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shiny-jr · 1 year

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damnation (peek V?)

Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Neige LeBlanche, Epel Felmier, Rook Hunt, Vil Schoenheit.

Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.

Note: Should I be posting this right now? Probably not. Especially since Scarabia isn’t completed, but I haven’t posted anything in a while and I’ve been more motivated and inspired for Pomefiore lately. Maybe seeing comments and opinions on this might boost my energy and make me write more and complete both Scarabia and Pomefiore. Hopefully. Anyways, I wanted to post this anyways because technically it was part of the first sneak-peek before I edited it out so I could make its own and make it longer too. That, and after seeing fanart by a mutual, I wanted to write even more. I’m finally getting the chance now. So I’ll be writing right after I post this. Go check out the most recent fanart I got for this specific part of the project. Oh, and if you have no idea what this is, you might want to check the first sneak-peek post (the “I” below) and my previous posts under the #damnation twst au tag. One last thing. None of this is edited, I just copy and pasted from the draft I have so yeah, just in case y’all see mistakes it’s because I haven’t gone over it yet. I usually go over everything once it’s completed.

I . . . II . . . III . . . IV . . . V . . . VI . . . VII

THE BEAUTIFUL KING

A dark robe. Wrapped around your shoulders was a black cloak, like wings folded in. Speaking of feathered appendages, there was a single shiny feather tucked behind your ear. You had felt it tickling your earlobe, leading you to pluck it out of your hair to examine it. It was long and black, huge in size, making you imagine it came from a beast of a raven. Slowly you looked up, confused to find yourself at a desk surrounded by books, bottles of odd colorful liquids, and there was even a cauldron in the corner of the stone wall!

Returning your attention back to the feather, you were perplexed but quite liked it so you placed it back behind your ear where you had originally discovered it. Upon standing from the wooden chair, you noticed your change of outfit. A simple white ruffled shirt and black pants, although nearly every inch of you was covered by the black cloak on your back that reached all the way to your ankle and draped around you like a curtain. Lifting up the cloak, you could feel a short sword strapped safely and securely in a hilt on your back hidden away from sight. What was this place…? Why were you dressed like this? Why did you have a sword? What was going on? Was this your punishment?

Just then, your eyes drifted over to a book stand where a heavy leather tome sat open to prying eyes. Your prying eyes, to be exact. Curiously you stepped toward it, your fingers ghosting over the crisp pages of the aged book as you squinted incredulously at the words printed on the surface in a large font, occasionally dotted with red ink. “Poison apple…?” Beside it was the painted image of a ripe red apple, and in its shining reflective skin was the distinct shape of a skull. “One taste of the poisoned apple and the victim’s eyes will close forever in the sleeping death.”

But that… that was from a fairytale! The story of Snow White and the Beautiful Queen! This page about a poisoned apple, the tome, this basement filled with ingredients and suspicious concoctions… So it was true, criminals were often sent to dangerous tales where they would perish. And you... you were a criminal and you were here, but... what role did you play? Lifting your hand up to your ear, you suddenly felt the familiar soft sensation of the black feather accessory and realization dawned on you. Didn’t the queen have a pet raven…? Could that explain why you were here in these strange but fancy clothes? Of all things, why did you have to be the raven?

How did the story go again? The Queen was vain and wicked, she wished to be the most beautiful of all. It was said that she consulted her magic mirror every day and would inquire as to who the fairest of them all was. Should the mirror ever reply with another’s name instead of hers, she would find a way to kill her rival and would only be satisfied once the mirror answered her name. So when her step-daughter, Snow White, grows to become the fairest of them all, the Queen goes mad with jealousy and has a huntsman attempt to kill her. When that fails, the Queen takes matters into her own hands, eventually turning herself ugly as a disguise and even causing her own untimely demise by falling off a cliff and being crushed by a boulder, her remains left as feed for hungry vultures. That was the Queen, but what about the raven? Well, it’s never disclosed as to what happens to the bird, at least to your knowledge. The last the raven is seen, it was being tormented by the wicked Queen as she was creating the poisoned apple. Actually, maybe being the raven wasn’t so bad afterall… At least it didn’t perish or receive some other horrible ending.

Knowing this brought you much relief. At least you didn’t end up as the raven in that other story about a sleeping princess. That raven was turned to stone! You pity any poor sucker that might’ve ended up in that position. This outcome was adequate, for now. Perhaps it was best to venture outside, to attempt to find this beautiful queen. To be honest, it was a little exciting. You had always wondered how beautiful she was, since the novels always claimed they could never do her justice. But that's besides the point. Once meeting her, you then had to decide what your next move would be.

Keeping all that in mind, you climbed the spiraling stone staircases just barely lit by candles. You winced whenever you heard the squeak of a rat or spotted a rotting corpse of a forgotten prisoner still in chains. Quickening your pace until you reached a wooden door, and stepped into the sunlight. It was warm and delightful, the sun’s rays shining on your skin. You felt free. As of now, this was far from punishment. But knowing that you were sent here to be punished or even die, was what kept you from being completely at ease. You could almost just relax here in the calm and beauty of this garden–– key word, almost. Shrieking and many voices shattered your temporary peace, even scaring away the white doves that had flocked in the open courtyard.

Grumbling, you followed the sound of the commotion. It sounded like it was coming from over the high palace walls. There was one portion of the wall that was shorter than the rest, if you climbed onto the smooth edges of the railing by the stone steps, you could successfully scale onto the top of the wall where you decided to lounge about and spectate the action. On the other side of the wall, you could see a young man getting closer and closer, nervously waving at a large group giggling and following him. It was obvious that he was a little uncomfortable, and that he was trying to lose them without hurting their feelings by how he continued to smile even as he picked up the pace.

When his eyes landed on you, he appeared surprised, and as he walked the path he was getting closer and closer. Feeling pity for the lad, you sighed and stretched your arm down, to which he hesitated a moment before finally deciding to place his hand in yours. You heaved him up and slid down to the safe side of the wall, the palace side, just before his apparent fans could catch him. Their whining and complaining was amusing.

“Thank you…! You saved me!”

Oh, right, he was still here. You glanced over at the young man peering happily up at you with the brightest smile on his lips. Your eyebrows furrowed as you slowly began to notice his features. Hair black as ebony, skin white as snow, dressed head-to-toe in rags… No way––

“Ah, I know you!” He exclaimed, delighted as he took a step closer. “You’re my elder brother’s attendant! I’ve seen you around the palace countless times. You are always working so hard that I’ve never gotten a chance to properly meet you! Of course you must already know but my name is Neige, it’s truly so wonderful to finally talk like this with you!” He performed a small but polite bow. Such manners for a prince in rags. “I never knew you were so kind! Is there any way I can repay you?”

“Ah, no, there’s no need for that…” You studied his face, attempting to make sense of it all. If this Neige was Snow White, it did make total sense. His skin was flawless, it looked like a marshmallow, so pristine but soft. He was cherubic. His beauty was more of a one of innocence and cuteness, and it seemed the townsfolk noticed his looks judging by how they focused on his physical features instead of his attire. You force your gaze away. This was the prince who the Queen would try to kill. But there’s a chance it may be King in this version, because you’re fairly certain that Neige had just mentioned something about having an elder brother that you apparently worked for. “It was nothing.”

“Please, don’t be so modest! Your actions were selfless and heroic. Had it not been for you, I’m afraid I would’ve been stuck outside all day with no choice other than to interact with all those that followed me. And I couldn’t have that! I promised my brother that I would do my chores.” A sad frown appeared on his face as his gaze traveled back over to the wall, “Although I do regret having just left them without so much as a goodbye…”

So he was kind… Makes sense. Most princesses, or prince in this case, were kind-hearted souls that were far too naive or trusting and had the strangest ability to communicate with woodland creatures. However that last part worked, you weren’t entirely sure.

“The doves of the courtyard gathered by the well with me this morning! And we all made a wish! I, well… It's a bit embarrassing, but I wished for something truly special. And I believe that my wish may have come true!” A pretty pink blush made his cheeks rosy as he clasped his hands together, looking so truly content as he peered up at you.

“Is that so…?” Well, magical animal talking ability, check that off the list. He really was like the princess from the fairytale. But you didn’t like where this was going. You outgrew fairytales a long time ago, but when you read something so fantastical and magical in your innocent imaginative youth, it sticks with you. Perhaps that was a good thing, because even now you could recall the small details of the story.

In the beginning of the story, Snow White is cleaning the courtyard when she meets the doves at the well where she makes a wish to meet her true love. Not too long after, the prince appears on horseback, hearing the princess’ song that leads him to climb over the palace walls to get to her. When you got older, you quickly realized how creepy that actually was. The prince crept up on her like some sort of stalker, and essentially trespassed on private palace grounds. But that’s besides the point right now. The point is, Snow White made a wish to meet her true love which happened to be the prince. Well, right now, you have yet to see another so-called dashing prince or princess. There was just the courtyard and you were alone with Neige, and he was gazing up at you through his lashes and with a pretty smile that appeared too fondly. The Queen, or King, really needed to stop cooping up Prince Neige within the palace walls. It was dulling his sense towards social cues and common sense.

“Hey! What the hell are you doin’...?!”

Surprised at the sudden presence beside you, you looked to see another stranger. This one you couldn’t automatically connect to a role. It was a short young man with a cuteness that could possibly even rival the prince. He had such wide blue eyes and odd soft lavender curls that framed his face. Unlike you and Prince Neige, his outfit was of much finer detail which consisted of a white tunic and long dark blue sleeves from the shirt he wore underneath. A red cloak was draped over the shoulders of his small frame, the ends brushing against his simple pants and boots. But despite his fine clothing and adorable appearance, he spoke with such brashness, irked for whatever reason.

“Ah, you must be Epel! My brother speaks often about you! He says he sees great potential in you!” Neige interjected, oblivious to this Epel fellow’s irritation. Epel… the name didn’t ring a bell. You could accurately deduce what Neige’s role was based on his appearance and the fact that his name meant snow in French. But you still had no idea who Epel was supposed to be. Again, Neige bowed his head in polite greeting as he exclaimed, “Today must be my lucky day! Not only have I met you now, Epel, but I’ve also met–– Um…” He paused, turning to you and inquiring softly, “I’m sorry, I’m so excited that I’ve forgotten to ask your name.”

The lavender-haired boy quickly snatched your attention away from the prince, grabbing your cloak where your arm would be as he hissed in a whisper so as to not involve Neige. “Are you crazy? Talkin’ to the prince…! Vil is gonna fly off the handle!” Not-so-discreetly gesturing to the window right above them with his eyes darting to it and back to you, but not moving his head, so as to not alert the onlooker behind the glass.

You froze, not moving your head but your eyes moved up to where Epel had been glancing at. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could just barely make out a tall and thin figure in purple standing at the large window, holding the red curtains open with both hands. They were watching, and just as you moved your head the tiniest bit to get a better look, you only caught a glimpse of a deep angered frown before the curtains were abruptly shut, barring you from seeing anymore. That could’ve only been the beautiful royal, the monarch in charge that sees Prince Neige as a rival. When you looked back at Neige, he was still smiling at you with his hands folded in front of him, patiently awaiting an answer. Poor guy doesn’t know what’s coming.

“We gotta go, or Rook is gonna drag us back himself…!” Without even waiting for you to give Neige your name, Epel took your hand and ran like a bat out of hell. Making a beeline straight for an entrance to the palace, you attempted to keep up with him. He was surprisingly strong for someone so small.

Behind you, you heard, “W-Wait, I never got your name…!”

Well, that’s a crying shame. Focusing your attention on where you were heading, you began to lose track of all the twists and turns within these palace walls. Epel led you forward, he certainly knew where he was going. But you? You hadn’t a clue. That is, until after a few minutes, you arrived at a long hall where at the very end there were double doors already opened. The few soldiers standing guard paid no mind to you and the lavender-haired fellow, probably because in their eyes, you belonged here. And yet that couldn’t be further from the truth.

You felt so incredibly out of place as you stood on the lengthy blue carpet that stretched forward toward a small yet intricately designed throne of gold and jewels formed in the shape of a magnificent peacock with its feathered fanned out. But what was more entrancing than the priceless throne, was the person sitting atop it. Oh, how the novels did not lie, they truly could not do the monarch any justice in portraying their beauty. The King, who must’ve been Vil, could’ve been a world-famous model. His face looked like those perfect sculpted marble statues, it was the type of look that would incur the envious wrath of gods and goddesses in mythology. There was not a single blemish or flaw. Not even a single hair of his golden locks fading into lavender was out of place. The long purple robes under the longer black cloak flowing down his body, complimented the color of his amethyst eyes. Those eyes looked even more shiny than the golden crown perched atop his skull. You weren’t a simp but wow.

The King appeared less than pleased, it actually made you incredibly nervous when he bore a frown and silently beckoned you closer with a single curling movement of his index finger.

Walking past Epel who stood by the door, you took a deep breath as you recounted what knowledge you had on etiquette during this time period. Once you were a few feet in front of him, you began to kneel, when he spoke and caused you to freeze.

“Don’t.” Intense gaze glued to your form, he watched you carefully as he instructed, “Come closer.”

You slowly stepped forward, closer to him.

“Closer.”

Hesitating, you took another step so one foot was on the step in front of his throne.

“Closer.”

Pausing, you inched forward, now standing on the same elevation as the throne. Now you were just centimeters away from him, and it was putting you on edge. When he appeared seemingly satisfied, that’s when you finally kneeled in front of him. With a bowed head, a common sign of respect in customs with monarchies, you greeted simply, “Your Majesty.”

The King peered down at you, silent for a moment as you kept your head down and eyes glued to the ends of his purple robes and how his black cloak that matched yours, but his was much longer, pooled around his throne to look like a black void. After a few moments, you felt his hand at your chin, his slim fingers urging you to look up. When you did, he hummed, “Well, my lovely pet, have you had your fun with my little step-brother?” He gave a question, but it became obvious that he didn’t want an answer. At least not yet. This king must not be too fond of the prince. As his thumb stroked your chin and raised it so your head was almost at his knee, he continued slowly while gazing down at you, “You know that I loathe sharing, don’t you? So why would I share you with my step-brother, hm? Have you perhaps… begun to favor him over me?”

It struck you then that the royal must be an extremely envious person. Not only did they want to remain first in standing when it came to beauty, but he also wanted to monopolize people’s attention so that they may focus on him. Replying carefully, you spoke while keeping your eyes glued to his enchanting yet intimidating gaze, “Of course not, Your Majesty. It was merely a coincidence that I encountered him. I cannot be as easily swayed as the masses.” For a moment you hesitated, seeing that he seemed unconvinced as you proceeded, “... My loyalty to you cannot be broken by a prince in rags.”

After a few moments, the tension in the air evaporated as the king graced you with a smile that made your breath hitch. You had said the right thing. Tempted to glance at Epel for a possible clue on what to do next, you refrained and instead remained still as a statue when the king reached forward with his other hand to remove your hood. “Let me see your face, my retainer.” As soon as the hood was removed, he examined your face in the light. It took an incredible amount of calm to keep composed and not squirm in place under his intense scrutinizing gaze. Finally, he frowned and sighed, “I’ve been keeping you confined beneath the castle for far too long. You’re beginning to look ghastly, and I can’t be seen with someone beside me that’s less than appealing to look at.” Removing his hands from your face, he motioned for you to stand, which you did. “You’ve done enough. Getting rid of our guests and covering it up must’ve been challenging, especially for you to do it all on your own. This time, Rook will take over while you will be receiving enough sunlight to revitalize your complexion. Do not overdo it. Rook.”

Guests? Cover up? This wasn’t in the story. There wasn’t any time to fully process what you heard before you detected yet another voice just right beside your ear.

“Good day, petit corbeau!” You felt your soul leave your body for a single second when these words were said beside your ear by a voice, an extremely close and unfamiliar voice. When you jumped, startled, you noticed there was another young man literally only an inch behind you. When did he even get there? You didn’t even notice him until now! When you stepped to the side out of the way, you furrowed your eyebrows at his smile.

The young man was blonde, with hair styled into a ridiculous looking bob-cut but he somehow made it work as he wore a wide-brimmed brown hat with a black feather. Over his shoulders and back he wore a large hunter green cloth that wrapped around his shoulders like a scarf and extended over his back like a small cloak. Underneath, concealed by the cloth, was a dark tunic and black pants with a belt and knife at his hip. However, what unnerved you wasn’t the knife at his hip or the bow and quiver chock full of arrows on his back. It was his eyes.

His forest green eyes were glued to you, and he bore a wide and charming smile. “Ah, to see you without your hood and out of the undercroft, what a rare sight! Marvelous! I must thank you, Your Majesty, for making this possible! It is not everyday we see your dutiful, striking, mysterious little raven. It is truly a spectacle to behold! I will treasure this rare moment where I’ve not only heard you speak, but have seen your visage without being shrouded by shadows and concealed by your hood!”

You did not like this. The way he was looking at you as he spoke so dramatically made a shiver crawl up your spine. Yes, he spoke nothing but praise in such an honest tone and declaration, but there was something in his eyes. Something that placed you on edge as his smile turned slightly ominous and his eyes narrowed at you. There was a twinkle in his green eyes as he tilted his head at you inquisitively, as if sensing your unease without you even saying a word. This had to be the Rook fellow that Epel mentioned offhandedly, and now it made sense as to why he ran back so quickly just to avoid encountering him.

Much to your relief, Vil sighed and interjected without even standing from his throne. Furrowing his eyebrows, he scolded in an irked tone, “I didn’t summon you to pester my little retainer, Rook. Stress from you is not what my retainer needs right now. It causes wrinkles.”

“Apologies, Your Majesty.” Rook chuckled, obediently turning to fully face the royal as you stood stiffly beside him, keeping a safe distance between you two.

Behind you, out of the corner of your eye, you could see Epel quietly closing the doors once Vil gestured for him to do so. It seemed the king wanted privacy, he wished to say something not even the guards outside the thick wooden doors were allowed to hear. The only ones that would be witnesses to his words were you, Epel, and Rook. You had to wonder what was so secretive that he didn’t even want his soldiers stationed outside to hear, and why were you allowed to hear? Was it because you were supposedly in the role of his trusted retainer? Maybe it had something to do with that cover-up he mentioned just a short time ago.

The tension in the room was thick, it disturbed you and you can tell it bothered the short purple-haired young man too if his growing perturbed frown was anything to go by. Despite this, he took up the space beside you. The blonde with the bow, Rook, who you now were assuming to be a huntsman if his attire and weapons were any giveaway, continued to smile without much of a care. Rook was on the left, Epel was on the right, and you were in the center, and still on his throne was King Vil. With luck, you’ll be able to keep up this act. It wouldn’t do for a retainer to fail. It might cost you and be the slip-up that would put an end to this charade of survival.

“I’ve decided. Rook, the duties I normally give to my retainer will be passed onto you today. You’re much more suited for this job. It involves my little step-brother, Neige.” The way he said the prince’s name made it sound like it pained him just to utter it, like it burned his tongue just to mention him. But he continued. “It seems he’s been working hard at completing his chores, hm? He’s been begging for a day out, and he adores flowers so… Rook, you will take him far into the woods, a secluded meadow where he can pick as many wildflowers as his little heart desires.”

Once you processed his words, you froze. It dawned on you that it was happening, this was the moment in the story when the beautiful queen commanded her huntsman to murder the princess in the woods. Vil must’ve already consulted the magic mirror and was told that he was no longer the fairest in all the land. That title now officially belonged to Neige, but it wouldn’t for long if the king had anything to say about it.

The other two loyal and trusted by the king had no idea, as Epel appeared vaguely bored and disinterested while Rook seemed elated. “Of course! I’ll see to it that it is done, Your Majesty––!”

“I’m not finished.” Vil interrupted, frowning tersely as his gaze turned cold. Tapping his well-manicured nails against the armrest of his throne, his eyes narrowed and he leaned an inch forward while instructing, “There, you will kill him.”

The shock was immediately evident on the face of the two beside you. Epel, who had been quiet throughout this entire exchange, finally broke his silence with a small gasp as he moved to cover his mouth with one hand. But it was too late, everyone had already heard him and seen his stunned expression. And yet, no one seemed to really care. Everyone was far too engrossed in what was just said by the king.

Rook appeared just as confounded before disbelief took root, as if he didn’t even wish to believe his own two ears. Removing his hat, he held it to his chest and lowered his head respectfully as he placed a hesitant foot forward. “Your Majesty, our beautiful and lovely Vil, you can’t possibly mean–– our prince Neige…!”

“Silence!” Immediately standing from his seat, he scowled, the prince’s name only making his rage more bitter. And then, he said something unexpected, something off script and never in the story. Gesturing to you, he hissed, “My loyal retainer here could make six souls vanish without a trace, why can’t you do it with one mere prince? Must they do everything? Must I have to dirty my own hands? Hm?”

Lowering his head further, the huntsman replied quietly, somberly, his smile now gone. “Of course not, Your Majesty. Your delicate hands aren’t meant to be soiled…” It’s as you suspected. Rook stayed alive and was one of Vil’s closest servants because he was witty enough to think of something on the spot that was complimentary enough to appease the bitter royal. At least, that’s what it seemed like at the moment. For now, you were grateful you weren’t him. Some people who read the story of Snow White liked to theorize that the huntsman was murdered by the vicious queen for failing to assassinate the princess.

Vil was quiet, not completely calm judging by his sneer but he was composed enough not to say anything more. Standing tall, his gaze honed in on you and Epel, to which he spoke, “My loyal, diligent retainer, escort my successor out. I need to have a word with Rook, privately.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

#yandere #neige lubanche #neige leblanche #epel felmier #rook hunt #vil schoenheit #twisted wonderland #twst #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #twst writing #work in progress #damnation twst au

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flanaganfilm · 1 year

Note

Hey Mike! Can you talk about your experience going from Absentia to Oculus? That process after Absentia went on its festival run to pitching Oculus? Would love to learn about that time in your life & career!

I moved to Los Angeles in 2003, right after I graduated college. I went to Towson University in Maryland, was an EMF major (Electronic Media & Film) and had wanted nothing more than to make movies my whole life. We were a comfortable middle class military family (my dad was in the Coast Guard) and for most of my life, making movies for a living felt like an impossible dream.

When I moved to LA I took whatever work I could find. I shot and edited those local car commercials you see on TV at 2am, I was a logger and an AE for reality TV shows, and I eventually worked my way to editing.

I said I'd give myself 5 years to make it in Hollwood. By the time we shot Absentia, I'd been here for 7 years, and in that time I hadn't gotten any closer to my dream.

I've already written at length about how Absentia came along and what it was like to make that little movie, and I've recently blogged about how the Oculus premiere changed my life and birthed my career, so I won't rehash those - but I don't often talk about what went on in between.

I finished editing Absentia just before my oldest son was born in 2010, and went back to working full-time as a reality TV editor. In fact, in the months leading up to his birth, I was working double-time - I spent my days at a company called Film Garden working on a series for DIY Network, and my nights editing packages at Nash Entertainment for those true crime clip shows. Whatever it took to keep the lights on and provide as much support as I could for my son.

While this was happening, I'd submitted Absentia to a pile of film festivals. We didn't get into any of the majors - Sundance, SXSW, and Toronto all passed on the film. Our world premiere was at the Fargo Film Festival, where Tom Brandau, one of my former professors from Towson - and one of my mentors - was teaching.

(Our original festival poster, WAY better than the weird clip art that would come later)

The movie got into a fair amount of film festivals, and we traveled with it as much as we could. I have fond memories of the Phoenix Film Festival, San Luis Obispo (where I met Greg Kinnear at a party and very awkwardly asked for a picture - you can see how thrilled he is about it) and my personal favorite: the Fantastia Film Festival in Montreal.

(At one of the screenings, I believe the San Luis Obispo Film Festival)

While this was happening, the film was picked up for a tiny VOD and DVD release through Phase 4 Films.

They were a Canadian distribution company whose claim to fame was putting out Kevin Smith's Red State under a very unusual distribution model. They acquired the movie, which led to a company holiday part in Hollywood.

There, I briefly met Kevin Smith for the first time. We've met again since, and I've now had a chance to thank him for the kindness he showed me back then - I was just some starstruck kid at a party, but he was gracious and available and inspiring. I really admire the way Kevin deals with his fans, and I've tried to emulate it over the years.

So that was kind of it for Absentia. We went to a few festivals, went to a few parties, and posed for a few pictures with some people we admired. Phase 4 designed some truly godawful cover art, dropped the movie into video stores, and that was that.

($2.99 is a pretty good deal)

So Absentia had pretty much run its course. It had a passionate following of fans, but between the crappy art design and glut of low budget horror films on the market, its moment had already come and gone. I was back at work, editing a series for DIY Network called Extra Yardage, and yearning for another chance to make a movie.

Absentia might not have broken open the industry doors like I'd wanted it to, but one thing it did yield was a meeting with an entertainment attorney named Joel VanderKloot.

I had been represented a few times over the years by various managers (to be honest, they were actually Jeff Howard's managers, and they took me on because we had a co-written project together.) But those relationships hadn't gone anywhere, I'd never sold a script or booked a job, and when I suggested making Absentia they were not supportive ("You've already tried the indie thing, haven't you?") so by the time Absentia was made, I was completely unrepped.

Joel was a family friend of Jason Poh, who was one of our Absentia Kickstarter backers. He was a guy who'd just found the project online and donated a thousand bucks. He kept up with us, and loved the final movie. He told me he knew an entertainment lawyer and offered to arrange a lunch.

I left my editing job at Film Garden for a long lunch and met Joel in Santa Monica (this was a day-killing drive for me). Joel had seen the movie and really liked it. We had a good lunch, but wasn't immediately sure about taking me on - it's a lot of work to take on a new client, and there wasn't much heat on my movie. But there was something there that he liked, and he called later that day to say he would take me on as a client.

I was elated. I felt like I'd made my movie to the best of my ability, and that it had flashed in the pan and then died... no one had noticed outside of a few festival audiences and critics. But here was someone who worked in the industry and he saw something in the film that he believed in.

Joel started looking for managers while I clung to my day job. He passed the movie around and we had a few nibbles, which led to the first manager in my career who wanted to simply represent ME: Nicholas Bogner.

Bogner went about setting general meetings at production companies who specialized in horror films. There weren't a lot of takers, and not everyone was willing to watch an entire feature film in consideration of a general meeting. So it was hit or miss - I was a nobody, after all, and they get these kinds of incoming inquiries all the time.

But there were a few takers. And the very first meeting I had was with Anil Kurian at Intrepid Pictures.

Again, I took an extended lunch from my editing job and drove across town to Intrepid's offices in Santa Monica. I was beyond nervous when I sat in the waiting room. The young man working the front desk signed me in and offered me a water. And then, just before the meeting started, he leaned over and he said "I loved Absentia, by the way."

Anil was a really cool executive and we had a good general meeting. At the end of it, he introduced me to the heads of Intrepid: Marc Evans, and Trevor Macy.

We all ended up in the conference room, where posters for Intrepid's other movies - at that time, The Strangers and The Raven - were hanging. I vividly remember staring at them while I pitched all five of the ideas I had for movies.

One of them was a story about a little boy whose dreams manifested in real life, and another was a take on Stephen King's novel Gerald's Game. But at the time, none of these ideas worked. The meeting was over, and everyone was politely going about their day.

I felt a panic in me. It was my first real meeting, the door had been cracked open just an inch by Absentia, and I was about to walk away with nothing. Would my new manager want to keep me? Would my new lawyer think he was wasting his time?

I stopped in the doorway and turned back. "I've got one other thing," I said. "I made a short years ago about a haunted mirror, and I have a take for a feature."

They kind of laughed at the idea of a haunted mirror. "How do you make that scary?" Trevor asked. I said "Think of it like a portable Overlook Hotel," and the room got a little quieter.

"I'd like to see that short," Trevor said. I agreed to send it immediately.

I ran back to work, stayed a few hours late to make up the time I'd burned on my lunch hour, and went home to find a DVD copy of Oculus: The Man with the Plan.

I'd made that short in 2005. It was 20 mins long, and a lot of fun. Over the years whenever I'd get into meetings (all courtesy of Jeff Howard, who had sold scripts long before we started writing together), people would see it and ask about a feature. Every time, though, the conversation stalled because they wanted the film to be a found footage movie, or they'd balk at the idea of me directing a feature.

I sent the DVD to Intrepid and waited. About a week later, they called and asked me to come back in.

I took another long lunch (this would become quite a habit as the project advanced) and drove back down. We met again in the conference room, but this time the mood was a little different.

Trevor said "We're interested in this. How would you expand it? I know there are cameras in the room with the man and the mirror, which begs the question of found footage..."

My heart sank.

"... but we're thinking that's a mistake. It looks like all the fun is in playing with reality, and you can't do that with found footage. So how would you do it?"

And we were off.

I won't rehash the long journey between this meeting and the Oculus premiere at Toronto (scroll down to find another blog about that), but that was really the moment when things changed.

I drove back to work a little giddy. Intrepid optioned the short film, I called Jeff Howard to see if he'd still want to work on a feature with me, and we were commissioned to write the script.

It was my first Hollywood job. I was paid the bare minimum, but I was also able to join the WGA because of the deal. I still didn't quit my day job (and wouldn't for a long time, not until the movie was really shooting in Alabama the following year) but I was off to the races.

Once the script was done, Oculus would lead to my first agents (at APA, and they treated me very well) and my first "real" movie.

What's particularly neat about this time, looking back, is that I owe it all to Absentia. We'd made this tiny little movie to try to kick open the door of Hollywood and start a career. And despite the enormous pride I had in the finished film, it felt for a long time like it hadn't quite succeeded in that.

But quietly, subtly, the movie did exactly what I hoped it would. The festival screenings built up a small but confident word of mouth. The movie led directly to my attorney Joel (who still represents me to this day), which led directly to my first real representation, which led directly to Intrepid Pictures.

Trevor Macy is now my business partner and has produced every single thing I've ever made since. We run Intrepid Pictures together, and I see that same eagerness in the faces of young filmmakers who find their way to us for general meetings. I try to be as supportive and accessible to them as I possibly can, because I remember very well what it feels like to stand in their shoes.

And Trevor even ended up making those other pitches he'd rejected all those years ago - Before I Wake and Gerald's Game followed soon after Oculus was done.

Absentia did everything I could have wanted it to do, and much more. I'll always remember that period of time with great affection... but man, it was stressful. The uncertainty of those years still exists in me, I don't think it'll ever leave.

Someone told me, along the way, that there wouldn't be a moment when I realized I "made it." It would happen while I wasn't looking. That ended up being absolutely true.

#absentia #oculus #intrepid pictures #hollywood dreams

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practicingsmut · 8 months

Text

I Swear to God the Devil Made Me Do It

devil!jeonghan x human!reader, 5.7k words, I'm not sure if there's anything in here that I need to warn for but if there is just let me know and I'll edit the post, I did not mean for this to be my longest fic to date by far but here we are, also I wrote this over the course of three days and did not go back to reread what I had written previously so if there are weird transitions that's why

There was a door to Hell in the back of your closet. While something you were used to now, it was quite the shock when you had first learned about it. The house had sat vacant for months, something that confused you immensely when you were shown the property. The owners before you had been renting it out, but with tenants not lasting more than a few weeks at a time, there was no money coming in from it and therefore they had decided to rent it. You fell in love with the quaint little house the moment you set your eyes on it, and it felt like a steal for how cheaply the previous owners had been asking.

All that to say, there was a nagging voice in the back of your mind that had you thinking that things might have been too good to be true. You hadn’t expected the truth of too good to be true to come to light with an actual Devil walking into your room from your closet the day after you had officially moved into the place.

To say you were scared would be an understatement, and the Devil wasn’t exactly thrilled about the situation either. Your fight or flight response kicked in and well, long story short, if he hadn’t been born with supernatural strength and speed, the knife you had been using to pop open your packed boxes would have gone straight through his sternum. Though you were CPR certified, being stabbed like that was not something a normal human would have been able to come back from.

That was months ago, and now you and the Devil had actually become quite good friends. After the both of you had calmed down enough to talk, he introduced himself as Jeonghan, and he made it very clear that he was just a Devil, not the Devil. You still hadn’t quite grasped the nuances of the hierarchies of Hell, but it didn’t really matter.

He explained why he was so shocked that you could actually see him when he exited the portal - which, by the way, connected directly back to his home in Hell - and that was because he had made a contract with the original owners of the house who knew how long ago. Only those whose name was on the deed could see through any illusions or invisibility charms he put on himself. He had no idea that the house had been sold, so even if any renters had been home when he needed to make his way into the human world, they wouldn’t have been able to see him.

Once it became clear that the two of you didn’t actually care to harm each other, you developed a system where he’d call out to you through the portal before coming through just to make sure it was okay. You could hear him from anywhere in the house, or even outside of it as long as you were still on the property. A yes was a yes and a no was a no, and not hearing from you after asking three times meant that you weren’t home to answer and he was welcome to use the portal as long as he made his way out into the wide world quickly; as comfortable as the two of you had gotten, you weren’t fond of the thought of someone being in your home without you there, even though you trusted him.

The system had served you well, working for both of your needs every time it was used. Most of the time Jeonghan had business in the human world to attend to, but sometimes he just wanted your company - something you didn’t mind indulging in. It was a lovely arrangement the two of you had, but you should have realized that eventually the system would fail you, and that failure happened the first time you brought someone home with you.

The man - you couldn’t even remember his name, though you were pretty sure he had whispered it in your ear while you were dancing together at the club - could barely keep his hands off of you as the two of you practically fell through your front door. You made it to the bed eventually, having stopped every few feet to kiss and grope each other some more.

There you were, reclining on your bed, the man’s tongue in your mouth and a very obvious erection pressing against you, when suddenly he pulled away. You pouted, which only made him laugh.

“Don’t worry, I’m just putting on some mood music,” he assured you as he scrolled through his phone for a moment.

Once the music was chosen and blasting through his phone’s speakers, his mouth and hands were on you again. He rolled his hips against yours, eliciting a moan that he quickly swallowed up with a kiss. The hand gripping your waist slid slowly down your leg until it hit the bare skin of your thigh, only to then slide slowly back up and under the hem of your dress. You let out a shaky sigh as tingles erupted in the pit of your stomach with the anticipation of things to come.

“Well, I hope I’m not interrupting anything too important,” a voice called out just loud enough to be heard over the music.

The man you had brought home bit your lip in surprise before jumping backwards, revealing Jeonghan in all his devilish glory - spiraling horns, leathery wings, and spade-tipped tail. Something seemed different about the way he looked, though it wasn’t just the bored expression on his face that barely concealed a myriad of emotions swirling beneath the surface.

“What the fuck are you?” the man called out, voice betraying equal parts fear and confusion. So that’s what was different about Jeonghan - he didn’t have the lingering glitter of an illusion or invisibility charm that you sometimes caught even though you could see through them. So he wanted the man to see what he really looked like.

Jeonghan didn’t even glance at the man, his eyes staying locked on your own. You couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious under his scrutiny as he took in your flushed face and the dress scrunched dangerously high on your legs.

“What are you doing here?” you questioned, more than a little upset at his sudden intrusion.

“I called for you,” he stated. “Three times. You didn’t answer. Now I see why.”

Without breaking eye contact Jeonghan picked up the man’s phone and shut off the music. The sudden silence made your ears ring. He tossed it to the man who fumbled to catch it. Only then did Jeonghan finally acknowledge him.

“What are you still doing here? Go,” he said impatiently. The man did not need to be told twice. He was out the door without a single glance back, leaving you to stare daggers at Jeonghan who still stood in the doorway of your closet.

“What the fuck, Jeonghan? Why would you do that?” you spat, crossing your arms across your chest in a defiant gesture. Jeonghan advanced further into the room, causing you to skitter backwards what little distance you could as he sat down on the edge of your bed.

“I told you, I called for you three times, and when you didn’t answer I figured that meant I was free to come through. I hadn’t expected to find you here with… well, to find you as I had,” he explained. It made sense, but you weren’t done being mad at him.

“And when you did find me here you thought it would be alright to cockblock me and send my date screaming into the night? Just head off on whatever business you’ve got in this world and leave me alone.” You turned your head to face away from him like a pouting child, but a moment later his hand came to caress your jaw and gently turn you back in his direction.

“Ah, I think my business can wait. I’d rather stay here and help you out,” he replied. His voice had dropped a bit, both in volume and tone, and the combined effect forced a shiver down your spine that you had to work to suppress.

You realized you were staring at his lips just a beat too long after he spoke, and when you looked up to meet his eyes you saw a hint of amusement in them. If you hadn’t already been blushing, you certainly would have been at that point.

“Help me with what?” Your voice had involuntarily gotten quieter to match his.

Jeonghan leaned in slightly and you caught a whiff of his scent. You could never quite pin down what he smelled like, but whatever the otherworldly scent was, it felt comforting. Inviting.

“What was it you accused me of doing? Cockblocking you? Well, after being so rude with that I wouldn’t want to leave you frustrated and alone.” A smirk graced his lips.

Your eyes widened in shock for the briefest of moments before you narrowed them in a glare. He had caught you off guard but you refused to let him have the last word on this.

“And what makes you think I’d want your help with my… frustrations?” you countered.

Jeonghan leaned even closer, tilting his head and stopping just shy of his lips meeting yours. His breath ghosted over your mouth and this time you couldn’t suppress the shiver it caused, though you managed to keep yourself from surging forward and kissing him.

“I’ve heard the way you’ve called out my name as you touched yourself in the middle of the night. I bet it’d sound even sweeter hearing it up close.” Jeonghan’s voice was barely above a whisper, and yet it did things to you that you could have never expected. You subconsciously drew your knees together to hide the wetness that bloomed across your panties in the split second before the embarrassment hit you.

“You could hear me?”

“Every sigh and moan, as long as my name was attached,” he answered.

“Why did you never say anything?”

“I figured if you wanted me bad enough you’d ask rather than using that little black toy you have. But I guess I figured wrong, seeing as you went to some stranger rather than asking me to help. I am sorry for that, by the way. I really didn’t know that you’d be here.”

You shook your head, ready to tell him that you weren’t upset with him for chasing what’s-his-name away, when something else from his statement clicked in your head. You leaned back out of Jeonghan’s reach, his hand that had been cradling your jaw falling to his lap.

“You went snooping around in my stuff when I wasn’t here,” you accused, but he was already shaking his head.

“You left your toy on the nightstand, once. It had been cleaned and everything, but you must have just forgotten to put it completely away.”

“Oh. right.” You remembered that day - coming home late and realizing it had been out in the open all day. You had just assumed that Jeonghan hadn’t come by, since he never mentioned it to you.

“You can tell me to go if you don’t want me here. Just say the word and I’ll leave. But if by chance you want me to stay… well, you could say that as well.”

There was half a second you paused before speaking where you made your decision.

“Jeonghan?”

“Hmm?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

A moment later his lips were on yours. You would have smacked the back of your head into the headboard if not for his left hand coming around to cradle it. His right came to rest on your side, fingers gripping your ribs while his thumb grazed the underside of your breast through the fabric of your dress. Your hands, meanwhile, reached out to grip the fabric of his shirt tightly in your fists. You were probably stretching the fabric, might even rip it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Promise me you’ll tell me if I do something that you don’t like,” Jeonghan said.

“Of course,” you whispered against his mouth before kissing him again, though in the moment you couldn’t think of a single thing you wouldn’t let him do to you.

Jeonghan’s tongue came out of his mouth and caressed your bottom lip. You had asked him once if he had a forked tongue, and he had laughed as if it were so outrageous picture on a being with horns, wings, and a tail. He had a normal tongue, and you winced as it caught on a slight abrasion.

Jeonghan pulled back slightly, only as far as your grip on his shirt would allow, and slid his hand from the back of your head to cup your cheek instead. His thumb pulled gently on your bottom lip to see what the issue was.

“That bastard made you bleed,” he growled.

You hadn’t thought the man had bit you that hard when Jeonghan had made his surprise entrance, but clearly you were wrong. You smoothed out your hands on his chest in an attempt to calm his sudden agitation.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” you assured him. Your words came out the slightest bit wrong due to the slight pressure he had on your lip. “Besides, A little pain isn't necessarily a bad thing.” Something sparked in Jeonghan’s eyes as his pupils dilated.

“Is that so?” He seemed to take your words almost as a challenge, but still waited for you to make the next move.

Figuring this might be your only chance to really surprise him that night, you steeled whatever strength you had and pushed against his chest. Of course if he had seen it coming he wouldn’t have budged against your efforts, but as things were you managed to knock him flat on his back, wings unfurling to avoid being squished. You had to untangle your legs, but a moment later you were straddling his waist and leaning down to catch his mouth in a kiss again. His hands gripped your hips tightly through your scrunched up dress.

Pressed together the way you were, it was hard not to focus on his hard length pressed up against you. It was definitely a lot bigger than the toy you used on yourself and as intimidating as that was, it was also exhilarating. You moaned just at the thought of what he’d feel like inside of you.

“Darling,” Jeonghan drawled. You pulled back slightly to give him room to talk. “As much as I’d love to spend hours on end kissing you, I think we’re both a little too impatient for that. I need to taste you.”

You held back a groan of anticipation. He’d barely even touched you and already your pussy was clenching tight, all from the sound of his voice. All those wasted nights he stayed in Hell listening to you calling out his name as you fucked yourself on a dumb little toy… he should have let himself in. You should have invited him to join you.

The first thing you did was shuck off all your clothes - you didn’t want anything getting in the way. It took a fair bit of maneuvering to get yourself positioned over his waiting face while keeping your feet away from his wings and knees away from his horns, but eventually you got there. Not a second later, Jeonghan’s hands were wrapped around your thighs and pulling you down onto him.

Jeonghan may not have had a forked tongue, but it was most definitely longer than any that had gone down on you before. He moved slowly, teasing you by working the tip up your folds, circling it once or twice around your clit, before trailing back down to play with your entrance.

“So much for being impatient,” you muttered. You could feel Jeonghan smirk against you, the movement making you squirm as it tickled you.

“Am I moving too slow for you, my sweet?”

Before you could even think of answering Jeonghan dove back in to eating you out. His hands held you down so close you were sure he would suffocate, but if he didn’t think that was an issue then who were you to worry about it? Your mind had better things to focus on, like the way his tongue fucked in and out of you at such a rapid pace, the tip of it flicking against your g-spot with every thrust and making you shake. With the distance between your cunt and his face being what it was - that is to say, not very much - his nose bumped against your clit repeatedly. You’d think it was a strange situation, if your brain could come up with any thoughts at all. You were too far gone for that, every fiber of your being focusing on your impending orgasm.

Suddenly the bedsheets weren’t enough for you to hold onto, you needed something sturdier. Your shaking legs made you feel like you’d fall over if you moved even an inch, but somehow you managed to get your hands gripped around Jeonghan’s horns right at the base of each one. They provided the support you had wanted and seemed to be working in Jeonghan’s favor as well. He moaned against you as your hands wrapped around them, the feeling against your cunt being just what you needed to send you over the edge.

You think you called out Jeonghan’s name in your ecstasy, but you couldn’t be sure. His grip on your thighs and your grip on his horns was all that kept you upright as your orgasm ripped through you.

With shaking legs and a heaving chest, Jeonghan had to do most of the work to get you off of him. He tucked you under one arm so that your head was laying on his chest and his hand could run comforting lines up and down your back.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out.

Jeonghan’s chest rumbled beneath you as he chuckled. “That good, huh?”

“I think you’ve masturbating for me, and I’ve given myself some real good orgasms,” you joked.

“And to think, that was just my mouth. You haven’t even experienced what my hands feel like, or my dick.”

“Oh believe me, I’m well aware of that. You’re not going anywhere until I have,” you asserted, earning another chuckle from Jeonghan. “Just… just give me a minute.” Though you ached to feel every part of Jeonghan’s body, you knew moving too fast and too soon would only lead to pain - and not the good kind.

“Take all the time you need,” Jeonghan reassured you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You could have fallen asleep there in the comfort of his arms if not for the brushing of his shirt against your breasts each time you breathed in. You couldn’t believe that he still had a shirt on - not to mention his pants, which you could see out of the corner of your eye were still highly tented. You had to remedy the situation. The instant your hand began to slide across his chest Jeonghan’s eyes opened to watch you.

“What are you doing?” he asked, a playful and curious lilt to his voice.

“You’re wearing too much clothing,” you answered resolutely.

Your hand had made it to the top button of his shirt; it was hard to pop open with just one hand and at the angle you were grabbing from, but you were more than determined. Jeonghan was amused by the whole situation and let you carry on with your plan until his chest and abdomen were fully exposed. It was then that Jeonghan took over, gently placing you down before standing up to pull off all of his clothing.

Everything about him seemed perfectly made to entice you from the slim and sculpted V of his hips framing a neat happy trail to his deliciously thick thighs, and in between them…

“My eyes are up here, sweetheart,” Jeonghan said with a chuckle.

Your eyes snapped immediately up to his own, face burning with embarrassment. Before you could move to sit up, Jeonghan settled back onto the bed to kneel between your legs. You had to spread them to accommodate his size and as soon as you did his hands came down to rest on the soft flesh of your inner thighs.

When he leaned over to kiss you his cock nestled itself against your core, stretching out over your stomach to show you just how far into you it would reach. Even without seeing it in that moment, you could feel just how unlike a human penis it was. As Jeonghan’s tongue tangled with your own you reached a hand in between the two of you to grab his member, wanting to run your fingertips over the ridges that flared out under the head.

Jeonghan sucked in harshly and bucked against your hand. Feeling encouraged, you stroked with a firmer grip, thumb catching the bead of sticky precum that spilled out. Your other hand tangled in Jeonghan’s hair and pushed his head into the crook of your neck. His hot breath fanned out over your throat before his mouth got to work kissing and biting, presumably leaving marks. You could feel him getting more and more worked up with each passing moment and you felt smug about having such an affect on him. Then all too soon he was pulling away, a shiver working its way through your whole body as the lack of his left you open to the air.

“Fuck, I need to be in you.” His words came out breathy and desperate, the sound of which had you clenching around nothing. Still, you could feel how big he was in your hand and had at least a little bit of common sense.

“I- I don’t think you’re going to fit,” you said with a nervous chuckle.

Jeonghan laced the fingers of one of his hands with your free one while wrapping his other one around the hand you had on his cock. He guided it to pump up and down a few more times before pulling it away.

“You can hold on here,” he said quietly, placing your hands on his shoulders, “and let me know if I need to stop or slow down or anything like that.”

You nodded. He pressed a light kiss to the tip of your nose before finishing his work to get you into the position he wanted you in. Your knees were hooked over the crooks of his elbows and one hand maintained a firm grip on your waist while the other slid across your stomach to make its way to your core. His thumb circled your clit two or three times before he pushed it through your slick folds to tease your hole.

“Is this alright?” he whispered. You let out a whine and nodded, shifting your hips to try and get him to touch you more.

Then his thumb was inside of you, pushing slowly all the way to the hilt only to rest there for a moment before pulling back out and repeating the process. You moaned, the sound making Jeonghan’s cock twitch where it sat on your stomach. He picked up speed, seeming to know exactly the right moment to flex his thumb in order to press against your g-spot every time he could.

“Jeonghan,” you groaned.

“What is it, my darling?” he asked, his voice sweet. It was almost as if he wasn’t teasing you into oblivion, and by extent teasing himself based on how much precum was leaking onto your stomach.

“I want more of you, please,” you begged.

Jeonghan didn’t answer you, but instead just slipped his thumb out, leaving you empty. You were about to complain when suddenly you were being stuffed with two of his fingers, his thumb that was slick with your arousal finding your clit a second later.

“Is that better?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to be able to answer in coherent words. Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly and you were sure you’d leave little crescent marks from where your fingernails dug into his skin, but he didn’t seem to mind. All the while your orgasm was building more and more, a tight ball in the pit of your abdomen.

When Jeonghan bent forward, you thought it was to kiss you, but instead he angled his head down in order to bite at your breast. He sucked a few dark red hickeys into your flesh before flicking his tongue against your hardened nipple. One of your hands slid up his neck to tangle in his hair, which he took as encouragement to carry on. A third finger entered your cunt, stretching you out and massaging your g-spot while his thumb continued its diligent work against your clit.

All of a sudden it was too much and you came on his hand with a loud cry. He worked you through your orgasm until the shaking in your legs subsided and only then did he pry himself away from his body. His fingers made their way into his mouth in turn so he could lick your juices off of them one by one.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to kill me,” you said.

Jeonghan let out a bright and clear laugh. “Yeah? Death by orgasm?”

“I can’t think of a better way to go.”

Jeonghan leaned down to kiss you, propping his body up on one forearm so as not to completely crush you. With his free hand he pumped his cock a few times, not that he needed any extra stimulation - he was still hard as a rock. Sufficiently satisfied with your lips he then leaned back so he was sitting on his heels once more before shifting your legs to be over his shoulders instead of his arms. The head of his cock teased your hole, barely poking in and out. Even having been stretched by three of his fingers you knew it would be a tight fit. You’d never wanted anything more in your life.

“Are you sure you want this? I don’t want to make you feel like you have to do anything you’ll regret,” Jeonghan asked. As much as you loved how concerned he was for you, at this moment it was just wearing down your already thin patience.

“Right now the only thing I’ll regret is ever letting you into my bed unless you fuck me right now, Jeonghan,” you insisted. Sure, he’d already given you two mind-shattering orgasms and ordinarily that would be more than enough, but you knew that you could not go to bed that night feeling happy with how your day went until you had felt his thick cock in your cunt.

“Well, my sweet, if that’s how you feel then who am I to deny you what you want?”

With a hand on either side of your head to hold himself up, you could see almost every inch of the man - the Devil - before you, except of course the parts of his chest that were covered by your legs. His wings flared out behind him, blocking much of the light in the room, and you could feel his tail wrap itself around one of your thighs. It wasn’t tight enough to hurt, but it put just enough pressure that you were aware of its presence.

He rolled his hips hesitantly, pushing into you. Instinctively you clenched every muscle you could and Jeonghan let out a groan in response.

“Darling, you have to relax. Let yourself get used to my size first,” Jeonghan said through clenched teeth. Trying to hold back was clearly a tremendous effort on his part.

You nodded and took a few deep breaths, willing your body to loosen up. Once Jeonghan deemed you ready, he resumed his efforts. He would slide his cock in an inch or so, then pull back so that only the tip stayed inside, then repeat the process. He made it a little bit further each time and built up a rhythm that your body got used to quickly, even if it took a little bit longer to adjust to how thick and long he was.

Snaking a hand in between your bodies, you pressed a finger to your clit, rubbing it just enough to provide a distraction from the uncomfortable stretch your cunt was dealing with. That helped more than you thought it would as the wetter you got the easier it was for Jeonghan to continue his movements. After several minutes of this Jeonghan suddenly stopped. You opened your eyes to find that he had sheathed himself fully without you noticing. Your hand left your clit and instead traced its way up your abdomen along the swollen bulge where his cock filled you up.

“I know you want me to get on with the fucking, but I just have to check in with you one more time. How are you doing?”

You leaned up as far as you could in order to kiss Jeonghan’s plush lips, barely managing to hold back a moan as the action caused him to shift ever so slightly inside of you.

“I’m being doted upon by the most handsome being I’ve ever laid my eyes on and whose cock is currently filling me to the brim. How could I be doing anything less than amazing?” you teased, all to see that beautiful smile of his again. You kissed him one more time before laying back and telling Jeonghan to continue on.

It hurt at first. Quite a lot, actually. The extra ridges that lined his cock caught at your walls and while you were sure that would feel wonderful in a little while, for the moment it was a bit too much when added onto the sheer size of him. Seeing your discomfort, Jeonghan began to talk to you, whispering sweet nothings and encouraging words in between his breathy moans of pleasure. You couldn’t quite catch most of what he said, but it was comforting to you nonetheless. He shifted his hands so that he was holding yours against the bed.

And then suddenly the pleasure became more than the pain and you found yourself in the throes of passion once more. Jeonghan picked up speed which increased the friction of his cock against your walls. He was no longer pulling all the way out to the tip and then moving all the way back in - that would take far too much time and hip control. At the speed he was thrusting it was easiest to move just a few inches at a time, and the inches he settled with had the hard ridges of his cock pressing hard against your g-spot with every movement.

It was hard to hold back your impending third orgasm of the night, but you managed to do it. You knew that once you gave yourself over to it you would be too sensitive to do anything else, and you wanted Jeonghan to be able to use you for his own pleasure just a little bit longer. He had made you feel incredible already, so it was only fair that you return the favor.

“Sweetheart, I’m not going to last much longer,” Jeonghan gasped. His eyes were closed tight with the effort of holding back, almost as if he were attempting the same thing you were. “Please, Jeonghan, I want you to cum inside me,” you pleaded.

As if he were waiting for your express permission he did just that. After a few more thrusts he pulled out so that just the tip of his cock remained inside you. You could feel him painting your walls white, the sensation finally loosening you up enough to send you spiraling into your third orgasm. Once he was done, Jeonghan surprised you by pushing his entire length back until he was snug inside you once more. Then he collapsed on top of you, knocking the wind out of your lungs before rolling over so that he was on his back and you were on his chest.

“Why did it take so long for us to do that?” he asked before pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Maybe because you’re an idiot who heard me moaning out his name on several occasions and decided not to make a move,” you countered, though the tone was light and not meant to seriously insult him.

“Darling, you could have invited me to join you at any point.”

“Yes, but I didn’t have the confirmation that you were into me, but you knew the opposite was true.”

“Hmm, I suppose so.”

“Besides, if I’d have asked you outright then I wouldn’t have gotten to see your jealous side which, let’s face it, is very hot.”

Jeonghan’s arms tightened around your body. You looked up to find him staring down at you.

“You’re not planning to invite anyone else into your bed just to see me jealous again, are you?” he asked, eyes narrowed.

You let out a laugh and pressed a few reassuring kisses along his jawline.

“Of course not, Jeonghan. Even in my thoughts I don’t think anyone else would compare to what you could do to me. Now that I know how well you’ll treat me in bed, I won’t hesitate to call for you through the portal before I start touching myself.” Your words put a self-satisfied grin on Jeonghan’s face.

“You know, it’s not just in bed that I’ll treat you well. I’d give you the world if you’d ask it of me,” he whispered.

“Oh yeah? And how exactly would a Devil-human relationship work? Sounds a little complicated to me,” you answered. You didn’t intend to be contrary, in fact you liked the idea of being more than just fuck buddies with Jeonghan very much, but sometimes there was more to consider than just your feelings when making a decision.

“Complicated, sure, but nothing I wouldn’t mind figuring out if it meant being with you,” he admitted.

You snuggled closer to Jeonghan’s chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath you.

“No, I wouldn’t mind that either.”

#kpop smut #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan x reader #seventeen x reader

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telefonemast · 3 months

Text

Count the days where I felt whole

This is my first time writing literally anything lmao, I'm editing and posting stuff semi-consistently. If u take some time to read this, thank you! (https://archiveofourown.org/works/53395966/chapters/135145096)

- Starts shortly before the Ceroba fight in true pacifist. As Clover is haunted by fragments of past resets as he goes through the underground. He's been able to push forward so far, but when he's betrayed by the only person who hasn't killed him yet, will he finally snap? Ceroba has been planning this moment for a while now, and although she's gotten a bit attached to her human companion, she knows what she has to do. But in the end, will she stop herself from repeating past mistakes, or will she follow through? Cringe description, ik, but what I'm putting here isn't super long, and I have more planned, so if you stop to read this at all I'd be over the moon! As I said before, this is still mostly WIP, the story isn't going to change, but I'm trying to improve, any and all constructive criticism is welcome (please, I need feedback)

Since falling down, Clover’s original purpose of finding the fallen children had slowly faded to the background. He wasn’t stupid, he was able to quickly figure out rather quickly that the missing humans were long dead. With nowhere to go back to, and his purpose gone, for a while, Clover just decided to allow Flowey to drive him forward. He knew Flowey was lying to him, but the flower clearly needed Clover for something, and that was reason enough for him.

He learned early on that almost every encounter started with a fight. Clover was able to peacefully resolve each run-in with some fast footwork and quick thinking. The battles were even a bit entertaining in their own way, and it never felt like there was any real malice directed towards him.

However, the monsters he encountered didn’t seem to register the fact that his body was fragile. He didn’t blame them, most of them probably had no idea how weak human children were. But, as he made his way through the Dark Ruins, it became more and more difficult for him to emerge unscathed. He figured out that he could heal himself with food after an encounter in Snowdin, where a crab monster had pinched his arm hard enough to pierce skin; and since then his supply of items had started to dwindle.

The first peaceful interaction he had with any monster, aside from Toriel, was at the Snowdin Resort. Most of the monsters had never even seen a human, and those that had were simply curious. The more he talked with them, the more he realized that the monsters had been trapped down here unfairly, unjustly. He saw it in their eyes, a buried despair that was only barely covered by a facade of optimism. Most of them had nothing to do with the war, let alone the fallen children; so why had they been left down here to rot? Finally he had real purpose, something worth working towards no matter how vague and impossible the task seemed.

He pressed on, doing his best to shoulder a portion of their burden so that he could give them a fraction of the happiness they had been robbed of. So that he wouldn’t be forgotten.

The first time he died was during what he thought was his first encounter with Martlet. During his battle with the blue bird monster, a feather had gotten dangerously close to his soul. He blinked, and for a split second he saw the feather he had just dodged pierce clean through his left arm, causing him to fall to his knees in pain. While he was preoccupied with the unexpected wound, another feather slammed through his forehead, snapping him back to the present, blinking away tears at the sudden phantom pain.

Afterwards the visions became more prevalent, MUCH more prevalent. Every encounter brought with it a near constant onslaught of memories that Clover forced himself to ignore.

I've only gotten this far because of it right? Without this pain I wouldn't have been able to accomplish anything, without this curse I wouldn’t be useful to anyone.

Besides, he could take it, he had to.

He tried to convince himself that Starlo, Martlet, and the others hadn’t meant to kill him in those memories. It was just his fault for being incompetent, he was doing enough that they didn't want him dead. Right?

As much as he desperately wanted to open up to his new companions, being with them only caused him to spiral deeper into the pit of doubt he had dug.

The only exception was Ceroba. She may not have been the most compassionate monster, but Clover felt an odd type of assurance when he was with her. He sympathized with her quest to obtain justice for her daughter Kanako, and without her he would have died, or at least died more than he already had, attempting to navigate the Steamworks.

However, the biggest reason Clover felt at ease with Ceroba wasn’t because of what she had done, but because of what she hadn’t. When he was with her, he didn’t have to worry about having memories of false death's flash before his eyes.

She was calm, collected, and for some reason cared about him enough to protect him during their journey together. After she began to open up more about her daughter, Clover found himself wishing he had a parent like her to protect him, to make him feel worth something.

Clover knew good things never lasted forever, but was it really too much to hope that she could care for someone like him? ______________________________________________________________________

Pink leaves floated slowly through the air, pushed steadily to the ground by the whispering wind. Clover stands up to face Ceroba, stopping only to quickly glance at the prone forms of Martlet and Starlo. Ceroba stared down at him, eyes filled with a dark determination.

“Clover… I… I'm sorry for what I've done.”, Ceroba’s voice sounded almost uncertain now, a stark contrast to the anger and conviction moments prior, “I almost wish you never showed up in the Wild East. Maybe then I could've continued to bury my sorrows in the Saloon.”

Clover's gaze was locked onto the Kitsune, one of the few people he thought he could consider safe.

“But now... I must follow through with my mission. I've somehow grown to respect the hell out of you but… At the end of the day, you're naive. There is so much you don't understand about monsters. What, did you think you'd jump down here and find them? Five humans, living out their lives, unharmed… That isn't how it works.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Clover whispered, he may be a child, but he wasn’t stupid.

Ceroba continued, “Then what? Was your plan to plead for a free ticket back to the Surface? He only needs two more SOULS to shatter the barrier. Wouldn't hesitate for a SECOND to make that one. But who am I to criticize how he carries out business?”

Her head jerked back and a tense laugh escaped her mouth, “Here I am about to do the very same thing I am a hypocrite. I am no better than Asgore on a scale of morality, I'm sure of it. But what I am, is proactive. Truthfully… I have nothing left in life, so I've made peace with throwing it away.” At this, some of the tension drains from Ceroba’s face, but only for a moment as she locks eyes with Clover.

“Nothing left? You had Starlo! You had the gang, the town!” Clover screamed.

You had me.

But it was clear that Ceroba wasn’t listening anymore.

“You'll fight back, but you can't forever. Goodbye.”

Clover gripped the handle of his toy gun as he prepared to draw. He thought back to his battles with Starlo, Martlet, the Feisty Five… Even if the resets had taken a toll on him, he truly believed that they didn’t want him dead, that they cared.

Now, he was facing down the one person who seemed to realize that he was a child, someone who had helped him without killing him; and now she wanted him dead.

Ceroba twirled her tasseled staff through the air and Clover yanked his gun out of its holster. His soul appeared, and the small rooftop faded to monochrome… and for the first time in Ceroba’s presence, his vision went black.

In the memory, a ball of beautiful crimson flame burst from the ground behind him, striking through his chest and killing him instantly. Clover braced himself for the phantom pain that usually accompanied each vision, only to scream out as his entire body burned with the heat of a flame that wasn’t there.

His vision flashed black again, this time he was hit from the front, another flash, from the sky this time. Body and eyes alight in agony, another scream tore itself from his mouth as countless visions, countless deaths piled on top of each other. Clover stared up at Ceroba with wide eyes, panting with exertion even though the fight hadn’t even begun.

Tipping the brim of his hat down so it covered his eyes, Clover realized that this wasn’t a fight he could win by deescalating, this was a duel for survival, and Ceroba wanted him dead.

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raventroll80 · 2 months

Text

A Beast on Mars

Chapter 3 (Rewrite)

The Last Human on Mars

(I wasn't too happy with the original ending to this chapter so I rewrote it. Big thanks to @horseyneigh2002 for giving the new ending a read through before I posted it!)

Edit: I forgot the warnings! This chapter contains description of graphic injury, a lot of blood, and death.

Mim Digsby was a rather unremarkable person, they were just below average height with a somewhat stocky build, but they never thought it’d come in handy until they had to hide from the risen corpse of a security guard. They usually kept their hair short as they felt it was more hassle than it was worth, though they never thought they’d be grateful for it until they watched a co-worker get dragged into the vents by her hair. Mim mostly worked maintenance now, and knew the vents like the back of their hands, but they never knew that it’d ever save them from the demons that now prowled the halls of the UAC.

It had started like any other day, Mim had been scheduled to do some basic maintenance on some machinery in the morning before switching to excavation in the afternoon… that was until the screaming had started. One of the security guards had gone to investigate but seconds later he came running back firing at something howling behind him, then the something pounced on him and began to disembowel the man.

Mim and their co-workers had immediately fled the room only for another one of these… things to jump them. The only warning they had gotten was the stench of sulfur and a flash of red light before that thing, that demon just appeared. It stood maybe six, maybe seven feet tall, its body was covered in thick yellow chitin with jagged spikes jutting out of its body. Its eyes, god its eyes… they burned into them like argent. Mim watched as the imp gutted Samson in one swift motion, his body had dropped like a sack of hammers, his blood spilling out onto the floor. Mim could still hear his screams as the demon didn’t even wait for him to bleed out, thank god they hadn’t looked. The lockdown alarms were blaring but the doors refused to shut, something was wrong with the protocols… if the lockdown wouldn’t engage properly then there’d be nowhere for people to hide. Emerson, a technician, suggested that they go and manually engage the lockdown at the southside control room, given their lack of options everyone agreed to go. But things only got worse from there.

Mim had to lead the small group of survivors through the maintenance tunnels, during this they had passed through an observation deck where a large almost ape like monster shattered the glass. Georges and Amsbury got dragged out by the air pressure while Harris had been grabbed the massive monster. Within seconds their group of five became a band of two, Mim and Emerson had barely made it to the cargo elevator when they were jumped by yet another imp. It had managed to slash Emerson across the chest before Mim was able to blast its head apart with the shotgun she had taken from a dead guard. The demon slumped over, it’s bright red blood pooling on the floor. Mim had tried their best to stop the bleeding but it just kept pouring out. They tried convincing Emerson to come and look for a medical station, but he refused, claimed that he was fine, that it only looked worse than it actually was…

God why did they believe him…

As the elevator came to a stop the two heard the chime that accompanied an announcement over the intercom, but instead of VEGA or some other automated message it was Dr. Pierce and pit formed in their stomachs as she spoke.

“I believe in honesty, especially now, in what will be your final moments in this world. All the rumors, the human sacrifices, the Hell portal, the demons… it’s all true…”

The two gave each other a grave look before climbing the blood-soaked stairs as Dr. Pierce continued her speech.

“My brothers and sisters be thankful, you will be the first, you will have a seat along side them just as I will in what will become the new world, they create for us… starting now…” Instead of another chime indicating the broadcast was over a demonic scream blared over the intercoms.

Emerson was able to stop the broadcast from repeating before forcing the lockdown protocols to engage. The technician looked out over the Martian landscape, the blue sunrise slowly creeping over the horizon.

“If Pierce is already on their side, then how many of the others are too… if we just leave it on then some, some cultist could just swing by and turn the lockdown back off. Hel- fuck, we don’t even know if VEGA is still on our side!” Emerson said in frustration, staring down at the consol with a contemplative look.

“Then what do you think we should do…”

“You think you can shut the power off?”

“Yea, there’s a main generator not too far from here. I can use the access vents to get to it. What are you going to do?” Mim asked, not entirely sure what to make of the situation.

“I’m gonna lock VEGA out from accessing the terminal digitally. If he’s really on our side then he can come turn the power back on himself.”

Emerson initiated some sort of malware or firewall before giving Mim the go ahead and Mim jumped down into the maintenance vent. Through the dark tunnels of wires and metal Mim crawled, until they found the main generator. They logged into the access terminal and shut off the power to the Res Ops facility. Mim hoped they’d given people enough time, or that there were any people left. It was deathly quiet as the facility shifted to emergency power. Normally it wouldn’t, but with the emergency lockdown protocol in effect prior to main power shutdown the facility forces the use of the backup generators. The quiet of the facility felt crushing as Mim crawled back to the control room. Something felt off as the mechanic drew near. It was too quiet, something was missing…

“Emerson!” Mim called out as they realized that they could no longer hear the technicians ragged breathing.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit…” they muttered as they scrambled out of the vent but it was too late. Emerson was dead.

The man was slumped over, his back against the console, clothes drenched in blood. Mim took a few shaky breaths as they processed the situation. Chances where the casualties were in the thousands, and if they were being realistic… then Mim Digsby was possibly the last human left on Mars.

“God damn it Emerson… why didn’t you listen to me,” Mim pressed their forehead against Emersons before stumbling out of the control room, their body was still shaking from the shock and reality of the situation. They needed to find somewhere safe, somewhere to hide and hope there was anyone left to rescue them.

Mim didn’t know if it had been hours or days that had passed, somewhere in that time they had managed to find a chainsaw. Why was there a chainsaw on Mars? Who cares, it’s a chainsaw! Like they were just going to pass the offer of a free chainsaw in a time like this. Besides, chainsaws are great communicators when it came to the undead. Just as Mim had finished airing their grievances with a zombie they’d found in a locker room an explosion boomed from outside, causing the lockers to rattle and Mim to jolt and accidentally wedge the chainsaw deeper into the corpse. Before they could try to remove the weapon, another explosion rocked the room and demons began howling as what sounded like heavy artillery went off.

“Was it the marines? The Elite Guard?” Mim abandoned the chainsaw and climbed through an access vent to the offices above to investigate the sounds, though what they saw was far from what they had been hoping for. There, just outside the building was a behemoth of a monster clinging to the very structure they were standing in. The creature appeared to be fighting the demons outside of the locker room, though fighting was a strong word for what was happening, it was more of a bloodbath if anything. The room shook violently as another explosion rocked the cargo bay outside. The glass rattled menacingly but thankfully didn’t shatter, thank god. Mim scurried back from the window as the behemoth slaughtered the last of the demons. In their haste, Mim had knocked over a chair and alerted the massive demon. They had barely made it into the vent before the behemoth was tearing its way into the room.

Mim quietly watched as the massive creature began searching the room. Was it looking for them? God they hoped not, that thing just tore through the building like it was cardboard! Granted this wasn’t the strongest of building in the Mars facility, but the point still stood that this thing, whatever it was, would catch Mim within seconds. The mechanic watched as the creature inspected the health station in an almost curious manner. Tilting its head inquisitively, before turning it slightly as though it were listening to someone or something. Its curiosity apparently satisfied, the great beast turned around and proceeded to smash in the glass to one of the storage rooms.

“Holy shit, holy shit, I need to fucking leave” Mim hissed to themselves and they started to shimmy further into the vent. That glass was at least an inch and a half thick and that thing just shattered it like it was nothing.

Mim heard the creature walk back out to the cargo bay, catching a glimpse of it beginning to scale the wall, it’s clawed gauntlets digging into the stone. Part of them was slightly in awe of the massive beast, but overall Mim was terrified. The massive thing, looked to be nearly 16 feet tall, it could probably eat them in one bite if it wanted to. Mim shuddered at the thought, “Nope, nu-uh, nah…” The monster’s armour was complex, not too unlike that of Hayden’s Elite Guards though it was a deep green colour instead of the guards imposing red and black armour. Though Mim couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d seen it before…

A raspy hiss rattled from behind the mechanic, filling them with dread before sharp claws dug into their legs and dragged them off into the darkness of the facility. Mim was barely able to let out a scream before their head was slammed into the vent and everything went black.

As the Slayer climbed up the walls of the cargo bay, he heard a faint sound echo from below. As quick as it came it was gone, but the sound was unmistakable. It was a scream, and not just any scream; a human scream. The Slayer looked back down to the platform below, should he go look? What if they were already dead? He watched as several field drones entered the room below and fanned out. One of the drones separated from the group and hovered up to him. That familiar chime sounded in his helmet garnering an annoyed growl from the behemoth.

“I apologize for the repeated interruptions but one of the nearby cameras picked up what I believe to be a human scream. The sound originated from this sector and I wanted to know if you heard anything. The cameras have been malfunctioning, replaying audio and visuals from the start of the incident. I do not know what is causing this malfunction but it is impairing my ability to search for survivors so I will need your help in locating any potential survivors.” The Slayer huffed, clearly getting impatient with the AI.

“I do not know what your stance is on humans as a whole, but I can tell you already have a distain for the UAC. But I must ask that you please keep an eye out for any survivors.” VEGA waited for a response from the Slayer, but all he got was a soft growl from the behemoth.

VEGA left the Slayer to return to his mission, concern starting to build in his processors. Could he trust the Slayer to protect, let alone inform him of any survivors? VEGA hadn’t even been able to recover the field drone that he’d destroyed, he couldn’t even find any evidence of its existence aside from a few scraps from the outer shell… did he eat it? No, he couldn’t have. The Slayer may be a brute, but even he should know that a drone wasn’t even remotely edible. Right?

He could only hope the Slayer would be kinder to a human than he was to a machine.

The Slayer followed the elevator tracks up the chasm and into what appeared to be a mining tunnel or a cut-through point in the facility. The tunnel was long and dark, lit only by the dim string of lights that hung from the walls and ceiling. Checking his map, the Slayer confirmed that this was indeed the way forward. The giant grumbled as he walked down the cold tunnel. He was certain there was a faster route to the gore nest but VEGA was (regrettably) right. As much as he wanted to tear the UAC apart, he needed to be mindful of any potential survivors. Sure, the chances of anyone surviving this long were slim, but he didn’t want to take that risk. As he walked through the tunnel he passed by a group of corpses. Bodies both human and demon were strewn about, it appeared this group chose to make this their final stand, though it was clear the battle had no winners. Further investigation revealed that in an attempt to close off the tunnel or possibly destroy the Gore Nest ahead, the workers had loaded containers of explosives onto trolleys and carts, their lids hastily removed in a last-ditch effort to try and blow up the attacking demons.

Slayer thought about taking the explosive with him, but without the detonator they’d be harder to use. As he contemplated the explosives, the Slayer spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. Expecting a demon trying to get the drop on him, he whipped around and was about to fire at the movement, but stopped himself just short of pulling the trigger when he spotted the source of the movement.

There, slumped against the wall was a human barely clinging to life, staring at him with a fearful expression smeared across their bloodied face. Their body was heavily scarred; thick deep gashes across their stomach, their clothes torn and drenched in blood, a large chunk had been taken out of his right shoulder, their left leg had been torn to bloody ribbons while the right leg was nothing more than a bloody stump. The Slayer froze, not sure how to proceed, how the poor man was still alive was beyond him.

Slowly, the Doom Slayer approached the injured human, who quickly held up a small rectangular box, causing the behemoth to freeze. They had a detonator, if he wasn’t careful and scared the human too much then he’d bring the whole tunnel down on both of them. Carefully the Slayer his gun down and raised his hands in the air. The human gave him a suspicious look as he took his finger off the button but still refused to drop the detonator. Once again, the Slayer began to slowly approach the human, his tail slightly raised as to not let it scrape across the ground. Eventually the Slayer managed to walk up to the dying human and sat down next to him, the next few moments were oddly peaceful given the circumstances, the human had even put down the detonator and leaned his back against the wall.

The human huffed and closed his eyes, seemingly trusting the Slayer not to kill them in this moment of respite, their breath ragged and shaky. Carefully, while their eyes were closed, the Slayer wrapped his clawed hands around the injured human’s torso and pulled him close. The human in question, quickly scrambled in an attempt to grab the detonator before but all they managed to was aggravate their injuries, so instead he threw his arms over his head and braced for whatever violent end he was about to meet… but it never came.

Instead, they were placed in the lap of this strange behemoth as it removed its gloves and helmet. The creatures face looked almost human but not quite right, it-he? Stared down at the man before gently lifting their body up once more, but instead of biting his head off, the Slayer instead held him close to his chest. A soft rumbling began to emerge from deep within the behemoth.

The Doom Slayer leaned his back against the well as he felt the human slowly begin to calm down, but something felt… off. Instead of the grooved stone of the tunnel, the Slayer’s back was leaned against the cool metal of a wall, the sharp stinging scent of chemicals assaulted his nostrils. Where was he? Mars? No, that’s not right. He wasn’t stationed on Mars, it was Phobos he got sent to… wait. If he was on Phobos, then why was he holding a miner? Miners weren’t stationed on Phobos. The Behemoth huffed, stale cave air filling his lungs, the rancid chemical smell quickly fading from his memory as he felt the human squirming under his grasp.

The Slayer quickly realized that his grip on the human had gotten tighter, hurting the poor thing. The Slayer loosened his grip and tried to give the poor man a reassuring pat with the pad of his thumb which only garnered frightened whimper. Feeling even worse for the dying human the Hellwalker tried to croak out an apology as he set the human back down in his lap, but all that came out were garbled bellows as blood began to bubble in his throat. The no-longer man quickly stopped his attempt only to realize the miner had gone still, his eyes glazed over and lifeless. The behemoths shoulders sagged and huffed as he came to the realization that the human had died.

Looking back down at his bloody hands and chestplate, down at the dark red blood from the human mixing with the bright crimson of the demons. Gently he set the still warm body down upon the cold stone of the tunnel and made a mournful sound the taste his own blood tingled in the back of his throat. As the Doom Slayer stood up, donning his helmet once more, sorrow quickly turning into anger as he remembered why he was here and that Hell was to blame for this. Checking his map, he confirmed that the Gore Nest was at the end of this godforsaken tomb, and with a vicious snarl he snatched up the crates of explosives and charged down the tunnel with blood on his lips and fury burning in his chest.

Within seconds the Hellwalker found himself at the end of the tunnel looking out into a much larger cargo bay. Across from him, the Gore Nest hung, suspended by thick sinewy cables that attached themselves to gore covered support beams. From his position, the Slayer could see the Gore Nest’s beating heart and a circle of zombies knelt around a sigil. The Unchained Predator threw the crates onto the demonic structure before lobbing a grenade towards it and firing. An explosion shook the room and the Gore Nest screamed in pain and with a running leap the Doom Slayer jumped onto it, shoving the still burning barrel of his shotgun against its putrid heart and fired.

#my writing #g/t #giant tiny #troll! doomguy au #A Beast on Mars #the rewritten chapter is also up on my ao3 too #tw gore #tw graphic injury #tw death

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movedmovedsoup · 2 years

Text

“Likewise”

robin x gn! reader. PART 2/3!

the first chapter is right here! feel free to read :)//

edit: i originally made this a little too long for my liking so yes ! there will be a next part but it’ll be definitely a whole lot more shorter, just to wrap things up :)💕//

subjecta13-thefangirl

taglist !

@multi-simp-page

@telmawang-blog

@utopiabby

@subjecta13-thefangirl

@brunettebri

it had been six months, practically almost half a year since the two of you have well..interacted. you tried to turn more into normalcy, trying to push away your feelings for robin. hell, you even tried to talk up billy showalter to ignore the ache you felt in the pits of your stomach. you tried talking to the damn paperboy!! it just went to show how badly you wanted to return to how things originally were. your worst fear had came true. things weren’t going to be the same after that rainy day. instead of walking the halls with robin and finney by your side, you found yourself walking the halls with donna and gwen, sometimes finney had caught up to you and stayed by your side some days.

anytime finney wanted to do something, obviously with you and robin. robin would very quickly say he suddenly had something that popped up preventing from hanging out with the two of you. it left you with a pang in your heart, one of anxiety and a bit of shame. you couldn’t help but feel like you just ruined the whole friendship, years and years going down the drain. everytime you saw him around a lump in your throat would form. legs feeling weak and identical to jelly. you had caught him glancing at you during classes or if you were at the l local ‘grab n go’ when he was. yet you were too chicken to look back at him, knowing if you did words would immediately start to fall out without any warning. and you didn’t want to make matters worse than they already were. surprisingly enough robin’s and your own mother didn’t seem to notice the lost connection between the two of you. simply thinking the two of you were just busy and called on the phone whenever you could.

oh you really wished

you wished that was the matter, you wished robin still came to you whenever he had gotten into a fight, you wished he still hung out with you and finney as a group. all you could do was wish and wish. and obviously wishing wasn’t going to do shit. now you were completely sure he wanted absolutely nothing to do with you, zero, zilch, none. it was now october ‘78. the only good thing that came out of the whole messy situation was that you got closer to finney. sure the two of you were close but not exactly as close as you were with robin. and vise versa for him considering robin introduced the two of you. but for the most part, with some slight adjustments in social circles. everything was the same as it was months prior. finney was crushing hard on donna, robin kept on beating people up, and you? well you were just doing your own thing.. as you always did. walking home to your house, twisting open the front door you spotted some fancy looking lady talking to your mother, to which you found quite suspicious but didn’t seem to care a whole lot to attach yourself to the conversation. shrugging the confused feeling away, immediately thinking it’s some type of friend from work maybe? boss even? sneaking up the stairs as you dropped your semi-worn out bag onto the hardwood floor of the room.

rubbing your face with exhaustion from the day you had just finished, about to lay down and soak in the mundane life you had to get used to now that a key part of your routine was gone. seeing as your mother slammed the door open, as she usually did. not seeing why she should knock.

you immediately shot right back up giving her a quizzical look. immediately you knew something was uo. from the way her face formed into a weary smile and soft tone as she sat down at the foot of your bed. immediately you started to think about what you could’ve done that made her this way. racking your brain left and right you didn’t seem to hear the rest of her statement as the only words that made it through was.

‘we are moving next week.’

those are the only words you grabbed out of you spacing out on your mother. jaw going slack with slight shock as you blinked a little “what? huh? why?!” immediately as usual your thoughts seemed to race faster than your heart, it was like a competition between the two. mother raised a brow with a confused look on her face. ‘er…i didn’t think you’d be this effected by such a move..?” she admitted with furrowed brows. just everything about this situation made your face twist into a grimace and her response already made the attitude you had even worse if that was possible. everything just felt like it was crumbling down and if it couldn’t possibly be worse it somehow did. asking your mother to just give you a moment, she got the memo and walked out of the room as you laid there. staring up at the ceiling. glancing over at your door which was cracked open, enough where you could see the house phone that was stuck on the wall. you couldn’t help but stare at it, hoping that just magically the phone would ring, and when it did ring it would be robin. but of course it didn’t, why would it ring? the last time he had looked at you his face didn’t hold a ounce of being happy with you. he looked..no short of disgusted. well, you thought he didn’t anyways.

but little did you know he was beating himself up for it big time. of course he liked you! he has been liking you for the longest time! robin didn’t understand why he acted the way he did that day. sure, the boy wasn’t much of a romantic..at all. but it was just different when he was around you. almost like nothing could bother him at all, and for the most part, nothing did bother him when you were by his side. he was getting into a whole lot more fights now that you weren’t right there to slap some sense into him. the only person who was able to do that was finney.

who was desperately trying to bring you two back together again. robin appreciated the effort but he couldn’t stand there next to you, he was no short of ashamed and embarrassed. the situation was the type of situation that you would think of late at night and cringe because of how unpleasant it was. now he wasn’t sure how to return back to normalcy, the only way he could make things more bearable was when you weren’t right there next to him, reminded him of the mistake he made, leading you on as if you were some lost puppy. in the mornings it was equally as harsh. considering the two of you lived in the same neighborhood, literally just a mere four houses down. he noticed you in the morning as he walked to school, he noticed when you started to ride that stupid bike you fell on so many times to school, he noticed that damn paperboy riding alongside you with that usual friendly smile.

it had been around four days since you got the news you were moving. not knowing if you were going to move schools you had prepared yourself just incase. tearfully telling finney and the rest of your friends, l including paperboy who, for the record the two of you were just new friends. as a goodbye present finney had bought you a big bag of your favorite candy in hopes it’ll make you feel better. sure, it wasn’t the biggest gesture to the usual person but to you it definitely was. giving the boy a big hug almost suffocating him to death before taking the routes to your own homes. seeing as the living room was packed in boxes, so was the kitchen and the hallway knickknack’s. it made you sigh going up to your room to get a start on packing things away.

first you started to pack some little things like photos, birthday cards, letters. back, facing the door as you sat on your rug. the majority of these things included robin in these, from graduating preschool to just random photos the two of you would take whenever you felt like it. the more your hands flipped through the photographs the more tears started to flood the line of vision. it wasn’t just sadness, it was anger. he had known you all these years, the two of you had been through everything together, learned how to ride a bike, he taught you how to defend yourself. the list just goes on. and he just ended the friendship like it was absolutely nothing. what if it was nothing?

#the black phone 2022 #bruce yamada #the grabber #billy showalter #bruce yamada x reader #robin arellano #the black phone x reader #robin the black phone #robin arellano x reader #vance hopper x reader #vance hopper

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 2 years

Text

The Janus Maker

https://www.patreon.com/empyreaniris?fan_landing=true

https://starr-fall-knight-rise.tumblr.com/post/182501791735/master-post

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1jzEIdDAB4omdO2JcQVMObfrhLJ5kX4ONmSsLypM1ks0/edit?usp=sharing

The souls of the damned, provided a blazing amber light as they funneled down from a burning, fiery sky turning into a sharp vortex that plunged like a spear into the maw of the obsidian spire.

The necrotorium huffed and churned, like a man taking long, desperate drags on a half done cigarette, breath coming in long fiery gasps. Deep below the earth, the ground rumbled and churned with an ever present tremor. Distant screams echoed faintly on the wind as the incoming flood of souls were pressed, burned, tortured and torn, juiced like lemons to extract the sweet power that existed at their core.

The obsidian courtyard flickered with the light of the damned, and the slow sweeping crinoline of darkness.

At the head of it all, General Kazna sat swathed in a gown of blackness and armored in dark, sinister steel. The trident she held towered nearly sixteen feet into the air, its obsidian black edges glittering with a hungry edge, like the saliva that drips from a hellhound's teeth. Her molten gold eyes burned from the depth of her shadowed helm, as she cast her eyes over her subjects.

This was not the fertile belt of Anin, not the blazing miles of moss under Chal or the burning ash of the dark season, but it was the empire she had made with her own steel.

Before her, the obsidian floor crawled with her waiting subjects, creatures and things swathed in sheets of darkness, and halo’s of sickly orange light. They were aliens, humans and Tesraki, and Drev, but also corrupted Makers, their dim golden aura splotchy and flickering disconnected from the light of their beloved Revelation. Everette stood at her side, his body awash with flickering golden light dimming towards orange at the edges, more a patchwork than solid halo.

It had taken him a while to recover from being blown apart by Vir and his people, and still the Maker wasn’t quite at full power, not that that had been much to shake a stick at to begin with. His Anima had been weak on the back of his death, gone mad and turned towards cannibalism in his last days.

To be honest, there really wasn’t much to work with.

She had originally hoped to replace Everette with Emperor Celex, but the wily bastard had been stronger than she anticipated. She had assumed, with what she knew about him, his past as a Maker and his present as a warlord that he would be easy to turn, but instead he had given up his bid for power and cast his lots in with the wrong side.

It seemed as if her efforts to break him, had robbed him of his fire , his hunger for power.

It was a real pity. She could certainly have used him for greater things.

Kazna tapped her fingers on the edge of her glass throne and brooded softly.

There was little true power in this room, but plenty of greed. A lot of little people making themselves out to be bigger than they were. The strongest things here lurked in the shadows, hunkered in the dark corners and watched from above, indescribable and unknowing.

But there was something else emanating from the shadows. At first she didn’t notice its presence over the cold aura of darkness that seemed to permeate the room around her, but as she sat the more she became aware of another presence, a powerful presence lurking in the darkness just behind her and over her right shoulder. Finally, managing to attribute the feeling to a location, she could feel it with more power now, like a warm halo of light cast from the sun or a gently crackling fire pit. The sensation was surprisingly pleasant, like the gentle wash of waves in a warm sea, contemptuously powerful.

Kazna straightened her back with something approaching concern, but refused to show it as she relaxed languidly against the dark glass, “I do not allow just anyone to lurk in my shadow.”

She felt the figure step forward, and heard its footsteps on the ground.

So it had a corporeal form, that was good. If it tried anything, she could always stick it through the guts with her trident, and be done with the whole thing, but still she refused to look, relying on her instincts to guide her.

The warm power continued to wash over her in gentle thrumming pulses like a steady beating heart.

She could feel the thing, standing at her shoulder and looking on at the mingling crowd.

This was Maker power, she was sure of it, not simply Everettes power, weak and tenuous as it was.

This was the real deal, a powerful aura from an even more powerful source.

For a moment she was almost worried.

Had the Architect sent an assassin.

But no that didn’t seem like his style, besides he had bigger problems to attend to. The war she was waging on behalf of the void was a war against the constructs.

“A leader who surrounds themselves with weak subjects is not much of a leader at all.” The voice said stiffly, and Kazna felt herself bristle slightly, finally turning to examine her powerful visitor. Everett, having failed to sense them up until now, also turned with a streak of surprise on his face.

Upon seeing their visitor, Kazna half rose, adjusting her hand on the haft of her spear.

Everette raised his hand, sputtering orange power flickering at his fingertips., which almost died the moment he lay eyes on their visitor. His mouth dropped open in silent recognition.

The human looked over the two of them with an expression of utter contempt, her cold gray and hazel ringed eyes unwavering even as Kazna towered over her. Short flaxen hair stuck in general untidiness from the crown of her skull. She did not bother to hide the contempt on her face as she stared out at the waiting floor.

“Renegade” Everette breathed.

Kazna knew the name, knew both the name and the face.

Maverick…..

She thought that’s what the human had gone by in its construct form, and thought it was still a construct she could sense the fraying edges of the theater that held the soul tenuously to the body.

Maverick no longer.

Kazna sat back down in her chair, uneasy.

Renegade’s light did not flicker, or dim with void touch despite the creature that lurked inside of her. She wasn’t the only person in this crowd that had taken on a visitor, but somehow she managed to be the only one whose Anima had not begun to erode. She wasn’t the only person here with a visitor, but she radiated an easy, power

“Renegade.” She repeated.

For a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of hatred pass over the construct’s lips before it faded into a frown of distaste.

She knew about this one. The void had informed her of Renegade’s existence, herpossible corruption to the other side. But here she was, and without trying to shove something metal and edged down Kazna’s throat. That at least was a good sign.

Kazna may have been the power here, but even she knew there were some forms of fire you didn’t play with. From what she had heard Renegade was old and powerful. The older an anima gets the more powerful it is. Deus may have been born powerful but the architect’s old guard were in a class all their own. This one was rumored to have been on the architect’s right hand since the dawn of the very universe itself.

Its one biggest failing.

Pride and envy

Kazna could work with that.

“A pleasure you could join us.” Kazna said easing into the conversation as if she had expected the Maker’s presence all along, again, she thought she detected a hint of distaste on the Maker’s face. It came in a sharp snap of expressions.

It was a rather odd sensation, like she was looking at two different people.

One was utterly bored with her surroundings, the other was seething with hatred.

Her aura flared even hotter, even more gold for a second before dying away. The auras were not visible to everyone in the crowd, so no one turned to look, but Kazna could see it as plain as day. Every time the Maker’s face changed to anger, the aura brightened, became more gold purifying almost towards white, but as soon as the expression vanished the aura dimmed, still powerful but not…. Quite.

Renegade did not return the pleasantries, “I certainly hope these are not what passes for your soldiers.”

Kazna bristled again, unwilling to be questioned in her own territory by an interloper.

“No, simply those who help to finance this venture. We may be using the power of the void, but the power of the void does not create spaceships.”

The maker grunted noncommittally.

“Admiral Vir isn’t going to kill himself, unfortunately.”

The golden aura flared, and just for a moment, a look of absolute rage passed over the Maker’s face. The expression created such a change that it was almost as if kazna was looking at a completely different person. WIth the look of rage came a sudden flare of golden light, so hot it could have burned off the impurities from the walls around her. The maker stepped forward fists twitching as if she planned on striking Kazna, but the expression was gone almost as soon as it had appeared.

Interesting, she wasn’t yet sure what to make of that.

WHen the aura dimmed, the face looked almost annoyed, jaw clenching, “He’s just a human. By this point I assume you could have managed something.

Kazna laughed, “It’s not the pilot I am worried about, this was never about him.”

The Maker frowned.

“His power is little in comparison to hers.” Kazna mused. The sentence was hard to say without a sneer

“Apotheosis,” Renegade said, “Then why go after him so fervently.”

Kazna worked her jaw, “The stupid little human owes me a blood debt.”

Renegade snorted, “Your battle partner’s life is it. You understand he is still alive in all the senses that matter. Lanus, fights for the Architect now.”

Kazna bristled again, “You keep your tongue to yourself.”

Renegade didn’t so much as flinch, “I doubt this will win his favor, as if your relationship wasn’t a shambles already.”

Kazna stood towering over the small human and took a step closer.

Renegade didn’t even have the courtesy to flinch.

She looked up at Kazna and then back at the floor before her, where bodies still mingled.

“Void help you.” She said before turning and vanishing back into the darkness

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hismercytomyjustice · 23 days

Text

If I had to guess, I’d say I’m writing at about 50% my usual speed because of how much research I’ve been doing for this fic. orz

More fic stuff below:

So far today it’s been research on Lolth and her former boo. And looking at maps trying to figure out what to incorporate in the two chapters I’m having to add closer to the beginning.

I’ve had to go back twice now, which has been super weird for me because I’ve always been a hardcore linear writer. I start at the beginning and go until the end.

Tbh I didn’t know if I could even DO that. Go back and add something, I mean. It’s just not how my writing brain has worked in the past.

I wound up going back twice before already, I think when I was at chapter four, to add a whole other scene to chapter two because it felt too abrupt.

I know it’s discouraged to edit while writing, but this was more so adding than editing?

I tend to write short, I think. I more often find myself having to add things rather than remove. Maybe that’s why the concept of “killing your darlings” has always been a little foreign to me. I don’t have enough darlings to kill. T_T

It’s kind of funny to think about though. Apparently ADHDers tend to have more divergent thinking than convergent thinking, but I think I’ve always treated what little outlining/brainstorming (bullet points of ideas for scenes) I do divergently while I’ve treated my actual writing convergently. I’m also a pantser, though I don’t love the word.

The second time, I was on chapter nine and realized not enough had happened between chapters eight and nine, so I added two new chapters there too. Or at least I think that’s where it was?

This time around I was on chapter 10 before I realized my already heavy Astarion story needed more Gale focused bits. I’ve gone back to add two new chapters after chapter four to fix this.

Who even am I anymore?! 💀 I don’t write like this. This feels illegal. 💀💀💀

It’s been nice having tumblr to externalize my thoughts on the whole process and on my writing in general though. More often than not, I’m hyperaware of all the little things I’m experiencing but I struggle to see the big picture. Journaling has always helped me with that. I wasn’t intending to journal about this in particular, but it’s helped me learn a lot about myself.

I feel like my writing has come a long way too, even if I struggle to see it most of the time. Like, I can’t believe it’s been seven years since I wrote my Cardcaptors fic.

I’ve actually been rereading a lot of my older fics recently. Having a terrible memory helps, lol. Feels like I’m reading something someone else wrote. Haven’t delved back into my original works though.

For me, with my fics I feel like the main thing I notice is that I could use more description of everything. Meanwhile, in my original stuff I feel like I struggle with description, writing strong side characters and villains, and overall story structure. This is probably true to a degree with my fanfics too, but I can rely more on the fact that, if you’re reading one of my fics, you’ve probably already got a good feel for a lot of that stuff because you already have an interest in the media I’m writing them for.

Right now, writing fics for me feels kind of like having the training wheels back on to a degree. I’m trying to use them to learn in a safer space than in my own head (lol). I am not nice to myself, though I’ve gotten considerably better over the years (yay therapy!). Being able to play in someone else’s world is a lot less fraught with things like “oh god I’m a failure, I’ll never be published, no one will ever like this, you’re wasting your time, what makes you think you can write, etc.”

Welcome back Pure O, it’s been a while! 💀 My OCD thought spirals combined with my perfectionism make my brain a not fun place to be, which makes me freeze up, overthink, and struggle to make any progress. I have spent so much time over the past few years just trying to get myself to write again and to not be so critical of my own work that I never create anything. Lol good thing I have therapy tomorrow because I think I just realized my OCD is probably a big part of what’s been causing that. In addition to good ol’ ADHD.

It also helps that you get immediate feedback with fanfics, at least on what’s working well. It’s hard hammering away at something day after day with no dopamine checks to cash. Especially if you have ADHD. I can spend just as much time on an original work that may never see the light of day, but with fanfic I am bound to get at least some people clicking the little heart icon and feeding the Netherese orb of self-doubt inside me!

Yaaaay self-reflection.

#life things #fanfic #writing #writing struggles #ancient books and horror stories #adhd #ocd #learning to be nicer to myself #look how far we’ve come

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stingslikeabee · 6 months

Note

The news of Melissa's birthday had hit him too quickly. Given two months — sure, Reno might have been able to come up with something spectacular. The only Birthday related things the Turk had planned for anyone was that for his partner, so needless to say he had no clue what to give a woman as a present. He leaned on the women at the HoneyBee Inn for assistance, and after several hours of batting around ideas Reno decided to be true to himself. Partly. Rarely did the Turk take any days off from work, but he decided to cash in on the yearly opportunity to take two days off. An all expenses trip to the Golden Saucer for both he and Melissa had been purchased; that was entirely up the red head's alley. As for something that leaned more towards Melissa's taste, Reno opted for a dress.

It felt like a quick and easy answer, but it had been neither when it came to decided the details of the dress. That required a great deal of input from the honeybees such as choice of colour and, more importantly, dress size. As expensive as one ticket was the dress. It looked pretty enough, he supposed, and it was damn expensive. Delivered in a sleek black box by rush delivery, the dress within was full length and of shimmering emerald. Reno was told green and browns worked well together. The honeybees had also emphasized the importance of accessories, but Reno was not about to rip out his perfect hairs over such trivial matters. Golden Saucer ticket was set inside a plain envelope, and it was attached to the topside of the dress box. He waited for her, not quite in the lobby but neither in her private living area either. Box was held vertically against his body, pinned by his arm, and in his other hand a bottle of expensive champagne was held by the neck. Not Reno's taste, of course, but it was all for the birthday girl.

unscripted asks - birthday edition! . always accepting

Melissa had taught her girls well - preparations for her birthday had been done right under her nose and she failed to detect anything amiss; after all, the inn was always buzzing with excitement for one thing or another and historically there had been some surprise celebrations. The madame had merely chalked it up to some of their usual mischief - after all, the queen's birthday was just another regular day for a place that seemingly never closed.

But Reno - that the Turk had been involved took the brunette by surprise. The giggling of her own staff coupled with the redhead's grin and the visible offerings in honor of her birthday suddenly turned obvious and Melissa laughed freely, even if in slight disbelief of it all. By the size of the box, it was clear that Shinra's most charismatic employee had gone to some trouble for her, and it evidently pleased the madame.

But the envelope was the one that did it - expensive dresses and top-shelf champagne were always appreciated, but things Melissa could have access to within her little kingdom. But the Golden Saucer? The woman had never left Midgar - it was impossible to make it out and back when one was originally from the slums and without the right papers or chaperoned by one that had the power to do so.

And maybe the reaction was slightly unbecoming of her (and the age that the inn proprietress boasted) - but the realization of what Reno had offered as a birthday present had the woman suddenly hugging him without any concern for appearances. It was a tight, heartfelt embrace and one that ended with a trademark lipstick stain on Reno's cheek - luckily he has more than enough balance and grace to prevent any accidents with the champagne that hadn't even been touched yet.

"I should ask for your head - how dare you conspire with my own subjects? At this point I'm afraid they will like you more than they love me," the brunette replied with an obviously comical tone - the smile on her face, the blush on Melissa's cheeks and the childlike excitement at the idea of the trip were all pointing towards her gratitude, of course. She was no evil monarch asking for beheadings when she was blindsided with a surprise - Wall Market had one tyrannical ruler already.

"I'm only joking, of course. Come with me, you need to help me pack. I've never been up there before and I'm in need of your expert advice. We can drink as we go and you can see how well the dress fits," Melissa offered by means of an invitation that couldn't be refused, pulling Reno towards her by the hand and taking them both towards her room - not just an empty one, but her living quarters; the queen's inner sanctum.

That was how much the Turk had come to mean to her - a friend, perhaps the best one she had. Very few would be willing to go the extra mile like Reno did when Melissa was already bound by their unofficial partnership to be of service to Tseng (and therefore, Shinra). And to show her appreciation, the madame kissed Reno again - on the opposite cheek, hard enough to stain his skin.

"For symmetry," she clarified, with barely contained laughter. Well, if anything, Reno could be sure his traveling companion would be in high spirits. Definitely one of the best birthdays ever in Melissa's book, and it had barely started.

#bitterarcs #v: FFVII #birthday shenanigans 2023!#replied #I cannot stress how much this means #he's been elevated to another friend category #she will only let go of his arm if he sees a suitable guy to chase #(then she will gladly step aside haha)

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

total opposites

You and Toge swap bodies after encountering a fairytale curse, and similar to its origin, it also takes a fairytale method to break it.

REQUEST. body swap au + best friends to lovers

CONTENT/WARNINGS. slight crack fic, some cursing, implications of nsfw but nothing explicit, just Toge being a not-so closet pervert, usual best friend bickering, reader is fem bodied, unedited story (I should stop saying this, everyone knows I don’t edit my stuff)

NOTES. I enjoyed writing this, tysm for the request anon, this was really cute! definitely this is shooting up in one of my fav works ever (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

You stretched your arms overhead, feeling great after sleeping in. It wasn’t common of you to sleep this late, but you and Toge had gone stargazing the night before. A smile made its way to your face as you reminisced him reciting rice ball ingredients, signing that he was telling poetry to ‘match the mood’ until you’d both fallen asleep on the soft blanket atop a hill.

You don’t remember how you made it back to your room, but figured that Toge had carried you back home before the sun rose. Making a mental note to thank your best friend later, you yawned as you padded out to your room, hands rubbing in circles at your stomach.

Hopefully breakfast would be amazing today.

The door next to you opened, revealing your younger classmate, and you frowned, because wasn’t Kugisaki your next door neighbour? Well, whatever, he, Yuuji, and Kugisaki might’ve taken advantage of the rare, peaceful weekend that they probably had a movie marathon the night before.

“Morning, Megumi!” you greeted, coughing a bit when you sounded off, throat a little horse and itchy. At the sound of your voice, Megumi stilled in his tracks, eyes wide at you. His comical expression had you barking in laughter, shooting finger guns his way as you wiggled your eyebrows. “Ey, be a good dog and bark for me, will you?”

Semi-visible sonic waves drifted like waves after one another out your mouth. Megumi scowled before he froze the next second, ears perked up and backside wagging in replacement of a tail. “Woof woof!”

“What the hell?” you reeled back in slight disgust, your underclassman’s cheeks burning red. Then, your lips grazed against a soft cloth, making you look down.

You blinked back once. Twice. You were definitely...built different today. Curiously, you tugged at the zipper peaking out from your black collar, the familiar zhoop sound of the zipper burned into your memory after hearing your best friend do it countless times before.

In front of you, Megumi screeched – the most noise he’d made ever since you met him – his jaw dropped open while you – or rather Toge stood at the end of the hallway, his hands squeezing at your breasts that were still under last night’s pyjamas. You blinked back once. Then twice, steam pouring from your nose when Toge, in your body, pointed at his body.

“Oh, oh!” your scream bounced off the hallways hard enough that Panda slammed his door open, about to tell everyone to shut up when your voice let out a high-pitched scream.

“What are you doing in my body?!”

Looking down at where Toge was pointing, you were greeted by the sight of his dark uniform and sock clad feet, your chest replaced with hard muscles instead of the soft flesh. You turned to Toge with a stupefied look that mirrored his, both of you falling on the ground with fists pounding on the hardwood floor.

“I’m a fucking girl!” he cried out, whether out of happiness or frustration, it was hard to tell.

Meanwhile, you zipped his collar back up, tugging at his off-white hair as you forced yourself to remember his limited vocabulary. “BONITO FLAKES!”

Now you understood Toge’s frustration of being a cursed speech user.

“Bonito Flakes” definitely did not hold the same fury as “FUCK” did.

“You and I need to set down some boundaries,” you signed to him, brows pulled together. Toge seemed to be enjoying this sudden body swap a lot more than you did since he hadn’t stopped posing in the mirror the moment you pushed him back to your room, locking it shut to get some privacy. “You are not, under any circumstances, allowed to shower, do you understand?”

Toge scowled at your words, sassy as ever with his hands placed on his hips, buttocks jutted out. You hated, absolutely hated that he used your body this way because this time you couldn’t even laugh – not when seeing your body felt this awkward.

“You would really rather me stink?”

“You can’t undress too! Ever! Or if you will, your eyes better be closed. No peeking too!”

“Y/N, you and I grew up together. I’ve already seen everything,” he rolled his eyes, earning him a hard slap from the arm. Considering he was a lot more muscular than you were, your hit came a lot harder. “Ow!” he protested, rubbing the sore spot that ached, only to laugh at the sounds emitting from his lips. “Wow, I have to admit that this is really fun though. I’m actually talking,” he announced, “Hey, say salmon for me.”

“Bonito flakes!” you shook your head, “The moment Principal Yaga is back, we’re going to talk to him, okay? I don’t want to be stuck in your body any longer!”

“Please, you’re lucky you get to feel me up,” he winked at you, taking your (his) hands to flatten it on his stomach. “Come on, come on, feel my abs!” Whack. “Would you please stop slapping me? Your body is a lot more delicate than mine and my hands are – stop slapping me!”

Feeling bad for your friend and not wanting to abuse your body too much, you raised your hands in surrender with a roll of your eyes. “I can’t take you seriously with that voice. You’re too cute.”

“Complimenting ourselves now, aren’t we?” he scoffed, “Well, whatever, you are cute, especially when you’re angry. Such a shame I can’t see you do that right now because my handsome face is looking back at me.”

“I won’t hesitate to choke you, my friend.”

“You wouldn’t. You adore your body too much,” contrary to his words, Toge pulled a defensive stance. You threw a pillow at him, to which he easily dodged, clutching at the hem of your pyjamas afterwards. “Speaking of bodies, I really need to pee.”

“Hold it!”

“Are you insane? I’m not holding it, you’re going to kill us both!”

“Fine, I’ll take you to the rest room then,” you tugged at the hood of your shirt, pushing him inside the communal female restroom. Toge stood in the middle shock still, evidently flustered at the stalls and lack of urinals. You flicked a finger on his forehead, finger pointed to a stall. “Go pee. That’s my body – I need to make sure you’re not going to do anything weird with it.”

“I thought you trusted me, friend. Why would you think I’d touch you that way?”

You gave him an ‘are you serious?’ look. “You jack off every fucking night, Toge. I can hear you even from the next hallway. Plus, you’re a horny teenage male, who’s to say you wouldn’t be curious and try to see what female masturbation feels like?”

His eyes lit up at the idea, fist coming down to bounce at the palm of his hand as he nodded. “That’s actually a good idea—”

“Don’t you even dare.”

“What?!” you and Toge both exclaimed. He faced you with utter horror written on his face and you gasped, slapping both palms over your lips.

“It is true,” Principal Yaga affirmed with a grim look on his face. He’d recently got back to fetch your troublesome Gojo-Sensei who’d been caught starting a ruckus in Roponggi while women flocked around him, leading to your principal to haul his ass back to the school grounds. “Some curses are manifested through daily objects, and sometimes even through nature. That shooting star you saw was an example of that.”

“But is kissing really necessary?” Toge queried with a wary gaze sent your way.

“It’s a fairytale curse. It can only be broken through a true love’s kiss.”

“But sir, Toge and I have never dated anyone before. How can we miraculously fall in love with someone to break this curse overnight?”

“It doesn’t have to happen overnight. Sometimes, a simple crush will do,” Principal Yaga sighed, scratching his bald head with his face pulled deep in thought. “Y/N, you have a crush on Gojo-Sensei right? I’m going to kill him if he actually kisses you – and knowing that damn brat he might if you ask him – but I think a kiss on the cheek will suffice. For now, you both just have to...broaden your relationships. Maybe go out on dates.”

“I don’t mind that. In fact, I’m going to have the time of my life,” Toge cheered, his mood dampening once he saw you stiffen. “But my body is...”

Knowing full well that he’d get insecure over his lack of speech again, you glared at him hard enough that your best friend straightened up, lips puckered out in a pout as if you hadn’t just caught him talking badly about himself again when you’ve told him countless times he was perfectly fine the way he was.

It made you sigh, feeling slightly bad that until now he still couldn’t see himself the way you saw him – not that you’d ever vocalize this; Toge would never shut up (in the best way he could) if he had the slightest idea what went inside your head.

“You’re lucky you have a pretty face. Otherwise, it’s going to be impossible for anyone to like you,” you teased instead, somewhat flustered at your indirect compliment.

Toge merely scoffed at you, his gaze burning and hard, contrasting the teasing little shit grin he wore. “Oh, please, if I wasn’t the cursed speech user, I would’ve banged—”

“Kids!” Principal Yaga threw his dolls at you hard, the both of you clutching at your heads in pain. How were those dolls as heavy as rocks? “Take your bickering back to your rooms please. No more of this mess and noise. It’s late.”

You frowned at the old man, face pleading as you signed, “Principal Yaga, can’t we really do anything else? Aren’t there any techniques to undo this?”

You and Toge knew that combination so well – pitch black eyes, jaw clenched, lips pursed and palms interlaced under his chin – one that meant his words were final and irrevocable. None of you could argue or suggest more solutions the moment the words left his lips like an ultimate decree. “The technique is the kiss. Now leave.”

You and Toge tried, you both really did.

But following Principal Yaga’s suggestion of dating others had turned out to be a complete fail – even with your normal body and Toge’s physical charisma.

It simply didn’t work; not when Megumi ran away from you every time you tried to get him to kiss you with your arms wide open, and Toge wasn’t helping either by pushing Gojo-Sensei away from you every time the cheeky eyed teacher announced his willingness to help.

Eventually, you and your best friend had retired in his room, the scent of him coated all over his pillows and his shirt that you wore. That felt comforting, at least, and you buried yourself in the crook of your body’s neck, bodies tangled with one another.

Who knew dating could be so tiring?

A wave of irritation flashed over you from today’s events, knowing full well that this could’ve been avoided long ago. Scowling, you cuddled Toge closer, lightly flicking your fingers on your body’s chest. “This is your damn fault, Toge.”

“You were the one who asked me to stargaze with you.”

“You don’t always have to say no to everything I ask of you, you know.”

“You’re really dumber than I thought if you think I could easily say no to you,” he snorted above you, his chin resting atop your head. “I don’t have a lot of weakness because I’m a strong sorcerer—” another flick, a harsher one this time around. “Okay, okay, I’m just kidding! But I mean it though – you’re my best friend and my weakness. Of course I’d do anything to make you happy, even if it’s something as stupid as stargazing.”

“Hey!” you made a sound of protest in your throat, looking back at him with a frown. “It wasn’t stupid, it was romantic.”

Hell yeah, it was romantic indeed – your heart still skipped a beat every time you remembered Toge’s starry eyes matching the night sky’s beauty, the words salmon and mustard leaf surprisingly sexy every time it came from him. It was stupid – so fucking stupid – that you groaned into his chest to hide your flushed face.

“Yeah, I suppose it was.”

The room fell silent, your syncopated breathing soothing during this stressful times. Taking advantage of your voice, Toge began to hum, singing the songs you both had always listened to in the privacy of your room during lazy days. It brought a smile to your face as you clutched to him tighter, heart pounding in your chest as you gazed up at him, tapping his chin to get his attention. “Toge, can I say something weird?”

“Please, nothing you say surprises me anymore. Shoot.”

Your mouth began to dry as you cleared your throat in an attempt to hide your awkwardness, gaze pointedly averted from his prying ones. “You and I...we’ve known each other for a long time and we love each other. As best friends, of course.”

“Sheesh, friendzone much?”

“Would you please shut up and listen to me seriously for once?” you huffed, making him snicker, but nodded at you anyway to continue. “As I was saying – why don’t we kiss? It could be true love’s kiss.”

Toge didn’t speak for a good minute, the pregnant pause filling in the gap filled with tension. You taped his cheek, waving his hand in front of his eyes when he dazed out. When his gaze focussed back on you, Toge was surprisingly calm – although beneath that composed exterior, his mind had simply short-circuited. “If this is your way to get to make out with me, I’m going to sock you in the face.”

“Toge, I’m serious! Let’s kiss!”

“I don’t want to!” he shook his head indignantly, hiding his face by hugging you close to his chest instead.

“Why not? Don’t you want to swap back to your original body? Both of us haven’t showered in two days and I’m sick of the way you smell. You’re lucky I love you though, otherwise I’m going to cry. Come on, Toge, what’s holding you back?” you tried to fight back from his grip, but he’d surprised you both when he only squeezed you tighter, both your erratic heart rates matching the other.

“I said no.”

“Toge, it’s just a damn kiss, what’re you so afraid of?”

“I’m afraid that if we don’t swap back, then that means you don’t love me the way I love you!” he finally admitted, breathing hard before continuing. “Principal Yaga said it must be a kiss between lovers and not just platonic friends okay?” you attempted to scramble away from his arms again, and this time he let you, though he’d closed his eyes, cheek squished on the pillows as he murmured, “I don’t want you to reject me... even though I messed up already.”

“Wait,” you snapped your fingers to make him open his eyes, hesitant as you signed, “You...you love me that way?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because my face is staring back at me and it’s fucking awkward – I wanted to see your face when I confessed!” he sat up with a frustrated groan, childishly kicking off the sheets of the bed as he clutched his head in his hands. “I had everything planned, okay? Nobara and Yuuji helped me think of everything because Megumi is shit when it comes to love. Listen, I was going to ask you on a candlelit date and then maybe kiss the life out of you – if you feel the same way—”

“Kiss me.” The body he possessed a victim of his own powers, Toge was left with no choice but to grab your face before his mouth pressed against yours, fingers entangled into the other’s hair. You were smiling into the kiss the whole time, barely able to recognize when Toge had shifted your bodies until you were under him, his hands running down your sides lovingly the whole time.

Pulling away to get some air, you opened your eyes, unsurprised when Toge laid above you, his strong arms planted beside your head.

Both of you were breathing hard from the passionate kiss filled with so much sexual tension and longing, your tongue darting out to swipe at his taste on your lips. The laughter that bubbled out of you was pure, wholesome and swollen like your heart. “I love you too, idiot.”

“Salmon!” Toge peppered your cheeks with kisses, pulling out more gleeful laughter from you, his playful and loving attacks more of a gift than a punishment. Once you’d recovered from your happiness – although really, who could recover after that? – Toge unzipped his collar, his smile nothing but wicked when he commanded, “Kiss me again.”

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little-schonbrunn · 3 years

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(Note: I did a post on this scene a while back but I decided to revisit it with additional analyses and the true script pages attached.)

Scene 82 from the original 2004 script for Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette (2006) is one of several that ended up being cut from the film. We know that it was shot thanks to several promotional stills and behind-the-scenes photographs that have surfaced over time (we got the famous photos of Kirsten smoking in costume from the shooting of this scene — one of the first glimpses we got of the production), but, unfortunately, no footage of it has ever been released.

The context of the scene is that it takes place shortly after the accession of Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette (1774) and before the visit of MA’s brother, the Emperor Joseph (1777). These years, her early 20s, were marked by a growing sense of confidence, no doubt inspired by her transition from dauphine to queen consort. MA established an intimate circle of her choosing (The Private Society) in defiance of protocol, collaborated with Rose Bertin to produce various styles of dress, all far more adventurous than the traditional court styles, and threw herself into the pleasures of opéra balls, gambling houses, horse races, and the privacy of Trianon, all while attempting to produce her first child with Louis. Words like frenetic, lég��reté, and hedonistic typically get thrown around by biographers when discussing MA’s behavior during this period, to highlight a sense that the queen was uncontrollably flighty and inattentive.

There is deep misogyny in the dismissal of MA as simply lightheaded and frivolous during this time. In more fair terms, this is a 20-year-old who had just gone from four years in a new, unwelcoming environment, surrounded by a cast of characters who were not exactly always desirable company, behaving from sunrise to sunset according to famously difficult etiquette practices, finding herself faulted, on a near daily basis, with her failure to conceive, and generally struggling to find her place. Now, with this burst of freedom that has come with becoming a queen consort, she has granted herself the permission to seek amusements (especially in Paris, still a virtually unexplored city to her), to enjoy playing with her appearance on her own terms, and to befriend whom she pleases.

Sofia Coppola does a wonderful job at portraying MA in this light, almost, in a modern sense, as a young girl who has just become an adult and moved out of her parents’ house and is enjoying newfound freedom.

Scene 82 would have followed the Birthday Party sequence that remains in the final cut of the film. Very significantly, it is preceded by a short insert of a pornographic libelle, of the variety that began circulating around this time (1774) that showed MA in a very unflattering light (lavish, lascivious, a tribade, etc.). This was also cut from the film, as were other inserts that show up in the original script. The libelle that the screenplay is referencing here is «Le Lever d’Aurore», which took her innocent sunrise excursion into the gardens of Versailles with friends, chaperoned by the comtesse de Noailles, and corrupted it. What was inspired by the Incan devotion to the sun and conducted in adolescent reverie (and in the film is shown as an after-party to MA’s 18th birthday), became a bacchanalia, showing MA and her friends hiding in the shrubbery of Versailles with a variety of lovers, both male and female. The insert was there to remind the audience that the public and private perceptions of MA’s lifestyle and conduct were of two very different varieties.

The fact that Scene 82 follows the inserts may be intentional, as if to suggest that the scene is not entirely accurate (in the same way that the opening shot of MA reclining in splendor and the “Let them eat cake” line are supposed to be fantasy depictions of the queen, not accurate ones).

As you can see in the script pages, Scene 82 is another gambling party that takes place in the queen’s apartments. But this one is different from the one that comes almost directly before it. The conversation, presented as Polignac entertaining MA with sordid tales of the courtiers present as well as with stories of her own sexual experiences, is much more adult and licentious than the conversation at the 18th birthday party. Louis XVI is present at the opening of the scene but retires quickly, and Lamballe is not featured, only referenced. Tom Hardy’s Rohan (not be confused with the factual cardinal de Rohan), makes an appearance, which would have been his first feature in the film, before his involvement at the later Trianon segment.

The idea here is that this intimate circle, in direct adjacency to MA, is perhaps not the most suitable for her to surround herself with, which was a constant complaint against her by those on the outside. But the sexually explicit conversation, Polignac’s morality, and the looser feeling of this party in comparison to the many others in the film may be interpreted as this scene being presented to the audience as intentionally questionable … Is this another fantasy sequence, a party thrown in as seen from the perspective of the courtiers projecting depraved, adulterous behavior at the queen and her company?

Significantly, MA is very much an observer in this scene, watching and listening but not involving herself in any reproachable behavior, which is an accurate portrayal. During the early years of the reign, she enjoyed the company (in addition to Lamballe, Polignac, and a few of her in-laws) of various older men of the court, almost all foreign and all able storytellers who regaled their young queen with stories of their experiences across the Continent. The baron de Besenval, the princes de Ligne and de Lauzun, the comte d’Esterházy, and the ducs de Coigny and de Guînes were all invited into the queen’s private apartments to entertain her with anecdotes of their travels and conquests, from Hungary to Switzerland and elsewhere through the European courts. None of them were considered suitable to be so intimate with MA according to etiquette, and she was severely faulted for this behavior by the royal court. She did not, however, ever allow herself to pass further than innocent flirtation with these men — Antonia Fraser speaks of the hysteria that MA had around her chastity. She sought the company of amusing, older men, but never in the context of adulterous behavior. They made her laugh and brought her levity, but if any of them ever crossed the line, they were very sharply and publicly reprimanded for their conduct.

One of the promotional stills for Scene 82 shows MA asleep, surrounded on all sides by men of the court, one of whom appears to be touching her. The image is another reason why perhaps this scene is supposed to walk the line between reality and fantasy … MA did surround herself with these men during her gatherings, but the physicality of the tableau suggests a bodily intimacy with these men that is definitely more in agreement with the vicious falsehoods spread by uninvited courtiers rather than historical fact. The scene feels out of place, as if the tone of this party isn’t consistent with the rest of the film — the conversation and behavior is much more extreme than anything else in Marie Antoinette, and this is perhaps intentional.

Why the scene was cut we do not know. It could have been due to pacing issues, since, with its inclusion, there would have then been two gambling parties back-to-back (which, again, may have been intentional — a more factual gambling party followed by a shocking illustration from a libelle, which is then followed by a fantasy gambling party to remark upon the different perceptions of MA’s lifestyle). It could be that the conversation was felt to be too vulgar, or at least vulgar in a way that stands out too much from the rest of the film. Or perhaps another reason entirely.

But the scene is important, as it’s a glimpse into what the public was guided to believe was the typical behavior of the queen of France, encouraged by the hands of the courtiers who were uninvited or ignored by MA.

Hopefully one day we get footage of this scene. I’m also curious if this scene was ever fully edited or if it was cut from the film before post-production was thoroughly on its way.

#Marie Antoinette #Sofia Coppola #Kirsten Dunst

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shreddedparchment · 3 years

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A Wife for Thor Pt.19

The True Heir

03/09/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader Word Count: 5,781

Warnings: angst, depression, pregnancy, marital troubles, pining

A/N: There is very little editing. Forgive me. I’m sleepy. I’ve been up writing all night. I’ve also been hurting, but it’s all good! I’m so happy to get this chapter out. *insert evil laugh* If you happen to reblog, thank you so much for helping me spread my work! it truly means so much, more than you know. xoxo

Sunday

Today you do nothing.

You’d opened up your laptop last night and attempted to scribble a few lines for your next book, but all you could think about was Thor, Jane, the babies to come, and where exactly you fit amongst all of it.

After typing Thor’s name along with a few other random words for the tenth time, you gave up and shut the laptop. You’d crawled into bed, bundled up under your fluffy comforter, and bid goodbye to the world as you caved in to unconsciousness.

The fact that morning is here, you find that your hope for today to be better than yesterday was silly. How can anything ever be good again?

You place your hands on your lower tummy, caressing what feels like a very slight swell. It’s just barely harder than the rest of your stomach. Firm. Despite the happiness that your baby brings you, you stare across the room at your computer and can’t find it in you to get up and work.

Instead you roll over onto your other side and pull Thor’s--that is to say, the one he’d used while he was here--pillow over to cling to.

Thor’s texts are also still fresh in your mind.

Sleep didn’t dull their effect on you or the confusion they raised.

Did they mean that he wouldn’t get an annulment? That’s sorta what you were getting from them. His declarations that he couldn’t live without you and that he would die for you and that he missed you so much at his side sounded like he was also telling himself how he felt. As if he were, not so much convincing, but reaffirming what he already knew.

You reach over and switch your phone on, clicking through to your messages to find that Thor must have stolen his phone back from Loki at some point.

Thor: Good morning, my cherub. I hope you slept well.

Thor: I could hardly sleep with you absent beside me.

Thor: Our bed is too big without you in it.

Thor: Have you seen the doctor yet? You’ll text me as soon as you get a diagnosis, won’t you? I’ll be waiting.

Thor: Loki insists that I give you some distance to rest but being apart from you is torture.

Thor: Would you be very angry with me if I came to see you?

Thor: I have some things I must deal with here before I can go though. Loki is right. I should allow you rest and fix things here before I come to you.

Thor: Are you still sleeping, cherub? I’m sorry if my messages are disturbing you. I haven’t gone this long without talking to you since...I wish I’d met you years ago. When things weren’t so complicated.

Thor: Would you have let me court you even though I am the God of Thunder? Future King of Asgard? Would you have married me when I came back with my people to live here on Earth?

Thor: I think if I had to choose all over again, you’re still the only woman equal to the task of being my Queen.

Thor: And the love that has grown between us is...I will never take it for granted…

As you read that last message, you assume he wants to say he won’t take it for granted again. He’s already let it slip through his fingers, although he doesn’t know it yet.

Thor: Perhaps this can be that break you were talking of. For our baby? Maybe we do need a little bit of relaxation to let our bodies recover?

Thor: And yet, I can’t wait to start a family with you, cherub.

You’re bawling all over again, your eyes flooding with tears as you bury your face into his pillow and sob loudly.

He’d said that he missed your body next to his. You can relate. You want to feel the heavy fall of his chest, the deep breaths that fill his lungs and escape through his lips in a quiet little snore that always makes you cuddle into his side.

Normally, he’d respond by turning to face you and holding you right up against his chest.

The comfort that simple thing would give you right now when your heart is aching so painfully is what you so desperately need. But...you’re so angry too. You don’t want him near you.

The images that flood your mind are torture. Mixtures of pleasant, happy moments now marred by the betrayal and anger that has taken hold of your heart.

You bury your face into the pillow and scream until your throat really does go hoarse. Frustration at the force of change you’ve had to make in the past twenty-four hours.

You’re startled back to the present when your phone rings. You make a small attempt to clear your throat then answer and the absolute gravel voice you use settles any wondering as to whether your illness is real.

“Hello?” you whisper, clearing your throat to no avail.

“Oh, cherub, you sound terrible.”

Your heart panics. How are you supposed to talk to him?

You don’t want to talk to him.

“I can’t really talk,” you say weakly hoping he’ll take the hint.

“Did the doctor see you already?” Thor asks, his worry evident in the quiet tone of his voice.

“Yes, he gave me some medicine and told me to try not to talk,” you lie, surprisingly easy right now since you don’t want to talk.

For your emotional sanity, you need to hang up soon.

“I’m so sorry, love. I wish I could take this illness from you. Where’s David? I’d like to talk to him.”

You panic again, floundering as you cough and clear your throat to buy some time.

“He’s not here. He went to the store to get some groceries,” you hope he buys it.

“I’ll call him a little later then. If you need anything, let me know. I’ll get it for you.”

“Thanks, Thor,” you mumble, suddenly not wanting to hang up.

How can one person give you so much ease and worry all at once? How can he be your source of agony and comfort at the same time? It’s not fair.

“I have so much to tell you, but...now is not the right time. You need to get better first.”

Nevermind! Fuck this guy. Your heart sinks.

“I have to go,” you tell him, hoping he’ll just hang up and leave you be now.

“Very well. I love you, cherub.”

How do you answer him without giving anything away just yet?

“Me too,” you choose. And it’s true.

Even if he’s torn your heart into pieces, he’s still the father of your baby and you still love him.

Whatever madness overcame him when he’d suggested to Loki getting an annulment was the best course of action seems to have passed. Loki must be right about him.

“Bye, Thor,” you whimper.

“Bye, Y/N,” he says your name, making your heart quake a bit.

You hang up and quickly dial up David.

He answers after two rings.

“Hello? How is my favorite girl in the whole wide world?”

He sounds amused by something, or just happy. It’s such a difference to how you feel at the moment that it breaks you and you sob again, renewing your tears.

“Y/N? What’s the matter?” David demands, clearly now beginning to fret over the way you sound.

You tell him everything. Somehow you manage to get it all out minus one important detail and when you’re done recounting the most horrible night of your life, David sighs heavily and you can almost picture him settling into a deep armchair with massive worry weighing on his shoulders.

“Well, the good thing is, if he goes through with an annulment, you’re to be given a monthly allowance for the rest of your life. It was a condition in your contract, should Thor change his mind about marrying you. But he didn’t so it was moot, until now. You will be a very rich woman. More so than the small fortune you originally inherited.

“I know that money is hardly a consolation for the man that you love-” David sighs again. “Perhaps he said it in madness? He must have been very upset. Caught by surprise?” David offers.

“Even if he doesn’t mean it or doesn’t go through with it, I know that for you the point is the thought was there.

“However, I do think we must make allowances for Thor. I’m sorry to say. He is a king and he’s responsible for his entire people. A baby would give them security. Stability. A legitimate heir would tie them to Earth forever.

“We musn’t make light of his choices. This isn’t a common situation to find one’s self in. For either of you.”

“David, I’m pregnant.” You finally explain, knowing that it will maybe just show him a little bit more of what you’re facing. “I went to tell Thor and that’s when I overheard them.”

For a moment he’s speechless. When he speaks again, his voice is heightened.

“Congratulations! I-I knew it would happen eventually. The timing is a little-”

“I haven’t told him yet, clearly.”

Silence again. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I was so happy when I went to tell him and then I heard their conversation and I-I just can’t find the strength to do it right now. Not until I know whether he wants the annulment.”

David breathes in deeply and then exhales slowly into the phone. His breath is light and soft.

“You’re afraid that he will only stay with you because of the child,” a statement.

David knows you better than anyone else in your life. It’s not surprising that he’d make the leap so quickly.

“He’s willing to leave me and marry Jane because of her baby. It’s possible that he’ll stay by my side only because of our baby and I’d rather he do what’s best for our people than to stay with me because of a sense of obligation.”

“It could be that Jane will not want him. She might keep her child away from the Asgardian royal court. Didn’t she refuse to marry him because she didn’t want to be Queen?” David’s voice is pensive. “This might all feel much larger than it is. I suggest you take some time to really think through your actions before making any decisions.”

“I’m not going to never tell him, David. He’s the father of my child. He has to know that he has two and not just the one. I don’t think I could do that to him. I could never keep him from his children.

“Either of them.”

“You are magnanimous, Y/N. More than even I thought you were capable of.”

“Bullshit. I ran away and am refusing to see him until I get my week of space,” you nod firmly. “But David-?”

“Tell me,” he urges you, recognizing your tone of anguish.

“I-I know that I accepted this marriage hesitantly. It wasn’t like I asked for it and you know how I felt before Thor asked me to marry him. You know how s-scared I was about marrying someone who was in love with someone else, and now...now he’s-”

“He’s married to you, Y/N. Not Ms. Foster. And from what I have been able to see, he does love you. Not Jane. This is a temporary setback. If you’re angry at him, be angry at him. Don’t pretend you aren’t. If you’re hurt, show it. Wear your heart on your sleeve.

“Loving someone is one of life’s greatest blessings. Sometimes that love doesn’t last, sometimes it takes a beating. But you must choose whether your love is worth fighting for.

“You’ve also got obligations that you cannot escape from. Duties to your people as their Queen.”

“Assuming Thor doesn’t leave me and take my crown,” you scoff.

“I’m with your brother-in-law. I don’t think it will come to that. I think Thor was a little shocked and thrown by Ms. Foster’s news. Now that he has had some time to think, I believe he’ll do right by you and when you tell him, your child.”

“I won’t tell him until he makes up his mind,” you insist.

“That is your prerogative. Do what you need to. What can I do to help? What do you need from me?”

“Just be prepared for any eventuality. I’m not sure what’s going to happen at the end of this week. Oh, and if Thor calls you--just make something up and tell me what you say. He thinks you drove me from the airport and have been staying with me.”

“Using me as your alibi so that your husband won’t come looking for you,” David clicks his tongue. “How much detail shall I give him?”

“You’ve got a job too, just tell him you’re coming and going. Tony had his staff install some security on the house after the honeymoon. I’m safe here. He’ll believe that I’m safe if that’s all you say.

“Anyway, I need to go. I have two more calls to make before I can relax and enjoy my break from the throne.”

“If you need anything, you know how to reach me. Anything, Y/N. I mean it.”

“Thanks, David. I can always count on you,” you smile.

Just a tiny one. A very subtle curve at the corners of your lips.

“Well, you do pay me,” he jokes, which actually pulls a small laugh from you.

“Right. Bye, David.”

“Goodbye, Your Majesty.”

You take only a minute to think about your conversation with David before you make the most important calls of your week in solitude.

The first one is simple. Just a reminder of doctor-patient confidentiality. He understands what you’re saying even if he doesn’t practice by that mentality.

Dr. Wilson’s phone call is more difficult. She wants an explanation. She wants to know why she’s not allowed to tell your husband, the King of New Asgard, that he’s finally got what you and he have been wanting.

An heir!

It’s painful to talk about but you tell her what’s happened. You tell her that Thor doesn’t know that you know about Jane’s baby.

She’s very quiet as you talk. She assumes things and you can hear her anger when she starts to ask for what she can tell Thor.

“He didn’t cheat on me, Dr. Wilson,” you explain, hoping that this will ease her anger.

You’re angry at Thor because of the annulment, not because he and Jane have created a life from their love. You’re hurt because he’s willing or was willing--you’re not sure yet--to leave you to be with Jane, even if not for love but for the baby growing within her.

You’re hurt because the man you love was choosing his duty over his feelings for you.

Even though you know that he’s right to do it. Even though you know that you should understand because he’s King and you also took an oath to put the people of New Asgard first.

It’s your duty to put their well-being before your own. That doesn’t mean you have to like it.

In Thor’s mind, his only duty is to his child. Jane’s child. He doesn’t know you’re carrying one of your own yet. Even though that would probably make sure that he stays with you because of the baby, you don’t want that to be the reason he stays.

Proud fool.

“Thor slept with Jane the same night he proposed to me. This was before we loved each other, when leaving Jane was the hardest thing he’d had to do. I don’t hold that against him.”

You don’t tell her about the annulment. She doesn’t need to know how messy this all is.

“He’ll probably call for you and Dr. Alric soon. Loki suggested they get Jane checked so act surprised? But please don’t tell him I’m pregnant. Not yet. He’s coming to see me at the end of the week and I’ll tell him myself then. Please?” And it really is a genuine plea.

“I’ll do whatever you need, Your Majesty. I would like to come and check on you. You don’t sound well.”

She’s very sweet and her concern is touching.

“Thor will probably send you to me eventually. He’s worried but he’s clearly got other things on his mind.”

“I’ll make arrangements to head over there tomorrow. Oh, can you hold for one minute Your Majesty? I’m so sorry.”

“Of course.”

There’s silence on the phone for a few minutes before she comes back.

“It was His Majesty. He’s told me about Jane but she’s not available for an examination until later in the week. So, he’s asked me to come to you first. I’ll be there tonight.”

For some reason, the idea of having her with you eases some of the stress you’ve been carrying with you since yesterday.

“I’ll call and have a car sent for you.”

“Actually, His Majesty has promised to bring me straight to you via bifrost.”

“Wait, what?” You sit up in bed, clutching your blanket to your chest as your nerves suddenly fray and panic begins to build up within you.

“Should I come by plane?” She asks, worried by the sound of your voice.

You can’t see Thor. No. You can’t.

“No. I’ll just be going out later tonight to pick up a few things that I need here at the house. Toilet paper, napkins, laundry soap. I just didn’t want you to get here when I was out, but I’ll text you the passcode to get in.”

You’ll just have to make sure that you’re not at home when they come. That’s what you’ll do. This is a perfect excuse to be out since you need to get the stuff you listed anyway.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t just like me to come by plane?”

“No, really. The sooner you get here, the better. The car ride is so long from the airport. I’ll see you tonight, Dr. Wilson.”

“Bye, Your Majesty.”

Even though you know that you have hours upon hours until Thor brings Dr. Wilson here, you force yourself out of bed and abandon your plans to wallow in your feelings so that you can shower, get dressed, and leave the house.

If Thor’s coming, you’re going to be as far away from your house as you can be. You’re not ready to see him again just yet. You only have small errands to run but you’re gonna stay out all damn day if it’s the last thing you do.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tuesday

Thor is at a loss. Completely and utterly lost without you.

If he was ever in doubt as to how he really felt about you--which he never has been because he knows himself well enough to know better--he knows now that you are the light of his new life here on Earth.

His reign would mean significantly less without you at his side.

Even though the time you’ve spent together has been a short few months, they have been the best months of his life.

If he’d had one of those other women he’d interviewed become his Queen, this life he’s chosen to lead would have felt empty and tedious. Instead of watching his Queen spend her time with his people leading the way in progress.

You’re so eager to be part of the Asgardian populace. They’ve embraced you so fully.

With a sigh, Thor leans forward and buries his face into his hands as he mentally trashes himself for the absolute fool that he’s been about this entire situation.

The fact that he’d even entertained the thought of leaving you.

He wants to cry and tear his hair out in frustration.

Should he tell you that the thought was weighed along with many others at Jane’s news?

And Jane.

Thor groans.

She’s been avoiding him since she told him. He can’t exactly blame her for it. He hadn’t exactly taken the news well.

He had no reason to expect her to be receptive to him after he’d basically accused her of being confused about it. She knew her own body. If she said she was pregnant, what reason would he have to doubt her?

He’s messed everything up so much and he’s terrified to tell you about Jane.

What if you have the same idea he did? What if you decide to leave him in some foolish attempt to have him marry her and legitimize his future child?

It’s something you would do. Sacrifice yourself so that he could do the right thing.

The thought of living this life of rule without you at his side is unbearable.

With another frustrated groan, he gets up and moves to pace the length of the room, ignoring the large pile of paperwork on his desk as his mind moves in circles.

It always comes back to you.

And then you’d been out when he’d gone to drop off Dr. Wilson. He hadn’t expected you to be gone. He’d wanted to see you. To hold you. Touch you. Hear your voice after so much turmoil.

You are his only solace.

Going so close to you and not seeing you has left him with a terrible pain in his chest.

His phone rings.

Thor dives for his phone and fumbles with it as he grabs it off the bed. He almost loses it over the opposite edge.

He literally throws himself towards it and lands with a grunt onto the bed as he catches it.

He presses the button on the screen without looking to see who it is because he only wants it to be you.

“Cherub?” he gasps, his voice an octave higher than normal with the little bit of exertion he just underwent.

“Oh, no. Sorry, Your Majesty, it’s Dr. Wilson. I was just calling to give you your daily report on Her Majesty’s health.”

“Oh, yes, of course. I’m sorry. I just haven’t heard from-” He clears his throat, sits up, and slides to the edge of the bed. “No matter. How is my Queen, doctor?”

“She was asleep. But just woke up. She’s very tired. Her throat is better, but she’s had a fever every morning since Sunday.”

Thor sits up straighter, hand clenched into a fist around the edge of the bed as his heart starts to thrum loudly.

“Is she seriously ill?”

“No, of course not, Your Majesty. But she really does need rest. She has been under severe stress and I’m sorry to say that your constant messages are not letting her rest.”

Thor’s heart drops and buries itself into a hole at the bottom of his stomach. He feels numb suddenly, fearful of what he might be doing to you. The guilt of what he knows he must tell you soon also weighs down on him.

“Are you saying that I should leave her be until she is recovered?” Thor checks, just in case he’s not understanding correctly.

“I’m saying that if you want her to get well quickly, you must give her what she asked you for. She needs rest.”

Thor hates that he can’t be there to check on you. He wants to feel you close. He wants to see you. What if you’re deathly ill and you’re telling Dr. Wilson to lie for you?

You abhor lies and cherish honesty , but he can see you lying in order to spare him pain. Just as he is lying to spare you the worry of all this uncertainty with Jane.

Although he knows that he can never lose you now and even with a child coming with Jane, you are his wife and he can’t leave you. He was stupid to think he could even try. The thought was a sin and he’ll never forgive himself for thinking it.

Loki was so angry with him.

Rightfully so.

The good thing is that you’ll never know how bleak things looked. At least he has found his sanity again.

“Will you keep me informed? I’ll stop contacting her if you will promise to tell me how she fares. If she gets worse, I want to know.” Thor insists, his voice passionate and begging.

“You have my word, Your Majesty. Have you heard anything from Ms. Foster? Do we know exactly when we’ll be running her tests?”

“She’s very busy. As of now, it’s looking more and more likely that we won’t be able to find the time until the week’s end. After we confirm her pregnancy, I’ll tell Y/N. I’m sorry that I’ve asked you to collude in this business.”

There’s a long pause and for a moment Thor thinks that maybe the phone has disconnected but then Dr. Wilson sighs, “I cannot wait for this week to be over. Will you come back for me then? When she’s ready?”

“Yes. I’ll pick you up in the same spot that I left you. My wife wasn’t too upset about her lawn, was she? Only, Stark seems to get irritated with me every time I land on his.”

“No,” Dr. Wilson chuckles once. “She was not upset. Again, there’s little more than her throat, head, and fever on her mind. I’ve gotta go. She’s gone out into the garden for some fresh air but I need to get her back into bed.”

“Please take good care of her, doctor. She’s...well, she’s my wife,” Thor finishes heavily.

The phone goes dead and Thor sits there staring at his phone until he can find the strength to get to his feet and go off in search of Jane. They really need to talk.

~~~~~~~~~~

Friday

Thor is upset.

He’s beyond frustrated by now.

He’s irritated.

It’s a week tomorrow since he’s seen you and he can’t stand the distance anymore.

Dr. Wilson snuck him a photo but you’d been sitting on your sofa, looking weak and withdrawn.

He’s not sure what exactly is making you sick, but he knows that he can’t go another day without seeing you.

He needs to get Dr. Wilson back here and he needs to get confirmation so that he can have something to tell you once he sees you.

He won’t lose you over this.

It was one last time. One final goodbye with Jane and he’d thought she was on her birth control but apparently she hadn’t been so he hadn’t bothered to protect himself from the possibility of getting her pregnant.

Why hadn’t she said anything?! Why hadn’t she told him that she wasn’t on her pill?

He knows it’s wrong to blame her. It took both of them to make this baby, but being away from you for so long is wearing thin and he’s losing all semblance of patience.

It takes some very careful maneuvering. Heimdall is sent first, then Hilde, then Loki.

None of them know why they’re going in to corner Jane in the tower except for Loki. Well, Heimdall knows, but there’s no hiding much from Heimdall. He pretends not to know and that’s good enough for Thor.

Loki is just stepping out of the tower when he turns to look at Thor with a grave almost exhausted expression.

“She’s up there,” he assures Thor, frowning as he shuts the heavy door. “When will this end, Thor? Are you going to keep the Queen away forever?”

Thor says nothing, he’s too upset to speak. He pulls the door open roughly and stomps his way up the steps taking them two at a time until he’s standing on the top floor landing.

He can see Jane biting her lip, pacing the length of the room until she turns and finally sees him.

“Thor…” she gasps, not expecting to see him.

“We have to talk, Jane.”

She looks away, turning her back on him then moves towards her laptop which she carefully closes. She puts her hand up to her throat and turns to face him.

“I will have Dr. Wilson brought in and Dr. Alric to give you the same tests they have been giving Y/N. They will be confirming your pregnancy and once we have that, then we can all sit down and figure out-”

“I’m not pregnant,” Jane gasps, her voice filling the room despite the quiet breath that escapes her pink lips.

Thor’s stomach twists. It’s agony.

On the one hand, the words she’s just spoken are...they’re a celebration. They’re simplicity. They’re peace and a return back to normal where in his life there is only you.

On the other hand, he’s just lost a baby he never had. An heir that he’d been expecting and now can never get back.

He’d made plans for this child. He’s pictured his life with them, the happiness and joy that their birth would bring to the people of New Asgard. The assurance that they would always belong to Earth.

He’d picked names for boys and girls. He’d begun to make a list of nursery items they would need even as he lamented that the baby was not yours but Jane’s.

This baby would have, and had already begun to change his life.

And now this?!

“What?” he very nearly spits.

Jane is so flustered she’s wringing her hands hard, welting them red.

“I’m...I didn’t expect to come here and see you with her and see how fast you just-” she waves her hand as if shooing away some animal. “-moved on. It’s like you were never with me.

“You were both so happy and talking about the future and I just lost it for a little bit,” she shrugs. “I have no excuses, Thor. I’m sorry if what I said hurt you. It was selfish of me and I just loved you for so long. You were mine, you know? And now you’re married, planning to have kids, and your wife is so nice and considerate and even though she has every reason to hate me, she was polite and so damn perfect…

“I’m not afraid to say that it made me hate her. I’m ashamed of it, but not enough to take it back.”

The silence is thick. The air suddenly grows charged and Thor’s eyes shine a bright sparkling blue.

His hands crackle and his eye spits as if full of blue fire.

The sky overhead thunders and the world shakes with the boom. The lightning strikes sharp and fast, shaking the tower so that for a moment, Thor can see how Jane thinks it might topple.

His anger gives way to betrayal and his lightning fizzles out as he takes a step towards her, his brow furrowed, eye full of pain as he stares at her, searching for the joke that this must be.

There is no way that this is really happening.

“You lied to me?” Thor accuses.

Jane blanches, her lips going pale as she takes a step towards him.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lie, I just-I didn’t want to see you with her anymore and I wasn’t thinking straight so I just said it before I could stop myself. I know that it was wrong and I didn’t think it would go on for so long. I wanted to tell you almost as soon as I said it that it wasn’t true, but then you just took off and then the Queen left and I wasn’t sure if you told her and maybe that’s why she wasn’t here.”

Thor shakes his head, turning away from her as he paces towards the stairs but then turns back, his anger returning but full of pain now.

“I defended you. When Loki insisted I have you tested I asked him if he doubted you and I assured him that you would not lie about something this important. What reason would you have to lie?” he demands, almost of himself instead of Jane.

“Thor,” Jane begins.

“How long were you going to let me think you were carrying my child? How long were you planning to con me?” he accuses and his words seem to hurt Jane.

Thor can’t find it in him to care too much.

“I wasn’t-that’s not what I meant to do, Thor. Please, you have to believe me. I just didn’t know how much seeing you with her would-”

“You have no right to be upset!” he booms, his voice loud and it startles Jane quiet.

She’s never heard him angry like this. She’s never heard his voice raised.

“I gave you every opportunity to be with me, to marry me, to build a life here with me and be my Queen. You didn’t want it! You flat-out refused to be tied down by me and this Kingdom but now that you see me and my wife happy, you change your mind?

“You have the audacity to raise obstacles between us because you have regrets?”

“Thor,” she tries again, but Thor won’t let her speak.

“Get out,” he says sternly, turning to move towards the stairs.

“What?!”

“I said, get out. You are no longer welcome in my home. Pray no one ever finds out of your treachery. And should you have the urge to return for any reason, don’t.”

Thor storms down the steps, so angry that each step shakes the tower.

He’s breathing heavily as he slams the door shut behind him.

The storm air helps to calm him a bit. It clears his mind at least and the past week zooms by him like an unpleasant movie.

All of that worry and the plotting and planning. The agony that he felt wondering if you’d leave him when you found out about his child with Jane was the most unbearable.

Your face flashes before his eyes and he knows that there’s only one place he can be right now.

He throws his hand out and a metallic whistling rushes closer before his fist closes around his hammer.

He swings it firmly and throws it up into the air as he makes for your home.

Now that he has nothing to keep him here, he’s eager to get back to you. He’ll tell you everything and hope that you can forgive him for lying to you about Jane.

Even though it was a lie by omission, it was still a lie.

“I’m coming, my cherub,” he whispers, so eager to have you in his arms again.

Nothing will ever tear him from you again. He is certain. Nothing. Not a false heir, or a former love, no doubts exist within him anymore. You are the one.

The only one.

#king!thor x reader #thor x reader #arranged marriage au #royal au #a wife for thor #king!thor x reader fanfiction #king!thor x reader fanfic #king!thor x reader fic #king!thor x you #thor x reader fanfiction #thor x reader fanfic #thor x reader fic #thor x you #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #a wife for thor pt19

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nerdzzone · 3 years

Text

Luckless Romance

Summary: When Whitney Taylor was lucky enough to get the job of a lifetime doing a photoshoot for Marvel Studios, she didn’t expect to come away from the experience with a new friend. Especially not a friend that she quickly fell head over heels for.

Convinced that those feelings were completely one sided, she kept them to herself - until one night changed everything.

Chris Evans x OFC

18+

Prequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy + -More Hearts Than Mine-

Note: While this is set before the other two parts of this story, I would definitely recommend reading the other two first if you haven’t already. I know that might seem odd, but I do think it flows better that way. This is more of an aside than an introduction, I think, but it could just be that I wrote them in this order so that’s how it makes sense to me.

Anyway! Thank you to everyone who has been eagerly awaiting this part of their story. The support has been so motivating and I’m already working on more little snippets of their lives together that should hopefully be posted soon.

Please let me know what you think!

_____

August 2015

Growing up in Los Angeles - especially with a rather well known uncle - I was very aware that celebrities were really just normal people who usually weren't deserving of the obsessive adoration they received from the general public.

That being said, it still felt very surreal when I found myself sitting around a table with some of Hollywood's biggest stars as we celebrated the end of a long and tiring photo shoot in which I was the photographer. Three weeks earlier, I had been slaving away at a department store portrait studio taking boring, uninspired family photos, so the contrast between that and where I was now - sharing drinks with the cast of Marvel's next big movie after wrapping my first real photography gig - would be enough to make anyone feel a tad awestruck.

It didn't help that it had all come together so quickly that I'd hardly had time to wrap my head around it. The photographer that they originally had lined up to do the shoot had some kind of family emergency and had to drop out at the last minute. They were going to postpone the shoot indefinitely, but my family connections with Iron Man provided another solution. My uncle Rob wasted no time in giving Marvel my name and portfolio and less than twenty-four hours later I was signing a contract for the biggest career opportunity I'd ever had.

I was endlessly grateful - the pay was far better than I was getting at the department store and there was plenty of potential for more Marvel related photo shoots in the future - but the pressure was nerve wracking. I'd hardly slept at all in the few days leading up to it and by the time we wrapped, I was exhausted. As the adrenaline faded and the relief that I survived kicked in, I was very much looking forward to crawling into my bed with a nice glass of wine to get a good night's sleep before I started the editing process the next day.

But there was no time for rest with this crowd and it was quickly decided that we were all going out for some kind of unofficial wrap party. The official one had been two weeks before when they'd finished filming in Georgia, but now that they were reunited in L.A., it seemed another celebration was necessary. I'd protested at first and tried to sneak off before they could realize I was gone, but my uncle thwarted my plan and, after a few minutes of heavy guilting about how long it had been since I'd spent any time with him, I reluctantly agreed.

Which was how I found myself sitting at a table in a private room of a popular bar with my uncle - Robert Downey Jr - my Aunt Susan, Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie, Sebastian Stan, Scarlett Johannsen and Paul Rudd. There were other cast members and their friends dotted around the room, some sitting by the bar while others played pool, and I couldn't help but take a moment to be grateful that I'd been given a chance to join this team of incredibly talented people in some small way.

I was also taking a moment to be grateful that my placement in the booth we were sitting in gave me the opportunity to be sandwiched between the wall and Chris Evans - who smelt so good that it should probably be illegal.

There'd been a spark between us all day. He was attractive - I'd known that going in, it was a pretty beautiful cast - but seeing him in person with all his Captain America muscles was really quite a sight.

But it was more than just that.

There was something about the way he looked at me, flashing me those blush inducing smirks along side his teasing comments and the way he was so genuinely kind and polite to me throughout the whole day. I was sure that my uncle had warned them that this was my first high profile shoot, but Chris had been incredibly supportive and he never came across as condescending if he offered me any suggestions. He checked in with me throughout the day to make sure that I wasn't getting too overwhelmed and it was very much appreciated despite the fact that his effortless flirting often left me more distracted than productive.

Sitting next to him now, feeling his thigh pressed against mine due to the tight squeeze needed to fit our whole group around the table, had me very distracted again until my uncle dragged me back into the conversation.

"So, Whitney, how's Trent?"

His question, or more likely the displeasure in his voice when he asked it, captured the attention of the table and all eyes were on me as I shrugged.

"He's great as far as I know, but I haven't talked to him in a while," I admitted. "We broke up a couple of months ago."

"Thank god for that," Robert grinned. "It's about time!"

"Don't be insensitive," Susan scolded him, which probably would have been deserved if I didn't know how accurate of a statement it was. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I think she means 'what horrible thing did he do that finally made you come to your senses'?"

Susan swatted at her husband, but I cringed at the memory.

"It was really bad. I don't even want to tell you."

His jaw tightened at that remark as his glee shifted to something more like concern.

"What did he do? Do I need to assemble my team of Avengers and kick his ass?"

I giggled at the thought of that happening as all the men around the table voiced their willingness to help.

"Thank you, but no, I'd rather you didn't," I assured them. "It wasn't anything horrific, it's just embarrassing that I ever went out with someone as sleezy as he was."

Chris glanced down at me with a smirk on his face.

"Well, in that case, you gotta tell us now..."

The rest of the group nodded in agreement and I, rather foolishly, looked at my uncle for support, but all I received was a shrug and a raise of his eyebrow as if to say 'go on'. So, against my better judgment and with a sigh of shame and regret, I explained.

"He took me out for drinks on my birthday and invited some woman that he met on Tinder to join us," I informed them. "Apparently, without my knowledge, he'd advertised that we were looking for someone to join us for a threesome that night which was his birthday gift to me."

There was a collective widening of eyes and, after approximately two seconds of stunned silence, a howl of laughter came from my uncle. The rest of the group, however, seemed unsure what to say until Paul spoke up.

"Well, was that was you asked for?"

"No!" I shrieked in protest. "I mean, to each their own, but no! Absolutely not!"

My uncle looked like he was about to cry from laughter as the rest of the group joined in with him. All except for Chris, who was biting back a smile with what seemed to be a considerable amount of effort.

"Guys, c'mon, don't laugh at that!" He scolded them. "That's horrible!"

"Oh, don't feel too bad for her," Robert warned him, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "The guy took her to Hooters on their first date and she still agreed to see him again."

It was true and looking back, I had no way to justify such a poor choice. I felt my cheeks heat up as I took a long sip from the gin and tonic in front of me.

"Shut up," I huffed. "He said he just liked the wings there..."

"That's classic," Sebastian smirked. "That's what they all say!"

"Why did you even agree to go out with a man named Trent?" Anthony chimed in. "There's no way someone named Trent isn't going to be a douche bag."

Chris laughed then, throwing his head back as his hand came up to rest on his chest.

"That's true!" He howled and, as embarrassed as I was by the situation, I couldn't help but feel a different kind of flush at the sound of his heartfelt laugh.

"Okay, okay, that's enough," Susan chimed in despite the smile on her face as well. "It sounds like poor Whitney has learned her lesson so there's no need to make her feel any worse."

Robert shrugged and gave me a pointed look.

"As long as she promises to make better choices."

I appreciated that he had my best interest at heart, but I rolled my eyes anyway in a show of annoyance.

"Don't worry," I assured him. "I'm swearing off men for a while so there will be no choices made at all, good or bad, for the foreseeable future."

Susan frowned at that information, clearly displeased by my resignation to being alone, but luckily, a distraction arrived at our table and forced a change of subject - a distraction in the form of Jeremy Renner with a very full tray of shots.

Everyone cheered at the sight of him, but my uncle nudged me under the table to draw my attention back towards him.

"This is why I call him the Lord of the Underworld," he warned me. "Be careful..."

"Don't listen to him!" Jeremy insisted, handing out two shots to everyone except my aunt and uncle who weren't drinking. "I just know how to encourage everyone to have a good time."

"Does this group need any encouragement?"

Scarlett's question earned a laugh from the crowd, but Jeremy nodded his head.

"Apparently so or you wouldn't all be sitting in a corner, nursing your first drinks!" He pointed out. "So, drink up!"

He lifted a shot glass in the air and we all copied the action, giving a 'cheers' before tossing back the sharp tequila he'd chosen. The second shot went down almost immediately after and as I felt it burning down my throat, I knew we were in for quite a night.

"So, how are we going to do this?" Chris asked as we stood around a ping pong table with Anthony and Scarlett a bit later in the evening. "Girls against boys?"

"No way, man," Anthony shook his head, putting his arm around Scarlett's shoulders. "I want this one on my team."

"Ouch," Chris smirked. "But whatever, I was just trying to make it fair. If you want to play against the two best players then that's your choice."

"You literally met her today," Scarlett reminded him with a laugh. "How would you know what her ping pong skills are like?"

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but my uncle beat me to it as he chimed in from where he sat at a nearby table.

"She's terrible at almost every sport, but what she lacks in skill, she makes up for with competitive spirit."

"Terrible is harsh!"

My protest did nothing to reassure Chris though as he shook his head.

"Good thing I have enough skill for the both of us then."

"I have skills!" I insisted. "Let's stop messing around and I'll prove it."

Anthony joined in the laughter at my expense as he bounced the ball on the table.

"Alright, do we all know the rules?" He asked. "The ball has to bounce once on your side of the table before you can hit it back."

"First to ten?" Chris suggested. "We'll let you guys go first."

We all agreed and Anthony bounced the ball again as he prepared to serve. He started off slow and gentle, lobbing it over slowly enough that I returned it with no trouble. However, when Scarlett hit it back, Chris made it clear he was here to play as he hit it with enough force that Scarlett had to leap out of the way to avoid being hit.

"Yes!" I cheered, reaching over to high five Chris. "Nice one!"

"Okay, I see how it is," Anthony shook his head as he tossed the ball back to us for our serve. "No holding back now."

Chris smirked as he easily caught the ball. He didn't waste any time before throwing it back with a hard serve, but this time they were ready for it and Anthony hit it back easily. He aimed it at me, which I could only assume was deliberate due to my uncle's doubts of my abilities, but I managed to send it straight back. His surprise at my success was clear as he was unprepared for it to be heading back in his direction and we scored another point.

"Beginners luck!"

Robert's interjection from the sidelines earned him a rude gesture from me, but I knew he was probably right - unless the last couple of drinks had somehow sharpened my reflexes and I seriously doubted that as I was already well on my way past tipsy.

However, the next few rounds showed that my uncle had been wrong and I, apparently, had quite a knack for table tennis. Chris and I worked together like a dream and were absolutely decimating Scarlett and Anthony. The game was almost over as fast as it started, but when we only needed one more point Chris suddenly appeared to give up. He missed shot after shot and we were quickly losing our lead which was making me lose my temper.

"Dammit, Chris," I huffed, trying to suppress my annoyance as he missed a very easy ball. "Get it together over there!"

"Me?!" He gawked. "I thought you were going to get that one!"

"It was clearly on your side!"

"If that's what you think," he started as he picked up the ball and came back to the table. "Then you need to get your eyes tested, sweetheart."

"Don't 'sweetheart' me," I shot back. "Start paying more attention before you make us lose."

"Whatever you say," he smirked at me before adding: "Sweetheart."

I shot him a glare and - without thinking - I swatted his very hard to ignore, perfectly sculpted bum with my paddle. He yelped, catching the ball that he'd just thrown into the air with the intention of serving and stared at me wide-eyed. I was almost as surprised by the action as he was and I opened my mouth to apologize, but I was interrupted before I could.

"Careful there, Whitney," Sebastian warned from where he sat with my uncle at the spectator's table. "That's Marvel property!"

"They're very protective of it too," Anthony joked. "It's one of their best assets."

"Yeah, so show it some respect," Chris demanded, looking cocky despite the slight red tint to his cheeks. "And anyway, if you're trying to get me to focus then I don't think making me think about spanking is a great strategy."

"Ooh," I giggled. "Someone get me the number for TMZ! I've got tomorrow's headline ready for them: 'Chris Evans likes to be spanked'!"

Chris barked out a laugh, shaking his head as he gently served the ball.

"Who said I like to be the one receiving?"

My mouth went dry when I realized what he was implying and several uncalled fantasies flashed through my brain. With that short little sentence, images filled my mind of him using his large hands for something entirely different to what they were currently doing - something that perhaps involved bending me over his lap. I felt a wave of heat wash over me at that thought as my gaze was drawn to him while I wondered if he was aware of the effect that he had on me. I was so pathetically distracted that I didn't even see the ball coming back towards us until it hit me on the side of my head.

Despite my embarrassing blunder, Chris and I managed to get ourselves together quickly enough to still win the game and our victory was promptly celebrated by another round of drinks.

My aunt and uncle left not long after that as they were eager to get home to their young children, but my uncle couldn't go without a few parting words when I hugged them goodbye.

"Chris is a good man," he informed me. "I'm not sure what his stance is on threesomes, but he wouldn't take you to Hooters on a first date, that's for sure."

I could tell what he was implying, but I questioned him anyway. The only answer I could pull out of him was a teasing wink and Susan ushered him out the door with a roll of her eyes and firm instructions for me to call them soon.

I tried to push his comment from my mind because the thought of a man as handsome, funny and intelligent as Chris Evans even considering the idea of taking me on a date seemed like insanity, but I would have been lying if I said it didn't instill a tiny flicker of hope in me. I was fairly certain that he had been flirting with me so maybe it wasn't entirely as far-fetched as my low self-esteem would have me believe.

I tried not to dwell on his words too much through the rest of the evening, but it was hard to shake the idea from my mind. Especially with how tactile he was with me. Whether it was when we moved on to dancing and he pulled me close, whenever we were walking to the bar and kept his arm draped around my waist or when we eventually settled on a pair of bar stools, sitting close enough that my knees were tucked between his.

That was how we were sat, tucked together at the bar, when I finished another drink and realized that the fuzziness in my head and the weight of my eyelids were telling me that it was time to head home. I wasn't eager for the night to end, I wanted to stay in this little flirtatious bubble as long as possible, but I could feel the alcohol induced fatigue hitting me and I knew I needed to leave before I no longer had the energy.

"How are you getting home?" Chris asked when I announced my departure. "Do you want some company while you wait for a cab?"

"Oh, that's okay," I assured him as I slid off the bar stool I'd been sitting on. "I'm just gonna walk."

"Walk?" He raised an eyebrow. "Where do you live?"

"Only about twenty minutes away," I shrugged. "It's no big deal."

I was being purposely vague, but Chris' questions persisted until I finally confessed what neighbourhood I lived in. Once I did, a worried look clouded his face.

"Really? That's not a great area..."

"It's not that bad!" I insisted. "I mean, I'll definitely move once the photography thing picks up and I would appreciate if you don't tell my uncle, but it's not that bad."

"He doesn't know?" Chris raised an eyebrow, giving me a look that could only be interpreted as one of judgment. I nodded in answer to his question and he sighed, tossing back the last of the beer in front of him before standing up as well. "Just let me say goodbye and I'll walk with you."

"No, no, you don't have to do that! Stay with your friends."

"My Ma would kill me if she found out I let a woman walk home alone and I'm guessing Robert would have something to say about it too from what you just said," he insisted, flashing me one of his dazzling smiles. "Besides, I was gonna head out soon anyway."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded in response.

"Absolutely."

I felt bad that he was leaving because of me, but I had a feeling that any arguments would be futile. I followed him around the room, saying goodbye to the few people who were still at the bar before we headed outside. As soon as the fresh air hit me, I really felt the full affects of the several drinks I'd had throughout the night and I was quite grateful for Chris' company on my walk.

"Thanks for doing this. I'm sorry you had to leave early."

Chris had pulled his baseball hat lower on his head, probably in an attempt to hide his identity a bit more, but the people bustling in the streets were too oblivious or drunk to pay much attention.

"Don't worry about it," he smiled down at me. "It was time for me to go anyway. I've had enough wild nights with Renner to know that nothing good happens after midnight."

"Oh, I see how it is," I smirked. "I thought this was a chivalrous gesture, but it's just an act of self-preservation."

Chris laughed, a deep laugh that made my smirk slide into a grin, as he held out his arm for me to take which I happily did.

"Can't it be both?"

"I suppose. I guess you must be pretty chivalrous to take on a role like Captain America." As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt my cheeks heat up. "Sorry, that was dumb. I sound like some shitty interviewer. Like, 'tell me what aspects of the character you see in yourself'."

I'd put on a bad, faux news anchor voice for the last part of that sentence and I felt Chris' arm shake as he chuckled, but he shook his head.

"Nah, it's fine. It's a fair question," he assured me. "I think I've always been pretty chivalrous. I'm close with my mom and two sisters so they made sure I knew how to treat a lady. But that is one bonus of playing a character like Cap, he has such strong morals and such a steady sense of right and wrong, it inspires me to be as much like him as I can be."

Just as he finished his thought, I stumbled over an uneven part of the sidewalk and was only saved from face planting by his grip on my arm. I flushed with embarrassment again, but the alcohol in my system had me dissolving into giggles.

"Sorry, thank you. Wow, I'd say you really do have some Captain America traits." I flashed him a smile. "Was it like a lifelong dream for you? If you don't mind me asking, last question about it, I promise."

"You can ask all the questions you want," he shrugged and it seemed genuine, not just an expected assurance. "But no, it wasn't. I actually turned it down several times."

"Really? You did? Isn't a role like that every actor's dream?"

"Probably," he nodded. "But I did the Marvel thing with Fantastic Four and even that little taste of fame was almost too much for me. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do and I'm so grateful for all the opportunities I've been given, but it can be a lot to deal with."

"Those obsessive fangirls too much for you?"

"Sometimes," he admitted. " I was already having panic attacks, so I wasn't sure that I could handle taking that next step. But it's more just the total lack of privacy that comes with fame. Not just for me either, I knew it would affect my whole family."

"That makes sense," I nodded, knowing from my own experience that he was absolutely right. There'd been a few unfortunate incidents on slow news days where articles about 'Robert Downey Jr.'s niece' had popped up after some of my poorer choices in life. "Are you glad that you went for it now?"

"Absolutely! It was the best thing I've ever done. There are times when I still struggle, I don't do well at the premieres with all the pressure and the people, but the whole cast is like a family so the support is amazing."

"It's really sweet how close you guys all seem to be."

"It makes a big difference," Chris agreed as we turned off the main street in the direction of my neighbourhood. "But what about you? Have you always wanted to be a photographer?"

I paused for a moment as I tried to get my rather tipsy brain to figure out the simplest response to his question.

"Yes and no," I finally answered. "I've always loved photography, but I never really considered it as a career until about two years ago. I actually went to university to study accounting."

"Accounting? Wow, so you're a math wiz?"

"Hardly," I giggled. "It was what my dad wanted me to do to guarantee myself a solid career, but I hated it. I flunked out within a year. I'm not entirely sure that my dad has ever forgiven me for it, he was really disappointed in me."

"But surely he just wants you to be happy, whatever job you have..."

"You would think so," I shrugged. "Doesn't feel like it all the time though. He's very against the whole starving artist thing. He's not a bad person, but he's very practical and just can't understand how suffocating an office job would be for someone who likes to be creative. I get the impression that just being around me these days exasperates him."

I felt another blush cover my cheeks as I realized I was over-sharing. It could easily be blamed on the alcohol, but Chris was a good listener and I found him very easy to talk to.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "That was more information than you probably needed."

"You don't need to apologize so much," Chris assured me. "I wouldn't have asked the question if I didn't want to hear the answer."

"Sor-" I paused. "Bad habit, I guess."

Chris squeezed my arm and shot me a reassuring smile before getting our conversation back on track.

"So, what made you persevere with photography in the end?"

"I just really enjoy doing it. I love capturing those unexpected moments, like the awkward laughter in between poses, the moments when people have their guard down and don't realize how beautiful they look. Then, when I get to share the photos I've taken with people and they see themselves in a different way, the joy it brings them makes it worth any financial struggles." As I finished my explanation, a thought struck me. "I actually got some good ones today, just on my phone when you guys first came in, not doing the planned and posed stuff."

They'd all been so excited to see each other even though it was just a few short weeks since they'd wrapped the film. It was sweet and I hadn't been able to resist capturing their reunion.

"Really? Could I see them?"

"If you give me your phone number, I can send them to you," I smiled up at him. "That would actually be helpful. They're obviously different than the ones I took for the actual shoot, but you can tell me if they're any good or if you think I just got the job because of my connections."

I reached into my bag and handed my phone to Chris so he could type in his number which he did before shooting me a skeptical glance.

"Do you really think your connection to Robert is the only reason you got the job?"

"Well, it was all so last minute. I can't help, but assume it's a mix of desperation and some pulled strings," I admitted. "But I know this is my one shot. Robert really believes in people making their own way in life so if I totally blow this opportunity, I know he won't fight for them to have me back again and I wouldn't want him to."

We turned another corner, taking us just a few blocks from my apartment building as Chris answered.

"I'm sure he wouldn't have gotten you the job if there was any chance that he thought you would fail," Chris assured me. "But he is a good person to have in your corner. I probably wouldn't have taken the Captain America gig at all if it wasn't for him convincing me I could do it. He can be very persuasive."

I smiled at that information. I knew my uncle didn't like to take no for an answer so I could imagine how that conversation went.

"He can be very encouraging when he needs to be," I agreed. "Even if that encouragement sometimes comes out in the form of publicly shaming someone for their taste in men."

Chris let out another deep laugh and shook his head.

"C'mon, you gotta admit you deserved that."

"I did not!"

"He took you to Hooters and you didn't run away as fast as possible," Chris reminded me as if I could have forgotten such an embarrassing decision. "If that's not deserving of some public shaming then I don't know what is."

"Dating is hard these days," I huffed. "Maybe it would be easier if I had giant muscles like you, but it's hard to meet people."

"I think having muscles the size of mine would actually make you less hot."

I couldn't bite back the giggle that slipped from my lips as I looked up at him with a questioning raise of my eyebrows.

"Less hot?" I asked. "That would imply that you think I'm hot now."

"I do," Chris smirked confidently. "I think you're fuckin' gorgeous."

His words instantly made my cheeks heat up again. I'd baited him into the compliment, but I didn't expect his blunt and honest answer. I was stunned into a momentary silence that only made Chris' smirk grow wider until I giggled once again.

"You're just drunk."

"I am not," Chris chuckled. "Well, maybe a little, but that doesn't change the facts."

There was a grin on my face and I felt like a little schoolgirl with a crush. Chris Evans just called me gorgeous. Any woman who said they didn't swoon in that situation was probably lying.

"That's very sweet of you to say," I told him, trying to play it cool. "You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself."

Chris squeezed my arm again as he flashed me a smile.

My apartment building was in sight now, just half a block away, and I was disappointed that our evening was about to end.

I was comfortable with Chris. He was nice and easy to talk to and I'd had more fun and laughs with him in the last few hours than I'd had throughout most of my last relationship. But despite our harmless flirting, I knew he was too good for me. I knew that I didn't stand a chance with him and that when the alcohol wore off and the sun came up, he would see that. As much as I wasn't ready to say goodbye, I could hardly keep us walking in circles around the block without him noticing so I reluctantly slowed to a stop outside my building.

"This is me..."

Chris looked up and nodded slowly.

"It doesn't look so bad."

"Because it's not!" I insisted. "Honestly, this isn't that bad of a neighbourhood."

"Well, it's not that great either, Whitney."

Another giggle slipped from my lips as I pulled my keys out of my purse, reluctantly slipping my arm from his.

"Your accent makes my name sound funny," I teased. "You don't say Whitney, you say Win-ney."

Chris laughed, but shook his head.

"Now who's drunk."

"Oh, definitely me," I admitted. "But that doesn't mean I'm wrong."

"Okay, Winnie, whatever you say."

He said my name wrong on purpose that time, but there was something about it that put a smile on my face. Emboldened by the alcohol and by his flirtatious nature, I decided to take a chance.

"Do you want to come up for a bit?" I asked. "One last drink maybe?"

Chris hesitated, but after a moment of thought, he shook his head.

"Nah, I should probably get home. I think I've had enough drinks for tonight." His solid reasoning eased the blow of rejection slightly, but it still burned me up inside. "Thanks for the invite though, maybe I'll take you up on that offer another time."

"Sure," I nodded, hoping I was masking my disappointment. "That would be nice."

"Great," he grinned before pulling me into a hug. "It was nice to meet you, Winnie. I have a feeling that we're going to be good friends."

Friends.

Good friends.

His words echoed in my head as I agreed and slipped out of his grasp. We said our goodbyes, I thanked him for escorting me home and I watched as he walked back down the street before I went inside.

Friends. F-R-I-E-N-D-S.

At least he'd made himself clear and subtly let me down easy before I had chance to form any wrong ideas about what our relationship was or could be. It hurt and I would be lying if I said it didn't feel a bit like a stab in the heart, but I was glad that he'd put me in my place before I made a fool of myself by making a move.

I knew I'd been getting ahead of myself anyway. I knew he was way out of my league, but he'd called me gorgeous and walked me home. He'd even given me a nickname. Maybe I'm just easy to impress, but it felt like he was interested. I guess being a big star in Hollywood requires a certain level of charm though and he was probably just used to being naturally flirtatious with most of the women he encounters.

I sighed as I let myself into my apartment and tossed my bag on the table by the door. I'd felt like the luckiest girl in the world only moments earlier and now I was back to feeling like I was a romantic lost cause. I dragged myself through the motions of getting ready for bed and flopped down on top of the blankets - it was too hot to be under them and I didn't have the luxury of air conditioning.

Perhaps it was for the best that Chris declined my invitation to come upstairs, I thought to myself. This apartment was hardly up to Hollywood standards, it was hardly up to my own standards even if it was all that I could afford.

As my head laid on the pillow and my heart sat heavy in my chest, I told myself that it was fine. If Chris wanted to just be friends then I would be grateful that he even wanted that. I made a mental note to send him those pictures in the morning - because I'd promised to and not because I was curious to see what kind of response I would get when he was sober - and fell into a restless sleep filled with dreams of my new friend.

---

July 2016

And so, we were friends. Good friends, maybe even great friends.

I sent Chris the photos he’d asked for the day after we met and we spent most of that day messaging back and forth. Our friendship only grew from there and, whenever he was in town, we spent as much time together as we possibly could.

But we kept things very much friendly.

There was some flirtatious exchanges, but I respected his wishes and kept the feelings that I'd developed to myself.

My career really took off in the year after we met as well. That first Marvel photo shoot had gone incredibly well which led to several more contracts with them as well as other high profile jobs. It was a long, busy year, but I was grateful and relished in my success.

I'd even managed to move into a new apartment in a much nicer neighbourhood which felt like quite a big achievement and had finally silenced Chris' fretting about my safety. I moved in May, but our busy schedules kept him from seeing my upgraded home for himself until that summer, almost a year after we met. He was returning to L.A. from a trip home to Massachusetts and we hadn't seen each other in months so I was very eager for our reunion. Despite the fact that were still in constant communication, I'd missed him terribly and had been counting down the minutes until he would be arriving at my place.

"So," My friend's voiced echoed through my phone from where it sat on the bathroom counter while I finished curling my hair into beachy waves. "Are you going to finally make a move tonight?"

"No," I scoffed. "Of course not, Hannah. I've not seen him in a while now, I want us to have a good time. I don't want to make him uncomfortable and ruin everything."

"I will bet you a thousand dollars that it wouldn't ruin everything," she insisted. "Honestly, I will give you a thousand dollars if you make a move tonight and it goes badly."

I rolled my eyes as I finished the last curly wave and reached for my hairspray.

"You can't put a price on my friendship with Chris."

"Oh my god," she groaned. "He's told you that he thinks you're gorgeous, he makes time to hang out with you whenever he can and he texts you every single day. He treats you better than any boyfriend you've ever had. How can you think he doesn't have feelings for you?"

I took a moment to spray my hair and give myself one last look over before taking her off speaker and answering the question as I walked towards my kitchen.

"Because he straight up told me that he wants to be friends," I reminded her. "And he's never given me any other signs that he's interested in anything more."

"He doesn't need to give you any signs. When someone looks at you the way that he looks at you that says enough."

"Well, I'm going to need him to say a little more."

Another groan came through the phone as the buzzer to my apartment rang.

"You're impossible."

"I know, I know, and my lack of self-esteem will make me die alone," I said, repeating the words she'd told me a hundred times. "But he's here now, so you're going to have to save your criticisms for another time."

"Just tell him how you feel," she huffed. "I expect a full report in the morning."

The buzzer rang again as I agreed and said my goodbyes to my friend. I took a deep breath and a moment to push Hannah's words from my mind before pressing the button on the intercom.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Win, it's me! Let me up."

I pressed the button to unlock the door and felt my lips slide into a cheek aching grin just from the sound of his voice. It had been too long since we'd had a chance to hang out and I was very much looking forward to a nice evening together.

It took him barely a minute to get up to my apartment, knocking twice before letting himself in.

"Hey!" I grinned, rushing towards him as he held his arms open. I threw mine around him as soon as I was close enough and squeezed him tightly. "I missed you!"

"I missed you too," he smiled. "Nice place you got here, someone's doing well for themselves."

"Oh, please," I giggled, slipping out of his arms. "I've seen your house, Mr. Evans. This is a dump compared to where you live."

"Nah, this place is great!"

"It's definitely an improvement," I admitted as I led him towards the kitchen. "Would you like a drink? I bought that beer you like."

"You didn't have to do that. I would have been fine with whatever you have in," he chided me, but I waved him off and assured him it was fine. "What's the plan for tonight anyway?"

I shrugged as I opened the fridge to get a beer out for him and a bottle of wine for myself.

"I don't mind. Do you want to go out for drinks later or just stay here? It is a Saturday so everywhere around here will be packed with women in their early twenties if you'd like your ego stroked a bit."

I was referring to the last time we'd gone out and made the mistake of going to a bar that turned out to be pretty unfriendly to celebrities. A lot of places in L.A. made it easy for celebrities to go under the radar, but the place we'd gone to apparently wasn't one of them. There was a steady stream of beautiful young women trying their luck with Chris all night until we eventually fled and went back to his place just to give him some peace.

Chris laughed, clearly understanding what I was referencing, but he shook his head.

"Honestly? I'd prefer to stay in tonight," he admitted, but a smirk slid onto his face as he very obviously gave me a once over. "But you got all dressed up and it would be a shame to waste an outfit like that on a night in."

"Oh, this old thing?" I glanced down at the short black sundress I was wearing, a blush covering my cheeks from his compliment. "I just put this on in case we did decide to go out, but staying in sounds good to me. I'm well stocked with supplies."

I gestured to the wine and beer on the counter and the few bottles of hard liquor behind them.

"Then we'll stay in?"

"Sure," I nodded as a thought hit me and I gasped with excitement. "Oh, we can sit on my balcony! It over looks the park and I just got a new little couch for it."

"Very fancy," Chris laughed. "You really are doing well for yourself."

"Shut up," I rolled my eyes. "I don’t think Ikea patio furniture is a particularly high aspiration for anyone."

"Don't sell yourself short! You're finally getting recognition for your talent and that's worth celebrating."

I smiled as I led him through the living room and opened the door to my balcony with a flourish. The heat of July in California hit us immediately, but the balcony was shaded which made it a more reasonable temperature.

"This is nice," Chris nodded approvingly. "Well done, Winnie."

He sat on the couch and held his beer up towards me. I gently clinked my glass against it before sitting next to him. I thanked him once I was settled, hiding the width of my grin with my glass as I took a sip.

"So, how was Massachusetts?" I asked, curling my feet underneath me. "Do you have much more time off or are you back at it pretty quick?"

"I've actually got some time off," Chris informed me. "I think I'll probably spend most of it back home. It was great being there the last few weeks. It just feels better than L.A."

"Most places probably feel better than L.A.," I pointed out with a scoff. "This place is exhausting."

"You should come visit some time," Chris suggested before flashing me a smirk. "I feel bad leaving you here when I'm clearly your only friend."

"Excuse me, that is not true!" I protested, my jaw dropping at his insult as he chuckled at his own joke. "I have plenty of friends, thank you very much. All those liquor bottles on the counter are leftover from my very crowded house-warming party."

"Oh, no, Winnie," he laughed, his hand coming up to his chest. "Don't try and provide evidence that you have friends. That makes you seem even more pathetic."

"More pathetic than what? I have friends!"

"Imaginary ones don't count."

I couldn't help, but laugh at that insult as I shook my head.

"You're so rude. I don't know why I put up with you."

"Because you have no one else." He shot me a very over the top look of pity until I swatted his arm and he dissolved into laughter again. "Okay, okay, I'll stop. Seriously though, you should come out to Massachusetts sometime. I'll show you around."

"That would be fun," I agreed. "I'm pretty busy with work over the summer, but I think I'm in New York for a shoot in September. I could maybe tie a trip in with that if you're still out there."

"I should be if nothing else comes up," Chris nodded. "And fall is a great time to come. It's gorgeous."

"I bet. It would be nice to experience a season instead of just this sweltering L.A. heat all the time."

I made a face to emphasize my point as I sipped my drink and Chris eyed me suspiciously.

"I can't help, but get the impression that you're not loving it here at the moment..."

"I don't know," I shrugged. "Not really. I thought moving into a better apartment would help, but I'm just kinda tired of it, I guess."

"It can be draining here," he nodded. "Have you thought about moving somewhere else?"

I sighed and shook my head.

"Not really. I'd miss my family too much. I'd have to have a good reason, I think, or know someone wherever I was going."

"Well, you'll always know someone in Massachusetts," he smiled. "And my Ma would love you. I'm sure she'd take you in right away."

"Awe, Mama Evans. I'd love to meet her...Mostly so I could demand an apology for her part in raising such a horrible man."

Chris threw his head back with another chest grab worthy laugh.

"Oh man, I know. My brother is pretty awful."

I snorted a laugh at his comeback, but shook my head.

"Scott was delightful the few times I met him," I informed him. "I was clearly talking about you."

"Me?!" He gasped dramatically. "What are you talking about? I'm a total gentleman."

"Imaginary friends don't count," I repeated his words back to him in a very bad impression of his deep voice and Boston accent. "Yeah, you're such a gentleman."

"It's called a joke, Winnie," he teased. "Try having a sense of humour."

I stuck my tongue out at him in response, but I had to admit that the teasing was nice. I really had missed him while he was away and I was relieved that we fell back together so naturally that it was like we'd never been apart.

Our conversation continued to flow well into the night and so did our drinks. A few hours later and several alcoholic beverages down, the temperature was starting to drop a bit as the sun set, but our conversation was just starting to heat up.

"So," Chris turned to me with a smirk as he sipped the tequila sunrise I'd just made for him. He'd sworn he wouldn't like it, that it would be too sweet, but apparently he was too tipsy to really care. "How's your love life these days? Any more trips to Hooters?"

I snorted a laugh as I shook my head.

"I need more alcohol if we're going to delve into my love life."

Mostly because the biggest detriment to my romantic life was currently sitting on the couch with me, but I wasn't going to volunteer that information. Chris nudged the bottom of the glass in my hand, gently enough not to spill any but firmly enough to lift it slightly.

"Drink up then because I'm curious. Especially after a statement like that."

The irony of someone who was very vocal about how much they hated being constantly interrogated and harassed about their love life trying to do that exact thing to me wasn't lost on me, but I knew he'd keep pestering me until I opened up. I did as Chris suggested and took a large swig of my drink before answering him.

"No, there hasn't been any more dates at Hooters lately," I assured him. "But I did go on a date last week that was disappointing in it's own way."

Chris raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? How so?"

"He turned out to be a Robert Downey Jr. fanboy," I admitted, rolling my eyes as Chris let out a laugh. "It was going well until I made the mistake of mentioning that he's my uncle. He wouldn't shut up about him - stop laughing! - It was awful. Honestly, he went on and on! I eventually asked him if he'd rather be on a date with my uncle than me."

"And what did he say?"

I scowled at the memory.

"He said yes and asked for his number." That admission drew another howl of laughter from Chris and I couldn't help, but giggle along with him despite my shaking head. "Honestly, Chris, it's not funny. I have the worst luck."

"You have the worst taste in men." He corrected and I wondered briefly if he'd be less confident in that statement if he knew that he was my taste, even more so when he continued. "You're only interested in the douchey guys and then you're always shocked when they act like assholes."

"That is so not true!" I protested. "How am I supposed to know they're going to be douche bags? We talk for like two days on a dating app before we meet up and they always seem normal!"

"What was this one's job?"

I cringed and took another big swig of my drink.

"A club promoter."

"Exactly!" Chris groaned. "And hadn't the one before him quit his job to try and get famous on YouTube?"

"Instagram," I corrected. "But, so what? I struggled for a long time before my career went anywhere. You can't judge people by something like that."

"For the most part, I agree with you," Chris nodded. "But there are some careers that only attract a certain kind of person."

I huffed at his logic, but there was some truth to what he was saying.

"Dating is just hard these days," I insisted. "Besides, from what I've seen online lately, you're one to talk about messy relationships."

Now it was Chris' turn to take a gulp of the drink in his hand as he raised an eyebrow at my claim.

"Everything you read about me is bullshit, you know that. I haven't dated anyone lately, people just like to make things up."

"Oh, what I was reading the other day wasn't really about who you were dating."

That got his attention as he shot me a surprised look.

"What was it about then?"

"I thought it was all bullshit?" I smirked. "Does it matter what it was if it's not true?"

Chris shrugged.

"Even if it's not true, I like to know what people are saying about me."

"And you don't have a team to provide you with that information?"

"I do," he nodded. "But they don't tell me everything so I'd love to know what you read."

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling shy about disclosing what I'd seen. I took a moment to figure out how to say it before telling him.

"I stumbled across an article that claimed an anonymous source, who recently spent the night with you, told them that you are not particularly skilled at going down on a woman."

Chris' jaw dropped and I couldn't help, but laugh again at the outrage on his face.

"That's fuckin' bullshit!" He protested. "Why would anyone believe an anonymous source? It's obviously not true! Why would they even write that?"

I smirked again as I tried to hold back the laughter bubbling up inside me. Of course, I didn't believe an anonymous source and I felt bad for Chris that mean rumours like that were being spread around the internet, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to tease him about it anyway.

"I don't know. She must have had some kind of proof, they wouldn't have published it without fact checking."

"They absolutely would!" Chris laughed incredulously. "They publish anything that gets clicks!"

I shrugged and tried to stifle the giggles still fighting to come out.

"It seemed pretty believable to me. I'm not trying to be mean, but maybe just take the criticism and use it to grow."

"I don't need to use it to grow!" He insisted. "I have plenty of skills in that area, I've never had any complaints."

"Until now."

"It's not true!"

"Unfortunately, I'll never know..."

I froze, hearing my words echo through my head as Chris' eyes widened in surprise for a brief moment before a twinkle appeared. It was a simple statement, but we both picked up on what it implied, especially with the hint of intrigue, almost challenge, in my voice.

Chris tossed back the last of his drink and then shifted, sitting up a bit straighter as the look of annoyance on his face had changed into something almost cocky. I took a sip of my own drink, hoping to drown the nerves that were bubbling in my stomach as the cool evening breeze suddenly did nothing to ease the heat that surrounded us.

"Well, how am I suppose to prove it to you?"

He moved his hand until it was resting on my knee and I had to stifle a gasp at the sensation. We were fairly affectionate and much more touchy with each other than many friends were, but this felt different. There was a tension between us now and I swallowed hard, not wanting the alcohol in my system to make me misinterpret anything.

"I don't know." I bit my lip as he stared me down, a smirk back on his face now. "Why don't you de-describe it?"

Demonstrate.

Demonstrate was the word that I was looking for, the word that was on the tip of my tongue.

Describe was not quite as flirtatious. It was like I'd just set him some kind of essay assignment. I cringed, but Chris was unfazed as he chuckled and nodded his head.

"Alright," he shrugged. "Where should I start?"

Before I even had time to answer, he began his explanation.

His voice was low as he spoke, sparing no detail. He described every kiss, every touch and every little tease. By the time he was describing how much he liked to watch whoever was he was pleasuring, looking up from where his face was buried to see her orgasm roll through her body, I was almost shamelessly panting. His hand was still on my leg, stroking higher and higher on my thigh and I felt more aroused from his words than I had from the last few sexual encounters that I'd had.

He was watching me when he finished speaking, a smirk on his face and his eyes narrowed in a seductive stare as I took a shaky breath.

It was now or never.

Tossing back the last of my drink, I put my glass on the table. Then, I took the glass in his hand and did the same.

He was watching me the whole time, meeting my eyes as I sat back on the couch. My mind was running a mile a minute as the gravity of the situation hit me, but I tried to push all thoughts of doubt from my head as I bit my bottom lip in anticipation. His eyes flicked down to watch the movement and that was all the confirmation I needed.

I darted forward fast enough that I wouldn't have time to change my mind and pressed my lips against his.

There was a brief moment when he froze. I felt his hand tense on my thigh and his body seemed more rigid than it had moments ago, but he recovered quickly and a low growl came from his throat before his hands moved to my waist and effortlessly lifted me into his lap.

I gasped at the movement, momentarily taking my lips away from his, but before I could even mumble out any comments on his strength, he'd pressed our lips together again.

It was a sloppy kiss. Spurred on by our mounting tension and the panic bubbling inside me that any minute now he would change his mind and push me away in disgust, our movements were frantic and desperate. My hands slid around his neck, one moving up to the back of his head as if I needed to hold him in place, but his fingers digging into my waist made me think that he was having the same thought.

Eventually though, the need for air forced us apart and I rested my forehead against his as we fought to catch our breath. The pause in our actions gave my brain time to catch up to my body and I immediately felt the nerves kick in.

Logically, I knew we should slow things down and talk about what this meant. My feelings for Chris went deeper than a drunken hook up and I was setting myself up for heartbreak if he wasn't on the same page. However, there was a more impulsive part of my brain that didn't care. I'd wanted this for so long, surely I deserved a chance to just enjoy it.

As if Chris could read my mind, his deep voice cut through my thoughts.

"Are we really doing this?"

I bit my lip, knowing this was the time to voice any concerns that I had, but as I stared into his eyes, I couldn't make myself jeopardize the moment.

"Yes," I nodded. "I'm in if you are?"

A smirk slid onto Chris' face as he nodded as well.

"I've been waiting almost a whole fuckin' year for this," he admitted. "I'm absolutely in."

I felt my heart flutter at his confession. If he'd been waiting for this as long as I had then that must have meant that we were on the same page. No one waits that long for a meaningless fuck, he would have made a move by now if there wasn't more to it.

In an effort to silence my overactive brain, I pressed my lips back against his which proved to be the perfect distraction. All worries and cares slipped from my mind as his tongue slipped back into my mouth and his hands drifted down to cup my ass. I could practically feel them burning through my thin dress and as they squeezed slightly, pressing my hips closer towards his, I could tell that my panties were already much damper than was probably reasonable.

But the anticipation was practically killing me.

My body felt like it was on fire as every brush of his tongue, every caress of my skin, every sigh that fell from his lips against my mouth, had me writing against him like a cat in heat. Often, when I'd imagined what this moment would be like, I'd assumed it would be slow - we'd take our time and savour every touch - but I hadn't factored in just how desperate we'd both be or how quickly I would be filled with the absolute need for there to be less layers of fabric between us.

Chris sucked in a deep breath as his lips moved from mine, sliding lower to kiss along my jaw. I could feel a bulge growing between us, telling me that he was as overeager as I was so, as shivers tingled down my spine from the trail his mouth was taking, I fought through the distractions to speak.

"Chris," I panted. "Let's go inside."

His lips paused their movement as he nuzzled into my neck.

"Not much of an exhibitionist?"

"Not on the first date."

My words were teasing and a shrug of my shoulders accompanied my response, earning a chuckle from Chris.

"Alright, that's fair."

I nudged his head away from my skin so I could press another soft kiss to his lips.

My intention was to then climb off of his lap and lead him into my apartment, but he had other ideas as his hands slid under my thighs and his grip tightened. With one smooth motion and an impressive show of strength, he stood from the couch and lifted me up with him. I gasped and rushed to wrap my legs around his waist for stability, but the smirk on his face and the bulge of his bicep told me that it probably wasn't necessary. He was incredibly strong and it sent another flush of arousal through me at the thought of the beautifully sculpted physique under his clothes.

"Are you bulking up for Cap again?"

I mumbled the words in an attempt to keep my mind busy and stop myself before I started rubbing myself against his stomach. With the way my legs were positioned there was merely a shirt and my panties between us and it was entirely too tempting.

"Nah, got a month or two before that starts again," he informed me, quirking an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

I pointed him towards the door of my bedroom before answering as I tried to keep the shock out of my voice.

"So, you're like, always this strong?"

Chris chuckled slightly as he kicked my bedroom door open.

"Well, I'm no club promoter," he teased. "But I do tend to stay at a certain level of fitness for when the job does require it."

My jaw dropped at his audacity to bring that up again at a moment like this, but I couldn't stop the snort of laughter that slipped out.

"Shut up," I demanded, letting my thumb stroke against the soft skin on the back of his neck. "Before I come to my senses and ask you to leave."

Now it was Chris' turn to laugh as he gently tossed me onto the bed before crawling over me like a lion stalking it's prey.

"C'mon," he smirked as he hovered over me. "I think we both know that the last thing you want me to do right now is leave."

With that, he pressed his lips back against mine before I had chance to argue. Not that I would have, because he was absolutely right. There was a long list of things I wanted him to do, but leaving was not one of them. In fact, as I let my arms slid over his toned shoulders, I pulled him even closer.

I couldn't get enough of him. I wanted to hear every little grunt and moan, I wanted to feel every inch of his body against mine, I wanted to see his muscles quiver and twitch with pleasure, I wanted him inside me and we'd barely even started. A year of waiting would make anyone desperate and, as much as I was revelling in his talented mouth as it moved against my own, I was eager to see what else he could do with it.

Sliding my hands down along his back, I ran them over his waist until they were at the hem of his shirt and, in an attempt to move things along, I slid them back up over his stomach, bringing his shirt with them. I paused, taking a moment to trace over his abs and he chuckled, moving his lips down to nuzzle them into my neck.

"That tickles," he mumbled against my skin as I smiled.

"Sorry, I'm just trying to wrap my head around the fact that these muscles are real."

"They are," he smiled up at me. "Are you impressed?"

"Maybe a little," I admitted with a smile of my own. "I'll be more impressed if you get these clothes out of the way and let me admire you properly."

He chuckled again, but didn't fight as I pulled his shirt over his head. The light in the room was dim and the way we were positioned didn't give me an optimal view, but what I could see was enough to draw a soft gasp from my lips.

I'd seen him shirtless and in even less from a few sneaky Google searches and watching his old movies, but seeing it all right in front of me was quite a treat. I had to double check that I wasn't drooling at the sight as I openly stared, my mouth slightly agape.

I realized I was probably ogling him a little too long when a faint blush covered his cheeks and he ducked his head back against my neck. He placed another soft kiss against my skin before he spoke.

"Now, it's your turn."

"Okay," I agreed, swallowing hard. "But just keep in mind that I don't look like that."

I ran my hands up and down his sides to emphasize what I was referring to and I felt more than heard him chuckle as he peered up at me once more.

"I'd be disappointed if we had the same upper body," he teased. "I mean, if I'm being honest."

I rolled my eyes despite the smile on my face.

"You know what I mean," I insisted. "I'm not sculpted by the Gods like you are."

His head fell back against my shoulder as he shook with laughter before shaking his head.

"You have nothing to worry about," he assured me. "You're too hard on yourself. You're fuckin' gorgeous."

His words took me back to the first night we met as the sincerity in his voice was the same as it had been back then. And there was something about the confidence with which he spoke that had me believing him.

So, as his hands slid under my dress - teasing the outside of my thighs in a way that had me biting my lip to force back a moan - I pushed any negative thoughts or doubts about myself from my mind. I even felt a hint of pride when my dress was discarded, exposing my lack of bra, and making Chris' eyes darken as they scoured over my body.

"Fuck, Winnie," he groaned as he soaked in the sight of my exposed chest. "You're beautiful."

I felt my heart flutter at the genuine awe in his voice and at his word choice. Gorgeous, hot, sexy - those are all compliments I would have loved to receive from him, but beautiful. It seemed deeper, more romantic. There was a brief reminder from the voice in my head that perhaps the importance of such a simple word was a signal I shouldn't be moving forward with this without having a very serious conversation about feelings first, but I was quick to ignore it as I pulled Chris back to my lips.

It seemed he was as desperate to move things along as I was though as his mouth didn't linger against mine for very long before it was trailing a path down my neck. He paused when he got to my chest, letting out a groan as he nuzzled the skin before sucking it just hard enough to leave a faint mark when he moved back. The sight had me squirming beneath him and he shot me a smirk before moving his lips to my nipple.

Gasping at the sensation, I arched up towards him as he continued to nip and tease me. If his current actions were anything to go by then whoever wrote the article that I read was very sorely mistaken. He appeared to be incredibly talented with his mouth and by the time he moved away from my nipple to continue his path down my body, my chest was heaving and I was sure that I was just one gentle touch away from my peak.

However, I was disappointed when he got to the top of my panties and, after licking along the skin of my lower stomach, pushed himself up and moved off of me to stand at the foot of my bed. I whined in protest, wanting him as close to me as possible, but all I got was a smirk in response.

"Patience," he mumbled as he unbuttoned his jeans.

I wanted to pout, to argue that I'd been patient enough in the last year, but any complaints died on my tongue as he pushed his jeans to the floor. As he stood in front of me, only in his underwear, my sense of urgency was replaced by an appreciation for the chance to admire his chiselled body. I propped myself up on my elbows to get a better view and he chuckled at the look of wonder that I was sure was on my face.

His underwear was the next thing to go and the anticipation turned quickly to shock as my jaw dropped at what he revealed. I could have assumed from the large bulge that he was quite well-endowed, but seeing it confirmed sent a whole new flush of arousal through me. I mumbled out a 'wow' as I bit my lip and tried to take it all in - he truly was a gorgeous man.

"Like what you see?"

His question snapped me out of my daze as he knelt back down on the end of the bed.

"Very much so," I nodded, desperate to feel his body over mine once again. "Come back up here."

"No," Chris grinned as he ducked down to place a kiss on my ankle. "Not yet."

Again, part of me wanted to argue and demand that he return his mouth to mine and get things moving, but before I could even open my mouth, he made his intentions clear - by tracing his fingers up my leg with his lips close behind.

I was quivering under his touch, still leaning up on my elbows when he reached the edge of the panties I was wearing. He glanced up at me as he licked along the lace before he bit into the material and tugged. I lifted my hips to ease his struggle as he yanked my panties down my legs with his teeth. The sight of it had me squeezing my thighs together, desperate for any kind of friction, but as soon as my underwear joined the rest of our clothes on the floor, he was quick to pull my legs apart again.

"Keep 'em open for me," he demanded, that damn smirk still firmly on his face. "I've got something to prove."

I giggled at that statement, but did as he asked. I was still watching his movements, until he dipped his head forehead and pressed his lips against me. That first moment of contact was enough to have my head flopping back against the pillows as my hands shot down to grip his hair. I was vaguely aware of him mumbling something about how wet I was, but my brain was too busy trying to process the pleasure he was giving me to take in his words.

He wasted no time demonstrating everything that he'd described to me earlier that night. His tongue was focused and precise in its movements and, contrary to what I read, he clearly knew what he was doing as he easily narrowed in on my clit. It wasn't enough though. I needed more pressure, more friction, and I pushed up towards him with a moan on my lips to urge him on. He wasn't having any of that as his hands looped under my thighs to settle on my hips, holding me in place, but he increased the pressure as he apparently understood what I needed despite my lack of ability to verbalize it.

I immediately felt a familiar feeling starting to build.

He sucked and licked with an urgency that I very much appreciated, flicking his tongue in just the right spot at just the right speed to have me trembling beneath him. I managed to gasp out a warning 'oh god' as my hands gripped his hair even tighter and I fell apart into a puddle of whimpers and moans. My orgasm hit me more fiercely than I'd imagined in my wildest fantasies of this moment and I arched up against him, his name pouring from my lips like a chant as he continued his efforts with a low groan of his own only adding to my pleasure.

As my breathing started to slow, Chris gently ceased his movements and moved his head back before resting his chin on my thigh. He cocked an eyebrow as he looked up at me.

"Well?"

"I'm going to write my own article," I told him, feeling that wonderful post peak bliss wash over me. "Because someone was obviously very misinformed."

Chris chuckled before pulling his hands from my hips to plant them on the bed and drag himself back over me.

"I'm glad I exceeded expectations."

"Mhmm," I hummed in agreement as his lips hovered above mine. "Now, let's see what else you can do."

Chris flashed me a smile and kissed me briefly before leaning back just enough to reach down and take his cock in his hand. Another moan fell from my lips as he rubbed it against me for a moment before nudging against my entrance and finally pressing inside. He moved slowly, but even so, I winced at the sensation. The slight burn as I stretched around him felt good but there was an undeniable ache as well. Sensing my hesitation, Chris paused and dropped his head for another soft kiss. I waited a moment, until the initial spark of discomfort had passed before pressing my hips up towards him.

He took the hint and continued his slow, almost torturous, movement until he was fully inside. The burning pain returned as it felt like he was taking up every inch of space I had to offer, but it felt incredible.

"Fuck," he breathed against my neck where his head had settled again. "You're tight..."

He shifted his hips pulling another gasp from my lips.

"Only because you're huge."

I felt a puff of laughter before he nipped at my shoulder.

"Thank you."

I would have smacked him for his cocky tone, but he moved then and suddenly my mind was blank of anything other than how good it felt. His movements were slow at first, every thrust dragging every inch of him against every nerve inside me, but his restraint quickly waned as his pace increased.

I let out a moan as my head fell back against the pillows and I hitched my leg higher on his hip. He moved his hand to the back of my thigh to hold it in place as he built a steady rhythm that had us both panting as I fought to match his thrusts. My fingers dug into his shoulders as his short beard rubbed against my skin.

The sensations were overwhelming. It was like he was completely encompassing me, smothering all of my senses and I could feel the pressure building again in the pit of my stomach in a way that it all felt like too much, but not enough all at the same time. I clenched around him, earning a groan of approval from Chris as I swore I could feel him twitch inside me. The pleasure was building quickly and his thrusts got sloppier and more frantic until suddenly he pulled out of me completely.

I felt empty and immediately wanted him back inside of me, my disappointment only growing as he pushed himself up to kneel back on his heels. The only compensation was how good he looked, muscles tight and his cock hard, practically throbbing and shiny from my being drenched in my wetness.

"Turn over," he instructed, his raspy voice bringing me back to the task at hand.

It took a moment for me to process his words, but I giggled as soon as I did.

"What?" He asked, a smile on his face.

"Nothing," I laughed again as I pushed myself up to do as he asked. "You just really are 'clearly' an ass man."

A look of realization crossed his face as he cringed slightly, his hand pausing from where he had reached down to stroke himself. I settled on my knees with my back to him as he answered.

"You heard about that?"

He was referring to the comments that he made on Anna Faris' podcast and I nodded my head.

"Everyone heard about that," I teased.

He chuckled, but didn't deny it as I leaned forward to rest on my hands. The wetness between my legs felt cool from the air in the room and I suddenly felt very exposed, knowing what the view must look like from his position. Again, my worries were brief though as his hands settled on my ass, kneading and squeezing as he let out a low groan.

"With an ass like this though, can you blame me?" He asked, sliding the fingers of one hand down towards the part of me that was practically throbbing with need. My head fell forward as he gently brushed over my clit before sinking two fingers inside me. It wasn't enough, not after the stretch of his cock, but he moved them with almost criminal precision against a spot that made me tense as I moaned with pleasure. "You've been drivin' me wild ever since that night we met. Those black jeans were so tight, it was like you were poured into 'em."

His words were muttered low and quiet and as much as I appreciated the compliment, I was such a puddle of mush from the movement of his fingers that I couldn't string together a sentence in response. He kept talking, whispering words of encouragement and adoration and it only added to my pleasure, but it wasn't until his thumb pressed against my clit that I felt myself start to bubble over. With a cry that I hoped served as a warning of my impending climax, I arched my back to press myself further towards him.

"Atta girl, Winnie..."

His breath was hot against the cheek of my ass and he continued his actions, placing a soft kiss on my skin. I was close, so close, but just not quite there until he did something that surprised me and sank his teeth into the spot his mouth was resting on. It wasn't enough to break the skin, but it was enough to leave a mark and it was definitely enough to send me over the edge. Moaning out his name again as I pressed back towards him, I felt myself quivering around his fingers as the pleasure tore through my body.

My elbows were quaking with effort as they tried to hold me up while he kept his fingers gently working until my orgasm came to an end. I wasn't sure how much more I could take, but I knew I wanted him inside me again so I shot him a look over my shoulder.

"Chris," I panted. "Fuck me, please."

His eyes darkened at my request, but he wasted no time, quickly shifting until he was positioned behind me and sliding himself back inside. He felt even bigger in our new position and his need was made clear as his hands settled on my hips to use them as leverage, thrusting into me at a much more frantic pace than he had before.

The stretch and feel of him deep inside me had me moaning and arching my back once again, but I was doubtful that I would reach another peak - until Chris slid one of his hands from my hip, over my stomach and back down to my clit. The sensation combined with his movements and all the noises pouring from his mouth had a tightness in my stomach forming again with shocking speed. It was just shy of overwhelming as my two previous orgasms had left me feeling rather sensitive already, but when Chris picked up the pace even more, his grunts and groans getting more desperate, I leaned into the sensation. It only took a minute or two more before he finally pressed himself deep inside me, stilling as he let out a low moan and I followed him over the edge once more.

After a few final thrusts through his release, Chris leaned forward to press his chest against my back. I could feel how hard he was breathing and soaked in the moment of bliss until my arms finally gave out underneath me. We landed in a heap face down on the bed, but Chris quickly rolled off of me before pulling me tight against his side.

"Wow," he breathed out. "Winnie, that was...wow."

I smiled as I rested my head on his chest.

"It was," I agreed. "I take back any doubts about your abilities."

He chuckled and placed a soft kiss on the top of my head.

"Thanks," he smiled as I peered up at him until he let a yawn slip out. "Mind if I stay here tonight?"

His question made my own smile widen even more.

"Of course not!"

He breathed out a sigh of relief at my words as I felt a wave of reassurance myself. He wanted to stay. He wasn't about to rush out the door the moment we were done and I filed that information away as more evidence that we were on the same page.

I felt like I should get up - to use the bathroom and offer my guest some water - but our activities had my whole body feeling like jelly. I was vaguely aware of a mumbled 'goodnight' from Chris, but I found myself drifting off to sleep before I could even respond.

The next morning as I slowly woke up, it took me a moment to remember why I was naked and why there was a pleasant, but very noticeable ache between my thighs. As the memory came back to me, a smile slid onto my face, but when I rolled over to find the bed empty, a flicker of worry sparked in the pit of my stomach. Especially when a glance at the clock told me that it was only seven in the morning. We couldn't have fallen asleep much before one so there was no good reason for him to be out of bed already.

I called out his name, hopeful that he would respond, but I wasn't entirely surprised when he didn't. The dread I was feeling intensified at the silence around me and I dragged myself out of bed with the intention of checking if he was in the bathroom or perhaps back out on the balcony. However, the sight of what was on the floor, or more accurately what wasn’t on the floor, made me pause. My dress and panties were laying where they'd been tossed, but his clothes were no where to be seen.

Trying to keep a level head, I quickly pulled on the oversized shirt that I usually slept in and ventured out of my bedroom, but my fears were quickly confirmed. My apartment was empty.

At first, I gave him the benefit of the doubt as I desperately tried to rationalize his disappearance. Maybe he woke up early and went out to get us breakfast and coffee? The dull throbbing in my head told me that I could certainly use a good shot of caffeine and it was a pretty safe bet that he was feeling the same. But, when he didn't return after half an hour, I assumed that theory was just an optimistic wish.

After forty-five minutes of sitting on my couch, watching the door - willing it to open and for Chris to appear - I sent him a text. I tried to keep it low key and chill, but after another hour of staring at my phone, the words "Hey, where'd you go?" started to seem more and more desperate.

By ten o'clock with no response and no sign of Chris returning, I accepted the situation for what it was.

He wasn't coming back.

It was a drunken mistake that he clearly regretted.

We'd risked our entire relationship for one night of wonderful, incredible, but meaningless sex and he didn't even have the guts to stick around long enough to talk to me about it.

One stupid night and I'd lost one of my best friends.

The thought brought tears to my eyes and, before I could stop myself, I was blubbering like a baby as I curled up on my couch. I was devastated and heartbroken. I'd let myself believe that maybe he wanted me the same way that I wanted him because we were so close and I never would have imagined that he would let it go that far just to ditch me in the morning without even a goodbye. Surely, after a year of such strong friendship, I deserved more than that.

But no matter how stupid and naive I felt in that moment, nothing would compare to the level of utter foolishness I felt later that day when I was tiding up and realized that there wasn't a condom in sight.

Part Two

Tags: @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fic #chris evans one shot #once bitten/more hearts

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novamirmirsblog · 3 years

Text

I am not a woman, I'm a God (17+)

If I can't have love I want power pt 2

If I can't have love masterlist

Word Count: 1640

Genre: dark I guess?

Request: no

Warnings: none? (atm anyways)

A/N: I'm not too happy with this chapter so it's subject to change BUT the next couple chapters should pick things up a little :3 OH and the next chapter might contain smut (Idk yet - I'll try to edit this when I've written the next chapter)

1737 - The middle

The revenge was sweet and drawn out. The redhead and her long-time friend had made sure of that. They let you finish the duke off but not before they had their fun. The two women were gorgeous, both with red hair that would make any woman jealous. The green-eyed woman had hair like a wildfire and the blue-eyed woman had hair the colour of a deep red sunset. Liking women was wrong but you weren’t sure these two counted as women – they certainly weren’t human. Wanda, the one with sunset hair, tortured your husband mentally, angry whisps the same colour as Natasha’s hair crawled in through his ears and buried themselves deep within his brain. While this was happening, Natasha was peeling layer after layer of skin off him with her razor-sharp nails. You weren’t sure if you could even call them nails – not when they looked so much more like claws. While Wanda was exploiting your husband’s deepest darkest fears, Natasha was calmly explaining to you which tools to use where so you could cause the most pain. Apparently pain and torture was an aphrodisiac for them because the two demons decided to show you what you had been missing out on due to your husband’s lack of skill.

That was almost 200 years ago. Wanda and Natasha had given you great gifts, allowing you to have a much longer life, giving you cat-like reflexes and godlike powers. Perhaps your favourite was the enhancements they gave to your voice. People were suddenly compelled to do whatever you suggested they do and the rush it gave you was unexplainable. These gifts were not free however and yet the price was one you willingly paid repeatedly. Especially because it meant spending extra time with your two favourite demons. You were there to cause chaos and have fun which was ironic considering Wanda was a chaos demon and Natasha was a succubus but perhaps that��s why you did what you did. Perhaps it was because you were made by them and therefore must serve them in every way imaginable.

~~~~~

You had watched your siblings grow from afar and made sure every single villager who ever even looked at them wrong suffered. When you were with Wanda and Natasha, it felt as if everything just fit into place. It was strange and you felt as if you shouldn’t miss them – they killed and tortured your husband in front of you, gave you gifts that meant you couldn’t live a normal life and coerced you into sex that you weren’t sure you wanted; yet you still wanted them.

Your story was told countless times and the more times it was told, the deeper the truth was twisted into a legend, a tale mothers told their children to keep them away from the forests late at night. You were turned into a martyr, a victim of the horrible cruelties the evil creatures of the world could bestow onto innocent girls.

You were anything but.

If the storytellers could see you now, they would burn all mentions of your story. You were a problem child, a bad example and you had two of the most powerful demons wrapped around your little finger.

A few years ago, you had mentioned to Natasha and Wanda one evening that you were bored. That’s how you found yourself currently being shot at.

“Natty I’m bored.” You whined, throwing yourself dramatically over the bed. History was going through a dry spell; people weren’t doing anything interesting and there weren’t enough opportunities for you to wreak havoc.

“Natty” Wanda mocked “Our princess is bored.”

“Well, we can’t have that now, can we?” Natasha moved to hover over you, Wanda placed your head in her lap. Natasha’s tail flicked with a cat-like manner before it slithered between your legs.

You grabbed her tail and she let out a moan “Not now Natasha. I’m serious. If I knew living forever was going to be this boring, then I wouldn’t have done it.” That wasn’t quite true, you enjoyed being theirs to use but you were getting restless.

Natasha rolled her eyes, leaning up to kiss Wanda instead. You waited a few moments for the two demons to stop their make-out session, but it didn’t look to be ending any time soon. You rolled out from underneath Natasha and untangled Wanda’s fingers from where she was massaging your scalp.

“Awe come back baby.” Wanda broke the kiss and made grabby arms at you. For a supposed demon, she sure was soft. “I promise we’ll make things more fun.”

Natasha rolled her eyes again “You’ve gone soft Wands.” Although Natasha huffed and puffed about how ‘soft’ Wanda had gotten, she seemed to have a slightly less hardened heart when she looked at you.

You were no longer bored but you were being shot at and while it couldn’t kill you, it sure did sting. Perhaps going after Dick Turpin’s loot was a bad idea but what can you say? You wanted to live a little. All you had wanted was a pretty horse you had seen him steal but nooo – he had to keep them all for himself. You had managed to escape Mr Turpin himself but one of his lackeys just wouldn’t give up. Rather than continuing to run, you decided you may as well get a quick meal.

“Hello darling.” Your voice echoed from all around, you watched as the man trying to kill you frantically whipped his head around.

“Who are you? Come out now!”

You let out a low, predatory chuckle.

“I’m the poor little martyr in all your stories.”

“No. You can’t be- that’s impossible! You should be dead!” You watched as the man continued to spin around and around in circles, watching him trip before revealing yourself.

“I am ancient. I have seen empires rise and fall. I have seen kings and queens and holy men enter the world and I have seen them leave; and yet I am nowhere near as old or as powerful as the women who made me the person I am today. While I watched preestablished civilisations crumble, they were reminiscing the time they created them, all while burning them to the ground. Some call me the end but they are mistaken. They are the end. I am your warning. I am the only kindness they will show you. Trivial things such as death do not concern me.” As you finished your speech, Natasha and Wanda’s comforting aura surrounded you, the dark mist embracing you before forming the two women.

“Couldn’t let you have all the fun now could we dove?” Natasha’s voice rumbled out against your neck, biting it lightly.

“You have to share.” Wanda cooed, lifting your chin up to face her as she captured your lips with hers.

The idiot who you were about to kill and feed on decided now was a good time to make their escape. Luckily, Wanda had other plans as her red magic bought the squirming meal back to you.

“Go away. I want to eat. It’s been so long.” You pouted, making your way back to your meal. It was a little annoying that to continue living in your young body that you had to drain the soul from another person, but it was worth it.

“But if we leave then who’s going to do all the heavy lifting?”

“And who will dig the hole in your garden?”

“Or put the body in the hole?”

“Or-”

“Okay! I get it. Fine. But just hush, okay? I like to eat in peace.” You grabbed the man and kissed him hard, feeling his soul merge with yours before it was consumed by the darkness.

“I don’t know why you always have to kiss them to feed” Natasha bit out, moving away from you with Wanda, voicing her unhappiness at you kissing someone else when only she should be kissing you- her and maybe Wanda.

“Well, it wasn’t me who made her feed that way.” Wanda whispered back

“Are you suggesting this is my fault?” Natasha’s voice got low and dangerous, and you felt the forest drop about 10 degrees.

“Well that’s how you feed isn’t it?” Wanda’s eyes glowed and a wind picked up.

You pulled away from your meal, the faint glow of his soul swirling around your mouth and eyes. “Want to share?” The forest rose back to its original temperature and climate as Natasha kissed you, absorbing small remnants of the soul. Wanda wrapped one arm around your waist while the other snaked up to your neck, her teeth lightly biting and sucking along your shoulders.

“I think you forget dove” Natasha broke the kiss to growl at you

“We’re in charge here. If we wanted to share, then we would share.” Wanda finished off for her.

It dawned on you that perhaps this was about more than just the meal. They were jealous.

“Are you two jealous?” You laughed, not at the situation but at their reactions. Wanda bit you harder and Natasha just glared at you.

“Of course not. Why would we be jealous of some silly insignificant dum-”

“Baby…” You reached up and placed one hand lightly on Wanda’s horn and the other on Natasha’s cheek, effectively stopping Natasha’s rant about how unjealous they are. Wanda moved from where she was standing behind you to stand next to Natasha. “You both know that if I could live off Demon energy then I would, but I can’t.”

Natasha and Wanda shared a look, having a silent conversation in the space of seconds before turning their attention back to you. “That’s not necessarily true love.” Wanda said.

“It will be painful but…well demons aren’t born. They’re made.” Natasha explained.

“And if you wanted to…”

You didn’t even hesitate before giving your answer. “Yes.”

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In her unauthorized book, Lynette Rice explores the stories behind some of the ABC drama's biggest moments, including — in this exclusive excerpt — the factors that led to McDreamy's shocking death.

In How to Save a Life: The Inside Story of Grey’s Anatomy, author Lynette Rice recounts the ABC medical drama’s eventful 16-year history, revealing new details behind some of the show’s biggest departures. Included in the unauthorized, 320-page oral history (St. Martin’s Press, Sept. 21, $29.99) is a chapter that offers new insight into leading man Patrick Dempsey’s shocking exit in season 11 of the Shonda Rhimes-created drama. In the chapter, Rice speaks with Dempsey’s co-stars and exec producers who were present during filming of his final days on Grey’s Anatomy, and reveals claims of “HR issues” that contributed to the death of his alter-ego, Derek “McDreamy” Shepherd.

“There were HR issues. It wasn’t sexual in any way. He sort of was terrorizing the set. Some cast members had all sorts of PTSD with him,” recalls exec producer James D. Parriott, who was brought back to the series to oversee Dempsey’s exit.

In more than 80 interviews with current and former cast- and crewmembers, Rice, an editor-at-large at Entertainment Weekly, also explores the show’s early days, recounts the thinking behind some of its more polarizing storylines and offers exclusive details about the show’s behind-the-scenes culture.

“After 17 seasons, fans still can’t get enough of Grey’s Anatomy,” Rice tells THR. But what went down behind the scenes was just as dramatic as what viewers saw every Thursday. I’m excited for fans to read what I learned about those early days, along with what it was like to work for Shonda Rhimes, and why the drama was so freakin’ headline-prone.”

Below, The Hollywood Reporter shares an excerpt — the full eighth chapter — from How to Save a Life, and tune in Friday to TV’s Top 5 for an interview with Rice about her book and the other big reveals she uncovered in her reporting for it.

(Reps for ABC, ABC Signature, Shondaland, and Dempsey declined comment on the reveals in Rice’s book.)

“He’s Very Dreamy, but He’s Not the Sun,” Or, How Grey’s Anatomy Loved — Then Learned to Live Without — Patrick Dempsey Ellen Pompeo may have played the titular role, but for many fans over many years, Patrick Dempsey was the real draw to Grey’s Anatomy. Some of it had to do with his celebrity: Dempsey was the most famous member of the original cast at the time of the pilot and brought with him quite a cult following from his 1987 movie Can’t Buy Me Love. But a lot of it was due to the way Rhimes wrote her McDreamy and how Dempsey depicted him. James D. Parriott I would say, “The guy would never say that,” and Shonda would say, “He’s McDreamy. He’s the perfect man. He would say that.” I’d say, “Okay. It’s your show.” Eric Buchman Shonda had a very clear idea of how important it was to keep Derek as this almost idealized love interest, not just for Meredith but for the audience. Naturally, the writers—especially writers who had been working on one-hour dramas for a while—were like, “Well, maybe have McDreamy make a big mistake in surgery and kill somebody. Or he develops an addiction of some kind. What is his deep, dark secret?” Shonda was very insistent: that’s not the character we do that with. Even when you find out he’s married, that was done in a very sympathetic way that kept him being a hero. He was wronged by his spouse and in spite of it all he was still gonna give his marriage a second chance. Stacy McKee Shonda was protective of McDreamy, but it was really with an eye toward being protective of Meredith. I don’t think the two were separate from one another. I don’t think she wanted to put something out there that maybe on the surface might seem a little frivolous. At its core, there was something really substantial that she wanted to say. She wanted to be very specific about the type of relationship values that she put out there. Tony Phelan I was in editing with Shonda once, and it was the scene where Meredith and Derek had broken up. He comes over and she’s like, “I can’t remember the last time we kissed.” And he says, “I remember. You were wearing this and you smelled of this …”

Joan Rater “Your shampoo smelled like flowers, you had that sweater on …” He described their last kiss. Tony Phelan Typically in editing you start on Derek, then you cut to Meredith for a reaction, and then you’ll go back to him. I noticed that we weren’t ever cutting back to Meredith. I asked why. Shonda said, “Because the woman in Iowa who’s watching this show wants to believe that Patrick is talking to her, and if you cut back to Meredith, it pushes them out of it.” In those special moments, we would just lock into Derek and let him do his thing. Joan Rater And he was a master at it. Patrick Dempsey He’s the ideal man, and that’s what Shonda constructed. There’s a projection [of him] onto me when you come in contact with fans, certainly with the younger and older fans. There is a certain amount of expectation. There is a responsibility to it. It made me grow, too. There were good qualities [of his] that you work on to obtain. Off camera, Dempsey was equally as charismatic to his fellow actors, crew members, and anyone who would come to visit the set. Lauren Stamile I was going in to meet him, and I remember I had this little cardigan sweater on and I took it off before I got into the room. Dempsey is one of those people—it’s almost like there’s a light shining around his body, and you feel like you’re the only person in the room. I got so hot and I remember saying, “Gosh, I would take off my sweater if I had one on because I’m so hot, but I took it off.” I was just babbling. He said, “You look nice,” and I said, “You look nicer.” I felt so awkward and he was so gracious and lovely. I was having a nervous breakdown. It’s like this “it” factor. I was like, God, whatever he has, I wish I had. I think it was very obvious how nervous I was, and he went out of his way to make sure he introduced me to everybody and made sure I felt comfortable, which he certainly didn’t have to do. But he did. Joan Rater He knew I had a giant crush on him, and he loved it. And when we’d go to table reads—I was an actress at one point in my life—they would always give me Meredith if Ellen wasn’t there. And I’d be getting my chicken tenders at craft services before the table read and he’d come up behind me and say, “Are you reading Meredith?” in my ear, like, so sexy. I’d be like, Oh my God. I mean, I could barely … I could not look at him. Tina Majorino I worked with Patrick a ton. I love him so much. We had a really great time working together. I think he’s such a great actor and he really made me laugh a lot. I feel like we had a good dynamic in scenes together, and it was always fun to play opposite him. Yes, he’s that charismatic in real life. Yes, his hair is that awesome. Yes, he is dreamy up close.

Chandra Wilson Patrick Dempsey will forever be known as Grey’s Anatomy’s McDreamy. Derek Shepherd is a permanent part of television history.

Norman Leavitt He is a big, personable guy.

Jeannine Renshaw We all love Patrick. Patrick is a sweetheart. If I saw him on the street, I’d give him a hug. I love the guy.

Mark Wilding I’ve always had a soft spot for Patrick. He really does try to do the right thing. Brooke Smith, who played Dr. Erica Hahn, remembers how Dempsey defended her when the decision was made to fire her from the show in 2008. Brooke Smith I remember calling him and saying, “Oh my God, they said they can’t write for me anymore, so I guess I’m leaving.” And he was like, “What are you talking about? You’re the only one they’re writing for.” Which at that time, it kind of did feel that way. But I guess someone didn’t like that. They gave me a statement [to release, about her departure] and I never said it. Patrick said that he actually took it out of his jacket on The Ellen DeGeneres Show and read the statement. He won’t let me forget it. He was like, “I defended you, see?” And it was true.

By season eleven, however, fans saw a disturbing break in MerDer’s once unbreakable bond. Six episodes had gone by without a peep from Derek, who was supposedly in Washington, D.C., where he had apparently made out with a research fellow. Fans began threatening to bolt if their hero didn’t return soon to Seattle. “I have never missed one episode,” wrote a fan on Dempsey’s Facebook page. “But I swear if [Rhimes] kills you off I’m done.” But there was a critical reason for Derek’s strange absence: behind the scenes, there was talk of Dempsey’s diva-like fits and tension between him and Pompeo. To help manage the explosive situation, executive producer James D. Parriott was brought back in to serve as a veritable Dempsey whisperer.

Patrick Dempsey [That] was the first year that I haven’t been in every episode. I [was] in every episode since the pilot— close to 250 episodes. That [was a] huge run. James D. Parriott Shonda needed an OG to come in as sort of a showrunner for fourteen episodes. There were HR issues. It wasn’t sexual in any way. He sort of was terrorizing the set. Some cast members had all sorts of PTSD with him. He had this hold on the set where he knew he could stop production and scare people. The network and studio came down and we had sessions with them. I think he was just done with the show. He didn’t like the inconvenience of coming in every day and working. He and Shonda were at each other’s throats.

Jeannine Renshaw There were times where Ellen was frustrated with Patrick and she would get angry that he wasn’t working as much. She was very big on having things be fair. She just didn’t like that Patrick would complain that “I’m here too late” or “I’ve been here too long” when she had twice as many scenes in the episode as he did. When I brought it up to Patrick, I would say, “Look around you. These people have been here since six thirty a.m.” He would go, “Oh, yeah.” He would get it. It’s just that actors tend to see things from their own perspective. He’s like a kid. He’s so high energy and would go, “What’s happening next?” He literally goes out of his skin, sitting and waiting. He wants to be out driving his race car or doing something fun. He’s the kid in class who wants to go to recess.

Patrick Dempsey It’s ten months, fifteen hours a day. You never know your schedule, so your kid asks you, “What are you doing on Monday?” And you go, “I don’t know,” because I don’t know my schedule. Doing that for eleven years is challenging. But you have to be grateful, because you’re well compensated, so you can’t really complain because you don’t really have a right. You don’t have control over your schedule. So, you have to just be flexible.

Longtime Crew Member Poor Patrick. I’m not defending his schtick. I like him, but he was the Lone Ranger. All of these actresses were getting all this power. All the rogue actresses would go running to Shonda and say, “Hey, Patrick’s doing this. Patrick’s late for work. He’s a nightmare.” He was just shut out in the cold. His behavior wasn’t the greatest, but he had nowhere to go. He was so miserable. He had no one to talk to. When Sandra left, I remember him telling me, “I should’ve left then, but I stayed on because they showed me all this money. They just were dumping money on me.”

Patrick Dempsey It [was] hard to say no to that kind of money. How do you say no to that? It’s remarkable to be a working actor, and then on top of that to be on a show that’s visible. And then on top of that to be on a phenomenal show that’s known around the world, and play a character who is beloved around the world. It’s very heady. It [was] a lot to process, and not wanting to let that go, because you never know whether you will work again and have success again.

Jeannine Renshaw A lot of the complaining … I think Shonda finally witnessed it herself, and that was the final straw. Shonda had to say to the network, “If he doesn’t go, I go.” Nobody wanted him to leave, because he was the show. Him and Ellen. Patrick is a sweetheart. It messes you up, this business.

James D. Parriott I vaguely recall something like that, but I can’t be sure. It would have happened right toward the end, because I know they were negotiating and negotiating, trying to figure out what to do. We had three different scenarios that we actually had to break because we didn’t know until I think about three days before he came back to set which one we were going to go with. We didn’t know if he was going to be able to negotiate his way out of it. We had a whole story line where we were going to keep him in Washington, D.C., so we could separate him from the rest of the show. He would not have to work with Ellen again. Then we had the one where he comes back, doesn’t die, and we figure out what Derek’s relationship with Meredith would be. Then there was the one we did. It was kind of crazy. We didn’t know if he was going to be able to negotiate his way out of it. It was ultimately decided that just bringing him back was going to be too hard on the other actors. The studio just said it was going to be more trouble than it was worth and decided to move on.

Stacy McKee I don’t think there was any way to exit him without him dying. He and Meredith were such an incredibly bonded couple at that point. It would be completely out of character if he left his kids. There was no exit that would honor that character other than if he were to die. Patrick Dempsey I don’t remember the date [I got the news]. It was not in the fall. Maybe February or March. It was just a natural progression. And the way everything was unfolding in a very organic way, it was like, “Okay! This is obviously the right time.” Things happened very quickly. We were like, “Oh, this is where it’s going to go.”

So that was that: McDreamy would die in episode twenty-one of season eleven, even though Dempsey was in year one of his recently signed two-year contract extension. Rhimes wrote a script that was befitting of her lead’s heroic persona: she began “How to Save a Life” by having Derek witness a car crash and helping the injured. Once it appeared everyone was out of harm’s way, Derek continues on his road trip but is suddenly broadsided by a truck.

Rob Hardy (Director) The paramedics leave. He’s there by himself. He’s having a moment. The nice music is playing, and all of a sudden, bang. It comes out of nowhere, which, you know, is how accidents happen. So as opposed to watching it as a viewer, we saw the accident happen through Derek’s perspective. Derek ends up at Dillard Medical Center, a hospital far from Grey Sloan and the talented doctors who work there. His eyes are open, but his brain is severely damaged. No one hears his plea for a CT scan; he can’t speak. To help keep the episode a secret, the scenes were shot in an abandoned hospital in Hawthorne, California, about twenty-two miles from the show’s home studio in Los Feliz.

Mimi Melgaard It was really hard on all of us because it was so secretive and we had so many different locations. We shot at this closed-down hospital that was absolutely creepy haunted. All the scenes there were so sad anyway, and in this yucky-feeling haunted hospital? It was really weird. His whole last episode was really tough. Patrick Dempsey It was like any other day. It was just another workday. There was still too much going on. You’re in the midst of it—you’re not really processing it. Rob Hardy Here’s a guy who’s immobile. Now you’re inside of his head. We were trying to make that feel scary from the perspective of a person who’s used to being in control, from a person who usually has the power of life and death in his own hands. But now he doesn’t have the ability to speak on his own behalf.

Samantha Sloyan When I went to audition, I didn’t recognize any of these doctors’ names. I assumed they were just dummy sides so people wouldn’t ruin the story line or anything like that. All we knew is that we were dealing with a man who’s been in a car accident. I had no idea that it was going to be Derek. I just figured I was going to be a guest doctor and that whoever this person was who was injured, was going to be just a character on the show. Once it became clear what we were working on, I was like, Oh, my gosh. I can’t believe this is the episode I’m on.

Mike McColl (Dr. Paul Castello) I signed an NDA before they would release the script to me. I was reading it in my house, and I was like, “Oh, my God.” I didn’t tell anyone, including my agents. I just said, “This is a really great booking. It’s a great role on Grey’s.” And they didn’t know anything until it aired.

Savannah Paige Rae (Winnie) The first scene I shot was actually the sentimental scene when I’m saying, “It’s a beautiful day to save lives, right?” I’m in the hospital room with Derek and talking to him. Even though I never watched the show, I recognized the value of the episode I was in and just really took it to heart. It was so special that I got to be a part of it.

Rob Hardy [Patrick] had a lot of emotions during the whole shoot, which evolved. I think when we first started, he was very calm and cool … the same Patrick that I remembered when I worked on the show a year or so before. With each passing day, he was a lot more emotional. A lot more was on his mind, and that would show itself in different ways. The finality of the episode and for his character was setting in. You’ve become a global icon on this show and then in five, four, three, two, a day … it’s over.

James D. Parriott Patrick was very cooperative and good.

Mike McColl When I met Patrick, he’s lying on a stretcher and we’re rushing him into the ER. I just introduced myself, shook his hand, and was like, “Man, I cannot tell you what an honor it is to be the guy to take you down.” He loved it. He could not have been nicer to me and was funny through the whole shoot. He was on the table in front of me there when I cut his chest open and all that stuff. He gave me a hug at the end. It was a real privilege to be a part of TV history in that way.

Samantha Sloyan I remember him being incredibly kind. They had his neck in a brace, and he’s strapped down to the board, so there wasn’t a ton of chatting. I remember him being really kind, but it was clearly intense for him.

Stacy McKee It was such a beautiful piece of storytelling. I knew this event was going to be a really sad, horrible event for Meredith, but I also knew it was going to be the beginning of such an incredible chapter for Meredith.

Dempsey completed his final hours of shooting on a rainy night. There was no goodbye party, no goodbye cake. Maybe that’s because some cast members were left out of the loop. James Pickens, Jr., told ABC News that the cast “didn’t know a whole lot. It was kind of on the fly. So whatever information we got, we pretty much got it kind of right before it happened.”

Caterina Scorsone (Dr. Amelia Shepherd) I didn’t get to say goodbye to Patrick when he left. I do think that helped, because I’ve been using the character of Derek in my internal landscape since Private Practice. Derek was the stability in Amelia’s life. He became a father figure after they watched robbers shoot their father. When he was suddenly gone from the show, we didn’t have that closure, so I got to play it out. She’s about to use drugs again before Owen confronts her in a way that she finally talks about her feelings about losing Derek. She doesn’t end up using.

James D. Parriott The day he left, that was my last day. There was a certain sadness to it, but I think he was relieved. I mean, I think it took a toll on him, too.

Rob Hardy I didn’t see other actors showing up and saying, “Hey, it’s the last day! Wanted to come and wish you well.” I didn’t get that. It was more the Patrick show. We were in the Patrick world, and then Ellen came, and there was definitely a lot of emotion that both of them had individually … not necessarily together. It was more so her being there on the day that he died. He had his own way of being with that, and the same thing with her. It was like two people who grew up together and … here we are. They had their own way of reflecting.

Patrick Dempsey I very quietly left. It was beautiful. It was raining, which was really touching. I got in my Panamera, got in rush-hour traffic, and two hours later I was home. Big news like this doesn’t stay quiet for long. Both Michael Ausiello—who left EW in 2010 to launch the news site TVLine—and Lesley Goldberg of The Hollywood Reporter learned two weeks prior to Dempsey’s final episode that he would be leaving the show. No reporter worth their salt wants to sit on a scoop—least of all one as huge as this—but Ausiello and Goldberg didn’t want to spoil the outcome for fans, so they agreed to hold the story until after the episode aired. I eventually found out, too, but in the nuttiest way imaginable: I was standing on the set of CSI: Cyber, watching Patricia Arquette talk about some droll techno-criminal. Unfortunately, the publicist also cc’d Dempsey’s manager and ABC publicist while trying to give me a major story, so I couldn’t immediately report the scoop. But I did use the information to successfully negotiate the one and only exit interview with Dempsey. Two weeks before his final episode, I met him and his publicist at Feed Body & Soul in Venice, California, for a story that would hit newsstands on April 24. He seemed a little shell-shocked and at one point choked up, but at the time he said nothing about how his on-set behavior may have contributed to his ouster. My editor, Henry Goldblatt, wanted to put him on the cover of Entertainment Weekly, but he couldn’t guarantee to ABC that no one would see it before the episode aired. Good thing we didn’t: some subscribers got the issue on the morning of Dempsey’s final episode— and one actually tweeted the story. Our PR department tried to get the tweets removed, but the cat was out of the bag: some fans found out early that McDreamy was about to be McHistory. Outlets like Variety reported how the story got out early, while our PR department released this statement: “We are surprised that an EW subscriber may have received their issue a day earlier than planned. We always try our best to bring readers exclusive news first. We would like to apologize to fans of the show that learned the news ahead of time.” Dempsey’s final episode was watched by 8.83 million viewers—the show’s largest audience since the premiere that season. Variety even pontificated whether the ratings boost was due to my exclusive with Dempsey.

Lesley Goldberg (The Hollywood Reporter) I’m used to working with networks to hold news as part of their efforts to guard against plot spoilers. But the way Patrick Dempsey’s exit was handled involved a layer of paranoia and secrecy that has been unlike anything I’ve seen in my reporting career. News that he was leaving, and his character being killed off, would have been a major story considering how big the show is domestically and internationally. However, it also would have meant spoiling the episode and, more important, damaging key relationships I’ve worked hard to build. At some point, publishing the news of Dempsey’s exit before the episode aired became an ethical question of what was more important—a big story and its subsequent traffic, which would have come no matter what, or the relationships and trust that it took years to craft. Ultimately, I still published early because EW subscribers received the issue with Lynette’s Dempsey interview before the episode aired.

Mike McColl The morning after Derek’s last episode aired, my daughter sent me a link that was on YouTube or Facebook or something. I actually pulled it up to look at it, and it was a Grey’s Anatomy showbiz cheat sheet. It asked the question “Who is the attending doctor who killed Derek ‘McDreamy’ Shepherd?” It included a photo that I posted from the set. I had on a bloody rubber glove and was in my scrubs and mask. I never obviously would have posted this before it aired. I posted it well after the episode aired, and I [captioned it] “McDeadly.” This writer said something like, “Kill McDeadly.” Maybe that’s why the producer didn’t choose a big-name actor to be the one who killed our beloved McDreamy! I want to be ultrasensitive to these hard-core fans because it means so much to them, and I certainly didn’t mean in that case to make light of it. It’s just, I’m an actor, and I recognize it for what it is. Is everybody clear on the fact that this is just pretend and Patrick knew he was going to be leaving the show? It was just like, “God. He’s okay. He really is okay.”

Peter Horton Derek was going to be there forever with Meredith because you went through a whole journey with them. That was incredibly fulfilling. So even if he’s not there, he’s there. I don’t think any of us really worried about that going away because by then you were so invested in it. The show can last as it has for years.

Patrick Dempsey Lots of people [miss him]. “It’s good to see you alive” is the comment I get. I’m like, “Yes, I’m very much alive in reruns.” People were really invested in that relationship. I knew it would be heavy. Very happy to have moved on with a different chapter in my life.

Samantha Sloyan The montage just killed me, when Meredith says, “It’s okay, you can go.” God, I’m getting choked up just thinking about it. The chemistry they have as a pair and the way they were able to build that and sustain it! So many of these relationships are, like, “Will they, won’t they,” and then it wears thin. They sustained it for the duration of their relationship on the show, and it’s just, I think, a testament to what those two created. It was just unbelievable.

Pompeo addressed Dempsey’s departure with a tweet that focused solely on his character, not on how she spent eleven years working side by side with him: “There are so many people out there who have suffered tremendous loss and tragedy. Husbands and wives of soldiers, victims of senseless violence, and parents who have lost children. People who get up every day and do what feels like is the impossible. So it is for these people and in the spirit of resilance [sic] I am honored and excited to tell the story of how Meredith goes on in the face of what feels like the impossible.” Meanwhile, fans futilely created a Change.org petition to reinstate McDempsey, while other, more desperate ones simply tweeted “We Hate You” to Rhimes.

Shonda Rhimes Derek Shepherd is and will always be an incredibly important character—for Meredith, for me, and for the fans. I absolutely never imagined saying goodbye to our McDreamy. Patrick Dempsey’s performance shaped Derek in a way that I know we both hope became a meaningful example— happy, sad, romantic, painful, and always true—of what young women should demand from modern love. His loss will be felt by all.

Talk about the mother (father?) of all postscripts: In November of 2020 Dempsey reprised his role as McDreamy in the season opener—but only in Meredith’s dreams. Stricken with COVID-19, an unconscious Meredith “imagined” reuniting with her husband on the beach. After talking exclusively to Deadline and saying how it was “really a very healing process, and really rewarding,” Dempsey would return for more beach-based episodes that would ultimately stand out as the best moments of season seventeen. “It was a second chance thing,” one ABC executive told me at the time. “Shonda likes a comeback. Also, they wanted him in their last season.”

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