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solomonish · 4 years ago

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Growing Pains (Lucifer & Mammon)

At first, Lucifer thought that to fall with those he loved more dearly than anyone was the final blessing the Celestial Realm would bestow upon him.

But Father did not intend to stop after taking Lilith from them. He just took her first - the brothers still had themselves and each other to lose.

ao3 link: here!

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The office in the manor was slowly becoming more and more cluttered as Lucifer continued to drag stacks of paperwork and countless manuals on Devildom culture into the house when he returned from his meetings with Diavolo. The business he had been tasked to sort out for the rest of his existence needed to be started on right away, leaving Lucifer tied up with an amount of work fitting for the place he now had to learn to call home. Instead of navigating the new life with his brothers, he had to spend his time navigating the halls of the palace or bent over an old wooden desk. The impressive castle doors now instinctively sent a pit into his stomach and finding the Royal Butler Barbatos waiting for him to lead him so he wouldn't lose himself in the halls hurt Lucifer in a weird, bruising way he had never felt before.

By the time he got home, the house was normally quiet. It scared him, at first: after spending so long in battle, silence could only mean something bad. During the first days, he found his brothers huddled up in the same spot, unwilling to be alone. Beel and Belphie would be curled around each other in some way, inseparable as they had always been. Mammon could be found sprawled over the carpet,, one hand gripping Satan's ankle or wrist as if that'd be enough to stop one of his rampages. Perhaps it was; from what Lucifer heard, every day he was getting better, learning more. Mammon wasn't the only one gripping him; Asmodeus was often cuddled next to Satan, clinging tightly to his arm or sometimes even to him. He was getting awfully affectionate lately, but maybe it was doing Satan some good. Only Levi wasn't directly touching anyone, but even though his back was turned, his new tail would occasionally twitch and brush against one of his brothers.

These scenes gave Lucifer pause, the feeling he was learning to be pride swelling in his chest. Everything was alright. Mammon had kept things under control.

He left them alone, not wanting to disturb their peace, and continued his work, the task distracting his mind and the affection distracting his heart from the crippling grief that loomed above them all.

Eventually, though, the brothers disbanded. The quirks he had noticed growing in them soon became hallmarks of their new beings: Asmodeus' affections were becoming increasingly licentious, Belphegor could hardly be found awake regardless of the time, items turned up missing and wound up in Mammon’s possession...each of his brothers seemed to spiral further and further towards degeneracy, save for Satan, who was as sinful as it got and instead retreated into himself and forming a grudge against everyone for his status as what seemed like a half-baked replacement.

Ever the dependable brother - a thought that was now strangely accompanied by a twinge of something unpleasant instead of the warm, affectionate delight Lucifer was used to - Mammon still tried to keep everyone together.

At first, it seemed to work. Nobody seemed entirely willing or even purposely trying to avoid the others. However, it seemed that the sin they began to embody were too great an obstacle none of them knew how to hurdle. Any interruption infuriated Satan, and Asmo seemed offended at the concept of taking his own time away from himself to check in on his brothers. Beel and Belphie could never be taken away from easing the effects of their sins for long enough to hold a meaningful conversation, and Levi had already dug himself so deep in a self-deprecating hole he seemed convinced any efforts to connect were the beginning of an elaborate prank to make fun of him. When items turned up missing immediately after Mammon’s visits, doors started slamming if they even opened.

Still, his attempts to keep the camaraderie alive meant Lucifer had more time to spend on the paperwork. It was a good system - at least, that’s how he felt. Evidently, Mammon didn’t feel the same.

Normally, on the days where Mammon made a futile attempt at his rounds (days that were becoming more and more scarce throughout the week), Mammon passed by Lucifer’s door. This time, there was an angry knock on the door, more of an alert to Mammon’s presence than a request for permission. The door didn’t bang against the wall, but Mammon had twisted the doorknob rather ferociously and Lucifer almost flinched at the noise it made. Taken aback by his brother’s stormy entrance, he nearly watched him approach impassively. There hadn’t been any opportunity to discuss the proper, respectful way to enter his workspace - clearly, this needed to be remedied soon.

“What’re ya even doing in here?” Mammon bellowed, looking around. The shelves that had books in them were put together nicely, the sturdy wood packed with old books about a life they both used to find reprehensible. How cruel of their father to force them to live what He made them fear most.

“You can lower your voice,” Lucifer answered, dropping his pen on the desk. When he leaned back, ignoring the way his upper back twinged at the change from his previous slumped posture, he met Mammon’s eyes and was surprised to see genuine frustration behind them. “I’ve been working.”

A scoff had never sounded more irritating to Lucifer’s ears. “Is that what it is? Because to me, it seems like you’re avoiding us.”

Lucifer scrunched his eyebrows. “Where did you-”

“Is that it? What, we all lost so now we’re losers and you can’t stand to look at us?”

“I never-”

“Or you couldn’t fill the void left when you were thrown out as the world’s best lapdog, so you became Diavolo’s instead?”

“Stop right there, Mammon,” Lucifer commanded, standing from his seat. His voice had a steely chill to it that it never had before, one to match the resentment burning inside of him. Instinctively, Mammon backed off. They didn’t know much about their new predicament, but they knew how the seven of them ranked in power, and Lucifer would always come out on top. “I’m won’t concern myself with where you got these foolish thoughts from. Perhaps it would benefit you to spend less time with Levi-”

“Levi? How could you know if he even had anything to do with this? When’s the last time you saw him?” Mammon shot back. “Spending less time with anybody isn’t the answer to anything, though of course it’d be your answer to things.”

Lucifer sighed. “I’m working out the details of this situation so you don’t have to worry yourselves with it.”

Mammon didn’t have an immediate response to that, instead watching Lucifer with betrayed eyes. He seemed to deflate over time, a resignation falling over him that forced his fire out with a sigh. "We were a team, Lucifer. What the hell happened?"

There were obvious answers to that, and there were not so obvious answers. Faced with so many options, Lucifer found himself unable to choose between them, and instead stared blankly at Mammon. Slowly, Lucifer sat back in his seat without breaking eye contact.

We've been ripped away from everything and left to become scabs over the wounds we've been given. All I'm trying to do is give you the freedom to heal however you need to, to keep you from the chains that could have just as easily awaited us as this fate did.

I'm hiding from you a burden that is too heavy to pass on - if I move it from my shoulders, I fear my arms would be too weak to carry it to you.

There were so many ways to tell Mammon that Lucifer had to lock himself away, the door a heavy shield against his own grief and the ever-growing work that buried him and the secret he carried. Even if Lucifer didn’t trust his own mouth to only say what was necessary, he could just thank Mammon for his efforts, tell him that he trusted Mammon more than anybody to keep together the one thing that ought to stay intact after the holy hell they’d created. But something inside him bristled, swelling uncomfortably until he felt like a balloon ready to burst. Gulping down his thoughts, Lucifer resumed his writing, the pen scratching against the paper more ferociously than the claws of any creature by which they now found themselves surrounded.

"I don't need your help," Lucifer answered simply, with finality. Though the words rang true in his mind, they were leaden with the way they pulled on his heart and tasted like iron on his tongue.

Mammon scoffed again, narrowing his eyes so Lucifer wouldn't be able to notice the tears that began to gather within them. "Fine, then. I-I didn't wanna help ya out anymore anyway."

As Mammon stomped out the door of his office with a huff, Lucifer felt something snap inside him. It wasn't in the way pent up rage unleashed itself, apparently, somehow in the form of a sixth brother, but more in the way one holds on desperately to a branch too thin for the weight. Once it snaps, the plummet is rough, with stronger branches breaking up the fall and taunting tossing them around in a cruel ricochet. Outside of the thick wooden door, it was startlingly quiet, as if the house itself was forcing Lucifer to grapple with the final thread holding them together being cut with his own words.

The pain started in his chest, the way it always did, wrapping around his heart and lungs like thorny vines. The spot on his lower back, occasionally tickled by phantom feathers, throbbed as his entire brain seemed to weigh heavier in his head. After a near eternity surrounded by laughter and the beautiful, enchanting hum of Celestial life and a thundering of battle that would ring in his head for the rest of his existence, the silence seemed like a stifling blanket, the final lock on the cage they had been forced into.

When one opposed Father and lost, he truly did lose everything.

#MMMMMMMMMMM brothers #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me sw #swd obey me #lucifer #mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #lucifer angst #mammon angst #mine #swd lucifer #swd mammon #obey me fanfic

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l0vegl0wsinthedark · 4 years ago

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Draw Drarry Badly Challenge 2.0

IT’S BAAAAAAAACK!

First of all, as evidenced by the perfectly sassy banner made by our very own artistic savant @julcheninred, the revival of this was all her idea.

But I hopped on board readily enough cause...erm...2020? We need to grab any available opportunity to smile this year - and bloody hell, we need to give others a reason to smile too! *slams fist on table, spit flying*

LET’S DO THIS AGAIN! DO YOUR WORST - LITERALLY!

Here are the “rules” for those who weren’t around last time:

- Draw a piece of drarry art.

- Draw it as badly as possible.

- Post it and tag whoever else you like.

Don’t forget to #tag your post with ‘draw drarry badly challenge’ so people can find all our posts easily.

That’s it!

And remember, this is for everyone! You can (and must) tag actual artists too (it’s fun to watch them try not to draw as fuckin’ brilliantly as they usually do *evil laugh*) and you can even draw multiple pieces (think of all the tropes waiting to be brought to life...terribly)!

This is intended in a purely innocent and fun way and isn’t meant to hurt or offend anybody. ❤️

#draw drarry badly challenge #2.0!#it's back baby #*points accusatory finger at julchen*#i'm gonna post my...erm...art in a bit #it's so bad i'm really embarrassed *chokes*

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twistedtummies2 · 4 years ago

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Giants in the Sky - Part 1

As I promised, here - at long, long last - is a story based on “My Hero Academia!” This is actually an AU story I came up with, intending it as a trade with another person (who shall remain anonymous). That person found their schedule was way too busy, and as time went on, I decided it might be best to just give this AU a try myself. So here I am to do so! As I said, originally this was going to be a two-parter, but I decided to change it into two separate stories, and each story itself will be two parts...effectively making this a four-parter. (Get it? Got it. Good.) I’m going to begin work on the second story hopefully this week, but in the meantime, here’s the first tale. Part one goes up today, part two shall be up tomorrow. This first part is primarily exposition/plot-based; the “fun stuff” comes in the next half, and trust me, there’s PLENTY of it. >:)

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Once Upon a Time, in a Kingdom Far, Far Away… The Green Knight smiled, his armor shining like emeralds as he stepped out into the sunlight. He walked out with pride – a young man whose freckled face and wild, dark green hair belied his bravery and chivalry. He held his helmet under one arm, the other gripping his sword, as he stared down at the crowd of people below him. His heart swelled and he nearly felt like crying as he heard them all cheering his name…then came the voice of the King himself, echoing in his ears and making his pulses sing with joy. “All Hail Sir Midoriya of Shi-Tan! The Greatest Warrior in All of Ua! A True Hero!” The crowd cheered louder. The Green Knight closed his eyes and sighed, warmth fluttering in his heart. In truth, the adulation was just a bonus: as he heard the voices calling up his name, he knew he had helped them all. He had saved many lives by slaying the terrible Dragon of Belfast, and now they could sleep peacefully – be they peasant or nobleman – without fear of danger and destruction. Every single voice…every single life…they’d all be happy and secure. That was what truly mattered…but the recognition was nice. He felt…like he finally belonged. Like he was where he was always meant to be; where he’d wanted to be for his entire short, young life. So many years of struggle and toil…and now, here he was, his praises being sung across the empire. He whispered the words he’d heard to himself, dreamily, as he felt the warm Sun upon his youthful face: “A True Hero…” “OI! MIDORIYA!” “YAH!” Izuku Midoriya’s eyes jolted open and he jumped about a foot in the air. He gasped and panted, looking around himself in alarm, a glimmer of confusion in his wide, bright green eyes. The Castle and its courtyard had disappeared. He found himself in a wide, brown field; to one side of the field, not so far away, was the edge of the forest; just over the tops of the trees, he could see the distant, glittering, pearly shine of the Castle he’d been daydreaming about. To the other side was the farm where he worked. He looked down at himself, and sighed somewhat dismally; his beautiful green armor had been replaced with a peasant’s tunic of green, along with a dull red vest and matching shoes, his green trousers held in place by a white rope belt. Before him was the plough he had been working, pulled by a dull-eyed donkey, which swished its tail lazily as it looked back at him, serene patience in its half-lidded eyes. Midoriya smiled bashfully at the plough animal. “Sorry, Mineta,” he said to the donkey, scratching the back of his head. “I got distracted I guess…” “You do that too often.”

Midoriya blinked and froze. “…Did you just talk?” he asked the donkey. The donkey snorted, and then the voice came again… “No, you little fool. It was me. The one who pays you and gives you a home, remember?” WHAPP! Midoriya yelped and turned around as a light but firm swat bapped him upside the head. He timidly looked up and chuckled nervously at the figure who had smacked him. “Oh…uh…s-sorry, Mr. Aizawa.” Aizawa was a tall, thin man. His black hair was long and frequently unkempt, his unshaven face abnormally pale. Between these features and his seemingly permanently bloodshot eyes, Midoriya often worried the head farmer would flop over from lack of sleep. “What do you expect?” the farmer would say, when the youth addressed him about the issue. “I have to deal with you and that other rambunctious kid every day, ANYONE would lose sleep.” Aizawa frowned, and Midoriya flinched back; there was always such a dangerous, smoldering look in the older farmer’s eyes when he was irate…which was quite often. The irises could go from hollow and almost lifeless to sharp as daggers or hot as scorching flames in an instant. He wore dark clothes that were a little nicer than Midoriya’s, but not by much; with a grunt, he jabbed a thumb towards the cattle pen on the premises. “Kaminari’s having trouble with Milky White,” Aizawa grumbled. “One of you can finish ploughing later. Right now, put Mineta away and then go help him out.” Midoriya’s smile became less nervous, and he nodded respectfully. “Yes, sir,” he said, and set about undoing the plough and bringing Mineta with him by the halter to the barn where the donkey slept. Aizawa’s farm produced three things: a great abundance of poultry, with the chickens being sold to market at regular intervals, and of course the wheat in the fields…and milk. The milk all came from a single cow: an old heifer appropriately named Milky White. The name not only came from the cow’s appearance – with short, coarse hair of purest, snowy white all over her body, not a speckle of brown or black to be found beyond her huge, doe-like eyes – but for the product she put forth. Far and wide, across the Kingdom of Ua, the milk was considered to be the whitest dairy anybody had ever seen. It fetched quite a handsome price at market, far more than the chickens or the wheat ever did, and allowed the trio who dwelled on the farm to get by well enough. Midoriya had lived on the farm most of his life; he and Kaminari were orphans who had met on the streets and befriended each other. One day, many moons ago – the two were scarcely older than seven – Kaminari had suggested breaking into the home of the farmer who lived alone at the edge of the woods: Shota Aizawa. Midoriya had been hesitant, and to this day, Kaminari claimed it was his hesitant nature that got them caught (though Midoriya was fairly sure it was more likely how much noise Kaminari made while they were breaking in). Instead of turning them into the authorities – the Kingdom was not kind to thieves – Aizawa had decided the two would work on his farm for a while to “pay their debt.” That was how it had started…but after some time, the farm became like home, and the pair just…stayed there. Aizawa never seriously complained. The keyword being seriously. He ALWAYS complained. In the years he’d spent on the farm, Midoriya had developed a much closer relation to Milky White than Kaminari. After putting Mineta away, the young man with green hair trotted to the cattle pen; Milky White quietly grazed on a big trough full of barley. Beside her was a battered wooden stool, and seated on the stool was another young man – sharp-featured and with unusual, amber-colored eyes – his messy blonde hair swept away from his face. He was glaring and grinding his teeth with frustration, trying to squeeze milk out of the cow’s udders. “Rrrrgh…it’s no good!” he snapped as Midoriya stepped through the gate into the pen. He threw up his hands in defeat as he continued: “I can never get her to give me anything! It’s like she clams up!” Midoriya chuckled; his blonde friend pouted childishly. “You’re always either too rough or too gentle,” he said, patting Kaminari’s shoulder, then smiled helpfully. “Let me try: she should give me something.” Kaminari sighed and nodded in supplication, then got up from the milking stool. Midoriya sat down and gently stroked Milky White’s side. The cow let out a pleased moo, and he then began to try and milk the creature. However, after several tries, his smile faded. He was doing everything the way he always did, yet absolutely nothing was coming out. “Hey…what’s wrong, old girl?” he asked softly, patting the cow’s side. Milky White’s rather sleepy-looking eyes looked towards him and she blinked slowly. “Huh? You’re having trouble, too?” Kaminari asked, kneeling down; he’d been watching to try and figure out what he’d been doing wrong. The blonde frowned; Midoriya had NEVER failed to get milk before. “Yeah,” the green-haired boy nodded, and a worried expression crossed his face. “The past two weeks, she’s been giving less and less…maybe it’s something we’ve been feeding her?” “Impossible!” Kaminari insisted with a shake of his head. “We haven’t ever once changed her diet!” “Something wrong?” The two looked to see Aizawa leaning against the gate; he looked so tired, one swore the gate was all that was keeping him up. “She’s not milking,” Kaminari answered, gesturing to Milky White. Aizawa frowned, looking concerned and confused. He looked toward Midoriya…and tilted his head. The young man’s eyes were steadily moving between the udders and the bucket, an intense look of concentration on his face. His hand rubbed at his chin as he mumbled and muttered unintelligibly to himself. The head farmer and the blonde stable lad shared a look, then looked back to the other boy. “Oi,” Aizawa called out. “Izuku…kid, what do you think’s up?” Midoriya jumped and yelped, pulled out of thought again. He sighed with relief, and rubbed one arm. “Well…I-I was just thinking, Milky White is a pretty old cow,” he said slowly. A pause. “…And?” Kaminari pressed, while Aizawa narrowed his eyes. “Oh! Um…well…I hate to say it, but maybe she’s just gotten to an age, finally, where she…can’t give milk anymore,” he shrugged. “It would explain why it’s been harder to manage her and why we’ve been getting less and less.” Milky White let out another moo, looking offended at the implications she was so old. Midoriya smiled and patted her side reassuringly. “I think you may be right,” Aizawa nodded, and sighed wearily. “Well…in that case, there’s only one thing to do.” “Um…make apple strudel?” Both Midoriya and Aizawa stared a Kaminari, who was smiling a dopey, chipper smile. “…No,” Aizawa answered slowly, then paused before elaborating simply: “We have to sell the cow.” “Sell her?!” gasped Midoriya, while Milky White’s own eyes widened in surprise, and she let out another moo that sounded quite alarmed. “Do we…d-do we really HAVE to?” “Yes,” Aizawa responded bluntly. “I don’t have the money to keep a cow on the farm that doesn’t put anything out. At least if we sell her, we’ll be able to make some money off her one last time; hopefully enough to buy another cow.” “But their milk won’t be nearly as good as hers!” protested Midoriya. “Probably not, but if she’s not giving ANY milk, that doesn’t make much difference, does it?” Izuku felt that couldn’t easily be denied, and bit his lip. “Don’t we have any other options?” Kaminari asked, noting the conflict on his friend’s face. Aizawa raised an eyebrow. “Well, you could slaughter her yourselves, yeah.” The boys looked VERY ill, and Milky White was visibly shaking. “Yeeeeaaaah…I-I’mma pass on that,” shuddered Kaminari. “Then it’s settled,” Aizawa sniffed. “At least if she’s sold, she might be able to be a pet instead of someone’s dinner,” murmured Midoriya, rather sadly. Aizawa decided it wasn’t worth telling the rather forlorn-looking boy how unlikely that was. “Who’ll be in charge of giving her away?” Kaminari asked, while Midoriya petted the cow’s side gently. “I have some work I still need to do of my own,” Aizawa said, and pointed to Izuku. “Midoriya, you’ll take Milky White to market.” “M-Me?!” squeaked out Izuku, eyes wide. “Hey! Why not me?!” huffed Kaminari. “I haven’t been to market in ages!” “There’s a reason for that,” droned Aizawa, giving the blonde a withering stare. “The last time I sent you into town, I asked you to buy a dozen apples. You came back with two dozen pears.” “Hey, in my defense, they do taste sort of similar, AND you got more than-” “And the time before that,” Aizawa pressed on, “I sent you into town to buy some meat, and you came back with cheese! MOLDY cheese!” “I…well, um…uh…” “And the time before THAT,” Aizawa nearly growled, “I sent you to buy some milk…and you came back covered in lipstick marks, babbling about some cute blonde who traded your money for PERFUME.” Silence. Kaminari flushed, lowered his head, and kicked at the ground. “…She c-called me handsome…” Midoriya closed his eyes and shook his head, while Aizawa sighed and slapped a hand over his face. He mumbled something about being cursed into his palm, then looked back to Midoriya. “This will be your first time in the market, at least for my sake,” he said, somewhat warningly. “Please, DON’T make the same mistakes Kaminari has made.” “I won’t,” Midoriya promised, and stood up from the stool. “How soon do I leave?” “At once. Get the halter and I’ll tell you how much to ask for her, and give you further instructions…”

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“No less than five pounds, no less than five pounds…”

Izuku Midoriya – a red cap perched upon his head – muttered the mantra to himself over and over again under his breath, as he led Milky White along a crooked, broken road. The route to market passed through the forest that surrounded the farm. It had been a very long time since Midoriya had set foot on the road, and he idly wondered if anyone in town would recognize him in the least as one of the two waifs that had rambunctiously lived about the streets. Milky White let out a sad moo; Midoriya smiled kindly and paused to pat the bovine’s snout. “I know, old girl, but don’t worry,” he soothed. “I’ll make sure you get a good home, if I can. I promise.” He thought the cow smiled faintly, but he wasn’t sure. The boy continued on his path, carefully looking from left to right; he road he was taking had curves, but no forks or other paths. It was a more or less straight shot to the marketplace from here. He still had a long ways to go, however, and the forest seemed to grow denser around him, the branches of the trees twining together as their tops swayed slightly with the breeze. He had often thought the woods could be frightening, but in truth, the forest was very beautiful; the green leaves seemed to sparkle in the sunlight that shimmered between them, and he could hear birds chirping overhead. As Midoriya walked, he soon came to a patch of forest thinner than the rest; through a gap in the trees, he looked up and saw the sky. Two huge, white, puffy clouds painted the blissful blue backdrop. A sweet, vacant, daydreaming smile came over the wandering urchin’s face. In his mind’s eye, one cloud looked like a knight preparing to duel a frightful monster, represented by the other cloud. He was so lost in his daydreams, that he failed to hear Milky White’s warning bellow. And a moment later… WHUMP! “Oof!” “Ach!” Izuku thudded into something – or, rather, someone – and stumbled back clumsily before landing on his bunce with a grunt. He heard the other person fall in the same manner. “Ow,” Midoriya mumbled, massaging his sore backside for a moment before climbing up onto his feet and moving towards the other person, apologizing hastily. “I-I’m so sorry!” Izuku pleaded, extending a helping hand. “I should have watched where I was going, I just-” “It’s okay, it’s okay, stop apologizing,” the other fellow said, and stood up brushing himself off. Midoriya stepped back, withdrawing his arm and looking over the man: he was tall and exceedingly lank, with a bony face and deeply-sunken blue eyes that gave him an overall almost skeletal appearance. A huge head of wavy blonde hair adorned his scalp, and he was dressed in what appeared to be a nobleman’s coat: gold in color, with black pinstripes. Midoriya gulped nervously, eyes widening as he took in the strange man’s appearance, nearly quivering. The Mysterious Man was clearly of noble blood; would the gentleman be angry with him? He really didn’t need any trouble, he just wanted to get to the market soon… “I’m…I d-didn’t mean to bump into you, sir,” he peeped timidly, and the man – who was dusting off his coat – raised an eyebrow in his direction. “If, um…if there’s anything I can do t-to make it up to you, uh…” “Nonsense,” the Mysterious Man smiled benevolently, and gave a wink and a wide, toothy smile. “Good morning to you, Young Midoriya!” Izuku froze, mouth clapping shut. He blinked. “…Good morning to you. Uh…h-how come you know my name?” “Where are you heading this morning?” the Man asked, politely, not at all answering the question. Midoriya frowned and took a slightly suspicious step back. “I’m going to market,” he responded, lifting the part of the halter he held in emphasis. “My master’s cow here won’t milk anymore, so we’re hoping to sell her. As a pet,” he clarified, in the firmest voice he could. “Hmmm,” smirked the Mysterious Man, lifting a hand to his chin and cocking his head to one side. “I see…” A pause. “Who are you, sir?” Midoriya thought to ask. “Call me Yagi,” the Man said, simply, then smiled a bit wider. “How much are you demanding for this cow, Young Midoriya?” “No less than five pounds,” recited Izuku. Yagi frowned slightly. “Why such a sum?” “Well…um…m-my Master told me to ask for it,” Midoriya answered, honestly, and with a hint of embarrassment. “Ahhh,” nodded Yagi, then smiled anew. “And what would you say if I offered you something worth more than money?” Midoriya blinked, and looked towards Milky White, who rolled her great brown eyes up at him skeptically. He then gave Yagi an equally dubious but also keenly interested sort of look. “Such as?” Yagi smirked, and bent down, placing his hands on his knees as he was now eye-to-eye with Izuku. “Tell me, Young Midoriya…if you can…how many beans make five?” “Two in each hand, and one in your mouth!” Midoriya chirruped back, sharp as a needle, remembering the old chestnut from when he was a little boy. “Right you are!” Yagi chuckled, and tapped Midoriya on the nose. He chuckled louder as the younger man let out a childish squeak and covered his “booped” nose protectively. “And here they are now: the very beans themselves.” So saying, and with a flourish of one hand, the Mysterious Man – seemingly out of nowhere – pulled out a handful of five large, strange-looking beans: each was the size of a cashew, and each was brightly colored in different shades – red, yellow, blue, green, and pink – so that they seemed to form a little rainbow patch in the tall, thin man’s palm. “And as you are so sharp, good Midoriya,” Yagi went on, “I don’t mind offering a trade with you: how about you swap your cow…for these extraordinary, extravagant, extra-large, extra-extra-extra beans?” Midoriya looked at the colorful beans, then Yagi’s face…and frowned, scrunching his brow and looking a little confused and more than a little doubtful. “No offense, sir, but…um…why would I trade my cow for some beans?” he said, sensibly. “I mean…especially when I’ve been asked to get money. It just…doesn’t seem very wise.” “Normally, I would agree with you,” Yagi nodded, his voice equally reasonable, as he then lifted the beans a bit higher, their colors almost seeming to glisten in the sunlight that peered through the treetops. “But you haven’t got the slightest idea of what sort of beans these are. These aren’t ordinary beans: they’re MAGIC beans.” Midoriya raised an eyebrow. “Magic?” “Yes,” Yagi said. “If you plant these beans tonight – under the light of the blue moon – by morning they’ll grow into a stalk tall enough to reach the top of the blue sky itself! And not an inch less.” Midoriya’s eyes widened; now he had some interest. “Really?” “Yes, really!” Yagi grinned widely, blue eyes wide and bright. “I would stake my reputation on it!” Midoriya bit his lip…then fiddled with the halter. Milky White moved her head slowly, swinging it to watch the conversation with her own sense of dopey interest. “Again, no offense, but…I don’t know you. Sir,” Midoriya reminded the Mysterious Man. “So…what kind of reputation can I trust a stranger to have?” Yagi opened his mouth to answer…then blinked…and paused, tilting his head and looking up to the sky. “Huh,” he muttered, scratching his cheek with a long, skinny finger. “That’s reasonable enough, Young Midoriya.” Midoriya nodded and gave the halter a tug, attempting to pass. “Right. Well, thank you for your offer, sir,” he said, politely, “But I just can’t-” “Hold on, hold on!” Yagi exclaimed, with such power in his voice it made Midoriya yelp and jump back in surprise. “Let me make you a deal: the time now is…” He paused, and – with his free hand, for the other still clutched the odd beans – reached into the pocket of his nobleman’s vest, pulling out a pocket watch – both as golden as his coat – and checked it before tucking it away again. “…The time now is six o’ clock,” he reported, and then went on: “If by tomorrow, at this hour, you discover anything has happened differently, in any way at all from what I promised…then you can meet me at this exact same spot, and I’ll give you the five pounds you asked for. Now there’s something we can agree on, yeah?” Izuku still looked unconvinced. Yagi’s eyes roamed up and down the young man’s form…and he sighed before kneeling down before him. “Young Midoriya,” he whispered softly, in a voice so low and so heartfelt it caught the green-haired youth off guard. “I know we’ve only just met…and I know you haven’t got much reason at all to trust me. But I have seen the way you looked at those clouds. I know of the daydreams people say you have. Tell me something: what do you wish for, more than anything in the world?” The young man paused before answering, figuring it would do no harm: “I want to be a hero. I want…I want to help people. I want to help my village, my friends, and I…I want to BE somebody. Not just a farmer’s helper, but…someone important.” “For money or fame?” “No. Not really. I mean…those are nice, but…just knowing I did something with my life, and knowing that I helped so many other people…that’s what I really want. I want to be remembered. And I…I want to do something amazing. Something that will be worth any risk if it helps others.” Yagi’s smile widened; there was a twinkle in the thin man’s eye. “I know those dreams very well,” he said sagely, and opened his hand once more, offering the beans to the youngster again as he went on: “Take these and plant them, just as I told you. I can’t promise you what will come of them will be easy for you. I can’t promise you it will be safe. I can’t even promise you that you won’t regret it. But if you do as I say…if you take this chance I’m giving you…maybe you can be a hero.” A pause. Midoriya took a deep breath. “…Do you promise to take care of Milky White?” “I do.” “And if anything does go wrong, you do promise to pay me the five pounds?” “I’ll make it ten, if you want.” Midoriya smiled. “Then I guess there’s nothing to lose, is there?” “I wouldn’t say that,” chuckled Yagi, “But you won’t be any worse off than you are now, will you?” “That’s true,” Midoriya nodded slowly in consideration…then smiled widely, eyes lighting up. “Alright! Deal!” The bargain was executed quickly, as Yagi pulled a small leather bag out of his coat pocket. He poured the beans inside, and traded the little bag for Milky White’s halter. “Farewell, Young Midoriya,” Yagi smiled, giving a mock salute to the young man. “And a pleasure doing business with you!” “Same to you,” Midoriya smiled, adjusting his scarlet cap, and turned away, opening the bag to inspect the beans. He took a few steps away, and made sure all five were inside. Nodding to himself, he turned around again, looking up, preparing to wave goodbye… …Only to find, to his amazement, that both Yagi and Milky White had seemingly vanished into thin air. Midoriya stared at the spot where they had stood…then looked at the bag of Magic Beans…then his smile returned, and with a whoop a laugh, he pocketed the beans and ran pell-mell back down the woodland path towards the farm. He couldn’t wait to see Mr. Aizawa’s reaction!

------------------------------------------------

“YOU. LITTLE. FOOL.” With a snarl, five brightly colored, cashew-sized beans sailed out an open window in the farmhouse. Midoriya gasped and tried to grab them before they hit the ground…but it was too late. They scattered into the dirt, and must have been covered quickly, because he couldn’t see where they landed. He then whimpered and cowered as a very, VERY angry Shota Aizawa nudged him back, barring his way and glaring down at him. “Beans,” he sneered. “I’m disappointed in you, Izuku. I trusted you to make good choices. And of all things you come back with…you come back with five painted beans?” “I…b-but…but Mr. Aizawa, he said they were magic!” Aizawa’s glare didn’t shift. He just glowered, unblinkingly. Midoriya sighed and hung his head; it did sound very, very gullible, now that he thought about it. “…He…he also said…w-we could…have ten pounds…i-if it didn’t work…?” he added, hopefully, not daring to look up as he said so. “You BELIEVED him?” Midoriya remained silent. He sniffled once, and said nothing. Aizawa’s gaze softened slightly, and he pinched his brow, closing his eyes as he pointed off in another direction with one hand. “Bed,” he ordered. “Now. We’ll talk about this more in the morning. Don’t come out of your room till I tell you to. Understand?” Silence. “UNDERSTAND?!” “Y-Yes…yes, Mr. Aizawa…I’m…I-I’m sorry…” With a final sniffle, not daring to lift his head, Midoriya darted upstairs and out of the room. Aizawa sighed as he watched the young man go…then looked out the window. The sun was setting and the night was riding in fast. He shook his head despondently, grumbling to himself as he headed towards his own room.

------------------------------------------------ He needed sleep desperately…and probably a drink, as well…

Kaminari squirmed a bit uncomfortably as he sat in his bed, which lay across from Midoriya’s in the small room they occupied each night. Midoriya was lying on his side, facing the other wall, turned away from Kaminari. He hadn’t moved a muscle for an hour or two. “Hey,” Kaminari whispered. “I, uh…I just wanted to say…it’s really not as bad as you think.” Midoriya gave no response. “I mean…you know all the dumb stuff I’ve done, yeah?” Kaminari chuckled, trying to shrug and giving an uneasy smile. “And…well…Magic Beans DO sound a lot cooler than, like…I dunno…moldy cheese, r-right?” Still no response. “…Midoriya? Are you asleep already?” No response. Kaminari sighed; he’d tried. Shaking his head sadly, he lay down in bed, and turned away to face his wall. “G’night,” he mumbled out, softly. In his own bed, Midoriya said nothing. His eyes spilled tears onto his pillow as he lay totally and completely still, curled up defensively in his bed, as if trying to coil into a ball. He hugged himself as he lay on his side, and sniffled softly before wiping his eyes on one arm. A flicker of light fell over his face, and he looked up to see the blue moon shining down. With a despairing sort of look, he lay down on his belly, face in his pillow…and after several minutes, cried himself quietly to sleep.

Neither he, nor Kaminari, nor Aizawa downstairs never noticed the way the ground not so far beyond the window shifted as the moonlight passed over it…they certainly never noticed the tiny green sprout that began to wind out of the ground as they slumbered…nor how it burst with leaves and pods as it continued to grow…

------------------------------------------------

Izuku Midoriya opened his eyes to darkness. He gazed about, trying to figure out where he was…he opened his mouth to call for his master and his friend, but no sound came out in the dark, hollow void. A disturbing, hissing noise echoed out from somewhere behind him. He turned around fast…and turned pale as a sheet as he beheld a hideous, indescribable beast: as big as a house, its whole body a mass of writhing green tentacles, like some of the great sea monsters he’d seen in storybooks! He wished for a weapon…and suddenly, he found his fingers grasping the hilt of a silver sword. He looked to the sword, then the hideous creature…then glared, and took his best battle stance, holding the sword ready, challenging the beast. The tentacles swept towards him. He jumped out of the way, hacking and slashing with the blade, chopping them into pieces…but each time he struck, two more tentacles came flying at him.! He ducked and dodged as quick as he could, whirling his blade about his head as fast as he could manage… …Then, suddenly, a tentacle grabbed his arm, and with a wrenching twist, tore the sword away! He gasped, as a tentacle then grabbed his other arm, and another green tendril lashed about his waist! Izuku watched in horror, as a fourth tentacle transformed; the end of it malformed like clay, turning into a huge, green, fang-filled maw. The hideous monster licked its lips…and with a roar, the maw came careening towards him, ready to swallow him whole! “AAAAGH!” Midoriya jolted, pushing himself upright in bed…then, he settled, and panted, flopping down again with a groan as he realized he’d been having a nightmare… …One can thus imagine his reaction when he rolled onto his back in bed…to find what looked like a huge horde of green, curling tendrils pushing through the bedroom window. “YIPE!” With a shrill, almost comical yelp, Midoriya flailed and fell out of bed with a thud. He froze, as he heard Kaminari – still asleep in his own bed – groan and grumble something about “pretty girls” in his slumber. For several moments, Midoriya didn’t move…then, he scrubbed at his eyes, and took a better look at the” tendrils” poking through the window. He had quite forgotten, in his alarm, what had happened the day before. He found that the whole room had a vague, greenish hue cast over it, and the source was soon clear. His eyes widened, amazed, and he was suddenly filled with a sense of action. In a flash, he threw on his green tunic, red shoes, vest, and cap, and fastened his white rope belt before creeping downstairs quickly but quietly, not wishing to wake Aizawa or Kaminari. He stepped out of his house, and craned his neck upwards, barely able to believe his own eyes: there, in all of its splendor, rooted not more than a couple yards away from the house…was a GIGANTIC beanstalk, such as there has never been in the history of any world! It was thicker than any tree in the forest; it stretched high, up and up and up – he couldn’t see the end of it! At length, Midoriya realized that it was stretching far, far out of sight, piercing the blue sky itself! “Just as Yagi said,” he breathed, and began to quiver, a smile slowly forming on his face as his eyes danced with delight. He hadn’t been tricked! He hadn’t been fooled! The beans WERE magic! Almost without thinking, Midoriya darted forward, and grabbed hold of the two lowest branches of the spiralling beanstalk. He paused for a moment…took a deep breath…and then began to climb. He climbed till he could see through his window into Kaminari’s room…he climbed till he could jump down and hop onto the roof, if he wished…he climbed till he could look down and see the whole farm in all its vastness. He climbed, and climbed, and climbed; he had no thought in his head to keep climbing. His arms and legs seemed to be working without his will guiding him, hauling him up, up, up! He thought he would have run out of breath, one way or another, yet somehow he STILL climbed! He could see the tops of the trees, he could see birds – who looked VERY befuddled – flit past. He could see the crest of the Sun as it rose in the East, just beyond the pearly castle of Ua. Higher and higher Midoriya went, never once considering how in the world he was going to get down again safely. His heart was pounding with unparalleled excitement; even just climbing the beanstalk was an adventure in itself! Each time he looked down, he felt no fear, but an overwhelming sense of freedom and awe; seeing how small and yet how vast the world was, all at the same time, the more height he gained. Up, up, up… …Till, finally…as he reached…his fingers brushed what felt like fine, powdery sand. It was as if he were at the entrance of a well, a sea of white just beyond his reach. He reached further…and realized the beanstalk had come to an end. For the briefest of moments, panic entered his heart, as he now realized the harrowing knowledge he would have to climb back down, and that would be much harder than going up…but then, he remembered the sand, and – taking a risk – he heaved himself up daringly and held his breath… …As he popped through the whole in the sky…and found himself standing on solid ground. He had reached the point where the sky itself came to an end. A world above the clouds. Midoriya stared around in awe, stumbling forward, too thunderstruck to speak as his jaw dropped and he took in the sights around him. Ahead of him stretched a long, wide road of blue, powdery earth. ENORMOUS trees – taller than any he had ever seen – stood before him: their trunks were silver, and their leaves were a pale, sugary white. The sky itself was a pale, unusual violet hue, with streaks of orange passing through it – the colors of sunset, but without the steady shift. That was just the color, all the time, he wagered. The air was uncannily still; a few times on the climb up, he’d had to pause to hold onto his cap, to keep his hat from being blown miles out of his grasp. Now, though…there was no wind at all. “Whoa,” he murmured to himself, unable to say anything else as he began to walk down the road, staring and staring at the peculiar new plane he had discovered. His heartbeat only continued to quicken; this was the most spectacular thing he’d ever experienced. GRRRLLLB… “Ah-ah!” Izuku winced sharply, scrunching his eyes shut as he paused in his walk, and clutched his stomach…then sighed as he rubbed it gently. “Right…didn’t eat breakfast this morning…or supper last night, for that matter,” he muttered, a little sourly. His stomach whined again, and he bit his lip; it actually felt quite painful, the hunger pangs scraping against his gut lining. He looked around, his mind leaving the sense of wild adventure in favor of the more practical desire for food. Another world or not, he figured there had to be SOMETHING to eat around here! Sure enough, his green eyes soon spotted something: a white bush, covered in dark purple berries, not unlike grapes. Curious, Midoriya approached the bush; the bush alone was TREMENDOUS, about the size of the toolshed back on the farm. Carefully. He reached out and plucked one of the grape-like fruits off the branches; they were the size of footballs. Midoriya sniffed at the berry; it smelled sweet, and he smiled before taking a bite…only to gag and sputter, spitting out chunks of the stuff as he dropped the berry and rapidly scrubbed at his tongue. “Ugh!” he choked. “It…it smells nice, but…it TASTES like frog skins! O-Or rotten fish!” His stomach whined, pleading for something. He sighed again, and rubbed it, mouth starting to water with hunger as he lurched onward, desperately looking around for something to eat as he left the foul-tasting berry bush behind. Whatever THOSE berries were, he could survive without them…they were probably toxic, anyway, given that flavor! On Midoriya traveled, and louder his stomach growled. Everything around him was larger than he was used to; he’d ducked when a huge shadow, which he thought was an eagle, flew past his head…and nearly thought he’d faint when he realized it was a black-and-blue-colored butterfly, drinking from a pink flower the size of a small tree. He shook his head and continued forward, hoping he might find some breakfast soon… …And then…he froze. What looked like a gray wooden bridge was stretched across a black river, which sparkled like a starry night sky. And on the other side of the bridge was a giant house; it was not as poor as the old farmhouse, nor as splendid as a nobleman’s manor…somewhere in the middle, Midoriya guessed. Despite this middling state of obvious expense, the place was bigger than any house he’d seen…except maybe one… “It’s as big as a Castle,” he breathed…and with a light shake of his head, he hustled forward towards the building, almost desperately. A place that big was bound to be home to some kind of adventure…and if he was lucky, he thought, adjusting his white belt, maybe it was home to some food, as well. Midoriya dashed across the bridge, till he came to the door of the big house. There was no hope of reaching the doorknob, and some sixth sense told Midoriya that knocking would not only be likely fruitless, but potentially dangerous: whoever lived here was clearly no ordinary person. His mind started to race, wondering what COULD live in this house above the sky: a demon? A dragon? A clown? Hey, clowns were creepy. Whatever the case, Izuku’s hunger had quite a grip on him, as did his curiosity; he wasn’t turning back now. He soon noticed there was a gap under the door – he guessed big enough for a mouse to wriggle under. It was telling of how small he was compared to everything else that Izuku was able to wiggle through this gap, and soon found himself standing inside the enormous house. The interior of the giant building matched the exterior: it was neither especially poor-looking, nor particularly grand. The overall style reminded Izuku of a hunting lodge: rugs that appeared to be made from animal skins covered the wooden floor, and weapons the size of boats were displayed. What looked like a cow’s skull was mounted in one spot…but the skull, as well as the skins, were far more monstrous in their dimensions than any animals of the same kind Midoriya had ever encountered. His attention was drawn away from his surroundings when a sumptuous smell caught his nose; his poor, empty belly growled, and he had to wipe some drool away from the corner of his mouth before creeping carefully in the direction of the smell. He truly did feel like a mouse right now; he had the distinct sensation of invading some larger, more physically superior creature’s territory. He had to be careful: he had no idea if the one(s) who lived here might be home. If he got caught, this adventure could be over FAR quicker than he liked. Thankfully, he didn’t get caught, as he scampered across the floor, and found his way to a warm, welcomingly-lit kitchen. He looked up, and his eyes lit up with joy; he almost squealed with glee! Eager as could be, he scurried up one of the table legs – he’d just climbed a beanstalk that reached to the sky, THIS was nothing – and hauled himself up onto the tabletop. A tremendous feast lay before him: a huge hambone, a roasted chicken, apple dumplings, a block of cheddar cheese, a half-rack of beef ribs, and a lamb stew with carrots and potatoes all sat upon the table. Not only were these six separate courses quite a substantial amount of food in general, but because everything around Izuku was at least twenty times bigger than normal, any ONE of these dishes would have been enough to feed him and his fellow farmers for a whole week. Midoriya grinned and clapped excitedly, as his mind immediately started turning: perhaps this was how he could become a hero! Some of this could bring food to the whole village, or at least be sold at market for more than enough money to help out around the farm! The question was how to carry it all back… GRRROOOUUURRRRG… He hissed and clutched his belly with both hands…and laughed weakly. “Right,” he murmured. “I, uh…I should probably NOT try thinking on an empty stomach, huh?” His tummy answered with a grumpy-sounding grumble. Midoriya patted it gently, and looked around the table…then – as if he couldn’t feel more rodent-like already – he made a beeline for the cheese. He knelt before the giant block, and licked his lips before sinking his hands into it, pulling away fistfuls of cheddar, peeling it away almost like clay. He inhaled the scent, relishing his well-earned feast, and then began to shovel the cheese into his mouth rapidly, gobbling it with almost animalistic abandon. He sighed after several mouthfuls, eyes fluttering closed as he chewed and then swallowed heavily. “GRULP! Ahhhh…this is the best cheese I’ve ever had,” he crooned, and grinned wider than ever, stomach still roaring for more as he reached for another fistful… THUMP-A-THUMP-A-THUMP…! Midoriya froze. His ears pricked up as he heard a rhythmic, steady pounding; like some huge hammer slamming down again and again into the earth. He quickly recognized the sound to be footsteps. Very, VERY big footsteps. The sound grew louder, as whatever made the footstesps drew nearer. Midoriya turned fast and gasped as he saw a huge shadow come creeping across the wall, growing larger by the second! Thinking fast, he stuffed the last fistful of cheddar into his mouth…then, cheeks still bulging with the food, he hustled over to where he saw a salt and pepper shaker set, and ducked behind them quickly. No longer in the open, Midoriya peeked out from behind his hiding spot. His green eyes widened more than ever, terror striking his heart like a lightning bolt, as he saw the owner of the footsteps – the owner of the house – come swaggering into view. “A Giant!” The Giant stood at about fifty feet high, and the more Midoriya looked at the ogre, the more frightened he became. The titan was a handsome but imposing young man – roughly the same age as Izuku himself – with a head of spiky red hair that almost resembled flames. His eyes, too, were a shade of almost glowing scarlet, and as he yawned and stretched, Midoriya whimpered at the sight of a mouth full of razor-sharp, craggy-looking fangs. The young Giant wore a black vest lined with fluffy-looking red fur, and a pair of black leather trousers. Thick black boots were on his feet, and a long, flowing red sash was lashed about his middle The behemoth was bare-armed and bare-bodied, wearing no shirt beneath the vest; his abdomen was toned and athletic, rippling with powerful muscles, and his limbs were much the same. Between the colors, the fangs, and the overall size and demeanor of the Giant, Midoriya was trembling: he’d never met a giant, but he’d heard stories of them, and they were never very good. Giants were said to walk like men, but had appetites like devils; they would eat men, women, and children for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, often swallowing them whole. They would raid villages, devouring everyone and almost everything in sight, often never leaving till their bellies were swollen and heaving with all they had consumed. Then – despite their gargantuan masses – they would simply and suddenly disappear, with no evident explanation. To slay a giant was a feat few knights had succeeded in, and to meet a giant, for most people, was surely a death sentence. No one had ever figured out where they actually came from. It seemed Midoriya just had. Or, at least, he’d found where ONE of them came from. The scarlet-haired giant thankfully never noticed Midoriya; he smiled as he clapped his hands together and rubbed them eagerly, looking over the food on the table. Izuku ducked back behind the shaker to avoid being seen. “Well…now that that’s taken care of,” the Giant mumbled, seemingly talking to its own food, “I’ve just gotta get a drink, and we’ll be ready! Don’t worry, breakfast: I’ll introduce you to my belly soon enough!” The Giant cackled and patted his muscular, trim belly in emphasis, then began to hum a jaunty tune as he strode over to another part of the kitchen. Midoriya gaped as he looked around the table for a moment. Breakfast…ALL of this…was breakfast for ONE giant?! No wonder their appetites were legendary. At least nothing here was alive…except for Midoriya himself, he realized, with a shudder. A sound of running fluid caught the youth’s attention, and he peeked out from behind the shaker. The Giant had stomped over to large barrel or keg, with a faucet stuck into it. From the spigot poured a stream of what looked and smelled like cherry cider. (Absently, Midoriya wondered how many cherries on HIS world it would take to fill a barrel of cider that big.) The Giant was smiling a happy, cheery smile as he watched the cider fill the thick clay mug he was holding… …Then, as he turned the dial to stop the flow, his mug filled…he froze. Midoriya saw the Giant frown in confusion…then, the red-eyed monster lifted his head up and began to sniff the air. His nostrils flared, becoming huge black holes as his ears pricked up, clearly alert. Midoriya internally cursed, biting his lip and ducking back behind the salt shaker as he heard the Giant approach the table again. He heard the dull “clunk” of the huge mug being put down… “Hmmmm…something smells good around here,” the Giant mumbled. “And it’s not the food…” Midoriya fought the urge to whimper, hugging himself and curling in on himself. His heart pounded with terror as he heard the ogre begin to search room; he could hear him open the larder and the cupboards…then heard the rattling of dishes as he searched the table itself, sniffing at the air all the while. “Please don’t find me,” he whispered to himself in a breathless prayer. “Oh, please don’t find me…please, please don’t find me…” The hopes were vain ones, and he knew it; the Giant could smell him, and once it found him, he had no doubt he’d a VERY intimate experience with those razor sharp teeth. Mind racing, Midoriya looked towards the edge of the table; perhaps he could make a break for it, scramble down the table leg and find a better place to hide, then head back home via the beanstalk. But then he’d be leaving empty-handed…empty-handed was better than dead, though… Just as he was measuring his options, his blood ran cold as he felt the shakers he’d been hiding behind get lifted away…and an ominous, thorny-looking shadow fell over him. He gulped nervously…and, very slowly, looked upwards towards the source of the shadow. The blood red eyes of the Giant fell upon him. The ogre tilted its head…and then grinned, showing off all of those huge, jagged teeth. “Oh! Hi, little guy!” the Giant boomed. “What are you doing here?” NOPE, was all Midoriya could think, as he leapt to his feet and sprinted towards the edge of table. “Hey, now, don’t leave in such a rush!” Midoriya squealed as a huge hand swooped down and grabbed hold of him. He froze, not daring to squirm, as for a few moments, he was wrapped up in huge fingers that felt like pythons coiled around him, pressed against a palm that was both soft and somewhat leathery in texture. He could feel gravity change around him, sensed himself being lifted higher… …Then jolted as a second hand joined the fray, cupping him gently as the fingers parted slightly, revealing a red eye about as large as he was tall. “Peek-a-boo!” sang out a voice, followed by a snigger. The fingers then parted fully, and Midoriya found himself sitting the middle of the Giant’s hands, the huge titan smiling down at him widely. “Hey there!” the Giant sang out gaily. “I’m Kirishima! Eijiro Kirishima! What’s your name, little fella?”

To Be Continued…

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sevi007 · 4 years ago

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(have not played hades but-) Can you imagine Persephone dragging Hades to the surface for just a minute, just for a moment. He's grumbling, he's BUSY, there is so much work to do and-what, is that-? huh. He doesn't remember the sun being that. warm. did he forget? no. Must be because he's with her.

I hope it says something about HOW MUCH I JUST WROTE for this prompt if I post a link to AO3 first, before the story - Because it just got SO long. XD

Read the answer to this on my AO3 under the name “Home is not where you live (but who cares when you’re gone)”

Or read it under the cut, but in worse formatted form:

„Mother really does not do things halfway, does she?”

Persephone’s voice was strained, the chatter of her teeth laced into her every word. And yet when Hades turned to her she was smiling wistfully, her gaze directed at the glittering white around them fond and amused both.

As soon as he noted the shivers wracking her frame, Hades immediately moved to cross the distance between them, already loosening the clasp of his cape while cursing himself to the depths of Erebus and back again. Even to him, with his cape and internal fire, the air was frigid. To the goddess of spring, it must have been positively arctic. How could he not have thought of that?!

For all his anger at himself and his mother-in-law, his hands were infinitely gentle when he draped his cape around Persephone’s stiff shoulders, pulling it closed around her. “Your mother,” he grumbled to himself, nearly letting the words get lost in his beard, “always had a talent for holding grudges for a very, very long time, even for us gods.”

“Oh, I…,” a little sound slipped from Persephone’s lips, a curious mixture of surprise and awe as she watched his hands wrap her gently in the cloth. Once he was finished, she reached up and touched his retreating hand gently, effectively rooting him in place when she smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

Feeling as frozen as the land around them, Hades could not muster a single word. He nodded jerkily, murmuring something which could count as assent, and forced himself to take a step back again, to put distance between them to be able to breathe again.

At least Persephone seemed to need to get her bearings about herself as well. She blinked into empty space for a beat before shaking her head, laughing quietly, and focusing on him again. “Well!” Let’s keep moving, before we freeze in place.”

“I would not even put that option past her,” he mumbled. He had thought the crunch of snow under their feet would have swallowed the quiet words, but Persephone actually laughed, blindsiding him completely with the melodious sound and nearly making him stumble. Blast.

„You are still going on about that? I’m sure this is not her holding a grudge; this is...” Persephone gesticulated about, clearly at a loss of words, until she caught sight of him and the way his bushy eyebrows had risen nearly to his hairline. Defeated, she snorted and let her hands drop. „Perhaps a little. A very little grudge.“

“Perpetual winter. And only here,” he reminded her gruffly, only to bite back a court laugh when she leveled a glower at him, stubborn and defiant for a beat – before she deflated.

“She really is good at this, isn’t she?” Once he nodded gravely, she was already smiling again, her good spirits not that easily deterred. “But grudge or not – it really is quite beautiful, in its own way. Look!”

Hades grunted and would have kept walking, but of course she would not have any of it. She stopped right before the way bent around a corner, and with how close she had positioned herself at the edge of the plummeting cliff, he could not bring himself to simply continue on and leave her there. With nothing left to do other than to follow her gaze or stare at her, he heaved a soundless sigh and allowed himself to take in the sight.

As far as they could see, the land was clad in powdery white, glittering in the early morning light as if diamonds had been ground into the finest powder and strewn out. And where the last edges of his - their - realm ended, there was only the sea, dancing lights reflecting on light waves, and the sky above, tinted in hues of orange, pink and palest blue.

It really was quite beautiful; he was at a point where he could admit it was. Once upon time he had been blind to the beauty of the surface and the skies; too hurt to see anything but a disappointment in those domains which had been denied to him. Not because he envied his brothers for the realms they governed over; blood and darkness, no! He could not have cared less about lofty highs and watery depths, and much less wanted to call them his own.

No, his ire had been drawn burning hot because it had been a short straw which had decided it all.

His life, his future, resting on a single straw. What a cruel joke that had been. Had the decision not been made by the Fates, anyway, long before he had made his draw? And they all had known so. He had known – had known that neither his brothers nor the Fates had even left him the pretense of having a say in the matter.

Now, eons upon eons later, he had embraced his fate and accepted the Underworld as his to govern over, much like it had accepted him in return. And with it, his rage had cooled. He was no longer blinded by it while gazing out over the mortals’ realm, feeling not awe over it, but at least a certain… contentment.

Although maybe most of it was because of the goddess at his side. Hades found he forgot all about the landscape once his gaze settled on Persephone; her eyes shone as she took in the sight, and the bow of her excited smile was so familiar and near-forgotten both, it wrenched painfully at his heart.

A portrait could never come close to the real sight of her.

It felt nearly sacrilegious to draw her away from something which could made her smile like that, but she would be miffed if she did not get the work done what they had come here for. Hades was reaching for her before his mind caught up with it, and only managed to draw his hand back an inch from her shoulder. “Persephone,” he called instead, quietly. „The garden?“

“Hm? Oh! Right,” another laugh; this time, he was better braced for it, and did not feel as weak-kneed as before when he followed her away from the cliff and up the mountains again while she chattered on. “My apologies. Here I am dragging you up to the surface to gather some plants from my garden, and then I get sidetracked at every opportunity.”

“You did not need to drag me,” he reminded her firmly, although not unkindly. “You asked if someone had the time for a short trip. I did, so I agreed.”

«And that was very kind of you,” Persephone’s steps were quick and sure, finding their way up towards the cottage blindly even while she glanced back at him. “Don’t think I’m not aware that there is now work piling up for you! But I would have had to ask Charon, otherwise, and I so hate to keep him from his duty...”

“It is doubtful he would have found the opportunity.” Frowning down at the slippery snowmelt his fire-clad feet left behind, Hades swallowed a grumbled and shook the cold wetness off as discreetly as he could. “With all the time he has spent selling useless clutter to the boy-… Zagreus, he is behind in his work as it is.”

His harsh words did not seem to deter her in the least. Green eyes flashed with mirth over her shoulder as she chuckled. “All that selling of clutter you have not forbidden him yet, you mean?”

A grumble left him, too indistinct to pinpoint if it was embarrassed agreement or offended muttering, and she laughed heartily. He kept silent, letting her have her fun at this expense. She was right, anyway, and it would distract her from questioning his decision to accompany her, which was a relief in itself.

What would she say, he wondered, watching her sure-footed gait up the hills and the smile he could only make out the curves of from his position, when she knew he had never intended to let anybody but him accompany her up here? He would have loaded the chthonic gods with work himself if he had needed to, only to make sure he was the only one who had time for her.

Not because he did not trust anybody else to protect her. She was very capable of taking care of herself, nobody knew that better than him.

It was the destination of her trip which made him uneasy. Having to let her go, months at a time, for her visits to Olympus would be terrible enough already; he was aware of all his subjects and colleagues already conspiring not to bother him during those times, since his mood would be at all-time low the kind of which even titans and giants would have feared. But when it came to Olympus, he was at least sure she would always return to hi– to the Underworld. She did not like the mountaintop any more than he did, after all.

But here? The place she had made for herself; the everlasting reminder that he had chased her away once already? That she did not need him to be happy? He could not bear the thought of letting her go here alone and risk that he was left in the dark about her changing her mind about the Underworld, about her place amongst them… about him.

If she did, he would not stop her, of course. He would let her go, no matter how it would break him. But at least he would be there, and would know where she was; that she was safe.

And at least he could say goodbye this time.

So lost in his increasingly hopeless thoughts was he that he did not notice the sound of her footsteps changing; the crunch of snow was replaced with the soft sound of grass swishing around her ankles. It was the change of temperature that alerted him to a shift, seconds before her voice made him look up, “We’re here! Zagreus did not promise too much, he really has been taking care of… Hades?”

Hades could not have answered even if he had really heard what she had been saying. He was frozen in place the moment he had looked up and laid eyes on their destination.

It was not what he had expected; not that he had been sure what, exactly, he expected to find on this trip. Perhaps something akin to the garden adorning the House down below: plants which could flourish despite the close proximity to the beyond, and which had likely survived more because of the magic of their owner rather than his own clumsy care in her absence.

But this place was different. This place, down to its very core, was her.

Persephone.

She was everywhere here, in the air, in the ground. Not only her magic and her vitality were represented in the eternal spring garden – no, better. Worse. He saw the warmth of her smile reflected in the magical golden sunlight; heard the lilt of her happiest laughter in the gurgle of the stream further ahead; could feel the smell of her hair wafting up from the multitude of flowers tickling his nose.

The kindness and strength of her very soul was represented in every single piece of nature around them, and it was so overwhelming that even the God of the Dead stood stunned, unable to tear his eyes away from it all – away from her, standing there in the middle of the golden sunlight, looking every bit like the goddess and queen she was.

“It’s alright.”

Her gentle voice pulled him from his stupor.

Persephone was smiling patiently at him, hand offered out with its palm up. “It’s alright,” she repeated gently, softly. “You won’t burn any of it, I promise.”

Hades’ confusion was short-lived; only long enough to notice that in his shock, he had stopped just short of stepping onto the lush green grass. Of course, he knew his fire would not, could not, burn any of this; it had never burned any of her plants down below, either. And still he felt hesitant to take the first step into this sanctuary of hers.

How could he possibly be welcome here, a distant part of him wondered, in this domain which was hers and hers alone, when he once had been the reason she had left the Underworld in the first place?

When he should have come here to beg her to return back home, yet never did?

And yet, there was still her hand offered out to him, her smile directed at him so kind and gentle. Even the deepest guilt and most crippling doubt could not stop him from taking such an invitation, and he reached for her haltingly, allowing her much smaller hand to slip into his and draw him over the invisible line between them.

Persephone’s widening smile was fully worth it.

Ripping his gaze from her features before he could be caught staring at the crinkles around her eyes or the bow of her lips, Hades directed his attention to the quaint cottage in the corner of the magical garden. While commonly and unassuming at first glance, upon closer inspection it was shimmering with the same power as the rest of the place did. “You made this yourself. Everything?”

“Mhmmmm,” even Persephone’s hum was proud. “The very first living quarters I made and maintained myself.”

You should not have had to. “It is… comfortable.” Internally, he cursed his clumsiness. He could thunder orders powerful enough to halt titans in their tracks, command respect with a single cold word, yet this was causing him trouble?

Luckily, Persephone seemed blind to his inner war, beaming up at him as if he had made her the biggest compliment. “Right? I was quite happy with how it turned out; so homely. Although it became a little quiet from time to time, but… oh, well! Here we are.”

Her hand slipped from his as she moved to kneel next to a patch, immediately leaving him feeling cold. His fingers flexed, feeling the lingering ghost of her touch, while he watched his wife fuss a little with the ends of her peplos and chiton to get comfortable, setting the yet empty basket down next to herself. His cape, neatly folded, found its place next to it. The careful way with which she stroked over the cloth for a beat, lingering, made Hades’ heart turn over in his chest, and he had to look away.

In the middle of pushing her hair back, Persephone suddenly seemed to remember him standing there – already lost to her work, he noted with a surge of staggering fondness – and shot him a half-reassuring, half-apologetic smile. “I will try to be as quick as I can. You, hm. You still might want to get comfortable, however? There are chairs right over…there… oh.”

Her voice trailed off and into silence when he lowered himself to kneel beside her, mirroring her stance. She was still staring at him silently by the time he tucked the tips of his long beard aside so they would not get in the way, and in lieu of having to say much else, Hades murmured, “It will be faster, this way.”

“Right. Right, yes, of course.” She ducked her head, yet was not fast enough to hide her smile completely.

Unsure if she was making fun of him or not, he swallowed his instinctive, defensive retort and raised an eyebrow at her profile. “I do remember a little of what you taught me.”

“You do?”

The question was high with surprise. He felt his hackles rise immediately, jaw tensing. Of course she could not even imagine that he would-…

“Oh, I’m sorry, Hades,” her hand settling gently on his elbow made his rage draw back like the tides, as quickly as it had come. When he glanced up again, Persephone grimaced in a way that was apologetic and self-deprecating all at once. “That was silly of me. I should have known you – I know you still remember. After all,” and here, her expression softened in a way that made his throat go tight, “after all, you took care of the garden by the House in my absence, right?”

Once more he tensed; this time not from anger, but because he suddenly felt caught out. He nearly ripped his arm from under her hand but couldn’t bring himself to do it, so he simply avoided her gaze, rather decisively. “I attempted to.”

“And you did a wonderful job at it,” Persephone said, so firm he dared not even scoff at her words. “I was so happy to see it all flourishing when I came back. After all this time, I thought… well. To be honest, I thought it would all have wilted.”

Hades looked up at her sharply, searching for her gaze, but now it was her who was looking away. She thought…? “Never,” his own voice startled him a little, raspier than he had meant to be. “I could never have…. It was… it was yours.”

The mere idea of the garden wilting and dying made him sick, even now. It had been one of the two only things that he had left of her, apart from their son. All to remember her by. Raising Zagreus like the way the boy had deserved… well, he had failed at that, hadn’t he? But the garden. The garden he had somehow managed, to his own astonishment.

While he watched, Persephone’s features softened; Hades could not decipher the emotions swirling in her green eyes, yet the intensity there made his mouth go dry. Before he could further question it, she looked away, releasing him from his stupor. “Let’s get to work; I have kept you long enough.”

His first instinct was to deny it; he had come here willingly, after all. But she was already handing him a little spade to work with, avoiding his gaze as she began to explain what she would like to do. All he could really do was accept the tool and nod jerkily along to her words, trying to get his whirling thoughts into order and focus.

In the end, it was not as difficult as first feared. They fell into a kind of easy rhythm, a dance they had danced long ago and with steps that now quickly came back them. Persephone directed him with gentle words and helpful pointers while she made quick work of her own half of the patch; he, in turn, was content to follow her lead without missing a beat. Most of the time, he dug a hole around the plants she pointed out to him, graciously leaving space around the roots so as not to damage them, and then let her lift seedlings, seeds and bulbs out of the earth to dust them off and set them aside in her basket.

Often, Hades got momentarily lost watching her. Watching her simply… being. He had nearly forgotten how radiant she was when content. The tilt of her little smile when she found a particularly strong little seedling. That she would praise the plants for their beauty and growth. More than once, he had to force himself to look away in time to avoid her questioning gaze, for he did not know if his staring would be welcome at all.

Only once the sun had already passed its zenith did Persephone sit back on her heels with a deep, content sigh and wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, cleaning sweat and dirt off her brow. “Phew, that should last us for quite a while now.”

Hades followed her lead and sat back; he knew better than to make a snide comment about the plentiful assemble of plants nearly spilling over the sides of the large basket. He already knew she would probably return here at some point in the near future, no matter what she said now. The surface was part of her, and she needed it like her flowers needed the sunlight. “Shall we heed back, then?”

“Probably,” but even as she said it, Persephone did not sound convinced. Her gaze lingered on the garden around them, travelling here and there, but never quite meeting his. “You will have to meet Zagreus by the temple soon, won’t you? He was preparing to leave when we went out.”

Ah. Hades nodded with a quiet grunt, hoping his surprise was not as visible as he thought. He had completely forgotten about that while they had been here, and he did not quite like to admit it.

The curve of Persephone’s smile betrayed her pride as she glanced over at him once more. “He got so good at this. Do you think he has passed through Asphodel already?”

“He will be leaving it soon,” Hades corrected absentmindedly and without a hint of doubt. He felt it, the same way he felt his heart beat and his lungs draw breath: While they spoke here peacefully, tremors shook Asphodel beneath their feet. Ear-splitting hisses sent tortured souls scurrying for cover while the trashing of an angered Hydra sent more magma over the edges, flooding what little solid ground was still left with the Phlegethon’s liquid fire.

Zagreus had become quick in his escapes, Hades had to give him that; with each run to the surface, the young god got faster, stronger, more strategic about his approach, and the Underworld had little to offer that could keep him chained, at this point. The Hydra would not be able to hold him in place long. The champions of Elysium would slow him down somewhat but even they would fall before the prince, as they had done many, many times before. And then soon, it would be the Lord’s own turn to try and send him back to the House.

By sunset, Hades guessed when he checked the sun once more, sunset at the latest he would have to face his son. And while those fights had gone on from a bitter deed over to an annoying nuisance and ended up being something he actually looked a little forward to – well. Today was different, wasn’t it.

Persephone was still looking at him questioningly, ever patient, when Hades glanced back at her. There was still a streak of dirt on her cheek which she did not have seemed to notice. It made her look younger, somehow; every bit the young, spirited goddess with dirt under her fingernails and the stars in her eyes whom Zeus had one day dropped at his doorsteps as a “gift”, and who had immediately started to worm her way into his heart.

Without making the conscious decision to, Hades reached out and gently, carefully, wiped the dirt of her cheek with his thumb. Under his palm, he felt her draw a breath and then fall entirely still, and when he realized what he had just done, he dropped his hand immediately.

He had not made the first move to touch her ever since she came back. And now he was not sure if the wide-eyed look she gave him was to mean he had made a horrible mistake.

Changing the subject right now seemed the safe thing to do.

“Hades…”

“There is time yet,” Hades interrupted her softly; unsure if he wanted to hear what she had to say. “I can remain for a little longer, if…”

He trailed off, gaze flicking away from her as he cleared his throat uneasily. How to continue on without making it sound like he was trying to make her decision for her was beyond him. Yet asking her to please, stay here, with me, a little longer, seemed like too much, still.

“Hades.”

It was said much firmer now, a gentle command which immediately made him listen, even when he could not yet bring himself to look back at her. He nearly did, his whole arm jerking in surprise and shock, when she gently took hold of the hand he had let drop away from her moments before. Her touch felt alien, after all this time; his fingers twitched when hers ghosted along them, cradling them, torn between holding very still and grabbing hold of her.

Persephone’s gaze was a near corporal thing, drilling into his temple, but he still refused to meet her gaze; couldn’t bring up the courage to do it. She seemed to sense this, since she took a deep breath after a moment and began talking again without waiting for eye contact. “When Zagreus visited me, here, before… he told me something.”

Both of her hands settled around his now, holding him, staying him. It might have been a good thing, for a suspicion already rose in his mind, making his muscles lock as if to bolt.

“He believed you might still love me.”

Suspicions became reality, All air leaving him in a great rush, Hades closed his eyes, remembering – remembering very vividly: the door to his chambers just the slightest bit ajar on his return; dust on a side table disturbed ever so slightly; and the portrait… the portrait which had been standing half an inch more to the side as it had for the last eternity.

He should have been furious, then; he should have been furious now. At his son for meddling in things that were not his to care about; at Achilles, for abandoning his guard duty out of misplaced loyalty; at the Fates, perhaps, for continuing to make a fool of him.

Instead, he only felt tired. So very, very tired.

And she was not even done yet.

“Do not be angry with him.” The force in her voice nearly made him smirk despite the circumstances; every bit the queen he still remembered after all. Then her voice softened again, making him listen very closely despite himself, to catch her next words. “He did it to convince me to come back, you see. Because I said -… well, I said to him there was nothing left for me, in your House. Not after…after all this time.”

By the end of it, her voice had taken on such a softness, such a dejected tone, that he could no longer look away. His head swiveled around, but ironically, now she was avoiding him; keeping her gaze fixed intently on their joined hands and making it impossible for his incredulous stare to decipher her meaning.

Nothing left? She could not be serious. She could not have possible thought, all this time…

“I could not quite believe it, when he told me,” Persephone continued on, either blind to his inner turmoil or ignoring it for the moment. “That could not possibly be true, because… because. After all this time? After… I left you, without as much as a goodbye.”

She laughed quietly, then, but it was nothing like the sound he loved to hear so much; it was watery and quivering, and he could not stay still for any second longer, reeling as he was. Turning his wrist in her grip so he could cradle her hand in his palm, Hades squeezed it, hoping it would get her to look at him as he reminded her gently, “You left me a letter.”

“A letter,” the shaky sound repeated itself, laced with a scoff, but at least Persephone looked up at him now. Her eyes were watery, but steely as she shook her head. “That letter was not enough to tell you-…”

“I understood,” he hated to interrupt her, but he would not let her go that spiral of doubt and she was working herself up to. “I understood that you did not want to stay.”

She fell quiet then, her gaze darting over his features, searching for something. A deep breath, then a sad smile formed on her face once she seemed to have found it. “Perhaps. But perhaps, you misunderstood my reasons to leave.”

What? Hades slowly shook his head. It seemed ridiculous. Of course he had known. There might have been a great many things he had not known anymore, then – why they had to suffer; why she had to be punished for their love; why anything still mattered with her gone. But this, he had known.

“Really?” Persephone prodded, gaze sharpening a little at his denial. “Did you really know? I did not tell you. I should have told you.”

“You were not happy,” this was the easiest part, painful as it might be; the sound of her crying had haunted him for a long, long time, after all. “It was obvious. What was there to tell me?”

“Is that really all you thought? Or did you think, maybe, that I was not happy with you?”

Already having opened his mouth to reassure her once again that he had understood, Hades paused, carefully considering her words once more. To him, there had never been a difference; if his wife had not been happy in their home, then it had to be his fault. If she had to leave because she could stand it no longer, than he had failed her. What husband was he, when he could not even make her feel welcome, and happy?

“That is what I feared,” Persephone interpreted his long silence immediately, and correctly. She looked positively grief-stricken when she shook her head. “Oh, Hades. That is what I meant when I said the letter was not enough-… you were never the reason why I left!”

He had not been? He had not been. But still…

“I was not reason enough to make you stay, either.” He cringed the second the words left his mouth, hating how petulant and selfish they sounded.

“… Back then, no, I suppose you weren’t.”

It hurt to hear her say it, even when he had always known it for a fact.

“You always made me so happy. However, at that time, there were so many things that made me forget what happiness even meant.” Persephone’s breath caught a little before she shook her head, drawing aimless pattern on the back of his hand. “My insecurities over my place in your realm…. If I was able to be the queen you deserved. My loneliness. And, most of all…. when Zagreus…”

Her voice gave out on her, then; he did not need her to finish, hold around her shaking fingers instinctively tightening.

(Their son had been so very small. So very beautiful. So very dead silent.)

Quietly, Persephone sniffled, one hand coming up to discreetly wipe at her eyes before she continued, keeping her head ducked. “Some of those things, I am still not sure about, even looking back at them. But I had time to… get some distance from it all. And Zagreus… well.”

She looked up, smile soft yet radiant. “He found me.”

What should have been a reason for joy only made Hades twitch guilty, nearly pulling his hand back; her touch suddenly so undeserved. For none of that had been his work. He might have believed his decisions right, once, everything only to protect her. But in the end, he had only kept mother and son apart at every turn. “I should have told you,” he muttered, knowing she would understand without words.

And she did. For one terrifying moment, Persephone’s features closed off from him, lips tightening from a smile into a frown. No longer the warmth of spring, but rather cold disapproval. “Yes, you should have. On that, our son and I agree wholeheartedly.”

Again, he cringed, her soft words like a whip. He did not deserve their forgiveness, he knew, but… but. He feared, anyway.

“But that is not why I’m telling you all this. Not today,“

Barely able to believe his ears, Hades dared to risk another glance at her. Persephone had softened once again, her warmth returning. Yet she seemed hesitant to begin talking once again; he was familiar with the way she bit her lip, eyes lowered.

After a moment of hesitation, he allowed himself to shift his thumb, letting it ghost over her knuckles in silent encouragement.

Persephone‘s eyes darted to his, briefly surprised, before her smile returned and she squeezed his hand back, clearing her throat. “So Zagreus told me you might – might still love me. Well. I wasn’t convinced, as I already said. Not even when he told me about the portrait. A portrait could just be a memory, after all. Collecting dust, no longer getting any attention.”

At that point, Persephone faltered once more, her gaze asking for his understanding. Hades nodded slowly; not in agreement, for her assumption could not be further from the truth, but in the hope she would continue. He needed to know what she was trying to tell him.

And she did. ”But… Zagreus’ claim stayed with me. In the end, whether he was right or not, it was the only thing he could have said to convince me to come back.”

She fell silent, then. Hades could barely breathe, anticipation and fear warring in him as he waited for her to explain, one moment, two, what seemed to be an eternity. Finally he realized that it would not happen, not without his prompting.

Swallowing tightly, he managed a rough „Why?“

It had been the right thing to do, judging by the way her whole demeanor relaxed and she smiled at him. „Because out of everything I left behind, it was you whom I missed the most.“

A wave of disbelief and relief swapped over him, strong enough to leave even a god dizzy. After all this time, all his shortcomings - knowing that she had missed him even a little was a balm on his broken old heart.

Fates, but he did not deserve her.

Hands trembling faintly under the onslaught, he forced them to calm long enough to wrap them around Persephone’s, dwarfing them, while he searched for words. They were not his strength, ever been. But she had been so terribly brave and strong, and now – now it was his turn. It was the least he could do for her.

“Not only a memory,” was what he finally managed, tongue so heavy with emotions he could barely get it out. “The portrait, it was not that. It was always there, Persephone. You... you will always be my queen.”

It was not the great declaration of love he had hoped to make. Not that he had ever been the best at those, anyway. Perhaps it was for the best; at least for now, when he was not sure such a declaration would even be welcome.

And still, great words or no, her eyes started to glow as she took in his words, a slow smile spreading on her face. She had always been the one to understand what he meant, no matter what words he did or did not say. Carefully, so very carefully, she slipped her hand from his – his heart missed a step in fear – only to take his hand in hers instead, to lift their joined fingers to her cheek in a mimicry of his earlier touch; a tiny thing that seemed to long ago now.

The whole world seemed to stop when she leaned into his touch, searching for it instead of balking from it, and smiled, eyes wet. “Husband?” Said as a question and an invitation both.

Something in Hades’ chest unraveled; a knot he had been carrying around ever since she left – ever since he had heard her cry out in anguish over their unmoving baby – finally loosening, letting him breathe at last. His hand was shivering against her cheek when he let his thumb gently stroke away the single tear slipping from to the corner of her eye. “Wife,” he breathed, answer and plea in one.

The sound which ripped from Persephone’s throat then was both incredulous laugh and broken sob; before he could worry, she was leaning forward, swaying into him until their brows touched.

The connection was – everything, Hades decided, releasing a breath he had not realized he had been holding. Once more he was enveloped by her, her scent, her warmth, her touch; he had thought he had lost any right to this. His second hand rose to gently cup her other cheek, fearing she would vanish like a dream in the morning light if he did not keep her close. “Persephone.”

“Hades,” she answered his broken plea without a beat of hesitation, her hand cupping his, holding it tight. There were tears in her eyes, only visible because she was so close. “Husband; I missed you so.”

“You should be furious with me…”

“Shhhhh,” her firm headshake nearly knocked their noses together. “We have been angry long enough. We have been hurting long enough. Not now. Please. Let us… let us think about how to be better in the future, but… later. Yes? Not now.”

Who was he to deny her? He did not know if it was the right thing to do, but then it was not his place to decide, either. He would do anything his queen asked of him. Anything, if they could just stay a little longer like this.

And stay they did. For how long, he did not care, and hoped she would not, either. It could have been an eternity but it still felt too soon when Persephone took a deep breath and leaned back, his hands slipping from her face.

He immediately missed her but stayed, waiting for what she had to say; for he did know the cheeky gleam in her eyes still when she considered him from close up and yet too far away, head tilted. “Persephone?”

“Not in a hurry to get back to your paperwork?”

He snorted loudly without a thought, the notion too ridiculous to take it seriously for even a second. Only after did he register the mirth dancing in her green eyes, the smile twitching at the corner of her lips. It all seemed so familiar, quite suddenly, but why…?

Oh. Oh.

The realization was sweet and warm like the ambrosia he pretended to hate so much.

An eternity ago, this question had been a secret joke between them – a relic from old times where they were still so familiar which each other that she could tease him with the question without fearing his ire, and when he could tease right back without feeling like a clumsy fool.

She still remembered that. She thought it time to bring that old familiarity back. The thought filled him with a warm to battle even Demeter’s harshest winter.

What had been his answer, back then? Right. Something along the lines of…

“Why, always,” he rumbled, making sure to draw the syllables out as if in consideration, “but I can make time for you.”

Pure delight lit up on Persephone’s face then and she laughed, heartily and happily, warmer than the sunlight around them. It prompted an answering smile from him, the kind of which he barely even remembered anymore. She was beautiful, his queen; now more so then ever, since he had her back. He would have loved to…

He was reaching for her before he could think better of it, now more sure of his welcome than before. Yet once his fingers were trailing along her jaw, he hesitated. Was this too fast?

“My queen,” Hades murmured, waiting until her eyes were on him before he let his gaze drop to her smiling lips. “May I…?”

She understood, of course she did. She understood, and instead of rejecting him, Persephone only laughed quietly and made the decision for him – something he would have not permitted, never again, had it been anyone else but her. Before he could even blink, she was rushing forward, arms settling around his shoulders securely, and lips crashing into his to kiss him with a ferocity and passion no god or mortal would have expected of the goddess of spring, except perhaps her husband. And a good thing indeed that he did, for it made him spring into action the moment their lips meet, readily welcoming her back into his arms and steadying them before she could topple the both of them.

Back home, Hades thought, blurrily, as the world fell away around them, everything but their joy, their longing and their love ceasing to exist. He was back home.

And for the first time ever, he actually felt like thanking the Fates for his lot in life.

#hades game #hades #persephone #persephone hades game #supergiant hades #rex101111

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sombreboy · 5 years ago

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Dare | yandere!jjk

▎ sfw ▎ xtremity; 1 ▎ pairing: jjk x female reader ▎ word count: 1.6k

Y/N kisses Jungkook for a dare, but he takes it seriously.

''I dare you to kiss Jungkook.''

You laugh dismissively at the comment, putting a strand of your hair behind your ear,

''Seriously, Taehyung? Why would I do that?''

Your roommate smiles at you with a shit eating grin, he's always up to no good with his stupid dares. This has been a game that the two of you have kept at for years for shits and giggles, and with time they became more and more ridiculous.

More and more interesting.

''Because, Y/N,'' He pauses as he takes a bite from his burger, a food he'd never be able to have enough of apparently. How he hasn't suffered from a heart attack yet is an enigma to you, considering all the grease he consumed on a daily basis, ''It'll be the most hilarious dare.''

You scrunch your nose at him, looking at him for a moment. The two of you remain eyecontact for mere seconds before breaking out into a fit of laughter, and he continues,

''Seriously, I dare you to kiss him. On the lips and everything! He's your best friend, isn't he? He can take a joke!''

You ponder no longer, nodding with a mischievious smile now pulling at your own lips,

''Challenge accepted, then.''

Later that evening you went out with all of your friends, including Jungkook, to some random college party that seems to be happening more often than not. This time, Jimin had suggested for everyone to come as this was gonna be at one of the wealthier kids' grand apartment. Most likely paid for by the parents, no one else our age would've been able to afford something like this.

Jimin and Hoseok lead the group, followed by you with Jungkook & Taehyung on each side. Behind you, keeping a certain distance were Namjoon, Seokjin & Yoongi.

While finally inside, the group slowly disbanded to find drinks and mingle in their own way, and you idly stood by a wall in the living room, still between Jungkook and Taehyung.

''Remind me once more, why we're here again.'' Jungkook whines as he glances over at you with his arms crossed over his chest.

You smile, feeling the nudge of Taehyung's elbow in your side,

''Because Jimin didn't want to go alone.''

Jungkook scoffs, ''He needed all seven of us for that?... You know what, Jimin probably would, huh...''

Taehyung chimes in with a deep laugh of his own, placing a hand on your shoulder as he looks at the two of you,

''I'm gonna go get us some drinks. Any requests?''

You shrug, ''Surprise me.''

Jungkook mirrors your shrug, ''I don't really care. Beer?''

Taehyung nods, squeezing your shoulder once before raising his eyebrows up and down, and in the same moment he turns on his heels and strides towards the kitchen.

Jungkook clenched his jaw. He definitely noticed the way Taehyung had kept close to you the whole way here. Too close. And now he touched you so casually. He couldn't help but feel like something was going on. Now, you weren't anybody's... technically, but that doesn't mean it doesn't bother Jungkook immensely.

While Jungkook is in his own thoughts, tongue rolling on the inside of his cheek as he taps his shoe against the floor as a way of releasing pent up energy, you glance over at Taehyung who's standing in the kitchen, keeping an eye on you and JK.

Taehyung lifts his palm up before kissing it, a gesture pointed towards you to go through with the dare from earlier. A big, boxy smile on his lips as he sees the way your lips pull up in mischief.

''Jungkook.''

You calling out his name snaps him out of his thoughts, turning his head to look at you. He wasn't even able to register the next few seconds as you closed the distance between the two of you, standing on your tiptoes to place your lips on his in a soft kiss. Your lips lingered longer than you'd intended before withdrawing.

Jungkook stood still, completely frozen in place with his eyes blown wide. You noticed his reaction, and quickly placed your hands on his shoulder,

''Jungkook? Are you alright?''

He locks eyes with you, his expression softening slightly at your voice before licking his lips nervously,

''Y-yes, I just... Uh... Why..Why...uh–''

You shake your head and smile widely, Taehyung quickly coming back with your drinks as he hands them out to the two of you,

''A kissing party, huh?''

You grab your drink as you giggle with Taehyung,

''And you're not invited!''

Jungkook shifted his weight on his feet, eyes flickering between you and his drink before drinking it way too quickly. He wanted to ask again about the kiss, but he couldn't. The group slowly came back together, and he thought nobody saw. Maybe you didn't want to talk about it. Was it all a reaction of the moment?

Maybe she likes me?

Of course, she must like me, or she wouldn't have kissed me.

Jungkook stayed within his thoughts throughout the night, keeping his eyes fixed on you. From time to time you'd smile at him, and after the kiss, it made his heart race a hundred times faster than it had ever done around you. A feeling within him he didn't know he was capable of feeling erupted within his chest.

Is this what falling in love is like?

This incredible urge to protect you. Be Close to you. Be yours.

But with it, came another new emotion.

Jealousy. Jealousy? Perhaps.

All he knew was, that he loved when you smiled at him, and absolutely despised when that smile was directed at anybody else.

The night was young, and everyone was drunk. It was a typical weekend night, and everyone was having a great time

Except Jungkook. He was still tormented by his immense emotions, it was all so strong. But as you became more intoxicated, you also became easier to deal with.

''Jungkook-iiiieee~'' You found him sitting down in the living-room couch, quickly seating yourself next to him and leaning against him. He tensed up for a second before relaxing again, thanking the alcohol in his system.

''Y/N, h-hey.''

''Are you having fun, Kookie? I'm getting tired, we should leave soon.''

He looks down at you with a smile, ''Want me to take you home? I'm sure the others will be fine.''

You nod, ''Let me check with Taetae if he wants to come with.''

You got up, strolling over to your roommate to talk to him. Jungkook's eye twitched at the sight, clenching his jaw. What do you mean 'Taetae'? Why'd you want him to come with? He's a grown man, you don't have to care about him.

''I'm gonna go home, Jungkook's gonna take me. Do you wanna come with?''

Taehyung cocks an eyebrow at you, ''Do you want me to?''

His suggestive question had you blushing slightly, shaking your head,

''In your Dreams. Seriously, though, I'm leaving, so....''

''Do you think JK is okay?''

You look up at Tae again, tilting your head to the side, ''What do you mean?''

Taehyung sighs, ''Ever since you kissed him he seems a little off, honestly. I'm surprised you didn't notice.''

You shrug, ''He seems fine.''

Tae gives you a light slap on your ass to urge you to walk back to Jungkook,

''If you say so, Y/N.''

You stop by the door to your apartment before turning to Jungkook, a small smile on your lips.

''Thank you for walking me home, Kookie.''

Jungkook looks down at the floor for a moment with a shy smile on his lips. This felt just like a Movie to him. His heart was swelling with the way you said his nickname... Kookie.

''It's no problem...'' He whispers out when he fixes his gaze on you.

Beautiful.

He wants you.

He takes a step closer to you, and you furrow your eyebrows.

''Jungkoo-''

Before you could speak any further, he'd placed one hand on your waist to pull you in, and the other behind your neck. He crashed his lips against yours, this time on his own accord.

Your eyes widen at the sudden momentum, just now registering that he's kissing you. But you don't pull away.

You kissed him back.

This time for real.

But he was never aware that the first time was simply a dare.

He pulls away from the kiss, hands still on you as he gazes down at you with blown out pupils,

''Y/N, I love you.''

''W-wait, wait, what?''

Jungkook doesn't hear you, simply smiles as the grip on your waist tightens,

''I knew you loved me too. Now we can finally be together.''

''Jungkook, what are you talking about?''

He tilts his head to the side, ''What do you mean?''

''Why do you think that I love you?''

He laughed, as if offended, ''Are you serious? You kissed me...''

Without thinking, you spat out the truth,

''It was a dare...''

His eye twitched, not quite registering your Words,

''I don't understand.''

You reach up to smooth your palm over Jungkook's cheek,

''Taehyung dared me to kiss you, it was just for fun. You get that, don't you?''

You smiled, but he didn't.

''I don't believe you. You wouldn't have accepted it if you didn't want to do it.''

You frown, now stepping away from him to open your door. Before walking in, you look back at him,

''Goodnight, Kookie. Thank you for walking me home.''

As the door clicked shut, Jungkook stood frozen in place once more. The muscles in his arms flexed underneath the fabrics, his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek.

''You love me, Y/N..''

He turned on his heels to walk back home, thoughts whirling in his head as he kept whispering to himself,

''You love me, or you wouldn't have kissed me.''

#yandere jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #jungkook x reader #jungkook x yn #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

Jughead//i didn’t wanna fall, but then i stepped right in

Request: If you're request are open/not swamped can i request a Jughead/Reader with the song Cliché- mxmtoon maybe you meet at his "birthday party" or something similar, tbh something like fluffy/soft would be super nice plot wise :D

hey! this is another one that i wrote like last year or something so the writing style maybe seem a little different than usual. i still hope you like it though!! have a great day all!!!

“Y/n!” Veronica greets you from across the living room. “You came!”

“I did!” You smile brightly at her and hold up a pack of beer.

“Wow, classy.” She laughs and pulls you into a quick hug. “Give it to Archie, he’ll put it in the kitchen. Won’t you Archiekins.” She smiles sweetly at Archie who walks past the two of you and he sends the two of you a confused smile.

“Sure?” He asks, unsure of what she was referring to.

“Put the beer in the kitchen.”

“Right.” He smiles at her and you give him the beer.

“And get us both a drink please.”

“Of course.” He smiles.

“So when’s he getting here?” You ask Veronica and look around the living room. So far, you are yet to meet the famous Jughead. You’ve only just moved from New York, joining your friend Veronica in Riverdale after your parents decided to move. As soon as she found out you were moving here, she’d talked about her new friends constantly and not just her friends, but also boys...but there’s no surprise there. Apparently the boys in Riverdale were hotter than the one’s in New York, something you were yet to believe, despite being here for a week. So thats how you were invited to a birthday party of someone you’d never met.

“He’ll be here soon.” Betty joins your conversation. “He text Archie telling him that he’s on his way.” She adds. “He thinks they’re just hanging out.”

“Oh.” You nod. “Clever. I need to pee, where’s the bathroom?” You ask.

“Up the stairs, down the hall and its the first door you see.”

“Thanks.”

“He’s here!” A boy shouts and the lights quickly turn off, everyone moves a few steps back just before the door swings open.

“Y/n isn’t here.” Veronica whispers to Betty and the two of them quickly glance around the darkened room.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” She replies.

“Shhhhh.” Kevin shushes them both.

“Archi-” Jughead calls out but he’s cut off.

“Surprise!!” Everyone shouts and he jumps slightly.

“What the-”

“Happy birthday!” Archie hugs him and he smiles awkwardly before sending a small wave to a few people. Someone turns the lights and music back on while other people mingle and talk to Jughead.

“Shit.” You say loudly, once you reach the bottom of the stairs. “Did I miss it?” You asks and Veronica giggles while nodding.

“Kinda.” She replies. “But thats okay.”

“Damn.” You mutter, looking around the room and thats when you see him. The beanie clad boy that you’d only ever seen in pictures. Fuck, he’s looking right at you. Your eyes widen when you realize you’re staring at him and you quickly avert your eyes, deciding to join in the conversation happening beside you. “Surprise parties...am I right?” You say and the group of girls look at you offended.

“We’re talking about her grandmothers funeral.”

“Oh, shit. Sorry.” You apologize. The three of them stare at you until you walk away, muttering another quickly apology as you go. “Not much of a party topic.” You mumble to yourself while you try and find Veronica. How did you ever survive in New York? The only thing you did there was go to parties. How’d you manage to upset someone after only being at the party for 15 minutes?

After searching for a few minutes, you conclude that Veronica, as well as Archie are no where to be seen and Betty had gone to talk to the people you’d just upset so that wasn’t an option. Pushing through the small crowd you look around the living room one more time. Again you lock eyes with Jughead causing your cheeks to burn before you quickly look back down at the floor. He’s even cuter the second time round and so after a few minutes of trying to get rid of the blush on your cheeks, you send him a small smile before walking into the kitchen and leaning against the counter.

A few minutes later you hear someone walk in and so you decided to busy yourself instead of just staring out into nothing. While you search through the fridge you listen to the end of the conversation and once you hear them say goodbye you decide its safe to look up. Jughead is stood a few feet away from you staring at his phone. You quickly close the fridge and start to walk out as quietly as possible, buts its too late. He’s already noticed you, his lips quirking into a smile as he tilts his head to the side, a curious expression gracing his features as he looks you up and down.

“Hey.” He smiles at you, waving softly.

“He-hello.” You stutter and your cheeks start to heat up again.

“Y/n?” He asks and you shake your head. “Are you okay? You kinda just stopped at hello and then stared at me.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry. I was meant to say happy birthday.”

“Thanks.” He replies and pours himself a drink. “Do you want one?” He asks and you shake your head.

“I’m good.” You show him the drink in your hand and he nods.

“Thats a bottle of milk.” He raises and eyebrow and you look between him and the bottle in your hand, a confused expression gracing your features.

“I was meant to get that.” You reply slowly making him chuckle. “So what are you doing in here? Shouldn’t you be out there?”

“I’m hiding. Birthday’s aren’t really my thing.” He says, the last part seeming sadder than he probably intended to.

“Oh.”

“Anyway.” He grins. “Do you wanna dance?”

“You want to dance with me?”

“I don’t see anybody else in the kitchen. Do you?” He motions around the room and you shake your head. “Lets go then.Maybe you can make my birthday a bit better.” He says and your eyes widened. “Oh God. I didn’t mean like that.” He blushes and you laugh softly.

“Its fine.” You shake your head. “Lets dance.”

--------

Ever since the two of you danced, you and Jughead had been practically inseparable. You don’t remember much from the night of the party apart from the dancing and then the hangover as you woke up in Veronica’s bed, but from the vague memories you do have, you know you had fun.

Over the last few days you’d been constantly texting, whether you were in class, at home, hanging out with friends, sometimes when you were sat right next to each other. And with every single word you seemed to fall further and further for him.

He was witty and charming and cute and hot and basically everything you could have wanted.

“Its like he’s swept you off your feet.” Veronica laughs and you look at her confused. The two of you are sat in Pops’ waiting for the rest of the gang to turn up.

“Jughead. You’re in love with him and you’ve only known him a few days.”

“He makes me laugh.” You defend.

“And blush.” She adds and you rolls your eyes.

“Who?” Betty asks while sitting beside Veronica.

“Jughead.” She replies, sending a knowing look in your direction.

“You’re all he’s talked about for the past three days.”

“Same with her.”

“Literally, even at the party. She went to pee and he talked about how amazing she was.”

“You do know I’m sat right here.”

“We know.” They smile at you.

“What are you two smiling like that for?” Archie asks and sits beside you.

“Because Y/n is in love with Jughead and they’ve only known each other for a less than week.”

“Oooo.” He teases. “No one can compete.”

“Huh?” The three of you ask confused.

“That’s what Jughead said about her.”

“Awwwww.” They tease.

“What if its too good to be true?” Veronica says, repeating the words you’d said to her earlier. “Its like we click like lego.” She adds, despite you kicking her in the shin.

“Or the clacking of tap shoes.” Archie adds.

“I want to be with yo-Hi Jughead.” Betty trails off and the four of you quickly shut up.

“Hey.” Jughead waves confused. “Have we ordered yet?”

“Yeah. It should be done soon, me and Ronnie ordered when we got here.” You explain and he smiles warmly at you. “Don’t worry, I got your favourite.”

“Cool.” He says and looks around for a seat to pull up.

“Don’t worry.” Archie stands up quickly. “Sit here, I’ll find a seat.” He sends you a wink and you roll your eyes at him before he wanders away, bring a chair back. Your foods brought out a couple minutes later and the five of you eat in silence.

“So” Jughead is the first to break it, Archie, Veronica and Betty starting their own conversation while you and Jughead talk. “How’s your day been?” He asks and sips his milkshake.

“Better now.” You reply with a smile and look down at your food. He giggles and agrees with you before he steals a fry. “Hey!” You laugh loudly and throw a few more at him. The two of you end up in a mini food fight while your other three friends just stare at you.

“You’s are a walking cliche.” Veronica rolls her eyes teasingly.

“Shut up Ronnie.” You glare at her.

“Yeah, shut up Veronica.” Jughead adds. “Talking to you has made my day.” He whispers in your ear making you blush fiercely.

“Mine too.” You reply and he smiles softly. You look at him, his smile mirroring yours and you melt at the way he’s looking at you. Maybe Veronica was right. Maybe you were a cliche.

But cliche’s never work out right?

----

“Why haven’t you been talking to Jughead?” Archie catches up with you in the corridor while you’re walking to your next class.

“I’ve just been busy.” You shrug.

“What happened to clicking like legos?” He asks and you roll your eyes.

“Its just a cliche.” You reply. “I don’t wanna be a cliche. Its not real.”

“But it was.” He argues.

“It wasn’t.” You say before storming off.

----

“Hey.” Jughead’s voice makes you jump as you look up from the menu.

“Hello.” You reply and place it on the table. “You’re not Veronica.”

“Not the last time I checked.” He jokes and you laugh softly. “Listen.” He starts while sitting opposite you. Your milkshake is brought to the table and there’s two straws in it making you laugh softly.

“This is such a cliche.” You mutter.

“I have to know. Do you feel the same way I do?” The boldness of his questions takes you back and you stare at him confused. But he doesn’t look nervous, he’s confident as he stares at you, his eyebrow raises as he waits for your answer and you know there’s no way you can lie to yourself or anyone else any longer.

“Yeah.” You say quietly. “I do, but I was scared of what you might say...”

“Me too.” He admits. A strange silence settles over the two of you, neither of you knowing what to say. But as soon as you make eye contact again, you burst into laugher and he quickly follows. “I still think you’re cute.”

“Me too.” You nod. “We both fell way to fast for any normal people.”

“We’re a cliche aren’t we?” He asks.

“Just a little.” You nod.

“Thats okay.” He takes a sip of your milkshake before pushing it towards you.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.” You smile brightly at him and take a small drink before pushing it back at him. He leans across the table and you meet him half way, his lips capturing yours in a sweet kiss. However it doesn’t last very long before you pull away and gasp. He looks at you confused as to why you pulled away so quickly and then he realizes...its because there’s milkshake down your chest.

“Here.” He hands you some napkins and tries to dab at the stains. “Sorry.” He mumbles when he realizes he’s practically gotten to second base with you.

“Its fine.” You laugh.

“Are we always going to be like this?” He asks.

“I think so yeah.” You nod.

“One silly cliche after the other?” He wonders. Both of you know the answer, but neither of you really mind.

Maybe some cliche’s work after all

#jughead #jughead imagine #jughead x reader #jughead x you #riverdale #riverdale imagine #jughead jones #jughead jones imagine #jughead jones x reader #jughead jones x you

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purplebass · 4 years ago

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Lose my breath // Blackdale

Hey! I know I have a few requests in my inbox for other ships and characters, but I felt like writing Blackdale once again this week. This is a *sorta* Halloween-themed fanfic.

Couple/Characters: Blackdale, Jesse Blackthorn and Lucie Herondale Rating: T

Halloween. Yet another mundane holiday that shadowhunters celebrated. It was Matthew who had insisted, saying that he read on a newspaper that it was fun to throw parties and dress as witches, zombies, or vampires. Or ghosts. Lucie wasn’t against the idea of celebrating it, but the truth was that this day reminded her too much of someone. And now, as she sipped orange juice by the fire of the ballroom of the Institute, she regretted coming. Everyone seemed to be having fun, at least. Some were dancing, others were drinking light stuff. There weren’t just the youngest shadowhunters, but also their parents, which were treating the event as a simple break from every day activities and had no clue what they were celebrating.

Lucie was bored. She believed this event would have provided her with new inspiration for her story, but she had been wrong. She saw Cordelia dancing with James, and she kind of envied the couple. Even if their engagement was just a sham and James turned into a shadow sometimes, he was alive. Cordelia could still hold his hand or touch his hair.

Lucie put the empty glass on a table nearby. She was fed up with the party, and she needed a break. She didn’t want to go to her room. It would mean that she was completely done with the celebration, and she intended to go back in after a few minutes. She needed somewhere else. She thought about the drawing room, but it was on a different floor. Right, the music room, she decided in the end.

No one really went to that room besides her father. Lucie couldn’t play any instrument, but she had to admit that this place was perfect to brainstorm new ideas and to hide from people. Not that she wanted to hide from anybody, in her own house, but…

Her eyes caught the violin case sitting on a table on a velvet cloth. It would be nice if she knew how to play something, but maybe not the violin. No, it seemed too hard, and she didn’t have the time. Plus, her neck was already tight because of the hours spent on her writing machine. She glanced at the grand piano, and walked towards it. Her brother James had learnt how to play it, even though he didn’t touch it anymore. Perhaps he could teach her.

Despite not being used, the piano wasn’t dusty. Lucie touched the black polished wood, then her fingers pressed two keys. She laughed, because she knew she couldn’t play anything, but decided to sit down on the soft bench in front of the piano anyway. She cleared her voice and then started intoning a typical Welsh song. It was the first song that came to her mind when she started pressing her fingers on the keys.

Lucie knew how to sing, at least. Or that was what her father often said when they sang Welsh songs together. But who cared, anyway? She was alone, completely and utterly alone. She stopped touching the piano at some point, but kept singing until the song was over. And then someone clapped.

She gasped, and turned towards the door to see who was the intruder. “Jesse?”

He smiled. “Good evening, Lucie.”

He walked towards the piano, but he didn’t get too close. Lucie craved for his presence while in the ballroom, and she didn’t mind he was keeping his distance. She already appreciated his presence. But she hoped he would cut the distance and she would be able to stare in his green eyes directly. She gazed up at him.

“There is something wrong with you, tonight,” she declared, frowning. She tilted her head and observed him from head to toe. She hoped she didn’t look weird, but she thought she wasn’t doing anything wrong.

Jesse shrugged, as if he didn’t know what to say or was bored. “That’s a nice way to greet me,” he snorted.

“I don’t think I’ve offended you,” her nose crinkled, and she rolled her eyes. “I didn’t think you were the touchy type.”

“I didn’t think you as the performer type either,” he countered, advancing until he was a few feet from her.

“You don’t know many things about me. I’m a great singer, and I’ve received a lot of compliments when I once sang in front of a crowd.”

“Your parents and your brother?” he retorted, crossing his arms on his chest.

Her mouth set in a hard line. He didn’t offend her, because it was the truth. “If it’s more than one person it’s a crowd,” she replied with bitterness.

“You weren’t tone-deaf, at least.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Your voice was silvery, Lucie.”

Lucie tried to keep her face neutral, but she wanted to smile. “See, it doesn’t cost much to be nice,” she said, pressing her lips together.

She heard Jesse’s footsteps, and he sat down next to her on the bench before she could object. He hadn’t asked if he could do it, but she didn’t mind. They were alone, and she also believed they were comfortable around each other. Why was she thinking about all of this now? Jesse was sitting by her side! She stared at him. He was staring at the piano before them.

“You may have a nice voice,” he began, turning his head to focus on her, “but you don’t know how to play.”

There it was again. The snark. “Can you refrain from commenting on my skills for five minutes?”

“It’s not about your skills. It’s facts.”

She sighed and scowled at him. “I may not know how to play an instrument, but the question is: do you?”

“Of course, I do,” he replied with a smirk. “I may not have lived much time, but I definitely know how to play.”

Lucie rolled her eyes. “I’m glad for you,” her lips drew back in a snarl, and she looked away.

“Want me to teach you a simple song?”

“What?” she didn’t mean to be loud, but her voice rose an octave when she uttered the question. She covered her mouth quickly, and glanced at him. He was grinning. “Okay,” she agreed.

He seemed satisfied of her answer. “Put your hands on these keys,” he pointed at them, and Lucie obeyed. “Now press this and then this for five times.”

She didn’t know if she would do it right, but she tried. He explained her which keys she should press, and how much, for how many times. After a few minutes of practice, she could finally hear some progress. It wasn’t perfect, but it was there. There was just a point where she always mistook the keys. “I never get this right,” she lamented with a pout.

“Want to do it with me?” he asked her, and she nodded, believing that they would do it on their own side of the keyboard. So, when Jesse put his hands on hers, she shivered. Her heart started racing as he adjusted his bigger hands on her dainty ones. Strangely, they were warm. They tried the melody once, twice, and she kept on making the same mistake. She didn’t know if he knew that she was on edge because he was almost holding her hands. He had been nothing but patient with her, and had tried to give her good advice on how to avoid the mistakes she was making.

The third time they tried, something went wrong. As they moved their hands on the keys, someone decided it was time to come and watch the performance.

“By the angel!” Lucie screamed, and grabbed Jesse’s arm as a small spider came out of one of the keys.

Once it went away, she glanced at her hand clutched on his white shirt. He was staring at her, with an unreadable expression on his face. She didn’t know what expression she was displaying, but she thought she must seem scared.

“Lucie,” he murmured.

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

She instantly sobered up. She knew the answer to that question, yet she waited a few seconds before nodding her head and accepting his request.

Jesse placed his hand behind her neck and guided her face towards his, until their lips met. Lucie didn’t know what to do, since she had never been kissed, and she let him guide her through it all, until she understood what to do. He wasn’t imposing. On the other hand, he was gentle, and he was giving her time to adjust. Lucie thought his lips were soft, and she would have kept on tasting them if she hadn’t been out of air.

She panted for a moment, and sighed. He was panting as well – but wasn’t he dead?!

Her head shot up and she started at him, obviously astonished. Her eyes went wide as saucers, and she stilled. She had just kissed Jesse. How? Although the light in the music room wasn’t splendid, she realized what was different about him tonight. His sleeves weren’t rolled up at the elbow.

Impossible.

“Jesse, but, you –“

“I thought you’d never notice, Lucie.”

“How? How are you… how can I touch you? I thought that you…”

“I have no idea. And I don’t know how long it will last,” he said, as the clock on the wall struck midnight.

Lucie jumped at the sudden sound, and glared at the grandfather clock for having interrupted their moment. Once he turned to Jesse, her jaw dropped. “Jesse, you –“ she pointed at him, or what was left of him.

He looked at himself then. His face didn’t change, but Lucie saw his lip quiver before he schooled his expression back to his melancholic self. “Guess we have our answer.”

“I’m sorry, Jesse,” Lucie replied, and she was truly touched.

He stood up from the bench, or better, he went through it. Lucie stood as well. “I reckon it is time for me to leave.”

“You can stay if you want,” she offered, but she could see the defeat in his eyes. He wanted to go.

He managed a smile. “You have to go back to your celebration.”

“I don’t have to go back to anything.”

“Well, I had a long day. Goodnight, Lucie,” Jesse said, and she didn’t understand what he meant with that. She was about to ask him, but he had already disappeared into thin air, leaving her alone with herself once again.

She had taken a long break from the party, but she didn’t wish to go back to the ballroom. So, she went back to the bench and practiced the song he taught her until she got it right.

She hoped he had listened.

#tsc #tlh #blackdale #jesse blackthorn #lucie herondale #the shadowhunter chronicles #the last hours #chain of gold #chain of iron #chain of thorns #lucie and jesse #tsc fanfiction #tlh fanfic #tweety.writes

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lucarioisinthevoid · 4 years ago

Note

Twitch Streamer AU???

(I planned on pushing out a FEW AU asks, but then realized I don’t even have so many. There’s going to be a FNAC event, but that will be an event, not a specific AU ask, so- I guess this is it! Very cursed AU, thank you very much Anon Small warning for mentions of blood, I think? Nothing too bad.)

Streamers, youtubers, content creators. Some people are all of these, some people are none, and some are just one- because each of them needed a very different talent. Those who could do seemingly everything were few and far between- And they ruled the entertainment scene! Thankfully though, the main three as most called them, were also always out for new content to watch. Thus they boosted those that they saw potential in. With some taking the boost and then going off to do their own thing- And some becoming good friends. It always started with a letter. Mike had the habit to do things on stream, as long as no personal details were not visible on them. He used a false email which he regularly changed, and he generally kept himself as safe as possible. Opening emails on stream could be rather fun, even if it was a risk. Sometimes it encouraged people to send bad things- So to prevent the worst, nothing would be downloaded and all emails containing images would be put into the spam bin. Better safe than sorry, the internet was full of terrible people. This day so far had been successful. And by successful it meant that Mike was SCREAMING. “I HATE SUPER MEAT BOY. I WILL COMMIT VIOLENCE AGAINST MEAT IN A MINUTE. I HAVE A BIG F-CKING STEAK IN THE KITCHEN, AND I WILL THROW IT AGAINST THE F_CKING WALL. I WILL GET A HAMMER.” The chat was going wild, cheering. The chat’s phrase of today was “tender Mikey” and it didn’t help at all. “I DID. NOT. HIT THAT! I DID NOT!” A donation popped up, with a robotic voice. ‘Oh hai Mark!’ “NOT FUNNY! NOT F-CKING FUNNY. I’M SUFFERING HERE AND ALL OF YOU SUPPORT IT. YOU’RE ALL F-CKING MONSTERS HERE, I HOPE YOU KNOW THAT. AND I’M NOT F-CKING TENDERIZING THE MEAT WHEN I SLAP IT AROUND, I’LL RIP IT INTO PIECES AND CONSUME IT RAW!” Standing up, he genuinely went to get it- And fifteen minute later he had slightly calmed down, his hands and room slightly bloody. The chat was still celebrating and donating- another thing that never failed to make Mike BEG them to stop and use the money for something GOOD and SENSIBLE, LIKE THEM-FUCKING-SELF- but he had gotten out most of the energy. “Alright. Alright everyone. ENOUGH. I gotta stop you HERE. It’s email time.” A celebratory jingle played, as Mike booted up the website, opening the inbox. Memes, storytime, I’m-not-fucking-reading-that-and-you-know-it, and- One of the emails caught his- and the chat’s- attention, however. Sender: Fazbear Entertainment Topic: Challenge Needless to say- once again the chat was out of control and this time there was NOTHING Mike could do to stop them. After opening the email, Mike slowly took a deep breath and looked into the camera, between concerned and honored- But that wouldn’t be enough to rip him from his carefully maintained persona. So he audible scoffed- albeit him being unable to hide an excited grin. “Alright bitches and bastards in the audience- we’re firing SuperMeatBoy up again. You won’t be catching ME losing to a pink son of a bitch anytime soon!” After the letter- provided it was accepted and responded to, the production happened. The deal was that a teaser was dropped on the big channel- The entire video itself was put on the smaller one, attracting the viewers over and hopefully make them more likely to want to see the other works the creator had put out. It was a win-win overall, the big channel being able to vary their content, testing the water for new things- and the smaller channel getting a boost and a lot of tips from very experienced creators. Henry and Dave were very generous people. Jeremy was sitting there, taking deep breaths, trying to stay calm. So far, everyone seemed to be rather kind, even if Jeremy was basically a complete nobody. Hell, he never wanted to be anybody. He just wanted to stream himself baking, for those who never had someone baking with them. Because baking could feel stressful, especially when you were missing ingredients or- many reasons, actually. Not only baking, but cooking too- Sometimes playing games on request, but not much in terms of requests ever came in. And now he was here in an actual studio, soon to be seen by an insane amount of people. A cooking competition. Sounded silly- you couldn’t really FIGHT in something like that… But… Henry and Dave had promised it would be fun. And they were nice. With and without the cameras rolling. Speaking off- There they were, approaching, their assistant coming along. He wore a weird phone-head, to ensure his privacy. Or something. It was kinda weird, but he had just accepted the answer he got. “Why, there you are, Jeremy! Would you like to see the equipment we have prepared?” Henry warmly asked, reaching down with his hand to help his guest stand up. “We have gotten a few extra things, just in case.” As they entered the studio, Jeremy’s invisible eyes went WIDE. “Woah- that looks really nice! I love it here! This is high quality stuff-!” “Fantastic!” Pleased Henry opened his arms in his typical theatrical manner- Before being abruptly interrupted by Dave jumping in, halfway over Henry’s shoulder. “ARE YA READY TO GO!? CAMERAS ARE READY!” “Ah- I- I guess- but-“ “YOU HEARD HIM, BOYS! GET IT ROLLIN’!” “W-wait, I don’t even have-“ “Everyone! Welcome to NOTHIN’ AT ALL!” Henry swiftly fitted in, continuing on with the intro. “Todays challenger is the man, the legend, the baker and occasional chef- Jeremy from Baking With Jeremy!” “Wait, what- that’s seriously your channel name, pal?” A bit offended Jeremy looked into the eyes of the people behind the camera. “U-uh- you guys here- I mean- he has literally called his channel Henry Miller! I- uhm- I-“ Snickering Henry put a hand on his guest’s shoulder. “You are very right about that. Say, are you nervous about losing?” “… n-no. I mean- maybe a little. This place here is big and very professional and I’m not used to many people looking at me…” Taking a deep breath, he gave off a nervous smile for the audience. “… yet, I know- it’s a good thing! And as long as everyone has fun, everything will work out!” “Awwwww, look at him!” Dave said, pleased. “You’re so right! We’ll be havin’ fun!” “But also, I will win.” Henry pointed out. “That is when I have the most fun.” Slightly playful Jeremy smiled. “K-keep that attitude, that will make it even easier to blindside you!” Simon whistled, clearly bemused as he held the camera in place- And Henry smirked. “Sure. Anyhow, the stakes are-“ “Steaks? We’re makin’ steaks? I thought we planned on-“ “Dave. I swear to god.” Henry looked at him from the side, before shaking his head. “What is on the line is easy to see- we have roughly an hour to cook the best meal. If Jeremy wins, we will donate 5000 to a charity of his choice!” “And if the young pal loses, he’ll be joinin’ our channel!” Dave chirped. This was news to the brown-haired boy. “W-wait, we never agreed to that-“ “GET TO YOUR STATIONS!” Someone in the back announced. “WHO’S TODAYS FAVORITE?” Simon checked the stream. “The chat says Jeremy is a clear winner. Nobody trusts Henry to keep his two braincells together for long enough to not forget the salt or something.” “Excuse?!” Not only Henry was APPALLED by the chat, Dave joined right in. “Ya guys have NO taste. I’ll be clearly winnin’… but hey, maybe ya peeps don’t know that I plan to cheat!” Surprised Jerry looked over to Dave’s cooking station. “How… how can you cheat at cooking-“ Before he could finish his sentence, he shrieked as Dave pulled out a flamethrower. “HELL YEAH BABY, I AIN’T WAITING 30 MINUTES FOR SOMETHING TO COOK IN THE OVEN, I’LL BE DONE IN FIFTEEN MINUTES MAX!” “W-WAIT THAT DOESN’T SEEM SAVE-“ Henry just raised his hands, cheerful. “Ready… set…” The Phone Guy made eye- well, rotary- contact with Jeremy, slightly raising a fire extinguisher that was by his side. … alright, it seemed the people here were well-prepared for this scenario. So instead he focused on the ingredients in front of him. Almost manic, Henry’s voice rang. “GO!” And… … that was it! Some joined, with amazing results- Mike rubbed his face. “Who thought that was a great idea. I fucking hate this.” Dave next to him on the couch just grinned. “It’s amazin’ what these websites all offer to sell. You won’t be BELIEVIN’ what’s in this box!” “I’M NOT OPENING IT.” “YOU WILL. OTHERWISE IT’LL HUNT YOUR DREAMS. I’LL PUT THIS BOX NEXT TO YOUR BED. YOUR TOILET. ONTO YOUR DINNER TABLE. INTO THE FRIDGE. I’LL ORDER MORE OF THESE BOXES.” “Jesus CHRIST, calm DOWN-“ “I WILL FIGHT YA TO THE DEATH OLD PAL-“ - and some people just went back to the usual pattern, with the occasional raid from Fazbear Entertainment. They asked first, of course. Each of them fulfilled their own niche, each of them had caught Henry’s and Dave’s attention in one way or another. Henry and Dave however- Well, Dave was the varied creator. Henry liked his niche. He played horror, investigated ARGs, read stories about real and fictional crimes against humanity. The world was a terrible place, wasn’t it? Yet he reveled in it. Aside from that he showed extra effects, he built machines and thought everyone one or another thing about creating special effects at home. From dry ice to genuinely ridiculous chain-reactions, Henry showed them it all. Blood too, multiple forms of it, depending on how and where it would be used. Sometimes breaking it off with more light-hearted one-off games and listening to what his community wanted to see… but the most comfortable he was with horror and analysis. He was a youtuber, a streamer, a content creator… … and one thing more. It wasn’t easy to find the code. But his intended audience were a very small amount of people. A small number of strangers. There was no way to know if anyone ever made it to more than one show, but Henry did not care. It wasn’t for them that he did this. Him and William moved down, down below the set, into the lowest regions of the house. The workshop. Nobody really question why you added what to your home if you were a creative person. Even less so if you were a famous, eccentric creator. Yes, the free reign was what he REALLY loved about his job. Maybe he should build his studio somewhere else- But like this it was so much more thrilling! Wordlessly both of them put on their suits. It would hide their identity perfectly- especially the animal heads that contorted their voices a bit. Enough. Today’s participant wore a mask too- another phone head, differently made, different style, but to hide their identity too. However, the voice was in no way muffled. Panicked the person dragged on the chains keeping them attached to the chair. “H-HELLO!? HELLO!? S-SOMEONE- IS SOMEONE HERE!?” A noisy one! Delightful! Both Fredbear and Springbonnie stepped out of the shadows, one form each side. While Springbonnie put his hands gently on the shoulders of the whimpering person, Fredbear stepped in front of the camera, bowing. “Ladies and gentlemen-“ The low voice sounded more like the one of an animal than from a person. Yet it was smooth and comforting. “- I welcome you to yet another installment of our show. I am Fredbear, and over there is my wonderful assistant, Springbonnie. Today we have brought a simple stranger, a nobody who might not even be missed. Thusly I encourage you to truly be creative with your ideas. And while your votes roll in, maybe I point out that next time we will have another little game-show, with quite the effects. We might even get a real bull! You will not want to miss it.” The board above the camera blinked up, as a bitter fight of votes started, everyone wanting to see something else. Three tiers to vote on! Foreplay (light injuries), main course (heavy injury leading to death) and of course what to do with the body. Below it was a little measure for “face reveal”. Some of their viewers really enjoyed seeing the expressions during and after. It came with a risk to Fredbear and Springbonnie, as the victim being recognizable meant their general area of activity was more obvious- thus it was incredibly expensive. They knew there was every now and again law enforcement mixed up between the genuine watchers. It was thrilling too- Yet Fredbear wanted to keep this game alive as long as he could. Thus it was important to hide what they could. Fredbear was a creator first and foremost, an entertainer second- And there was nothing that attracted an HONEST, an UNRESTRAINED, a PURE audience quite like violence. Once blood spilled, humans degraded and it was wonderful. Behind him, the victim began rattling even more erratic. “WHAT- WHAT IS THIS?! LET ME OUT- PLEASE- LET ME OUT- PLEASE- I- DIDN’T DO ANYTHING-“ Burying his hands into the shoulders of Springbonnie downright cackled, enjoying the mania that always accumulated in these situation. “Be still, new friend! The audience HATES too much whining, y’know? And at least you could die with your tongue still intact, wouldn’t that be nicer than having to swallow the thing? Once it almost killed someone, boy, that sure was a bother!” His voice was changed to a cartoonish, upbeat pitch- “While the votes come in, how about we quiz today’s friend… maybe if you are smart enough, they will want you to live! It happened before… o n c e.” Fredbear took out a long scalpel, the face a morbid grimace. “Surprise us!”

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msjr0119 · 4 years ago

Text

The American Adventure

Prologue

A/N: I swear choices is taking over my life, I’m dreaming about TRR characters. We watched ‘The Parent Trap’ last night, and my subconscious dreamt of an alternative version including the Cordonian Gang. So I’ve decided to do this. In my usual series Drake is older than the other characters, however because most camps only go up to the age of 17, they are all 16/17.

Prince Liam and his closest friends are sent to a summer camp in America for a month, whilst in Cordonia the nobles are preparing for Prince Leo’s social season unknowingly to him. During their time there, Liam and Drake become besotted with the same girl- Riley Brooks.

Characters all belong to Pixelberry; apart from Lola Hughes, Bethany Hughes, Nate Cooper, Andy Brooks and Jackie Brooks.

Warnings: Please do not read if you are under 18, if you do you are consenting that you are over this age. If any of the follow trigger warnings affect you please don’t continue to read. Swearing, mention of sex, bad habit- smoking.

Word count: 2,400

Tags- as always for prologues I tag my combined tag list and people who I think will be interested. If you don’t want to be included in further chapters please let me know. I won’t be offended. If you want to be added, again let me know.

@pedudley @kacie-0156 @loveellamae @annekebbphotography @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @bascmve01 @kimmiedoo5 @yukinagato2012 @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @burnsoslow @ladyangel70 @drakewalker04 @axwalker @nikkis1983 @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @cordonianroyalty @custaroonie @seriouslybadchoices @rainbowsinthestorm @princess-geek @jared2612 @desireepow-1986 @twinkle-320 @queenjilian @princessleac1 @bebepac @drakewalkerisreal @ravenpuff02

*****

Liam, enjoy this opportunity with your closest friends. I’ve spoken to the camp director- he is aware of your titles and has promised to treat you all no different. Or to disclose this information- Bastien will be staying on site for extra protection with a few other guards. I’ll see you in a months times, my son.

The youngest prince of the small country, Cordonia- couldn’t imagine what to expect from being at a summer camp for a whole month. For him, it was a month of freedom. Away from the palace. Away from the small amount of royal duties that the Prince’s had to do. Having a good excuse to not attend Royal events with his father the King, and his step Mother the Queen.

Drake Walker, Liam’s best friend was more than happy to leave Cordonia. To leave the noble lifestyle behind. He never fit in anyway. Madeleine and Olivia constantly reminded him of this. Three years ago, he lost his father. Jackson Walker was the head of the King’s guard who lost his life in the line of duty. Summer camp, was everything Drake enjoyed in life. Being outdoors. Camping. Besides it was in the country that his mother was born in. America. He was half American, being here- he should feel right at home.

Maxwell Beaumont, the spare heir. The fun brother. The outgoing one. You could take him to Timbuktu and somehow he would be enthusiastic- making the most out of it. He was feeling excited about attending a summer camp, most of the time his older brother Bertrand would be ashamed of him. Criticising him, for even breathing. This was a break that he was looking forward to, without the lectures about being etiquette- especially when it included forks.

Olivia Nevrakis- this girl never held back. You annoy her, she would openly insult you. Drake Walker should know this. Not wanting to attend this break from Cordonia, she had no choice. King Constantine practically gave her no option but to go. As much as Olivia tried to fight against it, it did mean that she got to spend time with her closest friend, Liam. When they was younger, she would follow him around like a lost puppy. Now they were older, she had grown feelings towards him. But she wouldn’t tell him, not yet anyway.

Madeleine Amaranth- the epitome of prim and proper. The true definition of a well raised noble for court life. She was fully aware of the description of a summer camp. However, she knew that she wouldn’t abide by the timetables that they would strictly provide. Madeleine was cunning, she knew how to get her own way, and she was fully intending on using this to her advantage.

****

Breathing in the fresh air, Andy and Jackie Brooks enjoyed this day every year. Yes, they enjoyed the traditional American holidays such as Thanksgiving and The Forth of July- but this was the day that summer camp started. This was where their love story began. The camp had been run by his family for many decades. Jackie came one year, and Andy was immediately attracted to her. Every year since then, he had hoped that she would attend - which she did. They were childhood sweethearts- both losing their virginities to each other. As soon as Jackie was old enough, she moved to New York to be closer to Andy. They were soon married, and raised two daughters; Lindsey and Riley.

“Now I can trust that you all will make everyone feel welcome, encourage them to participate in the activities. After all, I am paying you all a small wage. Enjoy yourselves even though you are all working.” The director of Camp Beaver Brooks said to the teenagers. For the last couple of years he had enlisted his children and their friends for this extra support to keep the camp running.

“Yes, Father. We will go over to the registration hut and help everyone get settled in.” Pulling his youngest daughter into his embrace, he held her tightly- knowing that she wouldn’t let him down. Out of the two sisters, Riley was a hard worker. Always pushing herself further. Always up for a challenge. Never letting anyone get in her way to achieve her ambitions.

“Thank you, Riley. I love you, sweetheart.”

****

Riley, Lola, Beth and Daniel awaited for the campers to arrive. At times they had an influx of people arriving at the same time, then it was quiet. So quiet, that they could hear the tranquility of the lake in the distance.

Witnessing a limo pull up, they all rolled their eyes back in unison. Each one knowing the usual scenario. People that turned up in style were the most obnoxious spoilt brats who refused to partake in activities.

“So it’s not the Coopers. They have a different type of limo. Mayors kids? Rich business mans kids? What are we betting?” Daniel asked the three women.

“They are arseholes. I can bet you all that...” Lola responded. Biting their lips they all attempted to not laugh, knowing that Lola was probably correct. Even if she wasn’t correct, she was still right. She would never acknowledge that she was wrong about anything.

“There’s five of them! I bet their parents are celebrating getting rid of them for a month.... oh, it gets better.. look...They’ve got a personal driver and a personal bodyguard!” Riley took a deep breath, ready to do the introductions to the people who had clearly never been to camp before. Not this one, anyway.

“Fake smiles, guys... we can’t let them ruin it for everybody else. We will bitch about them after.” Lola winked at the group of friends after saying this. They all knew that she was probably already making notes about the strangers. Making assumptions up.

****

“This is so exciting... is anybody else excited? I think I need to pee... maybe too late for that actually... but guess what? NO Bertrand for a month...” Clapping his hands enthusiastically, he was like a big kid in a candy shop.

“Li, please tell me that he’s not sharing with us?” Looking down at Maxwell’s damp trousers, Drake pleaded with Liam to not bunk up with anyone else but him.

“I’m glad he’s not sharing with me. I’m already stuck with ‘I can’t break a nail. I’m too precious.’ Eurghhh, count yourselves lucky gentlemen.”

“I’m stuck with Miss ‘look at me in the wrong way and I’ll slit your throat’...”

“I can’t wait to see you all pretend to not be noble.. this is going to be classic.” Sinking back into the chair, Drake laughed to himself- loudly. Deep down he had hoped that the girls would suffer during this trip. Just due to their horrendous attitude they have had towards him all of his life.

“Well you’ll feel right at home here... in the states where you actually belong.” Olivia smirked at Drake, knowing every time she criticised him about being a commoner it irritated him. Prior to his fathers death, it didn’t affect him - as he had his fathers support. Since Jackson’s death, himself and Savannah were criticised for still being in Cordonia- described as outcasts by the majority of the nobles. There was no reason for them to be there anymore, as their mother shortly abandoned them after tragically losing her husband, they all believed.

“I hear that there’s a lake here, Livvy. It’s apparently ice cold- just like your heart.” Scowling towards Drake, she didn’t think that he would respond with an insult. She hated him. He hated her. The feeling was mutual, and would be for the rest of their lives.

“Call me Livvy one more time, Walker. I dare ya!”

“That’s enough! Can we just enjoy this time. It’s the first time that I’ve been allowed a bit of freedom.. we’re here anyway. Remember, I am not a Prince and you aren’t nobles. We are all just normal people. Normal teenagers.” They all nodded in agreement, knowing how much this meant to Liam. For him to be free.

****

“Hey, welcome to Camp Beaver Brooks. My name is Riley. Myself and my friends will help you all get settled in. If you have any questions, just grab one of us. There are forms to fill out over there. If you all do that, then we will escort you to your dorms.”

“Charmed to make your acquaintance, Riley. My name is, Liam.” Pulling her hand towards his lips he kissed it tenderly. Dickhead, quit with the Prince charming act. Drake whispered in to his ear reminding him that they were no longer in Cordonia. “Erm, these are my closest friends; Drake, Maxwell, Olivia and Madeleine. We are from a different country, and are thrilled to be here.” Stepping backwards, she smiled at them all. Even though she was a bit freaked out by that introduction, she put it to the back of her mind- acting professional. Once they had all signed in, Bastien left them- phoning Andy he explained that they had arrived. Andy gave instructions for Bastien and the other guards to stay in a bungalow close by.

“So girls, Daniel will escort you to the girls dorm. Boys, myself and Lola will escort you to your dorms.” Fucking girls, we are nobles you fucking Yankee. Olivia took a sudden dislike to Riley. As she did with Drake. I hate commoners.

****

Maxwell latched onto Riley as she escorted them on the short walk to the dorms. He was acting as if he had known her own his life, Drake and Liam were both panic stricken that the Lord would accidentally disclose their true identities.

“Here you go, you will be sharing with a close friend of ours- Nate Cooper, when he arrives. He takes a disliking to people easily, but you’ve just got to defend yourself against him.”

“What Riley means, is Nate Cooper is a wanker. Good luck, boys.” Lola decided to abandon her post and sneak out for a crafty cigarette whilst Riley continued settling them in.

“Just ignore her. She accidentally drops the ‘f bomb’ and other swear words a few times. Quite a lot actually...” shrugging her shoulders, the men all laughed. Maxwell eagerly unpacked his suitcase and bagsed the top bunk of one of the bunk beds. Placing his teddy bear that he had since he was born, he would be more than annoyed if this Nate tried to steal his territory that he had marked.

“Ignore him, he’s still a child...” Drake explained, acting like the father figure of the group. As he said this, Riley locked her baby blues on to his dark eyes. Noticing him stare back towards her, she focused her gaze elsewhere. Not wanting him to realise that she was already hypnotised by his presence.

“So what is on the agenda for today, Riley?” Maxwell asked as he leaped off the top bunk, risking breaking a limb.

“Erm, well because it’s arrival day. You have this time to explore camp independently. Then we have dinner between six and seven. After that there’s a ‘welcome meeting’ then we all gather together around the campfire for a couple of hours.”

“Sounds fabulous.” Liam said, softly smiling at her.

“I hope that you all enjoy your time here. There’s a map in the top drawer. Don’t get lost on your first day though...see you all around six.” Waving goodbye, Liam followed her through the door- closing it behind him.

“Riley, I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Do we have any free time? Where we are not following a typical day agenda.”

“Yes, we have one day off each week. That day will change each week. There will be updates on this at reception. Why?”

“Oh, I just thought we could all ‘hang out’ as you Americans say.” Attempting to act like a normal ‘cool’ teenager, he hoped that she wouldn’t be offended by his upfront attitude.

“Sure. See ya.” Unable to erase the smile that was fixed onto his face, he entered the dorm. Grateful for his father suggesting this little adventure for them all.

****

Riley knew exactly where Lola would be, hiding behind the ‘bent tree’ as it was known. It was a common location for everyone to sneak away for a cigarette. Dodging all the tab ends that had been piling up over the years, her friend looked relieved that she had finally showed up.

“About time, I’ve chain smoked a whole packet nearly! What were you doing? Fucking them all?”

“LOLA! One, I highly doubt that you smoked a whole packet in five minutes. Two, I must be superwoman managing to have sex with all of them in that amount of time. Three, get a life!”

“So the tall dark handsome one, the blue eyed boy or the dopey one... which one would you sleep with?”

“Go fuck yourself. Or rather, Daniel. Come on, we need to get back.”

****

“Here you are ladies... this is your home for the next month. Dinner is at six.....”

“There’s room service, right?” Madeleine interrupted, as she scowled at the dirty room. Tracing her finger along the window ledge, she collected too much dust for her liking. Straight away she washed her hands in the cracked sink- then retrieved the hand sanitiser out of her handbag. I’m going to die.

“Erm, no. This isn’t a hotel.” The blonde nearly hyperventilated due to his response. Expecting for some elaboration, expecting for it to be some kind of sick joke- Daniel remained silent, shocked at her reaction. I’m a noble- get me out of here!

“Where’s the bathroom? I need a bath.” Olivia demanded to know as she folded her arms.

“If you turn left as you leave here and walk five minutes, there is a shared restroom. After dinner there will be a short ‘welcome meeting’ before we all gather next to the campfire. I’ll leave you to both get settled in. Enjoy ladies.” Both jaws practically dropped to the floor, before looking at each other with the same expression. Disgust. For the first time in their lives, they actually agreed on something. Why did we agree to come?

Daniel giggled to himself as he left the two snobs as he described them in his mind. Running back to the hut, he couldn’t wait to inform the girls about the newbies responses to being at camp.

This is going to be a long month. They are going to have a big reality check.

#choices trr #theroyalromance #trr fanfic #riley brooks #maxwell beaumont #liam rhys #olivia nevrakis #drake walker #trr madeleine #trr the american adventure #tw swearing #tw mention of sex #tw smoking #drake x ?#liam x ?#riley x ?#long post

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deadmomjokes · 4 years ago

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ooh I'm so curious about your boon now. how myc of it are you willing to disclose? what's the setting? how does magic work?

I’m so flattered anybody’s interested in it at all! ^.^

I confess, I’m super, irrationally paranoid about idea theft, so I don’t share a ton of details outside of my writing group and alpha/beta readers, but I’m trying to get past that, so I’ll share a little bit and see if I can talk my anxiety down to sharing more later. Basically I say this to apologize for the fact that I’m being a bit vague here. It’s not because I’m offended you asked or anything, I’ve just got some issues of my own.

So the basic premise in a really shortened, simplified, and condensed version is as follows:

About 15 years before the story begins, there was a war with an evil sorceress. She basically converted all the other magicians to her side and they were just absolutely annihilating everyone. Three countries formed an alliance and ended up taking her out. Huzzah, day saved! The story picks up right before a big festival in honor of the 15th anniversary of the alliance’s formation. The alliance, while originally a military compact, has kind of spread into a trade compact as well.

The main character is the right hand to the King who initiated the alliance in the first place. His name is Ayris. He has no last name (other than his title, “Kingsman”) because he more or less washed up on shore and the King found him. He was kidnapped as a child from his home country by some of the sorceress’s goons and had his memory wiped and they intended to bring him to the Sorceress as a kind of sacrifice. Because he’s super magic. Only after they left is when the alliance was formed and so they had no idea that the war had ended and their boss was dead. They get home and go “oh crap,” and the King rescues this little boy and goes “oh crap” because this kid is magic, and people are kind of super duper against magic right now on account of the fact that magic folks just tried to wipe them all out. But he’s a big softie and doesn’t want anything to happen to this kid so he takes him in to keep him safe. Over the years, he realizes Ayris has a talent for fighting and is super smart and super observant, so he promotes him from ward to his bodyguard, and then to a kind of all-around advisor.

And that’s where Ayris starts his journey: Content with being his King/adoptive father’s right hand man, and hiding his magical abilities because if anyone knew he’d more or less get burned at the stake.

The complications?

First, one of the nations in the alliance is super xenophobic, and they don’t like that Ayris is a “foreigner.” Even though the poor kid has no memories other than the country in which he now lives. But he ~looks different~ too- he has dark skin, white hair, and blue eyes, in a country full of tan-ish average white folks- so there’s no hiding the fact that he’s not originally from here. So he’s got to deal with all that while still acting as the King’s right hand, which means he cannot avoid the xenophobes’ leader because he’s gonna be right there with the guy the whole time.

And, of course, we have the Big Problem: The Sorceress managed to survive, as most evil magicians will, of course, and she’s back because she has a score to settle. Specifically with Ayris’s King, who dealt the ‘killing’ blow. Which, another major subplot: Ayris does not know that. He has a Batman code about killing. He refuses to take a life, and as far as he knows, the King shares that determination, because he’s very vocal about talking things out instead of resorting to violence. All that is a very formative concept for Ayris. So when he finds out that his King saw no other way to deal with things and resorted to straight up killing, he has... a LOT to process. Because....

The issue is that the Sorceress needs batteries, essentially. She’s almost out of power just from sustaining her spirit for a decade and a half. So she subsumes all the kids who had been born magic and didn’t know it since her downfall, only surprise! When she reaches out to snatch them, she finds a grown man! Ayris is all like, “Excuse? Who are you and what do you want with all these small children?” and she’s like, “Excuse? I ate all the magicians last time.” and he’s like “I beg your pardon?” Because it turns out that after she turned the magicians to her side, she decided that was too much a liability and so she snatched all their powers, killing them. Why did she decide they were a liability? Another subplot! A few of them resisted her and tried to break free of her control, but it went horribly wrong and only one of them survived, but was totally severed from her magic powers. We actually meet that character- she’s a major foil (and hardcore frenemy) for Ayris.

BUT ANYWAY

The Sorceress and Ayris are now more or less linked because of the way magic works in this world, and she’s bent on turning him or controlling him because he’s pretty dang powerful. (Which is why her goon squad kidnapped him in the first place.) She has all kinds of tricks and is basically pushing buttons from the inside to break him down, so he’s dealing with an evil lady in his head who’s attached to his powers. So of course the easiest way to isolate and mess with him would be to mess with his magic and make it hard to control. So he’s trying to keep the King safe from her hit squad, make nice with the xenophobes, and hide his powers despite this chick messing with him and trying to out him. They also have to find a way to get rid of her before she builds her army up again and goes for Round 2, and find a way to get her out of his head before she manages to take him over like she did to all the other magic folks last time.

As for how magic works, it’s described in text as a second world laying over the top of this one. Most people exist in only one world, the one you where your body is, and that’s where their soul lives, too. But some people are born with part of their soul in the other world, called the Tapestry. These people have the ability to manipulate things in the physical world because of this connection to the Tapestry. They also have an inherent connection to everyone else who is a part of the Tapestry, hence how the Sorceress can consume peoples’ power and influence them so easily. Of course, doing anything to influence or harm others in the Tapestry was always taboo, she’s just the first that managed it on a large scale and escaped the punishment.

Powers could be more or less unlimited in type and scope, but because you still exist in the physical world as well, you’re bound by your body. What happens to you in the physical happens to you in the Tapestry, and vice versa. So if you kill someone’s Tapestry self, their body dies. If you hurt someone’s physical body, their Tapestry self is also hurt. (The sorceress managed to discover a way to separate her physical and Tapestry selves, and that’s how she escaped death.) But the point is, doing magic takes energy from your body, so the more and bigger you do, the harder it is, and you could, in theory, kill yourself if you tried something big enough.

Most magicians have a specific kind of magic that comes most naturally for them, so they would often specialize. Anyone can do any kind of magic, but individuals would often train in what “called to them” most. So one guy might specialize in telekinesis, another might specialize in all things water, one might specialize in healing humans, etc. The only kind of magic that was forbidden was altering or influencing peoples’ minds or will, and that’s what made the sorceress evil- she felt drawn to/called by Feelings, other peoples’ emotions. She was a natural empath, and wanted to turn that into manipulating how people felt and thought in order to settle conflict, but that was forbidden. She didn’t want to be controlled, so she ran away from the others, started exploring and experimenting on her own, and started messing with things that she shouldn’t have and ended up kind of warping her own sense of justice and morality by toying with things she couldn’t control or understand. So now she’s bent on domination and subjugation of people who won’t willingly listen to her, all in the name of trying to bring peace and balance and justice (which was the code of the magical order she belonged to).

I know that’s long to be a summary, but this is a very, VERY long and complex story. To the point that this is going to be two books minimum. I’m about 15 chapters into the first one and working on the first round of structural edits so I can get on to writing the back half of it (more like the back 3/4, like I said, this is going to be a LONG story).

Oh, you also asked about setting! I confess to yet another late-Middle Ages European base, but culturally I tried to diversify more. The country of Xenophobes is a polytheistic theocracy with notions of manifest destiny that they’re just barely holding back on because they’re friends with the neighbors now. The country the story takes place in is culturally not super religious, and highly tolerant for the most part, which is why it’s so sad that everyone turned against the idea of magic. The third country straddles the line between the hyperconservative and frankly quite annoying theocracy and the (moderately agnostic) more liberal, understanding nation to their south. They also have a pantheon, but they allow religious freedom (also, fun tidbit, their King is gay and has a husband and an adopted son); however, they don’t allow women in combat (whereas the country Ayris is a part of does), and the people are generally more skeptical of foreigners than Ayris’s country is (except their king; he LOVES Ayris and is more or less the fun uncle).

So yeah! Book One is Ayris discovering a lot about himself, magic, and the past, and dealing with the fallout from that, and trying to find a way to protect himself and his King. And Book Two is the bigger, multinational conflict and inevitable war, and Ayris dealing with the sorceress attacking him personally and trying to find a way to stop her while the world starts falling apart around him. I don’t want to say too much more because some Stuff Goes Down in the first book that’s influential to the second one, but also kind of a surprise at this point.

Thanks for listening and letting me gush. I’ve been working on this story-- the concept, worldbuilding, and then the actual writing of it-- for a cumulative 8 years now. It’s my baby almost as much as my actual baby, and I’m very protective of it and also terrified of letting anyone see it. The mortifying ordeal of being known and all that. (Luckily my writing group is super helpful, patient, and kind!)

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ramblings-of-a-warped-mind · 4 years ago

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The Mulan live action was disappointing(rant)

I just watched the live action Mulan and kinda feels disapointed for what it came out to be. I waited for it for so long and it was my favorite movie as a kid.

Before any of possible reply to this telling me that it was beautiful and true to the text I’ll stay by with my words and is a personal rant on a movie that i was looking forward for a very long time. I do appreciate the work behind this movie and the fight stunts were amazing and I could make another post analyzing every fight scenes. I also enjoyed the Gong Li’s character it just seems like if such magical aspect is available in this universe was was it not used by other characters? I also love the set design, locations and costume design of this movie. I also know there are issues regarding this movie, the locations they used and the main actress but I won’t dive into that just yet.

The following points is be why I believe it doesn’t give the same impact compared to the original animated Mulan.

The musical disconnect of the live action.

We all know that we loved Disney movies besides the animation were the musical. I am aware that they choose for it not to be a musical to be more accurate to the text. Yet i presume that there are still artistic liberty used in this film for it to be presentable to children. This also confused me, what was this move’s intended audience. It is not colorful and fun enough to catch children’s attention yet it is not good enough for the adults.Going back to my point music always has a great impact on the development of scenes but they choose to use the instrumental versions of the music from the original Mulan which didn’t give that much of an impact to the scenes. A great example of this was in the original Mulan they used the song reflection to express her inner turmoil regarding her feelings and how she should present to the society.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1_BtlAw4trg

Another scene would be this

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HiqmZLOaD8o

Where the musical score was abruptly stopped giving a higher impact on the intensity of the scene. From a the hopeful song about the family they could create after this war to a depressing somber score. The score “A girl worth fighting for” is also a shows their motivation in being a soldier or what drives them in the middle of a war compared to the live action where they just sound like a couple of guys talking about bro stuff.

I know how hard it is to transition from a musical animation to live action while trying not to offend the audience that the character portrays but we can’t deny the importance of proper musical scoring in a film. I learned that most animated films that are musical would first compose the music and animate with the music in mind, they would purposely animate with the flow of music. This I believe isn’t true in most live action, the shots and scores are thought separately this is i believe the reason why the score and shots feels to have a disconnect.

The juxtaposition of shots for emotional impact

Again the scene that first comes up to my mind is when they were talking about what kind of girl they want, the scene where they were singing and hopeful of the family they would create or come home to after this war then cut to the war torn village, dozens of homes burnt to crisp. As a kid who had no idea what a war meant that invoked fear in me especially when she picked up the doll. The fact that Li Shang’s father was as also a reminder that war will take anybody even if you are skilled enough with decades of experience. That also give such a huge impact on Mulan’s Those kids of symbolism and shot juxtoposition wasn’t implemented on the movie, the movie revolves around Mulan’s journey as a soldier, yet they forgot to show how the war affects the common people, the people they should be fighting for.

The story telling wasn’t great

In the animated movie the build ups were strong, they were also able to show how they could weaponize her femininity which wasn’t present in the live action version, they didn’t focus much on how much being a typical woman was highly regarded in their culture. How being a good daughter and better housewife is the only way for her to give honor to her family. Yes, the scene with the matchmaker was present in both film but was presented drastically different.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nFmvluDJ3YM&list=PLR-HV0VZ2zAWG7Ic95eSw1JvywxwTddVK&index=4

I know her putting out the fire does not sit with the tone of the live action, but that scene give emphasis on the intensity of her act in able to loose her honor as a possible wife material, also in the animated we can see that the townsmen visibly moved away from her, yet it was her father who reminded her of her worth.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9evTseQdY60&list=PLR-HV0VZ2zAWG7Ic95eSw1JvywxwTddVK&index=5

Compared to the live action where she disgraced due to breaking tea set (which I know is highly valued but does not convey the same intensity as burning the clothes of the match maker, her being dishonored was showed through her father not her community, which seemed opposite of how their relationship was previously shown. In both movies her relationship with her father was highly valued, it was even shown in the live action how her father would teach her fighting skills and would sometimes treat her as a boy which I believe was true to the original text. It just feels like her close relationship was not given enough room to be showed in the live action. The scene where she was dishonored by the match maker and the soldiers asking for her father to go back to war was 1 minute long. That felt too short for the audience to fully grasp her drive to bring back her father’s honor. Which was the whole point of the show. Well the scene of her wielding her father’s sword was beautiful and I have to give credit to that.

The whole film doesn’t give the same intensity as the animated one. (Sorry I might add more to this.)

The ending feels like anti climactic

We know how Mulan in the animated film got her honor in front of thousands of people, how to emperor blessed her and gave her his medalion, yet in the end what restored her honor was when her father hugged her and telling her how much of an honor having her as a daughter is. In this case we can see how her honor was restored in a public way and in a much more personal way involving her father. Compare this to the scene where Mulan was given honor inside the palace court. The importance of the scene wasn’t expressed through the screen, the audience might think they are important people since they are in close proximity and probably hand picked by the Emperor to be their but we still don’t know most of them, their existence in the film doesn’t add to the impact on the importance Mulan did for her country. The scene where she came home and was awarded the sword, this doesn’t portray the intimacy that the animated movie had with her father. There wasn’t enough build up regarding how her father feels about her, and again I understand how important it is to show her being honored inside her community but it also took away the intimacy the scene could have with her father and her family. I guess coming from an asian family I am used of family matters to be discussed in public, such as her apology scene but it was shot in the center of her community, an open area being watched by everyone, meanwhile when she was given honor by the Emperor the setting feels more personal and in an enclosed space. They could’ve shot the scene where she was talking with her father by the community altar, somewhere that could give a sense of privacy and intimacy and them going out when the soldiers arrive.

#mulan #this is personal rant #i still respect the creators of this film #still love it

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feministshawnmendes · 5 years ago

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I’m Baby

A/N: I’m so sorry if this is shitty. I had an idea in my head but idk if it worked out??? Based off of the prompt below!!! Let me know what you think!!!

_____

It was around midnight by the time y/n finally showed up to Shawn’s condo in LA. After a short hiatus from tour he’d decided he’d wanted to invite a few people over for a small get together with some of his team but as she pulled up to his house, y/n saw that his small get together had turned into a full blown house party. She entered by herself, like always, looking around for any familiar faces. She was wearing a pair of black jeans and a black tank top. She wasn’t really trying to impress anybody and she’d had a long day at work so she opted out of her usual sparkly and too tight party attire.

She made a few rounds, chatting with people she hadn’t seen in a while and taking shots of tequila and rum every now and then. It’d been an hour and she was feeling good but not quite tipsy, her face feeling warm from the alcohol as she chatted with one of her friends who was a hairdresser. They’d been talking for a little bit when Shawn finally made an appearance, clearly already drunk from the sight of his red cheeks and his damp curls. Y/n couldn’t help but smile a closed mouthed smile as Shawn bounced into the room with a red cup in his hand, shaking the shoulders of his best mate Brian with enthusiasm. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and shook her head, Shawn’s excited eyes traveling over to y/n. His face lit up when he saw her, his mouth open wide with a smile as he leaned into Brian and whispered something in his ear, pointing to y/n. Both boys started bouncing up and down, making a commotion as they pushed their way through to her.

“KIDDO!” They both yelled simultaneously, making her laugh as she apologized to her friend, who shook her head and said it was okay, she’d catch up with her later as she smoothly made an exit. Brian threw his arm around her, his entire being smelling sour from the copious amounts of alcohol she assumed he had consumed.

“It’s been so long, kid” Brian slurred, just a bit unsteady on his feet. She smiled and set her hand on his chest to help steady him.

“It’s been three weeks, pal. But sure,” she laughed.

“Y/n!” Shawn shouted, pulling her away from Brian, who swayed where he was. She made a concerned face at him as Shawn pulled her into him, his hand slithering around her waist. “Come play cups with us”

“Sure, let's go, boys” she smiled as Shawn and Brian high fived and shouted in delight. Shawn was always so bro-y when he was with his friends. She normally would have hated it and never would have been friends with people like that but it was their Canadian charm when they weren’t completely fucked up that attracted to them to begin with. So, she could handle a couple of hours of occasional bro-iness.

“I missed you,” Shawn shouted, his hand resting on the small of her back as Brian guided them through the crowd, her body growing warm from the contact. She smiled up at him, his eyes slightly red. She tilted her head and gave him a knowing smile as he gave her a goofy smile back. She leaned into him and he did the same thing instinctively.

“Are you high?” She giggled. Shawn chuckled, nodding slowly. Y/n bursted into laughter. “Why are you so sweaty? I thought you were wasted”

“I always get so hot,” He laughed.

“But maybe it’s because you, honey” he teased, winking at her playfully. She rolled her eyes and pushed him away from her, making him laugh even more as they finally found themselves in Shawn’s kitchen. Brian had started a game of flip cup, Shawn and Y/n joining the group.

Partying with Shawn was always fun. He was normally pretty easy going but drunk/high Shawn always seemed way more relaxed. He sometimes got in his own head too much and was too harsh on himself. When he was partying with his friends, he wasn’t worried about his public image or what song wasn’t coming together. It was nice to see him let himself unwind, especially with how hard he always worked.

“Well aren’t you overdressed, y/n” Geoff smirked from the opposite side of the circle they’d all formed. The group laughed, making her roll her eyes as she tossed a soggy chip at him. He laughed.

“She looks better than half the girls here,” Emily chimed in, giving Geoff a nudge.

“Geoff it looks like you haven’t washed your hair in a month,” Y/n quipped back, earning a round of laughter. “So I’m not offended”

“Y/n always looks good, anyway” Shawn added, giving her a goofy smile and a small nudge. She rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless.

“Can we finish this damn game?” Brian shouted, earning groans from everyone.

They played flip cup for a solid 30 minutes before people started slowly dispersing from boredom with the game, leaving Shawn and y/n giggling like fools as they tried to throw pretzels into each other’s mouths - having abandoned the game half way through.

“Okay okay my turn,” y/n laughed, opening her mouth as wide as possible as Shawn grabbed a pretzel and chucked it at her. She tried desperately to catch it but it flew to the floor, making her pout as she looked down at it. Shawn laughed loudly as he chewed on a pretzel.

“You’re so cute when you look defeated,” he teased her as he walked closer to her, reaching out and booping the tip of her nose with his finger. She groaned lightly, jutting her bottom lip out as Shawn laughed again at her, his eyes dancing across her face as her features softened. He’d never noticed how pretty she was. Not that he’d ever thought she was unattractive. When they first met Shawn had found himself stumbling over his words, her strong demeanor and confident energy making him nervous. They’d met when Andrew hired her to manage expenses for the tour. He had remembered thinking how fucking smart she was in that first meeting with him and Andrew, blown away by the way she spoke. He’d stared at her as she went over numbers and spending strategies, tripping over his words when she’d stop and ask him a simple question. He’d been so in awe of her. His body growing warm when she’d catch him staring too long, her lips curving into a small smile as she stole small glances at him. They’d naturally fallen into being friends, his feelings for her growing into strong admiration. He was still struck by her and impressed over and over at how smart she was. His feelings had grown into friendly ones. He was just suddenly aware of her beauty more in that moment - her soft eyes peering up at him, her dark hair a mess around her face, her lips pouted at him, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol. Maybe it was the weed or maybe he was just feeling particularly affectionate, but he felt his cheeks grow warm as he took her in. He smiled down at her as she yawned and rubbed at her eyes sleepily.

“I’m getting so old,” She grumbled. “I can barely manage to party for more than a couple hours.”

“It’s only 2:00am. You can’t tap out now,” He nudged her, making her slump her shoulders as she yawned again.

“I’m soooo tired,” She groaned, her eyes dropping as she felt her body aching to lay down.

“You can’t leave,” he whined. “I’ll be all by myself if you do and I’ll make you feel guilty for weeks if you think about ditching me”

“Everyone is here because of you!” She said animatedly, her body perking up as her eyes widened at him. He smiled a close mouthed smile at her.

“Yeah but you’re the only one I care about being here right now,” He whispered. His tone was a tad bit more serious than he’d intended, y/n’s eyebrows knitted together. He hadn’t intended for it to come off that way.

“There are literal models here right now,” y/n laughed. “Cozy up with one of them and you won’t miss me one bit, Mendes.”

“You can’t drive, anyway. You’re still drunk,” He reasoned.

“I’m not!” She laughed, her rosy cheeks growing redder as Shawn moved closer to her as someone zoomed past them with an arm full of beers, his hand sliding to the small of her back protectively. She stared up at him as she watched his eyes narrow at the dude who had run past them, his gaze eventually fluttering down to meet hers. He smiled down at her as she let out a small giggle. He licked his dry lips as his hand fell from her back.

“What?” He laughed.

“You’re so tall,” She laughed, her cheeks growing round as she continued smiling up at him. He smiled and shook his head.

“Never heard that before, sweetheart” He teased, making her heart beat increase at the pet name. It was so hard not to be drawn to Shawn. He was so present and so sweet. She continued staring at him, noticing how smooth his skin looked. She was always so blown away by how handsome he was. It felt like it was just natural for him. He looked back down at her, smiling another closed mouth smile as he reached out and rubbed her cheek with the back of his pointer finger. Her smile grew, his doing the same in response.

“Your cheeks are so red,” He whispered. She hummed gently before letting out a heavy sigh.

“I gotta go home,” She yawned. “Wanna walk me home?”

“Babe, your house is at least an hour away, we can’t walk there,” He laughed.

“Ughhhh,” She groaned. “Then I’ll take an Uber”

She went to pull her phone out and get ready to pull up the Uber app but Shawn shook his head, pulling it out of her hands quickly. She gasped as the cold glass slipped out of her fingers.

“I haven’t seen you in weeks,” He said as she tried to snatch the phone back from him. He beamed down at her, her bottom lip jutting out as she looked up at him with puppy dog eyes. Drunk y/n was his favorite. She was so free and childlike. She was always so composed and calculated regularly - which he appreciated. But it was nice to see her be human. To see her not worry about being perfectly put together.

“Don’t leave me,” He all but begged. She went to protest yet again, feeling her energy draining out of her when Brian stumbled in with Geoff, Emily, and Teddy.

“We’re ditching to go walk and get pizza across the street. You guys down?” Brian proposed, clearly much more sober than he was hours ago but still pretty intoxicated. Y/n’s eyes lit up as a smile plastered itself across her face.

“Okay I can postpone bedtime for pizza,” She reasoned. Shawn smiled smugly at her, making her roll her eyes as they followed the group out of the house. “I’m staying for pizza, not you”

“Why not both?” He said, giving her a playful wink as they exited the house and entered the cold LA night air, making y/n regret not bringing a jacket.

“You’re so annoying sometimes,” She glared at him.

“Wow way to make a guy feel good, y/n”

“Mm I don’t feel bad. You don’t need the ego boost. You’re Shawn Mendes,” She teased as they trailed behind the others, goosebumps forming on y/n’s arms. Shawn tilted his head, sticking his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“Yeah you’re right,” He smiled, making her roll her eyes playfully.

“God you’re unbearable,”

“Am I?” He laughed, coming to a stop when the others did. The pizza shop was quite literally right across from the house they were just at, Shawn’s eyes taking in his surroundings as he noticed that their was a walk up window where other clearly drunk people were ordering food. His eyes traveled back to y/n, whose nose was now red from the cold, her lips parted as she stared at him.

“You know you are,” She laughed. He shrugged his shoulders, licking his lips as he took in the way her hand ran through her hair, her tongue wetting her lips as she averted her gaze to the menu.

“I might get two slices to be honest,” She announced to no one in particular.

“God that’s why I love you, y/n” Brian groaned, throwing his arm over her, making her giggle as he did so. “I was literally thinking the same thing.”

Shawn’s cheeks burned as he watched Brian lean in and press a sloppy kiss to y/n’s cheek. She laughed loudly, shaking her head as she threw an arm around his shoulder. He felt his breathing become jagged. It’s just how Brian was. He was a very affectionate person. He’d done it a dozen times before to y/n. It wasn’t even vaguely romantic. Brian called her kiddo and if anything he saw y/n as a sister. But still, Shawn felt an unsettling feeling in his stomach. He shook the feeling and wiggled in-between the two, both of them thinking nothing of it as Shawn flashed an easy smile. It was natural, him slotting himself between the two of them. He’d done it a million times before. But this time his hand slid to the small of y/n’s back like it had earlier, his breathing uneven and his entire body tingling as his hot fingertips pressed against the spot between the hem of her jeans and the bottom of her shirt. She thought nothing of it, despite how warm her body had become because of the contact.

“Y/n how are you getting home?” Brian asked after a small wave of silence.

“I’m taking an Uber,” she yawned, her tummy grumbling as they got closer to the front of the line.

“No way,” He chuckled. “Stay with us tonight. You can drive home tomorrow”

“Yeah,” Shawn agreed, his fingers pressing into her back, making her breath quicken as she looked up at him. He gulped nervously as she furrowed his eyebrows at him. “It’ll be fun. We’ll watch a movie together”

“Bro yes!” Brian clapped excitedly “The new Spider-Man looks so good!”

“Okay I’m down,” y/n smiled, Shawn’s lips curving into a small smile as his hand fell from its place on y/n’s back. She let out a small sigh, confusion washing over her.

They all ordered their pizza to go, getting a couple boxes to share before going back to the house, politely but quickly kicking everyone out. Emily Teddy and Geoff quickly ate their pizza before saying their goodbyes and piling in an Uber together - leaving the other three by themselves in the living room. Brian was in a chair by himself, slowly nodding off as Shawn and y/n awkwardly finished off the pizza, both of them pressed against each other but stiff as could be next to each other. Y/n stared absentmindedly at the tv, picking off slices of pepperoni from the slice of pizza in her hand and popping them into her mouth. They’d all crowded onto the couch together, Shawn and y/n plopping down next to each other. When everyone had left they’d both awkwardly stayed exactly where they were, the side of their warm thighs burning into each other.

“I’m fucking tired,” Brian muttered as he stumbled out of his chair. He rubbed at his eyes and gave them a small wave.

“Goodnight, kiddos” he yawned as he shuffled out of the living room, leaving the two on their own as he did so.

They stayed where they were once again, y/n gulping nervously as she felt her stomach churn. She set her pizza down in the box in front of her, her eyes glancing over to see that Shawn was still looking at the tv, his left arm propped up on the arm of the couch, his face resting in his palm. She let out a sigh, feeling his fingers twitch, brushing against her thigh briefly. His gaze darted to hers, making her furrow an eyebrow as his Adam’s apple moved up and down his throat as he looked at her for the first time since they’d sat down.

She smiled at him. She couldn’t help but laugh when she looked at him or when he smiled at her. They’d both been like that since they’d met - their lips permanently curved into a smile when they were around each other. He laughed too, licking his lips as his eyes stood a glance at hers, noticing how they were curved.

“What?” He asked.

“Nothing,” She laughed back. “I just never noticed how curly your hair is”

“Mmm really is that it?” He smiled, throwing his arm over the back of the couch. She nodded, tilted her head. She reached out and twirled a strand of his hair around her finger, her smile growing as she did so. Shawn’s breath became labored at the contact, her hand falling back into her lap. She yawned suddenly, her eyes watering as she stared blankly back at the tv. The way she leaned back into the sofa and let her head rest against it, he knew she was going to leave soon to go to bed.

“What ever happened with that guy you were talking to?” Shawn asked after a while, his eyes moving slowly over to y/n. He noticed the way she stiffened slightly, her chest falling as she fiddled with the hem of her shirt.

“Uh,” She croaked as she continued staring at the screen. “He ghosted me a couple weeks ago and then updated his relationship status a couple days ago. He’s seeing someone else”

“Oh wow, honey” He said gently. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” She laughed, finally turning to look at him. He let out a small sigh, his eyes dancing across her face. “I’m not trying to force anything, ya know?”

“No yeah,” he nodded, licking his lips. He rubbed the back of his neck out of habit as he looked down at her, her lips curved into a small smile. He shook his head as she stared up at him. “You know you’re beautiful, right?”

“Shawn,” She laughed airily, shaking her head as her cheeks warmed up and his smile widened. The energy between them had quickly shifted, her throat feeling shallow as he stared intently at her, his eyes growing dark as they searched hers.

“God,” He whispered, taking in the way her thigh pressed against his felt. He noticed the small spattering of freckles that dotted the bridge of her nose and kissed the tops of her cheeks, noticing the slight pout in her lips, suddenly captivated by the smooth brown color of her eyes. “Really. You’re so pretty, honey”

“Shawn shut up,” She breathed shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I-I don’t understand why anyone would ghost you,” He laughed, making her roll her eyes nervously as she smiled coyly. He cocked an eyebrow as she nervously bit the skin on her bottom lip. He licked the corner of his mouth, clearing his throat as he tried to figure out how to make his desire in that moment clear without being too needy. “You’re like the smartest person I know”

“Mm well you work with a bunch of musicians. They’re smart in a different way,” She smiled, her eyes finally meeting his again. His smile widened. That closed mouth, cocky smile of his that could have been off putting but that made her laugh without fail. She shook her head as his eyes darted down to her lips quickly before reconnecting with hers. “I think you’re just fooling yourself into thinking I’m smart because I have a degree and use big words”

“No you are the smartest person I know,” he breathed, trying to steady himself as he tried not to stare at her lips too much. She shrugged her shoulders and hummed.

“I think people are smart in different ways,” She reasoned, making him tilt his head and rub his bottom lip with his index finger as he moved closer to her, their legs pressed flush against each other as he did so. He felt his cheeks grow red as she smiled knowingly at him. She pursed her lips slightly, letting out a small laugh. “What about you?”

“What about me?” He asked, taken aback by her question. She folded her arms across her chest, leaning back once again into the couch. He watched as her head came dangerously close to his hand that was still thrown over the back of the couch. He fought the urge to let his fingers get lost in her hair. The tension between them was palpable, both of them too nervous to make the first move or point it out.

“Why didn’t you leave with anyone tonight?” She whispered, his breath catching in his throat as she leaned back further into the couch, straightening her back and nudging his hand with her head. They’d cuddled before. It wasn’t really weird for her to want him to be close. Shawn was a really affectionate person and y/n was happy to oblige and reciprocate when he’d throw his arms around her or ask her for a scalp massage.

He sighed as his fingers slid in between the strands of hair on the back of her head. She let out a content sigh, smiling up at him as he rubbed the back of her scalp.

“Funny,” He whispered, his fingers finding themselves untangling from her hair to slide down the side of her exposed arm. Shawn noticed the goosebumps that sprouted up on her arm, a shiver running up and down her spine. He flashed another toothy smile at her, making her cheeks burn and her heart beat fast in her chest. “I thought I left with you.”

“I’m baby?” She asked with a light chuckle, a glint swimming in her eyes as Shawn’s chest rose and his throat went dry. He gulped nervously, nodding gently as he reached out and smoothed the apple of her cheek with the back of his hand, noticing the way her breath hitched.

“Yeah,” He breathed. “You’re my baby.”

“Am I?” She muttered, her eyes searching his as continued to stroke her cheek gently with the back of his hand. He nodded.

“If you want to be,” He whispered.

“If I say yes will you finally kiss me?”

“Depends?”

“On what?” She laughed, Shawn’s hand cupping her face gently as his thumb swept over her bottom lip. She shivered as he smirked down at her.

“Am I baby?” He asked with a gentle pout of his lips. She rolled her eyes, pushing him away gently.

“You’re so annoying,” she laughed.

“No I’m baby,” He laughed back.

“Yeah,” She laughed, her cheeks turning crimson as Shawn smiled down at her and set his hand on her leg, squeezing it gently. “I guess you are, Mendes.”

#sm #shawnblr #shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn x reader

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peachydyoung · 6 years ago

Text

money talks | k.dy (m)

— genre ➙ sugardaddy!au + smut + angst — words ➙ 8k i love writing doyoung please kill me — member ➙ kim dongyoung — warnings ➙ graphic smut, dirty talk, rough sex, softdom!doyoung + sub!reader, oral sex, fingering + strong language + inappropriate scenario // 2 smuts in one

The owner of a multi-billion dollar company plans to invest in your career for a small price. He gives you one rule... Don’t get attached.

↳ 01 completed

— ⚠️ DISCLAIMER⚠️ ➙ This contains a very problematic scenario. I personally do not advocate for this, and please know that this is writing, a story with an intriguing topic to read about, not to act upon. Each fic will have their own set of warnings, look at them and evaluate if they are for you. My intention is not to offend, or trigger anybody, I am here to entertain you and exercise my passion as a writer. a/n here’s a nice long doyoung smut, 2 sex scenes cause there is never enough and doyoung my bias.

“I haven’t seen you before,” A dark-haired, broad-shouldered man smiled, raising his wine glass in front of him. His penetrating eyes and gummy smile made you unconsciously lift yours. Although it was your first time at this party, you wondered why you hadn’t seen him earlier. He was senselessly gorgeous.

You were insecure under his stare, he stood there in front of you with his fancy suit and handsome face. The only dresses you could afford were the ones from forever 21. And even then it was still a little much. Nonetheless, you could always manage to make five dollars look like hundred.

“Uh, yeah, I’m a plus one,” you said apprehensively, but the man seemed to catch on to it. Taeyong had brought you along and asked that you mingle to make more connections. He noticed that you were becoming more and more insecure about your photography with every new job that turned you down.

“Mmm,” He hummed, taking a sip of his wine and letting his eyes rake over your body. “So you’re here with a man? Women? By yourself?” He was easy on the eyes, especially wearing an expensive black suit and being in his mid or late twenties.

“My friend… you might know him, his name is Taeyong. He’s pretty popular amongst the mainstream dancing thing. He has a lot of friends.” His eyes widened comically, a big smile playing on his youthful skin as he let out a laugh. You didn’t wanna be here at all, but you knew coming here meant photography connections and you needed that before college ended.

“Me and Taeyong? We go way back,” He said grinning as if he was reliving a past memory. “Can I?” he gestured to the open chair next to you, his smile making you say yes to anything he could have asked.

“Yeah of course!” You adjusted your body to look more presentable. With a nod, he sat on the stool next to you, placing his glass on the counter of the fancy bar and drumming his fingers on the granite counter.

“So…has no other man come to talk to you yet?” Your cheeks were blanketed in a red sheer glow as he asked the question. To answer his question, no, nobody had come to talk to you. You either scared them away or were a ghost to the rich and snobby crowd. “I apologize if it makes you uncomfortable it’s just a question a man has when they see a beautiful woman sitting alone—I’m Doyoung by the way, Kim Dongyoung.” He had manners too, something you liked in a guy. And this one wasn’t a frat boy, he was a real man with a job.

“I’m Y/N, and no, nobody has.” The beginnings of a smirk were present on his small lips. His answer didn’t shock him, he knew that you would be his by the end of the night. “And if you’re wondering, I don’t have a boyfriend either,” You added on playfully, earning a chuckle. He sipped his drink, mischievous twinkling in his eyes.

“Well, I don’t have a girlfriend either.” A smile illuminated his face, he looked down, something about it was bittersweet. “So what do you do?” He asked. “What do you do to make a life for yourself.”

“Photographer, I’m a photographer.” He nodded. “I uh, I’m going to college right now majoring in photography, which is going very well. I want to break into high fashion photography for models, especially nude shoots, those are always fun.” He laughed, it was deep, low, and genuine. “It’ll never happen though, should've become a dentist like my mom suggested.” You paused momentarily, holding eye contact with the man. His eyes were dark, narrow, and discerning. “Fine art photography is my backup, but it’s even harder to make a name for yourself. Photography is hard to break into now, you know.” You laughed awkwardly. “Part-time jobs are my income and will continue to be that way.”

“Consider yourself lucky. At Least you’re doing something you love. Do you know how many people have money and office jobs and hate it… a lot, I’ll tell you that much.” You guessed he was right, he looked rich enough to make the assumption. “ If photography truly makes you happy, pursuing it is the only way to go. We live most of our lives in work anyways,, don’t play dentist because your mom said so. Novelty wears off.”

“And are you happy?” You tilted your head, earning a silent laugh from him.

“Do you know who I am?” He inquired, looking more and more smug by the minute. “Never heard of KDY Enterprises? Or Entertainment?.” You were ashamed of not knowing, nodding your head no shyly. He didn’t seem to mind, he actually looked a little… happy?

“So you have money? And an office job?” He was hesitant to answer you but decided to say it anyway.

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

“So, tell me first hand, do you hate your job, does the novelty of money wear off?” He cocked his head to the side, his tongue poking from his cheek as he swallowed your playful retort.

“You know what people don’t know?” He asked, setting down his drink and narrowing his eyes at you. “I might have a busy job, but money never gets old. Despite what people think, I can buy happiness.”

“Sure you can. You can buy food, mattresses, houses, plane tickets, all of which that would make one happy, me included. But what’s the point of buying a house when it’s empty? You can have a bag of groceries, but you won’t finish all the food. Mattresses get cold when one side is slept on more than the other.”

A shaky sigh left his lips, you guessed that nobody had really talked to him like this, after all, he was the CEO of his own company. “My penthouse is pretty empty,” He shrugged, ogling you. “My bed’s cold as well.” A sly smirk found its way to his face. “I like sharing. With my friends… family...charity.” You chuckled at him, sipping wine from your own glass.

“I know people in the fashion business, I know models, I know photographers.” You knew a business opportunity when you saw one, you cocked your eyebrow and looked at him through hooded eyes.

“I don’t follow.” You looked everywhere but him, at the ceiling, at the ground, just left of his head. You even spotted Taeyong talking to some girl. But you were too nervous to look at him, too nervous to hear what he would propose.

“Because I’m lonely and rich as you so kindly pointed out,” He retorted. “Why don’t I help you with your photography dream. And If you’re so willing we can even share a bed.” You started at him, watching as he got up from his chair and stepping in front of you.

“And how did you intend on doing that?”

“Sweetheart, come with me and let me show you.”

With his arm outstretched and his hand offered. You took it, not knowing you made a deal with the devil.

A year later

Your eyes hurt and were dry from keeping them open. Your photoshop was broken, and you couldn't email the photos without your computer shutting down. No matter how hard you tried none of your photographs were looking the way you’d imagine them to turn out like. Fine art photography wasn’t supposed to be forced, but you’ve been in a rut for at least a month.

It wasn’t always like this. Your creativity would be bursting at the seams when he was there. Everything seemed to be going right when Doyoung showed up. When he was gone it was like you were living your days in an endless loop of loneliness and fame. The world went on without you, life passed you. It was when you were with Doyoung that you could catch up to it again. Without him, you were stuck, life stopped.

Doyoung offered you an easy out of your part time jobs with mediocre pay and wage times. He introduced you to a world of magic and wealth. Although you were skeptical at first, you had no choice but to agree, there was no way you could get through college and then get a decent job. College at that point was getting pretty shitty with all its stressful exams, and you needed a way out. And there was your opportunity.

Of course, there were rules you were to follow religiously. If you were to break any of them you don't know what Doyoung would do to you, he could be super creative at times. Regardless, you followed them because you were grateful for all he did for you, not just because he told you too.

You weren’t stupid, you knew that he had other girls spread across the world waiting to be fucked just like you were. They were probably held up in a penthouse just like you. But you didn’t ask questions, you didn’t care. You broke rule number, don’t get too attached. And that was the first mistake you made with your dangerous life with Doyoung.

You shut your laptop and groaned, pulling the instant noodles you made earlier towards you. You took a spoonful of the now cold and mushy noodles. You had been able to pay back Doyoung the million dollars he gave you to start your photography career and made nearly 20 times more. Yet you still stayed and ate less than mediocre food. Bad habits never change.

“This is fucking disgusting,” you muttered to yourself, snatching the cup of noodles up in your hand and sauntering over to the kitchen.

The house was pretty minimalistic. It was mostly all white with black furniture, cool toned things and such. It was all open concept, the kitchen, living room, and dining room. Every countertop was white quartz, every cabinet war of the highest quality wood, you lived lavishly.

You opened the trash can and threw the mushy noodles in. Doyoung had promised to bring you dinner that night, and as the clock struck closer and closer to twelve you knew it was a lost cause. And instead of calling, you turned into a muttering mess. “Doyoung, when you come back I’m gonna fucking kill you for making me wait—”

“Now baby,” a familiar voice cut through the air behind you. “You’re not actually planning on doing something stupid, right?”

The familiar sight of his white button-down shirt came into vision. It was a nice sense of normalcy when you saw him sweaty after work, his white shirt clinging to his skin. It made you feel like one of those conventional couples, the ones where the wife greets the husband when he gets back from work.

He dropped his briefcase on the ground and lean up on the counter across from you.

“Fuck you.” He pretended to look shocked from what you had said, but to be frank, this whole month you had been giving him attitude and you yourself didn’t even know why. This doesn't surprise him.

“Cute,” he remarked. “It wouldn't be the first time I have.” You had become so comfortable with him in the year you knew him. But as you grew comfortable, his slide remarks didn’t turn you on like they used to, his broken promises actually hurt, the relationship actually meant something to you. And you didn’t know if any of those things mattered to him ” I wonder when you’ll learn to behave and not disobey me.” He ran his finger through his black hair and smirked. “I’m in need of a destresser.”

“You have other whores for tha—”

“Aren’t you brave tonight?” He raised his voice at you. “Like I said.” He pronounced each word clearly and loud. “I’m stressed and I missed you. I’ll dismiss the fact that you just said that to me as well.” He looked around the kitchen, finally locking eyes with you. “You should be happy I’m here, I’m a busy man you know.”

“Oh my god, thank you Doyoung for gracing me with your presence that wasn’t even spontaneous, it was promised! Better yet! Thank you for being five hours late!” You never really got mad at him, even now the anger wasn’t at its breaking point, but this month things started to change.

“I don’t understand why you have to be so rude. You’ve been doing it a lot lately.”

You narrowed your eyes at your employer, finally a real anger brewing inside of you for all that he put you through. He sensed that, and despite his usual half-assed sorries, he pulled one out of his ass and made it sound even a little real. “I’m sorry Y/N. What can I do to make it up to you? Money? Jewelry? You name it. ” You were fully prepared to make an escape to your room and not see him for a couple of more months. You walked away.

“Y/N, don’t leave—” But you were already walking, walking, and walking away. “Y/N stop walking… stop now.”

If it hadn’t been for how scary his voice was when he yelled, you might’ve not stopped, but maybe a part of you still would’ve.

“Get the fuck over here, right fucking now.” His voice was deep when he shouted, it was scary. In that moment you knew you were gonna fuck him, from the moment you saw him you knew.

“Why don’t you get the fuck over here, since you miss me so bad.” You turned around and looked at him. He was still leaning on the counter, staring at you. He reluctantly got up with a huff and paraded over meeting you at the dining table. His hand cupped your cheek while his other brushed some stray hair away from your face, pulling your face up.

“Who do you think you are?” He said just above a whisper. “I don’t like fucking attitude,” he spat at you. “You should remember how you acted when you first got her, cause you weren’t like this.”

This was the fourth time he’d visited that week. Each time he came he was more stressed than the last, and you were becoming more reluctant as the days went on. It was one of the longest times he came.

You wondered wh yourself was giving him attitude, he was generally a nice person with good intentions and you could tell that this was hurting him. But he was hurting you, he was always hurting you. Maybe the attitude would compensate for the fact that you actually had feelings for the man and pushing him away would help in the long run. “Bedroom, princess.”

He was right behind you quickly heading into the master bedroom like he was your parent tucking you to bed at night. You hated when he did that. He pushed you down on the bed roughly, letting you get enough time in to look up at him. He ripped the buttons of his button shirt open so hard you heard the little sounds of beads falling on the ground. He pulled down his pants so quickly you thought you heard a tear.

Faster than a heartbeat, his lips were pushed against yours feverishly. Doyoung always kissed rough and quick, always being careful of not kissing you too long so you never got the wrong idea. He was pulling on the hem of your shirt, leaving a trail of warm kisses down your neck as he struggled to pull it off your body.

Doyoung was everything you needed in bed. He was confident, caring, rough, and surprisingly exciting. Once he had pulled you top off, he was pulling down your jeans, throwing them somewhere behind him and chuckling. He ground his hips against yours. Enough to get you wet and leave your juices on soaking your panties.

Despite what people thought Doyoung's lips were soft and warm, not cold at all like the media portrayed. He was warm and inviting. So as he kissed you, you let your hands knot in the roots of his hair and pull.

He sighed pushing his tongue deep inside your mouth, a moaning. Your hips rocked against his, creating more and more friction for the both of you. His hands slipped to your waist, pulling the panties down on the right side. It was the fourth time this week his body was on top of yours, and you loved it.

“Doyoung—”

“Sweetheart you lost the right to talk,” He hummed, pulling your panties down and teasing your slit. He looked down at your pink pussy and intricately pleasured you, making you gasp. He was always in charge—always. He was the one that would leave you thoroughly fucked or in a crumpled up mess waiting to be. That was the way it was, and you liked the high stakes. A suppressed moan fell from your lips and was caught in his when he pushed the pad of his thumb on your clit.

“You can moan baby, I won’t stop you from doing that, ” He snickered, feeling your wetness gather up around your clit and entrance.

“You’re already dripping.” He smiled against your mouth than peppering kisses down your neck in sloppy unorganized kisses.

Without warning, he pushed a finger inside you, and you tried hard to suppress the scream that crawled at the back of your throat. Normally Doyoung liked to rile you up, he thrust his long fingers in and out of your pussy, in a search for your sweet spot. When he curled his fingers, he found it, rubbing it gently to push you over.

“Doyoung.“ He pushed his lips onto yours again roughly, surely leaving a bruise from how hard. All you heard were your muffled screams as his fingers were buried deep inside your pussy. You arch your back into him, letting your tits cover his bare chest.

“Baby I’m want to fuck you so bad now.”

Doyoung wasn’t the longest, but he fit you, he fit you better than a lot of men could and he knew how to fuck. You could see the outline of his member through his white tenting boxer shorts. He was painfully hard, he palmed himself through his boxers and groaned.

“Let me,” You sat up, reaching out towards his boxers pulling them down steadily. He let you, watching the excitement in your eyes as his cock sprung free from his boxers. But he pushed your hands away.

“Let me be inside of you right now.” Doyoung was so incredibly gentle with you, no matter how many times you saw him in bare skin it excited you. Even when he was rough, he always found a way to make you feel okay, and you hated that he shared that with other girls.

“But I—”

“Please baby, please.” He spread your legs slowly across the bed, peeling each leg from the other to accommodate for his lanky body. This wasn’t how he usually liked to fuck you, he was normally rough, very rough. Him skipping a blow job, using a gentle touch, not calling you names was weird for you. Nonetheless, you didn’t object to it. No matter how you felt, one thing remained certain. You wanted him.

On his knees, he stroked himself, spitting on his hand and beginning to pump his shaft slowly with one hand. He lined himself up, slowly beginning to lay down on top of you. Within seconds he entered you in one hard thrust that made you moan out in pleasure. You never got over how well he fit inside you. Your friends would always talk about how their boyfriend had the biggest cock, but you doubted the notion that they pleasured them well or even at all. With Doyoung, every flaw you both had, everything about you two fit together, he knew what you wanted and made sure to give it to you. And you were sad to say that you felt at home with the whore hoarding CEO.

“God, you always feel so good,” He hissed, his face falling into your neck and a loud muffled groan drop from his lips. He moved slowly at first, pulling out of you with little force before burying himself in your walls once more.

You moaned, head thrown back on the silk sheets and your hands knotted in his hair. “Doyoung,” You croaked. “Why aren’t you going faster?” you could barely talk, your voice came unsteadily. Gripping your hips tightly with his slender hands.

“I wanna take my time tonight.” He wanted his time for you. Regardless of how many girls he had, he wanted to savor this. He made sure to thrust deep, hard, but slow. Working to find your sweet spot than to blindly fuck you. You could feel his tip hitting your cervix in painful pleasure.

“Doyoung!” You squealed, as he thrust harder, followed by a high moan.

“Keep moaning like that.” He grunted, eyes falling to your face.

So you did as he asked, performing for him, you cried even louder. A chain of panicked moans left his mouth as you involuntarily clenched around his cock, he was hitting all the right spots inside you, but he needed to do more to compensate for the slow speed.

“Can I touch you?” You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to find the words to tell him to do it, to make you writhe at his will. But instead, you nodded, seeing his hand travel down in between you, and rubbing small circles over the swollen bundle of nerves. “Like this?”

“Y-yes.” You choked out. Doyoung was so calm, yet filled with so much pleasure. You didn’t know there could be this side of him. Through your gasps and unprompted shudders, he had to lean only a centimeter to capture your lips in his.

His slow thrusts continued, alongside his fingers, still rubbing your clit as he tried to kiss you. Wrapping your arms around his neck, letting them dance across his back, he drove his tongue into your mouth widely. All at once a collective wave of emotions swarmed you, an urgency filled the room as you climbed closer and closer to your climax.

“I’m going--to come…” You groaned. Your fingers pulling the roots of his hair.

“Y/N.” Your vision blurred, you pulse around him, breathing shallow and sweat gathering over your body.

“Oh my god…” You whimpered, you had become oversensitive. Your legs began to rattle against his body, a loud string of low moans leaving Doyoung as you felt him realize into you. His head fell into your neck, moaning against your sweet skin.

He held you in his arms, continuing to moan until you both finally released. You both stayed in each other's arms for a moment, catching your breath, breathing ruggedly as Doyoung rolled off of you. Just as quickly as he got into the bed, he slung his legs over the side and got up, pulling on his discarded clothes.

“You’re leaving so soon?” He looked at you, zipping up his pants and shrugging silently. Your heart sank.

“I need to. We have a meeting tomorrow and I need to take a quick flight to Busan, I’ll be back princess, you’ll see me tomorrow, don’t worry.” You wanted to act like a man, your man, your boyfriend, your husband, but you knew you would asking too much. As much as you wanted him to be yours, you knew he never would be, and so your anger showed in your attitude.

“Why bother with Busan, we’re in Seoul.” A small smile played on his face, he seemed happy that you didn’t want him to leave. You wrapped the pale pink silk sheets around your body, and slowly ascended from the bed. You stood in front of him, hoping he wouldn't leave. Still smiling, he leaned forward and kissed your head, a little too lovingly.

“I got you something just before I came. I waited a couple weeks for it. It’ll atone for leaving so soon.”

You glanced at him curiously, your eyebrow cocking inquisitively. He did it again. He came, fucked you, stayed, and then left. He did it over and over again until the cycle felt never-ending. At first, you didn’t see a problem, but now, now you were in too deep.

He disappears behind your door, you can hear his quick footsteps as he goes to retrieve whatever it was he got for you. You couldn't help but be excited. Doyoung had money, Doyoung helped you with your career, but it wasn’t every day that he got you something without a request. He came back, a black necklace box in hand.

“For you,” he said, handing you the back box and excitedly awaiting your reaction. You opened it, a surge of happiness and shock flowing through you.

“Doyoung. How?” Your eyes widened, an ear to ear grin appeared on your face as you opened the box.

A month ago you had managed to get a seat at one of the most famous auctions there ever was. All the proceeds went to charity, but you were there for one thing. Taeyong always said you looked best in pearls, but not any pearls, not counterfeit imitated ones. Real, natural white pearls. And he was right, they looked gorgeous on you.

You had a budget of a 1.5 million, now that you could afford to make such a risky purchase, but someone outbid you. You were so upset when you found out you wouldn’t get the pearls that Doyoung had to spend at least a week putting up with your rants, irrational mood swings, and attitude. But now you were staring at the pearls, and it was because of him.

“I knew you wanted them so I had to get them. I want you to wear them tomorrow, you look sophisticated and elegant, and beautiful in pearls.” Doyoung’s voice sounded sensual as it trailed off.

“Thank you so much—Oh my god, I could photograph this! Did you know Pearls promote centeredness, faith, loyalty, truth, and purity. I mean, my fine art project could really—oh my god, thank you so so so much.“ Your mind ran in every which way, thoughts of gratitude and respect raced through your head, while there were ideas of love and photography. You lunged at him, arms wrapped around your waist, playfully pulling at the sheets. “It must of cost so much—”

“Don’t worry about it… but Y/N, I really need to get going. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He pulled away from you.

And without another word he was gone. And there was no proof he ever was actually there.

“I need to turn down that offer, I’ll take new photos for the design, but I won't allow you to use my past works!” You folded your hands together, glancing around the room at the businessmen that observed your photography portfolio. There was one girl there. She looked like she was plucked from a gucci store in some beautiful country, but she had a mental capacity of a fifteen-year-old.

“I mean, using your old ones would ensure they would turn out good, you photos recently have been pretty—”

“Pardon me for asking, but who are you, I haven’t seen you here before.” You sat at a table with reputable officials of Dyoung's company. You were held in high esteem at his enterprise. You were someone who was able to give Doyoung's company a mainstream vibe, generating buzz with the main media.

��Oh,” She laughed obviously as if you should've known who she was. “I’m new, but I’m Kim Dongyoung assistant, I take care of all the office needs and his needs as well.” You knew what she was. You never met his assistants, but people told you he went through them like cigarettes to an addict.

“This is a professional meeting with esteemed entrepreneurs, executives, and merchandisers. In this world, you build yourself up to power by connections and talent. I commend you for having such a difficult job, and starting a path to invent yourself. But you’re an assistant, know your place. Especially around people at this table. If I say that I don’t want past photos used then you can give me a concept or we can end the meeting and the company doesn't need me. Are we all clear?” Everyone nodded, taking what you had said into consideration.

You learned very fast that your vocabulary and persona had to change at places like this, sometimes you let yourself slip, as you did now. But you couldn't help it, she had this aura around her like she was fucking the CEO. Nevertheless, the rest of the people nodded, some smirking at your statement. To say the least, nobody really liked her.

“Ms. Y/L/N, I think since it’s going to be for the new computer he’s making, maybe we could go in the path apple had gone in. Great landscapes, flowers, I know you could absolutely make those amazing.” You smiled at the man, glancing at the girl momentarily and writing notes on your notepad. Where the fuck was Doyoung.

“Yes! I like that, but we could also do hipster things maybe,” the older women smiled. “My daughter, she goes to a lot of festivals and takes fantastic photos, they look so amazing, maybe we can get in touch with the interest of modern media and take pictures of those things.

“What’s your name Miss?” You asked flipping a page in your notepad to write it down.

“Oh!” She grinned happily.

“Ho Hyang-Soon. Spelled H-Y-A-N-G-Soon.” In the blink of an eye the door slowly creaked open, tensely, Doyoung appeared from the door.

“I’m sorry I’m late, I was held up at another meeting, if I had known I would have been late, I would have canceled, my deepest apologies,” He bowed down at everyone. He was good at lying sometimes, this was a lie he was particularly good at executing. You knew he had to be with one of his other girls. Regardless of what he was doing, you never asked you just nodded and did as you were told.

The meeting got pretty boring from that moment forward, they told you what photographs they wanted you to take and then you were basically done, the rest of the duration consisted of Doyoung calling more shots on the design of his computer.

You had never felt more happy to leave a meeting. Sometimes you thought they were fun. It was like coffee hour when Doyong wasn’t around. Other times they were absolutely boring.

You stood over Ms. Ho Hyang-Soon’s desk discussing her ideas towards the desktop art and photograpghy. You could tell she was flattered you had decided to talk to her and acknowledge her idea, it was very hard to do that with Doyoung.

However, the smile soon disappeared from your face when the doors to Doyoung’s office opened and revealed him and his shotty new assistant. Her hand was placed on his shoulder as he talked to one of his office friends, her smile wickedly evil as she glanced at you. You touched the pearls on your neck, realized that you had worn something he had given. You looked weak. Despite having an agreement, you felt betrayed.

Dismissing yourself from the women and sauntering past the couple, you got angrier. As tempting as it was, killing someone in a workplace would be incredibly unprofessional and you were no insufficient pirahea. You in fact were a great, great businesswoman. You reached to back of your neck, unclasping the pearls that burned your skin with embarrassment and shoved it into the pocket of you pants suit. How could he do this to you? In a workplace as well.

You didn’t turn around, although you did hope he would call your name to go after you, he didn’t.

Minutes later, of more pining and pitying of yourself, you decided to get back on track and talk to more people. It was as if every minute Doyoung wasted, made you more and more anxious about him not coming at all. It almost hurt how much he didn’t care. As much as Doyoung had helped you, somehow you felt that he still thought of you as a little girl. You tried desperately to show him you were women, in more ways than one.

You excused yourself from yet another person and strolled over to his office. You loved being in there, it was massive, it had a huge window with a view of all of Sueol. You reached his door, pulling it open. “Doy—oh my god.” You stood at the door, seeing at the door, opened halfway seeing his assistant on his lap, her dress pulled up, and his pants pulled to his ankles. Doyoung's eyes widened, glancing at the girl who had taken his cock. You closed the door, making sure nobody behind you had seen.

You shook your head, trying to get the visions out of your mind and to keep going. But all that was racing through your mind was the disgusting pictures playing through your mind. You didn’t think sex was disgusting. But when you watched someone you liked doing it, it got hundreds of times more abominable and atrocious than just watching porn. You had immediately set off to find that women again, you had been having a nice conversation with her before this whole mess started.

And then not so long after he came out, leaving his assistent behind. It was amusing to you how composed he looked, it was as if nothing ever happened. He fixed his tie while looking around the fancy office searching for you. It was as if he wasn’t just being pleasured. Frankly, you didn’t care if he had sex, it was who it was with the mattered to you. You wanted that to be you, and only you. He took long strides over to you, brushing his black hair from his eyes and standing in front of you and the women.

He bowed to the women, verbalizing something in Korean, before turning to your and motioning his head in another direction.

“Could I please talk to you Y/N?” His eyes looked everywhere but your eyes, too embarrassed to look at you.

“It’s okay Ms. Y/N, I’ll be fine.” Bashful about turning down Doyoung in front of someone in public, you had no choice but go with him, and you weren’t looking forward to what he was going to discuss with you.

Pulling you into an empty corridor, he heaved a heavy sigh and knotted his finger in his hair. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” He whispered quietly. “I didn’t mea—”

“It’s fine, luckily I found you and not somebody else.” You felt defiled, dirty even, awaken to what scandalous deed you two were actually doing.

“Yeah, but still, I don’t know how I would feel If I saw you bein—Why did you take your necklace off? It looked nice.” You felt like hitting him very, very hard. If you don’t know how you would feel, then why do it?

“It’s not like we’re dating Doyoung, it doesn't matter.”

Everyone at the meeting was praising you, but even with recognition from everyone in the world, if you didn’t have Doyoung’s you weren’t satisfied. He shrugged, after hearing from you.

“I guess your right,” He mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “But why did you take it off?”

“I think pearls aren’t for me,” You trailed off. “But what about the symbolization, didn’t you say it promoted centeredness and such. “

“Loyalty actually.” Doyoung nodded, his big brown eyes soft as he looked at you. He didn’t say anything, making your uncomfortable under his stare. “Like I said, I don’t think they’re for me. And I should get going.” You started to walked away, but his grip on your waist stopped you.

“Is Ji-Su bothering you? I heard what happened before I got to the meeting.”

His stare held concern and a twinge of sadness, continuing to search for your shifty eyes.

“She seems nice.” You complimented. “When she isn’t acting like a bitch.”

“I’ll fire her,” He blurted out shifting on his feet awkwardly. “If you don’t like it, I mean. I’ll fire her. You have to come here, and I don’t want it to be unbearable.”

You turned to look down the corridor at the elevator. “Yeah, well, my work here is done. I need to get home.”

It’s funny how things like this work. One moment you’re a struggling college student and the next you’re a world-renowned photographer, loved by artists and models. Now you were in Japan taking landscape photos and plant photos for Do-young's new computer system, trying to find the perfect default screensavers. That day after you caught Doyoung, you got home and threw yourself into your photography, being able to get more fine art pieces out, before you esteemed Calvin Klein campaign you were shooting a week later.

Doyoung had said he wanted to come with you, that he would be arriving a day after you in Japan to help choose things to photograph. But it’s been four days in Japan and four weeks since you’ve seen him. You figured like always that he was either busy with work or with one of his other whores.

But maybe they weren’t as dumb as you, breaking his first rules and actually starting to like him. This was a deal, a partnership, not a thing for you to break your heart over. He had money to throw away, which is probably why he was letting girls take his money so easily. He was in fact, despite what he says, a very, very lonely man. Even with all the girls on his side,, there was no denying there was a void inside his lonely heart. Sometimes you asked yourself why you stayed with him. And then you realized that you had no desire to leave because you would be just as lonely as him.

When it read eleven PM on the illuminated digital clock, you knew he either didn’t care or simply forgotten. It was most likely the fact he didn’t care. You set the teapot on the stove of Doyoung's unused Japan vacation house and set it at a low heating level, letting the fruit tea settle in the sifter. You heard the door slam, and the familiar footsteps of Doyoung’s dress shoes. You turned around, his hair was disheveled, but his suit remained classic and elegant. He stormed towards you, passing the dining table and living room to get to the kitchen.

“I’m so so sorry Y/N,” He pushed you into the counter, brushing the hair from your face. He was out of breath as if he just ran here. He kissed you suddenly. The smack of your lips filled the room as he continued to kiss you. And then he put both hands on your waist, steadying himself and his kisses changed, something you never got from him before. He kissed you slowly, passionately. His hands roamed up your body and cupped your throat, moving to your cheeks. “I’m so sorry.” Your arms tangled up around his neck, wanting it, wanting him.

“You’re always sorry,” You mumbled on his lips, kissing him slowly again.

“I mean it this time. I do.”

“Mmm,” You joked, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. His fingers were like matches to your skin, even a graze lit you on fire.

You knew he didn’t love you back or even like you. But you didn’t care, you couldn't resist his touch. He pulls away softly, brushing his lips against yours again. It wasn’t sexual, no, it was innocent as if he was having his first kiss again.

“Doyoung what’s wrong with you.”

“Nothing.” He kissed your cheek, a defensive lilt in his voice. His kisses traveled down your neck towards your ear. “I just missed you so much.” You couldn't believe him.

“Are you sure? Where have you been?”

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but all I want right now is to fuck you. Can you do that?” He said a little annoyed. But you didn’t listen to the annoying part, you listened to how scared he was.

“Yeah baby, we can.”

In an instant, he grabbed the underside of your thighs, pushing you onto the counter and tearing your sweatpants down your legs. Trying equally as hard to pull off your pink panties you wore just in case for scenarios like this. He peeled your legs from each other and looked down at you, the most exposed you. He ran his dainty finger over your slit all the way to your clit. He looked pulled your legs above his shoulders, leaning down slowly and coming face to face with your heat. He kitty licked you slowly. You squirmed at the feeling, waiting for him to do more to you. He didn't always eat you out, he used it as a reward system, but you didn’t know what you did that was worthy of his reward. And then he pushed his head into you, his tongue darting deeper and deeper inside of you, licking up your wetness that he started to create.

In pleasure, you took a fistful of his black hair, pushing his head further, you could hear his muffled moans as you did. His mouth was placed gently of your clit, sucking and darting your tongue under the little hood. You bucked your hips into him, your legs beginning to shake against his broad shoulders. And then he pushed two fingers inside of you. Gasping at the sensation, a high moan leaves your lips. With every thrust of his fingers, you feel yourself reaching your climax.

“C’mon baby, come for me.” And just as he said that you came onto his fingers, your juices quickly being lapped up by his tongue. You were never good with polyamorous relationships, you got too jealous for your own good. You didn’t want anyone else being pleasured by Doyoung but you, and you wanted to be the only one to touch him. He pushed your legs off of him, glancing at you momentarily, before taking his lips onto yours.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He whispered his breath on your lips. You nodded slowly, feeling him grab your thighs and lift you up in his muscular arms. You turned your head and glanced at the counter, there was still a small pool of come next to the stove, and you suddenly became hyper-aware of how wet you were. You could be dripping onto Doyoung right now, or even on the floor. Nevertheless, he carried you to the Japanese bedroom.

The room was nearly pitch black except for the tiny leak of moonlight that spilled into the room. Something about him now was so gentle, the way he lightly set you down and watched you as he took off his clothes, peeling the black suit off his body. He did it early slow, observing your body furthermore. You sat up, waiting for him.

And when he sat down on the bed, fully naked except for his black boxers, you threw your legs on either side of him and got comfortable on his lap, continuing the slow, fervid kissing. He moaned into the kisses, his hands moving to your ass, to your hips, all over the place.

Ever so slowly, you place both your hands on his chest and pushed him down until he was lying on his back. You kissed and licked behind his ear, nibbled on his lobe, and kissing down his jawline to his cheek. You could feel the beautiful man’s clothed member hit your bare pussy, and you wanted him, you had wanted him so many times before this. But now, you didn’t just want to fuck him, you wanted to make love. And although you didn’t know quite what that was, you thought you could do it with, you thought you could find it.

You kissed his bare chest, worshipping every part of his body you came across until you got to his boxers. You took his boxers off, sliding them down his legs while your head followed, kissing his thighs, the inside of his knees. And now that the boxers were gone, you were going to take what you wanted for a long time.

You put your hand on his shaft. Feeling it smooth and under your touch. You stroked it gently. Up and down. It needed lubrication and I had just the perfect thing. Beads of pre-cum oozed from his head, licking it up with your velvety tongue. Doyoung mumbled something in Korean, looking down at you and grabbing a fistful of your hair.

Circling it slowly in your mouth, you moaned on his cock, finally feeling it in your mouth after months. He was smooth under your tongue, probing the tip and igniting every nerve. You licked lower, beneath the head and all the way down to the shaft. You massaged his balls in your hands, and slowly took his laugh in your mouth.

He was a good six inches, but a thick six inches, which was probably why he felt so good. To you, there was nothing better than a thick above average sized cock. You bobbed your head, moving up and down, hollowing out your mouth. You wanted him to make you his favorite, nobody could do it like you.

He pushed your head down, you could feel the tip of his cock hit your throat eliciting a gag, but you regained a hold of yourself. And soon you weren’t in control anymore, it was him, pushing your head up and down along his cock. Moaning words of encouragement to make him come. Then he stopped, slowly sitting up, prompting you to mirror his actions. He let you steady yourself on his lap, holding onto his shoulders.

“You have the mouth of a slut,” he whispered into your ear. “In and out of my beds.” He kissed down your neck and moved the strap of your tank top. “Take your shirt off, princess.”

His fingers played with the hem of your shirt, helping you pull it out. Luckily you wore no bra and you were completely naked in front of Doyoung. He took your breasts in his hand, kneading them roughly as you moaned. He chuckled a little, capturing your lips and kissing you.

He took your nippled between his fingers, rolling them over and making them hard.

“You’re so sexy princess,” He whispered, bringing your nipple to his mouth and sucking on it slowly, holding eye contact. You grabbed onto his shoulders, throwing your head back and moaning.

His slender fingers traced around the area, grabbing your tit and sucking softly, moving to the other breast.

His mouth hovered over you, his hot breath washing over your just-kissed skin. He squeezed your nipple again, while he took the other in his mouth, with enough force so you barely had time to register the pain. He left a couple hickeys. His hand gliding over your side and look down at where your bare pussy met his pelvis.

“Are you going to ride me, princess?” You nodded, getting up on your knees and holding onto his shoulders so he could position himself to enter you. You didn’t ride him a whole lot, it was when he was at work sitting in his chair or tired, maybe even a little vulnerable that he let you ride him. It meant having you in control, and he didn’t like that. He was a CEO, he wanted to be in control.

A stuttered groan came from Doyoung, reaching for your hips guiding your up and down as you made out slowly. He kept biting your lips and squeezing your ass. He leaned back a little, watching his cock plunge deep into your pink pussy.

You sped up, harshly slamming down on his cock, prompting high moans, and low moans.

A guttural moan released from his throat, he through his head in your neck and kissed you there, pleasure clouding his actions as he groaned at the feeling of your pussy. You loved how he acted when he was being pleasured, it was as if he couldn't take what you were giving him, he acted helpless, sometimes desperate.

You started fucking faster, Doyoung was meeting you halfway, slamming into your further, his thick cock stretching you out even more. You almost screamed, gripping on his shoulders and digging your nails into him. He moaned, flipping you quickly so he was on top of you.

“You’re marking me now?” He growled in your ear.

One thing he hated was being marked, that was one of his rules. Don’t mark him. You always thought it was because he was a businessman and he never wanted people to see it. But that wasn’t it. He must have liked being marked since he did it to you a lot, but even if you accidentally left bruises. “You can’t help yourself can you.” He took one hard thrust into you, making you whine out in pain and pleasure. You felt his warm seed fill you up a chain of profanities leaving his mouth. It came in spurts, one creaming into you, and the other shooting hard. His breath grew ragged and he whined out.

He gripped your hips. He wanted to fuck your harder. And he fucked you until you came, but he didn’t stop, he kept going, despite the fact he knew you had never gone farther when getting fucked with a cock. He increased speed as you held with him each thrust. He pushed into you so hard his breath got even shakier.

You were both panting, whining. Way over your breaking point, but you liked it. You wanted to come again. Even though Doyoung was at his wit's end, he wouldn't stop pushing himself until you came again, until you couldn't take his cock anymore. Your legs began to shake, they usually did whenever you had sex with Doyoung, and you came all over his cock. It was too much, he had fucked you to hard and too thoroughly. He pulled out of you slowly, watching your face relax.

You fell next to you, sitting up slowly and glancing over. You took heavy breaths, trying to calm yourself down.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow then. What hotel are you staying at?” You said, reaching over and snatching his black pants off the ground. He took them from you but didn’t make any advances to get up or put them on.

“Actually…” He said softly, reaching his long arms over to grab his boxers. “I think I want to stay the night.” He glimpsed at you shyly, asking for some seal of approval.

“Why?” He was silent, getting up momentarily to pull his black boxers up his legs. “Doyoung, what’s wrong?”

You asked the questions knowing he wouldn't be able to answer the question. He wasn’t good at articulating his emotions. He didn’t like putting himself out there, he didn’t like feeling vulnerable or looking at it. But he just ended up looking vulnerable anyways, keeping everything bottled up.

“You’re the only one,” he said whispering.

He wiped the beads of sweat off his forehead, his face illuminated from the moonlight. “What?”

“I want you.” He said more firmly. “I want you.” “Again? I mean we can go for one mo—” “No,” he stopped you, looking into your eyes softly. “I want you.” You finally knew what he meant. That he wanted you just a little more than what he was getting. That this sex was good, but he wanted a little more.

“Do you like me?” You asked, seeing him nod no slowly. But you knew he liked you, he admitted right then and there. “Do you love me?” He looked away from you, a shaky sigh leaving his mouth.

“I—”

“You don’t have to say it… if you do, you don’t have to say it.”

Love is a beautiful and scary thing all at the same time. For someone like Doyoung, he’s never tied down, so feeling something like that was new to him. Saying it to someone was weird and otherworldly. It made him feel vulnerable and you knew that. Baring out your heart and soul might leave you prone and vulnerable to hurt and pain, but sometimes taking the risk and letting it all out is one of the most amazing things that you’ll be able to experience. Doyoung needed his time, and he didn’t need to say it to you for you to know he did love you. He showed by his actions. Like the beautiful pearl necklace he got, and the relentless sorries he would always give.

So as he got up, pulling the covers off the bed and slipping in right before you did. A whisper left his lips.

“Thank you.”

And that’s how you knew he did. That’s how you knew he felt the same back. That you weren't just fucking him all this time, you were making love.

#doyoung smut #doyoung x reader #doyoung imagines #nct smut #nct imagines #nct x reader #doyoung

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