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selfproducingfanfictionauthor · 5 years ago

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to be treated this way - chapter i

pair: shownu x reader

summary: When your alpha - sort-of - found his true mate, you’re stuck dealing with the aftermath and the coming of your next heat. So when your friend suggested a “dating service” to aid you, signing up seemed like a no-brainer. So, you’ve prepared yourself for the dominance, the adrenaline-fueled by fear and arousal and the constant out-of-this-world sex but when you meet Shownu, everything you know about Alphas is challenged. He’s soft - for the lack of better word. He cooks you meals, he takes you out on dates… all of which are not really necessary for an Alpha - Omega relationship… right? Whatever. You’d just really, really, wish he’d touch you now warning: this story may be slow-paced at the start, no other warnings for now - also, boo seungkwan’s appearance! a/b/o dynamics!

Many poets and writers have tried, failed and came close to describing what true heartbreak is. Such fundamental human experience is so universal that many men and women across history have drawn inspiration from it and created amazing works of art - sculptures, plays, books and songs. At the back of your mind, you remember reading something like - “If nothing saves us from death, at least love should save us from life” and although it’s beautiful and you certainly want to be saved, you feel like it’s too dramatic to apply to your own situation.

Even though you certainly feel like dying right now.

Mouth dry and head pounding, you blearily open your eyes to the sight of your blinking alarm clock. The numbers 1:03 pm mocks you in all its inherent cheeriness. Underneath the cocoon of your warm bed, you squirm, sweating and uncomfortable – feeling like you just want to crawl out of your skin just to reach the itch between your skin and bones. Fists closing and unfurling, you try to resist the urge to scratch, knowing that there’s nothing to find beneath, nothing to offer you relief.

Kicking off your sheets, you try to reign in the uneasiness. At the back of your ears, you feel the itch worsen, crawling down your nape burning down its path. Rubbing yourself against the scratchy texture of your bedsheets feels like heaven and hell alternating between five seconds – the brief relief only highlighting the torment of your hormones tenfold.

Time seem to pass too slowly as you try to muster the strength to get up. But your body refuses to cooperate, your limbs heavy and your mind foggy. This is what you hate the most about suppressants, the side-effects feels like punishment for being born an omega. Your head feels like it’s submerged underwater, and you don’t hear your apartment door opening with a bang.

“I’m here!” Seungkwan sings, grocery bags hanging from his arms. His eyes roam your kitchen before landing on you through your open bedroom door. At the sight of you, his mood drops. ”Oh my god, what are you doing!”

Your best friend rushes over to you and grasps your wrists, quickly pulling it away from your arms.

Streaks of scratches marred your neck and arms while you tremble. He notes with a small amount of relief, that at least, you didn’t break skin.

Aish, this girl.

Relief flood you at the familiar smell of your friend and his cool hands, drawing away from the heat marked by your nails. You let him drag you up to your couch. Sitting down, he grasps your wrists with one hand and reaches for one of the grocery bags with his other.

“Next time I see him, I’m gonna kick him in the nuts.” Seungkwan swears, agitated. Between the two of you, there’s only one person he could be referring to. You wince at the thought of Geun-woo, the alpha who had once frequented your bed. Pulling you out of your thoughts, Seungkwan fishes out a sheet of tablets and pops one open for you.

Trusting you to control yourself, he lets go of your wrists and hands you a bottle of water from the same bag.

“It’s not his fault he found his true mate, Seungkwanie.” You sigh, after swallowing the pill. You don’t know if it’s placebo or not, but immediately, the irritating itch and heat under your skin recedes.

The beta rolls his eyes. True mates, bah – people throw it around like a free pass. “True mate or not, it doesn’t mean he gets to drop you like a hot sweet potato – which you are, sweet and you look like a potato, woman, get yourself together! – and ride off into the sunset. Any decent alpha knows that omegas need weaning –”

Seungkwan goes off on a rant that you’ve heard on loop for the past week.

Geun-woo was a friend from the university. As alphas tend to be, he was popular and well-liked by your peers. His designation spurred him to be in the best shape he could be, drove him to win championship after championship for your university football team. After graduation, he went on to train for the national team and was – is – on his way to being a national athlete.

You could talk on and on about who Oh Geun-woo is to many people, but you could summarize what he was to you in three words: not your boyfriend.

The arrangement between the two of you was simple. You were adults, busy people living busy lives interrupted almost monthly by your heats and ruts. It was a logical and practical way to ensure that neither of you spend your vulnerable biological ~events~ alone. It was a good arrangement and after two years of it, you could honestly call Geun-woo a good friend.

However, the downside with spending such time so often with someone you’re not bonded with is you develop what experts call, a quasi-bond. It has all the effects of being bonded but dialed down by almost a hundred. You think it’s an exaggeration but you, an unbonded omega, really isn’t in the position to do so.

So when, Geun-woo found his true mate at some meet abroad, he dropped you faster than you could blink.

You don’t blame him, but man, it sucks.

Seungkwan glanced at you, sighing at your silence. Sending a prayer above, he fishes his wallet and takes out a card. “I have a suggestion.”

With your heat coming at you, barreling in the next two weeks, you’re just about open to any suggestion so, you hum behind your coffee mug, “The floor’s yours.” Well, at least the little of it that’s still visible under your clothes and knick-knacks.

“Before you say anything, know that I am suggesting this out of the goodness of my heart. But why don’t you consider this?” Seungkwan implored, handing you the card.

The black and purple card reads; “SS Matching Services” and under it, their company motto; “We’ve got the match for you.” With their office address and contact number.

“A pimping service?”

“Ya,” Seungkwan protested, red-faced, “Take your 19th century standards out of the gutter.”

His adamant protest startles a laugh out of you. For the guy who used to glare at anyone holding hands in public, your best friend has grown well. “Actually, it was worse in the 19th century but go off, I guess.”

Seungkwan leveled you with a flat look that had you raising your hands in surrender. No good can come from antagonizing the guy who just quite literally saved your life. “I’m listening.”

“Look, it’s just an option and it’s legit. Tough screening process too.” He takes out his phone and shows you the company’s website. Briefly, you glance at it before taking the card. Physically, it weighs like nothing but in your mind, it weighs like something amazing.

“How’d you know that?”

“My sunbaenim, uses this from time to time. It helps with his ruts. Win-win.” Seungkwan shrugs. You wonder which sunbae he’s referring to, given his many hobbies.

The website doesn’t look like it’ll give your laptop a virus, you’ll give it that. It’s classy and clean, and no random photos of just naked torsos. Good sign.

“You’re surprisingly blasé about this.” You laugh, eyes warm and surprised at how maturely Seungkwan delivers, only to laugh out loud at the sight of his burning ears.

You promised Seungkwan that you’ll check out the site but as soon as you got back to work, everything just swept you away.

That’s what happens when you work with kids.

Eyes warm with fondness, you quietly pat the bottom of one of your snoozing students. It’s nap time and your classroom has turned into some sort of sleepover area with all your students wrapped up with their soft blankets, nuzzling into their softer pillows. The early afternoon light filters into the room through the curtains, painting over the children with a soft glow.

Across you, another teacher takes the opportunity to get some of her own sleep in, curling herself protectively around two kids. Your classroom smells like baby powder and sweet treats, littered with small pastel chairs and tables. Its walls decorated with your students artworks and colorful cartoon characters.

This, this is one of the many moments that remind you why you became a pre-school teacher.

Many of your peers assumed it’s because of your designation. Omegas are naturally more inclined to take positions that require caretaking, given the innate desire to give care to others. Just like alphas are more likely to take positions that require leadership.

However, you muse, cooing as the young beta in front of you snuggle closer to your lap, many tend to gloss over the many manifestations of one’s designation. It’s true that by virtue of being an omega, you’re naturally more inclined to take care of your peers. Your so-called softness being the defining quality of your group.

But your omega manifestation is… a bit different. Sometimes, it makes you wonder how you got hired as a preschool teacher in the first place.

“Teach’r, sleepy time?”

Glancing down, you see the young beta pout at you. Waving away your thoughts, you slide down to her side and let the afternoon light lull you to sleep. All thoughts about your heat fading away quietly.

Soon, naptime was over and so is the day. Parents slowly trickle in, one after another, to pick up their children. Most of them harried from work, but still smiling at you and your co-teachers in gratitude.

“See you tomorrow, Rahui!” You call, as the last student leaves.

The little girl in her puffy sweater turns and smiles at you sweetly. “Bye, bye, teacher! Sleepy time!”

You flush at your student’s comment much to her mother’s confusion. After falling asleep earlier, you’d woken up to a clean classroom and several of your students hovering over you. Your pre-heat symptoms felt like they’re coming too fast for your taste.

Waving her off with a smile, you untie your apron and walk to the staff room where the others are. It’s almost 6 pm, and your daily staff meeting’s in session. In front of the room is your superior, an older bonded omega, with deep dimples on her cheek.

“Good job today, everyone.” She starts off, smiling at the soft cheers from everyone. “As you know…”

Your superior continues on to talk about the children’s upcoming activities. Vaguely, you hear her talk about a field trip, or is it a field demo? Shaking your head, you try to clear your thoughts but it seem like everything’s underwater, and no sound is escaping from her lips.

“… right, y/n?”

Blinking, you focus, and sent her a sheepish smile. “Sorry, you were saying?”

Your superior smiles forgivingly, “I was asking about that self-defense class you’ve been wanting to teach. When would you like to schedule it? Of course, pending approval with everyone’s schedule.”

Immediately, a large smile appears on your cheek. It’s approved?? You’ve been proposing that seminar for months. Most of the omega teachers were wary of the thought but warmed up to it recently. Especially when you mentioned how it’ll help them protect their kids – their students – more.

“How about two weeks from now?”

“Anytime!” You offer. The enthusiasm isn’t lost on your co-workers, some of them shaking their heads in amusement.

Your superior looks over your office board and hums at the chart. It contains all your schedules, including leaves, conferences to attend and heat cycles. With one look, your heart drops.

“Actually…” you start off, wincing at the thought of inconveniencing everyone because of your biology. “My heat is coming up in two weeks…”

Surprisingly, or not, omegas are actually quite liberal in discussing things like this. It’s simply part of the biology you live with. So your mortification is unfounded as your co-workers nod in understanding, quickly suggesting different dates.

Your superior nods, and glances at your work log book. “Well, we could schedule maybe four weeks from now to get you time to recover? Don’t forget to file your leave.”

Right.

“I still can’t believe she flew you in for her rut.” Jooheon’s laugh and disbelief reaches Shownu’s ears before he even steps inside. Smiling to himself, he finds his friends lounging in his living room, completely comfortable and completely unexpected.

Jooheon looks up at his arrival, “Hi, hyung! We let ourselves in!”

“I can see that.” Shownu nods in greeting, trying to remember who he gave his spare keys to. He’s pretty sure he didn’t make six copies of his set. Shrugging off his coat, he look on, realizing how his living room looks smaller with a bunch of guys occupying it. Jooheon and Minhyuk are on his couch, Changkyun’s on his stomach on the floor, playing with his phone and, Hyunwoo and Kihyun are by the window drinking a can of beer each.

That’s one, two, three… four, five…

“Hey, you’re home! And – are those protein bars?” The paper bag is snatched from his hand, before Shownu registers, blinking slowly as Wonho disappears once again into the kitchen.

The smell of jajjangmyeon invades his senses. Ah, yes, guys’ night.

Shortly after his arrival, everyone gathers in the dining room. With the two youngest improvising chairs out of the boxes Shownu hasn’t had the chance to unpack, having just moved into his new home a month ago.

To the eldest’s surprise, everyone pitched in with dinner, bringing different dishes and filling the dining table. Assorted cuts of meat are sizzling over the portable electric grill Wonho brought, several small plates of side-dishes and… are those buttered crabs he’s seeing? “What’s this?”

Minhyuk shoots him an amused glance over his beer, “You don’t really think we’ll let you off without a house warming, right?”

Shownu blinks, a small bashful smile forming on his lips, “But I’ve been here a month.”

An arm wraps around his shoulder and a weight shakes him back and forth. Kihyun rolls his eyes, getting into his personal space. “This is the first time we’ve been complete for a month! Just enjoy it!”

Jooheon hums, his cheeks filled with lettuce and meat from the grill. “Yeah, I mean, though it’s only Minhyuk-hyung that hasn’t been around, too busy getting his dick wet.”

“Oi!” their youngest protests, ears burning and nearly spitting out his drink. “We are eating.”

Wonho heartily “taps” Changkyun’s back, laughing. “We’re all adults here. It’s not as if you haven’t heard or said anything worse, Kyunie.”

“Yeah, daddy~” Hyungwon hits, reminding everyone of one very particular incident in college that featured a younger Changkyun and a girl from the bar, and the very thin walls of their shared apartment.

Changkyun flushes before rolling his eyes, “At least I get some. Can’t say the same to you.”

Scoffing, Minhyuk raises his hands, “Excuse me, I have no problem with that.”

Before Minhyuk starts to dive into his sexual exploits, Kihyun saves the day and shoves a piece of meat into his mouth and diverts the conversation to work.

Over food and drinks, Shownu and his friends catch up on their personal lives �� not having as much time to get together as before. Not with Wonho’s celebrity coaching taking off, Jooheon and Changkyun’s new artist, Kihyun’s voice academy and Hyungwon’s and Minhyuk’s modelling.

Sometimes, Shownu feels left behind by the big dreams his friends are living but every day, he wakes up and goes home happy as a chef and food blogger. His appetite thanking him for the career path he chose. Besides, as Changkyun said, he could go big time if he wants, it’s just a matter of self-promotion which he’s terrible at given his shy personality.

Dinner passes by with a blur and they find themselves nursing their last beers when Jooheon circles back to Minhyuk’s vacation.

“So, hyung. How does it feel to fulfill your sugar baby dreams?” The young alpha jokes, his dimples appearing on his cheeks as he elbows Minhyuk.

Stars appear in the latter’s eyes and with a dreamy sigh, he responds jokingly, “Just as I’ve always dreamed.”

The one of the only two omegas of their group has never shied away from talking about his exploits, his looks and all the advantages he gets from it. Often, he jokes that’s why he became a model – to be admired and to fulfill his duties to the world and bless them with his godly looks.

“She flew me to her family’s island, and we spent her rut and my heat underneath the blanket of stars.” Minhyuk recounts, all dreamy-eyed, “I felt really spoiled.”

“I bet.” Kihyun remarked, smirking. “Is this the girl you’ve been telling us about?”

Ignoring Hyungwon’s cough of which one, Minhyuk nods, “Yes!” and turns to Shownu, “She’s actually friends with Nayeon – who, by the way, is asking me about you, hyung.”

Shownu blinks, before handing a can of beer to Wonho across him. “Me?”

“Yeah, she asked why you never called her.”

A chorus of ooh’s echoes in the room followed by a few gruff laughter. Shownu ducks his head and nurses his drink. Nayeon’s a nice girl, a model that he met when Minhyuk called in a favor for him to substitute as one of their shoot’s models after the original model called in sick. She gave him his number on a piece of paper before departing with a sultry look and a flying kiss.

Contrary to popular belief, Shownu is not dense – or, more like, he’s not that dense.

“Ah,” Shownu starts, “Um. I don’t think we’re looking for the same thing.”

Wonho pauses and eyes him, before levelling the younger guys with a look that has them catching their teasing remarks and keeping it to themselves. Wonho has known Shownu the longest and knows that though his friend’s an alpha, physically, through and through, his disposition often throws people off.

He’s soft when others are hard. Soft-spoken, patient like a saint and very careful with his actions and words. Wonho doesn’t even remember if he’s ever seen his friend get angry or aggressive in the span of their long friendship.

A romantic at heart, through and through.

“Well,” Kihyun claps, breaking the quiet, “You know, no point in pursuing something that you know’s a dead end, right?”

Minhyuk pouts, sometimes a little bit insensitive in his enthusiasm, “But she’s cute! And she’s an omega too! Besides – wait—how do you even deal with your ruts?”

Shownu’s face lights up like a lantern, the drinks doing nothing about the flush crawling up his neck. It’s not like he’s never spent it with someone, but every time, after the week of his rut, he always feel tired and empty. So for the past ruts, he’s been dealing with it - “Alone, with suppressants.”

“Yah, I thought you’d stopped taking those!”

Constant use of suppressants for an alpha fucks up their cycle and even their moods. Wonho knows this the best because he was on it for several months back in college, before he started becoming confident enough in his newfound muscles and height.

“I did.” Shownu nods, assuring his friends. “I don’t use them anymore. Just when I’m… you know. It’s just easier to deal with.”

All the alphas in the room scoff under their breaths. Yeah, it’s easy if easy felt like walking and dancing on hot coal in the middle of the hottest summer day. It’s not as if their eldest can’t get a woman just by standing by the bar, being his awkward self.

At their little corner, Jooheon and Changkyun glance at each other, years of friendship evident in their wordless communication. Changkyun tilts his head, eyes widening and jaw clenched, “Go”, he mouths.

Jooheon pouts, “Do you know how hard it is to get into their mixers, punk?”

Shrinking at Changkyun’s flat stare, Jooheon rolls his eyes and sends a prayer to the universe asking for good karma.

“Hyung, what do you think about dating services?”

Notes: The stage is set for our two protagonists! I tried to incorporate as much world-building and character backgrounds as I can without it being over the top. Please leave comments and asks! :) I’m trying to stick to weekly updates. Also, support Monsta X’s next comeback!

#shownu x reader #monsta x shownu #monsta x imagines #monsta x fanfiction #abo dynamics #seungkwan cameo appearance #because im a moncarat #seungkwan's a pimp #sort of #alpha shownu #omega reader #quite the lore for abo #monsta x comeback #monsta x x reader #monsta x #son hyunwoo fanfiction

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unboundbnha · 4 years ago

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hoooo my god. this is for ME

for me. for godzilla. :’)

➤ rules; make headcanons of you and a character of your choice, be it sfw or nsfw.

Thank you so much for tagging me @spicyness! I’m gonna SKAJHDSKJ. HHHHH. This is everything? Fuck I just want a purple boyfriend 😫 this will be about Shinsou because I like him a normal amount :-)

First off, I’m a pain in the ass. My sense of humor is wack (it’s basically just ‘annoy my friends and loved ones’), I’m always fricken TANKING The Mood (because it’s funny and I physically cannot resist making a Funny if the opportunity’s there), everything turns into a game unless you make me stop wink wonk. Shinsou seems like the type to snort in amusement and roll his eyes at my dumb antics, and I appreciate that! If I could make him legit laugh I’d die happy. (I am also emotionally savvy enough to know when to draw the line though, don’t worry. It’s just, man, my idea of fun is ‘LET’S ROAST ‘EM’)

I love cats. I’ll lose my whole mind over them. They NEED head kisses. Shinsou also likes cats. He also needs head kisses. That’s it, that’s the bullet point

Being open and honest and genuine is important to me. I believe most any relationship (friendship or otherwise) can work if you’re willing to communicate and empathize with the other person: I would 100% be willing to hear Shinsou’s shit, and he seems like he’d be a good listener too. I’m also good at logicking things through and he seems like he’d appreciate that. Likewise, he seems like he’d do the same for me, and as long as we stayed humble and weren’t looking to be offended (I don’t Do That -- he’s a Cancer -- love you, Cancers -- so it might take him a minute to get on the same page, but he’s emotionally smort and cares about me so I think he’d be willing to work at it) then we could help each other through emotionally hard stuff with hard truths. Plus, I’m a super honest person: if he was in a relationship with me he’d probably be pretty secure in knowing I wouldn’t hurt him on purpose. If past shit comes up with him, I’ll talk to him. Talking’s the good shit, y’all: utilize patience and empathy and you’ll be so well off!

I also battle, with a big fucking sword, a lot with mental health stuff (LMAOOOO WHO DON’T!!! YEET). I used to struggle with agoraphobia and still deal with anxiety and depression. On top of that, I have something like chronic fatigue -- I’ve been calling it chronic fatigue because I’m fucking tired, all the time. My top energy levels are like a 35% on a fantastic day. I really like the idea of this boye seeing me melting into a puddle, face down on the carpet, and bein like “how’s it going down there? you okay?” and the answer being obviously no, but him just like. Man I dunno. He seems like the kind of person who’s tired, but who can live with it. I can’t! When I’m tired, that’s it babes! I hit a 0% on my battery and I’ll collapse! So I just, hhhh. Don’t laugh, but I like to fantasize about him bundling me up and into bed. Thinkin’ about Birthday Snoot by my good friend @lord-explosion-baku and melting, okay?? OKAY???? I’m soft, the truth’s OUT, FUCK! I want to be taken care of like a sad but pampered cat.

(Please read Birthday Snoot I still cry over it)

Also I’m gross and struggle to shower often enough because it’s exhausting so bein given a gentle bath? oh MAN. Hands softly running through my stupid, terrible hair...asking me about my day and if anything happened that triggered me feeling this bad...just....the tenderness....the gentle affection.....being loved even when I’m at my lowest. Being cared for when I can’t do it myself. That’s a legit fantasy y’all. We out here!

I love to SNOOZE. I love being COZY. You bet your sweet bippy I’m gonna sprawl over a couch and take up the whole thing. Shinsou’d better be willing to snuggle the fuck up. I’ve got great squish which I personally feel like’s great for cuddling: I’m like warm taffy. How better to gently seep into every crevasse of your Favorite Person while enjoying a cozy cuddle?

Listen, everyone fucks hard with Shinsou calling his S/O ‘kitten’, and I agree (def have written leetle -- HOO -- leetle scenarios with that nickname because wow) but I get all wibbly with the idea of He calling me ‘Angel’. A joke at first because, like, guys, I’m really nice. (I know it sounds bad when people say they’re nice and LSDFLKJDF I AM, OKAY. I’ve worked on it. Cultivated the skill of kindness! Being kind isn’t easy, and sometimes you just wanna go apeshit, but I’ve worked hard to improve upon myself! Yeet!) But I also just really fucking love being annoying. I simply cannot resist the urge to sneak up behind someone and poke them in the ribs. I rib-poke while in the deep depths of making out too, I’ve tanked the mood a lot so picture my dumb ass Pink Panther’ing behind Shinsou, prepared to be Evil while he’s, idk, making breakfast or something, and before I can commit a Rib Crime he uses his hero training and fast reflexes and honed senses and all that good stuff to snatch my wrist and ask “what’re you up to, angel?” the answer is nothing, because he’s killed me by being sexy and fast and hero-y, and he’s probably actually killed me by startling me into collapsing like a fainting goat

He gets the deep stuff. Unfortunately for everyone and especially myself, I’m a Thinker with a capital T: it never fucking stops. I had an existential crisis for like three years in a row because of course, but I feel like he knows what it’s like to get lost in your head. Working each other out of panic attacks because holy jesus the universe sure is fucking huge huh? We’re not even a blip on the radar in the history of existence and we’re gonna be dead basically tomorrow aaaand that’s why we’d be good for each other, because I feel like we both have coping mechanisms that keep us from spiraling too bad, and we could share them with each other.

I also so fucking admire his drive, but it makes me angry that stupid fucking hero society would discriminate in the first place.

Oh, yeah, that’s another good point: I’m hella mad about 98% of the time and I work hard to hide it! Because innocent people don’t deserve to get yelled at! I feel like Shinsou’s smart enough to sense when I’m about to pop and he can be like “heyyyyy...you wanna talk this out constructively instead of getting into a public brawl?” and I’ll be like “NO but I’ll do it for you because I love you” and then we get pizza.

Because I’m fine and balanced and stuff, I made a quirk for myself if I was in the BNHA-verse, and basically I can get stronger at the expense of higher thinking skills and will turn into a weapon of mass destruction against whatever I’m pointing at (ugh, that’s so sexy. Fuck I wanna be a big spooky buff as shit monster thing), friend or foe, so Shinsou and I would work well in tandem because if I got too rowdy he could use his quirk and get me to calm down! Keep me from accidentally doing a murder! Nice!

Okay this is nsfw so if you’re under 18 DON’T READ IT. I’LL CALL YOUR PARENTS. GET OFF MY BLOG.

Relating to the point above, QUIRKPLAY. Mind control me into stuff I want to do but am too awkward to ask for, please and THANK you. Also, Shinsou’s a top. Gotta be, and thank god for it because I’m certainly not. I’m not happy about being a fucking bottom, because my first and most powerful personalty trait is ‘be as annoying as possible to the people you like; don’t let them tell you what to do.’ Can’t make it easy on myself, nope. Anyway, I want the appearance of being a top without the responsibility because damn, gotta be like, suave and shit. Gotta plan stuff. I don’t like that! I do that enough in real life and I don’t like it there, either! But whatever. I’m a brat and I feel betrayed by my coochie for it. But Shinsou’s a top and he’d tease me for being Fucking Terrible, and suddenly I wouldn’t be so mad at my coochie. She has her reasons.

I...like Shinsou for a lot of reasons, but a really big one, for sure, is that I feel like he can communicate about the important stuff. He likes to tease, but he knows when to be serious too. I’m really wack about being close and intimate with people and I have, hhh, special requirements to be able to sleep with them, and I feel like he’d both be able to respect AND honor that. Like, run through the rest of the BNHA boys with me here: would Bakugou be able to be completely cool, calm, and collected while still teasing, but knowing where to draw the line? Todoroki’s closer maybe, but he’s not as people-smart (which is also a big thing for me). Confidence (or at least the appearance of it when it’s important), respect, communication, listening and respecting what I ask for even if it seems wack -- Shinsou has that, and god is it attractive.

Also, mind control.

Also, his capture weapon.

Also you know this motherfucker is kinky as shit. Thank the good lord.

Also, sexy-slow makeouts with his long, nimble hands running up my outer thighs to squeeze my waist -- teeth on neck, stolen gasps of breath --

\\\\\\

I feel bad because all of this, fuckin, WALL of text is pretty much ‘this is what purble boy can do for me’ and I don’t say a lot I’d do for him, but if I got someone like him I’d go to the end of the earth for them. I may be a perpetually-sleepy bitch, but one of my best -- and worst -- character traits is my unwavering loyalty. I’ll be 110% down to kick anyone’s ass who insults him: he can fight his own battles, but he shouldn’t have to over some dumbass with a big mouth and a little brain. Making him smile and laugh, oof, be still my beating heart. Words of encouragement when life gets too much. Genuine thanks for his help, whatever it may be. Hugs, because we’re both touch-starved as fuck and he deserves gentleness, dammit. He doesn’t seem like his love language is receiving gifts -- more like quality time and words of affirmation? Maybe physical touch? -- but I’d still get him little things that made me think of him, that could help him in his day to day life or maybe just bring a smile to his face. We could rescue each other at social conventions, have dates to the humane society and play with cats. Support each other through our depression days, prove that even having a brain that’s mean to you sometimes doesn’t make you unlovable. Man, idk. The whole thing’s soft and makes my heart go doki-doki. Hitoshi Shinsou is an extremely good person and god damn I’d want to show him I appreciated him and existing at the same time as him. He deserves love and kindness. He deserves someone to kiss every knuckle of his hand. He deserves hugs in the kitchen and blankets being pulled over his shoulders when he falls asleep at the desk. He deserves only good things, and I’d be honored to give them to him.

HHHHH.

Okay! If you made it to the end of this, congratulations! You don’t actually get anything, but boy oh boy you have a lot of information about ME now! Aren’t you delighted? Heh. So! You tag people for this stuff, and I’m gonna tag @lord-explosion-baku, @bnhascribbles, @perpetual-bed-head, @russianonion, @weebsinstash, and last but certainly not least, @usernamekate94. Tell me about Monoma, Kate. Tell me.

#god this is a mess. anyway #I just! he's a good boy brent!!!! ;_;#self ship meme #author x character #I would feel embarrassed if I possessed the ability to feel embarrassed #I'm weak for one (1) man: so WHAT if he's fictional #I can daydream about giving him the hugs he deserves!!! AND I WILL

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thdorkmagnet · 5 years ago

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Chapter 8: Bonding With a Butterfly

Summary: His whole life Marco Diaz has been raised by monsters, living under the cruel rule of their leader, Toffee. But one day Marco escapes into Mewni where he meets a magical princess and Mewman like himself, who begins teaching him all about her world. Together they will learn about life, love, and the lights within each of them, as they change their world forever.

Chapter Synopsis: Star and Marco spend the day together. A fluffy Starco chapter for you all!

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Disclaimer: Star vs and all its characters are owned by Daron Nefcy and Disney. All rights go to them.

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The two set of footsteps echoed loudly off the dark castle hallways, as the two made their way to their destination, even the lack of light doing nothing to stop the two from their mission. It was very early morning, the sun not even beginning to rise over the sleepy town, but already the morning felt full to the two Mewnian guards.

Jak and Dex both walked side by side as they made their way to their princess' room. “So you think the princess is alright?” Jak asked, turning to his companion with concern.

��I'm sure she's fine,” Dex replied, nonchalantly. “This is just routine, that's all. Check on her and make sure she's safe. If you ask me, General Skullsy is just overreacting.”

“Well yeah,” Jak commented. “But then again, so was everyone tonight.”

“Right,” Dex said, rolling his eyes.

The two finally made it to the princess' door but were surprised to find it partially cracked open and the two felt panic rise up in them at once. Without even bothering to knock they threw the door open, concern for their princess bigger than their training. “Princess?!” Dex called, as he opened the door all the way to reveal Star and her friends, who turned to look at them, all except Marco who was asleep on the girl's couch.

The two stood frozen in their future ruler's doorway, staring in at the confused faces of the room's occupants. “P-Princess?” Jak stuttered in shock.

“Yes?” Star responded, sounding confused why the two guards had barged into her room.

“Are you okay?” Dex asked, looking around.

“Of course,” Star said. “Why wouldn't I be?”

“Well your door was open and...” Jak started, before coming to a stop looking around at the baffled faces that stared back at him. “What are you doing up this early anyways?”

Star looked around at her two friends, searching for the right answer, but neither seemed to know what to say. “Ummm...” Star began, biting her lip. “Well Marco had a nightmare so we brought him in here to make sure he was okay.”

Everyone immediately turned to the slumbering boy, his face peaceful as he curled up into the warmth of the blanket that was tucked securely around him, unaware of the world turning in the calm of his dreams. Star smiled softly at how cute Marco looked when he was asleep, before turning back to the guards. “Why, was there a problem?” she asked, making her voice sound curious and confused, cocking her head to the side.

The two seemed to recover, standing at attention, as their princess addressed them. “No of course not, Your Highness,” Dex said, trying to sound calm. “We were just asked to check on you to make sure that you were alright.”

“Not that we thought you wouldn't be,” Jak quickly added, hoping to keep the princess from panicking.

“There was kinda some commotion in town,” Dex continued. “Everyone's been a little on edge.”

“Commotion?” Janna asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, the people in town were claiming all kind of crazy things,” Dex said, rolling his eyes. “Flying statues, giant spiders, talking golf balls...”

“Wow, sounds like the whole town went nuts overnight,” Jackie said, looking to her friends.

“That's what I said!” Jak suddenly shouted.

“Well no problems here,” Star pitched in, her voice light and cheery. “But if we see any giant spiders or screaming hammers we'll let you know.”

“We never said anything about the screaming hammer,” Dex pointed out, sounding suspicious.

Jackie and Janna were up and out of there seats in seconds, pushing the two guards out of the room. “Uh, thanks for checking on the princess but we've got it from here,” Jackie nervously said.

“Yeah, we got it handled boys,” Janna confidently replied.

“All right,” Dex began as the two girl's finished pushing them out. “But if you need anything, Your High-” But his voice was cut off as the door slammed shut in their faces, all three girls sighing with relief.

“That was close,” Janna pointed out, leaning against the doorframe.

“Sorry my bad,” Star sheepishly replied, rubbing the back of her neck.

Jackie walked over to the bed, sitting down next to her friend again. “That's okay Star. Lying was never one of your strong suits. Even back when you did hang out with Tom and Pony.” Jackie rolled her eyes as she mentioned the two.

Star huffed. “I can't believe I ever did,” she admitted, crossing her arms. “Those two are nothing but trouble.”

“Yeah but you were the one who did all the damage,” Janna pointed out.

Star's cheeks blushed, as she threw her hands up in anger. “Only because they made me!” she screamed, instantly putting a hand to her mouth, her eyes jumping to Marco, who rolled over before settling back into his dream. “Trust me if you were there you'd understand,” she continued much quieter.

“If I were there I think we all know I would have made it worse,” Janna stated matter-of-factly and both Star and Jackie nodded their heads.

“True,” Jackie said, leaning back a little on the bed. “Thank goodness you don't hang out with them. I think all of Mewni would suffer.”

“Well we'd definitely help liven the place up,” Janna said, gazing longingly into the distance, dreaming sweet thoughts of destruction.

Star sighed, laying down on her bed. “I'm just glad we managed to get that mess cleaned up,” she tiredly replied, before releasing a massive yawn.

“What do you mean 'we'?” Janna pointed out. “You and Marco did most of the work. Me and Jacks just did crowd control.”

Star smiled at the mention of the boy, looking over to his slumbering form. True to his word, Marco had, in fact, stayed at Star's side all night, helping however he could as she reversed all her spells. And Star was glad to have the company, finding the tasks tedious and tiring, her already tired body ready to collapse as she undid her unwanted work. But as the hours stretched on, Marco had grown sleepier and sleepier, and, though he never complained once, Star could tell he was struggling to stay awake.

Finally, they were finished, Marco having to lean against the girl just to keep from falling over as they made their way back to the castle. The boy kept rubbing his eyes tiredly, looking cute and adorable as he struggled to keep his promise to his newly christened bestie. Star kept a firm arm wrapped around him, practically carrying him back, as they snuck past the guards and panicked citizens that seemed to swarm the town, none aware that the danger was gone.

And now here they were back in Star's room, the boy asleep practically as soon as his head hit the comfy sofa cushions, worn out from the long night's events. “Yeah,” she breathed, her face softening.

“Want us to help you carry him to his room?” Jackie offered, both her and Janna pretty sure what the answer would be.

Star thought for a second before shaking her head. “No, that's okay. He's fine where he is.”

The two smiled at her reply, pleased their hunches were correct. “Suit yourself,” Jackie began, releasing a fake yawn to try and hide her smirk from Star, stretching her arms over her head. “Me and Jan are gonna head for bed.”

“Good idea,” Star tiredly acknowledged, nodding in agreement, her whole body feeling heavier as she realized how truly tired she was. Jackie stood and her and Janna went to exit the room, the creepy girl turning to Star for a moment.

“Yeah you better get some sleep,” Janna yawned. “Got another long day of 'princess duties' to fulfill.”

Star froze, her friend's words hitting her full force as she realized how true she was. But neither Jackie or Janna noticed as they left, the door closing shut behind them as they trudged for bed, arguing about who was closer to winning the bet. Star's thoughts began spinning around her tired head as her words from earlier that night came back to her. “My promise,” she whispered, looking over to the slumbering Marco, guilt suddenly seizing her stomach, twisting it into an uncomfortable knot.

She released a shaky sigh, leaning against her bed post, putting a hand to her aching head. “Oh no,” she breathed, shutting her eyes tight. “How am I ever gonna be able to spend all day with Marco?” She mentally beat herself up for being so careless, she should have known better than to make a promise she couldn't keep. At the time she had been trying so desperately to keep Marco happy but really she had only made things worse.

She couldn't tell Marco no, she just couldn't, not after what had happened. If it wasn't for him Star would still be in that's things clutches. Marco had saved her, had risked his life for her, and she couldn't bring herself to disappoint him. He meant so much to her.

Star blushed at the last thought, but ignored her burning cheeks, trying to think of a way to get out of her appointed responsibilities and be able to spend time with her Marco. Erh, her bestie. But her tired brain was drawing a blank and she released a long sigh, slowly sinking deeper into herself. “Ugh, what am I going to do?” she asked her ceiling, hoping for some kind of answer from above. But none came and she stood up walking hesitantly over to Marco.

She hovered over him, looking down at his cute little face, smiling softly in his ignorant bliss. Instinctively she reached down and pulled the covers up a little more, tucking them around his snoozing form. She watched him for a moment, memorizing every feature of his sleeping face, unable to believe that this helpless little boy had been the brave, heroic one from before. She recalled the look of determination he had had as he valiantly faced the monster's cave, unafraid of the dangers that lurked inside.

He had been so brave before and she felt a deep gratitude toward him for all he had done. Even after she had blown him off so harshly. Star bent down so she was more level with the boy as she gently ran a hand through the back of Marco's soft brown hair, admiring his sleeping form. “Star,” he groggily whispered in his sleep and Star felt her heart flutter. She pulled her hand slowly away, studying him carefully, concerned she had disturbed the boy's sleep.

But the boy never opened his eyes, merely releasing a cute yawn before turning over once again, now facing Star his breath tickling her face. Star smiled lovingly at the boy, feeling the urge once again to give him a tiny peck on the cheek. But she resisted. She didn't want to startle him. He needed his rest.

So instead she stood, walking slowly over to her vanity, pulling her devil horned headband off as she set it carefully down. She looked into the mirror, determination and exhaustion shining in her eyes. She knew what she had to do. There was only one way she would be able to keep her promise to Marco and she had to go through with it, no matter what.

Star took a deep breath, gathering what little energy she had, as she reached for her princess crown.

…

“Marco?” The voice was soft and familiar and Marco reveled in how comforting it was, even still lost in his dreams he heard the voice calling out to him and felt a need to answer. He moved uncomfortably in his sleep trying to will himself awake, slowly peeking open an eye, before shutting it again as the harsh sunlit attacked his unguarded pupil. He heard a giggle and felt his heart swell with... what? He wasn't sure. His heart seemed to swell with that emotion quite a bit, usually because of...

“Star?” Marco groggily called, finally recognizing the girl's voice, the lull of sleep releasing its hold on him once again. He sat up, squinting in the blinding sunlit as he stared into the face of his bestie. Star smiled softly at him, reaching out a hand as she gently smoothed out Marco's messy hair. “Morning,” she said softly, her face just as pretty as ever.

“Morning,” Marco muttered, before releasing a massive yawn, ignoring how soft Star's fingers were as they gently pet his head. Marco looked around the room, realizing he was in Star's room not his own, and for a second he was curious how he had ended up there. Then the memory came flooding back to him and he turned to Star in concern. “Did I fall asleep?”

Star gave him a strange look. “Obviously,” she said, trying to hide the giggle that threatened to escape.

“Did... we get everything cleaned up?” Marco asked, his eyes wide with concern.

“Yep,” she said. “All taken care of.”

Marco sighed in relief. “Oh good for a second I thought I fell asleep before we finished,” he admitted.

“Nope,” Star said, finally removing her hand from his hair and he instantly missed the feeling of her touch. “You stayed up all night with me just like you promised.”

“That's a relief,” Marco breathed, before yawning again. “What time is it?”

“One.”

“In the afternoon!” Marco exclaimed.

“Yep!” Star exclaimed, grabbing the startled Marco by the arm and yanking him to his feet. “So you better go get dressed because we are going to spend the rest of the day together, just the two of us!”

Marco's eyes widened in wonder. “Really!!” he shouted in disbelief, his cute little grin making Star's heart thump uncontrollably in her chest.

“Yep!” she replied, shooting him a grin. “I promised we'd spend the day together and I keep true to my word.”

“Awesome!” Marco shouted, pumping an excited fist in the air. But his look of joy switched to one of confusion as he finally took notice of Star's current outfit. “Umm, are you sure you don't have 'princess duties' you need to do first?”

“No, why?”

“Because your wearing your princess outfit,” Marco explained, pointing to the fancy blue dress and crown Star always wore when she was attending to her required responsibilities.

Star followed Marco's gaze, looking down to the poofy dress with surprise, she had been so excited to wake Marco she had forgotten she was supposed to change. She flushed with embarrassment taking the golden crown delicately off her head. “Oh ummm, no,” she stuttered, feeling like she had just been caught doing something wrong. “I was just going to... change.”

“Okay,” Marco hesitantly said, rubbing a hand nervously up and down his arm, feeling the room suddenly grow thick with tension. “I'm just going to...” he went to step around her but Star, sensing his movement, moved too, blocking his path to the door again. The two chuckled nervously, their cheeks both turning equal shades of red.

“Oh umm sorry,” Star said, lowering her head to try and hide her blushing cheeks. “Let me just...” The two both moved simultaneously, blocking each others paths again, their cheeks somehow turning even more red as they stood face to face once again.

“Uhhhh....” Marco began, his heart thumping away in his chest at Star's close contact.

“Here, you go left,” Star said, pointing to her left. “And I'll go right.” She pointed to her other side, Marco nodding his head in understanding.

“O-okay,” he responded before obeying Star's advice, the two quickly swapping sides of the room, their hands for just a second brushing. The two turned staring at each other for a moment. “Well I better...” the blushing boy started, gesturing to the door.

“Y-yeah,” Star squeaked, her tight throat making speaking difficult. She cleared her throat before adding, “Yeah, sounds good. I'll meet you for breakfast in a few minutes.”

Marco nodded. “'Kay.”

With that the boy exited the room, the second the door shut Star releasing a sigh, putting a hand to her pounding heart. “That was close.”

Star walked over to her vanity, putting the crown back in its proper place. She stifled a yawn as her aching body plopped down in the chair. “You got through all the paperwork and everything, Star,” she reminded herself, with the room now empty Star's tired state becoming exposed. “You just have to get through a few hours with Marco and then you can rest.” Star let out a tired sigh as she placed her head against the cool surface of her vanity, letting her weary eyes rest for a moment. “Just a few hours,” she whispered again as she fought against the lull of sleep that called to her.

…

Marco took a few deep breaths, as the blood finally rushed out of his hot cheeks, his body pressed against Star's closed door. He closed his eyes, the image of Star's face permanently engraved into his subconscious. The hooded boy swallowed down the lump in his throat, as he opened his eyes once again, holding up his hand, his fingers still tingling from contact with his bestie. His hand shook slightly as that strange, yet fast becoming familiar, feeling flowed through him once again, making the boy smile.

He turned slightly toward Star's closed door, the smile never once leaving his lips, his eyes shimmering. Finally, he couldn't take his excitement anymore as he pumped a fist into the air, quietly shouting, “Yes! All day with Star.” It felt like a dream come true, his desire to spend time with his best friend finally going to be filled. He quickly pushed off from the door, his thoughts racing a mile a minute, as he raced to his room to get changed.

…

Star stared down at her full plate of food, the freshly-made cornbread streaming as it awaited the girl to begin eating it. She looked over to Marco, who sat right next to her, stuffing food as quickly down his throat as possible, overly eager to begin the day with his bestie. The blond held in a giggle at how adorable Marco looked, his cheeks stuffed to the brim with the fresh food making him resemble a chipmunk.

“Slow down, Marco,” Star teased, drawing the boy's attention to her, freezing mid-bite. “I wouldn't want you to choke before we can even start hanging out.” She gave him a playful smile before pouring him a glass of water, which he took eagerly.

He quickly gulped down the soothing liquid, clearing his airway enough for him to talk. “Sorry,” he said, once he was finished with the glass setting it softly in front of him. “I guess I just got carried away. I'm just super excited to be spending time with you.”

“Yeah me too,” Star said softly.

“I mean I just can't stop thinking about what all we're gonna do together. I mean there are so many possibilities...”

Star tried to continue listening to the boy, but she was having trouble focusing, as the lull of sleep called out to her once again, Marco's voice drowning out into the background. Her eyes began drooping as her head suddenly felt heavy, like she was having trouble holding it upright. Her eyes slowly began closing shut as the world around her began fading into the distance. All she wanted was to rest her eyes, just for one moment...

“Star?”

Star's eyes flew open as she whipped her head around to the startled Marco, who jumped at Star's sudden movement. “What, sorry?!” she quickly shouted, trying to stand. But her legs were still wobbly from lack of sleep and she found herself, unable to support her weight, falling forward, right into Marco.

The boy was startled as Star landed in his pushed out chair, throwing his whole chair off-balance with the added weight, sending both of them to the floor. For the second time in 24 hours Star found herself pressed against Marco's chest, her face flushing as she heard the fast thumping of his heart, her own heart cheek marks beating in rhythm to his. She sat up slowly, freezing as Marco's chocolate brown eyes focused on her flushing face. He looked startled, giving her that same wide-eyed wonder he had given her in the yarn creature's cave, Star seeing the gears turning in his head as he tried to make sense of the sudden change.

Star had a flash of that night in the cave, when suddenly compelled with the urge to get kiss him, she had moved closer to him, resisting the overwhelming urge as she stood over the boy, who looked so helpless as he stared up at her, gazing at her like she was the most interesting thing in all of Mewni. He was so open and exposed in that moment, all she had had to do was lean in closer.

But now was different, now she felt embarrassed for clumsily knocking the boy over, now she was the one exposed, her tired mind screaming frantic messages at her to move. “S-Sorry,” she whispered, trying to make herself stand, but she was frozen as her eyes remained locked with her besties, brown and blue caught in a hypnotic gaze.

But the moment was broken as the door to the room slammed open, Star and Marco turning to the person standing shocked in the doorway. Janna's mouths dropped open at the sight of her friend laying on top of the boy she was so obviously crushing on.

“Hey,” Marco said from his position on the floor, sounding as casual as ever, giving the tiniest of waves. Janna's gaze jumped to Star, giving her a look.

“Soo uhhh,” the dark hair girl started, raising a knowing eyebrow at Star. “What's going on?” Star suddenly panicked, realizing the thought process of her friend, rising off of the boy and onto her shaky feet once more.

She stood there awkwardly for a second, her fingers twitching nervously, as Marco stood too, unsure why they were acting so strange all of a sudden. Finally, Star tried to explain the situation to her friend, but Marco's close contact made her skitish and unsure, her voice stuttering uncontrollably. “Umm...I...we were...umm...I just...the thing is...we-we...it was an accident...” Star's muttering voice got quieter and quieter with every word until her voice drifted off and stopped all together, the room filling with an uncomfortable silence.

Marco, however, wasn't uncomfortable at all, still trying to figure out why Star was so embarrassed. “She tripped,” he explained.

Star groaned in embarrassment, covering her flushed face with her hands.

“Oh I'm sure,” Janna said with a smug smile, her eyes jumping to the princess for a second. Star lowered her hands from her face, her face still bright red. She kept her eyes on the floor, trying desperately not to look at anyone.

“It was an accident,” she whispered again, her hands fiddling with a stand of blond hair.

“If you say so,” Janna commented, giving Star a knowing wink.

Star finally recovered from her mortified state, shooting the creepy girl a glare. “It was!” she shouted, sounding defensive.

“Whatever you say,” Janna said, putting an arm around Star.

“Ugh, Janna!” Star groaned, pulling out of her grip, shooting her a suspicious glare. “What are you doing here anyways? Are you spying on us?”

“What no,” Janna defended. “I came here to eat. This is the dining room.”

Star looked around the room in shock, having forgotten what room they were in. “Oh. Right.”

“Hey Star!” Everyone turned to see Jackie in the doorway, a wide smile on her face. “Mmm something smells good,” the skater continued, sniffing the air. Then she froze suddenly noticing the awkward tension in the room, Star's face the picture of embarrassment. “Did I miss something?” she asked, confused.

“Nope, no,” Star said, grabbing Marco by the arm and dragging him out of the room. “Marco and I were just leaving.”

“We were?” Marco asked innocently, as he was pulled away.

Star ignored the boy, as she walked past the white-haired girl, making sure not to make eye contact, her face still slightly red. “Enjoy your meal,” she called after the two, before closing the door behind her.

Jackie turned to her companion. “What was that about?” she asked, bewildered.

…

“So what do we do now?” Marco asked the princess, as the two walked quietly through the castle halls.

“No! I refuse! If I am not treated with some respect then you can hire some other chump!” Star and Marco stopped as they heard yelling from the other side of the door beside them.

“What was that?” Marco asked his bestie.

“Uhhh-” Star began, but she was cut off before she could answer, as a large man wearing a chefs hat and apron stormed into the room, the door slamming open, a smaller man following after, looking distressed.

“Please chef,” the man began, making a begging motion to the burly man. “We need you. If you leave who will prepare tonight's dinner.”

“Don't know, don't care,” the man grunted, before removing his hat and throwing it to the ground, making Star and Marco jump. “I quit!”

With that the man turned on his heels and stomped out of the room, the smaller man following afterwards, still begging him to stay. Star and Marco turned to each other, their mouths open in shock at what they had just witnessed. “Was that the chef?” Marco asked in astonishment.

“I think so,” Star answered, equally astonished.

“This is bad, isn't it?” Marco asked his royal friend.

Star nodded, with a sigh. “Yep. Great now I have to find a replacement chef for tonight,” she mumbled, looking sad. “Guess we'll have to pick this up a different day.”

“Maybe not,” Marco suggested, his voice sounding deep in thought. Star turned to the hooded boy, giving him a confused look.

“What do you mean?”

…

The head waiter sighed as he trudged his way back to the kitchen, unsuccessful in convincing the hard-headed chef to return to his duties. He paused just outside the door, muttering to himself, “What am I supposed to do now?”

“Hand me that bowl, would you Star?” The waiter froze, unsure how he was hearing the voice of a young boy coming from the other side of the kitchen door.

His confusion was worsened as he heard a familiar, girlish voice echo through the thick wood frame, as well. “Sure. Hey, Marco, have you seen the whisk?”

“I don't think we need one for this recipe?”

“Ohhh, right.”

The waiter's eyebrows pinched together in confusion, as he pressed his ear against the door, trying to hear more.

“Hey Star should we go ahead and light the oven?”

“Yeah! Now where does the chef keep the matches?”

With that, the waiter threw the door open, his mouth dropping open at the sight of Princess Star and a boy who he had seen hanging around her recently standing in the middle of the large kitchen space. The two looked up from their work, the boy wearing a chef's hat and in the process of cutting up slices of tomatoes, the girl, wearing an apron with her long, blond hair pulled back into a ponytail, held a lit match over the stove. “What is going on here?!” the head waiter shouted, his voice releasing an unmanly squeak.

“We're making dinner,” Marco explained innocently.

“What?!”

“Relax, Alfred,” Star reassured, turning back to the stove, removing another match from the box, the first one having snuffed out during the blond's hesitation. “We overheard the chef quitting so we decided to cook dinner ourselves.”

“That's not my name,” the man muttered, before adding in a much louder voice. “But this simply isn't proper, uh, Your Highness.” He dropped into a late bow, averting his eyes from the young royal. “Please allow some of the other servants to-”

“Nonsense,” Star said, waving the man's comment away, not noticing the stove-top burst into flames as the match made contact with the hissing gas. “Me and Marco wanted to hang out anyways so this seemed like something fun we could do.”

As the girl spoke, Marco, noticing the fire, pulled out the fire extinguisher and snuffed out the fire without Star's knowledge.

“But-” the head waiter began again, but Star was already pushing him out the door. “Relax we got this. You go and try to find someone else to fill the old chef's job.”

“O-Of course, my Princess,” the man stuttered trying to keep a respectful tone as he addressed his future leader, but there was obvious skepticism in his voice as he added, “But have you ever cooked before?”

Star let out a small laugh, waving another casual hand in the air. “Oh come on, it doesn't look that hard. Right, Marco?”

She turned to the hooded boy for conformation and he nodded, as he poured a bag of corn chips into a bowl. “Yeah. Besides I read the entire chapter on cooking in Mr. Candle's book and we have this really cool recipe book here.”

“See,” she said, turning back to the skeptic man. “We got this.”

The waiter didn't seem convinced. But as he opened his mouth to object, Star slammed the door in his face, turning back to her bestie, shooting him a smile. “So what do I do first?” she asked, leaning against the countertop.

“Why don't you get to work on the cheese sauce?” he suggested and Star gave him a little nod.

“Sure.” She obeyed, pulling out all the ingredients in the book's list, as Marco pulled out the cheese grater, handing it to the girl.

The two were silent for a moment, as they each worked on their own tasks, every few seconds either Star or Marco giving their companion a quick glance and smile before returning to work once again. “This was a good idea, Marco,” Star finally said, as she sliced up the cheese.

“You think so,” he asked, sounding almost giddy at the girl's praise.

“Yep. What did you call this dish again?”

“Umm,” Marco squinted as he read the name of the Earth dish off the book. “Nachos.”

“Hmm.”

The two went silent for a moment again.

“Star?”

“Yeah.” Star stopped, hearing the change in his voice, as she looked over to the boy who gave her a grateful smile.

“Thanks for spending time with me.”

Star returned the smile. “No problem, Marco.”

The two turned to their work once again, casting glances at each other out of the corner of their eyes, their cheeks turning bright pink.

…

Marco poured the thick cheese sauce all over the tasty corn chips, the two blending together perfectly, creating a delectable smell that made both teens stomachs growl. “Well that's the last batch,” the boy said joyfully to his companion. But Star didn't reply, instead sniffing the air greedily, the longing look on her face making Marco smile in admiration of how pretty she was.

“Mmmmm,” she said, picking up one of the nacho chips from the top of the batch and putting it into her mouth. Star's whole face lit up as she devoured the delicious treat greedily, Marco doing the same. “Wow,” Star breathed, putting a hand to her face. “That is sooo good.”

Marco licked his lips, free of the cheese sauce, his mouth alive with a tasty sensation. “Yeah, that's pretty good.”

“Pretty good,” Star said, astonished. “No these were amazing! Awesome even!” Marco blushed at Star's compliment, the girl trying to ignore how her heart fluttered as he did. “You're a great cook, Marco.”

“Well we both made them,” he pointed out, averting his eyes as he fiddled with the tablecloth in embarrassment. But Star grabbed his hands, drawing his attention to her once again.

“No,” she said softly, her blue eyes shining as they focused on his face. “You made them. I just helped where I could.”

Marco gave Star the cutest grin of appreciation, pulling her unsuspectingly into a hug. Star hesitantly folded her arms around the boy's small frame, enveloping herself in his warmth, the edges of exhaustion tugging at the back of her mind at the comforting feel of Marco against her. “Thank you so much, Star. I had the best time with you.”

“Your welcome, Marco,” Star said, trying to keep the tiredness out of her voice.

The two finally pulled away, Marco suddenly gasping, as he looked up at the clock. “Oh no. It's almost dinner time.”

Star followed his gaze, seeing that it was in fact almost time for everyone to come eat, the nacho making process taking a bit longer than expected, considering they were having to cook for an entire castle full of people. Marco began to panic, his breathing becoming erratic as he tried to struggled to keep his cool. “What if they don't like them?” he asked, his voice squeaking slightly. “What if nobody wants to eat any or they get mad or...”

Star put a comforting hand on his shoulder, stopping the boy's out-of-control thoughts. “Come on Marco. What do you have to be afraid of? Last night you took on a giant yarn monster all by yourself.”

“Yeah but that was different,” Marco said, still trying to calm down. “That was to save you.” Star's eyes went wide, her heart cheek marks glowing bright red and throbbing, but Marco was too unsettled to notice.

“Why don't you take them out there? Tell them it was yours,” the boy continued, looking like he was on the verge of hiding under the table.

Star shook her head softly at Marco's nervousness, a small smile on her face as her cheek marks went back to their normal state. “Hey,” she put a hand softly on Marco's cheek, turning his face so she could look deep into his eyes. “You got this,” she said, her voice sounding far more confident then Marco felt. “I believe in you.”

Marco's nervous face finally relaxed, giving her one of his signature smiles that Star craved. The blond tried to hold in her coo that was threatening to spill from her lips over how adorable he looked. So instead, afraid her resolve would break, she pulled the boy to his feet, giving him a gentle push toward the door. “You go get the others. I'll stay here and watch the food.”

Marco turned to her for a second, his eyes full of fear, until Star gave him another comforting smile, making a little shooing motion with her hands. The boy took a deep breath, leaving the kitchen, the door closing shut behind him. Star chuckled slightly at Marco's cuteness, before releasing another yawn. She lay her head on the counter-top, allowing her eyes to close for a moment, the pressure to stay awake fading alone in the room. Her breathing became slower and slower as the lull of sleep caught up with her, making keeping her eyes open impossible. “I'll just rest my eyes for one little minute...”

…

Star opened her eyes, letting out a small yawn, her eyes trying to focus in the low light. Star sat up fast, unsure why everything was so dark when she had only closed her eyes for a moment. She looked around, realizing she was in her own room, half-buried under her think, warm sheets. Star was confused to say the least, racking her brain for any memory of how she had ended up in her bed. She frowned, her mind still trying to figure out this strange situation as she lay back down. That was when she noticed the slumbering form laying right next to her.

Marco was spread out on top of the sheets, his face peaceful as he slept, his face just a few inches from her own and she felt her heart rate spike as Marco's warm breath tickled her face. If her cheeks could blush anymore in that moment she would probably die from blood loss. Star was in shock at the realization that her crus... bestie was laying next to her in her bed and she had no idea how it had even happened, her mind coming to a screeching halt, unable to process anything but how precious Marco looked.

Star shook her head free from the pestering thoughts as she reached a hand out, gently shaking the boy. “Marco?” she whispered, desperate to get answers but still feeling bad for waking him from what seemed to be a pleasant dream.

Marco groaned, but stayed asleep, his face scrunching up in the cutest way. She shook him again, calling his name, this time a little louder. Finally, Marco's eyes slowly opened, his tired voice groggily calling to the person interrupting his sleep. “I don't want to get up yet Bu... Star?”

The boy went from half-asleep to fully awake in a second, upon recognizing the blond girl in front of him. He shot up from the bed, almost mimicking Star a moment ago, looking around the room with bleary eyes and a confused mind. Star sat up once again, as well, keeping a close eye on the boy. “Marco what are we doing in my room?” she asked. “I-In bed,” she hesitantly added, her voice having trouble choking out the last word, her heart cheek marks throbbing once.

The hooded Mewman cocked his head to the side, his face intensely concentrated as he tried to recall how they had gone from the kitchen to Star's room, his mind still drawing a blank. Finally, realization seemed to hit. “Ohhhh,” Marco said, nodding his head. “Right. Well I went to find the others and when I got back you were asleep, so Jackie and Janna helped me bring you here.”

“Wait,” Star interrupted, a sudden concern in the boy's story. “Jackie and Janna helped you. Why didn't you just wake me?”

“I was going to, but then everyone told me that you got all your work done this morning, which I guess explains you wearing your princess dress...” Star averted her eyes from Marco, feeling guilty. “So I figured that meant you hadn't gotten any sleep so I brought you here so you could rest. Then Janna said I should keep an eye on you, so I stayed here, but I got tired and-”

“Why would you do that?!” Star suddenly exclaimed, her eyes welling with sudden tears, Marco jumping at Star's sporadic mood shift.

“W-What?” the boy whispered.

“You weren't supposed to let me sleep. We were supposed to spend the whole day together!”

“But you were tired.”

“Yeah, but now I'm a liar. I-I didn't keep my promise.” Star's voice drifted off as she stared down at her covers, guiltily, pulling her legs up to her chest. Her stomach churned with discomfort, her head screaming insults at herself. She was supposed to spend the day with Marco, the boy who had risked his life for her and she couldn't even stay awake a few hours to please him. She was pathetic.

Finally, she risked a glance upwards, her heart twisting up into an even tighter knot as she saw the look of sadness on the boy's face. “I'm sorry, Marco,” she muttered dejectedly. “I'm not mad. I just...” she sighed. “I wanted to make you happy. And I failed.” Star looked down once again, trying to hide the tears that were still threatening to spill.

The room was silent for a moment, save for Star's sniffling, neither teen daring to look each other in the eyes. After what felt like an eternity, Marco looked up at the girl, seeing the look of sadness on her face and feeling the need to cheer her up. He took a moment to think, trying to come up with something to say to cheer the girl up. He took a deep breath. “You didn't fail,” he said, the girl's eyes darting up, blue meeting brown once again. “You did make me happy.”

“How?” Star whispered.

“Well I got to try cooking, something I never would've gotten to do before I met you and then I got to share it with everyone, something I never would have been brave enough to try if you hadn't encouraged me to. And... I got to spend time with you.”

Marco's face turned slightly red, but it was hard for Star to tell in the darkness of the room. “So I had a good day, because I got to spend it with you.”

Star's face softened, a small smile on her lips. “Even if it wasn't all of it?” she asked, her voice shaking with guilt.

Marco shook his head. “No.” He shot her a smile. “All day or just a few minutes, it doesn't matter I just... really like seeing you.”

Star gave him a blank look, until finally she threw her arms around him in a hug. Marco froze up only for a second, before returning the hug, the two smiling to themselves as they enjoyed being around their favorite person in the whole world.

“We will watch the sunset tomorrow though, right?” Marco asked the girl.

“Of course, Marco.”

The two finally broke the hug, just staring into each others eyes. “So did they like the nachos?” Star finally asked, not looking away from the boy for even a second.

“Yep.” Marco replied. “They said they want me to cook for them more often. Oh! Speaking of which.” The boy suddenly turned, reaching down to the floor and picking up a bowl of the now cold nachos. “They're kinda cold, but you can have some if you want them.”

Star giggled. “How can I resist some of Marco's Super Awesome Nachos,” she said. Marco gave her a confused look. “That's what I'm going to call them.”

“What about Marco and Star's Super Awesome Nachos?” he supplied, giving her another smile.

“Deal,” the girl said, returning the smile. She took a bite of them, taking on a thoughtful expression. “Hmmm, they do taste better hot. Oh, I got it,” she exclaimed, picking up her wand from the nightstand, tapping it against the bowl. It sparkled with magic for a second, before steaming with heat, the smell of freshly cooked nachos filling the room. The two sniffed the air eagerly, before digging into the bowl, settling back on the bed as the two just enjoyed each others company, once again.

#star vs #star vs au #My Writing #Light of the Sun and Stars #Starco

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jestdrabbles · 7 years ago

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Every Hurdle, Every Chasm - Chapter 03

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia Warnings: none Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Iida Tenya, Uraraka Ochako, Asui Tsuyu, Todoroki Shouto Relationships: Dekusquad friendship | Pining Tododeku & Tsuchako Other info: Dekusquad Roadtrip AU ; Fun times ahead but also some emotional times so I should definitely warn about that!; MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS.

Words: ~8,600 | Chapter: 03/14 | Language: English

Somehow this one turned out longer even though I struggled a lot to actually write it. Hopefully next chapter doesn’t take too long to put out! Also I made up the city they stop at, so that’s not supposed to be a real place or anything

Day 03 - Don’t Expect Too Much [December 26]

The bathroom door is closed when Izuku rises from the dead of sleep, ready to wash his face and brush his teeth to rid himself of the nightly grime. Windows tell him sunrise is still on its way, once again losing against Tenya’s near-perfect record. His eyelids drop once, twice, then will him back into his drowsiness, but he wakes in full when the door creaks open. Messy brown hair nearly matches his own, and her eyes remain shut despite her attempted energy.

“Mornin’ Deku,” Ochako bumps her knuckles to his arm, “bathroom’s all yours.”

“Thanks,” he passes through, but leans his head out the doorway as she walks toward her parents’ room. “Is Tsuyu awake?”

“Mmhm,” she waves back without turning around. Izuku nods to himself and shuts the door to tend to the morning’s grooming. He half-expected Shouto to need more nudging out of bed, but the sleeping bag was already rolled and set against the sofa by the time he’d awakened; Shouto himself had been sitting against the wall with his phone plugged in, bag seemingly packed at his side. Now that he thinks about it, he has no way of knowing if he actually slept at all.

In any case, he regrets not getting to bed sooner himself with how sluggish he feels. That’s what he gets for pushing his limitations, so he opens the bathroom for whomever may need it next and nearly collides with them mid-yawn.

“Still sleepy?” Shouto asks with his hand at Izuku’s shoulder to keep them from running into each other.

“I’m amazed you aren’t.”

He grins and pats his shoulder as he passes him, content without saying much else when he walks further down toward Ochako’s room. Izuku watches as the door opens to let him inside, then he returns to the living room to find Tenya sitting beside the stack of folded blankets. Izuku returns his toiletry bag to his luggage and zips it shut.

“Do you have everything packed?”

Izuku sets aside the blankets and takes the newly made spot beside Tenya so he can use his arm as a place to rest his head, and he nods. The other smiles down at him and decides to let him rest his eyes a little longer until they have to load everything in the car.

The engine takes a few turns to finally start up, and the whirring lulls the resident sleepyheads to catch up on those last few hours before having to truly face the oncoming day. Ochako takes the front seat with Tenya, and they set out beneath dawn’s deceptively warm lights peeking over the landscape as they depart from the city and merge onto the highway. Ochako watches her hometown vanish behind her in the side mirror, and she smiles at the memory of her parents’ half-awake farewell.

She promises next time, they’ll have more time together.

They drive with the music low, voices no higher than careful exchanges during class, and soon enough they hear movement in the backseat between the blanket draped across both Tsuyu and Izuku. She wakes with her squint at the sunlight and yawns into her long fingers.

“Mornin’,” Ochako turns in her seat, “again.”

“Morning for real,” she sits up straighter to stretch her back and lets out a content sigh. “It’s so warm in here.”

“Yeah, we figured making it nice and toasty would help everyone rest easier.”

“You figured right,” she gives them a thumbs up, even if Ochako is the only one who can really see it. “Do we want to stop somewhere for breakfast?”

“I was thinking we could wait until everyone wakes up,” Tenya begins, glancing toward the back through the mirror, and he catches himself in a grin when he sees one teal eye open.

“I’m awake.”

“Of course you are,” Ochako deadpans and looks to Izuku, head leaning against his seatbelt strap as he snoozes. “Did you guys stay up late or something?”

“I didn’t hear them after going to bed myself,” Tenya shrugs, “and I didn’t feel Midoriya move all that much. As for Todoroki, he’s fairly quiet to begin with.” Once realizing that they are not, in fact, stopping for breakfast just yet, Shouto closes his eye and leans back in his seat without further comment.

The three make small talk concerning the weather predictions, the unlikelihood of rain with all the snow, and Tsuyu almost slumps in her seat. Tenya attempts to boost her spirits through the various sights they’ll be able to enjoy together, and Ochako chimes in to add that a hot spring will be even better in this kind of weather. They can all agree on that one.

Within the hour, Izuku blinks awake and stretches his neck until it cracks, then his shoulders. His phone reads a bit past 7AM before he tries to lean toward the center seat to see the digital clock on the dashboard; Tsuyu tells him good morning, and he illuminates almost instantly. Leave it to the fluffiest of the bunch to be bright eyed and bushy tailed at his real start of the day.

Tenya grins and keeps his eye out for an exit while Ochako searches for nearby cafes.

Tsuyu nudges Shouto awake once Tenya masterfully parallel parks on a side street, and they pull their shoes back on quick. Izuku wins that race since his sneakers are always tied loose anyway, and he joins Ochako on the sidewalk to contribute to the meter. Tenya finishes up by tossing the blanket over their luggage to discourage any curious eyes from breaking in, and they follow their rosy-cheeked companion as she directs them toward the restaurant.

“Western-style?” Tsuyu comments once they reach the building, noting the menu on display outside the window.

“I’m going to eat so many pancakes,” Izuku taps his finger on the all-you-can-eat price, but Ochako drags his finger to the All-Star American combo, and he finds himself immensely conflicted. Tenya holds the door open for them, the small ring of a bell notifying the hostess to welcome them and take them to a booth. Shouto and Tenya occupy one side while the three shorter squeeze into the other, Ochako having claimed the center.

The waitress arrives to take their drink orders after distributing water for the table, and Ochako peels the paper of her straw just enough to blow the wrapper out at Izuku’s cheek. She snickers, and he fires his back at her in vengeance, the paper striking at her nose. Thankfully the other three keep out of the spat, but Shouto’s worked his into an intertwined shape until he pushes the bottom upward and forms a small paper rose.

“That’s so neat!” Izuku stares at it pinched between his finger and thumb, and Shouto offers it to him since he seems interested enough. “I didn’t know you did origami, Todoroki.”

“Don’t be too impressed,” he leans back and shrugs. “I only know how to make things like this from strips of paper, but I can’t make anything from squares.”

“Oh, you mean like lucky stars?” Ochako takes the paper rose from Izuku to twirl it in her fingers. He nods, and her eyes sparkle. The implications make her cheeks flush, and she kicks her boots under the table. Who would have thought he could be a romantic? “Can you teach me some time?” Another nod, and she returns the rose to Izuku without calling as much attention to it as she’d like. Lucky, indeed.

The waitress comes back with their preferred drinks, and they each take their turns ordering their food after skipping Izuku, still weighing his options until he goes for the combo, and Tenya takes a sip from his juice once she’s left them again.

“So we have a long stretch until we reach Hokkaido. If we time it well, we won’t have to drive too much into tomorrow, but we have time to make a stop if there’s anything on the way you all want to do. I’d prefer we get back on the road by sundown at least,” Tenya thinks aloud, and Shouto stops himself from taking his coffee, setting it back down on the saucer. The three across mentally debate locations, and Tsuyu is the first to pull out her phone and check for anything interesting. Ochako glances over to share some input, and both of them grin wide and turn the phone to Tenya and Shouto without showing the curious set of green eyes across from them. They read the article header and immediately shift their eyes to a very confused Izuku, and they both nod in their own smiles.

“This is rude,” he rests his chin in his hand, and Ochako relents to share the screen with him. His expression lifts almost instantly, and he holds the phone in both his trembling hands as he scrolls through the review on a famous Hero Museum in Kashu, about an hour away from where they are now. “Am I the only one who wants to do this, or…?”

“I’m interested,” Shouto assures as Izuku passes Tsuyu’s phone back to her. He doesn’t add any further explanation, but the others seem to agree. They discuss possible attractions, debate over what heroes will have larger displays, and check out other sights in the area. The Ice and Snow museum piques their interest as they try to delicately hint toward Shouto, but he states only if they have time and nothing else to do.

His lukewarm reaction motivates Ochako to try finding something else, but the waitress brings their food, and soon the table is covered in plates of pancakes, waffles, eggs, sausage, and bread. Tsuyu practically hoards the jelly for herself as she spreads it between a biscuit, and Izuku draws a star from the syrup over his short stack. Ochako takes a couple pictures of the spread and puts her phone away to enjoy her large waffle, and Tenya slides his fried egg over toast while Shouto cuts into his omelette. Conversation dies as their hunger satisfies; the only words exchanged go between offers of sharing and tasting.

“Waiting for it to cool off?” Tsuyu points to Shouto’s coffee after noticing how he hasn’t touched it since putting it down, and he finishes chewing when he shakes his head.

“If we’re stopping somewhere, then I need to sleep a little more so I can drive later.”

“This wouldn’t be as much of a problem if you went to bed earlier,” Tenya advises, and Shouto hums his mmhm as he continues eating. He glances at the coffee, taps it with the side of his finger, and points across to offer it to anyone if they want it. Ochako sways her ankle against Izuku’s lower leg gently, and he takes the hint to accept.

When Shouto smiles, Izuku shields his own in a gulp of semi-sweetness.

They leave the restaurant and pile back into the car after finishing up their breakfast.

Somehow, Tsuyu manages to convince the backseat that Shouto should nap sprawled across them so she can style his hair. Izuku ends up with his legs bent like a cage nearly trapping him in his seat, and a pillow separates his head from Tsuyu’s lap. Shouto’s fingers lace over his abdomen, and he closes his eyes to try and sleep while long fingers comb through his outgrown hair. Their restless friend relaxes enough to drift off, and Izuku does his best not to accidentally knock his knee or thigh when he leans.

“Hey Uraraka?” she turns around in the front seat, “Can you grab my bag? I can’t really reach it like this.”

“Sure thing!” she stretches her arm toward his feet and taps the yellow backpack with her quirk, lifting it to pat over in his direction. Once he’s taken hold, she releases it, and the weight nearly drops on Shouto’s knees before he catches it fully. His hand rummages inside to search for a small case, and he pulls out his Vita to continue the next level of his game.

“That reminds me... I should check up on my camp,” Ochako occupies herself with the app on her phone, “I still need to work on my aesthetic. Have you added anything new to yours, Tsuyu?”

“I’m still hoping to find the lilypad table, so I’m working on crafting plants mostly,” she recounts as she continues brushing through his hair, careful not to bump his scar when she sweeps his bangs to the side. “I’m still trying to level up and unlock more frog villagers to host.”

“What are you two talking about?” Tenya inquires, and Ochako nearly holds her phone out to show him until she realizes that he will absolutely not take his eyes off the road to study the display for details. They explain the mechanics of Animal Crossing, and Ochako uses the opportunity to brag about Tsuyu’s talents in keeping up with her town and decorating it. While she never had an opportunity to own a game console herself, Tsuyu recommended the app so they could play together.

They’d tried to convince everyone else to join in, but it’s too easy to fall out of maintenance when schedules are so hectic for heroes.

Tenya laments briefly the busyness of the program, but he commends the two for managing to balance time enough to enjoy a leisurely activity together. Tsuyu cuts herself short in a ribbit, and Izuku notices the way her cheeks flush while she finishes up a braid with his silvery strands. The rest of the ride is spent in pleasant quiet, mindful of their one sleeping passenger and also enthralled by their respective hobbying.

Ochako breaks the silence with her giddiness upon coming across Mikacchi, and she mutters her extensive plans of friendship courting enough for Izuku to tease her about it.

Shouto wakes as the car pulls into park, and his wrist rubs at his eyes before noticing how the hair on his right side doesn’t fall back on his cheek. His fingers find the tied hairs pulled back, and he sits up and frees both Tsuyu and Izuku from his weight. He checks the rest of his hair for any styling, but to no avail.

Astonished, he turns to her. “I didn’t even feel it.”

“Corpse, then,” she remarks as she opens the door, and he falls for its ambiguity until shrugging it off on his way out. Ochako is the first to praise her handiwork and asks if he’ll take a picture with them, and he complies without changing his drowsy expression. She calls everyone else to group in so she can take a shot with the museum behind them, and she passes her phone to Tenya for his much longer arm so they would all fit.

Despite its popularity, the lines pass efficiently through quick bag checks and cooperating card readers. Izuku nearly bounces in his clunky red sneakers the closer they get, and once he has the museum map in his hands, he pulls it open and scans the exhibits with his own eagerness interrupting his muttering, and it takes both Tenya and Ochako to steer him onward and away from the entry so others can pass. He works out a route with his finger dragging across the map and connecting the ins-and-outs of the varying rooms, everyone leaving it to him and his capable hands.

Shouto asks to borrow the map a moment, and Izuku happily passes it with a peek as he follows his eyes scanning the map. No real indication what he’s reading and thinking, but he folds it and slips it back into Izuku’s hands as he returns his own to his pockets.

“No way! Is that Crimson Riot? I have to send this to Kirishima,” Ochako charges forward and takes as many pictures as she can to capture the bits of old merchandise and news articles, and she sends the plethora of photographs to his biggest fan despite the limited signal inside the building. Rather than fight with it, she manages to connect to the guest wifi and receives a string of gushing texts once they all go through at once.

They follow along per Izuku’s suggestion, stopping at familiar heroes to tease their professional personas versus meeting them in person, but a tribute to Ragdoll and her team leaves them in bittersweet memory. Shouto steers their attention to Gang Orca, only to reference how much of an idiot he’d been during the license exam their first year, and Izuku snorts with the softened mood. They exchange a light banter with Shouto’s hand blocking Izuku’s gentle fist, and Tenya turns toward one of the more sizable exhibits showcasing past members in his family tree.

Before he gets carried away, he checks to make sure how his brother’s reposition is handled and breathes a sigh of relief at the absence of any mention of the word victim. Izuku is the first to join his side, admiring the replica displays of each costume.

“They’re probably going to add you when you graduate, Tenya,” Tsuyu reaches the end of the family tree and points to the available space. The rest immediately face him with a spark in their eyes, and he coughs into his closed hand

“I’d much rather earn it then obtain the honor by default on account of my family name,” he flattens his hand as it comes down from his mouth. Although they respect his ideal, they can’t help but poke at him with additional praise that he’ll earn it in no time at the rate he’s going. Ochako especially points toward a mention of him as a nameless younger brother to the former Ingenium, and he appreciates remaining anonymous until making a true debut.

As he discusses some context for a few articles pertaining to his grandparents, other guests stop to listen and brighten when they realize who he is. Tenya entertains a few questions, smile beaming with pride as he shares what he can. Izuku notes the difference between bragging and praising another’s accomplishments, and he listens intently for whatever new details he can jot down in his notes. Once he’s had his fill, he dismisses himself and thanks those who have listened earnestly for their interest and support.

Tsuyu and Ochako smile to themselves as they overhear the chatter and compliments directed toward him.

The following displays bleed into one another from veteran heroes to rising stars, and Izuku mentions that there’s a sense of build up to some larger names like Best Jeanist and Ryukyu, garnering excitement from both the girls. When they reach her exhibit, they join hands and read through the item descriptions and clippings together and recount a few memories from their internship without mentioning the catastrophic morning mission.

Izuku doesn’t linger around to listen. If anything, he seems preoccupied with what’s to come.

The girls take a selfie with the image of Ryukyu behind them and send it to Nejire for old time’s sake, to let her know they’re thinking of her, then continue onward through the supposed countdown of heroes. Soon enough, they reach the hero both Izuku and Shouto have been dreading without sharing a single word about it to one another, and the former continues in his steps as if to completely pass the display until he notices Shouto stiff in his steps.

Hellfire burns in the forefront of his mind when the flames flicker in the roped-off chalice.

He squints at the small placate discussing its significance, and he grimaces at the thought of Endeavor having granted them some sort of mock eternal flame.

The display is just as gaudy as Shouto imagined it would be. Newspaper clippings, photographs, and awards encased and proudly broadcasted to showcase someone who dedicated his entire life to second place. A victory only due to the first stepping down. It figures the only remnant of his personal life exists in the form of his old U.A. gym uniform, if only to discuss his alma mater, athletic, and academic accomplishments.

No mention of a wife or four children.

Or so he’d like to pretend, but the visitors recognize him immediately, and he shuts them down coldly as they ask for additional trivia. It’s the total opposite of Tenya’s attitude toward his own family’s dedication; he almost wants to press further, but Izuku halts his arm and asks him to leave it be. Shouto understands what it means to ignore fans, and he knows the consequences. This is no way to rise to the top or win favor, but neither is pretending that a renowned hero deserves a display and following like this.

The space closes in, fire threatening to burn its remaining oxygen, and he holds his breath.

“I’m sorry if I upset him,” a woman approaches the other four, Shouto having moved on to the next display on his own. Ochako shakes her head and waves her arms hoping to soften any offense, but the woman continues, “I just never thought I’d have a chance to meet someone connected to Endeavor, so I may have come off pushier than I’d meant.”

“Don’t worry,” Tenya reassures, “he comes across as aloof, but I don’t believe it directly reflects how he feels to the other person. And being the son of such an established hero, I’m sure he has to deal with it often. Sometimes it’s easier to deny everyone then end up stuck in an unyielding questionnaire.”

“That,” she cups her cheek as she mulls over what he’s said, “makes perfect sense. I should have been more considerate. I suppose I’ll try sending another letter… Anyway, sorry to take your time!” The woman dismisses herself, leaving the others to ponder what she could have wanted with the Number One hero that would make her try to reach his son instead.

They shake their heads and regroup with Shouto, unfazed by what’s happened, and he calls Izuku closer to show him an old trinket from the beginnings of heroism back in the United States. With fingertips hovering in front of the glass, it nearly fogs from his breath so close as he marvels at the history. These items seem to be on loan from a museum abroad, and he takes his time absorbing the notes and evolution of hero merchandise.

“Some of these are so cheesy,” Ochako reads a few translations from old buttons, and Izuku grins.

“That’s part of the charm, I think.”

“I can’t wait to see what yours are like,” she bumps him with her elbow, and he pulls back from the glass with a degree of confidence rising from his blush. If anyone can derive comfort from seeing his name or motto, then he knows he’ll have done his job.

They follow the path of former heroic icons, ones who could have been considered number one of their respective eras if the title were around at the time. The further they walk, the heavier his soles; Izuku can sense the pressure of expectations rising in his bones, and it nearly swallows him whole. Rescuing a few fellow classmates, heroes, and children is one thing, but it dawns on him that his goals have transformed his body into a future monument. He’ll become a wax statue, a glass case of history, a video on loop, a rusty, metal button, and a compost of remember-whens.

The red, white, blue, and gold cast upon them and leave him in his shadow.

“Oh wow, it’s lifesize!”

“Just what you’d expect from All Might’s exhibit,” Tsuyu ribbits as they approach.

“Midoriya could most likely recite every fact here,” Tenya boasts on his friend’s behalf, and Izuku snaps from his daze and chuckles. Shouto watches from the corner of his eye but keeps his observations to himself and instead basks in the comforting presence of their former Symbol of Peace.

“Try me,” he encourages Tenya and turns himself away from the display so he won’t read any of the tidbits. Entertaining the challenge, the others decide on which obscure fact to quiz him on.

“Two years following his debut, All Might left his agency abruptly and rushed himself to Imaichi to--”

“To apprehend villains who had struck dangerously close to Cedar Avenue, which was peculiar given the smaller population and inactivity there, so the attack had been a deliberate threat to the historic site in order to call attention to an otherwise peaceful area. It’s said that All Might rushed so quickly he was able to travel there, defeat and arrest the ones responsible, and return to his agency before lunch.”

“Impressive,” Shouto finishes reading the card and turns to Izuku, now blushing.

“Really, I don’t understand the point,” Ochako hums.

“Some people just want to watch the world burn,” Tsuyu quotes, and she isn’t satisfied but lets the matter go.

“How much control do you suppose the heroes themselves have over what ends up in here?” Tenya brings his hand to his chin, and Izuku eyes the rest of All Might’s portion to take note of what may stand out as a personal choice. Looking over the timeline’s order, he notices the lack of All for One’s mention in their previous battle before their reunion. Of course, there’s a muted news loop of his final battle’s coverage, but no real information on the villain at all.

“What is it, Midoriya?” Izuku breaks from his focus and turns to Shouto now at his left, and he apologizes for spacing out again but doesn’t quite answer the question. The other boy brings his attention to the display and recalls the night, but keeps his own thoughts to himself due to the company surrounding them.

“Hey, Deku, why don’t we send a picture to All Might?” Ochako joins him at his right and nudges him gently. His downcast illuminates almost instantly, and he tugs his phone from his pocket with a sincere nod. Rather than ask Tenya to take the picture again, she grabs the attention of a young couple and asks one of them to take a shot of all of them posing similarly to the giant statue of All Might with Izuku at the center.

“I could go for some activity after all that! Seeing all those heroes just made me want to get back out there,” Ochako adapts to a stance and swings her fist once they’ve regrouped in the nearby park after stopping for a quick snack. “Anyone wanna go for a jog? Or how about a spar?”

“That isn’t a bad idea,” Tenya agrees, then notices Tsuyu in her many layers, far too impractical for exercise. Before he can comment for her sake, she raises a hand.

“Moving around wouldn’t hurt,” she says, “besides, I can take this off if I need to.”

“Then how about we do some sparring? No using our quirks though!”

“Sounds good to me.”

“So, how are we gonna decide this?”

The five exchange looks until an idea sparks in Izuku’s brain and lifts his hand around his semi-empty soda bottle to showcase. They stare at it, then him, and he realizes all he’d exclaimed was This! and gave no further context.

“You know, like spin the bottle. But instead of kissing, we fight.”

“I love it!” claps Ochako. With no objections, they form a circle in the cold, dry dirt and each take their seats. They work out the ground rules, mostly to establish how long each sparring match should last, and finalize the window. “You go first since it was your idea, Deku!” He nods and spins it with far too much gusto, and they end up telling him to re-spin with less power behind it.

It lands between Tenya and Tsuyu, though closer to the former.

“Ooh! The two kickers!” Ochako cheers as they rise to their feet. She starts up a low chant of fight fight fight to get them in the spirit of competition, and they walk further toward an open patch of the park to give them plenty room to work with. Both take the time to stretch their arms, legs, joints, and back, then they assume the proper stance as they wait for their self-appointed announcer to give them the go. “And start!”

Izuku springs from the ground with a swift start and twists his kick into Tenya’s block, forcing him to shift quickly to avoid his counter. Confidence glints from his dark blue eyes when he swings his longer leg, and Izuku takes to defense as he shields himself behind his arms, studying Tenya’s movements and taking into account similar ways he could apply them to his own skills. Even without his quirk, he’s fast; Izuku relies on their height difference to break out of his range and ducks to try and knock him off his feet. Tenya stammers but anchors himself in heavy steps. Izuku retaliates with his palm digging into the cold dirt and swings his leg again, connecting successfully, but still only knocks him back without falling.

If that won’t work, an aerial strike might, he plans, but Tenya is already at his side with the side of his flattened hand knocking against Izuku’s shoulder blade to drop him forward. He braces his fall and whips himself around to face his opponent again, this time actively shutting off his analytical mind to rely on instinct. Just as he leaps from the earth again, Ochako shouts.

“Time!”

He falls the the dirt and grumbles, Tenya’s laughter filling his ears only until he extends his hand to offer him back to his feet.

“I’m still amazed how high you can jump even without your quirk,” he admires, “I would have liked to see where that went.”

“You and me both,” he tugs on their handshake, releases it, and bumps his fist. They exchange momentary flattery before returning to the circle, and Shouto takes Izuku’s dirtied hand in his own to inspect. Once he’s satisfied without worry of scratch or cut from the dirt, he releases it without having once looked Izuku in the face. Partly a blessing, since he could feel the heat building in his cheeks, more than before.

“Y-you’re turn,” he manages to say, and Shouto nods as he takes the bottle and spins it. His gaze fixates on the neck as it slows, passing Tsuyu, Tenya, then stopping almost perfectly on Ochako. She practically jumps to her feet with a loud, exuberant cheer.

“Hell yeah! Let’s go!” she sheds her jacket and readies herself to slam it on the ground, but she plops it over Tsuyu’s shoulders instead, adding complimentary pats. Her enthusiasm is intoxicating enough to upturn his lip, and he unties his scarf to pack it safely into his messenger bag left on the ground, letting his cardigan tumble into a puddle of itself on top. By the time they gain enough distance, she’s tied most of her hair back into a tight, messy bun, and she readies herself until no one says anything, and she turns forlorn toward the group.

“C’mon, someone announce us!”

Izuku immediately tries to think of what they could either have in common or stark contrast, but he overwhelms himself with the fact that he’s had a serious crush on both of them at some point. Tenya cuts in with his hand in the air as he shouts:

“Class A’s sun versus moon! Start!”

Shouto almost questions what he means, but he has no time when Ochako darts toward him with her body low to get a charging rush to his waist. While she knows it won’t necessarily work, she needs to keep close to him in order to have a chance at restraining him before time runs out. She may not be as analytically observant as Izuku, but she knows who is and isn’t a ranged fighter; Shouto does best when he’s working from a distance to propel ice and fire as necessary. So when he dodges her charge, she ducks out from under his arm where he swings his fist, and rises to wrap both hands around his arm and try to pull him down.

“Hey, no quirks!” she lets go of his heated arm as a precaution, and he touches it with his right.

“Sorry. I’ve been using it all day,” he quickens the cooling process so they don’t lose time, and she hits him with a penalty strike to his chest. She can tell he intentionally leaves himself open, opting to take the hit rather than block, and he uses the opportunity to reach for her shoulder and shove her away from him. Once balanced in her footing, she rises to the challenge and closes the space again, trying to keep on his left to restrain the arm again.

She’s strong enough, and she knows it, but something changes almost too instantly for her to register, and she shifts to the defensive to avoid his leg swinging around and against her armed barrier. The force pushes her back, soles clinging to the dirt, but her endurance keeps her standing. Ochako thrusts herself into his fist with one last charge, and they topple over into the ground with her weight pushing down on him to keep him secured below, but he jostles himself loose and sends her off to the side. Before either can recover, Tenya forms a T with his hands and shouts.

“Time!”

“Actually, a little over,” Tsuyu remarks. The two help one another off the ground, and Shouto inspects her less directly than he had Izuku. On their way back, she agrees to his offer of cooling the swelling on her arm where he’d struck, but she quickly feels her chilling sweat and pulls herself away to throw on her jacket again.

“So what was that about sun and moon?” Shouto asks as they catch their breaths and prepare for the next turn.

“I’ll admit, it was a dramatic stretch,” Tenya speaks with his fingers pressed to his chest and his other hand extended, “but I was referring to Uraraka’s sunny disposition and your… calmer one.”

“I’m a little insulted,” Ochako muses. “I kind of like being associated with the moon since it matches my face.”

“It does?”

“Yeah! Round and pretty, like me!”

“Plus your whole space motif.”

“Exactly!”

“I see now the error of my interpretations,” Tenya adjusts his glasses and lowers his head in a slight apologetic bow. “I’ll leave the announcements to you, Uraraka.”

Izuku turns to Shouto to watch him rub his hands together and hold his left arm, presumably warming himself up again after the match, and he attempts to offer his jacket when Tsuyu grabs the bottle in her turn to spin, watching with intense curiosity and ribbiting when it halts to a stop nearest Shouto.

“Again?!” Ochako exclaims.

“She can spin again if she w--”

“No,” Tsuyu interrupts Shouto’s proposal to stare into his eyes, “you’re my natural weakness if we’re talking about quirks, so if you’re up for going twice in a row, I’d like to spar with you.”

“I don’t mind, but let me even myself out first,” he learns from last time and cools down his left half before the match to neutralize his hot-and-cold levels.

“Also Tsuyu, since your quirk is mostly part of you, refrain from using your camouflage or tongue,” Tenya instructs, and she nods, working off most of her layers and piling them on Ochako’s offering arms. “Should we permit her long leaps?”

“Fine by me,” Shouto sheds himself of his cardigan once again and watches Tsuyu rub her arms in a momentary shiver. She notices the look in his eyes, sees how Recovery Girl’s teaching has influenced him, and she reassures that she’ll be fine once they start moving. He agrees that they not linger any longer than they need to, and they prepare themselves in the field. Ochako waits out their stretching before cupping her hands around her mouth to mimic a megaphone.

“Finish him off, Tsu! Start!!”

“Hey, we’re supposed to stay neutral!” Izuku turns to her, but she shrugs and keeps all of Tsuyu’s accessories and coat close to her chest as she watches eagerly. He forfeits a further argument, lighthearted as it were, and hugs his knees as he looks on.

Tsuyu keeps herself moving, leaping from side to side to keep her position unpredictable and shorten the distance between them. Her moves are quick and out of his natural range due to their stark difference in heights, and she uses it to her advantage when he swings a right hook. She ducks, and he swings again with his left, and she leaps from the dirt to twist herself midair and latch her leg around his neck, spinning the both of them in her momentum as she yanks them down to the ground with her thighs locking him in place as she lands perpendicular to him.

His hands press her thigh to pry himself loose, but she’s relying on their strength to keep him down. Ochako starts a mock countdown, pausing for dramatic effect when he manages to push them apart enough to squeeze himself loose and release an icy cough, and he holds up a hand to call an end to the match while she repositions her crouch to lunge for him again, but quickly returns to standing.

“That was incredible!” Izuku marvels at her technique as she pats her large hand against Shouto’s back.

“I just wanted to see if I could break your grip before calling it off,” he admits. “I’ll have to spar with you more under better circumstances.”

“You train a lot in your spare time, don’t you?” she asks with her finger on her cheek while they walk back to the circle.

“Yeah, but my sparring partner...s aren’t usually the small and agile type.”

She notes the correction but chalks it up to an afterthought when considering the class as a whole, and Tsuyu feels herself smiling at the thought of overcoming their weaknesses with each other’s help. But her smile spreads further when Ochako returns her clothes to her and hugs her tight with various praises about how cool that was and how she wishes she’d have filmed it.

Shouto returns to where his bag lay between Izuku and Ochako, and he exhales frosty breath as he dresses himself again and bundles the lower half of his face in his scarf wrapped around his neck. The boy beside him scoots closer to get a better look, and Shouto thanks his scarf from masking most of his flush from the green eyes lingering on him. “What is it?” he asks, voice muffled by the cloth.

“Are you okay doing that? Fluctuating your body temperature rapidly like that, I mean.”

“It’s fine, but I’m benching myself,” he replies. “Do you need me to warm up your jacket or anything?”

“Maybe if it lands on me again, yeah,” he looks away and props his arm on his knee to somewhat hide his face behind.

“Since everyone’s had a chance, does anyone want to just go for it?”

“Tsuyu, as much as I want to see you take us down, I think you should sit out to keep warm,” Ochako reluctantly advises, and Tsuyu blinks up from her nose sheltered by both mittens, sighing and concealing her frown when she nods. “Hey, Deku? Wanna fight me?”

Her grin says it all. She was listening to them.

“You’re on!” he regains his spirit and springs to his feet. He yanks the zipper down and pulls the thick sleeves from his arms to plop into Shouto’s extended hand, missing how the other boy’s fingers clutch into the fabric gently. Ochako’s attitude mirrors his, and she rips her own jacket off with an exaggerated pop of each snap button.

They walk toward the designated clearing, and both Tsuyu and Tenya sit at either side of Shouto with a looming presence that has him tense, almost agitated by the closeness. “What?” he asks rather than let them continue silently exchanging glances over him.

“I didn’t hear you offering to warm any of us up,” Tsuyu comments, indicating how he’s holding Izuku’s hoodie in his lap, fingers feeling the fabric absentmindedly. He almost apologizes if they’re bothered by it, but Tenya stops him.

“And taking his hand earlier was--”

“That was,” Shouto stops before he can listen to the fact that no one knows how to keep their eyes to themselves, and he sighs. By now, Izuku and Ochako are delivering and blocking kick after punch, their taunts and yells nearly overpowering the others’ voices. “He doesn’t take care of himself. I already knew that, but when I started working with Recovery Girl, I could understand why she got so frustrated with him.”

“Midoriya has that effect on people,” Tenya shrugs, watching the two of his friends let loose in the dirt. “But you don’t look frustrated when you look at him.”

“Usually I’m the one on that receiving end,” he huffs in a semi-smile but almost loses his composure when Izuku and Ochako momentarily abandon sparring formality to start messing around with new moves, the latter telling him his moves are weak. He retaliates by knocking her off her feet in a quick kick from below.

Tsuyu and Tenya exchange a look, wondering if they should pry further about his genuine feelings, but they don’t want to press Shouto to the point where he’ll never act again in fear of them mentioning it. They decide to let the matter go and watch as Ochako and Izuku wrangle their last bouts of energy from one another. By the time they’re sweating, panting messes of ruffled hair and dirty clothes, the sky’s cast down from blues to golds.

Shouto tends to their post-scuffle skin, dealing with Ochako first since hers are easier to identify. He clears her once he’s given her his cooled handkerchief to keep on her forearm and offered her a bandage that she could apply herself. Usually none of this particularly matters, and they aren’t used to holding back as much with quirks and an easy cure available on campus, but no one wants to spend the trip sore.

Izuku readies himself to deny the need for anything, but Shouto’s hand is already on his cheek where she managed to land a hit strong enough to cause swelling. Nervous eyes fixate on the sun setting behind his head, noticing how the orange and pink reflect off his white hairs still trying to keep in a loosened braid over his ear. Quickly, they dart away while his fingers fidget with one another, and he’s soon muttering on about how they should get going soon since the temperature is going to drop even further, despite the fact that he’s sure his skin is burning underneath Shouto’s touch, but he doesn’t dare allow the thought to cross his mind lest the ever-building snowball of his feelings comes tumbling out his mouth.

“Here,” he removes his hand and returns the jacket, nice and toasty as he’d like it. Izuku accepts and shoves his arms into it, zips it up, lifts his hood, and proceeds to tug the draw strings shut to close it around his face as he turns toward the others teasing him about his new look.

“You rather I not say anything.”

“That’s right,” Shouto watches Izuku walk on with the girls at his sides, and Tenya pats his shoulder.

“Even if he feels the same way?”

Shouto sighs, the air visibly leaving his nose in a stream of frost. Despite his best efforts, Izuku struggles to hide his heart anywhere but his sleeve; he recalls when Ochako would get too close, his face would burst in its blush to the point where he had to shelter it behind his arms. Somewhere along the way, those barriers started building around the both of them.

“Especially if he does.”

Tenya’s worry shows through his face; Shouto takes the first step to catch up with the others, and when everyone is regrouped, he advises that they take a bath before heading out again. No one argues with a quick, hot bath on the table, so they try to reach the nearest one before nightfall, gaining on them far too early.

When Shouto takes the wheel, Tenya lists off various tips to the long-term drive despite having passed the role to him back in Ochako’s hometown. Rather than shut him down, he listens to instruction and assures him he won’t immortalize them into a headline. Rest easy, he says; they do, all three bundled in their blankets and pillows after the quick meal prior. Ochako compiles her photos from the day neatly into a folder and starts filtering out the doubles, and most of them use the time to catch up on missed messages throughout the day.

“So how long until we reach the ferry?”

“We should board it sometime around midday if we don’t make any more extra stops.”

“Has everyone contacted their families for the night?” Tenya eyes the clock to make sure it’s still reasonable enough, and he’s met with a mostly unanimous variation of yeah. Shouto glances at his phone, ribbon lighting up across its screen, but he decides to ignore it to avoid a texting-and-driving fiasco. “Do you need one of us to send it for you?”

“No, I took care of it before we left. Probably just a notification about something else.”

“Oh sorry that was probably me! I uploaded a few pictures and tagged us all,” Ochako says as she scrolls through her own feed, but there are no new comments to be seen. He hums in acknowledgement, and she carries on the conversation by switching to the topic of their classmates’ party held back at the dorm for the holidays. One picture in particular has her trapped in a series of snickers, and she shares the sight of Kirishima’s spiked hair being decorated like the class’ Christmas tree with everyone but their driver. Izuku keeps his eye on the time and forces himself to disengage from the sharing once he’s dedicated himself to sleep. It doesn’t take long for the rest to follow his lead.

The clock reads half past ten when Shouto confirms their unconsciousness.

Tsuyu leaves the volume low when she connects her phone to the auxiliary cord, and she sneaks a picture of the three sleeping behind, gracelessly as ever. Otherwise, she watches the roadside from her window and notices the decline in lighting the further they stretch along. She can almost see the temperature drop, and she tries to visualize warmer climates to keep her mind off it.

“You can sleep too, if you need to,” Shouto acknowledges Tsuyu’s yawn, and she waves her hand dismissively.

“It isn’t nice to leave the driver alone,” she tugs her knee to her chest, “besides, I don’t get many chances to talk to you one-on-one.”

“I’m not very good conversation,” he states, but it sounds more like an apology. She nearly hears the word company instead.

“You don’t have to talk a lot to say something worthwhile.”

As if proving his own point, he fails to conjure a proper response and slips into his comfortable silence while she switches the audio to a more calming playlist from her phone. Ordinarily, soft vocals may lull them to sleep, but she can see his thumb’s twitching from copious amounts of caffeine coursing through his system.

Tsuyu breaks the silence after the third song, lyrics already leaving their memory. His right wrist still adorns the bracelet clashing against the beige of his cardigan, and she recalls his fluctuation between dark jackets and soft sweaters. Everyone seems to have their style: Izuku with his hooded jackets, Ochako with her sportier looks, Tenya and his collared shirts, and herself with long layers.

She takes her chances at the cast, reels back, and lets her voice plop onto the current.

“You don’t have a very consistent wardrobe, Todoroki.”

If he didn’t know Tsuyu Asui, he would squint and wonder where the statement came from; however, he answers her observation as if it were a question to satisfy whatever curiosity has suddenly struck her.

“Hand-me-downs.”

So that’s it. Peculiar that a family with immense wealth like theirs would rely on such a frugal method, but practicality governed most of Shouto’s actions to begin with. Something she can understand well-- hook, line, and sinker.

“It’s weird to me,” she glances back at Tenya sleeping soundly with Ochako and Izuku stacked against him like collapsing domino blocks, “you and Tenya are the youngest of your siblings, but I’m the oldest of mine.”

Shouto sneers, “Do we act like it?”

“If I didn’t know, I’d think you were an only child, Todoroki,” she blinks as they pass another streetlight in the darkened highway. A curious hum builds in his throat, but she shakes her head. “No, actually, you do have some little brother tendencies.”

“Such as?”

“You have a messy side,” Tsuyu ribbits, “and you take things as they come but still do your best to stand out. I guess it’s difficult to put into words now that I’m trying.” He glances toward her and blinks back to the road as if absorbing what she’s spoken into the quiet air between them. Both could be accurate; he doesn’t need to tell her the whole story for her to catch onto the complications. Instead, he takes the opportunity to hear more about her and clears his throat.

“What are your younger siblings like?”

“A handful.”

“Big handful?” he remarks and is met with a quick tongue-slap on his shoulder. He apologizes accordingly, and she grins, but it lacks her usual mirth.

“It isn’t their fault,” Tsuyu shakes her head. “Maybe it’s partly mine. I can’t help but worry about them even though I know they’re fine.”

“Do you keep in touch?”

“About every other week,” she taps her phone on her thigh. “Thankfully, I haven’t had to check in so often since my parents changed positions.” Her back eases into the seat behind her as her shoulders slump, and she turns her attention toward the window at her left. Unlike him, she isn’t as secret about her home situation, but it isn’t something she shares smiling. Shouto almost asks if she needs him to turn up the heat, but she permits her thoughts to leave her lips.

“Maybe I’m jealous. I know my parents love us, and I know they wanted us, but I don’t think they wanted to be parents, if that makes sense,” she admits. He knows better than to interrupt someone opening up, so he listens on as the road continues. “It almost feels like now that I had to leave home, they suddenly know how to balance their work to take care of my brother and sister. Neither of them had to take that kind of responsibility.”

The next light passes over, and Shouto catches Fuyumi in its flare as Tsuyu confesses an honesty that she’s kept sheltered away from her siblings’ ears. Shouto wonders if he should be the one to hear it; anyone else could offer her warmer comfort than single nods in chilling car air. He at least helps himself not overwork his left by turning on the heater instead of continuing to debate it.

“Sorry, you didn’t ask about all that,” she turns back to face the front, and he draws himself in an almost bittersweet memory sneaking across his lips in a wry smile.

“Trust me, I’ve been there,” he merges onto the next road and glances at the map, setting it down again in the cupholder after taking note of how long they’ll be on it. When he speaks again, it takes a moment or two for him to fully form the question, and he decides that with Tsuyu, there’s no need to be articulate. “Did they burden you? Your siblings, I mean.”

“They could be annoying and stressful, yeah, but the burden was never their fault. My parents are the ones to blame, even if they never intended to put that stress on me,” she looks down to her lap at her phone, screen lighting up in a late-night notification, and she locks it. “A burden like that is something I’m prepared to take again if I have to, but they’re old enough now to help out, too. At least Samidare.”

Shouto glances toward her with a subtle turn of his head, then eases to a smile and faces the road again on the exhale. Tsuyu ribbits in curiosity, finger rising to her chin as she questions the gesture. He shifts the vent away from himself and shakes his head.

“You sound like a big sister, Asui.”

“Tsuyu,” she corrects, one of the few times to him specifically. “Call me Tsuyu.” He parts his lips, readying hesitation, and closes them. While she wouldn’t take it back, she’s ready to tell him to take his time with it, but his voice returns before her opportunity.

“Then Shouto,” he concedes, and her wide smile spreads from ear to ear.

#long post /#you know when you write something and you're positive it's not very interesting but you gotta put this stuff in anyway?#That's the mood here but here's hoping next chapter flows a bit better!

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lean-mean-sam-and-dean · 8 years ago

Text

Imagine Dean Finding Your Sketchbook...

Word Count: Around 2500

Warnings: None other than fluff :)

Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam

Pairing: Dean x Reader

A/N: This one really ran away from me, it was supposed to be kind of short…but enjoy! Maybe this will appease y’all while I work on the new part of Through the Flames!

***This fic is pretty thrown together, I just wanted to give you guys something since it takes me such a long ass time to update

Summary: The reader has a sketchbook full of drawings of Dean. After a hunt, to the reader’s horror and embarrassment, she finds Dean with his nose in her sketchbook.

There was never much privacy in your life with the Winchesters. Every time you turned around one of them was always right there. On most days, that wasn’t a bad thing- especially on hunts. You knew they’d always have your back, that you were never alone. It was comforting really, comforting on those days that you needed someone when everything seemed to go wrong. Sam always had kind words of advice and assurance and Dean wouldn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you. You couldn’t help but love the fact that they were always there.

You also couldn’t help but hate the fact that they were always there. You’d started to develop a kind of sixth sense whenever one of them was nearby, you could just feel them lurking. It was more of Dean than anything, Sam knew enough to let you be.

Dean loved to hover. You decided that this was because he was such a mother hen, but you eventually came to another conclusion. Dean Winchester was sometimes too curious for your liking. You figured that at some point he’d learn his lesson because, as you had pointed out to him more than once- curiosity killed the cat.

As annoying as it could be at times, he wasn’t hurting anyone when he would lean over your shoulder to see what you were watching on Sam’s laptop. The one time he had followed you to yoga class to see where you’d been disappearing to all week wasn’t even that big of a deal either. Despite the fact that he could have just asked you, you dropped it and let him go with nothing more than a whack with your yoga mat.

There was only one thing you would not tolerate Dean Winchester getting his hands on- your sketchbook. You’d never had a diary or anything else of that sort but you’d treated the sketchbook just the same. You’d only shown Sam a drawing or two and that was the only exposure it had ever gotten. You shared most of everything you had with the boys but this was the one thing you kept to yourself.

It wasn’t because you thought you were a terrible artist, it wasn’t because you had drawn anything x-rated, as Dean had once suggested when you refused to let him see it. It was because it was filled with pictures of Dean. Sam had been featured once or twice but Dean dominated most of the pages. You hadn’t told him about it, not only because you were sure his ego would explode, but because you’d be mortified it he ever saw them. Sure, they were all innocent sketches, but something about Dean finding your sketchbook full of pictures of him was utterly horrifying.

The only thing worse than Dean finding your sketchbook, would be him finding your sketchbooks- plural. There were three of them including the one you were currently working on- all filled front to back with sketches of the older Winchester. To your embarrassment- you’d drawn him so many times you didn’t need to look at him in order to create an impressively accurate portrait of him. He was one of those people that were just fun to draw- not that you’d ever let him know that.

You laid long ways in the backseat of the Impala, listening to her purr as you worked on your most recent piece. There were only a last few touches needed and you smiled as you darkened the pencil lines of his jeans, following the length of his bow legs.

The three of you had just finished clearing a vampire nest and the boys were more than ready to get the motel and shower. If you were being honest, you were too. Between the three of you, you were covered in the most blood. Dean had even made you sit on an old blanket while muttering something about you looking like Carrie.

When you were satisfied that the drawing of Dean with a machete in hand was complete, you closed your sketchbook and slipped it into your duffel bag beside you. About a year ago you had started this habit. At some point, during every hunt you had gone on since you had started the sketchbooks, you drew a picture of him. Some were of Dean as he nursed a beer in a small town bar, others of him standing over the gaping mouth a desecrated grave.

Each one served as a memento from each hunt but there was one that held a special place in your heart. In a sleepy county in Montana you had taken pencil to paper and drawn him sitting at a worn picnic table at the county fair. He was smiling, holding three different kinds of deep fried food in his hands and as excited as a little kid. You couldn’t look at it without a huge grin forming.

The car slowed to a halt in front of the motel and you didn’t waste any time snatching up your bag and making your way inside. You quickly found some pajamas to wear after getting cleaned up and made it to the door of the bathroom just as the boys threw their stuff on the beds.

“Aw c’mon!” Dean threw his hands up, “You’re gonna take up all the hot water!”

You snickered, “Sorry Dean-o, you snooze, you lose.” You closed the door before he could say anything else. You knew the boys were just as tired as you were and decided to give them a bit of grace and shower quickly.

Dean threw himself onto the nearest bed with a grunt and your bag bounced off and onto the floor. Dean groaned. “Dammit.” He hauled himself up and strode over to the other side of the bed while Sam busied himself with his laptop.

He leaned down and grabbed your bag but all of its contents dropped onto the floor. “Are you kidding me?” He muttered. Dean was slightly afraid of what he’d find in the pile that had tumbled to the carpet. Who knows what girls packed in their bags? He quickly shoved your clothes back into the bag while trying to avoid anything he didn’t want to see. He was about to return a soft gray sweater to its place when he felt something beneath the fabric. It was stiff and thin and it took all of Dean’s will power not to take a peek. He looked over at Sam who paid no attention to him- probably doing whatever nerds like him do on their computers this late at night.

He really wanted to know what it was, and the more he thought about what it could possibly be, the more curious he became. He knew it was most likely wrapped up for a reason, it was private, and how would he explain as to how he’d found it? This had been in the bottom of your bag and there would be no easy way to tell you he’d been snooping.

Dean decided that what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you- it’s not like he’d be caught anyways, you took long showers. Maybe the sweater wasn’t even meant to hide what was inside, maybe the mystery object had gotten stuck in your clothes when you’d put it in your bag…and then the sleeves of the sweater somehow tied themselves. Before he could lose his courage Dean slipped the object from the fabric and found himself holding a blue sketchbook.

“Since when does she draw?” Sam turned away from his computer screen. “You say something?”

Dean shoved the sketchbook into his shirt and shielded the scene with his body. “What? No! I didn’t say anything. Nope.” Sam squinted in suspicion. “What are you doing?”

Dean shifted nervously as the tips of his ears burned red. “Nothing. I’m not doing anything.” Sam closed his laptop and stood from his chair. “Dean are you…are you hiding something?”

Desperate to escape the situation Dean attempted to turn the accusation back on his little brother. “I’m not- I’m not hiding anything. What- what are you hiding Sammy? I think you’re- you’re hiding something.” He backed up against the bed as Sam quickly approached.

Sam’s eyes widened as he stopped in his tracks. “Oh my god, Dean! Were you going through Y/N’s stuff?” Dean shushed him harshly. “Shut the hell up Sam, she’ll hear you!”

“Good!” Sam retorted. “She’ll know you were being a perv and rifling through her-” He was cut off when Dean clasped his hand over his mouth. “Would you shut up! I knocked her bag off the bed and everything fell out!” Dean removed his hand. “I was putting everything back in when I saw this.” He pulled the sketchbook out of his shirt and waved it in Sam’s face.

The younger brother still hadn’t the slightest idea as to why Dean had the book in his hands. It was yours, it was private. If it felt wrong to have it in his possession, it probably was. “So what? That’s her personal stuff, leave it alone, Dean.”

Dean stood with his mouth agape. “You seriously aren’t curious as to what’s in here?” Sam shifted from foot to foot but didn’t say anything. “That’s what I thought!”

Sam groaned. “I don’t want anything to do with this. Y/N didn’t say you could go through it.”

“But she didn’t say I couldn’t.” Dean reasoned. “Whatever, I’m not going to be in any part of this.” Sam reopened his laptop and sat back down with a scowl.

Dean rolled his eyes and opened the front cover. There wasn’t anything important you could possibly be hiding in a sketchbook. Maybe it was something like John’s journal, documenting new information and drawings of monsters he’d never seen before. So what if he’d seen some doodles you’d made, what was so wrong about him appreciating your art? Why had you hidden-

“Oh,” Was all he could say when he realized that the first drawing was of him. He wore a grin and that bulky winter coat with the big furry hood. Dean remembered this as a moment from a vengeful spirit hunt in Michigan months ago. Dean didn’t know what to say- didn’t know what to do, so he turned the page. Just as it was on the first, two more drawings of himself stared back at him.

He wasn’t even sure how to feel at first. He was so taken aback by the fact that you’d want to draw him of all people he could only stand and gawk at your artwork. Not only did you seem to be quite talented, but you had captured everything that made Dean, Dean. From the soft curve of his jaw to the way he held himself, it was all beautifully displayed upon the page.

“Woah.” Dean turned to find his brother looking over his shoulder. Evidently his curiosity had gotten the better of him too. “Yeah, woah is right.” Dean breathed. He flipped page after page, all of them filled with drawings of him, all from different hunts.

“Did you know she was doing this?” Sam shook his head. “I mean, she’s shown me a few sketches but not this. This is…these are amaz-”

“Oh my god.”

The brothers turned to see you in the doorway of the bathroom, face flushed red as you stared at them with wide eyes. “Where did you get that?” Dean guiltily closed the sketchbook and Sam chuckled nervously.

There was an awkward moment of silence until Dean cleared his throat. “I- um I accidentally knocked your bag off of the bed and this,” He held up the book, “fell out.”

You crossed the room in about three steps and plucked it from his hand. “That was private, Dean.” You said quietly, shoving it back in your bag. “It was wrapped up in one of my shirts, I know for a fact it didn’t just ‘fall out’.”

Sam looked to Dean and raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t seen his brother untangle the book from the sweater earlier. Dean let out a breath. “I know sweetheart, I’m sorry I just-”

“Just what Dean?” You turned on him with a glare. “You just thought that because I wasn’t there you could go through my stuff?”

“You’re right I shouldn’t have done that, but Y/N-”

You cut him off as you slung your bag over your shoulder. “I think I’m gonna sleep in the car tonight.” Dean caught your arm as you pushed past him. “Why are you so upset that I saw your drawings?”

You looked at him like he had grown a second head. “Are you serious?” Sam snatched up his own belongings and headed as fast as he could towards the bathroom. “I’m gonna take a shower.” There was no way in hell he was staying for that conversation.

“Because I’m humiliated Dean! You saw everything that was in there!”

“So what!”

“So every single one of them was of you! Going through that sketchbook is like going through my diary!”

It was quiet again and the only thing Dean could feel was shame. You shook your head and opened the door. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“They’re really good you know.”

You stopped in the doorway. What did he just say? Did he just compliment you? He didn’t just tell you that it was creepy that you had an entire sketchbook filled with pictures of him?

“What?”

Dean smiled and fidgeted with his hands. “I said, they’re good. Like really good.” You slowly closed the door. “You- you don’t think it’s weird? I mean I never asked to draw you-”

“I don’t think it’s weird,” Dean took a step towards you. “I think they’re amazing.” Another step. Your chest tightened. “I think you’re talented.” Another step. He was now so close his breath stirred the hairs framing your face.

Dean tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “And I think you’re beautiful.” He said quietly. Your breath hitched in your throat as his eyes traveled down to your lips. He looked back up to you as if asking for permission, you gave a slight nod. Dean cupped your face in hands and pressed his lips to yours. Your heart about exploded in your chest. He smelled like blood and sweat but you didn’t care- you grabbed a fistful of his shirt and deepened the kiss.

“I thought it would scare you off.” You murmured as you parted, resting your forehead against Dean’s.

Dean chuckled and you felt the rumble from his chest against yours. “Are you kidding? I’ve held a torch for you for years. A few drawings aren’t going to scare me off, sweetheart.”

You leaned back to get a good look at him. “Really?” Dean grinned. “Really.”

Suddenly the mood changed as he wiggled his eyebrows. “And you know, if you ever need a nude model…” You slapped his arm as he laughed. “You ruined the moment, you idiot!”

He placed a kiss to the top of your head as he squeezed you in his arms. “But I’m your idiot now, right?”

“Yes,” you wrapped your arms around his middle, “You’re my idiot.”

Tags: @hasta-impalasta @torn-and-frayed @ilostmyshoe-79 @faith-in-dean @bringmesomepie56 @deanssweetheart23 @impala-dreamer @luci-in-trenchcoats @curliesallovertheplace @chaos-and-the-calm67 @ravengirl94 @lipstickandwhiskey @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @effie-w

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