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umlewis · 1 day ago

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How Lewis Hamilton Finally Got His Ferrari Red

On Valentine’s Day, Lewis Hamilton enters a sprawling studio space in northwest London and intently stares at the magnificent creature standing off in the distance.

“Sh-t,” says Hamilton to no one in particular. “I’m nervous.”

Soon enough, however, the seven-time Formula One world champion overcomes his anxiety and is standing face-to-face with a shiny black stallion named Aroma. He pets his nose, massages his neck, generally spreads his hands all over Aroma’s thick coat. He is doing his allergies, the source of his initial fear, no favors. But Hamilton, a literal knight, is enamored, peppering the horse master with questions. Where’s Aroma from? (Portugal.) Can he sleep lying down? (Yes.) How much does he weigh? (About 1,300 lb. Only a few hundred less than Hamilton’s race car.)

He’s throwing health caution to the wind in order to commemorate his much ballyhooed move from Mercedes, where he won six of his seven F1 driver titles, to the venerated Scuderia Ferrari HP race team: a photo of himself positioned in front of an actual black horse standing on his hind legs, mimicking the Italian automaker’s famous logo. Like Hamilton, Aroma—who is retired but still does the occasional photo shoot—has an impressive resume, including appearances in Robin Hood and Maleficent, ads for Hermès and Burberry, and a Dua Lipa video; he is joined by Theo, a stunt horse you might recognize from Bridgerton, among other things. “This is going to be such an iconic picture,” says Hamilton while trying on outfits for the shoot. “Super timeless.”

That depends, of course, on what comes after. At 40, Hamilton is aiming to not only win a record eighth F1 driver title—cementing his status as the greatest F1 driver to ever live and ending the longest-ever championship drought for the most storied race team on the planet—but also fulfill a lifelong dream. His move to Ferrari, announced before the 2024 season, was shocking worldwide front-page news: he had suited up for Mercedes for more than a decade, helped build a more diverse workforce there, and hoped to someday acquire an ownership stake in the team. It seemed he would ride into the sunset with the Silver Arrows.

Hamilton had other ideas. “You can’t stand still for too long,” Hamilton tells TIME, in his first in-depth interview about his decision to leave Mercedes for Ferrari. “I needed to throw myself into something uncomfortable again. Honestly, I thought all my firsts were done. Your first car, your first crash, your first date, first day of school. The excitement I got by the idea of, ‘This is my first time in the red suit, the first time in the Ferrari.’ Wow. Honestly, I’ve never been so excited.”

During the 2024 F1 season, Hamilton, out of respect for Mercedes—with whom he was still under contract and racing—didn’t talk much about the switch. The situation was awkward and unprecedented. (Picture LeBron James suiting up for the Los Angeles Lakers knowing he’d be playing the following year for a rival, like the Boston Celtics. Exactly. It would never happen.) All sides appear to have handled it as professionally as possible: Hamilton ended a 945-day losing streak by winning his hometown race, at Silverstone in Britain, in July before winning again in Belgium three weeks later. Meanwhile Carlos Sainz, the Ferrari driver whom Hamilton is replacing this year, helped Scuderia finish second in the constructor, or team, standings, just a few points behind 2024 champion McLaren.

Hamilton’s road to the title record won’t be easy. Some critics have questioned Ferrari’s strategy of signing an aging driver, whose best days could very well be in the rearview. They’ve wondered whether Ferrari’s more interested in marketing than winning—Hamilton is still F1’s most popular driver, by a mile, as well as an internationally known cultural figure with a hand in fashion, film, and business. (He’s co-chairing the Met Gala in May alongside Colman Domingo, Pharrell Williams, A$AP Rocky, and Anna Wintour; LeBron James is honorary chair.) Plus, a slew of younger drivers like reigning four-time champion Red Bull’s Max Verstappen, 27; McLaren’s Lando Norris, 25; and Hamilton’s new Ferrari teammate, Charles LeClerc, 27, could keep him off the top of the podium.

“The old man is a state of mind,” says Hamilton. “Of course your body ages. But I’m never going to be an old man.”

The 2025 F1 campaign, which kicks off in Australia on March 16, comes laced with intrigue. Hamilton sits at the epicenter. Ferrari is religion in Italy; when the team wins an F1 race, the bells of the Church of St. Blaise in Maranello, the small city near Bologna that houses Ferrari headquarters, ring in celebration. So Hamilton’s quest to end Ferrari’s agony, while breaking the individual title record set by Michael Schumacher—who won five straight titles with Ferrari from 2000 to 2004—will be appointment theater. Meanwhile, Hamilton is co-producing, along with Jerry Bruckheimer and others, an F1 movie, aptly called F1, that is almost literally a Brad Pitt vehicle. The film, which comes out in June, plus a competitive race for the championship, could deliver a jolt to the sport’s popularity, especially in the U.S., where F1 has boomed but flattened out a bit, given Verstappen’s predictable dominance.

A Hamilton championship in red, in the twilight of his racing life, would be nothing less than one of the greatest mic-drop moments in sports history. “I don’t know if I can find an adjective to describe that,” says American racing legend Mario Andretti, the 1978 F1 champion who raced for Ferrari in the early ’70s. “Nothing is missing in his career. But oh man, how better can you describe your career after that? Oh my God, he’d be the king of all kings.”

Two weeks before the stallion photo shoot, Hamilton is striking golf balls into a simulator at an indoor club on the banks of the Thames. (He has a pronounced slice.) He doesn’t golf much these days, but Hamilton being Hamilton—a man who has taken full advantage of this sport’s jet-setting ways to become one of the world’s most prominent collectors of influential people—he last played a round with actor Tom Holland, a.k.a. Spider-Man. His other golf partners have included Samuel L. Jackson and Kelly Slater, the surfing GOAT. He was once supposed to play with another GOAT, Michael Jordan, but when Hamilton got to the course, he says, Jordan “didn’t end up being there.”

As we’re taking swings, I ask Hamilton if he’s checked out TGL, the indoor golf competition founded by Tiger Woods and Rory McIlroy that just launched its first season in the U.S. He hasn’t. I explain some of the particulars—it’s a team league, ESPN is showing it on weeknights—before it sounds familiar. But Hamilton is involved with so many projects—movies, art, fashion lines, the Denver Broncos, a pet-food company, a plant-based burger chain with Leonardo DiCaprio—that he can’t quite remember whether he poured some money into this new outfit. “I might have,” he says, with a laugh. (He did.)

Hamilton takes a break from golf, reclines on a couch, and orders a latte before sharing the story of how he arrived at this moment. It began a long time ago, when he was a kid growing up in public housing north of London. His first Ferrari memories have stuck with him. He would drive Schumacher’s car in racing video games. The Ferrari replica featured in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off—the 1961 250 GT California Spyder—is still, to this day, Hamilton’s favorite. “That’s the ultimate retirement car,” he says. “I can just see myself with Roscoe, him with a scarf and goggles in the seat next to me, driving down the PCH.” (Roscoe, Hamilton’s pet bulldog—who, like his owner, is vegan—has an Instagram account with 1.1 million followers.)

McLaren signed Hamilton to a driver’s deal in 1998, when he was 13. In 2006, Hamilton won the championship in what is now known as Formula Two. “I did have the bit of red on my helmet,” he says. During that F2 season, and the one prior in F3, Hamilton raced for team principal Frédéric Vasseur, whose management style and ability to recruit top engineering talent to his lower-level operation impressed the young driver. Hamilton figured Vasseur would be a F1 leader one day.

Hamilton won his first F1 championship in 2008, his second season with McLaren. He competed there for four more seasons before jumping, in 2013, to Mercedes, a middling team that Hamilton lifted to championship heights. Through it all, Hamilton maintained cordial relations with Ferrari leadership. He’d walk past the Ferrari garage at races, say “ciao” to the mechanics, and hear them say “vieni Ferrari” (come to Ferrari). Around 2018, Hamilton met with Ferrari chairman John Elkann. Both sides expressed a desire to see Hamilton in red. But by the end of the 2020 season, Hamilton had four straight championships with Mercedes. He had no reason to jump ship. “If I’m really honest, I had accepted the fact that I’m probably not going to drive for Ferrari,” says Hamilton. “I was OK with that.”

After the 2021 season, Hamilton nearly walked away from racing. He—and millions of his fans—felt his record eighth driver title was stolen from him, when during the final race of the year, in Abu Dhabi, an official’s controversial decision allowed Verstappen to overtake Hamilton in the last lap and clinch his first title. Hamilton ultimately refused to quit without a fight, but he failed to win a single race as Verstappen cruised to another pair of championships. Hamilton signed a two-year extension with Mercedes in the summer of 2023, but the deal allowed him an option to leave after one year.

Meanwhile, true to Hamilton’s prediction, his de facto coach in the minors, Vasseur, took over an F1 team in 2016. Before the 2023 season, he was hired for a new team-principal gig—at Ferrari. Vasseur got wind of the loophole in Hamilton’s new deal—“He told me at one stage,” says Vasseur. “Good news”—and aimed to sign an agreement with Hamilton before the 2024 season. He wanted his drivers under contract last year, LeClerc and Sainz, to be free of whispers regarding their status. So while Hamilton was at his home in Colorado in December 2023, he got a call from Vasseur asking him to join Ferrari starting in 2025. “I remember getting off the phone and, like, almost shaking,” says Hamilton, who’s now almost shaking while recalling the moment. “I was like, Oh God!”

He told a friend who was with him about the call; they both sat in silence on a bathroom floor in shock. “I was like, Holy sh-t,” says Hamilton. “I literally just signed with Mercedes.” Breaking up with a team that felt like family was far from a no-brainer. And he didn’t have much time to decide. “It was a lot to take in, and my emotions were really high,” says Hamilton. “So I honestly had to go for a walk.” He left the house for an hour to decompress.

Hamilton then spent a few days meditating. He was leaning toward Ferrari. “My eyes felt really calm and present,” he says. “This is the right thing for me.” When he’d switched from McLaren to Mercedes all those years ago, he solicited too much advice. Here, he confided in just a few family members and trusted friends. “One cannot discount the Ferrari influence on the sport, especially through the eyes of a child,” says Mellody Hobson, co-CEO of Ariel Investments and the former chair of the Starbucks board, who’s very close to Hamilton. During negotiations, after every phone call with Ferrari, he’d jump around like a little kid.

“We’re in a time of reimagining the future, reimagining what really dreaming is about,” says Hamilton. “I’m going to Ferrari, man, and that’s the biggest dream.”

Not everyone is so thrilled. The day after he informed Mercedes team principal Toto Wolff of his decision was Hamilton’s annual paintball outing with his race-team mechanics. When he arrived, he was too nervous to get out of his car. “These are guys I’ve been with so many years,” says Hamilton. He eventually stood on top of a table to address his decision. His squad appeared understanding and supportive. But they let him have it in paintball. “They lit me up, hard,” says Hamilton. “It was so painful.” At one point, he was hiding behind a barrel shooting at the other team when he was struck from behind. A member of his own squadron had nailed him. “Freaking guy,” says Hamilton.

They laughed about it afterward and managed to get through the season. “There is no bad blood,” says Hamilton. “Absolutely not. We won so many championships.” (Mercedes declined to comment for this story.) Andrea Kimi Antonelli, an 18-year-old from Bologna, will take Hamilton’s place in the Mercedes lineup. “They have all the ingredients to win world championships, and they will win more world championships,” says Hamilton of Mercedes. “I have no doubt.”

In a book published in November—Inside Mercedes F1: Life in the Fast Lane—Wolff says Hamilton’s move “helps us because it avoids the moment where we need to tell the sport’s most iconic driver that we want to stop … We’re in a sport where cognitive sharpness is extremely important, and I believe everyone has a shelf life.” The comments caused a stir, and Wolff clarified that Hamilton is still “very sharp.”

Hamilton insists Wolff’s remark doesn’t bother him. He points to athletes like Tom Brady and LeBron James who’ve achieved success into their 40s. “Don’t ever compare me to anybody else,” says Hamilton. “I’m the first and only Black driver that’s ever been in this sport. I’m built different. I’ve been through a lot. I’ve had my own journey. You can’t compare me to another 40-year-old, past or present, Formula One driver in history. Because they are nothing like me. I’m hungry, driven, don’t have a wife and kids. I’m focused on one thing, and that’s winning. That’s my No. 1 priority.”

He also dismisses criticism from the broader racing community. Former F1 team owner Eddie Jordan said in a December podcast that it was “absolutely suicidal” for Ferrari to drop Sainz from its roster, given the strong working relationship between him and LeClerc. (Sainz will now race for Williams.) “I’ve always welcomed the negativity,” says Hamilton. “I never, ever reply to any of the older, ultimately, white men who have commented on my career and what they think I should be doing. How you show up, how you present yourself, how you perform slowly dispels that.”

Others, including former Ferrari driver Jacky Ickx, have suggested that Ferrari has signed Hamilton primarily for his commercial value. “I think it’s really unfair to Lewis, some of the comments saying, ‘This is a marketing operation,’” says Elkann, the Ferrari chairman. “Truth said, Lewis doesn’t need that. Ferrari doesn’t need that. What we need to do is win championships and do great things on the track. If that happens, what we can do outside of the track, in some ways, takes care of itself. There’s unlimited possibilities.”

The pressure, internal and external, Hamilton faces is immense. No F1 team owns more constructor titles than Ferrari, but they last won in 2008. Ferrari also owns the driver record, with 15, but the last Ferrari driver to win an individual crown was Kimi Raikkonen, in 2007. Ferrari fans are so passionate that they go by their own name, the tifosi. At the Ferrari museum, not far from the team’s 9.3 million-sq.-ft. campus in Maranello, Italy, pilgrims often start crying, or propose marriage, in the Hall of Victories, which showcases the team’s championship cars and more than 100 trophies.

One night in early February, at the Ristorante Montana, which displays a trove of Ferrari memorabilia in its dining room, Andrea Puttini, a seller of building materials from Naples, is outside enjoying a smoke. “In Italy, we say it’s not important if you speak bad or speak good about something,” says Puttini. “The importance is that you are talking about this. And Hamilton, just for being here, he lets us talk all over the world about Ferrari.”

Hamilton connected with as many of his new co-workers as possible during his first visit to Maranello in January, shaking hands until his arm was pulsating. “The amount of ciaos and grazies and piaceres I was saying, aye aye aye,” he says. After his first test run, he went out to greet the supporters lining a bridge that overlooks Ferrari’s private racetrack. A few weeks later, a fan decked out in a red Ferrari shirt and cowboy hat cut down a tree to allow the tifosi a better look at a Hamilton practice.

Hamilton first spotted himself in a Ferrari suit while in, of all places, the loo; he was washing his hands and looked up into the mirror. “I’m in red, I’m like, Whoa!” he says. He paused for a moment to take in the reflection. He liked what he saw. “The suit looked so good on me,” says Hamilton, laughing. “I’m like, Damn.” When seated in a Ferrari race car for the first time, he closed his eyes when the engine started and smiled. “The vibrations are different,” he says. He let them course through his body. “You just wonder how that feels,” Hamilton says. Now he knows. “It’s a really, really special moment.”

Still, Hamilton is well aware that Italian sports fans have not always been so welcoming of Black athletes like himself. He competed in karting races there in his younger days, starting at around 12, and experienced racist abuse, just as he had in England. He prefers not to go into details. “I don’t want to dwell,” he says. But he’s heard the racist chants directed at Black soccer players in particular. “I’m not going to lie, it definitely crossed my mind when I was thinking about my decision,” he says. “Like in so many things, it’s often such a small group of people that set that trend for many. I don’t think that it’s going to be a problem.”

Ferrari’s diversity—or lack thereof—was Hamilton’s more pressing concern. In the wake of George Floyd’s 2020 murder, as part of the worldwide sports protest movement against racial injustice, Hamilton started the Hamilton Commission to offer recommendations for more Black representation in U.K. motorsports. Mercedes launched its own diversity initiative in the months that followed and began hiring personnel from underrepresented groups, including Black engineers. “I did think, Oh my God, I’ve finally got a more diverse working environment that we’ve built over time,” says Hamilton. “And now I’m going back to the beginning of my time with Mercedes, where it wasn’t diverse.”

Along with every other F1 team, Ferrari signed a Diversity and Inclusion charter in November. While the new Trump Administration has made a point of attacking diversity—the President has signed a series of executive orders targeting diversity, equity, and inclusion programs—Hamilton, for one, remains locked in. “I’m not going to change what he does, or the government does. All I can do is try to make sure that in my space, in my environment, I’m trying to elevate people,” he says. “There’s going to be forces along the way that don’t want that, for whatever reason I can’t fathom. That doesn’t stop me. It is a fight that we’ll just keep fighting.” Hamilton is confident that Ferrari is committed to inclusion.

Vasseur, Hamilton’s new boss, agrees that it’s important, though as he fiddles with a binder clip in an office at Ferrari headquarters, where trade secrets are so closely guarded visitors must place stickers over their mobile-phone cameras (red ones, of course), he suggests that it may not be his top goal. “It’s not politically correct, but first is performance,” he says. “I’m keen to go into the direction of diversity and so on. We are doing our best effort. We are trying to push in this direction, but I want to build up the best team.”

I show Vasseur, who hails from France, a photo I found online: it’s him and Hamilton some 20 years ago, celebrating a win. He shows me some photos on his own phone, of his children, who are now grown, with Hamilton. He’s enjoying the walk down memory lane. But, he says, “We can’t be sentimental.”

Switching teams is difficult for any driver. The steering wheel, the cockpit, the terminology, they’re all different. “I’m literally learning a completely new book,” says Hamilton. F1 regulations allow limited practice time in the new car. He’s made strides in his Italian, thanks to lessons, but he’s by no means fluent. It took Hamilton more than four months to win a race in his first season with Mercedes. What gives Vasseur confidence that Hamilton will accelerate that learning curve?

“I could reply like a book and give you something that you want to write,” Vasseur replies. “But at the end of the day, at this part of the season, the feeling, the first time, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, will be nothing compared to race one in Australia. You will forget about everything that happened before. It’s all about pure performance.”

While Hamilton swears his devotion to Ferrari, his schedule has remained plenty full. A Fashion Week and red-carpet regular, he has his own production company, a Dior line, and other enterprises. He says he’s in the preliminary stages of developing scripts for a comedy—it doesn’t involve racing—and a film pertaining to pets. (That’s all he’ll offer.) But the biggest thing on the horizon, besides of course the 24 Grand Prix races in the season, is the upcoming F1 movie.

Tom Cruise had first connected Hamilton with director Joseph Kosinski because Hamilton was interested in an acting role in Top Gun: Maverick. Kosinski was ready to bring him on board, but Hamilton was still fighting for championships with Mercedes and couldn’t afford the time commitment. Cruise screened the movie, which grossed $1.5 billion worldwide upon its 2022 release, for Hamilton in London. “I was crying a bit inside,” Hamilton says. “Ah, that could have been me!”

So when Kosinski called Hamilton about his F1 project, Hamilton jumped at the chance to be a producer. Early in the process, he took Pitt, who plays a veteran F1 driver in the film, for a drive around a track near Los Angeles. “He gave Brad the scare of a lifetime in a lap,” says Kosinski. “Brad was clawing at the windows, begging to get out.” Hamilton was also part of the casting process and offered instructive feedback. “The notes are so detailed,” says Bruckheimer. “‘When you’re going into that next turn, you have the car in second gear, it should be in third. I can hear it. I can hear the sound of it.’” He pushed for Hans Zimmer, composer of The Lion King, Gladiator, Dune, and other hits, to score it. His close relationship with F1 CEO Stefano Domenicali, a former Ferrari team principal, helped the filmmakers gain access to F1 tracks and races to shoot scenes. “He opened all those doors for us into that world,” says Kosinski. “We would not have been able to do this without him.”

Hamilton is predicting box-office success. “It’s going to blow away anything that’s ever been done in Formula One before,” Hamilton says. The Netflix behind-the-scenes docuseries, Formula 1: Drive to Survive, has been properly credited for expanding F1’s popularity, especially in the U.S. Hamilton believes this movie will compel viewers from all different backgrounds to become fans, or even pursue a career in F1. “Netflix has been huge,” he says. “This is going to be even bigger, on more of a global scale.” While F1 might not count as art-house fare—“I don’t think we set out for it to be, like, an Oscar-winning movie,” says Hamilton—he’s promising a memorable experience. “The goal is to make people feel good, to bring people in, to inspire people,” he says. “We want you to leave the cinema and be like, ‘Wow, that was freaking wicked.’”

But even with his creative juices flowing, he’s as energized as ever to drive. In other words, unlike Aroma, whose presence does not seem to have triggered Hamilton’s allergies at all, he has no plans to slow down. “What I can tell you is, retirement is nowhere on my radar,” says Hamilton. “I could be here until I’m 50, who knows.”

Hamilton believes that he and LeClerc are the strongest team pairing in the sport and that Verstappen is “absolutely” beatable. “I know exactly where the North Star is,” says Hamilton. “I know where I need to go. I know how to get there. It’s far, and it’s going to be tough to get there, but I know I’ve got all the ingredients, all the people, an amazing team around me. So it’s how much you want it. And I can’t express to you how much I want it.”

#lewis hamilton #f1 #formula 1 #fic ref #fic ref 2025 #not a race #2025 not a race #pre-season #pre-season 2025 #brad pitt #(note to self: time magazine article to go with march 2025 cover)

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paceprompting · 3 months ago

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paper kiss

written for ‘mistletoe’ wc: 982 # | steddie | rated: t | cw: no warnings apply | tags: pre-relationship, pining, fluff, werewolf steve, human eddie

@steddieholidaydrabbles

Steve had a problem.

Call in the troops, all hands on deck, cannot afford to fail level of problem.

Except he couldn’t exactly go around blabbing this issue to the entire party. Dustin alone would blab in five seconds, and he’d never hear the end of it for as long as he lived.

How was he supposed to admit the simultaneously best and worst idea he’d ever had to kiss Eddie for the first time?

Eddie had never the opportunity for the romantic nonsense, even if he rolled his eyes or stuck out his tongue at any sight of it. Eddie’s walls were covered in thorns and bristles from years of needing to bite first what usually came to harm him.

Steve, on the other hand, was highly practiced in romantic nonsense.

So, clearly: Christmas time equaled mistletoe.

Genius in its simplicity.

Idiotic in that it was fatal.

Because now he was basically supernaturally allergic to the stuff.

You get bit by one demodog and you had severe drawbacks, go figure.

It was hard enough trying not to stick his nose in Eddie’s collarbone—scenting, Robin called it. He didn’t want to know what the hell she was reading—and envelop himself in Eddie's forest, smoky scent while leaving his own behind. Even though he was literally the only person in Hawkins who could smell the difference, getting bit had come with all these other weird instincts.

Somehow, dealing with the transformation every full moon was easier than navigating daily life when every slight against the kids, against Robin, against Eddie had his claws and fangs bursting out with an inhuman snarl.

That he needed nearly two and half times more calories than ever just to not feel like he was going to pass out by midday.

When every time he looked at Eddie, he wanted so intensely his jaw hurt until they were close enough Steve could catch his scent. Close enough to always know he was okay because Steve was close enough to get to him.

Steve sighed, tapping his fingers on the counter.

“I’m just going to buy some.”

Robin leaned into his eyeline, a fearsome frown on her face, and jabbed her finger into his chest. “You’ll die, dingus.”

“Only if I directly inhale it.”

She flicked him. “Why is it important?”

Eddie wasn’t at the house, yet. He had chauffeur duty for the impeding Christmas-ification of Steve’s house—tinsel, garlands, lights, the whole nine yards—and the plan had led to Steve’s badly wonderful idea.

The kids would be so distracted decorating/devastating his house, Steve could easily pull Eddie aside for a private moment.

And they had both been too much shit. Eddie was worth more than a plain old kiss.

The kids entered the house in a whirlwind, shouting and laying out boxes and shopping bags to tear into without so much as a hello. Steve chuckled to himself.

He smelled Eddie before he saw him, and raised his head. His dark curls were dotted with melting snow, cheeks pinkened by the cold. Eddie stared intently at them, with something hidden in his hands.

Robin dismissed herself, hissing quietly at him before she darted off, “Just do it.”

Eddie didn’t watch her leave, slowly stepping into the kitchen until Steve met him halfway. Steve still couldn’t see what he was holding, Eddie’s fingers curled around something small.

Steve breathed in his fresh scent—pine forest and smoke—the tension in his shoulders fading.

“Um, I had this, sort of…thing. An idea,” Eddie started quietly.

“Do I get to hear it?”

Eddie started to roll his eyes, and then stopped himself. Like he was trying not to fall into old habits. Strange.

This idea had to be something special.

“So, I really want to kiss you.”

Steve’s heart pounded so loud in his ears, he hardly processed that Eddie had kept speaking, his enclosed hands moving in their usual way. Drew Steve’s attention all the more to what he was hiding.

“I thought, Christmas, mistletoe. Perfect opportunity.” Steve bit his lip to keep from smiling, since Eddie had gone onto the inevitable conclusion. “And then I remembered that would probably kill you before we ever got to enjoy it.”

Steve clicked his tongue. “Yeah.”

“So, instead, I made this.” Eddie opened his hands, and extended out what looked like a small plant with oval leaves and red berries.

Hesitantly, Steve reached for it. Eddie wasn’t about to poison him, but Steve wasn’t sure what to expect as he grabbed with two fingers at the nearest leaf. The thing crinkled as Steve lifted it.

“Paper,” he said with a soft smile.

He held the faux-mistletoe in one hand, examining it with the other. Stems of green oval leaves, tiny red berried and tied together at the top with a white ribbon. It was soft and slightly fuzzy like construction paper, and Steve faintly smelled Eddie’s pine forest all over it.

“And safe,” Eddie said.

All this to overcome Steve’s werewolf allergy. Because they both wanted to kiss.

For some reason, particularly under mistletoe.

Steve looked at Eddie, his eyes wide and waiting. He chuckled. “We have made this so complicated.”

Eddie arched a brow.

“You transform into a hairy beast every full moon and I really want you to hold me down and lick me all over the rest of the month. Let’s just say our lives haven’t been simple for a while.” He stepped close, plucking the mistletoe from Steve’s hand to run it over his lips.

He flicked his eyes toward Steve over the paper leaves, playful and heated. A pleased growl rumbled through Steve’s chest, and Eddie’s eyes just gleamed. They had moved close enough that all one of them had to do was drift that much closer.

“Are you going to kiss the mistletoe?” Steve asked, peering at Eddie’s mouth and imagining the taste of pine and smoke. “Or me?”

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie microfic #steddie drabble #werewolf steve #fluff #pining #mistletoe #pre relationship #if you've seen that one doctor who episode #you know where i got the allergy idea from

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polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup · 8 hours ago

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did every hero really follow endeavor's plan during the jail break? I've never watched bnha, but I always figured there were more heros then Japan knew what do with. Was endeavor really just that worried about how the fight again AFO would go? and did AFO have the league with him? or other prison escapees? Given eraserhead was so entrenched?

As a preliminary matter--yes, it was way more than AfO. The League basically did what they did during the USJ arc and subcontracted their violent attacks. They needed a big force to first get AfO and everyone else out of Tartarus, and then they made it very clear (via loudspeaker and also fucking tweet) that they would all be very peacefully retreating while all those criminally insane and violent motherfuckers went that other direction. Ball's in your court as to how you want to tackle it.

AfO was the biggest threat, by fucking far, but it was far from isolated to him. It was the entire League of Villains + Their Very Special Friends. It was the kind of force that would be required to make the entirety of Tartarus fall for the first time in history. So the heroes had plenty to keep them busy.

And as to whether Endeavor was that scared about the next fight with AfO... Yeah.

I think bnha does a good job at establishing that All Might and AfO just exist at entirely different levels than every other person alive. Their fight leveled a decent chunk of Kamino. And I think that's kind of power and devastation is hard to conceptualize as like, people in a world where we don't have to worry about superhero fights. (as a side note--Sukuna's Big Fight in the Shibuya arc from JJK did better than any other fight in media to really capture the sheer cosmic horror of being caught as a bystander in one of those fights).

But endeavor saw it. He was there for AfO’s and All Might’s last fight. The gods were fighting. Everyone else was just an ant.

He is facing the villain that ultimately took down All Might. All Might won Kamino, sure. But he didn't get up again after. He was permanently and irreversibly taken out of play. And Endeavor has spent the last year feeling like he was struggling to be even half of what All Might was with two hours of productivity a day. He was so consistently voted to not be able to compare to All Might that he bought a wife and had four kids about it, all of whom hate him actively.

He does not think he is winning this fight. He is Japan's number one hero. The responsibility is going to fall to Midoriya Izuku to him. He is the best they have left, and the fight that would be coming was one that already nearly killed All Might, the one guy he has never ever been able to compare to. And when he really looked himself in the mirror and asked if he could stop AfO, the answer was no.

And it wouldn't just be AfO if he came back to power. It would be his followers--and he was liable to get more than just the current League of Villains roster. It would mean more Nomus. They could barely handle one Nomu--how could they possibly handle the Nomus, and the LoV, and AfO?

And the answer that he came to was that they couldn't. Not without All Might.

He thought he was sacrificing Yokohama for every single other city AfO was going to level if he had time to grow in strength again. He thought that if they threw absolutely everything they had at him while he was weak, then maybe they could contain him and the League before entire cities fell.

So. That's why he came to that decision. Why did every hero fall into line?

So what’s key to what happened here was it was this complete structural breakdown at exactly the wrong time.

Structural Flaw #1: Transportation

Was it every hero in Japan that responded to Endeavor’s order? No. But not every hero in Japan was available. Any heroes out of the immediate area were too far away to do shit.

But it's a massive crisis. Heroes would commute from all over if they could--but it's not about desire, it's about time and resources. With how imminently emergent the threat was, a lot of far-away heroes would need something like a jet to even conceivably get there in time.

Who is sending the jet?

Let's pin down what heroes could, conceivably, get there in time. Very few heroes are in walking distance. How do heroes typically get from Point A to Point B?

Hero society in bnha is an agency model. There is no communal pool of resources--you have what your agency has. You have a jet to transport you if your agency has the money for one, and I’m pretty sure only all might had that (he has since had it dismantled and the parts repurposed for the sake of the environment. He only had it to begin with so he could quickly respond to imminent threats. All Might thinks there's more than one way to save the world and saving the environment is part of it). Like. We even saw Endeavor flying fucking commercial.

But let's just assume, arguendo, that some agencies have jets. It would have to be the very top agencies to possibly afford it.

All of whom are shown in canon to mostly operate out of the same area. So they're going to have to send the jet somewhere else to get more heroes. Now any travel time is doubled. If they do send it out, how many people are they realistically getting? Are these heroes in multiple different cities? That's more travel time then. Maybe we just land the plane in Kyoto and whoever gets on in the twenty minute period while they're refueling is who is coming back. We'll hand them parachutes and kick them out the plane door over Yokohama. Okay. Good plan. Go team.

Who is sending the jet?

Like, who is physically making the call to send the jet? Who do they call? Do they just start ringing around their buddies and seeing if they have other plans? The city is on fucking fire and we need people fighting now, so the big name heroes don't have time to organize transport with other agencies. They’re not even thinking of that right now. Make it a sidekick's job.

They are all on fucking strike.

Fuck it. Fine. Make it an admin's job. There has to be some kind of office staff who can work a telephone who's available.

Who is thinking to send the jet?

Admins are not making strategic calls about where the company jets go. There would have to be some kind of protocol in place or someone with the authority to send the jet would have to think of it in the moment. And I guarantee you this would not be the case.

Because this is a society where they have canonically semi-privatized public safety and put people in direct competition with each other over it.

ASIDE: The Economic Structure of Heroics and Why It Sucks

I have an economic structure. You must listen to it. I promise it is relevant. This is why it takes me forever to do things it's because i get too deep into the weeds and have to explain the fucking economic structures underpinning the analysis for my nonsense to make sense.

How the fuck do heroes get paid?

I have no idea if canon ever tells us because to be so for real with you guys I have not watched this show in years. I haven’t cared about canon since the Shie Hassaikai arc. The fucking YouTuber arc broke me. I literally never watched it again. If they ever explain to us how heroes get paid I do not know and I do not care. I refuse to go back to canon. Everything I found out about canon after the Shie Hassaikai arc, I learned against my will. The ending to this story was so fucking stupid and I only have a scattered knowledge of the details but I’m still right. If canon ever tries to explain it then please do not tell me, I refuse to learn more things about this show.

But I still like poking around the potential economic structures based on the part of canon that doesn’t cause me psychic damage. So here’s the thought process for the economic underpinnings of hero society in the pez universe.

From canon, we know it can be an enormously lucrative profession, we know that it involves some degree of private interests (re: merch lines), and we know that there are some people who cannot have merch lines (Underground Heroes, e.g. Eraserhead), so there also must be some kind of public funding aspect to it as well. So. Who the fuck signs your paycheck?

Sources of Funding

a. Public Funding

There must be some kind of official governmental budget for heroics. Like. They are very much a public service. There would be no way to have a fully private heroics force without government funding. What else are you supposed to do, fucking Venmo heroes after they save you? Do they put your kitten back in the tree if you don’t have enough.

In my mind, there's public funds allocated to heroes as part of a city's budget. That funding is allotted based on the number of employees in a given entity balanced against the confirmed acts of heroics of that same given entity. There’s a base salary level and that can be increased based on how successful you are, but salary isn’t exclusively what this fund is for. The heroic entity (an individual hero or an Agency) is effectively receiving grant money from the government to run their agency. You put it into salaries, gear, office space, everything. The government is basically investing in heroes, and it’s investing more in heroes who are shown to have a greater positive impact on society.

It involves overly complex calculations regarding the scaled difficulty of a given bust/rescue/act and ranking of the villain (if there is one) and the overall public benefit for the service rendered. You get bonuses for having a lower average property damage, for contributing to community building projects, that kind of thing. It is Complex. There is a lot of paperwork that has to be submitted to strange and vaguely threatening government accountants. When Mirio and Izuku start their agency, they will burst into tears multiple times trying to figure it out once filing season rolls around, bundle all the paperwork in a Massive Tears And Shame Package, mail it off to the shadowy powers at be, and then get a perfunctory notice that they are getting a ludicrous amount of the city budget allotted to their dinky little agency for the upcoming fiscal year because they are Big Fucking Heroes and enormously good at what they do and it reflects in their stats. They will then lay on the ground of their haunted fucking office and stare at the ceiling for a very long period of time.

But this puts the heroes in competition with each other. Your public funding is chained to your stats under this model. There's only so many criminals out there--you've got to get the right numbers or it cuts into how much of a slush fund the agency is working with.

It's sort of an insane model for a public servant position, but I think it matches with what canon shows us. Imagine having firefighters pitted against each other. like, having a competitive model for public safety raises extreme concerns about how it incentivizes public servants to act.

But this isn't canon's model. It's my guess as to how canon works based on the hints i can remember and my own mental illness. So why do I think canon suggests a model like this?

It's because 1) canon does establish that heroes are in competition with one another and 2) this kind of model would likely be necessary due to the level of autonomy that heroes have.

The literal first fight we see involves heroes in competition with each other. Kamui Woods is doing a big Ultimate Move, and Mount Lady rushes in and steals the show. Like. that is crazy behavior if we are looking at this through the lens of a typical public servant. Imagine you're trying to get directions from a park ranger and a different park ranger kick flips in with a map and a desperate need for you to get your directions from them instead. You call poison control and they’re beating each other in the head over who gets to tell you you’re dying.

Still, on its own, the competition isn’t dispositive, because the private income streams (we'll get there) would incentivize competition even if public funding wasn't based on it. But the level of autonomy that hero offices exhibit also suggest some kind of competition model.

Heroics agencies are not run like a typical police force or fire station. With most entities that function as first responders, they respond to some kind of centralized force (like 911 call centers) and they have highly regulated resource distribution. Like, police forces are restricted to a specific jurisdiction. Within that jurisdiction they have multiple districts and officers typically stay in their district. They're not going to a different fucking city because they think the crime is cooler there.

But Endeavor does exactly that. He's like "hello, son who hates me. Let's go to Hosu because I want to fuck with the hero killer for street cred. won't you come along. It is non-optional" and todoroki says "i hate you father and will abandon you on our father son trip to set a serial killer on fire with my mind. it will be for mildly gay reasons."

These agencies aren't a centralized public service. They are all just off doing their own thing. They're not responding to specific areas as allotted to them by the city--they just fuck off and do whatever. Like, there's probably some coordination between agencies as to who is covering what patrol, but it likely would be more out of courtesy than formal requirement. People wouldn't step on each other's toes nearly as much if there was more of a structure to this.

Typical public agencies who receive funding in accordance with staffing and budgetary needs have more structure and formality than is exhibited in canon. Heroics Agencies act like they're all independent contractors. They probably function like grant money recipients, where they're all fighting for the same pool of funds. You have to write in and show why you deserve that money when that's the case. They're in competition with each other.

Like, is this definitively the structure in canon? No, of course not. I have no fucking idea what, if anything, canon has going on. But it definitely fits with canon.

b. Private Income Streams

We know from canon that it can't just be public funding. Izuku alone probably paid for the Mighty Agency private jet with how much fucking all might merch he bought. Canonically, heroes have merchandise lines, branding deals, commercials, everything. All Might had fucking movies made about him. Those are all extremely lucrative income streams--and likely where the richest heroes get the biggest brunt of their income.

In order to get this kind of income, you are necessarily in competition with your fellow hero.

Public attention, spending money, screen time, all of it--it's a limited resource. You have to be the person who gets to the fight first, who does the big move, who saves the day. If it's someone else? Then that's another kid buying their action figure instead of yours. Heroics is heavily commoditized in canon, and that inherently invites competition.

2. Distribution of Funds

So now that we have a theory as to where the money comes from, how does it get paid out? Based on canon, it comes down to a structure of (a) Independent/Underground Heroes and (b) Agencies.

a. Independent/Underground Heroes

I can't actually remember if the word "independent" is said in canon or if I came up with it, but I think canon implies its existence. It's basically the same thing as being an underground hero, but you're still a Spotlight hero. I also cannot remember if the underground/spotlight thing is canon or fanon or what I’m sorry I haven’t watched this show in years.

Independents are spotlight heroes without the backing of an agency. They just go out every day with the clothes on their back and a dream. They have no support staff, no back up, and no one to help them if things go sideways.

It is not a popular employment option.

Part of it is because it's that much harder to fund being an independent. Like. Say you're just out of high school and you decide to strike out on your own as independent. You're still spotlight, so you can have a merchandise line, and that'd be a nice income stream while you're just starting out.

How the fuck do you start your own t-shirt line?

How do you make contracts with the manufacturers? How do you make and copyright the design? how do you sell the stupid things? Do you try and get them in Walmart? Do you start an Etsy? Your own website? do you call your mom and cry when you have 500 ugly t-shirts with your face on them that no one wants to buy and they're taking up all the space in your studio apartment.

Agencies have preexisting structures in place to help launch these kinds of options, which is one of the reasons why they're so attractive for baby heroes just starting out. The only reason why Mirio has merchandise is because he decided that he didn't care and didn't need to make merch and Izuku came after him with feverish crack addict energy because he cared and he needed Lemillion merch like. yesterday. All Might ended up getting his agency to start a lemillion line. Mirio gets the profits with a reasonable fee to the Mighty Agency. To this day he suspects that Izuku is 70% of his sales but Izuku denies this fervently, like a liar (he actually has a small but very devoted fanbase who rabidly support him and buy all of his merch. he would cry if he knew this. Still. Izuku is his biggest fan and buys literally every single piece of new merch in triplicate.).

Underground heroes are in the same boat as independents but they don't even have the option of a merch line. They exclusively get public funding unless they're backed by an agency, which none of them are because agencies have a tendency to fuck them and their busts for the sake of the spotlight. All underground heroes are bitter and culturally opposed to agencies.

On that note:

b. Agencies.

This is where by far the most heroes would end up. But an agency is like thirty dudes with the same joint bank account. How does the money get there and get distributed out?

i. Public Funding in an Agency Context

Take the above model. How do you attribute public funds based on personal statistics if there's no single person? Does everyone get their own check? But that wouldn't make sense--this isn't just for salaries, it's for funding the actual heroics itself.

Everyone under the same agency would be counted together for the purposes of funding allotment. If Sidekick A managed 300 busts last year and Sidekick B man managed 350 busts, then congratulations, The Big Hero Hero Agency made 650 busts last year, here's a check made out to the agency, figure out what you want to do with it.

But what about incidents that involve multiple heroes from the same agency? Let's say that The Big Hero Hero Agency is involved in a big bust. It is Sidekick A's baby. They have spent months doing this. This has been blood, sweat, and tears. When the day comes, they are joined by Sidekick B, Sidekick C, and Big Hero himself. Sidekick B has been helping Sidekick A for the past three weeks on this case. Sidekick C got called in the day-of to help.

Big Hero showed up for the last twenty minutes of the fight when they were mostly done with everything.

So. You're filling out the post-arrest paperwork. For funding and for public statistics, you need to make sure to properly account for who gets credit for the bust. It has to be one person--if you had everyone individually credit themselves for the bust, then it looks like you've resolved four incidents instead of one under this financial model. it's artificially inflating your numbers for public funding. that's fraud. Who should get the credit: Sidekick A, Sidekick B, Sidekick C, or Big Hero?

Well, there's nothing stopping Big Hero from writing their own name. So let's go with Big Hero. He helped.

This was one of the big sources of the sidekick strikes: a lot of agencies had an absolute policy of attributing successes to the name hero if they touched the case at all, because there was no rule against it. It was better for the agency, after all--unrealistically high numbers on the biggest name meant the agency as a whole appeared more successful.

So there were a lot of heroes artificially inflating their stats with things that were more properly credited to their sidekicks. Which made it all the harder for sidekicks to leave because their stats were shit because their boss was taking credit for their work.

ii. Private Funding in an Agency Context

But that’s just public funding. How would agencies distribute private income streams?

Big Hero Agency is proud to announce its newest line of Big Hero Action Figures, featuring the Entire Big Hero Team, now retailing for $39.99. Get it now from a store near you.

So. An agency is selling an action figure line featuring Sidekicks A, B, and C, as well as Big Hero himself. We’ll round up to an even $40. How do we split up the cash?

You can’t give everyone each $10. You have to first pay the suppliers, the advertisers, the trucks that shipped the toys to the store, etc. Then you have to pay back into the agency to fund miscellaneous expenses—the stationary, the insurance, the coffee in the fucking break room. Everything. By the end, there’s only $4 of profit left over. Not great, but hey—they’re selling a lot of toys. So if they each get a $1, then it should add up quick.

Right. But. If you think about it, people are only really buying it for Big Hero. He’s the best hero of all of them—his name is on the agency, and just look at how much higher his stats are. So it’s only fair that he gets $3.70 a toy and the rest of them can get $.10 apiece. Don’t worry, it’ll add up quick.

Not all agencies would have been like this. But a lot of them would be. Money is a hell if an incentive to screw people.

END OF ASIDE.

With all that in mind—why would they feasibly have a structure to fly in help from other heroes far away? That’s their fucking competition. Sure, we have team ups, but they’re all either well in advance or in the heat of a moment. If they are in the heat of a moment, half the time the heroes resent it because they just stole their fight. They’re gonna what—pay the exorbitant jet fees to fly in someone who’s just going to steal their hard work in the eyes of the public?

Okay, but what about situations like this? Massive emergencies where you need more people?

Those haven’t ever happened before. They had All Might.

So. The heroes on the ground calling in help are out. What about the heroes who are close enough to make it there by ground transport? No one calls them, they just show up out of public need. How are they getting there?

Trains are out. All the trains into the area are shut the fuck down. We are not giving the freshly escaped villains a bullet train to the rest of the country. Same thing for buses. No fucking bus driver is making their regular route into a fucking battleground.

Private transportation it is. Anything more than a few hours out of the area is completely out of the question. Like, good ol’ Manuel from Hosu City and all his buddies? Not making it. The wild wild pussycats? Watched this on TV from their mountain home. Gran Torino? On FaceTime with All Might, who is watching the fight with Midoriya Inko’s hand gripped in his left and Bakugou Mitsuki’s hand gripped in his right. Gang Orca? Twelve hours away and on a fucking island so he needs a boat AND a car to get there. Or he just fucking swims.

But there has to be at least some hero that saw this happening and heroically climbed in their Mazda sedan to make the three hour car trip. Why didn’t they go to the fight in Yokohama instead of the one against AfO?

Frankly at that point those literal children were visibly doing way better than the actual heroes were faring and any heroes showing up went where they were most needed and uh. It wasn’t by the kids.

If we have the agency model as given to us by canon, then that means there is a decentralization of resources. If you want to utilize your public defense force in the case of emergencies, then you need a way to fucking get them to the emergency. Canon does not have that. This is a huge structural failing that only wasn’t a disaster sooner because most emergencies required one guy and he had his own private jet. So most heroes in the country never had to even consider if they would listen to Endeavor’s order because they were completely cut off and useless at the time.

So. Now the analysis has been narrowed from all of Japan’s heroes to just the ones in the immediate vicinity of the fight. That’s still a fuck ton of heroes. This is a heavily populated area with a bunch of heroes around. You can’t go outside without tripping over a hero.

Most of those guys were on fucking strike.

Structural Flaw #2: Over-Reliance on and Abuse of Sidekicks.

The vast majority of the workforce had to be sidekicks. Like, just from a business model perspective. Even the smallest agencies we saw had 2-3 sidekicks. Endeavor’s agency had at least double digits, and I think Idaten was at over a hundred or something. We were probably looking at, conservatively, a 1:10 ratio of heroes to sidekicks.

All those guys are on strike.

Okay. But not all of them, right? Idaten already settled and got their sidekicks back. That’s like a hundred guys.

Except the Strike was not isolated to the Tokyo/Mustufasa/Yokohama area. Idaten sent out a lot of their sidekicks to other regions to help alleviate some of the strains of the strike. (As a note, this was not the Idaten sidekicks crossing the picket line. Them picking up the slack for other sidekicks still striking would have helped minimize effects on the public. However, the agencies of the striking sidekicks would have reaped no benefit from this under the compensation structure outlined above. Idaten would have gotten the credit for everything their sidekicks did, so the other agencies would still be bleeding from this while risk to the public was slightly alleviated. Idaten’s entire function in this strike was to set an example for quick settlement and minimize public harm. There’s this entire sub-analysis on Idaten’s internal culture and how it intersects with broader heroics standards that I won’t get into now this is already way too long.)

Idaten is at 1/10 capacity. It has like, ten guys, all of whom have been working say, thirteen hour shifts (voluntarily—again, it was a decision made to try and minimize the public safety risks of the strike while still allowing their colleagues their best chance at improved conditions) daily for the past month.

All of those ten guys responded to Tartarus before Endeavor made the call.

To understand the exact nature of the breakdown, you really have to see the chaos of how exactly this unfolded.

The LoV and their merry band of criminals hit Tartarus. The heroes do not realize at this time that they intend to let everyone out, give them transportation, and point them straight towards the mainland. They think that they’re just there for AfO. That’s still a huge crisis that needs to be shut down immediately, so they call out all of their best. Endeavor responds. Hawks responds. Eraserhead responds. Mt. Lady, Kamui Woods, Miruko—everyone in the vicinity who could conceivably respond show up. For a second, it looks like it’s going to end here.

Once the LoV get AfO out of his cell, the entire tide of the battle turns against the heroes. Now everyone’s out. All of those horrible, terrible villains. Tartarus has fallen. They have to make hard decisions. The high ranking, very powerful heroes who are most likely to break the line on Endeavor’s decision? They’re already at the fight by the time he has to make it. It is chaos and something they cannot easily leave.

The LoV’s picked right now because they knew that the heroes were operating at less than a tenth of their regular capacity. They picked right now because they knew the system had structural faults, and if they hit them just right, it would all come down on the heroes’ heads.

But the sidekicks broke strike lines to respond, right? Why do they all go to endeavor’s side?

For one thing, it wasn’t all of them who showed up—maybe a third of them were not even in the area any more. It wasn’t malicious, or intentional, or anything like that—they were off visiting their families for the first time in a long time or taking vacation. All of them had spent the past few years being completely overworked and abused by their jobs. They just weren’t there.

So now we’re down to 2/3rds of them who can even try to show up.

A lot of it wasn’t actually made as a reasoned choice. For many of them, they ended up where they did because of all the chaos.

So you’re a sidekick. You’re on strike. The entire world has gone to shit. How do you normally find out about the world going to shit?

This is a competition model streamed through individual entities. There’s no central command structure. Your agency calls you.

Well, your agency either fucking fired you or they cut you off completely during strike negotiations. This time, you find out through the news when the story breaks. Now what?

You frantically try to get in touch with your (ex) agency. Who is picking up the phones?

No one. That was your fucking job before you went on strike.

I used to work at a government public-service type deal, and let me tell you, they abuse the fuck out of non-unionized workers. You are doing everyone’s job. No one ask why we don’t get more support staff because they have unions. Like. I had a law degree. I was hired to be a lawyer in that office. They had us all doing the jobs of four people, and by that I mean it would be the literal entire job description of another fucking position in that office and we were all expected to just do it too.

Unions incentivize treating workers right. The absence of them opens the door to the opposite.

Why the fuck would agencies hire more people to lighten the load on the sidekicks and let them focus on actual heroics? Just make the sidekicks do everything. What are they going do, complain? They’re a dime a dozen. Hire more of those fresh faced kids with no standards just out of school.

You know when you had a job where you’re like. This fucking place is going to fall apart without me. But they treat you as disposable and easily replaceable and you’re like “okay bet” and so you leave and you find out from the people left behind that it actually fucking fell apart without you and you’re just like :o

Yeah. So that happened.

There has been a massive break down in the function of heroics offices for the past month and change because the sidekicks were not there. They were the ones who actually did most of the day to day handling of the office. They were the ones coordinating transport and figuring out the actual mechanics of who would be deployed where in a crisis. All those things that would be super helpful now? Yeah, those guys aren’t there, and they’re locked out of the fucking offices and can’t get in to un-strike for the sake of societal crisis.

But they know where the fight is. It’s on the news. Why don’t they just show up?

Where’s their gear?

Who owns it?

Heroics support gear must be an enormously expensive thing. It would have to be provided by the agency itself. Literally the only reason why Mirio has gear is because 1) all might would NEVER let his pseudo step son run around without proper support so the man would have bankrolled it himself if needs must and 2) the UA support class has a stipend each year where they can make support gear for active heroes and those heroes get it for free in exchange for free advertising for the students trying to kick start their careers, so he is decked out in THE most experimental bullshit from Hatsume Mei Industries (I have this entire side plot where the support class this class year low key became a sort of religious cult haha not really it’s just a joke it’s not really a joke and power loader is afraid every single day when he comes to work he is afraid under the iron clad rule of Hatsume Mei’s weird girl energy and they all decided Mirio was the Tabula Rasa, a figure of prophecy, and I just cannot get into that right now it’s too long it’s too long already. But it’s so fun).

All those sidekicks on strike lost valuable time trying to get back into their agencies so they weren’t showing up to an S-class villain fight in their fucking jammies. Then, when some poor admins figured out what was going on and let some of them in, everyone was frantically gearing up and getting in whatever transport van they were pointed at. Some of them didn’t know they werent reporting to Yokohama until they were already at the other fight. There’s was so much chaos and confusion that very few people had a clear idea of what was happening.

With the sidekicks, some of them never made it, some of them just got in a van and went wherever it took them, and some of them chose to obey Endeavor’s orders. Some agreed with the decision. Some disagreed but deferred to his experience. With how the Sidekick Strike had left their infrastructure, very few sidekicks were able to respond fast enough to make any real difference.

Now for the last possible demographic: the heroes that weren’t on strike and weren’t initially deployed to the Tartarus Prison Break. Why didn’t any of them go to Yokohama?

Structural Flaw #3: All Might was that one kid doing the entire group project for like forty years and some of these people are having to be heroes for the very first time and realizing that they don’t actually want to risk their lives to save people they just sort of liked the idea of this job.

It may be a bit too specific to be a structural flaw but I’m counting it anyway.

So, just to give a bit of a recap: We consider every hero alive in Japan as a candidate for Endeavor’s order. The vast majority of them are too far away to do shit, and there’s no centralized transport network to get them there faster. Toss in those who are dealing with personal medical issues or are away on vacation or just can’t come for some reason or another, and you’ve lost most of the heroes in Japan as respondents. Probably ~80% of potential heroes are culled from this alone.

So we have, generously, 20% of Japan’s heroes left as potential people to respond. ~90% of those are sidekicks on strike. They’ve got hours before they make it to any fight, because of the aforementioned structural breakdowns.

Now we’re down to 2% of Japan’s total heroes.

Some of that 2% were first responders to the initial Tartarus prison break. All the big name heroes in the area. But there can’t be that many top heroes—so let’s say 0.2% of them were at the initial fight.

Now we only have the remaining 1.8% of heroes to analyze.

There have to be a percentage of those who agreed with Endeavor’s call as a tactical decision. If they show up to any fight, they’re going to be obeying his order.

So we only have the ones who disagreed with his call left to look at.

These are small-time heroes. All of the big names are already at the fight. So they are less likely to have flashy Quirks, be especially talented, or consider themselves to have an especially large effect in the grand scheme of things. They have likely spent their entire careers living in a world with All Might.

It has never actually been down to them.

Think of Uwabami. Momo did her work study with her.

Her hero outfit is a fucking evening gown. She spent the entire work study doing commercials and meeting with her fans. She explicitly invited the young heroes that she did because she thought they were cute enough to be in commercials with her.

Now, she’s had some good if minor moments helping rescue civilians. It’s not that she’s never saved anyone.

But all of the top heroes are already committed to the fight against AfO. The current Number One Hero just ordered all her colleagues to report there. And Yokohama has a lot of S-Class villains en route.

And what the fuck is she going to do to stop them? It’s just her. Half of those villains took All Might to stop the first time. She is not fucking all might.

Is this a hero likely to go to Yokohama completely on her own to fight *checks notes* literally the entire prison population minus one guy? The worst guy, albeit. But one guy.

These are all heroes who have never had to be the actual thing standing between society and destruction. There has always been someone more powerful or capable or heroic nearby. Until recently, there has always been all might.

This isn’t to malign them. A decent percentage of them are legitimately well meaning about being a hero. They do good. But when it came to the big, blowout fights, they have always, always, always been the heroes evacuating civilians in the background or performing rescue in the aftermath. It has never been them who had to stand up and do the fight itself.

Every single one of those villains represent a big, blowout fight. And this hero trying to decide if he’s going to obey Endeavor’s order? They are one guy. And they’re not sure if they could even beat one of those villains alone, let alone all.

The reason why no one disobeyed Endeavor’s order was because, frankly, at the end of the day, they did not want to die.

Endeavor’s order signaled to everyone that there was no guarantee anyone would show up to Yokohama. It actually put good odds to the opposite. If you decided “fuck that, I’m going to Yokohama” then you’d likely be doing it alone.

What Class 2-A did was considered a death sentence. People who didn’t know them and their bullshit were shocked that they all made it out alive. These were the worst villains their society had ever faced and it was all of them at once (minus that one guy).

The heroes who were in a position to disobey endeavor didn’t actually think it’d make a difference if they did. They’d just… lose.

Most if not all of these heroes made the decision to become heroes during all mights era of peace. Everything just had lower stakes. Crime was less frequent and less serious. The big fights always had someone there who could handle them, because All Might was there. They’d fight the odd mugger or purse snatcher and help put out fires and go home at the end of the night. They’re heroes. That doesn’t mean they’ve ever truly had to grapple with a life or death fight.

If they went to Yokohoma, they thought they’d die. So they might as well respond to a fight that has a chance. Even if they feel ashamed as they do it. Even if they think Endeavor made the wrong call and wanted to go to Yokohama instead. All Might wasn’t there anymore. And they were afraid.

But there is one thing that Class 2-A had going for them that gave them an advantage over these heroes. And that was the fact that they are all medically insane.

It’s that they were together.

It’s a decentralized heroics structure. If you have a large agency, you are necessarily a top hero because no one else would be able to get that many people to agree to work under them. So you’re already at Tartarus and this isn’t a decision you had to make.

Maybe you’re independent. Maybe you have a small agency with 2-3 people. There is no preexisting centralized line that you can use to try and gather more people to go to Yokohama with you. You’re stuck with your immediate colleagues and maybe a few other heroes you’re close enough with to have their number. You really don’t have time to try and ask around to see if anyone else wants to go to Yokohama instead—you need to pick a battle and get there yesterday.

What good is 2-3 people going to do in Yokohama? You’ll just get massacred and it won’t have made a difference. At least if you go to stop AfO, you’ll have a chance at doing something that mattered.

Maybe you disagree with Endeavor but you defer to his training and experience.

Maybe you don’t go at any fight at all. Maybe you’re afraid. Maybe you became a hero in a time where you had a symbol of peace, and you realize you can’t keep doing it in a time without one.

I think there’s a small subsection of heroes that quit in the aftermath of Yokohama. Because they wanted to disobey endeavor’s order, and they thought they’d just die and it wouldn’t matter, and then dawn came and a bunch of school kids had managed what they were too big of a coward to do. I think the fact that they fell into line when their hearts told them they shouldn’t made them seriously doubt whether they were good enough to be a hero.

But they were alone when Endeavor made the call. And it felt like certain death. And—yeah, it sort of felt that way to Class 2-A when they made the decision to respond. But they weren’t alone when they did it.

They were together. And they always felt braver when they were together. Together, they could make miracles happen.

#pez dispenser debris #me with fictional worlds: where is your city planner I just want to talk #none of the heroes were happy at the thought of abandoning Yokohama #Yokohama didn’t happen because the heroes actually all got together and said ‘fuck those guys let ‘em die’#it was an absolute implosion of the heroics structure that they’d spent their entire careers working on #in my mind there’s a heroics organizational reform bill still making its way through the Japanese government in an attempt to correct the #structural failings that led to Yokohama happening. Aizawa keeps getting calls for his fucking kids to speak to the government about the #issue. and he’s like ‘absolutely not someone will tell them to do a flip and they will do it and cause a public incident’#no one said it out loud but everyone was sort of terrified that one of them would die at Yokohama #you could choke on the fear during the ride over #but they didn’t know what else to do. Yokohama needed heroes and all they had were them #but when you think of Yokohama think of all the big boss fights during bnha #not afo but like. overhaul. now think of fighting a few dozen of him at once. it’s. it’s not great odds.#the idea of just responding alone in the face of that is a nonstarter. and the decentralized nature of the system meant it was borderline #impossible to get the support needed to make a defense feasible. but class 2a had each other. and that was all they needed.#going to Yokohama the next day and it not having been a bloodbath was the biggest relief of those heroes lives #endeavor had never had a good relationship with shouto but he went to him in the hospital after and genuinely thanked him #I have this mental image of Iida. concussed four times over running on fumes and slightly delirious. desperately trying to keep it together #just a little while long. he has a list of the injured who need immediate evacuation. and his classmates. some of them need to be taken to #a hospital immediately. he made a list of their medication allergies. please ensure everyone is taken to the same hospital. he doesn’t think #he could bear it if they were scattered about. and he needs to help coordinate the transports of the villains from where they’ve been #containing them. and one of the Idaten sidekicks is like. Tenya. it’s okay. you did amazing. you can relieve command now. they’ll take it #from here. and he just says. okay. and he sits on the curb and cries. he asks them if one of them could call his brother. he’d. he’d really #like to come home if that’s okay. just for a few days. he just. he wants to go home. like the aftermath of that scene was kind of brutal to #process because on one hand they had all done so amazing but on the other they were so painfully young. a lot of them broke down in the #aftermath. kirishima got embarrassed because he started crying and asked mr Aizawa to call his moms. like once the adrenaline crashed it #all sort of hit them. they had all been so brave but also they were kids and they really really wanted their parents now if that’s alright #they know they’re heroes now and they have to be brave but also can someone please call their mom. please please please they just want their #mom. it was sort of a punch in the face for the full heroes to get there and see just how young these kids were. like these weren’t they’re #colleagues. these were kids who they didn’t protect. it hurt.

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bananayuyu · 6 months ago

Text

Cabin Fever [part 1]

Pairing: Yunho x f reader

Genre: fluff and smut

Word count: 9.8k

Summary: A trip to the woods with your friends is always the highlight of your year. But sometimes, your body gets in the way of you being able to enjoy anything. Thankfully someone is there to comfort you, in just the way you need.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, fingering, reader is on her period while said fingering is occurring, reader has really severe period cramps

A/n: My period this last week was the worst one I've had in a while, and I kept thinking the whole time I wished Yunho was there to comfort me. This is for my fellow chronically ill besties <3 I hope everyone is taking good care. Also I'm thinking of making a part two, if not turning this into a whole series as I have so many ideas of where to take things. Let me know your thoughts!

You can read part 2 here!

Every year you and your high school friends visited your favorite cabin in the woods. It was cozy and old and probably too small for the seven of you; it was perfect for a summer get away. Each year you all saved up, and when the weather became too hot to bear in the city, you booked a week in the forest. The natural hot spring tub out back, the easy trails on the mountain behind, and the trees that occasionally graced you with their delicious fruit, made it your favorite place. Each and every summer you anticipated it with a giddiness that nothing else could make you feel.

***

You lived with two of your friends from high school, in a small two bedroom house not far from the neighborhood you grew up in. You and Seonghwa each had a bedroom, and Yunho's bedroom was the basement. You wouldn't have thought living with two men would lead to the clean and orderly house you resided in, but thankfully Seonghwa was as much of a clean freak as you. You lived meticulously, due to having many health issues that had been with you your whole life.

It started when you were little, with allergies developing what felt like every week. You had to be careful with what you ate, what you drank, what medication you took. Then there were the fainting spells, which started in high school. Eventually it was understood that your blood pressure was to blame, and your weak heart. And then there were your periods. Always horrible, no matter what you did. You had been put on every type of hormonal birth control at one point or another, and nothing worked. Finally you decided it wasn't worth it anymore, the hoards of drugs and doctor's appointments, and you decided to live a simple life instead, to take things easy, to not ever push too hard. To stop trying to force your body to be normal. You didn't really have a choice in the matter; your body broke down whenever it needed to, and school and work and your social life had to be pushed aside. It made these yearly trips to the woods all the more exciting. Sometimes it was the only time you got to see the group together all year.

This year as you, Seonghwa and Yunho prepared for your trip you realized one achingly frustrating thing. Your period was due to arrive on the fourth day of the trip, if it came on time. You sighed heavily when you realized this, dragging yourself up to grab pads, tampons for the hot spring, your massive bottle of Tylenol and your heating pad, and placing them in your suitcase. You just hoped it wouldn't be too bad, if it did come during the trip. Sometimes they could be late or early, and you hoped that maybe this time your body could make things easy on you, and delay it just a bit.

That night you fell asleep on the couch, accidentally staying up reading too late. As the morning light broke through the blinds you stirred, eyes squinting at the brightness. You groggily made your way towards the bathroom, barely seeing where you were going. You almost ran right into Yunho as he walked down the hall towards the kitchen, and he grabbed your shoulders to prevent you from crashing into each other.

"Good morning," he said, laughing at the state of you.

"I fell asleep on the couch," you groaned.

"Yeah I know, I saw. The book was that good?" he teased. You rolled your eyes. He didn't totally understand your obsession with reading.

"So good it almost felt like I was playing a video game, or something," you teased back.

This was the nature of your relationship with him. He was one of your closest friends by far, but you two were just so different. You worked part-time as the assistant of an accountant, and in your free time read books. He was a choreographer with a crazy schedule, and loved nothing more than gaming whenever he could. He was full of energy; you were prone to exhaustion and fainting. He needed his busy schedule, his stimulating life. You could barely handle leaving the house most of the time. But regardless of these differences your friendship blossomed. With Seonghwa it was sweeter; he was the sweetest person you'd ever met. He was usually the one who took care of you when you'd had a bad allergic reaction, or helped clean up your room when you were far too exhausted to. But Yunho had been there every time you'd had a bad fainting spell, carrying you to the hospital, staying with you overnight. He was always there for you, and made you laugh when you felt like shit. He was an invaluable part of your life, even if he didn't totally understand you.

"Ari texted the group chat late last night, did you see?" he asked you. Ari was the only other girl in the friend group, and you usually shared a room with her on your trips.

"No, what did she say?"

"She's bringing San," he said.

"Ooh, we finally get to meet him for real," you reply, lifting your eyebrows in excitement at finally meeting her new boyfriend. You'd seen pictures and talked to her about him for hours, and you couldn't wait to finally meet him in person.

"And Wooyoung is gonna bring his cousins, I think?"

"Yeah he said he's bringing Yeosang and Jongho with him this year," you reply, having just heard the news the day before while packing. "There's going to be so many of us this year, I'm not sure how we'll all sleep and everything."

"We'll figure it out when we get there," Yunho says reassuringly. Then he looks at you and chuckles. You narrow your eyes, knowing he's laughing at you. "Just go look at yourself in the mirror," he says.

You playfully shove him out of the way and make your way into the bathroom, seeing your ridiculously messy hair he was laughing at. You quickly get yourself ready for the day, knowing you all have to leave soon to pick up Ari and meet up with everyone else. When you make your way to the kitchen you see that Yunho has made you a cup of chamomile, your favorite tea. As you sip it you taste the honey he added and smile, smile at the way he seemed to read your mind. You were craving chamomile with honey today.

Seonghwa exits his room looking extremely put together in a black turtle neck and fitted black pants, his suitcase fully packed and his hair perfectly coiffed. You look down at your tank top and comfy jean shorts, and back up to him.

"You always make me look so underdressed," you say with a small pout.

"Well, you're so beautiful so you don't even have to try," he says, pulling you into a hug. A crazy thing for him to say to you, given that he's literally employed as a model. And quite successfully, at that. "Some of us have things to compensate for, clearly." He spins around, showing you his outfit and laughing at himself.

"It looks so good, but you are going to burn up in the car, Hwa," you reply.

"I'll be fine, I'll be fine," he laughs.

"He's got someone to impress, y/n, remember," Yunho interjects, handing Seonghwa the cup of coffee he made for him. Hongjoong is who he means. You giggle of the memory of them hooking up at the last summer trip, thinking they were being so sneaky when everyone knew exactly what was happening.

"How are you simultaneously so annoying and so nice," Seonghwa says to Yunho, making you all laugh.

"That's the perfect description of him," you say, shooting Yunho a smirk.

"How dare you both," Yunho replies as he makes his way down to the basement to grab his bag. He also stops by your room and grabs your suitcase, taking both down to the car and placing them in the trunk. You and Seonghwa follow after him, your tea in one hand and book in the other. You couldn't wait for a little time spent reading in the cabin.

"It's so funny how he always carries my stuff for me, like I'm some weak little thing," you say to Seonghwa.

"Well you kind of are, honey," Seonghwa says, looking at you softly. Your health issues had been flaring up again recently, and it broke his heart to see his close friend suffering so much.

"I know. It's annoying," you reply, looking away from him as you exit your house. "I just hope nothing happens while we're on the trip."

"We'll all take care of you if anything does," he says, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to comfort you.

"Thank you," you reply as you climbed into the back seat. You make eye contact with Yunho through the rear view mirror, his look attentive and curious.

"Ready?" he asks you, and you nod, holding his gaze. Since living with him, and really even since high school, he had driven you basically everywhere. You couldn't help but love it.

***

After meeting up with everyone at Ari's apartment you split into your two cars. You, Yunho, Seonghwa, Ari and her boyfriend San would be in Yunho's car. And Wooyoung, Hongjoong, Mingi, Yeosang and Jongho would be in Wooyoung's. You weren't sure how having ten people in the cabin would go, but you decided not to worry. This time of year was not for dread or anxiety; it was for joy and laughter.

After spending time on the drive talking to Ari and San, you realized he was just as handsome and kind as she told you. You squeezed her arm in excitement, elated that your friend had such a wonderful new boyfriend. Yunho and Seonghwa had expressed concern when they first started dating, given that Ari's last relationship wasn't healthy. But even they seemed swayed by just a few hours with San, with his sweet smile and warm conversation. You all arrived in the highest spirits, you and Ari ditching the car to let the boys carry your things while you excitedly ran to the backyard to dip your toes in the hot spring.

"God, I'm so excited we're back," she said, grabbing your hand. "And I'm excited you're meeting San. What do you think, so far?"

"He seems wonderful. Are you happy, is he always this kind?" You look at her fondly, wanting nothing more than for her to finally experience a healthy love.

"I'm so happy dude. It's just been so smooth, so calm. It's built the way I think these things are supposed to, you know? No rushing, no fighting and making up and fighting again. None of that awful shit that I used to look for. I feel like I'm finally an adult. I guess 25 is my 18," she laughs.

"Girl I'm 25 and barely even independent from my parents. You don't need to feel bad about what's come before." You squeeze her hand, a silent message of love passing between you. "I'm so, so happy for you."

As you make your way inside Yunho calls you over to him.

"Hey, we were just discussing sleeping arrangements. We were thinking Ari and San can have the room with the actual queen bed, and the rest of us boys can sleep in the living room on the couches. There's that little bed nook in the library, would you be okay sleeping there? I know you and Ari usually shared the real bed but I figure her and San would want to sleep in the same room together," he says.

"Oh, of course. But, are all of you going to fit out here with Yeosang and Jongho along?" you ask.

"Well, I'm not sure. We'll see."

"Isn't there a pull out couch in the library?" you ask. It's no surprise you know the small room better than him.

"There is?" he asks.

"Come, let's go see." He follows you through the cabin to your favorite room, seeing the small blue couch in the corner.

"I swear this thing extends or something," you say, crouching down to try to find where to push. Eventually it gives and starts moving, surprising Yunho. When it's finally extended it takes up a lot of the room, and looks almost goofy. But it's reasonably long, definitely somewhere someone else could sleep. You look up at Yunho, assessing how tall he is and how long the bed is. "Think you could fit?" you ask.

Yunho lays himself down, his legs hanging only slightly off the end of the new bed. You go and grab a pillow from your bed nook, tucking it underneath his head.

"Well it can fit one person, for sure. I doubt any more though, unless any of the boys want to be cuddled up that close," he says.

"Seonghwa and Hongjoong?" you offer. Yunho laughs.

"You want them in here doing stuff at night right next to you?" he asks. You cringe at his suggestion.

"They wouldn't do that to me," you say, shaking you head at him.

"You never know," he says, starting to make his way out of the room. "If you really just want the room to yourself, that's okay."

"No it's totally fine. You can sleep in here, if you want to. Or Seonghwa. I'd be okay with either of you. Just let me know."

Yunho nods as you both exit, heading back to the kitchen where everyone is getting ready to make dinner. Wooyoung has nine assistants today, far more than he really needs. But it's fun, bustling around the kitchen with everyone as you prepare a big feast to celebrate the start of the vacation. Soon you see Yunho carrying your bag to the library and soon after, his own bag. And you feel something in you become warm, something low in your gut.

"What are you thinking about?" Ari asks you, seeing the distant look in your eyes.

"Huh?" you say as you turn to her, genuinely surprised.

"You looked like you were daydreaming or something."

"Oh no, just spacing out, sorry," you chuckle, not sure what had just come over you.

"Well look what I got you," she says, holding up a giant bag of your favorite cheesy crackers.

"So I guess you can read my mind or something?" you joke, grabbing the bag and her in a big hug. "Wait, wait right here. I have something for you too."

You run over to the library to grab the bracelet you made Ari last month. You still hadn't had a chance to give it to her and you couldn't wait. As you enter you see Yunho slowly unpacking his bag, setting his phone and charger on the small end table by the blue couch. You rifle through your own bag to find the small box you had packed for Ari, yourself unpacking a few things in the process. In the silence of the moment you begin to feel warm again; you look over at Yunho and soak in his messy hair, his loose clothing that makes him look so soft and comfy. You stare unabashedly, unsure of what's come over you. Usually you hate starting, hate eye contact.

"What?" is all he says, but you feel like there might be something more he wants to ask.

"So you're staying in here?"

"Yeah, Hwa wants to stay with Hongjoong out there. I figured you would rather it just be one person in here with you, more comfortable for you."

You smile and reach your arms out to him, still sat on the floor. He gives you a quizzical look, unsure what your gesture means.

"Come, give me a hug," you say. "You've been so thoughtful today."

In the short moments of your hug a silence hangs around the two of you. Yunho had never been one for serious sincerity. He definitely never knew what to say when you said things like this. When he stayed with you in the hospital and you cried in his arms, thanking him endlessly for being there with you. When your allergic reactions left you weak and groggy and you wouldn't stop telling him how much you loved him, and how much you worried he'd abandon you for being so needy and sick. You said the same to Seonghwa too, but Yunho could understand that better. It made more sense to him. When you said it to him it made his brain stop in a way that he still hadn't figured out.

***

The evening was off to a perfect start. Ari loved her bracelet, the project you had been promising to make her for months now, and everyone else loved it too. Everyone showered you with compliments and showered Wooyoung with them too, after tasting the delicious meal he had whipped up. You all gathered in the living room to eat, spreading out over the large L-shaped couches and the floor. A favorite cheesy movie was watched, a bottle of wine opened. Everyone laughed and relaxed, helping to clean up in the kitchen after the movie was over. And then to the hot spring you all went, as was tradition. You always started and ended the holiday with a group soak; attendance was mandatory.

In the heat and steam of the tub everyone opened up, even the most quiet among you. There was something about the nature of the tub that made everyone vulnerable, and for you it had always been one of the best parts of these trips. Everyone was cuddled up together given the size of the tub, and the proximity seemed to fuel the spilling of secrets. This year especially, with all ten of you, everyone was shoulder to shoulder. Ari sat on San's lap to try to save on space, and as everyone began piling in you ended up squeezed between Seonghwa and Yunho. The crowdedness felt like too much for you, and before he could make an objection, you decided to sit on Yunho's lap.

"There's not enough room in here," you said quietly to him when you felt his surprise.

"Yeah I know," he replied, letting you wrap his arms around you. You sensed some tension and hesitation in him, though.

"Should I move?" you asked, turning around to face him.

"No, no, you're fine. How else will we fit everyone?" he replied.

You turned around satisfied but then caught a smile on Mingi's face, one that seemed to be in reaction to you and Yunho. You shot him a confused look and he glanced away, clearly feeling caught in his reaction. And then you turned and saw Wooyoung eyeing you, too.

"What?" you said to him, turning your head and looking at him sideways.

"Nothing, nothing." But then his characteristic smirk formed on his lips; he had lost the fight in trying to delay it. You knew exactly what this meant.

"Oh god, don't tell me you have some huge piece of gossip to share with all of us," you said, sighing. It was always Wooyoung who started out with something, anything dramatic to share. He always broke the ice, and really, you appreciated it. Even if you made fun of him for being so obsessed with gossiping.

"Well, no, not really," he replied, looking almost shy. It didn't seem very characteristic of him. He took a deep breath and swallowed, and you all held your breath as you awaited his story.

"He has a crush," Mingi broke in, clearly not wanting to wait any longer. "It's this woman who choreographed for that music video we worked on a couple of weeks ago." Mingi and Wooyoung were backup dancers, and often worked on projects together.

"It's not just a crush, we're like kind of dating now," Wooyoung added, clearly shocking Mingi with this new information.

"Are you serious?" Mingi replied, and Wooyoung nodded his head. "Guys she's gorgeous. And so intense and smart. And isn't she like 40?"

"She's 37 Mingi, god," Woo replied, giggling and looking very pleased with himself. It had been a long time since he'd even been interested in dating, and everyone in the tub was looking surprised and amused. "We actually.... we hooked up on set one day."

"Wooyoung! Bad idea!" you replied, shocked he would even share this information. But then again, you were in the hot spring tub. And plenty of wine had been consumed.

"How did you even manage that?" Mingi laughed.

"In a trailer, you know.." Wooyoung trailed off, clearly embarrassed and nervous to tell the story. But just as always it had achieved the affect it needed to, and soon everyone was spilling their secrets, updating everyone on every funny thing that had happened in the past year. You continued to sip your wine, drinking slowly given how much of a lightweight you were. You hadn't finished your first glass still, even through the movie and dinner. Yunho kept making you drink water too, nervous that you'd become dehydrated and get sick. As the night wore on you relaxed more into his lap, more into his arms. You held his hands on your lower stomach, over that place that felt so warm earlier when you looked at him. Finally, when everyone decided to call it a night, he wrapped a towel around you both and led you through the dark path back to the house. In your tipsy state you kept repeating "shower, shower" so he led you there, running to grab your phone when you demanded it. As you stripped out of your swimsuit and took a look at yourself in the mirror you saw that happy girl you always saw here, surrounded by her favorite people and completely content. The shower was quick but felt delicious, and as you exited you felt blissful and relaxed. Until you realized you'd forgotten to bring a towel with you.

There were only two bathrooms in the cabin, one connected to the actual master bedroom with the actual queen bed, and one for everyone else to share. You couldn't walk through the house naked and dripping with so many people here, especially Wooyoung's cousins who you didn't know well. Thankfully your phone was still there on the counter where Yunho had left it, so you called him.

"Can you bring me a towel?" you asked when he answered. And then quickly, "and some clothes too, please."

"Anything else, your highness?" Yunho teased you.

"Shut up, I'm cold," you whined.

"What clothes do you want?" he asked.

"Just, those black shorts and one of my t-shirts, I don't care which. Just something comfy for sleeping in."

"No underwear?" he asked.

"Yes no underwear, I'm about to go to bed. I usually sleep naked but I have to wear clothes when we're here." You swore his breath hitched a bit.

"Be there in a moment," he replied before ending the call. In a moment he was there, knocking on the door. You opened it slowly, and saw him holding his arm out to you while dramatically facing his head the other way.

"You don't have to be so damn weird, I know you've seen plenty of naked humans in your life," you said, laughing at him.

"You make me sound like a slut," he replied.

"Maybe you are, how am I to know."

"I can't believe you of all people are calling me a slut."

"What the hell does that mean?" you ask, eyes wide.

"I know those little romance books you read are full of smut," he challenges you.

"I'm literally reading a book about history right now, thank you very much," you respond.

"Yeah the history of changing attitudes about sex. Even your non-fiction reads are horny."

You stand still for a moment, mouth agape. You didn't realize Yunho payed that much attention to the books you were reading. To know what he just said about your current book, he would have had to at least read the synopsis on the inside cover, if not a bit of the introductory chapter. You feel a little weird that he'd sneakily been perusing your book when you hadn't been looking, probably this morning while you were asleep on the couch, you guessed. But something about it felt really nice too. Like he cared to know you, cared to know about the things you liked. Even if they were so different from what he usually was into.

"Are you two good?" Seonghwa asked as he meandered down the hall, hearing the slight intensity in your tone during your conversation with Yunho. At the sound of his voice you both snapped out of it, and at seeing you naked he turned around with a quick, 'oh, sorry,' before heading back to the living room.

You dried off and dressed quickly, realizing you spent several moments naked in front of Yunho while you argued. It wasn't really an argument, more a discussion maybe? Or a confession? He admitted to knowing what kind of books you liked to read, and you hadn't denied it. None of it had to mean anything, you implored yourself. As you had said, he'd seen plenty of other people naked before. Well, at least several. It's just the trip, the glass of wine consuming your brain and making you fuzzy. But it felt like things had shifted that day.

***

As you and Yunho settled into bed you began chatting, and before you knew it, it was the early hours of the morning, the time you rarely stayed up to, the time when the world felt like a completely different place to you.

"I've missed you," you said, sighing into the comfort of the blankets and pillows beneath you.

"Me too," Yunho replied, quickly. Like the response was almost involuntary. You opened your eyes to look at him, as his words weren't what you were expecting.

"I'm sorry I've been so busy. I miss hanging out with you, just the two of us," he continued. "You're one of my favorite people on planet earth, you know that right?" It was completely out of character for him. Like the years of sincerity he'd kept inside had been begging to be let free and he finally obliged. You sat up and walked to the couch he laid on, mere steps from your bed. You leaned down next to him and hugged him, too tired to give a verbal response. You sighed and nuzzled your face into his shoulder, relaxing on top of him completely.

"Are you still tipsy?" he asked.

"No, why?" you asked. You were too tired to move your head.

"You're only this touchy when you're drunk usually."

"I don't really ever get drunk though."

"I know, I mean, this is how you used to get when you would get drunk. Like in high school, when we'd drink."

"Oh. Sorry?" you asked. You didn't really understand why he was telling you this.

"No, I like it. I was just, trying to joke around," he sighed. "Wasn't the right moment probably. Wasn't funny."

You fell into a silence again, briefly.

"So it's fine, right? I can hug you?" you asked.

"Yes, of course." To prove his point he wrapped his arms around you more tightly, one hand coming to rest on the back of your neck. "You seem happy right now, today."

"I am, these trips always make me happy," you reply.

"Your happiness means a lot to me." He seemed almost nervous to say it, like he had to work himself up to it.

"Why are you being so sappy today?" you laugh, nuzzling farther into him. He glanced at the clock on the wall, looking for an excuse.

"It's 2am, I don't know."

"Shit, it's that late? I should really get some sleep." You knew the plan for tomorrow was hiking up to the water fall, and though the hike was neither long nor strenuous, you still wanted to be well rested. "Goodnight," you said as you dragged yourself up, planting a quick peck on his cheek before crawling into your bed. Sleep enveloped you quickly, given the relaxing nature of the day and the late hour. Yunho turned himself over, trying to get comfortable on the small pull out couch. You didn't see the bright pink of his cheeks, or the rapid rise and fall of his chest. You had no idea you had any affect on him. A life of sickness had left you mostly uninterested in pursuing romantic affections, and you'd truly never dreamed of a long term romantic partnership with anyone. Yunho knew this, well. But he couldn't stop his feelings, no matter how hard he tried to.

***

In the morning you were woken by a bright, hot stream of sun that shined through the window, that late morning sunshine that is surprisingly warm on clear-skied days like today. With a groan you cracked open your eyes to see that Yunho had already awoken and left, the room silent. Your head felt groggy and your stomach ached a bit, and you instantly scolded yourself for drinking your first night and staying up so late. Sure, it had been fun in the moment, but you couldn't afford to make yourself feel poorly on such a special trip. You hoisted yourself up, taking a swig from your nearly empty water bottle that Yunho must have put on the side of your bed. You certainly didn't remember putting it there.

When you finally pushed yourself up to stand you felt something wet on your bed. You turned around expecting to find some spilt water, but were instead greeted with a disappointing and frustrating sight. A small streak of blood ran across the beautiful, light blue sheets. As you felt around your shorts you found a spot there too, wet and cold against your fingers. You let out a frustrated sigh, running yourself to the bathroom with a new change of underwear and shorts and a pad in hand. You desperately rinsed your shorts in the sink, your mind beginning to spin and spin. What were you going to do about the bedsheets?

As you came back into your small room you didn't notice Yunho, your focus entirely on where you could hang your shorts to dry. When he spoke you jumped back in complete shock, nearly falling over.

"You okay?" he asked, lurching forward to try to prevent you from falling. You thankfully caught yourself in time, but then your eyes wandered to your bed and you knew he'd seen.

"I don't know what I'm gonna fucking do," you started, tears forming your eyes from the embarrassment. It wasn't getting your period that made you feel so weird, it was the fact that you'd stained the nice bedsheets at the nice cabin you and your friends were renting, and it was only the second day.

"Well, what do you need? I'm sure we can get that stain out of the sheets," Yunho offered, hoping it would make you feel better.

"We? They have my blood on them," you responding, trembling. Why were you so worked up, what the hell had gotten into you? Your own anxiety at the situation shocked you and Yunho both.

"It's just blood, y/n. And it's like barely anything." Yunho grabbed your upper arms to steady you, worried your trembling would land you in a heap on the floor. And then suddenly, a horrible cramp stabbed its way through your abdomen. You immediately groaned and grabbed your side, leaning against one of the bookshelves to support yourself.

"Fuck, I need my Tylenol," you breathed out, trying to calm yourself. It felt like your entire body was collapsing on you in an instant. And your period had only just started early this morning, maybe only a few hours ago from the looks of it.

Yunho grabbed two Tylenol and and opened your water bottle, offering you both one after the other. He had seen Seonghwa do this many times and he hoped he was doing it right. You quickly swallowed the pills and took a deep breath, worried you wouldn't be able to join everyone for the hike that day. A tear slipped down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away, wanting to push down your feelings of discomfort.

"I just need to wait until this kicks in and I'll be okay," you said, hoping it sounded convincing. Hoping it was true.

"Let me clean your sheet, then," Yunho said, leading you down to lay on the pull out couch.

"Do you even know how to clean out blood?" you asked, shoving your face into his pillow. It smelled so good and suddenly you felt warm again, this time through your whole body.

"I was gonna ask Ari about it," he said. "If it's okay for me to tell her."

"Ask Hwa for help too, he knows," you replied. With a sigh you wrapped yourself tightly in his blanket, hiding your face. Everything that had happened this morning was so frustrating, and you couldn't stop feeling angry at your body for always ruining your plans.

Remarkably, twenty minutes later you did feel a lot better. No more severe jabs of pain had come, and once you got some food in you and washed your face, you felt ready for the day. Everyone packed their bathing suits for the falls and put on their good shoes for hiking, and with snacks and waters in hand you made your way up to the edge of the forest to find the start of the trail.

You walked arm in arm with Ari, picking flowers off the side of the path to put in each other's hair. The blossoms in this area were beautiful during this time of year, and the trees made the trail quiet and calm and cool. When you ran out of space in Ari's hair you started putting the flowers in Seonghwa and Hongjoong's too, the only other two who walked the trail as slowly as you and Ari did. Even with the slow pace you began to feel queasy about half way up, and when you sat down, unable to take it anymore, Seonghwa called out to Yunho. He came and crouched down in front of you, telling you to climb onto his back, and carried you the rest of the way, the gentle breeze blowing his hair into your face and tickling your nose. It was a bit longer now than it had been in a while, looking almost like a shaggy mullet. As it brushed across your face you realized you thought it looked really good on him, how it complimented his long neck and round cheeks. You shook your head trying to stir yourself out of your daydream. You had always recognized he was attractive, but you didn't like him like that, never had. Why did you care how well his hairstyle complimented his face?

At the falls you sat on a long log at the edge of the small lake, not feeling up to swimming and playing with everyone else. Seonghwa could sense it easily, and after Yunho asked for his help that morning cleaning your sheets he knew why. He sat with you, not bothering to put on his suit either. He had wanted to talk to you anyway, wanted to spend a moment alone. These trips were always fun but it was hard to get one on one time with anyone.

"You okay?" he asked as you watched the others playing in the water, Yunho and Mingi wrestling each other for an inflatable ball. It seemed like they were all playing some sort of water polo from the looks of things.

"Yeah, yeah. Just my period. How are you?" you asked turning to him, seeing the conflict behind his eyes.

"I'm... I'm fucking spiraling, girl." He shook his head and dropped it onto your shoulder, letting out a massive sigh.

"Why, cause of that guy?" you asked, looking in the direction of Hongjoong. Seonghwa just nodded. In the brilliance of the mid day sun Hongjoong looked like he was shining, his tattoos standing out starkly against his pale skin. The ball was in his hand and San lunged for him, and he threw it up just in time as they crashed into each other, a laughing mess. As the two came up for air San was repeatedly apologizing, the both of them being yelled at by the other players to get back in the game. After some more moments of play Hongjoong grabbed onto a rock on the side of the small lake underneath the waterfall, pulling himself up to grab a bottle of water a few feet away. As he pulled himself up you saw the ripple of his chest and abdomen.

"Damn, he's like really ripped," you said, smiling down at Seonghwa.

"Don't say shit like that to me," he groaned into your shoulder. "You're just making this worse."

"What's wrong? Why are you spiraling?" you asked him.

"Dude, I like him a lot. Like a lot a lot." Seonghwa's hand came up to his face, a small whimper escaping his lips. You knew he was on the verge of crying.

"Come here," you said, turning towards him to give him a proper hug. "Everything's gonna be okay."

"Not if he doesn't like me back," Seonghwa replied.

"He obviously likes you back, what do you mean?"

"I'm just, I just- I don't know what's going to happen. When we all go back to the city. When we're here we're all over each other but then real life comes and I barely see him. I thought I was over it. But clearly not." Soft tears fall from his eyes, down his cheeks and onto the dirt of the forest floor.

"Oh, honey. I'm so sorry," you replied, rubbing your hand up and down his back to comfort him. "You've got to talk to him about it."

"I know, I know, I just." He sighed. "I know I need to, and it's gonna be awkward as hell but I just need to."

"You can do it, I know you can," you said, squeezing him tightly. "Crushes are the fucking worst, aren't they?"

Seonghwa laughed as you separated, wiping the final tears from his cheeks and sighing more freely. He knew you'd always be there for him, no matter what happened. You didn't need to say it now. And you'd already discussed how it might be awkward for the group if they dated and then broke up. Last year, after your last cabin trip, it was discussed. Even with Yunho. You all agreed that Hwa should do what he wanted, and not worry about everyone else in the group. You were all adults now, and he didn't need to torture himself just to save everyone else's feelings. But it seemed he had tortured himself this last year, anyway. You had thought he maybe was over Hongjoong, that it was just a little fling at the cabin that year. But now you saw that wasn't true.

***

Back at the cabin Wooyoung made another delicious meal, and everyone gathered around the table in the living room for some charades. You took more Tylenol with dinner, your cramps having returned in full force once you made it back to your home base. All through dinner and games you tried to put on a smile, tried to get distracted in the fun. But it wasn't working. As soon as you finished your food you excused yourself, cleaned your dishes and then made your way to your room. You changed your pad for what felt like the fourth time that hour, then plugged your heating pad into the wall as you readied your bed. It was maybe only seven or eight in the evening, but you couldn't take it any longer. And your trusty Tylenol didn't seem to be working well tonight.

After some time resting in bed you heard the door open. Turning your head you saw Yunho walking in with a steaming cup of tea, gingerly handing it over to you to grab.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. The gentle light from the lamp in the corner made his eyes look soft and shiny. He looked down at you with concern, his eyes locked on yours.

"I'm okay," you managed, trying hard not to wince obviously at the pain that had just seared through you.

"I thought, some tea might help. I don't know," he said, his cheeks and ears going every so slightly crimson.

"It does, it's very soothing. Thank you, Yuyu," you said, his favorite nickname rolling off your tongue. Another streak of pain runs through you and you can't stop your face from scrunching up in pain, making Yunho's heart sink.

"What can we do, what makes it better?" he asked.

"There's not much, really, other than what I've done. I took my Tylenol, I've been drinking water, my heating pad, this tea..." You trailed off, smiling for a second at the only other method you know to help alleviate the cramps a bit.

"What, is there something else?" Yunho asked.

"No, well, not really. Basically, at home sometimes if my cramps are really bad it actually helps to like, you know, masturbate. Like it doesn't even necessarily feel super sexual, it just seems to help the muscles down there like relax, when they're all tight and like spasming and stuff." You quickly took a sip of your tea, suddenly noticing your heart rate had sky rocketed. "Obviously I can't do that here, so like it's not an option right now but, yeah, that just, uh, came to my mind."

"You can do that here, if it would help," Yunho replied, fascinated by your rambling. You really didn't get that way often, and he thought it was funny that this was the topic that made you this way.

"No, stop. Plus, I don't even have my tools or anything," you blurted out, suddenly wishing you hadn't.

"Tools?" he asked.

"You know, like, vibrator, dildo, et cetera," you replied, looking at him mildly mortified.

"Ah, I see," he replied with a simple nod of his head. "You don't have to be so nervous talking to me about this. I literally saw you naked last night. Plus, I swear I've heard you and Hwa talking about this kind of stuff a lot?"

Your body fluttered at his admission that he looked at your naked body, and suddenly you felt flushed and flustered. "It's different with him," you said, not meaning to sound so pissed.

"Why, cause he's gay and I'm not?" Yunho asked. He really was genuinely curious.

"Yeah, I guess, I don't know. Yunho, I can't do this right now. I feel like shit." Tears welled in your eyes at all of the conflicting feelings you were having, and you just wanted everything to stop.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," he replied, his tone softer. He came over to stroke his hand through your hair, hoping it would distract you from your pain. "I just want to make you feel better."

"There's not really much to do, I just have to bear it. First day is always the worst. Go, have fun with everyone. I don't want this to ruin your evening along with mine."

With a final stroke of your hair Yunho stood, and repeating your action from the night before, leaned down and planted a kiss on your cheek.

"Feel better," he said. This time he saw the color come to your cheeks, and your shy smile as your turned your head away from him.

***

When he reentered your room it was dark, only the light from the moon illuminating the floor. Your heating pad was on the floor, and as he walked towards you it looked like you were asleep; your eyes were closed, breaths were steady and you were curled up on your side with your blanket tucked high into your neck.

He settled down himself, trying his best to be silent. The pull out couch wasn't the most comfortable place to sleep, if he was honest. But he really liked sleeping with you in here, and he was thankful you had let him. He had wanted to ask you straight away, when you showed him the pull out couch. But he treaded lightly, not wanting to push anything.

After a few moments spent responding to texts he finally settled into bed, curling up himself. He heard you shifting around slightly but figured you were just dreaming. Same with the changes in breath he swore he heard. He pleaded with himself to stop worrying and just let you be. But then, he heard a sniffle. Then another. And finally a small whimper, unmistakeable.

"Y/n, you're awake aren't you?" he asked, his voice low. All you could do was let out a groan in response. On instinct Yunho's body shot up, and within a second he was at the side of your bed peering down at you. "Hey, look at me."

You turned over slowly, the pain of your abdomen making it hard for you to move. You looked up at him and he caught a glimpse of your tear stained cheek, your blood shoot eyes and your puffy face. You had been crying, silently, for a while.

"Why did you turn off your heating pad?" he asked you.

"I need to sleep," you squeaked out, sniffling.

"But you're in pain," he said, resting his hand on your cheek. "Can I turn it back on for you?" You nod your head, feeling exasperated and desperate for relief.

"Are you sure there's nothing else that would help? What if I rubbed your back?" Yunho asked, as desperate for your pain to end as you were.

"That might help," you manage, closing your eyes and trying to take in the relief of your heating pad being back on.

Yunho crawls behind you on the bed, and slowly starts massaging you back, focusing his movements on your low back and side that you always seemed to grab onto. His hands feel searingly hot on your body, even with your thin shirt in between, and you begin to tremble uncontrollably.

"Sorry, I'm so cold," you tell him. "And I didn't bring anything warm to wear cause I'm stupid and assumed it would be hot out here."

"Hey, hey, stop that. You are not stupid," he replies. You feel him pull away for a second. "Here, sit up," he says as he reaches his arms out to help you. Before you know it you're being enveloped in the feeling of his hoodie that he just took off; it's warm and smells sweet. He settles back behind you, hands under the hoodie but still over your shirt as he continues to massage you gently. He can feel how tight the muscles in your back and side are, and he can't imagine how awful everything feels inside.

With his hoodie on and his hands on your back you feel like you're surrounded by him, and you aren't ready for the way it makes you feel. You're still groggy but you feel more grounded, and your body feels tingly and alive. It makes the pain almost more present, but it also makes everything else so clear, like the way his strong hands move along your side and the way the hoodie smells better than anything. Your body aches, even your legs, but it's your throbbing pussy that catches you off guard, the way his smell makes you want to open up and be taken.

All at once you realize the dilemma you are in. Being horny on your period wasn't exactly out of the ordinary, but now you were in a bed, horny on your period with a beautiful man, one who clearly loves you and wants nothing more than to make you feel better. You sigh, putting a hand on his to stop his movements, and you roll over to face him. His perfect face is inches from yours and you can't bear it, instead moving yourself down to bury your face in his chest. Your legs intertwine as you grab onto him, the two of you cuddling closer than you have in a very long time. He reaches his arm around you to keep rubbing your back, nuzzling his face into your hair. He's never told you, but he loves the smell of your hair so much. You use an unscented shampoo, due to your sensitivities. So he knows it's just your smell. And fuck it makes him feel creepy, but he's thankful every time you hug him and he gets a moment to take in that smell. Now, as always, he's fighting with himself to not get hard.

Your sighs become deeper as he continues to rub, and he reaches his hand under your shirt, testing the waters. You sigh blissfully at the skin to skin contact, his hand making your skin feel alive. As he keeps rubbing your head falls back, your body going nearly slack at how good it feels. You don't even realize for a moment but you've started moving your hips, rubbing yourself up and down his thigh that sits in between your legs. Your breath deepens and Yunho can't believe what he's seeing, his head swimming with desire as he watches your face, hears your soft sounds. A surge of pride washes through him at seeing how good you are feeling. "Baby," the word slips out of his mouth and you open your eyes, met with his large pupils and full pink lips.

"Kiss me," you whisper, opening your lips to let him in. He doesn't hesitate a moment, and suddenly your met with plush softness and his warm tongue as it brushes ever so slightly across yours. The feeling is intoxicating, igniting something in you that you hadn't felt in a long time. Your buck your hips against his leg harder, almost painfully, but it feels necessary. Your pussy is throbbing harder now, harder than you thought was really possible for you. You deepen the kiss, opening your mouth wider and sliding your tongue over his, moaning at the way it makes your clit feel. You need more, need something inside you soothing the aching muscles of your cunt, but you don't want to break the perfection of the kiss. You break away for a second, whimpering and throwing your head back in pained bliss. When your lips make contact again your hands are under his shirt and grabbing onto him, desperation dictating your every move.

"Please, can I touch you? Can I make you feel better?" he's asking, and his voice feels so good in your ear it's almost like you're on another planet.

"I'm bloody," you cry softly, the reality of the situation still not entirely escaping you.

"You really think I care about that?" he asks you, his hand coming up to brush along your cheek. You look at him with pleading eyes, wanting nothing more than to let him take care of you. Another wave of pain strikes through you and you whimper, grabbing your side again. Yunho brushes over it, kissing you gently on the cheek. More tears form in your eyes, the pain not subsiding this time. You begin to cry, your body shaking as you do. You don't know what else to do.

"Please help me," you plead out, still shaking.

"Where do you want me to touch you?" he asks, moving his hand down, now rubbing over your hip and upper thigh. The closer his hand gets to your core the more needy you feel, and you whine and buck your hips into him instead of responding.

"Baby please use your words, I don't want to hurt you," Yunho begs you, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Inside, please. But be gentle, the muscles are so tight," you say with a pout, making Yunho's head spin.

"Wait a sec," he says, moving off your bed to grab a towel from his bag. He places it down next to you and then begins removing your shorts and panties, one at a time. He's slow and steady in his movements, which makes it feel all the more intimate. Once they are off he gently moves you onto the towel and then slowly spreads your legs, massaging your thighs as the muscles there are tight as well. Your short frame dwarfed in his hoodie is maybe the cutest thing he's ever seen, and the look of desperation on your face is maybe the hottest.

"Are you ready?" he asks, his voice low and his hands oh so close to where you need them. You nod, spreading your legs even more in an invitation. Slowly he makes his way up, gently brushing his hand over your exposed lips, hoping not to shock you with the contact. Once you've settled into his touch he finally starts circling your entrance, making you mewl in anticipation. He sinks one finger in and immediately you groan in relief, already feeling so full. He can't believe how tight you are, can't believe that only one finger can fit. He begins moving slowly, as gently as he can, stroking up and down and finding that spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back. Your body immediately starts feeling better, the muscles in your core finally having something to squeeze onto. Your pussy feels warm and perfect and he desperately wants to see you come undone, on his fingers, on his cock. As you relax into his touch he feels your walls finally open up a bit, and slowly he pulls back, this time pushing two fingers in.

The wave of pleasure is instant, filling your low belly with sparkly warmth. You begin to rock yourself onto his fingers too, desperate for a bit more. He starts moving with a bit more force, still holding back and scared to hurt you. It's just the right amount of speed and pressure and you find your mind drifting, everything around you feeling warm and tingly and soft. You don't pay attention to your sounds; you don't care. Finally after your terrible day of pain he's taking care of you, and you just relax and let your body take control. Your high is building, oh so slowly. You can feel it in your legs all the way to your toes, the sparklers dancing down your body. Yunho's own breathing deepens as you start to moan, his body reacting to your sounds of pleasure. He needs desperately to make you come, to make you feel good. But he can feel your body resisting, ever so slightly.

"Baby, relax, relax if you can," he coos down at you, stroking his free hand over your thigh muscles that still feel tight. "Just focus on what feels good."

Your mind goes to his long fingers, to how deep they are inside you, how perfect they feel. The pressure in the perfect spots, making your entire body loose and happy. Suddenly he moves his free hand up, his thumb stroking gently over your clit. You moan loudly, all of your muscles finally releasing, and suddenly the feeling builds out of nowhere, from your fingertips and your toes and the top of your head, surging towards your center. You come, gently at first and then harder as Yunho continued to stroke you, intense pleasure rolling over you. It takes a long time for you to fully ride it out, your whole body processing what just happened. Finally your head feels clear and settled, your body no longer achey.

In the moonlight Yunho cleans you up, kissing you and whispering, 'I'll be right back.' After cleaning his hand and helping you back into your panties and shorts, he wraps himself around you, kissing your cheek and your exposed neck and relishing the relaxed state of your body. You are out before you know it, his warmth sedating.

***

A light storm rolled over the mountain in the night, covering the sky in gentle clouds. Without the brightness of the sun to wake you, you and Yunho both slept in, your bodies wanting nothing other than rest and each other's company. In the later hours of the morning Seonghwa became concerned, worried that you weren't doing well. When you left dinner early the night before he worried too, but when Yunho checked on you and returned assuring him that you were fine, he had let it go. He never wanted you to feel bothered, like he was keeping too close of an eye on you. You were your own person and capable of asking for what you needed. He knew that.

But when the time reached 11am he couldn't stop himself. It was just weird, given how early you had gone to bed, and the fact that you were normally an early riser. Gently he opened the door to the library, feeling mildly awkward. He wasn't sure what he would be greeted with, thought he did have a few ideas. He shook his head trying to brush his suspicions away. He knew if they were really true, you both would have told him.

"Y/n," he called from the open door, not seeing Yunho on the couch. Your body was hidden by the nook in the wall you slept in, forcing him to walk more into the room. You groaned at the sound, coming up from such a deep state of sleep. You didn't realize where you were, didn't realize Yunho was still cuddling you. As you went to stretch you accidentally hit him, waking him up with a jolt.

"Fuck, sorry," you said in a groggy voice, laughing. He instantly wrapped around you tightly, his mind not totally awake. As he squeezed you tight you let out a squeak, not expecting it. Neither of you realized Seonghwa was right there.

"So I'm guessing you're both okay?" Seonghwa said, and your brain finally registered it. You looked up at him in shock, feeling suddenly exposed. You nodded, trying not to be awkward. What did it matter really, that Yunho was sleeping in the same bed as you?

"I'm feeling better," you replied. "Got a lot of sleep."

"Sure," Seonghwa chuckled, looking between the two of you.

"Hwa! Go away!" you retorted, playfully rolling your eyes at him. Yunho remained uncharacteristically quiet behind you, but his arms didn't leave you for a second.

"Okay I will. Just glad you're alive," he chuckled again, making his way out of the room.

You shoved your face in your pillow, pushing yourself back further into Yunho's embrace.

You definitely had some explaining to do.

#ateez x reader #ateez yunho #yunho smut #yunho x reader #ateez smut

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darlingdaisyfarm · 2 months ago

Text

✧・₊˚ 🕯️christmas with the gravity falls characters 🎄₊˚ ・✧

𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏 𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔, 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

a/n: i know, i know, Stan and Ford are jewish, but still, i wanted to make this little gift for you all with your favourite characters

・₊˚ ❄️ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

definitely loves watching the same old black-and-white holiday movies, cackling like he’s never seen them before. you spend the day with him in the mystery shack, surrounded by all the tacky decorations he somehow managed to find for fifty cents or less, because of course he’d never spend actual money on something frivolous like a real christmas tree. nah, you get the plastic one he found at a garage sale, still missing half its branches but looking perfect in his eyes. and then he winks at you, smiling awkwardly, as if you didn’t just catch him trying to use duct tape to stick a piece of tinsel back on.

he’d totally try to sell you the idea of the “mystery shack christmas deluxe experience” where you roast hot dogs instead of chestnuts and every gift is “mystery-themed” (read: stuff he didn’t sell during summer tourist season). but then, once he realizes you're not buying into the grift, he’ll sit with you on the couch in his beat-up old slippers, placing an arm around your shoulder while you both share a bottle of wine, Stan keeps glancing at you during such quiet moments, because he’s simply not sure how he got so lucky to have you around for a holiday he didn’t even care about before you showed up in his life.

𓂃⋆.˚ his gifts come straight from the heart. something handmade, like a charm bracelet he cobbled together from trinkets he’s kept from his con days, or a mixtape full of the music that reminds him of you.

𓂃⋆.˚ he buys you your favorite snacks, no matter how obscure or hard to find. it’s his love language to see your beautiful eyes light up when you see them on the counter, all for you, his most beloved person in the whole world

𓂃⋆.˚ one christmas, he gave you a framed picture of you both, taken during one of the rare moments he wasn’t scowling at the camera. you’d been laughing, mid-snowball fight and he’d secretly printed and framed it because he thought it was the best picture of the two of you ever taken

𓂃⋆.˚ Stan loves christmas movies, especially the cheesy, feel-good ones. you’ll find him crying over the ending of It’s a Wonderful Life and insisting it’s “just allergies.”

𓂃⋆.˚ he’s a sucker for mistletoe. he’ll hang it everywhere, just so he has an excuse to kiss you. even when you’re not under it, he’ll point vaguely upwards and say, “hey, mistletoe,” before pulling you in.

𓂃⋆.˚ Stan puts antlers on the stanleymobile. he would

***

Stan isn’t big on planning, but he knows you’ve been looking forward to the holiday festivities downtown. he grumbles about the cold and the crowds, but the moment you take his hand and lead him toward the string lights and decorated shops, he softens.

he insists on winning you something at one of those cheesy carnival games, even though he curses every time he misses. eventually, he manages to snag a small, wonky-looking stuffed reindeer and hands it to you with a self-satisfied smirk.

“there. merry christmas, kid,” he says, ruffling your hair in teasing, affectionate way.

you drag him to the ice rink, and though he complains the entire time, he lets you pull him onto the ice. he’s clumsy as he tries not to fall, but when you laugh and hold onto him, he relaxes. by the end of it, you’re both clinging to each other, red-faced and breathless from laughter, but so happy to share this moment together.

when the evening winds down, Stan buys you both hot cider from a street vendor and finds a spot by the giant christmas tree in the town square. he slips his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you both admire the lights.

“this ain’t so bad. . . as long as you’re here.” as he leans to kiss you.

✧𐙚 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

ford’s version of christmas is surprisingly tender, a little awkward at first because, you know, the guy’s been trapped in alternate dimensions for thirty years and kinda forgot how to do this whole “holiday cheer” thing. he insists on going all out though: a real tree, real ornaments (none of Stan’s tacky nonsense), and actual thought put into the gifts he gives you.

you catch him late at night in the living room as he fiddles with an ornament in his hands. it’s something handmade, probably from one of his crazy adventures in random universes. when he notices you watching, he smiles shyly.

“this holiday. . . it reminds me of what i missed out on, but being here with you, it makes me feel like i’m reclaiming some of that.” he hesitates for a second, taking your hand in his. “thank you. . . for reminding me what home feels like.”

𓂃⋆.˚ he’s the kind of guy who surprises you with heartfelt little gestures, like writing you a short story as a gift or carving something intricate out of wood

𓂃⋆.˚ his gifts are so painfully thoughtful because he stays awake all night thinking about the perfect thing. a first edition book that reminds him of your favorite stories, complete with a personal inscription in his cursive handwriting

𓂃⋆.˚ little treasures from his multidimensional travels: pressed flowers from an alien world, rocks from another dimension that shimmer in the light, a hand-drawn star map of the night he first realized he loved you

𓂃⋆.˚ he’s too shy to hand them over directly so he’ll leave them on your desk or your pillow with a note that simply says: “for you.” his heart always pounds until you smile and kiss him in thanks

𓂃⋆.˚ he loves practicality but puts so much heart into it. one year, he crafted a custom notebook for you, complete with little sketches and a pressed flower he found on one of your walks

𓂃⋆.˚ he wraps everything with precise care. edges folded sharply, no stray tape. it’s absurdly cute watching this man hunch over his workbench, tongue sticking out slightly in concentration as he tries to make the wrapping paper perfect

***

Ford plans everything. he doesn’t let you know until the last second, of course, he just tells you to bundle up and meet him outside the cabin, a thermos of hot chocolate already waiting for you in his hands. his scarf is wrapped haphazardly around his neck and his glasses are fogging up as he waits for you.

“you’re going to love this,” he promises excitedly as he leads you toward a clearing in the woods where a telescope is already set up with its lens gleaming in the moonlight.

Ford’s breath is visible in the cold night air as he begins pointing out constellations. his voice is soft but brimming with passion as he tells you stories of orion, cassiopeia and scorpius. then he smiles and points to one bright star in particular.

“that’s sirius, the dog star,” he explains. “it’s the brightest star in the sky and it rises in winter.”

you’re so caught up in his voice that you barely notice him draping his coat over your shoulders to keep you warm. his arm brushes yours and he leans in close to adjust the telescope for you.

later, you both sit on a plaid blanket he brought along, sharing marshmallows from his pocket (a surprisingly cute habit of his). he points out meteors and tells you about the science behind them, but when you notice him stealing glances at you, you realize that he’s more interested in the stars reflected in your eyes.

🕯️✧ 𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫

you’re pretty sure he doesn’t even understand the concept of Christmas at first. he just likes the idea of shiny things, chaos, and people losing their minds over last-minute shopping. this demon will conjure up decorations that shouldn’t exist in this reality, like ornaments that sing creepy songs when you touch them or garlands made out of what you hope are fake teeth.

“aw, sweetie, you mortals and your ridiculous traditions! let me guess, you want peace on earth, goodwill toward men, blah blah blah.” he laughs. but what you don’t expect is when he snaps his fingers to make snow fall inside your living room. romantic, isn’t it?

but just when you think he’s gonna ruin the whole thing, he floats close to you, winking at you with his single eye. “y’know, for a meat sack, you’ve got some pretty decent taste in holidays. let’s make this one memorable, shall we?”

and memorable it is. whether it’s him warping reality to give you the most extravagant gifts you’ve ever seen (did he just pull a diamond-encrusted reindeer out of nowhere?) or making the stars spell out your name as a “christmas present,” he’s nothing if not dramatic. it’s so chaotic and unsettling, but dating Bill, you got used to find it weirdly romantic.

𓂃⋆.˚ he doesn’t wrap his gifts. he just hands them to you saying “you’re welcome, sweetie.”

𓂃⋆.˚ snowball fights with bill are intense. he cheats., making snowballs hover in the air before pelting you with them. but he’ll let you win in the end, claiming it’s because you’re his “favorite meat sack.”

𓂃⋆.˚ bill tries to summon krampus just to spice things up. it does NOT go well.

𓂃⋆.˚ bill LOVES christmas carols, but he never sings them right. he changes the lyrics to absurd or downright creepy things just to make you laugh. “oh, the weather outside is frightful, and so are the screams of mortals!”

𓂃⋆.˚ bill would absolutely gift you something ridiculous, borderline threatening. you open it and it’s. . . what? a cursed snowglobe? a contract you accidentally signed by touching the ribbon? he’s laughing, until you roll your eyes and toss the whole thing in the fireplace. poor guy is shocked

𓂃⋆.˚ he’s got a twisted sense of humor, so his gifts are always a bit offbeat too, for example, a bottle of some mystical liquid, or even just an empty box with a cryptic note inside (pls don’t read it out loud!!)

𓂃⋆.˚ but then he’ll surprise you with something. . . oddly sentimental, like a necklace engraved with your initials in gold

***

Bill shows up uninvited on christmas eve because he loves bothering his little human. no warning, no knock on the door, just bam and your the fireplace goes cold and there he is: spinning lazily above your living room, his one big eye watching bc you. “surprise, sweetie! It’s me, your beloved demon!“ is he. . . wearing a tiny santa hat perched on his corner??

“HO HO HO! MERRY APOCALYPSE!” he shouts, throwing candy canes that explode on impact. your couch is gone, replaced by a pile of something vaguely moving. you don’t ask

he’s already decorated your living room. except “decorated” is generous, it’s like if christmas threw up on a nightmare. ornaments float mid-air, blinking like eyes; tinsel coils around the walls like it’s alive; the tree is definitely moving, it waves at you.

“you didn’t think I’d miss the holiday season, did you?!” he laughs loudly, his tone got a weird excitement in it, like he genuinely loves this. “ahh, Christmas, a time for giving, receiving and unraveling the fragile sanity of your pitiful mortal mind! i brought presents!”

he snaps his fingers and it’s not a good sign, because every time he does it, you prepare for something creepy and weird. suddenly there’s a pile of gifts under the writhing tree. you’re hesitant, obviously, because one of the boxes is hissing and another is. . . uh, glowing? but Bill’s so excited, floating in circles and chanting “open ‘em! open ‘em!” you cave.

you hesitate. “. . . what’s the catch?”

his single eye narrows, offended. “oh, come on, baby. dont you trust me?”

you don’t, obviously, but curiosity is a terrible drug. so you reach out.

the first box is full of. . . how cute, teeth. just teeth. human? animal? who knows. Bill cackles. “thought you could use some spare parts!” the second box explodes into confetti that screams too damn loud your head hurts. and the third. . . oh, the third box contains a perfectly normal sweater. you blink at it, suspicious.

“what? cant a guy be sentimental?” Bill grumbles, narrowing his eye. then he lunges forward, the sweater levitating out of the box and straight onto you. “aww, look at you! you’re adorable! now let’s go and sing carols and by carols I mean we’re summoning an eldritch horror to devour the moon!“

merry christmas, you guess?

🎄๋࣭⭑ 𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐦𝐜𝐠𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭

Christmas with Fiddleford is the epitome of cozy. he’s humming holiday tunes while tinkering with some gadget that probably doesn’t belong anywhere near the christmas tree and the smell of something sweet and homemade fills the air. . . probably pie, because you know that man can bake.

a goofy smile is plastered on his face the whole day, his laughter fills the house every time you catch him singing off-key or accidentally setting something on fire in the kitchen, but don’t worry, he’s got a fire extinguisher handy.

“now don’t you worry, darlin’, christmas ain’t ‘bout fancy gifts or big ol’ decorations. it’s about spendin it with the folks ya love!”

he insists on sitting by the fire with you later with his banjo on his knee as he strums something soft and slow. he swears it’s not a carol! but god, the way this man looks at you while playing. . . you swear your heart melts a little right there. “merry christmas, sugar.” you smile and lean your head on his shoulder

𓂃⋆.˚ Fiddleford also loves making little gadgets as gifts. one year, he made you a wind-up snow globe that plays a soft lullaby and snows glitter. he was so proud of it

𓂃⋆.˚ he loves making you laugh so his gift might be something silly, like a tiny, dancing robot chicken. but it always comes with a heartfelt, “just somethin to remind ya how special you are to me.”

𓂃⋆.˚ oh, he knits. scarves, mittens, sweaters, you name it, he’s made it. he even knits little ornaments to hang on the tree. your first christmas together, he made you a scarf in your favorite colors and was so shy about giving it to you

𓂃⋆.˚ he always makes a little handmade card to go with his gifts, with a sweet note inside telling you how much you mean to him.

𓂃⋆.˚ he’s a baker during christmas. the smell of cookies fills the house and he always sneaks you a bite of dough, claiming it’s for “quality control.”

𓂃⋆.˚ when it’s snowing, he’ll insist on taking you outside to build snowmen!!

𓂃⋆.˚ gets really embarrassed but also so happy when you compliment his work. he blushes furiously and tries to brush it off, but deep down, he loves that someone appreciates him

***

Fiddleford’s kitchen is a mess of flour, sugar and cinnamon. he insists on baking cookies from scratch, even though he’s clearly winging it.

“don’t worry, darling, a lil bit of mess just means it’s gonna taste better,” he assures you, his whole face is dusted with flour.

he hums christmas carols as he works. when you try to help, he wraps his arms around you from behind and guides your hands as you roll out the dough. and damn, his touch is so comforting and warm, better than any fireplace.

“now that’s the spirit, love,” he says, nuzzling your neck.

the cookies come out slightly misshapen but so delicious and cute, Fiddleford insists on decorating them together. he smears frosting on your nose at one point, laughing when you retaliate by smearing some on his cheek.

later, as the cookies cool, he pulls you onto the couch with a cozy quilt and mugs of spiced cider. he kisses your temple and murmurs, “best christmas i ever had,” as the fire crackles softly in the background.

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schlatt-love-bot · 2 months ago

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Classroom Dad - Schlatt x Teacher!Reader Headcanon

I got the idea of Schlatt being a “classroom dad” in my head and couldn’t get it out omg, so enjoy my ramblings! For this, Teacher!Reader is at the elementary level :)

When you met, Schlatt was both in awe of your profession and confused

“So…listen, I get loving kids and loving learning and all that mushy gushy feel good shit…but you mean to tell me you only get paid that much for dealing with those little shits? …why do it?”

After dating for a while, though, he began to love the crew of kids in your classroom just as much as you did, maybe even a little bit more

“Tell me, did the kids give you any more gossip during indoor recess? Is Johnny really into Samantha??”

He would get a kick out of the stories you’d be bringing home each and every day

On the flipside, though, he would know exactly when you walked through the door on a tough day, were behaviors were out of whack or a lesson didn’t go as planned

“Awwwh, baby, come ‘ere, talk to me. I’m brewin’ you a cup of tea, and then you can tell me everything that went wrong today.”

He had a blanket on standby for when the days got so tough you just came home and needed to cry it out

After being together for so long, he had a strong understanding of just how emotionally taxing the job was, and how much came with it

Would HAPPILY play student for you when you needed to practice a lesson or activity you’ve never done with a class before

“Babe this worked out perfectly! I forget that you have the IQ of a 4th grader sometimes…”

“Hey! Not nice! I could walk away right now and leave you to figure out why my animal cell and my plant cell look exactly the same!”

Heard you complain once about your district not providing you with a class set of materials you needed, and he IMMEDIATELY bought in on the spot

“Babe, why did a case full of number 2 pencils just show up at our door…?”

“You said the kids needed them…”

It’s gotten to the point where if he sees something he thinks you need in your classroom or something your students would like, he buys it and presents it to you

“Schlatt! A guinea pig??”

“What! I figured you could use a classroom pet!! I wanted to get a classroom cat, but figured those shitheads wouldn't be able to handle it....plus allergies, y'know?”

Constant supplier of fun trinkets and toys for your classroom prize bin

“Schlatt, the kids are complaining about the ratio of squishies to stickers…”

“On it, boss. More squishies will be at our door by the end of the week.”

Your students BEGGED you to finally meet their infamous “classroom dad”

“Guys…Mr. Schlatt works a lot, I don’t know if I could get him to come by and visit…”

You mentioned it in passing during dinner one night, and Schlatt’s eyes lit up

“You mean to tell me…they want me there? To meet me? What can I do?”

And suddenly you’re having a “secret reader” come in at the end of the day to read the next chapter of the book you’re reading as a class

The kids were excited, thinking it was one of their parents, like they were used to from 1st and 2nd grade

But when Schlatt walked through the door??

You were chopped liver, these kids were treating him like he was a damn king in the classroom!

“Mr. Schlatt, how is it living with Miss (Y/N)?”

“Well, how is she in here?”

“She’s kind and cares about us, but she can be annoying with the amount of work she makes us do…”

“Yeah..that sounds about right, kiddo.”

You were making a mental note to never do this, ever, again

Until you noticed just how engaged the kids were in listening to Schlatt read

Schlatt was doing his best performance, making up voices and giving the kids a show

They were listening to every word coming from his mouth, hook, line, and sinker

…until he left them on a cliffhanger

“WHATTT???”

“MISS (Y/N)!!!! HOW COULD YOU?!?”

“MR. SCHLATT PLEASSEEEEE, KEEP GOING!!”

He looked at you with his best puppy eyes

“Yeah, Miss (Y/N), can we keep going?”

You chuckled, shaking your head as the entire class plus your boyfriend were begging to continue reading the book

“Guys, I wish I could let Mr. Schlatt continue, but your buses are about to be loaded in 5 minutes, we need to get ourselves packed up and ready to go!”

The kids, and Schlatt, let out a collective groan before shuffling to get their belongings together

Schlatt lingered, waiting until every last kid left, helping you with closing down your classroom for the day

“Yknow, toots, that was actually a lot of fun.”

“Good! I’m glad you thought so…we could definitely use a secret reader again for when we start Frindle…”

“You know I’m your man, baby. All you need to do is ask.”

You told Schlatt to leave without you, needing to do a couple more things before leaving for the day

Reluctant, he left without you, greeting you at the door with your favorite slippers, a glass of wine, and dinner already made

“I get why you come home so exhausted, now, I was only with those kids for what, 30 minutes? I’m absolutely exhausted!”

You let out a laugh, glad he understood your daily exhaustion on a personal level now

“Seeing you with those kids, though…it’s got me thinking…”

You raised your eyebrow, signalling him to continue

“What if…what if we start workin’ on our own little gremlin…”

You nearly choked on your wine, cheeks beginning to get hot with blush

“Think about it, doll, and then get back to-”

“Yes. We should. In fact…we should get started right now..”

Not much dinner was eaten that night, but both you and Schlatt certainly had your fill of dessert…

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 11 months ago

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The Ranger (Part 1)

Summary: The reader is trying to enjoy her vacation in the rainy forest in her cozy cabin when an unexpected heat comes on. But things turn dangerous fast and she needs the help of a local forest ranger to get out of it. But she wasn't expecting his help to include claiming her and being her true mate. Because something isn't right and her Alpha is keeping something from her...

Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader

Word Count: 5,300ish

Warnings: language, life threatening medical situation, angst

A/N: Please enjoy this first part!

_______

This was not an ideal situation. You’d finally done it and taken that solo vacation in the mountains. A cozy cabin in a retreat from the world. The trees had turned already and were bare but the damp, cloudy rainy day would have been perfect to curl up by the wood fireplace and get through that stack of books you’d been meaning to.

Except your heat, your heat that’d always been on schedule since you’d started having them, was three fucking weeks early. You didn’t have any medicine besides a few pain killers meant for headaches, not dangerous cramps, and the cabin only had basics meant for allergies or a cold. You needed heat suppressants soon if you didn’t want to go into a full heat.

Which again, wasn’t an ideal situation since you didn’t have a flippin’ mate.

You could have tried to trek back to civilization through the winding dirt road but it’d taken two hours on the way in. Two hours of intense cramps? No way were you making that drive.

“Shit,” you said, walking slowly to the service room on the lower floor of the cabin where a radio at a table sat. Because of course you wanted to vacation somewhere without people, that meant no cell service either.

A rumble of cramps passed through you, warmth flaring your insides. You gritted your teeth and grabbed the radio, turning the frequency to the ranger station listed on the sheet on the table for emergencies.

“Hello, uh, forest service? I need help,” you said, closing your eyes as pain radiated up your spine. You frowned for a moment, the radio crackling. “Hello? I-”

“This is station 327, Ranger Winchester. What’s the emergency?” asked a strong, serious voice. You bit your bottom lip as you imagined he was an Alpha, your core quivering at the idea of getting a knot. “Mam? Please respond.”

“M-My heat’s early. It’s real bad and I have no medication. I-I’m in the Vrbo cabin off route 37, Mount Dusk I think it was called. I-”

“This line is for true emergencies. Your heat being a few days early and you being an unprepared Omega is not-”

“Listen asshole,” you snarled, gasping when your stomach threatened to curl in on itself. “It’s three fucking weeks early which everyone knows isn’t normal. I need a fucking heat kit, a strong one, or a fucking knot now and since I’m out here alone, all I got is your ass. So get me my shit and-FUCK!”

You dropped the radio as you bent over, falling to your knees. Something was wrong. Heat’s didn’t come on this fast, not even when you scented your true mate.

You could hear noise through the radio but your head was thrumming, your body grateful for the cold wood floor below you. It wasn’t possible to die from a heat, was it? If you let the fever go you supposed but it took days and days for that to happen and you’d only felt crappy for an hour. Yeah, you’d be just fine. This guy would bring you medicine and you’d be fine.

Right?

You blinked open your eyes when you heard glass break. Crap, you’d passed out for who knew how long. The overwhelming scent of Alpha hit you and despite the pain, you shot upright, staring at the man in the wet raincoat as he reached his hand through the broken pane and undid the lock. He froze when he saw you, his own scent shifting subtly. A hint of fear under the surface.

“Jesus,” he mumbled, raking his eyes over your sweat drenched body. He took off his backpack, pulling out a white box and a bottle of water, cautiously setting them on the ground and sliding them over to you.

“I look that bad, huh?” you said, ripping open the box and finding the medicine you needed, knocking it back with a swig of water.

“You’re in heat and I don’t want to be accused of doing shit I didn’t,” he said. You narrowed your eyes, hand fisting in your own shirt over your stomach. That shouldn’t have been happening still. Heat medication worked instantly. “What’s-”

You fell over again, clutching your abdomen, head spinning, body going haywire at his scent.

“Please,” you whispered, finding his hard eyes. “I’ll give you whatever you want. I-I need you to-”

“I can’t.” A wracked sob slipped past your lips as something in your broke, pain flooding every single cell. You just needed a knot and it would be bearable. He muttered to himself and quickly you were in strong arms, your own wrapping around him shakily. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“I’ll pay you,” you whispered, hating how that sounded but he simply carried you out in the pouring rain, the cold air helping your skin not feel so hot.

“I’m on Novi-Alpha. If I knotted you,, you’d fucking die so I’m sorry but I can’t help you like that even if I wanted to.”

“I’m gonna die from this fucking fever anyways!” you shouted as he opened the backdoor of a rugged looking jeep.

“One’s a chance, one’s a guarantee,” he said, setting you down, your arms still clinging to him. He eyed you, forcibly grabbing your wrists and pulling them away. “You will not die, understand me? Now let me get you to a hospital.”

You reached for him but he moved away too quickly, closing the door. He ducked into the cabin to retrieve his bag before he was behind the wheel.

“Honey Dusk Hospital is aware you’re in a dangerous heat,” he said, turning the jeep around and driving down the dirt road, way faster than you had.

“Don’t kill me in a fucking car accident on the way,” you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut.

“This vehicle is meant for these roads, unlike your car. We’ll be on route 37 in thirty minutes, at the hospital in forty five.” You threw your head back, his musky scent filling the small space.

“Distract me,” you breathed out. “Fuck you smell so good. If you weren’t on Novi-Alpha, I’d climb you like a fucking tree.”

“Whoa lady. Calm down-”

“Don’t lady me. We’re like the same fucking age.”

“You say fucking a lot, you realize.”

“You have your insides tearing apart and tell me you wouldn’t be cursing-” You shouted, bracing yourself against the door panel, feeling him step on the gas harder. “What the fuck is happening to me?”

“...I have an idea,” he said quietly. You flashed open your eyes, looking at his incredible scruff covered jawline, his gaze focused on the bumpy, wet road ahead.

“What? Are you a doctor? Are-”

“No. I only know my basic medical training.” He frowned, rounding a tight corner. “It’s probably not a heat and you’re just sick.”

“I know what a heat feels like thank you very much.” You shivered violently, the ranger sighing. “What’s your name?”

“Dean Winchester. Try to rest. We’ll be there soon.”

The ranger’s suggestion to rest had, shockingly, not worked. By the time you were speeding down this small town’s streets, you were shaking so hard you literally couldn’t stop. Dean had reached back more than once as he drove with a handheld thermometer, muttering a few f-bombs to himself.

At least he wasn’t the one with a hundred and five temperature. A hundred and five and a half to be exact. You were pretty sure your heat was about to boil the fuck out of you and kill you within the next hour.

Dean said something but you didn’t hear him over your screaming. The next thing you knew he was ripping open the door and running inside a hospital with you in his arms, nearly tripping into a stretcher where a team was waiting.

“She’s fucking dying,” he said as he set you down, the team of doctors and nurses rushing you into a side room.

“You said this heat came on suddenly?” he asked Dean, someone sticking a thermometer in your ear.

“106. She’s too hot,” called out the nurse, the doctor near Dean rushing over, the team suddenly pushing you out of the room and down the hall. You were shoved through a pair of double doors into a bathroom, a silver high walled tub in the corner.

“I got her,” said Dean, lifting you up and plunging you into an icy cold bath. You screamed as it burned your fiery skin, his hands on your shoulders forcing you to stay inside. “Look at me. Look at me.”

You couldn’t get the words out, taking in his green emerald eyes for the first time. His scent was still all around you, pine trees and vanilla beans, a cozy campfire and aged whiskey, fresh tobacco and soft linen. Your brain went fuzzy, blood pumping in your ears, thrumming in time with your heart. Was it getting slower? Your eyes were getting heavier, that was for sure.

But he smelled so pretty, so…homey. Rugged. Yours.

“We’re losing her!” someone shouted, just as one last image of his concerned face crossed your mind.

You felt strangely…blissed out when you woke. Satisfied, like you were after being on the receiving end of a knot but also relaxed and floaty, like when you finished a heat. It wasn’t exactly a problem your heat had passed but you remembered a whole lot of pain and a high fever which wasn’t normal.

So what the fuck had happened?

You stretched in bed and sat up, a doctor in a white coat stepping into the room with a smile.

“Y/N! Glad to see you awake. It’s been a few hours. How are you feeling?” he asked, gently taking your wrist and checking your pulse.

“Uh, pretty good actually. I take it my heat’s gone?” He hummed, raising your arm up, feeling under your armpit.

“Yes. There’s not many cases a year but some Omegas do unfortunately have a negative reaction.” The doctor put two fingers to your bonding gland on your neck, your eyes narrowing. Why would he be feeling that?

“What are you doing?” you asked as he pulled them back, glancing at a monitor.

“Just checking your bond is healing.” You stared at him, the doctor glancing down with a sigh. “You don’t remember, do you? What happened before you passed out in the tub?”

“I remember being dumped in ice cold water and a whole lot of people shouting but that’s it.”

“You didn’t pass out immediately. We determined while you were on the way here that your heat was triggered by the fact you came into contact with your true mate. Ordinarily, you would have picked up on this yourselves but your Alpha is on medication that has strong side effects. Namely, he was only vaguely aware of who you were through scent but there was no desire to mate as would be the norm. For you, unfortunately there is no recognition on a level that you’re aware of. You understandably would not know you went into heat early because of your true mate.”

You reached a hand up to your bonding gland, wide eyed when you felt…something. You flew out of bed, the doctor trying to stop you but you were quickly in the small bathroom, staring in the mirror.

“What the fuck is that!” you shouted. On your neck was a fresh, pink, bite mark. Someone had fucking claimed you. You angrily spun around, the doctor holding up his hands. “What kind of hospital is this! I’m suing the fuck out of you and this whole place!”

You caught a whiff of something…delectable, an Alpha’s scent somewhere close by. It calmed you, ever so briefly, the doctor sighing.

“The man that brought you in-”

“The ranger guy.”

“Yes he…well he…there’s no easy way to say this. He is your true mate. Ordinarily we would have used medication to mimic your true mate’s scent but seeing as he was there…when he was told he would be able to claim…” he said as you stalked out, eye twitching. “We were losing you and receiving a claim bite from your true mate was the fastest way to bring your fever down. In emergency situations, true mates are allowed to make medical choice for you if you’re unable-”

“He wasn’t my mate then,” you growled.

“Physically, no but on a metaphysical level, yes. Frankly, the health of my patient, you, is all I care about. We’d like to observe you a few more hours before discharging.” You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes.

“So my heat is magically gone and some random dude hanging out in the hall is now my Alpha?”

“That’s the more blunt way of putting it. We’ll send home medication to suppress your urges to mate physically. Your Alpha will be unable to knot you until he has completed his Novi-Alpha prescription.”

“And when will that be?” you asked, tilting your head. The doctor frowned. “When?”

“...You don’t know what Novi-Alpha is prescribed for, do you. That is a discussion for you and your Alpha.” You wanted to argue but he lifted his chin. “Please let me finish my examination and determine if your heat had any consequences.”

Three hours later they finally let you leave, a white baggie in hand that held a bottle of pills you were to take once a week for the foreseeable future. There were well over a hundred inside which made you more than queasy.

What the fuck was Novi-Alpha and why did a guy that looked more than healthy need to be on it?

You frowned when you stepped outside under the covered front entrance, the ranger standing from where he sat on a bench.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “How are you feeling?”

“I didn’t give you permission to claim me.” His scent shifted, an edge to it you didn’t like. He narrowed his eyes, a frown growing on his otherwise handsome face. “Oh, don’t you start on that we’re true mates shit. You didn’t ask for my consent.”

“Excuse me but you were the one begging for it,” he quipped back. He took a few steps away like he was heading for the sidewalk, suddenly turning on a dime and getting in your face. He breathed heavily, clenching his jaw. “You don’t feel…this and I get that it’s my fault. I barely feel it myself. And I frankly don’t care about your consent. My mate was five minutes away from death.”

“Oh, I did not sign up for some toxic asshole,” you said, shaking your head. You took a step, Dean grabbing your wrist. He looked ready to snarl, lip curling up.

“True mates are never, ever bad mates. Stop hating me for saving you.”

“I don’t even fucking know you. This whole situation is your damn fault in the first place.” He twitched his eye, yanking on your arm so you stepped forward. “Get off, ass-”

“I am your Alpha and I’m taking you home,” he said, tugging you along after him, your feet cold on the wet ground, socks already soaked through.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you growled. Dean whipped around and in a second, you were tossed over his shoulder. “Dean! Put me down!”

“You’ll wear yourself out if you don’t calm down.” You growled, punching his back twice. You raised your fist again but felt dizzy, your hands instead gripping him tightly. “Did you listen to the doctors at all? You need to take it easy.”

“Just take me to my cabin,” you grumbled. He didn’t speak again, only grunted once when he opened the passenger door of his truck to slide you inside. You were too tired to deal with this crap. You’d go back to the cabin, sleep for a solid twelve hours and figure out this mate crap tomorrow.

The roads were unfamiliar as Dean drove in silence, winding and twisting as he drove away from town and off a small road. It was a gravel road unlike the one to your cabin but you perked up when you saw a cabin in a small clearing after only a few minutes.

“Uh, that’s not my cabin,” you said. Dean put the truck in park, turning it off. “I was out on Mount-”

“This is my house…our house,” he mumbled the last part. You shook your head at him, Dean rolling his eyes. “You need rest, not to sit in a car for hours. I’ll get your shit from that rental and bring it here. We’ll figure out the rest of your crap from wherever you’re from later.”

“Excuse me? We’re mates, as much as that appalls me. We make decisions like where to live together. I have a job, a life-”

“We live here. End of discussion,” he growled. His scent was raw, twitchy. There was no room for arguing. You were ready to fight back but you forced yourself to calm down. He was your true mate and as much as you hated to admit it, he had a point. True mates were never bad to one another. He wouldn’t harm you but good god was this guy protective.

You frowned when he held up a finger to you and got out. He threw up his hood, rain coming down harder. In a flash he was at your door, picking you up bridal style and rushing you over to a covered porch. He set you down to unlock the door, flipping a light switch before he stepped back. You walked past him, surprised to find the cabin quite spacious and modern.

He disappeared behind you, returning with your white paper bag, now wet. His boots were removed and you peeled off your soaked through socks, following him slowly as he went to the open kitchen area on the right. The bag was set down, Dean moving to his fridge and taking a few things out.

It was open concept, kitchen on the right, living room on the left, a dining table in the front by the windows. There was a hallway in the back and one off the kitchen, probably leading to bedrooms and a garage. A large fireplace was nestled in the corner of the living room and you saw Dean cross into your vision, going to it to toss in a few logs.

Honestly, it was nicer than your rental had been.

Once he had a fire going, he turned back to where you stood on the front rug, water dripping off of you. His lips pressed into a thin line, looking you up and down not like an Alpha would his Omega. No, he was being very clear.

You were the stray that’d followed him home he hadn’t wanted.

“I don’t have to be here,” you said when he approached, staring up at his dark eyes. “This isn’t normal. We’re supposed to be all over each other and clearly we’re not. We-”

“There’s a stew going on the stove. It’ll be ready in an hour. Just leave it alone.” He put a hand on the small of your back, walking you down to the back hall, motioning you to the last door on the left. He flipped on a light, cascading you into a cozy bedroom with soft white bedding and a dark green flannel blanket on top.

He cleared his throat and went to a closet, pulling out a few pieces including a t shirt, hoodie, sweatpants and pair of boxer briefs.

“You should warm up in the shower. Bathroom is right there. The laundry room is on the other side of the house, near the kitchen and garage. It’s coming down harder so it’ll take me a few hours to get to the rental and back here. You should-”

“Take it easy. Yeah, I got that.” He nodded, pausing at the bedroom door with his back to you.

“If it’s any consolation, I’m sorry this happened to you. You don’t deserve it.” You quirked your eyebrow up.

“You’re my Alpha. We’re soulmates. I guess this is supposed to happen.” He was still, the air thick. “I…listen I know I was…I wish I’d been aware of what I’d been saying but…”

He smelled tense, his hand in a tight fist by his side. What the fuck was up with this guy?

“Whether we like it or not, we’re mates,” you said gently. “When you get off that medicine, it’ll feel different-”

“I can never get off it and I can never knot you. You’ll never feel a damn thing for me.” Then he was gone, tearing down the hall and out the front door before you could even move.

An unpleasant shiver ran down your spine that he was right.

Your feet moved on autopilot to the bathroom, stripping out of the wet clothes and standing in front of the nicely tiled shower. In seconds you were under hot water, cascading down your back, through your hair. Fingers reached up to your neck, rubbing over your bond.

There were no sparks or flurry in your veins. You were supposed to be able to feel Dean, feel your connection, feel his soul.

But there was nothing. All you felt was empty.

You couldn’t feel the other part of your soul and he blamed himself.

“Fuck that,” you said, quickly finishing and getting dressed in the clothes aside from the sweatpants that were too long.

You found his computer in one of the spare bedrooms, stealing it along with a notepad and pen. Out in the kitchen, you settled into a seat at the island and drew a line down the middle of the pad. One side for information about Dean, the other Novi-Alpha.

With a quick stretch, you cracked open the laptop and got to work.

Three Hours Later

It was dark by the time headlights flashed through the front windows. The computer said it was just after six thirty and you knew you were about thirty seconds away from an argument. Ah, what a wonderful way to spend your first night with your Alpha.

Out of view you heard the door leading from the garage to the house crack open, wet boots against the tile in the mudroom.

“I’m back!” he called from around the corner. “We’ll unpack your stuff tomorrow. How was…”

Your eyes darted over to the hallway he exited from, his socked feet padding his footfalls on the woode floors that covered the rest of the house. He stared at where you had his laptop, a charger plugged into the side of the island, a stack of papers next to you, your notepad, pen, three different highlighters and a cup of coffee.

“Are…are you working?” He asked, face souring. “You should be resting. I thought you were here on vacation anyways.”

“I am and this isn’t work related.” He narrowed his eyes, not saying anything as he went to the sink on the other side of the island to wash up.

“Did you eat yet?” You shook your head, typing some more. A heavy sigh left him. He went to a cabinet, pulling out two large bowls. “You really should have eaten something. You nearly died this morning. Your school project can wait.”

“I’m not in college,” you said, jotting down a few more notes before you saved what you’d been working on and signed out of your account. You closed the screen, watching water trail down from his wet hair and soaking his shirt collar. “Why are you wet?”

“Because there’s a thunderstorm outside. It rains here most days,” he said dryly, giving you a side glare as he walked the two bowls of stew over to the kitchen table. You cocked your head at him as you got up, Dean quickly retrieving utensils. “What?”

“You parked in the garage just now and my cabin was far enough away that you’d be dry. Where’d you stop on the way back?” He slammed the drawer shut, eye twitching. “Strike a nerve?”

“I asked you to do one thing. One thing. Rest. And y-you’re writing a research paper or some crap? Sit down and eat your damn dinner.” You would have told him off but truth be told, you were starving a bit. You took your bowl and moved it to the seat across from his, Dean angrily setting down a spoon. A few moments later, a large glass of water was in front of you and he had a bottle of beer on his placemat. Dean sat with a loud thud, shoveling a large spoonful of food into his mouth.

“Why are you wet?” you asked again, crossing your arms.

“Why does it matter? Fucking eat.” You leaned back, Dean dropping his spoon in the bowl. “Really? This is how it’s gonna be? I’ve been nothing but nice-”

“If this is you nice then I’d hate to see you mean.” You raised your chin, picking up the spoon. “I’ve always heard alpha’s protective instincts are unmatched. You can barely feel whatever this bond is and you’re so worked up-”

“I almost watched you die today.” You closed your eyes and sighed. A small noise made you open your eyes, Dean sliding a small white box over to you. You frowned, lips parting when you saw the newest iPhone inside. “I got you a phone on the account your other one was in your pocket when you took your artic dip. I rushed to the store before they closed. That is why I’m wet. I’d never want you to feel like you’re trapped here, especially when you can’t feel our ‘whatever bond.’”

“Thank you,” you said quietly. You ate in silence, the only sounds coming from the rain on the roof, the clanking of spoons and the quiet thrum of a soft rock station in the living room.

He seemed…stressed. Maybe you should wait for the morning to bring up what you’d found.

But you didn’t get the chance when he picked up and glanced at your notepad. Green eyes scanned over the pages before he gathered up everything you’d been working on.

And tossed it straight into the fireplace.

“Hey!” you shouted, rushing over as he stopped you in your tracks. He leered down, eyes dark. “That was-”

“You will delete everything you saved on that computer. Now.”

“You can’t-” He gripped your arm tight, so hard he was shaking it.

“Do it or I will make your life hell.” He released you, spinning you around towards the computer. You didn’t believe he’d hurt you. True mates were incapable of it. But you didn’t want to tempt him anymore than you already had.

Ten minutes later, your backup was gone and after a through examination by Dean, he took the computer and tossed it into the fireplace as well.

“I know you have questions,” he said quietly, back to you as the flames danced around the melting device. “I never should have gone hiking this morning. You caught my scent in the wind and-”

“Why would you go hiking in the pouring rain? It was raining this morning too. I had my coffee under the covered porch but it was coming down like bullets. No one would be out there willingly.” He turned and faced you, eyes roaming over your body, stuck on how his boxer briefs molded to your legs.

“In another life, we could have been happy. I would have given you everything you asked for. But not this one. I will keep you safe but that is all we are. We don’t get our happy ever after until we’re both dead.”

You swallowed, stepping into the living room, stopping a few feet away. “You hurt my arm just now.”

“I know,” he said, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again as long as you don’t do stupid things.”

You were getting angry again, Dean holding up his hands. “Stupid shit like try to know my new Alpha who just left me all alone? Sorry for trying to look up your damn social media. Asshole.”

Dean dropped his hands and went back to the fireplace, poking the computer with a poker, shaking his head.

“The more in the dark you are-”

“I’m a corporate forensic analyst, Dean,” you said, Dean’s shoulders stiffening. “Those notes on the computer? In that pad? Those articles? You can burn them all but it’s in my head. I don’t need the internet anymore to figure out what’s going on.”

“And what does your analysis tell you?” he grit out.

“Novi-Alpha is a cancer medication specifically for Alphas. But you don’t have it and never have. So why would an otherwise healthy Alpha take it? Well, it apparently has other uses that the public doesn’t know about…if you’re willing to live with the side effects. Side effects like knotting becoming a deadly activity to the person on the receiving end. The inability to feel your mate. Scent changes. And my personal favorite, if taken without the binding agent that’s given for cancer treatment, it changes your DNA coding without changing your DNA. Apparently law enforcement doesn’t want that news to get out there because it’s a bitch to catch people if they find out they can change their DNA on tests.”

You grabbed his arm and made him face you, a loud crack of thunder echoing in the room. Dean breathed calmly, eyes finding yours.

“Why are you taking medicine to change your DNA?”

“Because I did something bad, Y/N.” He got closer, pressing his chest to yours, forcing you to tilt your head. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Fingers brushed over your cheek, thumb swiping over the curve of it slowly. “Because your true mate is a monster. And once you know the truth, you’ll want to run away…and I don’t think I’m strong enough to let you go.”

The air was thick with his scent, dark yet pleasant. Painful even. You leaned into his touch, Dean’s green eyes widening ever so slightly.

“Novi-Alpha prevents Omegas from feeling their true mate. But I know you feel me.” You closed your eyes, breathing him in. “You have to tell me the truth eventually.”

“No I don’t,” he whispered.

“You’ll tell me,” you said, opening your eyes, Dean’s hand sliding down to your mark. “Because I’m in danger if you don’t.”

He shook his head, pulling away from you. “Don’t pull that crap, Y/N. You’re safer not knowing.”

“Right. That’s why you burned everything just now.” He looked up, like someone else would magically tell him what to do. “You need to protect me. It’s your job. So you have to tell me the truth, Alpha. You have to.”

He laughed quietly, running a hand through his damp hair. “Using my title to get what you want. Manipulative. Maybe you were meant for me.”

“Dean-”

“The Ranger.” You raised your eyebrows at him, Dean wandering to the dark window.

“Uh, what? This is because you’re a forest ranger?” He laughed again, crossing his arms.

“No. I do that because…it’s a pretty isolated job. Small town work.” He looked to his right, a sad smile on his face. “The Ranger. That was my name when I had a different job.”

“That’s not a name…” you said, Dean shrugging. “What’d you do when you were The Ranger?”

He smirked, meeting your curious gaze. “Have you ever killed anyone?”

He slowly stalked back to you, tilting his head. He leaned in close, glancing at your lips. “N-No, can’t say I have.”

“Ever kill an animal?”

“I hit a squirrel with my car once. I cried all night for that.” Dean rested his forehead against yours, his scent rolling off of him in powerful waves. “D-Do you hunt animals?”

“No.” He brushed his lips to the shell of your ear, his pulse strangely calm. “Now people, that’s a different story.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

#dean x reader #spn #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #dean x #dean x you #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester fanfic #abo #alpha!Dean x omega!reader

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samitostuff · 3 months ago

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ART DUMP ART DUMP ART DUMP ART DUMP ART DUMP ART DUMP ART DUMP ART DUMP ART DUMP ART-

a little angst, otherwise it wouldn't be a DC AU, ofc

in this drawing, i was thinking about p&f reader's arrival at wayne mansion and how alone she must have felt since no one really cared to spend time with her and, if we go the route where her mother died, she just went through a traumatic event and has literally no one to support her through her grief

and I can even see people around her just brushing off her feelings, since she was adopted by a rich family, so it doesn't matter if she lost someone important for this to happen, she should be grateful that she isn't in a worse situation yadda yadda

in this one I was just having fun with the idea of the crossover between gravity falls and this au, which is a brilliant one! I literally can't stop giggling while thinking about how dangerous, big, incredibly bizarre and probably traumatizing adventures these three would get into

(and if you saw what I did there, you did it, If you didn't, you didn't)

ohohohohohohoho this one

I kept thinking about p&f reader helping this alternate version of Batman solve the vampires case while stuck in their dimension, and then waddling away as soon she's done with it and still making It in time for dinner

I just hold this scenario very dear to me

I might move this one to digital, I still don't know if it's worth the sleepless nights I'll probably have, but we'll see...

I also remembered our our lord and savior @yanmuffins mentioned once that these two versions of damian were going to end up fighting once because of p&f reader and that information just stuck in my brain in a way I just can't get rid of it

aside from that, maybe I should make vampire!reader with a mullet, I feel this would make her hotter-

It will probably never happen, but imagine if jon manages to confess and it ends up being reciprocated? or p&f reader just found out some very important things about herself, like an allergy or smth

I couldn't do an art dump without tim being paranoid about perry, sorry, it was stronger than me

more crossovers, mORE, MORE, MORE

(and again, if you saw It, you did it, If you didn't, you won't)

It doesn't look like It, but the thing in the ground is a book... the journal kinda book

and last but not least, the p&f reader in the vampire!reader dimension, but she got yoinked outta the mashine she builted by her own father who immediately recognized the extremely intelligent and problematic genius in her blood, which was all the fucking confirmation he needed to confirm that she was, infact, his daughter

the fifty seven hours without sleep didn't help his case either-

#yandere batfam #gravity falls #platonic yandere batfam #i fckn loved this so much actually #yandere batfamily #it made me giggle #can u hear me screaming in boredom while i did these?#yes?#good.#medraw

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greynatomy · 1 year ago

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what did you call me?

katrina gorry x reader

wasn’t planning of making a second part, but people have been asking and gave me some ideas for it.

part 1 part 3

———

After everyone got showered and dressed, they all got back on the coach to the hotel they were staying in, minus you and Harper, taking the rental you rented.

You, Kat, Harper, Charli, and Kyra all went to your wife’s room, the rest of the team did their own thing. You got yourself comfortable on the lounge chair in the corner of the room while the others laid on the beds.

“Okay. First question. How did you guys meet?” Kyra was the first to speak.

“I went to Australia back in 2021 and almost knocked her down. She’s so tiny that I didn’t even see her.”

“Shut up. But she invited me to go with her to breakfast as an apology.”

“Ohmygod! It’s like a literal book meeting. Write a story on wattpad type of meeting. That’s so cute!”

“What’s a wattpad?”

“Okay! Second question. Charli your turn.”

“Who asked who in marriage?”

“Uh, she did.” Kat pointed to you. “It wasn’t extravagant or anything. It was a couple months after Harper was born and she made her wear a little onesie that said ‘Will you marry Mama’ on it. It was so cute.”

The questions kept being asked and Katrina answers them all. Meanwhile, you were falling asleep on the chair, the jet lag catching up to you.

Harper, getting tired herself, carefully slides herself down off the bed and waddling over to your sleeping form. Somehow finding a way to climb onto you on her own, She grabs the hem of your shirt and climbs inside, settling herself on your torso, instantly falling asleep, all while the three Matildas are still having their q&a session.

Charli was the first to notice Harper gone from the bed.

“Oh my. That is so adorable.”

Kyra and Katrina look towards the direction where Charli’s finger points, seeing you asleep with a lump under your shirt.

“I’ve got to take a picture.” Kyra pulls out her phone and snaps a photo.

“Harper loves to take naps like that. Y/N has done skin to skin with her ever since she was born and Harper loves it.”

“They’re quite the duo aren’t they?”

“Yeah. And It’s crazy how we met the day I found out I was pregnant with Harper too.”

“That’s so cute. They both came to you on the same day, and now they’re inseparable.”

In the following days, you stayed in Australia getting to know the team a lot more, getting especially close to Charli and Kyra. The team has a day off today and you really wanted to visit the Australia Zoo and invited Kyra and Charli along.

You’ve just made it to where the cheetahs are, Harper presses herself close to the glass. Kyra and Charli went off to get something to snack on and drink with Kat leaving me with Harper. Minutes later, the three come back with more than enough food and drinks giving your daughter some.

“Here you go, Mama.” Kyra is holding out a bottle of water to you, but you’re frozen. Not knowing what’s happening, she shakes the bottle in front of your face.

“What did you call me?”

“Oh. Uh.” Finally realizing what she said, Kyra stutters a bit. “It’s just you’re Harper’s mom, Harper’s my sister, and you’ve treated me like I was you kid too, like how Mini does and you’ve actually felt like another Mom to me.”

“Me too!” Charli cuts in.

“Aw, babe. Are you crying?”

“No, I have allergies.” You turn away, wiping you eyes.

“Family group hug!”

Your family of three just turned into a family of five and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

#woso x reader #greynatomy #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #katrina gorry x reader #katrina gorry

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sweetracha · 1 year ago

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Dumb Bunny

Sugar Content: Spicy Sweet (SMUT!), Sugary Sweet (Some Fluff)

Allergy Warning: Mommy Dom Felix, Miss Dom Han, Sub Reader, Edging (Han), Overstim (Felix), Humiliation, Messy Sex, Oral, Heavily Implied Sub-Space, Degradation, Praise, Dumbification, Illusions to Aftercare.

Confectioner's Note: I got so carried away with this one. It was meant to be a short Kinky Sprinkles. Thank you @kaciidubs for the idea!

You didn't mean to disobey. Okay well, you did but you didn't mean to get caught. The boys were out celebrating after the VMA's, and at this point, they should be halfway gone from sober at their third party of the night. You were still a secret, a little gift Han and Felix kept greedily for themselves. A situation you were more than okay with.

They just looked so good. Their carpet outfits, their presence when accepting the award, their performance…god damn their performance. You couldn't help the wet patch that grew in your panties. Good thing Felix always came prepared. You quickly riffled through his luggage to find your rabbit vibe. Clothes were discarded all over the floor on your trip back to the bed. Once the head came to life and the weight sat heavily on your clit, you were gone.

So gone in fact that you didn't hear the door to the room open. You didn't hear the small gasps and tsks of disappointment. Nor did you hear the footsteps leading to you. What broke you out from your bliss was two sets of hands staking a claim on your thighs as you felt both sides of the bed dip.

"Poor poor bunny…" Felix faked a sigh. You attempted to force your legs shut but their strength combined spread you open even further. "We are just terrible doms aren't we Han?"

"The worst! Oh, baby, you don't deserve to be treated like this. Maybe we should leave."

"NO! No…you are the best, please!"

"Oh?" Han acted as if his curiosity was peaked. "What would ever possess our good girl to act so naughty if it wasn't that we were bad at our jobs? It couldn't be that she decided to act like a slut tonight instead, hmm?"

"We even skipped the after-parties to come celebrate with you, bunny. We knew we had a good girl waiting for us." Felix came in close to your ear and dropped his voice scarily low. "Right, baby? You wouldn't happen to not be our good girl. Would you?"

"I'm sorry!" you cracked and the boys looked shocked at one another, obviously still a part of the game they were playing. "I was so horny without you! I kept watching your performance and and and I COULDN'T HELP IT" you cried out.

"Oh poor bunny, Mommy is so sorry. You seem so desperate right now. Of course, your dumb little horny brain couldn't handle more than a day without our cocks. We should have known. Just our slutty little bunny." Felix took a hand to caress your face, he smirked as he saw the glass form over your eyes. So close, they were so so close.

"But that doesn't mean you can go unpunished, baby. You know our rules and you still decide to break them. You might be able to trick Mommy with that 'dumb bunny' act, but Miss knows better. Baby, you deliberately chose to be naughty. Don't lie, honey, I already know." Han's hand cupped the other side of your face, thumbing your lips. That was the final move. When the thumb slipped past your lips and you began to suck, they saw you were exactly where they wanted you.

Han and Felix took their parts like perfectly trained actors. Felix was your mommy, sweet and kind laced with humiliation. Han was Miss, the dom that lived to see you crumble and take you to your breaking point.

Positioned flat on his back, Han shot Felix a knowing look. Felix quickly took you by your bare waist and placed you right above Han's face. But this part was new. Instead of facing the headboard so Han could eat you out like you were his last meal, you were turned to face outwards. Meeting eyes with Felix who was straddling the other dom's thighs.

"Confused bunny? You are so lost in that empty head of yours. Lower yourself on his tongue, Miss is going to make you feel so good."

You were not going to break any more orders tonight. It all made sense as you lowered yourself, your soaked clit meeting his fat tongue. Doubling over in pleasure and crying out, Felix had to reposition you. Before you could stable yourself Han got to work.

You threw your head back in a whaling cry as he played with your puffy cunt. The rapper knew he had a way with his tongue. Messy sex didn't even begin to explain what Han liked. He wanted slick, split, and cum. He needed it wet and sticky, you were capable of giving it to him.

The room around you began to blur, eyes crossing from pleasure. One tap to Han's thigh form Felix made him lift your hips quickly off his face. Instantly tears threatened to spill. You let out a groan of desperation which was met with a sharp smack to your ass.

"Oh Baby" Han caught his breath. "You think Miss would let you off that easily? No. This is a punishment for being such a slutty little thing. Now back down." A double tap to the reddening spot followed his command.

This repeated 3 more times, each soaking your face in more and more tears. The bed was drenched under you. Squelching became the dominant sound in the room. Nonsensical pleas left you. A sweet hand was placed on the back of your head, glassy eyes met dark ones. Felix leaned in just close enough to kiss. He might let you finally tip over the edge. Right before your lips met, he shoved your head down. Now hovering over Han's angry cock, Felix's hand brought it to your lips.

"Suck his cock, bunny. Make miss cum and he will let you finish. That is easy enough for you to understand, right baby?"

You didn't respond, not even a nod. You just slotted his cock in your mouth and began to suck. Han took advantage of this new angle. Rough hands spread your ass apart as he sunk his tongue in even deeper. His new hold on you allowed for more access to all the spots that drove you over the edge. It was clear he was following your actions. Suck fast? Lick faster. Deep Throat? Deeper fingers. With this information, you quickly brought both of you to the edge. Using your last trick, you took Han all the way to the base and gagged. He went crazy when he felt your thick saliva drip down his cock. Han filled your throat with cum as he pushed hard on that spot deep inside of you. You blacked out before you even heard your own moan.

A gentle tap to your face brought you back to reality. Soft shushing met your subtle cries. Soon you were lifted into a pair of arms and brought to a bare chest. The skin on your skin grounded you.

"Color Bunny?" Han's voice was so gentle like he worried it would break you.

"Green" it came out rough due to the abuse on your vocal cords. "Let Mommy please you, Bunny. Then we will take care of our subby baby." Han tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

You were moved so your head was cradled between Han's thick thighs, back flush to the sheets. Felix lifted your legs to pin your knees to your chest. You didn't have to worry about staying in place, Han's job was to hold you there.

It was easy for Felix to enter your soaking cunt, Han made sure you were more than wet enough. It only took 3 strokes before you were ready to cum again.

"Bunny, you are so sensitive. Oh my god-- fuck bunny, you are squeezing me so hard. Cum baby, do it. Cum for Mommy" and cum you did.

You couldn't even come down from your high before Felix was building you up again. Each time you came, Felix sunk his thrusts in deeper. Han edges, Felix overstims. A hand crept up to your throat, halting.

"Mommy is making you feel so good, isn't he baby?" Han whispered in your ear.

"Mhm y-ye- mhmm"

"Shhh Bunny, you don't need to answer. Miss was so mean, wasn't he? Awh poor baby, he made such a mess of you."

"Oh she loves it, don't you baby' The hand previously on your throat spread across your face, hooking three fingers in your mouth. Han pulled open your jaw so spit pooled and ran down your face. The sounds of your moans leaving your open mouth made Han hard all over again.

"One more for me baby, Just one more for Mommy, I know you can." You nodded as best you could. "Good girl bunny"

Felix gave it everything he got. Shoving your knees further into your chest, he spread you painfully open as he took his new position. He pistoned in and out like a machine perfectly programmed for you. You shook so hard Han's grip was going to bruise in the morning. You came with a scream as a low groan indicated Felix was emptying into you.

"Fuck bunny..fuck" Felix wore a drunken smile.

"Here baby, let me help you" Han slowly unfolded you like a piece of tissue paper. He felt a bit bad when he heard your joints pop.

"Where's Mommy?" your slurry speech made Han smile, pulling you closer to his chest.

"I'm right here bunny, is Miss comfy?"

"Mhmmm" The two shared a look of absolute love.

"How far gone is she?" Felix whispered to Han as he lifted you.

"Pretty far, the bath will help. I'm okay with an extra snuggly bunny though." He brushed your spit-dried hair back.

"Our little Bunny" Felix kissed your nose, whisking you off to the bathtub.

The Sweetest Batch: @goblinracha, @xx3rachaslutxx, @j-onedrabbles, @lixiesweetbrownie, @marrivmel,@lyramundana, @raaaaaaahhhh

#stray kids #skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #Lee Felix #Han Jisung Smut #Lee Felix Smut #Han Jisung #Dom Felix #Dom Jisung #Mommy Felix #Miss Jisung

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mochinomnoms · 1 year ago

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Hi, there :D

I saw the hanahaki event and I found your ideas about the disease interesting so I want to place my resquest:

Type: Romantic, hurt and fluff

Reader: Female but neutral it's okay 👍

Promt: "Here, your favorite flower! Hmm? Where'd I get them? Uh, I just found them, around..."

With Silver

silver x f!reader [tags] – fluff, hurt/comfort [wc} – 2,423 prompt 13: “Here, your favorite flower! Hmm? Where'd I get them? Uh, I just found them, around…” note - hi! went over wc, it's fine. i hope i got the hurt part down? a floral inconvenience

Gardenias - They are often given as a gesture of love and affection, making them popular in wedding bouquets and romantic arrangements.

Peonies - peonies are often associated with love, romance, and prosperity. It symbolizes deep affection, good fortune, and a flourishing relationship.

You attempted to floss out something that had gotten stuck on your teeth during your last coughing fit at lunch. You hadn’t realized that whatever it was was falling out of your mouth while you and Ace argued about who would be speaking during your history presentation until Deuce pointed them out.

“Uh, Prefect? You got—” He tapped the corner of his mouth. “—you got a little something there.”

You’d swiped at your mouth, confused from where the petal came from, until you started hacking up flowers. Now you were sitting in the infirmary room with a concerned, but slightly amused Lilia, who decided to escort you to the nurse after seeing your three gaggle of friends panic.

Grim in particular seemed convinced that you’d been cursed and were turning into a tree as punishment for his hubris.

“There, there my dear.” Lilia rubbed a soothing hand along your back as you coughed up another flower. Gardenia flowers, evidently. “It’ll pass, happens to many people during the spring season.”

You gagged as you finally cleared your throat of phlegm and petals. Looking down on your lap, you had what was basically a full bouquet of white, full bloom gardenias. A bit moist from your saliva, but fairly pretty flowers.

“Egh, what like seasonal allergies?” you asked, murmuring a thanks as the fae handed you the warm cup of soothing potion the nurse left you.

“You could say that. Spring is the most ideal time of the year for youngins to be twitterpated!”

You raised a brow at Lilia, who was smirking at you cheekily. “So, you want to tell me who’s the lucky man that’s caught the attention of the school’s only young woman?”

“Huh? What do you mean? Twitterpated?”

Lilia’s smile dropped, a more pensive, thoughtful look on his face now as he hummed. “I suppose you wouldn’t know, seeing as it’s a magical sickness.”

Lilia turned to face you as he carefully grabbed one of the gardenias, twirling it in his hands as he explained.

“Hanahaki disease is an illness that typically occurs in the springtime among young individuals whose hearts are so full of love for the object of their affection that their love starts taking physical form as their loved one’s favorite flora, typically flowers. But always the most pristine, beautiful version of it.”

He chuckled at your reddening face as he continued, “It can be typically treated by confessing your love, or it will go away on its own after a while. There are a few cases where it can become chronic, but that’s rare.”

“Cool, cool, cool. So how long specifically until it goes away?”

Lilia dropped the flower in shock, turning to look at you with disbelief.

“What?” you blurted, hastily grabbing the flowers to toss them in the trashcan by the bed. “You said a while, so like a week? Two? I can even do three—”

“Why would you wait when you can get it over with, with just a few words?” Lilia looked disappointed, almost pouting as he crossed his arms.

“Take this as an opportunity to get this off your chest. That’s how the sickness feeds, even if they don’t accept and say no—”

“But I don’t want him to say no!” You whispered, interrupting Lilia mid-sentence as he saw how somber you looked. “I-I can’t. I don’t think I could handle hearing him reject me. I don’t want to ruin what we already have.”

You fiddled with your fingers as you continued, “Even then, if he says yes, what will happen when I go home? Will I just leave him here, alone? After I’ve taken a piece of his heart for myself?”

Sighing, you shut your eyes as you rubbed them, setting into an emotional exhaustion.

“I wouldn’t want to do that to him either.”

Lilia stayed silent as he watched you lay down in the bed, arm stretched over to shield your eyes from the mid-afternoon sun seeping through the window. He reached down to pick up the flower he’d dropped earlier, twirling it in his fingers once again.

Switching his gaze to observe you, Lilia’s eyes darted between you and the flower. Then, like a light switch flipped on in his head, he brightened as realization dawned on his features.

“Gardenias, hmm?” He purred, suddenly giddy.

“Hmm? Gardeni-whats?”

“Oh, nothing.” Lilia chirped, smiling as you peaked an eye out. “The flower you’re producing. He must like gardenias is all.”

You hummed in response, making a startled noise as Lilia grabbed your hand and wrapped your fingers around the stem.

“How about you head back to your dorm for the rest of the day? I’m sure Nurse Goethel would be happy to write you a note for your classes.”

Lilia waved at the nurse who smiled and nodded in affirmation.

“Go home, I’ll make sure to send you a few things later this week to lift your mood!” Lilia chirped, patting your head before floating out of the infirmary with a self-satisfied smile.

Goethel had emailed your excuse, sent you with another soothing potion for your throat before the next bell rang. By then you were already sitting on the dusty lounge couch, texting back an angry Ace, who ended up having to do the presentation by himself.

@traaaaaaaaapola: boo u whore i cant believe u got sic specifically to not do the presentation smh @deuce♠️: dont call her a whore @traaaaaaaaapola: i mean it affectionately, u whore @deuce♠️: dont call me a whore @traaaaaaaaapola: whore @traaaaaaaaapola: kladsjaljs65&^(_)H)*H(R*F*F%DHElp;lksglka;sga’jm @notaschooltherapist: u good? @traaaaaaaaapola: ace is not available to come to the phone rn, please try again later 😊 @notaschooltherapist: lol rip

You sighed and looked at the single gardenia in the cheap glass vase you got from Sam’s while picking up some soup for your throat. You hoped that Grim wouldn’t mind that you took some of his tuna money for it.

The light from the setting sun shone through the window, making the white petals a silvery glow, mocking you.

You felt the tickle of petals creeping up your throat as you coughed up three more gardenias. Gagging, you stood up and grabbed the offending flowers to rinse the spit off in the kitchen. As you were placing them to join the first in the vase, a knock at the door alerted you to a visitor.

“Ah, gimme a sec!” you called out (a bit hoarsely from the earlier fit), walking over to the entrance to greet your visitor with a smile. That was until your heart leapt into your chest as the door opened, Silver entering with a paper bag in hand.

“Y/N? Where—ah.” Silver gave a soft smile as he noticed you in the living room. “There you are. Lilia told me you were sick, he said that you might need some help?”

That sneaky little—

“Oh! Um—ahem—sorry my throat is sore, um.” You stuttered nervously, shifting in your spot as you remembered the flowers behind you.

Silver was still giving you that gentle smile that made your heart pitter-patter like a bird as he walked to the kitchen to unpack the bag, placing an amber colored potion on the counter, some water bottles, and more cans of soup.

While his back was turned, you swiftly snuck the vase under the coffee table, covering it up with the raggedy table cloth.

Once you were assured that the bouquet was sufficiently hidden, you walked over to meet Silver in the kitchen.

“Um, yeah. It’s nothing though, I didn’t realize he was gonna send you over.”

“Ah, well he didn’t really.” Silver blushed, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “I woke up just to hear him mention that you weren’t feeling well, I just wanted to come check up on you.”

“Oh!” You felt your cheeks warm at that. “That’s so nice of you, thanks.”

That led you to this moment, wanting to curse whatever deity existed in Twisted Wonderland for putting you in this situation. For the last four weeks, Silver had been visiting you in the morning, noon, and evening with a fresh new honey-colored potion to accompany your meal.

After a certain point, Silver had started falling asleep outside of your dorm, classrooms, and even the bathroom during your coughing fit. Waiting to hand you another soothing elixr.

It was sweet. It really was. It just sucked that every single interaction with him ended with your heart pounding in your chest and gardenias popping out of your mouth like some sort of illusionist.

Silver, in his unending kindness, started checking in more often, not realizing that he was the one making it worse. It had gotten so bad that small blooms started popping out of your ears and your head.

Every single time you yanked the offending flowers out and threw them away in the nearest trash can or fireplace. But, it seemed that the Hanahaki sensed your animosity, because it became harder to hide.

Everytime you locked eyes with Silver across a busy hall, the ground beneath you would bloom white flowers. Everytime you heard his voice as you passed a classroom, petals fell from the tips of your fingers.

Even the mere mention of his name caused an entire gardenia bush to sprout next to you, which actually wasn’t the most disruptive thing to have happened during yours and Hornton’s nightly walks.

Similar to Lilia, he recommended that you take advantage of the flowers and confess.

“After all, why not make a blessing out of a curse? Much easier than unnecessarily prolonging your suffering, yes?”

Hornton’s words echoed through your head as you lay across your shabby couch, head smashed into the cushions as you groaned.

As you turned to lay on your side, you noticed lush, white flowers underneath the coffee table. Crawling to investigate, you’re met with the small gardenia bouquet you’d hidden nearly a month ago when Silver first came to care for you.

Reaching for the vase, you were surprised that they were in such great condition, considering you forgot about them and left them to suffer under the dusty dark table. In fact, the blooms seemed to have grown.

It looked like one of those fancy Valentine’s bouquets you’d see at flower shops.

Lilia and Hornton’s words echoed in your mind.

Their love starts taking physical form as their loved one’s favorite flora, typically flowers.

Why not make a blessing out of a curse?

Maybe you didn’t need to explicitly confess, but perhaps getting this off your chest would help some.

The next morning, you greeted Silver bright and early. His face of surprise was endearing as you whipped the door open, his hand raised and posed to knock.

Before he could utter a simple ‘good morning’, you shoved the bouquet of large, waxy cream flowers into his hands.

"Here, your favorite flower!”

Silver held the bouquet in his hands, slightly puzzled with a soft blush on his cheeks,

“O-oh, may I ask what for?”

“For helping me with my sickness all month.” You replied, clenching and unclenching your fist behind your back. “To show my appreciation and…uh—um…you know. That stuff.”

You were hoping and praying that indirectly admitting your feelings, rather than outright admitting you loved him, would do the trick.

Silver looked pleased, almost flustered as he met your eyes with his own auroral ones.

“That’s kind of you, Y/N.” He smiled bashfully, eyes crinkling ever so beautifully. “Can I ask, where’d you get them?”

You thinned your lips before popping them and answering, “Uh, I just found them, around…"

“Interesting.” He admired the flowers, rubbing a soft petal between his fingertips. “They’re not in season this time around, they’re a summer flower…you really lucked out with these ones.”

Your heart stopped as he lifted the gardenias to sniff their aroma, whispering under his breath, “I really lucked out with you, hm?”

Like a tidal wave smashing against a rocky shore, your entire body warmed as you realized that you really were completely, foolishly in love with the man in front of you. Your heart resumed beating, harder and faster this time like a patient in cardiac arrest. Your mind felt like it flew out of your head to sing in delight. Your throat tickled as it—wait.

Your throat tickled. Your throat was tickling.

Before you could turn to run somewhere private, like your bedroom or bathroom, you started coughing up a flurry of petals. The wood beneath your feet was slightly breaking as pinwheel shaped flowers emerged from the ground, crawling up the doorframe, as well as yours and Silver’s legs.

The white bulbs popped up between hair strands, creating the illusion of a flower crown, and finally another large, magnificent gardenia bouquet fell out of your mouth.

Breathing heavily from the lack of air, you shakily held your flowers as you looked up to see Silver’s shocked face.

“D-did you just? Are those gardenias—hanakhaki.” He sputtered in realization, looking back and forth between the gardenias and you. “They came from you?.”

“I’m sorry!” You blurted out, tears starting to form as you shut your eyes, afraid to make eye contact. “I was trying to make them go away, but they just wouldn’t, and got worse and worse until I-I-I—mpft!”

Silver’s lips covered yours, effectively shutting you up mid-rant. You yelped as his arms snaked around your waist, tightening until you were pressed up against him. Whimpering into his mouth as he deepened the kiss, you wrapped your own arms around his neck, warmth spreading into your body as he let out a pleased hum.

You two parted, though your arms still kept each other entwined in each other’s embrace. Silver’s arms tightened as he pressed your foreheads together, sighing.

“I wish you’d told me sooner, I felt awful knowing you were sick and there wasn’t anything I could do to fix it.”

Hiding your face in his neck, you murmured, “I’m sorry, I was just scared that you didn’t feel the same way. That I’d ruin our friendship”

“It’s funny, I thought the same thing. I wanted to wait it out, make sure I didn’t make you uncomfortable” Silver chuckled, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles on the small of your back. “But peonies are your favorite, right?

Reaching down to pull a delicate, pink peony that remained in perfect condition despite being in his pocket, he continued.

“I started coughing these up a few weeks ago, they go well with the gardenias, don’t they?”

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst silver #silver x reader #twst silver x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #a floral inconvenience #mochi requests

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