#AND it looks like we might have clear skies?!

[bubblesthemonsterartist]

i told the stars about you

The wide expanse of stars twinkle outside her window, glittering like goldstone. Shirayuki wonders if it’s her imagination or if the skies in the North truly are more arresting. The nights of Wistal were beautiful, yes, but fogged by firelight, paler perhaps than the shades of blue and purple she can make out here. Or was she just not looking? Her impressions could be shaded by the rarity of a clear evening in the North, or perhaps the memory of those early years in Clarines have faded. And yet-

And yet something about this night sky in particular strikes her.

She hugs herself, the heat of another body still soaked into hers long after they’ve returned to their respective rooms. Long after she has changed into her nightgown and set aside all the accoutrements of professionalism, brushing her hair until it crackled with static. Long after she stationed herself at this window, looking up to once familiar stars for answers.

Emotionally exhausted, but... happy. So, so happy.

It must be her imagination how she can still smell the wool and leather and wild that never quite left him. Can still feel his broad hand alighted upon her back, tentative as if anything more might break him. Can still feel the shape of his words murmured against her ear.

“Keep this?”

Shirayuki’s eyes squeeze shut, tight as the fist in her chest. Always, always, she would never think to do otherwise. She would keep it, treasure it, honor the bravery it took him to offer it.

Her grip tightens on herself, but it’s- not the same, not enough.

She can bear it no longer.

Shirayuki spins on her heels, flying towards the door connecting their rooms. Without a moments pause, she flings it open and there—

There are two wide eyes, staring into hers, hand hovering in the space between them.

“Oh. Miss. I—”

“Obi! I- Earlier. We were interrupted and I just thought—”

…that our hug wasn’t finished.

Embarrassment starts to creep up her neck, disbelief at her own reasoning. Hands flutter helplessly in that too large of an expanse between them, and she grasps at nothing for words, hoping to catch a more rational thought. But then she looks up at him, helpless. Between the two of them, he was always the better one at reading her meaning when she didn’t know what to say, and—

His eyes are red at the corners, glossy in the dim light.

The air pulls out of her lungs. He hugged her before. Just an hour ago. Held her, even. So she doesn’t think, she just… flings herself forward, arms wrapping themselves around his middle. He must’ve taken his night gown from Eisetsu’s place, the silk feels familiar. Far better than either of them could afford. She’s half a mind to scold him for stealing from their host, but—

But his ribs collapse under her hold, spine rounding as his body curls over hers. He pulls her closer. So, so gingerly. She doesn’t know how to tell him that her body can take his strength, too. That he can- that he can hold her the way his body needs.

He sucks a breath next to her ear as if in pain and alarm spikes up her spine. Did she hurt him??? Shirayuki braces her palms against his arms, arching backwards to take a look—

His hand tangles in her hair, pressing her face tight to his chest.

“Obi?” Her voice is muffled against his collarbone, sight blocked by the dark fabric of his clothes.

“Miss,” he breathes, voice hoarse, and it’s only now that she feels how he shakes, how he trembles, and—

Wetness spills onto her cheek. It’s not hers.

Not yet at least.

“I thought--” she chokes, wrapping her arms around him once more-- “that we weren’t done hugging it out yet.”

Laughter rattles out of him, his thumb stroking a line along the nape of her neck. “No, Miss.” Obi sniffs, his cheek resting against the crown of her head, and her eyes well. He can’t cry because that means she has to cry, too. “I don’t think we were.”

[mozart-the-meerkitten]

Happy Day of Black Sun to everyone getting to see the eclipse. May your invasion of the Fire Nation be a success.

[jadevine]

Preindustrial travel, and long explanations on why different distances are like that

Update March 1, 2024: Hey there folks, here's yet another update! I reposted Part 2a (the "medieval warhorses" tangent) to my writing blog, and I went down MORE of the horse-knowledge rabbit hole! https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/741423906984951808/my-post-got-cut-off-so-i-added-the-rest-of-it Update Jan 30, 2024: Hey folks, I've posted the updated version of this post on my blog, so I don't have to keep frantically telling everyone "hey, that's the old version of this post!" https://thebalangay.wordpress.com/2024/01/29/preindustrial-travel-times-part-1/

I should get the posts about army travel times and camp followers reformatted and posted to my blog around the end of the week, so I'll filter through my extremely tangled thread for them.

Part 2 - Preindustrial ARMY travel times: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/739342239113871360/now-for-a-key-aspect-that-many-people-often-ask

Part 2a - How realistic warhorses look and act, because the myth of "all knights were mounted on huge clunky draft horses" just refuses to die: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/732043691180605440/helpful-things-for-action-writers-to-remember

Part 3 - Additional note about camp followers being regular workers AND sex-workers: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/740604203134828544/reblogging-the-time-looped-version-of-my

--

I saw a post on my main blog about how hiking groups need to keep pace with their slowest member, but many hikers mistakenly think that the point of hiking is "get from Point A to Point B as fast as possible" instead of "spending time outdoors in nature with friends," and then they complain that a new/less-experienced/sick/disabled hiker is spoiling their time-frame by constantly needing breaks, or huffing and puffing to catch up.

I run into a related question of "how long does it take to travel from Point A to Point B on horseback?" a lot, as a fantasy writer who wants to be SEMI-realistic; in the Western world at least, our post-industrial minds have largely forgotten what it's like to travel, both on our own feet and in groups.

People ask the new writer, "well, who in your cast is traveling? Is getting to Point B an emergency or not? What time of year is it?", and the newbies often get confused as to why they need so much information for "travel times." Maybe new writers see lists of "preindustrial travel times" like a primitive version of Google Maps, where all you need to do is plug in Point A and Point B.

But see, Google Maps DOES account for traveling delays, like different routes, constructions, accidents, and weather; you as the person will also need to figure in whether you're driving a car versus taking a bus/train, and so you'll need to figure out parking time or waiting time for the bus/train to actually GET THERE.

The difference between us and preindustrial travelers is that 1) we can outsource the calculations now, 2) we often travel for FUN instead of necessity.

The general rule of thumb for preindustrial times is that a healthy and prime-aged adult on foot, or a rider/horse pair of fit and prime-aged adults, can usually make 20-30 miles per day, in fair weather and on good terrain.

Why is this so specific? Because not everyone in preindustrial times was fit, not everyone was healthy, not everyone was between the ages of 20-35ish, and not everyone had nice clear skies and good terrain to travel on.

If you are too far below 18 years old or too far past 40, at best you will need either a slower pace or more frequent breaks to cover the same distance, and at worst you'll cut the travel distance in half to 10 or so miles. Too much walking is VERY BAD on too-young/old knees, and teenagers or very short adults may just have short legs even if they're fine with 8-10 hours of actual walking. Young children may get sick of walking and pitch a fit because THEY'RE TIREDDDDDDDDDD, and then you might need to stay put while they cry it out, or an adult may sigh and haul them over their shoulder (and therefore be weighed down by about 50lbs of Angry Child).

Heavy forests, wetlands and rocky hills/mountains are also going to be a much shorter "distance" per day. For forests or wetlands, you have to account for a lot of villagers going "who's gonna cut down acres of trees for one road? NOT ME," or "who's gonna drain acres of swamp for one road? NOT ME." Mountainous regions have their traveling time eaten by going UP, or finding a safer path that goes AROUND, so by the time you're done slogging through drier patches of wetlands or squeezing through trees, a deceptively short 10-15 miles in rough terrain might take you a whole day to walk instead of the usual half-day.

If you are traveling in freezing winters or during a rainstorm (and this inherently means you HAVE NO CHOICE, because nobody in preindustrial times would travel in bad weather if they could help it), you run the high risk of losing your way and then dying of exposure or slipping and breaking your neck, just a few miles out of the town/village.

Traveling in TOO-HOT weather is just as bad, because pushing yourself too hard and getting dehydrated at noon in the tropics will literally kill you. It's called heat-STROKE, not "heat-PARTY."

And now for the upper range of "traveling on horseback!"

Fully mounted groups can usually make 30-40 miles per day between Point A and Point B, but I find there are two unspoken requirements: "Point B must have enough food for all those people and horses," and "the mounted party DOESN'T need to keep pace with foot soldiers, camp followers, or supply wagons."

This means your mounted party would be traveling to 1) a rendezvous point like an ally's camp or a noble's castle, or 2) a town/city with plenty of inns. Maybe they're not literally going 30-40 miles in one trip, but they're scouting the area for 15-20 miles and then returning to their main group. Perhaps they'd be going to an allied village, but even a relatively small group of 10-20 warhorses will need 10-20 pounds of grain EACH and 20-30 pounds of hay EACH. 100-400 pounds of grain and 200-600 pounds of hay for the horses alone means that you need to stash supplies at the village beforehand, or the village needs to be a very large/prosperous one to have a guaranteed large surplus of food.

A dead sprint of 50-60 miles per day is possible for a preindustrial mounted pair, IF YOU REALLY, REALLY HAVE TO. Moreover, that is for ONE day. Many articles agree that 40 miles per day is already a hard ride, so 50-60 miles is REALLY pushing the envelope on horse and rider limits.

NOTE: While modern-day endurance rides routinely go for 50-100 miles in one day, remember that a preindustrial rider will not have the medical/logistical support that a modern endurance rider and their horse does.

If you say "they went fifty miles in a day" in most preindustrial times, the horse and rider's bodies will get wrecked. Either the person, their horse, or both, risk dying of exhaustion or getting disabled from the strain.

Whether you and your horse are fit enough to handle it and "only" have several days of defenselessness from severe pain/fatigue (and thus rely on family/friends to help you out), or you die as a heroic sacrifice, or you aren't QUITE fit enough and become disabled, or you get flat-out saved by magic or another rider who volunteers to go the other half, going past 40 miles in a day is a "Gondor Calls For Aid" level of emergency.

As a writer, I feel this kind of feat should be placed VERY carefully in a story: Either at the beginning to kick the plot off, at the climax to turn the tide, or at the end.

Preindustrial people were people--some treated their horses as tools/vehicles, and didn't care if they were killed or disabled by pushing them to their limits, but others very much cared for their horses. They needed to keep them in working condition for about 15-20 years, and they would not dream of doing this without a VERY good reason.

—

UPDATE January 13: Several people have gotten curious and looked at maps, to find out how a lot of cities are indeed spread out at a nice distance of 20-30 miles apart! I love getting people interested in my hyperfixations, lol.

But remember that this is the space between CITIES AND TOWNS. There should never be a 20-mile stretch of empty wilderness between City A and Town B, unless your world explains why folks are able to build a city in the middle of nowhere, or if something has specifically gone wrong to wipe out its supporting villages!

Period pieces often portray a shining city rising from a sea of picturesque empty land, without a single grain field or cow pasture in sight, but that city would starve to death very quickly in preindustrial times.

Why? Because as Bret Devereaux mentions in his “Lonely Cities” article (https://acoup.blog/2019/07/12/collections-the-lonely-city-part-i-the-ideal-city/), preindustrial cities and towns must have nearby villages (and even smaller towns, if large and prosperous enough!) to grow their food for them.

The settlements around a city will usually be scattered a few miles apart from each other, usually clustered along the roads to the city gates. Those villages and towns at the halfway point between cities (say 10-15 miles) are going to be essential stops for older/sick folks, merchants with cargo, and large groups like noble’s retinues and army forces.

Preindustrial armies and large noble retinues usually can’t make it far past 10-12 miles per day, as denoted in my addition to this post. (https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/739342239113871360/now-for-a-key-aspect-that-many-people-often-ask )

[llamagoddessofficial]

Oh Dearest Horror I would love to go on a multi day winter hike with you ❤️❤️❤️

"warm?"

Horror's voice was so very soft. With your back against his chest, you could feel it pleasantly reverberating through your whole body.

How could you be any warmer? Though your breaths escaped in puffs of steam, you were cuddled in his lap, your hood pulled down over your head. You wore a heavy knitted sweater lined with fur and cotton, a blanket Horror had carried the whole way wrapped snugly around you, his own huge arms tucked around your middle, and his massive thick wings laid over the top like your very own fluffy down blanket. Snowflakes still speckled the mottled browns and blacks. He was so comfy - he felt so secure, he smelled like delicious cooked meat and home. With how snuggled you were against him, you couldn't have possibly felt more secure or safe.

"Yes." You assured, rubbing the thumb of your gloved hand over the forearm locked around your middle. "I'm very very warm."

He purred, gently. It was like sitting in a massage chair. "ok."

You looked up, admiring the scenery. Horror always knew the best places. But this place was particularly nice. He'd led you into a forest of willow trees, their branches frozen in a way you'd never seen before - rather than being loaded with snow, they were laden with droplets of clear ice that twinkled like a sea of hanging crystals. He eventually settled into a clearing, laying down his bags and setting out a tarp so he could sit with his back against a tree.

He had invited you to sit beside him. You picked his lap instead.

"This place is beautiful." Years of wandering in his free time had made him intimately familiar with a landscape not many dared to see. You felt flattered every time he expressed that he wanted you to join him on his hikes. "I'm glad you brought me here."

"just wait," he murmured. "trust me."

You didn't need to be told twice. You nestled against him, eyes getting heavy. Comfortable silence covered the two of you, like just another lovely blanket.

After a little while, the aurora started to emerge from the sky. It snaked across the darkness above you, a ghostly flickering slowly gaining power and colour - a trickle increasing into a stream, then a river, then a silent rushing current of green fire full of its usual glory. You watched it in quiet, cosy delight.

Something in the corner of your vision. A twinkling. At first, you thought it might just be the aurora into the backs of your eyes. But it was too sharp for that. You stopped watching the sky, glancing down to the surrounding forest instead.

The ice hanging from the trees was beginning to glimmer. You drew in a breath. The light was catching in the icicles; they were all beginning to twinkle, new stars emerging from the once-dark woods surrounding you.

... Then the aurora gained strength. And the icicles started to reflect.

You gasped; every icicle that could see the sky was shining, casting sparkles of blue and green onto the snow below, a ring of coloured flecks that slowly shifted and circled as the aurora moved. Like a sunrise, the collective glow of the reflections began to set the whole forest alight - all around you, light and colours, rainbows as far as your eyes could see. A sea of stars across the snow, casting away into the distance.

There were two night skies. One above, and one all around you.

Horror seemed to like your reaction. He nestled his chin onto the top of your head, purring just that bit more.

"knew... you'd like this."

"I-I do," you replied, unable to look away from the lights. It was like being inside a gemstone. "I really do. How did you... know about this place?"

You felt his warm breath across your hair. "found it. thought of you."

"So we're the only ones who know this is here?"

"mhm."

"It's magical."

"s'ours."

You leant back against his chest, breathless. "Can we stay here until the aurora sets?"

A hum of affirmation.

You wriggled somewhat - you tugged one of your gloves off and poked your bare hand out from under the blanket. Still beneath his wings, you found the large clawed hand of the big comfy arm wrapped around you, touching the top of his palm.

He let out a sound you'd come to call his 'happy grumble'. To the untrained ear, it seemed like a growl. But it was a sound of unfiltered delight.

He turned his hand over, and enclosed yours in his own.

You stayed like that, as close to 'hand in hand' as the two of you could get... even well after you'd already fallen asleep.

[obaex]

the blind date - rafe cameron

summary: your friends set you and rafe up on a blind date, but it doesn't go quite as you'd expected.

words: 1.7k

a/n: based on this request ♡♡ the way this has me giggling and kicking my feet in the air - ahhhh!

“Alright lemme make sure I have this straight: unlimited access to your jet skis for the rest of the summer, your season tickets to the first two Panthers home games, and two cases of whatever beer I want?” Rafe confirmed, looking over to the driver’s seat at his friend Dylan who huffed in reply and rubbed a hand over his face.

“Yes, dude, that’s what we agreed on. Christ, it’s a blind date, not a death sentence. I swear to God if Maddie didn’t put me up to this, I would’ve left your ass to wallow at home alone.”

“I’m doing you a favor” Rafe replied, “It’s the least you could do.”

“I’m telling you she’s hot, you know you might actually be into her, did you even consider that?”

Rafe looked at him completely perplexed. “What makes you think I’m even looking for a girl? I do just fine as it is, thank you very much, plus you and I have very different tastes.” A pause. “Can I please see her insta?”

“We’ve been over this. No. Maddie said it would defeat the purpose of the ‘blind’ part of a blind date.”

“So fucking stupid” Rafe said as he shook his head and looked out the passenger side window.

You had gotten to the restaurant early; your best friend Maddie wanted to make sure every little thing was perfect and she was practically bubbling over with excited energy at the prospect of your blind date.

“This is going to be amazing, I just know it!!!” she said enthusiastically. “He is so your type, I will be at your wedding, babes, I swear it! Ahhh!” She had pulled you into the bathroom and was fluffing up your hair, touching up your lip gloss and tugging at your dress.

“So happy you went with this one, like yes you will thank me later, you look so damn hot.”

For all her flustered energy, you appreciated her hype and as you looked in the mirror you kinda had to agree with her. She had helped with your hair and makeup and the result was truly stunning; you had just the right amount of makeup on to make your natural beauty pop. Your dress was a little more revealing than you were used to, but it did make you feel confident and who knows, the way she talked about this guy, maybe it would all work out?

“Okay, okay, enough fussing, I’m already nervous enough. Can we please get a drink? I need a drink” you said, moving to walk out of the bathroom as she checked her own appearance in the mirror one last time before following you.

“Yes, good idea, you go loosen up, I’m going to make sure they got us that table by the window.”

You sidled up to the bar and leaned your arms on it, happy to have a moment’s reprieve from Maddie’s frenetic energy as you looked around in an attempt to distract yourself. The restaurant was really cute, coastal and modern and there was a sizable crowd between the bar and dining area. The steady thump of tropical house music played softly in the background which calmed your nerves and lifted your mood.

Within moments the bartender spotted you and made his way over. He was just about to greet you when he glanced over your shoulder. “Rafe! What’s up!” he said enthusiastically. “So sorry m’am, just one moment” he apologized as he clapped hands with the tall stranger that had walked up beside you. “What can I get you, bro?”

Rafe was smiling at the bartender and glanced at you briefly when he realized you’d been snubbed. It was a quick glance but he did a double take before he could control himself. You were… simply perfect. Your face held an expression of amusement and surprise with a clear smile that rested on perfectly glossed lips. You had an effortless air about you like you woke up every morning looking that good and then immediately every part of him wanted to know what you’d really look like in the morning… in his bed… at Tanneyhill… the sun reaching through the blinds…

What the fuck is the matter with me? he thought suddenly. And then, Fuck. Was I staring?

The bartender was looking at him expectantly with an eyebrow raised. He asked me something. Drink. A drink. What do I want to drink?

“Yeah man, I’ll have a bourbon, neat, and uh, whatever she wants” he replied, nodding his head towards you.

You smirked at him before glancing at the bartender, “Spicy margarita please, and since he’s paying, I’ll take it with Patrón.”

“Oof” Rafe said, grabbing his chest with his hand like you’d delivered a physical blow to him, “Way to take advantage.”

You laughed and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Yeah, well, I don’t believe in coincidences, and it just so happens I need some liquid courage. If a handsome stranger is offering, I’m taking top shelf.”

Rafe pursed his lips and nodded, trying to tamp down the feeling in his heart that you'd called him handsome. He glanced back towards the door to see if he could see Dylan and couldn’t find him. Good he thought, allowing himself to feel guilty for half a second until he refocused on the sight of you in front of him.

He cleared his throat. “So, uh, liquid courage?” he asked.

“I’m meeting a date here actually” you said, shaking your head, your blushed cheeks turning slightly rosier. “It’s a whole thing…” you trailed off, waving your hand dismissively.

Rafe couldn’t reason with himself why he felt so angry that you were here for someone else. Thankfully the drinks arrived which gave him a moment to process as he watched you take a deep sip of your drink.

‘What asshole doesn’t pick a girl up and take her on the date himself?’ he thought. Well, he thought he thought before he realized he’d said it out loud as you nearly choked on your drink in laughter.

You shook your head again, smiling and laughing “It’s not like that, it’s –”

“—Nah, I’m sorry, it’s not my business, I shouldn’t have said that” he interrupted, mortified that he'd let that slip.

“You’re fine” you reassured him. “It was sweet. It’s nice to know there are still decent men out there willing to keep things chivalrous.”

I would’ve picked you up he thought. On time. Walked to your front door. Flowers in hand.

His head was spinning. What the fuck is going on with me. He looked down at his drink and then drank it in one swig. When he set the glass down, he caught your look of amusement as he coughed.

“You good?” you asked, giggling.

He grimaced, “I will be” he said, holding up his empty to signal the bartender for another.

“Is my company that bad?” you joked.

His eyes darted to yours, “Quite the opposite, sweetheart” he said in a low voice that you felt from your beating heart to your fingertips to your belly and shaky knees. Shit you thought as you registered the effect this man had on you.

You blushed and met his warm gaze, realizing for the first time how deeply blue his eyes were, like sapphires. The two of you stood there, an arms-length away and it was like time stood still. You could feel your pulse in your throat, feel your body tingling like it was physically reacting to his proximity. Was he stepping closer to you or were you imagining it? His eyes left yours for only an instant to look at your lips and in that moment he had you hook line and sinker.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed on the bar in front of you and you jumped. He took an imperceptible step back, clearing his throat.

“S-sorry” you mumbled, quickly swiping open a text from Maddie: ‘Where r u?!!!!”

Shit.

“I-I’ve got to…” you waved your phone by way of excuse and nodded your head towards the tables, literally unable to string a sentence together at this point.

“Yeah, no problem” Rafe said, as casually as he could muster as you moved to leave. “Try to have a good time. And, hey” he said, capturing your attention one more time “Tell this guy he better give you a ride next time, okay? None of this high school ‘I’ll meet you there’ shit, okay?”

You laughed at your little inside joke and met his gaze one more time before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

Rafe’s next drink arrived and he slammed it back instantly before settling the tab, leaving a hefty cash tip and making his way towards the dining room.

Dylan fucking owes me he thought through gritted teeth, grimacing all the way through the crowded room, replaying your smile, the way you'd looked at him through thick eyelashes, even the way you’d smelled: like vanilla and coconut.

He was clenching and unclenching his fists as he searched the crowd, willing this godawful date to be over before it had even started. Finally he caught a glimpse of Maddie’s bright hair and Dylan’s frame at a table by the window; he moved to shift around several people when his eyes met yours, seated next to Maddie, across from an empty seat.

“Oh my god” you said, covering your mouth with your hand, stifling a fit of laughter and joy when you caught his eye.

He began to laugh too, the tension in his body immediately dissipating as he rubbed a hand over his face in an attempt to wipe away the goofy grin he felt there as he took his seat.

“What is going on, do you two know each other, what am I missing?” Maddie demanded.

“Nothing, it’s nothing, Mads” you said, giggling as your eyes danced and twinkled at Rafe.

She narrowed her eyes as they darted between the two of you. “Okaayyyyy, well YN, this is Rafe!”

“So, so nice to meet you” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm, though you were thrilled to actually know his name.

“The pleasure is truly mine, sweetheart” he played back, a knowing smile resting on his lips that had you bursting at the seams as you two ogled each other.

Maddie and Dylan looked at you both like you were crazy as you just stared and giggled at one another before they gave up and settled back into their own conversation and you and Rafe picked up your menus.

“Tomorrow at 7:00” Rafe said just quietly enough for you to hear him as he pretended to eye the menu.

“What?” you whispered in reply.

“Be ready tomorrow at 7:00. I’m taking you out. And I’ll be picking you up this time” he said as he shot you a smirk over his menu.

taglist: @ietss, @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @moremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller, @diary-of-jj, @crlsummer

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Musician Age Gap AU Pt 8

"I cannot believe you told my wife your date was with *Lena Luthor*," Alex whispers mid-yell, "before you told me!"

"Would it have changed your recommendation?"

At that, Kara hears Alex pause to consider.

"No," comes the final response. Then, "Did it work?"

Kara flushes-- she'd certainly gotten the reaction she'd been looking for. She just isn't sure she wants her sister to know that they hadn't fully resolved that desire.

"Well enough," Kara returns, settling on an incomplete truth. She'd explain the rest later... eventually.

A muttered curse issues over the line. "Jesus. How did this even happen? Wait-- what happens now? Esme said her next show is in, like... 16 hours, in Denver."

Kara smiles into the phone. "We stay in touch."

She's already received a picture via text, showing Lena with a tongue-out wink and a playful peace sign. Another photo had revealed a sticky bun, with a note that Lena had gotten Jess to swing by Noonan's on the way to the airport.

Though the sight of the sticky bun had made her hungry, the selfie made her pause to absorb the image. From the relaxed tousle of Lena's wavy hair, to the ray-bans hooked on the collar of her shirt, and the luxury of the private plane lurking around the edges.... she wonders if Lena realizes just how far she's letting Kara in, allowing her to see Lena in so personal a setting.

Kara's response had been simple. "Fly safe."

It had earned her a floating heart emoji and a promise to touch base upon landing.

"That's it?" Alex asks, pulling Kara back to the present.

Kara huffs a laugh. "What did you expect? She wasn't going to cancel half a national tour for personal time with someone she only met two days ago."

"Well why not? You're worth it."

"You're only saying that because you're my sister," Kara counters. "Besides, I don't want that for her."

Seeing Lena on stage had proven it's something the woman enjoyed. She thrived on the experience of it, and so did the thousands of fans who came to see her.

Which is why, a few hours after Lena's first Denver show would have concluded, Kara is surprised to receive a call from Lena. They'd facetimed when she'd landed, so the lack of video is her first clue that something isn't right.

"Hey," Kara greets, pressing the phone to her ear as she wipes sleep from her eyes. She'd meant to stay awake to check in herself, but not even a book had been able to keep her from dozing off.

"Hey."

Lena's voice is somber. It's such a difference that a wave of concern wakes Kara the rest of the way.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

There's a short pause before Lena responds. "Nothing."

"How was the show?"

"Fine. I'm sorry, I shouldn't be calling so late. I just... I wanted to hear your voice." Lena pauses again. "Is that weird?"

"No." Kara listens closely to the quiet that follows, as though it might give her some insight into what was happening on the other end of the line. "Lena..."

"Could you... talk to me?"

"About what?"

"Anything. Just... so I can listen."

Kara's brow furrows. She fights the impulse to dig deeper, to push to find the why. She doesn't need to know. Lena has asked for what she needs-- and it's something Kara is able and willing to give.

"Did I ever tell you that I didn't always live in National City?"

Lena hums a negative, prompting Kara to continue.

"I'm actually from a town up the coast. Midvale. I miss it sometimes. The stars mostly. In high school, I had friend named Kenny, and we would take his telescope to the old barn, and we would chart the skies together..."

Kara goes on, relating many and more of the troubles she and Kenny had gotten up to in those days. She was careful to steer clear of his murder, and the bullying they'd both experienced. Lena needed distraction, not more heartache.

As she speaks, Lena hums occasionally, sometimes even giving a chuckle. When the sounds of her following along peters out, Kara pauses to listen if Lena notices the stop. When no reaction comes, Kara smiles to herself.

"Lena?" she asks softly. "Still there?"

No answer comes, but when Kara increases the volume on her phone, she can hear the steady inhale and exhale of sleep. Kara listens for a few heartbeats more.

"Sweet dreams, Lena."

[deanssluvr]

DOUBLE OR NOTHING

PAIRINGS: joost klein x fem!reader ,, ski aggu x fem!reader ,, joost klein x fem!reader x ski aggu

SUMMARY: two frat guys are betting on who can have you first, but why choose when you can have both of them.

WARNINGS: RPF. SMUT. threesome. aftercare. mentions of alcohol.

WORD COUNT: 6k

A/N: i hope you guys enjoy reading this because i loved writing it. not proofread. also fyi aggu’s real name is august for those might be confused when it’s brought up. <3

In the bustling heart of college campus life, two fraternity brothers, Joost and August, stood amidst the raucous energy of a late-night party. This event marked the last night before winter break started, a chance for everyone to get together before they all left campus. It was usually the biggest party of the year, and luckily this year Joost and Aggu were in charge of throwing it. Surprisingly setting up a party was easy since the frat house was almost cleared out. In only a few hours, the entire place was a chaotic mix of red cups, music blasting, and students weaving through a maze of people.

You arrived quite late at your friend's invitation. Now you had wished you had taken her offer for a ride, but your roommates had insisted on pregaming. Luckily it was the point of the night that they were letting in anyone because you left your invite with Sadie. As soon as you stepped inside, your roommates ditched you to find their friends, leaving you to yourself. It was more packed than you expected. The air felt heavy as smoke and sweat filled the room. The house was covered in multiple bright colored lights but soon settled on a dark blue. Now here you were trying to make your way through the large crowd looking for Sadie. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack. As you moved through the crowd, you tapped on a few shoulders thinking they were her. It was awkward every time you touched the wrong person. You gave up after a few minutes and made your way to the drink table.

On the other side of the room, Joost, with a cocky grin, turned to Aggu, who leaned casually against the wall.

"How about a bet?" Joost challenged a mischievous smirk on his face.

Aggu raised an eyebrow, his smirk matching Joost's. A chuckle left his lips. "Sure. Why not. What are we betting?"

Joost's grin widened. "Loser has to clean the entire house tomorrow. Alone."

Aggu’s eyes narrowed but he accepted. “Deal. So, who’s the catch?”

Joost’s eyes scanned the room, finally focusing on you as he watched you look around the drink table. He pointed in your direction. “First one to get with her wins. No sleazy moves, though. We’re talking genuine charm and conversation.”

Aggu nodded, sizing up the competition. "Sounds fair. May the best man win."

The air buzzed with anticipation as the two friends separated and made their way through the crowd of partygoers. Both were determined, but only one would walk away with the number and bragging rights for the semester. Little did they know someone had been listening to their whole conversation. Your friend Sadie quickly made her way across the room before either of them could reach you. Luckily both guys were stopped by what she assumed were friends, putting a brief pause in their plan. She caught you by surprise when she grabbed your arm and pulled you aside. You were a bit confused, but just happy to finally see your friend.

“You will never believe what I heard.” she was shaking with anticipation.

“Hello to you too.” you laughed. “What did you hear?”

“You know those two frat dudes in our math class? Joost and Aggu I believe are their names.” You nodded. They were both relatively popular on campus. Mostly for the parties they throw, but also because of the broken hearts they leave in their tracks. You’ve avoided them for that reason, not wanting to end up with the same fate as the other girls. But you could see why they fall for them so easily. They were both very attractive in their ways. Aggu was a gym rat so he was very buff and fit, but also very soft-spoken and kind despite what people like to believe. Though only you knew that because of the one time you both worked on a project together. On the other hand, Joost was a bit thinner but still very good-looking. He had fluffy blonde, almost white, hair and was littered with tattoos. He also had a cocky attitude to match.

“Well first off, both of them find you really pretty. Second, they made a bet to try and sleep with you.” She smiled at you as if she was proud to have given you this information. On any other occasion with any other guys, you would’ve been disgusted and repulsed at the thought of two guys betting for you. But you did like them and found them very attractive, so you decided to turn this around for yourself.

“Thanks for letting me know.” You smirked and looked around the room. Your eyes landed on them both as you spotted them with their friends.

“So who are you gonna pick? Personally, I couldn’t,” she admitted, pulling your attention back to her.

“I think I’m gonna take both.” You winked. You watched as her expression changed from confusion to surprise. She playfully hit your arm.

“You naughty girl.” she teased. You just shrugged innocently.

Aggu was the first to pry himself away from his friends. He wasn’t contributing much to the conversation anyway. Joost was too deep in said conversation to notice his absence. Sadie peered over your shoulder to see him walking your way.

“Incoming. Good luck.” She giggled and slipped away before you could say anything. Not even a minute later you felt a soft tap on your shoulder. You turned, realizing it was Aggu who was approaching you first. He had a warm, genuine smile on his face. You smiled in return.

“Hey.” He greeted, speaking loud enough to be heard over the music.

“Hey,” you responded as if you were surprised to see him.

“I’m glad you came. I don’t really get to see you outside of class.”

“I mean if you want to see me more, you could just ask.” You both laughed, but something about him seemed off. You turned to pour yourself a drink, but he gently grabbed your arm causing you to drop the ladle.

“I wouldn’t. Joost made it. He dumped whatever we had into that.” You scrunch your nose at it. “Here. Let me get you something else.”

He walked you over to the cooler and opened it revealing various alcoholic and soda beverages. He dug around in it for a moment before pulling out a particular can. He handed it to you.

“Still your favorite right?” What he handed you was your favorite soda. He only knew because you’ve given him one before. During your project, you both were pulling an all-nighter at your dorm. It was late and you both had decided to stop working and just talked. That was the night you learned more about him beyond what other people tell you. And as a nice gesture, you offered him a soda. That moment meant more to him than you’ll ever know.

You were shocked that he still remembered considering that was a year ago, but sweet nonetheless.

“Yeah, it is.” you smiled sheepishly. You opened it and took a sip. Though he was wearing those ski goggles, you could feel his stare. The brief silence soon became apparent as you became more aware of the music again. He leaned into you, his lips barely hovering over your ear.

“Can I take you somewhere quieter?” He asked and put some distance between you both once more. He looked over your face, waiting for an answer. You nodded and he softly grabbed your arm. As he guided you through the crowd, his hand slipped down so now he was holding your wrist. His fingers gently grazed against your palm, sending a slight tingling sensation up your arm. You were glad he was the one guiding you because the crowd seemed to be way more packed than when you first arrived. Your shoulders grazed against random partygoers, but all you could pay attention to was the small connection between you and him.

There was a brief moment where you passed a group of guys. If you hadn't been paying close attention to your surroundings, you wouldn’t have noticed Joost amongst those guys. You saw him share a glance with Aggu and then his eyes fell on you. He forced himself to smile rather than let you see his jealousy. You sent him a quick wave and he raised his cup a bit, waving back. Aggu led you down a hallway that seemed to be noticeably less crowded than the main floor. It was a bit awkward having to pass the people in this space. Most were either smoking or making out against the wall. A lot of them didn’t take notice of either of you as they seemed to be in their world. But those who did see you, glared at you as if you were the odd one. He stopped in front of a doorway and let you step inside. You looked around. The room was quite clean and cozy compared to the rest of the house. It was dim with only a small, warm lamp emitting light. In the middle was an old couch that clearly had been loved. You sat down, sinking into the soft fabric. The loud music outside became nothing more than a gentle hum as he closed the door behind him. He walked over and sat next to you. He watched as you continued to take in your surroundings. He leaned in, his voice soft.

“This is our second living room. No one uses it since it’s not close to the front of the house.” You hummed in response. Turning to look at him, you weren’t expecting him to be so close. You quickly became flustered under his gaze, so you picked up your drink and sipped it. If Joost wasn’t in the question you would give into Aggu right now.

“So how did you remember this?” You gesture to the drink in your hand. He shrugged.

“I try to remember everything about you. And since we don’t hang out, it’s not much.” He paused and thought about what he just said, letting out a small chuckle. “Sorry if that came off creepy.”

You reciprocated his laughter. “No, it's fine. I find it cute that you care about the small things. Not many guys do these days.” He smiled in response. The energy shifted between you. It was less tense and you felt more comfortable around him. And maybe it was how close you were to him, but you swear you felt the air become warmer. You leaned further back into the couch and felt his arm under you, lightly supporting your head. There was silence between you both, but it was a comfortable silence.

“Can I tell you something?” He asked. His voice was softer now.

“Of course.”

“That night in your dorm,” he looked away for a moment, avoiding your gaze. You make him nervous but he’d never tell you. “meant more to me than I'd like to admit.”

“Why? Because we had finally finished our project.” you were joking, but you could see he was serious.

“No. Because for the first time in a long time, it felt like you saw me. Like actually saw me. No front, no expectations. It was just... easy." you couldn’t say anything. You didn’t know what to say. He paused, looking for the right words. He still hasn’t looked back at you. "I guess what I’m trying to say is I like being around you. More than I thought I would. And it’s not just about finishing projects or hanging out because we’re supposed to. It’s more than that."

His honesty hung in the air between you, heavy and sincere. The noise of the party seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you at this moment, the weight of his confession settling into your heart. You moved your hand under his chin and gently lifted it so he was looking at you. He leaned into your touch.

“I wish you had told me earlier because I feel the same way.” He smiled, a little nervous but relieved, as if a burden had been lifted. His hand hesitantly reached out, brushing against yours, a silent question in his touch. The softness in his voice, the way he looked at you. It was clear this wasn’t just another flirtation for him. This was real, and it meant something. Your hand moved to his cheek and your thumb rubbed gently into his skin. He leaned forward, closing the distance between you. Suddenly the door flung open. You both turn to see a guy frantically running into the room.

“Oh. Sorry. I just needed to tell you that something happened upstairs in your room. Some drunk dude and his girl broke your TV.” Aggu sighed and muttered something in German. He looked back at you with sympathetic eyes.

“It’s okay. Go. I needed another drink anyway.” You gave him a reassuring look before he got up to leave. You watched as he and the random guy walked out, and then you were left alone. The energy shifted again since he was gone. The room became noticeably colder and the music started to fade back into your ears. You decided to get up and head back to the main floor. You quickly walked through the awkward hallway as before, though the people didn’t mind you this time around. The music became louder as you made your way into the living room. The crowd didn’t seem any different than when you had stepped away. The idea of trying to find Sadie in this crowd again seemed pointless, so you made your way over to the drink table again. As you weave your way through the crowd, you wish Aggu was here to lead the way as he did earlier. You were bumping into far more people and even caused someone to spill their drink. But eventually, you made it.

Joost was still in the same conversation as earlier but wasn’t talking as much anymore. He was too upset with the idea of you and Aggu. He didn’t want to lose the bet when the night barely started. But he was losing hope with every minute you were spending with him. That all changed when he saw you walking up to the drink table. Alone. He watched as you dug through the cooler. Taking this as an opportunity, he walked up next to you and leaned on the table. You finally found what you were looking for and turned around, but immediately bumped into someone. Their drink fell to the ground.

“I am so sorry.” You looked up to find a familiar face. The worry dissipated and was quickly replaced with relief.

“It’s okay.” He reached down to pick up the now empty cup and tossed it in a nearby trash can. “It wasn’t that good anyways.”

“Didn’t you make it?” you asked.

“I mean yeah. But I never said it was good,” he said playfully, making you giggle. “You know you owe me now.”

You looked at him confused. “For what? Spilling your drink?” he nodded. “I mean I already apologized. What more do you want?”

“Dance with me.” you laughed. You assumed he was joking, but his face told you otherwise.

“Oh. You’re serious.” He nodded. You paused considering his offer. Just pouring him another drink was probably a safer choice, but this option seemed way more fun. “I’d love to.”

He reached his hand out, offering it to you. You hesitated for just a second, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest, then slipped your hand into his. His grip was warm and steady, reassuring in a way that made you feel both safe and exhilarated. With a gentle tug, he guided you through the crowded room, weaving effortlessly between groups of people until you reached the pulsating heart of the dance floor. The music was loud in your ears, the bass thrumming through your veins as you stood within the crowd. The lights flickered above, casting the room in shades of blue and purple that washed over the swaying bodies around you. The energy of the room seemed to only intensify. The beat vibrated in your chest, making it impossible not to dance.

You started to dance, quickly letting the rhythm take control, your hips swaying to the music. The world around you seemed to blur with the people around you fading into the background as you lost yourself in the moment. Then, you felt Joost’s hands, firm yet gentle, slide around your waist. His touch sent a shiver up your spine, grounding you even as the music threatened to carry you away. He pulled you closer, his body aligning with yours, and suddenly it felt like it was only you both on the dance floor. His breath was warm against your ear as he leaned in, the scent of his cologne and faded cigarette smoke mixing with the electric atmosphere. The music pulsed around you, but all you could focus on was the way your bodies moved together, perfectly in sync with the rhythm.

The song changed to something more slow and sensual. And, as if on cue, the lights changed to a deep red causing a noticeable change in energy. Your hips moved to the new rhythm of the song. It was unfamiliar to you, but that didn’t matter. You felt his grip on you tighten as he pulled you closer against him. He dropped his head into the crook of your neck. Your scent was intoxicating and he bit his lip, blocking a groan that threatened to leave. You weren’t stupid, you could feel the tension between you. As well as his bulge pressing against your ass. So you knew it was time for the final step of your plan. You turned around so now you were facing him. He looked as though he was in a haze. His pupils were blown and his lips were parted. You closed the distance between you both only to move to his ear.

“We should go somewhere private.” your voice was hot in his ear and sent goosebumps across his skin. All he could do was nod in response. He led you out of the crowd and up some stairs. You stopped him.

“I want to freshen up a bit before we…” you lied. You just needed to go get Aggu before things got too heated. “Where can I meet you?”

He looked down the hall nearest to you and pointed. “The last room on the right.”

“Okay.” you nodded. “I won’t be long. I promise.”

You gave him a sincere smile and watched as he left. When he was out of your view, you turned and began walking down a hallway in the opposite direction. You were familiar with the layout of the house since most of the time this is where you and Aggu had worked on your project together.

This part of the house was surprisingly empty. Though the trash scattered about and the smell of smoke told a different story. You assumed they cleared the hallway after the incident in Aggu’s room. You continued down the hall until you heard voices. After turning a corner, you saw him. He was leaning against the wall talking to the other guy from earlier. You walked towards them and they were quick to see you. Probably because the clicking of your heels was the loudest sound in the hall. He smiled before turning to his friend to tell him something. You saw him nod and walk away.

“Hey.” he smiled as you walked up to him. “Sorry for taking so long.”

“It’s fine,” you reassured him. Your hands slipped into his and you placed them around your waist. He instinctively pulled you closer to him. “but I was getting bored without you. I want to continue where we left off.” you bit your lip hoping he’d get the hint.

“Oh. Oooh.” It’s like you could hear the gear moving in his head. He was a bit flustered at your eagerness. “Of course.”

“Okay meet me in the room at the end of the hallway across from here.” He looked at you confused. “I’ll meet you there. I just want to freshen up first.”

He nodded before leaving you for the requested destination. You quickly walked further up the hall to the nearest bathroom. It was quite small and the scent of cheap lavender was strong. In front of you was a little sink and a mirror that had multiple cracks in it. You had no time to find another bathroom, so you made do with this one. You rummaged through your purse for your perfume and deodorant to freshen yourself up with like. You also took this opportunity to touch up your makeup. Once you deemed yourself ready, you left the bathroom and headed to the room.

Anticipation built in your chest the closer you got. You were also a bit worried. Sure you were able to lure them in, but what if they don’t want to do this? Hopefully, you’ve played your cards right. As you approached the door, you could hear what sounded like bickering. As expected. They were both under the impression that they won the bet. You took a deep breath and opened the door. Immediately they both went silent as they saw you in the doorway. You hesitantly stepped inside, closing the door behind you.

“Finally. Please tell him that you came here for me.” Joost had his arms crossed over his chest, eyes glaring at Aggu who scoffed in response.

“We were just in the hallway together and she said she wanted me.” he looked at you for support. In fact, both of them did. “Go ahead tell him.”

“You’re both right.” Aggu looked at you in confusion and Joost seemed like he was trying to find the right word, but was coming up empty. “Look. I know about your bet.

Their demeanor changed and they looked defeated and embarrassed. Apologies started to pour from their mouths, but you raised your hand, silencing them.

“I’m not mad about it,” you reassured, which confused them even more.

“Wait. So then why are we here?” Joost asked. You set your bag down on the dresser next to you and walked closer to them, leaving little space between the three of you.

“I thought it’d be more fun if you both won the bet.” It took a minute for it to click. They were both silent for a moment. You could see the hesitation in both of their eyes. You almost thought that this wasn’t going to happen, but then Joost made the first move. He stepped up to you and held your face in his hands. He pulled you into him. The kiss was gentle, but only for a moment as it quickly became hungrier. His tongue swirled with yours, and you could taste the alcohol and faint cigarette smoke that lingered. Aggu, feeling left out, came behind you. His hands find their way to your hips and under the soft fabric of your shirt. The feeling of his cold fingers against your skin sent shivers across your skin. His lips were quick to attach to your collarbone where he kissed and sucked. He trailed up your neck and nipped at your sweet spot causing you to moan against Joost’s lips. The air around you became hot and the clothes on your body felt restraining. He was the first to pull back for air and you both looked at each other, panting. Aggu took this opportunity to lift your shirt over your head and throw it somewhere on the floor. You immediately caught Joost staring at your tits which caused you to bite back a giggle.

“Get on the bed for us.” Joost cooed. You nodded before walking over to the bed. Luckily whoever room this was had a decent comforter. It was soft and plush under you. You looked over at the boys who seemed to be held up in some sort of conversation. You sighed and took this opportunity to remove your pants, leaving yourself in just your bra and panties. You were glad you chose to wear a pretty set. It was black with lace and rose embroidery. It was one of your favorites. Finally, they walked over to you, removing their shirts as they did so. They stopped when they saw you. You watched as their eyes gazed over your body.

“Fuck she’s hot.” Joost blurted and Aggu quickly nodded in agreement. Aggu stood at the foot of the bed while Joost was at your side. You watched as he crawled onto the bed, stopping when he was between your legs. You bit your lip as he lowered his head closer to your clothed pussy. His warm breath against you was enough to pull a whimper from you.

“Someone’s needy.” Joost breathed in your ear. He brought his hand to your chin and pulled you into another kiss. His hand then dipped under your bra where he gently squeezed your breast. You moaned into his lips when you felt his cold fingers pinch your nipple. Aggu had already taken off your panties and delved his tongue into your folds. You had to pull yourself away from Joost to let out a loud moan. It was quite a sight when you looked down. He was relentless in the way he was eating you out. His hands were holding onto your thighs tightly, keeping you exactly where he wanted. Your attention was pulled back to Joost when he pressed his lips to your jaw and down your neck. He took your hand and placed it over his growing bulge. You got the message and started palming him through his pants. Even through the loud noises coming from you, you could still hear him groan against your neck.

You unbuckled his pants and pulled out his aching cock. There was precum already dripping from his tip. You swiped your tongue across your hand before firmly grabbing him at the base. You started jerking him slowly which pulled another groan from him. He was still pressing sloppy kisses into your neck and you were sure he was leaving marks at this point. You gasped as the other man pushed one of his fingers into you. Your head fell back against the headboard giving Joost more space to explore your neck. His breaths were quick and hot as you pumped your hand faster. Then Aggu slipped another finger in, pushing into you at a frantic speed. All of it was too much as you felt yourself rapidly approaching your release. Aggu could tell by the way you were clenching around his fingers, but he didn’t let up. You felt that familiar coil in your stomach snap as you came. Your knees tightened themselves around his head, but that didn’t stop him. He let you ride out your high on his tongue.

Once you calmed down, Aggu removed himself from between you. His face was wet with your juices. He climbed off of the bed and wiped his mouth as he did so. Joost moved from your side and took his place. Aggu didn’t sit next to you like the other man did. Instead, he stood there waiting. You were panting and still a bit dazed from your orgasm, but Joost’s voice grabbed your attention. He told you to get on your knees. Although your legs were slightly shaking, you got on your knees anyway. You turn to notice they’ve both taken off the last few articles of clothing they had on. Aggu climbed into the bed in front of you. The first thing that caught your eye was his thick cock which was only a few inches from your face. When you looked up at him, he had a smirk on his face causing you to become flustered. Your attention shifted as you felt a dip in the bed behind you.

”Look at that pretty pussy.” His hands came to squeeze your ass and pulled them apart to get a better look at your pussy. You were still wet with Aggu’s spit and your orgasm.

“I know right.” Aggu’s hand came to your chin, making you look up at him. “Tastes even better.”

Without warning you felt Joost swipe his tip along your folds. You moaned when he went over your sensitive clit. Remembering the man in front of you, you leaned down and licked up the base all the way to his tip. A low groan left his lips as you took in only his tip. Joost deemed his cock wet enough and slid into you slowly, allowing you to adjust to him. You moaned onto his cock, sending vibrations through him. The noise he made was a little more vocal than before. He grabbed a handful of your hair and pushed himself further into your mouth. Behind you, Joost had bottomed out. He pulled back out and pushed into you again. This time a little rougher. Then he started rutting his hips into you. Aggu, his hand still in your hair, was guiding you up and down on him at his own pace. You were a drooling mess all over him, but you were too lost in pleasure to care. He managed to find the right amount you could take before you started gagging.

Joost’s relentless thrusts into you were quick to bring you to the edge again. You couldn’t say anything with Aggu in your mouth, but you’d doubt you’d get a coherent sentence out anyway. Behind you, Joost brought his fingers to your sensitive clit. It only took a few strokes to bring you over the edge again. Tears rolled down your cheek and you lifted yourself off of Aggu to cry out in pleasure. Joost’s thrusts were messy and becoming out of rhythm. Then his hips stuttered and stopped as he came inside of you. You felt him fill you up and spill out as he pulled out. He leaned back watching his release drip from you and took a mental picture.

“She’s all yours.” he panted over his shoulder to the man in front of you. You felt his weight on the bed disappear, and look to see him walk into the bathroom that’s connected to the room.

“Come here.” Aggu brought your attention back to him as he gestured to his lap. You weakly crawled over to him and straddled him. He traced his hands up your back and unhooked your bra. He slid the piece of fabric off of you and tossed it somewhere. You felt the cold air of the room against your nipples, hardening them. His hands grabbed your waist and he lifted you up. He moved you so you were hovering over his cock. You sank down on him slowly. He cursed under his breath as he watched where you both connected. He filled you up completely and then some. His hand came up to your cheek where his thumb rubbed gently. You melted into his touch. He pulled you into a kiss. This was different from his counterpart. He was soft and sweet against your lips. His tongue slipped past your lips and danced with yours. You shifted slightly, thrusting him into you. He gripped your hips tightly, nails digging into the plush skin.

Even with his hands and lips all over you and having his cock buried deep inside you, you were still desperate to feel him more. You whimpered against his lips. He was quick to pick up on what you wanted, so he pulled away and placed his hands firmly on your hips, guiding you to lift yourself up and then back down. With his help, you were moving at a steady pace, but it still wasn’t good enough. You were tired but still trying to chase your release. He watches you try and fuck yourself on him and senses your struggle. Taking control again, he meets your movements with his own thrusts. The way he was drilling into you had you seeing stars. Broken moans and incoherent noises were all that could be heard. For the third time already you felt yourself getting closer. His hand dipped down to rub your clit.

“Go ahead. Cum for me.” he breathed. Those words went straight to your core and were enough to bring you over the edge again. You cried out his name as you rode out your final orgasm. Hearing you say his name like that brought him to his release soon after. His grip on you was tight as he spilled into you. You both just looked at each other panting. Then a smile came across both of your faces. You were about to speak before you heard the door to the bathroom open. Joost walked out with his eyes covered by his hand. When he didn’t hear anything he removed it and sighed in relief.

“Finally. I thought you’d never finish.” Aggu rolled his eyes and you giggled. You carefully got off of him, wincing at how sensitive you still were. You stood up, or at least tried to. Your legs were now jelly. Joost was quick to come around and help you before you fell.

“I just want to go to the bathroom.” he nodded and placed his arm around your waist to support you. You both carefully walked over to the bathroom. He let you go and you leaned against the sink while he went to ran a shower for you. Aggu walked in and leaned on the counter next to you. You watched through dazed eyes as he reached his hand out and ran his finger under your lip where your lipstick had smudged. You were trying to avoid the mirror behind you so you didn’t have to see how much of a mess you were right now.

“Do you mind if I join you?” you shook your head. You were relieved he asked.

“Me too?” Joost asked. He didn’t want to be left out and you could tell. You laughed tiredly.

“Of course.” He smiled as if he was proud of himself. He turned to feel the temperature of the water. It seemed warm enough, so he helped you up and into the shower. Aggu entered behind you for support. The warmth of the water felt amazing against your skin compared to the cold air of the bathroom. If you were being honest, you were worried they would try for another round in the shower. Luckily they were just there to help you. They both lent a hand in cleaning you up. They lathered up small towels with soap and rubbed them against your skin while placing soft kisses all over you. After finishing up you were the first to step out of the shower. Neatly folded on the counter was a white towel. You picked it up and dried yourself off. They finished up a few minutes after and you stepped back out into the room. The sudden change in temperature made you shiver. You quickly put your undergarments back on and laid down on the bed, not caring to put the rest on.

Your mind can’t help but start to wonder what this means for your relationship with them. Of course, you have feelings for them and it’s clear that they’re reciprocated. The problem was having to choose. You sighed and pulled the covers over yourself. You were too exhausted for these types of thoughts. Then you heard them come out of the bathroom. They were talking amongst themselves then went quiet when they saw you.

“Are you guys gonna go back to the party?” you asked as they both looked around the room for their clothes. You were nervous about their response. They had no reason to stay. They got what they wanted. But you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want them to stay with you. There was a brief silence as they shared a look.

“I wasn’t planning to,” Joost admitted.

“Me neither,” Aggu responded.

“Good.” You couldn’t hold back your smile. You watched as they quickly changed into their boxers and joined you in bed. Your worries melted away as they laid next to you, arms lazily on your waist. Maybe you’d have to make that decision at some point, but that would be a problem for another day.

[sansaorgana]

I’ve never understood why we shoot off fireworks in the USA for the 4th, I just feel like it could trigger some of our veterans and it makes me feel awful! Could you write something like this with Buck?

hello! 💖 in my country we only shoot them on new year's eve but since I own two cats, I hate them 😡 one of my cats is so terrified each time that he literally has spasms 😥 the older he gets, the more worried I am each new year's eve tbh 😐 anyway, thank you for your request! 🎆 I was actually thinking of something like this with Buck!

I had to close my requests for now because I got so many 🙏🏻

It was the first Independence Day after the war and you were excited that you would celebrate it with your husband for the first time in two years. Especially now, after the victory, it felt more special than ever.

You decided to throw a barbecue for your befriended neighbours and you had been preparing the house and the garden for the whole week – putting up decorations with Buck’s help and cleaning everything. In the last two days you had also been busy with cooking meals and preparing salads while Buck had been supplying your fridge with everything needed for the barbecue – all sorts of meat, vegetables and sodas.

The only thing you hadn’t bought were the fireworks. You wanted to save some money, especially after hearing that different neighbours down the street were preparing a real show anyway. Surprisingly, Buck had agreed to that pretty quickly although you had expected him to try to convince you to get your own fireworks. Not because he had ever been a big fan of them but he never liked it when you were using the “saving money” argument. Whenever you would use it in different situations – like deciding whether to buy a dress or not – he would say “if it makes you happy, we can afford that”. And he knew very well that this barbecue party was making you happy.

However, you didn’t ask about it because it didn’t seem to be significant enough and you completely forgot about it anyway, too busy with all the preparations.

The barbecue started in the afternoon and the weather was beautiful on that day – clear, blue skies above you, giving you a perfect view of the fireworks here and there in the distance. You were handing the bottles of beer and coke to the guests while Buck was in charge of the barbecue when one of the neighbours asked a question that made you freeze.

“Damn, it’s like back there again, is it not?” He chuckled at Buck.

His name was Frank and he had been to Europe as well but not as a pilot. He was obviously referring to the fireworks in the background as he tried to turn it into a joke but his wife Helen hissed at him.

You suddenly realised that the sound of fireworks was not the same to everyone and you looked at your husband, worried. He might have seemed to be pretty alright after the horrors he had endured but you knew him better than everyone else and you knew. You knew about his nightmares and panic attacks. They were rare but they still were happening, sometimes triggered by the things you had never thought of before as threatening. Like with the fireworks.

“I don’t pay attention to them,” Buck gave Frank a kind smile. “My brain just shuts the sound off at this point,” he explained and he seemed to be genuine in his answer, which made you sigh in relief.

You went back to handing out the sodas and glanced at the watch on your hand. It was half an hour until the fireworks show promised by the neighbours living down the street.

When everyone had a bottle of their chosen beverage already, you joined your husband’s side to help him with the meat and vegetables. Rubbing his arm softly and laughing at the jokes being told by the others, you felt happy and satisfied with your life. Finally, after such a long time, it was back to normal, you thought. Well, nearly.

Everyone was sitting by the table in your garden and talking when you realised you had forgotten to bring mustard and ketchup.

“I’ll get it,” Buck smiled at you and stood up.

“Grab me a can of coke from the fridge, too, darling,” you told him and he nodded before disappearing inside the house.

A short moment later, the fireworks show started. Your neighbours living down the street had to spend a real fortune on it because the fireworks were many and very, very loud. You gasped and watched in awe as others stood up and cheered.

You, Helen and Frank were the only ones left sitting by the table. From the corner of your eye, you spotted that Frank’s face changed. He was no longer smiling and his skin lost some of its colour. Helen was squeezing his shaky hands and whispering something to him.

A very loud firework made you flinch while others screamed out of joy and Frank jumped on his seat. You stood up rapidly, realising that Buck hadn’t come back from the house yet.

“Helen, listen,” you leaned in to talk to her despite the noise. “You can go inside with Frank, it’s okay,” you assured her.

“Thank you,” she mouthed out with gratitude in her eyes before urging him to stand up and follow her inside.

You, however, weren’t waiting for them because you were rushing to the house yourself. You froze at the sight of your husband sitting by the kitchen table and hiding his face in his shaky hands. In fact, his whole body trembled and there was a broken bottle of mustard in the middle of the floor. He had to drop it when the fireworks show started.

Your heart broke at the sight. Your Buck was the strongest and the bravest man you knew. You would always go to him when you needed comfort or help because he was so capable of making everything – everything – better. He was good at fixing things in the physical sense but he was also always comforting you with his kindness and calm nature. He would never panic about anything and you had always admired him for that.

In moments like this, you felt helpless because you couldn’t take his pain away. And if you could, you would. He had already suffered so much that from now on, you’d rather suffer for him. But you were also angry – angry at the war for taking place and breaking him so much.

“Darling…” You started slowly and crouched down in front of him, carefully, trying not to startle him. He didn’t seem to acknowledge your presence, though. “Darling…” You repeated and put your hands on his trembling thighs.

He flinched and you shushed him while tears streamed down your cheeks. 

“Shh, shh, baby, it’s me, it’s okay, you’re home,” you tried to soothe him. “You’re with me now, you’re safe,” you assured but it was not working.

You took a deep breath in and moved up now, to stand above him. You put your hands on Buck’s ears, trying to shield him away from the noise coming from the outside. And then, gently, you pulled his face closer to you and pressed it to your tummy. You leaned in to kiss the top of his head and whisper sweet nothings that were supposed to calm him down and after a while it seemed to be working. You could feel his muscles relaxing and eventually he stopped hiding his face in his hands and wrapped his arms around your waist instead, clinging to you like a little boy.

When the fireworks show stopped and it was quiet again, you moved your hands away from Buck’s ears and began to rub his back soothingly instead.

“It’s alright now, baby, you’re home with me. I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” you promised in a whisper, sniffing back your own tears.

Buck looked up at you with teary eyes and you cupped his face to wipe his tears off of his cheeks with your thumbs. You let your fingers trace his scars and your lower lip trembled. Not that you minded those scars – not at all – but they were yet another reminder of what horrors he had been through. And he was just a man – as weak and scared as everyone else; only forced to be brave.

You understood now why he was scared of having a son with you one day. He was scared of another war coming sooner or later and he was scared of his own child going through what he had gone through.

You feared that, too. And you didn’t even fully know what had happened in Europe. Only the men who had been there knew. Women – especially those who had stayed back home – they would never understand.

“Are you back with me now, my love?” You asked, gently. Buck nodded after a while of hesitation.

“Sorry ‘bout the mustard,” he mumbled out and you chuckled as you shook your head.

“It doesn’t matter, darling,” you assured him.

But you were grateful that Buck’s panic attacks were like that. Perhaps it was wrong to be grateful for such things but you had heard enough stories of triggered men who would do much worse things while having panic attacks.

“I’m sorry…” He breathed out as fresh tears pricked his eyes.

“Don’t,” you interrupted him as you crouched down again and held his hands now to squeeze them tight. “Don’t, Gale, please, don’t ever apologise for that,” you pleaded and he looked down.

“I didn’t expect them to be so loud and so… Close. I… I suddenly wasn’t in our kitchen anymore but back in the air, up in the fort and the Germans were shooting at us and I was trying to focus on flying but deep down I was just… I was just praying to get back home to you and all I could see was your face when they tell you I’m dead and…” He started and you pursed your lips to stop your own tears from falling.

“I know, baby, I know. But it’s over now, yes? You’re back home with me, safe and sound,” you reminded him and leaned in to place a kiss upon one of his hands.

You heard footsteps behind you. It was Helen peeking inside shyly. You turned around to shake your head at her and she gave you an understanding look before walking out without a word.

“Let’s clean up now, yes?” You let go of Buck’s hands and fixed your hair before standing up clumsily.

You occupied yourself with cleaning the mess from the broken mustard bottle and Buck washed his face with cold water in the kitchen sink. You handed him some of the paper towels you were using so he could dry his face.

“You’ve missed the fireworks show because of me,” he pointed out.

“God damn those fireworks shows, Buck!” You exclaimed. “God damn them. I don’t want to see any ever again. I’m sorry that I didn't think that it would… That it would scare you like that,” you apologised.

“Well, it takes time to come to terms with the fact that your husband is a coward now,” Buck sighed and so did you, while throwing the used paper towels into the trash bin aggressively.

“My husband is not a coward and has never been. However, that self-pity attitude is new to me,” you told him and he turned his head around to look at you. “My husband is the bravest man I know,” you added. “He is my hero. And I don’t allow you to talk about him this way, you hear me? I have defended him from all the women in town telling me that men in the captive camps were no real heroes and I will defend him from you, too, when you’re so mean to him, Buck, I mean it.”

“Stop, or I’ll cry again,” he shook his head and sniffled.

There was a hint of a smile on his face and it made you grin as well before you approached him and wrapped your arms around him to hug him tight.

“I love my wife, too. The most in the whole wide world,” he assured you and hugged you back while pressing his lips to the top of your head but you could still understand his words. “I wasn’t brave, really, I wasn’t. I just did everything it took to come back to you.”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[grogusmum]

A Dark and Stormy Night (oneshot)

werewolf!FRANKIE MORALES X F!READER

W/C: 3500ish

RATED: E (18+)

WARNINGS: well, monsterfucking, oral sex (f recieving), rough sex, unprotected PiV sex (it's a fantasy y'all you know what to do!!). As always, if you see something, say something. Message me in my DMs, I'm happy to add something I missed.

SUMMARY: You stumble into a lighthouse to get out of a storm, and meet the handsome light-keeper, who has a secret, but is irresistible.

A/N: Oberyn and the Merling was technically my first foray into monsterfucking, but that was like teenagers humping in the back of a car...this is, well, it's as no holds barred as I've ever gotten. I hope it doesn't suck, lol. Anyway wish me luck! 💚

This was posted as a multipart fic, but when I finished the second part it made more sense to be all one piece. I may write more for these two, but as it stands, it is a oneshot.

You follow a boardwalk that becomes a path as the clouds roll in, obscuring the moon. You know you need to find cover before the storm.

Focusing on the shifting sand under your feet, as the rain begins, you speed up. The skies continue to darken; soon, you reach the first rocks of the jetty while the rain comes down in sheets. Looking up, you find yourself at the base of an old lighthouse. The lens swings across the black water as it lights up the dark and stormy night for those lost at sea.

Beach rose thorns tear at your sweater as you race up the slope. Beyond, scrub pines and pin oak trees create a small amount of cover; the wind picks up, but not before you hear the baying of a wolf… no, not a wolf. A coyote, there are no wolves in these parts. But there's something different about the howl; you speed up and bang on the door of the great beacon.

"Hello?" You shout, "please! Is anyone there?"

As if in answer, another howl rings out, making you jump. After a crash of lightning for good measure, you try the latch and push the door open, willing to disregard good manners. Looking for a switch or a lamp, you find only a candle in a heavy brass holder on a small shelf and a black matchbox holder attached to the curved wall. 

Running the wooden match across the strike pad, it sputters to life, and you light the candle. Slipping your finger into the brass ring of the candle holder and carrying it before you, the Gothic horror mood of the whole situation is not lost on you. With a sigh and a shiver, you wind up the spiral stairs.

"Hell-lo? I don't mean to intrude, but…" you call again and then with a chuckle in an undertone, "Our car broke down a few miles up the road. Do you have a phone we might use?"

Shivering in your soaked clothes, you reach the first level, which contains the living quarters. You can't help but rush to the woodstove, which warms the round room.

You hear a creak below as you take off your shoes and socks. Did you forget to latch the door entirely? Biting your lip in worry, you continue to listen; bracing yourself, you pull a poker from the coal scuttle.

You wait and wait. Time spins out—the only measure is your heart’s tattoo, like a rabbit's. As the adrenaline clears your system, you become exhausted. Swaying where you stand, the iron poker clangs on the pine floor, bringing you back. Deciding it must just be “old house sounds,” you move to the bed and sit, and without so much as a yawn of warning, your eyes slip closed.

In the middle of the night, you feel a weight on your chest, soft and warm. Your eyes flutter open, and blocking the light coming from the woodstove is an enormous shape pressing on you; as your eyes focus, it huffs a breath, and you recognize it as a sleeping dog sound. It's huge, with pointed ears. How did you not see or hear it when you came in? Whether a watchdog or not, wouldn’t it have come to investigate? The trunk of the animal is on you, its muzzle at your collarbone, a front leg on either side of you, fully caging you in. Your hand comes up, fingers sinking into its plush fur, like a wolf’s… you shake your head, not a wolf, of course, but those dogs that look like them. Its steady heartbeat and relaxed breathing lull you back to sleep; elk-hound, that's what the one, you think, as you drift under again.

Waking again at full light, you find yourself tucked into a patchwork quilt, your shoes placed under the stove, warm and dry, no dog to be seen. The smell of eggs and bacon draws you up the stairs, halfway up you can hear the food sizzling on the stove. You feel this need to check yourself over, but you seem fine. You fell asleep on the bed of a stranger, who is apparently back- you shake your head at how unbelievably dangerous that was. Then you remember the dangers outside… it's a calculated, if hastily figured, risk.

His back to you, in front of the stove, you presume, is the light-keeper, a cable knit sweater stretched across his broad shoulders. 

"He-hello?"

He turns, soft brown eyes, brown curls standing up as though he’d run his fingers through them just a moment ago, a sharp nose that suits him, with crease of his bottom lip that accentuates his mouth’s natural pout. Not that you had any real expectations on what a lighthouse operator looks like but... maybe like some old-salt sailor type with a beard and pipe. Silly, of course. You remind yourself that you are not a cod fish and close your mouth.

"Morning," came his rich baritone voice.

"I'm so sorry, I- I - the storm-” you stumble as you try to pull yourself together.

"Don't worry about that. I hope you slept alright. "

"I did, thank you, but  I- should get going." You start putting on your shoes, “ I really didn't mean to fall asleep, " ...on your bed.

“'S not problem, really; that was one hell of a storm last night.”

“I should go-”

Well,” he says, bringing breakfast to a simple pine table, “that's the tricky part…” 

“W-why?”

“The roads are impassable and there's more rain on the way.”

“Oh.”

“Nothing to be done about it right now,” he says, “have something to eat.”

You begin to eat, and after a bite or two, you introduce yourself.

“Where are my manners- I’m Frankie. Spending too much time on my own, I guess.”

“Are you kidding, I burst into your house like Goldilocks! Found sleeping in your bed.”

“And was it just right, Goldie?” He smirks.

You fluster a little; he is very handsome after all, and broad and was that flirting… 

“Better to be Goldilocks than Red Riding Hood, I suppose.” He says you get the feeling it wasn’t meant to be out loud. “I guess that depends on who the huntsman turns out to be…” 

He notices your eyes widen and smiles apologetically, brushing his comment aside. “Sorry, like I said, spend a lot of time on my own.”

"S-speaking of Red Riding Hood, where’s your dog? It came and slept with me last night.”

“Hmmm?" Frankie murmurs as he sets the table, "Oh, he’s- around.”

“Well, he kept me very cozy last night. What a cuddle bug; what’s his name?”

“His, um - it’s Cisco. You better dig into those eggs; they're gonna get cold.”

“Right,” you take up a fork of scrambled egg, “I will be able to leave today, though, right?”

“We’ll have to see,” is all he says before digging into his breakfast.

Frankie goes about his light-keeper duties, including hunting for his lost skiff. You aren't sure what to do with your time-

“Is there something I can do to help? I kind of feel weird just sitting around-”

“Well, the weather isn't going to let us do much outside safely, but-”

Frankie pulls off his ball cap, ruffles his hair, and plops it back on his head, thinking, “I mean, you could help clean the lantern glass …”

“Really?” You stand, excited to do a real lighthouse job. 

“Sure, hard to mess up… no offense, and safe.” 

You take no offense; on the contrary, you clap happily to yourself, to which Frankie chuckles.

After showing you the supplies and giving you a quick demonstration, he starts down the stairs to continue with his other duties and then stops and turns-

"Thanks, Goldie," he winks and then descends the stairs.

After a time, you see him out on the rocks despite the wind starting up again from the east. He must be looking for his rowboat. You decide to scout the circumference of the lantern room, looking out the windows to see if you can see the craft. 

To the northwest, you see something red against the rocks. It doesn't look good.

You step out onto the gallery. Luckily, this isn't a particularly tall lighthouse, but it's tall enough, and the iron balcony was small enough that you feel a touch of vertigo looking down. It doesn't help that the wind's really kicking up now, reminding you that this is just a break in the storm. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath and open them.

"Uh, Frankie!" 

Frankie looks up, hand going to the bill of his cap.

"Is that your skiff?" You point to the red “something” half in the water. 

He hollers his thanks and jogs over to where you are indicating, and you can see his frustrated huff as his hands hitch onto his hips in a disgruntled fashion.

Cleaning all that glass takes time, and your shoulders can feel the real work of it. You stop only when your stomach screams for lunch, and you find a sandwich under plastic wrap for you, but you haven’t seen Frankie, Lighthouse Keeper, the rest of your time working on it, nor Cisco, the Lighthouse Dog. 

He had brought the boat to a shed and disappeared inside it. When and if he came out, you didn't notice. You also realize you haven’t seen any signs of a pet anywhere; no bed or bowls. When you come down the spiral steps, you smell of the concoction used for cleaning the glass and lens; watered-down isopropyl alcohol and Woolight - but mostly the alcohol. 

“You'll want to wash your hands with this,” Frankie hands you a bar of soap at the first landing of the spiral stair. “It'll take care of the rubbing alcohol smell and keep your hands from drying out.” 

Frankie gives a crooked smile of apology at your startled jump. Murmuring your thanks, you take it and smell the bar that looks so small when in his hand. Fresh. Your mind wanders to how this fresh scent might mingle with Frankie's natural one. The bubble of revery is just a millisecond and pops like one the moment your eyes land on Frankie, who looks like he knows exactly what you're thinking.

When you join him in the kitchen, where he is again standing over the stove, the delicious scent of savory soup reminds you of coming home after a long chilly walk from school. The wind is howling now, and you can hear the crash of the waves, as high tide approaches, the pound of them like rumbling thunder. Its only rival is the whip crack of the actual thunder chasing the lighting strikes illuminating the windows. 

“Where’s Cisco?”

“Weather like this he likes to be below,” Frankie says after a beat, back still turned, “I have him set up with his bed down there so he doesn’t get anxious.”

“Oh,” you feel a little more at ease about not seeing neither hide nor hair of the beast of a dog all day.

“It'll be dark early due to the storm, and I’ll have duties up above. I’m going to ask you to stay in the living quarters. I’ll sleep up there, so, um, just - make yourself at home.”  

You do your best, but your mind is on Frankie in a way that makes what you would be doing at home, not at all appropriate, even when told to make yourself at home.  His dark eyes, big hands... him calling you Goldie. How many times your mind has gone back to him asking you if his bed was just right, you dare not admit, even to yourself. You don't know him, you remind yourself.

Suddenly, there's a bang and scuffle. Then you hear a yowl.

“Cisco?” You go to the door, preparing to go down to where you assume he's been set up, but a second sound confirms it's coming from above, not below… where Frankie is.                   

You turn and look up the spiral stairs. “F-Frankie?”

Your foot hesitantly lands on the first step -

“D-did Cisco follow you? 

More shuffling and a loud thunk on the floor bring you up short. Frankie asked you to stay below, but maybe he hurt himself, or Cisco made his way up there and was scared of the storm. Your feet start moving again up the winding steps. 

You pause, your head just above the landing, eyes adjusting to the strange light of the lantern room. Instead of finding a dog, on the floor is a pile of clothes, folded neatly, with Frankie's cap placed atop it. As you look up, you see Frankie from behind, sitting in the one chair the room affords. His skin gleams with a layer of sweat, and he gives a sudden quake.

“Frankie! A-are you alright? I heard-”

His head whips around and then down as you are still only partway up the stairs. 

“I told you to sta—” the lightning flashes, and you see Frankie's eyes have changed. They are no longer warm, sweet brown but glowing amber. 

“Wh- you- you're-” Everything in you screams to run as far away as possible, but when Frankie contorts in a new wave of pain, you scramble up the stairs. He almost wails in despair as you approach the chair. “Frankie, what is happening? How can I - hel -”

“ C-can’t, go G-gold-ie, please!” 

“I don’t understand, Frankie. What’s happening?” 

The light-keeper takes a steadying breath as if fighting every molecule of his changing form, Though he knows it’s too late. Too late to shield you. 

“C-come here,” he breathes.

Lighting flashes again, the boom of thunder right on top of it. When your eyes adjust yet again, you go around the chair to face him. Frankie takes your hand; long claw-like nails have sprouted, and you have cottoned on. Frankie is - 

While he has a firm grip, he causes no pain. Your brows knot as he pushes up your sleeve. 

“I will remember,” he says, as much for himself as for you. Then he presses his nose to your wrist, inhaling deeply, and his eyes flick up to yours. The storm rages, the lens does its steady turn, and Frankie continues to smell you. He stands, eyes never breaking contact, his bare skin glistening in the light.

 You had tried not to look down at his body. But he's so close, and when he stands, your resolve breaks. Frankie is strong and somehow more broad across the shoulders than when in the confines of his fisherman’s sweater but has a trim waist. His Adonis belt is so enticing, as is his soft belly. Below that, his uncut cock has an enticing curve. Your eyes travel back up. You find his waiting for yours; he lifts his head away from your wrist and pulls; you stumble a step closer, and his face burrows into your neck. He breathes in your scent.

“Didn't harm you last night, I won't… I’ll remember, promise. You smell so good, Goldie.”

The warmth you feel low in your pelvis is combined with a shiver as you clench on nothing.

“S-so, you-your…” you stammer as his clawed hands wrap around your waist; he tastes your collarbone, licking a long stripe as he finds his way below your ear. Your knees buckle, but Frankie has a firm grip on you. “Cisco?”

“ ‘m ssorry,” he slurs, his nose nestled where your ear and jaw meet. “You taste as good as you smell, Goldie… I wonder-” 

What Frankie is wondering is interrupted by a long canine whine as he pulls back, face contorted in pain as his teeth elongate into fangs.

The blood has surely left your face, and you're shocked as you become aware that it has rushed to lower regions. You can feel the wetness between your legs, and  Frankie, closing his eyes, breathes in how your scent has changed. 

The sinful look he gives sends more heat between your thighs; you know you're soaked by now. You can still see the handsome light-keep though his eyes glow, his ears are now pointed, and his hair is shaggy. A hungry tongue moves over sharp teeth. Teeth made for tearing your throat out.

The next thunderclap shakes the lighthouse, and it's only then that he breaks his grip on you. He cries out as his body continues to transform. It snaps you out of your trance. You run down the iron stairs, passing the kitchen, down to the living quarters, and you're brought up short by a full wolf bay sounding from above. 

“What am I doing? What am I doing!?” you look up the stairs, and almost against your will, you look through the doorway to the bed—the bed where Frankie had lain atop you as the wolf. Then your eyes drift upward again, biting your thumb in indecision. Or perhaps fear at the decision you're apparently making. You slowly undress, leaving the door open; you spread out on the soft bed and wait to see what happens.

How much time before you hear the click of canine claws on the treads of each step, you aren't sure. You only know the twist of arousal you feel arches your back, and Frankie hasn't even touched you. Are you afraid? Not as much as you think you should be. It's there; this danger lights up your brain and sends adrenaline coursing through you. But he didn't hurt you last night, and he said- he-

The wolf growls around the door; he is not on all fours but hunched, one front paw occasionally touching the floor. 

“F-f-” you stammer as his front paws press heavily on the bed. He is enormous, and he hulks over you. His snout investigates every crease and crevice. You close your eyes as he noses at your mound. “-fuck.”

The wolf's tongue dips between your legs, and you gasp as your legs open like an involuntary response, and Frankie seems to seize the opportunity to open you further, pawing at your thighs, opening them, holding them where he wants them. Claws press on your sensitive skin as he laps at you.

“Frankie!” Your fingers dig into the thick, soft fur as the twist in your womb tightens and you pulse. 

How much of the man is still present, you have no idea. You are, of course, banking on it, and you figure praying to every deity that he is there, keeping the beast from tearing you to shreds, can't hurt. 

You can feel the rumble from deep in Frankie's throat, and when his long tongue breaches your pussy, he is immediately rewarded with a gush as lights pop behind your eyelids and the coil in your belly snaps.

You cry out, and he drinks sloppily at your entrance. He doesn't stop until you start to come down from your high, your chest’s rise and fall finally slowing.

Then the beast towers over you, his cock weeping. In one swift move of inhuman strength, he's suddenly flipped you onto your stomach. His large paws holding your hips, he brings your backside up, and in one fast motion, he's sheathed himself to the hilt. 

As ready as his tongue had made you, you still are stretched beyond anything you've ever experienced. He is deep inside, and his snout nuzzles into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, making you feel utterly consumed by him. His brutal pace lifts your knees off the bed when he begins to move. His rhythm takes your breath away, his length hitting that delicious spot inside you that most find elusive, and it isn't long before the telltale swell of another orgasm begins to crest.

When you clamp down around him, he howls, and you know he has come right along with you. His rhythm stutters and slows. Frankie's tongue lazily drags over your shoulder blade, and he whines as his nose nudges at your hair.  As you both float back into your bodies, opening your eyes, the round room is drenched in moonlight. The storm has passed. 

The beast allows you to roll onto your side before covering you again, as he had the night before. He gives a chaste lick to your cheek, and you huff a laugh, wondering if you will even be able to look him in the eye in the morning. But you're too exhausted and drift to sleep before shame can take its turn to feast on you.

The morning sun blazes as it has a way of doing after a storm; shorebirds herald the day, and again, you wake to the smell of breakfast, sausage, coffee, and eggs. You're again tucked into the worn but well-cared-for quilt. Your eyes rove the room as you try not to overthink, and just as you reach for your clothes (which are neatly laid out at the end of the bed), Frankie, the man, comes in with a tray heaped with food—the smell of his delicious cooking filling the room.

“ ‘Morning, Goldie.” he smiles shyly. His eyes are not quite meeting yours, and he keeps himself busy with the breakfast tray. You return his smile, somehow his sweet bashfulness making you feel less self-conscious- 

“G’morning, Fran- Fran-cisco!”

Brown eyes sparkling in response to yours becoming like saucers, Frankie's smile widens.

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@pagannightwitch @haylzcyon @kurlyfrasier @sherala007 @dontgodownfornoroses @all-the-way-down-here @trickstersp8 @sgt-morgan @jallen0126 @tanzthompson @avidreader73 @simpingcowboy @brilliantopposite187 @quicax3 @jedi-in-crocs @vickie5446 @painitemoondust @readiskeepingmegoing @mandoloriancookie @inept-the-magnificent @freakrenaissance

@evyiione @adriiibell @princess76179 @beskarprincessjenny @mashomasho @thirddeadlysin @mandoblowmybackout @terecord @adancedivasmom

[lizardaggro]

on the flip side (twst bully!au) pt 3

here we are, the long-awaited (it was literally like 1 day) part 3!! i wanted to declare on one of the actual chapters since those get seen by the most people that I DID NOT MAKE THIS AU, credit i believe goes to @azulsluver. i swear i don't hate you guys, leaving everything on a cliffhanger, but the good news is i have a lot of time on my hands due to chronic illness so i can update super often. also i gave up on the purple theme on posts bc tumblr hates me and always leaves the end of the word count black.

part 1 part 2

genre: gn reader, angst trigger warnings: bullying, mild yandere (will be escalating throughout the series, but no non-con) word count: 1246

You couldn’t really afford to space out and think about it though, not when he was right in front of you. Riddle tapped his foot impatiently, clearly irate at your lack of response. “Well?” He asked. “Do you not even have anything to say in your defense?”

Oh dear. However were you supposed to get rid of him when he was so intent on getting some sort of answer out of you? You had no idea what he wanted! He was more difficult to threaten, too, since you’d made up your mind that you didn’t want to be like your tormentors and completely ruin others’ lives. No, your end goal was just to make them leave you alone. After everything you’d been through, you really didn’t want to see them again.

It might seem strange to some people, that you weren’t dead set on destroying any semblance of normalcy they once had. You had all the ammunition you needed, of course. The Overblot victims would be the easiest to topple, considering what they’d done in and leading up to that state. But you didn’t think you were a particularly vengeful person; at least, you didn’t want to be. Crowley had always said that you must’ve been sent here to get his precious students to work together, so clearly you weren’t like them.

“I never asked for this, Riddle. Any of this. So if you think somewhere in your fucked-up mentality that you’re doing me some sort of favor, you’re dead wrong,” you intoned. Indeed, even though you just wanted them gone, you missed the days when you were all friends. Back when you thought everyone had your back no matter what. Oh, if only you knew what they’d do for you. It wouldn’t be hard at all to push some of the more unstable students over the edge. Those who felt they didn’t have anyone else. Much like a certain dragon fae who never did seem to get invited to things.

Riddle looked like he was about to say something, but before he could, he was drenched by a great torrential rain. Where did that come from? Didn’t the forecast say it was supposed to be clear skies and sunny for the rest of the week? Your question was soon answered, as you had two more visitors.

“Silver? Sebek? What brings you here?” You inquired, not at all amused. When those two showed up at the same time, it could only mean one thing, and it wasn’t good. Riddle looked like he had caught on as well, since he stepped in front of you, as if that would do any good.

“LORD MALLEUS REQUESTS YOUR PRESENCE!!” Sebek boomed. You’d made progress on his volume in the past, so you were sure he did it just to annoy you. Silver just stared. He always stared, you felt like. Sometimes you swore you could feel his eyes on you even when he was nowhere to be found.

“Oh, gee, I wonder what that’s about,” you snarked. “Poor little princey-poo doesn’t want his embarrassing little secrets getting out? Well you can tell him to fuck off.” You must’ve been feeling especially brave, since normally you knew that defying Malleus Draconia was as good as a death sentence. He wasn’t even that bad, compared to some of the others. He just… locked you in his room and made you listen to him talk, with no room to get a word in edgewise. He’d go on and on about one thing or another for HOURS, with no regard for your schedule or your bodily needs. Clearly fae had a different sense of time than most.

It was the loss of control over your own life that you hated; that, and that if he really still considered you a friend, he never bothered to do anything about your bullies. You knew he was more than capable; you’d witnessed his strength firsthand on multiple occasions. You didn’t know what his endgame was, and frankly you were too scared to find out. He could trap you there forever and you wouldn’t be able to do a single thing about it.

Sebek was not amused. He raised an arm, likely to strike you, but Silver placed a hand on it, effectively stopping him. “Don’t. You wouldn’t want Lord Malleus to see a bruise on them,” he reasoned. You didn’t get it. Since when would he care? Sebek roughly shoved Riddle out of the way, despite all his objections, and nonchalantly slung you over his shoulder.

“What the hell?!” You screeched, pounding your fists on his back. “Put me down! I’m not going!” You weren’t sure why you were objecting so vehemently; this time wasn’t any different than the others. But something about the dark gray clouds pouring rain on what should’ve been a lovely day just told you that this was not going to be good.

But alas, your plight was ignored. The three of you made your way to Diasomnia in silence. No one bothered to stop and stare in the halls, as you being carried off by people was somewhat of a normal occurrence. You could swear Savannahclaw and Diasomnia even had some sort of twisted capture-the-flag game going, for whatever reason.

When you entered the gothic-style castle, you were greeted by none other than Lilia. Much like Malleus, he’d never bothered you too terribly, only engaging in less-than-welcome pranks. You knew he was far older than he let on, so you supposed he didn’t see the point in such childish endeavors. There was, however, one thing you feared about the man: his cooking, which he tried to shove down your throat at every opportunity. How Silver grew up healthy you’d never know.

And so, of course, you were greeted by a plate of… well, goop, to put it nicely. “Here, have a seat, dear, I made lasagna,” Lilia offered with what you assumed was supposed to be a warm smile. To you in that moment, with the fumes starting to reach your nose, it looked like a shit-eating grin.

“I’ll pass, thanks. That is to say, I’d rather die than eat that shit, because it looks and smells like it’ll send me straight to hell,” you deadpanned. Sebek let out an unholy screech and started ranting about how dare you refuse Lord Lilia, even though you knew he wouldn’t want to eat it either. You did your best to tune him out. Silver looked relieved, surprisingly enough. You supposed he was able to empathize since he grew up eating the stuff.

Luckily for you, Lilia just sighed and walked off, taking his culinary abomination with him. The three of you who remained shared a look. “How are you still alive after all these years?” You asked Silver. He shrugged. If even he didn’t know, you’d just call it a miracle.

“SILVER, QUIT FRATERNIZING WITH THE ENEMY! LORD MALLEUS IS WAITING!” Sebek practically screamed in your ear. You really wished he would stop doing that. But you had more important things to worry about, like your impending death by dragon fae. Once you arrived at Malleus’s room, Sebek set you down and pushed you inside. You heard the lock click behind you. You gulped, feeling the pressure of being alone in a room with a presumably angry and very powerful mage. You looked up to see a pair of emerald eyes staring you down. Oh boy, this was not going to be fun.

taglist: @twistedcece @slxt4h1m @teawhere @pleasehugmeaether @reivelmin @aoiyx

[melrodrigo]

favorite - t.c.

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary: After a day of feeling useless, Tara’s the only one who can make you feel better.

Pairings: Slight Amber Freeman x Reader in the beginning, Tara Carpenter x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k+

A/N: Am I projecting? Maybe. Tara’s my bbg 🫶🏻

Amber

YN - Why do you only want me when you have nothing else to do?

You bite your lip as you hit send, swiping out the app as fast as you can to try and quell the feeling of regret you know is coming.

Your lover of sorts, Amber Freeman, had been acting weird lately.

You’re not sure what to call the two of you, best friends that kiss each other? friends with benefits? two buddies in a situationship?

All very accurate descriptions, you think as you laugh bitterly.

It had been weeks of bliss at first, with flirty comments, secret kisses, and love notes stashed in your locker.

But for the past few days, she’s been awful. Gone are the nights spent giggling together on your couch while you watch a movie, gone are the butterflies whenever you see her name pop up on your screen.

She’s quiet. It makes you uneasy.

At first, you tried to ignore it, think to yourself she must be busy.

She loves me, she’ll answer, you reason.

Nothing hurts more than being proven wrong.

A - I think we should stop talking.

YN- What? Why? Can’t we talk this out?

A - I wanted to tell you a couple of days ago in person but…I’m sorry. I just don’t like you anymore. I met someone else.

You blink back the tears already welling in your eyes. You shut your phone off, refusing to answer, part of you hoping she might beg for your forgiveness after seeing you upset.

Nothing.

Your chest heaves as the hole in your chest deepens.

How could she? After everything you’d been through together. Especially after the Ghostface attacks last year, you’d hoped she cared a little more.

You’d been the one to warn her, even. When she told you she had feelings for you, you’d made her promise that she swore they were true. You weren’t taking a chance on a ‘maybe’.

But alas, your moon-eyed perspective had affected your decision-making skills. She’d told you she loved you, and that she was going to be your girlfriend, and you had believed her.

You fall back onto your bed. Hands pressed to your forehead harshly as you think.

You pick up your phone once more, ignoring all thoughts that tell you this is a horrible idea, and call her up.

-

“Hey. Thanks for coming.” You tell Tara as you step back to let her in. She’s dressed in an oversized AC/DC t-shirt paired with gray sweatpants.

Her hair is slightly messy like she’s just woken up from a nap. You curse as you catch yourself thinking about how cute she looks.

“No problem.” She tells you without missing a beat, walking into your house and up to your room like it’s her second home.

You and Tara had a history.

All throughout grade school, you had the biggest crush on the brunette, but she never reciprocated. Not that you ever told her about it. Later, when both of you were in high school, she confessed that she liked you.

You were so confused between your feelings for Amber and for her back then, you ended up never giving her a clear answer. And after time, the two of you just started to drift away.

But you wouldn’t be able to say that the underlying feeling she was the one wasn’t always simmering within you.

Your feelings for Tara were something that could never be explained. Not even to your best friends over the years, who would hear endless rants about the girl.

She was just so, perfect.

Well- nobody was perfect; you knew that. She was always somewhat of a rebel throughout your school years. But you found her imperfections endearing, which only made her more human and in turn, more perfect to you.

It didn’t help that she also looked like an angel that had fallen from the skies.

In short, Tara Carpenter was an enigma. You’ve had crushes before, of course. But this one, you think will never go away. Whether you viewed her from a romantic or platonic lens, all you could feel was adoration. You were incredibly fond of the girl.

You snap out of your daze and follow her upstairs, closing the door behind you.

“So, you wanna tell me what this is about?” She says, not unkindly.

You play with the hairs on the nape of your neck as you answer her.

“I’ve just been feeling…sort of weird. I needed some company.” You tell her, somewhat awkwardly,

“And nobody else was free?” She prods, her eyes filling with an emotion you can’t quite place.

You look down shyly as you shake your head. “No, I wanted you to come.” You mumble, loud enough for her to hear.

You sneak a peek at her expression and relax once you see she’s smiling.

“Good. ‘Cause I’ve been missing you.” She says, grinning.

Her words make you feel like a weight’s been taken off your shoulders. Everything’s normal. Everything’s good.

You relax, moving over to join her on the bed.

“I missed you too.” You say.

She doesn’t miss a beat before she reaches for your TV remote and pushes herself further up your bed. She takes her hair out of the bun it was in and whips out her glasses.

She never likes to wear it because she thinks it makes her look nerdy, but you think it’s the cutest thing.

“You sure are making yourself at home.” You murmur, earning a soft slap from the girl.

“Hey! This is how you’re supposed to experience a movie.“ She says, nudging herself into your bedsheets.

You scoff as you join her and place your leg over her own.

“Who said we were going to watch a movie?” You challenge, raising a brow at her.

She shrugs, unserious. “I figured I’d take the lead. You need a distraction, and you weren’t doing anything…so.”

You nudge her with your shoulder one more time before settling in beside her, not willing to debate.

She scrolls on your TV a little while longer before you nearly leap out of your seat as you see your favorite movie pass.

You open your mouth to force her to pick it, but she buts in before you can get a word out.

“Yes, I know it’s your favorite movie. I’m putting it on now, shush.” She teases, smirking slightly.

You relent without a word.

Halfway through the movie, you can tell Tara’s getting sleepy. Her eyes droop and her head is falling further into the pillow.

You bite back a chuckle and pull out your phone, ready to take a photo that’ll surely embarrass the brunette.

She stirs in her sleep when the flash goes out, looking up at you groggily.

You panic and shove the phone underneath you, moving over to do anything to distract her. You don’t have enough time to think, you surge forward and press your lips to her forehead.

Her eyes widen, no doubt wondering what the hell you’re doing.

A forehead kiss? Yeah, that isn’t suspicious at all!

She’s still still under you, blinking slowly.

“Go back to sleep Tar.” You mumble against her skin, using a nickname you haven’t called her in ages.

It works though. You feel her physically relax and in the next few minutes, she’s fast asleep against you once again, this time with her arm wrapped around your waist.

You feel your cheeks get hot and thank the gods that nobody can see you.

You watch as the credits of the movie finally roll, and you feel the tiresome events of the day finally catch up to you.

You look down at Tara, studying her features. You want to reach out and touch her freckles, but you resist the urge.

Whatever Tara Carpenter was to you didn’t matter today, you reason. The only thing that matters is that she’s here, and she’s made you feel better than you have in months. Friend or something more, she’ll always be the one to brighten your day.

[aangelinakii]

TALK.

— swimming... fountains?

summary : the two of you had been best friends since god knows when. maybe things turn out differently when you pull him in.

not proofread !

for as long as he could remember, dick grayson was utterly in love with you. from the way you held yourself, to the way you smiled at him, and down to the jokes you teased him with that he wouldn't let anyone else slide with.

ever since you were kids, you consumed his every thought. but what he didn't realise, was that you felt the same.

of course, it was a situation of miscommunication; simply just being too afraid to bring it up to the other, and not being able to read the hidden feelings of one another.

as nightwing, trained detective, dick knew how to read people. he could match a villain to their alter ego by simply passing them in the street on his way to grab a sub sandwich for lunch, but with you it was just different. maybe because it was a matter involving himself, as opposed to simply onlooking others. he felt conscious of his role in your life, and didn't want to manipulate things to follow his wishes.

put simply, he respected you immensely, and didn't want to force you into a situation he was scared you didn't want to be in. perhaps that was why you were better off as best friends.

on days neither of you had anything to do, you walked through the various parks of gotham, usually talking about how the past week had gone, or how the how many days that had passed between seeing each other had gone.

today, the two of you did just that. it was normal, nothing to be thought of it... right?

"i dunno, bruce has been stricter on us recently," dick chimed up in response to your question about his recent patrols. "so i don't really know what's going on."

pursing your lips, you gave a shrug. "even from when i've met him, he doesn't seem too lively. maybe he's just going through something."

"that's what i'm worried about."

and dick gave a sigh, one that held more weight than he was letting on. clearly this was something bigger than either of you two knew.

for a moment, you sized him up, watching as his eyes trained on the pebbly ground ahead. with the back of your hand, you nudged his arm, causing him to perk up.

"hey, how about we get some ice cream? maybe even sundaes from that shop on fourth?"

at this, his eyes lit up, stormy skies clearing with the reemergence of the sun, along with his charming smile. you knew he would be more than happy to, even if he didn't say so.

before you, the water fountain was approaching, with each step the two of you took. as it came up, you brought your foot onto the ledge, and began to walk along it.

as if like clockwork – because of the amount of times he had been with you as you walked along the fountain – dick held his hand out to your, soft palm up to the sky. in his field of work, it was a miracle he could keep his hands from getting calloused.

without having to think about it, you placed your hand in his, fitting like a puzzle piece; like a glove; lock and key.

"i already know what i'm going to get," dick piped up once again, his other hand snug in the pocket of his jeans. "rocky road, vanilla, and strawberry. maybe some butterscotch and marshmallows. i might gain a few, but i'll work it off tonight, anyway."

a laugh brushed past your lips, and you opened your mouth to reply. but any words about to escape slipped past without a sound, for your foot slipped. the fountain's ledge was slightly wet, probably from where a bird wanted a quick bath, or someone playing fetch with their dog actually threw the ball in and water splashed everywhere.

whatever it was that had happened, you were falling, no birds or dog toys could change that. and when you looked over at dick, mouth agape and eyebrows raised in shock, he was falling, too.

with a deafening splash! the two of you were splayed out in the water fountain, gasping at the chill, trying to push yourselves to sit up.

"oh my god!" you gasped, pushing your soaked hair out of your eyes, which were wide as they looked over at dick, who seemed just as shocked as you. "are you okay? i'm so sorry!"

"no, no, i'm fine," dick replied, running a hand through his raven hair, looking around at the situation as if not truly believing he was sitting in a water fountain, where literally anybody could walk past and find him. if he found any front pages with his photo on them, he would not be too happy.

on his knees, he waded over to you, and your eyes noticed the way his white shirt grew translucent in the water.

"you," he began. "are you okay? you're not hurt, are you?"

for a moment, you were worried maybe you were, but the adrenaline coursing through your body had deafened the pain, and you frantically moved to inspect if you still had all limbs.

opposite you, a chuckle brushed past dick's lips. "you look fine," he hummed. and when you looked up, his expression was soft; almost more stripped, more genuine, with the droplets of water lingering on his cheek and eyelashes.

"fine?" you repeated airily, the ghost of a disbelieving laugh running out with your breath. "like, i'm fine, or i don't look damaged?"

if you blinked, you would miss it. dick's blue eyes roamed your appearance briefly, the smile lingering at his lips. "yeah, you're fine," he replied casually.

he sat on his knees before you, not seeming to mind the cold water seeping through his clothes – which were probably more expensive than your rent – just smiling up at you, the chill causing a light flush to creep onto his cheeks. after a moment, his smile faltered, and he seemed to grow self-conscious.

"i want to talk to you about something."

you gave a laugh. "really? is this really the right time for that?" you questioned with a half-chuckle, eyes glancing around at the situation the two of you had found yourselves in; sitting pretty in a water fountain, where people were beginning to take notice. but hey ho, it was gotham; stranger things have happened.

dick paused, and, passing over a few beats, gave a bashful shrug. "i don't know. it might be. i don't think there would ever be a right time for this."

with a furrow of your brow, you narrowed your eyes at him. "what's up?" you hummed, repositioning yourself to sit more comfortably on your knees, the water rippling around you.

his mouth opened, readying to speak, but he looked away, seemingly thinking over his words, judging by that inquisitive glint in his eye. but he finally looked back at you.

"you know how much i appreciate you, right?"

at his words, the corner of your mouth twitched, aching to hold back a smile. "yeah, of course. i appreciate you too, dick."

"like," he continued, chuckling softly, "i'm not even mad that you ruined my clothes by pulling me into a fountain in the middle of the park. seriously. not even mad at all. if you were tim, i would be holding your head under the water right now."

you gave a nod, eyes flickering to the side. "where is this going?"

dick exhaled through his nose, expression hardening as he looked over at you. "i think you're great. i think you're great when you fall into a water fountain and bring me with you; i think you're great when you send me a text before i go on patrol telling me to 'keep safe'. i think you're great when we go on walks, and when we go share an ice cream sundae, and when you remember my subway order—"

"how am i supposed to forget that you like your subway melts with way too many pickles to even be normal?"

and he laughed, that softness that you just adored shining through once more, causing you to crack a grin as well.

"what i'm saying..." dick began once his chuckle had trailed off, eyes gazing into the trickling stream pooling from the statue in the centre of the fountain. "i guess... maybe i wish we weren't friends."

almost as soon as the words left his mouth, your eyebrows creased and your jaw dropped. "what– that doesn't make sense—"

"i'm in love with you, (y/n)," he finished, cutting off your confusion with barely a full sentence, his lips trembling. "okay? is that okay?"

how could you even reply to that?

noting your lack of response, dick continued to talk, trailing off awkwardly. he was ready for your years of friendship to be over.

"i just suppose we tell each other everything, and i kind of felt – i don't know – guilty that i was leaving this out. especially since it involves you. i know if you ever had a problem with me you would tell me, and the same for me with you, but i could never have a problem with you, i just thought it was the same sort of principle, i dunno—"

warmth clashing against the chill of the water, soft skin meeting soft skin. only for a moment. and it was over.

you pulled away, eyelids fluttering open to look at your best friend expectantly. best friends can't be best friends after this.

he felt for you the way you felt for him.

after every patrol, no matter how tired, he always made an effort to knock on the window of your bedroom, and bring by one of your favourite snacks, or even just to tell you about how it had gone; you adored it, the way he was so thoughtful. you thought he was just doing it because that's what best friends do.

he used to help you study for tests, and make sure you knew the content back to front before you went in.

some nights you would dance in the kitchen to your favourite oldies whilst cooking a dinner to watch in front of a good film; and it was those moments that you felt really connected him to you. but you thought it was just what best friends did.

as you looked up at him, lips thinning anxiously, dick's face softened, eyebrows upturning, the corners of his mouth pulling down.

"you just... kissed me," he breathed, his breath fanning your tingling lips. "why did you just kiss me?"

"why do you think, doofus?" you scoffed playfully, bringing a hand to softly nudge his shoulder, despite the bashfulness evident on your face. "i think i'm in love with you, too."

[staytheword]

clear skies

clear skies — one shot sequel of falling rain [ masterlist ] 

— bang chan x female reader. also features han jisung, lee know, yeji (itzy), and san (ateez).

— non idol au. friends to lovers. mutual pining, idiots in love, fluff, angst, drinking, explicit language, explicit smut, a lot of discussion around break-ups, closure, healing, etc. smut warnings (spoilers) — oral sex (m receiving), protected sex, some dirty talk, no major warnings.

— word count: 6.8k

— !! please consider reading falling rain before reading this, as it is a direct sequel and I fear it will make much less sense without the first part :') ♡

You and Chan are friends. Maybe a little more than that, after your night together. You find yourself healing, really healing, until your ex makes you question everything.

You knock on the door of apartment 6, nervously biting your lip. A few seconds later, it opens on Jisung. He looks like he just got out of bed although it’s early afternoon, which wouldn’t be surprising considering what you know of his sleeping schedule. 

“Y/N,” he smiles. “We don’t often see you around here. What’s up?” 

You show him the bag you’re holding. 

“Chan told me he was sick. I brought him some stuff.” 

Jisung gives you a long look but he opens the door so you can come in. You enter the apartment, taking a curious look around. You’ve only been here for parties, and nothing looks the same in the dark. In the direct sunlight of the afternoon, and without all the people, it feels like a whole different place. 

“Yeah, he told me he caught a cold,” Jisung says, hiding a yawn behind his hand. “No idea how.” 

“It’s been raining pretty bad these days,” you shrug. 

Jisung nods, still looking at you suspiciously. You do your best not to act differently than you do, hoping your friend isn’t as good at reading you as Chan is. Because you have no idea if Jisung knows about what happened. You haven’t told anyone yet, although you’re planning to spill everything to Yeji soon. You’re not sure how Chan feels about the other night - you’re not sure how you feel about the other night. 

But when he told you he was sick - because of you and the scene you made under the rain - you couldn’t just stay home. You had to make it up to him. So you got him soup from his favorite place, as well as a few snacks. 

“He’s in his room,” Jisung says eventually. 

“Thanks, Ji.”

“Sure. I’ll be here if you need me.” 

He gestures towards the couch, and you give him a smile. As you walk away, you see him hit the controller, and the show on the television starts playing again - although from what you can feel on your back, he’s staring at you. 

You knock on Chan’s door and a tired voice tells you to come in. 

He’s laying on his bed, half sitting up, playing on his Switch. His hair is a mess, and so is his room, but you don’t mind. All you see are his red nose, his chapped lips, the hazy look in his eyes. 

“Oh, Chan,” you sigh, and he chuckles. 

“I look that bad, yeah?”

His nasal voice clearly shows he’s sick, and you pout, closing the door behind you. 

“You didn’t have to come all the way here,” he says.

“I wanted to. I brought you a few things.” 

You sit on the bed next to him, opening the bag and taking out what you know are his favorite snacks, placing them on the desk close by. 

“And also this,” you tell him, removing the bowl of soup. 

As he recognizes the restaurant name on the lid, his eyes light up. One of his favorites. 

“Ohh. Ohhh.” 

“Thought that might make you feel better. Eat, while it’s still warm.” 

He giggles excitedly, his Switch abandoned next to him, and he sits upright, carefully taking the bowl in his hands. You just watch him as he takes his first spoonful, closing his eyes to savor the taste. 

“I think I’m cured,” he says with a laugh.

You smile affectionately, relieved to see he’s not too sick to eat. As your eyes linger on his face, you realize you can’t really stay. You have no reason to, after all. You look down at your hands. 

“Ji was highly suspicious of my visit,” you tell Chan. 

He frowns. “What did he say?” 

“Nothing,” you sigh. “But it was obvious.” 

“Well…” Chan swallows. “I didn’t tell him, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

You nod, but you’re not sure what to answer. You don’t know if you’re happy about that or not. 

“I’ve been too sick, didn’t feel right,” he explains, keeping his eyes on you. Despite their glassiness, you read them well. “Should I have?” 

“No,” you answer. “I mean - not if you didn’t want to. Of course not.” 

“Did you tell anyone?”

“No,” you say, looking up at him. “I want to tell Yeji, though. Is that okay?” 

He smiles. 

“Of course. I don’t want you to feel like it has to be a secret.” 

You sigh in relief. “I agree. It’s just… Some might not understand.” 

“We don’t have to tell everyone,” Chan shrugs. “We’re still friends, right? That doesn’t change.” 

You blink. 

Just you and me.

Just you and me tonight. 

“We are,” you smile, and you believe it. 

That night, Chan made you feel seen like you never had before. A part of you wonders if it means you have fallen in love. But as you sit next to him, looking at him eating his soup so excitedly, you realize it’s not. What you shared is special - and you told each other things that did matter, and that did change your relationship. But you are still yourselves. You don’t want to bury yourself in doubt. Not now. There are still things you need to figure out about yourself and what you want. 

You need to find yourself first so you can honor him. 

So you can love him like he should be loved. 

Maybe Chan can fall in love with you.

Maybe you can fall in love with him. 

For now, you are friends. 

A little more than that. 

But it’s still enough.

“So, yeah. We had sex.” 

Yeji gasps, putting a hand over her mouth. Despite the gesture, she does not seem that surprised, and you arch an eyebrow at her. 

“I mean -” she stammers. “It’s not that I’m not surprised, I’m just - well -” 

You let out a chuckle. “C’mon, spit it out.” 

She sighs. “I guess I just expected it to happen some day.” 

You take your mug in your hand, lifting it to your lips. The cafe is quiet tonight - it’s a weeknight, so the only people there are students catching up on studying and people talking casually. You adore this place - it’s close to your apartment, the coffee is good, and it’s never too busy. Yeji and you regularly meet up there for a pastry or a latte, as you are tonight. 

“So you knew, huh?” 

“Knew what?” 

“That he had a crush on me.” 

She shakes her head as you take a sip from your latte. Her hair is tied into a long braid today, and although she looks tired from work, she still manages to look breathtaking. That’s just Yeji. 

“No. I didn’t - not for sure,” she smiles. “I just had a feeling. Neither of you are really good at hiding how you feel.” 

You sigh, putting down the mug. “I guess you’re right about that.” 

She gives you a sweet smile. 

“So how was it?” 

“The sex?” When she nods, your smile can’t help but widen. “It was good. Really good.” 

“Really good, huh?” she giggles.

“Really good.” 

You keep laughing, and you indulge her when she asks for details. You have nothing to hide, anyway - you know you need to open yourself up to people, and with Yeji it’s always been easy and mutual. That’s something you learned, sometimes at a bitter cost. It’s all right to give to people, as long as they do the same. Throwing pieces of you into the void - that’s how you lose yourself. 

“I’m so glad, Y/N,” she says, putting her hand on yours. “You look good.” 

“I feel a little better. And it’s not even just Chan, you know. I think… In a way, I think I’m relieved, actually. About San.” 

Yeji gives you the time to measure the words on your tongue. You think about your ex, the one who loved you, the one who hurt you, and all the things in between.

“He has someone. He’s moved on. I can too. To see him heal - it helps me.” 

You’re not even lying. 

It’s not that everything is perfect again - of course it isn’t. But you’re putting the pieces of yourself back together, slowly. Learning to love again - yourself and others. 

It’s been about a week since Chan spent the night at your place. Since then, you’ve seen each other a few times, sometimes just the two of you, sometimes with others. When he recovered from his cold you went for brunch. To see a movie. You spent a night at the boys’ apartment to play board games. 

You haven’t slept together again. A part of you wants to, but you’re not interested in forcing it. The only time you almost did was back at his place, but Jisung and Minho had both been there, yelling nonsense in the living room. Not the most romantic background music. So you just held each other tight, exchanged a few kisses. Chan played with your hair. You put your hand on his chest to feel him breathe. 

You and Yeji talk some more, and then you decide to head back home, as you’re both working early the next day. After a hug, you give her a smile. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow night? At the party?” 

She gives you a surprised look. “You’re coming?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Honey…” She frowns. “You know San and his girlfriend will be there, right?” 

You nod. 

“I know. That’s all right.” 

She smiles, puts a hand against your cheek. “Healing looks good on you.” 

It’s one of the kindest things anyone has ever told you.

Healing is a complicated thing. 

Healing takes time, and healing is never a straight line. 

One moment you’ll feel you can take anything, and the next the ground shifts from under you and you collapse. 

You thought you’d be strong enough. 

You’re not. 

“I miss you,” San says, not even able to look at you. “I know it’s a shitty thing to say, I know I’ve been a dick, but… it’s the truth.” 

You did not expect this. 

You did not expect this at all.

You thought San was over you. But now, here he is, looking tired and anxious, telling you he’s broken up with his girlfriend because something didn’t feel right. Because he missed something. You. 

“I…” you stammer. “I don’t know what to say.” 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he breathes out. He’s tipsy, you know him well enough for that. His body sways a little as he shrugs. “I just wanted you to know.” 

“O-okay.” 

And just like that, like he hasn’t just dropped a rock in your throat, like he hasn’t just set off a bomb in your chest, he walks away. You stare at the back of his head, your fingers squeezing the bottle of beer in your hand. You’re glad it’s made of thicker glass, that it won’t crush under the pressure. Still, it feels brittle. 

You arrived at the party more than an hour ago, and you’ve been having a good time. You played a drinking game of cards, danced with Jeongin and Lily, flirted with Chan. The two of you are not together - but you’re not not together either. The night was going so well you barely noticed that San was not accompanied like he was supposed to be. He avoided you up until minutes ago, asking you if he could talk. Now you stand in the backyard, looking up at the night sky and wondering how your legs will be able to carry you home. 

You wish it would start raining. That would make more sense than the tears on your cheeks. 

You frown, shaking your head. You’ve been doing so well. Your heart was repairing itself, helped by Chan’s smile, by the strength you found in yourself through his eyes. After so much time in a relationship, you are actually enjoying some time on your own, even if a part of you belongs to Chan. He’s respecting the distance you need, never too close but never far. You like Chan. A lot. 

San misses you. 

You miss him too. 

Do you want him back? 

It would be so simple to fall back into it. Like letting your body float in safe waters, the current sweeping you away. Easing back into the comfort you had built together. But you can’t. You don’t love San anymore. He doesn’t love you anymore either. He’s just confused. He’s processing things in a different order from you. 

Right? 

Still, it would be so easy. 

“Y/N?” 

You turn around at the sound of Chan’s voice. It feels like a familiar song in the middle of a cacophony. He brings you back to that night, your limbs entangled on the couch, his chest moving up and down as he slept next to you. Being with Chan feels easy too, but it is more than that - it feels right. 

It also feels terrifying.

“Are you crying?” he frowns. 

You shake your head. “A little. It’s okay. It’s nothing bad.” 

“I just saw San walk away,” Chan says tensely. 

You can feel him getting angry, so you put a hand on his arm, trying to gather the right words. 

Chan sighs. “What did he say to you?” 

“Chan, please,” you breathe out. “Calm down.” 

“I just don’t want him to hurt you again -” 

“He misses me,” you interrupt him, meeting his gaze. Chan stops and looks at you. You can’t quite read his expression. “That’s what he told me. That he missed me. He broke up with the girl because of it.” 

Chan pushes his fingers against his temple. “That fucking asshole…” 

“Chan -” 

“No, Y/N.” It’s his time to interrupt you and you freeze on the spot. “I know what you will say, but that still doesn’t make it okay. He shouldn’t put this burden on you. Whatever his process is, it’s not fair to pull you in and out of it like he is.” 

Your mouth is dry. “I…” You don't even know what you want to say. 

“Please,” Chan says, taking your hand in his. The warmth it spreads on your fingers makes you realize how cold you are. “Don’t let him in.” 

His eyes are dark oceans you want to fall into. He looks so handsome, with his hair dancing in the breeze, his sharp jaw that you want to kiss. Those lips that were everywhere on you that night. Those fingers that held you tight. 

The pang of longing that passes through you makes you dizzy and you take a step back, removing your hand from his. You close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. This is a lot. This is too much. Your lungs burn and your heart is being torn apart.

What you want. What you need. What you can’t help but miss. 

“Y/N?” Chan asks so delicately it feels like a caress. 

You shake your head, holding a palm up, not even able to look at him. “I- I’m sorry. This is just a lot. I… I need to think, I…”  

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he says. “I’ll give you space. Do you want me to get Yeji, or anyone else?” 

You nod. “Yeji’s good.” 

“Ok. Ok. Stay there.” 

You let Chan walk away, and once you can’t hear his footsteps, you let your knees buckle. You collapse on the grass, bringing your legs against your body, the bottle of beer hanging pathetically from your fingers. 

You don’t know anything anymore. 

You’re mad. Sad. Confused. Torn. 

You look up at the sky, empty of clouds. There’s just nothingness there.

Why can’t it rain for once?

It’s been a few days since the party. Or you think it has. Time has been tricky, lately, twisting and turning in ways you didn’t expect it too. Days feel like seconds. Hours feel like weeks. 

Your head is laying on Yeji’s lap. She’s braiding it, the both of you watching your favorite show. You’ve seen these episodes a dozen times but you don’t care. It’s just so there’s noise instead of the deafening silence. Something to look at instead of the abysmal nothingness. Yeji made you sure you ate something. 

You’re going backwards.

A descent.

A regression.

Yeji calls it a bump in the road, but it doesn’t feel like a bump. It feels like a black hole sucking you in, tearing you apart at the seams. 

Chan is on your mind. His kindness, his eyes that understand you better than anyone does. San is on your mind. His comforting arms, his familiarity. You don’t know what to do. You feel stuck. You want to listen to your heart, but it has remained silent, like it wants you to make the decision. 

For now you have shut yourself off. You don’t answer anyone, except for Yeji. But then again, she forced the lock, sat you down and said, cry. Scream. Punch someone. I don’t care, but do something. You did all of those things. You cried, you screamed, and, well - you punched your pillow. 

Everything felt right. Now everything feels blurry. 

It was so hard to get yourself back on track, and now that you’ve derailed, you feel worse than before. It’s so stupid, too. They’re just boys. 

That’s what Yeji told you - and she’s terribly right. You can’t allow yourself to feel like this for boys. And yet you can’t shake the lethargy. So you decide to give yourself the time. Figure things out.

You owe it to the both of them.

Chan. San. 

Whatever the truth is, they deserve it. 

Yeji’s phone vibrates on the table in front of you and you sit up to let her answer it. Your eyes unconsciously fall on the screen, and you see Chan’s name. Your chest tightens and you look away. Yeji squeezes your hand.

“What’s up, Chan?” she answers. 

You can discern his voice, not what he says, and you try not to stare. Instead you grab the mug of tea you’ve barely touched and take a sip. It’s lukewarm. 

“I’m good,” Yeji says. “Just watching tv.” She pauses. “Y/N?” 

Your heart drops at the bottom of your stomach and you look up at your friend. You shake your head. 

“Yeah, she’s here,” Yeji continues. “But she’s asleep.” You smile faintly at her as a thank you. “Yeah, I’ll tell her you called. Okay. See you soon.” 

She hangs up, putting down the phone, and you wince. “Sorry you had to lie because of me.” 

“That’s okay, honey. I just…” She hesitates, but you nod, encouraging her to speak her mind. You need her to. “You know you can talk to Chan, right? He’s your friend, first and foremost. Whatever happened between you, whatever the feelings… He’ll listen. He cares.”

“I know,” you say faintly, playing with the blanket on your knees. “I just don’t even know what I would say. And if I see him… I’ll just get more confused.” 

Because Chan is a dream guy - handsome and kind, with the cutest smile. Because Chan will remind you of what happened that night, of the way he held you, of the way he made you shiver. 

Yeji smiles softly. “I understand. I just wanted to remind you.” 

“Thank you. I’ll try to text him later. I have to answer San, too, he messaged me like two days ago…” 

A sudden surge of anxiety overtakes you, and you breathe out. Yeji puts a hand on your leg. “Breathe, Y/N. One thing at a time.” 

“A part of me just wants to say, fuck it, I’m just going to be single, you know?” you chuckle, feeling the tears at the corners of your eyes. “I don’t need anyone. I’ll give myself time to heal. But when I tell myself that, then… I feel so empty. Like I’m making a terrible mistake.” 

You shrug. 

“The worst part is, I already know what I want,” you whisper. Chan. Chan. Chan. “But the past won’t let me go.” 

“The past doesn’t control you,” Yeji breathes, giving you a smile. “You control what hold it has on you. You have to let it go.” 

You wipe the tears from your eyes. “But what if letting San go is a mistake?”

“I think you already know the answer to that question,” Yeji tells you. “Missing someone doesn’t mean you still love them, or that you’re right for each other. It just means you care. It just means what you had was real - and moving on from it doesn’t take that away.” 

You breathe in slowly, giving your friend a tight hug. 

The skies will clear. 

And even if they don’t, the rain really isn’t that bad. 

Rain is cold, rain is heavy. But rain is a thing of beauty.

You hear the door close behind you and you pause. The relief is spreading through your body. The knots, untangled. The wounds, soothed. This will scar - but it will heal. It already is. 

A part of you can’t help it - you turn around to glance at the closed door. Apartment 2B. You spent so much time there, loving San, being loved by him. It felt right to return there to have the conversation you needed to have. Both of you, sober, calm, ready. I miss you too, you told him. But we don’t love each other anymore, and we have to let each other go. 

I know, San nodded. Or I’ll learn to know. He smiled then. You were always the strongest of us. 

You’re not sure it’s true, but you’ll accept it. Strength is something you have, strength is something you grow. It’s not constant. It’s not even logical. Even strength can break. Even strength can be weak. 

You leave the apartment building. Poetically, the rain from earlier has ceased. It still hangs in the air, hazy, leaving the streets wet. As you walk, you watch droplets fall from the tree leaves, distorted visions of the city and sky in puddles. Your umbrella is useless in your hand, still dripping from earlier. You spin it a little in your hands, making the water trapped in it dance. 

You know exactly what you will do next. 

Your next destination is not exactly close but you enjoy the long walk. The sky has gotten dark, your cheeks are a little red, and your heart is spinning. But you know this is what you have to do. You know it’s what you want to do. 

Once again, it’s Jisung that answers the door. When he sees you, he smiles playfully. 

“You’re around here a lot these days, Y/N. I wonder why.” 

You shake your head with an amused smile, refusing to encourage him. “And you’re too curious for your own good, Han Jisung. Is -” 

“Chan here?” he finishes, his grin widening. “Come in.” 

You nudge him by the elbow as he closes the door behind you, following him to the living room. You find Chan there with Minho, holding controllers, the coffee table covered in beer bottles and snacks. Jisung sits back down, pushing Chan’s hoodie back to reveal a chaos of brown curls. 

“It’s for you, lover boy.” 

Minho gives you a wave as he drinks a sip of beer, his eyes not leaving the television screen. Chan, however, looks up at you with wide eyes.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” 

You fidget a little, pulling on the sleeves of your jacket. “I wanted to talk to you. Do you have time?” 

“Y-yeah, of course…” Chan answers. He puts down the controller, standing up to meet you. Behind him, Jisung follows your conversation, not trying to be subtle in the slightest. “Is everything okay?” Chan adds in a whisper. 

You nod and smile reassuringly. “Yeah. Do you want to take a walk, maybe?” You are a bit tired from walking all the way here, but you’re not sure you want to do this inside. 

“Isn’t it raining?” Chan frowns. 

“It’s stopped,” you say, and Chan smiles. 

“Let me get my shoes.” 

You tell him to take his time, but Chan only heads towards the door and slips on his sneakers. You wave at Jisung and Minho, who you realize are now both staring at you suspiciously. 

“Ignore them,” Chan chuckles, putting a hand on your shoulder to guide you outside the door. 

The wind has picked up a little but it’s still not cold. You keep your hands in the pockets of your jacket, walking alongside Chan, who looks up at the now pitch black sky. There’s not much to see up there except the deep darkness - but perhaps Chan sees something you don’t. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

You walk for a minute or two, heading away from the busy street into a nearby residential neighborhood. It’s packed with huge houses, large lawns, neatly kept trees looming over your heads. Once in a while you feel a drop of rain fall on your head or your shoulders, but you don’t mind. 

“I’m just coming back from San’s,” you tell Chan, breaking the silence. You know he was waiting for you to speak first - giving you the time to find your words. 

He glances at you, looking concerned. “Oh?” 

“I felt we needed to have a conversation,” you nod. “I did a lot of thinking since the party and I just wanted him to know how I felt.” 

Chan breathes out. “How did it go?” 

“Good,” you smile. “I told him I missed him too.” You give Chan a look, but he’s staring ahead of him, lips closed, his hands behind his back. “But that it is over between him and me.”

Chan looks at you then. Is that pride in his eyes? 

“I didn’t mean to push you away,” you breathe. “That night at the party. And recently, not answering your calls. I just… I really needed to think.” 

“I know, love,” he says. The nickname tugs at your heart. You can’t ever get tired of hearing him call you that. “I never held it against you.” 

“And then I didn’t really talk to you, and -” 

“You needed to figure things out,” Chan softly interrupts. “You don’t have to apologize for that. You shouldn’t, even.” 

“But still. Things were good between us, and I’m scared I ruined everything,” you finally admit with a shrug, looking down at your feet.

Chan stops, taking you gently by the arm so you face him. He’s smiling, full lips curved upwards, his black clothes looking so cozy you wish you could cuddle up against him. 

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he frowns. “I mean, I don’t want to assume that there was anything between us, or that you have to -” 

“I like you.” It’s your turn to interrupt him. “I like you a lot, Chan.” 

He looks at you, and you let yourself get lost in his eyes. 

“You make me feel safe, and I have fun with you, and you get me. And if it’s something you want too, then I’d like to see where this could get us.” 

It feels good to let it off your chest - but it’s also much easier than you would have thought. You really mean it, you realize. Every word. Exploring a future with Chan is something you want, something your heart feels at peace about. 

You realize he still hasn’t spoken - but you’re not defeated by it. You just keep looking at him, smiling gently. 

“Please don’t feel like you have to answer now,” you whisper. 

He shakes his head and speaks in a whisper. “I’m just taking it in.” 

“What?” 

“You, telling me you like me back.” 

You blink in slight disbelief, letting out a laugh. You push your index against his chest. “You’re such a romantic, Bang Chan.” 

“Yeah, I am,” he laughs wholeheartedly, bringing you into his arms. You settle your cheek against his chest, your arms around him. He places a kiss on your hair, nodding to himself. “You better get used to it.” 

You stay like this for a minute, just breathing each other in, the wind swaying around you. You’re in Chan’s arms. He breathes alongside you. Your heart feels calm. Your heart feels free. 

“You know what I feel about you. It hasn’t changed. So can I take you on a real date now?” he asks, his fingers sliding in your hair, sending shivers through your entire body. 

You nod. “On one condition.” 

He leans back, finding your eyes. “Hm?” 

“Kiss me,” you breathe. 

He just grins, light shining in his eyes. His lips meet yours, delicately and lovingly, as if he wants to savor every second. You can believe it, because it’s the same for you. It’s a slow kiss, the kind that lasts for a lifetime, the kind you can’t ever forget. He tastes like trust, like the softest light, like rain that falls exactly at the right time.

You kiss for a long time, until your lips feel swollen, until your mouth is dry. Chan pushes his forehead against yours, stroking your cheek.

“How about we go home and get you warm?” 

You look up at him, your eyes twinkling in adoration. “Will you keep holding me?” 

He smiles. “I’ll never let go.”

Chan and you find the front door locked. He unlocks it, stepping inside an empty apartment. The bottles and snacks are still on the table, but the television is turned off and Jisung and Minho are nowhere to be seen. 

You remove your shoes, following Chan in the kitchen, where you find a note scribbled onto an old take out receipt. Out for drinks. Enjoy the empty apartment. 

Chan chuckles. “I guess they know.” 

You smile, wrapping your arms around Chan from behind. “I think Ji’s had his suspicions since I brought you soup.” 

“That was good soup.” 

He turns around, placing his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. Your hips almost meet his, making you feel a little dizzy. You place your palms against his chest, resisting the urge to slide them under his hoodie to feel his skin. 

“So…” you smile. 

“So,” he repeats with a chuckle. “What do you want to do?”  

You bite your lip, blushing slightly. 

“You want to… enjoy the empty apartment?” Chan suggests. You like his confidence, although you notice that his ears are bright red. 

You nod, stealing him a kiss. “I just want you.” 

He hums against your lips, his fingers digging into your skin. You take another step forward, decidedly pushing your hips on his, wrapping your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. Chan tilts his head, his mouth seeking yours, and you can feel him parting your lips slowly. He doesn’t want to insist, but you let him, your tongue meeting his. Instinctively you arch your back, your fingers brushing the back of his neck. 

“I’ve been craving you so much,” Chan whispers. “I just want to feel you around me again.” 

You clench at his words, letting out a small moan that gets lost in his mouth. “Fuck, Chan…” 

“I want to make you feel good,” he breathes, kissing you again, and you can feel his length harden against your stomach. “Will you let me, love?” 

“Please touch me, Chan, I missed you so much…”

Just like that, he picks you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He starts to walk, never ceasing to kiss you, as he brings you to his bedroom. Once you’re there, he pushes the door closed, and lays you down carefully on the mattress. He’s warm, his muscular thighs pushing yours apart so he can settle between them. Leaning down to kiss you again, your head falling against the pillow, he grinds his crotch against you - and you can feel your walls throb. 

There are too many layers of clothing to your liking, so you tug at his hoodie and Chan understands the signal. He removes it and his t-shirt in one movement, letting you touch his chest freely. His jeans hang low on his waist, so you trace his abdominal muscles, let your fingers wander on his back. 

Your clothes are next, Chan kissing you all the while he removes them. Soon you are naked under him, one of Chan’s hands holding your breasts, brushing the back of his thumb on the nipple. You shudder, Chan leaning down to swirl his tongue around it, sending waves of pleasure through you.

But there’s something you want. Something that you’ve wanted to do, something you’ve been thinking about. “Chan -” 

“Yes, love?” he whispers, coming back to kiss your neck, his tongue leaving wet trails on your skin. 

“I want to taste you,” you breathe, and he looks up to meet your eyes. You stroke his hair, feeling a little shy. “Please, I can’t stop thinking about it…” 

Chan closes his eyes. “Fuck, I almost came just hearing you say that.” 

You both chuckle, sharing a feverish kiss. You sit up, moving positions so that Chan is the one laying down under you. His eyes are darker than ever, his lips swollen from the kissing. You can’t get enough of him, feeling almost drunk as you leave a trail of kisses down his chest, unbuttoning his shorts and lowering them. His cock bounces free, already hard, but you remove his clothes completely before you come back to take it in your hand. Chan sits up a little, leaning against his pillows, and he’s able to look at you. Gently, you palm his length, moving your hand up and down. Your thumb rolls around his tip, spreading the pre-cum there, and Chan grunts at your gesture. 

His fingers hold your hair back, his eyes never leaving your face as you slowly jerk him off, loving the way his cock pulsates around your fingers. In fact you are clenching around nothing, aching for pressure. But for now you want to take care of him - you want to show him just how much he means to you, how eager you are for him. 

You flick your tongue at the tip of his cock and Chan lets out a low groan, pushing his head back into the pillows. You smile softly, wrapping your lips around him, his moans dancing to your ears as you start to bob your head up and down. You suck him slow, teasing him with your tongue at the same time, attentive to the sounds he makes. Sometimes he twitches a little, or his fingers will slightly pull at your hair, and you know you’re doing something good. 

Your fingers leave his base when you try to take him as deep as you can in your mouth, feeling your lips stretch, saliva and pre-cum coating his cock. 

“F-fuck - Y/N - fuck, that feels good…” 

A single hum escapes your lips, but you do not stop blowing him, perhaps taking too much pleasure at feeling him lose composure. His hips buck, and you do not stop. You join the movement of your hand twisting around his base with your mouth, and Chan’s grip on your hair tightens.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck - ah, don’t - ah, Y/N, stop,” he whimpers, and you move your head back, looking up at him with wide eyes. Chan takes a second to breathe out, and you feel his cock throbbing in your hand. “I’m going to come if you keep going,” he chuckles. “I want this to last.” 

You smile, crawling back up on the bed for a kiss, straddling him. “Was it good?” 

“So good, love,” he grins, kissing you. “So, so good.” 

You settle your drenched core against his cock, rubbing it up and down the length, moaning in response. 

“You’re so wet,” he whispers against your ear, licking it gently. You whimper, desperate for touch. “Can I fuck you now, love?” 

“Yes, please,” you moan. 

Chan is quick to grab a condom from his bedside table, wrapping it around his length before he guides it against your entrance. Slowly, you push yourself down, his cock stretching you. You close your eyes at the feeling, the pleasure making you dizzy. Chan pulls your upper body closer to his, playing with your breasts as he starts to thrusts his pelvis, entering you deeper each time. You roll your hips, finding a rhythm quickly. 

It feels so good to have him close, so good to let yourself go. Your heavy breathing mixes with his, touching his chest as he fucks you, and you’re both lost in the moment, not exchanging a word. He enters you deeply, his thrusts both gentle and passionate. It is not quick, but steady, every movement measured. 

You fuck like that for a while, just breathing and moving with each other, until your pleasure starts to ramp up. You are clenching around Chan, who grunts in your ear, and he holds your waist, anchoring himself there to accelerate his thrusts. He’s fucking you harder, and you cry out his name as you come. He follows you quickly in his release, breathing your name, making you feel whole like only he can. 

Both you and Chan breathe out, bodies slightly swaying like in a storm, holding each other tight. His arms around you, your fingers on his skin. 

Lifelines. 

After a little while he kisses your neck, your cheek, your lips. You sigh because you don’t want to move, although you know you have to. 

“My love,” he whispers. “How about a shower and some food, just the two of us?” 

You smile, leaning back to kiss his nose. “Just you and me?” 

He nods. “Just you and me.” 

That’s all you need.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you let the taste linger on your tongue. Just enough sweetness, hints of bitterness, the perfect balance. You’ve never eaten something that good, you’re almost sure of it. Chan, who is sitting in front of you, lets out a chuckle.

“That good, huh?” 

You let out a soft moan. “Best ice cream I’ve ever tasted.” 

Chan grins. “I know something that tastes better.” 

You push his leg under the table playfully and he chuckles, shaking his head, both embarrassed and amused by his dirty joke. You can’t stop looking at him. He looks so handsome in his fitted black shirt, just one button undone, a slim silver chain around his neck. When he showed up at your door wearing that, fitted black trousers and leather shoes, you almost pulled him into your apartment and abandoned the idea of going to the restaurant. But Chan had also been holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, his eyes sparkling with joy, and that made your heart dance in different ways. 

“Pardon my French, but you look fucking gorgeous,” he had said, leaning in for a kiss. 

You had hugged him, giggling like a teenager as he left a trail of kisses down your neck, his other hand touching the fabric of your black dress, exploring the way it hugged your body. You had to push him away and take the flowers from him - if you let yourself go against his embrace you knew you would never make it to the restaurant on time. 

Chan had made a reservation at a fancy place, not at all your usual style, but he had once gone with family and had loved the food, so he wanted you to taste it too. 

When you leave the restaurant, your belly is full, your heart content, your soul even more. You stop when you cross the door, however. While you were inside it started to rain. It’s not a drizzle - it’s heavy, cold rain, falling down straight and hard on the ground. 

“Damn,” you let out, glancing at Chan. “Should we wait it out, or…?” 

Something sparkles in his eyes, and he doesn’t need to speak for you to understand what he is thinking about. You let out a nervous giggle, giving him a single nod.

Chan takes your hand and the both of you dash into the rain. You let out a scream because the rain is cold, but you don’t stop. You and Chan run towards the car, crossing the parking lot as fast as you can. He doesn’t let go of your hand. 

You run fast, it feels like you have wings.

And yet, it’s like time slows down. 

You glance at Chan, his eyes disappear in crescents, his laugh the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. You can’t help it - you stop, pull on his hand and draw his body towards you. 

Under the falling rain you kiss. 

He kisses you back, his lips hungry and smooth. 

You slide an arm around his waist, and slowly, you start dancing. 

Chan bursts in laughter against your lips. He draws back, looking at you with tenderness spilling out his eyes, and joins you in the dance. For a minute or two, you dance under the rain. You turn, swirl, sway. You can’t stop laughing. 

You kiss again, and the rain starts falling harder on your heads, and even then you do not stop.

— the end.

Well, hello ♡ Believe me, posting was a surprise for me as well! But I found myself missing writing, missing sharing my writing with you, missing this. So here is the sequel that I once talked about, that has been written for a long time! I hope it's not too disappointing. I remember the writing of it very fondly. ♡ Please be kind as I haven't posted in forever haha.

Thank you for sticking around, thank you for reading me. I am so incredibly thankful. I don't think I'll create a taglist for now, so do not ask please ♡ I hope you enjoyed this, and please take care of each other. Love you all ♡♡

[revasserium]

had me at hello

todoroki shouto; 4,082 words; fluff, tiny sprinkle of angst, no "y/n", summer camp, canon-divergent, domestic fluff, teeth-rotting fluff, summer-time romance, self-indulgent as all living fuck

summary: nothing lasts forever, not even goodbye. or, in which todoroki shouto discovers that summer flings really aren't his thing

a/n: chat we are SO back. back on this todoroki brain rot GRIND!!! and as opposed to posting at the last possible second for @pixelcafe-network's challenge friday like i did last time, i'm posting mine first this time to make up for it! the theme was "saying goodbye to a summer love" ♡⸜(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)⸝♡

It was to be a whirlwind summer, one that’s different from every one that came before it. Todoroki had thought, naively, that summer training camp would end up being just that — just another summer thing.

And he’d never been fond of the heat.

But you — you’d swept in like the rain, all bluster and brilliant, summer-thunder laughter. You struck across his storm-ridden skies like a spark of lightning, setting all his forests ablaze.

At first, he didn’t think much of it. Didn’t think much of the volunteers that the Pussycats had brought along to help around camp. Groupies, he’d dismissed, and thought of it no more. But the first night everyone came back, exhausted and sore and sweating in places they’d never thought could produce sweat, you’d been there along with the others (he doesn’t remember their names now, but he remembers yours), passing around cold water and setting up the food for dinner.

“Here,” you hand him a water bottle; he dips his head, his chest still heaving from exertion. He twists off the cap and gulps down half the bottle, feeling a cool trickle escape the corner of his mouth to run down his chin. He wipes at it with the back of his hand just as you cast him a grin before turning around to hand another water bottle to Kirishima.

Todoroki swallows, his palms warm, watching as you laugh at something someone says. He lingers on the gloss in your hair and the ease of your smile. He wonders what kind of quirk you might have; he catches himself wondering, and then proceeds to wonder why he’s wondering at all.

He thinks it’s the heat — fanning himself, he looks away — glancing up at the smoldering sky before sighing and capping his water bottle.

“They must love you at school, huh?” you ask, your voice jolting him out of one reverie and into another. Dinner’s almost done, and he’d wandered toward the edge of the wood for a moment of quiet, of peace or sanctity. He hadn’t noticed you following him, and that in and of itself should have set his senses on high. But, the air is tepid and the humidity heavy, and Todoroki only has time to cock a single eyebrow before you smile and continue —

“Your quirk — keeps you cool in the summer, and warm in the winter. Useful, no?”

He watches you watching him, your eyes huge and full of the dancing flames. He looks back towards the rest of his classmates, all chatting and laughing, grouped loosely with one another, Ashido flitting from one group to the other like the social butterfly she is.

“It’s alright,” Todoroki answers, surprising even himself. He drops his eyes, fixing his gaze on a point just above his own feet before you laugh, the sound drawing his attention back towards you.

“You’re not a very good liar, but that’s okay. It’s not a bad thing.”

You shoot him another grin.

“Your quirk,” he says, clearing his throat slightly as he feels a distinct heat prickling up the sides of his neck, “can I ask what it is?”

You list your head to one side, your expression curiously blank. Before you shoot him a smile that can only be called devious.

You nudge him with an arm before dancing away, but that momentary contact is all you’d needed. Todoroki feels his whole body relax, feels some of the tension drop from his shoulders, the strange nervousness that had been coiling in his stomach unclench.

“Guess!”

Someone calls your name from over your shoulder.

“Coming!”

You give him one final wink before dashing off, leaving him dazed, head reverberating as if someone had rung him through like a bell on a Sunday morning.

The weeks had passed in a strange blur after that, as if some vengeful giant had gone stomping through his memories, dragging a large hand across the vivid scenes, smearing the colors and scrambling the timelines. He remembers the ever-present ache in his muscles, the eternal shortness of breath that had accompanied the first few weeks, but he also remembers your presence in the evenings — always in the evenings, the shadow of you flickering around each and every one of his classmates, mostly asking about their days, but sometimes placing a comforting hand here or there.

He remembers your touch well, the gentle anchor of it, the immediate relief.

“Your quirk… it has something to do with feelings, doesn’t it?” he asks one night, a towel draped around his shoulders from a recent shower, his hair still damp in the early evening dark.

You flash him an enigmatic smile, swinging your feet as you turn your head back towards the liquid moonlight casting pale shadows along the edges of the summer-still leaves.

“What makes you say that?”

“Just…” Todoroki joins you, letting his arm brush along yours, his eyes following your gaze as he too sweeps the now empty campgrounds, the remnants of the barbeque fires still smoldering in their pits, the smoke twisting towards the cloudless sky like so many misty-tendrilled streams.

“Had a feeling.”

“A feeling, huh?” you echo, laughing softly, looking back down.

Todoroki doesn’t push you, but you don’t deny it either.

“You’re not wrong,” you say, after a brief moment of silence, “my quirk — it’s not offensive, or even defensive but… if I’m touching someone, I can… siphon their feelings into me,” and as if to demonstrate, you gently press your leg to his, and Todoroki feels the tired wariness drain from him, the feeling of ease trickling through him like hot water cascading down his skin.

He stifles a soft groan, feeling a blush press up against his cheeks.

You move your leg away, leaning back till your head is resting against the back of the park bench, poised at the edge of the large encampment.

“But that’s…” Todoroki searches for the right word — somehow ‘useful’ doesn’t seem quite right.

“No, you’re right,” you say, giggling even as you save him the necessity of finishing his sentence, “it’s a good quirk to have. It’s… necessary.”

But the way you say that word sounds a little too much like heartbreak for Todoroki to ignore.

“You said siphon…” he says, after a brief stretch of quiet, and he tastes the word on his tongue as if saying it for the first time.

“Yeah, that’s right,” you say, and longing is too close a friend of his for him not to notice it threaded through your voice like a secret.

“Which means… whatever you take from the person you’re touching… you have to feel it too, right?”

You lick your lips, your eyes flickering down to your hands, palms open.

“Yes.”

It’s a simple answer, but one that lands with a gut-punch of implication. Todoroki swallows, shifting ever so slightly to let his knee rest against yours. He tries his hardest to focus on calmness, to project relief. You turn to flash him a smile.

“You’re sweet,” and he hadn’t meant to blush, hadn’t meant for his heart to kick up like a drumbeat, but does. And he knows, instinctively, that you’d felt it too — passing through from his skin to yours by some strange glitch of nature.

He makes to pull away, but you reach out to rest a hand on his arm.

And almost instantly, he feels his heartbeat calm, feels the heat receding. But it isn’t like before — it isn’t the feeling of having something leave his body, but rather having something pressed in. Like a warm blanket settling over his shoulders, or a cold hand to ward off unwanted heat. Your calm seeps into him like summer rain, cooling his mind until he’s breathing steady.

He blinks down at you, startled.

“It goes both ways,” you say, and he can see the twin glow of warmth high in your cheeks. He spares a moment wondering if that blush had once belonged to him, if you were just holding onto it for a bit longer before letting it go. You move your hand away and he has to fight down the urge to pull it back.

“Oh,” is the only thing he can think of to say.

You are everywhere after that — perhaps not in the physical sense, but Todoroki seems to have lost the ability to not notice you. Or maybe he’s just gained the ability to — to what? Develop a crush? Is that even what this is? He doesn’t know — he’s never had one before to compare it to.

But he can’t help now how instantly his attention snags on the sound of your voice, like a stray thread on a mesh-wire fence, or how an unshakable shiver traces down his spine whenever you’re near. He feels childish, like he did when he was too little to control his quirk. But he’d learned since then, hadn’t he?

Hadn’t he?

“It’s all just hormones!” he overhears Ashido say to Uraraka one night, the girls all clustered together on a single long sofa, limbs against limbs, cheeks pillowed on shoulders, a careless sort of closeness threading them all together. Todoroki’s never thought himself a jealous person, but watching them now, he wonders what it might be like to be able to touch a person with little to no thought at all, for it all to be second nature.

Uraraka blushes something furious, crinkling her nose.

“I — I don’t know…”

“I’m pretty sure whatever Mineta-chan is feeling can’t just be explained by hormones,” Asui says, her eyes huge and dark even as Ashido rolls her eyes.

“Maybe not just hormones, but that’s a large part of it!” Ashido insists.

Dangling on the side of the sofa, one foot tapping to music only she can hear, Jiro glances over and shrugs.

“Boys are weird.”

The girls all make varying sounds of agreement, and Todoroki forces his feet to move, thankful for the thick slab of shadow that had kept him from view of the general common area. He stares ahead as he walks down the long length of hallway, wondering if hormones really are the culprit behind whatever the hell this is.

The grueling days bleed into sweat-slick weeks, and somehow, he finds himself seeking you out more and more often. Sometimes after a particularly hard training session, under the guise of needing some “help” recovering (it had come out that Recovery Girl couldn’t make it so the Pussycats had volunteered you as the next best thing), sometimes without any reason at all, other than the simple want of your company.

He finds himself laughing, finds himself reaching for you — and he blames it on the weather, blames it on the tiredness now eternally sunk into his muscles, the soreness that won’t ever quite go away. He tells himself that it’s just a summer thing, to feel so hot that he gets lightheaded, to laugh until his stomach hurts, to feel the inexplicable itch to graze your hand with his when you’re sitting too close and not nearly close enough.

Thinking back, he’d known it would never last. You’d told him early on that you don’t live in the city. But that it’s not too far, if ever he wanted to visit.

“Camp’ll be over in a few weeks,” you say, lying back on a patch of sun-dried grass, beneath a swirling canopy of stars, Todoroki sitting beside you, his arms propping up his torso as he stares up at the sky alongside you.

“Yeah. I’m surprised it’s been so peaceful,” he says.

You laugh, shooting him a curious look.

“Used to getting in trouble?”

“There… seem to be a few of my classmates that attract trouble. Of all kinds.”

“I don’t mind a bit of trouble.”

“Don’t you?”

You grin up at him as he glances down at you.

“Not one bit.”

You feel him shifting as he lies down next to you, your elbows brushing in the grass. He feels a jolt of electricity snake up his arm, coiling in the base of his belly. For a second, he wonders if its a him-feeling, or a you-feeling. And then, he realizes that it doesn’t really matter — and before he knows it, he’s twisting to his side, leaning over just far enough to press his lips to yours.

In the grand scheme of kisses, Todoroki thinks that it might not have been the most well-positioned kiss, or the most well thought-out. And for all everyone calls him genius, this is one thing he’s never really had the chance to practice. Still, by the time he realizes that he’s kissing you, he barely has the chance to reconcile with the fact that you’re kissing him too. You, pressing up against him and pulling him down all at once.

His lips on yours, and yours on his — an endless echo of this kiss, and this kiss, and just this kiss. He feels his heartbeat like a reverberation, because he thinks he can feel yours too. He loses feeling in all his limbs, and wonders briefly if this is what free-falling might be like — to feel weightless, to be lifted outside of yourself.

You reach up to press a hand to his cheek, and he feels himself being shunted back into his body. He feels each of his limbs like discovering them for the very first time — his fingers tangled in your hair, his other arm wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you in, holding you close. He does not remember pulling away. But he must have, because he remembers gasping for a breath he’s long since lost to the heave of your lungs.

He feels fire, and ice, and the spinning song of a million overhead stars.

“Is this — are you —” he struggles for words but you just smile.

“I don’t know — sometimes when I’m too —” you swallow, a bit breathless yourself, the head-thrumming heat of it all passing between the pair of you like a whisper, or a secret, “when I’m too excited I — I’ll accidentally make someone else feel it too but —”

You look back up to catch his eyes, and he finds himself smiling.

“It’s not just you,” he says, quiet and sure. Because this, whatever this is, is more than just a quirk — more than just the accidental bleeding of feelings from one body to another. More than simple empathy — it’s entropy.

A chaos of feelings.

Because he’d felt it bubbling inside him, alone at night, staring up at the moon-slatted ceiling. Wondering what it might be like to hold your hand.

And maybe this is what Ashido had been talking about — with hormones and urges and all the woes that come with being a teenage boy. But he doesn’t care; there’s time to worry about that later. For now, he thinks he’d just like to kiss you again.

And so, he does.

Time passes by strangely after that — and though neither of you had intended on it, the budding relationship between the pair of you had become a known secret. No one had ever called it out by name, but no one questions Todoroki either when he wanders off after dinner. No one blinks twice when you press a hand to the back of his neck after morning drills, smiling when he lets out a soft, pleased sigh.

Even years later, Todoroki can’t quite piece together the exact timeline of things. He remembers the late nights, staying up just to talk to you, wandering through the woods, you jumping at a rabbit or a squirrel, and him slipping his hand through yours with a silent reassurance. He remembers telling you about himself — even though he doesn’t remember you asking. About his father, his mother, his siblings, his scar.

He remembers how you’d reached out and held his anger and sorrow and resentment in your upturned palms, how you cradled them like bruised fruit, with delicate fingers and a smile that looked not one bit like pity. How you did not run.

He remembers you telling him about your childhood too, of your quirk being used and abused by careless adults and ruthless children alike. Of how your parents had used you as one might use a bad therapist, like a dumping ground for unwanted emotions. Of how you learnt to deal with the unbearable weight of all those feelings — things that a little girl should never have to learn how to deal with on her own.

He remembers how you held him and he held you, and how you both had allowed yourselves to hold and be held by each other.

But what he remembers most is the ending — the last night of camp, when he knew he’d be leaving the next morning. All the bags are packed, and they’d all come out stronger. It had been an uneventful, tiring sort of camp, where nothing happened except daily training, but for a class full of teens with super-human powers and the uncanny ability to attract life-threatening situations, it could be called a resounding success.

“Excited to be going back to school?” you ask.

He watches you drag a pale pink nail polish over your fingers, one by one, blowing on each finger as you smooth out the color with steady swipes.

“I guess so. We have provisional license exams coming up, so I doubt we’ll get much rest after this.”

“Aww… but I guess no one ever said becoming a hero was an easy thing, right?” you laugh, tossing him a good-natured wink.

He sighs, leaning back against the wall of your camp room.

“Nothing worth having is ever easy.”

“Hm…” you hum, finishing off your manicure and carefully screwing the brush back into the nail polish bottle.

Todoroki turns to find you frowning slightly at your nails.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just…” you press your hands carefully into your lap, “it got me thinking — this was… easy, wasn’t it?”

And he doesn’t have to ask what you’d meant by this. Because he knows. And with a jolt, he realizes that yes. This was easy. It was so easy, being with you, in this secluded place. So easy to laugh without worrying about the outside world, to forget, if only for a while.

Easy to kiss you, to hold you, to push away the thoughts of tomorrows and endings until — well.

“Yeah…” Todoroki breathes, “I guess… I guess it was.”

Silence blooms between you like a plume of smoke.

“But… I mean,” you say, waving your hands through the air to help your nails along, before slumping back into your pillows, “it was never going to be forever, right?”

And this time, Todoroki can’t quite tell if you’re talking about this or perhaps — he can’t help the tiny bead of hope coalescing in his chest — a future where your goodbye is the thing that doesn’t last forever.

“No,” he answers, allowing himself a small smile as he looks down at his own hands, “nothing really ever is.”

You giggle, rolling over to peer at him from your stomach, “You’re so serious.”

But by the time he lifts his head, you’d already crawled over to press your lips to his. It’s a sweet kiss, a simple kiss, and Todoroki feels his chest seize inside him, his arms going heavy with a liquid weight. When you pull away, he notices your eyes are fractured with tears. You wipe them away with a laugh.

“Look at me — I’m so silly.”

Todoroki shakes his head, reaching out to cup your cheeks gently between his hands, the way you’d taught him to with his own jagged emotions. And he feels it then, your sadness, your uncertainty, the stomach-twisting knowledge of endings.

“The beginning might’ve been easy but… this isn’t.”

You hiccup, going still as he holds you.

“So… I guess we were worth it after all, huh,” you say, looking down at the space between you.

Todoroki nods, leaning forward just enough to press his forehead to yours, nudging your nose with his for a second before bringing you in for yet another kiss. He pulls away and tastes salt on his lips.

“That’s how we know — because the ending is hard. That’s how we know it was worth it.”

When the next morning comes, you don’t cry when you wave them all off, though many of the girls are. You catch his gaze and hold it for just a second longer than you’d done with anyone else. Beside him on the bus, Aoyama makes a soft, knowing kind of noise.

“Ah… first love is always such sweet despair,” he says, twinkling in his usual way.

Todoroki clears his throat, leaning back in his seat, a strange stillness settling over him as he thinks about the days ahead.

“Yeah, I suppose it is,” Todoroki says, to Aoyama’s dramatic surprise. But he recovers quickly and begins a soliloquy about something or other that carries them all the way back into the city, and to their assigned dorms.

He never forgets you, though there are moments when he’d wonder if that summer had really happened. Years later, when the memories have all gone watercolor-pale, and the edges blurred with time, he’ll still find himself reaching into the part of his mind that feels like the soft, steady weight of your hand on the back of his neck to calm him down, the smooth of your skin as you’d pressed against him and held him close.

And then, the year that he turns 24, it happens — he’d been called out into a small town just outside Shizuoka, for some kind of event that Fuyumi swears would be good for his publicity (as if he needed any more). Even after all these years, it still unsettles him to travel alone to these places, and he subconsciously reaches for the feeling of your palm pressing to his skin.

“Shouto?”

He turns at the sound of his name, and though a part of him assumes it’s yet another adoring fan, the deepest, most honest part of him whispers that it isn’t — that he knows this voice.

“Oh… its you,” the words slip from him like pebbles into a thawing stream.

And there you are, standing feet from him, your arms full of groceries, a red and white muffler strung around your shoulders, looking every bit as brilliant as the you from his memories.

The smile that splits your face is beautiful as heartbreak.

“Well, someone very wise once did tell me that nothing lasts forever… not even goodbyes.”

Todoroki takes half a step closer to you, a smile spreading across his own lips as he reaches out to help you with your groceries, taking the bags into his arms. The movement as natural as coming home.

“Yes but… I was thinking about it the other day and —”

“Oh? Just the other day?” you tease, bumping him slightly with your elbow was you set off down the half-empty street. It’s almost sundown, and the days are getting shorter again. Your breath fogs up the air before you and Todoroki suddenly thinks that winter looks good on you.

Even better than summer had.

“Yeah, but I realized…” he says, casting his eyes up at the cloud-strewn sky, the colors fading fast, the thick velvet of night inching up across the world like a curtain being drawn.

He turns his eyes back towards you, only to find you watching him with an indulgent smile on your face.

Todoroki blushes, feeling suddenly bashful, like the teenage boy he was when you two first met.

“I realized,” he says again, determined to finish his thought this time, “that when we first met… we never really said hello.”

be part of my taglist!

[bonny-kookoo]

Bonny!! Can we please get more Lo:Yoongi and OC? Like maybe her transition into being Queen/ or him courting her.

Him courting her is so cute honestly haha

All the workers at the palace are talking about you.

Mostly, because ever since the King had chosen you, he himself has been slowly changing. And while a lot of people were worried he might become weak after what happened during the fight with Jungkook, it's clear now that that's not the case at all.

He's just a lot calmer now, having realized that he has now a person he can find some quiet company in.

You don't expect anything from him at all- you cared for him when he was injured with hands so gentle, and you're always understanding of his rough tone and even rougher ways of handling the palace and it's daily tasks. Even though your kind despises violence, you accept that his does not, and actively uses it to solve their issues.

Yoongi, at the end of the day, is a king who earned his crown through bloodshed and death. And one day, his own will be taken the same way.

But until then, he will let himself enjoy those tender moments you're gifting him- just like today, as he has his head in your lap, both of you sitting outside in the palace gardens, birds flying overhead across the skies while the fountain runs a few meters away from you. He's rarely ever felt this calm before, your hand on his shoulder, while you let him rest for once.

Yoongi has never wanted his spot.

With his father forcefully challenging him when he was just about old enough to be considered somewhat of a man, he had no choice but to see it through- killing his father that day, cries of his mother forever edged into his mind. He doesn't know where she is today- most likely passed away already, though even if not, he'd never be able to see her again.

The partners of Kings who lost their crowns are exiled, after all.

"I'd like to offer you something." Yoongi says, eyes still closed as he speaks.

"..huh?" You wonder, unsure what he means. "Like a present?" You ask, and he nods.

"Yes. A gift." He clarifies. "I have yet to properly court you."

"Oh that's not.. that's not necessary at all." You giggle. "I'll stay with you either way, for as long as you'll want me." You tell him, and at that, his eyes open.

"I know." He responds. "But you live here now, amongst my people. And it is my people's way to properly court a partner." He explains.

"Alright, I'll accept it then." You agree, and he quiets down at that, before he moves, face turning to look up at you.

"What would you like?" He asks. "I just.. realized I do not know what you.. like, and what not." He explains, eyes moving away from yours in thought. "I should most likely.. have more conversations with you.." He mumbles to himself.

"I mean, we're talking right now?" You say, and at that, he looks at you again, before he moves to sit up next to you, seemingly searching for something in your face.

"We should.. talk more often." He says. "I enjoy talking to you."

"Me too." You say, smiling at him. "Oh, you have a petal there-" You say, moving closer to blow a stray petal from the blooming trees off of his hair- and when you move back to tell him it's gone, you're met with his eyes wide open, staring at you. "-uh.. did I do something wrong?" You ask, unsure, your words making him snap out of whatever trance he was just in.

"Are you trying to play with me?" He challenged, eyes narrowing as they stare you down.

"I- no? I just blew the petal off-" You explain yourself, when he cuts you off.

"I know that humans show affection by kissing their partners." He tells you, and at that, you realize what he probably thought you were leaning in for.

"Oh- Oh, no, I wouldn't-" You start, and his head tilts to the side at that.

"You wouldn't kiss me?" He asks, amused by the way you seem to get shy now.

"No! I would but-" You continue, and suddenly, you can make out the hint of a smirk on his lips.

"Then what is speaking against it right now?" He asks. "We are partners. I believe that this gesture is more than appropriate right now." He tells you, before he leans in now, coming closer to you. "Or maybe that could be my.. gift to you?" He proposes, and you swallow thickly, thinking about it.

You do like him. And he's right- nothing speaks against it.

"I think.. it could definitely be considered.. a gift of sorts." You say, and he smiles a little more now.

"Well then?" He says. "I need an appropriate.. demonstration." He tells you, and at that, you gather all your courage, and move forward to just peck his lips-

but he makes it clear right away, that a quick little peck was not what he was looking for.

[zhongrin]

501 sys̵̜͌tǝm¿eŗ̴̦̗͑̈rọ̷̭̆̑̕̚͝Ȑ̶̨̅̾̔͊r̸͎̜̱̀̚r̴̰̖̪̯̯͛̈́͒̅r̵̨̢͎̣͖̻̜̙̣̦̦͉̝̣̦̯͎̙͓̹̤͈̦̼̺͇͂̅̔̆̋̈́̈͛̃ɹ̷̗̟͒̊̓͋r̵̙̟͇̝̾̆ͅR̷͍̙̺̯̽̔͑̿̂ͅr̸̲̫͖͓͒̋r̵̼̳͉̻̎̿͌́͘ɹ̶̛̤̹̪̪͍̅̽ᴚ̶̛͎̖͖̀̅̒ͅɹ̵̥͉̭͇̅ͅɹ̶̢͎̥̩̟̀

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, tighnari, cyno, al haitham

◇ tags ◇ yandere!character, implied slight yandere!reader (al haitham), petnames (my love, dear - zhongli), spoiler for cyno’s story quest (tighnari)

◇ a/n ◇ @abyssmal-skies psy you probably already forgot this prompt but this is still your fault just so you know-

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

your lover might have used a knowledge capsule containing unknown information - but hey, what’s the worst that could happen, right?

... right?

“how peculiar,” zhongli comments as he inspects the capsule’s chassis, the greenish glow making his eyes darken into a brownish shade, “you said this contained information about a prophecy of a future disaster that is foreseen to befall liyue?”

if there’s anything you can confidently say about your lover in certainty, it’s the love he holds for the nation he creates. and so, when you stumble upon the seller, as shady looking as she was, you couldn’t just walk away.

“that’s what the merchant said,” you say, fingers twisting in worry, “i did think it was a scam, but i mean - sumeru is the land of the god of wisdom, and these are lord kusanali's inventions. though there’s a chance that it’s not going to be useful, there’s also a chance that whatever is in that capsule would still be beneficial, at least?”

“hmm. well, it is right of you to worry. however, i do agree. gaining more knowledge is, more often than not, a good thing. besides, seeing as you’ve paid for the item, it would be a waste to not use it. i see no harm in perusing it as intended, but just in case, let me do it first.”

the akasha terminal glows as he connects with the capsule, amber eyes closing, his brows furrowing in concentration as the information transferred directly onto his mind. the whole process barely lasts for five seconds, but you wait anxiously and inches closer to your lover as his eyes open-

“….. zhongli?”

he blinks once, slowly, as if he has to clear his mind out from a daze before he turns towards you. the same gentle smile spreads on his lips, yet you can’t help but feel that something is… amiss.

and then you realize his gloved fingers are locked onto your wrists in a vicelike grip.

“dear, you were right.”

“huh?! wait, is a disaster really going to befall liyue?! that’s bad, we should inform the qixing-”

“there is no need for that.”

“huh? what do you-”

“as long as you’re safe, it doesn’t matter. now, let’s forget about the insignificant things. are we not on a vacation? you said you wanted to see sumeru’s local products, yes? i believe there is a marketplace called the grand bazaar-”

as he leads you toward the direction of the bustling street, you stare at him in confusion. he looks and acts just as loving as your beloved, and yet this can’t be the same man that you know - your zhongli would have put liyue as his first priority.

“wait. wait, please - what… what was in that capsule?! we have to go back to that merchant! something’s clearly wrong-”

“nothing’s wrong, dear.”

the hold he has around your wrist tightens, nails (talons?) digging into your skin, and your eyes water in both pain and panic at this point.

your zhongli would have never hurt you like this.

“no! you-you’re scaring me! let go of me!” you try to jerk your arm away to escape from his grasp, but the effort you put in merely makes him sigh in calm disappointment.

a gasp escapes your lips when the ex-archon suddenly pulls you closer with a harsh tug, your body colliding against his as his other arm circles around you to rest on your back.

“don’t flail about like that, my love. what if you hurt yourself?”

your zhongli would have never made you feel unsafe. and yet as you look into the same amber eyes, instead of the usual warmth spreading across your body, all you could feel in your chest is the coldness of fear.

perhaps this really would be the downfall of liyue, for since the first time after its creation, their god has finally abandoned them?

“[name], where’s that package from akademiya-”

tighnari’s question halts when his eyes swept across the darkened empty room. though your curtains are drawn and normal humans would only be able to barely make out silhouettes of the furniture, he can clearly see that you’re not inside.

with a confused hum, he snoops on your desk, knowing that you won't mind. one object, in particular, catches his eye.

that knowledge capsule must be the so-called ‘package’ from the akademiya.

tighnari clicks his tongue and approaches your desk, lifting the item, which casts a bright pulsing green light into his eyes.

well. best to get this over with as fast as possible.

he has to fiddle a bit with his akasha terminal, but the process comes naturally to him. knowledge rushed into his consciousness, but as the first stream hit he immediately knew something was wrong.

the world fades to black momentarily as the data transfer commences.

…

…

…

the capsule drops with a loud thud on your bedroom floor. ears flicking, tail swishing in agitation, the forest ranger stared in a daze as a sense of urgency suddenly built up inside of him.

his baser animal instinct hisses and snarls.

how could he be so nai̴ve?

wrong. you’re not here. it’s all wrong.

he has to get you.̶

he has to get you and bring you into his nest, where you belong.

nȯ̷͓ͅw.̷̡̢̧͈͈̌́̂

his legs move before he could finish the thought. in his hurry, he forgets to close the door completely. the eerie glow of the knowledge capsule casts an ominous luminescence onto a fallen piece of paper on the wooden floor.

“[name], we found this on yesterday’s patrol in one of the abandoned camps. there were loads of empty crates and a list of ‘client names’. we know what it is, but we’re not sure how to use it (and whether we should even try to) and we don’t know what its contents are; maybe you can ask tighnari to advise on what to do about it?”

the metal cuffs he used to detain the criminal clatter against the wooden desk, and cyno sighs tiredly as he slumps onto the chair. yet another criminal jailed and waiting for trial. the scholar just had to make it difficult for both of them, refusing to come with him and always trying to escape his watch.

now’s that’s all settled with, however, here comes the harder part.

vermillion eyes fall onto the papers and the bag of evidence, and he sighs once more, although this time it was more of an 'i really don't want to do this' sigh. but cyno is dedicated and diligent, and so, despite his dislike towards the activity, he proceeds to fill in the reports.

yet moments later, he stumbles upon a question he could not answer.

— what is the content of the stolen knowledge capsule?

….

well, only one way to find out.

the sensation of using a knowledge capsule washes over him. for a short duration, he was rigid, unable to focus on anything but the sudden onslaught of information poured into his head-

cyno’s fist hits the wooden table when the link disconnects.

his eyes squeezed shut. his head swirls. his heart rate steadily escalates.

his mind is full. so full. overflowingly full. overwhelmingly full.

of yoǘ̶ͅ.

“[name].”

his chest tightens.

“[name]. [name]. [name]. [name]. [name]. [name]-̴̙͎̠͆”

out of the corner of his eyes, he catches the glint of metal (strong, durable, steady). his hand reaches out to take the object, fingers carefully tracing the material (cold, unlike your warmth, which he misses so dearly). it’s dirtied and he’ll have to wash it first (for nothing shall sully your skin), but it would do.

no dirty blood should touch your skin. no eyes should fall onto your beautiful visage. no. you are pure and good and his. how had he not realized this before? this should have been the bare minimum for you! he is your protector. he is the very definition of just and he is the only individual who is suited to keep you saf̶e.

“wait for me, [name].”

he h̴̹̎as to keep you safe.

your lover is, for the most part, always rational and seemingly indifferent to his surroundings.

which is exactly why you love riling him up. pressing buttons and flicking switches to see which ones trip him up the most, which makes him flustered, which makes him tick. it’s a fun little game, and you know al haitham finds amusement in it too, despite his ‘complaints’. it’s a dynamic that works out wonderfully, you think.

but sometimes, you want more.

“-and what, pray tell, were you discussing? why would you waste your time talking to kaveh of all people?”

“oh come on, don’t be mean! kaveh’s great. it wasn’t a waste of time at all!”

“having insubstantial conversations are categorized as ‘wasting time’, i believe.”

mo̷re.

“oh, haitham... just admit that you’re jealous.”

“what a ridiculous accusation. why should i be afraid of some mindless fool flailing to sweep you off your feet? he is incapable of doing so.”

“oh i dunno, his latest design for his thesis was quite awe-inspiring. i think he really nailed the functionality and aesthetic down,” you tap the knowledge capsule with your fingers with a wink and a cheeky grin, “you should see it for yourself. i’m sure you’ll change your mind.”

your boyfriend regards you with an unimpressed frown, although he can’t fight the curiosity of his scholarly mind to draw his focus onto the said contraption within your grasp. with a knowing giggle, you toss it towards the scribe and shrug, announcing that you were going out to get some food after a quick wash-up.

𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒌

𝒕𝒐𝒄𝒌

m̸͎͗ore.

𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒌

𝒕𝒐𝒄𝒌

you barely made it two steps out of the bathroom when you’re cornered by your boyfriend. the red lines on his eyes seem to be shining as much as the reds of his terminal, and you tilt your head in question.

“so? how was kaveh’s-”

“don’t.”

the harsh grip on your shoulder and the hard wall your back smacked onto made you wince, but al haitham barely bats an eye from your distress.

“stop saying his name. st̵̲̾op saying other people’s name.”

a shiver runs up your spine, and you silently nod. there’s an exhale of breath before a soft pressure rests against your forehead. through your lashes, you see him melt against you, eyes closed. red. green. red. green-

“i’ll go get that food first, okay?”

-red.

“don’t. stay̵̠̘̙̩͛ here. i’ll go.”

red. red. red.

“here’s the rest of the payment, dori.”

“ohoho~ splendid! always so pleased to do business with you!”

“oh no, the pleasure is mine.”

“i presume the capsule is working as intended, then?”

“it was adorable, the way he comes running like a puppy to his master.”

“gosh~ out of all my customers, you sure are one of the strange ones….. [name].”

you chuckle and wave her goodbye, quite sure that your lover was going to turn port ormos upside down any time now, when he finally realizes that you’ve given him the slip.

oh, you’re so looking forward to this pleasant change in your life.

© zhongrin | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

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