#i like pining dys can u tell. can u tell

[hirokiyuu]

i mentioned on the dys>sol/nomi i was gonna be posting more of my fic backlog on here and then Did Not Do That..... until now! have some dys>sol>cal. 'you sure write a lot of dys>sol where sol likes other people' yeah. yeah. i won't lie to you guys tho this run does eventually end w/dys/sol but. u kno. takes a bit :)

aaaaanyways please enjoy this Unrequited Teen Angst WWWWWWW set during early year 16!

is that the sun i see (or am i just being greedy); 700 words

Sol’s weirdly moody on the transport. Usually even if he’s quiet, he’ll be fiddling with his holopalm or listening to music or something, but today he’s in the very back, just staring out at the scenery, and when their eyes meet for half a second he doesn’t even smile. Sol always smiles when he sees Dys, which honestly used to kind of weird him out but these days… does not do that.

Still, as the team files out of the transport and breaks off into pairs, Dys keeps an eye on him instead of scouting ahead like normal -- which ends up being a good thing, because after about fives minutes out by themselves Sol suddenly lets out an enormous groan and slumps over, hunched in over himself. And Dys can’t feel fear but his heart’s pounding anyways as he runs over, careful to keep an eye on their surroundings as he leans over and says, urgently, “Sol, what --”

The moment his hand touches Sol’s back Sol jumps, enough to send himself falling back on his ass in the dirt, eyes wide with surprise like he hadn’t heard Dys sprinting towards him. “Dys?” he sputters, before glancing around. “I thought -- I mean, don’t you normally go on ahead…?”

He doesn't look hurt at all, though on closer inspection there’s bags under his eyes Dys’s never seen on his face before. “I mean,” says Dys, who can’t bring himself to say I was worried about you, “you were acting weird, so….”

“Oh,” says Sol, before managing a tiny grin up at him. “That’s… that’s really nice of you. Thanks.”

“Whatever.” Ugh. He can feel his stupid face going red. The worst part is that he can’t even leave, not with how Sol’s smile is still wobbling at the edges. “...Are you okay?”

“Oh, well, um… I mean, that’s….” The smile slides off Sol’s face piece by piece, until he gives up on it all at once and sighs miserably, pulling his knees in close until he’s curled up on himself in the dirt. “No.”

Dys… can’t even pretend to be surprised. Slowly he sits down next to Sol, watching as Sol leans forward to rest his chin on his arms, for once not even fidgeting. “...It’s stupid,” says Sol, finally. “It’s really stupid, and you’re gonna think it’s stupid too. But… if I tell you… can you pretend you don’t think it is? Just for like, ten minutes.”

This already sounds like it’s going to suck. “...Okay. I won’t… say anything, I guess.”

“Thanks.”

The moment drags out. Dys picks a little at a hangnail, waiting. Finally, Sol sighs again, and doesn’t quite look at Dys as he says, “Cal and Tammy are dating.”

“...Oh.”

“He told me on my birthday.” Sol tilts even further forward, until his face is buried in his arms, and with a muffled voice says, “Like, he knocked on the door and she was there and he had his hand on her back. And she’d made me a cake, which was like, nice or whatever, but it was so unbearable just seeing them together and I just -- I just had to sit there and pretend I was happy for them….

“Apparently she asked him out during Glow? Like, after the attack? And I saw them together in the lounge but I didn’t even realize….” There is, horrifyingly, a sniffing noise. “Stupid… stupid Fennec Face. She’s not… she’s not even that cute, and she’s afraid of everything, and I… I….”

Another sniff. Dys is probably the person least equipped to deal with this in the entire colony, not in the least because he heard Cal was dating someone else and his first reaction was gratitude. “...Sorry,” he offers up, finally. “That… that sucks.”

“Yeah,” says Sol, as he burrows deeper into his arms. “I… I just… I really like him. Y’know?”

Quietly, Dys answers, “I know.”

In response Sol just lets out this big shuddering sigh, somehow burrowing even deeper. “Sorry,” he says. “I know it’s stupid. I… Sorry.”

Dys can’t think of anything to say to that, can’t think of a single thing that might make Sol feel a little better. Instead of trying anyways he just sits there like an idiot, keeping half an eye on the planet around them to make sure they don’t get eaten by anything, and next to him Sol doesn’t move for a long, long time.

#i like pining dys can u tell. can u tell #i also like Physical Skills Only Head Empty sol LMFAO #also ill be honest with u guys #the only reason i am posting this one is bc i have a High Comedy sequel but it does require this one being posted first #bracelet scene :) with this sol :) is so funny #guy who has zero reasoning whatsoever #oh side note for ppl who read my shit. this is the same sol that would propose to dys later on in life #guy who is a stupid romantic #anyways. they are stupid. #should i put this in the main tag or not..... im very lukewarm on this LMFAO #again. this is only here bc its Necessary Context for the other hting i Want to post #ehhhh might as well i guess. shrugs. #i was a teenage exocolonist #how do you writing #oh title is from 2023 by blue rain boots #chorus is 'is that the sun i see or am i just bein greedy / gonna fix myself so i'm not so fuckin needy' and lie #the guys voice is soooo nice i love the way he sings it wwwww its good vibes #OK THATS A LOT OF TAGS. as long as the ficlet itself. #anyways. feast my children.

[xhoneygirlxx]

WANTED U

Eddie Munson x Best Friend Reader

summary: when your date is ruined by your best friend, can you stay mad at him when he reveals a secret you've been dying to know?

warnings: fluff, slight angst, Eddie is deep in his feels, two idiots in love. Minors DNI 18+ ONLY! mentions of drinking, Eddie gets drunk. swearing. p in v, creampie (wrap it up kiddos), fingering, body worship and praise. Reader's race/ethnicity is not mentioned! she/her pronouns used. Both Eddie and Reader are in their twenties. Also not proofread, spelling errors and horrible writing!

*if I miss anything please let me know!

a/n: Hi honey bunnies! I just want to thank @ali-r3n for this really cute idea! I'm so sorry it took me forever to post and I'm sorry about the shitty writing! Smut is not my strong suit and I've been plagued with the horrible writers block, so I hope this is okay! I hope you like this and thank you for being so wonderful and patient <3

All you wanted to do was to go on one date. One singular date. For the first time since your high school prom, you were going out with someone who was interested in you. A tinder match that led to multiple conversations, that led to having drinks, to hopefully going back to his place for a well needed time in the sheets. 

That was the plan for the night. Then your phone started to blow up with phone calls and texts, an apparent SOS that couldn’t wait. So you had to cancel, mid-date, telling your date that there was a family emergency. You knew walking out of there that Jordan wouldn’t text you back or ever take you up on the second date offer. 

It wasn’t like you were heartbroken over it, however you were a little bummed. The whole reason you even got on the dating app was because you were trying to get over your best friend. Eddie Munson stole your heart at the age of fifteen and had yet to give it back. It was a sick cycle that you have been going through for nine years. 

You were the lovesick best friend, who just couldn’t take the hint, following him around like a lost dog. Eddie had you wrapped around his finger and you didn’t care. Canceling plans just because he wanted to see you, doing whatever he asked just because, and never dating with the hopes of him finally falling for you. 

Those dreams were fruitless however, because Eddie didn’t see you as anything more than a friend. All the pining and unrequited love was killing you, a slow painful death that would put medieval torture devices to shame. It’s not like you could blame the brown haired boy, it’s not like you can pick who you fall for, but that didn’t stop you from wishing it would happen. 

So therefore you took the giant leap and put yourself out there, trying to ease the ache of your heart. In the end you ended up in Eddie’s apartment, helping him in his drunken state, get to bed. The emergency that Jeff blew your phone up for, was this. A night out with the guys turned into Eddie getting belligerent and refusing to leave until you came and got him. 

The whole car ride there you were disappointed in yourself, the whole reason for your dumb date was to stop yourself from running to the rescue every time he called. You were annoyed and heavily frustrated with the outcome of your night. It almost felt like the universe was against you, whatever god above watching you and laughing every single time you failed to move on. 

As much as you wanted to hate the grown man sitting in front of you, you simply couldn’t. His whiskey colored eyes round and glossy, nose and cheeks rosy with the heat of alcohol coursing through him, and his hair messy from the cold night wind. He was so pretty and it was hard trying to stay mad at him, especially when he had a deep dimpled smile adorning his face. 

“Alright Eds, I need you to change out of your clothes.” You say sweetly, the pile of his pajama’s hanging in your hands. 

Following your instructions, he tries to lift his shirt over his head, only for it to get caught on his head. “Sweets, I need help.” He sounds like a helpless child trying to tie his shoes, and you have to stifle a laugh. 

Placing the change of clothes next to him on the bed, you swiftly pull the stuck fabric off of him. When his head is released, he shakes his hair out of his face so he can see you. A childlike wonder flits in his eyes as he looks at you, admiring the way you’re being so gentle. 

A small thank you is whispered, you hum in response as you pull the new shirt on him. His eyes close as you gently tug his arms through the hole, soaking up the amount of attention you give to him. It feels like you’re changing a newborn, so docile and content with the way you handle him. 

“Can you take your pants off yourself or do you need me to help?” Your voice breaks his sleepy demeanor, droopy eyes looking up at you. 

“You gonna buy me dinner first?” Wiggling his eyebrows, he playfully smirks at you. 

“Ha ha, very funny.” You deadpan, yet your heart beat picks up at his innuendo. 

Surprisingly, he’s able to take his bottoms off and replace them with the pair you picked out for him. Pulling the jewelry off his wrist and fingers, you place them hastily on his bedside table. His eyes follow your every move, like a curious kitty watching their owner. Pulling back the covers on his bed, you gently lay him down and prop his head up with pillows. 

“So you have your bottle of water right here,” You show him by picking it up off the table where it’s sat, “And the bottle of Tylenol is right next to it. Now if at any moment you feel like you have to throw up, the garbage can is right next to you on the floor. Okay?” 

Humming to you in understanding, he closes his eyes once more. When you think he’s about to pass out, you turn on your heel to grab clothes for yourself. Not getting far, his big hand wraps around your wrist gently, bringing your attention back to him. This time his expression isn’t as content or happy. No, his eyes are glassy with unshed tears and his bottom lip jets out in a pout. 

“Please don’t leave.” It’s a whispered plea, innocent and childlike. 

“I’m not leaving Eds, just grabbin’ some clothes to change into.” Even with your assuring smile, he’s still frowning at you. 

“Please just, don’t leave.” Tugging your arm slightly, he brings you closer to the bed. 

“Eddie, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” You’re now concerned with the state of your best friend and why he felt the need to beg you to stay. 

“Promise? What about Jacob?”

“Eddie, what are you talking about?” Although he closes his eyes again, you still press for answers. 

“I don’t wanna lose you t’some douche. You needa be with me, sweets cause I love you s’much. Don’t wanna lose you to him.” It’s all a slurred mess, his words mumbling together as they fall out of his mouth. 

“If you mean Jordan, no I’m not going to leave you for him” You giggle softly, “I left my date with him to come get you. Plus his stories about kayaking were starting to get boring.” You try to lighten the mood, but it only makes his lip wobble more. 

“I shoulda made a move, I wanted to b-but I-I was scared. Gareth told me I lost my chance with you and he-he was right.” A few stray tears fall down his cheek and you lift a hand to wipe them away. 

The same brown eyes you fell in love with, all those years ago, stare up at you. The heart that’s bleed for him for nine years is starting to heal, the words you so desperately wanted to hear are finally coming to light. 

With your own tears glistening in your eyes, you look down at him like you always do. With the biggest heart in your eyes and brightest smile on your face. “You should stop listening to Gareth, Eds. I think you still have a shot, but we’ll talk about this later. When you’re not drunk.” 

Bobbing his head the best he can, he squeezes your hand once before retracting it. With his eyes closed and steady breaths leave his parted lips, you get changed and turn off the lights. Maybe the universe wasn’t against you, maybe it was on your side the whole time and just had a funny way of showing it. 

__

The bright sun pouring through the window, wakes you up. The sight before you is one you’ve seen before. The side profile of your best friend’s face, wild hair sprawled over the pillow that lays beneath him. You take this moment in to study his features, the slope of his nose, the way his eyelashes kiss the tops of his cheeks, and how kissable his lips look. 

Not much later is he stirring, stretching his limbs out after his wild night out. Cracking one of his eyes open, he winces slightly before running his hands down his face. Blinking once or twice, he finally lets himself wake up, staring straight at the ceiling. You wonder if he remembers what he said or if you should bring it up. Instead you choose to play it cool, or at least try to. 

“Good morning drunky! How’d you sleep?” Reaching a finger out, you poke his side.

“Drunky,” he snorts,” I actually slept well, thanks to my wonderful nurse.” He takes a peak over at you, a smug smile already pushing his cheeks up high. 

You try to ignore the butterflies in your tummy when you hear his voice, thick and husky with sleep. The giddy feeling rushing through you is written all over your face, covered up by a bad attempt of biting back a smile. 

“Well, I’m glad you don’t feel so shitty.” You say, stretching your body to distract yourself from his burning gaze. 

“What time is it anyway?” His question comes out in a yawn, loud and exaggerated. Propping up on your elbow, you lean over him to get a look at your alarm clock. 

“A little past ten.” Eddie huffs, muttering something about it being far too early. “I know it’s too early for you but that just means we can go to Jerry’s and get waffles to soak up whatever's left in your system.” You coo at him mockingly, fake pouting as you look at him. 

“Ya know, I don’t enjoy your fake pity.” Eddie rolls his eyes at you, a frown pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Oh I’m sorry, Eds. Want some ketchup with those cries?” Eddie’s frown deepens like a bratty child, and you eat up every second of it. “Oh, I know! I’ll call a wambulance.” You throw your head back, laughing at your own joke. 

With your attention off of him, he sees the perfect opportunity to laugh. At lightning speed, he grips your hands, flipping you over on your back. With the weight of his thighs bracketing you and his hand gripping your wrists together, you’re defenseless. 

With a wild glint in his eyes, Eddie wastes no time in attacking you with a finger to your side. Relentlessly, Eddie tickles you to the point there are tears in your eyes from how hard you're laughing, and your pleas for him to stop are swallowed by the oxygen that’s being stolen from your lungs. 

“It’s not so funny when it’s your turn, huh?” Smirking down at you, his attack doesn’t relent. 

Thrashing around the best you can, you try everything to get him off but with the way his thighs squeeze your legs together makes it hard to do so. 

“Okay, Okay! I’m sorry, Eddie! Please!” The last word comes out as the softest moan, so soft that you would miss it if you weren’t paying attention. However, Eddie was and his fingers stopped digging into your sides immediately. 

The sound of your heavy breathing is the only thing to be heard. Eddie stares down at you, eyes unblinking and cheeks dusted pink. The usually brown eyes are now dark, the dark pupil over taking the iris. You stare right back at him, chest rising and falling dramatically and lips parted slightly letting the air from your lungs flow out easily. 

It feels like the world has stopped, time frozen still for eternity. The mid-morning light painting the two of you in a portrait, cementing the moment forever. Two heart beats synching up together, beating against the bones of your rib cages. 

“Fuck it.”

Eddie rushes in to smash his lips against yours. Years of waiting and wondering if this moment would ever happen, now finally laying to rest. The taste of him has been the missing part of your life this whole time and you wonder if he’s thinking the same thing. 

It’s sweet and slow, his tongue slipping inside your mouth softly. Morning breath be damned, the two of you make out for what seems like hours on end. Parting from each other for much needed air, a small giggle leaves your mouth. 

“What?” Eddie smiles, his face as dopey and gooey as you feel on the inside. 

“I just wanted this for so long.” You admit, making his smile pull wider. 

Leaning back down to you, he peppers kisses all over your face. The snickering that’s leaving your mouth is slowly turned into a whimper when his lips find their way to your neck. A gasp pulls from your chest the minute he finds that spot, eliciting him to suck on it. Hissing when it becomes too much, Eddie is quick to soothe the sting with his tongue. 

Pulling his face away from the crevice of your neck, his eyes find yours as his hand glides to find the hem of your shirt. Tugging on it and raising an eyebrow in question, you nod overenthusiastically. 

Ripping the oversized shirt over your face, he takes his time to memorize all the details of your skin. The heat of his stare becomes a bit too much, worry overtaking your brain causing you to bite down on your lip. 

“I just want you to know that I’ve waited since freshman year to see these bad boys.” Attention still drawn on your bare chest. 

“Well, do they live up to the hype?” You question, tone not as confident as you think. 

Eddie’s head whips up to you, mouth agape and you swear you can see drool pooling from his lips. “Sweets, you have no idea.” 

Diving in, he kisses the doughy flesh of your breasts, going back and forth between the two. Like a magnet to a fridge, his lips find the hardened bud and latches on. Switching between sucking and flicking his tongue, you squirm underneath him trying to find some sort of friction for the ache in between your legs. 

“You have no idea how many times I jerked off to the thoughts of this.” Eddie mutters as he moves his attention to the opposite nipple. 

Between his admission and the feeling of his warm mouth on your sensitive skin, you moan loudly. The feeling of more wetness pool in your panties alerts you, the overwhelming feeling of need buzzing through you. A small whine comes from you and it catches Eddie’s attention. 

Pulling away from your breast and peering up at you, he cocks his head to the side. “What’s wrong, baby? Want some cheese for that whine?” 

When his canine teeth shine through his devilish smirk, you whimper. You hate that he’s using your game from earlier against you, teasing you like he doesn’t know what you want. 

“What is it, sweets? Tell me what you want.” Fake pity drips from his question and it only eggs you on more. 

Eddie’s got you so worked up that you can’t even speak. Lifting your hips to show him what you need, you frown harder when he laughs at you. 

“Oh, princess,” He coos, running his thumb along your lower lip, “Be the good girl I know you are, and ask. Can you do that f’me?” Nodding your head, he encourages you with an assuring smile. 

“C-can you touch me, please?” Your voice sounds so small and you’d honestly cringe if it weren’t for the fact that you know you’re dripping out of the fabric of your panties onto his bed. 

Sighing heavily, Eddie gives your bottom lip a small tug with his thumb, letting the bottom row of your teeth show before it bounces back up into place. 

“I would tease you more but you asked so nicely.” Shuffling down your body, he loops his fingers through the sides and guides the thin material down your legs. 

Pushing his way through your thighs, Eddie runs the tip of his middle finger up the slit of your sex. His finger grazes lightly over your bundle of nerves, causing you to jolt from the feeling. 

“You’re really fucking wet.” Eddie says breathlessly as he parts your glistening lips apart with his fingertips. 

Not waiting for your response, Eddie circles his finger around your entrance before plunging it in slowly. The stretch from his finger makes you arch slightly, a muffled moan falling from your mouth. Using the pad of his thumb, he swirls your clit in alternating circles and figure eights. 

“More, Eds. Fuck, please!” You beg and who is Eddie to deny you. Pushing another finger inside, he curls them just right and starts going faster. 

“Fuck you’re so greedy, baby. Isn’t that right, you’re s’greedy for me, huh?” With his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and his cheeks a pretty burgundy shade, he looks just as fucked out as you. 

Writhing underneath him, you babble nonsense as his fingers hit that spot you always struggle to. “Yes! M’so greedy - Shit!” 

“You gonna let me taste you? Gonna let me eat this pretty cunt?” You don’t even get a chance to answer, your body already doing it for you by clenching around his fingers. “Oh she likes that, huh? You like imagining me in between these pretty thighs, baby?” 

“Think ‘bout it all the time.” You moan, hips rocking against his hand as you try to chase your high. 

“Yeah, sweets? Think about me when you play with this pretty pussy?” 

That’s all it takes for you to come undone, gushing around his fingers with a muted scream. Your back arches off the bed, eyes rolled into the back of your head, as the feeling of your orgasm washes over you. 

Eddie helps you ride through it, continuing his motions until your tense muscles relax into a jelly like state. When you come back down from your high, you whimper at the loss of his fingers. Moving your eyes to him, you watch as he sticks his middle and forefinger in his mouth, moaning when the taste of you hits his taste buds. 

“Yeah, I’m definitely gonna have to eat you out.” Eddie grins at you and you roll your eyes playfully back at him. 

“That sounds absolutely wonderful, but” You begin to say and his face drops with the fear of rejection, “I’m going to need you to fuck me in the next thirty seconds.” You smirk and his jaw drops. 

After fifteen seconds of pure shock, Eddie shakes his head and tries to play it cool. 

“Yeah totally, let me just-” His sentence is cut off when he begins to struggle out of his own clothes. 

Once he’s stark naked and hovering over you, you laugh giddily up at him. Putting his forehead to you, he studies your eyes for any sort of regret or doubt. 

“Eds, I promise you I want this.” You reassure him, making sure to prove the point with a loving kiss.

With his confidence boosted, Eddie snakes his hand down to guide himself into you. When the tip breaches your entrance, the both of you gasp at the feeling.

Pushing in slowly, he brings his lips back to yours, swallowing your moans. Once he's all the way in, Eddie gives you a minute to adjust before he starts moving.

Nodding your head to let him know you're good, he pulls almost all the way out before ramming back into you, knocking the wind from your lungs.

"Fuuck, sweets. S'fuckin' tight." His voice trembles as he pounds into you.

"You're so big, I can feel you s'deep." You slur, drunk on the way his cock stretches you, hitting that sweet spot with every drag of his hips.

Eddie resituates himself, pushing your knees up to your chest, before bringing his chest back down to yours. This way you can feel him even deeper, which you didn't even think was possible.

You're on fire, belly burning bright with fire. Eddie's everywhere, he's all you can see, hear, smell, touch, think, he's invaded every single one of your senses and you can't get enough.

His eyebrows are furrowed, eyes closed with the pure bliss of being inside of you. It's so intimate yet so dirty and it's driving you insane.

Opening his eyes, he looks down at you like you've hung the stars that shine in the sky.

"I wanted this for so long, sweets. I wanted you, so Fuck-" He hangs his head, speeding up the movements of his hips. A roaring sob comes out of your mouth, the fire in you burning hotter with every drag of his thick cock.

"I'm so in love with you, sweets. Been yours since I was sixteen." Finally he confesses, letting the sacred secret out, only this time he's drunk off of you.

"I love you too! Fuck-I love you so fucking much."

"Tell me you're mine. Please, tell me." He begs and you comply, growing closer and closer to the edge.

"M'yours, been yours since I was fifteen." You confess and it feels like the weight of the world has lifted off of you.

With one last thrust, you come undone with a loud cry. Eddie doesn't let up his movements, now only focusing on his own release.

The way his hips stutter, you know that he won't last too much longer.

"I want you to cum in me, Eds. I wanna feel s'bad." You coax and that's all it takes for the metalhead to come with a stuttering grunt.

Lazily thrusting into you, he finally stops when he becomes overstimulated. The room is once again calm, the now afternoon sun blinds you as it seeps into the room. Heavy breathing and content hums fill the room, while the scent of sex lingers in the air.

Shyly removing himself from your chest, Eddie looks at you sheepishly. "Now what?"

If you didn't know Eddie you'd probably think he's being rude, but you know that he really is just overthinking everything that just happened. In his mind he thinks you're probably regretting everything, even though you told him you felt the same way.

Using your hand to pull some of the hair that sticks to his cheeks away, you smile affectionately at him.

"Well, I was thinking we could still go to Jerry's for breakfast," Eddie still looks at you like he's waiting for the ball to drop, "Then I thought you could keep your promise and eat your girlfriend out. That is, if you're not too full."

"Really?" He looks like a puppy who just heard its favorite word, excited with it's tail wagging back and forth.

Snickering up at him, you nod your head rapidly. Pulling out of you quickly, Eddie runs out of the room and you can hear the chaos of clattering from behind the door.

"Eddie, what are you doing?" More giggles fall from your lips as he races back in with a wet wash rag in his hand.

"Gotta clean you up before we go out to eat, baby. That way I can recreate our masterpiece later." He says wiggling his eyebrows.

Yeah this was the dork you fell in love with and who you were going to love for the rest of your life.

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Thank you all for reading! I'm sorry it's not the best!

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x female reader

[vagabond-umlaut]

gesundheit

you deem gojo to be the most stubborn nurse you've ever seen. you suppose you're the most stubborn patient gojo's ever seen.

but what you don't know is you both are the most caring, and the most idiotic, couple of best friends [or perhaps... something else] anyone's ever seen.

▸ student! gojo satoru x student! gn! reader; sickfic; mentions of flu & the medicines treating it [i wish i could include their composition too but no :(((]; a brief appearance of yummy chicken soup; gallons & gallons of tooth-rotting fluff; one sexual innuendo; ETERNALLY PINING 'TORU & ETERNALLY OBLIVIOUS SHORTIE ARE BACK!! :D

▸ belongs to series we're the summer to our winter rain but you can read this as a stand-alone if you wanna!

▸ the gif, divider and characters used ain't mine. please don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

obdurate, obstinate, bull-headed, pig-headed—

you reckon there's no word in the lexicon of any language, from any corner of this world, that can adequately describe the boy crouched before you.

furrowed brows barely visible from behind the unkempt white bangs, gojo shoots you a woefully concerned look, so much so that it makes you wanna smack it right off his face– and says, "your temperature is still above 100, shortie. you sure you took all the medications right on time?"

"i did," you grit out through clenched teeth and a hoarse throat before a fit of cough racks through your warm body, making you clutch onto your blankets for dear life while the airways fight to expel the irritants into the tissue you've pressed over the lower two-thirds of your face—

a painful battle which continues for a good portion of a minute or two before ending– temporarily— you toss the tissue into the overflowing trash can few feet away and return to glaring at your best friend, with a very exhausted, very frustrated sigh.

gojo's shades glint back innocently in the low light of the television as the boy dutifully places the thermometer in its box then moves to put the lids back on the tupperware he brought you dinner in.

you sigh yet again, wrapping the blankets tighter round yourself.

"sometimes, i wonder if you ever learnt to read, y'know?" you mumble in a soft voice, yet its tone mad enough to make him flinch as he rises from the carpet– having cleared the center table of the remainders of the chicken soup haibara made for you– only to cover it a tiny second later with anti-pyretics, cough syrups, nasal decongestants, inhalers-

gasp of shock worsening into a scratchy cough, you wheeze out, "did you really not read my messages, 'toru? i asked u to leave my soup at the doorstep but you warped right to the centre of my living room— i also asked you not to buy any medicine for me, i already bought them today, but- but- you literally bought the entire medicine shop for me!"

"yeah. and?" the white-haired boy retorts, short and sweet with that eye-crinkling beam of his– one he knows never not works on you, "it isn't like i don't have the means to afford it. and as for your orders via the messages..."

he trails off, shooting you a wink as he moves to plop down near your feet on the sofa and drawls, "i've always been a brat. why don't ya put me back in my place, huh?"

in his place... don't tell me this idiot's speaking of...

"is that supposed to be a bdsm thing, satoru?" you inquire, genuinely confused. concerned. "and you should raise your standards, y'know? thinking a person sick and dying from a flu to be attractive enough to apply a pick-up line on them; i hone– hey, no, why the fuck are you—"

"scoot. over."

neither gojo's stony tone nor his pinched features brook any room for you to disagree, yet you decide not to be held back by such, legs and arms struggling to free themselves from the blanket to push the way too tall figure squeezing you into the sofa as he lies down beside you.

not even a moment passes before your blankets are rudely ripped off your body, then dumped on the floor beneath. swallowing back a sigh of relief– the fan feels so good!– you muster a glower to shoot at your best friend.

earning an eyeroll and a huff, you know are fond, in reply.

"the paracetamol will be kicking in soon, and you'll start sweating like hell then," the boy explains, plucking his shades off and placing them on the table beside, "and that sweat needs to get evaporated asap for your fever to reduce asap— which won't happen if you stay swaddled in your blankets. didn't ya know that, shortie?"

your fever-stricken mind didn't until now, but you decide not to voice the fact out loud, just to not appease the smug grin on that bastard's face.

instead, you retort, "but don't you know staying in close contact with a sick person, taking no preacutions, can make you fall ill too?"

"nah!" gojo shoves your concern away with a dismissive shake of his head, "i'm not one of the strongest duo for nothing, you know? them weakass flu viruses can do nothing to me."

then adds, swiping a calloused palm over the skin of your forehead— cracking a smile, you realize, is 'cause he finds it sweating, "moreover, you're sick, shortie— you don't think i'm gonna leave you to take care of yourself, all alone with no one to help, do you?"

you don't.

of course, you don't, knowing who your dearest friend is— a very very stubborn boy, a store of immense power, but most importantly— the holder of a heart made from the purest of pure gold...

a half-hearted ugh is the only response you decide to grace his query with, not really minding when the boy ruffles your hair and pulling the thinnest of the blankets over you both, shifts so that he is now on his side with an arm tucked under his head, while you remain squished in between him and the sofa, face nearly pressing into his shirt-covered chest.

allowing a beat to pass, you peer up at him, mumbling tiredly.

"but why are you sleeping with me here, 'toru? go to one of the rooms and sleep in them. your legs will hurt a lot tomorrow, if you keep them dangling like that."

"let them," gojo smiles, wrapping a loose arm round your midsection, "it's more important for me to stay close to you to know when you're feeling sick and when you're not- or do you wanna make me sleep on the floor? i can do that for you."

"i am not saying this for me, 'toru," you grumble, inching closer to him despite your brain barking opposite instructions at you, "it's for you– i move a lot when i'm asleep. you won't get even a wink of sleep."

your best friend's lips lift knowingly. "why do you think i trapped you like this, hm?"

your zeal to dissuade him, itself fades a little. still, you persist, "i also tend to mumble in my sleep. won't you find that creepy?"

"nothing's creepy if it's in your sweet voice," he answers with a very... uncanny smile then rushes to add with a visibly exhausted sigh when you shoot him a frown, "i've got earplugs in my bag. i'll use them if it's too unbearable for me."

"tch!"

the battle of talking him out of this seemingly- definitely lost, you tsk and move to shut your eyes, finally letting your ailing body to listen to the call of sleep— before your eyes fly open again— a brand new idea whirring to life in your mind.

"but what if i start sneezing, or worse, coughing in the middle of the night? what are you go—"

"shut up," gojo shushes you, pressing your face into his shirt by a firm hold on the back of your head. you make a yelp of protest but it goes ignored by him as he continues, voice dropping to a pleasant rumble.

"and in case you start sneezing or coughing, i'm gonna wake up and take care of you and will stay awake till you're perfectly okay and fine— is that clear to you, shortie? taking care of you is only why i'm here tonight— why else would i bother myself with a snot-nosed person?"

his remark makes your fingers want to pinch his sides hard– but you stop them— choosing to let them draw nonsensical designs over his back, instead. a barely-there shiver passes through his body, you feel it, the same moment he removes his hand from the back of your hair to keep it in between your shoulder blades, lightly pressing, loosening the knots there.

yawning a little, you nuzzle into him at the comfort his action gives, then blink a pair of bleary eyes up at him, "do you know how much i adore you?"

curiosity and delight dimple his cheeks in a smile, clear as day for you to see. he asks, "you do?"

"mmhm," you don't waste even an instant in humming your assent, the relief brought by the medicines and gojo making you slowly fall into the grasp of slumber, "i really do. you're very very very precious to me and i adore you so much, 'toru. you're the best."

"i'm very happy to know that," the boy murmurs in a tone way too soft for him, but your slowly ebbing consciouness doesn't let you dwell on it for long— a smile shaping your lips at his next words, "and i too love you very much. i lo-"

he stops abruptly, making you frown up at him, worried— only to find him wearing a bright grin on his face. something tells you he is hiding something— his eyes are too nervous for a bragging person as him...

deciding not to pay it any attention, you pucker your lips into a pout.

"heyyy," you whine, "finish your sentence, 'toru!!! you can't leave your darling best friend hanging like thattt!!!"

the tension in his facial muscles reduces a pinch at your demand. the boy's grin widens, glowing even brighter to your tired eyes than those led-like blue eyes of his in the dim lights of the room.

thumbing your cheek lightly, he gives into your urging. "okay, fine— i love my darling shortie the most in this world. so much so that there is no one in this world who can love you as much as i do," he says in a gentle whisper, then adds— face growing that same strange smile as before— "my beloved best friend... now does that make you happy?"

the abrupt change in his tone to an oddly cheery quality as he makes his query is more than enough to give you one hell of a whiplash. you quickly sidestep it– filing the many queries it brings, away to be dealt with on a healthier day.

a brief shiver sending you press yourself closer into his comforting self, you close your eyes and mumble into the fabric of his shirt, "it makes me the happiest... thank you, 'toru. i too love you the most."

a tiny beat passes before you feel a feather-light kiss landing on your hairline— and that's the last thing you notice, before your drowsiness finally claims you, lulling you to a restful sleep in the safe embrace of your dearest 'toru.

▸ IMPORTANT NOTE: whatever u do, pls don't be as dumb as 'toru or shortie here!! if u r the one suffering from a flu or if u r the one taking care of a person who has flu, pls take the required precautions, and take care of urself and the ppl around u! love u sm!

[as a med student, it literally pained me to write these two being so stupid & careless when dealing with an illness as infectious and irritating like flu... but oh well. anything is possible in fiction, right? 🙃]

▸ masterlist

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #kit posts 📝

[beefboyandbabygirl]

Good Luck, Fermata Tower (18+)

pairing: fire-lookout!seungcheol x female!fire-lookout!reader

genre: firewatch au LMAO, smut (MDNI), soo much angst, COMFORT, fluff

description: after the death of your roommate you have to find a greater purpose to life. what better way than to became a fire lookout with a surprisingly charismatic neighbour tower?

warnings: this fic is a lot, please read ALL warnings. SUICIDE, implied suicidal thoughts, major character death 2x, reader goes through grief, so does seungcheol, AGE GAP, RADIO SEX??? LMAOOO, dirty talk, petnames, cockwarming, pentrative sex, strength kink, f. and m. masturbation (mutual?), PINING TO THE HIGHEST DEGREE, MENTIONS OF DOING DRUGS/DOING SHROOMS, talks of drowning, if u know the game i think you'll be able to visualize the beauty of this way more, intensive writing on the scenery and the emotions, LMK IF I FORGOT ANYTHING PLEASe

quotes from babygirl (@joshibambi): "im getting out lana", "im just gonna be making animal sounds", "can we make this into a play so i can perform this?", "OF ALL THE THINGS THAT COULD MAKE ME CRY IT WAS THE DESCRIPTION OF HIS HOT ASS FACE"

wordcount: 13.9k

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY SEUNGCHEOL. i love this fic. the writing is a little novelly for a fic, but i was so passionate ab this whole firewatch thing and i got SO INTO the arcs and their personal losses and i just really love yn and seungcheol. i hope this was worth the wait and i apologize for not finishing sooner. all my love, beefboy

You and Mingyu meet at college at some parkour club that you’d both joined to make friends. You face-plant into the pavement and knock out a tooth and Mingyu takes you to a nearby hospital. You click instantly. 

You and Mingyu spend every moment together - you help him and he helps you. Mingyu is smart, you realize. He knows all the formulas in your mathematics course by heart. You tell him he’s smart and he says that no one else seems to think that.

You and Mingyu are best friends. You have matching necklaces that complete a heart. 

You and Mingyu party together and when you get too drunk, he carries you down the halls, home. Sometimes at night he sleeps in your bed. 

Your friend group thinks you’re dating, but you think you and Mingyu are something much more earnest than lovers. You think Mingyu is your soulmate. 

You piggy-back ride Mingyu at graduation and you give him a peck on the cheek when he shakes hands with the dean. 

You and Mingyu become roommates. You binge-watch terrible movies together and hold drinking games. It’s hard to admit some of your favorite memories are from watching the Alvin and The Chipmunks trilogy. 

The night before it happens you and Mingyu eat dinner together that he cooked. You see his snaggletooth every time he smiles. 

You’d almost lived together for two years that morning. He usually wakes earlier than you, but he is nowhere to be seen. The apartment is oddly still. You feel trapped. 

You enter Mingyu’s room.

You think he’s asleep. You leave him alone. 

Two hours later you grow worried. You enter his room to find him in the same position. You shake him. Mingyu doesn’t wake. 

The doctors say a case like Mingyu’s is extremely rare - he was in great shape. You’re not sure if that’s supposed to make you feel better. 

Mingyu’s funeral is grim. His death is so terrible, says the pastor, because it’s so domestic. You think it’s terrible because he is - was - the brightest, most amazing person to walk the earth. His parents want you to hold a speech, but you can’t find the words. You think you might sob if you go up there. You sob anyway. The flowers form a ring on the floor of the church and your soulmate is dead.

You can’t sleep anymore. You imagine him dying, left arm numb, alone in the dead of night and choking out your name, reaching for the thin wall that separated you. You cry for a whole month. The apartment is cursed so you live with your parents. 

One day, you see an ad for a job in the paper. 

You take it.  _____________________________

“Hello?” 

Static stormed the tower-house when the other end cut off.

“Are you there?” 

Your eyes frantically darted around the cabin. It was no more than a 13 foot rectangle and yet your tired eyes couldn’t find the radio, churning out a gruff voice. 

You’d just arrived, barely turned on the generator to allow light in. It was nighttime. The park’s dips and peaks were veiled in blue; the silhouettes of the trees, forking out in long, thin spikes, were navy and the lake Fermata was the brightest, glittering pearl from the moon above. Stars twinkled knowingly at you. 

There. A flash of yellow in your blurred vision. You picked up the worn, dirty radio in your heavy hand, pressing at its side. 

“Yeah, hi, I’m here,” you breathed out tiredly. You let go of the button and a small bit of static spoke back to you. 

“Y/n?” 

“Mhm.” 

“I’m Seungcheol. I’m in Bay Valley Tower. It’s to the east. Saw your light turn on,” His voice was gruff, laced with sleep. It had a rasp at every vowel, strings of vocal chords straining to spit out the words in between sticky ropes of bile. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said. You had nothing else to say. The flimsy, one person bed beckoned to your tired body. You moved, like a doll, one limb at a time, into its harbor, collapsing into the thin mattress. You laid on your side, moonlight shining in from the window by the door. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, carelessly. Impatient in tone, you imagined he’d probably been through this a hundred times before. “So,” he sighed out, deeply. “What’s your problem?” 

“Hm?” 

There was a shooting star, dancing across the sky in that moment. You watched it, shuffling onto your back with half-closed eyes. Stardust sprinkled from it on the open, empty sky.

“People here are all running from something. So what’s your deal?” 

You sighed, watching the star’s open path. It could go anywhere, you thought. Then you moved your arm, holding the receiver to your mouth. 

“Listen, Seungcheol. I’ve been hiking for two days, so I’m gonna go to bed now, okay? Hopefully you’ve found some manners by the time I wake up,” you mumbled, then let go of the button (it had a harsh, grainy texture for some reason), and laid your hand, radio in it, limply at your side. 

You heard a raspy chuckle from the other end. You had no energy to be angry. 

“Alright, Fermata Tower,” there was a smile in the anonymous man’s voice. 

There was a pause. The sound of the fierce breeze carried whiffs of autumn, as it lulled you to sleep. You had almost fallen into a black, snow-buried slumber when you heard the radio crinkle again: 

“Fermata, do you see that shooting star?” 

You had no energy to respond, radio spewing static in your open hand. Thankfully, Seungcheol seemed understanding.

“That’s good luck. So...”

A moment. You and Seungcheol watched the sky-dancer, apart. 

“Good luck.”  _____________________________

“You’re awake!” 

It was Seungcheol’s voice. Transformed by the orange hues of daytime, he sounded much more alive than the night prior. 

“I can see you sitting at your desk.” 

Indeed you were sitting on your desk - a flimsy wooden thing, which looked like it had come form a yard sale - studying the map of the massive park. There were simple cartoonish figures to indicate stresses of trees and drops in the terrain, and rock quarries and waterfalls and lakes. You’d delicately pointed out your own position with red marker, scribbling ‘me’ by it with a heavy child’s hand.

It was cold - the thin boards did not do much to ward away the heavy wind, hooting creeping in the cracks. It smelled like pine needles and tea, as you’d just boiled a lavender on the kettle. IT sat, heating your fingers where it rested beside them in a mug left behind by the previous firewatchman (it read: “don’t talk to me before I’ve had my coffee”). 

The radio clattered against the wood when you clumsily picked it up. 

“Didn’t know when I signed up for this that I would be dealing with a stalker,” you joked, smiling small when you heard the man on the other end let out a hearty laugh. 

“Hey, don’t go labeling me just yet, kid.”

“Kid?!” you said incredulously, dropping the marker that you had been so diligently using to scribble excellent comments on your map (latest was: “maybe cute bears”). “How old are you?!” 

“I’m 37,” Seungcheol said.

“Oof.” 

“Hey!” 

“I’m kidding!” you laughed, dropping your pen and leaning back in your seat. The view was beautiful. You could see the lake, surrounded by a rippling sea of trees, each top reaching for the sky, like you. “I’m 27, I’m getting up there with you.”

“Just a small decade.”

“I’m mature for my age.” 

Seungcheol chuckled on the other end of the radio. You spun around in your chair (it creaked horribly - it sounded like a pig at the sight of a cleaver) surveying each square of the forest from your windows. You narrowed your eyes, trying to spot his lookout tower. 

“How come you can see me but I can’t see you?” you mumbled, now standing to try and see, but it was drowned out by the sheer volume of pinewood. Seungcheol grumbled on the other end: “I should be East.” 

“Yeah, fuck, I forgot to tell you, I think I dropped my fucking compass on the way here,” you ran a hand through your hair and frown. 

“Uh, shit, you’re gonna have to pick up a new one, bud,” he said and you slumped. “Well, if you’re facing the lake - Fermata Lake, I mean - I should be to your left.” 

You followed his instructions. You faced the lake, then took two loggy steps to face left, then squinted incessantly at the horizon. Not dissimilar to a crowd in Times Square, the trees stood toe to toe all across at every inch you spied. The pines zagged upwards like Giza, and culminated into the biggest mountain in the park, just under the sun. The mountain loomed overhead where you finally spotted the lookout tower, like a monster crouched over its prey. You tried to shake off the thought and focus on the lone, floating tower in the pit of pointy trees.

“I see you, Bay Valley,” you breathed into the radio. 

The tower looked much more lonely from so far away. It was different when you were in it, but with the miles-long stretch between you two, you found it looked so small and feeble. You could make out the light turned on within it, a rectangle of burning orange. The shooting star must’ve crossed directly between your two towers. 

“Attagirl,” Seungcheol smiles. “Do you see me waving?”

“No, what the fuck.” 

“I got binoculars.” 

“Ew, you are a stalker!” 

“It’s for bird-watching!” Seungcheol informed you, offense in his tone. You cackled into the radio. “I like watching birds, thank you very much.” 

“Jeez, can’t believe what this job does to people.” 

“I liked bird-watching before I got this job,” Seungcheol said.

“You’re so white,” you grinned. 

“I’m not even white!” 

You and Seungcheol both laughed, joyous hiccups interrupted by bursts of static and 3 miles of rocky terrain and pine needles. You squint at the sun, traversing and dipping under the jagged hedges of the tree-line. 

Your head lolled over to spot between the desk and doorway, where you’d dropped your orange backpack (a peculiar color, come to think of it - same color as the lifejacket they deploy on airplanes when everything has already gone wrong). Now it was flopped onto its side, zipper ripped open and knick knacks and crumbs at its mouth, spilling onto the floor. 

“Where do I get a new compass?” you asked, looking at a yellowed book sat beside the backpack.

“Uh, shit, gimme a sec,” Seungcheol mumbled, and before his radio cut off, you heard, briefly, the itchy scrambling of papers, and the sound made him seem a lot more real. “We have these, uh, supply boxes scattered around. ‘M readin’ this, uhhh, fuckin’ info-thing.. Should say which of them supposedly has a compass.” 

“Sounds like you really know your stuff.” 

“Get off my ass, Fermata.” 

You heard papers rustle again and a small bump before the radio cut off, as if he put the radio down on the table. You awaited, arms crossed over your pink and gray striped hoodie, and staring at sundown. Orange flooded the sky, as if it were all engulfed in flames and this was really hell. 

“Uhhh, okay, I got it! There’s one down at Eleison Valley? The code is 1-2-3-4. That’s actually the code to all of them.” 

“Secure.”

“Shut up.” 

“Well, I can get some exploring done, at least,” you frown, spying a not-so-casual hike on the dotted surface of your map, when you tangoed back to the table, fiddling with the edge of the paper. 

“Yeah. You should probably do it tomorrow though. Sun’s coming down.” 

“Yeah. Can’t believe I slept that long.” 

“Don’t feel too bad about it, kid. I was knocked out for, like, two days after the hike out here. It’s a miracle you’re already awake.” 

“Thanks, Bay Valley,” you sighed, leaning back in your seat with some strained shuffling. You watched, eyes half-lidded as the sun fully disappeared behind the curtain of the park. Its light still roamed the sky, where it hid. Half dark blue, half red, the sky twinkled at you and your insignificance brilliantly. You tried not to think about how lonely and floaty your lookout tower must look from afar. Everything feels big when it’s close enough. 

“You’re welcome, Fermata.” _____________________________

“You think I could eat any of these mushrooms, BV?” 

“BV?” 

“Bay Valley.”

“Ah,” Seungcheol sighed on his end of the radio. You were trudging through the undergrowth in your new hiking boots, lifesaver-colored backpack on the plates of your back, weight pushing through the fabric of your jacket. “No, I don’t think that would be wise.” 

“Damn it. Was gonna get hella high,” you joked, eyeing another cluster of snow-white mushrooms under the shade of a tree, sloping along a gnarly root. Your crunching steps in the loose dirt came to a halt - there was a dropoff. The cliff cut off like a broken chocolate bar and a sharp rockwall supported it to the next layer of earth. 

The path was snaking down towards the lake. You’d circle around and climb up towards Tri Forks Tower, where eventually the climbing heights would bowl into Eleison Valley - a flower field, supposedly (in the map a little flower icon alerted you of this). 

“If I die from this rockwall, please, tell my family I love them,” you grumbled, fetching an itchy, frayed rope from the depths of your backpack. Squinting at the high sun, pale drops of sweat forming around your forehead, you slung it over the hook. The park was littered with these - rusted old things that were leaning forward from years of heavy hikers’ tugging. This one was particularly bent. 

“You’re so dramatic,” came Seungcheol from the speaker. 

“Am not, man, these rocks are like fucking knives!” 

“Such a drama queen. A real Primadonna.”

You huffed and puffed as you lowered yourself down the cliffside. Your boots pressed flat against the jagged rock, biceps burning as you held yourself up and walked down the side of it. The whole world was with you, sideways, and you would’ve stopped to appreciate it were you not sure you would pass out doing so. 

“Holy shit,” you said to yourself when you were finally on stable ground and not spider-manning the mineral deposits of the park. You put your hands on your hips and squinted at its imposing open jaw. 

“You down yet, Queen B?”

You panted, grimacing, when you tugged the rope hard and it leapt down like a flying snake: “Yeah, I’m down.” 

You continued padding through the forest. The earth was dry and it was summer, but the wind was harsh and it cooled your stovetop-skin as you walked along a rock quarry, Fermata Lake hiding behind the covers of huge, flat bulwark. You listened to the cacophonous call of the forest: rustling leaves and birds. 

“I had a friend - uh, friend of a friend, actually - who, like, got high as fuck off mushrooms and had a bad trip,” you said, mouth to the mic of the radio, as you studied the cover of the leaves. 

“Yeah? What happened?” Seungcheol hummed. 

“She said that, like -- fuck,” you breathed, scrambling over a particularly rocky rock. “She said there was, like, like her house flooded. Like, water just came gushing in and the whole house was, like, underwater suddenly and she.. She thought she was gonna drown. And her fuckin’ kitchen turned into, like, a coral reef or some shit, I don’t know.” 

“Shit,” Seungcheol seemed much more alert now. You heard him put something down on his table (you imagined it was just as shitty as your own). “I didn’t even know that was possible.” 

“It’s fucking crazy. Don’t do drugs, man.” 

You turned past the quarry and was met with the sight of the huge, gaping hole of Fermata Lake. Strangely oval, the lake was flanked on all sides with thick pineland, except for a slight angle where grassy hills turned upwards towards Tri Forks Tower. 

The water was much more green up close. Algae sloshed up the side of the gravel-earth, willing you into the murky depths. 

You stared at it for a while. You thought maybe you could make out someone standing at the bottom of the bowl-shape.

“I’m at Fermata Lake,” you said then, and then started walking again. 

“Good job! And you haven’t even died at a drop off yet,” Seungcheol joked and you laughed. 

“God, you’re such a jerk. I bet you’re fuckin’.. Watching birds right now like a nerd.” 

“Okay, rude-” 

“Why don’t you go outside and be productive?” 

“I’m looking for fires,” Seungcheol snarked back. “The binoculars are multi-use.” 

You let the conversation die down for a bit, focused on the walk. It was peaceful when you let it be, but at times you came to feel like you were being swallowed alive, or like the looming figure of Aluralura Mountain was pressing its boulder-brawn in between your shoulder blades. The air in the forests was thicker, so you stayed persistent in your path, as you climbed up the clearings and spotted Tri Forks in the distance. 

“Hey, uh, Y/n?” 

The sudden intrusion of Seungcheol on the radio had you jolting, dropping the radio into the earth (thankfully it was fine - here the earth was softer and it dipped under your boot and water pressed out from the mull). You bent over and picked it back up. 

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!” you scolded, wiping mud off the yellow plastic of the radio.

“Oh, uh, sorry..” 

It was only then that you noticed a meekness in Seungcheol’s voice. You, of course, had not the furthest idea what he looked like, but he sounded like he was holding a knife behind his back. You furrowed your brows and stared down the radio, as if it would give you answers. There was dirt clamoring the yellow, where your fingers had held on.

“What’s up?” you said and sounded fakely bright. 

“Well, I just-” he cut himself off with a cough, one that reached those stringent, thinning vocal cords and brought back the rasp. “I wanted to apologize. For the other night. I mean, when you came to the tower.” 

You didn’t respond, only furrowed your brow and looked out across the sun-lit moor. There was a deer traversing across the grass. 

“Uhm. Because. I was- I was kinda drunk, uh, when you came, and I know I was kinda pushy about, you know, why you came out here and all that.” 

“OH!” you exclaimed and the noise ended in a laugh. “Please, Seungcheol. Don’t worry about that. It’s fine.” 

“Okay, good,” he mumbled. 

The flower field came into view after climbing a particularly steep hill and it was a flower field - not just cartography myth. 

It was all sunflowers and catmint - a huge, long stretch of purple and yellow splotches, stemming from green, untamed grass - stretching as far as you could see, disappearing into a hill at the far horizon. You were sure the smell of pollen went for miles, flowerdust sprinkling the air in heavy coats. The path you were following split the field in two, a dry, boring gravel streak, but you saw, faded from sunlight, a once deep, now light, ashy brown box at the right side. 

“I found it!” you shrieked into the radio, a newfound strength gearing your legs into a sprint. “Fuck, yes!” 

“Good job, Fermata!” there was a smile in his voice. 

“Thank you!” 

You were also smiling, when you went up to it. It was rectangular and made of planks, held together by a metal loop and a padlock. Like everything else, it was dirty and ravished, and you felt a faint worry at the sight of scratch marks on its side. You clicked in the code: 1-2-3-4. 

The interior of the box was mostly empty. To your horror the first thing you saw was a porn magazine, which you did not dare to touch; then you saw a granola bar, which you did touch and stash away in your backpack, without any regard for how old it may have been; then came the compass, small and cheap metal and pointing out that you were, in fact, facing Northwest.

There was another item in the box. You did not initially see it, as it was taped to the interior of the lid, but when you raised your eyes, you saw it. It was a piece of paper - a note. 

Grimacing, you ripped it off where it was blowing violently in the wind, holding it tight between your fingers and smudging dirt along the untainted white. 

It read: 

‘Hey, Cheol. If you head up the path there’s a family of raccoons! I left this granola bar here so you could feed them! From Jun.’

“Hey, Seungcheol?” you said absently, staring over the blue, scribbled ink, worn out from months of rainwater dripping in through the planks. He hummed on the other end of the line. “There’s a note here for you. From a, uh, Jun?”

“Oh.”

There was a pause that you couldn’t decipher - maybe you could have, had you been there with Seungcheol. Maybe if you could read his face, his body, you could’ve known what it meant. But for now you just stood in the breeze. It was picking up, getting angrier, hurling at your clothes and hair, banishing you from the field. The flowers dangled uselessly. 

“Do you want me to read it to you?” 

Silence. 

“No, not really.” 

“Oh, okay. Uh, who’s- who’s Jun?” 

Silence. 

“The guy who used to work in Fermata Tower. Before you.” 

“Oh.” 

Every second was longer than the last. You wish you knew what it all meant, but you sensed in Seungcheol’s curtness that he was not taking questions currently, and so you looked around the quickly graying sky and the suddenly spiteful wind and folded the note away in your jacket pocket. 

“I’m gonna head back now,” even your voice was rocked by the wind. 

Seungcheol didn’t respond. 

You left Eleison Valley alone.  _____________________________

This was where it was supposed to be - greatness. Not success, but something greater, larger, more alive than you could ever be. You thought you’d find it in the mountains, the valleys, the lakes and the forests and maybe that had been naive of you - to think that nature and earth could give any sort of meaning that death had taken away from you. These shadowed parts only served to make you feel smaller, you realized. The mountains glared at you, the forests swallowed and spat you out. 

You couldn’t sleep. The image of Mingyu’s outstretched hand was back and you could almost see him from your flimsy bed, lying on his back with a tanned hand out for you. You left him alone, just like you always had. 

Burrowed under the veil of your thin blanket, grabbing at it with clumsy hands, you turned your back to Mingyu’s corpse on your floor.

A prickle sauntered up your back. It was that emotion that something was creeping closer, something was out to get you. That you would feel a cool, dead hand on your back and when it would spin you around his face would be there, and he’d look nothing like himself; he’d be pale and purple around the mouth and his eyes would be sunken and dark and all the glitter he possessed - that he used to possess - would be gone and something menacing, like a hungry mountain, would have replaced it. 

You thrashed, suddenly, to look back at the corpse. It was still there. Hadn’t moved an inch. Deja vu. 

Thoughtlessly, desperately, you fumbled for the radio wrapped up the sheets of your bed. Your fingertips found the plastic hardware, and it bounced at your eagerness, before you pulled it along the sheets and up to your mouth. 

“Seungcheol?” you gasped. 

When did you start crying? You decided you must’ve been crying all night and maybe you’d cried so much that your brain had stopped registering the feeling of wet tears. 

There was a pause. A long one. So long, you started to really become aware of the cries of the wind, the patter of the rain and the endless mumbling of the trees (and the gargled, bubbling blood rising from Imaginary Friend Mingyu’s half-open mouth). Then static spoke back to you: 

“Yeah?” his voice was so raspy, you registered that you must’ve awoken him from his sleep, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your nails dug into the radio and you pressed it into your chest, holding on tight. 

“I can’t sleep,” you whispered, words full of shaky air. There was another pause and for a second you feared that Seungcheol might’ve gotten angry and gone back to bed. But he spoke again.

“Are you okay?” You heard rustling on his end, and you imagined him standing up from the bed, looking out at your lonely island of a lookout tower. “Do I need to trek over there?” 

“No!- no, I couldn’t ask you to do that,” you protested, then trailed off. 

“... Are you crying?” 

You squeezed your eyes shut: “I just- d’you remember what I said? About my- my friend’s friend who- who had a bad mushroom trip?” 

“Uh, yeah, I remember. Her- Her house flooded, right?” Seungcheol’s voice was tainted with thorough confusion, but not annoyance. Never annoyance. 

“Well, I just-” you sputtered and sighed. You almost wanted to stop talking and give up when Seungcheol stayed quiet on his end and drew the words forward: “It’s so stupid. Sometimes I just- I just feel like that. Like you’re drowning, everywhere you go. You know?” 

Your voice was stringent with nervousness, and you picked at your nail, wrapped around the radio in the shallow dark. 

“It’s not stupid, sweetheart,” he mumbled. It was amazing to you how gruff and tough Seungcheol turned soothing and caring so fast. The nickname felt like a warm hug, and you almost didn’t register the sound of fabric rustling once more. “I’m coming over.”

“N-No!” you gasped sharply. Your eyes flickered down. Mingyu watched from the floor, eyes glazed over from death. He smelled foul.

“Can you.. Can you just- talk to me?” you whispered helplessly, and Seungcheol quieted down, seemingly weighing your proposal. 

“Okay. Okay, sweetheart, I’ll talk to you,” Seungcheol whispered soothingly, and for God’s sake, you didn’t even know what he looked like, but the rasp in his voice, and the comfort and warmth that sung out the speaker of the radio had your heart clenching in your chest. “What do you wanna talk about?” 

“Um, I don’t know,” you sniffled. Seungcheol only softened his voice and sat, awake in the middle of the night, comforting you.

“Can I tell you about birds?” 

He told you about birds for 45 minutes before you fell asleep (something he had predicted would happen); he told you about how pheasants are known for their striking colors and how they have excellent eyesight; he told you how he saw a nightjar just before going to bed that night, and how they’re incredibly hard to spot; he told you about Barrow’s Goldeneyes, and how they’re the funniest little guys, and he loves them, because they glow purple in the sunlight; he told you about g…

Oh. You must’ve started dozing off.  _____________________________

You weren’t sure when it changed, but at some point you looked out the window, and the mountain looked a lot more like yourself. 

You were getting better, happier, you were waking up with more energy, you were bubblier. You weren’t entirely sure you could blame it on the park though. For two months you’d had your job and for about two months, every once in a while, you’d radioed Seungcheol at night, and without any question, he’d tell you about birds. 

It sounded stupid the more you thought about it, but his voice lulled you into a comfortable sleep even on Mingyu’s most insistent nights. 

You’d wake up and patrol your area, then you’d settle back in for a couple of hours, watching out for fire hazards and guests in the park, before you’d patrol one more time. Then you’d go to bed. 

This was not the type of job you took to make friends, but somehow Seungcheol had become the reason you woke up everyday. Everyday you looked forward to walking through the woods with his voice on your radio, and you looked forward to making him laugh and him making you laugh. 

“Seungcheol, I’ve got eyes on what I’m pretty sure is a Red-breasted Merganser, come in.” 

This morning you were up extraordinarily early - for you, that is. You weren’t certain what exactly prompted this early rise (maybe you were finally sleeping right thanks to a certain rough-throated man?), but nonetheless you’d enjoyed the view of dawn along the undergrowth and had eaten half-warm oatmeal in bed with an open book. Now you were bored and craving the attention of your only forest-companion. 

Seungcheol didn’t respond like you were expecting though. When the radio crinkled in response, you heard him panting on the other end and thumps, like he was picking it up off the floor. 

“That’s… That’s great, Fermata. I’ve gotta get my.. My binoculars out,” he heaved for air and fumbled clumsily with the sensitive mic. You cringed at the sound. 

“What are you doing? Why are you so out of breath?” you asked. A twinge of worry slipped out in your tone. Was he okay? 

“I’m, uh, working out,” Seungcheol chuckled, and he seemed to finally regain composure, clearing his throat sheepishly. “You’re not usually awake to hear it.” 

“You work out every day?” 

“Sure do - gotta be prepared to knock out a grizzly,” he grunted. 

You leaned back in your seat, a less than amused expression on your face, because a twirling strand of fire danced up your chest and settled into your cheeks. Why was it suddenly so hot? Fire spread across your nerve endings and twinged you red in the apples of your cheeks. You ran your hands over your face to soothe the sizzling.

This was ridiculous, you thought. Seungcheol was not making you blush. You didn’t even know what he looked like! He might as well have had an eye patch and a mohawk. But even as you halfheartedly scrutinized yourself, your thoughts clouded over the idea of sweet, attentive, raspy Seungcheol with big arms and thighs and a sculpted chest and-

“Are you- are you, like, buff?” 

The question left your lips before you could stop it. Your voice broke halfway through the sentence and you let go of the button with an embarrassed hiss, like a kettle huffing out air. The embarrassment, that was potent and squeezing at your chest, worsened when you heard Seungcheol’s throaty chuckle on the other end, limp and dry. 

“You’re curious today, aren’t you?” he mused then, smirk clear from the tone and pronunciation of the words, and you squeezed your eyes shut because why was his voice and the thought of him and the warmth coming through the radio speaker suddenly bothering you so much?

The truth was you hadn’t masturbated in months. With everything going on, you simply hadn’t felt the urge or the want. But, it occurred to you, now that you were slowly becoming a functioning human once more, the urge was returning hot and fast in your core, and, of course, your only companion with the raspy voice and the attentive words and the apparently muscly body was bringing forth this urge with ease. 

You pressed down the urge, taking a deep breath before you pressed the button once more. You were not going to masturbate to the thought of Seungcheol - not Seungcheol who you only knew by voice, who had been nothing but caring and sweet to you. You could not corrupt the preciousness of your companionship with your lewd, depraved thoughts. 

“I’m just curious what you look like. Unlike you, stalker, I don’t have binoculars!” That sounded a lot more like the you that had not just gotten wet at the thought of Seungcheol’s bulging muscles. 

“Hey! The power of the binoculars is limited. I can only really see your silhouette, nothing fancy,” he defended and then right as you were about to respond, he knocked the wind out of you again: “And yes, I’m pretty buff, if I do say so myself.”

Ugh. 

You went the rounds that day and got through another day without having to complete fire protocol, ending out the evening with a pack of instant noodles your family had so graciously sent you (Seungcheol scolded you: “That has no nutrients!”). However each step through the forest and each slurp of noodles and page of your book was plagued by the latent fire inside you. A burning occupied your abdomen fueled by the echoing morning voice of Bay Valley Tower. 

By nightfall you gave in. You were only a girl. This didn’t have to change anything, you thought, as the park turned plum purple. You settled into bed in your pajamas, sitting upright against the frail wood wall and letting your hair bunch on the rattling plate of glass. Your eyes moved to and fro, bouncing over the now lived-in cabin and taking in the dark void of the farest corner. 

Briefly, you fiddled with your radio in your palm. You could call Seungcheol and- wait, why would you do that? No, no. You packed away that wicked thought - it only served to make you feel more guilty. No, instead you slid down the wall to lay in your pillow, now positive you were alone. 

An owl hooted outside and you slipped your hand into your underwear. 

It was surprisingly easy to surrender your consciousness to the lust (and you had, God bless your soul, stayed wet throughout the entire day). It clouded you over, as you began rubbing up and down your pussy, ghosting over your clit to dip down to your glazed slit. Your eyes squeezed shut and you conjured your best doll-replica of Seungcheol.

In your dream he was a faceless mist, but he had a carved upper body, and from the fog surrounding his head spewed his voice - dripping in warmth and comfort, as you imagined it was his toned arm reaching between your legs and pumping into you.

Your other hand snaked down to your clit, where your hips canted off the bed. In the whirl of thrusting into yourself and rubbing tight circles in your clit, you realized, lip bitten raw under your prying teeth, that there was no reason to hold back your moans. It was only forest and wasteland for miles - and surely Seungcheol would not hear you in his floating snow globe. 

“A-ah, Seungcheol,” you wantonly murmured, burying your head in your pillow and sighing lazily. A flush had crept up your neck, where your chest expanded to allow for air. The pleasure was immense - probably more intense, since it had been quite a while - warmth spreading in your lower stomach and culminating at your throbbing clit. Recklessly, you moaned and thrashed as you fucked yourself on your fingers, hiking towards your orgasm. “Seungcheoool-”

“Y/n?” 

You froze. 

Maybe you’d imagined it. Still, your fingers were stopped in their tracks, simply resting on the warmth of your folds, itching to continue. You sat up in bed and tried to ward away the creeping panic. Your heart began to gallop to the beat of a siren. 

The air had been starched when you finally pulled your hand out of your underwear, hot cheeks and glistening hands all over, when you began searching for the radio.

“Y/n, are you okay?” 

You had your back hunched over the edge of the bed, searching for the little yellow receiver, when his voice came again in a thick forest of static. You snapped your head to under your comforter, where the noise was slightly muffled. 

In a blurred panic, you threw the comforter off of you and spotted the small radio by your calf, and you scrambled to pick it up. When the dirty plastic touched your cheek, you stopped, sighed a shaky, hot breath, and closed your eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m, uh, I’m fine. What’s up?” you let go of the button and cringed at your own disheveledness, the breath and shake in your voice. You pressed your forehead radio-front in a silent prayer. 

There was a hesitance to Seungcheol when he spoke next: “... You were calling for me, you sounded in pain?” 

This was certainly the worst thing he could’ve said. You would’ve rather he told you he spotted a bear at the foot of your tower, trying to eat you! You must’ve accidentally kicked the radio and hit the button, you decide, and you damn yourself for keeping it in the bed - of course, shit like this would happen!

“I was…-” (If only you were a better liar), “- pranking you…” 

Seungcheol huffed out in amusement on the other end and you wanted to jump off the railing to the lookout tower and break your neck. “You were pranking me?” 

You gulped with a decidedly dry mouth. “It was a bear attack prank.” 

Seungcheol was smiling: “Yeah?” 

You were not: “Yeah.” 

There was an entropic silence, where you thoughts came rambled and pleading in your head: Please, just let this go, please, just let this go, let’s pretend it never happened, let’s-

“You wanna know what I think you were doing?” 

Seungcheol’s voice had dropped an octave. The smile in his voice was gone and there was something menacing and commanding about him now. In the moment, overcome with a cocktail of guilt and shame, you could not discern if this was anger or lust - the first seemed fitting. 

“I think you were fucking your little fingers thinkin’ about me,” he hummed and in response you whined and squeezed your eyes shut. The shame encapsulated you. “Shh, shh, calm down, I’m not mad, honey.” 

Blinking through rapidly forming tears, you opened your eyes to stare, dumbfounded, at the radio (as if it were Seungcheol and you were not several miles apart). “Really?” 

“Not mad at all. Jus’ think you should’ve told me if you wanted my help,” he tutted on his end and, God, he was so nurturing and comforting and he knew it, and it was so sexy. Your pussy, which had vaguely throbbed from the negligence throughout, was now screaming for your attention, hole clenching sadly around nothing. 

“I thought you wouldn’t want-” 

“You’re crying again, baby,” he must’ve noted from the hoarseness of your voice and the sniffles that accompanied every syllable. 

“Just want you so bad,” you sobbed, now shamelessly slipping your hand back into your underwear and sighing dazedly in relief when you touched it again. 

“Need Seungcheol to take care of you, huh?” The smile in his voice was back. 

“Yeah.” 

“Bet you don’t want me talking about birds now, hm?” he chuckled (at his own joke), voice low and raspy. “Are you touching that pretty pussy?” 

“Mhmm,” you responded lazily, floating high on the sound of his voice and jolts of electricity they sent as you worked up a pace on your clit once more. The pain of the interruption ebbed away. 

“Good girl, hm?” He knew. “Getting off to the sound of my voice, eh? Don’t even know what I look like.” 

“Hng- k-know you’re b-buff,” you gritted out, voice coming in sharp breaths. Your body moved languidly, back arching off the bed and hair coming out in choppy strands on your pillow. Seungcheol scoffed out a laugh: “Like knowing I could just fold you in half? Fuck you into tomorrow? Hm?” 

You let out a loud, dumb whine of his name. It was a total inability to get over his words; how melodious it was, and yet, how contradictory the smoothness of his words were to the strained nature of his thrumming voice. And the worst of it all was how confident he was - you supposed hearing someone else masturbate to you would be a confidence boost - and how the arrogance swelled out in the most comforting, nurturing way. Each word felt like a hand on your body, like a caress that sent shivers down your spine. 

“Fuck, princess, say my name like that again. Please.” 

“Seungcheol!” you obliged mindlessly, legs shaking on either side of your glistening hand. 

“Shit, I-” he grunted, and you heard a fumbling of fabrics on his end. Your nerves spun in excitement at the thought of him getting hard at your voice. “Can you put two fingers in the pretty pussy - it’ll feel like one of mine, baby.” 

You cried out when your fingers entered yourself, pads of your fingertips rubbing against your walls. Outside of the windows, the park was an empty wasteland of mauve and orchid, and the Fermata lake was brilliantly alive and dipping under the three-quarter-moon. 

“Wish it was your pussy wrapped around my cock right now,” he grunted, and he’d lost breath and composure and if you knew what his face looked like, you would imagine it sweaty and twisted up and a red-lipped ‘o’ letting the jaw slack. 

Resuming your earlier motions (double-handing your own kitty), you felt your orgasm lurking in the pit of your stomach, a tight-wound knot being ripped apart. You were panting into the cool air, creating silver-clouds in your tower-home. “A-ah, want you inside me so bad, Cheol- shit! Gonna- gonna cum-” 

“Yeah? You gonna cum thinking about my cock inside you baby? Thinkin’ about me just bouncing you up and down like my little fuckdoll?” His speech ended in the prettiest moan you’d ever heard, and you imagined every well-defined, flexed muscle under the moonlight and the thought had your whole body jerking and shaking and when you closed your eyes the stars stayed with you, white and glimmering under your eyelid. 

The strangled moans of your orgasm sent Seungcheol over the edge - at least from what you could tell. His dirty talk turned into strings of curses and moans and grunts until the radio went dead, and all you could hear was your own labored breaths and the faraway hooting of a horned owl. 

The silence flatlined the excitement into nervousness. Your lip was almost automatically caught in your teeth and you glanced over the radio beside you through your lashes.

Oh shit. What the fuck had you done?

“Uh, did you-” the smell of sweat shot up as you shuffled in your sheet to grab the radio once more. “Did you, uh, cum?” 

Oh fuck. You just made it way worse.

The silence from the radio was much louder than any response, but when the receiver did finally crinkle with static, the sound of laughter exploded from it.

“Don’t fucking laugh at me, BV,” you scolded, but you were smiling and relief flooded you like water overflows Fermata Lake during heavy downpour. 

“I’m sorry,” he hiccuped on the other end. “It’s just-.. ‘DID YOU CUM?’” 

“Alright, I’m going to bed now. You suck,” you quacked, and even though you were alone you thought to suppress the gentle tugging at your lips into a sharky smile. 

“DID YOU CUM?” 

He sounded pretty when he laughed.  _____________________________

“I can’t believe I have to hike down here to confiscate some fireworks.” 

Your grumble came from the forest beside Fermata Lake. You were walking down a patch of dirt revealed from years’ of trampling feet, dewy sprigs of grass arching into the mud. A group of (presumably) teenagers were firing fireworks down near the edge of your assigned territory. 

“They’re a fire hazard!” Seungcheol squawked obviously, and you huffed in your boots, preparing to climb down a rocky slope. 

“I know that! It’s just everywhere - the website, the signs - don’t use fireworks!” you complained. Seungcheol hummed absently on the other line: “Go teach those suckers a lesson, Fermata!” 

“I will,” you said, agitated. 

“Just don’t fuck with their personal belongings. Last thing we need is a lawsuit. Again.”

“I won’t,” you said, deflated. 

Even in your most angered moments, you could hand yourself over to the gentle forest. No longer were you protruding into a bubble, straining to get through a barrier that was urging you out, but you were absorbed into it, like you were one of its own. 

The forest was lush with pines and brown and green moss painting bark and rocks, and the grass leapt higher than your knees, as you trudged further and further in. 

SWOOOOSH!

A firework propelled into the sky about 100 meters away, and you watched its ignited trails of smoke before it exploded into a fest of sparkling blue and gold. You huffed out in anger at the sight. The sky wasn’t even fully dark - it was merely a muted blue evening. 

“Did you see that?” Seungcheol came from the radio-speaker. 

“Yeah, I’m right with them.” 

As you padded closer the smell of wet pine cones and coltsfoot accompanied the sound of distant voices - indeed, they sounded juvenile. You could make out at least two girls and at least one boy, although their voices were hard to distinguish, the way they echoed in between the grid of trees.

“Hey!” you yelled, as you creeped just close enough. Their voices hushed and you saw their frightened faces lit by handheld, Target-bought flashlights when you peeled back the screen of a bramblebush. They were gathered together amongst a tent, flashlight lighting the plates of the faces ablaze in cool white.

“Cut it out with the fireworks, alright?” you huffed and your anger melted a little when you saw that they were indeed just kids - maybe 19? They seemed to have nothing to say, and so you scanned the beer cans and the scattered backpacks and finally caught sight of a bundle of rockets in the grass. Your brows furrowed, and you picked it up with a sternness. 

“Hey, that’s ours!” one kid chimed, but he made no move to stop you, really, as you trudged angrily back to the bush you had come from. 

“Not as long as you’re in our park, man. It’s a fire hazard.” 

“We’ll take them back home-” 

“Goodnight!” The desperate plea fell on deaf, tired ears. You just wanted to eat dinner, so you disappeared out on a trail of pine needles and valiantly ignored the trail of curses and insults following you. You could care less. 

“I got the fireworks, Seungcheol,” you sighed tiredly and your eyes were dark pits and your face was relaxed, if only to conservative energy. 

“Good job, Fermata.” 

You were not in the talking mood. Maybe Seungcheol could tell by your tone of voice; maybe he could hear it in your sigh; but Seungcheol piped up again: “You know, if you need some energy for the hike back, there’s a supply box - uhh, 52? - if you head upwards instead of towards Fermata Lake.” 

You wanted to be grumpy, you really did, but the thought of a salivating, expired, delicious, out-of-date granola bar had you changing course to the slowly gaining hill of the forest. 

It was weird. This was probably the closest you’d ever been to Seungcheol’s tower. Under the prickly cover of pine some mile in the distance, you could see a glowing square, perched over the treetops by long, wooden pillars, support beams crossing the middle. You couldn’t help but wanna go up to it. There had been an unbearable magnetic pull to his tower ever since that night however long ago. You decided to stay the course for Supply Box 52. 

“I can practically see you from here,” you commented, and the tower was becoming a beacon as the evening mulled darker and darker by the minute. 

“Really? Hang on,” he did not let go of the radio-button, and so you had the pleasure of listening to the ruffling of fabrics and thumps on the floor. “Can you see me flexing in the window?” 

“You’re such a dork,” you laughed, and the sound bounced off the pines and traveled up to the rock of the nearby Aluralura Mountain. “No, I’m not quite that close.” 

“Damn it!” 

“Yeah, it‘s a real shame,” you muttered, smiling, and then you caught sight of the supply box up ahead. The hill flattened out once more (to which you breathed a sigh of relief) and the box was perched on the edge facing the path that began onto the cliffs. This was Seungcheol’s territory - cliff sides and all. “I think I see Supply Box 52.”

“Open that bad boy up.” 

You entered the code, scrolling the mechanisms one by one until the numbers read 1-2-3-4 (you still thought this combination was ridiculous), and when you opened the lid it creaked horribly, worn from the weather. 

The wind was harsh that day, and a note, identical to the one you’d found at Eleison Valley, broke off its tape from the mean pushes of the wind. Instinctively, you grabbed it as it started to fly off, and your hand closed around it and crinkled it under your fingers. You looked at it with knitted brows. 

Wordlessly, you tucked it in between your side and your arm, redirecting your attention to the goodies in the supply box. 52 held a rope and a map and another directory for supply boxes and, to your exhausted delight, a box of grandma-looking caramels. You took the whole thing and stuffed it into your bag. 

As you shuffled, you put the note between your lips, stuffing the plastic container of gold-wrapped, sugary candies in between your rope and your own map and a coat for possible rain. When you zipped it up, the fabric of the bag warped grotesquely to fit the various items you’d brought. 

You pulled the note back out from your lips. A small wet patch of spit lingered on the paper, as you unfolded it. 

It read: 

‘Hey Seungcheol,

If you find this, I gotta go be with my mom now. I’ll miss you forever.

From Jun.’

The wind blew kisses on your back like the presence of a ghost.

“You find anything good?” Seungcheol’s voice peeked through the static of the radio. It had been quiet for a while. You couldn’t take your eyes off the letter. The ink was smudged and slurred. 

“Uh, caramels, actually,” you said, eyes dancing over each slope of ‘forever’. “Like, granny caramels.”

You put the letter away.  _____________________________

A week later and you were looking out of the window at pouring rain. The sky was smothered by a duvet of dark gray clouds, and the rain was coming harder than you’d ever seen. It was like thousands of bullets pelting into the ground and turning it soft and muddy, and the drops hit your roof like the nonstop click of a keyboard. 

"Rainy season, huh?” your mouth was to the radio. 

“Yeah. We’re gonna be staying up all night to watch out for lightning. Fire hazard.” 

“Shit, I should make coffee.” 

“I’m way ahead of you.” 

The lightning came and thunder followed. The sound was enormous and terrifying. It grumbled like a hungry beast and the sound bounced off of every mountain-wall and echoed from all sides. You felt very small, wrapped up in a blanket at your desk, a steaming cup of coffee by your side and your fire extinguisher evacuated from its holder to stand beside you, all red and shiny aluminum and rubber nozzle. 

“Did that look like it hit a tree?” you asked after seeing a zig-zagging bolt of lightning hanging a little too low over the crowns. Your voice was louder than usual - this night was a game of overpowering the screaming rain. It was some 1 AM.

“Uhhhhh, shit. Maybe. We’d see the fire, but it’s possible it’s at the root.” 

“Fuck,” you whispered. “Was that yours or my area?” 

“Uhhhhh-” 

“I’m gonna check it out.” 

Determined, you let the radio fall on the table, as you fumbled for another sweater. The knitted fabric slipped over your other sweater, and then you were wrapping yourself up in your raincoat.

“Maybe I should go - it’s slippery right now, it’s dangerous as fuck. You could fall and hit your head, you know. I think it was closer to me anyway, so--” 

“Seungcheol, I already have my coat on, I’m going!” 

And indeed you were going, despite the grumbled protests of Seungcheol. Your coat blew in the hurricane wind as you stood atop the cliff, looking down at the cascading water, that’d all race down to the sinkhole that was Fermata Lake. Through the clouds, there were no stars to trade glances with, not even ghosts.

You fought headwind the entire way, your hair flowing wildly and your coat threatening to unbutton at the will of the blasts. The ground under your rainboots had become mud and the further you trudged into the forest, the more the mud crept up your yellow shoe, slinging over you like liquid ropes. 

“I’m going down the drop off again!” you were screaming to overpower the wind, radio to your mouth before you dropped it into your pocket and retrieved your bag to regather your rope. 

“Be careful!” Seungcheol commandeered bitterly, muffled from your pocket. “It’s slippery as shit! Radio me immediately when you’re down, so I know you’re okay.” 

Even as your face grew wet and sore from the whipping rain, you scoffed. A gloved hand shoved into your pocket, brought the radio back up to your red lips: “Stop being such a pussy!” 

“Say yes, Y/n!” 

You rolled your eyes. “Aye, aye.”

“... I’ll take that, asshole.” 

Wet as a wipe, you slung your rope over the hook and prepared it in a slew of motions you’d by now memorized. Although, you noted your movements were awkward, somewhat impaired by the layers of fabric that encased you. Stubborn, you stood before the hook, grabbed onto the rope, and began walking backwards. 

Your booted foot curled around the edge of the cliffside, and with the tightened rope you began your careful horizontal walk. Raindrops pelted your face like a clenched fist, but you only blinked away the water and tried to focus on stepping carefully down the side of the rockface. 

KRRRRRRRRKKKKKK!

You screamed girlishly when your rope snapped from the hook, and you watched it come flying out over the ledge, before you realized, horrifically, you were already falling. 

It was barely a second, just one blurry image of the weeping sky, before you were on the ground, groaning in pain. A pulsing ache creeped up your spine, and you twisted your body in the mud to put the weight on your side. You sighed into the mud, dirt on your squished cheek. 

The rain was uncaring of your unfortunate situation, as you laid pathetically in the dirt, body scrunching up like an elastic, while your shadow was cast by sudden bursts of lightning. Panting, you pushed yourself up by your arms and felt blindly for your-

Where was your radio? 

Your pocket was deflated and empty, and you scrambled in the dirt, desperately, pushing yourself up completely to scan the area. You noted how the pain subsided into a small, dwindling soreness, thanking whatever God for your layers of clothing and the softness of the earth. 

There. A flash of yellow in your blurred vision, aided by another strike of lightning atop Aluralura Mountain. You picked up the worn, dirty radio in your heavy hand, pressing at its side. 

“Hello? Seungcheol?” 

There was no static to indicate your message had been relayed, and the usual red digital numbers telling you what channel you were on was gone, a simple, black screen remaining, mirroring your muddied face, twisted in anguish. 

“Fuck this,” you hissed, standing up on two legs. You looked back up to where your lookout tower was still ablaze, a yellow box in the heights. The rope was fucked. You had to go down anyway. Huffing, you started walking. 

You marched through the undergrowth, crossing through unpathed forest to reach the destination. It was near a hollow marked on your map, and so the expedition, although scarier, more empty and dark without Seungcheol's warm voice, was mild. 

Wet petals brushed your face from rows of bushes, and even through your gloves the cold left your fingertips numb. You sniffled in the dark. 

You found the hollow, then you found the tree. There was, indeed, ash going up the side of it, seemingly stemming from a smaller bush in the clearing, but the fire had been long put out by the insistent rain, and partially you felt disappointment that you’d trekked all the way out here, only for there to be no real danger. 

Heavier than ever, you turned your gaze to the glowing hut in the distance. 

You almost wanted to go back to your own hut, to turn your back to Seungcheol’s glowing tower and forget this ever happened. The anticipation of seeing him - of him seeing you - was a tall wall to overcome. But, you realized, not only was his tower closer; you also needed help. 

Your radio was fucked, your rope was fucked and moreover, you needed to be sure you hadn’t done irreparable damage to your back. With water dripping over the ledge of your hood, you began walking towards Seungcheol. 

Rainwater cascaded off the edge of the trees and the consistent dashed dots looked like tiny glass orbs in the light of Bay Valley Tower. It was intensely quiet for a while - it seemed like every bush-tailed critter of the forest had scuttered away to hide from the rain and the echoing growling of the sky. 

“Y/n!” 

You were so tired you almost could’ve missed it. Each layer of fabric weighed you down and the dirt smearing your cheeks and hands and fabrics could’ve melted you right into the earth. But indeed, a voice - so familiar it almost hurt - was calling to you in the dead of night.

“Seungcheol?” your first call was not a call, but a whisper, as you peered into the thick grooves of the forest. Then, your senses returned to you and you screamed as loud as you could: “Seungcheol!” 

“Y/n!”

You and Seungcheol called for each other, syllables echoing off the huge, towering presence Aluralura Mountain. Getting closer and then closer, and then you could see the figure of another raincoated person, shaded by a hood.

“Y/n? Oh, thank God!” He ran to you, swimming in the rubber of his red coat and pink lips peeking over the closed hood. 

It was a little paralyzing. He was so beautiful, you didn’t even know which speck of his shadowed face to look at. Tan, wet skin and big eyes from which the longest, blackest lashes you’d ever seen sprung. Most notable were his fuzzy, blocky eyebrows sitting over his brown eyes, fine wrinkles springing from the corners (you’d like to think you’d helped create some of those). His lips were big and bright and pouty, but it was wiped away when he smiled at the sight of you, and you could die, because a dimple indented itself in his cheek at the motion. 

“Are you okay?” his smile faded when you said nothing, only stared at him, and then stared at where his thick fingers wrapped around your arm. He leaned into you and God, you hadn’t seen him before this very moment, and now he was leaning over you and he was so close and he smelled like pinewood, and you were pretty sure you smelt exactly the same. 

You lowered yourself from your daze, trying to follow the pattering of rain atop both of your hoods. “Uh,” you gulped, finding his eyes, “yeah, I jus’... I thought you were joking when you said you weren’t white.” 

His laugh. His laugh was even prettier in person and it had the same rasp and the same disapproving hint to it that it had had at all your other jokes. “You’re unbelievable, you know that, Fermata?” 

“Bird watching is crazy, man.” 

He smiled and studied your face for a moment, still leaned over you and thoroughly ignoring the rain and the thunder and the dirt on your boots. Then the smile faded, just a little: “What happened to your radio?” 

“Oh- oh my God! Do you- do you remember my first day? The drop off! I fuckin’- fell down, my rope came undone on the hook! My radio was knocked the fuck out, it was crazy, I’m gonna need a new one-”

“Are you okay? You fell?” Seungcheol’s strong eyebrows became furrowed and the sight was so utterly mesmerizing to you. You waved him off: “I’ll be fine, please, I just want to get out of this weather.” 

Seungcheol did not seem to entirely believe you, but nonetheless he grabbed your hand - in his own rough, used one - and started leading you upwards (“If I don’t hold your hand, how can I be sure you don’t fall down another drop off?”).

Time was not as agonizingly slow by his size, and the tower seemed to propel towards you and the hands on your wristwatch seemed to move backwards. Not before long, you were climbing up the stairway with Seungcheol’s iron fist on your wrist, so as to prevent you from falling down something else (you had a feeling that he would not let this go). 

“I’m gonna make us some tea,” grumbled Seungcheol when you arrived.

“Yes, please,” you murmured. Your coat was folded beside you, starry raindrops soaking into a blanket thrown over his bed. 

It was warm in Seungcheol’s tower house - he had half a brain to put an electric heater in the corner of the room, unlike you - and it was only the sudden embrace of warmth that had you looking out into the park and realizing you would have frozen to death if you’d stayed. 

There was a warm glow from a naked bulb in the ceiling (you guessed Seungcheol had put it up himself), an old rug full of sand-corns, and a shelf with various books. Seungcheol also had a small kitchen, a desk and a bed, just like you. The layout was exactly the same, but sitting down on Seungcheol’s bed, you noted he must’ve made some alterations. Your fingers pulled at the white of the mattress - it was his own and it was much softer.  

When the electric kettle (a rusted, iron old thing) was cooking, Seungcheol turned to you sheepishly and unzipped his coat. You waited in secret anticipation for his supposedly smoking-hot bod, but were disappointed to see another sweater underneath it. 

Seungcheol stopped the kettle and took two large mugs from his cupboard. These, he placed on a carved tray (you thought he might have made it himself from pinewood), and then from a small, wooden tea box on his countertop, he produced two bright yellow tea packets, which he gently placed in the mugs. Then he poured in the water, steam traveling up to open his pores and whatnot. 

“Do you want anything in yours?” he asked, not really looking. 

“Uhm. No, no, thank you,” your hands were folded in your lap. 

He only grunted in response and left one tea untouched, then took a clear, plastic container of honey from an array of unrefrigerated condiments, and squirted half the bottle into his tea. He sniffled when he was done, grabbing the tray and turning to you. Tonight, Seungcheol was uncharacteristically nervous.

“Can you-?”

“Hm?”

“That little- little table over there-”

“What?”

“Can you grab it?- For- for the tray?” 

“Oh, yeah, sure.” 

The tea sat on the tray and the tray sat on the foldable table and you and Seungcheol sat before them on the edge of his bed. You took the hefty mug in your hand and took a slurp, looking over at him from the rim. Seungcheol looked at you awkwardly. He did not move for his tea. 

“I should take a look at your back,” he said. 

“What? Why?” you quacked disapprovingly. “You fell on it,” Seungcheol reminded you.

You shook your head silently. “I like your hut. It’s way better than mine.” 

“I’ve been here longer,” Seungcheol shrugged. You looked at him and he seemed displeased - this would not have been a big deal were you speaking to him on the radio, but his aura was much more commanding in person - something about his eyes, you thought. You had to look away, settling on your mug again (there was a cartoon dog on it). 

“I suppose that’s true,” you murmured. Seungcheol stared into the side of your face and his obvious concern for you weighed down at your muscles. 

A gentle pause where rain pattered his roof. 

“Are you okay?” 

You glanced over, nervously: “Tired.” 

He bit his lip: “Maybe I should’ve made coffee... Can we put instant coffee in tea?” 

“Seungcheol, I wanted to ask you something,” you said and put your mug down on the tray again with a small ‘clink’. Seungcheol rubbed his hands over his trouser-clad thighs, nodding, maybe more nervous than you. The warm glow of the bulb made him even prettier and all was warm and dry in the hut, even though rain was falling down in thick curtains just outside by the troughs. “It’s just..” you began, “you’ve been so avoidant about this.. Jun guy..”

Seungcheol’s sigh interrupted you before you could finish: “He was just the guy that worked here before you.” 

“I found another letter.”

Seungcheol’s furrowed expression softened and he looked at you with big, glassy brown eyes, hidden under a waft of choppy bangs. What was that in the shine of his pupil? Fear? Vulnerability? Sadness?

“It was about- it said he was gonna go be with his mother and that- that he would miss you,” you explained and your voice was snotty and throaty, and your eyes averted to a folded napkin beside a half-eaten slice of bread. A fly circulated it hungrily. 

Seungcheol’s lips made a tight line, dimples poking out pathetically. He cleared his throat and you heard the strain in his vocal chords once more (and it was so real because there he was - right beside you). 

“Me and Junhui came here together. We’d just finished college and we didn’t want-.. We didn’t want to be adults yet. Like, an office job, wife and kids,” he began and there was a tremor about Seungcheol tonight. “I don’t think he was made for a job like this though. I think the loneliness got to him.. Think he just lived with it ‘cause he could tell I liked it.” 

You nodded along until he wasn’t speaking anymore. Then a thick silence absorbed the two of you, a patch of moss drowned in the downpour. 

“His mom was dead, so..” he whispered. Tears gathered at his waterline like a string of stars. “So, yeah, he went to.. To be with her.” 

“I’m so sorry, Seungcheol,” you whispered and the echoing whispers of the storm bouncing off the rock faces of Aluralura mountain beckoned your hand onto his woolen sleeve. “I had no idea.” 

“They never found his body, you know? He’s just out there, somewhere,” both you and Seungcheol turned your heads out to the pitch black expanse of the massive park. Your mind wandered to every crook and crevice you’d seen out there, wondering if a dead body had hidden behind a quarry rock. “Fuckin’ terrified I’ll find him one day. Just… Rotten.” 

You didn’t know what to say. What do you say? Even though you’d stood in a similar situation - losing a friend - you couldn’t find anything that could ease his pain, the pain that was now tinting the light blue and dulling the sound of the rain. The whole room was pulsating. Luckily, it seemed Seungcheol had something more to say. You watched his lips pucker as the words tried to leave his tongue, then watched them draw back. 

“He used to.. He used to say this thing. It reminded me so much of what you- you said that night about, uhm, your friend’s friend. He used to say that- that sometimes he’d wake up in the middle of the night and he’d just be.. Totally.. Convinced that he was at the bottom of Fermata Lake and he was drowning,” Seungcheol’s voice broke one too many times and his jaw clenched. “God, I was so worried. Jus’ thought I couldn’t- I couldn’t be the reason that happened again.” 

“I…” A tear slipped down your face and your hand left Seungcheol’s arm to wipe it, furiously.He turned to you pitifully, the broad width of his shoulders hanging low. “I’m sorry- you weren’t meant to feel that way-”

“It’s okay. I wanted to help,” Seungcheol grabbed your hands in his, a deep frown on his lips. 

You stopped the tears, face burning hot and wet when you looked up at him again, calmed. His thumbs stroked over the backs of your hands. The pads were rough and beaten. 

“Y’know it was sort of the same for me,” you said. Seungcheol waited for you to talk patiently and with a small, encouraging smile, as warmth streamed from his hands into yours.

“Yeah, my- uh roommate - best friend - died. And I couldn’t stop thinking about how I found him, like, his hand was just outstretched towards- towards the wall to my room, and he must’ve just lied there while his heart was giving out and I wasn’t there-... And I found him the next morning like that and I thought he was asleep and I left him there. Again. And I just can’t stop seeing him everywhere and for a while I was afraid that he would move, you know, like, start crawling towards me or some shit, but I think now I’m actually more afraid that he’ll never move. I think that’s the joke or whatever, he just won’t move, he’ll just be there the way I left him- and I guess- I guess, I thought I could find some sort of higher purpose out here, but I just can’t.. I feel more as though.. Like, it was these things that took him away from me, these fundamental parts of- existence. Like all the cliffs have evil faces and they want to take me too, and maybe I did want them to take me, but not- not anymore. I don’t know if that makes any sense?” 

You peered up at Seungcheol through your lashes, wet and heavy. He was frowning, hands gripping yours tighter.

“You don’t want them to take you anymore?” he asked quietly. You shook your head. “How so?”

“Honestly, I don’t think it has much to do with me or the park. I think-” you gaze flitted to Seungcheol and he smiled knowingly. You scoffed and smiled too. 

Although you both were fully clothed (Seungcheol annoyingly so), it felt as if all the layers had been stripped away one by one; sweaters and trousers, skin and meat and bones. All there was left were two brightly glowing hearts in front of one another. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered then. “You don’t have to say it.”

You rolled your eyes: “I think it’s because of you.” 

He grinned, wrinkles crinkling the corners of his eyes and cheeks bunching up in shiny, red fat. You poorly suppressed your own grin and the two of you leaned into each other when your eyes hooked, laughing into each other's shoulders.

“You’re so dumb,” you complained, forehead scratching against the stiff, knitted threads in Seungcheol’s shirt. 

“I think- I think we both jus’ get dumber together,” you could feel his smile into your neck and the hot stream of air that bounced against the skin. 

Right as you were about to pull away, Seungcheol’s arms wrapped around your back and pushed you back into him. You giggled at the motion, but with little thought your own arms wrapped around his back too, and your knees clashed where they met. 

“Seungcheol?” your voice was muffled by his neck. His only response was hum, that ruminated from deep in his throat right by your ear. You pulled away until you were staring at his face. 

Each thick stroke of eyebrow hair, each long, black eyelash and each mole dotted on his softly aging skin was crystal clear then. Your hands wrapped around his biceps and felt your heart buzz at their pronounced carvings under the wool. Seungcheol smiled down at you in a sort of adoring way.

“I think-” you began, then felt stupid, then felt idiotic and cowardly. “I don’t know- I think we should kiss now?” 

It came out as more of a question than a statement. 

Seungcheol gravelled a laugh and his eyes became all squinty and he pursed his lips as if it concealed his amusement in any way at how you squirmed beneath him and your face heated up. 

“I think you’re right,” he nodded and you could barely register the feeling of joy that exploded in your chest, before Seungcheol’s pillowy lips crashed into yours at the same instance as a crack of thunder. 

The lightning was a flickering show to the performance of yours and Seungcheol’s passionate kiss. His lips molded to yours and yours to his, warm and chapped and your hands couldn’t help but wrap around the soft planes of his cheeks - to pull him further, to keep him with you. 

Seungcheol grappled for your hips, and you moaned in a sort of discombobulated agreement, as he, with shocking ease, pulled you into his lap. His hands on your body, stroking and pressing into the meat, left a burning ghostly trail behind it. 

“Can I be honest?” you mumbled in between bitten kisses and panted breaths. “You’re hotter than I imagined.” 

Seungcheol smiled into the kiss at that: “You too, baby. Now you get the real thing, hm? After fucking your sweet pussy thinking about me?” 

You whined in response, hips canting down into his and head dropping into the warm crook of his neck. You licked mindlessly at the skin, rolling your hips into his. Seungcheol groaned and steel hands halted your eager core. 

“Desperate so quick?” he quirked, and you cried out because how could even begin to describe how hot it was that he could entirely still your movements so nonchalantly? You swallowed before you tilted your head from the safety of his neck. 

“I have waited so fucking long for your cock, Cheol. I need it inside me now,” you said seriously, and it was his turn to swallow the rising viscous in his throat, before he nodded and pushed you off his lap to remove his trousers. 

You saw the way the metal of the belt reflected the light, as he (almost angrily) began journeying it off his middle, and you took the hint, beginning to discard your clothes. Your first sweater fell to the floor, then the next followed, and then you were stomping the floor to rid your soaked trousers. Another article of clothing that was soaked - your panties! And embarrassingly so, you thought, watching the slick, wet patch as you lowered the material to the floor. 

Only then did your attention return to Seungcheol, now fully naked in his hut with windows on all sides, and you audibly gasped. 

His torso was one huge slab of muscle and meat. The skin was relatively pale, pronounced pecs and his arms were like tree trunks at his sides. His thighs were fucking huge, indentations of muscles peering through his skin, as he impatiently worked his boxers off. 

He halted though at your gasp, smirking cockily before returning to his work.

“Is it as good as you imagined when you came thinkin’ ‘bout me?” he muttered as his boxers slid down his calf. Too busy staring at his girthy, leaking cock sprouting between his legs, you neglected to answer and Seungcheol continued in a deliberately raspy tone: “Jus’ thinking about your pretty moans, my cock’s aching for you, princess. You’re not gonna come warm it up, beautiful?” 

“Yes-” you stumbled over a treacherous boot, “yes, I am!” 

“Good girl,” Seungcheol rumbled, bemused, as your knees floundered into the mattress and back into his lap. Seungcheol seemed to have other plans, however, because as soon as you had found your footing, and his warm hands were sliding up your back and his neck was craned up to you, breath hitting your breasts, he raised you and flipped you over, so you were digging into the mattress and he was above you. The shadows only served to define the chisel of his arms further. 

His hand slid down your soft thighs, settling in between your legs to run two fingers through your folds. 

“Your pussy is so pretty,” he whispered, somewhat mesmerized at the slick coating his fingertips. You squirmed impatiently and he shushed you, ever so gently: “Shh, baby, I’ll take care of you.” 

Immediately following up on his promise, the two fingers snaked down to your sensitive, pulsing hole, prodding gently. You wiggled and whined, one of your hands (which had been gripping his bedsheets) stopped him at the wrist. He stopped, eyes flitting up to your flushed, shiny face questioningly. 

“I wan’ your cock now. No prep,” you scowled, strands of hair sticking out messily. Seungcheol frowned. 

“I need to-” 

“I’m wet enough, please, been thinkin’ ‘bout this since-..” you cut yourself off with a frustrated sigh, eyebrows knitted together in frustration. Seungcheol couldn’t help but smile at how fucked out you were already, so precious, all beautiful and naked and womanly. 

“You sure?” he asked, voice matching the depth of the thunder. You nodded eagerly: “Please, please-” 

“Okay,” he murmured, sticky hand leaving your burning pussy in favor of pressing it against the underside of your thigh. At the command of his strong hands, your body folded in half and the realization of your position had you crying out pathetically. “Anything for my beautiful baby.” 

My. His. The word choice had you clenching around nothing, all spread out for him while he lined his pretty, red cock up with your entrance. 

“Gonna feel real full in a minute, yeah?” he said absently, watching intently at how your pretty pussy was splayed out and ready and aching for him, mind reeling at the sight of you and the smell of you and how you felt under his hands. 

And suddenly it was there - a mountain of pressure building around the head of his cock as it pushed inside, bursting when he pushed in a little further, until he was fully nestled inside. Seungcheol was not unaffected, body curling over yours animalistically with a deep, throaty groan. You, too, had to squirm and moan wantonly, as your body shone under the bulb. 

“You’re so tight, pretty,” Seungcheol managed, face scrunched up, as his pelvis met your pubic bone. His hands gripped your shaking legs once more, fully folding you in half and you cried as the movement invited him further inside, feeling him brush the spongy spot inside you. 

“Feel s’good!” you moaned, even as he hadn’t moved yet, and Seungcheol’s hands squeezed you in response. 

Experimentally (perhaps fearful, as you had rushed into it without preparation), Seungcheol thrust shallowly and was pleased at your broken cry, so he did it again and then again, and then he was building up a rhythm and your sultry moans were slipping through the cracks of the hut and bouncing off the walls of Aluralura mountain and echoing twenty times over. 

There was nothing sweet about the pace of Seungcheol’s hips. He was pistoning in and out with an impressive agility, huffing over your folded body. It was desperation; the way your nails raked over his back and his sloping arms, and sweet, little whimpers and your pussy choking his cock. 

“Sweetest, prettiest-” he squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, stomach caving inwards and clenching. “Fuck, cutest, little princess being stuffed full of my cock.”

“Love your cock,” you babbled, “Love- love your cock, love you.” 

The words slipped out as if they were nothing, but their meaning was solidified by your raking hand sneaking up to his neck and pulling him down into another sloppy kiss. Tongues melding and spit trickling down your chin as he hummed into your mouth in the most wonderful way. 

“Love you, too. Pretty, funny, sweet girl-” 

“A-ah, ‘m gonna cum soon,” you warned, voice nothing but a breath, and your face pleasured, scrunched up in the dead of night. Your stomach was a well of pressure.

“I know, baby, I know. Squeezing me so tight,” he soothed, hands running up and down the plush underside of your thighs, as his hips continued their unrelenting pace. “Come on, cum on my cock.” 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Seungcheol-” a string of curses and his name followed as your pussy clenched one last hard time and your cum seeped out around his thick, veiny length.

Holding his own orgasm at bay, he clenched his jaw and gritted out: “Where d’you want my cum?” 

“Inside!” you mewled, overstimulated and sore, and legs still pressed to your chest, clammy and slick. 

Seungcheol would’ve made a snarky remark was he not already cumming at your words, white seed painting your insides and spilling out around his softening length. He thrust a couple more times, relishing in the sounds of your fucked-out moans before he’d emptied himself, and he dropped down beside you. 

Due to the nature of a one-person bed, you and Seungcheol were both pressed close to one another, covered in sweat. Your panting, huffing breaths synchronized and you stared into each other's eyes, all wild and blushed. 

“Holy shit,” you whispered, brought back to reality by a distant calling owl. You were still in the park, you realized - not some other pleasure dimension like one may have thought. Seungcheol smiled giddily.

You looked out into the wasteland, and your eyelids and limbs (draping over Seungcheol’s big, pretty body) were suddenly heavy. You yawned.

“D’you think we have to stay up anymore?”

Seungcheol watched you gauging the pinelands with starry eyes. “You can go to bed,” he offered gently, “I’ll stay up and make sure the storm’s over.” 

“Are you sure?” you mumbled, but you were already settling into the domes of his chest, closing your eyes. Seungcheol looked at you and thought you were adorable. 

“Yeah.” 

“Can you stay here?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Can your dick stay inside me?” 

This prompted a laughter blooming all the way from his chest, where your cheek bunched up against the skin. His arm was wrapped around your back. 

“Sure, baby.” 

You mumbled something like ‘okay’ or ‘good’ or ‘thank you’, and you drifted off into sleep with his arms around you, and when Seungcheol was certain the storm had passed, he nuzzled his head into your hair and dozed off himself. 

At the swimming red sky of dawn, your eyes pried open to see Seungcheol already awake, still wrapped around you. 

Nonchalantly (that is to say: as if your chest was not bursting with glee), you nodded your head over to the window behind him:

“Is that not a black-billed cuckoo?!” 

And Seungcheol thought that maybe you and him could find birds together elsewhere too. 

#svt smut #seventeen smut #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol smut #seungcheol angst #svt angst #seventeen angst #choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol smut #svt x you #seventeen x you #seungcheol x you #seungcheol x y/n #angst #smut

[mxqdii]

OMG NOW THAT U SAY THAT PLEASE WRITE A MATT OR CHRIS FIC BASED ON I CAN SEE U😻😻

i can see you - c.s

pairings: chris sturniolo x reader

summary: reader suddenly develops feelings for chris sturniolo (based off of t.s song 'i can see you')

warning(s): fluff, mutual pining, kissing.

not proofread

i've been friend's with the triplets for as long as i can remember.

but lately things have been different.

"this is bad, this is really bad alahna" i say with the phone up to my ear, ranting to my best friend

"okay calm down, it's chris, you know chris, you gotta tell him" she says and i let out a shakey breath

"alahna i-" i start but get interrupted

"y/n, you and i both know you guy's have always been something a little more than friends, its obvious, now tell him how you feel." she prys.

the call ends shortly after that, leaving me time to think about what alahna was saying.

i've never seen chris like that, right?

i've always thought of him as a friend, i just feel like now i can see him, like my eyes have been opened.

my thoughts are interrupted with my phone vibrating, seeing a text from chris.

great.

chris: yo, we're going to see a movie and you're coming, i already bought your ticket.

y/n: fine but only if you pick me up

chris: i always do princess

my eyes widen at the last message, princess?

calming myself down at that comment that got me way too flustered, i tell myself it was a joke and start getting ready for the movies.

for some reason, for the first time in forever, i put thought into what i wear.

i take the time to look good, which is odd considering it's just the triplets.

i mean, ive known them since i was 6, what's with the desire to 'dress to impress" now?

the doorbell rings and i jump

shit they're here.

i open the door with shakey hands, being met with nick, letting out a breath of relief knowing chris is in the car

a breath i didn't know i even had in.

"heyy- wait what's wrong" he asks and i groan

"don't worry about it, lets go" i say, grabbing his wrist dragging him back to the car.

"helloooo guys thank you for the ride" i say with a smile to cover up the fact that i'm dying at the sight of chris.

the car ride goes faster then expected, not much talking being done considering nick had his playlist on blast the whole ride.

nick saves me once again.

"okay me and matt will get the tickets you and chris get snacks" nick says to me.

i officially take back every good thing i've ever said about nick

"okay" i say, feeling the dryness in my throat

what the hell is wrong with me, i am too nervous around chris and i've never even felt this way before today??

what is happening.

"hey" chris says snapping me out of my trance

"hm?" i hum in response

"you're quiet, what's up?" he asks and i ponder as we wait in line.

"well, i- i don't know i've just been feeling different towards something" i try to explain and he nods in confusion

"okay.. care to explain a bit?" he pry's and i sigh

"chris i-" i start as i'm interrupted

"hello! what can i get for you two today" the concessions girl says

"a gun" i mumble and chris nudges me

"right! snacks... uh, i'll get a blue raspberry slushy" i say

"what did matt and nick want?" i ask chris and he orders for them

"then just a cherry slushy for me and that'll be all" he says smiling making my heart flutter

i reach into my purse searching for my wallet

"that's funny y/n" chris says making me look up

"what?" i ask

"you paying" he says, and i see that everythings already payed for as he pulls his card out of the machine

"chris-" i start but he interrupts

"shh, not a word" he says, putting his fingers over my lips to quiet me.

i cant help but feel my cheeks flush at the action though.

we walk back to the lobby, waiting for nick and matt

"so... what were you gonna say earlier?" he asks and i freeze

"uh, i kinda had to tell-" i start to speak but matt and nick come up to us handing us our tickets.

"i forgot! that's all" i say to chris with a smile

we walk to the movie theatre and take our seats, chris pulling our seat separator up.

"wha-" i say in confusion looking at chris and his open arms, like he's waiting for me to lay with him

i forgot this is something we do.

"cmon you don't wanna get cozy?" he says making me cringe

"ew." i say back knowing i don't mean it at all, just stalling from him being able to feel my heart racing.

the movie starts and i lay with chris feeling my clammy hands and shakey body distracting me

also chris's colonge, the sound of his heartbeat, his arm around my neck.

okay you get the point, i am going crazy.

"i-im gonna use the bathroom" i say, almost a mumble, frantically getting up and letting out a big breath of relief

i hear doors opening behind me and turn around seeing chris

it's too much- this is all just too overwhelming.

i feel tears brim at my eyes just getting worked up and just feeling overall upset

"chris no-" i say, his presence being too much

"y/n, you've been acting weird all day. i know something's up, you seem so nervous and i wanna help you but you have to tell me what's up." he talks and i snap

"i like you, okay!? and it kills me that i couldn’t do or say anything about it because i know you don't feel the same. the whole day i've been just going insane and i can't keep pretending i see you as my best friend"

i finally broke.

the tears start streaming down my face and chris looks at me in pure utter shock, making me feel worse.

"y/n-" he starts but i interrupt

"you don't have to say anything" i say and he sighs

"okay, then i'll do this." he says and cups my cheeks, kissing me passionately.

the world spins as i feel his soft lips on mine, a feeling i've been missing my whole life, one i won't ever forget.

he pulls away, smiling.

"chris-" this time he interrupts

"you don't have to say anything" he says, teasingly, as he kisses me again.

i think this whole thing has opened my eyes in a way they never would've originally been opened, seeing chris like this, it's something i needed, something i longed for and now i know that it's not just me.

chris can see me too.

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #fluff #sturniolo triplets #blurb #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo headcannons #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo imagine #nicolas sturniolo

[tulipsforvin]

helloooo! can i request headcanons for a scenario where in the past reader was heavily infatuated with william but after being constantly rejected by him they sorta just gave up. now, he’s chasing them (with slight yandere behaviour) instead and they’re just sorta nonchalant towards him. thank u!!

✧ ⚠️: william being a creepy little shit, stalking, manipulation, obsessive behaviour, pining.

╰┈⪼ ୨ HC's where he's obsessively pining for your affection after being the one who initially rejected you. ୧

✧ Four years — It had been exactly four years with you trying your hardest to gain even a fraction of William's love and affection. Yet, he'd always push you away with the words, “It's not safe for you to be with me.” or “I can't, I have to focus on my mission.”

✧ His rejections towards you were always vague; subtly pushing the blame to the life that he leads. He'd never tell you directly that he didn't like you back the same way or didn't share the same feelings that you did for him. That always left you thinking, “Does he not like me back?” & “Is he just not in a relationship with me because of his work?”

✧ Eventually, you got tired of this constant back and forth with him where the two of you would never reach a firm, assuring outcome and completely gave up.

✧ At the same time, William had decided to go forth with his suicide mission. And although even after you gave up trying to get into a romantic relationship with him, he was still someone you cared for. Thus, you tried to stop him but in the end, your efforts were in vain.

✧ Although the news declared that William was dead, they had still not found his body — therefore, there was a slim chance that he could be alive, somewhere in the world. And that guess, that belief in you was correct.

✧ After waking up from his comatose state in America, his mind immediately drifted back to remembering your face. Everything you did for him and said to him, it all came back in a flash, suddenly making his heart clench in regret. You were one of the few people that genuinely cared for him, and he felt a great loss towards how he treated you so indifferently.

✧ When he returns from America, the first thing he does is try and find your whereabouts — which he does easily due to his connections and intellect. Upon finding you, he immediately apologises to you for doing what he did and treating you how he treated you.

✧ You, someone who had given up in the two of you long ago, calmly tell him that it's okay and you forgive him.

✧ His expression is one of surprise and.. hurt? Sure, he's very grateful that that you forgave him but that face you had — uncaring and distant — it made a shudder go down his spine. It was so different from the one that he was used to seeing before his dissapearance.

✧ Over the next few days, he tries to hang on to you, following you around everywhere with the excuse of “I simply want to catch up with a friend that I care deeply for.”

✧ You were fine with these for a few weeks before things eventually started turning out more eerie. You always found that his eyes were on you — via the reflection of the spoon's handle as you ate your food, showing how William would be watching you from the dark hallways behind you.

✧ Along with the fact that he always knew where you were, dropping by in the most convenient of places whenever you required help or assistance, perhaps for something as mundane as picking up something too heavy for you to carry or because you were trying to save a dying animal on the side of the road.

✧ “You're not following me, are you?” “My, I would never even think of doing something such as that and stoop that low.” “Then why are you always there everytime I need you?” “A mere coincidence, love. Surely, you aren't angered that I assisted you in something you, quite desperately, may I add, needed help in?” “...I was trying to tie my shoe laces tightly, Liam.” “I think that is desperation enough.”

✧ William definitely gaslights and manipulates you, playing the victim card whenever you accuse him of stalking you. He's also begun to use teams of endearments even if the two of you aren't in a relationship.

✧ You ignore his ever-so-growing-by-the-second romantic advances towards you, making William even further obsessed and intrigued by you. Oh, how he's dying to have his hands on you. But that's something he can't do - no - he has to be gentle in his actions, cautious with his scheming, otherwise you'll just run away from him even further.

✧ William's begun to drop you flowers everyday, sometimes infront of your doorstep, sometimes infront of your workplace, anywhere he has easy access to and won't make you suspect him.

✧ Not that you care anyway, right? You think of his actions like how one would when being gifted something on your birthday, as if it was the norm, as if it was something that happened too many times for you to count, or care.

✧ He'll find this adorable as well, thinking of this as a game between the two of you, a switch in power. He wants you to cave in and he will die trying.

✧ “After all,” He thinks. “How long can this game of yours last — knowing I'm cornering you by the minute?”

taglist: @wearelordofcrime

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #william james moriarty #william james moriarty x reader #william james moriarty x y/n #william james moriarty x you #moriarty the patriot x you #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x you #serraaphim answers

[chimielie]

“I’m just saying,” you tell your roommate as she shoves her wallet into her purse while you scoop up two of her bags, “spending so much money here for gourmet groceries is...”

You trail off as you realize that she’s more preoccupied with spending an extra second staring at the cashier she’s been pining after (expensively, you might add, because she comes here every week just to stand in his line) than listening to your half-hearted lecture. You glance back at him with her, jolting when you notice someone crossing in front of you from the corner of your eye.

“Move, register's mine for the next hour.” You look involuntarily at the speaker, who taps your friend’s crush (Yahaba, his nametag reads) on the shoulder. It’s a crowded space, so you stare up at the replacement cashier from scarcely six inches away, absorbing his visage like several blows directly to the kidneys.

He’s thicker-set and shorter than Yahaba, hair shaved to his skull and dyed blond with the exception of two dark stripes at his temples. Two tiny metal spheres straddle his left eyebrow, featuring above lashes so long he might as well be wearing eyeliner (actually, he might be) over burning eyes you could spend hours admiring. And—be still your beating heart—the shaved head reveals thick black hoops hung in his ears, glinting merrily under the fluorescents. There are piercings studded into the cartilage above, too, matching his eyebrow jewelry. He turns a little, so you can see the nametag pinned to his tie-dyed shirt; it reads Tarō, in awful scrawled handwriting.

“You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my whole entire life,” you say loudly, not a single thought passing through your brain prior to or during the process of speaking.

He stops talking and stares at you. The sounds of the store, the squeaks of cart wheels and the music over the speakers, are suddenly headache inducing. Your friend slaps you lightly on the arm, a motion that you read immediately as you did not just say that, holy shit.

“Say thank you, Kyō,” Yahaba says jokingly, and she emits a noise too high-pitched to actually be laughter. Your face, meanwhile, is frozen. You think you might actually be deceased. This must be rigor mortis.

“Don't think I’ve ever been called beautiful before,” he says, squinting those gorgeous eyes like he's trying to decipher a dead language.

“I am so sorry,” you say, reaching out to haul your ass and your roommate’s out of here now. Your hand closes around nothing and you look around to find her engrossed in conversation with Yahaba, who is now apparently off the clock despite his replacement coworker wasting time looking at you like someone might look at a dead fish that had been thrown at them. “Um. I am so sorry. I didn’t intend to... harass you at work.”

He grunts in dismissal, flashing you a smirk that reveals fanged canines, and if you’ve had one thought that’s inappropriate in a public setting, you’ve had them all by now. “I have to deal with—” He tilts his head toward the growing line, cussing under his breath and rolling his eyes. “You have a good night, though."

Despite your miserable shame, you take comfort knowing that your friend finally had a real conversation with Yahaba, even getting his number while you suffered under his intense gaze. You can cope with embarrassment if it brings something good into the world.

The silver lining is gilded over when, at two minutes past ten, you get a text from an unknown number.

just closed. u doing anything now?

this is kentarō from the grocery. i got ur number from yahaba who got it from ur friend.

hope thats ok

You smile at your phone, envisioning the wrinkle between his brows as he typed the last message. You're gonna have to start budgeting for fancier groceries.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #kyotani x reader fluff #kyotani x reader #kyōtani x reader #kyotani kentaro x reader #kyōtani x reader fluff #kyōtani kentarō x reader #kyōtani kentarō x reader fluff #haikyuu fluff #shorts! #kyotani drabble #kyōtani x reader drabble #kyotani kentaro drabble #kyoutani x reader fluff #kyoutani x reader #kyoutani kentarou x reader #kyoutani drabble

[wordsinhaled]

a little snippet of a Merthur AU i'm working on - in which Arthur was sent by Uther to be raised in Ealdor unaware of his true identity and grew up alongside Merlin, always knowing about his magic. one day Arthur was told the truth and brought back to Camelot to take on his royal responsibilities, and Merlin followed. Merlin is assigned as Arthur's servant thanks to an extra helping of Uther's cruel sense of irony. things are Different Now and there are oodles of mutual pining. yay!

(can u tell i don't write longfic or proper summaries??? i have a vague outline and this snippet and not much else, lmao)

tagging @mayapleiades 'cause i know you've been jazzed about this one :D

-

“So what's it like, then?” Merlin asks. My lord sticks in his throat, still foreign to him after all this time, and soon enough the appropriate moment to tack it on passes. His question hangs heavy in the air, feeling wrong without the tinge of a deference that had never stood between him and Arthur before.

“What's what like?” Arthur asks, though he must know. They talk around each other, now; in riddles, in stunted queries and half-answers.

Merlin prods with a stick at the little campfire he'd conjured, inhales the scent of applewood smoke, relishes the burn in his lungs. He hadn't exactly expected it to be different, but the fact that Camelot's late autumn smells just the same as it had back in Ealdor makes things worse, somehow.

Arthur looks nearly the same to Merlin, too, with his windswept hair, cornsilk-fine and shining pale gold in the weak sun, and his cheeks bitten rosy by the cold. In their past life, he would have welcomed Merlin to lend him warmth by way of magic, easy as anything, but now he wears fine kidskin gloves, a fur-lined cloak dyed a deep red that stands out like a bloodstain against the dying underbrush. Grudgingly, Merlin must admit that Arthur's new finery suits him. Still, he hesitates to reconcile this Arthur with the one that can live on only in his memory.

"Being crown prince," he says. Goes on despite the shuttering of Arthur's gaze. "Your people adore you. You've everything you could desire." Don't you miss home? he wants to push. Merlin himself misses his mother, and Arthur's parents too, who still write to Merlin asking after the son who was always meant to be taken from them.

"Not everything," Arthur murmurs. It's the most candid Arthur has been with him in months. "Far from everything."

#bbc merlin #merthur

[crimsonsnippet]

TYSM FOR ANSWERING <3333 i love asking so i’m glad u like answering!!!

i love that misa keeps thinking light is harmless, he’s just a pathetic little meow meow of course he can’t be the second kira. when do you think she’d finally realise maybe he’s not so harmless after all? or would she not realise at all? would kira win in this au? or do you not know yet.

light would totally fuck with l by dressing more risque around him, especially since it makes a vein pop in soichiro’s neck every time too. it’d be a win-win.

it’d be so funny if light and hideki ryuga had a sordid love affair, especially if hideki ryuga is like desperately pining for light who is just like ‘i was into you for like a week last year, man, get OVER it.’ would l be jealous? probably not since he knows hideki ryuga is like so far below light it’s not even funny, but then again, if light did date him once…

that’s so cute for light and rem, and i love light and sayu being close that’s so sweet. even if it’s because of sachiko dying lol. speaking of, how did she die? were light and sachiko close before her death or not really? also, if light tells mikami he’s kira do you think he’d tell sayu too, or would he want to protect from all of that? in this au would sayu be a kira supporter? and would she be as upbeat as she is in canon or would she be more resentful like light? would she and light drift apart a little when he becomes the second kira? do you think he’d let her meet rem? probably not, but i’m wondering about how she and rem would get along.

YEAH OFCCC i sat on this one thinking of how to reply for a bit bc of the first question lol

and the answer to that one is- maybe you’ll see at some point!

YEA HE ABSOLUTELY WOULD i joked about the school uniform revolution thing but that’s exactly the type of shit he’d pull

this is so canon now hideki has like 12 alts and light keeps having to block him

the family dynamics for the yagamis were taken from the jdrama! i could explain the plot but they probably explain it far more coherently on the wiki :] i honestly dont know wether he’d tell sayu or not i think it depends on the circumstances and i haven’t really thought about specifics like that as of rn but i think it could go either way! sayu would probably like kira as he is with his less drastic actions because of the way the jdrama goes but she wouldn’t be a fanatic about it just vaguely pro kira i think. as for general attitude i think she’s a little more mature and maybe a little more subdued than in the series but she doesn’t have as much to be angry about as light does although she sympathises with him more than their dad. light essentially has to take on running the household as the older sibling when their mom died so he’s stand in parent running the house cooking doing most of the chores etc and then soichiro comes home and shakes his head when he acts out so light is pretty explosively upset while sayu probably just really doesn’t like the fighting and has grown used to helping her brother when she can.

#death note swap au #asks

[steddie-fanfic-recs]

honeyed affection

by cuips_not_cute

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Character: Dustin Henderson, Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley Additional Tags: oh god okay here we go, take 3 guys, Homoerotic Wound Care, Eddie lives (duh), Getting Together, Pining, First Kiss, First Time, Falling In Love, Virgin Eddie Munson, they're switches bitches, Top Eddie Munson, Bottom Steve Harrington, Top Steve Harrington, Bottom Eddie Munson, spitty kisses, since that's my thing now, Car Sex, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed, literally sleeping together, as well as the slutty kind of sleeping together, eddie "heart-eyes" munson, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, So is Steve, They're Dumb And In Love, Rimming, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Anal Sex, So much kissing, Making Out, pining then just porn, u know the drill by now, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Bottoming, Hickies, Grinding, Shotgunning, Inexperienced Eddie Munson, i read like 3 fics like that and got sucked in sue me, Sexual tension so thick you could cut it with a knife, Drunk Kissing, Spit Kink, gross misuse of the wall slam scene, Roleplay, does it count as roleplay if you are roleplaying yourself?, do u see what i'm getting at here, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Sickfic, Fix-It, the babygirlification of steve harrington, Drunk Sex, Sex Toys, Steve Harrington Has a Praise Kink

Words: 52,813 Chapters: 10/10

Summary

Eddie doesn't particularly like the smell of blood. However, he's growing awfully used to it. It’s what he’s choosing to focus on. The smell of it. How it burns his nose. Clings heavy in his throat and fills his lungs with its thick, metallic haze. That is, when he can breathe. It’s awful hard to breathe. But he’s trying. God fucking damn it, he’s trying. And it hurts worse than anything, worse than the bites or the torn flesh or the aching all over. It burns worse than the smell. He can’t tell if it’d be easier to breathe through his nose or his mouth, so he just sort of heaves with his mouth open and hopes that air gets in somehow. He might be dying. Steve says he’s not dying, very insistent on that, in fact, but Eddie’s not sure if he believes him.

#steddie #steddie fic rec #multi-chaptered #50-100k #getting together #pining #bed sharing #fluff #fix it

[tutchando74]

What are the fears of all your characters, including the ones from your original works

Split Drones

J: Becoming like N.

Eldritch: Death.

N: NX.

NX: Don't even know what that is.

V: Nothing really scares me.

Uzi: My life.

Doll: Не имея возможности что-либо сделать.

Lizzy: Being in danger alone.

Thad: Nothing.

Rebecca: Being away from N.

Nori: Hurting my daughter.Yeva: Теряю себя.

Khan: Alir izivcxlmrk mw yrhiv qc gsrxvsp, M lezi rsxlmrk xs jiev.

Tessa: This uneasy feeling I have.

Cyn: Nothing.

CYN?: Fear?

IT: 01000110 01100101 01100001 01110010 00111111

Headache

C.O.M: What is there to fear?

Humanity

Human: I lost all my fears in the crash.

Uzi: Losing N.

N: Losing my friends.

V: Nothing.

J: Losing Tessa.

Tessa: Don't remember anything.

H: Nothing.

I: IDK.

S: Living.

Domuz Eti: Someone as mighty as I am would never fear anything.

Cursed Ownership

N-0body: Nothing.

Uzi: My dad.

Doll: Khan.

Yeva: Khan.

Khan: Failing Nori.

Mechal: Failing the church.

D: Losing to those damn zombies.

C: We don't need to fear.

F: What's fear?

A: I can't fear anything, that's against the company.

Test Drones

N: The company.

U: M.

H: N.

Test 0: ...

Marks

N: My brother.

J: What the company plans.

V: Nothing.

Rescue Drones

N: Being useless.

θ: Places with too many people, they remember of... some times.

Ω: Urrgh (Touching)

Frainkebot

N-o: Everything about me.

An Error Ocurred to the Virus

Deleted: [Deleted]

Java: Speaking.

Error: Not doing anything.

String: Nothing that I can rememver.

Push: Losing them.

Code: Missdjuge someone.

Script: Looking too much to the abysm.

💣︎♓︎⬧︎⧫︎♋︎🙵♏︎: Staying here.

Human: Their little plan completing.

AU'sed

___: ...

Grafitti: Losing my brother.

Painter: Letting them suffer what I did.

After Dream

Dreamer: Myself.

Nightmare: Dream.

Blind Happines

Flowey: Those freaks.

Napstablook: What happened to my cousin.

Momma: Not receiving happines from our savior.

Shivers: Not receiving happines from our savior.

Leader: Not receiving happines from our savior.

Hot: Not receiving happines from our savior.

Protector: Not receiving happines from our savior.

Mind: Not receiving happines from our savior.

Messenger: Not receiving happines from our savior.

Seller: Not receiving happines from our savior.

Him: Not receiving happines from our savior.

Nature's tale

Shroom: I can't feel.

All Father: Nature dying.

All Mother: Nature dying.

Frisk: Death.

Chara: The monsters, the ones in the forest and the ones in my home.

Nature's Will: Mature dying.

Natural Frisk: Nature dying.

Tales from the war

Determined: They.

Patiencent: Time.

Brave: I can't fear anything.

Integrated: Not seeing the full picture.

Persevere: Giving up.

Kind: Not helping those poor souls.

Just: Being wrong on my judgement.

Asgore: Failing everyone.

Toriel: Being unable to protect my kingdom.

Gerson: Not doing my job.

Gaster: The humans power.

They: *Inaudible*

Reality Falls

Pines: What is beyond.

Star: Losing my brother.

The Amazing Fate of Gumball

Fateless Cat: I lost all my fears when I lost my fate.

Monkey wars

Primary: The militars.

Militar: Losing power.

Magic: Losing the forest.

Support: The other 3 groups.

Inicio

YHWA: ...

Devil: I fear myself and YHWA.

Miguel: Nothing.

Gabriel: Nothing scares me as I tell everything.

Uriel: Nothing.

Samuel: YHWA's granted me the miracle of leading his army, I shall not fear even the Devil itself.

Rafael: I fear my fear of YHWA getting hurt, since that's a lack of belief on my part.

Jofiel: I shall not fear, since that's what the Devil created.

Zadkiel: My lack of respect in my deepest thoughts.

Avarice: Emptiness

Gluttony: Nothing to eat.

Envy: I envy fear, since everyone has it, but everyone has me too.

Anger: AAAAAAAAARGRHRAAAAAAAA *In whispers*

Lust: Ooooh, I LOVE fear!

Laziness: ...

Pride: I don't feel fear.

Adam: Not being me.

Eve: The end.

Lilith: Telling stories.

Death: Nothing.

Judgement: Hospitality's lack of judgement.

Hospitality: Judgement being wrong.

History Teller: Your twisted minds hehehe.

Loop

Blue: Something I don't know.

Red: Purple fiding a way to end me.

Purple: Losing to Red.

White: ...

Master: It.

Layers of Hopelesness

Medic: This world. This dammed world.

Brzilian legends

Enzo: Bandeirantes.

Gabriel: Mapinguari.

Maria: Boto Cor de Rosa.

Meaning

I: What is fear if not something our mind makes us feel in preparation for something. Or is it?

Cicle of the Broken

Bovic: Craoline, she's unpredictable.

Craoline: Bovic, he's too smart.

Angelic Blood

Blood angel: God.

Kindergaten Nightmares

Cloudy: Losing money.

Dirty: Adults.

Sunny: Cold.

Flowy: If my meds end.

Watery: What they do.

Kid: Getting caught by them.

My myself:

Me: Losing myself in this madness.

Why?

Me: My lack of purpose. Why do I care. People have their purpose. Why do I care, My lack of purpose.

Narrated

Narrator: It.

Character: Continuing in this narrative.

Devilish journey

Devil: Humans and their little shit thoughts.

#murder drones #murder drones au #undertale #undertale au #tawog #tawog au #gravity falls #gravity falls au #original writing #original character #Original Work #original story #btd 6 au #btd6 #btd au #btd #btd 6

[yuukei-yikes]

OKAY YOU'VE UNLEASHED THE BEAST. so like we all know the post str harutaka dynamic is all lovey dovey etc because FINALLY! WE ARE TOGETHER!!!!!!! sort of thing well kanoshin is literally the opposite. in my fucked up head post str kanoshin dynamic at the time this would occur is shintaro after breaking up w/ ayano and ALSO takane is trying to distance themself from him so he's basically like a sopping wet cat in cardboard box on kano's doorstep that kano has also been pining for secretly and unwillingly for like 2 years. so to me kanoshin is basically shintaro: heem heem whimper (super vulnerable doesnt even care if it's gay at this point or if he has feelings for kano he just needs to be held he can think abt all of that later) kano: okayyyy whatever ^w^ (what the hell is going on what i am doing why is shintaro in my arms where am i) and that repeats 100 times in post shinaya breakup divorce. mix in shintaro's horrible capacity for affection since he doesnt think he wants to be hated but also wants to be loved but he should be hated blah blah blahand with kano it's like he validates both of that, that makes zero sense when i type it out but trust me it makes sense in my head. so ignoring canon i think takane and kano r definitely besties bc they r basically the Same Guy????? which like u said it's even acknowledged IN kano's novel where he's like "yep she's twisted JUST like me" also fun fact the same ost that plays over the kano and seto scene where he opens up abt everything in mca ALSO plays over the scene where takane and ayano discuss takane's feelings abt haruka im SOOOOO normal abt that fact. in my mind they r talking or smthn and shintaro gets brought up and kano somehow lets it slip with a "soooo did shintaro ever also kiss you or something haha :3c" and takane's like "what" and that's how takane found out. and i think takane would have REALLY mixed feelings abt that especially bc like "uhhh how would ayano feel?" but when he goes to talk to shintaro abt it a bit more (codependency in the mix bc in her mind it's like well surely shintaro will tell me soon anyway bc he tells me everything bc he needs to tell me. normal things to think) he looks at them like he just shit himself. i kind of forget where i was going with this. but if they EVER did go on a double date it would be so awkward bc harutaka r Normal and kanoshin is Very Much Not Normal. but because takane and haruka are the only ones who know abt kano and shintaro's weird not relationship and shintaro and kano cant stand being alone together for a long amount of time bc it forces them to confront their feelings but also want to be together it's the perfect solution. this kind of goes hand in hand with shintaro's heavy reliance on takane, it's like codependency......2!!!!!! but kano is Also there. SORRY THIS SOUNDS INSANE AND IS SOOOOO LONG IM SORRY im normal

OK im putting answer under the cut only cuz the ask is already long and its so scrolling it on my blog isnt a nightmare for myself 💗 it largely turned into me talking abt takane like always sooo teehee

NO UR NOT INSANE U ARE SO NORMAL!!!!!!! this is EXACTLY IT. shintaro&kano insanity in between shinaya breakup/takane distancing itself from shintaro ahaihvsuxhemxksjxlwkdowkdw (EXPLOSION)

also the ost thing!!! i had to go check and i got so excited stupid like YESS YESSSSS ILOVE THAT KINDA SHIT not to sidetrack on takane/harutaka but that would've been so so so good if the anime hadn't fucked up and made takane all happy when running before dying. like takane was so terrified of being in love with haruka she wasn't like omg teeheee im gonna confess my feelings💗 she was like (RUNNING) THIS SUCKS SO BADDDDDDD AUGGHHHHHH like she DID have an epiphany. but it wasn't like... HAPPY. takane was so terrified!!!! sorry. IM NOT GONNA SIDETRACK TO HARUTAKA IM NOT but str takane finally managing to confess to haruka i think its rly funny if then haruka's of course like I LOVE U TOO are we dating then :3 and takane's like WHAT!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!! WHAT!!! and haruka's like WELL U LIKE ME? AND I LIKE U? SO WE SHOULD DATE??? and takane's like I NEVER THOUGHT OF IT THAT FAR AHEAD I JUST WANTED TO TELL YOU GIVE ME A SECOND TO PROCESS like this bitch never once stops to worry if haruka likes her back or not, if it'd be awkward if he didnt and how it'd be like to date if he did, NOTHING. granted that she dies immediately after realising so maybe she just didnt get to that point LMAO but i love this about takane's character like she just doesnt fucking think about it they just WANT TO TELL HIM!!! and then up to str she never imagines seeing haruka again and now he's here and she's too happy and relieved to even go back to this realisation and give time to worry about WHAT IT REALLY MEANS to confess her feelings. theyre just like i need to tell him he needs to know.and haruka's like I Love You Too. takane acting like he's insane for that. haruka rly has to give takane like 10 or 20 minutes of freakout for them to be like omg💗

i said i wouldnt sidetrack to harutaka then did . whatever. This is who i am. erm. oh yeah the ost. SO kano finally managing to let one of his siblings comfort him is obviously scary to him, takane's reaction at ayano's words abt how shintaro needs someone selfish to pull him forward and how she has to be honest to haruka is also scary to her. So having that ost in both these scenes....SO GOOD!!!

i WOULDN'T GO AS FAR AS TO SAY kano and takane are the same guy but i know what u mean. like i said in ur other ask man their PARALLELS... both are playing a role.. (holds head)

theyre not the same guy but theyre heavily like. people with the same ideas but different goals idk. to me its more like... sorry for ripping on takane so much but she is so damn stupid. like emotionally. takane is DUMB takane is SO DAMN OBLIVIOUS ALL THE TIME. While kano is very smart and i think he acts in a very calculated way, kano isn't oblivious at all

i'm pretty sure ALL the kano&takane interactions are from kano's point of view, and maybe the fact they're so similar is why kano is always so mean spirited to her in his pov. like he sees too much of him in them so he's like lol FUCK YOU. like kano always acts so annoyed towards takane. i hate how in the fifth novel takane getting its body back is so brushed off and kano doesnt even help her, and then he's like augh i dont wanna see her right now. like u just traumadumped that bitch to hell and then not only do you not help her get her body back but u also act all weird about having to see her. jail for kano for 1000 years.

But like to me he acts that way... takane IS the first person kano ever opens up to precisely bc he sees himself in her, and like him she is secretly someone else. kano resents takane because she's a lot like him BUT.... BETTER.

kano acts kind of like a brat to takane yet says he doesnt want her to dislike him and SAYS that he is jealous of takane.

this line MEANS SO MUCH TO ME *GOES INSANE*

i think kano is rly jealous of takane bc she's a lot like him yet she's a good person. and he doesn't think he is a good person. and on top of it takane's the one who stays by shintaro's side who kano cant stand so he resents her x2. im not a fan of what mca did in ep 7 with kano&ene but for kano to go as far as do that to someone who never did Anything to him just bc he's pissed to another guy. like man kano is such a fucking jerk to takane in all routes and it's never treated as heavy as it is. tortures her with turning into haruka and takes his frustration out on her abt people moving on (which his siblings&shintaro do yet he chooses TAKANE to take it out on who is in an even worse position than everyone else bc shes dead like girl whats it supposed to do SHES JUST TRYING TO LIVE THEIR LIFE OR WHATEVER IS LEFT OF IT AND AT LEAST HELP SOMEONE SHE LOVES MOVE ON TOO) and also traumadumps them and then leaves her to her own devices to get her body back. like fuck that. kano sucks so bad and takane always forgives him so easily. this is partly cuz again the narrative sorta brushes it off coughs coughs the narrative doesnt take takane seriously cough cough but TO ME!! TAKANE'S JUST A GOOD GUY💗 i think takane forgiving him so easily also pisses off kano bc it shows how good takane is and it drives him crazy. takane when 2 guys (kano and shintaro) are absolutely fucking horrible to her and she's like its ok we are best friends👍 again i think takane's just not taken seriously enough and its like yeah takane forgives everyone or doesnt care because we dont need her angry abt it in the story. but to me theyre just so niceys.

god i havent even talked abt kanoshin yet sorry for my takane brainworms you dont understand she is everything to ME!!! TAKANE ENOMOTOOOO‼️‼️‼️ in my defense u said most of the kanoshin stuff which i 100% agree with.

what i didnt even think abt is kano kind of telling takane thru wondering if shintaro ever felt that way abt her bc theyre so similar so kano's like well. if he likes me maybe he liked takane. HEHE GOOD ONE. good one..... augh takane having the warmth of ayano and the mischief of kano. listen to me. im rly so crazy about takane i think all the characters inside of kagepro should be crazy abt her too. sorry i started abt takane again. whatever. takane💗

i also think theyd be the first to find out (and seto but he is not a danger) mostly bc. GOSSIP GRAVITATES TOWARDS HER finds out by chance rather than kano telling her but i DO LOVE THAT CONCEPT OF KANO WONDERING IF SHINTARO EVER LIKED TAKANE kano's first lethal mistake is asking HER though. i think he would rather ask shintaro but FOR THE SAKE OF THE SCENARIO, SURE

ok but thats rly funny haruka and takane being the only ones to know and shintaro and kano not wanting to be alone and forcing them to be there😭 also how would haruka know... I LOVE haruka being up to date with mekakushi dan gossip literally just because he's dating gossip central takane but he just doesnt do anything with the info cuz hes like well i know that now. i think takane just starts talking and goes on and on and haruka's drawing and gasping and being like omg wow really. theyre so silly. i have a hc that during hs takane looks out their classroom window that happens to face a Popular Confession Place and she sits there to watch like its tv. shes like look haruka another one. this one's also getting rejected. haruka's like Takane is so easily entertained💗

but yeah. i think that's how haruka would know. personally i think kano&shintaro would rather be alone bc theyre both terrified of this relationship and wouldnt want anyone to know PLUS i already like takane as relationship mediator to shinaya so doing it to her twice in a row seems just cruel Like at this point takane is living their best domestic harutaka cat parent life ok. like leave it tf alone!! give them a break!! however it is extremely comical. most painful awkward time ever with kanoshin & harutaka

so ill accept it. like its fucking funny. erm. sorry this is all over the place.

#ask tag #headcanons #takane enomoto #kagenalysis

[txxfiles]

give me all the fics where the boys kiss

Hi! It looks like I'm week 3!

I honestly have no idea idea what im doing really but i guess you'll just have to listen to me ramble about something i enjoy. Seems to fit the theme we've accidentally settled on and well! if theres one thing im good at rambling about its bl fanfiction. i read ALOT of fanfiction. like 13million words worth of it in 2023 alone (an estimate but i did the ugly math for jan and feb last year and id already read 2.7 million words so i dont think its too high an estimate).

ive read fics from too many fandoms to count and also have way more hyperfixations then any one person has a right too but the one that has owned my ass consistently for the last 4 years is The Untamed otherwise know as Mo Dao Zu Shi (MDZS).

The lovely Eucalyptus from week 2 was watching the untamed during covid (and holy shit what a wild ride that was) and the next thing I know im neck deep drowning in fan art and tiktok edits of beautiful chinese men that have no business being as talented as they are (Im looking at u Wang Yibo) This. shit. fucked. up. my. life.

then i turned to my good friend AO3 (love of my life i could not exist without you) and 4 years later ive read my tags dry. if its complete, ive read it. im getting desperate and ive started reading works in progress, yikes. its so risky i honestly cannot tell you how much anxiety it gives me. ive been burnt too many times.

HOWEVER

this does mean if you need a fic recommendation then your girl has got you covered, so i figured i would share with you my TOP SIX fic recommendations. im sorry i tried to make it 5 but i just couldnt do it.

I will be chasing a starlight by feyburner & sundiscus 

Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji - 71,479 words - Complete

Omg. Wangxian Startrek AU. The pining, the miscommunication. I felt every range of emotion on this roller-coaster. I literally printed this out so that I could keep it forever. I wish I could read it for the first time all over again. This Fic hit AO3 like a comet. It even has it’s own Tumblr thread! Also comes with stunning fanart.

Paint smears on sunny days by SnowshadowAO3 

Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji - 53,808 words - Complete

Modern Day AU, Musician/Single dad Lan Wangji falls in love with his son’s Art Teacher Wei Wuxian. I swear it's one of the cutest stories ever written, makes me feel all the good things. A-yuan is adorable and wangxian are hot and charming. The Ultimate wangxian comfort fic. 

Rotten Work by ShanaStoryteller 

Jin Rulan & Wei Wuxian - 63,907 words - Complete

Jin Ling fishes his Da-Ju out of the gutter post canon (Literally dying alone in a dirty inn, Wei Wuxian it's been 5 minutes pls) and decides if no one else is gonna keep him then he damn well will. 

It is perfect.  

Junior Quartet goodness, Yunmeng bro reconciliation and Jin Ling being a boss bitch little shit that has no time for anyone's bullshit. I cried as much as Jin Ling did in this story – which is alot. (Also another story ive made myself a solid copy of that i can love forever)

Joy In The Mindst of These Things by Glitterbombshell 

Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji - 52,901 words - 5 Works

TEACHER WEI WUXIAN! I love this trope with my whole soul. Lots of adorable baby Lans, I would kill for them. Beautifully written. Lan Qiren gets a much needed wakeup call. Last story is incomplete but can be read without the 5th installment. SO WORTH IT, ive read it like 10 times

The One-Body Problem by mitisket 

Lan Jingyi & Wei Wuxian - 28,689 words - Complete

Well shit. How many times have a reread this story? I honestly couldn't tell you. Jingyi gets possessed by Wei Wuxian’s very tired soul pre canon and it changes nothing and yet everything. Their friendship gives me life and Jingyi fixes a lot of problems for his new bestie/mentor/uncle with his big mouth. Mom I love him 

The Edge of Night by Hobbsy3 

Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji - 277,225 words - Complete

The best Zombie Apocalypse au on the MDZS tag honestly. There are so many good zombie film references in this one, i see you Train to Busan. Baby junior quartet, a perfect Wei Wuxian modern day depiction and so much love, angst and stress. It's delicious and I've never recovered.  

All of these fics are actually part of a mother document i made last week of all my favourite fics organised by tag because apparently thats what i do with my free time. hit me up if you need a rec!

Now that ive gotten that off my chest i'll let you be lol. maybe I'll do a rec for a different fandom next time. I definitely have enough to choose from!

Lots of Love,

Iris

#blog post #fic rec #mdzs #rant post #2024 #Iris

[divinesouldariax]

"I'm tired of thinking, let's just make out or something" with Ashton/Milo bc I know we're both dying to get them to kiss

Send me prompts?

Thank u my friend, u know EXACTLY what i want :D Even if this fic kinda drove me nuts bc i am simply not very practiced with writing kisses. Also the prompt list was hurt/comfort and this turned out to be literally Just Fluff lmao. I promise to make up for that by being extra angsty in the other prompt u sent me. I hope u enjoy it! <3

Word count: 1,111

Content warnings: brief mentions of injuries/brain trauma and memory issues and struggling with school, brief discussion about boundaries and touch-averseness, kissing

*

It was a point of pride to Milo that when Ashton had decided to start taking classes again after the accident had forced them to stop a few years ago, they were the only person he would go to for help on their schoolwork. Ashton knew he would never have to explain or justify their memory problems or difficulty grasping new concepts to Milo, and Milo knew never to press Ashton when he said that he was done working. 

Milo wasn't the greatest teacher in the world, which they reminded Ashton of often, and Ashton always responded with something along the lines of "And I'm not the greatest fucking student, so it's a perfect arrangement." It seemed to work, anyway. Ashton was passing their classes, and Milo was honestly just happy to be spending time with him.

Today, they were sitting on the couch together talking about how to approach making a notes page for Ashton to use on tests reminding him which calculator functions to use for which stats problems. Ashton seemed distracted. They weren't closing their eyes or touching his temples like he did when a migraine was coming on, though, so Milo didn't ask if they wanted to stop.

After a little while, Ashton cleared his throat. "I'm tired of thinking," he announced abruptly. "Let's just make out or something."

Milo stared. Blinked a few times. Wondered if there was any possible way they had heard Ashton correctly. "...are you aware that you just said that out loud?" they asked genuinely.

Ashton was looking off into the distance over Milo's shoulder. "Mm-hmm. Fuck, I'm gonna fucking kill Anni if she was lying."

If she--ohhh, not if I kill her first. "Did Anni fucking tell you I was--" Milo could already feel their face heating up.

"Might have said something."

Milo groaned and dropped their calculator and notebook and pencil off the side of the couch to bury their face in their hands.

"We don't have to--I made this really weird, huh? Fuck. We can--rewind, say I had a little fuckin' brain moment and just move on with our lives," Ashton babbled. "I didn't really mean to say it like that, that was fucking out of nowhere. I hate--fucking talking. God damn it."

"No, it's fine!" Milo wasn't sure if it was actually fine, but they knew they didn't want Ashton to feel shitty about it. "I'm a little confused?! I think? Was that a...do you want to...or did Anni just tell you that I…"

"Actually what she told me was that if I didn't do something to show you how I feel sometime in the next week, she was gonna plug in her amp in the hallway by my door and play me an electric violin solo at five in the morning every day for a month because she's apparently tired of living in a house where everyone's pining," Ashton recounted. "Pretty much word for word. I actually remember the phrasing, it was that vivid."

Startled, Milo laughed. They would get back to the "show you how I feel" thing in a minute, but they needed to process how ridiculous this was first. "So you decided to suggest making out with absolutely no warning?!"

"I swear to fucking god, that was at least partially impulsive brain fuckery," Ashton said, half laughing and half defensively.

"I believe you. Holy shit," Milo exclaimed. "That's one way to do it. God. Okay. First of all, and we'll be circling back to feelings, don't worry, but Ashton, I have never heard you say that you want to make out with anyone. You hate being touched."

"That's not...necessarily true?"

Milo raised their eyebrows. "Ash, you once hissed at me when I tried to rub your back when you got sick after drinking too much on a new med."

"I don't remember that," Ashton admitted. "But--no, I mean, yeah, it tracks. I definitely hate being touched when I feel fucking awful. And by people I don't know. But not all the time by everybody."

"That's--how have I lived with you for three years without knowing that?" Milo said, bewildered. "I really thought you just hated being touched in general this whole time."

"To be fair, I never corrected you."

"Yeah! But I never asked. Anyway, I'm getting distracted." Milo knew that their cheeks were probably flushed quite a dark pink by now. "I gotta get something clear. You like me?" Fuckety fuck, they sounded like a fucking middle schooler. 

"Yeah, I didn't actually think I was being subtle about it? Anni sure seemed to think it was stupid that we hadn't figured it out yet."

"Am I just an entire dumbass then?" Milo couldn't help but laugh. Their heart was beating so quickly, but the absurdity of it all was keeping them from turning into a total flustered mess. It was a little bit perfect.

Ashton shrugged, a little too casually. “If you are, then I am. So, uh, Anni wasn’t lying, then? You’re into me, too?”

“Oh, I was, uh, not prepared for this conversation at three in the afternoon completely sober without a head’s up,” Milo stated. 

“You good? Like I said, we can forget this–”

“Absolutely fucking not.” Milo wanted to just surge forward and kiss him, but several years of friendship where their habit had been to avoid touching Ashton whenever possible so they didn’t make him uncomfortable was hard to overcome. “Yes. Yes, I’m…yes. This is ridiculous. Do you actually want to make out?”

“I mean, I definitely don’t want to be doing stats anymore,” Ashton said with a wry little grin.

“...was that a yes–”

“Yes, oh my god.”

“I feel like it’s something to be very, very sure of before starting!” Milo defended themself, feeling like Ashton was teasing them at least a little bit. “I don’t want to hurt you accidentally.”

“Which is why I’m very sure that it’s gonna be fine.” Ashton put out their hand. “C’mon, apparently we’ve been wasting time.”

God, it was that kind of confidence, even with the initial uncertainty, that made Milo find Ashton so incredibly attractive. They let Ashton take their hand and pull them close, almost into his lap. Before they could even really conceive of the fact that oh, fuck, Ashton really is letting me touch him, they were kissing. Ashton’s initial comment about not wanting to be thinking anymore was onto something, because every rational thought in Milo’s head began vanishing.

We’re definitely gonna have to have a conversation about this later, Milo thought faintly, but for now, they would just focus on Ashton’s hands against their waist and his lips on theirs.

Send me prompts?

#ashton greymoore #milo krook #ashton greymoore x milo krook #my writing

[itsthemysterykids]

The Mystery Kids switch cliques!

Coraline- Geek

Locker full of comics

Prefers to go by Cora

Tells people she’s a water bender

Always going to ComicCon

Cosplays whenever she can

“I’m not a nerd, I’m a geek! Learn the difference!”

Marvel and DC shirts

On good terms with Mabel, Neil, and Raz, seeing as they’re the ‘Loner Squad’

HATES BeBe ever since he trashed her fingerless gloves on a school morning announcement segment

Stan Lee and Chadwick Boseman shrine in her bedroom. Mourns them every Saturday morning

Dyed Mabel’s hair and paints Raz’s nails whenever he asks

Wybie- Prep

Goes by BeBe. No one knows his real name

Sarcastic

Mean, but he has a heart… It’s somewhere

Head anchor on the school’s morning announcements and has a segment where he roasts students’ fashion choices

Selfie. King.

Best friends with Lili

2 cool 4 u

Slaying in heels

Fashion icon

Desperately wants to give Mabel a makeover

Only knows Cora because her parents are renting one of his grandma’s apartments

Norman- Jock

Norman Babcock, captain of three teams. His mom is LOADED. She’s a divorce lawyer

Captain of the football, basketball, and baseball team

LOUD

Himbo

Willing to take on any dare

Count on him to bring the whole school to a party when you only invited like a few dozen

Carries Lili and BeBe on his shoulders during game days to build up his strength

Makes sure to give BeBe his letterman jacket during football games since he gets cold the easiest

Doesn’t seem like it, but he’s the mom friend of the popular kids

Neil- Nerd

Always gets Straight A’s

Hates tutoring since he lacks the patience

Has had his lunch try smacked away by Norman countless times

On good terms with Mabel since they’re always paired up for writing assignments

May or may not be coming up with revenge plots to use against the popular kids

Will give you the answers to a test… Only to snitch on you later

Has all his school textbooks on his tablet

Not sure how he got swept up in his friend group, but isn’t complaining

Carries a thermos full of coffee

Dipper- Skater

Goes by D-Fresh

90s kid at heart

One of the Popular Kids

Pretty good at rapping

Has a YouTube channel where he just posts his best moment on the halfpipe

Skates through the school halls

No one knows Mabel is his sister and he doesn’t bother bringing it up

One of the very few people allowed to take a selfie with BeBe and Lili

Always creating new slang everyone starts using

Mabel- Emo

Prefers to hang back while her brother soaks up the attention

Always seen in black or dark red

Reluctantly hangs out with Coraline because of Raz, but grows to like her when she walked into school wearing a Corpse Bride shirt

Liberated the live frogs that were going to be dissected

Feels a pang in her heart whenever Dipper ignores her at school

Neil is her life preserver in this hell hole they call school

Secretly wants to set Lili and BeBe on fire

Loves Monster x Human romance novels and wishes one would wisk her away

Secretly wishes she had Carrie’s powers

Raz- Goth

“I’m not a damn Emo! Mabel is!”

Became friends with Coraline when she helped fix his nail polish and sort of brought her into his group

Pretty good friends with Mabel despite their rival cliques

Owns a few spell books

Anarchist

Had a crush on Lili… What was he thinking?

Likes to crash the popular kids parties and play a bunch of death metal over the speakers

Helped Coraline throw an ‘Uncool Party’ for the social rejects at school

May or not be staging a revolution against the popular kids

Secret love for theater

Reads Stephen King novels with Mabel

Lili- Cheerleader

Captain of the squad

BSFFs (Best Shopping Friends Forever) with BeBe

Girl definitely owns a pony

Has that ‘Perfect Princess’ vibe going on

Runs the yearbook

Has over 10K followers

Everyone would kill for her to sign their yearbooks

Has every guy pining after her

Has spots in the yearbook reserved for her friends

Makes sure to tussle Norman’s hair for good luck before every game

“As your school president, I vow to get rid of exams, cafeteria food, nerds in ugly clothing.”

#coraline #mystery kids #paranorman #gravity falls #psychonauts #the mystery kids #ask stuff #answered ask

[monsterrae1]

Do u think KR will make buck and lucy sleep together in finale when he’s single and wants to have fun. I worry because he said to her he was glad she was not with bobby so he cares and maybe she almost dies in finale and he realizes he loves her ?

I’m really curious how you got from point A to point B?

I never get questions like this, so I’m going to try and answer in a polite way, I don’t want to invalidate your feelings at all; but here’s how I personally see the Buck-Lucy situation.

No I don’t think that they’re gonna sleep together at the finale or that anything is actually happening between them in the future. I also don’t think he’s gonna wanna have fun (like buck 1.0 style) once he’s single, Oliver himself said it in an interview, Buck is going to do some serious thinking about what he wants in a partner, that doesn’t tell us he’s gonna sleep around again, more like he’s gonna get more serious about the future he wants and who he wants it with, his most “functional” relationship is crumbling and he knows he isn’t happy there, so I do think they’re gonna have him do a bit of soul searching before they throw him in another relationship (counting Eddie maybe, I’m ready for some pining in S6)

On May Day, I could swear I hear him say “I’m glad you were with him” in the sense that she was able to call for help fast and Bobby wasn’t left alone to his own devices and probably dying, I saw more of a “thank you for getting us to him(Bobby)” kinda thing and not like a “I’m glad you’re safe because I care about you in a Romantic level”, I’m sure he was glad she was okay because he’s a decent human being and cares about the well being of his coworkers, but in that moment he was more worried about Bobby and his safety, he has a one track mind about Bobby and how he had a close call, so yeah, he wasn’t thinking about Lucy personally, he was just thanking her for being there to make the call to the others to save Bobby and May.

I can assure you he 100% does not love her, (well I don’t write for the show so I can’t assure you, but the way I see it) I don’t get why people are so worried about Lucy, she literally is just there, they’ve shared a few scenes but that’s it, literally after the drunk kiss there has been 0 sexual or romantic chemistry between them, I wouldn’t worry about the writers suddenly writing Buck into being in love with her or anything like that at all.

#answered #anon #this is just my thoughts on this whole thing if you can have a respectful conversation you’re welcome #otherwise dni