#really feeling that one quote in the club

[inmyheaddd]

only fair now that nash has his own childhood friends to lovers to complete the series!!! so i’m requesting a nash childhood friends to lovers hcs hehe. they’re so so cute to read, i love every single one of them 🥹💘

nash hawthorne childhood friends to lovers

thankyou sm for the requestttt, sorry it took so long 😭 the lack of nash in the books is such a crime, he’s so underrated

wc:4k

you and nash met at a horse riding club, when you were 11 and he was 13 years old. 

since you two were practically the only children in the private establishment, you two were often in each other's presence.

you made eye contact a few times but never spoke to each other. you thought he was pretty cute. 

“hey mom, do you know who that guy was?” you asked your mom once when you were leaving the place. 

“oh yeah, that’s skye’s son, nash. i’m friends with his mom, why?” 

“nothing” you say with a small smile as you continue to walk. 

“are you sure it’s nothing?“ she asks as she looks at you with a laugh.

“yes, mom,” you reply as you start giggling slightly. you start to approach the car door, and your mom opens the door for you. 

“i was your age once too, you know,” she laughs, and jokingly roll your eyes before joining in.

the next lesson you had, with some encouragement from your mom, you decided to speak to him after the lesson ended. he was standing in the reception, seemingly waiting for someone to pick him up, as were you. 

“hi.” you smile at him when he turns to look at you, and he returns it back.

“hey, i know you; i've seen you ‘round here”

“yeah, we’re like the only two kids in the building,” you reply with a small laugh.

“you’re right on that,"  he says with a small chuckle, and then you ask another question.

“are you waiting on your parents?”

“my moms pretty busy, so someone comes and picks me up.” he says, sounding slightly less confident as he did before.

“oh, lucky!” you respond, oblivious as to why a driver picks him up instead of his own mother . “my mom just talks and talks the whole way through the car ride—also, did you know my mom and your mom are friends? ” 

he raises an eyebrow at your last statement. “really, how’s that?” 

“i don’t know, my mom just told me.”

“you were talkin’ ‘bout me?” he says, a grin starting to appear on his face.

you nervously chuckle and continue “um, i just asked my mom who you were, ‘cause like, she kinda knows everyone.” 

“did you get your answer?” he says, and you realize he has a texan accent. 

“i think so; you’re nash, right?”

“yep. and you’re y/n, right?” he uses the same intonation as you, and raises his eyebrows with a smile as he tilts his head slightly.

“yeah! how’d you know?” you say with a large smile on your face.

“i know things,” he replies, and you thought you were hallucinating when he winked at you. 

he tore his attention away from you to the door, noticing someone who looks like you walking through the door.

“‘s that your mom?” he says with a chin nod, and you turn to follow his gaze.

“oh,” you say, slightly disappointed that your conversation would have to come to an end.  “yeah, it is.”

you turn back to him, and he speaks again.

“you ready for the talking?” he questions, quoting you from earlier. 

you let out a chuckle through your nose, “yeah, i’ve gotten used to it.” you two make eye contact for a few seconds with no words and decide to speak again “i guess i have to go, my moms waiting.” 

“i guess you do” 

“do you have a habit of repeating everything i say?” you say with an inquisitive look on your face and a smile. 

he runs his hand over his mouth in an attempt to hide his own smile, and shrugs 

“maybe,” he says with that damn smile that makes you feel like there’s a whole zoo in your stomach.

he looks behind you once again and sees your mom waiting for you, looking slightly bored.

“it looks like your mom is still waiting.” you turn to look at your mom, then back to him. “i’ll see ya later then?” he continues.

“bye, i’ll see you later” you repeat his words and deepen your voice in an attempt to mock him, to which he laughs at, before you turn around and walk to your mom, who immediately pulled you into a hug and walked with you with her arm around your shoulder. 

before the automatic door opened, you turned to wave at nash, he reciprocated it with another chin nod and a raise of his hand. however, when looking at you and your mom, he had a new, unrecognizable look on his face. ‘he’s probably bored because now he’ll have to wait alone’ 11 year old you thought. 

you two got so much closer over the span of a few weeks, and soon enough, you were going over to each others houses all the time.

you noticed that he spent a lot of time with his brothers, and he was a great role model. you didn’t really learn the reason why until years later, but you still found it so admirable.

you two would do everything together, sometimes you’d simply go over to each other's houses to do nothing together.

nash quit horse riding lessons when he was around 15, and instead decided to use some of the money that he practically never touches towards buying two horses and building a shed. he named one of them after you by anagramming your full name, but never told you. 

the next time you came over, he was extremely smiley, which was definitely different from his usual persona. 

“okay, what’s up with you? you’ve been smiling all day,” you say, bringing up the question that has been clouding your mind since the second you stepped in his room. 

“nothin’, just grateful to be alive. what, a man can’t smile?”

“you’re barely 16, what “man” are you talking about?” you say with a laugh, and he can’t help but chuckle. 

“alright, let me show you something,” he says as he stands up from the couch you were both sitting on and offers you his hand. 

“okay,” you make that sound more like a question as you his hand and follow him out of the room. 

“where are we going?” you ask as you two step out the back doors and are now outside in the backyard. 

“what’s with all the questions today?” he stops in his tracks and turns to face you, looking down at you with a grin on his face, slightly squinting as the sun was directly above you two. “it’s like we have the riddler over here,” he says with a deep chuckle. 

“you can’t blame a girl for being curious,” you retort, squinting as you lift your hand and use it as a makeshift visor from the sun.

“but you can blame a man for smilin’?”. 

“yep, you’re actually spot on.” 

he fake-sighs and looks away from you, then looks back at you, a smile involuntarily finding his face. “whatever the lady says,” he says as he grins down at you.

“you’re learning!” 

“yes, i am. let’s continue now, yeah? i’m sweatin’ out here” he says as he reaches his hand out to you. then you put your hand down from your face and connect it with his.

when he showed you the horses, you literally stopped in your tracks and gasped, instinctively walking over to them and petting them. when you realise what you’re doing, you remove your hand and turn back to nash. “oh my god, i can’t believe it- i-when did you do this?”

he chuckles with his hands in his pockets, leaning back slightly on his heels, “i’ve been planning it for a while,” 

“oh my god, and they’re yours? like completely? oh my- can i?” you ask to pet the horses, practically stumbling over your words because of how shocked you are.

“you don’t have to ask, i got ‘em for us,” he says, quieter than his usual tone, as a sense of familiarity and warmth spread through him. he forgot how much he loved seeing you with animals.

“no you didn’t,” you gasp as you whip your head around and turn to face him completely, “oh my god, nash,” you turn and look at the horses again, “what are their names?” you ask whilst petting them.

he tells you the names, and one of them piques your interest. “wait, can you repeat that last one again?” you ask as you turn around with your eyebrows furrowed in question. he smiles, confirming your suspicions as he repeats it. 

“there’s no way you anagramed my name to name a horse,” you chuckle and he walks towards you. 

he’s standing right infront of you, and you realise he’s basically towering over you. “when did he get so tall?” “has he always been this tall, or am i just realising this? - and when did he start looking like that” 

you’re quickly brought out of your thoughts when he responds. “hey, i couldn’t not name my favorite animal after my favorite girl,” he says, grinning down at you. 

you slightly giggle and briefly look to the side before pulling him into a hug. you were on your tiptoes, but he crouched down to meet your height so you wouldn’t have to. 

“seriously though, i love you so much nash, you’re the best friend in the world.” you mumble into his shoulder as he rubs your back up and down. 

friend. he felt a pit in his stomach. why did that word suddenly have a sting to it? “i love you, more than you know.”

as time went on, you were practically a member of the family and would participate in the saturday morning games. you noticed nash would often figure it out before his brothers did, but let them take the win. 

“why do you do that? let them win? you’re insanely smart, but you never show it.”

he takes a deep bath before answering your question. “they’re just kids, they desperately want to please the old man because, well.” he trails off, not really wanting to bring up his mom, more so, her absence. he continues “i just want them to be happy, they deserve it.” you look at him with love written all over your eyes, it’s like everyday he unknowingly pushes the agenda that he’s the best person ever. “yeah, i get that.” he meets your eyes and for a few seconds it genuinely feels like time stopped. 

your moment was suddenly interrupted by xander running through the room, “nash! guess what!” and he starts telling nash about his win. nash looks back at you, his face saying “you see what i mean?” you give him a knowing smile and he turns back to xander.

“no way kid, how’d you figure it out?” 

xander rambles on about the riddles, the clues, and the game in general, and you watch their conversation, wondering how you got so lucky to know these one-of-a kind people. how you got so lucky to know nash. 

that wasn’t the only time one of nash’s brothers would barge into his room. it was actually quite a common occurrence. 

one time you were hanging out in his room, just sitting on his bed and talking, when all three of his brothers barged in the room, jameson in front, grayson not far behind him, and xander behind grayson laughing his head off whilst running.

“woah woah woah,” nash repeated as he stood up from the bed, “what’s going on here?” he stood infront of you, making sure jameson wouldn’t barge into you as he steadied him by grabbing onto his shoulders.

“tell jameson to give my usb stick back.” grayson says as he tries to tackle jameson, however, his attempts were quickly stopped by nash. “listen here, if you two want to fight, go fight. but not here, not when y/n’s over? alright?”

“sorry” they both grumble under their breath.

“is y/n your special friend?” little xander asks, seemingly having recovered from his fit of laughter. he was honestly just here for the fun of it.

“yes actually, she’s a very special lady, which is why i’m telling your brothers off for acting like that infront of her.” 

“oh i’m very special?” you ask sarcastically 

“yes ma’am” he turns to look at you and for a brief second, he forgets his brothers were in the room for a second.

he turns back when he hears grayson trying to pry the usb out of jamesons hands and jamesons' yells.

you were honestly glad, because you were 110% sure your face was about as red as a tomato at this point. he had a way with words, that’s for sure.

“jamie, give your brother his usb stick back, grayson, go away and keep the fighting to a minimum, xander, you continue whatever you were doin’, and all of you, out of my room.” 

he leads them all out, while xander was laughing again, jameson and grayson both had their heads down but you could see jameson still smiling, and you heard a snicker coming from him when nash closed the door behind them. 

he closed his eyes and sighed for a second after he shut the door, and when he opened them you both started laughing.

“they can be such little critters sometimes, huh?” he says followed by a chuckle.

“i love them; it’s like constant entertainment. plus i can just talk to them when i get bored of you,” you say jokingly with a laugh.

“oh yeah? you bored of me now?” he jokes back

“hmmm,” you pretend to think, tapping your chin, “a little bit, but i’ll deal with it.”

“you’ll deal with it?” he asked, his eyebrows raised in amusement, along with a playful smile on his face. “how so?” he says as he walks towards you, and you’re still sitting on the bed.

“i guess i’ll just bring the energy out of you. i’m just special like that,” you say with a smile, recalling him calling you “special”

“i guess you are.” 

the moment was becoming too “more than friends"-ish for you to handle, especially with him looking at you like that, so you decided to go back to familiar ground and bring back the light jokes.

“how do you still manage to repeat me when i’m repeating you?” you laugh and shake your head.

he shakes his head back and joins in on the laughter, finally sitting next to you after standing right infront of you.

the rest of the night went as it usually would with you two. but when you were in your own room, staring at the wall unable to sleep, you were cursing yourself for going another day not talking about your feelings, more specifically how you felt for nash. little did you know he was doing the same exact thing.

around your senior year, he decided that being just friends with you was genuinely going to be the cause of his death.

mentally, and also physically.

his brothers non stop teasing about you which always sometimes ended up in fights was starting to get on his nerves. 

prom was coming up, and he knew from the books you read, the movies you watched, and just you in general that you felt like it was a big deal.

you ‘dragged’ him along to dress shopping, even though inside he was jumping up and down because he loved anything to do with you.

“okay listen, you know my size, and the colours i like are…?” 

“light pink, baby blue, pastel yellow, orange, and light green as a last resort—those words are practically engraved in my brain darlin’”

“okay, great.” you say, beaming at him. you’re not sure if it’s because of the fact that he remembers everything you tell him, or the name he called you. “i’m going to go try on these, and you send me photos of any you find you think i might like, okay?”

“yes ma’am, on it.” 

he was looking around the store, 3 dresses in hand, knowing the employees were talking about him.

“do you see those eyes?”

“wait- hawthorne? as in tobias hawthorne?”

“that’s the oldest one, nash” 

“i don’t know who i want to be more; y/n or him” 

“she’s so pretty, they fit each other.”

he heard in hushed whispers, and hearing the last two made him smile, just as he saw a dress that was so you. 

everything about it screamed you in every way, and he loved it.

he spoke to one of the assistants and got one in your size, he couldn’t wait to show you this one; he was afraid a photo wouldn’t do it justice. 

“hey darl, i saw this dress that i think you’d love. when you’re done you can come out and see it,” he said after knocking on the door of your changing room.

“oh i’m basically done, just putting on my shirt!” you say slightly muffled, and a few seconds later you open the door, “hi” you breathe out. 

“hey there,” he grins at you.

you smile back at him, and then ask “do you have the dress?” 

“right here,”

he turns and walks a few steps, taking the dress of the hanger and showing it to you, he begins to speak but you tune it all out because the dress is literally everything you wanted and more, “oh my god,” you say with your mouth agape. 

this earns a low chuckle out of him. “you alright there?” 

“i just, i love the dress so much, i can’t believe i didn’t find it myself, how the hell did you even notice it?” you finally tear your eyes away from the dress and meet his, adding a laugh to the end of your sentence. 

“i just know my girl like that,” he says, genuinely smiling at you, and you were 99.9% sure your knees were going to buckle right there and you would fall at his feet. luckily, some of your strength remained, and you met his eyes for 2 seconds, only deepening the red colour in your face.

“i’m uh, i’m gonna go try on the dress.” you say, pointing back to the changing room with your thumb.

“alright, take your time.” when did his accent get so hot?

you close the door, lock it, and lean on it for a few seconds, recalling what the hell just happened, “my girl”???? 

“what the fuck” you mutter under your breath, but you can’t help the smile that finds your face when you think of the moment, in fact, you’re basically always smiling whenever you think or talk about nash. your mom never fails to mention it.

you try on the dress, and you think it’s practically made for you. you felt perfect. how was nash so right with his choices? to say you were obsessed with the dress was an understatement. 

after snapping a few pictures for your friends and mom, you call out to nash. “i’m coming out now.” before opening the door and stepping out.

“what do you think?” you say as you do a 360.

‘speechless’ wasn’t a word used to describe nash hawthorne, ever. but right now, he fit the dictionary definition. 

he was thinking ‘i can’t wait until one day, it’s our wedding she’s shopping for’

he quickly cleared his throat and replied once he realized he left you hanging. “you look gorgeous, you are gorgeous. buy that dress, i’m begging you.” 

his words make you nervously laugh, “yeah, i love it so much. i think i will. thankyou for finding it.”

“no need to thank me darlin’, it’s all you.” which earned another nervous laugh out of you. he has to know what he’s doing. “i’m gonna go change now, and then we can leave.”

after you finish changing, you go to pay for the dress. when you reach the desk, the lady informs you that the dress has already been paid for. 

you go back to nash who was waiting for you in the sitting area, his eyes lighting up when he meets yours.

“nash? did you pay for my dress?” 

he just smiles in return, telling you everything you need to know.

“how did you even pay for it? you didn’t even have the dress with you.”

he stands up and walks next to you, taking the packaged dress from your hands and saying “don’t worry 'bout it’. lets go now?” before leading you two out the door.

a few days later, you realized you didn’t officially have a prom date. what you didn’t know was that nash was planning a whole thing to ask you out, with flowers, a picnic, jewelry, and little things he knows you love. it was the day he was going to ask you, and the second you walked into the house you said this:

“hey nash, um, this is kind of random but would you be my date to prom? i don’t have one yet and i-“ you immediately stop when you notice his face slightly fall.

“it would be friendly, o-ofcourse and it doesn’t mean anything.” you attempt to salvage yourself by rambling on and on.

“nash?” 

he starts to smile and then decides to speak. “it’s real funny you ask me that, ya know?” 

“why’s that?” you say with a smile matching his.

“c’mere” he says before taking your hand and leading you somewhere again.

what is it with this man and taking your hand?? 

when you reach the picnic he set out for you, which looks straight out of a romance movie or a valentine’s day advert, he starts to speak again. “i was going to ask you here, but now i don’t have to do that and we can just eat, right?” he jokes, to which you laugh and respond, “so that means you’ll go with me?” 

“ofcourse i’ll go with you. hell, i’d do anything you want. i’d go anywhere, if it was you askin’. i love you, not in the way that you already know i do. not in a friendly way. i love you in a way that takes over my mind and makes you all i can think about 24/7.” his tone is suddenly much more serious, not a hint of the joking that was once present. he scans your face, noticing your blush and the smile starting to appear on your face. he continues. “what im tryin’ to say is, since the second i saw you in those horse riding lessons, i knew you were going to be someone special in my life. the second i saw how good you were with my brothers, with animals, with people in general, i knew i loved you. and the second i realized your cheeks would turn a shade of red, like they are now, after id call you a name, i knew i was in love with you.” 

now it was your turn to be speechless, the only thing you could muster up was whispering his name before pulling him into a kiss. 

he craned his neck down to meet your height, then you jumped and wrapped your legs around his torso. when you pulled back, you all but squealed and started peppering his face with kisses, repeating “i love you” with each one. 

he started laughing, and “moving his face away from you” but not really, he loved it. 

“alright alright, hold your horses.” he laughed before placing you on your feet again.

you tried to hold back your laugh when you realized there were kiss marks from your remaining lipgloss all over his face.

“what are you laughing at huh?” he says through a smile as he looks at you and starts laughing, simply because you are. 

“nothing! just happy.” you reply.

“and why’s that?” he asks again, still smiling at you. 

“well, this really cute guy with a funny accent just told me he’s loved me for like ages, and i’ve basically had a crush on him since we first met. isn’t that great!” you beam up at him, and he starts laughing again.

“i don’t know about that, the guy sounds like bad news. you should stay away.” he jokes back. 

“but he’s so cute, you should see him.” you continue, not being able to hold back your laughs.

“yeah?” 

“yeah, he’s the best.”

his grin widens before pulling you into another kiss. this time when it ends, you sat down to eat the food he prepared. you two watched the sunset together, and when it was night, you ended up falling asleep on each other while watching the stars.

you were woken up by his brothers standing over you two, laughing at the kiss marks still on nash's face, and the position you two were in. nash excused himself and had a ‘talk’ with them inside, and came back to you out of breath and sweaty, looking slightly pissed off. (it was hot though)

all of the hawthorne friends to lovers officially doneee, lmk if you enjoyeddd and leave reqs!! tags: @kikiyapps @lanterns-and-daydreams

#nash hawthorne x reader #nash hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #the final gambit #the grandest game #the hawthorne legacy #the inheritance games #tig

[angelic-ships]

#really feeling that one quote in the club #the one thats like 'anon is for nice messages and social anxiety not bullying' #[from the desk of jens with love 🖋💖] #literally I get SO SCARED and for what lmao

[steelycunt]

system where when i talk to men i start a countdown from ten million and stop at the point they ask me ‘what’s your ethnicity??’ and that’s the amount of money they have to pay me

#to be clear im not claiming there’s something inherently wrong about ever asking anyone that question in any situation. what i am saying is #that considering how often i am asked it by men and only men usually within very little time of meeting me #it has never not made me feel weird or uncomfortable. because it is only ever men who consistently and immediately ask me this question. #and i know why they’re asking. thinking of this one time at the club where this blokes female friend introduced us at his request and after #exchanging names his very first question was and i quote ‘what are you mixed with’. like im sorry am i mad here or is that a really #fucking weird thing to do. like why do they consistently ask that in the first conversation you have with them #it always gives the impression they haven’t really been listening to anything you’ve said they’ve just been waiting to ask that question. #lol. anyway boy i met today lasted a few hours and seemed nice and then he simply had to know because he was ‘so curious’ 👍🏽 #(ridi's) bigmouth strikes again

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Fandom things I'm looking forward to:

Kingdom Hearts IV and Missing Link

Final Fantasy VII Rebirth

Final Fantasy IX Remake

Final Fantasy Tactics Remaster or Remake (whichever it is. I've heard both things)

The fourth Madoka Magica movie, whenever that comes out (seriously. Where is it? First it was announced as the Concept movie. Then it was re-announced years later with a new name, and it's still missing)

The Percy Jackson TV show

The Infernal Devices TV show

Maybe the Twilight TV show. Maybe.

The animated Smallville continuation that Tom Welling and Michael Rosenbaum are working on, whenever it comes out

I was going to put Baron and Toluca on this list (that's, like, a spiritual successor to the OG "Roswell" TV show. Majandra Delfino who played Maria in the show wrote the script, and she and Brendan Fehr who played Michael star in it. They're also planning for more Roswell cameos in later episodes), but it came out and I didn't even know it? But I have no idea how to watch it, though, as I guess it only came out in theaters in Albuquerque. Here's hoping it comes out on DVD or something...

The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes

The alleged Firefly reboot

The new Daredevil show

The Batman Part II

The next part in Tom Holland's Spider-Man movies

The DCU, starting with Superman Legacy in 2025

The Five Nights at Freddy's movie and Help Wanted 2

The Iron Lung movie

The TV show that it sounds like Markiplier will be working on after he's done with the Iron Lung movie

The next Bendy and the Ink Machine thing being worked on

MAYBE the Hello Neighbor sequel. I know. I KNOW! (It's really only because the second game had to end on a cliffhanger.)

Five Nights at Candy's 4

Frozen III

Disney's "Wish"

The next and final season of the Clear Card arc of Cardcaptor Sakura

The new Avatar series (the one about the third Avatar in the cycle: the Earth bender)

The live-action Avatar: The Last Airbender series, perhaps

The Chosen season 4

#As for things that haven't been announced #Ffxvi when that of course happens #The ffx remake if that rumor is true #I'm still hoping we'll get one more season of full metal panic to finish off the show. Please don't end things on a cliffhanger! #And no matter what I'll forever and always be pulling for a twewy3. Please give it to us Square. Pretty Please? With sugar on top? #I also still (mostly? Kind of?) wish we had a new Buffy show to look forward to. but alas. maybe someday #also after khiv nomura's all but confirmed that next is a verum Rex. And I'm. Like. Already pre-excited for that if that makes sense. Lol #And I don't know how to feel about the new death note movie adaptation I want to have faith in the Russo brothers but mostly I'm afraid #And I just- I LOVE death note. You all KNOW I love death note. But I just don't know what can be done with the story that hasn't already #been done #Unless you just completely change it and then piss off all of us fans. Again #I said it once and I'll say it again: i wish they were making a code grass movie instead (which has the beats they're looking to adapt in #death note. but other stuff too. and has never gotten a live-action adaptation so at least if nothing else it would be original) #there's also a part of me that wants to get caught up on winx club and see if this new season (that's maybe a soft reboot? but don't quote #me on that) will be better than some of the last ones and start getting the series in the direction in needs to be going again. hopefully #and isn't there some new pokémon season coming out where brock and misty reunite with ash (i read an article about it) which confuses me #because i thought the show ended? #unless the article was just talking about an english dub of the season that already aired in japan or something like that #i also should really get caught up on all of the sailor moon crystal stuff. shame on me for not being so! #somewhat. kind of. the next garten of banban game. God help me #kindergarten 3 if there ever is one #slayers: a buffyverse story would have been on here if they hadn't announced it after i made this list and if i'd remembered to come back #and add it. but i listened to it and loved it:)

[strangersteddierthings]

Beg You to Love Me

"I'm surprised you even remembered, Harrington," Eddie shrugs, hoping he comes off as aloof as he wants to, instead of shaky and unsure like he feels. He was sitting atop the picnic table, arms behind him trying to look as unaffected by Steve's presence as he can, but he's been thrown for a loop ever since Steve emerged from the woods instead of Robin Buckley, like he was expecting.

"Of course, I remember. I- I've never forgotten," Steve whispers, head down and fists clenched at his sides. He looks more like a child being wrongfully scolded than a man defending himself.

The words pull a scoff from Eddie, though. Never forgotten? What the fuck ever. "Right. Something to hold over me, then, if I'd stepped too far out of line? Mutually assured destruction?"

Steve's head snaps up and he looks horrified, which Eddie will admit to almost believing. Steve doesn't seem like the type to join the drama club but his acting's pretty fucking good. "What? No! I would have never- I would never have said anything about us to anyone."

"Right. Sure. Of course. Your own reputation to think about there."

Something like hurt flashes across Steve's face before it frosts over. This is the face he's used to see on Steve. Cold and distant. "I- whatever, man. I don't even know why I thought..." but Steve doesn't finish his sentence. He just shakes his head and turns his back on Eddie, heading back the way he came.

He doesn't know why that sparks a rage from deep within him. "Yeah, that's right. Tuck tail and runaway again!"

"I ran away?" Steve shouts back, turning sharply on his heel to glare at Eddie. "You think that I ran away?"

Eddie just spreads his hands to the empty clearing as if to say 'look at all this room around me you've never occupied'. "You weren't here, were you?"

"Because you told me to not be!" Steve stomps back to Eddie but stops a couple yards away.

"Like fuck I did," Eddie argues back, because he didn't tell Steve to go away. He'd told him-

"'If this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door.' That's what you told me," Steve quotes, "I thought it was pretty fucking clear what you wanted."

"Yeah, I fucking thought it was clear what I wanted," Eddie snarls, lunging from the picnic table, closing those last few feet to get into Steve's face. "Yet here we are!"

"Don't act like this is my fucking fault. Like you weren't the one who forced it to be my fault. My decision-"

"Yeah, it had to be your damn decision! You were dragging it out-"

"-because you were too much of a coward to do it your-fucking-self-"

"-acting like you were. Acting too good to actually slum it with the trailer trash-"

"-so of course I made the choice that was best for me. Because I deserved more-"

"-like what I had to offer you would never be good enough for the goddman King-"

"-than just being your hookup when I wanted to be-"

"-like I wasn't good enough to be your friend, much less-"

"-your fucking boyfriend!"

"-your fucking boyfriend!"

The contrast of this sudden silence that falls following their screaming match that ends with identical sentiments is jarring. Eddie feels wrong-footed and lost. Confusion and hurt mixing in him that he can see reflected on Steve's face.

"What?" Steve is the first to break the silence, drawing into himself. Arms crossing to hold himself at the elbows as he takes several steps back, as if to be able to see all of Eddie will clear the confusion he's feeling.

Eddie just stares back, slack jawed for a moment. That's. What. No, wait. Really, what? "What what?"

"You- you said 'if this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door'. How was I- I thought you- you were breaking up with me!" Steve cries, "you. You said that to make me pick, because you knew I wanted more and you didn't. That's- you were breaking up with me!"

Eddie's in just as much disbelief. "No, you broke up with me! I said if this isn't good enough but, like, I meant if I wasn't good enough. And you left! You walked out because I wasn't good enough to be with you!"

Steve looks stricken and he claws harder at himself, sort of folds into himself like he's going to be sick. "No. No no no, that's- then that means I- it's all been my fault. No no no no."

Eddie stares wide-eyed and frozen as Steve talks to himself. Eddie kind of feels nauseous. There's no way that this is possible. That these last two and a half years of heartbreak have been because of miscommunication. That they both thought the other was breaking up with them and neither actually wanted to.

"Why didn't you- Why didn't you say something?" Eddie asks.

Steve laughs at that, sounding a bit hysteric. "Me!? Why didn't you! I wasn't- I wasn't going to beg you to love me like I had with my parents. You were the one who told me I shouldn't have to do that!"

Yeah. He had. When Steve had broken down and cried on his bed, in his arms, wondering what it was he had done to lose his parents' love. Eddie told him it wasn't his fault, never would be, and that he would never need to beg for love from someone who does love him. It was the same advice Wayne had given him when he'd taken Eddie in.

"I already thought you were wanting to break up. You were being so distant, I thought..."

Steve sucks in a deep breath and nods, "Yeah. Yeah I was. I was scared of scaring you away. Of being too much. Because I- what I felt for you was a lot. I was afraid I'd chase you away if I continued to be so clingy. I pulled back, to reign it in but. Fuck. Fuck!"

Eddie drops to a squat. His legs feel like jelly and he can't keep standing. He squats and looks down so his hair becomes a curtain separating him from the reality of the situation, if only for a moment. Fuck is right.

He's spent his junior and first senior year being pissed at Steve. Hurt by him and what he thought happened. And it's- if Steve's being honest, it's all been for nothing. If they both wanted a deeper relationship, they could have had it. They might still be boyfriends if Eddie hadn't been so wrapped up in his Munson Doctrine. He'd been convincing himself Steve was embarrassed of him, and was working on breaking off their- whatever they were. But he hadn't been.

He's thought such terrible things about Steve over the years. God, what has Steve thought of him over the years? No. He doesn't want to know, actually. That's not what he cares about right now.

He lifts his head to see that Steve's plopped himself onto the ground, sitting cross legged, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.

"Steve. Steve!" He calls Steve's name out until he looks up, looks at him, "why'd you come out here?"

He laughs again, slightly less hysterically, and he's shaking his head like he can't believe what he's about to say. "I. Fuck, I was coming out here to beg you to love me."

"No you fucking weren't!" his tone is filled with disbelief.

"I was," Steve repeats, sounding amused and heartbroken at the same time. "I really, really was. Graduation's coming and I know you want to get out of Hawkins the second that happens and I'm. I was running out of time trying to get you to notice me again, so I was going to beg."

Notice him again? As if Steve doesn't haunt his every waking thought. As if he doesn't dream of Steve every night while his eyes seek him across the halls and in their few shared classes like he's the goddamn night sky and Eddie is a sailor lost at sea needing the north star to guide him home. Eddie's never not noticed him, and he thinks he has to come out here and beg? "When someone loves you, you don't have to beg."

"Yeah, I know," Steve sighs, defeated, which lets Eddie know that Steve does not, in fact, know. He looks away from Eddie, down to his lap.

Fuck, it's like every fantasy Eddie's had of them making up and then making out has been handed to him on a silver platter and he's blowing it. His words are too vague, too easily misinterpreted. Again. He falls forward on to his knees, hands catching him so he's on all fours like an animal. "Steve. I mean it. You don't have to beg."

"I get it, Eddie," Steve huffs, not looking at him. Not actually understanding.

Eddie starts to crawl the distance between them. Steve looks up then, probably to see what the fuck Eddie was doing with the shuffling sounds and the chain on his belt clacking. Eddie watches Steve's eyes go wide, mouth dropping open to a small 'o'. "See, the thing is, Steve," Eddie says, pulling himself up to be just on his knees to shuffle the last few inches closer. Steve leans back to keep his eyes on Eddie's face, which opens his lap up. "You said you know, but I don't think you do." Eddie brings his hands to rest on Steve's shoulders and Steve lets him. "You don't have to beg." He uses his hold on Steve's shoulders to balance himself as he swings a leg wide, to straddle Steve, then shifts his weight to repeat the process with his other leg before settling himself into Steve's lap. Steve's hands land on his hips and Eddie isn't sure if it's intentional or a reaction to Eddie plopping himself in his laps but he's going to believe it's the first one. "You've never had to beg with me."

Steve sucks in a sharp breath and then he collapses into Eddie. Steve's hands on his hips slide up and pull him into a hug, as close to Steve's body as he can get, while Steve shoves his head under Eddie's chin, into the junction of his neck and shoulder and breaths him in like it's the last breath Steve will ever take. "We're so stupid."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees, as he lifts one hand to hold the back of Steve's head while the other drops to rub soothingly at his back. "Yeah, we are."

They sit in the dirt, the closest they've been since that summer between '81 and '82. They should probably talk about. They're going to have to, if they want this to work. Full sentences with no hidden meanings, even though the thought of that kind of vulnerability makes Eddie skittish. It's going to be difficult, but it'll be worth it. Steve has always been worth it.

Eddie wants to say 'I love you', just to get it out, in the open, and not just implied, but there's a different first step to take. One that's actually a little easier. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Me too," Steve whispers, "I'm sorry. I should have-"

"Shut up," Eddie cuts him off, voice quiet and soft as he can be. "This is, and I cannot stress it enough, a we situation."

The huff of laughter on his skin from Steve feels like the start of something. A new beginning, a start over. A re-do.

A goddamn miracle.

Later, they'll drag themselves apart and up. Make it to the back of Eddie's van in the school parking lot to talk. Going to either's house feel too much, too soon. Their big fight happened at Eddie's home, and Steve's house isn't warm enough for the kind of comfort they want to share.

They'll have a talk. Filled with long pauses, stumbling over words and fears and insecurities because this is the hard part of a relationship. Getting it all out in the open so they can learn if they'll even work. The fear that they aren't going to be compatible anymore looms but doesn't deter. They both want a second chance, to give it a real shot, by the end of that first talk. But taking it slow.

They'll discuss what went wrong the first time (diving in without talking about anything certainly played a big part) and how to avoid that.

But that's later. Right now, Eddie just holds Steve, and Steve holds him back, and it certainly feels like the beginning of something good.

-

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems

#steddie #my fic #this is just Miscommunication The Fic #hurt/comfort #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckleys the mvp for setting up the meeting by lying to eddie #shes going to demand a thank you gift for giving them the time to talk #and eddie WILL send her a whole fruit basket

[writingwithfolklore]

Punctuation Rules

Punctuation is like the very last thing I actively think about when writing something (what's the point of fixing the punctuation of a sentence you'll end up taking out or editing anyway?) but it is still an important step!

Having proper punctuation increases your credibility and the overall quality of your work. Also, it’s doubly important in professional work, emails, and resumes. With that, let’s get into it!

Commas

We use them all the time. We get them wrong all the time. There are six rules for where you can use commas:

Use to separate items in a list or series:

The book was long, tedious, and painful.

The comma after tedious is called the Oxford’s comma. Feel free to debate if you need it in the reblogs, but you won’t get in trouble professionally if you use it or leave it out (in most cases.) It always comes before ‘and’ in a list to prevent confusion of the items:

I ran into my mother, my best friend and a scientist. (1 person?)

Is very different from

I ran into my mother, my best friend, and a scientist. (3 people)

2. Use to separate independent clauses, with a coordinating conjunction.

An independent clause is just a sentence that makes sense on its own.

A coordinating conjunction is: and, but, or so.

Miley had a ton of work to do, so she set her alarm early.

3. Use after an introductory statement.

Introductory statements begin with many different words, but typically: Before, after, when, while, as soon as, etc.

Before her first class, Stacy looked up her prof on Rate Your Teacher.

Main point about this, “Before her first class” is not an independent clause, it needs a second part.

4. Use to surround info in a sentence

This info is not essential to the sense-making of the sentence, but it should be relevant.

Parents, no matter how skilled, cannot function at 100% all the time.

5. Addresses and Dates

6. And with direct quotes

Important for essay writing.

Casey said, “I hate this house!”

Colons:

Introduce a list after a complete sentence:

I have three favourite foods: spaghetti, chowder, and garlic bread.

2. Use after ‘the following’ or ‘as follows’

Please provide the following information: your date of birth, full name, and address.

3. Don't use with sentence fragments

A sentence fragment is an unfinished sentence (that doesn’t make sense on its own).

My favourite foods are: spaghetti, chowder, and garlic bread.

This is wrong because, “My favourite foods are.” Isn’t an independent clause.

4. Introduce an explanation

My parents ask one thing of me: that I try my hardest.

5. Introduce a quotation

Mom always quoted the bible: “The truth will set you free.”

6. And times (12:00)

Semi-Colon:

Not super common, but makes you look good if you can use it properly.

Separate two related independent clauses

I never drink Starbucks; it tastes burnt.

2. Similar, but with conjunctions: however, moreover, therefore, nevertheless, etc.

I don’t like Starbucks; however, it does the job.

Agatha didn’t witness anything; nevertheless, she was called in to court.

3. Use to avoid misreading in a series

The invited guests are the club leader; the treasurer; the new member, Jason Tanner; and Wanda Johnson, the investor.

Semicolons clarify the separation between the four people. Had it been, “The club leader, the treasurer, The new member, Jason Tanner…” it would seem that the new member and Jason Tanner are two different people.

Apostrophes – Possessive

‘s shows possession of a singular noun

The girl’s parents were quite rich.

2. S’ shows possession of a plural noun

The students’ books were all over the place. (there are multiple students who have books)

3. ‘s to singular words ending in s, and nouns that are plural

My boss’s office My children’s toys

Apostrophes – Contractions

Use to combine two words (they are, he is, there is, etc.)

It is -> It’s a beautiful park They are -> They’re really good friends You are -> you’re good at this and so on.

#writing #creative writing #writers #screenwriting #writing community #writing inspiration #books #film #filmmaking #writing advice #punctuation #punctuation rules #rules of punctuation

[floydira]

₊˚﹒✶﹒trolls headcanons .ᐟ

brozone, creek & king trollex with a reader going through a breakdown, overthinking and panicking and how they deal with them.

note ; I somehow(?) accidentally deleted the person's ask for this. I don't remember exactly what they asked word for word. (I'm down on my knees apologizing to you rn, I'm so sorry anon 🙏) so hopefully based on my memory this is at least close to what you asked for. I also hope this headcanon is to your liking.

☆★﹒🎧 ﹐BROZONE

John Dory

erm. well. let's just say when it comes to dealing with other people's emotions, he's not really the best guy to depend on...

BUT considering he spent years by himself (and rhonda) with no other socialization, plus leaving his brothers behind and coming back to them after awhile out of conscious but seeing them nowhere to be found, he definitely felt lonely and HAD his own breakdowns before.

so he'd understand how you're feeling, or at least try to understand.

when he first saw you breaking down, his first instinct was to ask you questions "why are you breaking down?" "did something happen?"

if he doesn't get a reply from you, he'll respect your boundaries and not ask any further questions. he'll just focus on comforting you in the present, awkwardly patting your back and giving you words of affirmation that he thinks would work. like those motivational phrases or quotes online, maybe even those ones that facebook moms use.

if you do give a reply, he'll sit down next to you and hear you out. sipping a drink and lending his ears for you to vent. he'll keep quiet (internally, he's restraining himself from outing his own opinions on whatever you vented to him about).

In summary, he's a listener. If you let him voice his own opinions, he'll tell you his thoughts and views. more often than not, if he does give advice, it's probably best you don't actually follow them. I feel like he's bad at giving advice...

at least, he's got the spirit!

Spruce/Bruce

this troll has a wife and kids. I'm sure he's knowledgeable in comforting someone when they are breaking down or overthinks a lot.

if you're overthinking, he'll support you and keep you company but he's also honest that helps you actually evaluate your overthinking thoughts and not stress too much about them.

once you come to him looking vulnerable, he'll immediately try to soothe you by rubbing your back gently. yk like those back rubs that puts babies to sleep? yeah, he'll do that.

while he rubs your back, he urges you to take a deep breath and let it all out. so you do. unknowingly you ranted and ranted, every little detail spoken word to word. he just has that affect on people.

lets you know that what you're going through is valid.

once you're all done, he'll give you advice to ease you or if you're not looking for advice, he'll just comfort you until you feel better.

Clay

he literally is in a sad book club, he'll have the knowledge about it and how to deal with it. except...he's slightly bad at executing it.

he'll snap you out of overthinking by yelling positive stuff to you, that are actually...effective???

if you rant to him, he'll listen to you attentively and pat your head afterwards. it's just something natural that he does, honestly head pats are soothing ok.

if you're okay with physical touch, he'll caress your face while giving you actually reassuring words. (LIKE. have you SEEN him literally pinching and squishing branch's face when he first met him after 20 years?!) of course, it's effective, combined with his already nice vibe (I feel like he naturally has a healing presence, he's just a sweet little boring cutie)

his method of comforting you naturally makes you feel better. he doesn't have to try hard because just watching his body language and mannerisms are dorky enough that it'll make you smile. he's unknowingly comforting in a silly dorky way. even with how badly he persists to be a very "serious" guy.

he'll definitely give you a big warm hug after everything.

Floyd

he's literally called the sensitive one. out of the brothers, he's definitely the one who understands you the most.

I don't think I even need to explain, you already know how perfect he is with dealing with stuff like that. like the time he talked to veneer about how his sister treats him and how he shouldn't let her be like that to him.

his face is full of worry if he sees you in a vulnerable state.

he literally gives the best hugs, it's canon, I know it's canon.

this emo mf knows exactly the right words to get you out of your vulnerable state for a while (bc the phrases he gives to others are probably what he wants to hear given to him).

he'll be really patient with you and help you with every step along the way even if you're having a hard time changing your bad traits.

he's also attentive at listening, he'll caress your hands with his thumb with a reassuring smile.

he'll be really sweet at tackling your situation and never makes you feel overwhelmed.

will cry with you tbh.

he's kind of helping himself when he helps you, because he's similar in a way.

Branch

branch was quite the panicker himself during the times when bergens ate trolls.

so he'd also know how to help you deal with it because he understands you.

he had to figure it out himself and was mostly alone to deal with his own vulnerability so he's happy to help you.

he'll look calm, composed and collected externally but even he, himself is slightly panicking on the inside. afraid that he'll let you down or he won't be of much help. don't worry though, he has it all put together after a bit.

If you're panicking, he'll help you focus, calm down and ease your hyperventilation.

"concentrate on your breathing, okay?"

once you've calmed down, he'll provide you with reassuring words.

he'll keep you company and stay with you until you feel composed enough to talk about it with him. he'll lend you an ear.

afterwards, he pats you on the shoulder and gives you advice that worked on him before.

━━━━━━━━━━

Creek

as bad as he is, he's literally the best when it comes to relaxation. he has that zen-like wisdom, so he'll calm you down and help you relax if you're panicking or overthinking too much.

just like floyd, he also knows exactly what to say to reassure or cheer someone up.

he'll give you a more positive outlook on whatever happened to you so that you don't overthink it.

tbh his voice itself is enough to calm you down.

he encourages different methods and ways(that he knows of) to you that could help.

King Trollex

this sweet goober offers you all his emotional support.

he feels upset, if you're upset. he's all frowny when he sees you vulnerable.

"can I give you a hug?" ofc he asks for consent.

will hug you tightly (he thinks hugs are a remedy for everything, besides music), quiet sobs are heard as his face is smooshed against your chest. just like bruce, he'll also rub your back soothingly while hugging you.

Intertwines both of your hands and encourages you to put your thoughts into words so that he knows what's going on that head of yours that's overthinking a lot of stuff.

keeps eye contact with you as you rant to him.

"you can get through this." he'll say with his cute smile.

the most he can provide is listening and comfort. he wishes he could help you more.

#trolls world tour #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #trolls 2 #trolls 3 #dreamwork trolls #trolls x reader #trolls world tour x reader #trolls band together x reader #brozone #trolls brozone #brozone x reader #john dory x reader #spruce x reader #bruce x reader #clay x reader #floyd x reader #branch x reader #creek x reader #trollex x reader #king trollex #x reader

[magics-neptunes-things]

Open your eyes

Hi guys!

A new one, you can find the ask in here, from the prompt here :) For this one it's the number 2 and 9.

Alexia I miss you :(

Enjoy ♥

______________________________________________________________

Alexia. You’ve known her since you were a little girl. You met her when the ball she was playing with ended up in your backyard and she came looking for it, half hidden behind her father. Yours gave it back to them and the first look you exchanged with her was separated by the two pairs of legs of your fathers.

Over the years you have developed a flawless friendship, even if the life paths you have chosen are different. Alexia is a world-famous footballer, and you decided to follow your dream to become a photographer. You studied for that and you work for an agency that offers you mandates that allow you to live in a very comfortable way. And over time you have made your own customers who don't hesitate to contact you directly. Not to mention that, thanks to Alexia’s influence, the Barcelona football club calls you whenever they need official photos.

You have been present for Alexia during her career, attending her ups and downs. You were there during her various operations and Alexia convinced you to agree to participate in the report made on her, "Labor Omnia Vincit". You even gave an interview, some of which was broadcast on that occasion. The title "Childhood Friend and Photographer" made you laugh, because Alexia is much more than that to you.

The truth is, you’re completely in love with her.

You couldn't say how long, but in your opinion always even if you didn't understand the signs right away in your teenage naivety. Lost in your sexuality, you first tried to date boys, before turning to girls. Alexia never showed any signs of attraction to you, so you desperately tried to stifle your feelings for her in other people’s arms when Alexia was cooing with someone else.

It never worked out.

In fact, you’ve been single for about four years now and you’re resigned to ending up an old maid in your apartment with your two cats.

You had the misfortune to confide in Mapi about your feelings during an evening a little too alcoholic in which Alexia didn't participate, And since, she reminds you regularly that you should do something to get out of this situation. Alexia never being very clear about it, the tattooed doesn't really know what are the feelings of the blonde for you. But she told you that anyway, if Alexia has romantic feelings for you, seeing you with someone after so many years could make her react.

You don’t believe it for a second, it never has before so you don’t see why it would change today.

********

"You have to do something Y/N, it’s no longer possible" sighs Mapi.

She’s been watching you nibble the black straw of your cocktail for longs minutes, looking gloomy. Alexia has obviously caught the eye of a girl tonight, with whom she has been talking for quite a while.

"What?" You mutter mechanically in return, not listening to her at all, without leaving Alexia’s eyes.

"I feel like I’m having a drink with Wednesday from the Adams Family" complains Mapi

"Let me guess, I should "Try another girls"? "

You use your fingers to mimic quotes, making Mapi’s rolls eyes.

"Clearly. I can feel your tension from here, you need to get laid."

"Oh fuck off Maria" you sigh as you let yourself go against the backrest of your chair. "Just go with your girlfriend and leave me alone"

You finally turned your eyes away from your best friend, but that’s only because she started looking at you. I’d rather swallow your straw right away than be caught looking at her.

After raising her middle finger in your direction, Mapi actually decides to join Ingrid on the dance floor. This doesn't prevent her from fondly tapping on your shoulder when she gets up.

You sigh and decide it’s time to go home. Alexia is no longer where she was and you’re not sure your nerves will stand to see her exchanging kisses with someone else. But when you get up, you are suddenly face with young woman who looks at you with a hesitant look.

"Hi" said the young woman timidly with an uncertain air.

"Hi?"

Her timid smiles is strange, but you let her explain the reason of her sudden presence next to you.

"Um… it’s probably a little weird, but your friend over there told me you haven’t stopped looking at me all night, and you're like kind of cute so…"

You follow the direction she shows you with her head, but you figured it out before your eyes fell on Mapi. The spaniard addresses you a big smile and a sign of the hand, then a wink too exaggerated. You hold back a sigh and turn your attention to the young woman in front of you. Blonde, with some tattoos, taller than you and green eyes. You weren’t looking at her, but you see very well what Mapi wanted to do. She is unbearable.

"Were you going to go home?" continues the blonde, looking at your purse in your hand and your jacket on your shoulders.

"Um… I was, to be really honest with you"

"Would you mind staying while I offer you at least one drink? Not for long, I swear."

You hesitate for a split second, looking at her thoughtfully. She looks nice and deep down she's not responsible of you being desperately in love with your best friend. You briefly bite the inside of your lip before deciding to accept.

"Great!"

After taking your order, Erika (who just told you her name) hurries to the bar. You sit back at the table, waiting for her return and you thank her with a big smile when she's back. You realize with a certain surprise that you actually get along pretty well. Erika has an easy conversation and you catch yourself laughing at what she tells you. If you don’t notice Alexia watching you from the bar where she’s leaning, Mapi doesn’t miss that little detail. Despite Ingrid who asks her to take care of her affairs.

You’ve been talking to Erika for 30 minutes when Alexia comes to sit beside you, putting her hand on your shoulder when she sits next to you.

"Oh hi. I wondered where you’ve been" you smile at her

"At the bar" mumble Alexia.

"Hum, okay" you answer before turning to Erika. "Ale, this is Erika. Erika, this is..."

"Alexia Putellas. I know" Erika smiles in a friendly way before reaching out to Alexia.

Alexia grabs her hand and smiles, but that’s not the kind of smile you like about Alexia. It’s the same kind of smile as when she forces herself on photos, not those that make her eyes shine. You wish you could question her, but you don’t see yourself doing it when Erika is with you.

"Do you want another drink?" Erika offers, putting her hand on yours.

You accept with a smile and she smiles back before getting up from her chair to go to the bar.

"Is everything okay?" You take the opportunity to ask Alexia.

"Why wouldn’t I be okay?"

The answer surprises you, you didn't expect a question back to yours, to be completely honest. Her gaze plunges into yours and you have the impression that it pierces you. You have well understood that something bothers her and as you are about to ask her if it's in relation to the girl with whom she was talking, Mapi lets herself fall loudly in a chair beside you.

"Well then? Where’s your pretty blonde, Y/N?"

"She went back to get us a drink. Besides, wait until I take care of your case" you add pointing an accusing finger at her.

"Oh, no need to thank me, it’s all natural" grins Mapi.

"I hate you" you mumble

"Besides, if I were you, I would join her rather than let her come back to the three of us. Kind of weird to find herself with your two friends."

You also don’t see the annoyed look Alexia gives her, but you’re not sure it’s a good idea. But Mapi doesn’t give you much choice again, forcing you to get up from your chair and push you in her direction. You end up going there and Mapi doesn't wait a single second to turn in Alexia's direction.

"What was that?"

"What?" Alexia groans.

"Your behavior Ale. You were in a good mood until Y/N started talking to Erika"

Alexia answers nothing, shrugging her shoulders before crossing her arms over her chest. Now she's the one looking gloomy.

"Wait, where did she go?"

Alexia’s frenetic gaze travels through the room without being able to find you, which annoys her as much as it worries her. While she's about to get up from her chair to go looking for you, Mapi puts a hand on her arm to prevent her from doing so.

"Alexia."

"You don’t know who this girl is and you’re pushing her in her arms," Alexia abruptly says. "She’s probably not good enough for her, since when do we meet great people in nightclubs? Y/N need someone who bought her flower, take her on romantic dates and who will take care of her. That's not the kind of person you met in here."

Mapi remains silent, for so long that Alexia ends up ripping her eyes from the room to report it on the tattooed girl. Who looks at her with a perplexed look.

"I can’t tell if you’re lying to me or if you’re lying to yourself"

Although Alexia’s jaw is tight, Mapi sees her move distinctly when she looks for the right words to respond.

"I don’t know what you mean"

Mapi snorts at such bad faith, gently shaking her head. Since the captain decided to be stubborn, Mapi decides to talk the facts.

"You’re in love with her, Alexia"

Mapi’s tone is accusatory but Alexia answers nothing to it, her gaze stubbornly fixed somewhere in the room and her arms still crossed.

"Why are you reacting like this? Why is this a problem, Ale?"

"She’s my best friend, Maria. She’s known me since we were six"

"Yes, and what?"

"She’ll never look at me that way. I don’t know when my feelings have changed, but I can’t tell her."

"But why not?" Mapi almost shout

"Forget it" Alexia warns.

Mapi rolls her eyes and decides to let it go for the moment, plunging the two friends into a silence for several minutes. If Alexia remains silent, always looking for you everywhere in the establishment, so Mapi takes the opportunity to check that no one tries to approach Ingrid.

You end up coming back about thirty minutes after Alexia lost sight of you. You’re alone, but she doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or not. At any moment you'll tell them you’re going to leave with Erika.

"Where were you?" asks dryly Alexia, looking at you

"Um… in the bathroom?"

"What? With Erika?" Mapi smirks, almost jumping in her chair. "Did you sleep with her?"

"In the bathroom of a bar?"

You bow an eyebrow with a grimace and the shadow of a smile is born on Alexia’s face, despite her arms still crossed on her chest. Mapi shrugs her shoulders with an innocent face and you don’t want to know what kind of things she made in nightclub's bathroom.

"Where is she then?" insists Mapi

"She’s gone home" you shrug

"Without you? Do you even have her number? Did she kiss you at least?"

You blush and it's finally Alexia who puts an end to your ordeal. You are grateful to her, even if you don't know that it's also to put an end to hers that the Catalan decides to intervene.

"Mapi, stop. Now. I’ll go home too, I’ll take you home, Y/N?"

"With pleasure" you smile affectionately at her.

You get your jacket and purse back for good this time and say goodbye to the other girls before following Alexia to the exit.

You smile when you feel her put a hand between your shoulder blades to guide you to her car, even if you know perfectly where it's parked since you arrived together. It's in silence that you sit in her car and Alexia starts it.

"You didn’t answer Mapi’s question earlier"

Alexia’s observation makes you turn your head in her direction, whereas you were lost in the contemplation of the buildings of Barcelona by night.

"And you blushed. You kissed her?"

You sigh softly before shaking your head negatively. You’re not sure that talking to Alexia is the right thing to do, since it’s exactly because of her that things didn’t go further with Erika. When she tried to kiss you, you panicked and left.

"No" you end up answering, looking out the window with a new found passion.

You miss the relief that passes on Alexia’s face when she hear your answer. She doesn’t need to know why, just to know that nothing happened is enough for her. So it's with a little more joy that she brings you home and with a real smile that she accepts when you offer her to sleep at your home again that night.

"What about you? You didn't tell me what happened with your beautiful stranger" you point out once installed on your sofa with a bottle of water in hand and a shit telenovela on TV.

"Because there is nothing to tell. We just talked"

You just hums, leaning your head against her shoulder. You sigh with happiness when she puts her arm around your waist and you don't hesitate to cuddle up against her. If you have to keep your feelings quiet, at least you have the chance to find some physical comfort from her.

"So it wasn't because of her you were upset?"

You feel Alexia lean slightly against you and you cross her eyes when you raise your head to be able to look at her. There is something special in her eyes and you can't say what it is. It's a first in your life, you like to say that you're one of the people who knows Alexia the best.

"No" answer simply Alexia at first. "I just... I don't know. It was weird seeing you with another girl again"

You shrug, not realizing what she really mean. You are too used to silence your feelings and it has been many years since you have well integrated that Alexia sees you only as a friend.

"I’m not sure I’ll see her again anyway"

"Good. She’s probably not good enough for you"

You answer with a simple shrug again, putting your head back on her shoulder. You don’t realize that Alexia is frying her brain, trying to extricate herself from the conversation you’re in. Seeing you with someone else made her realize that it was time she tried something before it was too late. But she doesn’t know how to make you understand things without being too shocking or surprising for you.

"Maybe I should try Tinder or something" you mumble.

"Don't be stupid. You're better than that"

Alexia’s answer is dry, but you don't even react, imagining that it's only the disgust that this kind of application gives her that speaks. And not the idea of imagining you in the arms of someone else who annoys her prodigiously.

"I don’t have many other solutions left" you point out to her when you stand up to put your bottle of water on the table.

"Maybe you should just… open your eyes?"

"What do you mean, open my eyes?" you ask while arching an eyebrow.

Suddenly, Alexia decides that she's tired of this conversation that goes around again and again. That seems to lead you nowhere. She doesn't want to rush you but gently make you realize the reality of her feelings for you. But she feels like you will never understand.

So, she takes advantage of the fact that you are sitting and no longer lying against her to catch the necklace that she offered you for your birthday, using her index finger to attract you against her. Without you really understanding how, her lips are against yours and the way you feel is even better than you’ve ever imagined.

Alexia’s lips are soft, as you dreamed about it. They taste like her lip balm and not alcohol since she has not consumed it all evening. You briefly wonder if yours tastes like mojito, before this question evaporates when you feel her tongue caressing your lower lip.

From there, the kiss becomes a little more intense and you forget everything else. You’re not even sure you can identify yourself if you’ve been ask when the kiss stop so you can both breath again. You keep your eyes closed for a few seconds, to soak up as much as possible of this moment and not forget the slightest detail.

When you open your eyes, Alexia’s eyes are looking at you with a multitude of emotions. She seems to be as breathless as you. Which is probably a good news, thus testifying that you aren't the only one to be under the blow of this kiss. Moreover you don't fight yourself for long before you let your desire to start again. So you bend in her direction for a new kiss.

Alexia answers it, but takes off from you too fast for your taste. You hear her giggle softly when you whine and your lips chase hers, but you step back when you feel her hand resting on your stomach to stop you. Frowning, you look at her wondering what is more important than enjoying these new sensations.

"I just… before I go on… I mean… it’s not just like that, right? Does it mean anything to you too?" ramble Alexia.

"Of course you do" you smile softly at the blonde’s hesitation "You always meant the world to me, Ale."

"Perfect" smiled Alexia before leaning over you for a new kiss. "Now we can kiss again."

And you do. This one won’t be interrupted by thoughts of one or the other. After all, you’ll have plenty of time to discuss all this tomorrow.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas

[randombush3]

you're not sorry to go

ona batlle x reader

summary: ona and you are best friends, but it's a bit more complicated than that

words: 4.5k

notes: this one is based on true events x

also let's ignore the result of my poll because i want the next part to have smut and it wasn't fitting with the vibe of this part

oh and the title is a quote from 'this side of paradise' by f. scott fitzgerald

January, nine years ago. 

Nothing about today has been out of the ordinary. 

The weekend is starting, winter drags on, and Ona is all set to train later on in the evening, provided you confirm whether or not you are willing to accompany her to the local pitch. 

Barcelona B usually allows for Fridays off, but Ona isn’t stupid. No one becomes the greatest footballer of all time by not playing more. School is beginning to bore Ona to death, and she knows that she wants what she always has: to go professional. 

“I have a plan,” she tells you confidently, glad you don’t mind sitting on the uneven, grassy sideline as she sets up her cones with determination. You hold the ball between your hands, though Ona is amused by how foreign it looks to you, and you seem to be holding her prized possession hostage so that she spills. “It sounds simple and obvious out loud, but it’s that I am going to play for Barça while you go to the university. You can introduce me to your smart friends so I can meet my wife, and you’ll have all the boys after you anyway so–” 

“Ona.” Her monologue has led her eyes to the ground, but your voice makes her head jerk upwards, not needing much authority to get her to look at you. “I’ve actually had a… realisation, of sorts,” you say with a bashful grin, chin jutting out the way it does when you are gearing up to tell her something that no one else will get to know. “Your cousin is really pretty.” 

“I’ll tell her you said that.” It’s a nice thing to say, and you are partly aware that Ona’s cousin knows who you are because she doesn’t shut up about you ever, but you can’t help the frustration that begins to bubble up inside of you.

“No, Ona,” you try again, “she’s really pretty. Like, I would kiss her.” 

Ona frowns, then. “Don’t be one of those.” She means the girls who experiment, who toe the line of liking girls but don’t, not really. She has been warned about them by her older teammates, the ones who go out for drinks and kiss girls in clubs. The budding footballer really admires them, because their advice is always good and she gets to explore her sexuality without feeling like a creep. No one in Vilassar de Mar cares much that Ona does like girls, but it doesn’t stop her from feeling judged all the same. 

You are one of her best friends, but Ona isn’t sure she can forgive you if you become someone like that. 

“I’m not! I wouldn’t do that.” Your offence is suspicious, and you have been so caught up in destroying her worries that the ball has been dropped and is now rolling towards Ona’s feet, where it is instinctively flicked upwards and caught. “I wouldn’t, Oni, because I know it’s unfair to you guys.” 

“But you want to kiss my cousin? That makes you interested in girls in general too, you know.” 

You bite your lip. 

“Ona, I think I’m gay.” 

The ball is dropped, along with her jaw, and you shift uncomfortably in your seated position, not enjoying how big of a deal she is making this out to be. 

People realise that they’re gay all the time! Why should it be any different for you? 

“Oh,” is all Ona can manage to breathe out, wondering what to do next. Although your friendship cracks the padlocks of most secrets, there is one that hasn’t ever been shared. One that now means substantially more than it did five minutes ago. 

“Say something, please,” you groan in mock annoyance, moving aside your textbooks so that you can grab Ona’s hand and pull her down on top of you. She is much stronger – she trains every day – but something about your skin touching hers injects a surge of patheticness into her well-earned muscles, and she falls, of course she does, because she always falls for you. 

…

A year passes. 

You kiss Ona’s cousin, as intended, and Ona knows the breakup is going to be rough but nothing prepares her for when it comes. 

She’s conflicted, and she’s older now. No longer left behind by her teammates, Ona gets to go out with them when they don’t have football; she gets to talk to the girls about their sex lives, she gets to be involved in it all. She has met Alexia Putellas and been treated like an equal, and she made out with her fourth ever girl last week, this time progressing past tongues and confidently letting her hands roam. 

Ona would say that she has learnt a lot since you dropped your nuclear missile, and she has managed to forget the initial hope she had felt. The secret had been near-faded. 

Until you are calling her, sending her a text when she doesn’t reach her phone quick enough.

‘Ona, I really need you.’ 

She hears nothing from her cousin – they were closer when they were younger – and that, she reasons, is why she is by your side in an instant, meeting you at the windy beach you go to when you are sad, hair damp from running and eyes a little wide as she tries to wake herself up. 

“She said she can’t do it anymore,” you whisper, voice cracking under the strain your sobs had put on it. “She said that she really likes me but that it’s not enough, and she doesn’t want to break my heart but she knows she has to.” 

Ona doesn’t get a chance to respond, because you have flung yourself into her chest before she can think of the right words to say. 

Your shoulders shake as you cry, devastating howling joining the whistles of the wind and the thrash of the waves. The sand is unsteady beneath your feet and you stumble, but Ona holds you firmly, as though she has only ever trained to hold you up. Though you feel her biceps, hard and significantly larger than the last time she had held you this way, you are too caught up in your first heartbreak to acknowledge the tiny, tiny spark between you. 

As you cry and cry and cry, Ona can’t help but feel a little bitter towards her cousin. Clearly, your affection wasn’t false and, though it was working towards the severance of your friendship, you actually cared quite a lot for her. 

Ona chooses to abstain from her jealousy because she is embarrassed that it is possible. 

She is there for you the next day, ensuring you have eaten and allowing you to sleep, but the sun soon sets and Ona vows one thing to herself: she will not take advantage of it. 

“I’m going home,” you mumble when you wake from your restless nap, rolling over into the empty space in your best friend’s bed. The sheets there are cold and unused. Ona must not have moved a muscle since you fell asleep. “My parents must be a little confused, and we have people coming over for dinner. Thank you for looking after me.” 

“No problem.” Ona nods and you awkwardly stand up. “I think I’m going out with the team tonight, but don’t hesitate to call me if… Well, if you feel sad again.” 

“It’s going to feel shit with or without you.” 

You are trying to distance her, to tell her that she can have fun. It might be an issue that your friendship only seems to work when the two of you discuss your recent conquests or latest flings, but it is not one that either of you wants to address for now. 

“I’m just making sure you know I’m here,” she defends indignantly, rolling her eyes at the glimpse of your happier self making its return. 

“Are you going to be drunk?” Your question is pointed and you should really cross your arms and tap your foot impatiently to match your tone. “Don’t you have training tomorrow?” 

“Maybe, and not tomorrow, no. I’ve been asked to join the first team the day after so they’ve given me an alternative rest day.” 

“Ona, if you get drunk, you won’t be there for me at all. You’ll have your tongue down some poor, poor girl’s throat and your phone will be dead.” You laugh from experience, having grown accustomed to how she behaves under the influence. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I swear that alcohol is what fuels your hormones. I’m not going to burden you with my fucking pathetic crying, and, well, you know me, I’ll just find a boy to talk to. I am going to be fine.” 

No one in the room is convinced. 

You swat the air between you two, telling her to get on with getting ready. “Now, enjoy your night, and tell me all about it tomorrow morning!” 

Ona wonders if you are over-compensating by insisting to hear about whoever she has gotten off with, but you are practically flying out the door the minute you have said goodbye to her family and she is stumbling around her room trying to find a clean bra. Life goes on. 

If time did not tick on its own, one of you would task yourselves with turning the hands of the clock manually. 

You try to recover from how much it fucking kills to have a girl break your heart by reminding yourself of your worth in the best way possible: male attention. They hound you, but you enjoy it. You crave it, most of the time, even if the feelings are never quite believably reciprocated. 

It annoys Ona to no end, the way you play with the boys chasing after you. She hates the push and pull, fed-up with the constant complaining from your end. Often, because Ona speaks her mind when she can, she tells you that it’s not fair on the ones who hand their hearts to you only to watch you pierce through them with sharp, I-was-never-a-lesbian nails. 

You don’t talk about her cousin. At least, not to Ona because you have been informed by some other friend that blood is thicker than water.

Or maybe it’s because Ona begins to avoid you, begins to spend more time with her teammates, who don’t hide their sexuality and who like the things she likes. (Once, in a hateful frenzy, Ona thinks to herself that the only thing the two of you have in common nowadays is that she likes you and you like you too.) 

“What happened to your best friend?” Laia Aleixandri asks thoughtfully once after training. Ona is helping her collect the water bottles the other girls had left lying around on the pitch. There have been more injuries than what’s comfortable within the first team, and maybe some of the reserves have forgotten that they are not yet professionals. “You’ve stopped talking about her.” 

“We’ve fallen out,” Ona answers, settling on that because she doesn’t know how else to describe the shift in your relationship. 

“Over what?” comes Laia’s obvious sequential question, more a due dalliance than genuine interest. Laia is one of those girls who plays to play and can sometimes be too busy to spend time with the team outside of training. Because of this, she is largely unaware of Ona’s growing reputation within the squad. As Ona has grown up, her confidence has increased. Girls like that, and they are in plentiful supply to her. She no longer needs to be drunk, but something almost certainly occurs if she is. 

“She dated my cousin and, I don’t know, the way she acted in the fall-out was horrible. She likes girls, I know she likes girls, but I think she has been scarred and her ego has been bruised. No boy has ever made her cry like that, and I think she’s traumatised. And it’s valid! I understand, completely and totally, but she is acting as though she never had a thing with my cousin and it’s annoying. It’s as if being gay is a joke to her.”

Laia senses that Ona’s not done, and she is correct to think so. 

The next wave is this: “Laia, I really don’t agree with it, and it is hurting me. It hurts to see my cousin be messed around by a straight girl, it hurts to see my best friend hate part of herself, and it hurts me because, well, it just– it just does! I can’t explain it.” She can; she doesn’t want to. Her secret is still heavily guarded and it is going to take more than Laia asking about you to get her to confess. “I just want peace for everyone involved,” she says after taking a deep, diplomatic breath. 

“Peace,” Laia repeats with a giggle. “Ona, the things I have heard about you are the opposite of ‘peace’. Aita’s been keeping me in the loop, and she says that–” 

“Okay, Laia, I don’t need a lecture.” 

What probably would have been very helpful for Ona to know is lost to the devastating final blow of her eye-roll as she jogs to the water cooler to return the bottles and head home. 

…

The reconciliation of a decade-old friendship is fast and natural. Things do not quite go back to normal, and the two of you are not as close as before, but your group of friends at school breathe out a collective sigh of relief when the ice thaws and Ona starts to turn up to their gatherings instead of the ones held by her beloved blaugranas. 

It’s a camping trip. 

Their first year of bach has ended, and someone – Ona doesn’t know who – has suggested a camping trip because her grandfather’s brother owns a farm and the farm has a field and the field is far-removed enough for the smell of cigarettes and red-label whiskey to dissolve before reaching the house. 

“Are we really going?” Ona asks, making you all laugh as you haul your bags and tents along the tractor path. 

“I do think we should’ve gotten in the tractor,” you agree. Ona nods at you, thanking you for your support. 

Everyone else says it’s good fitness, and then hurls insults at Ona for the remainder of the trek because she should be the last to complain if she is going to become a professional athlete. 

It’s not as far as it seems, and the tents are set up quickly, along with some chairs, a foldable table, and a hefty stash of various bottles of alcohol. 

You start smoking the minute someone flashes their lighter, and Ona uses that as a reason to stay on the other side of the small campsite for a good hour or so. 

She stays away from you no matter how much you stare, but you watch her all the same. 

The boys you talk to are not satisfying. Some may have innocent intentions but the majority don’t, and you know that you are pretty but you are not shallow like that. You don’t even meet the boys half the time unless they corner you at school and demand a slot of your in-person attention.

The boys you talk to explain football and the gym and why they have to play FIFA until the sun rises because it will definitely help Barcelona win on the weekend. They take you for an idiot, and they hardly acknowledge that your best friend (sort of) plays for their darling club so of course you know the rules and the positions. You know that Ona is a defender, and that she is good at it. You don’t want to be patronised and you don’t care about this kind of thing unless it involves Ona. 

Therein lies the issue, actually. 

You don’t care about much unless it involves Ona. Ona, who sways to the music bursting out from the speakers just as stiffly as she always has, not exactly blessed with dancing talent but not for lack of trying. Ona, who declines alcohol tonight because she is following a summer strength and conditioning programme with the hopes of playing in the first team’s preseason matches. Ona, who looks beautiful. Always. 

Smoke billows from your cigarette, right towards the point of your focus, and, suddenly, doe-like eyes are staring back at you with a small, small smirk. She waves, as if to say that she has caught you, and you lean back on the camping chair you are slouched in, pretending to laugh at whatever your friend has just said beside you.

Later, when everyone else is knocked out from the bad quality of the whiskey, snoring comfortably in the other tents, Ona and you kiss. And once you start kissing, you don’t stop. 

Ona is good at this, you assume, because she knows exactly what to do. Contrary to popular belief, you are far more active in theory than in practice, and she surprises you a little bit. Or maybe she doesn’t, because it’s Ona and Ona is good at everything. 

You strive to match her, and you do by the time you finish school. 

Sporadic, non-committal, and in complete disregard for your friendship, the arrangement of hooking up when you feel like it sees you out of Catalonia, with Ona naturally in tow. 

Madrid CFF is happy to have her, and you quite enjoy the challenge of the Spanish capital. It’s not Barcelona, it’s not ideal, but change is good and you need space to explore who you are without watchful eyes and nosy gossipers. 

Homophobia isn’t quite a thing in your family. Your parents are not radically against gay people. In fact, you’d say they are relatively supportive. However, that doesn’t stop you from feeling some discomfort. You lived through Ona’s struggle to come out, and her parents are ever more care-free than yours. 

Madrid is a brand-new place, and word about how you are doing is easily controlled. Updates come from either you or Ona, and that means there is a filter easily applied to all anecdotes. 

Your friends know about the sex, more or less. They know, they don’t approve, but they let you guys sort it out yourselves because everyone agrees that that is just how you and Ona are. They won’t understand it and they have given up on trying to.

Both of you make half-hearted efforts to separate the arrangement from your friendship. You don’t talk much afterwards until the other has left the realm of I-am-in-love-with-you. It’s nice to be in Madrid together, but you find different social circles soon enough and then you are reaching out more for sex than friendly activities and… You stop sleeping with each other upon the footballer’s request. She wants to focus on her career, on her success. She tells you over the phone because she cannot bring herself to end whatever occurred over the last two years in person, knowing that she’d take back her decision in a heartbeat. Ona really, really likes football, and she knows that she has to become obsessed with it to get to the top; more obsessed than she is now. How can she do that if you are distracting her? 

You’re disappointed, but you respect her wishes. 

Girls in Madrid stop seeming as shiny. The world is a bit duller, because although there had been no exclusivity between you and your best friend, there had always been that guarantee that the other would be ready and waiting. Your growing misery makes studying boring, and you find answers for your emotions in a science textbook, desperately running away from the obvious truth. Less sex means that you are unhappier. It’s biology. 

It’s not a crush. 

Not on Ona. 

No. 

And it’s certainly not this not-realisation that flies you to Milan the minute a modelling agency inquires about whether you have ever thought of, well, modelling. They scout you someplace random, and your mother claims that she could have helped you start your career earlier if only you’d have been interested. 

When you explain to your best friend what you are moving for, she is oddly unsurprised and uncaring. Her reaction is sickening, because you’d have rathered her get an ego boost from having slept with a model than be so fucking apathetic. 

“I’m going to Milan, Ona,” you repeat, just in case she has not heard you. “I’m moving. We did the trial shoots last week, and they loved me. They want me to update my social media and work on building up a following, and they said that I should start learning English because I might end up in New York.” 

“That’s good. I’m happy for you.” She doesn’t sound like she means it, and you grow annoyed about how she is not even trying to sound enthusiastic. 

“Can’t you be happy for me? Or is it only acceptable for you to have dreams?” 

“I am happy for you, I just said that.” 

“The words left your mouth, but they definitely did not come from your heart.” 

“You’re being dramatic.” Ona rolls her eyes and the pent-up sexual tension builds and builds until the bottle it has been shoved into can no longer withstand the pressure. You haven’t argued since you moved to Madrid, which makes no sense considering you literally broke up – even if it absolutely wasn’t dating. Neither of you has processed your broken heart, and you’re pretty sure you are still too traumatised from the first girl you fell in love with to be capable of revisiting those kinds of emotions. 

Ona hasn’t had sex in weeks, and it is affecting her performance. She can’t sleep if she has the energy she does, and she can’t get through her workouts because not sleeping makes her lose her appetite and then she does not have the energy to complete them. Her coaches are worried, but they know that she is young and though almost idiotic, they mostly assume that she is repulsed by the idea of playing for a club in Madrid. They get that a lot with the Catalans that come over from La Masia, whose dreams have been delayed because the first team had thought it necessary that they gained more experience elsewhere. 

Ona has wanted to shout and scream every minute of every day, and so have you. Therefore, everything explodes. 

…

You inhale deeply, exhaling when it feels as though some of the stress has dissipated. This casting is one of the more important ones of the week. It’s odd to be judged on your appearance, to be paid for it, but it has been almost a year since you moved to Milan and you are enjoying yourself. 

You don’t miss university, and you don’t miss your parents. Your friends visit you lots, loving the idea of your career, loving the excuse to escape their dreary weekends in where they have always been. 

Milan is great. You make friends with a few other models, though they come and go depending on work, and the more experience you get, the more your following count goes up. Brands send you things, nice things, and events start extending invites to lure you into the glamour of the industry. 

Milan is great, you tell yourself on repeat. 

Milan is great, but it would be better if Ona were here. 

Milan is great, but you regret the way you left things and want to take it all back. 

Milan is great but– 

“Your fitting is tomorrow,” says the assistant, reading off her iPad. You suppress your wandering thoughts, nodding. You need this job, you need the money to pay for a flight. The agency has given you some advancements – an impressive thing, apparently – but not enough to cover the cost of the ticket to New York for the start of Fashion Week. This show will fluff out your experience, and increase your chances of walking at one of the bigger shows. 

You’ve been told that you are quite a good model; attractive, funny, with just the right amount of personality to be both a mannequin and an interesting figure. 

The lifestyle is different but good, and you realise that you’d never wanted the mundanity of studying and then working and selling your soul to some kind of tall office building. Not everyone gets the concept of living away from home, especially not those from your tight-knit community who think the city is stretching the distance slightly (the train works, you can live with your parents and have a good job – you’ve been told that a few times), but you don’t mind. You can explain it as much as you want and they would still be confused. 

You stay in touch, but you don’t stay present. 

As your career snowballs over the next two years, you pull away from your home, always on a flight, always busy. You go to LA and Paris and London, and you rent your flat in Milan out as an Airbnb whenever you’re not there. You love the city, you start to think of it as yours, and slowly but surely, everything else fades into the background. 

Apart from Ona, of course. Your friends still visit, or you meet up with them if you ever find yourself in Barcelona, and they continue to affirm just how proud they are of you. They talk about her a lot, too; about where she’s playing now, about injuries and fame and representing Spain. They know you are too stubborn to search it up for yourself, but these are the people who have grown up with you: they know you would like to be informed. 

When you hear that Ona has moved to Manchester, you don’t quite think your actions through. 

You have had enough. You miss her terribly.

Her number has changed, but someone passes it onto you. 

You: I saw that you’re playing Arsenal next week. I’ll be in London then. Do you want to get a coffee? 

Ona takes her time replying, but that is only because she wants to delay the inevitable. 

Her eyes shine and her hair is damp, but the kick-off had been early and you don’t have anything to do today. You meet her in the carpark, picking her up in a black BMW that’s sleek and shiny and 100% not yours. Her laugh is light and free as she knocks on the driver’s window and juts her thumb out, instructing you to swap. 

“I’m not getting in a car that you’re driving,” she declares seriously, though you know she has forgiven you because she would not have agreed to meet if she hadn’t. “Come on, I checked on Maps and there’s a place not too far from here that looks nice. And it’s empty, so don’t worry about the paparazzi.” 

“The paparazzi are not after me,” you shut down quickly, not wanting her to think you are a bigger deal than what you are. Successful, yes. Famous? Not so much. “One day it’ll be you worrying about them, when you’re all grown up.” 

“I’m twenty-one!” 

It comes out so whiny and childish that you burst into a fit of giggles. Ona is proud to have made you laugh. 

You don’t kiss her, but you’d like to. Then again, maybe it’s better to just be friends. 

#woso x reader #woso #woso imagines #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #barca femeni #randombush3 #pretend it's not all build up #but it is

[syoddeye]

reading recs

received an anon the other day that requested fic recs of all ratings, here's a big list of some of my favorites! definitely not exhaustive, definitely forgot people, and i am so sorry in advance for that. please mind the tags on these fics.

SNAFU by @adnauseum11

I've posted about SNAFU before. This is one of my comfort series. Excellent characterization of a retired John Price, navigating a relationship with one of his oldest friends.

Heavy Weighs the Crown by @sentientcave

Newer series, very yummy so far. I love Charlie's characterization of the 141 in this universe, and their writing is delectable.

Rugby AU by @sentientcave

Another banger from Charlie. Reader Ripper is also yummy. Something to snack on. To quote: "I don't know anything about Rugby tbh this is just vibes and thots. Something somethin elaborate rituals."

Nobody by @391780

My gateway fic into Nikto. Without giving anything away, every chapter sends me into a short spiral. The most recent chapters have done heinous (affectionate) things to my brain.

Ursa Major by @the-californicationist

Have you ever been to Alaska? Ever wanted to visit? Honestly, read this fic and let Cali transport you there. Her ability to set the scene and bring it to life is un-fucking-matched. Doc (Reader) is a smart, confident reader-insert that feels like a real person.

Binders and Boyfriends by @pfhwrittes

Trans 141 and Trans Reader supremacy. Another comfort series from the wonderful Parker. Everything listed here is wonderful, but I have a major soft spot for P's Gaz-centric works.

Housemate!Gaz by @pfhwrittes

First, in this house, we hate Reader's roommate. Second, we are Widget fans. Third, could you fucking imagine opening the door and your new roommate was Kyle motherfucking Garrick? I'd faint.

Call of The Jurassic by @stuffireadandenjoy

Another newer series that put me on the edge of my seat. When I first saw that Tats was giving us my favorite fellas and putting them in Jurassic Park, ooooooh, I knew we were going to be spoiled rotten.

Wrong Number Right Day by @stuffireadandenjoy

"Kyle gets a wrong number text but decides to be a little generous that day." Reader's living the dream. Text Kyle Garrick and get cash money for rent? Very excited for more of this.

Price of Pegging by @gemmahale

Pegging and John Price. I could stop there, but I won't. Gemma nails the depiction of a submissive Captain Price. She also captures the dynamic of a couple trying something new extremely well, that gave me some fluffy feelings.

All of Gemma’s WIPs by @gemmahale

I've had the absolute privilege to read some previews of Gemma's work and the WORK and the DETAIL and the CHARACTERS are chef's kiss. Delicious. It's so difficult to pick just one. I love the Feywilds. Useful Girl. Call of the Wild. Do yourself a favor and spend some time in the tags.

Offer Me His Hunger by @kaadaaan

Something about a 141-er and a single mom that's gonna do it for me every time. In Offer Me His Hunger, it's Johnny, and Reader has no idea what she's in for. Jesus Christ, Kadan writes one of my favorite Johnnys, and really nails that obsessive and calculating streak.

The Space in Between by @391780

You will laugh, you will cry, you will love and hate mafia boss!John Price. Reader crosses paths with John and the 141, and gets caught in their wake. Early writes some of the best Reader characters of all time, and this one's no different. This story will get under your skin so fast, in the best way.

The Arrangement by @391780

Speaking of Early, this is THE gateway drug to her work, in my humble opinion. One of the first COD fics I ever read and converted me into being a Price girlie. Sugar Daddy Price x a cute, smart, and fucking funny Reader. Also one of my favorite characterizations of Simon of all time.

Club 141 by @greatstormcat

BDSM and the 141 make a Sy very happy. Reader starts off with a fake ass dom and is quickly properly introduced to BDSM culture with the fellas. Really solid group dynamics. Make sure you read that Price x Ghost post for a good fucking time.

Lamb to the Slaughter by @ohbo-ohno

Probably one of my favorite Ghoap fics of all time. The way my jaw was on the floor for the majority of this should've sent me to the emergency room. It's brutal, it's horrifying, and fuck me running, I loved it, start to finish.

The Pit by @peachesofteal

First, the nightmare of getting into an accident in the winter. Second, having Ghost and Soap find you. Oh boy, The Pit is peak Ghoap manipulation. When I got to the end, I just sat in silence. Stunned. It was amazing.

Eyes Wide, Tongue Tied by tippytulip (if you're on here, pls lmk!)

Another early COD fic for me. A thrill ride with a whip-smart Reader AND it's set in the Midwest. Those are two ways into my heart. The relationship between Reader and Price isn't an easy one, and he gives her a dozen and a half reasons to dislike him. Another ride of a fic, with great action scenes and group dynamics.

Trapper, Keeper by @tinypandacakes

A König fic that makes me screech no less than ten times per chapter. Panda writes a fucking scary König and it blows my mind. So much of it is subtle and manipulative, with few outright (so far, it's ongoing!) examples. I get a knot in my stomach every time I read and I LOVE IT.

DOG by Danceofthesevenveils

Another König fic that features a pathetic loser König, who is also one of the scariest motherfuckers I've ever read. The use of text messages underscores the creepy vibes, and a great vehicle for the Reader x König dynamic early on.

Desire Paths by @ceilidho

Manipulative best friend Johnny, you are iconic to me. Ceilidh writes some of the best nasty Johnny fic out there, but Desire Paths has my heart. Another ending that had me gasping.

Take Me Home, Country Road by @ceilidho

Cowboy Price, take me awayyyyyy. A fantastic Western AU focused on a Reader with a secret and a Sheriff Price that'll make you sit up straighter. Ceilidh captures John's voice so clearly, I can hear it when I read. That porch scene is seared into my brain in the best way.

Tender is the Flesh by @crashtestbunny

Do you like scary Simon? Do you like feeling unsettling and turned on? *slams table* Do I have the fic for you! Connie's butcher!Simon makes my blood run both hot and cold. "Oh she’s a stunner." lives in my head rent free. Also the apron tie bit.

Pornstar!AU by @shotmrmiller

Warning, if you don't smoke, you might start after reading Toni's porn AU. I love this depiction of Ghost, his control and his care. AND there's a threesome bit with Ghost x Reader x Price. It's what dreams are made of.

#sy fic recs #fic recs #once again i will say the COD fandom is SPOILED FOR CHOICE #so much talent

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Back to You 💌

You and Eddie used to be friends, the best of friends since meeting during childhood. Now your friendship is in tatters and Eddie hates you? Right?

Enemies to lovers fic, childhood friends, idiots in love, protective Eddie, minors shoo.

Eddie Munson x Reader

Brief Billy Hargrove x Reader

If you have any requests send me an ask 💌 make sure to read my request rules on my pinned post 💞 💌

🎀

You remembered the day you and Eddie stopped speaking like it was yesterday.

Exactly a year ago you auditioned for the cheerleading squad and made the team, you were so excited and rushed to tell Eddie.

He was actually supportive of you joining the squad but the thing he didn't like was your new friends. They thought Eddie was a freak and Eddie hated the lot of them with a passion.

No matter how you tried to make it work the distance grew between you both and culminated in a final argument that the two of you never recovered from.

It was now your senior year and the bond between you and Eddie was still shattered, he became more ensconced in his group of friends and in Hellfire Club and you settled nicely with your friends.

Animosity hung between you both and more often than not it led to the two of you bickering. It was like the two of you were never friends at all.

The thought makes your stomach clench and your throat tighten. For as much as you pretended to despise Eddie, it couldn't hide the fact that you missed him, the little ache never really went away.

Though you had no doubt that Eddie didn't care one about you anymore and that sends a wave of hurt through you. There was only so much that icy glares and mean barbs could hide.

Speak of the devil. Eddie stops talking to the rest of Hellfire and glares at you, there's a stubborn frown on his face that turns into a smirk.

"Staring at me again sweetheart? Anyone would think you were into me" he looks so smug and you clench your fists, remind yourself to count to three before you engage in his shit.

"As if Munson, Your voice carries across the cafeteria. Not everyone wants to hear your delusional rants you know" Eddie's eyes narrow and he folds his arms across his chest, his gaze pins you to the spot.

The rest of Hellfire looks back and forth between the two of you. You and Eddie both argued so much you were sure it must be entertainment for his friends.

Gareth and Jeff used to be your friends too a tiny traitor voice whispers to you and you swallow down the fact that you miss them too.

"Why don't you go back to your table and continue being a bitchy, vapid princess yeah?" God you hated him, you really did.

You give him one final dirty look and don't give him the satisfaction of seeing the words have upset you. It's not like he would care if they did.

He stopped caring about you a long time ago.

...

Parties really weren't your thing at all but this was the third one that Jason invited you to in two months so you figured you better show your face for a little bit.

As soon as you enter the party you wish you could turn around and go back home. The only saving grace is Chrissy who tucks you by her side and takes away some of the anxiety you're feeling.

Eddie is here because of course he is. No doubt he's selling weed, you'd give him shit for it but you know that he does it to help his uncle with money. How could you give him shit for that?

You're pulled out of your musings by a gentle tug on your hair and you turn to find Eddie behind you with a shit eating grin on his face.

"Did you just pull my hair, what are we five again Edward?" His eyes light up and he smiles at you, all dimples and mischievous.

"I love when you're angry princess. It's kinda hot" you still and his words disarm you for a minute. Only a minute.

"Hot? As if you would sully your precious reputation by dating one of them and I quote "Buttheads from the dark side" he was just doing this to rile you up and it was working.

He doesn't answer and you realise your heart is racing waiting for him to say something. A tiny bit of disappointment fills you but you choose to ignore it and storm past him.

Maybe you would be able to enjoy the party if you could just avoid Eddie but then you see one person who you work hard to never see at all costs. Someone worse than running into Eddie.

Billy Hargrove, surrounded by people as he chugged from a keg of beer.

Ugh. Seeing Billy was enough to annoy you at the best of times but this? Drunk Billy was a whole level of irritating. The two of you briefly dated last year and it was nice at first, until he cheated on you with some girl from another school outside of Hawkins and you found them at the cinema making out with not a care in the world.

What the hell did he want? "Hey babe, fancy seeing you here?" he smirks and walks over to you, swiftly blocking your way out. Fuck.

"Hargrove. Move your ass from my sight will you?" you snap, you're already verging on getting a headache, talking to him will just make it worse.

"Such harsh words honey. I mean last year you were all over me and now this?" You wince as you remember being really into Billy, god you were an idiot.

"Temporary insanity" you snap and he grins and leans close to you.

"Oh honey, it's your fault if you think you meant anything to me in the first place" fury curdles in your stomach. Asshole.

"Is there a problem here?" you freeze and let out a groan. Oh great. Just who you need to appear, Eddie.

His eyes are narrowed as he looks at Billy who smirks and moves past Eddie. "Nah Munson, just catching up with an old friend" he winks at you and you turn away still fuming and your eyes wet. Ah fuck.

"Dickhead, Eddie mutters and his glare turns to you but softens just slightly at your tears, "What the fuck did you see in him princess?" He demands and you shrug.

"No idea. He is a dick" it startles you that both you and Eddie are in agreement. You wipe your eyes and Eddie's fist clenches.

"You shouldn't cry over him princess" he tells you and his voice is still gentle. You peer up at him and feel that pull towards him, the pull that never really went away.

"Like you can talk Munson" Eddie's eyes widen and he stiffens when you say this and his gaze turns agonized.

"I never want to make you cry sweetheart" he swallows hard and still looks bereft. You can't stand seeing that look on his face.

"It only happened once" you shrug it off but it still doesn't clear that look from Eddie's face. He follows you as you need outside, trying to think of something to say to him.

Then the heavens open and rain begins to beat down on you both.

"Uh shit. Do you want me to take you home or something?" You shake your head at Eddie's suggestion, it's sweet but your parents aren't home tonight, you were meant to be staying with one of the girls.

"They aren't home. I'm supposed to be staying with one of the girls but I just want to get away from this shit for a night" Eddie nods and opens his van door for you.

"Then milady. To my castle I shall take you" you hadn't been back to Eddie's in such a long time but right now it was all you wanted and you gesture at him to lead the way.

Billy's words still echo in your mind as eddie drives. You thought you meant something to Billy last year but your hopes were quickly dashed. Your hopes of maybe finding someone who could love you for you were smashed to pieces.

If you were being honest with yourself the one person who you thought you would end up with was Eddie, when you were friends the thought would sometimes enter your mind. A far off future after high school where you and Eddie were happy and in love.

Obviously that went to shit too. You weren't Eddie's type. You had seen the girls he hooked up with occasionally and they were nothing like you, now it didn't matter because he hated you.

This makes your mood worse, just a bit. Then again if he hated you why was he being so kind to you right now?

You ask him as he leads you into the trailer, the question won't leave your mind and you need to ask.

"Eddie why are you doing this? You hate me don't you?" his eyes widen when you ask this and you flash back to the first time you met Eddie when you were four and he ran off some jerk who tried to steal your sweets in school. He was protective of you, even then.

"Okay uh let's get one thing straight, you can annoy the hell out of me but I could never ever hate you princess" this warms your heart just a little bit.

"Well ditto"

You kiss Eddie's cheek, his heated gaze meets yours and you're so tempted to kiss him. It's an impulsive thought but it's not really all that surprising.

"You want to kiss me" he gently teases and you swat his arm playfully. He really could read you like a book, even now.

"Please, as if. I know I'm not your type anyway. I've seen the girls you've hooked up with" Eddie is quiet for a second and that startles you, he's never quiet. He's always on the go and running his mouth about something or other, usually Jason.

"They didn't mean anything. They weren't you" he says the last part so softly that you have to move closer to hear it but you do. Like magnets the two of you move closer and closer...

Then Eddie's lips meet yours and it's... It's everything. It's perfect. Wayne also picks the perfect time to walk in and you and Eddie break apart.

Wayne smiles when he sees you, "Well hi there honey, haven't seen you around in a long time" it has been a while and you feel an ache deep in your bones. You've missed being here, it's one of the places that feels like home to you.

"I've missed it, being here" you admit to him and Wayne smirks a little bit.

"Mmm, someone else has missed you around here too" he nods to Eddie who glares at him.

"Yeah thanks for that old man" Wayne shrugs looking like he's trying really hard not to laugh and invites you to stay for a little while longer.

When he's busy with setting up some dinner Eddie leans into you and whispers in your ear.

"I do miss you" his voice shakes a tiny bit and his big brown eyes are full of tenderness. It's taken a lot for him to admit it and you take your hand in his.

"Ditto"

💌🎀💓

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson angst #enemies to lovers #eddie munson imagine

[chouettecrivaine]

Ah, Young Love! [Our Life: Now & Forever]

Fandom: Our Life: Now & Forever

Characters: Qiu Lin, Tamarack Baumann

Notes: takes place during Step 1, so he/him is used for Qiu as that is how he identifies at this point in the story!

So anyway I'm obsessed with how everybody wants Qiu but Qiu only has eyes for MC once they meet so I'm thinking about his silly little boyhood crush. And then I couldn't leave best girl Tamarack out of the love fest so here's just a few little things I was thinking about with them having childhood crushes on u <3

Note that only the demo is publicly available and I am not currently a patron so anything here that is proven true is coincidence and anything proven false is just me having a little fun

Qiu Lin

So like. I've seen Qiu call you pretty twice in the demo. Once when you meet him if you choose to call him pretty first, and again towards the end of what's available in the demo when he's listing off reasons why you should be allowed to join the club..

I just think that whenever he talks about you he always has to let it slip that he thinks you're cute. "They had on a really nice hair clip today!" "Their hair looked so cute when they took off their hat at school." "When I picked them up to walk to school, I was so surprised at how pretty they looked!"

When he told his parents about you he probably said "this really pretty kid surprised me in our yard and we went on a miniature adventure!"

Also (and note that my MC uses she/her so im gonna quote him using gendered terms but only for this one instance) When he's introducing you to one of his friends, he starts off with your name and says "she's a girl!" (Or whatever terms you have set)

So I just think he says the most basic facts about you with so much awe and wonder 🥺 like you wore overalls to school? He talks like you invented denim. You had a funny comment or joke? It's like he's never heard one before in his life when he retells it.

I feel like…the first thing that makes him interested in you is that you're new. Not only does this make you fun to mess with, but it makes you far more interesting than the people he's known his whole life. Plus you, unlike Tamarack, don't immediately brush off the cool things he wants to show you or do with you if it isn't immediately your cup of tea.

Darren and Baxter are sick and tired of hearing your name !! If you're not around Qiu wonders aloud at least once if he should or should've invite(d) you. If he did invite you and you had to decline, then he wonders what you're doing.

The type of kid to skip out on his weekend chores at home and go to your house to help you unpack instead

Ok so MC says they used to live in an apartment, right? Probably in the city? And MC was only allowed to play on their own because Golden Grove is "a safe neighborhood?" What if MC doesn't know how to ride a bike. What if Qiu teaches them…

Whether you get a hang of it or not, he daydreams about doing that thing where he rides the bike and you sit backwards on the seat or on the handlebars or something

When he finds out you can't ride a bike, he definitely shows off by riding around without his hands on the handlebars.

Will teach you how to jump off the swing set too, then will have competitions over who can swing the highest and leap the farthest

I feel like Golden Grove has a cute little main street with a bunch of locally owned shops. If you're interested, he'll show you every. single. business. Even if most of them are "granny shops" he isn't interested in. He'll let you poke around for a bit :)

He has a special page in his notebook for all the little notes and doodles about you

If you look closely at the note he gives you after class, you can see the remnants of a few tiny little hearts that he erased!!

Going back to him offering you to ride on his bike: he probably got you in trouble once because you were on your front lawn and he rode up asking you to go on an adventure with him on his bike. You're expecting a fun little 20 min ride through the walkable path in the woods that'll have you back home by dinner. Instead he takes you to town and buys you ice cream and the two of you have to struggle your way back up the hill on foot and it takes like an hour and a half to get back and your mom was worried SICK

Buys a pack of pens with one/some of your favorite color(s) and writes you notes exclusively in that/those ink(s)

If you and your mom go somewhere and he knocks on your door while you're out, you will come home to see him sitting on the steps to your front porch and waiting for you

Before class starts, he always gives you a funny face or a wave. If you come in late because of a doctor's appointment or something, naturally a lot of the kids turn to look at your entrance, and he immediately waves at you. Maybe even says hi to you out loud if he knows Mrs. Murray is in a good mood / he can get away with it.

If he finishes his work early or something, he'll turn around in his seat and just watch you from across the room with major heart eyes. He smiles wider and waves when you notice.

Anything you compliment him on, he immediately draws attention to around others. Say his hair looks good today? He'll hit you with a "oh but not every other day?" but then tell his seatmates about what you said.

Buys extra portions of his little snack bags of chips and candy or whatever he likes when he can so that he can give them to you during lunch.

Gets on a kick and will pester you about having a secret handshake until you let him come up with one. He likes having special things just you and him 🥺

Probably invites you to his hideout at a specific time and day every week and he gets soooooo excited for that time to roll around.

Tries extra hard in your favorite subject, even if it's one he hates. He's not trying to be top of the class, but he doesn't want you to think he doesn't care about something you care about!

If you like a class he's terrible at, he'll ask for your help! Or, if you struggle in a class he's good at, he'll volunteer to help you out even though he HATES the concept of doing extra schoolwork. That's how much he likes u

He'll do this with any windows but especially if one of your bedroom windows faces his: he will definitely pull a Taylor Swift in "You Belong With Me" and write notes for you guys to read to each other

Since he can't sit with you, he'll write you notes or make you doodles and then pretend he has to get up to sharpen his pencil so he can pass your desk and slip it to you

Tamarack Baumann

Tamarack will straight up just stare at you 👁👁

She follows you around like a lost puppy and visibly brightens up when you're around

Looks forward to school because she gets to sit next to you all day! Like she'll skip happily along the path with you and Qiu and you'll ask her if she's looking forward to all these things and she'll just go "No!" and when you finally give up and ask why she says "because I get to spend the whole day next to you!"

When she goes to play in the woods, sometimes she'll spend a while in the shallower end of the tree line waiting to see if you'll come outside and play with her

Has definitely thrown sticks and pebbles at your back door to lure you out before she gets bored

Likes to go around and pick up the coolest rock, the prettiest flower, the biggest piece of tree bark, a leaf the size of her head…then before she goes home for the night, she stops by your house and gives what she picked up to you!!

If you're not home then she leaves it on your porch with a note, usually held down by a rock if it's not something heavy 

She'll be over the moon if you give her cool rocks and stuff you found. Even if you're literally giving her trash, like if you ONLY give her bottle caps or pop tabs you find on the sidewalk, she cherishes them. Would make jewelry out of them tbh

Ok so quick tangent but there's a book I read in about 4th grade called Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli, and in it the love interest girl is the quirky type. One thing she has is a little decorative cart on her dresser which she puts rocks in every time she's happy and takes rocks out when she's sad. When the protag goes to her house and finds out, she explains how she has put the most rocks in it since meeting him. They kiss sometime after that and she puts another rock in and tells him about it. I think Tamarack would have a jar or a doll house bathtub and she would do the same thing, putting rocks in it when she's happy! So what I'm saying is give her plenty of rocks so she can exclusively use MC rocks for that 

Also will make matching jewelry for the two of you without even stopping to think if you even wear what she's making. She'll buy kits to make special rings and headbands, braid a million friendship bracelets out of multicolored string, use acorns she found to make earrings…anything! She is just as happy if you wear it then she is if you buy a jewelry display stand and show them off in your room. Eventually she adds keychains into the mix for some variety

Doesn't mean to spend a lot of her time waiting on you but she does. On weekends, instead of going directly into the woods, she'll just lie on her back in her yard and stare up at the clouds, completely still, daydreaming (about you) until she hears your door opening. Then she runs to you.

If any of your windows are open, particularly your bedroom window, she'll send a bunch of paper airplanes your way. Most of them make it! However, you've learned that if you find even one paper airplane inside, you're going to have to check that side of the house for more scattered on the ground

Grips onto your arms or your clothes whenever she can. You two are connected.

Makes a BIG effort to like anything that you like as much as you do! And when she follows you around, it doesn't really matter if you're doing something she doesn't care about. She just wants to spend time with you! It does make her whole week if you follow her into the woods, though.

She doesn't take notes in class, but you leave a writing implement out for her and sometimes she'll reach over and doodle a cute bear or something on your paper :)

If you say you're cold, she'll give you her scarf, no questions asked. Is also down to share but don't let her do that while you're walking because it WILL end badly 

Has wrapped the scarf around the two of you and tied you guys together before and yes it was the best recess of her life 

When walking, she tends to lean into you which sometimes almost turns into pushing you and Qiu into the road if you're not careful

Likes to drag you around places and pretty quickly invites you to her house. She doesn't tell her grandparents that she's inviting you over, so they're surprised by you almost every time, but they don't mind! She's dragging you up the stairs to her room too quickly for them to say anything anyway

#our life now and forever #our life now & forever #our life #qiu lin x reader #tamarack baumann x reader #qiu lin #tamarack baumann #☆ qiu lin #☆ our life #☆ olnf #☆ tamarack baumann #🐚 capricorn ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+{hcs} #🌠 pisces ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+{all writing}

[klausysworld]

“In certain situations, like when he knows you’re trying to make him jealous or when one of you is particularly needy, he will just fuck you in the nearest secluded area with a hand over your mouth to muffle your pleasured screams.

Sis I just love the recent NSFW POST of yours! This concept had me 😧😧😧🥵🥵 Can you write something like this whenever suitable?

All his

Klaus had made me go to this ball thing, something about a truce with the factions and Elijah saying we all had to behave.

Rebekah had me dressed in a tight blood red dress that hand a high slit in the leg going right up my thigh. It pushed my tits together perfectly leaving no need for a bra, this however caused my nipples to show a little through the fabric. Sometimes that clashed with Elijah’s rules of our ‘best behaviour’

So there i was making my way through the crowds of people to Rebekah and Hayley

“Klaus seen your outfit yet y/n?” Hayley asked trailing her eyes down my body as she handed me a glass of champagne, Rebekah smirked as i did a little spin to show how it squeezed my hips

“you don’t think he’ll like it?” i asked with a fake pout on my face

“oh he’ll like it…just not when there’s a hundred other people also eyeing you up” she said gesturing to the hungry eyes watching my movements

“he can’t yell at me till later, may as-well have fun” i grinned and took their hands as we made our way to dance

The ball ended up being a little more…club like by the time Klaus had actually decided to join the room. His brows furrowed as he approached a clearly unamused Elijah

“why are there strippers dry humping each other in our house?” he asked confused

“it would seem our sister, Hayley and Y/n decided to…’spice things up’ as they put it.” Elijah air-quoted with a tight lip smile

“Y/n’s in there?” he laughed not really thinking you would be so bold

“mhm right in the middle. Just over…there….” he pointed to Klaus’s lover, he turned back to see if Niklaus could spot you but found he was already marching his way though everyone

“Y/N!” i could faintly hear my name being yelled over the music and i looked around, my eyes met Klaus’s dark angry ones and i gulped, Rebekah pushed me and called a “good luck” as i made my way to him. Just as i got to him someone grabbed my hand and spun me making me gasp, hands were on my hips and i was pulled right against someone. This someone was not Klaus. I tried to pull myself away but he wouldn’t let go, he put a harsh kiss to my neck and before i could react i was ripped out of his arms and was being hauled out the room.

I was shoved into the bathroom and a hand gripped my jaw

“how. dare. he.” Klaus spat as he glared at the mark left on my neck. His eyes bled into gold, veins covered all under his eyes as a possessive growl sounded in his throat

“i- i didn’t think that would happen i swear” i spoke in a pleading tone hoping he wouldn’t think i had the intention of being touched by anyone else, marked by someone else

“i know, it’s just unfortunate you have to suffer because of someone else’s actions” i went to ask what he meant but his fangs in my throat wouldn’t allow any words to form. He wasn’t gentle like he normally was. His hand on my jaw was tight and he gulped my blood down hungrily, i could feel my skin tear open slightly when he pulled his mouth away. His tongue lapped at the blood that dripped now me

“You. are mine. Why do people not know that for fucks sake” his tone was dangerous and low, i felt my underwear stick to me as i dampened them. Quickly he picked me up and sat me on the sink, he yanked my panties off and spread my legs as wide as the dress would let them. Immediately two of his fingers were sliding up and down my folds making me jump and grab onto his arm

“you’re fucking soaked” he told me and shoved his fingers in my mouth. I sucked them after a second and swirled my tongue over them. He pulled them out and grabbed my face again. I looked at his predatory eyes before he pulled me to him and forced his tongue into my mouth, he kissed me in a rushed aggressive manner leaving me no time to try catch up as he dominated my mouth.

“put your legs around me” he ordered still swallowing my tongue. i complied and wrapped my legs around his waist, our bodies flush against each other. I wound my fingers into his hair trying to keep up and his teeth clashed against mine, he bit into my bottom lip and sucked at the blood that began pooling, i gave a surprised moan in response.

I felt his hands leave my face and the sound of a belt hitting the floor, i tried to pull away to see when he was doing but a hand was brought to the back of my head pushing me into him. A second later i felt his swollen cock at my entrance, he pulled me off the sink and thrust up into me, i gasped and then moaned and he went straight into a bruising pace. I was slammed against the bathroom wall as he moved at an inhuman speed. He pulled away from the kiss and started to suck as many marks into my neck as he could. His hands gripped my hips as he pushed the skirt of my dress up.

My mouth hung wide open as my walls clenched continuously around him, strangled sounds escaped me while i pulled at his hair, he grunted and then tore the skirt of the dress off of my body completely and threw in on the floor

“Tell me Y/n, what did you expect to happen when you had your tits on full display?” his thrusts became deeper and even more forceful hitting somewhere overwhelming inside me, a scream sounded through the room as tears ran down my cheeks

“im sorry! im sorry klaus im sorry” i sobbed with my face in his neck hiccuping back my cries of fulfilment, my limbs went limp against him, i tightened around him more than i ever had before

“fuck there’s a good girl huh? All fucking mine.” i nodded helplessly, the waves of bliss crashing through me repeatedly while he continued to fuck me. He groaned and grunted into my ear, the sound of our skin meeting and our content noises drowned out the sounds of the party still happening in the next room.

“i need- klaus…can i-“ i moaned before i could ask but he knew what i wanted as a thumb was on my awaiting clit rubbing harsh and fast circles. I lifted my head and pressed my mouth back to his as i let the feeling inside of me snap. We both moaned lowly into each other, i milked his cock for the next few moments while he carried on moving inside of my walls slowing down gradually to ride out both our highs.

“Alright y/n, alright. Come here, i’ve got you” he lifted me off of his cock and carefully lowered me onto my heeled feet making me wobble slightly.

“take them off for me love” i glanced at him and saw him fully kick his trousers off away from his ankles and i realised we weren’t finished. I slipped out of the heels and looked up at him, he groaned as he studied me, i had grip marks on my thighs, hips and neck, the only thing i was wearing was the top part of what was once a dress and even then it barely did anything, my nipples were hard showing through and they were only just covered anyway especially from being fucked against the wall, my breasts had almost bounced out. My mascara was down my face, my hair messy and my upper body littered in hickeys.

“bend over the sink” his voice was monotone and although it somewhat scared me i could still feel my clit pulse and slowly made my way back to the sink, i got a grip on the sides of it and bent myself over

“legs apart and arch your back for me”

“okay..” i whispered nodding and followed his directions

i felt his warm hands on my shoulders as he massaged them for a moment, he pushed his finger into the top of the dress at the back and pulled ripping it down the middle, i inhaled nervously as it fell to the floor and he traced my spine

“Relax love, you know i wouldn’t harm you” i nodded and flexed my fingers before getting a better grip as i let my eyes fall closed. He took his length into his hand and pumped himself a few times before carefully pushing into me from behind.

I moaned out and pushed my ass back against him taking him all the way. One arm wrapped around my waist and held my hip while the other applied a pressure on my back to keep it arched. He began with slow but jarring movements, seeing just how deep he could hit in this new position. I clenched around him a few times making sure i was comfortable as guttural sounds vibrated through me.

Quickly he lost all sense of sense of control and began thrusting with his combination of vampire and werewolf strength. I let out heavy moans as he repeatedly smashed into just the right spot. His grip on me got tighter as he bent over with me so his chest touched my back and grunted into my shoulder

Suddenly there was a knock at the door and his hand was held over my mouth. He squeezed my face in his hand and fucked me even harder, my moans coming out as muffled cries as i rocked my body back and forward to meet his movements

“someone in there?” Klaus dragged his teeth to my earlobe as someone spoke from the door

“should we let them hear how much you love me fucking you from behind?” he whispered gruffly as his other hand found my clit and i screamed into his palm.

“scream my name” he demanded as he removed his hand and buried his teeth back into my neck, he released deep inside me as i fluttered and throbbed my cum going all down my legs that nearly gave out beneath me when i cried out his name over and over.

Gasps were heard from the next room but all i could focus on was the full feeling of him still inside me as i whimpered. He thrust a couple more times before pulling out, his fingers stayed on my clit as they continued to rub fairly quickly. My legs buckled but he kept my body up as he played between my thighs still draining my neck. I began to feel dizzy, my next orgasm taking over far too quickly as electric shocks went straight to my core. My clit was on fire while i kept moaning his name. His teeth left my throat and he latched his mouth to mine in a desperate kiss. He swallowed around my tongue and explored my mouth, again. My sounds didn’t falter despite him trying to drown them, I felt the tension inside me break again and i sobbed at the overstimulation. I ached and closed my legs as soon as his fingers left me alone.

He lowered me onto the floor and i led into a foetus position. I could hear him putting his clothes back on before returning and petting my hair

“i don’t want anyone to see me naked” i whispered and he nodded kissing my head

“nobody but me will ever see you like this, i promise you i would never let that happen” He came down onto his knees and sat me up. My arms were put into his jacket sleeves and he did up the front buttons. Gently i was lifted into the bridal style carry, the jacket nearly went down to mid thigh and he tucked my head into his neck

“you did so good for me sweetheart you know that?” i whined and tugged the blazer further down my legs, he put his hand just below my ass so nobody would be able to see up and exited the bathroom, he made his way to our room with a fast pace. I could hear Hayley drunkenly cheer and Rebekah laughing sluggishly

He locked the bedroom door behind us and slid us both under the covers

“you’re all mine y/n, i love you too much to let anyone else have you”

“all yours promise”

#klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson one shot #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x y/n #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus mikealson fanfiction #niklaus imagines #niklaus mikaelson #klaus m #klaus michaelson #klaus mikealson smut #tvd klaus #klaus mikaelson x yn #klaus mikealson x reader #klaus mikaelson x oc #tvd universe #the vampire diares imagine #elijah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #kol mikaelson #marcel gerard #freya mikaelson #hope mikaelson #the originals #klaus mikaelson yandere #klaus mikaelson headcanon #dom/sub #klaus smut #klaus fluff #the legacies

[coco-loco-nut]

Book Club - Part 4

Pairing: Lance x Reader, Grid x Reader

Summary: no spoilers 😈

A/n: I’m not ready to let them go, so send in book club requests so we can keep the club going 🥲

requests are open 🗣️ masterlist

—————————

“Nico, when did you ask your wife to marry you?” you dangle upside down on his couch, just chilling and asking for life advice, similar to how the book club started.

“When I knew the time is right and she was the one. Are you second guessing Lance?” he asks, sitting in a chair beside you. You are both in your racing suits, ready for the upcoming race.

“Not necessarily, it’s just that we’ve been together for so long, and god I really love him. You could ask me to marry you right now and I’d say no, that’s how down bad I am,”

“He’s your pookie,” Nico says, smiling proudly at using slang.

“Hell yeah,” you high five him. “I know he wants to marry me, I just wish he’d propose,” you groan.

“Have you talked to him about it?”

“Never, ever, ask a girl that. And the answer is no. I just- I don’t want to rush him. I know Lancelot, and he’s gonna want to make it perfect, so I don’t want to make him feel rushed,” you explain and Nico nods.

“Well then, in an alternate universe, I have already asked you to marry me,” Nico says, trying to comfort you.

It’s true, on Earth 2, you and Nico are closer in age and married.

“God, I can only hope,” you grin at the Haas driver, moving to sit normally.

“Don’t worry about it, I see the way he looks at you, it’s only a matter of time,” Nico reassures you.

“Thank you. You really are one of my closest friends. Our little club is my family,” you tell Nico who pulls you into a hug.

“We always will be. Competitors on the track, family off the track,” Nico says as Kevin walks in.

“Y/n, you okay?” Kevin asks, sitting on the other side of you.

“I’m okay, just a little in my bag, probably about to start my period or something,” you wave Kevin off.

“Okay, well you are basically our grid daughter so if there is anything bothering you, let me know,” he gives you a small hug.

“Guys, stop, you are gonna make me cry for real,” you tell them, a little laughter in your voice.

“Alright, go crush this race,” Nico says, walking you out of Haas. You head back to your garage, feeling a lot better than you did before.

Little did you know, was you were venting to Nico, Lance was panicking in front of Fernando, Lewis, and Valtteri.

“What if she says no? Oh my god, she will finally admit that she actually despises me and barely tolerates me,” Lance paces.

“Mate. I don’t know if you noticed, but she looks at you like you hung the moon and the starts. You look at her like she is the thing that makes you live and breathe. You will be ok,” Lewis quotes the song he wrote based on the book you selected.

“Really?” Lance stops his pacing, his eyes shining happily.

“Yes, you two are insanely love sick, it is cute,” Fernando says, amused at the Canadian.

“Just ask her when she wins, she will be too excited to say no,” Valtteri says, Lewis and Fernando gasp, as well as Lance.

“That’s not nearly romantic enough,” Lance groans.

“We arranged for a romantic track walk and picnic at turn two, here is a book with a hole in the pages. When she opens it, eso,” Fernando says, confirming what they had been working on.

“It took a little convincing the FIA, but we did it,” Lewis says. Lance visibly relaxes, a lot of tension releasing.

“How can I repay you for this?” Lance asks, a little overwhelmed, but very grateful for their help.

“Take care of our grid daughter, make sure she is happy for the rest of her life,” Valtteri says simply.

“Hey guys, sorry we are late,” Daniel walks in with Checo.

“What did we miss?” Checo asks, sensing the odd atmosphere.

“Just giving Lance permission to marry our grid daughter,” Lewis tells them.

“Did you ask Kimi?” Daniel asks, the whole grid knows how close the two have gotten. You don’t have a great relationship with your dad, similar to Max, so Kimi has easily filled that role.

“He was the first person I asked, then I asked Kevin and Nico since she is really close with them,” Lance nods, knowing you are probably with them.

“We will be out there taking pictures, don’t worry,” Valtteri reassures the young Aston Martin driver.

“Amigos, it is race time,” Checo says, leading everyone out to the track. Lance spots you with Logan.

“Yeah, you can totally join, I’ll give my copy of this weeks book since I finished it. Just don’t tell the other non-club drivers,” you tell the American. You have gotten closer with him, seeing how excluded he is from some other groups in the Paddock.

“I’ll see you later, thanks for being a good friend,” Logan says, squeezing your shoulder gently.

“Hey, Lancie,” you grin, pressing a small kiss to his lips.

“Hello, love. Are you excited for our date after the race?” Lance asks, his hand resting on your waist, his warmth blocked by your fireproofs. You chat until you reach your respective destinations.

“Good luck, I’ll see you when I overtake you,” you tell him, and he returns your sentiments with a laugh.

You end up placing P4 after pushing the car harder than you ever had before, so you were extremely pleased. After a shower, media responsibilities, and debriefs, you change into a sundress and fix your hair. Lance meets you outside the motorhome, looking handsome in a button up and dress pants.

“You look so hot,” you tell him, jaw dropped a little. 10/10 girls would agree that the only thing hotter than a guy with a baby or small animal, is a guy dressed up in a well fitting suit.

“You look cuter,” he kisses you sweetly, grabbing your hand as he leads you through the paddock to the track. He told you about the track walk after weighing in. The grid helped him set up the date spot while you got ready. Your breath is taken away a bit when you approach turn two. There are fairy lights hanging from the fence and a blanket with a picnic basket on the track.

“Lance, this is incredible. How did you set it up?” you ask him in awe. The clear night sky lets stars shine bright above you.

“The grid helped, especially Fernando, he’s a big romantic and really liked the idea,” Lance admitted shyly.

“It’s perfect,” you take his hand to assist you in sitting down. Lance sits beside you, offering you a snack from the picnic basket. Conversation flows easily between you, talking about anything and everything except for racing, the one topic always off limits on date nights. Lance reaches into the basket and pulls out a book.

“I got you a little something,” Lance says, pushing down his nerves. Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see the grid popping out of their hiding spots in the grass area.

“I do love my books,” you smile, taking the book from him. As you usually do, you flip through the first few pages, pausing when you see a ring taped to the third page.

“I had a big speech planned, but will you let me make you happy for the rest of your life and make me happy the rest of mine by marrying me?” Lance asks and you can only nod as tears start flowing. You launch yourself into his arms, holding him close.

“I love you so much,” you whisper and he holds you tighter.

“I love you more,” he says. You pull away slightly and kiss him. Lance carefully removes the ring from the book and puts it on your hand. It’s simple yet stunning, absolutely perfect for you. You both look at the grid when they start cheering and hollering.

There is a social media intern for Formula One somewhere in the group who captured the whole thing on video, Fernando paid her under the table for it and he hid another camera and microphone on the wall of the track. He knew the guys would only remember to get pictures.

You take your time thanking each driver and hugging them, you really tear up when you see Kimi there.

“Congratulations, you raced so well today, I am very happy for you,” Kimi actually hugs you, if there wasn’t photo proof from Lando and Daniel, who’s jpg accounts broke the news of the engagement (you wouldn’t want it any other way), people wouldn’t believe it.

“Thank you. Wait, you said you weren’t going to be here for the race!” you gasp, looking at him a little betrayed.

“If you knew I was here, you would insist on getting dinner with me instead of going on a date,” Kimi shrugs, a small knowing smile on his face. Not only is he basically your dad now, he has been mentoring you a few times a week, even hopping in the sim once in a while.

“You’re right. I’m just glad you approve,” you smile as Lance wraps an arm around your waist.

“He was the first person I asked,” Lance kisses the side of your head.

“Wait, I thought we were the first,” Kevin says, looking at Nico.

“As long as she’s happy, I’ll get over it,” Nico jokingly mourns his loss of you.

“The ring is gorgeous,” George says, inspecting it. He is the babygirl of the group.

“Alright guys, let’s leave the happy couple alone,” Logan says, Lewis helping him herd everyone away from you and Lance.

“This may have been the most perfect day ever,” you sigh happily.

“Only because I am with the perfect girl,” Lance grins at you, holding you close as a blush covers your face.

“Shut up,” you giggle, pulling him down onto the blanket with you. He holds you in his arms for a few minutes before you yawn.

“Let’s get you back to the hotel,” Lance chuckles, helping you stand up. He is grateful that his assistant is taking care of the cleanup and your assistant packed up your drivers room for you.

“Mhmm, I need cuddles ASAP,” you yawn again, thankful for everything the day has brought you and that the hotel is close by. When you get back, it doesn’t take too long for you to crash.

“How did I get so lucky?” Lance whispers, pulling you close to him. Your steady breathing lulls him to sleep.

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #checo perez #daniel ricciardo #f1 grid #f1 grid x reader #george russell #kevin magnussen #fernando alonso #valtteri bottas #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll #lewis hamilton #nico hulkenberg #kimi raikkonen

[waywardducks]

Incorrect bat family quotes but as things me and my sibling have done/said.

Jason: *just trying to read* *feels an eery presence just watching him.*

Damien and Tim: *both just starting at him*

Jason: Yes? Can I help you?

Tim: Slushies

Jason: okay?

Damien: Take us to them.

-✨✨✨✨✨✨

Dick: *Chilling in his bed*

Cass: *very slowly opening the door to his room*

Both: *just stare at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time*

Dick: Please, child. What is it? I can't handle this suspense.

Cass: *quietly* I have a pool party today…

Dick: okay? I'm glad for you.

Cass: …

Cass: Can you go buy me tampons?

Dick:

Dick: Of fucking course I can go buy you tampons! *already jumping out of bed* What size?

-✨✨✨✨✨✨

Damien: *angry, slamming doors, punching walls, screaming at everyone*

Tim: Autism is one hell of a bitch

Dick: Tim, no

Jason: No, no, he's got a point. We really should get him checked out.

Damien: I CAN HEAR YOU

*he was diagnosed with autism the following month*

-✨✨✨✨✨✨

Stephaine: *putting makeup on Cass* almost done!

Tim: we need to hurry, the movie is starting soon

Stephanie: It's fine, we have plenty of time, now let me do your makeup.

Dick: What are y'all doing? Why is everything… pink?

Cass: We are going to watch Barbie

Dick: Can I come?

Steph: Nah it's girls night?

Dick: Then why is Tim going?

Steph: He's one of the girls, obviously.

Tim: Yeah, obviously.

Dick: *crying* I wanna be one of the girls too

-✨✨✨✨✨✨

Bruce: Hey, Tim

Tim: Yeah? What's up?

Bruce: Remember how you're therapist mention she thought you might have ASD?

Tim: Yeah, she said she wasn't %100 percent sure on it though.

Bruce: Well she just sent me a document confirming your diagnosis.

Tim:

Dick: Woah dude! Congrats on the tism!

Jason: Welcome to the spectrum little bro!

Damien: Is Dick the only one that isn't ASD?

Dick: *is sad bc he's left out of the club again*

- ✨✨✨✨✨✨

Dick, Tim, Jason and Damien: *driving down the road at 4 in the morning, blasting fnaf songs at full volume* IVE GOT NO TIME!! I've GOT NO TIME TO LIVE

-✨✨✨✨✨✨

Tim: Jason. I'm bi

Jason: Okay

Tim: Okay? That's all you have to say?

Jason: damn Tim, tf you want be to say? Sorry?

Tim: No! I just thought-

Jason: If you have boy problems go to Dick. He's the one with the most experience in that field.

Dick: Hey! I resent that!

Jason: Oh please, you can call yourself straight all you want but you and both know you've what kinda person you were when you first became Nightwing.

Dick: I wasn't gay Jason I was a slut its different.

Jason: sure, okay.

-✨✨✨✨✨✨

I'm gonna make this a series lmao. Being in a house with 6 kids gives you a lot of stories.

Also, yes, 3 of my younger siblings are officially diagnosed with autism. (Damien and my sister are literally the same person. I have so many headcanons about it, it's not even funny. She even has the same insane art skills, I'm terrified of how fast she learned to do things I've been in school for years to learn)

#stephanie brown #batman #bruce wayne #tim drake #dick grayson #dc comics #jason todd #cassandra cain #duke thomas #incorrect batfamily quotes #batfam #nightwing #red hood #red robin #robin

[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. 

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