#and left without a word never to be seen again

[cherriegyuu]

so high school | kmg | part 2

pairing: hockey player mingyu x f!reader  genre: smut (in later part), fluff, a bit of angst, bad attempt at comedy word count: 7.8k summary: when you’re suddenly thrown in Mingyu’s direction, you have no choice but to stay by his side, and maybe it’s not as bad as you think playlist: click here warnings: reader is mentioned to have long hair, mentions of food and alcohol please, remember to comment and reblog, it does mean the world to me and i would love to know your opnions.

< part one >

It had taken you almost two entire weeks to work up the courage to talk to Mingyu again. He had been nice enough not to contact you first. No texts, no calls, and the two times you had bumped into him on campus — aka seen him across the street — he had nodded in greeting, but made no attempt to get closer.

You hated it, admittedly, but you had missed his presence. The annoying texts at inappropriate times, the way he would wave his arm above his head every time he saw you, like he was a kid seeing a friend after a long vacation.

You had no idea how to talk to him. You couldn’t just say haha, I’m sorry I didn’t remember you, even though I saw you every day for two years, you know how it is, right? without sounding like a complete and utter lunatic. And you didn’t even need Jeonghan to pull out his school photo album, which he absolutely did, to rub in your face how completely forgetful you were. The moment Mingyu said the words “she doesn’t remember me”, laughing a little, a somewhat embarrassed by the situation, it was as if the movie of your adolescence suddenly flashed through your eyes.

Every time you had seen him leave the gym, following Jeonghan and Seungcheol closely. At first, he was quiet, just observing everything and later talking to your brother only, and then he was laughing and making jokes along with everyone else. He was obviously loved by his teammates. You remember finding him handsome back then when he was much younger and wore clothes chosen by his mother. You never talked, it’s true, you didn’t even know his name, but you always knew who he was.

How you went from that moment to years later not remembering him, you didn’t know. That was a big mystery, and you had no idea how to answer.

You saw Mingyu leaving the building next to a girl. He smiled and gestured as he talked, clearly excited about the subject at hand. The girl next to him smiled broadly, her body leaning closer to his, despite the clear space between the two of them. She looked at Mingyu as if he had nailed the stars to the sky, as if he was the only reason the sun shone every morning.

You thought about giving up. You were going to interrupt something and you didn't want that, didn't want to draw any kind of attention to yourself, anything more than necessary.

And then Mingyu looked straight ahead, right in your direction. You closed your eyes for a second, forcing yourself to do exactly what you had planned to do from the beginning. Slowly, you raised your right hand in front of your body, at the height of your stomach, and waved. It was a quick and shy movement that you almost didn't want to do.

The smile on Mingyu's face grew huge as if he had seen something that had truly made him happy. He held his arm over his head, swinging it from side to side like a child; you couldn't stop a small smile from spreading across your lips, no matter how hard you tried. 

Mingyu strode across the lawn, the girl he was talking to was left behind, forgotten, calling out his name loudly, but he didn't look back once. She glared at you and you knew, at that very moment, that if you didn't have a single enemy in your life, you had just made one. 

He stopped in front of you, arms crossed over his chest, a smile on his face. It took everything you had to do not to stare at his arms or to keep smiling. 

"Look, who's talking to me, in public" the teasing was clear in his voice. 

"Mingyu" his name came out of your mouth like a warning. 

Even though your tone didn't seem friendly, Mingyu smiled as if having heard a joke. It was almost a losing battle, not smiling while looking at him. You wondered exactly how things had changed, how one day you said "I don’t want to be seen with athletes in public places" to suddenly "talking to an athlete in public and still smiling".

“Sorry.” 

Although he was apologizing, you knew that there wasn’t a single bone, or cell, in Mingyu’s body that felt sorry while he was teasing you.

“I should be the one apologizing. I didn’t remember you.”

That’s why you had looked for him, why you had put all your pride aside and sent a message to Seokmin, asking — in the most delicate and unsuspicious way you could imagine — what Mingyu’s last class of the day was. When he seemed too excited about the whole situation, you didn’t even know that someone could be so excited through message, you were forced to ask him not to tell Mingyu that you had contacted him, because you still didn’t know if you would meet him because you had another appointment at almost the same time and might be late. It was a lie, there was nothing, but you didn’t know if you could trust Seokmin to simply not tell him. 

“It’s okay, I’m sure I don’t remember someone I’ve seen every day for years either.”

You smiled, unable to control it this time, and Mingyu smiled along with you as he took another step closer to you. You knew he was too close, rumors would start spreading around campus any second. You knew you should take a step back, and put more space between you two, you knew you should stop smiling like a teenager. But you just couldn’t force yourself to do anything but stand there. 

“You’re making me feel even worse.” 

“Seriously, it’s okay. I’m not going to use it to blackmail you or anything like that.” 

You wanted to ask him what he could blackmail you with, but that was too close to the line of flirting, and that was an imaginary line you refused to cross with him — even though most of the ones you had set had already been crossed, one by one. 

“Thank you,” was all you allowed yourself to say. 

He uncrossed his arms and shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. 

“Now that you know you’ve been unfair to me, for years I might add, and I’ve been benevolent enough to forgive your mistake, could you please stop making my life difficult and let me do the assignment with you, without me having to beg?” 

You threw your head back, laughing out loud. You wanted to tease him, tell him that he was already begging and pleading, but again, too close to flirting. 

“Benevolent? Ah, a man’s ego.” was all you allowed yourself to say as you rolled your eyes at him. 

Mingyu smiled, lightly bumping his shoulder against yours. 

“Come on, cut me some slack” 

You nodded in agreement, rolling your eyes again. 

“Let’s coordinate our free time and meet up again.” 

“Great.”

“A little green bird told me,” you rolled your eyes before Kira could even continue the sentence, “that you were caught with a certain hockey player.”

“Oh, for the love of God.”

Kira had hooked her arm through yours, her voice cheerful. If voices could have shape and were visible to the naked eye, Kira’s would definitely be bouncing around you. She was almost doing it herself.

You knew someone would have seen you talking, you knew someone saw it and wasn’t happy about it at all, you were sure it was only a matter of time until people were talking about it. You just didn’t think it would be so fast. It had barely been five minutes since you had said goodbye to Mingyu, you knew that that gossip was an inherent part of student life, but the quality and speed were impressive.

“Oh, come on! Tell me what you two talked about, I want to know everything, down to the smallest detail.”

Your friend’s voice was soft, almost like a child whining next to you. Kira knew how much you hated it, more than that, she knew that you would tell her everything, every word, just so that she would finally stop making that pitiful face and that shrilling and completely irritating voice.

“We talked about what I talked about with you,” you sighed, “I apologized for not remembering him, he was annoying and in the end we agreed that I wouldn’t stop him from doing the assignment with me.”

“The little green bird also told me that you were smiling and that you were even blushing while you were talking to him.”

You narrowed your eyes at her. It was true that you had smiled while you were talking to him, you had given up on playing tough. But you were sure that you hadn’t blushed or embarrassed.

“That little bird of yours is wrong. I smiled, yes, but the rest I didn’t do”

“So you didn’t make out in the middle of campus? You didn’t laugh out loud, the kind that makes you throw your head back and close your eyes?”

You simply stared at her, standing in the same place, refusing to move an inch. The student's gossip was fast, impressive, and deceitful.

“Some guy saw you guys and told everyone about it. I was walking by and heard it. They weren’t exactly talking quietly.”

You nodded and started to walk again. You didn’t have anywhere to go, but you didn’t want to stay either. Even if it wasn’t true, you felt like everyone was staring right at you, like you were a circus attraction in the center of the red and white tent.

“Nothing happened. We talked, I smiled, he said something funny and I laughed. That was it.”

It was a little strange that everyone was at your house at the same time. By everyone, you mean Mingyu and Seokmin, who were there to continue the project, and Jeonghan and Seungcheol, the first because it was his house and the second for god knows what — your best bet was that he had come there to see Mingyu, but he could also simply have wanted to see you embarrassed, it was almost like it was his and Jeonghan's favorite pastime.

You hadn't bothered to tell Jeonghan that the two of them were going home with you after class, you were sure that if you had told him and asked him not to be there, he would simply ignore your request. Besides, the rabbit was out of the hat already, there was nothing left to hide. Seungcheol being there was a surprise, but Mingyu knew him too and you figured he had told Seokmin everything.

Seokmin's behavior was surprising. He had greeted Jeonghan and Seungcheol when he came in, chatted with them for a bit, and then sat down at the table with you. You couldn’t help but wonder if Mingyu had scolded him and just how harsh he had been — though you didn’t think Mingyu and harsh were words that went together.

“Sorry about the other day,” Seokmin said. “I was just surprised.”

You shook your head. You had thought a lot about that day, about how you would have reacted in a very similar way if you had run into someone you were a fan of like that, at someone’s house from college. You had been taken by surprise, and that was one of the things you hated the most. You liked to have everything under control, to have all the cards in your hands, to know all the information before actually getting into a situation. You had made a bet by taking Mingyu and Seokmin home, and you lost. That had nothing to do with Seokmin.

“If I were his fan, I would have reacted the same way,” you assured him, not liking that he had become so quiet and introverted. “And look, they love the attention, so you can go as crazy as you want, you have my approval. And if they complain, you can talk to me.”

Seokmin laughed and turned his attention back to the book open in front of him, reading carefully and taking notes in the notebook next to it.

It wasn’t long before Mingyu entered the room too, still laughing a little at whatever he had talked to Jeonghan and Seungcheol about. He seemed distracted as he sat down and took his cell phone out of his pocket, placing it on the table, face down after checking the notifications.

It was impossible not to think about the conversation you had with Kira days ago, the fact that suddenly the entire college believed that you had hooked up because you had only talked for a few minutes. Could it have been gossip that had spread uncontrollably and thus taken on traits that had nothing to do with reality, or had Mingyu, in all his stereotype of dumb athlete and famous for being a womanizer, spread lies around, bragging about something that hadn't happened?

You hoped it wasn't the second option, not when hating someone for simply existing was just so much work, not when you had started to think he was a cool guy, not when every time you got a message from him you felt like an excited teenager seeing signs where there was supposed to be only a black screen.

"There's something I want to know," the voice came from the living room, distant at first, but getting closer with each syllable.

You were sure that this sudden approach from Seungcheol couldn't bring anything good. Especially when he had a cocky smile on his lips, the kind that you knew, just by looking at him, that he was not going to do anything worth of noticing and at any second someone was going to be embarrassed. And, in this case, you were sure that someone would be you.

Jeonghan was right behind him, his eyes showing that he didn’t know what it was about, but seemingly enjoying the whole situation.

“Seungcheol,” his name came out of your lips in a mix of warning and plea.

“When we were in school, you,” he stopped behind Mingyu, his hands on the younger’s shoulders as he leaned forward, “had the biggest crush on our dear youngest Yoon”

You closed your eyes and wished that someone, anything, would hit Seungcheol in the head with all its strength, to the point he would faint and no longer be able to open his mouth to say a bunch of nonsense.

You turned to Jeonghan, who seemed confused by the whole situation — having been completely taken by surprise by Seungcheol's revelations. His eyes went from you, to Mingyu, to Seungcheol, and back to Mingyu.

Mingyu was pale as if he had just seen a ghost, his eyes wide and his hands frozen in front of his body. The pen that was spinning between his fingers had rolled across the table and stopped in front of Seokmin, who was looking at the situation in complete shock.

“Do you still have a crush on her or is that a thing of the past?”

“Oh for the love of god, Seungcheol, shut up.”

Even Jeonghan, who loved a joke, a tease to the very last second, was uncomfortable with the situation. He didn't know where to put his hands or who to look at. Mingyu seemed to want to sink into his chair. Seokmin had his chin glued to his chest, his eyes completely focused on the open book.

“Dude”

Jeonghan slapped Seungcheol on the head, who was just laughing at the situation as if everything was a big joke to him and probably it really was. The only problem was that no one was laughing with him.

“That's a valid question! I'm sure you're curious too”

You pushed the chair you were sitting in back hard, the friction of the metal on the floor probably leaving marks that would be there forever.

“Seriously, what's your problem?”

You grabbed the hood of Seungcheol's coat and pulled him out of the room, while he complained and made a fuss.

“You're strangling me!”

You rolled your eyes.

“At least you'll stop talking shit”

You stopped only when you were close to the door and could reach the doorknob with your free hand.

“It’s just a joke!” he tried to defend himself.

“You don’t have the right to come to my house and embarrass my friends, so if you don’t know how to behave, you can leave.”

You turned your back to him for a second, just long enough to grab his bag from the couch and throw it into his arms.

“You can’t kick me out, it’s not even your house.”

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes.

“Jeonghan?” you said without turning to look at your brother, your eyes never leaving Seungcheol.

“It’s her house, yeah.”

You raised your eyesbrows at him, mimicking him.

“See? Great, you can go now.”

Needless to say, the rest of the night had been pretty close to a funeral. Jeonghan had holed up in his room and you suspected he was either asleep or dead, because he hadn't made a single sound and hadn't come out for anything.

Mingyu didn't even dare to look at you, much less talk with you. A night that was already embarrassing enough because you still had college rumors swimming around in your brain had gotten even worse because, at some point during the night, Seungcheol had decided, in a not-so-casual way, to drop the bomb that Mingyu had a crush on you.

And no matter how much you thought about it, how many ways you tried to analyze and remember those years, it didn't make sense.

You were sure you had never spoken to Mingyu, that you hadn't spoken directly to him before. The first time you talked was a few weeks before, in college. Even if you didn't remember him, you were certain you hadn't of it. You always made a point of staying away from Jeonghan's teammates, your brother made a point of keeping them away too.

That old story, when one doesn't want to, two don't fight. And in this case, neither you nor Jeonghan had any interest in you getting closer to his teammates.

In your head, it didn't make sense. Seungcheol was just talking a bunch of nonsense because he could, because he knew you never had the urge to argue with him. With Jeonghan? Silly arguments were normal, you sent your brother to hell as easily as you fell asleep after a long day. But not with Seungcheol, because you knew he loved the fights, he had fun, you always chose to just let him talk until he got tired. It was one thing to tease you and another one, entirely too different, to do it with your friends.

Logically, you knew that at some point in the past Mingyu had been friends with him too, but you also knew that that friendship had died the moment Seungcheol graduated from school.

Seokmin was the only one who dared to say something, completely focused on the assignment, but it was obvious that he was trying to break the ice of the situation. Trying and failing.

“I think it’s time for us to go,” Seokmin said as soon as he heard the sound of a door coming down the hallway and a second later Jeonghan walked towards the kitchen.

“Yeah, it’s kinda late” Mingyu agreed and stood up.

There was no way to disagree with them, it was late and the mood had gone down the drain. Prolonging the situation would almost be a form of torture for the three of you.

“Sorry about Seungcheol”

You didn’t know what to do with your hands. You wished you had pockets so you could have somewhere to hide them, but the leggings and shirt you were wearing didn’t provide any hiding spots.

“It’s okay, really” Mingyu assured you “He’s always been like this”

Seokmin went into the living room, but you and Mingyu remained standing there, barely breathing. You wanted to ask if it was true, if he really had a crush on you, or if Seungcheol was just trying to annoy someone and chose Mingyu. You also didn't understand what he had said, about Seungcheol “always being like this”. Did he mean annoying or someone who teased his friends with embarrassing secrets? Either answer would be correct but you wanted to hear it from him.

You wanted to ask, but you didn't have the courage. If it was true, it was bad and if it was a lie, it was worse. If it was true, you would feel even worse for not remembering him right away. If it was a lie, it would be bad you had liked to hear, when you knew you shouldn't care.

“I don't know if it's a good time,” he said, “but there's a game on Friday. You could go and take Kira with you.”

You were shaking your head before he could even finish speaking.

“It can’t, I already have a thing already” 

“Oh, okay” he nodded and turned to the living room. “Bye, Jeonghan.” 

Your brother appeared in the living room, putting his phone in his pocket, but looking like he had heard the entire conversation between you and Mingyu. 

“Bye.” 

You closed the door when you saw Mingyu and Seokmin enter the elevator. You were ready to hide in your room and try, even if it was impossible, to understand what had happened that night, but of course, Jeonghan had other plans. He was leaning against the wall in the hallway, his arms crossed over his chest, an inquisitive look on his face. 

“Don’t start,” you warned. 

Everything that had happened, not only that night but also during the week, had simply been too much for you. You had just gotten used to the idea of ​​having Mingyu around, you had started to like having him around. But then everything happened so fast. A laugh on the sidewalk had become an unbridled make-out, a smile a declaration of love. 

The rumors had gotten worse since that first day. Kira talked about them carefully, mainly because she knew you didn't want to be associated with athletes in any way, but she never failed to tell you anything about what was going on. That's only you begged her to tell you, otherwise it would be like in those cliché movies, the girl walking down the hallway and discovering all the rumors that were going around about her because she overheard someone's conversation. 

And it wasn't like you hadn't gotten stares in the hallways, but the truth is that you had gotten used to them when you were still a teenager. Getting into that same skin of an apathetic, uncaring person was pretty easy. 

"Why didn't you accept going to his game? You like it. It would have been fun” 

And on top of that, as the cherry on the cake, because of course life couldn't just make things a little easier for you, there was that whole shit show from a few hours before. Even though you hated the situation with a passion, you knew there was some truth to it. At that moment, you felt, once again, as if you were still 15 years old, sitting in the living room at home, enduring whatever nonsense Seungcheol decided to say.

Seungcheol was the kind of guy who made jokes out of real situations. In that sense, he was the complete opposite of Jeonghan. Your brother came up with impossible situations, bordering on insanity, and spoke about them with such conviction that you felt compelled to believe him. Seungcheol, on the other hand, took small facts and distorted them, or just exaggerated them in some way.

At that moment, sitting at that table, watching Mingyu's face become completely devoid of any color, you knew it was true. Maybe, yes, an exaggerated version of the truth, but a truth nonetheless.

“Jeonghan, it's just… I can’t”

You walked past him. That scene was too familiar and despite the theme of the conversation being different, you didn't want to have to go through the same situation again.

“Because of me?”

“Because of him.”

You hated seeing that look on Jeonghan’s face like he blamed himself for everything that was wrong with you. Daddy issues? Mommy issues? Apparently, you had brother issues.

“You know, one day I hope you stop caring so much about what people think, because you’re barely living your life right now, hoping that someone, someday, won’t care.”

Jeonghan's words floated through your mind for days. You found yourself standing in the middle of the campus several times, analyzing the people who were walking from one side to the other, some in a hurry, others talking to each other, many too distracted with phones in their hands to pay attention to what was happening around them. 

None of them, no matter how much part of your brain said otherwise, seemed to care about you. 

Even though you had been the main topic of conversation for a few days, everything changed when someone on the football team got drunk enough to kneel on a bar table crying, declaring his undying love to a girlfriend from elementary school. You had hidden yourself for so long, away from everything that you considered to be a problem, that you had forgotten how things worked. 

No one really cared — no one might be a little too much to say, but very few people looked at you and cared about what was happening. It was much easier to understand the situation than to start acting differently, but you hoped it was a start, however small it was. 

Your phone started to vibrate in your hand, a second later the screen lit up, and the word mom flashed on the screen. You knew what she wanted. You had been avoiding her calls and messages for a couple days. But you knew you couldn't pretend you were in class anymore, come up with some lame excuse to ignore her. She had even called Jeonghan and asked, or rather ordered, him to tell you to call her. You had avoided it as much as possible.

“Hi, mom”

“Ah, you finally remembered you have a mom”

You could imagine the exact scene: your mother walking back and forth, her hair tied into a low ponytail, gesturing before dropping her hand and slapping her thigh. You couldn't help but smile when you heard the clear sound of footsteps, followed by a slap.

“Sorry, I've been busy. You know how it is.”

“I can always talk to your brother just fine”

You knew she didn’t mean anything, you knew it wasn’t a comparison — at least not a conscious one — but the sentence was received with a sting anyway.

“That’s because Jeonghan has a schedule for literally everything. I study until I nearly blackout or my brain turns to pudding, which ever comes first.”

You walked to nearest bench and sat down with a sigh.

“Have you been sleeping? Eating enough? You and your brother are terrible cooks, and I know he eats at the club most of the time, but what about you? I can come by every week and bring you food, it’s not a problem.”

She kept talking nonstop, you were sure she was already making a list of everything she needed to make enough food for a week. 

“Mom!” you said loudly, loud enough for the girl next to you, who had headphones on, to look at you. You smiled awkwardly, lowering your head a little in apology. “Mom, we’re fine. We learned how to cook enough to survive.”

“Noodles are not a real meal.”

You rolled your eyes.

“We have vegetables, rice, and meat at home, Mom. I went shopping yesterday,” you said before she could say anything.

“One of these days I’ll show up and surprise you.”

“And on that day, you’ll find the fridge full and food ready,” you said jokingly.

You were silent for a few seconds, until she spoke again, this time her tone much more cautious.

“I know you don’t like it very much, that you’d rather be anywhere else, doing anything else, than participating in this, but just this year, couldn’t you consider going to the hospital gala? I know it’s the middle of the semester, that you have a lot of things to do, that you’re looking for an internship, but it’s just one night and…”

Even with all the differences you had with your mother, you didn’t like seeing — in this case, hearing — her begging for anything, much less for your presence at an event that you knew was important to the family. Ever since you started refusing to go to it, your mother never forced you to go. She insisted a little on the first year and asked if you hadn’t changed your mind at the last minute. But never like that. For whatever reason, she wanted you at the party, and by extension, you knew your father did too.

“I’ll go, Mom. I’m going to buy a dress tomorrow.”

Despite the distance, you knew your mother’s breath had caught in her throat, that she was trying her best to control herself. She liked parties and glamor and she liked it even more when you attended. And you liked it too, until… until you decided to avoid it.

You had to start somewhere, this whole thing of not caring what people thought. It was best to start somewhere at least somewhat familiar, right?

“I… set… I have…” she cleared her throat and began again “I made hair and makeup appointments for me. You want me to schedule it for you too?”

Her voice was almost shaking, making you feel even worse. Had you alienated yourself from mother to the point where she was shaking just because you agreed to go to a party?

“Could you make an appointment for a manicure too? I need to get my nails done.”

He walked into the room, adjusting his tie around his neck, laughing at whatever his sister had said, hating the feeling of being suffocated. He wanted, almost desperately, to take off the damn tie, but he knew better than to. His sister would laugh at the situation, but his parents, especially his father, would not be happy about it. It's not like he disliked the event itself, but he hated having to pretend. Pretending that he and his parents got along well and that the smiles they gave when someone complimented Mingyu were genuine. 

It was all completely and utterly fake. 

The truth was that Mingyu barely spoke to his parents. He didn't know when was the last time he had talked to them, just to talk. He didn't know what it was like to ask if everything was okay just because he cared. He didn't know what it was like to send a picture of a place, or anything, to his mom because he could, because he wanted to like he always saw Seokmin do. 

He always tried his best to keep his distance. Maybe being so far away from his parents wouldn't make him feel like a complete failure every time he thought about them. Logically, he knew that wasn't the case, he knew he wasn't a failure, but he was a disappointment to his parents. So he kept his distance, it was easier.

He still attended events like that to keep up appearances, that was an important thing to them. Not having received support, affection, or love from his parents since he was 17? Insignificant compared to the need to maintain the idea of ​​a united and happy family in front of their friends.

In the end, he didn't mind going to events like that, supposedly for charity. He liked seeing his sister and deep down he liked seeing his parents' friends praising him and saying how amazing it was that he had a career completely independent of his parents and even without their help.

Mingyu liked to think that his father had opened up about not having helped him at all in an attempt to seem tough and smarter than his son, but that only made him seem bitter every time his career as an athlete was the subject of conversation. Besides, he could see his school friends again. So it was a win-win situation: his parents kept up appearances and he had fun reminiscing about his school days as if it had been 20 years instead of just 3.

“If you keep pulling that tie, it’ll rip,” his sister said, laughing as she forced Mingyu’s hand down.

“It’s suffocating”

“Oh, you poor baby,” she pouted mockingly at Mingyu.

Mingyu shook his head and turned to the rest of the room, looking for a familiar face. He quickly found Jeonghan and Seungcheol but decided not to approach them as he normally would. If it had been last year’s party, Mingyu would have talked to them both, but this time he chose to stay in the same place.

That night at Jeonghan’s house still left a bitter taste in Mingyu’s mouth. He had a plan, which might not have worked — that probably wouldn’t have worked — but if one day you found out about his teenage crush, Mingyu wanted you to find out by him, and not through some guy who had brought it up for no reason. He wanted to ask you out, to go little by little until you felt comfortable with him. But Seungcheol did him the huge favor of throwing everything out the window for a joke.

It’s like that old saying: I lose the friend, but I don’t lose the joke. And Mingyu wasn’t his friend, not now or back in school, so truthfully there was no loss for Seungcheol.

And then he saw you.

For a second he thought it was a mirage. It had been years since you had last been to that kind of event. Your last one was Mingyu’s first. He thought he was imagining things, that he was so crazy wanting to talk to you that he had started to imagine you in places you weren’t.

He watched as you walked right past Seungcheol, even when he tried to talk to you and stopped next to Jeonghan. Your expression was serious, a little uncomfortable, but beautiful. 

The strapless dress slid down your body, almost as if it had been molded to your curves perfectly, tailored just for you. Your hair was loose over your back, just two strands framing your face. And your lips... lips painted in the sexiest shade of red he had ever seen.

Forget the little crush he had back in high school, this didn't even compare. It was a goddamn waterfall. Mingyu felt like he was standing next to one too with the way his heart was beating so loudly and deafening in his ears. 

It was official, he was lost. He didn't know what to do. It was the first time he had felt this nervous in your presence. Before, it had been like butterflies flying around in his stomach, that kind of fun anxiety, the one that makes one giddy and excited. 

He tugged at his tie again and grabbed a glass from the tray of a waiter who passed by. He didn't know what it was and also he didn't care, he needed something to wet his throat. The liquid went down bitterly, burning. The surprise made him have a small coughing fit.

Suddenly it was as if all eyes had turned to him, including yours. You smiled slowly as Minseo patted Mingyu on the back, trying to help, but making the situation even worse.

You quickly turned to Jeonghan, saying something for a second before walking towards Mingyu. With each step you took, he felt like his heart was beating faster and faster, to the point of almost exploding in his chest.

Over your shoulder, he saw Jeonghan smile and give him a thumbs up.

"Go for a walk," he said to his sister, without taking his eyes off you.

Did he say a waterfall? Forget it, it was more like an entire ocean.

Unconsciously, you smoothed your dress at least twice as you walked towards Mingyu. In a place full of so many theoretically important people, much more important than the two of you, it was very easy to go to him. Taking all those steps wasn't scary at all.

The feeling was completely different from that one time you had talked in college. That day, you had waited for him, your fingers trembling a little because you were in a place where anyone could see you. However, at that moment, you didn't feel any kind of nervousness.

Maybe, there was some nervousness, but the good kind. When you're excited to do something, the kind that you were sure would bring good things. You liked to think that the good thing at the moment was Mingyu.

"You look, wow... stunning."

He smiled and it was as if the breath had been taken from you, as if for a whole second your lungs forgot their purpose, forgot that they were supposed to push air into your body.

“Look at you, using pretty words,” you somehow found your voice again.

You tried your best to hide the nervousness you felt, the slight tremor in your voice. You didn’t know why you were feeling that way. You had seen Mingyu so many times, before and after you found out who he was. You had seen him in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt walking around campus; you were at the bar when he walked in wearing an all-denim look and glasses on the back of his head — you remembered finding that way of wearing glasses ridiculous, but you hated to admit that it made sense on him —, you had seen him walking around with his cap on backward.

You had always made a point of staying as far away from him and the circle he frequented as possible, but you could never deny that he was gorgeous. But there, in that moment, in that a black suit, his tie a little crooked and the most magnificent smile you had ever seen, you thought that maybe you didn’t need to force yourself to be away from him all the time.

“Just to impress a beautiful woman.”

You smiled, even though you tried to contain yourself, pressing your lips together. But you knew it was useless. There wasn't a single cell in your body that didn't like the attention you were getting, that didn't like his compliments.

“You haven't been to one of these in years.”

You nodded and looked over your shoulder. Your mother was chatting animatedly with a colleague, her eyes shining as she held out her hand and a second later your father was beside her.

You had all these differences with your parents, things that you disliked about them, and that made you keep your distance from them, but the truth is that you loved them.

When you arrived at your parent's house to get ready earlier that day, your dress in the bag, your backpack almost falling off your shoulders, it was as if you had been transported to your house 8 years before. But it was also different.

You half expected some comment, anything, no matter how small, that could be a comparison with Jeonghan — how even though he was completely busy with work if he didn't have a game or any specific schedule, he would always go to events, while you did everything to avoid it. But the comment never came.

Your mother sat by your side all day, asking you questions about yourself, about college, about the internship. She never mentioned Jeonghan, and when you tried to mention him, the only answer you got was “I don’t want to know about your brother, I want to know about you.” 

You wanted to cry when you heard those words. It was the kind of thing you laways wanted to hear from her. The confirmation that you didn’t need to be compared to Jeonghan, that it was okay not to live in his shadow all the time. 

“Do you come every year?” 

“Yeah, my mother and sister would forgive me if I missed it.” 

You nodded with a low noise in the back of your throat and took a step forward, your body a little too close to Mingyu’s, your fingers closing around his tie and pulling it slightly to the side until it was aligned with the buttons of his shirt. 

You didn’t know what possessed you to do that. All your sane neurons, which hadn’t melted when he smiled at you for the first time, screamed that you were one step away from insanity, that you were, in fact, already crazy. You were sure that nurses the size of refrigerators would show up and take you to the psychiatric ward of the hospital at any second.

You licked your lips and took a step back, avoiding looking directly at Mingyu. 

“It was the first time my mother managed to convince me in years” you admitted. 

You looked around, looking for a waiter, wishing one would materialize in front of you, just so you could have something to hold on to, but have something to do with his hands, but there was none around. 

“I'll thank her as soon as I see her.” 

“You're a shameless flirt, aren't you?” 

“Only when there's a gorgeous woman in front of me.”

The rest of the night went by smoothly, without any temporary bouts of insanity. There were a few moments, but you managed to control yourself every time. You managed to control the urge you had when you were next to him, to simply hold his hand. 

Your mother was a great help, taking you away from Mingyu now and then to introduce you to some friends and coworkers. Jeonghan was by your side every time you weren't with Mingyu, like a bodyguard. You wondered if he was acting that way because you had said those things to him before; and if your mother's change in attitude was also related. Despite it all, although you had been shown off for part of the night, you had had fun. It could also have been the alcohol talking. 

You had accepted a few more glasses than you should have. You were far from drunk, but you were certainly not in your sanest state. However, the alcohol brought a wave of courage to you, which until then had been completely unknown. 

Towards the end of the gala, after dinner, when some of the guests had already started to leave, you saw Mingyu at the table next to yours. His parents sat in front of him, his sister next to him, and some people you had no idea who they were sat on at the edges. Mingyu kept his head low, nodding now and then. He seemed desperate to get out of there.

Before reason could prevail, you stood up and walked towards him. You placed your hand on his shoulder and leaned your body forward until your face was close to his.

“Can you help me with something?”

You didn't notice the tremor in Mingyu's voice when he asked to be excused because your whole body was shaking too. You smiled at his parents and turned towards the exit, needing some fresh air.

A new wave of tremors and electricity ran through your body when Mingyu put his hand on your lower back. He was neither guiding nor rushing you. His hand was simply there, lightly. He pulled the door open for you and somehow still managed to keep his hand on you. 

You liked it, the weight of it, his presence there.

"Did something happen?" he asked when you were far enough from the door and prying ears, letting his hand drop at the side of his body.

You just shook your head, wrapping your arms around yourself, suddenly missing the warmth from inside. 

"No, you just seemed to be suffering" you half smiled, half laughed, suddenly feeling a little pathetic for assuming things. 

Mingyu smiled at you then, removing his jacket and dropping it over your shoulder.

"Thank you. If it weren't for you, this night would have sucked entirely"

It was silent for a minute, neither one of you doing anything at all. You were simply standing side by side, his elbow brushing yours from time to time while he rocked on his heels. 

It was most definitely the alcohol talking, it had to be because there was no way you'd ever say what you were about to say if it weren't for it. Never, in good and normal conscience you'd have been bold enough. And yet, there you were. 

"Can I ask you something?" 

You turned to him and got a nod as an answer, his eyes expectant and curious. You forced the words out before you had the chance to stop yourself. 

"That day, at my place, Seungcheol mentioned you having a crush on me. Was that true?"

There was a beat of silence, as Mingyu's smile slowly dropped. It was enough to make you regret the question, almost enough to make you regret the whole thing. Seeing Mingyu at the gala was a pleasant surprise, his presence was something you were grateful for during the night. You didn't mean to ruin it at the last minute. 

You blamed the alcohol, though it had very little to do with your decision. You had been curious and wanted to ask Jeonghan about it but didn't dare to do so, not when you knew that your brother would be able to read right through you. 

You blamed Seungcheol and his constant puppy eyes throughout the night, following your every move. His clear apologetic look, though no sorry words were said. His pride was too big for that. 

You blamed yourself too, for being curious about it. You were just fine when he was just a guy from college, someone you'd see now and then in a poster, or someone you heard of in passing. 

You blamed Mingyu too.

"Yeah, it was," he finally answered, sinking his hands into his pants pockets.

Screw it, you thought, if it's raining I might as well get drenched.

"And now?"

You held your breath, waiting for his answer. 

"Still is," he said, voice soft, this almost apologetic smile on his lips. 

You closed your eyes for just a second, somehow lavishing on his answer. There was a small smile on your lips as you turned to him, gripping his tie and pulling him down until you could press your lips to his. 

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[mononijikayu]

immortal sukuna who — in your fourth life (1).

immortal sukuna masterlist

immortal sukuna doesn't remember how old he was, he thinks that he has lost count.

but immortal sukuna was aware that it had been two hundred years since he had met you. that's how he counts how old he was. he was born again when he met you.

it was two hundred years of living and losing for immortal sukuna, but just as much two hundred years of love, of endless devotion.

immortal sukuna had wandered the countryside for the past fifty years, his feet carrying him through lands he once ravaged.

immortal sukuna could not even remember all these places that now barely whispered his name.

but something different stirred in immortal sukuna this time, an unfamiliar weight that grew heavier with each passing year.

immortal sukuna had to be honest that he didn't expect to find you in this life just yet.

when immortal sukuna stumbled upon the scene, his bright red eyes immediately locked onto the sight of you, bound in chains.

he could feel himself shake in anguish, in vexation as immortal sukuna looked at your face bruised and your clothes torn.

immortal sukuna looked at your pathetic, useless waste of air captors as they barked orders at you.

it was a disgusting sight, an outrageous sight, a disgusting sight; immortal sukuna had nothing to describe how they were treating you like less than human.

and though your eyes remained closed, your movements were careful, as if navigating a world you could no longer see. immortal sukuna hated this.

immortal sukuna was shaking as he could feel his feet to rush, to hurry without any other thought.

something in immortal sukuna snapped. in a flash, the men were dead, their bodies left in ruin.

immortal sukuna stood over you, towering and terrifying, yet you showed no fear. not because you couldn't see him.

immortal sukuna's touch was warm on you, and that had allowed you to release the tension and the pain as you squeezed his hand.

you did not know immortal sukuna, you seem to forget in each and every life you meet him.

but something else lingered between you — a familiarity, an old connection buried beneath the years. immortal sukuna knew you felt it.

you felt tears fall from your closed eyes as you relaxed onto immortal sukuna's touch, who tenderly observed your cuts and bruises.

"who had made you in such a state?" he growled, sukuna's voice sharp, filled with barely contained rage. "are there more of them?"

you tilted your head slightly, your face turning toward the sound of sukuna's voice, though your eyes remained closed.

"i… don't know." you whispered back at sukuna, voice hoarse from pain and exhaustion. "i never saw their faces."

sukuna knelt closer beside you, his crimson eyes scanning your form from top to bottom.

sukuna began noticing the way your hands fumbled slightly, how you hesitated with every step, how your eyes, though closed, seemed so lost. so afraid.

to see you like this broke immortal sukuna's heart. you did not deserve to be like this. you were a goddess. one that deserved worship and yet....

"you're blind." sukuna stated, his voice low. his heart breaking over and over at the words he had just uttered.

you nodded slowly at sukuna, the chains rattling with your movements. "i have been for a long time."

immortal sukuna felt a strange pang in his chest. blind. how could fate be this cruel to you? you who had done nothing but good?

you had once seen the world, had once seen sukuna, but now you were trapped in darkness, enduring horrors you didn’t deserve. not ever.

immortal sukuna could feel as though he was feeling the rim of his eyes clog with tears. he can't help it. he grieves. he grieves for him, he grieves for you.

without a word, sukuna reached out and snapped the chains that bound you, the metal shattering like glass under his strength.

you stumbled slightly, not expecting the sudden freedom, and sukuna caught you with a gentle but firm hand.

"who are you?" you asked, your voice trembling, but there was a strange curiosity behind it.

"someone you knew, long ago." sukuna murmured, watching your expression carefully.

you didn’t recoil, didn’t pull away. even without sight, you seemed to sense something in sukuna — something familiar, something safe.

"thank you." you whispered, your voice barely audible. you reached out hesitantly, your hand searching for sukuna's own.

immortal sukuna without thinking, placed his own hand in yours, his large, rough fingers enveloping your smaller ones.

for the first time in fifty years, immortal sukuna felt something he hadn’t felt in centuries — purpose. life.

immortal sukuna didn’t know why he had come across you, didn’t understand why fate had brought him back to you after all this time.

but standing there, your hand in his, your body fragile yet unbroken, sukuna knew one thing for certain.

he would protect you, sukuna would make sure that you would live this life without worry. that you would always smile. even if you can't see him anymore.

and perhaps, just perhaps, you would heal the darkness in him, the same way immortal sukuna had just freed you from your own.

you both will always live happily together, no matter what. immortal sukuna would make sure of it.

even if he suffered over and over again, even if immortal sukuna lives in misery waiting and waiting, he does not care.

what is two hundred years passed, and mayhaps two hundred years more to the eternity of sukuna being in your arms for forever?

these little miseries were the map of sukuna's soul. to get back his soul. you. you who he had been waiting for all this time.

when you fell asleep from weariness in his arms, immortal sukuna lifted you and carried you carefully on his back.

"welcome home." sukuna whispered to you in the quiet, for the first time in fifty years.

[writersmess]

DEATH WISH LOVE | EVAN BUCKLEY

gif credit

Pairing: Evan Buckley x fem!reader

Summary: Buck never thought he could love someone like that. Especially not someone with the same death wish love as him.

Warning: Anxiety crisis, near-death experience, hospital, crying, ansgt.

Word count: 2.5K

a/n: My God, I can't believe it's taken me over a year to get back. I missed this place so much. It's been an intense, crazy year. I finally got my dream job at the best hospital in Latin America. I'm so happy, but at the same time it's demanded everything of me, working long shifts almost every day, but its the price I have to pay. I hope you like this one, it was based on the song Death Wish Love by Benson Boone, which as soon as I heard it I immediately imagined something with our dear Buck. I confess I thought I'd do something angsty, but I don't think I have that capacity, he already suffers so much that I just wanted him to have a happy ending this time.

Masterlist

................................

You were the new firefighter in 118, and also new to the city. In order to follow your dreams, you left your hometown with everyone and everything you knew. You craved for bigger things, you wanted the big city, you wanted Los Angeles.

The team welcomed you with open arms, which was unusual to you. You weren’t used to this or neither known by your affectionate gestures, but apparently everything was an excuse for a hug at the station. It was a bit hard to get used to all this affection, especially when you came from a place where you were always by yourself.

That was one of the main reasons you became a firefighter, you have walked through fire every single day of your life, why not make it your profession?

You were a source of curiosity between the team, always so quiet and so resistant to everyone's affection. It was hard to win you over. Especially because you had a rather difficult personality, you were fearless at work, you weren't afraid to go into the fire to save lives, you did it without thinking twice.

To Bobby you were a cause for concern, and sometimes the reason why he was having trouble sleeping. He knew this personality very well. It was the same one he had struggled for years to learn to deal with, the one he had to fight with so many times, he was very familiar with this death wish love, it was the same as Buck’s.

The blue-eyed man on the other side, couldn't understand why he couldn't take his eyes off you. Ever since you arrived a few months ago, your image has been running through Buck’s mind. You've become a challenge for him. But not in a bad way, he wanted to get to know you, he wanted to understand you. But you didn't make things any easier for him, especially when today was the first time he'd seen you laugh.

"You're drooling" he snapped back to reality when he heard Eddie mocking next to him.

"Shut up" Buck said, turning his gaze back to you playing with his niece.

You had a beauty he couldn't explain, an angelic one. You had this steely gaze and looking at you felt like suicide. He would fall to his knees if you asked him to. How could someone so delicate also be so dangerous?

The way you were reluctant to follow Bobby's orders, you'd walk into the fire without a second thought. You would take risks without thinking about your own safety, just thinking about everyone else. He saw how hard you worked, he saw how mad Bobby got when he ordered the building to be evacuated and you were always the last one to leave. You were intriguing and he was fascinated.

It was so strange for you. Being in Maddie's living room, with everyone gathered together like a big family, laughing and telling funny stories. The team met once a week, with all the families together, the children running around the living room, the smell of food in the air, the voices, the laughter.

You accepted the invitation after a few months of refusing, and now you spent the week looking forward to the moment when you would be together again.

Sometimes when you got home from a meeting, you cried. You cried because you never had that, you never had anyone who cared about you. You were an unexpected pregnancy, your parents didn't planned you, they didn't want you and that was never a secret to anyone.

And that's why you were surprised when one day you arrived early at the station and Hen had a cake for you that you had once said reminded of what your grandmother used to bake.

Or when another one Eddie handed you a drawing that Chris made specifically for you. Of the two of you playing together.

Or when Maddie sent you, through Chim, the cookies you said you loved one day while you were having coffee together.

Or when Bobby invited you to have lunch with him and Athena on a Sunday ‘cause he knew you were going to do it alone.

Or when Buck gave you a book he'd heard you say was your favorite during a conversation.

*

It was mid-afternoon on a Sunday. Your hands were shaking, your heart pounding. The words your father had once spoken echoed in your mind. "You will never be loved". But you were at a table with 118's entire family, and you felt loved. Maddie told you about the gossip from her work. Karen hugged you from the side every time you passed by her. Hen included you in every conversation. Athena calmly answered all the questions you were curious about her work. So why did you feel like an imposter? Why was your father's voice echoing inside your head? Why were you on the verge of an anxiety attack?

"I'll be right back" you muttered to the girls, but you realized how shaky your voice sounded. You were pathetic.

You barely made it to the bathroom, your legs buckled and you sat down in the corner of the room. You could hardly breathe, it was hard to pull in the air. Tears streamed down your face. Your heart was racing. Your hands were shaking.

You heard your voice being called from outside. Damn. You couldn't calm down, your hand was on your chest as if it could make the pain go away.

"Hey, hey. I'm here. Calm down, I’ve got you" it was Buck.

His voice was just a whisper in your ear. You let a sob escape your lips. Pathetic. You felt his arms around you, until you were all wrapped up in his arms. Why was he doing that? Why did he care?

He stayed there until you stopped crying. You were still in his arms, and it was so warm, so safe. Sighs came from your lips, and you couldn't imagine what a mess Buck's head and heart were in. He wanted you in his arms, not just now.

"I'm sorry," you whispered and tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let you, so you stayed.

"You don't have to talk about what's going on in there, but the day you feel like you need a hug to cry into, you've got mine" your eyes filled with tears again. "And don't ever apologize for it"

*

The smiles on your lips were becoming constant. And it was Buck's favorite image. You were letting people through your armor, you were letting your guard down, and it felt good. You now baked pies and cakes for the station on your days off, recipes learned from the girls after a few long afternoons of chatting and coffee.

Your laughter was contagious, and the boys would always crack little jokes to get them out of you.

Your eyes were now looking out for a pair of blue ones, all the time, everywhere. Eyes that were always looking back at you. Your hands were always looking for an excuse to bump into Buck's, just to feel that shiver run down your spine every time. And he would find any reason to text you, until the excuses became routine. You woke up every day with a good morning message and went to bed with a good night one. The little touches now became big gestures, Buck loved to brush your hair out of your face and tuck them behind your ear. And you loved to run your hand over the birthmark above his eye. You loved when his warm lips traveled up your neck to your lips. You loved when his hands ran over your body always so slowly and so gently, bringing goosebumps wherever they went. You loved making love with him. How he worshiped your body, how much he worshiped you. The way he made you feel loved.

You had a hold on Buck, and you didn't even know it. He had become attached to you, attached to the idea of having you by his side. The nights with you were the ones he could truly rest in, the mornings where he woke up to your soft kisses on his face, were the ones he would keep forever in his mind.

But he could feel that you were still resisting his feelings, and he was terrified of losing you. Buck was in love with you. It took months for him to realize that, but he did it. He loved you.

But one thing has never changed. And as Buck followed the loud murmurs coming from Bobby’s office, where he knew you were at, he kept in mind the danger you were in at every call. He couldn't lose you.

"Hey, what happe-" he couldn't finish the sentence when he saw you walking out the door, since you brushed past him, bumping into his shoulder, without even looking him in the face.

Buck made his way to the room, where he saw his captain wiping his hands across his face, letting out an exhausted sigh.

"She'll end up dead if she keep acting like this, Buck"

"I know"

"After the last call, if she doesn't change her behavior, I'll be forced to suspend her."

"I know."

Buck couldn't lose you.

You couldn't talk to Buck yet, you were so nervous after your conversation with Bobby. You were trying your best, how could he tell you that you had a death wish love? You were saving lives, and it didn't matter if it cost you your own. You didn't care.

A new call ecoed through the station. It was something big. A fire in a shed. People were working at the time, so there were many likely victims. You were anxious, just as you were before any call, but you were ready for it. You were born ready.

"Be careful," Buck told you before you got off the truck and you nodded. You were always careful "I love you"

You turned surprised to Buck, you'd never said that to each other before. It disconcerted you.

"Buck, I-"

Before you could say anything, you heard Bobby calling you to give instructions and you had to run.

I love you.

The words echoed in your head as you entered the burning building. No one had ever said that to you. You didn't even know the weight those words carried.

"Sir, follow this path and the fireman will take you to the exit."

It was so hot. You'd already lost count of how many people you'd pulled out of the line of fire. Your head was heavy. It was getting hard to breathe.

"Evacuate the building now," you could hear Cap saying over the radio. Everyone agreed and gave their location. You were about to respond when you heard something.

It was a call for help.

You could have sworn it was a call for help.

"Captain, I'm in the east side, I hear someone screaming for help. I'm close, I can get them out"

"Negative, the building will collapse at any moment. Get out immediately"

Your vision was blurred.

I love you.

You couldn't go out and leave those people to die, so you went ahead. The way to the door was difficult, there was a lot of rubble, and when you opened it, you froze in place.

It was empty. The fire danced in front of you, mocking you. But the cries for help... you've never been so wrong before.

I love you.

“It’s empty” you murmured at the radio.

Bobby was shouting your name from the other end of the radio. You turned around, but it was so hard to breathe. You tried to find your way back, but everything was spinning. Buck was now calling your name.

I love you.

His words were running through your head. Your steps were now slow. The way out, you couldn't find the way out. You could hear the fire laughing at you. Stupid. Pathetic. You heard an explosion behind you, and it threw you off balance, bringing you to the ground. You'd been walking through fire all your life, and now it would finally take its place back. Your siren buzzed in your ears. That would be the end of you.

I love you too, Buck.

The moment Buck came out of the building and didn't see you outside, he tried to go back. But hands held him in place.

This couldn't be happening. No, no.

Bobby called your name on the radio and you didn't answer. It's empty. That was the last answer they got. You weren't answering. An explosion. On the east side, where you were.

Buck's knees gave way, and he went down. All eyes were on the exit of the building waiting for you, waiting for a miracle. But it never came.

Buck screamed, and he would scream until his lungs gave up.

Time seemed to stop. Buck's screams were the only noise to be heard. And another explosion. Tears rolled down trough some faces. No one could believe it. This couldn't be happening.

Buck couldn't lose you like this.

"We found her" some voice echoed over the radio.

Buck's heart could stop any second now.

But the building was collapsing.

He broke free from his friends and ran into the building, dodging all the fallen and burnt obstacles, and he saw you. You were in the arms of a fireman. He ran up to you and carried you out of the building. As soon as you stepped onto the sidewalk, the building collapsed. Buck held you in his arms with all his strength and ran, feeling the debris fly past you.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" was the first thing that came out of your lips when he put you on the stretcher and he shut you up, pressing his lips to yours.

Buck analyzed each of your wounds alongside Hen and Chim and you could see the tears streaming down Buck's face, the ones that were also streaming down your own.

You were still struggling to breathe, every inch of your body ached, and you felt on the verge of losing consciousness. Until you succumbed to the darkness that was calling your name.

*

You woke up a few hours later in hospital. Your hands were being squeezed and you could feel something wet running down over them. Tears.

Buck had his face in your hands, he had never felt so afraid before. And when he heard your voice calling him, it was as if he could finally breathe.

"I'm sorry, Buck, I-I don't know what happened-"

"I almost lost you today"

Your heart broke into a million pieces. You did this to him, your recklessness, your impulsive behavior. It was your fault.

"I'm sorry"

Tears were now streaming down your face and he moved closer, running his hands gently down your cheeks.

"I was terrified of losing you. I'd die if I do."

"I would never leave you"

"Promise?"

"I love you, Buck. And I'll love you to death"

"Please don't let it be soon"

You smiled. No one had ever loved you like that.

"It won't."

[rottenpumpkin13]

I was going to ask for baby Seph changing places with CC Seph because omg baby Seph and Dadgeal and Momesis but then I realised that means CC Seph will go back to the Nibelheim Mansion in the past and uh uh.

Anyway Dadgeal and Momesis for the win.

*Genesis and Angeal are caring for baby Sephiroth, Zack walks up to them and taps Angeal on the shoulder*

Genesis, bouncing Sephiroth on his hip: Can you believe three people have asked me if we've become parents already?

Angeal, shaking a baby bottle: We're just taking care of our friend until he turns back to normal.

*Zack taps Angeal's shoulder again*

Genesis, feeding Sephiroth: So now two men can't care for a child without being accused of being parents?

Angeal: You're feeding him too fast!

Genesis: I told you to make the formula thicker!

Angeal: Nothing I do is good enough for you!

Genesis: Don't spin this around on me!

*Sephiroth is crying*

Angeal, pulling out a toy: Oh no!

Genesis, hugging him close: He's upset!

*Genesis and Angeal start cooing and soothing him*

Zack: I have never been more jealous in my life.

(Meanwhile)

The first few minutes after Sephiroth wakes up in the past are visceral, as there’s only so much confusion and pondering before realization and fight or flight kick in. Several scientists, lab technicians and security guards were caught in the bloodshed, each blurred face no more guilty than the last in Sephiroth’s eyes.

The alarm was triggered, but by then, what could they do? He had already broken free from the caged crib he had woken up in, and one of the men they answered to had already been dealt with. Hojo’s scrutinizing face had been the first one peering back at Sephiroth through the bars, and the first to paint Masamune’s blade red.

He hadn’t seen Gast anywhere, but Sephiroth wasn’t looking for kind people or soothing words. Nothing could mollify or mend the nerves that spiraled out of control the moment he noticed the lab equipment and the assessment photos of his baby faced self staring back at him through the computer monitors around the room.

He had gone back in time, that much he knew. But the logistics of how such a thing could happen or where he would proceed from there would have to wait. Right now he was focused on escaping just as he had wished to do so many times before.

Except this time he was older, stronger, and had Masamune’s hilt in a tight grip in his left hand, a security measure as he kicked open door after door and looked for a way out. He held no memory of this mansion no matter how deeply he searched his addled mind for one. Nevertheless, he opened doors, flew down flights of stairs and ran down hallways all while the alarm blared behind him.

Sephiroth’s vision blurred in and out of focus, his heartbeat reverberating in his ear as a rush of blood prickled his hot skin. He needed to find an exit, a window or even a—

“Sephiroth?”

The slicing clink of Masamune being drawn followed by a woman’s gasp. Sephiroth kept the sword pressed at her neck, his vision sharp as he narrowed it at his target.

And then white noise all around him. Widened, slitted green meeting frightened soft brown. The yellow ribbon in her brown hair, the violet blouse, it was her. It was his mother—looking him up with the same alarm reserved for seeing one’s deepest horrors.

Sephiroth froze, the air caught in his throat, his grip on Masamune slackening. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, his mind fixated on the face staring back at him—a face he had always known, always feared, always yearned for.

"It really is you!" Lucrecia breathed, her voice filled with wonder, though her body remained stiff with disbelief. Her eyes moved over his form like she couldn’t reconcile the image in front of her with the baby she had seen only hours before. "But how—?"

Lucrecia’s expression shifted, her mouth clamping shut as her wonder dissipated into palpable urgency. Her hands came up slowly, one reaching for his sword arm while the other touched his chest—her touch set his skin on fire.

“We have to go. Now.” Her voice was urgent, cutting through the haze, but she didn’t wait for his answer, and didn't allow him to question her. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist as she tugged him forward.

Sephiroth stumbled after her, barely registering the doors they passed, the alarms still blaring behind them.

The elevator doors came into view, and she punched the button with urgency. Sephiroth still couldn’t speak, still couldn’t form the words that clawed at his throat, the tears in his eyes—why were there tears? Hadn’t he always wanted this?

The doubt was immediately shattered as the doors closed behind them. Lucrecia turned, grabbing his hand and pulling him into a protective hug, her fingers tracing his back as she held him close, gently, nurturing. “My son,” she whispered, “what have they done to you?”

And that was what did it for him. His choked cry came as a precedent to the soft sobs. He dropped Masamune, the hilt clattering to the ground and falling into the wall of the small elevator.

The contact was overwhelming, the senses in overdrive.

“It’s okay,” she whispered into his ear, as if one would speak to a child. “We’re going to be okay now. Trust me.”

[cluelessteam]

Whispers Through Time: {~Meeting Daemon~}

A/N: I am so sorry I have not posted chapter 3, I have been really busy with school and had to catch up with all my work since I was really sick last week and missed a bunch of work!

Summary: After being mysteriously transported into the world of House of the Dragon, a modern-day woman poses as a seer to gain entry into the Targaryen court. Armed with knowledge of the future, she secretly warns Rhaenyra and Daemon of looming dangers while hiding her true identity. As she grows closer to both, romantic tension builds, but so do the risks of her deception. With Daemon's suspicions rising and Rhaenyra’s trust deepening, the reader must navigate her lies while trying to alter their tragic fate—before everything unravels.

Characters: Rhaenyra & Daemon

Pairing: Rhaenyra x Fem!Reader x Daemon

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1243

Tag List: @snowtargaryen

Chapter 3 --- Chapter 4

Days had passed since you left the first note for Rhaenyra, and the subtle shift in her demeanor was unmistakable. While she had yet to confront anyone publicly, you could sense her wariness in the way she interacted with those around her. The seeds of doubt had been planted, and though you were relieved that your warning had reached her, the constant danger of being discovered hung over you like a storm cloud.

But it wasn’t just Rhaenyra’s growing caution that concerned you. Daemon Targaryen’s presence had become more frequent, and wherever he went, he seemed to move with a purpose that unnerved you. You had caught glimpses of him here and there—always watching, always listening. It was only a matter of time before your paths crossed again.

And then, one day, it happened.

You had been sent on an errand to deliver herbs to the maester’s chambers, a mundane task that took you through the winding corridors of the Red Keep. Your mind was preoccupied with the next note you intended to leave for Rhaenyra—one that would warn her of a more immediate threat from within her inner circle. As you turned a corner, lost in thought, you nearly collided with someone coming in the opposite direction.

Startled, you looked up—and your breath caught in your throat.

It was Daemon.

The Rogue Prince stood before you, his silver hair catching the light of the nearby torches. His violet eyes regarded you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you thick with unspoken questions. His gaze swept over you, as though he were trying to read your every thought, your every secret.

“Apologies, my lord,” you stammered, quickly stepping back and bowing your head to avoid his piercing stare. Your heart hammered in your chest as you prayed he would simply move on and forget the encounter.

But Daemon was not one to let things go so easily.

“You’re the midwife, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice smooth yet laced with something sharp, something dangerous.

“Yes, my lord,” you replied, keeping your tone as neutral as possible. “I was sent to deliver these herbs to the maester.”

He nodded, though his eyes never left you. “I’ve heard you’ve been quite useful since your arrival.” His words were casual, but you sensed the underlying suspicion. “Unusual for someone to earn such favor so quickly.”

“I only do what I can to be of service,” you said, trying to maintain your composure.

Daemon smirked, his lips curling into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Modest, too. How very noble of you.” He took a step closer, and you instinctively tensed. “And yet, you’ve managed to find yourself in quite a few interesting places around the Keep, haven’t you?”

Your pulse quickened. Did he know? Had someone seen you near Rhaenyra’s chambers? You forced yourself to remain calm, to hold his gaze without faltering. “I go where I am needed, my lord. Nothing more.”

His smirk widened, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course. You’re just a humble midwife, after all.”

The way he said it made it sound like a lie, like he knew there was more to your story than you were letting on. But you couldn’t afford to let him push you. Not here. Not now.

“I should be going,” you said, shifting the basket of herbs in your arms as an excuse to leave. “The maester is waiting.”

Daemon stepped aside, though his gaze followed you as you passed. “Take care,” he called after you, his tone laced with amusement. “The Red Keep can be… unpredictable.”

You didn’t respond, quickening your pace as you made your way down the hall. Only when you were far enough away did you let out the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

That night, as you sat alone in your room, the weight of the encounter with Daemon settled heavily on your shoulders. He knew something—maybe not everything, but enough to make him suspicious. And if there was one thing you knew about Daemon Targaryen, it was that he didn’t let things go easily. His curiosity was as dangerous as his sword, and now, it was fixed on you.

You had to be more careful.

But even as the thought crossed your mind, you knew that avoiding Daemon’s scrutiny wasn’t your only problem. You still had to deliver the next note to Rhaenyra. And this time, it would be even riskier.

The following day, the Keep was buzzing with activity as preparations for an upcoming feast were underway. Servants rushed through the halls, carrying linens, food, and other supplies, while the nobles discussed matters of the court. It was the perfect distraction.

You had written the second note the night before, the words carefully chosen to warn Rhaenyra of an impending plot by one of her closest allies. Slipping the note into the same alcove near her chambers would be tricky, especially with Daemon’s increased presence around the Keep. But you didn’t have a choice.

As you moved through the crowded halls, your mind raced with thoughts of how to avoid detection. The feast provided some cover, but there were more guards than usual stationed near Rhaenyra’s quarters. You would have to be quick.

When you finally reached the corridor leading to her chambers, you were relieved to see that the guards were distracted by a group of visiting nobles. Seizing the opportunity, you hurried toward the alcove and slipped the note into place, your hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline.

Just as you turned to leave, you heard footsteps approaching. Panic surged through you as you ducked into the shadows of a nearby column, your heart pounding in your chest.

Daemon.

He appeared at the far end of the hall, his expression unreadable as he spoke to one of the guards. You held your breath, praying that he wouldn’t notice the note—or worse, see you hiding. For what felt like an eternity, you stayed perfectly still, watching as Daemon scanned the corridor.

But then, as if by some stroke of luck, he turned and walked away.

You didn’t wait to see where he went. As soon as the coast was clear, you slipped out of the shadows and made your way back to the servants' quarters, your heart still racing. You had managed to leave the note without being caught—but just barely.

Later that evening, you found yourself on edge as you worked, your thoughts consumed by the possibility that Daemon was still watching. You had been careful, but how long could you keep this up before he—or someone else—figured out what you were doing?

As you went about your duties, you noticed Rhaenyra in the distance, speaking with one of her advisors. From where you stood, you couldn’t hear their conversation, but you could see the way her hand clenched tightly around the hilt of her sword, the tension in her posture unmistakable.

She had found the second note.

For a brief moment, her gaze flickered in your direction, but there was no recognition in her eyes. You were still a stranger to her, just another face among the many who served in the Red Keep. And yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that, in time, she would come to depend on your warnings more than she realized.

But for now, your secret was safe.

At least, you hoped it was.

[ladylooch]

You, Me, and Mexico [Lucie x Connor] - Part 2

A/N: The conclusion of Mexico and the true formation of Lucie and Connor as we know them now. This is spicy and sassy and hectic like our two young lovers were. I am in love with this. I hope you are too 🥹

Word Count: 7.8k

Lucie has never heard a pack of National Hockey League players so quiet before. 

But she also hasn’t seen them this hungover either. 

Their Mexico Allstar break is proving to be the ultimate competitor for these rowdy and untamed boys. Even Lio is no match for the lime, tequila, and hot sand. The only one who seems relatively unscathed this morning is Connor who sits on his chaise two down from her, reading.

Between Lucie and Connor, Lio’s muffled snores vibrate the towel beneath his face. To his left, Lucie holds her Kindle up with one arm. She swipes her thumb across the page, willing herself to get lost in a Texas ranch fantasy, but finding it difficult with how swelteringly hot the sun is on her body. She glances down at her calves, frowning at the pink patches beginning to shine through. 

Damn her dad and his pastey genes.

All she wanted was to come back from Mexico bronzed and gorgeous, but her Swiss heritage has something snarky to say about her every attempt at collecting the sun’s rays.

Lucie glances over at Lio who is more Swiss than her, gloriously tanned from all angles without a hint of sunburn on him. 

Hmmm, maybe it’s not the Swiss in her. Maybe it’s the American?

As casually as Lucie can muster, her brown eyes trail beyond her cousin to his All-American roommate. The one who two nights ago seemingly changed the trajectory of their trip, then disappeared into the night again like whatever that was didn’t happen. At least this time she had a beach full of witnesses to know it wasn’t all a dream. Lucie purses her lips ash the thought, letting her gaze trail along the strong muscles on Connor’s body. 

He sits shirtless to Lio’s left, navy swim trunks hugging all the right places. They bunch up at his mid-thigh, barely holding together over his thick quads. One of his feet is planted on the chaise, knee bent at an angle so his fingers can dangle off his leg. This makes his thighs look even bigger, almost like tree trunks. Lucie’s head lulls slightly to the side involuntarily, remembering those beneath her own when she straddled his lap the other evening. 

A dangerously hot thought on an already hot day. 

Frustration tightens the back of her throat, remembering how long it’s been since she’s been touched. Or at least was until Connor lit her skin on fire then ran away without finishing the job. 

Chicken. 

As understanding as she was that night, her annoyance and frustration is all that appears today.

Lucie slides her sunglasses-covered gaze away, trying to focus back on her Kindle again. But then, she can sense Connor’s movement out of the corner of her eye and her eyes instantly drift again. Connor flips the page in his book, pinching and tugging his bottom lip as he dips his face further into the spine. He is wearing an old Rockies hat that has his dark curls going crazy around the edges from the humidity and swimming earlier. 

Lucie watches as Connor blinks, bringing his gaze to the pool in front of them where a few kids splash in the water. Then his gaze goes right back to the worn pages in his fingers. Lucie wonders if he has read this book a few times or if it’s his first time. 

She wishes she didn’t feel too awkward to ask. 

Like a bitter cycle she knows too well, Connor has been avoiding her since their run in on their first night. Other than the longing glance across the table or the hesitant goodnights they say to each other, he is dodging her like she crossed an invisible boundary again. Her only solace is that any woman who comes up to him, and there have been plenty, is turned away quickly or blatantly ignored. It gives Lucie hope. Like maybe he is waiting for her to make the next move.

A bead of sweat drips down Lucie’s spine from her hair. She sighs, slapping her Kindle down and grabbing the teal scrunchie from her wrist. She tosses her hair up into a bun then stands. Her bright pink bikini bottoms back are tugged back into place, sitting more appropriately on her hip bones. She stretches her arms, making her breasts pull tight against her chest. Connor glances over at her, then quickly looks away when their eyes meet. Lucie sighs, rolling her eyes and announcing to no one in particular that she’s going into the pool.

“Don’t drown.” Lio mumbles to her without opening his eyes.

Lucie tosses her sunglasses onto her white towel, then steps towards the edge of the pool. The stairs are on the other side, but a ledge running along the sides makes it easier to enter from anywhere. She glides into the cool, crystal water, instantly sagging in relief at the chilling sensation on her skin. She seeps in further, sinking down until her shoulders skim beneath the water, then back up, happy the breeze off the ocean seems to be picking up. She kicks across to the other side of the pool, then sneaks a glance back over to her group.

A corner of her mouth tilts up when she notices how hard Connor is focusing on his book now. His eyes do not float away, even as other noises call for his attention. A group of people walk by, but again Connor stares hard with his nose in his book. Lucie giggles to herself, realizing that she hasn’t seen Connor turn the page much since they got to the pool and she shrugged off her cover up. 

To test her theory, Lucie flicks water up with her foot, seeing if she can get droplets close to their group. The droplets fall just to the edge of the pool, so she goes closer, trying again. She is right in front of Connor, tempting him, pushing herself further out of the water so her bikini top rises into the air, showing two distinct points in the front. 

Connor’s gaze stays on the book like they’re glued, but he shifts his legs around, pulling the opposite foot up and letting the other one down. His tongue runs along his top teeth, strong jaw zig zagging to both sides like it’s bothering him. 

Lucie floats to her back, careful to keep her hair out of the water. Her legs drift back up to the top of the water then she flicks again, grinning when she watches the streak of water wet the concrete then disappear onto Connor’s chaise. His blue eyes fly up as the droplets hit his foot. Lucie can feel his eyes everywhere. They’re generous and starved, roaming all over her exposed skin before he cocks his head to the side at her. 

“Accident.” She shrugs innocently.

“Mhm.” She faintly hears him grumble. She sucks her cheeks in, making her dimples pierce further into her cheeks. Then with his eyes still on her, she flicks again, bigger this time, laughing at his deeper frown. His eyebrows pull together, looking dark and menacing beneath the shade of his hat. But there is no mistaking the look of desire that swirls over his face.

Lucie swings her foot down as Connor goes back to his book. She flicks again, this time getting a big splash on his ankle that makes Lucie snort in surprise. Between his knees, she can see the sparkle of droplets on his phone. Oops. 

Connor snaps his book shut, standing up. In one motion, he’s heading towards her, whipping his hat off and jumping into the pool. Lucie squeals in surprise as his splash slaps her in the face. She barely has time to wipe her eyes before Connor’s arms swoop under her waist, lifting her easily into his arms. She immediately feels his hard erection against her. 

Lucie gasps at that and the proximity of his lips to hers. She glances quickly towards the rest of their group. All of them are still asleep on their chaises, Lio included.

“Hi.” She says to him.

“Hi.” He responds quietly, almost subdued as he drinks her in. His grip on her waist shifts as his hands skim down to her ass. He rolls her hips into his, making Lucie inhale heavily through her nose. “You wanted attention?” He murmurs. Lucie laughs. 

“I need some every day. It’s a disease.” She bats her lashes at him. He smiles genuinely, laughing while running his hands from her butt to the backs of her thighs. His thumbs swipe across the top of her skin, making her core tingle. “And you’ve been avoiding me again.” She points out bluntly.

“I’m not...it’s just.. Lio.” He shrugs.

“Lio has been drunk, high or getting laid the entire time we have been here.” Lucie rolls her eyes at his favorite excuse.

“Yeah but that’s his norm, so it’s not like he doesn’t see the way I can’t stop staring at your ass.” Lucie’s cheeks turn pink, warming under the knowledge of him looking at her, soaking her in like she wants him to. She brings her fingers up his biceps, threading them around his neck. 

“You like what you see?”

“You know I do. Plus, I’ve got you all figured out, Lucie Hischier.”

“That makes one of us.” She drawls back. Her fingers glide through his hair as she takes another peek at the group. Still clear. She leans forward, on the opposite side of his neck then runs her tongue from the dip of his collar bone to his ear lobe. 

“I want you, Lucie. I wasn’t lying about that the other night.” His voice is liquified with need, edgy but smooth, almost a groan when she sucks his skin into her mouth for a moment. 

“What’s so bad about here?”

“You deserve better.” He murmurs, gripping her face gently in his wet palm. 

Better? How could anywhere else be better? Lucie can still feel his hearty grip on her ass as he ground her into his cock the other night. That felt pretty damn good to her, Mexico or not. 

“I don’t understand you.” Lucie groans. “You may be the only man, a hockey player to boot, who won’t fuck the willing girl in his arms.” 

Connor’s eyes darken at the dirty slip of her words. 

“You’d like that wouldn’t you, baby?” There is an edge to him now, a dark one that Lucie wants to explore further. 

“Yes.” She snaps tightly, pressing her breasts into his chest more.

“Would like it if I slipped this bikini to the side and took you right here? Hm? Made you be quiet while I sink my cock deep into your wet pussy?” His voice is low and gruff as his eye roam over her face, watching every flicker of pleasure melt her brown eyes into liquid chocolate. 

“Mhm.” She whines through her bitten lip. 

“I could do it, Luc. I could fuck you here without anyone knowing.” Goosebumps thread down her limbs as she looks into his eyes. Lucie becomes lighter in his arms, looser as she tries to drop her hips to roll against his erection again. He leans in close. Lucie doesn’t care enough to look over at their group again. This is it, she thinks. He’s finally going to-

“AH!!!!” She screams suddenly, feeling herself being propelled through the air. Then she’s sucking in water from her open mouth. The water pulls her under, swirling around in white bubbles as she forces herself back up to the surface. She gasps, shoving the loose hairs from her bun off her face. 

Through her saltwater haze, Lucie glares at the retreating back of Connor Wood. She gapes at the group of laughing NHL players, all now wide awake at once, including her cousin who is sitting up, choking from laughing so hard.

“Woody, you got her so good.” Lio bellows. 

Rivers of water run down Connor’s hairy legs as his feet lead him back to his chaise lounge. His white teeth dazzle against his tanned skin and his blue eyes softly glisten. Quickly, he sends an apologetic look her way. All the heat that had been building between them has vanished for Lucie. One minute he’s whispering dirty thoughts in her ear and the next he is chucking her across the pool to get away from her? Who’s the one playing games now? She already had months of groveling and running after a man who didn’t deserve her. She was young then, didn’t know better like she does now. She is not doing it again. She is not going to continuously run after this guy, especially after he has turned her down twice. 

Connor is right in that way; she does deserve better.

“My little sister could have thrown me farther than that.” Lucie chirps when she gets back to her chair. Lio tosses her towel to her, assessing her as she wipes off. 

“You good?” Lio asks her. Lucie scoffs, snatching her cover up off the chaise.

“Yeah, but I’m done for the day.” She hastily tosses her stuff into her pool bag. “I’ll see you guys for dinner.” She calls breezily over her shoulder as she pulls her cover up back over her right shoulder. 

“Lucie, I’m- I’m sorry.” Connor says, folding his towel over his waist as she walks by. Lucie cuts a glare his way as she continues towards the exit of the pool area. “Luc? They were looking. I had to do something.” He mumbles to her. Lucie balks at that, scoffing. She whips around so fast her bag slaps against her butt.

“This is, like, a game to you, isn’t it?” Connor’s eyes dart nervously to the side then he shakes his head no. She steps closer, licking her lips and lowering her voice so it’s only between them. “I’m nobody’s secret, Connor.”

Then she twirls back around and leaves him staring at her perfect ass sashay away from him.

 - - -

Connor should have known better than to poke at Lucie this afternoon. The only thing it taught her was how damn easy it is to get his attention. So when the idea of hitting another beach party was floated at dinner, it was Lucie who immediately jumped at it. She happily put up with all their jokes and pokes about her wet t-shirt entry from earlier in the week. Because she knows exactly what her game plan is tonight.

Use any willing male on the beach to show Connor Wood exactly what he is missing.

He thinks he can play games and be aloof and then also cockblock her from anyone else the rest of this trip? Fine. Then he can watch her work a room and get him in a drunken jealous tizzy before it ends with her walking away from him. 

Her target was Javi, the local bartender who’s shift ended an hour ago. She batted her lashes and let her dress dip dangerously low over her cleavage until he agreed to stay. All he had to do was change and then he joined her on the beach, hand slipped into hers. Lucie didn’t have to know where Connor was to feel his gaze following them. But Lio’s loud shout and wave pointed out where they were a while ago. Lucie just doesn’t care enough to go join them. Instead, she is savoring Javi’s hands on her. She loves the way he flirts with red zones while staying firmly in the yellow spots on her body. It makes her feel sexy, restoring the confidence that Connor literally drowned in the pool this afternoon.

It’s not until Javi is pulled into a work emergency off the clock that Lucie saunters back towards her group. She is exhausted and parched from dancing, but feels free and gorgeous. Not even Connor’s glower can take that away from her. His thick brows squiggle over his blue eyes, waves crashing in them like the inky ocean hitting the beach to her right. Lucie smiles at him easily, a little wickedness seeping into her cheeks like her dimples. 

“Having fun?” Connor asks, licking his top teeth after a long pull from his Modelo. 

“Tons of it.” She answers breezily, then leans down to grab her watered down margarita. She takes a sip from the lime green straw, then tosses it back down on the table when its completely drained. “I think I’ll go have another round of that.” She flirts at him, running her fingers through her brown hair that has curled up nicely in the humidity.

Before Lucie can even take a step, her fingers are collected in Connor’s and he pulls her back into his chest.

“Stay here, Princess. I’m not running across the beach to save you again.”

“Aww, but last time it was so Baywatch.” She pulls away from him, stepping to leave the group again. “I’m fine, cowboy. Stay here and keep moping if that's how you want to spend your night.” Lucie can feel more than hear his growl as he wraps his arm around her stomach, pulling her firmer to his chest. She resists letting her shoulder droop into his body, but notices he is rock hard. He shifts her so his bulge settles perfectly between her rounded cheeks that taunted him earlier at the pool.

“Lucie. You take one more step and I’m going to throw you over my shoulder.”

“Yeah, then what?” She snaps. “You gonna throw me into the ocean over there to drown me out of your mind, Woody?” He says nothing, but his chest swells and deflates rapidly into Lucie’s back. She rolls her eyes, then bucks her hips back so he lets her go completely. She turns around, setting her hard glare on him. “Quit with the games. Make it worth my time or leave me alone.” He continues to watch her, blue gaze steely yet wild. His untamed curls blow in the beach breeze, shirt flapping open more to expose his tanned and toned chest. He is freakishly still. Lucie scoffs, waving at him over her shoulder to go back to Javi. 

Suddenly, her knees are taken out from under her. She squeaks, then is flipped to her stomach over his shoulder, looking down at Connor’s ass and the worn boardwalk. Connor’s flip flops slap against the bottoms of his feet with each step. Lucie struggles in his grasp. He tightens his grip on her thighs then calls back to her.

“Don’t make me tie you up to keep you still.” 

“Everyone is watching you haul me away!” Lucie shrieks, looking at the group of hockey players laughing. Lio, drunk and high, lifts his hand and wave. Lucie lifts her middle finger back at him.

“Get your teammate!” She yells at Lio. He yells something back that Lucie can’t hear. “Connor, put me down.” She directs back to the man under her thighs.

“No. I was clear with you. You took one more step.”

Lucie hangs quietly over his shoulder for the duration of the walk to the elevator. It’s a waste of her breath to continue complaining, no one is going to save her. Once they get to the bank of elevators, Connor puts her feet back on the ground.

“I can run faster than you. Don’t even try.” He warns. Lucie rolls her eyes. What does he have to be mad about?

The walk down to her room is equally quiet as he waits for her to fish her card out of her back pocket. She doesn’t, standing there with a glare on her face and arms crossed across her chest.

“Open the damn door, Lucie.” He hisses at her. She scoffs, stepping back. He reaches for her, then glides his hand down her back to her ass, puling out the white card and swiping it quickly. He shoves her through the door. 

“You have some damn nerv-”

The rest of the word is cut off by Connor’s frantic kiss. He grips her body, twirling them both so he slams her up against the closed door. Nothing about it is gentle or nice. It’s angry and punishing just like his thigh grinding between her legs. Lucie moans, getting turned on by the hard press of him to the apex of her thighs. 

“Fuck.” He growls, letting his hands roam her body. He grips her breasts tightly, then dives back in to kiss her hard. Her head bounces on the door as he makes out with her, stretching her mouth open to accommodate his hurried pace. 

“You have some damn nerve dancing with that guy all night.” He finally says to her, pulling back to look into her face.

“Why do you care? There were a hundred women on that beach you could have instead.”

“Why are you acting like I actually would want anyone here who isn’t you?” He laughs like something about this is funny.

“Because your signals are all over the place, Connor! One minute you’re moaning in my ear and the next you’re throwing me across the fucking pool.”

Connor crowds her up against the door, pinning her there easily with one thigh. His hands dash through her hair as he leans down.

“I should make it clear to you huh? Take your right here against the door.” 

“See like that. Why are you all over the place?”

“Because this is a bad idea, Luc. So fucking bad.” He whispers on her mouth, swiping his lips across hers with each word. Lucie opens her eyes, taking in his long lashes kissing together as he tries to hold back from taking her. Goosebumps pimple along her limbs as she tangles her fingers in his curls. “Because once I have you, I’m not going to want to stop. Ever.”

“Please?” She asks. “I’ll be worth it. I promise.”

All his resolve breaks. 

“You ask so sweetly.” He moans. “Innocent. Like you don’t know what you do to me. But you do, don’t you?” He kisses down her jaw, leading to her throat. “Know how much I want you. You know I can’t breathe when you walk into the room. Too distracted with how beautiful you are.” His words muffle into her skin but Lucie hears them clearly. She's drunker on them than tequila could ever make her.

“I want you to have me.” She whispers into his ear, then sucks his ear lobe into her mouth. His forehead drops to her shoulder briefly. 

“I wanna taste you.” He says. Lucie’s eyes widen in alarm and he picks up on it. “Those Swiss boys don’t eat pussy do they?” He kisses her lips. She blushes, then drops his gaze. He chuckles, taking her chin in two fingers. “You gonna get shy on me now?”

“You don’t have to.” She says quietly. Connor laughs, genuinely, shaking her breasts against his chest as he starts to kiss down her neck. 

“I’m gonna change your whole world, baby.” 

It feels like an out of body experience to Lucie as she watches him kiss down her body. He gets to her shorts, tugging them down to expose her yellow, lace panties. He peels those off more delicately, kissing everywhere he uncovers. Her eyes flutter shut as he kisses at the crest of her pussy lips, letting his tongue tease the slit for a moment before he pulls her underwear all the way off. Once they collect around her feet, his blue eyes go to her glistening core. 

Between them, Lucie’s breasts shudder as she gulps in air. With his eyes on hers, he leans forward. His tongue falls out of his mouth then strikes up her already soaked slit. Lucie’s head finds the door, smacking against it as her eyes screw shut. 

“Um.” She starts to speak, then loses her train of thought. “Oh.” She hears herself moan. 

He pulls away, then bring his hands up to her core, crudely pulling her puffy lips apart with his thumb and pointer finger. He looks drunk when their gazes meet, then he holds hers as he goes in for his next taste. Lucie’s eyes squeeze shut as his lips engulf her clit, giving her pulsating sucks and then a long lick of his tongue. 

“Fuck.” She growls then inhales, moaning out her exhale as he presses his mouth in more. 

No, Lucie Hischier has never had her pussy eaten before, but she can’t imagine the boys before Connor could have done it like this. He knows his way around the female anatomy. Maybe that should bother Lucie, but right now, all she can care about is getting her fingers into his curls to hold him in place. 

“Talk to me, Luc.” He says. Nothing about it is a beg. It’s a demand. Like if she doesn’t comply, this whole illusion of a dream will rupture. 

“Feels… mmm, amazing.” She sighs.

His lips collect her clit again, almost nipping it into his mouth. Her knees shake, threatening collapse as her hand falls from his hair to his shoulder. Connor leans forward, collecting her calf over his shoulder, then putting a steadying hand on her other thigh to hold her upright.

“Ah, oh, oh, oh oh, ohhhhh.” Lucie squirms against his mouth as he eats her like a dripping summer popsicle in the thick of summer. “Ohmygod.” She chokes out. Her core clenches uncomfortably tight. Her hand dashes into her own hair as her head ricochets off the door again.

“That’s it, Luc. Tell me how good it feels.” He snakes his tongue back to her entrance, lazily fucking her with his tongue before going back to her clit to finish her off. 

“So fucking good, Connor. Please, Please. Please. Please. Don’t-“ Lucie can only pant the rest of the way up to her high. Her bottom jaw unhinges as she whispers out a final moan of Connor’s name then collapses over the edge. Her thighs go ridged. The leg over this shoulder clamps around his neck to hold him to her pussy as she grinds into his face while she finishes.

“Fuck, baby.” Connor moans, coming out of her folds for air. His tongue snakes out, doing one last slurp up her slit. She shakes in response and Connor grips her hips to keep her upright. He untangles himself from her legs, then kisses his way back up her body to her mouth. “You wanna taste what I do to you?” He asks her. Lucie's response is to latch her lips to his. He tastes sweet and tangy, like her and the beer he had earlier.

“My turn.” She demands, biting at his bottom lip, then sinking her knees into the soft carpeting at their feet. Connor hesitates, almost looking like he is going to say no, but then she cups his hard cock over his shorts and he grunts like that alone might make him come. 

Hurriedly, Lucie undoes his shorts. Maybe another night she would tease him, but not when he is constantly on either side of the line, tip toeing over just to throw himself back to the safe side. No, tonight, she wants a taste. 

Pushing down the waistband of his bottoms, Lucie watches with excited, dewy eyes as he springs free. His firm length slaps against his abdomen, leaving a bead of pre-cum there. Her eyes fixate on it, then she moves her tongue to collect the white circle. Connor’s hand goes into her hair, gathering it all in his fist. Lucie kisses around the right side of his shaft, teasing him by ghosting her lips over the ridge of his head. She continues down the left side, then goes right for the kill, sucking a testicle into her mouth. Connor rocks back on his heels for a minute before he coughs.

“Aw fuck. You know how to suck cock don’t you, Princess?”

Lucie doesn’t respond with words. Instead she kisses back up his shaft to collect only his head into her mouth. She sucks, watching him squirm at the sensitivity, then she breaks eye contact to take him fully down in one drop of her head. Connor’s hand on her hair squeezes so tight it hurts. It fuels Lucie further, bobbing her wide, wet mouth up and down. The room fills with his cock meeting her stretched mouth. Drool drops down Connor’s shaft, collecting on Lucie’s hand as it strokes up, forcing the velvet skin to meet her mouth with each thrust. 

“Oh.” Connor groans. Then moans her name loudly, so loud that anyone walking by in the hallway would surely hear it. Heat flutters in her core, igniting again at how expressive he is. With each pump of her hand and mouth, Connor praises her. He begs her to keep going. He compliments her mouth and hand. He brings the hand not in her hair to her throat, feeling her deep thrust him down. 

“Do that again and I’m gonna cum in your mouth.” He growls through mashed teeth.

So Lucie does, then guzzles down the white ropes that shoot in a desperate release from him.

“Holy…”

Connor frees her from his hands, dashing them through his wild curls as he looks down at her. Lucie comes off his cock, settling her thighs back on her bare heels. He watches her through half-mast lids, observing as she licks her lips then wipes her chin with the back of her hand. He blinks, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling as his mouth drops open in awe. Then he reaches down, pulling her back onto her feet in one swoop. Lucie peers at him with shy eyes, suddenly feeling self-conscious at the way he is looking at her. 

“I’m never gonna be able to forget how good you are at that.” He admits. Lucie smiles, cheeks turning slightly red at the compliment.

“You want to?”

“No. It’s just gonna make it hard to do things like have you over at our place for dinner, or play hockey, or sleep.” Lucie chuckles, dropping her forehead to his chest. He takes the opportunity to wrap her in his arms. She runs her hands up his big back, breathing in the scent of him as she does. Connor’s mouth comes to rest on her hair. 

Lucie tries to fight the yawn tugging at her mouth, but she can’t. It comes out unwelcome, like the buzzkill it is. Connor squeezes her tighter, then releases. He reaches between them, tucking his softened form back into his shorts. Lucie steps back, swallowing, before looking up at him with curious brown eyes. 

“I don’t wanna go.” He answers honestly. “But I should.” 

“Don’t.” Lucie whispers, being brave and asking for what she wants.

“Okay.” He nods, giving in instantly. “How do you sleep?” He gestures to her body.

“With pajamas.” She chuckles, then walks across the room to grab them. Connor follows her, taking them from her hands. Together, they work her night clothes off. Connor’s eyes linger and his hands wander to her breasts and ass, giving generous squeezes and strokes to them. Lucie’s skin is on fire as he kisses her on the mouth, thumbing her nipples after getting her fully ready for bed.

It isn’t long before they fall into bed together, feet to each other’s heads, having a quick midnight snack of each other’s sex again. The spoken desire of Connor to not go all the way in Mexico is held like a promise between the two of them. 

After another orgasm for them both, Connor pulls on his boxer briefs and replaces Lucie’s pajama bottoms. Then he collects her to his chest, fastening his nose into her hair. 

As Lucie falls asleep on his body, she silently prays that the cycle has been broken. That the game is officially over and they both came out winners. She hopes when they go home tomorrow, time moves forward with more moments like this with him.

If it doesn’t, this game might finally end with Lucie firmly in the loser’s column. 

- - -

Lucie’s eyes burn as she waits at baggage claim with Lio and Connor after their flight landed late in NYC. Lio is hungover, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. Connor stands still, feet spread wide apart, saying nothing. Lucie glances at him. The last good look she got of him was his retreating back leaving her room this morning.

On the flight home, Lio sat in Lucie’s row. Connor sat behind them and seemingly slept the whole flight. Truthfully it was hard for Lucie to see him, which is why she drinks him in now before they go to their separate neighborhoods. He looks so good again today- comfortable and cozy. Lucie knows now how homey and safe that chest feels after waking up on it this morning. She wants to curl into it tonight instead of her cold, lonely dorm bed. 

“That yours?” Lio asks of the pink suitcase twirling around the metal slats. Before Lucie can answer, Connor steps forward and grabs it for her. His bag is right after hers. Then Lio’s comes through a couple more twirls later. They all silently head towards ground transportation to find a few cabs. 

When they get to the curb, Lio hails one down for her immediately. He pops the back door open for her as Connor wheels hers and his bags behind the trunk. Lucie looks at him over the trunk of the car. There is a slight smirk on his face and a sparkle in his eye that wasn’t there before. He puts her suitcase in first then his next to it. 

“Bye, Lee.” Lucie says, distractedly. She gives him a hug. “I’ll see you… when I do.” She shrugs, knowing now that the Allstar break is done, the difficult stretch of the season will begin. 

“Yeah, I’ll text ya. Hopefully you can come to one of the games this weekend. Back to back Friday and Saturday.”

“I can Saturday for sure.”

“Cool, I’ll send tickets. You want two?”

“Yeah, I might bring a friend.” She confirms. 

“Sounds good.” Lio steps aside, then glances over at Connor. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m going to ride into the city with Lucie. I’m seeing a friend.” 

“I shouldn’t expect you home?” Lio smirks.

“Ah, I don’t know. I’ll let you know. But first, I’ll get Lucie back safely.” 

“Sounds good. See you.” Lio murmurs, then rolls his bag down to the next cab. Lucie slowly slides into the backseat of the cab with Connor going in the other side.

The first few turns out of the airport are silent. Lucie’s mouth suddenly feels dry. All the teasing and pleasure they had in Mexico was wonderful, but never going the whole way with him has left her with a greedy ache between her thighs. The thought of him finally soothing that ache tonight has spikes of pleasure shooting through her body. 

“Am I the friend?” Lucie wonders as the cab merges onto the road outside the airport. Connor reaches over, grabbing her hand off the seat next to her thigh. He laces their fingers together, kissing along her knuckles. She melts into his touch, reaching for his thigh with her other hand. 

“Yes. I need you. More than I’ve had you. I can’t wait anymore. We are back home and I want you as soon as possible.” 

“My roommate…”

“Plenty of time for her to leave if you text her now. Or I can tell her to get lost when we get there.” Lucie giggles at his directness.

Rather than argue, Lucie texts Daniella that she needs the room. She receives an immediate thumbs up then the bubbles continue to pulse on her screen.

Please tell me you’re finally getting Connor in your bed. I’ll be at Dre’s for the night.

Lucie’s eyes widen and she clicks her phone screen to dark, hoping Connor didn’t see that. 

“We good?”

“Yeah.”

Connor gives her an assuring smile, then sets their laced hands on his left thigh. The rest of the drive is quiet. Connor plays with her fingers. Lucie leans her head on the back of the seat, closing her eyes and feeling the bumps and shake of the car as reassurance that this is real. Every so often, she opens her eyes to see Connor looking at her in the dark cab. As they crawl the last few blocks, he rubs her cheek with his thumb. He leans across the back seat kissing her longingly.

When they get to her place, Connor pays the fair and tip, then grabs their suitcases out of the car. He follows Lucie’s lead to her dorm. His nose comes to the back of her neck as she puts the key into her door. His lips plump in a kiss that has her hands shaking while she flips the lock. She leans back into his body, feeling the bulge of him pushing into her butt. His free hand wraps around her, pressing into her stomach to keep her close as they walk step to step into her room. The door shuts behind them. Lucie swallows hard, wheeling her bag over towards the closet. She kicks her shoes off, then turns to look at Connor. 

“Gonna tell you right now that this won’t be enough.” He murmurs. “I’m going to need you time and time again. I’m already insatiable when it comes to you, Lucie Hischier.”

His long strides carry him quickly across the room to her. He holds her cheeks in his hands, stroking along the bones below her eyes. His blue eyes swim with desire as he looks down into her face. She watches as his lips fall towards hers. She collects them on hers, inhaling heavily at how good it feels. Her arms instinctively wrap around his shoulders. His come to her lower back, respectfully pulling her in as close as he can. 

“Do you.. have a condom?” She asks.

“Yeah, that’s why I had to bring my bag with.”

“Did you bring those to Mexico for me?”

“Yeah.” He admits. “But I am serious. I didn’t want it to be like that. In a resort… like it was some vacation fling.” He shakes his head. “This has never been a game to me. I’m sorry if ever made it seem like I didn’t want you. You’re all I want, Lucie.” 

“You said it wasn’t good enough for what we are going to be. So tell me, what are we going to be?” She whispers, running her hands down his shoulders to grip his biceps.

“Everything.” He says confidently. “It’s the only thing worth risking this for.” Lucie smiles, then nods before Connor kisses her again. 

He steps forward, gently guiding her hips back towards her bed. Lucie grips his upper body tightly as he carefully lays her on the comforter. Their lips suck each other up like it’s been days apart when it’s been mere hours since they touched last. They’re addicts for each other. Lucie understands what Connor means when he says insatiable. She feels it too. Everything about his touch and presence lights her soul on fire. 

Connor pulls away, reaching for the hem of her NYU sweatshirt. He lifts it up over her head, exposing her bralette below. He smiles at her perky nipples teasing him like they did days ago through her wet t-shirt. He cups under her right breast then brings his mouth down to it while maintaining eye contact with her. Lucie bites her bottom lip, savoring the sparks of pleasure that shoot down to her clit from his hearty suck. He pulls the bralette to the side completely, then continues his play.

He moves on to the other nipple, painting it with his saliva before releasing it with a loud pop. Between her legs, Lucie pulses painfully. Her walls collapse inwards, convulsing angrily around nothing. Connor pulls his sweatshirt and t-shirt off, then walks over to his suitcase. He unzips the front pocket, pulling out an unopened box of condoms. Lucie watches as he brings the whole thing over, setting it on the nightstand. Then he gathers Lucie in for another kiss. 

“Connor?” Lucie mumbles against him.

“Hmm.”

“We have waited long enough to have each other this way.” She points out. “Suit up.” He grins, chuckling too as he reaches for her sweatpants. He pulls them off in one swoop, taking her panties as well. He makes quick work of his remaining clothes too. After, he spreads her legs wide so his eyes can feast on her slick, puffy folds. He strokes his cock in his hand, sighing when Lucie drags her fingers over her slick flesh to tease him. 

“You are so damn sexy.” He drawls, then reaches for the box of condoms. He opens them quickly, fumbling with getting only one foil wrapper out. They all explode out of the box at once, creating condom confetti. One lands on Lucie’s stomach.

“This one has been chosen.” She picks it up, handing it to him.

Connor smiles, ripping the gold open with his teeth. He spits out the top, then rolls the latex down his thick shaft. He maneuvers Lucie back on the bed, kneeling between her spread legs. He tests her hole carefully with one finger, then two. Lucie clamps around them instantly, making Connor close his eyes in pleasure. When he opens them, his pupils are blown so wide they shine black. 

He leans down, kissing her again while edging the head of his cock through her folds. He collects her wetness, teasing them both until he perches right at her entrance and pushes in. The first stitch of pain makes Lucie clam up. She resists digging her nails into his shoulders. 

“ S’okay.” He reminds her quietly. He brings his thumb down to her clit, rolling it delicately. Then he pushes in a little further, keeping a stroking pattern going on her sensitive bud. 

“Ohm-mygod.” Lucie stutters as he fills her fully. His attention on her clit has wetness forcing from her like a wave. Her pussy clamps around him, sending her eyes to her brain for a moment. “Fuck that feels full.”

“You’re so tight.” He agrees. “Gonna give you a second.”

He leans down, sucking up her left nipple, rolling it tight between his lips. Connor’s lips never stray from hers long. They may wander down and curve over here or there, but they crave hers too intently to be gone long. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He mumbles into their kiss. “Can’t believe the prettiest girl on the beach is here with me.” Lucie smiles, giggling happily as she accepts the complement. His sweet touches and words have the stitches of discomfort dissipating to nothing. She hooks her ankles together on his ass, giving him a limit for how much she wants him to pull out. “You like it deep, baby?” Lucie nods. “Mmm, I’ll give you what you need. I’ll learn you fast, Luc. Promise.” He mumbles into her mouth. He gives her another peck, then pulls up and away to adjust the angle. Lucie quivers as he begins to press deeper into her. 

“Oh.” She moans, stretching out so her back can curve slightly. Connor grips her breast, looking down at her with hazy eyes. He lick his lips, beginning to pant as his speed goes harder. The clunky wood bed frame rattles against the wall, but neither of them can find the grip on reality to care. All that exists is the places their bodies are conjoining together. 

“Damn, you feel so good. So worth the wait for this.” Connor groans. “So perfect, Luc.” 

Lucie begins to pant. Her vision blurs as she breathes hard and fast, feeling the building of her orgasm deep in her core. It twists and pulls and grows ravenous for release with each stroke of his big cock inside of her. She is dripping down her swollen lips and his tight shaft. It collects on his balls where he can feel it without obstruction, making him chase for more.

“Fuck.” He growls down at her as they both feel that first pull of her orgasm. “That’s it, pretty girl. Come for me. Please.” He begs her. Lucie’s never had a partner who’s begged for her to come. His hands grip her hips greedily, pressing into her hip bones as he keeps the perfect tempo and angle for her. Lucie’s head flies back, eyes closed, back arching up off the bed. Connor catches her body, holding her there as she quakes against his sticky skin.

“Holy fucking- fuuuuuuck.” Connor drawls out into her neck. Her muscles contract around the latex again, savoring the feeling of his fullness in her tight hole. 

“Ohmygod.” Lucie chokes out, her fingers dash through his hair as he collapses forward, spent from the ribbons of cum he left in the latex. 

“God damn.” He groans, doing micro pumps into her to prolong both of their orgasms. He stops when he’s too sensitive to continue. 

Lucie collects him on her chest like a prized possession. Her arms tighten around him, lips dropping on his cheek where his head is buried in the pillow beside her. He turns his head, chasing her lips on his as if he hasn’t had enough of her yet. His hand cups her cheek, thumb stroking over the pink he put on her skin. His nose runs down her mouth and chin, letting his forehead hit her mouth instead. Lucie can’t help but smile. She’s never felt this complete and connected after sex before. 

“Is your roommate coming back?” Connor eventually wonders, pulling slowly out of her. 

“No, she went to her boyfriend’s.”

“So we have the room to ourselves?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “But we should put clothes on. Just incase.”

“Okay.” He kisses her forehead, then helps her get up.

They both change back into their clothes, then Connor holds the covers up for Lucie to slide into. Her dorm bed is entirely two small for two people let alone one who is a professional athlete.  But it keeps them close so neither of them mind. Connor encourages Lucie to turn over to be little spoon. She tucks her butt into his lap, then curls her knees up, wiggling back into him. He holds her hips steady, giving them a squeeze as a warning.

“Didn’t realize you were a one and done kinda guy…” She trails off. He moves his arm down so his hand can cup her right breast. He pinches her nipple, making Lucie squeeze her thighs together. 

“Only on days I have long flights.” He mumbles, kissing the back of her neck. “Remember that for road trips.”

Lucie’s heart skips a beat, thinking about him coming home to her after being on the road. She wants that. Badly. 

But for now, she will settle for this- his warmth heating up her back, limbs tangled with hers and soft breathing synchronized with the same pulls of air as her. 

Lucie closes her eyes quickly. She feels so safe and comforted in Connor’s warm embrace. 

She couldn’t fight it much longer if she tried.

[cvnt4him]

Hold on ..... Bc katsu fucking you in izus bed?!!

It wasn't on purpose.....initially. you n katsuki had a couple of drinks together in the yuei college dorm house, eventually one thing led to another and you found yourself fondling each other's body through sloppy spit filled kisses and sweaty movements trying your hardest to get each others clothes off. Within an instant of stripping you of your close he turned you around and pushed your face into the pillows. He fucked you roughly from behind, not much prep due to him being extremely horny. The gutteral groans he let out the second his cock entered your walls were perfect. You could tell which each thrust he was losing more of his composure, his control. This big tough act he out of was falling. Soon the groans turned into stifled moans and small carefully muffled mewls. his hips piston into the back of your ass with such heavy force. He felt the edge coming quicker than expected, katsuki hated when he got like this he could never hold back. He lifted his foot onto the bed and thrusted into you with so much force. The wind was literally knocked out of your lungs, you were gasping but it's as if the air left as soon as it came in. Katsuki had a hand placed on your lower back slightly on your ass while the other held your head down with a terrible grip, your head was beginning to hurt but how could you begin to care when you had a soon to be pro heros cock inside of you?! Katsukis motions were getting sloppy, his thighs flexing and slightly quivering as he chanted in his mind not to cum just yet, his forehead was sweaty and the hot breaths you both let out were moistening the air. Katsuki soon began to speed his thrusts up once again, making the entire bed shake. The faster he moved the rougher his thrusts got, the back of your thighs and ass were sure to be red, not to mention the fact he'd been gripping your ass cheek terribly hard.

“ fu- fuck...”

His small words were breathy yet strangled, you could hear the way he was holding back. His thick and veiny hand brang a harsh slap onto the flesh of your ass, not just one however. Soon it was two, then three, then four and so much more. He couldn't stop, the slight jiggle of your ass when he hit it triggered something in him. He had his eyes squeezed shut when you two first started in hopes of not cumming, but when he seen your ass bouncing back against him without his help, the way you were just ass needy for him as he was you... Fuck how could he not cum inside?

You two cleaned yourselves up, slightly sobering up after the liquids you two ended up losing. He sniffled before standing and taking notice of his surroundings. His slightly blurry eyes blinking away the tears that wettened his eyes. Katsukis eyes widened before he realized...... That was dekus room..... He looked around at every little detail of the room before his eyes landed on a limited edition super rare or wtv all might card that was preserved in a card slip thing to keep it clean n unbent n shit. It looked u touched and so beautiful, identical to the same one katsuki had....

Katsuki looked down at you and how your legs were slightly shaking, you were sitting on dekus bed cleaning the sticky messing between your thighs with some random blue shirt. You threw it on his bed before standing and leaving without a word. Katsuki gulped and walked out behind you. Hopefully the dimwit wouldn't notice......

Oh but did he. Three days after the party izuku finally decided to go back to his dorm instead of staying at his girlfriends, he mostly just went for some more clothes to take back to ochakos but whatever. He walked into a cold but not so empty room grabbing what he needed and heading towards the door before he realized.....the display he had up over his bed was all messy, the allmight bobble head's were slightly out of place and his other nicnacs were knocked over aswell, somewhat out of place. He hummed of disapproval before heading towards his bed to fix it. Once fixed he looked at his bed that was rather messy aswell...he knew he didn't leave it like that. So, who did? He looked at the crinkled all might shirt that he normally wears to bed and smiled. That was the shirt he'd wanted to wear. His face contorted in a confused way at the feeling of the fabric, it was rather weird. It wasn't as soft as it usually is once washed. He hadn't worn the shirt in a while though, how could it be dirty? He gave the shirt a quick smell before throwing it out of his hands and shivering. It smelled of a familiar smell....for the most part, bodily fluids.

Explaining this story to a couple of the guys he shared classes with they all laughed at the poor green haired boy who regretted not just staying in his room the night of the party. Katsuki however was trying his hardest not to laugh through the small tinge of guilt he felt. It wasn't HIS fault, maybe izuku shouldn't have left his dorm door u locked.

[izzylegrand]

The Night Before

Five Hargreeves x(?) Reader . Part 1/?

Warnings: second person, adopted siblings, reader is an umbrella academy member, unreciprocated love(by reader)

_________________________________________________

There he was. Five. Back like he’d never left at all.

We all were crowded around him, watching him casually mousy around the kitchen to make a sandwich as if it was any other day. As if he hadn’t just fallen from the sky like an omen after six years of being missing.

The other students were talking to him but I didn’t hear a word. I was just staring. He’d been missing from our lives for six years after being woven so well he was involved of every aspect of it. He wasn’t here for Ben’s death, he wasn’t hear for all the fighting after Vik’s book, he was just…gone.

That night, the night before…before he ran away, he talked to me.

Me and Five were always a bit closer than I was with the other siblings. He was an ass, sure, but I knew he had my back. I could trust him.

That night I was laying in bed when the door creaked open. The lamp turned on and I saw Five. I sat up against the headboard and he came to sit on the foot of my bed, both of us facing each other with our legs crossed, a common routine.

“What’s up?” I whispered

“Dad’s pissing me off again. He’s such an ass. He thinks he knows everything, but he doesn’t.”

I laughed and leaned back against the headboard

“This is about time travel again, isn’t it?”

“It’s my power, not his, so how the hell would he have any say in when I should use it?? It’s not like he can do it. Why’s he so sure I can’t?”

“I think he doesn’t understand it so he wants you to stay away. It’s him protecting you…probably.” I shrugged

Honestly, we’d had that conversation too many times. I sat there wishing he would just get over it. The irony of that is, I would spend the next six years wishing to have any conversation with him again.

I expected him to keep complaining but he didn’t. He grabbed my hand and rubbed his thumb against the back of it, his eyes looking tenderly in mine.

“I want to time travel, Eight. I’m going to. I want you to come with me. We can go somewhere—sometime where dad won’t be able to control us! We can be together, without everyone else.”

I just stared completely frozen. I couldn’t see my face but I could only attribute it to a deer in the headlights look. There was a thick silence for a moment and it felt like my heart was higher in my chest, like everything was about to change.

He leaned in slowly and pressed his lips to mine. I wouldn’t call it a kiss. He probably didn’t know what kissing was and just took it as how he’d read it in some book. It was the most literal definition, simply pressing his lips to mine.

“Come with me.” He whispered

“I-I”

He pulled away and started to look angry. He was never angry at me but he was then. He was angry I didn’t agree immediately. He was angry I didn’t feel the same. I wanted to feel the same, but I didn’t.

“Five…we’re siblings…”

“No we’re not! You know we’re not! Don’t say crap like that!” He whispered angrily

“We might as well be. We have the same parents, grew up together, everyone calls us siblings—“

“But we’re not!” He interjected “I don’t love you like that!”

I looked at him solemnly.

There was a thick silence for a moment and it felt like my heart was higher in my chest, like everything was about to change.

“…Five, I don’t love you like that…” I whispered, my voice wavering with the threat of tears

After that, he stormed out. That was the last thing I said to him. The next morning he wouldn’t talk to me. At breakfast, he stabbed a knife in the table and declared that he wanted to time travel. Everyone just sat and silently stared while he ran off, never to be seen again.

Until today. Until now. Now, where I sat and silently stared while he gave uninterested responses to good questions. Then he looked at me. He was older now but his eyes looked the same as that night. With one stare he answered the question that had been panging in my head since he left: Was it my fault?

“Eight, I want to talk to you privately.”

_________________________________________________

A/N: Hi!!! I haven’t written a story in years so sorry for however it turned out :’) I was going to just make this a one parter but then I realized how long the flashback was so…sorry.

[blackenedsnow]

Hi! I really like the way you write! I would like to make a request. I would love if you could write about P1 Dude cuddling and comforting the reader (his partner) about their struggles with trauma and psychosis. I feel like he would understand these things. The context would be that the person was completely unsupported most of their life and is trying to come to terms with these things, but is scared to open up about it.

held together

WARNING: Mentions of trauma and psychosis, discussion of mental health struggles

PAIRING: Postal (1) Dude x Reader

NOTE: To anyone dealing with trauma and psychosis. I know it's incredibly tough, but you don’t have to face it alone. You deserve love, support, and understanding, just like anyone else. Stay strong—you’ve got this. Take care of yourself!

SUMMARY: You’ve always carried the weight of your trauma and psychosis alone. But Dude has always known more than he lets on.

The house was still, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator in the next room. The silence weighed on your chest as you sat on the couch, knees pulled up against your chest, staring blankly at the wall. You had been lost in your thoughts for what felt like hours, though time had become a blur.

Dude was there, seated beside you, but his presence was quiet, patient. You hadn’t said much—hadn’t been able to. The disarray in your mind made it hard to find the words. Years of trauma, of trying to survive without support, had left you feeling broken in ways you couldn’t explain.

“You’re real quiet tonight,” Dude finally said, his voice low and rough, but there was no edge to it. He wasn’t prying, just observing.

You hugged your knees tighter, your heart pounding in your chest. There were things you wanted to say—things you needed to say—but the fear of being misunderstood, of being seen as broken, kept your lips sealed. You had spent so long keeping these parts of yourself hidden, terrified of how others would react if they knew.

Dude shifted beside you, leaning forward slightly, resting his arms on his knees. He didn’t look at you directly, but you could feel his attention, his quiet support. He didn’t push you to talk. He never did.

Maybe that was why, of all people, you could almost imagine opening up to him.

“You know…” His voice broke the silence again, soft, contemplative. “I get it. What it’s like to be in your head, and not have anyone really get it. Most people… they can’t handle that shit.” He paused, glancing sideways at you. “But I’m not most people... you know..”

You looked at him then, your gaze meeting his. There was something in his eyes—something raw, real. He wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better. He knew. He understood in a way no one else ever had.

The weight of his words made your chest tighten, but this time it wasn’t from fear. It was something else—something that felt like a mix of relief and terror, like you were standing at the edge of a cliff, knowing that if you jumped, he would catch you.

But the jump was still terrifying.

“I… don’t know where to start,” you finally whispered, your voice barely audible.

He nodded, like he understood that, too. “You don’t have to. We’ll start wherever you’re ready.”

The lump in your throat grew, and you swallowed hard, trying to keep your emotions in check. “It’s just… everything’s so messed up. My head… I can’t tell what’s real half the time. And it’s like… no one’s ever understood. They just… left.”

The words spilled out, shaky and raw, and you felt your chest tighten with anxiety. You’d never admitted any of this out loud before. Talking about the delusions, the paranoia, the way your mind twisted reality until you couldn’t trust anything or anyone… it was too much for most people.

But Dude didn’t flinch. He didn’t look at you like you were crazy or broken. Instead, he leaned back, resting his arm on the back of the couch, and let out a low breath.

“Yeah, I know that feeling,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost reflective. “It’s like living in a bad dream you can’t wake up from. Everything’s off, and you’re just trying to hold it together while the world acts like you’re the one losing it.”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes despite your efforts to hold them back. “I… I’ve never had anyone to talk to about it. I’m scared that… if I let it all out, I’ll lose it. And then… then what?”

Dude was silent for a moment, then he shifted closer, his hand resting on your knee—firm, grounding. “You’re not gonna lose it,” he said, his voice steady, certain. “Not with me here. I’m not going anywhere.”

His touch was solid, real, pulling you back from the edge of the spiral your thoughts were leading you down. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like you had to fight your mind alone. He was there, steady and unshaken by the storm in your head.

“You don’t have to hold it together all the time,” he added, his thumb brushing lightly against your knee. “You’re allowed to let shit out. I’ve seen worse... I think.”

You let out a small, shaky laugh. The way he said it—like it was no big deal, like he wasn’t afraid of your head—made something inside you ease, just a little.

“I don’t wanna scare you off,” you whispered, though part of you knew by now that he wouldn’t be scared away. Not by this.

Dude snorted softly. “If I was gonna get scared off, it would’ve happened a long time ago.” His voice softened, and he looked at you more closely. “You don’t have to hide that stuff from me. I’ve seen the worst of it, and I’m still here.”

There was a weight in his words, a history that you knew he carried too. He was saying it to comfort you—but he was also saying it because he lived it. You knew about his struggles, his own mind playing tricks on him, pushing him to the edge more times than he could count.

And yet, he was here. Still fighting. Still living.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded, feeling a little lighter, like maybe—just maybe—you didn’t have to carry all of this alone anymore.

“Thanks,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. It wasn’t enough to express everything you felt, but it was all you could manage for now.

He didn’t need more than that. Instead, he just gave your knee a reassuring squeeze and leaned back into the couch, pulling you gently into his side. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, firm and warm, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself relax into the comfort of someone who truly understood.

The noise in your mind didn’t disappear. It never would. But for now, with him beside you, it didn’t feel so overwhelming.

[marsmarauders]

folklore (Marauder's Version)

Welcome back to another episode of Mo and Marls going insane :) @idkjustlemmedrownlikerab and I overanalyzed every single song on folklore… (the BEST Taylor Swift album, no discussion).

Also, we first discussed this one like a month ago and I didn't take very detailed notes, so if I missed anything Mo, let me know!

Sorry, it took a bit longer for this one to come out… I’m trying my best here. 😭

Let’s get into it, shall we?

the 1

So we all know how James changed, right? Like how he grew out of the bullying and mistreatment? I think part of that maturity came from Jegulus. The experience of being in a relationship with someone who is the complete and utter opposite of you would probably take a lot of emotional maturity. (And immaturity, hence why he left him when he did). And obviously, Regulus would not have betrayed Voldomort if he hadn’t first gone through the worst of it all. If it was all sunshine and rainbows being a death eater, why on earth would he have changed his mind? Like the song says, they never would’ve matured and grown if it weren’t for the fallout of their relationship.

“And if you wanted me, you really should've showed. And if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow.”

“To kiss in cars, and downtown bars was all we needed. You drew stars around my scars, but now I’m bleeding.”

cardigan

Yeah, I know the cliche. That’s literally the most quoted Wolfstar coded song lyric in the history of Taylor Swift songs, so instead, let me bring up verse 3.

This part of the song perfectly encapsulates how I think Remus felt after October 31st, 1981. Sirius would always be there in the back of his mind, whether it be the ghost of his slips or the scent of smoke. Even though he didn’t want to feel that way about Sirius anymore, considering the weight of the crimes that Sirius had supposedly committed, he still felt that way because the younger him was insistent that Sirius was the one. And some part of him knew that even though destiny fought against them, they’d end up together again. (Not for long- cough).

“But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss. I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs. The smell of smoke would hang around this long. 'Cause I knew everything when I was young. I knew I'd curse you for the longest time. Chasin' shadows in the grocery line. I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired. And you'd be standin' in my front porch light. And I knew you'd come back to me.”

“Who knows, if I never showed up, what could've been. There goes the loudest person this town has ever seen. I had a marvelous time ruining everything.”

the last great american dynasty

So first off, let’s completely ignore the word American in this scenario. Second off, my interpretation is different from the actual meaning of the song. Instead of blaming women from a sexist point of view, I’m instead using the motif that everyone was (rightfully) blaming the death eaters for the war. Does that make sense? Okay.

So when Mo first brought up the idea that this song was about Regulus, it took me a minute to understand where she was coming from (Not because it was a bad idea, not at all. This is just not my particular favorite song off of folklore). But the fact that one of the lyrics is “there goes the maddest women (person in this case) this town has ever seen, really sold it for me.

We may all argue that Barty was the maddest of all the death eaters, considering the lengths he went for Voldemort, but up until the betrayal, Regulus was literally the #1 Voldemort stan. He was mad. If he’d never “shown up,” yeah, some things might’ve been better. But to figure out the Horcruxs, he kind of had to go down that path. So in the final chorus, I honestly think it’s Regulus, 6 feet under, mocking everyone who hated him, because without him, Voldemort would’ve never been defeated.

“I think I've seen this film before, and I didn't like the ending.”

exile

This song is the dynamic I picture Wolfstar having after reuniting. Not in the shrieking shack, but outside of school. There were two conflicting sides to the story, but both left them in shambles. And now that they know the truth, they’re too scared to risk it again. Because what’s the point of trying again if they’re only going to die in the end?

The bridge gets this point across perfectly. When Taylor echos Justin’s singing with a second perspective of the story, that captures Sirius and Remus perfectly. Because from Remus’s perspective, Sirius didn’t give him any kind of heads up that he thought Remus himself to be the traitor. Sirius never gave him the time of day to hear him out! But obviously, Sirius tried giving signs, such as 1: keeping the Potter’s secret keeper extremely confidential to the point that he wouldn’t even tell his partner and 2: arguing with Remus about where he was at night. But how could Remus have known that? He couldn’t read Sirius’s mind! They were falling so quickly that there was no way to stop it.

Now that they know the truth, however, they’re learning to forgive each other and move past it. But how can they when they’re just as in love with each other as they were before? Why would they risk it all if it could disappear all the same? They knew how this movie ended, why would they watch it again?

“And I can go anywhere I want. Anywhere I want, just not home.”

my tears ricochet

This song is Sirius to many people all at once, so let me break it down a little.

The majority of the song is Sirius to the people who believed him to be the spy. To have killed his best friends. The fact that he was never given a chance to explain himself and was just locked up; he’s feeling a lot of resentment. Sirius wants to know why on earth they care so much about it when he was “suppoedly” the one to have destroyed everything. Why is the focus on him? Why aren’t they focused on James or Lily or Marlene or Dorcas or the people who died in the war? If he’s dead to them, then why do they act like he exists?

The bridge is him towards Regulus. Regulus died, for reasons that Sirius will probably never know. He talks to the Regulus star, because it’s all he has left, even though he left him years ago. He probably wonders if Regulus saved himself from ending up like Sirius. He probably wonders if Regulus was right. Not about pureblood supremacy, but about keeping quiet and leaving it be.

I think the last chorus is Sirius towards Peter. Throwing Sirius under the bus will only disadvantage Peter in the long run. Why would you willingly stay a rat for 13 years?

"I'm a mirrorball. I can change everything about me to fit in. You are not like the regulars. The masquerade revelers. Drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten."

mirrorball

Mirrorball was a little tricky at first cause it's just kind of ✨ominous manipulation✨ to be quite honest and at first, I think Mo was thinking Sirius? But then I kind of looked deeper into the lyrics that I listed above and was like "Hear me out… It's Peter's internal monologue convincing himself into becoming a death eater." and we were both like "Woah."

seven

"Sweet tea in the summer, cross my heart won't tell no other."

So, I think we can all come to the agreement that from the bridge to the end of the song, it's James talking to Sirius. This kind of pure, compassionate, and beautiful friendship is such a special part of this fandom. They had such a special bond and I think that they're basically the definition of "Chosen Family."

However, the more I think about it, I think that everything from before the bridge is incredibly Regulus and Pandora coded. The difference between the Black Brother's closest friendships and how that kind of influenced their decisions. James gave Sirius a safe space, whereas Pandora was Regulus's safe space. Do you understand what I'm getting at?

august

So, I haven’t read ATYD but I know the basic concept of who Grant Chapman is and what he did and all that, and Mo was very insistent on this song being Grant, and I completely agree.

“So much for summer love and saying “us,” cause you weren’t mine to lose.”

Grant was a stand-in for Sirius in some way. I think both he and Remus knew that, but Grant fell for Remus, he couldn’t help it! And he knew Remus loved him, but he wasn’t Sirius and he’d never be Sirius. But that doesn’t make it any less bittersweet for Grant, knowing that Remus is happier off with Sirius. In the same way that Jegulus was necessary for James’s character growth, Grant was necessary for Remus’s.

this is me trying

So I was certain this was Black Brothers and Mo was certain this was Regulus, so I’m gonna mix them. In the bridge specifically, I can see Regulus longing for Sirius after he left. The parties? The weird pureblood cult meetings his family had. It was hard for Regulus to even walk around their house because it was not the same without Sirius. The “one screen in his town” is Sirius being Regulus’s only escape. (Cause you watch movies on a screen? And movies tend to be an escape from reality? Look at me. I’m smart). And Regulus is also struggling with this internal battle because if he leaves, he’ll put himself and Sirius in danger, but if he stays, he’ll have to do things he knows deep down in his heart he doesn’t want to do. This is him trying.

“And it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound. It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you. You're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town.”

“It's born from just one single glance. But it dies and it dies and it dies a million little times.”

illicit affairs

Okay, before I get into this song, I want to clarify that we’re not implying that any of these characters were unfaithful.

There’s a difference between an affair (long- term cheating) and an affair (a pastime experience). I’m not the kind of person to promote cheating or adultery in my stories, because I think it’s such a frustrating topic to discuss. I wouldn’t ship people who went out of their way to hurt their partners. That being said, the word “affair” here is being used in the same way the words “event” or “incident” would. Obviously the word “illicit” means forbidden, so our interpretation of “illicit affairs” is just a “secret relationship.”

I think you might understand who I’m getting at here… if you guessed Jegulus, you’d be correct! James and Regulus were a secret, but not in the way you think. Their friends knew, Sirius knew, James’s parents probably knew, but Regulus’s family could not know. No one outside of their circle could know. (Reminds me of another Taylor Swift lyric. “You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath.” James kept Regulus as a secret, only because Regulus wanted him to, but Regulus held on to James like he was his life support). It was almost as if they were having an affair, and like most affairs, they die.

Also, the bridge; lets discuss.

The first part of the bridge is James to Regulus. James was a mess after leaving Regulus because he couldn’t fix him. He couldn’t help him. (Well actually, he might’ve been able to but he left when Regulus needed him the most so-) The “colors” that Regulus showed him were 1: that the world isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, 2: that James cannot fix everything, and 3: the maturity that James gained from their relationship.

“And you wanna scream don't call me "kid," don't call me "baby.” Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me. You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else.”

Again, Regulus was ripped to shreds after their break up, and he made some really foolish choices afterwards. The so-called “secret language” that James taught him, was vulnerability. Sure, he can talk about things with Barty or Evan, but with James he wasn’t expected to pull himself together. He could just exist with James and everything would be fine. Until it wasn’t.

“Don't call me "kid," don't call me "baby.” Look at this idiotic fool that you made me. You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else.”

“A string that pulled me. Out of all the wrong arms right into that dive bar. Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire. Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons. One single thread of gold tied me to you”

invisble string

This one was tough, because there are so many couples that start out as these wholesome, pure, lovely relationships, but we quickly vetoed most of them.

Wolfstar: This song is literally about the concept of destiny and fate, and although Sirius and Remus were quite literally meant to be together, destiny kept pulling them apart.

Jily: I guess Jily are also quite literally the definition of fate, considering their matching patroni, the prophecy, etc. But Jily is also quite literally the definition of slow-burn, so again, this song doesn’t fit them.

Rosekiller: I guess you could argue they were fate, but they’re way too angsty.

Dorlene: Again, soulmates but way too angsty + they were rivals at the start.

This is where I came to the realization that every single couple in this fandom ends in tragic death… but then I thought about it some more.

Xenophilius and Pandora- JUST LET ME FINISH.

Yes, I am well aware that Pandora dies, but from what we know in canon, it was a freak accident. She wasn’t murdered like Marlene, Dorcas, the Potters, technically Evan, and Sirius (Yes, even if Sirius hadn’t fallen into the veil, he would’ve died). She didn’t risk her life like Regulus and Remus. She wasn’t driven to insanity like the Longbottoms and Barty (by the dementors kiss) She was experimenting, something she loved to do. She probably died happy for all we know!

I also think Pandora was probably esoteric (she believed in crystals, chakras, astrology, etc), so I think she also might’ve believed in fate. And considering the fact that Xenophilius and her relationship was so perfect, they probably were fate. They were classic friends to lovers, and they had the happiest ending out of all the marauders. Pandora was able to raise her daughter until she was nine, more than Lily and James ever got to do, and Xenophilius continued to raise Luna even after she died. (Yes, I’m aware he technically betrayed Harry, however we know he was a good person at heart and that prior to the Battle of Hogwarts, he openly supported Harry. The death eaters had kidnapped his daughter, I honestly don’t blame him that much.

Oh and also, Xenophilius was probably her only friend during her 7th year, considering 1: the older marauders had all graduated and 2: the pantheon’s falling out, so that’s why I used the lyrics I chose!

mad woman

For Mo, this song is blatantly Pandora, and for me it’s Dorcas. But, (again) it’s been a while since we discussed this, so I have a new narrative I’d like to propose to you. (Because we both had the same concept, just different characters.)

“Does a scorpion sting when fighting back? They strike to kill and you know I will.”

It’s both of them, from the perspective of Barty, Evan, and Regulus. They call them “mad women” because they don’t agree with their pureblood ideologies and want to be death eaters. The lyric “Everytime you call me crazy, I get more crazy,” feels like something Evan would think after all his fights with his sister. The lyric “It’s obvious that wanting me dead has really brought you two together,” seems like something Regulus would think. Obviously, I don’t think Pandora and Dorcas wanted him dead (considering the fact that Pandora definitely checked in on Regulus from time to time), but they wanted the bad part of him gone. And since they both left the rest of the Pantheon, that would’ve resulted in them growing closer.

And I guess in a way, they both went mad, but it’s up to your imagination. Dorcas went mad because she literally tried to go after the people who killed her girlfriend. And Pandora went mad because (if you headcanon this) she died trying to help Regulus destroy a horcrux.

If there was a song that played during a slow-motion montage of October 31st, 1981 the second Sirius finds out about the death and rushes over to the Potters, this would be it. It’s Sirius seeing his best friends lifeless body. The lyrics “With you I serve, with you I fall down,” symbolizes the way that when James “fell” (died), Sirius also “fell,” (falsely-accused) and even though it was unintentional, they went down together. Sirius felt like it was his fault. He switched the secret keeper and if only he’d trusted Remus enough, maybe it wouldn’t have happened.

Epiphany

“And some things you just can't speak about.”

"In the garden, would you trust me if I told you it was just a summer thing? I'm only 17, I don't know anything, but I know I miss you."

betty

Again, I'm using the concept of the "affair" love story in folklore as instead the story of a secret relationship, so no adultery was committed in the making of this post. 💀

Basically, I think this song is James's guilt when he's falling for Lily all over again, but he's still not completely over Regulus. (Of course, he and Regulus are dead and gone at this point, but it still lingers).

It's him thinking through what he would tell Lily if she ever asked him if he still loved Regulus. (I don't think Lily would've cared personally, lol).

Also in my mind I think this song has to be from James's perspective, solely because of the lyric "She said "James get in!" (I'm now literally realizing that that line is mentioning how he fell into the affair… well that ruins everything… scrap that idea).

Regulus and him were kind of an affair in the way that it was never meant to last. And also, while James may not have had feelings for Lily at that very moment, it was obvious that James was in love with both Regulus and Lily. (Again- no cheating).

I don't know, Betty's kind of a tough one.

peace

This song is about Jily. Lily finding peace in the friendship she has with James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, Marlene, Mary, everyone now that she's away from Severus. But she also knows there will never fully be peace with them, because of her blood status.

"Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other. Family I chose now that I see your brother as my brother."

And she wants to know if she's enough for James, even though she knows he's knee deep in love with her, but she gets worried because what if they die? What if they don't get to live the life they'd always dreamed of living? No matter how wonderful their life may seem together, she knows that there's always darkness around the corner, and she wonders if it's because of her.

hoax

This song is how Remus feels knowing that the person he trusted the most in life with his deepest and darkest secrets was supposedly worthy of commiting a crime just as dark. That's it. Don't have much else to say here 😭

"You knew it still hurts underneath my scars when they pulled me apart but what you did was just as dark."

the lakes

If this song isn't Regulus Black, then we don't know what is.

"Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die."

~

Okay wow that was a long one! If you made it this far, thank you!! Make sure to look out for Lover, coming soon to a theater near you!!!

[lv3psh]

𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐰𝐨𝐧 - 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐢 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗮 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗽, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗳𝗳 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲, 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸. 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗴𝘄𝗼𝗻 𝘂𝗻𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱𝗹𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝘃𝗲 𝗯𝘂𝗶𝗹𝘁 𝗮𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗴𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗿𝘂𝗺𝗯𝗹𝗲. 𝗮𝘀 𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗻𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗱𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗸 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: ~𝟯.𝟮𝗸

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: 𝘀𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗯𝘂𝗿𝗻, 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁, 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗱𝗯𝘀𝗳!𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗴𝘄𝗼𝗻 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘂𝗺𝗮 (𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴), 𝗲𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀, 𝘀𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗯𝘂𝗿𝗻 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗯𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗴𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗱!

𝗮/𝗻: 𝗸𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗳𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗴𝘄𝗼𝗻! 𝗶'𝗺 𝘀𝗼 𝗲𝘅𝗰𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗺𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗮𝗵𝗵𝗵𝗵𝗵! 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 （╹◡╹）♡

you had once believed in love with every ounce of your being. in fact, there was a time when you thought you had found the one — the person who would stand by your side through everything. you had fallen deeply, recklessly, for someone who promised you the world. they painted love as a grand adventure, filled with excitement, passion, and endless possibilities.

but over time, the cracks in that perfect image began to show. it started small — forgotten dates, unanswered texts, subtle shifts in how they spoke to you. you convinced yourself it was nothing, that everyone has off days, but as the weeks turned into months, it became impossible to ignore.

love, which had once felt all-encompassing, began to feel suffocating. you poured your heart out, tried to communicate, to hold onto what you thought was slipping away, but it felt like you were grasping at air. then, it all came crashing down one fateful night.

you discovered the truth in the most painful way — through a mutual friend who had seen your partner with someone else. when you confronted them, they didn’t deny it. instead, they gave you a half-hearted apology, claiming they didn’t want to hurt you but had “fallen out of love.” the words shattered you, echoing in your mind long after they were gone.

what hurt the most wasn’t the betrayal itself, but the way they had led you to believe everything was fine. you’d been giving your all to someone who had already checked out of the relationship, leaving you to fall alone. after that, you swore off love.

"i would never fall in love again..."

you couldn’t risk going through that again — feeling that kind of vulnerability, only for it to be used against you. the heartbreak left a deep scar and no matter how much time passed, the pain lingered. you convinced yourself that love was dangerous, that it was better to build walls than to allow anyone close enough to tear you apart again.

so, you buried your heart under layers of fear and mistrust, choosing solitude over the risk of being hurt again. even though a part of you longed for love, you told yourself it was safer this way. no one could hurt you if you never let them in.

but deep down, you still wondered — was it possible for someone to love you the way you had always dreamed of, without breaking your heart in the process?

the city lights blurred as the rain streamed down the window, streaking in patterns that felt oddly soothing. you sat in the café, absentmindedly swirling the foam in your coffee. the soft murmur of conversations around you faded into the background as your thoughts wandered, floating somewhere between the present and the past.

it had been almost two years since you’d last allowed yourself to feel anything for anyone. the memory of your last relationship still lingered like a shadow, darkening every thought of love and trust. you used to believe in love at first sight, in the romantic ideals that so many around you seemed to find effortlessly. but after him — after the betrayal, the promises broken so easily... you weren’t sure you believed in much of anything anymore. so you swore off relationships. you swore off anything that could make you feel that vulnerable again.

the café door opened with a soft chime, letting in a gust of wind and a handful of raindrops. you didn’t bother looking up at first. it wasn’t until you heard your name — spoken with a warmth you hadn’t heard in years, that your heart skipped a beat. “y/n?”

you froze, your breath catching in your throat. you knew that voice. slowly, hesitantly, you raised your eyes from your coffee cup and found yourself staring directly into the kind, familiar face of yang jungwon.

he was soaked from the rain, his black hair sticking to his forehead, and his clothes damp from the downpour. but he still had that smile. that same soft, boyish smile you remembered from when you were younger. it was the kind of smile that could make the world feel a little less heavy, a little less complicated.

you blinked, struggling to find words. “jungwon…?”he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his wet hair. “yeah, it’s me. long time no see!”

long time indeed. the two of you had been inseparable when you were kids. you grew up on the same street, spent your summers playing together in the neighborhood park, and shared all your childhood secrets under the old oak tree in your backyard. but as you got older, life had pulled you in different directions, and eventually, you lost touch. it had been years since you last saw him, but now, here he was — standing in front of you like no time had passed at all.

you offered him a small smile, though your heart was racing. “yeah… it’s been a while.”

jungwon’s eyes softened as he slid into the seat across from you, still smiling. “i couldn’t stay away forever, though.”

the conversation flowed more easily than you expected. you asked about what he’d been up to, and he told you about how he’d been focusing on his music career with enhypen, how busy life had been since debuting and how much he missed home. as he spoke, you realized something: jungwon had always been there for you. he had always been the kind of person who knew how to make you laugh when you were down, who listened when no one else would, who cared in ways that felt too easy, too genuine.

over the next few weeks, Jungwon kept his promise of not staying away. “i'll never let you go again like i did.”

he started texting you casually, checking in and asking if you wanted to hang out. at first, you were hesitant. you’d built walls around your heart, walls that you weren’t ready to let anyone, especially Jungwon, break down. but oh how patient he was. he didn’t push, didn’t demand anything from you. he was just… there. and that, you realized, was more than enough.

one night, as the autumn chill began to set in, you found yourself sitting beside him on a park bench, the same park you used to play in as kids. the leaves crunched underfoot as the two of you walked, your breath visible in the crisp air. for a while, neither of you spoke. the silence between you was comfortable, filled with the unspoken understanding that had always existed between you and jungwon. finally, he broke the quiet.

“do you remember the time we buried a time capsule here?” he asked, his voice soft and full of nostalgia.

you laughed, the memory surfacing easily. “yeah. we were, what, ten? you insisted we dig it up in exactly twenty years.”

he grinned. “twenty years seemed like a lifetime back then. but now it doesn’t seem that long, does it?” you shook your head, smiling despite yourself. “no. it really doesn’t.”

the conversation drifted after that and as you walked, you found yourself wondering how things had changed so much, and yet, how some things remained the same.

jungwon was still jungwon: kind, patient, and steady. but you… you weren’t the same person you used to be. you’d been hurt, betrayed by someone you thought you could trust. and even though you wanted to believe that things could be different with jungwon, the fear was still there. the fear of opening up, of trusting again, of letting yourself love someone only to be hurt in the end.

jungwon seemed to sense your hesitation, though he never said anything. instead, he let you take the lead, never asking for more than you were willing to give.

it wasn’t until one particularly difficult night that things began to shift.

you had a terrible day at work — stress piling up, and your boss breathing down your neck. by the time you got home, you felt like you were on the verge of breaking. you hadn’t planned on calling jungwon but before you knew it, your fingers were dialing his number.

he picked up on the first ring. “y/n? everything okay?”his voice was so warm, so gentle, that it nearly broke you.

you swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears at bay. “i… i don’t know. i just… i didn’t want to be alone tonight.”

there was a pause on the other end and then jungwon spoke again, his voice filled with understanding. “i’ll be there in ten minutes.”

true to his word, jungwon showed up at your door, still dressed in his usual laid-back fashion: a hoodie and jeans, but with a concerned look in his eyes. he didn’t ask any questions. he didn’t need to. he simply pulled you into a hug and for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to lean into him, to feel the comfort and warmth of someone who truly cared.

he stayed with you that night, not saying much, just keeping you company. the two of you sat on your couch, wrapped in a blanket, watching some random movie that neither of you were really paying attention to. and for the first time in years, you felt… safe. you felt like maybe, just maybe, you could trust someone again.

over the following months, things between you and jungwon slowly, cautiously, began to change.

he was still patient, still kind, but there was something else there now — something that neither of you wanted to acknowledge outright but both of you felt all the same. it was in the way his hand would brush against yours when the two of you walked together, the way he looked at you like you were the only person that mattered in the world, the way your heart fluttered every time you saw his name pop up on your phone.

and yet, you were still scared. scared of letting yourself fall, scared of what would happen if you did. scared of the inevitable hurt that you were certain would come. but jungwon… jungwon never seemed to doubt.

he never wavered in his feelings, never hesitated to show you, in small ways, how much he cared. he never pushed you to say anything you weren’t ready to say, never made you feel like you had to rush.

after a quiet dinner together, you found yourself standing outside your apartment building, the cool breeze ruffling your hair as you looked up at him. the streetlights cast a warm glow over his face, and for a moment, you let yourself imagine what it would be like — what it would feel like — to let yourself fall.

“jungwon,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. he looked down at you, his eyes full of warmth and patience. “i’m scared.”

he didn’t ask why. he didn’t need to. instead, he reached out, gently taking your hand in his. “i know,” he murmured. “but i’m not going anywhere. i’ll wait as long as you need. i’ve waited this long, haven’t I?”

“oh, let me hold you.”

the sincerity in his voice made your heart clench. you weren’t used to this — to someone waiting for you, understanding your fears, and staying despite them. it was terrifying and comforting all at once. you were so used to love being fleeting, to it slipping through your fingers before you had a chance to grasp it. but with jungwon, it was different. love wasn’t rushing you. love was patient, steady, waiting for you to catch up.

you exhaled slowly, the weight of the moment pressing down on you but not in a way that suffocated. instead, it felt grounding — like maybe, for the first time in a long time, you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

"i don’t want to hurt you," you whispered, your voice breaking at the edges, your greatest fear slipping into the open. "i don’t want to mess this up."

jungwon’s hand tightened around yours, the warmth of his skin grounding you in that moment. his gaze softened as he looked at you, his eyes filled with nothing but understanding.

“you won’t,” he said softly, his voice steady and sure. “we’re in this together, okay? and no matter what happens, i’m not going anywhere. i promise.”

the weight of his words hung between you, sinking deep into your chest. you wanted to believe him. more than anything, you wanted to believe that maybe this time would be different. that maybe, just maybe, love wouldn’t leave you in ruins again.

you nodded, your throat tight with unshed tears. "okay." jungwon smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that familiar, boyish way. “okay.”

the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months.

jungwon became a constant presence in your life, not just a reminder of the past, but a promise of a future. slowly, piece by piece, you began to let your walls down. it wasn’t easy. there were nights when the fear would creep back in, the memories of your past heartbreak lingering like a ghost in the corners of your mind. but every time you faltered, jungwon was there, steady and unshakable, waiting for you with open arms.

you found yourself sitting on your couch, curled up next to him as a movie played in the background. you weren’t paying attention to the screen, though. instead, your focus was on the way jungwon’s arm was draped over your shoulders, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your skin.

“hey, jungwon?” you asked, your voice quiet in the stillness of the room.

“hm?” he hummed, not taking his eyes off the screen, though you could tell from the tone of his voice that he was listening.

“i've been thinking.”you stated, hesitation dripping from your sentence, as he turned his head to look at you, his expression soft but curious. “about what?”

you hesitated for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip as you tried to find the right words. “about us. about… everything. jungwon didn’t say anything, but he shifted slightly, turning his body toward you so that he could give you his full attention. you appreciated that about him — how he always made you feel like what you had to say mattered, like he was truly listening.

“i guess i’ve just been… scared. scared of letting myself feel this way again. but i’m starting to realize that maybe… maybe it’s okay to be scared. maybe that’s just part of it, you know?”

jungwon’s eyes softened, his expression unreadable, but you could see the tenderness there, the quiet understanding. he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a way that made your heart stutter.

“you don’t have to be scared with me, y/n,” he murmured, his voice low and full of quiet conviction. “i’m not going anywhere. i’ve never gone anywhere, and i never will.”

his words washed over you, filling the cracks in your heart with a warmth you hadn’t felt in years. it wasn’t an all-consuming fire, the way love had felt before. it wasn’t a storm, sweeping you up in its intensity. no, this was different. this was the kind of love that grew slowly, quietly, until one day you woke up and realized it had been there all along. and suddenly, you weren’t scared anymore.

that night, everything changed.

as the movie played on in the background, you found yourself leaning into him, your head resting against his chest. his heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, a quiet reminder of everything he’d promised you. and in that moment, you let yourself believe it. you let yourself believe in him. “i love you, jungwon.”

"i would never fall in love again until... i found you."

the words slipped out before you had time to second-guess them, before you could let your fear hold you back. you felt him stiffen slightly beside you, and for a moment, your heart stopped. but then his arms tightened around you, pulling you closer.

“i love you too,” he whispered, his voice soft but filled with certainty. “i’ve always loved you.” the weight of those words settled over you and for the first time in years, you felt something you hadn’t dared to feel in a long time. hope.

the months that followed were a slow and steady unraveling of everything you’d built to protect yourself.

with Jungwon, you didn’t need walls. you didn’t need to hide behind your fear. because for the first time, you were with someone who didn’t just say they loved you — he expressed it, every single day. in the way he held your hand, in the way he listened when you spoke, in the way he never once made you feel like you were too much or not enough. he just… loved you. and that was more than you ever thought you deserved.

one night, as the two of you sat on the roof of your apartment building, watching the sun set over the city, you realized just how far you’d come. you’d let yourself love again. you’d let yourself trust again. qnd it was all because of him.

“i was so scared,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you leaned into his side. “i was scared of getting hurt again. but you… you made me realize that love doesn’t have to hurt.”

jungwon smiled, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “love isn’t supposed to hurt,” he murmured. “it’s supposed to heal. and i’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure you never feel that kind of hurt again.”

you turned your head to look at him, your heart swelling in your chest at the sight of his warm, gentle smile. he looked at you like you were the only person in the world, like you were the most important thing in his life. and maybe you were. “i believe you,” you whispered, your voice steady and sure. and for the first time, you realized that you truly did.

years from now, when you look back on that moment, you’ll remember it as the day you finally found yourself.

you found love. you found trust. you found someone who would never let you fall. and most importantly, you found the courage to believe in love again.

"i was lost within the darkness but then i found him... i found you."

because until you found jungwon, you didn’t think love could be like this—steady, unwavering, and kind. you didn’t think it was something you were capable of feeling again. but with him, you knew. you knew that love wasn’t just a feeling. it was a choice. a choice to stay, to trust, and to believe in the future, no matter how scary it might seem.

and with him, you knew you would always choose love.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 © 𝗹𝘃𝟯𝗽𝘀𝗵. 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱. 𝘂𝗻𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘇𝗲𝗱 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝘀 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗵𝗶𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗱.

[citrine-elephant]

welp... not the worst thing he's been through this week. maybe the weirdest. damn bad guys are getting crazier by the day.

bonus below:

couldn't decide which one i liked more lol

[deadqueernoldor]

Thinking thoughts about those from Cuivienen and how they later treated the Valar, especially after Cuivienen was destroyed.

I imagine a foundation of sorrow and a layer of betrayal and pettiness. They had promised safety. And how did it turn out? Kin of Tata and Tatie their first leaders, slain in Valinor by the Dark Hunter from which the Valar promised protection in Valinor.

And then, the War of Wrath comes and with it the destruction of Cuivienen.

If any of those were re-embodied in Aman, I wonder if they make it a point to always turn their back to Valar and Maiar. I wonder if they only speak in the tongue they had first devised all those millennia ago and spoke in Cuivienen before time and different kindreds changed the tongue, not Sindarin or Quenya from the Great Journey's time or later. I wonder if they sing songs in their ancient tongue, songs about the beauty and unsullied health of Cuivienen every time any of the Ainur are near.

I wonder if the Valar feel any shame when those who they once looked upon in wonder and love gaze back at them with indifference or disgust.

[caelum-in-the-avatarverse]

Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.

So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.

Lurkers really are great, tho

I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.

Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.

The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.

Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.

There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.

I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available. 

I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.

I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.

So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.

But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.

I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.

Should we gatekeep fandom?

I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--

A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.

That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.

See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.

So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.

The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.

And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”

Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.

Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.

And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.

However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community. 

I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.

And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company? 

And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)

But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.

Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.

Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.

Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists. 

While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:

[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom 

OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]

-

“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.

I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.

It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits. 

So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.

And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.

So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.

Think of it like a garden gate

When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.

The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people. 

Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it. 

Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.

My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.

But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.

I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.

Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.

And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.

Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.

There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.

[mickandmusings]

third times the charm

pairing: tyler owens x f!reader

word count: 3.8k

summary: life has a funny way of putting people in your path, and ultimately making them part of your life. but what happens when the one person you never want to see stumbles in over and over again, a disastrous tornado tearing up your path of moving on?

aka: the two times tyler owens enters and, consequently, leaves, your life at the wrong time, and the one time he comes at the perfect moment and finally stays.

warnings: reader is described in a feminine manner; why are we ignoring his bull rider trope? cause i'm not babes xx; angsty mainly, but fluff too; lovers to enemies back to lovers (sorry); this author knows nothing about tornadoes or weather so sorry

shoutout to megan moroney and her banger new album where this title and idea come from :)

-

i.

"What do you mean you're leaving?!"

Tyler shuts the tailgate of his red pick-up with a loud slam, the cowboy hat on his head nearly flying off with the force. Y/N stood just a few feet away, her arms crossed over her torso as her chest heaved in short, shaking breaths. The sunlight hits her just right, and the gold chain around her neck glimmers in the sunlight. It catches Tyler's attention from the corner of his eye-it had been burned into his mind from the moment he'd bought it with a chunk of his earnings from last year's rodeo. The chain was delicate, simple, but the charm had been the main appeal: it was gold, the same shade as the chain, but in the center of the small heart shaped pendant sat a capital 'T'. She'd worn it since he'd given it to her for a birthday present, and it had been the center piece of even their most intimate moments-her bare beneath him with only the glittering jewelry adorning her as he had her unraveling under his touch. Even the thought of it had heat traveling up Tyler's neck, and he swallowed down the feeling, along with all of the guilt bubbling to the surface.

"I'm leavin', simple as that."

"Ty, I-I don't understand. You get bucked off one time and you're giving up?! You've been riding since we were kids, I-"

He turns to her, emerald eyes blazing with an emotion he couldn't put a label on.

"I didn't just get 'bucked off', I almost got my head trampled in case you forgot!" His voice is laced with anger. He's not angry with her, he's angry with himself. After a series of unfortunate injuries in last month's local rodeo, Tyler knew he couldn't ride again, it would kill him. He'd spent the last few weeks in physical therapy and doctor's offices just to make sure the damn bull hadn't left behind more than scars.

It was better this way, he could leave his town behind, and forget about the deep, gut-twisting feeling of failure that sat like acid in his stomach. But leaving his hometown also meant leaving her.

Tyler had fallen for Y/N their junior year of high school, and they'd rarely been seen without one another ever since then. She was sweet and shy to his brash and confident, his biggest supporter-always sitting in the stands for all of his rides-whether he was the talk of the town or stumbling home, his shotgun rider, and the girl who wore his heart (literally and figuratively) on a chain around her neck. Looking at her now, with tears lining under her gorgeous eyes, he wanted to just forget all of his plans and pull her into his arms. He wanted to reassure her that he'd stay here, that he'd give her the life that he'd promised her-apple pie and babies, the perfect picket-fence life she deserved.

"Tyler, you-you can't be serious! W-What about your parents, your plans, hell, Tyler, what about me?!" Her shoulders now moved as she let out shuddering breaths, eyebrows furrowed as she grew frustrated. "Tyler Owens you promised me, you promised me a farmhouse, and a wrap-around porch, a-and babies! And now you're just gonna take off to God-knows-where to what? Storm chase?"

She stops and lets out a dry chuckle. She'd been 'chasing' with him before, vivid memories of him scaring her shitless chasing tornadoes in his truck, only to 'apologize' to her by making love in the backseat after the storm had passed. Through their time together, she, too, had grown to love the storms. Y/N took her camera into the storms with them, more than ready to capture the freakishly beautiful moments of pure disaster before it struck. She'd stand in the pouring rain next to him, laughing as wind whipped hair around her face. He'd snap a picture of her with her own camera that she'd set aside and she'd roll her eyes. They'd been happy, bonded by a mutual love of mother nature's chaos and one another. Now, she turns her back to face him, shaking her head as her bottom lip trembles.

"Ya know, I should've listened to everyone who told me to stay away from you in high school, that you'd just hurt me. I didn't believe them, not one bit, because I know you. You're running because you're scared. You don't have to run, Ty. You've never run from your fears, for God's sake you ride them! What the hell are you thinking?!"

Tears stream down her face, and Tyler feels his resolve slipping. He hadn't thought it through, not really, and now as she stands in front of him, he realizes he's only hurting her more and more. He needed an out, he needed to skip town, no matter who it hurt.

"I'm thinking that I'm a fuckin' failure at everything, no matter what I try! The only thing I'm good at is storms, chasin' them, getting close enough to see something! I fail at everything, Y/N/N, and if I stay, I'll just fail you, too. Over and over."

"Tyler, you've never failed me," she brings her hands to either side of his face, her thumb brushing a cut that still hadn't scarred over from his fall. Her eyes were blurry and her hands trembled. "Please, stay." Her voice was hardly a whisper, pleading desperately.

"You know I can't."

She nodded solemnly, wiping tears so she could take a final look into his eyes. She gave no warning when she launched her arms around his neck, all but hanging onto him like a child. He hugged her tighter than he ever had, and when she let go, he placed a final heated goodbye kiss on her lips. Y/N looks at him, her brain screaming pleas to make him stay, but she simply kisses his cheek before speaking.

"C-call me when you get there?"

He takes one last glance at her, taking her in completely, as if trying to memorize her. His eyes land on the jewelry adorning the spot just below her collarbone, the gold shining in the sunset, knowing he'd never see it on her again-if he ever even saw her again.

"You'll be the first person I call, baby."

Y/N's call never came.

She spent the summer miserable, but refused to take off the gold chain she hid under shirts. It burned her skin in a metaphorical sense, but she ignored it, just like the heartbreak that had festered into deep resentment for Tyler Owens. She'd decided to take off to the local university for a clean start, somewhere new, somewhere his ghost wouldn't haunt her. Things had begun to look up, and she found herself smiling again. The morning before her first day of classes, she almost took the chain off, but couldn't bring herself to do so.

When she spotted his tall figure sitting a row ahead of her in her Intro to Meteorology class, she pretended not to know who he was. It was only fair, he'd done the same to her. For a reason that neither of them could vocalize, they begin to hate one another. Without knowing it, Tyler had become the storm that had sparked her into chasing after danger forever, the one that had left destruction so fatal she wasn't sure if she'd ever recover.

-

ii.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Y/N rolls her eyes and nearly throws her laptop across her dorm room when she looks down at her field partner pairing. The name in bold stares back at her like some sick joke.

Tyler Owens.

She shuts her laptop with a force that could shatter glass and slams her face into her pillow to let out a scream that could have easily been heard four counties over. The universe had to hate her.

With one glance at her watch, she hops from her bed and packs her duffel, her camera slung around her other shoulder. After silently praying that this storm takes her away in one quick swoop, she opens the door to her room and stumbles down the stairs to the lobby, where he was waiting for her outside the double doors. She can already feel her skin flaming with anger when she catches sight of his towering frame, baseball cap thrown backwards over his head.

"'Bout fuckin' time sweetheart, thought the storm would pass before we even got out there!"

"Oh, kiss my ass, Owens."

She rolls her eyes and climbs into the red truck she had once been a permanent fixture in, feeling almost like nothing had changed since the last time she'd crawled into the passenger side. She had half a mind to let down the driver's side visor to see if her picture still sat inside it, but Tyler climbs in the second she thinks about it. The half hour drive is uncomfortable, silent, and laced with tension so thick both halves of the couple begin to wonder if the air supply is getting thin. But as the storm approaches, both of their eyes are locked on the massive twisting figure just ahead of them. Y/N reaches for her camera, focusing the lens as best as she can through the windshield of the truck. She sighs when the view is less than satisfactory. Without much thought, she begins to move the window crank on the door to let down the window.

"What the hell are you doin'?" Tyler's voice breaks their silence.

"What does it look like, Owens? Getting a better shot." Her body hangs halfway out the window, camera leaning out the window as she moves the lens and clicks.

"Get your ass in the truck, I'm not payin' your hospital bills when you fall out and I run over you."

She rolls her eyes and ignores him, almost her entire body hanging out the window.

"Okay, okay, get in the truck, I'll get you closer, Jesus."

She pulls herself back into the truck and rolls the window back up as Tyler moves forward down the muddy path, closer to the storm now building ahead. The wind and rain grow more intense, shaking even the bulky vehicle that could easily withstand even the most treacherous of conditions. The spiraling tunnel only moves at a more pummeling speed, and Y/N's sharp shout fills the air.

"Stop the truck!"

He hits the brake and before the truck even stops, Y/N's rolling out of the passenger side, camera raised as she captures a monster of a storm. Tyler finds himself silent, momentarily distracted-her hair blowing with the force of the wind, the smile drawn across her face, and the long sleeve button down she'd been wearing was slipping down her shoulders, exposing her tank top and-wait-he raises an eyebrow, his heart stopping. Against her neck sat a gold chain he knew too well. It stops him completely in his tracks, shocked that she still wore his initial around her neck. The sound of a roaring train pulls him from his thoughts and sends him leaning out his own door.

"Y/N," he's shouting over the loud winds. "GET YOUR ASS IN THE TRUCK!"

The barrel of wind only gets closer, the fierceness of wind making Tyler's heart race. The girl outside his truck, however, only smiles wider, raising her camera for another shot of the approaching storm.

"I'M FINE, TYLER. WIND'S NOT EVEN THAT BAD!"

Tyler huffs as his voice, raspy from yelling, shouts again.

"THAT WASN'T A REQUEST, SWEETHEART. GET YOUR ASS IN THIS TRUCK!"

She ignores his shouts, only squinting her eyes at the horizon as the wind picks up another notch, making the shirt now halfway down on her arms blow like a flag in the wind. Tyler gives her a minute to comply, hoping this was just a momentary phase of her being stubborn. After five minutes, Tyler cursed and stomped out of the truck over to her. He says nothing, picking her up over his shoulder.

"TYLER! WHAT THE FUCK?! PUT ME DOWN, ASSHOLE!"

He doesn't give in to her retorts, simply swinging her door open and shoving her into the passenger seat. He gets into his driver's side and slings his arm on her headrest, turning to back the truck around.

"What the hell is wrong with you?! Do you have some sort of sick kink where you get off on ruining my life? I had a perfect shot, it-"

"You had a perfect shot of getting sucked into a tornado is what you had, Y/N. You're gonna get yourself killed gettin' that fuckin' close!"

"Like you would care." Her voice isn't even a mumble, and Tyler hardly hears her over the sounds of the storm.

It sends a jab of pain through his heart he doesn't expect, and instead of saying anything, he lets her stew in anger in his passenger seat. When he drops her off at her dorm, she agrees to email him her half of the project, and a week later he receives it.

He opens the email to find exactly what he imagines, the most spectacular shots of a storm he's ever seen. After the report and photos are submitted, the two never speak to one another again. They both graduate under the same Arkansas sun, but lead different lives in the same area of the country. Y/N swears she sees his truck pass her every time she goes out to shoot, and he sees her in every girl that stands in a field with a camera.

Y/N would never admit that she has a burner account subscribed to his livestreams, or that she laughed and smiled as she watched him hoop and holler with his ragtag group of friends, memories of the chases they once went on filling her mind more fondly than painfully these days. And if she had one of the red and white shirts with his stupid cartoon face plastered against it, well, no one would ever know.

When Boone and the rest of his crew would stop for food and rest breaks, if Tyler saw her name plastered in a newspaper or magazine, he'd put it on the counter next to his plethora of snacks. He'd never admit he'd cut her articles out of them and kept them in a small scrapbook that lived in his glovebox, right next to the picture of her that once lived in his visor-only because a magazine cut-out clip of her lived there now, her smiling with a massive twin barrel storm behind her, the gold chain peeking from the shirt was wearing.

-

iii.

"Ty, man, this one's a beaut! She's unreal!"

Boone's voice filled Tyler's ears from the passenger seat, but as Tyler looked out at the horizon, his attention was far from the brunette that sat next to him. He saw her car before he saw her-the same rink-dink, decked out, black Subaru she'd had in college, meaning she was here on her own, not for business.

His green eyes darted to the field across from where it was parked, spotting her instantly as she stood in the tall grass, hair blowing as she brought her camera to her face, crouching down to get the perfect shot. She shook her head when she pulled back from it, enjoying the sight in front of her.

Tyler puts the truck in park and all but barrels out of the door, his boots taking him towards her, but not nearly fast enough.

"Jesus, who's that? And why's she got Ty all in a tizzy?" Boone leans over to Lilly, who gives him an incredulous look.

"That's Y/N Y/L/N, she's a storm photographer, apparently he's got some fan girl crush on her or somethin', he keeps her work in a binder."

"Holy shit! Tyler knows the Y/N Y/L/N?"

Tyler would've blushed and denied Lilly's statement vehemently, but he was too far away to hear. Instead, the whipping winds and the sound of Y/N's delightful laughter filled his ears.

"She's a beaut, huh?" Tyler's voice carries over the noise, falling on Y/N's ears. She takes a breath and turns to face him for the first time in years. She nods slowly.

"Yeah, she's gorgeous. Got some great shots."

Her throat feels dry as his eyes peer down at her. She finally braves a look up at him.

"Um, I'm not studying it or anything, just bored, really. I'll let you and your crew have her."

She gives him a small smile, but he notes it's genuine as she caps the lens on her camera.

"It was good to see you, Ty. Good luck."

"Y/N, wait. I-I need to ask you somethin'."

She pauses her steps, turning back to face the man in front of her. For a split second, he looks just like the younger version that had left her all those years ago-the hat, the belt buckle, but none of that same all consuming fear.

"Sure, go ahead."

"Why do you still wear it? I saw you, that time in college, and when you did that shoot outside of Kansas City, the picture they published of you, it-you can see it real clear."

Y/N stills, pushing back hair that's blowing in the wind as she looks at him. She could say a multitude of things-how she wore it because she'd gotten so used to always wearing it. That she wore it because she wanted to hold onto him the only way she could. She could lie and say that she used it as a good luck charm. None of them would be the truth, and she was sick of lying to him, so she simply told the truth.

"Well, all the best chasers, they carry their first storm with them, right?"

She pauses, realizing how vague that was.

"What I mean is, without you taking me through my first storm I never would've done this. I was terrified of them, and you and that stupid red truck of yours showed me how beautiful they can be, and now I capture their beauty for a living. I never would've had any of this without you, so-"

She shrugs, giving him a small chuckle. The silence suffocates as he looks at her.

"Tyler listen-"

"If you're gonna apologize, don't. I'm the one that should apologize, I left you all those years ago. That was real shitty of me, and I didn't give you a warnin' or a reason why. So, I'm sorry, for all of it."

She nods, giving him a smile. The quiet floods between them again, and she pushes back her hair again before she speaks.

"I-I watch your videos, y-your livestreams. You're still crazy, but it reminds me of when we used to chase, and you'd scare me to death, and then you'd, uh, 'apologize' for it and, sometimes it's like I'm there with you."

He laughs with her.

"I-I've got every newspaper and magazine clippin' you've ever been in. You're pictures they're-breathtakin', it feels like you're standin' in the field right there next to you. I guess that's just because I used to be and memories, ya know?"

She nodded, giving him a sweet smile, one that sends his heart racing. They both turn their attention to the horizon where the storm seems relatively calm, at least by their standards.

"Uh, Y/N? I'm sorry, I promised you somethin' all those years ago, and I never made good on it. I think about that a lot, and-just-I'm sorry."

"I forgave you a long time ago, Ty, we were kids." She pauses, tilting her head as she looks at the storm brewing. "Besides, I don't think I'm cut out for that life anymore, I like life on the road. I mean, where else do you get moments like this? The storms back home are wonders, but nothing like this."

"I agree with you there," he chuckles. His heart pounds, and the words slip out of his mouth before he can stop them. "I miss you though."

She cuts her eyes to his own, as if waiting for him to explain himself.

"You were my original chasin' partner, ya know? Plus, when things got scary, you never flinched, not really. This reporter I've got now? God help us all, can't stand much more than a strong wind."

Y/N laughs loudly before she shakes her head.

"Well, you might be in luck. I hate working for that magazine, I really, really do." She turns to face him, camera pulled close to her chest. "The Tornado Wranglers hiring? I'm looking for a job. I have a portfolio if you need it, references too."

Her statement is laced with sarcasm.

Tyler finds himself laughing now, a wide smile plastered across his face.

"I'm familiar with your work, have it on good graces that you're just what we're lookin' for. Lucky for you, we've always got room for one more, that is, if you'll have us. I gotta warn you, those over there are a handful."

"If they're anything like you, I'm likely to fall in love with them instantly."

Y/N doesn't register the words stumbling out of her mouth until they'd already filled the air between them. Without a word, Tyler grabs her hand, pulling her in closer than people who have a history like theirs should. His calloused fingers reach out to the gold pendant lying on her neck, moving it back and forth between its fingers. It had withstood their time apart-it was scratched and a little weather-worn, but, then again, so were they.

"The clasp broke about a year ago, the rest is all original. Pure gold, willing to sell it for a good offer. The guy at the pawn tried to undersell me, I know what I've got."

Tyler's chest warms, that sarcastic, witty humor he'd missed back in full force.

"Do you take alternate forms of payment?" He pulls her in by her waist with a cocky grin.

"Depends, Owens, what did you have in mind?"

He cocks his eyebrow, giving her a sort of contemplative look as his hands rest on the small of her back, hers around his neck.

"Well, I still owe you about-," He lifts his hand from around her and pretends to count on his fingers. "A billion apologies, we could chase this stunner of a storm, drop these characters back off at the motel, find us an empty field, and I could apologize like I used to...maybe?"

She shakes her head and pulls him in for a heated kiss. They're both smiling so hard its hardly a kiss, but the feelings are there.

"You've got yourself a deal, but I'm keeping the necklace."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, baby." He kisses her head, pulling her back towards his group of friends, who were now whistling at the pair, obviously catching the interaction. "Fair warning, after he finds out just who you are, Boone's likely to fall in love with you."

She raises her eyebrow, pulling away and heading towards the motley crew ahead of her.

"Guess you'll just have to chase me next."

-

taglist:

@fraaaaankiiiiieee

[little-diable]

Lightning - Tyler Owens (smut)

I mean, we all knew this would happen. I haven’t seen the movie yet, but I am DESPERATE for him. And as somebody who actually has something to do with studying tornadoes, I had to write this. I am obsessed with this fic, but I doubt this will get much attention, so please actually reblog it if you enjoyed reading it! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tyler and the reader are chasing tornadoes together, but when they have to step back and find shelter, things quickly change between them.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, handjob, kinda enemies to lovers, teasing and all that fun stuff

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (3k words)

Wind was blowing in her face, letting her strands dance in the air while her eyes flickered between her laptop screen and the dark sky. She was surrounded by her team, trying to ignore their shouts as they decided which direction to head in. (Y/n) was torn between too many options, not liking the way this afternoon was playing out. 

It was do or die, miss or hit one of the biggest tornadoes they had come across in a while. And yet the second cell that was currently forming gave off a somewhat more promising chance of catching enough data this time around. 

“Which way will it be, lightning?” Her breath hitched in her chest as he mumbled the words, front pressed against her back. The hairs on her arms began to rise, fully focused on his closeness, allowing her to pick up on the scent of his familiar cologne, on the way his breath fanned over the back of her neck as if he was about to kiss that very spot.

“Am I dreaming? Is Tyler Owens asking for my opinion?” She slowly turned towards the handsome man. Her eyes instantly found his piercing ones, getting lost in their intense gaze while he shot her one of his signature smirks. Fuck, if he weren’t such an asshole most of the time, she would easily give in to the pull she felt, allowing him to tug her towards his bed without having to fear about the aftermath. But if there was one thing (y/n) was sure of, it was that Tyler Owens was all about playing games, toying with a woman until he eventually grew bored. He was a personification of a thunderstorm, fast moving and never ready to settle.

“Don’t let it get to your head, pretty.” She clicked her tongue with a displeased expression tugging on her features. There was no time left to study him, to curse whoever had created him for making him look this handsome. They had to stay focused, at least until she got the data she needed for her project. 

“Alright, we’re heading east.” (Y/n) closed her laptop before reaching for her bag–the bag that was snatched from her grasp before she could protest. Tyler had slung it over his shoulder while tilting his head towards his truck, silently asking her to ride with him. 

On any other occasion she would have cursed him, would have told him to fuck off. But today, while being heavily understaffed, she needed any help she could get. And knowing that Tyler drove like the devil himself, she knew she had the best chance of arriving just in time with him by her side. 

His smirk grew wider the second she gave in, begrudgingly following Tyler while her eyes found the confused ones of her teammates. She only rolled her eyes at them, raising her shoulders and dropping them again as if she was wordlessly telling them that she was just as confused as they were, not seeing through Tyler’s game just yet. 

Silence filled the truck, only a few commands left (y/n) whenever they needed to make a turn, chasing down the roads to catch up with the growing cell. All while the others followed behind them, too slow to catch up with Tyler’s truck. Her heart was pounding in her chest, riled up by the anticipation of chasing another storm – no matter how many times she had done this before, (y/n) would never get used to the thrill, the moments leading up to seeing yet another beautiful though terrifying tornado. 

“You alright, pretty?” She’d never get used to the way Tyler called her, dripping with that drawl she loved more than she’d ever admit. (Y/n) didn’t look at him, fully focused on her laptop to monitor the path their tornado took. No word left her pressed together lips, trying to drown out the feeling of his concerned eyes flickering towards her every few seconds. 

“(Y/n)?” The use of her name ripped (y/n) out of her trance, letting her wide pupils find his. She only nodded at Tyler, knowing she couldn’t waste any time on the crush she could never speak of, preferring to take her secret to the grave rather than feeding his ego–only to end up with a broken heart in the process. 

“Guys, can you hear me?” She held the radio close, speaking to the others while refocusing on the map. All they could hear was rustling, unable to pick up on the reply that was spoken on the other end. Curses clawed through (y/n), she tried to reach their teams again, while swallowing the sinking feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. No longer could she see them in the rearview mirror, telling her that they hadn’t made it down the narrow path Tyler had taken.

The road ahead was muddy, forcing the truck to slither along while Tyler tried to avoid holes and ditches. With one hand clutching the door, (y/n) tried to hold still, not daring to bump into Tyler whose angry cusses filled the truck. Both had their eyes focused ahead, knowing that this had been the wrong choice, the wrong tornado to chase. They were heading straight towards their death if they kept going that way, knowing that without their team by their side, they wouldn’t be able to collect enough data anyway. 

“I hate being the one to say it, but we gotta find shelter, lightning.” Tyler’s annoyed groans left her nodding, giving him the green light to take a sharp left to turn towards the town close by. With the slimmest chance to find proper shelter, Tyler kept speeding along, seemingly having a spot in mind. (Y/n) was angry, at herself, at the road conditions, knowing that this situation should have played out much differently. And all she could do was trust the man she had always tried to hate.

“Come, follow me.” The truck was forced to a sudden halt. (Y/n) followed Tyler outside, holding onto her things while he reached for her free hand to pull her along. He guided her towards what appeared to be a barn, a building she paid no attention to as she studied the tornado, getting lost in its beauty for a second. “They built an underground shelter here a few years back, if we’re lucky nobody else had the time to find it.”

Tyler pushed her into the unlocked barn, letting the doors slide close again before he led her down some stairs. She didn’t dare speak, torn between too many emotions. All (y/n) could do was let go of a sigh while being ushered into the empty, dark shelter. It took her a while to adjust to the darkness, letting her hands move along the metallic wall until she found what appeared to be a light switch. She gave it a try, though without any luck, letting herself drop to the ground while Tyler stayed glued to his spot. 

If both hadn’t been too deep in thought, they would have realised that this was the first time they were sheltering together, completely alone without any nosy eyes watching them or listening to their talks. 

“We should have gone west, I’m sorry.” Her whispers filled the small shelter, luring Tyler closer who plopped down next to her. He fumbled with his phone to turn on the fleshlight, letting it rest on the ground to alight their surroundings. A few boxes were placed against the wall, filled with water and some snacks they hopefully wouldn’t have to use, praying that they’d get out of here fast enough to chase their luck once again. 

“There’s always time for another try, pretty.” Tyler reached for her hand to squeeze it before he could stop himself, forcing her eyes to focus on the spot where she now felt a buzzing sensation. She let her head roll towards Tyler, studying the white hat he took off with his free hand, placing it down on the ground, only to comb through his hair. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without that thing on.” (Y/n)’s whispers left him chuckling, a sound that momentarily managed to drown out the roar of the tornado. The howling was an almost comforting sound to them, after years of chasing them, well aware of every little detail. 

“Well, you’re one of the few who gets the honour, appreciate it.” She rolled her eyes at him before ripping her gaze off of him. Heat flushed through her at his teasing, a heat that only grew more biting as she realised that they were still holding hands. Her tongue moved along her dry lips, trying to find the right words to break their silence, silently hoping that she could cherish every single second of their time together. As much as she had once sworn to hate him while burying her crush deep inside of herself, she had lost all strength to fight against it, at least for now.

“Why have we never done this before?” Tyler seemed to feel the same longing, drawing her focus back towards him with his question. His eyes had an even more piercing touch to them now, having an invisible tight grasp on her soul she didn’t want to escape from. 

“Because you’re an asshole most of the time and I can’t stand being around you for long.” (Y/n)’s sharp reply left him laughing, a loud sound that had an addicting effect on her, leaving her chuckling while shaking her head at the man. 

“You wound me, lightning. Here I was hoping you’d finally let me take you out on a date, once this day’s over.” No longer did she laugh, the sound was stuck in her throat all too suddenly.

Did he truly mean it? Was he planning on asking her out? Or was Tyler playing yet another game with her? 

“Don’t fuck with me, Owens.” His hand darted out to grasp her chin, forcing her to keep her focus on him before she could even try to turn away from him. For just a second, she watched his gaze flicker between her eyes and her slightly parted lips. Once again her heart was back to racing, no longer focused on the howling wind, the sounds of things crashing outside, but fully and solemnly focused on Tyler. 

“Are you scared of this thing between us?” Once again, his question managed to rob her of the air filling her lungs, not expecting him to be this direct with her. A part of (y/n) begged her to cuss him out, to make fun of the question, to escape the avalanche that was about to roll upon them, but the bigger - more desperate - part of her, managed to gain the upper hand, leading her straight towards danger.

“Well, even though you enjoy riding your fears, I prefer to face ‘em. I’m not scared, not of this, whatever this is. But I’m fucking terrified of you toying with me and dropping me the second I’m no longer interesting enough.” He let go of her, only to pull her into his lap, making her straddle his stretched out legs. They held eye contact, wordlessly daring one another to move first, to give in to the pull that was as strong as an F5 they’d happily chase on any other day. 

“I’d be fucking stupid to mess it up with you.” She felt his breath on her lips, ghosting over her soft skin like he was giving her one last chance to pull away. A chance she wouldn’t take, letting it pass while finding his lips for a soft kiss that escalated within seconds. With his hand pressed to the back of her head and his other placed on her waist, Tyler held her to him while deepening the kiss.

Their tongues fought for victory, knowing that neither of them would back down from a fight against the other, urged on by their need to gain the upper hand. Soft groans and moans left them while their bodies searched one another’s closeness, knowing that this was something they wouldn’t tell others about, preferring to keep this as their secret. 

Her hands roamed his clothed chest, feeling his muscles beneath her wandering fingers while finding her way to his belt. She toyed with the buckle for a moment while her lips were still glued to his, knowing they’d have to part any moment now to inhale some much needed breaths of air. 

“You sure you want to do this in here, lightning?” His chuckles left her grinning, while holding onto the question she had wanted to ask for a while now. 

“Why lightning?” A kiss was shared between them, much softer than the one before. Her hand was still toying with his belt, slowly undoing the buckle to wordlessly tell him she wanted this much as he did, even though they knew that it was stupid and selfish of them to hide out here while their teams were undoubtedly worrying about them. 

“Well, the first time I saw you, you struck me like lightning, brightening my darkest day.” The explanation was cheesy, and yet it still drew heat up her neck. She could only swallow, smile at him and refocus on her hands. Tyler let her move, freeing his hardening cock while his impatient hands tugged on the buttons of her blouse, letting it pop open to expose her bra-clad chest. 

“Fuck, you’re a dream.” Her eyes flickered up to his while she spat into her palm, using her saliva to lube him up. Tyler couldn’t stop his moans from clawing through him, fully focused on the way he perfectly fit into her hand, pressed against the soft skin he wanted to feel against every inch of his body. His head rolled back against the wall, eyes closed and lips parted – offering a sight that made her walls clench around nothing, proud for being the one to make him feel like that. 

Her hand added more speed to its movements, squeezing him with just enough pressure to draw another raspy moan from Tyler. He allowed himself to relish in her touch for another moment before he gently though urgently grasped her wrist to stop her from moving. 

“Will you ride me, lightning?” His accent grew thicker with every syllable, leaving her shuddering while only a soft chuckle managed to leave her. She rose to her feet to shuffle out of her jeans, keeping her eyes focused on Tyler who marvelled at her as if she was the strongest tornado he had ever been fortunate enough to see, fully mesmerised by everything about her. She kept her panties on while finding her way back to his lap, knowing that they needed to hit the road soon, not giving them a chance to do this properly. 

“Wait, here.” He reached for his back pocket to pull a condom out of his wallet, letting her rip it open to roll it down his aching cock. Both their hearts were beating in sync, knowing that they were finally about to do something they had been desperate for ever since running into one another for the first time. No matter how much anger and hatred had once grown between them, it was now turning them from opponents to lovers–or whatever it was both were trying to adjust to. 

Tyler held onto her as she sank down on him, letting her forehead fall against his shoulder for a second. No words were spoken while they had to adjust, overwhelmed by the new sensation and the whirlwind of emotions buzzing through them like a storm hitting them both. With her hands holding onto him, clinging to the fabric of the shirt he wore, she began to move, fucking herself on his twitching cock with such a passion, Tyler feared he may never want to get out of this shelter again. 

“Tyler,” his name left her, a breathy whisper he almost missed, too far gone to focus on anything but their closeness. He palmed her ass, letting his fingertips dig into her skin to leave marks that would remind her of this very moment for days to come. His hips met hers, jerking upwards to make his cock disappear inside of her even deeper, drawing desperate moans from them which dripped with a need for more. 

“Attagirl, look at you, fucking yourself on my cock like you were born for this.” She moaned at his words, knowing that her thighs would start aching soon enough, begging for a new position to give herself the needed push to fall over the edge. “What? You’re already getting tired? I should have fucked you in my truck, make you scream my name while the world’s ending around us.” 

He pushed her off of him without a warning, leaving her dazed and confused for a second while watching him rise to his feet. With a hand stretched out for (y/n) to take, he pulled her up towards him–only to pick her up and press her against the wall. His cock was pushed back into her, stretching her walls while he fucked her with a fast pace that made both of them see stars. 

(Y/n) clawed at his neck, needing to hold onto him while he fucked her closer and closer to the edge. A cocky grin widened on his lips as he felt her walls tightening their grip on his cock. She was close, would let go soon with his name burning on the tip of her tongue, a perfect reminder that she was his from today on, glued to the man who she had once sworn to hate. 

“Scream my name, lightning, show them what a real thunderstorm sounds like.” If he weren’t buried deep inside of her, she would have rolled her eyes at him. But (y/n) was too far gone to care about his cheesy teasing, solemnly focused on her arising high and the name rolling off her tongue like a prayer.

And then she came, pushed into an orgasm so strong, (y/n) feared she’d never experience something like this again. It buzzed through every part of her body, stealing her breath as if she was drowning, forcing her heart to skip beats as if she was chased by someone or rather something. Tyler kept fucking her against the wall, urged on by her moans, the sounds he’d never forget again. 

Pants kept leaving him while chasing his own high, letting his skin meet hers with every ferocious thrust. And with one last “Fuck” Tyler came, relieving himself into the condom as his smirk returned to his lips. Both were heavily breathing, clinging to the other while coming down from their highs.

“I don’t know if I can walk back to the truck.” Carefully, he placed (y/n) back down on her feet, shaking his head at her with a soft smile thrown her way. Tyler pressed another kiss to her slightly swollen lips before both redressed, knowing that they had to get out of here and back to their team as fast as possible. 

“You know I’ll gladly carry you, lightning. I always will, if you let me.”