#something different this fine tuesday

[giantchasm]

Some Taransusie Headcanons

Their relationship is atypical and they know it. This is something they were more or less aware would be the case going into it. Susie is not a replacement for Sectonia, nor would Taranza want her to be. He holds the two of them in different parts of his heart, loved separate but equally. Sometimes he needs to take things slow, and Susie understands. She fell in love with him scars and all.

They were best friends before they were lovers. I’m not going to beat this dead horse too much because ya’ll already know how I interpret it, but they initially bonded shortly after Robobot and clicked together because of their grief. While that’s why they originally bonded, though, that’s not the only reason they were close. In general they’ve served as pillars of support and comfort for each other for a long time. They’re some of the only people the other can fully ‘trust.’ They’re legitimately open with each other, and that’s rare. Especially for Susie.

Susie was the first one to fall, but Taranza realized she was in love with him before she did. Initially, it scared him. He was like “Oh gosh, please don’t. I can’t return those feelings. I’m going to break your heart, aren’t I?” and when she eventually confessed, he freaked out. But eventually he realized he did return her feelings and that he couldn’t let the albatross around his neck control him for the rest of his life. Sectonia would (hopefully) want him to move on and be happy. So he told Susie he’d like to at least give it a try, even if (again) he needed to take things slow.

‘Firsts’ (I.E. first kiss, first date, first anniversary) are very different for the two of them. Susie never got to be a dumb teen with a crush so she’s experiencing puppy love now for the first time as an adult. It’s kind of scary, but also kind of a warm, exciting feeling. She doesn’t always show she’s excited or emotional during moments like that, but she is. Taranza, meanwhile… has done this before? This isn’t his first date or kiss or anniversary ever. This makes it different, though not in a bad way. He’s not giddy or nervous, but he’s sentimental and appreciative. During those sorts of shared experiences he’s, more than anything, acutely aware of how special they are. Always aware they’ll never get this exact moment back, and that they should treasure it as much as they can. It’s… nice getting to have new firsts, both in the ways it allows him to reflect on them and as a reminder that, with how different they can be, Susie is her own unique, wonderful person he should be grateful for.

More under the cut!

Susie generally takes on a pretty different demeanor in private vs public. When it’s just her and Taranza, she’s very affectionate, mushy, and playful. When there are others there, she’s much more professional. Not in an unloving way, of course, but in a factual sort of “This is my wonderful partner.” way. Once in a blue moon she slips up though and catches herself gushing in front of others, especially if they’re also people she considers herself relatively close to. Magolor jokes that she seems like a different person entirely during these moments— like some sort of lovey dovey stranger locked up and replaced the real Susie.

They’re pretty silly with each other, although, again: mostly only in private. Taranza especially loves to playfully mess with Susie, saying she’s cute when she’s embarrassed. Sometimes he’ll ‘sneak up behind her’ and hug her. This is, of course, all for show, both because he’s exceptionally dramatic and because she’s so high-strung. She grew up in a nightmare dimension. She’s always alert and on guard. If he actually startled her she’d suplex him on instinct, and neither of them want that. So instead, he makes it exceedingly obvious, all the while she pretends to be surprised. He also loves to leave heart shaped webs in place she’ll find them and call her goofy pet names.

Susie generally does not like to be touched and does not have much sense of touch. The only parts of her body that aren’t cybernetic are her face, parts of her chest/torso, and one heavily scarred hand. Taranza is the one exception to the ‘no touching,’ rule, though. He’s the one person she feels comfortable letting do that. She loves stroking his fuzzy little spider paws or playing with his hair. His touch is very grounding, especially when she’s feeling out of it.

They love to do each others’ hair. It’s a favorite low-energy bonding activity. Taranza will braid Susie’s hair or she’ll brush his, all the while he’s staring at her with the eyes on the back of his head looking lovestruck. She thinks it’s very, very cute, and it’s not rare she leans in to give him a kiss between them.

They also like getting dressed up. They’re both very fashion-oriented people. The sort of duo who’s in different outfits every time you see them. They love going shopping together and trying on different things. Sometimes they even pick out things specifically so they match.

Taranza is the sole person allowed to call Susie Susanna, and even then he only does it in private. Anyone else who tries gets glared at. Initially, even he wasn’t able to call her it, as she has baggage associated with the name, but one day he called her it by accident while messing around, and although he quickly backpedaled, she realized she actually didn’t mind it coming from him. She thinks it’s because… well, the reason she switched to Susie was because she felt like Susanna was dead. She’d been through so much trauma— so much terror and heartbreak that she was changed irreversibly. But when she’s around Taranza, she doesn’t always feel that way. She feels… safe and comfortable enough to let that more vulnerable side of her show. And in that, maybe ‘Susanna’ isn’t entirely gone.

This probably goes without saying, but Taranza has some self-esteem issues. What happened with Sectonia messed him up. She took a lot of her anger regarding her own insecurities out on him once she went off the deep end, and that’s something that’s stuck with him. He does not like how he looks and is afraid he’s ugly, gross and off-putting. Susie doesn’t see it this way, though, and is doing as much as she can to build him back up. She thinks he’s very cute. She especially likes his fuzzy little face and his laugh.

Similarly, while Susie isn’t necessarily as insecure, Taranza is sure to build her up as well. He knows the consequences of not letting someone know how wonderful they are all too well. He’ll take her cybernetic hand and give it kisses and stare into her LED eyes and tell her they’re beautiful… but also stroke her cheek and hold her organic hand tight. Susie sees herself as both mortal and machine, and demonstrating that he loves both of these sides of her is key.

Susie’s employees really, really like Taranza. They think he’s a good influence on her, and he’s helpful in getting her to listen to them because he’s also been the little guy before. So whenever they have a request for Susie they attempt to do it through him, making ASCII puppy dog eyes the entire time.

In contrast, Susie is… not liked amongst the Floralians. Mostly because neither is Taranza. When she first started dating him they were slightly worried, thinking she maybe didn’t know what sort of person he was, but as soon as it became clear she was not only fully aware, but maybe even worse, their attitude towards her soured. She and Taranza have been harassed by angry citizens more than once. They’ve flung insults about Susie’s personhood and morality, saying it seems like Taranza only dates soulless monsters. Susie is not particularly wounded by this, but it makes Taranza seethe. If it weren’t for Kirby keeping him on good behavior, he’d start throwing people in the dungeon again over this. He’s always sure to refute these accusations, saying they’re wrong about Susie, even if: again, Susie doesn’t really need it. She doesn’t expect most flesh and blood beings to understand her… although she is touched by just how much Taranza seems to care.

Taranza is not particularly good with techie things, but insisted Susie teach him how to repair all of her parts anyways, just in case, Void forbid, something were to happen. If she were to get hurt, he’d never want to be in a spot where he couldn’t help. Susie typically does maintenance on herself at least once a week, so when she does he’ll sit beside her and they’ll talk and she’ll show him how everything works. He makes sure to pay very close attention.

Taranza loves to be pampered and showered with expensive gifts. It’s coincidental, but not entirely irrelevant he seems to have only dated rich, famous women. That’s not why he loves Susie or why he loved Sectonia, of course— he’s no gold digger, but he won’t deny it’s a bonus! Thankfully, Susie has a practically infinite supply of money and is very much a gift giver, so he gets showered in expensive, lavish things practically all of the time. It makes him feel very, very special.

The most important gift Taranza ever got from Susie was a lot more mundane, though. She realized he was always making grand gestures, and wanted to make one of her own. So she spent countless hours researching flower meanings and painstakingly grew him a bouquet. This is something that was very, very difficult for her. She’s not used to things that require lots of time and care. She stuck it out for Taranza, though, and was eventually able to present him with the surprise gift. The flowers weren’t perfect— in fact, they were a little scrawny, but Taranza was so, so touched. He keeps them on his bedstand to this day, using his magic to ensure they don’t wilt.

The two of them have a set of matching necklaces. Taranza wanted to get something for them to keep as a momento— a counterpart of sorts to his scarf. You see: said scarf was originally a symbol of his love for Sectonia. They bought a matching set and made a promise to always be by each others’ sides. Obviously, that’s not something they were able to do, but he keeps the scarf on his person at all times in honor of the memories they shared. He didn’t want this to make Susie feel inadequate, though, and suggested they get something to celebrate their love as well. The necklaces are a reminder that Susie is more than enough, loved as she is, and that they’re a team, too. It’s no mistake that both it and the scarf rest right beside Taranza’s heart.

[odakota-rose]

so many gems in the Doctor Who script library the BBC just released but today I'm here in 4x02, The Fires of Pompeii

[m00ngbin]

Here's these of Teru and his failure fever. Except this might just be him with the flu because I forgot that his failure fevers don’t really make him snotty. So. Yeah. Flu? Maybe. I had the flu two weeks ago and ykw he can have the flu too

[leftoversludge]

argggghhhhhhhuuuhhhhhhhggghhhh

[running-in-the-dark]

ooooh. we got an apartment!!!

the house isn't completely finished yet so we can't move in until April. we'll have to figure that out. but that's fine. it's in the town where my husband works! which is amazing.

[horsemage]

I know I shouldn’t be so stuck on it but I just can’t stop thinking about those two or three weeks in October/November. I know exactly what the tipping point was and precisely when it happened but I have no idea how it got so bad that that became the tipping point.

[flwrkid14]

Tim and Danny: The Couple That Could Have Been

Tim Drake and Danny Fenton weren’t just Gotham’s it couple—they were the couple.

Tim, the poised and brilliant CEO, and Danny, the charismatic streamer with a chaotic streak, were the kind of pair that inspired faith in love. Their relationship was public but never performative. The candid photos, the impromptu livestreams where Danny would drag Tim into the frame to tease him about his “ridiculously expensive suits,” the way Tim would smile when he thought no one was looking—it all seemed so real, so untouchable.

For years, they were inseparable, the picture of what love should look like. And Gotham believed in them. People joked that they’d be together in every timeline, every universe, because how could they not be? They were made for each other.

So when Danny uploaded a new video one unassuming Tuesday, everyone thought they knew what was coming.

The engagement announcement.

Danny’s setup was different this time—gone were the familiar vibrant backgrounds and playful chaos. The walls were bare, his face somber, his voice quieter than anyone had ever heard.

“Tim and I…” He paused, swallowing hard. “We’ve decided to go our separate ways.”

What?

No, that couldn’t be right.

This was Tim and Danny. The couple everyone was convinced would make it through anything. The couple people joked would find each other in every timeline, every universe, because it was always them.

But Danny kept talking, his voice trembling as he explained—without really explaining—that they couldn’t make it work. No details, no messy drama, just a quiet goodbye that left everyone feeling like the air had been stolen from the room.

———

The Batfamily found out the same way everyone else did—through Danny’s video. They hadn’t even realized anything was wrong. The last time they saw Tim and Danny together, they’d been the same as always: teasing, bantering, comfortable in each other’s presence.

Bruce was the first to confront Tim about it, cornering him in the Manor with that familiar stern frown.

“Tim, what happened?”

Tim didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

Because he didn’t know either.

Danny had been the one to end it. One day they were fine—perfect, even—and the next, he was breaking up with Tim over coffee, quiet and somber, like he was grieving something Tim couldn’t see.

“I just… we can’t,” Danny had said, his voice trembling. “I’m sorry, Tim. I love you. I’ll always love you. But we can’t keep doing this.”

And that was it. No further explanation.

Now, Tim was left packing up his things from the apartment they’d shared, trying to piece together what went wrong. Danny was on the other side of the room, just as quiet, boxing up his own belongings. They didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

The space between them had never felt so vast.

“I love you,” Danny had said, his voice breaking. “I’ll always love you. But I can’t… we can’t keep doing this.”

And just like that, it was over.

And Danny? Danny knew exactly why.

———

Danny Fenton was a coward.

He’d gone to Clockwork for help after the first heartbreak, unable to bear the thought of living in a world without Tim Drake. He couldn’t undo the pain of losing Tim to the Justice League’s doomed mission, but he could relive the good years.

Clockwork had hesitated.

“This is dangerous, Daniel,” he warned, but Danny didn’t care. He didn’t want to forget Tim. He didn’t want to move on.

So Clockwork granted him his wish.

Again and again, Danny went back. Every time their relationship reached the point of no return—where Tim’s inevitable death loomed on the horizon—Danny would break up with him, retreat to Clockwork, and start over. He couldn’t bear to see Tim die, not again.

But the cycle wasn’t perfect. The cracks showed with each repetition. Danny’s breakups became harder to explain, his excuses more transparent. He could see the hurt in Tim’s eyes, the way his walls went up higher and higher with every iteration.

And still, Danny went back.

Because he couldn’t stop.

Because he couldn’t let go.

———

This time, though, it was different.

This time, as he packed his things, Danny felt the weight of what he’d done pressing down on him like never before. Tim wasn’t angry. He wasn’t even questioning it anymore.

He just looked tired.

And Danny hated himself for being the reason why.

The world moved on, but Gotham felt the loss of Tim and Danny like a phantom limb.

The bats watched Tim retreat further into himself, his work becoming his sole focus, an impenetrable wall between him and everyone else. They wanted answers, but Tim wouldn’t give them. And Danny? Danny disappeared from Gotham entirely, his absence leaving a wound that never seemed to heal. Maybe that’s why Tim would find himself on that mission, before Danny's loop restarted everything again—caught in the endless cycle of fate, unaware of how close he was to losing it all for good.

Clockwork didn’t say anything when Danny returned again, his face pale and his hands shaking. He just stared at Danny with quiet pity, his form shifting through time as if he were trying to decide what version of himself could make Danny stop.

“You can’t keep doing this, Daniel,” Clockwork said softly.

Danny didn’t answer.

Because he knew he’d be back.

Because he couldn’t stop.

Because he’d rather relive the heartbreak a thousand times than face another world where Tim Drake was gone for good.

[furshrimps]

Sammy had a burr tightly stuck to the back of his hind foot and he ran around with it for weeks because he wouldn't let me cut it for anything. at. all. The first half of successfully cutting it out was when my sister happened to visit just to drop something off and I thrust a brand new tube of doggy liverwurst into her hands and worked on the burr for as long as Sammy let himself be distracted. Then the rest stayed on for another week or two until I had the brilliant idea of taking the scissors along for a walk, posed the doggos on a log in a quiet area and snipped the thing free bit by little bit. I mean it worked, he happily ate the treats for complying and all, but... why can't we do this shit at home like everyone else lol.

[brilliantpride]

which tragic death would you suffer?

the prophetic hero

you die saving the world, as you were always supposed to. peace comes only with your blood. the world will remember you for centuries. they will write poems, create art, and film movies all about you. no one will remember what you were before your death. maybe you don't even know it either. you have spent so long saving the world time after time that there is nothing left of you except the heroism. you die never knowing love.

y'know, might be tragic from most perspectives, but that's how she'd want to go i think... people praising her and remembering her for the things she did and not the unpleasant person she knew she was. she'd only want the heroism to be left. that's the only part of her tale worth telling in her estimation - that's the impression she wants to leave other people with, especially if it means the 'real' her gets lost along the way. ...but her companions deserve better than that...

stolen from @caemthe , steal it from me if you like............

[scwheeler]

— how to get a girl’s attention

luke castellan x fem!daughter of demeter!reader

warnings: near-drowning experience…

summary: as the daughter of demeter, you’re the first person that everyone turns to when injuries need to be tended too, questions need to be asked, and any type of advice is required, however what’s going to happen when you’re the one in need?

a/n: this one’s quite lengthy guys! i really just got derailed like ten times and love adding details and the ending is kind of basic but whatever; don’t mind me making up random camper names btw lol 👼👼

waking up to the sound of constant bickering was just a normal tuesday morning as your younger half-siblings were already at each other’s throats about some stupid thing. yesterday it was borrowing boots and the day before it was who had to take the trash out.

you groaned, wishing that you could still sleep in peace and quiet but your cabin clearly suggested otherwise. so you gradually got up and put on your little slippers, approaching the main fighters who continued to argue with each other.

“hey hey hey, what’s going on now.” you had to physically get between the two children, separating them with your arms.

“he slipped paint all over my skirt and now it’s ruined!” the young girl cried, holding up her stained skirt to prove it. you took the clothing in your hands and knelt down to face her.

“why don’t i go to the river later today and try to get the stain out myself. it seems washable to me, what do you think?”

with a slight frown, she nodded her head to comply. you were relieved to say the least before turning to the boy, “how about you apologize and come with me to the river after breakfast?”

the boy stayed silent with his arms crossed, trying to avoid your insisting stare. but intimidated enough, he looked to the floor and whispered a small “fine, i’m sorry” with a glare.

you smiled as the situation was deescalated and told the rest of the kids surrounding the pair to hurry and make their beds in order to head to breakfast.

holding hands with the now puffy-faced girl, you tried to tell her about all the fun activities she could do today to forget about the unfortunate morning incident.

before reaching mess hall, the child already had a a bright smile just thinking about the bracelet making and embroidery you promised for the later evening. pleased with your peace-making skills, you sat with the rest of your campers and half-siblings that you were in charge of.

as the eldest sibling and one of the camp counselors, you took on the responsibility of looking after the young ones and caring for almost everyone at camp.

thus, when most of the camp half-blood children had troubles or dilemmas of any sort, they would disregard their own counselors and go straight to you. your kindhearted, yet sociable personality rooted from your mother: demeter.

you were often found laying around in the fruit fields or by the river listening to the water flow through the ground and hit the rocks. like your mother, nature was where you felt at peace, especially with the lack of quiet in your own cabin.

but you still loved your fellow campers and half-siblings, except for one boy who would not leave you alone.

luke castellan.

he liked to push your buttons and see how far he could take you until you’d explode. of course, you always kept your calm until either you just left the conversation or it would be interrupted by a camper in need who was like a knight in shining armor.

it wasn’t that you didn’t like the guy. you liked everyone at camp, including mr. d for gods sake! but something about luke was different. you occasionally saw him with his campers or his friends, he would joke around but never act like he does with you.

when you least expect it, he sneaks up behind you and gets close enough to whisper something in your ear. it could be just a random comment or sentence started but in an alluring voice as if you were friends or even more.

he knows what he’s doing. the moment he finishes, you flinch and get flustered, cheeks heating up and instantly standing up to avoid making eye contact. as you walk away, luke only watches and smiles to himself.

he knows how much power he holds over you, as with just a few words he can make you nervous.

“okay so once everyone’s done, we’ll first go to the archery range and you’ll stay there with counselor clarisse while damien and i go to the river to get that nasty stain out.” you explained and first looked at the boy who begrudgingly agreed to helping you earlier and then winked at the little girl you promised to help.

“counselor clarisse…!” one of the boys exclaimed.

“oh no she’s the mean one!” “yeah, she’s a bully!” your campers all started to agree and mutter remarks about their fear in staying with clarisse.

you couldn’t help but chuckle at their scared little faces, “clarisse? oh gods no! clarisse is not scary, she loves you guys and she’ll take good care of you.”

the children stared at you in disbelief while chowing down their eggs and bacon. “why can’t we just come with you to the river?!” one of the girls begged and began to pout alongside the other ten kids beside her.

you sighed and pursed your lips into a thin line, trying to come up with a compromise but you couldn’t.

“please it’s only for a couple of hours and then i’ll be back for the rock wall and some capture the flag!” you persuaded, trying to lighten up the mood.

but the kids still looked dissatisfied, now poking their breakfast around with their utensils in objection.

“well—” before you could plead another case why clarisse is a perfectly reasonable and responsible counselor and guardian, you were cut off by the one and only.

“aw don’t worry guys, you should listen to your counselor. plus i’ll be there too so if counselor clarisse gets even just a little too scary, you can come and hang with awesome counselor luke!” a voice announced from behind you.

you nearly choked on your food, startled in the surprise voice cutting you off. but the campers were overjoyed to see their second favorite counselor appear. there were an overwhelming amount of comments from the once so silent children, mostly regarding “luke!” and “yay!”

you whipped your head around to face the boy, standing right behind you with nothing but a smug grin on his face. then he leaned in just as he always does and whispered a quick, “you’re welcome” and turned to leave just as fast as he came.

“can we please hang out with counselor luke instead of clarisse?!” all the campers plead with their hands put together and lower lip puckered. left with no other choice by that damn castellan again, you inhaled deeply and slightly nodded which was shortly followed by an array of cheers and excitement.

after dropping off all of the campers in the hands of luke, you put a hand on damien’s back and led him to the river. but before leaving, you had to make sure luke would actually clock in as a responsible counselor.

“so i can count on you to keep them safe for the next couple of hours?”

“wow you sound like you doubt me!” luke said and took a step back with his hands up in fake surrender.

“enough with the games, castellan. are you going to make sure they don’t kill each other and stay unharmed until i return?” you asked again, ignoring his previous comment.

luke tried to hold back his smile after you called him by his last name. most of the time, his sparring partners or other counselors would use his last name rather his first. however, when the way you let the ‘n’ slightly my drag after saying it sent chills throughout his entire body.

to hide his delight, he lightly scoffed and crossed his arms at your hesitation. “i assure you that i will protect them with my life. i mean i am the best swordsman at camp,” he added as the corners of his lips just couldn’t help themselves to lift a little.

you rolled your eyes at his self-confidence and how he kept complimenting himself. luke only did it to impress you though, something that hasn’t been very successful.

“okay well alissa has a nut allergy, georgie has a bee allergy, and please keep thomas and will away from the poison ivy. i do not want to spend another summer knee deep in tomato juice.”

luke could only watch and admire as you kept expressing your deep concern for all the kids. he loved how much you cared. but a few more seconds and you would be driving yourself crazy over all the possibilities of something going wrong.

that’s when luke stepped in and softly grabbed your right arm.

“hey, it’s fine. go do whatever you have to do and i’ll come running down to the river if anything goes wrong but i doubt it, i’m pretty responsible y’know.” he reassured and stared straight into your eyes, indicating his sincerity. his smile wasn’t conceited or to drive his ego but rather held a tender emotion.

you looked up into his hazel eyes and suddenly the worries stopped and your nerves were calmed, other than the ones beginning to stir in your stomach. but this was far from the regard about the kids.

this feeling was something else. something new.

“are we going to go already?” the young boy you almost forgot about, whined and rugged on your orange camp t-shirt.

snapping out of your trance and back to reality you answered, “o-oh yeah, i think counselor luke’s got it from here.”

with that you turned away from luke and immediately headed for the river alongside damien but the paint-stained skirt was farthest from your mind now. you tried to shake the new feelings and thoughts out of your body and replace them with your past ones of the kids.

until, “is that guy your boyfriend?”

you quickly looked down to the boy asking the question, with such seriousness in his eyes.

“counselor luke? gods no! i wouldn’t even call him a friend!” you answered swiftly, picking up your pace and hurrying damien in front of you.

“geez…i was just asking!”

as soon as you two got to the river, settling on a few rocks by the edge, you started rubbing the blue-stained skirt with the clear water. damien sat next to you, fiddling his thumbs and staring at the water’s constant movement.

“so are you going to tell me why you did this or not?” you began, keeping your eyes on the skirt.

“i just wanted to.”

“damien.” you urged and this time, you stared directly at him with your eyebrows raised.

he sighed in defeat and gave up on lying to you.

“okay…well i just didn’t know how else to get clara’s attention,” the boy admitted and refused to look at you.

his response warned your heart and prompted your to smile to yourself.

“so you did this, just to get clara’s attention?”

you held up the now drenched skirt and demanded damien to look at you. for a moment, he did and nodded quickly before instantly going back to staring at the rock he was sitting on.

you stifled your laughter at how adorable the young boy you were with was being.

“damien…there are a lot of different and more efficient ways to get clara’s attention. may a suggest one that doesn’t destroy her belongings and ends up with her being angry?” you insisted and squeezed the excess water out of the skirt.

he looked up and nodded again but this time he continued.

“what should i do?”

“why don’t you make her a bracelet when we go back and sincerely apologize.” you suggested while laying out the wet skirt on the rock to dry.

he smiled at your suggestion as you went to sit closer by him. before speaking again, he pulled out a small daisy from his pant pocket and presented it to you.

your eyes focused on the blooming flower that lost a few of its petals due to being stuck in the boy’s pocket for a while now. but the remaining petals still standing were enough to maintain the flower’s beauty.

“when did you become such a gentlemen?” you nudged his shoulder and took the flower from his hands.

“oh, i’ve been giving him some lessons.”

alarmed, you turned to see the familiar face that had been surprising you all day.

“what are you doing here?! how about the kids—who’s watching them?!” you immediately stood up and marched towards the too calm figure standing amongst the trees. but he caught you with both arms, preventing you with ease.

“woah woah, take a breather, they’re with clarisse.” he said and stopped you before you ran back to the mess hall.

reading your expression, luke could tell you were not convinced nor pleased so he had to fix his answer.

“—and annabeth and chris.”

with that you stopped fighting against his grasp and stepped back, finally exhaling.

“you haven’t answered my first question.”

“oh! i just uh wanted to um come and tell you that they’re asking for damien back at camp. they were practically begging me to come over here and get him!”

you narrowed your eyes after he finished, easily indicating the lie.

“okay…you can go damien but remember what i said,” you smiled and patted his shoulder before sending him off back to camp.

the young boy ran off without a care and ready to make that bracelet with a formal apology. luke stood there, quite surprised that his lie that chris helped him think of in fact worked.

“soooo do you need help with whatever that is?” luke pointed at the skirt laid out on the rock.

“no.” you shortly responded and walked back to your rock but luke followed like a lost puppy.

“are you sure? i mean as head counselor for cabin 11, i can cook up a mean batch of laundry,” he insisted and trailed behind you.

unbeknownst to him, you rolled your eyes and cringed at his wording.

“your words don’t even make sense.”

caught in a lie, luke decided actions spoke louder than words and walked past you to the skirt. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as he picked it up and crouched down near the water before dunking it back into the water.

shocked and a little annoyed, you hurriedly ran to him.

“what the hell are you doing?! i just washed that! i’m waiting for it to dry dumbass!”

“oh she curses!” he exclaimed, finally getting a real response from you.

you reached for it until luke raised it a little higher, just out of your reach. using his height as an advantage, he held out the clothing as far as he could and to the river.

fed up and exhausted, you went on your tippy-toes and lunged for the skirt. swiftly, luke pulled it close to his body just as you reached leading you to accidentally lean too far.

with a splash, you fell straight into the freezing cold water, unknown to how deep the river was. luke’s eyes widened, he thought you falling in would be funny but once you hadn’t resurfaced within a few seconds he became worried.

without a second thought, he dropped the skirt, pulled off his camp shirt, and dove into the biting waves. as soon as he saw your bright orange t-shirt in contrast to the clear water, he put his arm around your waist and swim towards the surface.

pulling you out to the rocks and laying your body on the ground, he waited for you to gain consciousness. luckily, you started to gasp for air and spit out gulps of water as you sat up.

luke sighed in relief at once. you wiped your face of water and blinked repeatedly until your sight returned to normal. then your eyes were fixated on something else, rather someone. his bare chest stood directly in front of your face, it wasn’t like you were trying to stare!

“i’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to do that and i’m really sorry.” luke recited.

“i-it’s okay.” you stuttered, the cold water chilling your body.

“here take off the wet one and take mine.”

luke grabbed his discarded camp shirt and handed it to you. if you weren’t on the verge of frostbite you would’ve refused, but without another word you agreed and luke turned to face the trees as you pulled the wet shirt over your head and put on luke’s.

“thanks. for saving me and the shirt.”

luke turned back to face you and smiled, “i mean i was the one to make you fall into the water in the first place, it’s the least i can do.”

“aren’t you cold?” you signaled to his bare chest.

“no, i’m okay don’t worry. but your jeans are still wet so let’s head back to camp.” he reassured and helped you get up.

you nodded and let him take the lead. with your wet shirt and skirt in one hand and the other grabbing onto luke’s arm, you two finally made it back to camp. before dropping you off at your cabin, you had to ask.

“why did you come to the river anyway?”

luke awkwardly put his hand on the back of his neck and looked away.

“oh. i just uh wanted to spend time with you.” he admitted, ultimately facing you.

you stopped attending to your dripping pants and looked up at him. he had a genuine smile, now with both hands shoved into his pockets.

how was it that you had never noticed the golden flecks in his deep brown eyes? or the way the orange hues of the sunset highlighted the amber shade his eyes would turn?

“y’know, there are a lot of other ways to get my attention in the first place, that doesn’t involve us falling into freezing cold water.”

luke laughed at your comment which eased the awkward air.

“i had this almost exact same conversation with a little boy of about seven years, and gave him some valuable advice.”

“what was the advice..?” he carefully asked.

“to make her a bracelet and apologize, one of…you’ve already done profusely.” you raised your eyebrow to imply his previous attempt in apologizing nonstop.

“ah, a bracelet you say, okay got it,” luke said and nodded his head.

with that, he bid you a good day and you asked to meet him later at the campfire to return his shirt.

“alright you two sit there, i don’t want to see anymore fighting over the dinosaurs, you can sit here with him, and you three over there—” guiding the campers for the campfire that was just about to begin, you made your way to an empty bench.

smiling to yourself, you watched as your campers finally calmed down and enjoyed the music, giving up on fighting and arguing with one another. someone jumped over the bench and leaned back to sit right next to you, and you had a feeling who it may be.

“luke?”

“yes ma’am.” he replied with a tilt towards you and two fingers from his head.

the campfire lit up his face and highlighted his sharp features that you had somehow missed until this moment. his charming smile urging his dimples alongside his dark curls freshly washed with a new scented shampoo was enough to make you realize you were hooked. damn.

“oh i have a little something for you, give me your arm and close your eyes,” he spoke up and put his hand in his pocket.

raised eyebrow, you reluctantly closed your eyes and gave him your right arm. suddenly in fear of some bug or scary animal on your hand, you slowly retracted it back to yourself until he gently got a hold of it.

he pulled your arm towards him slightly and slipped something on around your wrist. waiting for his approval, you sat questioning what the mystery item could be.

“okay, open.” luke did a little ‘ta-da’ motion once you flickered your eyes open, adjusting to the dark yet orangish lit surrounding.

you looked down at the intricate, handsome bracelet that appeared on your wrist. it was similar to the camp necklaces but the beads were translucent with flowers imbedded into them. except for one bead that was painted a heavenly green, your favorite color.

astonished and at a loss for words, you observed the bracelet, moving around the small beads on the string.

“i’m sorry.”

snapping out of your trance, you instantly stared up at luke after his words in confusion.

“what?”

“you said earlier, ‘there are a lot of other ways to spend time with you that don’t involve us falling into freezing cold water, for starters make a bracelet and apologize.’” he repeated your words from back by your cabin. he remembered.

“so you made me a bracelet and apologize just like i said?” double-checking, you glanced once at the bracelet and back to the dashing boy who looked as if he had stars in his eyes, waiting for your reaction.

“not only for you, i also helped damien make one for that girl he’s got a crush on,” he continued and looked over to the little boy doing the exact same hold-out-your-arm-and-close-your-eyes trick on the girl sobbing about her stained skirt earlier.

she opened her eyes to a freshly washed skirt and matching bracelet, along with a smiling boy who was apologizing and waiting for her reaction. she leapt into his arms with a bunch of ‘thank yous.’ the boy then briefly peered at luke who proceeded to wink and give an approving nod.

happily surprised, you sat gaping at the boy you thought was so infuriating just a couple of hours before. luke knew exactly what he was doing. he knew how much you cared for the campers and your half-siblings, how you would always chose their safety and happiness at the expense of your very own.

it was one of the traits he admired the most about you. even when in a bad mood or not feeling your best, you would put on a brave face and make sure to put their needs in front of you own.

he witnessed it first-hand last week when your campers wanted to go rock climbing but there were dozens of poison ivy already there. thus, to not disappoint the kids, you stayed up all night removing the dangerous plant and relocating them to another area deep in the forest for them to grow.

even with your plant manipulation abilities, with the large amount of the poisonous plant, it took you quite a while. afterwards, you went as far to replace them with lovely daisies you summoned from the gardens in front of your cabin.

during the move from the rock climbing course to the forest, luke had spotted you while some late-night sword practicing because he couldn’t sleep due to apollo cabin next door.

he debated approaching you and settled on only admiring you from afar after you almost finished anyway. he didn’t want to disturb you or aggravate you further than you already were. but leaving you here in the forest during midnight would be wrong.

what if a monster were to come? how were you to defend yourself if you were distracted! therefore, it was just common sense that luke had to keep watch, i mean he even had his sword with him after all.

but once the sun peeped from the tall mountains, he came to a realization that he had just sat and watched you for more than a couple hours. so in order to not get caught, he ran off back to his cabin before anyone would wake up.

only a little after luke headed to bed, morning arrived and you were the first one to break the happy news to your campers that today would be the day for rock climbing. greatly proud and feeling accomplished, you even invited other cabins to join and have a spin at it. including luke’s.

now he was the one to show you how much he cared for the campers as well, focusing on a feature you had great respects for. your shocked expression softened and now leapt into his arms.

“thank you, castellan. really.”

blood rushed to his cheeks and he tried to hide his excitement, but you felt his genuine smile on your shoulder. before pulling away, he stopped by your ear and whispered.

“do i have permission to kiss you, counselor?”

you could’ve giggled at his words and how close his lips were to your ear. without wasting another breath, you pulled his face closer to you and put your lips on his.

feeling the warmth of his breath, you could taste the sweet taste of strawberries he must’ve eaten earlier. only centimeters away, your bodies were attracted to each other almost pressing. the kiss wasn’t long but not short either, somewhat leaving a lasting impression on the other.

yet again you felt a small grin of his lips during the kiss, making you pull away for air. but your eyes were still glued to his, moments away from repeating the act but you both realized where you were and how irresponsible it would look as counselors. so instead he grabbed your hand, now giving you the absolute cutest puppy dog eyes before asking.

“do i have your attention now?”

[katsu2ji]

love language — k. bakugou

a/n: i will always die for soft katsuki. always always always.

katsuki has never been good with words.

over the years he has tried—and failed—to be a smooth talker with you. when you guys first started dating, it took him forever just speak to you, let alone say something charming and sweep you off your feet. as you've both gotten older, he has accepted that he simply is not that kind of guy.

however, he's found other ways to show he loves you; ways that are so ingrained in your relationship that it's hard to imagine a day without him in your life.

if he has to go in for work earlier than you, he'll cook breakfast before he leaves, knowing exactly what you like and how you like it. if he makes himself a lunch the night before, you'll find a matching bento box on the kitchen counter with a sticky note that says "don't forget to eat something, idiot. love you." your waterbottle is sitting next to it, along with another sticky note. "i don't need you passing out on me." if you guys get a chance to eat a meal together that day, he always gives you the plate with more food, especially if it's your favorite. you pretend not to notice, of course.

he's all casual affections and intimacy. if you guys are about to go out, he'll stop you to zip up your jacket and adjust your sleeves, making sure you're warm. if he's grocery shopping and passes your favorite flowers he won't hesitate to get them for you. it's a random tuesday night and you ask why he got them, but he just shrugs his shoulders, pretending not to stare at the smile on your face as he watches you take a picture of them in their vase on the kitchen counter. he idly plays with your hands in his lap while you're both watching a movie, having every fine line on the palm of your hand memorized. he's thankful for the dark room hiding the slight blush on his cheeks; after all this time, he's still lovesick.

for awhile, he felt bad about being unable to just simply say everything he wanted. he felt like his inability to write you a long, sweet note, or verbally cheer you up after a long day made him a bad partner. he felt as though his words were too gruff coming out of his own mouth, no matter how softly he may have meant them to be. he believed that he was all hard edges, feeling too rough for the affection that he desperately wanted to give to you.

you, of course, would beg to differ. him getting creative with his ways of saying "i love you" makes his affections all the more sweeter. it reminds you of how observant he is. how he's always listening, even when you think he isn't. it reminds you that he loves you, and that just because he's not shouting it from the rooftops, it doesn't make it any less true.

so yes, he's not very good with words. but he's managed to find other ways to show his love for you. besides, they always said that actions speak louder than words, didn't they?

katsu2ji © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything of the sort with my work! i work very hard and you simply do not have my permission.

[mapis-putellas]

𝑴𝒊𝒔𝒅𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅/𝑨.𝒑𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒔

This didn’t come out as good as I wanted, so I apologise <3

Alexia didn’t like it when you gave her the silent treatment. She liked it even less when you wouldn’t tell her why. You’d been ignoring her since the second she got back from training, and that had been nearly two hours ago. There had been no greeting at the front door. No hug. Not even a kiss. You had barely even acknowledged her existence, and Alexia had no idea why.

She wracked her mind as she showered, trying to figure out if there was an important date she’d missed or if today had any particular significance. But there was nothing. It was just a regular Tuesday. As far as she knew, today held no importance to you and it certainly held no importance to her. So what was going on?

Her mind ran through every possible scenario as she got out of the shower and changed, slipping into one of your hoodies in an effort to feel a little closer to you. You were fine this morning. You’d woken up together, as usual. You’d been intimate, you’d showered, and then you’d cooked breakfast before she’d left for training and you’d left for work.

That was about as perfect as a morning together could get, so it had to have been something that happened after, right? But how was she supposed to know that for sure when you wouldn’t talk to her? How was she to blame for that when she hadn’t even been there?

The thing was, both you and Alexia thrived on communication. Neither of you liked being upset with the other, and it was often you who believed in talking through everything. Even when things were hard. Even when things were uncomfortable.

It was why you so rarely argued or fought. You always talked it out. So what was different now? Why wouldn’t you talk to her?

She came to a stop in the living room threshold, brushing a wet strand of hair out of her face as before tucking her hands into the pockets of her -your- hoodie. You were on the couch, curled up beneath a blanket watching tv. From the angle the couch was placed, Alexia knew you knew she was there, and she silently pleaded for you to look her way. To acknowledge her. But you don’t. You continue staring at the tv, even as Alexia made her way over and sat down on the couch a couple feet away from you.

She reached out, tentatively brushing her fingers lightly against your ankle, hoping to draw your attention, but you only pulled your leg away. She tried to pretend it didn’t sting. She swallowed heavily as she exhaled through her nose, pulling her hand back, trying to ignore the way her vision became blurry as she stared at the tv. Her hands, resting on her thighs, trembled slightly as she toyed with the cuffs of the hoodie. She chanced a glance at you, but you were still looking at the tv.

Alexia blinked then, and a single tear fell down her cheek, tickling her skin in its wake. It dripped past her jawline and into her hoodie, slightly marking the material. Another followed shortly after. Then another. And another, until she was silently crying. She didn’t wipe them away, not wanting to draw attention to herself. She didn’t want you to finally acknowledge her just because she was crying. Pity was the last thing she needed.

Eventually, she had no choice but to sniffle slightly so her nose didn’t start running, and from the corner of her eye, she see’s your head whip around to face her at an almost comical speed. A part of her wanted to meet your eyes, because finally, finally she was getting the acknowledgement she’d been wanting since she’d gotten home. But she couldn’t quite bring herself to do so, because quite honestly, she was scared of what she’d see.

She heard you sigh lightly as you shoved the blanket off of your legs, tossing it to the side before crawling over to her. Her eyes remained stubbornly glued to the tv as she felt your body press lightly against her own, your head resting against her shoulder. She sniffled again, hesitating for just a second before she leaned her head against your own.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, turning your head slightly to press a kiss to her arm.

Alexia nodded, honestly not quite sure what she was supposed to say.

You sighed again, eyes closing for a brief moment. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Ale. It’s just…a bad day.”

“You ignore me because you have a bad day?” Alexia whispered, and you hated the sound of hurt that lingered in her voice. You swallowed thickly as you wrapped your arm around her waist, internally grateful when she didn’t pull away.

“I’m sorry,” you said again. “Really. I’m sorry. It’s just…misplaced anger, I guess. I’m not mad at you, but you were just…there.”

Alexia was silent for a second. “Why are you angry?” She whispered.

You shrugged. “I don’t know.” You admit. “I’ve just…felt wrong all day.”

“I don’t understand.” You felt her shift beneath you slightly, and you look down to see her fisting the sleeves of her hoodie in her hands.

“I know,” you murmured, the guilt in your stomach amplifying by a thousand. You placed your hand over her own, squeezing softly. “I don’t either. Not really. But I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ignored you.”

“No,” she whispered, voice breaking. “You shouldn’t.” You look up at her just in time to see a couple of tears stream down her cheeks.

“What can I do, Ale?” You reached up to wipe them away, the pad of your thumb now trailing over the damp skin of her cheek. You pretend it didn’t kill you a little inside when she pulled away from your touch.

She looked hesitantly down at you, almost as though she was checking for a reaction. “I do not know.” She admitted.

You nodded, bottom lip trapped softly between your teeth as a somewhat uncomfortable silent settled over you both. You shifted a little against her shoulder, but neither of you pulled away from each other. In fact, you tightened your hold around her waist, terrified she’d push you away even though you probably deserved it.

“I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” You assured after a few quiet moments, and though Alexia didn’t say anything, you do feel her nod, her cheek brushing the top of your head.

The rest of the afternoon passed pretty uneventfully. Alexia was quiet, to no fault of her own, and you tried your best to be extra attentive despite your still souring mood. You let her put on the football without complaint despite the fact you’d rather watch anything else. (You liked watching her play in person, sure, because it was Alexia and you loved watching her in her element no matter what it was she was doing, but watching it at home with people you couldn’t care less about? Less fun, but you kept your mouth shut.)

You made her favourite dinner, something you didn’t do too often considering the time it took and the extensive clean up process afterwards.

By the time bedtime rolled around, things were less…tense so to speak. Alexia was still quiet, but she leaned into your affection and actually laughed at the jokes you were trying to make as opposed to humouring you with a fake smile. You could tell she’d forgiven you for how you’d acted, but you weren’t quite done making it up to her yet.

She deserved more than just basic human decency.

Tomorrow was one of her off days, and whilst she usually preferred spending those at home with you -you didn’t get much free time together, so she liked to make the most of it- you had a plan up your sleeve. Alexia loved going on hikes. If given the chance, that’s probably what she’d spend all of her free time doing, but her schedule just didn’t allow it. She was busy all the time. Constantly on the go with matches, training, media. That wasn’t even mentioning away games that took her away from you for days at a time.

You, on the other hand, could not hate anything more. You weren’t as fit as Alexia, not even close, so you often struggled with things she did with ease. You got sweaty. Out of breath. And you complained, a lot. Not intentionally. And she never got mad at you for it. But you could tell it bothered her, not being able to enjoy something she loved with you.

And so tomorrow, you were going to hike with her. You were going to go wherever the hell she liked and you weren’t going to voice a single world complaint or distaste.

*

The next morning, you woke before your alarm. Alexia was still out next to you, lying on her stomach with the sheets pooled at the waist, exposing a sliver of the bare, tanned skin of her back. Her arms were holding her pillow to her chest, and soft, barely audible snores were escaping her slightly parted lips.

You reached forward, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as you leaned down to press your lips to her forehead. The kiss lingered for a few moments before you pulled away, tugging the blankets up to cover her properly before sliding out of bed.

You got ready as silently as you could, slipping into a pair of leggings and sports bra, pairing it with an oversized shirt that you tied at the waist to fit better. You packed lunch, slipping it into the fridge to keep cool whilst you focused on breakfast. Pancakes and coffee, her favourite on rest days. Table set, you headed back to yours and Alexia’s shared bedroom, pushing the door open and peeking inside.

You smiled when you saw she was still asleep, now lying on her back with her arms above her head. Her head was facing you, and as you got closer, you could see the way her eyelashes fluttered as she dreamed. Her nose would twitch occasionally too, and your smile widened as you climbed onto the bed, throwing a leg over her waist and carefully settling to straddle her hips.

Alexia stirred immediately, her arms moving down to rest on either side of her body. She scrunched her face up, obviously unhappy at the interruption to her sleep, and you laughed softly as you leaned forward to rest your elbows just above her shoulders. You reached forward slightly and trailed the backs of your fingers over her cheek. It was warm to the touch, and you hummed as you pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips.

No reaction.

“Baby…” you mused, leaning forward to kiss her again. This time, she turned her face away from you, and though she tried to hide it, you didn’t miss the way her lips quirked up just slightly at the corners. Ahh. So she was awake.

“I saw that,” you murmured, the smile audible in your voice. “Come on, my love. I made you breakfast. Your favourite.”

Nothing. Not even a twitch.

“There’s coffee too.” You try and tempt, but much to your dismay, she remained still.

“Alexia…come on baby. It’s going to get cold.”

Silence, though her lips do twitch again.

“Okay, so you’re going to be difficult, huh?” You laughed, sitting up and sliding off of her. “I can work with that.” You murmured to yourself, shaking out your arms before sliding your arms beneath her back and hauling her up into a sitting position. You then bend at the waist, using the momentum to throw her over your shoulder, blankets and all.

“Amor!” She squawked, now face to face with your ass as her hands scramble for purchase against your T-shirt.

You bounced her up slightly, your arms looped around her thighs as you begin making your way out of the room. “I tried nicely, baby. You asked for this.”

“I ask for nothing!” She cried.

You didn’t dignify that with a response.

“Put me down, now!” She demanded, adding emphasis to the last word by slapping your butt. Hard. The sound of her palm making contact with you echoed throughout the hallway.

It was your turn to yelp. “Ow! Don’t hit me, you tyrant.”

“Then put me down, amor! Now!”

You only complied because you were in the kitchen. You set her down in front of you, your hands trailing up her body as you did. She glared at you as your hands came to rest on the small of her back beneath her shirt, her face red. She tried and failed to hide the way her lips threaten to quirk up into a smile.

“You are trouble,” she grumbled, and you simply grinned as you pressed a kiss to her nose.

“You love me.” You shrugged, reaching round her to pull out her chair. “Now eat up. I have a surprise for you.”

Alexia raised an eyebrow as she sat down and allowed you to push her closer to the table. “Surprise?” She picked up her coffee and took a tentative sip.

“Sí,” you confirmed, kissing the top of her head as you sat down opposite her. “I won’t give much away, but it’s something you love doing.”

“You?” She grinned, and you snorted in amusement as you reached for your own drink. “No, but maybe later if you’re lucky.” You nudge her with your foot beneath the table.

Alexia hummed a little, hiding her smile by taking another sip of her drink. “Bien.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “You know the hike Mapi and Ingrid mentioned going on last week?”

Alexia’s eyes light up. Her eyes drifted down to your outfit, almost as though she’d just taken note of what you were wearing. “Sí?”

“You wanna go?” You ask, picking up your fork.

“Contigo?” She leaned forward in her seat slightly.

“S��. With me.” You confirmed. “We can have a picnic at the top too. I’ve already packed the food.”

Alexia’s eyes flicker over to the refrigerator. “Really?”

“Really,” you nod, and Alexia, seemingly unable to help herself, grinned in excitement as she set down her coffee and goes to stand up.

“Hey, no.” You stop her, reaching out a hand.

Alexia froze midway to her feet, looking at you sheepishly.

“Breakfast first, baby.” You gestured to her untouched pancakes.

“But-“ she pouted, looking longingly to the bedroom.

You shook your head. You were glad she was excited, but you didn’t want her going on a hike on an empty stomach. Knowing your luck, she’d end up passing out or something. “Breakfast.” You said again.

“Fine.” She grumbled, pouting as she dropped back down in her seat and picked up her fork.

An hour and a half later, you were midway through your hike. Alexia was a few steps ahead of you, happily chatting away as she pointed out different things that caught her eye. You hummed in acknowledgment each time she glanced back at you for approval, forcing a smile into your face, but inside, you were slowly dying.

You insisted on carrying the backpack, which, now half an hour in, you were quickly regretting. It was heavy; filled with lunch, drinks, a small first aid kit which Alexia had insisted on bringing and who knew what else. You were sweaty, your legs burned, and you were pretty sure you had a blister. But, like you promised, you hadn’t uttered a single word of complaint. Not a single one.

You’d come close though. Several times, actually. Almost instinctively, your lips had parted, and something along the lines of a complaint had begun to slip out. But you’d managed to stop yourself, and Alexia had been none the wiser for which you were thankful.

But then, along came the rock. You were completely unaware of its presence, sticking out of the ground just a few feet ahead of you. You were too busy trying to keep up with your pro athlete of a girlfriend whilst simultaneously ignoring both the burning in your legs and lungs. One second, you were walking. Or, well, stumbling really. And the next, you were sprawled out on the ground, your hands in front of you in what you could only assume was a subconscious effort at protecting your face.

You laid there, bewildered, for approximately ten seconds before Alexia’s voice filled your ears.

“Amor, are you okay?” You feel her hand come to rest on your back.

You shifted a little, wiggling both your hands and feet. No pain. That was good.

“I’m..I’m okay,” you muttered, bracing yourself and pushing up onto your knees. You heaved a breath before forcing yourself to stand up, Alexia’s hands slipping under your arms to help you do so. Keeping her hold on you, she guided you away from the traitorous rock to a flatter part of the ground before letting you go and reaching for your hands.

“Let me see.” She murmured, and you swallowed thickly as you comply.

You wince a little when the pad of her thumb trailed over one of your palms, and she gave you an apologetic look as she reached up to pull the backpack off of your shoulders. You let her, watching as she crouched down and unzipped it before pulling out the first aid kit that was placed at the very top.

You supposed it was a good job she insisted on bringing it after all.

“Here bebé, hold out your hands.” She instructed as she stood back up, a bottle of water and gauze in her hands.

You thought it was a little overkill for a couple of scrapes in all honesty, but figure it was best to let her do what she thought was necessary. You wince only slightly as she wiped away the dirt and dried blood from your palms, giving them a few moments to air dry before covering them with two large bandaids. And then, without warning, she brought both of your hands to her lips and placed a lingering kiss to each.

Your smile was instant.

“Better?” She looked at you over the top of her sunglasses.

You nod, cheeks flushed a light shade of red. “Mhh, better. Gracias baby.”

She grinned. “De nada, amor.” She put the first aid kit back into the backpack before hosting it over her own shoulders. You don’t try and fight her, instead taking the hand she offered and allowing her to tug you forward.

A comfortable silence settled over you both as she absentmindedly swung your hands back and forth, and you find yourself letting out a quiet sigh of content as you trail your thumb over her knuckles. She squeezed your hand in response, and you instantly returned the gesture as you looked up at her.

She met your gaze, and her lips immediately quirk up in so a smile so genuine it made you melt a little. It also reignited the guilt over yesterday you thought had faded, and you let out another sigh as you looked down at your feet.

“You do not have to feel guilty, amor.” She broke the silence, and you look up at her immediately, eyes wide in shock.

How had she…

“I know you.” Is all she said.

You purse your lips contemplatively for a moment before speaking. “I hurt your feelings, Ale. Of course I’m going to feel guilty.”

She hummed. “Sí.” She agreed, and you bite your bottom lip as you look down at your feet. “But you apologise. You make it up to me, no?” She gave your hand a squeeze, silently coaxing you to look back at her, and you do. The look in her eyes was one full of love, understanding, and it eased the guilt just slightly.

“I’m trying.” You nod.

Alexia squeezed your hand again. “You were forgiven…Inmediatamente, amor. Te amo. It was easy.”

You gently eased her to a stop before coming to step in front of her, resting your hands on her hips. She stepped close, her own hands rising to cup your cheeks as you raised up onto your tiptoes and pressed your lips against her own. She let out a quiet exhale through her nose as she reciprocated, eyes fluttering closed as she pressed her chest flush against your own. You slid your hands round to rest at the small of her back, sliding up and down just slightly as her nose grazed your cheek.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Ale. Truly.” You murmured as you pulled away, and Alexia hummed as she brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“You were you. Simple.”

“I love you.”

“Te amo, amor.”

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @ktgoodmorning @chelseacult @totaly-obsessed

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

two of the transfems youre friends with have been talking to you about the clinic they got their bottom surgery done at. apparently its dirt cheap, and the surgeon - despite some oddities and, your friends admit, poor hygiene - is incredibly talented. theyre more than happy to give you her phone number when you ask, and while it sounds simultaneously incredibly sketchy and way too good to be true, at this point youre just so broke, desperate, and tired of gatekeepers that you're willing to give it a shot.

you call on a thursday afternoon, and the call is picked up on the fourth ring, when youre just gearing up to hear an answering machine. the voice on the other end sounds like a middle-aged woman with a smoking habit trying to sound like a cheery, bubbly young girl, and mostly succeeding. hiiiii! what can i do for you? she asks. you say er im looking for a surgical clinic is this the right number? she says mhm! thats me. you say okay, i just have a few questions. she says shoot. you say do you take patients who arent referred to you? she says nobody refers patients to me so yes. then she giggles. youve never heard somebody pull off a giggle in real life. you ask okay, so ive been looking for a place to get my metoidoplasty done, can you do that here? she says i dont know what that is give me like five seconds. then the line goes silent. you can hear her typing on a mechanical keyboard and humming to herself as she reads. youre now convinced that this is not in any way a legitimate medical institution.

youre about to hang up when she comes back on the line. OH you need a dick she says. sure i can do that! does tuesday afternoon work for you? i have that morning free too but i HATE getting up in the mornings so id rather not schedule it if i have to. you say tuesday afternoon is fine, how long should i expect the visit to be? she says i dont know like seven hours? you say seven hours? she says yeah give or take a few, every person is different so i dont know what itll be like until ive got your cunt opened up. honestly probably best to take the whole day off just in case it turns out to be a tough operation. you dont respond to that immediately. she says oh shoot should i not use the word cunt, is that too gendered? sorry. you say no its fine. you say i thought i was just going in for a consult? she says i mean yeah if youd rather. i dont mind doing same-day but some people like having more time to think about their options. do you have somewhere to be tuesday night or something? you say no its just... no tuesday afternoon should be fine. she says okay great!

she gives you her address. she says knock three times so i know its you and not my parole officer. parole officer you ask? she says im being good i promise but i still hate talking to him hes boring. you say if you dont mind me asking what were you imprisoned for? she says the ones i plead guilty to at the trial were a hundred and ninety-two counts of first-degree murder with a parahuman ability, two hundred and fifty-six counts of physical and emotional torture with a parahuman ability, five hundred and six counts of intentional infliction of emotional distress with a parahuman ability, four hundred ninety-eight counts of aggravated assault and battery with a parahuman ability, four hundred twenty five counts of domestic terrorism with a parahuman ability and two hundred and twelve counts without, three counts of arson, two hundred forty two counts of burglary with a parahuman ability, three hundred eight four counts of robbery with a parahuman ability, four hundred twenty seven counts of abduction with a parahuman ability, a hundred eighty six counts of human trafficking with a parahuman ability, three hundred ninety counts of destruction of public property with a parahuman ability, eighty counts of possession of a controlled substance, more than three thousand conspiracy and complicity charges in various felonies, eighteen violations of the Geneva Conventions, and the unauthorized practice of medicine. i plead not guilty to the larceny, sexual assault, contempt of court, corporate espionage, and identity theft charges and the prosecutor didnt really try to fight it since i had already earned seventy life sentences from the other stuff so im technically innocent of those.

you dont say anything to that.

after three seconds of silence she says sooooooooo i'll see you tuesday? you say tuesday, yeah. what was your name again? Riley, she says. Riley Grace Davis. you say thanks again and then hang up.

you debate constantly during the intervening days whether you should go on tuesday. youre grateful your friend group is so slutty; it means youve already seen with your own eyes that this surgery is real and not just a lure to murder you. still, you have some reservations, which you think is perfectly understandable.

you call one of your friends whos been there already. she picks up and you say if this is a joke its only sort of funny. she says if whats a joke? you say the clinic. you say you DID give me the actual number to the place where you actually had your bottom surgery done right? she says yeah, dont worry the surgeons so sweet. you say she admitted to doing two hundred murders when she was on the phone. she says i dont know anything about that but i trust her. you say if i end up dead, kidnapped, or mutilated, its your fault. she says dont worry about it.

tuesday comes. you never agreed to an exact time so you show up as early as you can and still have it be "afternoon" in your mind - 12:30. you climb the rusted fire escape to the third floor door and knock three times. the door is answered by a woman six feet tall in casual but very nice clothes with frizzy brown hair and an expression you cant read. you say er, riley? she says nope. another girl pushes past her, exasperated. she's maybe five foot two and her wavy blonde hair is worn down, with a red bow in it. she's wearing torn jeans - naturally torn, not the sort that you buy with holes in them that youve always hated but the kind that were once normal jeans and now have worn through much of the fabric on the knees. her tshirt is faded and has stains that you cant quite place on it, but youre pretty sure it was once Eidolon merchandise.

she says damnit amy let me answer the door next time. the taller woman, amy apparently, shrugs and steps aside to let you in riley claps her hands together once youre inside and the door is shut. introductions! she shouts. amy, this is, er... I never actually got your name? you tell them your name. she says right! hes one of my clients. and this is Amy, my sister. dont worry about her, shes just a little awkward. amy says can you PLEASE not introduce me as your sister. riley says make me. then she grabs amys shirt and pulls her down, standing on her tiptoes at the same time. they kiss in a very un-sisterly way. you clear your throat politely.

riley breaks away and says right, yeah, sorry! i get distracted easy. youre here to get a dick right. you splutter a bit, both at the bluntness of the question and the fact that amy is still standing right there. riley follows your gaze. she says oh dont worry about her! sorry, i wouldve run her off earlier, i thought you wouldnt come by for another few hours. you say sorry. she says dont worry, its her fault. amy says you didnt tell me you had a client. riley says you didnt ASK. you clear your throat politely again. you say er yes, i did come in for metoidoplasty. she bites her lip and furrows her brow. she says metoido... oh right. well i dont really do that here but i can give you a dick. you say uh im not really interested in phalloplasty. she says whats phalloplasty? amy says its the construction of a penis, usually via tissue flap taken from another part of the body, often followed by the insertion of prosthetics to allow the constructed penis to achieve erection. riley says oh, huh. yeah i dont do that either. i can give you a dick though. she takes a second then puts on an exaggerated scowl. who would want that she asks? amy says lots of people prefer it to metoido for aesthetic reasons or because they dont think theyll be large enough for penetrative sex with metoido. riley says but it wouldnt feel like a dick! man, some surgeons are talentless hacks.

you clear your throat again. you say so if youre- riley says youre clearing your throat a lot, are you okay? you say im fine, its just- she says oh duh were being so rude! why are we all standing around here. come sit down in the living room, do you want anything to drink? she leads you into the living room. it has the unmistakable air of a room thats been cleaned recently, with vacuuming marks present in the carpet and the unmistakable scent of air freshener. the sofa that you're gestured to sit on is, by contrast, unbelievably filthy. stains of every sort are visible on it - some of them are obvious, like the patches of blood and vomit or the ring of a coffee mug. others take you a second to place, like the crusty streak along one cushion that you realize all at once is semen, or the sticky yellow parts that you hope to god are honey. some of them, like the muddy green handprint along one arm of the sofa or the deep black smudge along a seat, are completely foreign to you. you can smell it from several feet away.

amy notices your hesitancy. she says i keep telling her to throw that thing out. riley says and i keep telling HER that its a relic from earth bet! its an antique and itll be worth millions soon. it just needs a good deep cleaning. amy says what that sofa needs is a bullet, not a deep clean. you sit down. drink? riley asks. you say er what do you have? she says water, diet coke, vodka, coffee. no more beer though, SOMEBODY drank the last one. amy says you never said they were off limits! riley says they arent, im just teasing. you say waters fine. riley says aaaaaaaaaamyyyyyyy, could you pleeeeeeaaaaaaaase go get our guest a glass of water and me a diet coke? oh and can you grab the pill bottle on the second shelf of the spice cabinet. amy says sure, i'll be right back.

riley sits down next to you. she says sooooooo what do you want for your dick? you say sorry, if youre not doing phallo or metoido then what exactly are you offering? she says no offense but it would take like literally eight years to give you enough background info for you to understand my explanation, and i dont have that kind of time. im not getting any younger. except for when i am. she laughs louder than you thought a human could. you have no idea how to describe the sound of her laughter. she says just tell me about your dream dick and ill give it to you. trust me, im a doctor.

except that youre not, amy says, returning with glasses and pills in hand. she sets the water down in front of you and you immediately take large gulps, feeling very much lost right now. riley says am TOO, accepting the pill bottle and diet coke from amy. she frowns. why is it can diet coke, she asks? she says glass bottle is so much better. she says why did i even BUY can. amy says they are literally the same liquid, what do you mean its better. riley says theyre not the same, stop deluding yourself. amy says which of us is the REAL doctor? riley says both of us! the PRT finally issued me an equivalency. youre talking to doctor riley davis, MED. amy says oh really? congrats she says. riley beams. then she unscrews the lid of the unlabeled, dark brown glass bottle, grabs three pills, and pops them into her mouth.

what is that you ask. ectasy she says. you want some? you say no thanks. she says you sure? you say i probably shouldnt take drugs before an operation, what if it interacts with the anesthetic? riley says dont worry, i made my own anesthetic that has zero drug-drug interactions. amy says except with sudafed. riley says ok YEAH except with sudafed, how was i supposed to know? she glances at you. you dont take sudafed do you she asks. you say no. she says good. it was such a bitch cleaning the pus off the ceiling she says. you say huh? she says dont worry about it, you dont take sudafed. she says are you sure you dont want any ecstasy? i promise its pure. you say i dont want to get addicted. she says i can surgically remove the addiction pathway from your brain if that would help. amy says riley, no means no. riley says fine. do you want any ecstasy babe? she says no thanks. riley frowns. she says you guys are a bunch of squares. she pops a fourth one and starts chugging diet coke.

she slams the can down after drinking what must be half of it, wipes her mouth with her arm and grins. sorry, we keep getting distracted! she says. she says im getting into the start of a manic episode and that always makes me roll right over people in conversation. what do you want for your dick? you say um. i hadnt really thought about it. its not normally a choice beyond the type of surgery, you sort of just end up with whatever the doctors are able to make work? thats lame she says. why are normal doctors all so lame she says. ok, rude amy says. OBVIOUSLY im not talking about you babe riley says. and stop distracting me from my client! amy holds up her hands in mock surrender, an easy smile on her face.

you didnt bring a toy with you did you, riley asks. you say huh. she says sometimes people bring a toy that they want me to model it after and that makes everything a lot easier. you say no you didn't. you say i hadn't really thought about my preferences, can we go dealer's choice on this? amy pipes up. she says you REALLY dont want riley to go dealers choice. riley says shut up and get me another diet coke, i just finished this one. amy says yes princess. you honestly cant read whether it was meant to be mocking or endearing. riley turns back to you. ok, she says, lets start with basics. primate? canid? equine? suine? dolphin? i could give you a hyena pseudopenis but i dont know if that would be offensive. you say human is fine. she says please dont tell me you're gonna just be boring this whole time. you say define boring. she sighs deeply and starts massaging her temples. amy, having stepped into the room in time to hear the last bit of conversation, tousles rileys hair. she says sorry babe, customer's always right.

you work out the appearance of your soon-to-exist cock this way. riley asks questions about length, girth, hair, amount of semen generated, percentage growth when erect, and you try to give what you think are average answers every time. amy watches, bemused, the whole time. halfway through she leaves to get the bottle of vodka. she drinks five shots in fifteen minutes. you say i didnt think the human body had that much capacity for alcohol resistance. she says it doesnt. riley swats playfully at her arm.

eventually, riley grabs a set of crayons and a cocktail napkin. she says ok, i think we got it, scribbling furiously. she shows you a crayon drawing of a dick. this look good she asks? you squint at it. there are no measurements given and the medium does not allow you to make out any fine detail. you say yeah thats fine. amy tries and fails to hide a smile. riley chucks the napkin aside and rubs her hands together. boring parts done! she says. time to get messy she says. amy pours a sixth shot of vodka. she says dont forget the anesthetic first. riley rolls her eyes. she says OBVIOUSLY i didnt forget the anesthetic. she says ill be right back. as soon as she leaves the room, amy knocks back her shot. she turns to you. she says you mind if i stay and watch? she says i dont want to make you uncomfortable, but i like watching her work. shes cute when shes working. you say at this point youre not sure you would mind anything at all. you say at this point you dont think you would be fazed if she came back with a fully-formed dick wriggling around in her hand like a fish and sewed it onto me. she says dont tempt fate.

riley comes back with a black bag the size of her head, which she sets on the coffee table with a thunk. she points at you and says okay, clothes off. or pants off i guess. you can leave the shirt on. or take it off. i dont care. you take it off. she tells you to lie down and starts pulling things out of the bag. amy stands up from the sofa to give you the space to stretch out and sits on the coffee table instead, one leg pulled up to her chest with her chin resting on her knee.

riley pulls out a syringe from the bag, filled with pitch-black fluid. she says okay this will hurt for a second but only for a second. you say huh? she flips you over onto your belly and jabs the needle against your lower back, into your spinal column. it hurts like a bitch for all of two seconds and then you stop feeling anything at all in your lower body. you also cant move your legs, you realize. what just happened you ask, as she flips you onto your back again. she says i just killed all the cells in the nerves in your lower spine. she says its the easiest way to make sure none of the pain signals slip through, and she'll just replace them with living ones when she's done. you don't know how to respond to that.

she pulls more things out of the bag. a cartoonish array of different cutting implements come out. most of them are various sizes of medical scalpel, ring cutter, or saw, but you also see a pair of chunky pink safety scissors, a pizza cutter, a serrated bread knife, an x-acto, a drill with a comically long bit, a pair of wire cutters, gardening shears, and an awl. she says okay im gonna start operating so look away if you dont wanna see how your crotch looks while its being rearranged. especially if you think you might puke, i hate having to stop to clean up puke in the middle of surgery. you look away. you notice amy is watching transfixed.

for a couple of hours things go on like that. amy and riley make light conversation, with riley filling any silence by humming a wordless tune you dont know. the sounds and smells youre getting are enough to make you slightly sick; you continue not looking.

in the middle of hour two, riley stops. oh goddamnit, she says. what amy asks? riley says she forgot that shed need extra meat. amy says you started a surgery to give somebody a whole new organ and forgot youd need more tissue to do it? riley says shut up, im dumb. amy says no youre not babe. riley says ughhhhh now what. amy says just get his stem cells to grow the tissue you need. riley says nooooooo thatll take forever, and i have places to BE tomorrow, and if i stop putting pressure on him here hes going to bleed out through his cunt. you say wait, what? amy says well i dont know what you want me to do about this situation, i gave you my solution. riley says baaaaaaaaaaabe. amy says whaaaaaaaaaaaat. riley says i think we have some bacon in the fridge, will you pretty please with sprinkles on top go get it? amy says and what do i get in return? riley says a kiss. amy says id get that anyway. riley says my undying love and affection. amy says i have that already. riley says not making me angry at you so you can sleep under my roof without having to worry that ill turn your sweat glands into acid glands in the middle of the night. amy says that, plus i get to top tonight. riley says fiiiiiiiiine, just go get the bacon. amy gets up.

you say look uh i know you said not to question what youre doing but i kind of dont want a dick made of bacon, not to sound ungrateful. also did you say something about me bleeding out? riley says dont worry, if you bleed out ill put the blood back in, im a professional. you say thats not as reassuring as she thinks it is. riley says whos the doctor, mister? you say technically both of us. i have a phd in social sciences you say. she says wow, theyre just giving out doctorates for anything these days, huh? you say hey, rude. she says only teasing. you say anyway, uh, you didnt address the bacon dick thing? she says oh dont worry about it, my amys amazing, youll see.

amy comes back in with the package of bacon. do you need this in any particular shape she asks. riley says nah just give me a good amount of it. and make sure its spongy, so when he gets hard the blood can- amy cuts her off. she says dont worry, ive given you enough penises at this point that i think i know what penile tissue is like at this point. you say given her enough penises? what the hell does that mean? riley says hey, dont kinkshame! she sounds legitimately offended. you say sorry. amy pulls the bacon out of the package, holding it aloft in her left hand. you watch as the familiar look of a half-pound of bacon shifts and warps into a strange lump of fatty, spongy tissue of a waxy color. she hands it to riley. riley says thanks sis youre the best, love you! amy says no problem. riley says id kiss you if i wasnt elbow deep in this guys cunt right now. amy says kiss me after the surgerys done.

another two hours go by. the sounds of flesh being chopped, sawed, and stitched underscore riley and amys meaningless conversation about whether they HAVE to attend their acquaintance lisa's birthday party. riley says lisa probably wouldn't throw a birthday party if there wasn't some sort of scheme going on. amy agrees but says that doesnt indicate whether they should get involved with the scheme or not. you wonder dimly if you will ever feel your lower body again. you wonder if this is purgatory, an endless afternoon of lesbians bickering affectionately while one of them does surgery on you. you turn your head enough to look at the clock. its 5:26pm. where the fuck did the time go?

another hour passes. riley stands up. she is soaked up to her elbow in various bodily fluids - mostly blood, but youre not looking too closely. she says finally! she says just need to regrow your nerve cells now. you say is that going to take long? she says like twenty minutes maybe as she flips you over. you say ok. she jams a different needle into the same spot, injecting a strange yellow paste into your spine. she then flips you onto your back again. you feel brave enough to finally look at your crotch.

there is a completely normal human penis of average size there. you reach a hand down and touch it. you dont have any sensation in it yet since your nerves are all still dead, but it feels warm and soft under your hands. you smile, feeling tears come to your eyes. its over.

rileys talking. she says i followed your specifications except i had to cheat a bit on the nerves, you actually didnt have very many in your clit for whatever reason so your glans has maybe eight thousand fewer nerves than you wanted, sorry about that. she says i gave you balls in your scrotum for shape but since you said you didnt want kids they dont produce sperm. let me know if you want that changed she says. she says it should be fully functional in every respect, but if you notice any erectile dysfunction, incontinence, discoloration in urine or semen, priapism, or any other issue come back and we'll sort it out. if you notice it bleeding in ANY capacity, call me immediately. if im not answering call Amy, ill give you her number. if SHES not answering either then you can start seeing normal doctors, not that those idiots will know how to help you probably. if you want any changes to it call me and ill pencil you in to get it adjusted. get all that she asks. you nod. she says cool. she says itll be like $200, no rush if youre not able to pay right now. you say it might be a bit since youre still trying to pay interest on your student loan debt. wait, she says, they have student loans again? you nod. she says the world ended like thirty years ago, when did they set up student loans again? fuck, how much do you owe? you say a little under eighty thousand. she says jesus fuck, nevermind, its free. goddamn. you say thank you so much. she says yeah of course. do you want us to dress you or do you want to wait until you can move and do it yourself?

[monzamash]

wouldn't dream of it lando norris x reader rating – 18+ (sex, coarse language, angst) requested by anon for monzamusings ✨

“What are you doing here, Lando?”

“I just needed to see you.”

Things had been good with Lando. You’d started dating a couple of months ago after being set up by a mutual friend who swore up and down that you were made for each other. And she was right for a time, over winter break when life was easy, no real responsibility or commitment needed to keep whatever it was between the two of you simmering away.

Fuelled by passion and lust with a dash of attachment. He was at your place every night nearly, besides Christmas day when you both agreed taking time away from family for a hook up was absurd. He was back in your bed the day after Boxing day, and working you over until New Years Eve, just the two of you tangled up in the sheets, closed off from the rest.

But then you flew to Monaco to see his world. Big mistake. 

It felt enormous. The constant attention and the anxiety, knowing that fans were sneakily taking photos at every opportunity, which always ended up on the silly gossip pages. And they were silly to begin with, salaciously lying about who you were and what you and Lando were until it got under you skin. Stomach churning.

There seemed to be a direct line of online hate funnelled your way and at first you promised Lando you could stomach it, until you couldn’t. It didn’t take long until reality seeped in, cold and harsh, tarnishing something that was so beautiful. It wasn't labelled but it could be in time, if his life was different – if he was a different person. 

Lando could feel you slipping away so he tried to bring you into his weird and wonderful world, to show you that it wasn’t so scary. But the more he introduced you to his "racing friends" and explained what a "paddock walk" was, the further you retreated and you knew a line needed to be drawn in the sand. Before it was too late.

Before it was too hard to let him go. 

It was callous in retrospect – a handwritten note left on his kitchen counter and slipping into an uber to Nice in the dead of the night. Cruel, really but necessary, you lied to yourself. Lando wanted to be surprised, he did. But everything you had written was true, he knew deep down that his life was fucking stressful, he didn't need reminding or how harsh people could be about the women involved with him and if it were anyone else, he would've slipped the letter in the rubbish bin and moved on.

But you were worth fighting for. And so here he was, on your doorstep in Shoreditch at 11pm on a Tuesday. It’s a wonder you answered the door but maybe there was a part of you that hoped it was him. Glassy eyed and dishevelled from the flight.

“I got your voicemails, I know where you stand but it doesn’t change anything.”

“Why didn’t you call me back?” Lando asked, the crease in his brow permanently furrowed in confusion.

“Because everything I needed to say was in the letter.” 

“What? This letter?” He scoffed, slipping his hand into his pocket and pulling out the piece of paper he had been carrying since the day you left. Battered and torn. 

“All this tells me is that you’re scared to let me in and fine! I get that but if theres even a tiny part of you that wants me –wants us to try and make it work, then tell me because I want this…” Lando stepped forward, making his intentions clear.

“I want you.” 

“It’s not that simple,” You sighed, hands instinctively reaching for him as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you both inside. 

You wanted him more than anything.

“I know it’s not, baby,” He whispered back while you pushed the jacket he was wearing from his shoulders, “But we’re so good together… God, you’re beautiful.” 

Lando took a second to bathe in your beauty before tangling you in a fierce kiss, one that had you clutching his shirt even harder, dragging his pliant body towards your bedroom. He knew the way – every wall you came into contact with bringing you closer and closer to the edge of your bed, needy kisses between sharp inhales of breath. 

“I missed you so much, Lan.”

“Fuck, I’ve missed you more.” Lando whimpered as he hovered above and nestled himself between your thighs, hands roaming every inch of skin presented to him. 

The need to have him was bubbling over as you took him in your hand and guided him to where you needed, eyes squeezed shut as he fell forward, trembling arms holding up his aching body, “That’s so fucking good, baby – ugh, so tight f’me.”

You moaned in response as Lando slowly rocked forward, grappling with the surge of pleasure rushing to your core and the relief washing from your limbs. He was your missing puzzle piece and everything else was background noise, dulled when you had him like this – whimpering and moaning sweet nothings in your ear. Silver chains tangled between you as he pressed his greedy lips to your chest, leaving small bites as a reminder of his adoration and desire. 

“I need you, you know?” Lando purred into your ear as you held him close, fingers sprawled across his perspiring back as he fucked you deep, “These last couple of weeks have been hell without you… hated waking up alone and not having you beside me… not being able to hear your voice… I'm down so fucking bad.” 

His soft voice was breaking as the first droplets fell to your neck, “I know what it’s like now to lose you and I won’t ever take you for granted, I swear on my life…” 

Lando's sobs were quick to wrack his chest as you pulled him down, taking his full body weight in your embrace. He couldn't help but succumb to the emotions that had bottled up and finally spilled, every single worry dissipating as you held him close and soothed his tears with a soft hum. 

“Hey, it’s okay, baby – I’m here…” You cooed, brushing your fingers through his tousled curls and trying your hardest to keep it together. But you could feel the welling in your eyes, heartbroken for the man in your arms and the pain you had caused, no matter how much you believed you had done the right thing at the time.

“I know you’ve been dealing with so much and I never wanted to walk away – I just… I didn’t know what to do because I could feel myself falling for you but what I was too stupid to realise was that I was already in love with you – I think I have been since the moment we met…” 

Lando craned his neck, just enough to catch a glimpse of your beautiful eyes boring into his own – sincerity in every fleck. A small smile stretched across his face as he rested his forehead on yours, “I’m in love with you too. Have been since day one.” 

The smiles on your faces couldn’t have been any wider as Lando pressed a slow, sweet kiss to your pouting lips. You couldn’t help but giggle as he nuzzled into your neck, pressing kiss after kiss on your sensitive skin.

“You loooove me,” He sang, tickling your ribs with his eager hands before flipping onto his back and pulling you on top.  

“Oh, so I’m finishing us off, am I?”

“Yeah, I’m tired from the crying,” He shrugged and clutched your hips, playfully rutting them against his own. The moan that fell from your throat betrayed your mind, body and soul and Lando simply smirked, forever pleased with the effect he had on you. 

“If you weren’t so sexy I would leave you like this,” You teased back, rolling back and forth, edging both of you like a woman on a mission. 

“Please don’t ever leave me again,” Lando moaned, gripping tighter with every tantalising movement.

You shook your head and leaned down to press a soft kiss to his flushed cheek, “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

a/n – did i keep it under 1k words? of course not lol but hope you enjoyed x more f1 writing awaits ...

[sluttywonwoo]

the roster | part one of three

pairing: christopher bahng + lee sangyeon + choi seuncheol x f!reader

summary: what happens when all the guys on your roster find out about each other?

warnings: see here (mdni!!!)

word count: 4.4k

series masterlist

You’d been set up. You should have known something was off when Sangyeon texted you to come over. He never texted you first. He was the most reserved of the three, always letting you be the one to reach out to him if you wanted to hook up. 

You shot him an accusatory glare but he pointedly avoided your gaze, choosing instead to stare at something on the ceiling that was apparently much more interesting.  

Seungcheol was the first to speak, of course. “Did you really think we wouldn’t find out?” 

You figured there was no point in lying. They already had you cornered. “Yeah, kind of.” The three of them scoffed in unison, making you hold up your hands in defense. “I didn’t know you guys knew each other like that!”

In fact, you had chosen each of them precisely because you thought there wouldn’t be any conflicts of interest. They were all in different groups, all the leaders of said groups which you thought would mean that they were almost always busy with their members. You didn’t think they had time for friends. Let alone friends who were of different ages and also leaders. 

Chris was the biggest gamble. You knew that he knows almost everyone in the industry and has a lot of friends but you didn’t think he knew the other two guys you were fucking well enough to put together that you were actually sleeping with all of them. 

Everything had been going so well. You had perfected your system over the months, using the boys’ schedules to your advantage so there was never any overlap. Seungcheol got weekends, Sangyeon got Wednesdays and Fridays, and Chris got 3ams on Tuesdays, Thursdays, (and sometimes Fridays if you weren’t sleeping over at Sangyeon’s) because that’s just when he was free. You keep your Mondays and the last full week of every month free so that you have time for yourself. Otherwise you’d drive yourself crazy spending all your time with men. 

You had never agreed to be exclusive with any of them. You made it more than clear that wasn’t what you were looking for. Still, they must have thought you weren’t seeing anyone else because all three of them had shown up to this confrontation and all three of them looked pissed. 

“Is it just the three of us?” Chris chimes in. 

“How much time do you think I have?” you mutter. 

“Just answer the question.”

You look away from them. “Yeah, there’s no one else.”

“Lucky us,” Seungcheol sneers. 

“Hey, you’re the one who said you wanted something casual,” you remind him, your tone icy. “You wanted to sleep around with no strings attached and I agreed.”

You’ve known Seungcheol the longest. You were friends first, through your job, but it quickly turned into something more. You couldn’t keep your hands off each other, spending nights and mornings together. Going to sleep and waking up and stealing kisses in elevators. Talking on the phone for hours and planning dates in the different cities he was touring in. 

He shut you down before you could get too delusional about it, though, stating plainly that all he wanted was a strict friends-with-benefits sort of situation. You still remember the feeling of your throat burning as you fought back tears, telling him that was perfectly fine, that you felt the same way. 

You couldn’t let yourself get too attached to a man who didn’t want you in the same way you wanted him so you looked for a distraction and found one in Lee Sangyeon. You met him through Jacob, a younger member of his group. Sangyeon was the perfect distraction. He was charming and funny, never one to take himself too seriously. He was a real gentleman and it didn’t hurt that he had a huge dick. 

You were the one to broach the topic of nonexclusivity with him this time, wanting to beat him to it. You knew exactly what all of these idols wanted. Choi Seungcheol had taught you that lesson early on. Sangyeon took it well, at least, as well as you expected him to. He told you he was on the same page as you, that he was just looking for something casual and you believed him. Now, looking at the expression on his face as he listens to the two other men talk, you’re not sure. 

And then Chris just sort of fell into your lap. You weren’t looking for anything else. Juggling two men was enough work. You just so happened to run into him at some after party, stopping him to compliment his music. One thing led to another and you were shoving your tongue down his throat in a dark closet. Apparently he had a thing for praise. 

Neither of you had to be the one to friend(swithbenefits)zone the other. You brought it up one night as you laid in his bed together and he was quick to agree. 

“Yeah, I don’t have time for anything more than... this, right now,” he sighed. He sounded a little regretful about it, like he thought he was being an asshole despite you voicing the same sentiment. 

So you hadn’t been doing anything wrong- even if your brain liked to tell you otherwise sometimes. You defined the (non)relationships with each of them, used protection with all of them, you weren’t leading anyone on... it had just so happened to get a little bit... messy, for lack of a better word. 

-

“No strings attached doesn’t mean I want you to fuck my friends!” Seungcheol huffs, running a hand through his hair. 

“I didn’t know you were friends with them!” you cry, throwing your head back onto the back of the couch in frustration and accidentally banging your head against the wall in the process. 

“Are you okay?” Sangyeon asks, wincing. 

The other two side-eye him. 

“I’m fine. But why am I here? Did you bring me here just to yell at me?”

“Not exactly,” Chris says, smirking. 

You look to the other men for an explanation but neither of them offer any further explanation. 

“Then why?”

Chris slides his hands in his front pockets and shrugs. “Well, if you’re up for it, the three of us thought we might have a little fun with you.”

“What does that mean?”

Seungcheol steps forward and mirrors Chan’s stance, cocking his head to the side for good measure. You have to fight the urge to roll your eyes, knowing it would only make things worse for you. 

To be fair, all the posturing would be a lot more annoying if they weren’t the hottest men you’d ever seen in your life. 

“I think you know what that means,” Cheol adds, supplying absolutely nothing helpful. 

“Obviously I don’t or I wouldn’t have asked,” you argue. 

Seungcheol whistles and then looks to his friends. “Is she this bratty with you guys?” Chris gives an ‘eh’ hand motion whilst Sangyeon nods outright. “Yeah, I figured.”

“Did you think you were getting special treatment?” you taunt, surprising even yourself. 

He scowls but doesn’t respond, probably in an effort to maintain some semblance of self-control in front of the other two. If it were just you and him, you’d have a hand around your throat already. And maybe that’s what you wanted. Maybe your mouth was working faster than your brain in order to get a specific... reaction out of them like you normally would. Or maybe your mouth just liked to get you in trouble. 

From the way they were acting, they obviously hadn’t lured you here just to hang out. It had to be some sort of sex thing, right? You certainly weren’t opposed, you just needed to figure out what game they were playing so that you could be dealt in. 

“We were curious about which one of us you like the most,” Chris says finally. At least someone was interested in getting to the fucking point. 

You blink at him then turn to look at Seungcheol who just nods in confirmation. “You want me to... rank you? Why?”

“You’re the one who has us on a little roster,” Sangyeon points out, sounding a little mean for the first time tonight. “Surely you’ve thought about it before.”

You shake your head. “I haven’t. I mean, I like all of you guys! I wouldn’t hang out with you if I didn’t.”

“We don’t care about hanging out, we want to know who you think is the best in bed,” Seungcheol clarifies. 

“What?”

“You know, who’s the best fuck?”

“Why do you even care?” you ask. “Like what are you getting out of this?”

“Just a little competition between friends,” Chris assures you with a wink. 

“I... wouldn’t even know where to start,” you insist. 

“We thought you might say that,” Seungcheol hums as he steps closer to you. “Which is why we thought we could test it in real time.”

“In real time?”

“Yeah, let us fuck you, then you tell us who’s best.”

“Right now?” 

Seungcheol shrugs. “You asked why we brought you here.”

“And you just assumed I’d be down?”

“Yeah,” all three of them say at the same time. 

It’s your turn to scoff. So that’s what they think of you. You shouldn’t have expected anything different, to be fair. It wasn’t like you were a saint. You literally had your dick appointments with all of them penciled into your Google Calendar every week. 

“C’mon, baby, we know you by now,” Chris adds, plopping down on the sofa next to you. He stretches his arm across the back of it like guys like to do, opening himself up for you to lean into him if you wanted to. “Are you saying you don’t want us to take turns fucking your brains out?”

You stay silent. 

“Should we take that as a yes?” Sangyeon asks. 

“I’d say so,” Chris agrees.

Seungcheol claps his hands together decisively and then points to the man sitting next to you. “Chan, you’re up first then, yeah? That’s how you do it in your group, right? Youngest first?”

He’s mocking him but Chris doesn’t acknowledge it. If there’s one thing you know about Bang Chan, it’s that he’s not one to back down from a challenge, and while going first in this sort of competition must be daunting he doesn’t look the least bit shaken. 

“Are we doing this here?” he asks the older two. 

Sangyeon considers it and shrugs. “We should probably move to the bed, right?” 

“Dude, it’s your house.”

“There’s more room on the bed,” Sangyeon decides, offering you his hand. 

You take it and he helps you up from the couch. You step in front of the boys and lead them to Sangyeon’s bedroom, calling “it’s this way,” over your shoulder just to be a menace. You can’t see the faces they make behind you but you hear Sangyeon chuckle under his breath. 

You flick on one of his table lamps and make yourself comfortable on the bed, patting the spot next to you for Chris to join you. He does and puts a hand on your thigh, squeezing your thigh comfortingly. Seungcheol and Sangyeon lean against the dresser across from the bed in the most non-awkward way they can manage. 

Somehow, they both still look intimidating despite the fact that they’re essentially about to be cucked by one of their closest friends. 

“What now?” you ask. 

Chris brings one of his hands up to cup your cheek and leans in. “Now, we do this.”

He kisses you gently at first. Whether it’s to ease your nerves or his own, you aren’t sure, but he starts slow, building up to what you’re used to. His thumb strokes your cheek as if to reassure you as he deepens the kiss and slips his tongue into your mouth. His other hand that had been resting on your hip fumbles with your pants. 

“Just pretend they aren’t there,” he whispers. 

It’s impossible to do when you can feel the weight of their stares on you but you try to relax anyway, reminding yourself that something like this has been a fantasy of yours for a while now. You never thought it would actually happen and you definitely didn’t think it would be with them but with your luck you honestly shouldn’t be as surprised as you are. 

“This isn’t going to work if you don’t relax,” Chris continues, low enough for only you to hear. “I kind of have something to prove here.”

“You don’t have anything to prove,” you assure him. “You’re great in bed.”

“They don’t know that,” he hisses. 

“Sorry, sorry, I forgot this is just a competition to you guys,” you grumble. 

He chuckles. “What, you want me to make love to you in front of them? Because I will.”

“I think that’d be even more embarrassing, somehow.” 

“Exactly, now lay down and let me fuck you brainless so you can’t overthink anymore.”

He had such a way with words, that Bang Chan did. 

He shifts so you can lay down and take your pants off. Your shirt goes next, leaving you in just your underwear. It’s the most exposed you’ve ever felt even though you’ve been completely naked in front of all three men before. 

Chris snaps the elastic waistband of your cotton panties against your hip and smirks. “Cute.”

You pout, ready to defend your granny panties but Sangyeon pipes up from the other side of the room before you can.

“She doesn’t care what she wears over to mine because she knows it won’t stay on long anyway.”

That was actually true. You dressed the most comfortably to hang out with Sangyeon because you knew he wouldn’t care. It wasn’t like Chris or Seungcheol cared more, and you didn’t really dress up for them either, but there was a notable difference between the amount of effort you put in for each man, something you hadn’t noticed until just now. 

“She wet yet?” Seungcheol asks, sounding bored. 

You know it’s just a front so his jealousy and impatience won’t shine through because it’s not a very good one. Seungcheol is not and never has been good at hiding his feelings. 

Chris shoots him a look. “I was getting to that.” 

Seungcheol holds his hands up in defense but thankfully keeps his mouth shut. 

Chris sucks in a breath of patience and brings his hand in between your legs, fingers tracing your slit. Your cheeks grow warm with embarrassment because you are, in fact, wet. You have been since they sat you down and stood in front of you like you were going to be scolded for doing something wrong. 

“Yeah, she’s fucking wet,” Chris rasps. “Jesus Christ, baby. I bet your joggers are ruined too.”

His teasing makes you try to close your thighs around his hand but his reflexes beat yours and he catches your knee to force your legs back open. 

“Nice try.”

“You’re the worst.”

His fingers start to wander beneath the fabric of your panties, feather light touches that already have you gasping for breath. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do, I really do.”

“Want me to stop?” he threatens.

“What happened to having something to prove?” you mutter back. 

“Always such a fucking brat,” he muses, jaw tight. 

“Don’t act like you don’t love that about me.”

“You’re consistent, I’ll give you that.”

Chris leans down and kisses you again, presumably to get you to stop talking. It works, of course. He lets his tongue explore your mouth while his hands explore your body, still not giving you what you really want. 

Eventually, he slips a finger inside, taking you by surprise and making you gasp as you grab at him for something to squeeze. He offers you his arm and you take it, fingernails digging into his bicep. 

“It’s just one finger, baby,” Chris coos. 

“Feels.... good, though,” you squeak. 

He adds another right as you start to get used to the feeling of the first and you have to take a deep breath to keep yourself from making another embarrassing noise. 

“Don’t hold back. Let the boys know how good I’m making you feel.”

Seungcheol scoffs, tonguing his cheek. “You don’t have to fake it for him, babe.” 

“Are you sure you guys are friends?” you pant. 

They don’t answer, leaving you to draw the conclusions yourself. You’re sure they were friends... whether they would be after this was another story. 

Chris crooks his fingers up, knowing you won’t be able to stay quiet once he does. He’s right. You moan, albeit quietly, and arch into his touch. 

“So what are the parameters of this competition?” Chris asks the other two and turns his head towards them while he continues to work his fingers in and out of you. 

“What do you mean?” Sangyeon asks back. 

“Like, does foreplay count? Or is she judging solely based on our stroke game?”

Seungcheol considers it for a moment before looking to Sangyeon. “What do you think?”

“I think the judgment should include foreplay,” he says. “Foreplay is part of sex after all.”

“Good point,” Chris agrees. “Any other rules?” They shake their heads. “What about you, baby? Do you have any rules for us?”

You purse your lips as you think, trying not to lose focus with his fingers inside of you. “Just don’t go too hard. I do have to work on Monday.”

It’s only Friday night now, but knowing them, you’ll probably be sore for at least a couple of days afterward. 

Chris laughs. “We’ll do our best. Right, guys?”

They mumble what sounds like an agreement and Sangyeon even gives you a thumbs-up. 

“Can I keep going?” Chris asks you. 

“You didn’t really stop,” you point out.

He had still been fingering you lazily throughout the whole aside. It wasn’t enough to get you off but it was certainly distracting. You had to try very hard to concentrate on what they were saying. 

“C’mon, this is nothing,” he teases, bringing his thumb to your clit as he starts to kiss your neck. “How’s that?” he murmurs into your ear, 

“G-good...”

“Just good? Must be doing something wrong, then.”

Before you can deny it, he adds a third finger, earning a loud cry from you this time. You feel him grin against your throat, hiding his smug satisfaction from the other two. 

“Spread your legs wider for me, baby. Let them see.”

You do as you’re told even though it’s hard. It’s so much. You want to squeeze them around his hand again but you know you’ll only get told off if you do. 

“Good girl,” he praises, making you whimper. 

“That’s all it takes, doesn’t it?” Seungcheol mutters. “We just have to call you a good girl and you’re making a mess all over us, right?”

You squirm, arousal and embarrassment pooling in your belly. You can tell Chris wants to give Cheol shit for butting in when it’s supposed to be his turn, but he doesn’t because his words are technically helping him. You get even wetter around his fingers, a detail Chris elects not to share with the room. 

You’re sure they can see it, though, or at least hear it. The sounds are obscene. 

It’s mortifying. You want to die. But first you want to cum. 

Two of your favorite things about Chris are his hands. They’re huge, especially for a guy his height, and absolutely gorgeous. Thick veins run across the backs of them from his knuckles up through his forearms- he’s a nurse’s wet dream, and yours. You’ve spent an absurd amount of time tracing them with your own fingers when you’re laying in bed together after hooking up and more often than not, it’s enough to make you want to go again. 

He’s good with them too because of course he is. Bang Chan is annoyingly good at everything he does, including but not limited to: making you cum. 

“Already?” Chris muses under his breath. “Does having an audience turn you on that much?”

“Sh-shut up.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say to someone who can take their fingers away any time they want to.”

“No, please!” you protest.

“That’s what I thought. Do you want to cum on my fingers? Or should I make you wait for it?” He’s talking to himself at this point but you answer anyway. 

“I-I don’t know...”

“Probably should let you, huh? You’re still so tight.”

You don’t get another word out before it hits you, your body curling in on Chan’s hand as he finger fucks you through your first orgasm of the night. As soon as you come down, he’s taking his fingers out of you and sucking them into his mouth, kissing you right after so you can taste yourself on his lips. 

“Good job, baby,” he murmurs into your mouth as he adds his tongue back into the mix. “Ready for me now?”

“Mhm...”

“Condoms are in the nightstand,” Sangyeon says, nodding in the direction of the bedside table. 

Chris reaches over and pulls the drawer out, whistling at the other things he finds rolling around in the compartment. 

“This hers?” he asks, holding up a vibrator.

“Who else’s would it be?” Sangyeon mutters. 

“I don’t know what you do in your free time, man.”

He drops the toy back in its place and grabs a condom from the box tucked in the corner of the same drawer. The odds of one size fitting three different men were slim, but having slept with each of them you’re sure they’ll be able to make it work. 

Chris hands you the foil packet, allowing you to do the honors of tearing it open with your teeth while he works on getting naked. 

Seungcheol whistles jeeringly at Chan as he takes his cock out and pumps it a couple of times. You can see the back of Chan’s neck flush red but he remains steady as he rolls the latex on. You realize it must be difficult for him to have an audience too, though he has nothing to be self conscious about. Even if they aren’t showing it, you know the other two have to be impressed.

He’s the perfect balance of long and thick and just like his hands, defined veins run up the length of his shaft. You’ve spent what feels like hours tracing those veins with your tongue, watching him shiver under your touch. Most dicks aren’t pretty but Christopher Bahng’s certainly is.

“Ready?” Chris asks, rubbing your thigh with his palm.  

“Yeah,” you breathe.

Since he already made you cum, he’s able to slip in without much resistance- but he’s big enough that the stretch is still intense, making your eyes roll back in pleasure as you stifle a whimper. 

He gives you a moment to adjust once he’s fully inside you, teasing only a little bit with slight movements of his hips. 

“God, that feels good,” you moan.

“I know, baby,” he murmurs sweetly, “you’re taking it so well for me.”

He brushes a couple of strands of hair out of your eyes so that you can see him properly. Obstructed view or not, he’s beautiful on top of you. His own bangs have already started to stick to his forehead and the pink flush of embarrassment has somewhat faded and turned into that of exertion, spreading from the back of his neck to his chest and face and matching the kiss-bitten swell of his lips. The muscles in his arms and shoulders are engaged with the effort it takes to hold himself above you, making him look even bigger. 

His eyes are soft, even as the rest of his features take on a more sinister expression. That was one of the things that made sex with Chris so good. He genuinely cares for you, not just as a lover, but as a person. Lots of guys put effort into making the other party feel good during sex but that doesn’t mean they care about them. It’s not like that with Chris. 

“Want it faster?” he asks you. You nod. “Ask nicely.”

You should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy. 

“Please...”

He frees one of his hands and uses it to stroke your cheek. “‘Please,’ what?”

“Faster,” you squeak. 

“Is that the best you can do?” Seungcheol scoffs from the sidelines. 

“I’ll let her off easy this time,” Chris responds. “She can hardly think straight as it is, isn’t that right?”

Another nod. 

You get what you want and Chan picks up the pace, snapping his hips into yours in quick, shallow thrusts. 

“You’re getting tighter again,” he grunts, faltering imperceptibly. “You’re making this too easy for me.”

One of the other two makes what you assume is a snide remark but you don’t catch it because everything starts to fade into the background as you start to cum around Chan’s cock. It catches both of you off guard, you can tell. It isn’t unusual for you to finish from penetration alone but it usually takes a lot longer. 

“Holy shit, you’re so- fuck, you’re going to make me cum.”

He keeps going after you come down, chasing his own release. It’s almost enough to send you into a third orgasm but he cums before you can get there which is both a relief and a disappointment. 

You whine as the feeling ebbs and let yourself go boneless underneath him. He follows suit and collapses face first next to you on the mattress. 

“Sorry,” he whispers to you. “I would’ve kept going but I didn’t want you to be too sensitive for them.”

You nod in understanding and pat him appreciatively on the back. 

The room is quiet as the three men wait for you to catch your breath. Chris ensures you’re okay before rolling off the bed and joining the other two by the dresser. He mentions something about cleaning you up when you’re all done and offers to fetch you a glass of water. 

“There’s a Brita in the fridge,” Sangyeon tells him after also pointing him in the direction of the cabinet that holds the cups. 

He disappears into the hall and you gather what little strength you have to pop your head up and address the two remaining leaders at the foot of the bed. 

“Who’s next?”

this has been in the works for way too long lol but lmk what you think! i always appreciate feedback!!

tags: @minghaosimp @butterfliesinthenightsky @lelestarmy @stolasisyourparent @brownbunnyb @tinkerbell460 @cixrosie

add yourself to the taglist here

[ms-snape]

Hello, can you just write severu x reader? Some angst but fluff at the end? She’s try several times makes first move but he is just Severus. He won’t realize until she stop with trying to get to him. Thank you.

Title: Too Late?

Warning: Angst

Words Count: 3000+

Masterlist

---

Professor Y/N L/N loved the quiet, the calm of the Hogwarts greenhouse. The smell of damp earth and the soft rustle of leaves were her comfort. It was a sanctuary, a place where she could lose herself in the careful tending of magical plants, and a place where she could allow her thoughts to wander — especially to him.

Severus Snape.

She didn’t quite know when it had happened, or how it had grown so deeply rooted in her heart, but somewhere between the late-night faculty meetings, the shared glances in the staff room, and the way his voice lingered just a bit longer than necessary when addressing her, Y/N had found herself hopelessly in love with him.

It was ridiculous, really. She, the soft-spoken Herbology professor, with her love for nature and her quiet kindness, had fallen for the cold, brooding Potions Master. He was a man of sharp words, dark eyes, and a demeanor so cold it could freeze the very air around him. His silences spoke volumes, and his gaze could pierce you, if you weren’t careful.

Yet despite the distance, despite his icy exterior, she had tried. Tried, again and again, to show him that she was different. That she could be something more. That she cared. But he didn't seem to notice.... Or at least pretended not to....

--

It was a Tuesday morning, and Y/N was working diligently in the greenhouse, tending to the mandrakes. The plants had been quite active lately, and their cries were always a challenge. She hummed softly as she carefully repotted one of the mandrakes, the soft clink of her trowel against the ceramic pot soothing in the otherwise quiet room.

She hadn’t heard him approach.

"Professor L/N," came his voice, low and familiar.

Y/N’s heart stuttered. She straightened quickly, wiping her hands on her apron, trying to hide the flutter of nervousness in her chest.

"Professor Snape," she said, smiling a little too brightly. "I didn’t hear you come in. How can I help you?"

His black robes swished around him as he stepped into the greenhouse, his eyes narrowing slightly as they scanned the plants. His gaze flicked over the mandrakes, the fanged geraniums, the bubotubers. He was a master of his craft, of course, but the world of Herbology wasn’t one he usually paid attention to. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth when he stood so close.

"I’m just inspecting your work," he said, his tone sharp but not unkind. "You’ve been… diligent."

She nodded eagerly, pleased by his praise, though she wasn’t sure if it was meant as one. "I’m always happy to share what I know, Professor Snape. Perhaps I could show you some of the more—"

"No need." His voice was clipped, dismissive. "You are doing fine. Just make sure the plants don’t become too… unruly."

She bit her lip, her smile faltering, but she kept her voice steady. "Of course. I’ll keep an eye on them. Would you like to join me for a cup of tea after your rounds? I’ve been experimenting with a new blend of chamomile and valerian root. It’s quite calming."

The words hung in the air between them like a delicate thread, fragile and vulnerable.

Severus Snape didn’t respond immediately. His eyes flicked over her face, as if searching for something in her expression. His lips were thin, his brow furrowed slightly.

"I do not have time for tea, miss Y/L/N." His tone softened, but it was still cold. "I suggest you spend more time with your plants than offering tea to your colleagues."

She blinked, feeling a pang of hurt pierce her chest, though she quickly masked it with a polite nod. "Of course. I understand. Maybe some other time, then."

He didn’t say anything more. He simply turned and walked away, his black robes sweeping behind him like a shadow.

Y/N stood in the middle of the greenhouse, staring after him, her heart sinking. It had been the same every time.

A week had passed since that encounter in the greenhouse. The morning had been busy with classes, and now Y/N found herself in the staff room, going through some notes and preparing for the afternoon lesson. It was always the same. She would prepare, she would smile, and yet the reactions from Severus were always cold.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the door opened, and Severus stepped into the room. His black eyes flickered over her, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. They both knew why he was here — the weekly staff meeting was starting soon.

Y/N straightened and greeted him with a polite smile, as always. "Good afternoon, Severu. How was your morning?"

He gave her a curt nod. "Uneventful."

The silence stretched between them, thick and uncomfortable. Y/N had tried to fill it once with a conversation about a rare plant she had recently discovered, but he had barely acknowledged it. His eyes were always distant, always elsewhere.

She didn’t know why she kept trying. Why she kept hoping that one day, he might see her. That he might realize that she wasn’t just another colleague, another face in the crowd. She didn’t know why she thought her kindness might be enough to break through the fortress he’d built around himself.

But despite it all, she kept trying.

As the staff meeting started, she sat across from him, her attention on the various discussions about upcoming events, but her thoughts were elsewhere — on him. Always on him. His sharp profile, the way his fingers drummed on the armrest of his chair, the occasional glance in her direction.

She could feel his eyes on her at times, though she couldn’t be sure if it was just her imagination. She didn’t have the courage to look up and meet his gaze, but she always felt the weight of it, a silent pressure.

A few days later, after another failed attempt to make him notice her — a carefully chosen compliment, a smile, a lingering look — Y/N had had enough. She had poured her heart into her attempts, trying to show him that she wasn’t like the others. That she could understand him, if only he would let her. But he wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t let anyone in.

It was a quiet night in the castle, and Y/N found herself walking through the hallways toward her quarters. She had spent the entire day in the greenhouse, putting in extra hours, hoping to take her mind off the frustration of the past few weeks.

The door to her room creaked as she entered, and the warmth of the fire that crackled in the hearth greeted her. She closed the door softly behind her, leaning against it for a moment, her heart heavy.

She had tried. She had been so kind, so patient, so open. But Severus would never look at her the way she had hoped.

Tears stung her eyes, though she didn’t let them fall. She wiped her face quickly, determined not to let the hurt consume her. She wasn’t going to chase someone who couldn’t even acknowledge her efforts.

No more trying.

The next day, Y/N was different. She kept to herself more than usual, focusing entirely on her work, her plants, the students. She had stopped making any attempt to speak with Severus, stopped offering him tea or trying to catch his eye.

And it didn’t take long for Severus to notice.

He wasn’t sure when it started. At first, he thought it was a fleeting thing, just another mood, another oddity in her usual demeanor. But when the days stretched into a week, and he saw her pulling away from him more and more, it began to gnaw at him.

He didn’t understand it.

Why did her absence bother him so much? Why did the sight of her avoiding him, walking past him without so much as a glance, make something in his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t explain?

He found himself watching her from afar, noting the way she no longer lingered in the staff room, no longer made small talk, no longer gave him those tentative smiles. The warmth that had always seemed to radiate from her was gone.

It bothered him more than he cared to admit.

Severus sat alone in his office late one night, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows across the stone walls. His mind was racing, and for once, the calm, measured pace of his thoughts seemed to have been interrupted by something… something unexpected.

Y/N.

Her absence.

Why did it matter? Why did it hurt?

He had spent years perfecting the art of indifference, of never allowing himself to feel anything that could be used against him. And yet, here he was, unable to focus, unable to keep his mind from wandering back to her.

The way her eyes sparkled when she spoke about her plants. The soft way she laughed. The way she cared for things. For him, in ways he couldn’t understand.

It was then, in the quiet solitude of his office, that Severus Snape realized something that terrified him.

He missed her.

And he had no idea how to fix it.

Severus Snape sat in his darkened office, staring into the flickering flames of the hearth, his mind a turbulent sea. The realization that he had been ignoring Y/N’s feelings — that he had pushed her away in his usual cold, dismissive manner — had only just hit him, and the weight of it was suffocating. He had been too absorbed in his own self-imposed isolation, too locked away in his fortress of bitterness and skepticism, to notice what had been so painfully clear to everyone else.

Y/N was gone.

Her warmth had disappeared from the corridors, from the staff room, from the greenhouse. And the coldness in his heart, which he had always managed to keep at bay, now gnawed at him like a hungry animal.

But he didn’t know how to fix it.

The door to his office creaked open, and Severus was momentarily startled from his thoughts. He raised his eyes, expecting to see the usual ghostly figure of one of the students needing a late-night potion or a missing assignment. Instead, it was Minerva McGonagall, her stern features softened by concern.

"Severus," she said, her tone unusually gentle, "I thought I might find you here."

"Minerva," he replied with a slight nod, though his voice was edged with weariness. "I trust there's a reason for this unannounced visit?"

Minerva didn’t immediately respond. She stepped inside and closed the door behind her, her movements deliberate, and her gaze sharp as always. She had been his colleague for years, and over that time, she had come to understand him more than most. But there was something different about her today, something perceptive in the way her eyes followed his every movement, as if weighing something heavy.

"I need to speak with you, Severus," she said, her voice quieter now. "And I believe you need to hear me out."

Severus tilted his head, his interest piqued. "I’m listening."

Minerva took a deep breath before sitting down opposite him. Her hands folded neatly in her lap as she began, carefully choosing her words.

"I've noticed the way things have been between you and Y/N lately," she started, her gaze steady but soft. "And I’m sure you’ve noticed, too. She’s been… distant not only to you but to everyone."

Severus stiffened, his chest tightening. "I hadn’t noticed," he replied, though even to his own ears, the words sounded hollow. He had noticed of course. How could he not? The absence of her smile, the quiet that surrounded her every time they crossed paths — it was impossible to ignore. He had simply been too afraid to confront it.

Minerva’s gaze softened with an almost imperceptible sigh. "Of course you noticed, Severus. But I don’t think you understand why she’s been avoiding you."

He frowned, his brows knitting together. "She has her reasons, no doubt. But if it’s something about my behavior, then it’s none of your concern."

Minerva leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping to a quieter, more direct tone. "Maybe not but it is your concern, Severus. Y/N has been avoiding you because she’s finally given up. She cares about you more than you realize — more than you’ve ever given her credit for. She’s been trying to show you that for months."

Severus recoiled slightly, as if struck. "What are you talking about?"

Minerva’s eyes softened, though there was an unmistakable firmness to her words. "Y/N is not the kind of person to wear her heart on her sleeve. But she’s a kind woman, a generous soul, and she’s been trying, in her own quiet way, to get your attention. She’s been patient, thoughtful, and kind, always offering you small gestures — a smile, an invitation, a word of encouragement — things she knew you needed, even if you didn’t ask for them. But you never noticed. You’ve always been so consumed by your own… distance, your own walls, that you failed to see how much she cared for you."

Severus felt something twist inside of him, sharp and painful. He thought of all the times he had dismissed her, all the times he had pushed her away. The little moments, the fleeting glances, the kindness she had shown him without asking for anything in return. The realization hit him like a jolt of electricity — he had been blind. Completely blind.

"She’s given up, Severus," Minerva continued, her voice full of quiet understanding. "She’s stopped trying. And that… that is what you’re feeling now. The absence of something you took for granted. But you need to realize something — it’s not too late. If you want her to stay, if you want her to know how much you care… then you need to show her. You need to show her before she walks away completely."

Her words hung in the air between them, heavy and undeniable. Severus’s mind was whirling, and his stomach churned with regret. He couldn’t let her go. Not like this. Not when he was finally starting to understand the depth of his own feelings.

Minerva stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch surprisingly gentle. "Don’t waste any more time, Severus. I’ve seen the way you look at her when you think no one’s watching. You’re not as good at hiding it as you think. She deserves to know how you feel. If you don’t tell her now, you may never get the chance again."

Severus nodded, his face grim but determined. He had no more excuses. He needed to act.

It was late in the evening when Severus finally made his way to the greenhouse. He had spent hours pacing his office, turning Minerva’s words over in his mind, until he had worked up the courage to do what he should have done weeks ago.

Y/N was there, as always, amidst the plants that seemed to bloom brighter in her presence. She was kneeling beside a potted plant, carefully tending to its roots, her back turned to the door.

For a moment, Severus hesitated. His heart was pounding in his chest, and for the first time in a long while, he felt vulnerable. His pride had kept him distant for so long, but now, standing in front of her, it felt like he had nothing left but the raw truth of his feelings.

"Professor L/N," he said, his voice low but steady.

Y/N’s head snapped up in surprise. She looked at him for a long moment, her face unreadable. "Professor Snape," she replied quietly, her voice just as cold as it had been the past few weeks. "I wasn’t expecting you."

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to step closer, the sound of his boots on the stone floor loud in the silence. "I owe you an apology, Y/N."

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, and she stood, brushing her hands on her apron. "You owe me nothing, Professor."

Severus shook his head, the words rushing out before he could stop them. "No. I do owe you something. I’ve been… blind. I’ve ignored you, pushed you away, and I’ve been foolish. I’ve taken your kindness for granted and never once thought to reciprocate it. I never realized how much you… how much you meant to me." He paused, swallowing against the tightness in his throat. "You were trying, weren’t you? Trying to tell me how you felt, trying to show me you cared. And I—"

Y/N’s expression softened, though there was still a hint of sadness in her eyes. "Severus, you don’t have to do this," she said quietly, her voice trembling slightly. "It’s too late."

"No," he said, his voice more insistent now. "It’s not too late. I was a fool, and I’m sorry. I don’t expect forgiveness, but I can’t stand the thought of you walking away because I didn’t see what was right in front of me. Please. I—"

Y/N took a step closer, her eyes searching his face, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Severus saw something in her eyes that wasn’t guarded. Something warm. Vulnerable.

"You don’t have to apologize," she said, her voice soft but steady. "I didn’t think you’d ever see me like that. I gave up, Severus. I thought you didn’t want me around."

Severus reached out, his hand hovering just in front of her as if afraid to touch her. "I was wrong. I was so wrong."

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound in the greenhouse was the soft rustling of leaves, the distant hum of magic in the air. Then, with a gentle but firm motion, Severus reached out and took her hand in his. His heart raced, and for the first time, he allowed himself to be vulnerable — to let her see what had been hidden behind the icy walls he had built for so long.

Y/N’s gaze softened, and she squeezed his hand, her lips parting slightly as if to speak, but instead, she just looked at him — with warmth, with understanding.

And for once, Severus didn’t feel alone.