#they were so loving and pure and their character’s made each other better.

[rosewood-multifandom-writer]

My long, nuanced answer to this poll about shipping:

I like to think about different possibilities of a ship regardless on if it’s canon or not canon, and the majority of my ships are not canon. Which I’m okay with because corpos sometimes tend to mess up canon couples anyway ESPECIALLY most LGBT+ couples, so that is why I am 100% content with say, Destiel not being canon. Don’t worry, I’m not using that Destiel meme that has been used very distastefully nor am I swearing with my whole chest until I run out of oxygen that Dean is bisexual in canon. You can take a breather. Specified ships aside, I like romance, and I love it even better when it’s well written and the couple has the best chemistry.

When it comes to others that love toxic ships, that is a whole different discussion for those particular shippers to have, and I prefer ships that have a lot of chemistry or potential chemistry over toxic ships, so I’m not the right person to discuss the nuances of toxic ships. So the toxic ship lovers can throw their opinions onto this reblog if they want.

I’ve also had ships where they were off-screen, and I was like, “but what if they actually did interact?” I always think about the personality traits that would make the characters compatible with each other. This is NOT a romantic ship, this is purely a familial relationship possibility that I have not seen anyone do yet: Jason Todd and Terry McGinnis. Think about it, people. Jason has a few similar traits to Terry and Jason would definitely find himself relating to Terry more than some of the other Batfamily members. Plus, it would be refreshing to see those two interact and have Jason not be constantly fighting with the Batfamily, specifically Bruce Wayne. I get that his opinions and views are very different from everyone else in the Batfamily, but it gets old fast. Like an old and hardened Jason Todd will probably incorporate some cool non-lethal wrist guns on Terry’s suit after testing it out and even sparring with Terry while (playfully) teasing him because that’s what older siblings do: annoy and taunt their younger siblings. With love. Seriously though, I think Jason and Terry would have the best brotherly relationship out of the Batfam. Or maybe I’m just alone in that teeny tiny minority lol. Call it a rare BROTP.

Fanon in shipping is a mixed bag, because on one hand, I go, “yeah, I can definitely see this happening with Character A,” but on the other, there is like OP said, mischaracterization. I like most ships even if it involves a character who is canonically spoken for or has explicitly shown attraction to only the opposite gender with another character with ZERO cheating, because I don’t need ships to follow canon. And when cheating gets involved I’m thinking, “yeah no, given the loyalty this character gave in canon, this is out of their character, so skipping!” That is where fanon comes into play. But if I dislike the fanon, then I create my own.

Shipping has no rules, except just respect other people’s boundaries, so I’m not gonna tell people “ew gross, why you following canon,” or “Blegh, why do you like this fanon, it’s so blah blah blah!” My opinions on canon vs fandom are nuanced. Canon can sometimes give us some cute pairings (like Kiara and Kovu from Lion King 2, my GOATED OTP) but canon also gives us icky ones or messes up a fairly nice couple (like Gambit and Rogue from the latest X-Men cartoon from what I heard and saw clips of). There are also non-canon ships that have made me scratch my head, made me feel indifferent, or I’m just like “I don’t get why anyone would ship this, but whatever.” And again, shipping has no rules, except just respect the boundaries of other people. Canon or not, have some fun with your ships. Let’s not start wars over ships and making non-shippers think that ALL of us act that way.

Hey, I wanna talk about how we do fandom! I've come to realize that I, personally, tend to differ from many others in that I highly prefer to only engage with a text as it's written, so I don't tend to really like fanon/extremely ooc characterizations and I find it hard to get invested in ships that aren't canon. My way of doing fandom isn't better or worse than anyone else's, but I am curious about how much of a minority I'm in! So:

*We've all seen ships of characters not from the same media and stuff like shipping the concept of ennui with the color blue, okay, I'm asking what you, personally, find compelling!

[chann3l-chas3r]

Do you have any thoughts on Finn, or a design for him?? :3

I ask purely bc he's my fave and I LOVE your artstyle and depictions of the toons.

Finn is quite the guy and there's a LOT to speculate on with his character purely bc we get so little about him. We know he's respectful and likes jokes. That's pretty much all we got for him.

He also has one of the most interesting twisteds (imo) bc I like to wonder how that rlly .. happened I suppose? Like, dude lost his legs. He's one of the most physically damaged twisteds and I love seeing people's HCs for how that happened.

Sorry for the rambling hehe I just really like this dude

Finn is adorable and I love his goofy puns! I hadn't drawn him yet so I scribbled up some stuff:

My headcanon for the Toons in general is that they're these sort of... robot-golem-things, for lack of a better term, so I try to think about how they'd be built.

Any Toon with a glass 'face'--Rodger, Glisten, Poppy, and Finn--has the face projected instead of it being a physical thing. (This does unfortunately mean that they don't get to enjoy eating food; they have to refuel directly with ichor and sugar-water.)

This is also because it just makes it easier to draw them with transparent parts; if Finn had, like, actual eyeballs, you'd be able to see the backs of them and the mechanical bits inside his head. Kids probably wouldn't like that lol

The primary reason Gardenview was so bent on him having a transparent head as an important design feature was so he could display actual fish in them while giving lessons. He'd scoop one up, stick it in his head, and go around letting the kids get a closer view.

Finn also has a gyroscope in him that helps him keep his head level. His neck is also particularly flexible for this reason, so he doesn't tip and spill water everywhere all the time or potentially spill a fish.

I like to think that when Gardenview was active he had his own section of the facility that was a mini-aquarium! One of the parts of this was a pet-pool with starfish and horseshoe crabs, things like that. He also had a saltwater aquarium in his room that he personally took care of!

Every critter in the facility had a name (given by himself), and Finn helped the aquarium-keepers care for them where they'd let him. He knew every individual critter well enough to know each of their personalities!

When Finn and the others woke up in an empty-shut-down Gardenview, all of the tanks were empty, and he's pretty heartbroken over this. That's why Barnaby is so important to him, the fish is a comfort-object for him since all his real fish are gone.

My take on Twisteds is that they're not the actual Toons, but instead faulty, broken clones made by the device that repairs them. They do, however, actually contain slivers of each Toon's anima--that is, their mind/soul. The clones mostly have negative memories and emotions.

Twisted-Finn's body is so messed up because of this. While Finn's head is made of transparent glass, his body is made of opaque plexiglass plates covering his endoskeleton. And, well, glass can be broken and broken aquarium glass is not exactly good for the fish inside.

So broken tanks and polluted water feature in his form as a broken body and ichorous 'water' that gets everywhere and hurts whatever it touches.

Last little bit: Since every Toon was made with a specific purpose and base personality, they all have certain things they're near-compelled to do. Finn's fish puns is actually one of these things; it's less of an active decision and more of a verbal tic.

[staliaz]

Since when do you ship stalia?

I ship them ever since I watched the show back in 2017.

[f1fantasys]

It ends with, how quick can you get it up?

Summary - y/n and lando are exes who meet again, some angst, then a whole lot of smut. ITS FILTHY. MINORS DNI !!

Warnings - angst, swearing, smuttttt, fingering, oral m and f receiving, p in v sex, anal, squirting, blowjobs, pure filth. Magui lol - no hate to her at all. Her character is a negative character.

7.3k words

It was coming up to years since the day that you and Lando had broken up. You were together for almost two years prior - young and in love, naive. But then the realities of both your jobs jumped right in front of you, and you mutually decided to breakup, it being too much to handle.

The breakup wasn't messy. You were both understanding of each other, and you'd decided to remain friends - though you could count the number of interactions you'd had since on one hand. That was the whole point of separating - not enough time to each other.

As hard and weird as it was to admit, the it affected you more than you let on, to anybody. You absolutely adored Lando. Yes you were young, but he'd stolen your heart the second you two met for the first time. You loved him with everything you had in you, and even know going you own ways hurt in the worst ways possible, you knew it was for the best.

During these two years, you struggled everyday, and had to build yourself up each day from what it seems. You still held onto a thread of love for the boy - you don't think you'd ever stop, and so whenever you saw a new picture of him on socials, or when you knew you were to be at the same event, you stayed as far away as possible, because you knew seeing him in person again would crumble all the walls you've built so hard to put up.

Neither of you had deleted pictures together on Instagram, and you still often wore things and precious gifts that Lando had showered you with - he had done the same. The one thing that always made your heart tingle was a certain silver bracelet. It was a gift you had given him after his first podium in F1, and he'd always say it was his favourite because it was a memory of the two things he loved the most - racing, and you.

Of course, you'd tried to move on, meet new people, but you only ever got as far as an hour into a date until you started comparing a guy to Lando. Although they'd be decent looking with a good body, you'd notice how none were close as to how devilishly handsome Lando was, how no one's body could be compared to his slim but stern and toned abs, no one's hair would curl in all the right places, and how no one would give you the smile that melted your heart.

You always told yourself that Lando was the man who was made for you. Everything about him was absolutely perfect. But, it wasn't to be, and that was something you had to keep reminding yourself.

Recently, Lando had been spotted a few times with an actress, Magui. You had known her through your modeling connections. From the time you knew her and had interacted with her on a few occasions, quite a few years ago, you knew she wasn't someone who you could ever be friends with. There was always something about her that made you hold a step back, no disrespect to her.

It was a surprise that Lando chose to be with someone like her - not that you were judging - but you just thought he could do better. But whatever - it was his life and as long as he's happy, that's all that mattered to you, even though a piece of your heart broke everytime you saw them together.

Last week, your agency had told you that you were to attend an event at the Singapore Grand Prix. This wasn't the first time since the break up that you'd be attending a race, but what hitched your breath was when you found out this morning that it was a McLaren event, where the full team would be present.

As much as your heart wanted to, you weren't sure if you were ready to meet Lando. Yes, it had been a long while, but again, you were scared of crumbling down.

But you had to be strong, because you were currently in the elevator to the top floor of the building for the event. Of course, you made sure you looked like a million bucks - not skimpy like a certain someone.

When the door opened, you held your breath and walked through, face lightening up when you immediately spotted a friend of yours that worked at a different agency.

''Y/N'' Lissie squealed, just as excited to see you.

''Fuck I'm so happy you're here'' you said as she hugged you tightly, knowing exactly why you appreciated seeing her here.

She pulled back. ''Think you'll be ok?'' she asked.

''Yeah'' you said, taking a breath, has to happen sooner or later.

The night was actually going well, until the presentation started and you saw none other than Lando walk on the stage, making his presence known for the evening.

You swore you stopped breathing for a second. Here he was, in the flesh, and even though you'd seen countless pictures of him since the last time you were together, he looked ten million times better, devilishly handsome.

The lights shining on his face showed off the perfect contour of his jaw, nose, lips, the way his eyes glistened beautifully, and don't even get me started on his hair. It was overgrown but his curls sat so effortlessly gorgeously on his head. You really couldn't tear your gaze away from him.

And as if not breathing properly wasn't enough, your legs turned jelly when his eyes found yours, staring into your soul, face shocked though a smile spread over it quickly when his brain caught up with who he was looking at. You smile back gently, when you heard the elevator ding from where you were standing, you watched how Lando's eyes left yours and instinctively looked over your shoulder, his smile widening even more so like a small boy seeing candy. You quickly looked back and felt a knot in your stomach.

It was her. She looked beautiful no doubt. Long curled hair, perfect taunt body. You felt Lissie grab your hand and squeeze it.

For some reason, the thought of her being here tonight hadn't crossed your mind.

You don't why the hell you did what you did next, but your eyes drifted over to Lando again, and it almost felt as if your heart broke into a million pieces when he winked at at her - it was something he'd always do to you in a crowd full of people, his way of telling you he loved you.

As the presentation went on, you tried your best to keep your mind and eyes from drifting to him, though when it was his turn to talk you allowed yourself to take him in for a few minutes. Your mind started drifting away to the days you'd wake up snuggled up in bed together, share looking looks, before Lando would ruin you by fucking you senseless.

''Shit'' you thought, that was the last thing that should be on your mind. You needed to focus on something else, but not surprisingly, you struggled to do so.

Once all the formalities were done, the evening went on with lots of food and drinks, dancing, catching up with people. There were a number of people you knew, which was good, and Lissie was stuck to your side through it all.

While you were at the bar waiting for another drink, your body shivered as you felt a presence next to yours.

Magui. ''Hey'' she greeted, leaning in to kiss your cheeks. You reciprocated the gesture.

She knew your history with Lando, hell the two of you were dating when you used to have to work with her before, so to say this was awkward would be an understatement.

''Hey, been a long time'' you pressed, hoping she would just leave already.

''Yeah it has. Works been busy, plus following Lando to a lot of races as well'' she said.

You tried to keep a neutral face, internally screaming for Lissie to come rescue you.

You chatted about random things, until she dropped the elephant in the room.

''So this must be weird, being here, seeing me and Lando together.''

''Uh, I mean, maybe a little, but we've all moved on with our lives. Each to their own'' you said, not believing yourself one bit.

''But still. I mean, do your feelings for someone so handsome just go away?'' she asked.

This time you had to keep a scoff in. Yes, Lando was a handsome man, but that's not all he was. He was passionate, clever, kind, caring, honest, intelligent, selfless, every single good wood in the dictionary. His looks did not define him. And even though you aren't together now, what you had with each other was real. Your love was real. And no one could take that away from you.

''I,-'' you started, but of course you had to get interrupted by the man himself.

''Y/n!'' he called your name out, came jogging over from where he was.

You held a breath as he hugged you, and it took everything in you not to keep him tucked in your arms.

''Lan Lando, hi'' you smiled gently.

''How are you? It's been forever'' he said.

You didn't miss the way Magui's arms slid around his waist as she kissed his cheek. He placed his hands above hers.

You cleared your throat. ''Yeah, um, I'm really good, keeping busy'' you cooed. ''How are you? Congratulations on your first win, by the way, you earned it'' you said.

His first win made you both cry with joy and sadness. When you were together, his first goal was always to get that win under his belt. It's what he worked tirelessly for day in and day out, and ultimately, towards the end of your relationship, it almost seemed that the only way he could do that would be to have zero distractions. At the time, and even now, you never took that as a reason for your break up or a reason to hate him for it. It was what was best back then, and you couldn't go back now. So as happy as you were for him, a part of you was sad that it was something that couldn't be celebrated by you at his side. It was her.

''Thank you, yeah, finally got that done. Next up, championship, hopefully'' he said, smiling year to ear.

The conversation went on for a few more minutes, but you decided you needed to get away from it. Magui was giving you eyes. Eyes that warned you, eyes that basically said back the fuck up, even though it was Lando who was making most of the conversation.

You excused yourself and made your way to the bathroom after failing to find Lissie in the crowd.

You fanned your face and tried to control your breathing to stop the tears that were threatening to spill down your face, as the door opened.

She walked in.

''What the fuck are you playing at?'' she all but shouted at you.

''What?'' you asked in disbelief.

''Seriously, stay the fuck away from him'' he spat before walking out the door.

You were shocked, where was this coming from? You had an innocent conversation with your ex boyfriend and his new girlfriend. What's more to it?

You went back out and found Lissie, told her everything that happened. She had been no where to be found as she was pulled to go do a few photos for her page, but now she was fuming with how it all played out.

You decided to block all of that out of your mind and enjoy the rest of the night, It was all you could do, besides curl up and cry in a corner, and you really weren't in the mood for the latter.

At some point, a few of the crowd had wanted to carry on the party at a nearby club, and so you found yourself at the back of a taxi, waiting for Lissie to come in, and until it was Lando who had taken a seat next to you, beaming at you.

Your breath halted as he closed the door and told the driver the address of the club. (Obviously it was a race weekend, so he wouldn't be drinking, but had to make an appearance)

You were glad it was dark out so Lando hopefully wouldn't be able to see the flush on your cheeks. But fuck, where was his girlfriend in all of this. Did she know he was here with you right now?

''I-'' you started though he cut you off.

''It's actually so good to see you y/n'' he said, softly.

''You too Lando'' you replied, not sure where this conversation was going.

''Even though we left each other as friends, i feel like i have to tell you...'' he started.

You just listened and waiting, not sure what to say back.

''What we had was good, so good. So real... Some of my best moments in life were the ones spent with you'' he almost whispered. ''I wish we could get those days back. Just be together, never have broken up, but just lived on with each other, loved each other forever..''

You let out a breath, more tears threatening to spill out your eyes.

''Lando..fuck. You know i feel the same way. But i don't think it's fair firstly to Magui, that we're talking about...us, like this, and secondly it's not fair to me. Because I've been trying to move on every fucking day since, and hearing you say that breaks down all the words I've built up.

''I just feel like there was too much left undone'' he said softly.

''Lando, stop. I..Where-where's Magui? Why are you here saying all to this to me right now?'' you asked.

''She got pissed that I came to talk to you. Went back to the hotel.''

''So go back to her then.''

Now he took a breath.

''Fuck..we're not even together. We're just hooking up. I mean, she's great, but i just don't see myself with someone like her, y'know?''

You kept quiet for a bit.

''Well that's not what she makes it seem to be. She fucking told me to stay away from you not even an hour ago'' you said, sounding angrier than you intended to.

''What?'' he questioned.

''Yeah'' you said softly. ''Honestly? with the way your fans are treating her, and all that she's said to me tonight, this is something i can't get involved with. She's toxic, and with where i am in my career, i can't be having her drama follow me'' you said.

Suddenly Lando's whole demeanor changed. He was agitated, fuming, metaphoric steam blowing out of his ears.''

He chucked, to himself then looked you. ''It's always gotta be about the other woman, right? Forget everything good we had, blame it on the other woman.''

''Lando what? What are you even talking about? I'm not blaming her for anything, just saying I don't want to be associated with her. And I'm sorry if i do become, I'm not willing to jeopardize myself to look like the bad one.'' you said.

''Honesty? fuck off'' he spat.

The rest of the ride was silent, you tried and failed to keep your tears at bay, and when you finally got to the club, Lando got up and slammed the door with such force it had you jolting in your seat.

You took a minute to compose yourself before telling the uber driver to take you back to your hotel. Your tears were flowing freely, uncontrollably.

The man you loved basically said he wanted to get back with you, and you shut him off because of the woman he's just fucking. And now he was done with you. Fucking fantastic.

Needless to say, you cried yourself to sleep that night. Seeing Lando, thinking back on memories you hadn't allowed yourself to for so long, having her there, Lando telling you things you'd wanted to hear forever though it wasn't so simple to live through them, and eventually ending with Lando basically telling you to fuck off. You were broke, all over again.

You were to attend the race as well, and you did, because you were cooped up in the Ferrari hospitality all day. Your heart clenched when Lando won the race. He deserved it, no doubt. But everything still hurt. Once again, it wasn't you he'd be celebrating with. And whatever good thing about your relationship ended a few nights ago.

Lissie had dragged you to a club to just let loose and forget about all your problems - something you'd kill for right now.

It was nice to have a night out with the other wags and people you knew, though your mind kept drifting back to Lando. He still had a hold on you, and no matter how much you tried to forget him, you just couldn't.

Him being less than 20 meters away from you wasn't helping either. You'd just seen him walk in, with Magui on his arm. The both of them joined at the hip.

He hadn't noticed you yet, though she did. She smirked, and quickly pulled Lando's face in for a heated kiss. You forced yourself to look away, and walked in the other direction.

Much to your mismay, you found yourself within your friends group, and now Lando and Magui included. They were sat directly opposite you. You seriously wanted the ground to swallow you up, rather be anywhere else but here.

It was awkward, sure, because only you, Lando and Lissie knew what went on the other night - unless he told anyone else.

Everyone was chattering and drinking, laughing and dancing, and for the first time tonight, Lando glanced your way.

You breath - hitching as it always does when he looks at you, caught in your throat as you took a sip of your drink, keeping your eyes trained on his, which were lingering at you still.

He was throwing daggers at you, and when Magui jolted him out of his trance, he immediately pulled her closer, practically on to his lap as he started nuzzling her neck.

You quickly busied yourself, trying to make conversation with Charles and Alex though your eyes kept involuntarily wandering back to Lando.

Now he was full on making out with her, tongue and all, as his hands groped at her ass.

Deciding you needed some air, you went to the bar to get another drink, and while waiting, as if the universe was playing tricks on you, the pair of them, landed beside you, Lando's back to you.

Although the club was loud, you could still just about make out what Lando was saying to her.

He was whisper-shouting dirty words into her ear. Telling her how plans to ruin her later. Fuck her into oblivion, kiss every inch of her body, devour her pussy, and salivate over her delicious juices. The most delicious he's ever had.

Forget the universe. It was Lando. Lando himself who was playing you dirty.

When you were together, dirty talk was one thing that you absolutely loved during sex. Lando knew how to do it well, and he'd fuck you for hours while whispering filthy words into your eyes, making you cum again and again until you had none left in you.

You knew he was playing you - trying to get a reaction from you. From what he old you the other night about whatever he had going on her Magui, you knew he would never have shown her a second glance or said things like this. It was all just a act to rile you up.

She, though, was loving it. Giggling in his neck as he showered her with kisses all over, hands roaming each others day, and you wouldn't be surprised if she was putting on her own show - to make it clear to you ''into her'' Lando was.

You grabbed your drink, downed it, as you clenched your thighs together, trying your hardest not to let Lando's words affect you as he knew they would, because what the fuck - you wouldn't stoop so low hearing him say those things to someone else, would you?

A short while later, needing some proper air this time, you made your way outside, using the excuse of needling a cig break to the others.

As soon as you walked out the door, you let out a big breath you didn't realize you holding on to. It felt like a weight lifted over your shoulders, though that chest-tightening feeling returned straight away when you saw Lando walk out behind you and follow you to a secluded area.

''Lan-'' you started but he cut you off, his eyes piercing through yours with something you weren't sure you'd ever seen from him. A mixture of longing yet laced with anger of some sort.

''Out celebrating my win, yeah?'' he said, cockiness oozing out of him.

You scoffed. ''Huh, what are you doing out here? Thought you'd be rushing out to get back to your hotel? Something about fucking your girl and all'' you said, gaining confidence from the few drinks you had.

''Y/n'' he warned, stepping into your space and bring his hand up to cover your mouth.

His touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, like suddenly you were alive again.

''Shh'' he whispered softly. ''Only one person who gets to call themselves 'my girl,' and it ain't her.

Your heart was beating out of your chest. You wanted to be mad at Lando, forget him and move on, but how can you do so when he was looking at you like this, talking to you like this?

''I-'' he cut you off again.

''Don't need to say anything right now, baby, but let's get out of here?'' he said, voice low and hoarse. The nickname sending shivers down your spine.

You bit your lip, not knowing what to do. Your heart was telling you to go with him, though your head was screaming at you not to.

But all thoughts and hesitations were lost when Lando leaned down and kissed your cheek ever so gently, letting his head rest against it.

Instinctively, your hands reached up and cupped his face, pulling it back to look at him again.

''What about her? you asked.

''Already told her to fuck off, she was already throwing herself at someone else'' he said quickly.

''Lando''

''Fuck, please'' he said, licking his lips, while his hands were now wrapped around you and on the small of your back.

''Fuck'' you whispered, your mind racing more and more by the second the more you took into account what was really happening.

Lando so close you could feel his breath on your face, the smell of his musky and expensive cologne, the intensity of his crystal blue eyes staring right through you, his hold on you as if his life depended on it. Fuck, you were screwed.

''Baby'' he whispered, but this time you were quick to react.

You roughly pulled his face in, crashed your lips to his to which he responded immediately. It was rough, desperate, messy, but somewhere at the back of both your minds, there were fireworks going off.

Lando pulled you impossibly closer and his hands ran through your air, pulling at it from the ends as you both fought for dominance over the kiss, tongue battling each other until you gave in and let him slip his through. He explored your mouth like a starved man.

It may have been years since your last kiss, but right now, it felt like you were both home. It felt right, and with the way you knew each others triggers, it felt timeless.

You played with the hair on the back of his neck as his lips left yours, both desperate for air, sloppy smiles playing both your lips, until a voice broke you out of your trans.

''Are you fucking joking me? You're leaving me for this piece of shit?'' said the voice as you both looked to where it was coming from.

Magui.

Lando's hold on you tightened to a point where it was painful.

''Of fuck off'' he said. ''As if your tongue wasn't down that guys throat the minute i ended it with you, what not 10 minutes ago'' he spat.

''Don't turn the subject around. Seriously Lando, fucking going back to leftovers when you can have the finest ass in town?'' she pressed.

''Yeah actually, because the 'finest' ass in town already rotten though MY leftovers are as fresh as day 1'' he threw back.

Your heart clenched at that.

This time she didn't have any answer back, so she muttered something incoherent to herself and walked away.

''Don't listen to anything she said. Ignore her. I'm sorry for the way she spoke to you the other day as well. I'm sorry for how i fucking spoke to you. I was a dickhead and you deserved better'' he said softly, eyes begging for forgiveness.

You didn't say anything back. Instead you pecked his lips a couple of times before pulling him in for a simple hug, pouring all your love for him into it.

''Take me back to the hotel'' you whispered. ''Now.''

Lando smiled to himself, took your hand and called for the valet to bring his car.

The ride back was palpable with tension, no words spoken again, just cheeky glances at each other, eyes dark with lust, as Lando let his hand rest on your thigh, achingly close to where you craved him the most.

Your mind was racing, not paying attention to where he was driving, so when he stopped the car and parked at an area overlooking the sea you were quick to question him.

''Lan?''

He said nothing, but adjusted his seat back, manhandling you and pulling you onto his lap.

You straddled him, your dress already bunched up at your stomach as his hands roamed your body, eyes glued to yours.

''Need you now'' he said breathlessly before leaning up to lock lips again, biting down harshly on your lower lip causing you to whimper.

You started grinding down on him, feeling his cock grow through his jeans as he practically ripped your dress into two pieces, eyes growing big when he saw you weren't wearing a bra.

''Fucking hell. Can't say i haven't missed my babies'' he said, smirking as he rolled your left nipple between his thumb and index fingers, earning a series of dirty moans from you.

''Please, Lan'' you begged. Your cunt, still grinding down and creating a wet patch through your panties and on his jeans, was clenching achingly around nothing.

As he continued to toy with you nipple, his mouth found your other one, wasting no time in biting and sucking on it harshly, making you pull his hair tightly, still begging for more.

''Still taste so good'' he mumbled, snaking his hand down your toned body until he reached your core. He ran his fingers over your clothed pussy, smirking when he realized how wet you were.

''Don't flatter yourself'' you teased when you saw his smirk.

Lando raised his brows, ''didn't say anything babygirl'' before he pushed your lacy panties to the side and finally touched you, sliding his fingers through your juices and quickly finding your clit. He knew your body better than you did.

''Fuck Lando please'' you begged again, the feeling of him on your clit having you more desperate than before.

''Patience love'' he whispered, holding your hips still to stop your movements.

His fingers suddenly pulled away from your cunt, you were about to protest when you saw what he was doing - licking them clean on your juices, before he bought them up to your own lips to take in.

''My favourite fucking taste'' he murmured and you moaned around him.

Finally though, he returned them down there and settled at your entrance His eyes gave you a questioning look and you eagerly nodded, before he thrust two fingers in at once, curling them straight away having you a shuddering mess in his arms.

You bit down on your lip, letting a few guttural moans escape you as Lando sped up his movements of thrusting in and out of you.

''Yes, fuck, so fucking good'' you said through bated breaths, while Lando started edging you on with his own words.

''Baby you're so fucking tight, how the hell are you gonna take my cock, huh? You think you can take it? Being so fuckin tight'' he threw at you.

''Fuck, yes, please'' you said, quickly feeling the warmth start to build up in your stomach.

''Lan I'm close,'' you warned, and this time he added a third finger while his thumb toyed with your clit, causing your orgasm to rip through your body as you came violently all over his fingers.

''Oh my, fuck'' you said, eyes squeezed shut as Lando didn't slow his movements. Instead he added a whole fourth finger, you heard him say something about ''needing to stretch you out before you were ready for his cock''

Within minutes you came again, your warm juices gushing out, making a mess of everything. Again, you were blanked out, just about hearing what Lando was saying again. Something like ''''you're so fucking good for me darling, such a good brat'' until he finally pulled his fingers out, and once again licked them clean as you sat there, eyes hooded, sweat shining on both your faces, and a shy smile on your face, chest heaving.

''Lan'' you said, pecking random parts of his pace.

''Think you're ready for me y/n? Wanna ride me? Then let me take you back to the hotel and take you from behind, yeah?''

His words had you dripping with want, needling more from him. When you dated before, you were young, but your sex life was amazing. You wondered though how it would feel now. Would it feel more fulfilling? Even better than before? You certainly couldn't wait to find out.

You bit your lip as you gently lifted yourself off Lando's lap, just enough o let him unzip and unbutton his jeans, pulling them down, together with his boxers.

You won't lie, seeing his thick girth spring out and stall tall before you had your mouth watering.

''Like what you see?'' he asked, a smirk on his face.

''Fuck off'' you threw.

''I'd rather you fuck me''

'''Gladly'' you said, before taking your place again, cupping him and pumping him a few times. You were internally thanking him for ''stretching'' you out because he was bigger than average, and you weren't sure how he'd have fitted easily.

Lando reached to his pocket and pulled out a condom, ripping the packet open with his teeth as he was about to roll it on though you stopped him.

''Lan we're not 20 anymore, I'm still non birth control, but fuck, i need to feel all of you. Please'' you begged.

His eyes turned even darker, breath hitching as he listened to your words before you grabbed the condom from him and threw it somewhere in the car, then palmed him again.

You slid his dick through your folds, which were clenching uncontrollably as Lando leaned back and shut his eyes, taking in the feeling of having your hands on the place he's dreamed about for almost two years.

''Fuck baby please'' he begged now, impatient to slide into you.

You mimicked his words from earlier. ''Patience baby'' you said, though you were just as desperate as he was.

Lando was not having it today, instead he roughly took a hold of his dick, and pushed you down onto him by your waist.

You gasped at the intrusion, mind foggy at how incredible it felt, but at the same time there was always the unavoidable sting because of just how much Lando stretched you out.

He bottomed out straight away, hips joined together, as you sat still on him, both your faces contorted with pleasure as you allowed your body a few minutes to respond.

After a few seconds though, your braced your hands on Lando's shoulders and began to move, up and down, up and down, riding his pole like your life depended on it.

''Fuck baby, that's it, so fuckin tight around my dick and taking me so well'' Lando cooed as he felt your walls clench around him, making his dick twitch uncontrollably through your movements.

''Fuck Lan, missed this, feels so good, fuck'' you said between breaths.

Both your moans were lewd, filthy, and anyone walking by your car would be able to hear how you were ruining each other, fucking each other hard and fast, rough,but you didn't care. You wanted the whole world to know. You wanted her to know.

''Lan I'm gonna come'' you said, feeling your orgasm approach, not holding back.

''Let it out, fuck y/n, cum all over me, then later cum again when i push my dick through your asshole'' he threw, his words instantly sending you over the edge, releasing your sap all over him.

''Oh my god, yes, uh, i can't you panted, body like jelly in his arms as Lando had to hold you upright, and now fuck himself into you to chase his own high.

You slumped forward on him as he placed his head over your shoulder, bouncing your body up and down his pole until suddenly he was ready for his own release.

''Uhhh, gonna cum y/n, where?'' he asked.

''In me! Please'' you all but shouted, needing distressingly needing to fell his cum inside of you.

Your words sent him into overdrive, and before he knew it, Lando was spraying your insides white with his warm cum, letting out a series of swear words through your ears as he held onto you tightly, spit flying out of his mouth.

''Feels so good'' you whispered, leaning back and cupping his face that was dripping with sweat, cheeks flushed.

Both your movements slowed, riding each other through the high as eventually it halted and you just sat there, Lando softening inside you.

He gave you a sheepish smile, chest heaving, before kissing you gently.

''How are you this fucking amazing?'' he asked. ''you were incredible back then, but now, fuck me, how did i survive this long with you?''

You bit your lip, ''feeling's mutual.''

''Back to the hotel? Let me ruin you again?'' asked, excitement in his voice.

'''Please'' you said, climbing off his dick and settling into your seat again.

Before he could zip himself up again, you leaned over the console and deep-throated him, having Lando jolt in his seat at the contact.

''Fucking hell'' he said as you pulled back, cum and spit running down your chin.

''Wanted to taste...us'' you said, watching the darkness in his eyes return.

The drive back was quick, desperate, his hands wrapped around the steering wheel painfully tight.

You had to wear his jacket, which luckily was oversized and big for you, for the walk up to his room, since he'd torn your dress.

As soon as the door was closed he pounced on you, shoving the jacket off leaving you standing bare in front of him.

Lando was about to kiss you before you pulled back and pouted.

''You're still wearing too many clothes'' you whined.

He chuckled, couldn't hold back his smile as he shed everything over, leaving himself bare you are were.

''Hmm better'' you said as your eyes shamelessly roamed his body, stopping at his dick which was twitching and growing harder by the second.

He cleared his throat. ''Permission to touch?'' he asked, already having cupped your face.

''Always'' you said, before he left your face and ran his hands down to pick you up, hauling you over his shoulder and giving your ass a few smacks.

He threw you on the bed before throwing himself on you, kissing you with an urgency, groping your body while his hands found your cunt, waltzing through your folds.

''Please fuck me?'' you asked innocently.

He smirked. ''Gonna destroy you'' he said lowly, leaning up and wrapping your legs tight around his hips before he pumped himself a few times, already hard as rock.

He lined himself up and pushed in gently, setting a slow, painfully slow pace as you whined and wriggled your body, begging for more.

''Noo Lan please, faster'' you pressed.

But he ignored you, instead bringing his mouth up to your boobs, ravishing them violently as he continued to thrust slowly in and out of you.

You were impatient though, and so you roughly grabbed his face and pulled it away from your boobs.

''Lando, fuck me now, or-'' you started sternly though he cut you off.

''Or?'' he asked teasingly, eyebrows raised.

You blushed, not having an answer. ''Or no sex for two weeks'' you threw.

''Hmm, survived two years, think I'll manage two weeks'' he said softly.

You eyes grew wild with shock. ''Of fuck off'' you said, thinking of what else to come up with but your brain short circuited when suddenly his pace was faster, rougher, harder, fucking his dick deep within you.

You shut your eyes, nails digging into his biceps and surely leaving bruises for tomorrow when you could practically hear him smirking at you.

''You fucking asked for it baby, don't take back your words now'' he said.

You got a burst of energy at his words, your eyes flying open.

''Not complaining, am i?'' you said, sending your own smirk his way.

''Fucking brat'' he mumbled, reaching his thumb down to your clit, pinching at it dramatically which within seconds had your body shaking underneath him, your cum coating him and leaking out of you with each thrust as your mind was blank again, no energy to say anything, just broken breaths as you bit down on his shoulder.

He slowed for a moment, before pulling out. ''Let me do you from the back? he asked.

''Uh huh'' you responded, though your body was jelly so he basically had to pick you up and manhandle you again until you were on your tummy, ass up in the air.

Lando coated two of his fingers in his spit before circling your rim, teasing you with a thrust but not in enough.

''Lando, now'' you threw at him, causing him to giggle.

''Okay baby, no more teasing'' he said, letting his two fingers enter your ass.

You held your breath, bit your lips together as he gave you a few licks as well.

''Gonna take me so well, my love, yeah?'' he asked.

''Yes, please, hurry'' you said, your body responding as if you haven't had multiple orgasms already.

Finally Lando coated his dick with his spit again, before pushing into you, both your moans obscene at the feeling.

He braced his hands on your hips as you held onto the headboard, his pace quickening quickly as he slammed himself in and out of you.

''Fuck, so good, look at you, such a whore for me, my own dirty slut, that's it baby, doing so fucken well for me'' he said between moans through gritted teeth.

''Lando, huh, gonna cum'' you said in a daze, letting him take full control of your body.

''Go on baby'' he pressed, and before he could even finish his sentence your orgasm rippled through you, shaking your body literally uncontrollably with the stimulation.

He slowed his movements, knowing how exhausted you were, though he didn't stop. He was just gentle now, letting you catch your breath as you body calmed down.

Lando pulled out and flipped you over again gently this time, kissing you long and slow as your wrapped your arms around him.

''Think you have one more in you baby?'' he asked. ''For me?''

Who were you to say no? You gently opened your tear-stained eyes and nodded, wrapping your legs around his waist again.

''You've done so well for me today, fuck'' he said, lining up against your cunt again, sliding in once again.

''Hmm, Lan, too much'' you cooed.

''I know love, almost there, you can do it'' he encouraged you.

By now, your brain was blacked out, you were saying things without thinking through, and your next words shook Lando to his core.

''Í love you Lando, missed you so fucking much. Baby, please, please, i fucking beg you, fuck a baby into me''

Lando had no words, no actions as to how to respond to you. He wasn't even fucking into you at a quick pace right now, but his dick thought faster than his brain, and in seconds he was cumming deep within you again, filling you up to the brink as his cock twitched painfully so inside of you.

''Lan?'' you questioned when he stayed silent - apart from his pornographic moans and pants.

''I love you too, so much, and fuck, i want a baby, like right now with you. Fuck y/n, you're it for me'' he whispered, and eventually his brain caught up to what was happening. He also noticed that you hadn't cum the last time, so he quickly pulled out and placed his tongue on your cunt.

You grabbed onto his hair and pulled it, unable to keep your groans in, as he lapped and lapped at your folds, moaning himself when he tasted the mix of both your cum.

You looked down to see his face a mess. Spit, cum, sweat, everything just sticky and dripping. Just the one look at him sent you spiraling over the edge, erratic noises leaving your mouth, though this time you didn't just cum, you squirted all over his face and hair, hands flying to cover your mouth in shock, though all Lando did was smirk and lick everything up, swallow as much as he could.

Eventually he pulled back and leaned down to your lips, letting all the juices drip down from his mouth and into yours.

You seriously didn't know how you were wake right now, but having Lando close like this had given you enough to carry on.

''That was so fucking hot, fuck y/n'' he whispered, leaving wet kisses all over your face.

All you did was hide your face in his chest and hold him tight, get both of your breaths back to a decent rate again, bask in what had just happened.

A short while later, as much as you both just wanted to doze off, your bodies were too slick and sticky to be comfortable.

With not enough energy to shower, Lando got up and gently cleaned you both up with a warm towel, before he jumped into bed beside you sleep-clad body, pulling you to his side.

You were half asleep, though awake enough to say something.

''I love you Lando, please don't leave.''

He kissed your forehead. ''Trust me baby, I'm stuck to you forever. And I'm so fucking sorry for the other night. I love you so much. So so much.''

''Nah, forget that. Just happy to be together now. I'm home'' you said, smiling in your daze.

Suddenly, something piped up and you shot out his arms.

''Lan!''

''Baby what, are you ok?'' he said, shocked at your burst of energy.

You giggled.

He shot his eyebrows and hands up.

''We did...a lot of things tonight..'' you started.

''Yeahh, and? he asked.

''I didn't get to blow you'' you pouted.

''Fuck'' he mumbled, and you didn't miss the way he palmed himself.

You wiggled your eyebrows.

''How quick can you get it up?'' you asked as he pulled you onto his lap.

''You're gonna fucking end me'' he whispered.

But finally, it was you and Lando. Together. Forever.

A.N - i think this is my longest fic. Wasn't sure if I liked where it was going, but pretty happy with how it turned out. The smut is probably my favorite that I've written, so please enjoy and let me know what you think in the comments. Also - absolutely no hate to Magui.

[the-somwthing]

oh god I reached tag limit. Dear god. Should I make my own post or are my takes in the tags god awful and I should’ve kept them to myself 😭

(also I mistakenly said clethubs instead of cledubs cuz it flows better, ignore me Etho has nothing to do with any of this)

ok now that im watching scotts pov i can finally make the poll i want

[fairlyang]

Sharing ⚔️🐺

w/c: 2.4K

pairing: logan howlett x wade wilson x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. mmf threesome, pure filth, jealousy, cunnilingus, blowjob, fingering, throating fucking, wade being wade, finger sucking, logan fucks you, unprotected sex (don’t do this!), creampie, cum slurping (??)

a/n: this is my first fic for both characters! watched all the x-men bc of my second rewatch of dp&w and i’m in love w that old man. also this took me a week to write 🧍‍♀️

you didn’t know how but you somehow were able to get both wade and logan into bed with you.

a dream come true but the downside was the fact they were both acting all territorial and not at all wanting to pull away from you.

when you first started they both wanted to make out with you and you had to switch off quickly before the bickering began. though having them each suck one breast was enough for a short while. 

but now logan was devouring your pussy like the starved man he was and although wade let him have a turn first, he grew impatient fast. very fast.

unfortunately his unmedicated adhd was of no help to him and if anything just made things even worse for him.

now he didn't believe in the saying "save the best for last" because he was aching to taste you. he was so fucking hard, he swore it was more painful than having blue balls. 

finally, after enjoying the show for a solid three minutes, he groaned and shook logan's shoulder to get his attention. "don't be so fucking stingy old man, give me a turn." wade complained and groaned some more.

logan ignored him and kept his eyes on you, sucking on your clit while he teased your entrance with the tip of his finger making you whine. he moaned against you sending shivers all throughout your body meanwhile wade was all pouts and damn near stomping his feet. 

logan continued ignoring him because if he was one thing, it was stubborn. 

on the other hand, wade was relentless and wasn’t going to give up so easily, and luckily he knew how to push logan’s buttons. 

“come on grandpa, I know you’ll get tired soon enough anyway, just tap out.” wade pestered, earning himself a low growl from the older man.

you could only giggle at wade’s reaction, finding his eagerness to be cute and in a way, needy.

logan on the other hand rolled his eyes and wanted to stab him with his claws somewhere it’d take a while to regenerate just to have more time with his head buried between your thighs, but he opted against it. he didn’t want to ruin your bed with his blood. 

"you both said you'd be fine with sharing.." you say and point a finger at them both.

logan looked up at you and you gave him a look, earning yourself an eye roll. he pulled away and groaned, wiping your arousal from his face with the back of his hand before he stands up so wade could take his rightful seat between your legs. "better do it right, bub." 

"you bet your ass i'm gonna do it right, just look at this beauty." he says and lets out a little whistle before admiring how you were glistening already.

all wet and ready for him.

"yeah you're gonna have to surgically remove me from this perfect fucking pussy." he murmurs then dives right in while logan comes up at you and curses at him.

you playfully rolled your eyes at him and put your hand on his cheek before pulling him in for a kiss. he immediately kissed back and didn't waste a singular second to slide his tongue into your mouth. 

that’s when wade decided to pull your legs up and keep them steady while he lapped at your folds, making you moan in logan’s mouth. he groaned back and let his hands wander over your body, squeezing your tits, hips, everything he could get his hands on. 

your hands traced along his pecs, collarbones, then slowly going down as he deepens the kiss — electricity surging through your body, and the overall feeling of warmness radiating off each other was palpable. 

you pull away from him so you can see his belt so you can quickly take it off. he took his shirt off while you took the belt off and unbottoned his pants. he sat up and you tried to take his pants off with haste but it seemed wade also wanted your attention on him as he slipped a finger inside you making you gasp. 

logan rolled his eyes, letting out a growl as he took his own pants off and throwing them on the floor. he sat up, knees on the bed and spread wide as he grabbed your attention by clicking his tongue, “focus over here, princess.” 

it easily got your attention, like a moth to a flame. too easy. 

you leaned up and started stroking him through his boxers, he closed his eyes and moaned. you smiled and with one quick movement slid his boxers down making his cock spring up and hit his stomach. 

you looked at it speechless and nearly drooling. it was the perfect amount of thick and long, precum leaking down the tip and a solid vein on the side. you tried to sit up a bit but wade’s grip on your legs wasn’t budging so you just began to stroke him. 

he leaned down a bit — his eyes back on you — and it was just enough to kiss his tip so you did before tasting the precum and licking it from your lips making him groan. the sight was as good as he imagined it, hell even fucking better. 

"fuck-" he moaned and put a hand on your head, urging you to do something.

wade looks up at you then at logan with his eyes rolled to the back of his head and you're just giving him kitten licks. he pulls away from your clit to let out a chuckle then speaks directly at you as he slowly fingers you, "don't tease the old man, baby. we gotta respect our elders."

you looked down at him then nodded — turning your attention back to logan's cock. wade's grip loosened just a tad bit so you could move your body up to try to take his cock in your mouth. you opened wide and slap it on your tongue, not being able to help the urge to tease him anyway.

logan grunted and thrusted his hips forward, "come on bub i'm dying over here." he groaned making you chuckle.

"patience is a virtue." you tease, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

he groans and shakes his head before holding your head still and makes you take the tip inside your mouth. you moan against him and immediately take more of him in your mouth while stroking his shaft. "you know that's not my strong suit, bub."

“and never will be peanut.” wade snickers and slips a second finger inside you. 

you moan against logan’s cock and slowly bob your head back and forth while wade tries to match your pace. you quickly notice what he’s trying to do and try to fit more of logan in your mouth but he was just so thick. 

he slowly began to thrust his hips forward, making you take it so you just relaxed and let him. you breathed through your nose and brought a hand down to hold one of wade’s. he grabbed it softly and gave it a squeeze while he continued fucking you, a bit faster now. 

you reached your other hand up to logan and he grabbed it, rubbing his thumb against your skin while your name slipped out of his lips like a prayer, because he just can’t help it.

your mouth felt so good, so heavenly. he knew this should’ve been done sooner but better late than never.

you closed your eyes and slowly laid your head down on the mattress so he could do the work, you turned your head more to the side and he started going faster. meanwhile wade added a third finger and was matching logan’s pace while he looked at the view with pure lust in his eyes. 

“doing so good pumpkin, treating our old man how he deserves huh?” wade purrs making you clench against his fingers. 

wade went back to your clit and started sucking then alternating to flicking it with his tongue. you were letting out muffled moans but they were just overpowered by logan’s. he looked down at you and moaned, “atta girl, just like that baby. takin’ it so good.” 

“put that mouth to good use peanut, she’s been so sassy with us recently.” wade chimes in making logan chuckle. 

“she has, hasn’t she?” he groans and slows down but starts going deeper. 

wade matches that as well and that’s when he takes full notice on how your juices were dripping down his fingers, “jesus it’s like niagara falls down here except i could drink this up for the rest of my life.” 

logan smirks and finally stops, sliding himself off so you can breathe. you take a deep a breath and wade slips his fingers out of you as well making you whine. he gasps and points a finger at logan, “what kind of sorcery is this?!?!!”

“i want a taste.” he mutters and wade sticks his fingers out earning himself a loud growl. 

you roll your eyes and sit up, reaching for his arm before opening your mouth and taking all his fingers in your mouth — tasting yourself while you made eye contact with him. 

after tasting all your juices, you pull his hand away with a plop then turn to logan and grab his arm to pull him down before pulling him in for a kiss. you stuck your tongue inside his mouth and before you knew it he started kissing back, able to taste how sweet you are. 

you pulled away and laid back down, looking at them both before they exchanged looks, “move over wilson, it’s my turn.” he responds and climbs off the bed. 

wade climbs on top of the bed and takes logan’s previous position because he did say he would try his best to share. he never liked sharing any of his toys but with you, it might be different. 

unfortunately logan was a fucking liar, and as much as he loved tasting you, he needed to be inside you even more. 

he spread your legs and positioned himself to your entrance, teasing you with just the tip while you licked wade’s wet tip. “thanks for warming her up for me, bub.” he says, giving wade a sly wink then sliding inside you with ease. 

your walls clamped against him, and you couldn’t help the whimpers that came out. he made himself fit and just slid all the way in, to take in how you feel. 

you were so tight, squeezing him to absolute perfection he could’ve sworn he was seeing stars. 

you were about to take wade into your head when he shook his head and grabbed your hand, bringing it to his cock, “your mouth can take a small break, cupcake.” 

you grinned up at him and began to stroke him, he was also thick like logan. now you were just confused how the hell you didn’t think of doing this sooner. 

logan was now slowly starting to fuck into you, just wanting to be as deep as he can be because you just molded onto his cock like a missing puzzle piece. he held onto the back of your thighs and leaned down a little, thrusting back and forth while he held eye contact with you. 

you were already teary eyed, looking so fucked out, in bliss. your eyes were fluttering and you could’ve sworn you were dreaming. “how’s that cock feel baby?” wade asked and you just moaned. 

he grinned and just watched how you took logan, how your body was reacting to his and how he swore he could cum a whole ocean just from watching. 

logan began going faster, having a similar reaction to wade. you looked so fucking pretty taking him, and trying your best to stroke wade. so fucking perfect. 

“bet you’re close huh, gramps?” wade cuts his thoughts and he could only grunt. “can’t even blame you really… not at all actually. but we gotta make sure our girl finishes too.” he adds and that he could agree with. 

you bring your unoccupied hand down to start rubbing your clit and instantly feel that familiar feeling in your lower belly. “gonna cum for us, baby?” wade purrs and you just nod while letting out mixed moans with both of their names. 

“that’s my good girl.” logan murmurs, making you whimper. 

“our good girl.” wade corrects making logan chuckle. 

“our good girl.” logan grunts, earning himself some desperate little cries from you.

your legs began to shake and you continued stroking wade, going as fast as you could. within seconds you could feel him twitching and logan’s thrusts started to become sloppy. “please cum inside me.”  you murmur making both men groan. 

with one final thrust, logan released his load deep inside you, your orgasm hit you hard — making you a shaking mess and a mix of moans and cries leaving your lips. meanwhile wade was groaning and spilling his load all over you, some made it to your mouth and some even down to your belly. 

the room was filled with loud breaths and the strong smell of sex that just intoxicated logan’s nostrils. he caught his breath and looked down at you, eyes fluttering and a cute little smile on your face. 

he slowly brought your legs down, letting them rest on the soft mattress before slowly sliding out of you. you calmed your breathing down and let go of wade’s dick. when you felt logan’s dick slip out, you instantly felt his load come out and drip down to your asshole. 

as if a physical light bulb lit up above wade’s head, he quickly got off the bed, and went between your legs and not hesitating for one second to slurp up absolutely every drop of the mixed fluids. 

you and logan both looked at him with shocked looks on your faces, absolutely stunned. 

he didn’t pull away until you were absolutely clean and no remnants were to be seen. he finally looked up at you both and just shrugged, “when else would i get the chance?” 

“we could always do it again?” you offer and shrug, trying to be nonchalant as if your brain isn’t already filled with more ideas. 

“do i smell a part two?” wade asks, raising an eyebrow before getting up just to lay next to you while logan did the same. 

maybe sharing wouldn’t be the end of the world.

[runariya]

Crash Course in Love • 1

pairing: snowboard instructor!Jungkook x ex-gf!reader (feat. platonic OT6) genre: rom-com, Exes 2 Lovers, slow-burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: strong language, slow burn, angst, Namjoon's a snack, smoking, brief mentions of drugs, OC and JK are petty af, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 15.2k

a/n: Part 1 is finally here 🎉 This fic is going to be my comfort story. It's relaxed for me but also quite new in the way I'm telling it and the length. I hope you like it and enjoy it as much as I do writing it 💕

a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

masterlist • 02

You’ve never been much of a risk taker. That’s just not who you are. You've always believed in playing it safe, thinking it’s better to be cautious than to end up regretting a choice. But living that way has meant you’ve missed out on the grand adventures that others your age fondly reminisce about. In fact, this cautious attitude is exactly what ended your last relationship.

Jungkook, your ex, was the definition of a thrill-seeker, the kind of adventurer you read about in stories. He thrived on excitement, and in the beginning, he managed to pull you into his world, convincing you to join him on his smaller adventures. You’d go camping with him or ride along on his motorcycle. It wasn’t much, but for you, it felt like a lot. You were doing things you’d never willingly do on your own. For him, though, it wasn’t enough. And you knew that. So, rather than holding him back any more than you already had with your shy, introverted, no-risks-please kind of persona, you ended things.

Did you regret it? Both yes and no. Yes, because letting go of the love of your life hurt more than anything. And no, because you knew it meant Jungkook could finally live the way he always wanted, without restraint. Watching him happy, embracing life to its fullest, was what you wanted for him. But when he decided to travel the world right after the breakup—the thing you two had dreamed of doing together—it stung deeply.

Jungkook had always been the rational one, even if he was emotional at times. He understood why you made the decision you did, and though it hurt him as much as it did you, there was nothing more to say. When your words were final, that was it.

It didn’t help that you couldn’t stop yourself from checking in on him, stalking his social media to see him living his best life. Each post only made you feel worse, insecure about the choices you’d made. So, in a moment of frustration, you decided to turn things around. You would live on the edge, too. You’d make "risky" your new middle name.

You started small. Baby steps. You poured your glass of water right up to the brim, nearly overflowing, and then picked it up to drink, knowing full well there was a 99% chance you’d spill it. But you didn’t care. You lived dangerously now, and besides, hydration is key.

Next, you let your phone battery drop to 1%, watching the screen dim, your palms sweaty with the urge to just plug it in. But you resisted, holding out until it died completely. Of course, you rushed to charge it afterward, but you’d never admit that part.

Things escalated. You started crossing the street when the walk sign only had five seconds left, sprinting to the other side like a madwoman, just barely making it before the light changed.

But what really pushed you over the edge was seeing Jungkook’s latest post: him, laughing and carefree, with an unfamiliar woman by his side.

That’s when you signed up for skydiving, bungee jumping, and even got your motorcycle license. It was fun—really fun. But doing it all alone felt hollow. Without someone to share those experiences with, the thrill didn’t last long.

As winter approached, you found yourself at your cousin Yoongi’s apartment, practically begging him to join you on your latest venture—a two-week stay at a ski hostel to learn snowboarding.

“I’m not doing shit,” he said flatly, not even looking up from the couch.

“Pretty, pretty please, Yoongs.” You threw your best puppy-dog eyes at him, hoping for a miracle. Kneeling on his carpet, which was nowhere near plush enough to make this comfortable, you added, “I’ll do almost anything you want if you come with me. Pleeeeeease.”

“Everything?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Almost everything,” you clarified.

“Nah, I’m not going. Leave me alone.”

At that, you got up and threw yourself onto the couch beside him, clinging to his arm like a child. You put your face right up next to his, pouting dramatically. “Pwease, Yoongi oppa?”

“Ew, don’t call me that,” he said, surly grimacing in disgust.

“Okay, but only if you come with me! You won’t have to spend a cent. I’ve already paid for everything. Please, please, please.”

Yoongi sighed, and you could see him starting to waver, shooting you the occasional side-eye. “You’ll cover everything?”

“Everything,” you repeated, your eyes sparkling as you sensed victory.

“Fine.”

“Yesssss! I love you!” You kissed his cheek loudly, and he shoved you away with exaggerated disgust, though you knew he secretly enjoyed the affection. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 4 a.m. Pack your bags!”

“4 a.m.?” he groaned.

“Yup! See you then! Bye!”

“I never agreed to go that early! Hey, no! Wait—”

But you were already halfway out the door, knowing that if you stuck around to hear any more complaints, he’d change his mind in an instant.

Day 0

"I'm sure it's here... somewhere," you mumble desperately, trying to navigate your small, old car through the frosty streets of this tiny town. It's not that you're a bad driver, but Tony—your car, named after Iron Man—is getting on in years. With no power steering, driving these treacherous roads is far from enjoyable. Especially with a grumpy, moody Yoongi sitting beside you, not letting you think for a minute.

"I doubt that. You've got us stranded somewhere civilisation hasn't even reached."

"Oh, come on, I know it's here. And it's not as desolate as you're making it out to be! We saw another car, like, 20 minutes ago."

But Yoongi's right. You're no longer sure if you're heading in the right direction. Your phone died hours ago, leaving you without navigation, and there's been no sign of life for miles. You're hoping for a miracle—or at least that your memory of the route isn’t completely off—because the petrol’s running low. You've turned off the heater in the hopes of making it to the hostel without having to walk, but that means you’re both freezing, and Yoongi’s seconds away from murdering you. Not that there’s much left of your blood to spill, as the cold has probably frozen it solid by now.

"I regret agreeing to this, you know?"

"You've told me that already. Like, four times in the last... what? Five minutes?" Your teeth chatter uncontrollably, and you can’t help but silently agree with Yoongi, calling yourself all sorts of names for coming up with yet another idea that’s entirely out of character for you.

"And I'll keep saying it until we arrive. If we ever do." Yoongi’s breath fogs up as he speaks, and when Tony stutters—a sign that it’s running out of petrol or sheer willpower—you feel like you’re about to cry.

The snow hasn’t let up, towering in piles along the narrow street that seems to climb uphill endlessly. At this point, you’re not only terrified of being stranded but of Tony giving out and sliding all the way back down. All you can do is pray. Pray that this journey turns out better than it started, because, frankly, there’s not much that could make it worse.

"Wait, can you see that building?" You lean forward, nearly pressing your nose against the steering wheel, squinting to get a better look at the dark, blurred shape in the distance. Your windscreen wipers are losing their battle against the snow and frost, getting stuck midway, making visibility even worse. "Can you read the sign?"

Yoongi grumbles something inaudible as you both roll down your windows simultaneously, peering outside—not because it isn’t cold enough already, but because there’s no way to keep driving with a snow-covered windscreen. The freezing air and snow immediately assault your face, biting at your cheeks, nose, and everything else. Your nose starts running mercilessly, your eyes sting with tears that freeze on your lashes, making it nearly impossible to keep them open.

Yoongi’s not faring much better. His short hair, while practical, leaves his ears exposed to the cold, turning them bright red in an instant. Yet somehow, he’s still able to swear profusely—though you’re not sure if it’s aimed at you or the weather.

"It says ‘dinosaur,’" he spits out into the biting air. 

"Yes! It’s ‘Dionysos!’ We’re here! I told you we weren’t lost." You regret smiling immediately, as the cold stabs at your teeth, making you fear they’ll shatter into a million pieces.

"Just park the fucking car."

As you manage to crest the hill, a small but beautiful town comes into view, beginning with the quaint little hostel you booked. And after you parked Tony right in front or it, you somehow manage to force the car windows back up, the frozen mechanisms protesting all the way with deafening screams. But you don’t care. With aching, frost-bitten limbs, you leap out of the car, grab your bags from the boot, and bolt inside the hostel, Yoongi practically bulldozing past you to get in.

Your arrival is marked by a tiny bell hanging over the entrance. While it’s not Christmas yet, the decorations for the advent season are in full swing. But most importantly, it’s warm. So wonderfully warm that you can’t help but take a deep breath, letting the heat thaw you from the inside out, as you discreetly wipe your nose on your sleeve.

"Oh, hey!" A man behind the reception desk greets you immediately. His glasses sit low on his nose, and a ridiculous Christmas jumper stretches across his tall frame.

"Hi! I’ve booked a room for two weeks. It’s under the name..." 

Before you can finish, the man interrupts, saying your name. You glance warily at Yoongi, who, as expected, doesn’t care in the slightest. He’s already parked himself by the fireplace, looking like a cat forced to endure the cold for far too long.

"You’re our only guest this season." The man laughs uncomfortably, clearly sensing your suspicion.

"Oh." That’s all you manage, throwing another helpless glance at Yoongi, who remains completely uninterested.

"Yeah, I can’t compete with all the amenities that new hotel chain offers," he adds with a shrug.

"Oh! That’s a shame." You step forward, genuinely sorry to hear about the plight of small businesses, struggling to survive against the corporate giants.

"It is what it is. But I’m glad to have you here." He flashes you a dimpled smile, his perfectly aligned teeth momentarily dazzling you. "My name’s Namjoon, by the way. I’ll be your landlord, caretaker, cook, and whatever else you need during your stay. Just let me know, and I’ll make it happen."

You shake his hand, startled by how cold your fingers still are. "Thank you so much, Namjoon! You already know my name, but this grump glued to your fireplace is Yoongi."

"Honeymoon?" Namjoon asks, with a teasing grin.

"Ew, no." Yoongi’s voice drips with disgust, and he doesn’t even flinch under your glare.

"What he means is, no, we’re cousins, spending the holidays together."

"Forced to spend—"

"Willingly."

"Threatened to—"

"Shut up, you agreed! Don’t make me look like an idiot."

"You nearly killed us."

"Oh, I did not! Stop lying."

Namjoon clears his throat, cutting off your bickering. You both turn to him sheepishly, like children being scolded by a parent. Your cheeks are burning, not just from the warmth but from the embarrassment of your argument.

"I’ll give you a tour of the place, then?" Namjoon offers, smiling warmly.

"Yes, please," you reply, eager to move past the awkwardness as soon as possible. 

Yoongi struggles to tear himself away from the fireplace, but eventually, both of you follow Namjoon, who remains all smiles despite your rather unorthodox arrival.

“So, this is the main area. You can relax by the fireplace whenever you like—it’s lit all the time,” Namjoon says, glancing at Yoongi, who still seems transfixed by the flames. “To the left are the rooms. There are only three, and yours is at the far end. I took the liberty of choosing the honeymoon suite because, well… you know what I thought. But honestly, it’s the best room here, so it’s no big deal.”

You swallow the urge to ask if it’s possible to have two separate rooms, but you’re running low on cash. Since you’ve become Yoongi’s unofficial sponsor for this trip, two rooms are out of the question. You just hope Yoongi has somehow outgrown his relentless snoring from childhood because, God forbid, you’ll be at your wit’s end if he ruins your sleep for two whole weeks.

“And to the right is my private room and the dining area. Any allergies I should know about?” Namjoon asks.

“No,” you and Yoongi reply in unison, sounding like textbook tourists. Not that you aren’t, but you’d rather it wasn’t so obvious.

“That’s good to hear. These days, everyone seems to have some kind of allergy or gut problem. I really don’t want to have to drive you to the hospital; it’s quite a distance from here…”

Namjoon stops mid-sentence, realising he’s rambling. You’re still standing there, bags in hand, coats on, now sweating from the warmth. You can only hope your body doesn’t rebel from the extreme change in temperature.

“This way, please,” Namjoon says, leading you towards your room. He swings the door open ceremoniously with an old-fashioned key in hand, and you and Yoongi follow, your heavy boots and coats disrupting the otherwise serene, festive atmosphere.

“Wow,” Yoongi murmurs, and it’s truly a sight that will stay with you forever.

It isn’t the room itself that takes your breath away, but the view. The wall facing the mountains is made entirely of glass, offering an uninterrupted view of the snow-covered slopes from peak to base. The storm has lessened without you noticing, revealing thick, heavy snowflakes gently falling, while the sun breaks through the grey clouds that shadowed your entire journey.

You watch as skiers and snowboarders carve their way down the mountainside, zigzagging effortlessly through the untouched snow. At the foot of the mountain, families are building snowmen and riding sleighs, laughter and joy visible even from this distance. It’s in moments like these, during those once-in-a-lifetime experiences, that your thoughts drift back to Jungkook. You find yourself wishing that things had turned out differently, that he could be here to share this with you.

You shouldn’t feel sad about it. You shouldn’t even be thinking about him, especially when he’s clearly moved on. Your relationship feels as distant and forgotten as a book written centuries ago—once beautiful, overflowing with fairytales too good to be true, but now irrelevant, no longer suited to withstand the test of time.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Namjoon’s voice pulls you back to the present, and for that, you’re grateful. Yoongi wouldn’t understand your feelings, and even if he did, he wouldn’t indulge your nostalgia over a past relationship—especially because it was your first and last. 

“It is. Thank you for giving us this room, Namjoon. It’s more than I ever expected.”

Yoongi tosses his bag onto the floor by the bed, shrugs off his coat and shoes, and immediately flops onto the bed, his gaze fixed on the view.

“No worries, really. There’s a phone and a card with my number on it by the nightstand. If you need anything, come to reception. If I’m not there, knock on my door—I’m happy to help.”

Namjoon’s kindness and humility stir something in you. He’s incredibly good-looking, tall, and there’s something about his calm and friendly manner that makes you feel at ease. As he smiles at you, his dimples showing, you wonder if perhaps you might let yourself indulge in him a little—let him be the warmth you’ve been missing.

But for now, you’ll settle in. Let the next two weeks pass without forcing anything. You want to be swept up in whatever comes your way. 

“I’m really happy I booked with you, Namjoon. You’ve been so kind, and this room is perfect. Thank you again.”

“Anytime.”

Your eyes linger on his for a moment longer than you’d admit was necessary, and you seize the opportunity to ask him a few more questions just to keep looking at him. 

“So, I booked a snowboarding course through you. That starts tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, the instructor’s a friend of mine. He’ll be staying here too but won’t arrive until right before your lesson. You booked the classes for a full week, correct?”

“Yeah, I thought a week would be enough, and we’ll practice on our own after that.”

“That should work well. He’s great at what he does and an excellent teacher. But if you need more help, he’ll still be around for the rest of your stay.”

“That’s good.” You’re only half-listening. Namjoon’s dimples and kind eyes are distracting you too much to focus on his words.

“Oh, before I forget—anything in town worth seeing? I’d love to stroll around today since we’ve got no schedule.”

“I’m not leaving this room,” Yoongi mutters, his voice dripping with boredom, but neither you nor Namjoon pay him any attention.

“Hm, there’s not a lot, but you should visit ‘Jimin’s Pastries.’ He supplies my bread, and his pastries and coffee are to die for.”

“That sounds perfect. I think I’ll check it out straight away—I’m starving,” you say with a bashful laugh. “You coming?” You ask Yoongi coldly, knowing the answer.

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Suit yourself. So, how do I get there?” Immediately you turn back to Namjoon.

“I could show you?”

There’s a slight hesitance in Namjoon’s offer, but it only makes him more endearing. You smile genuinely, feeling a little more charmed than you’d like to admit. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Great, let’s go then.” His easy-going nature doesn’t falter, even when Yoongi calls after you, “Bring me back some food!”

There’s no need to answer; the door to the room has already closed behind you, leaving Yoongi behind as well.

“I’ll just need to fetch my coat real quick.”

You follow Namjoon to the reception, your eyes drawn to the way his hips move with each step, the subtle flexing right in front of you. It’s not as if you objectify every attractive man you meet, but Namjoon clearly takes care of himself, and there’s nothing you can really do. After all, you’re no saint, and Namjoon is definitely one of those reasons you’ll never take a vow of celibacy.

He doesn’t take long to return, emerging from his room with a rather thin coat hugging his body, making you feel a little ridiculous in your thick down jacket. But there’s no way you’re changing now.

Ever the gentleman, Namjoon holds the hostel door open for you with a small smile, and you thank him silently as the bell above the door chimes again softly. You don’t let your thoughts drift too far—don’t let them wander back to that time when Jungkook told you he always thought he’d meet his soulmate when he heard a bell the first time he saw them.

Because you’re sure that’s just folklore, just a whimsical story, something for entertainment. And even though Namjoon seems like someone nice you could spend time with, the fanciful idea that he might be your soulmate because of a little bell is absurd.

Outside, the cold hasn’t let up one bit, though the storm and heavy snowflakes have finally ceased. But this time, you welcome the chill, grateful for the contrast to the stifling heat of the hostel and the layers you’re bundled in.

You walk side by side, heading deeper into the small town, and now that the air is clearer, you notice fairy lights strung across the street, bare trees decorated with quaint Christmas ornaments, and every house and shop adorned for the season.

“So, how long have you been running the hostel?” you ask, unwilling and not comfortable nor confident enough to let the silence stretch for too long, opting for small talk that feels so much more safer.

“It’s been a few years now. I took over when my father couldn’t run it anymore.”

“That’s a responsible thing to do. I’m sure he’s proud of you.”

You hadn’t noticed before, but Namjoon’s hair isn’t black at all. Now, as the sunlight reflects off his soft-looking strands, you realise it’s a dark brown, making him look much younger.

“He is.” Namjoon smiles bashfully, glancing down briefly as though to hide a slight blush. “I just hope I can keep things going as well as he did.”

“I’m sure you will. The place is lovely.”

“Thanks. But what’s really lovely is Jimin’s, which is right here.”

Namjoon gestures towards a small shop you hadn’t noticed before, stopping just a short walk from the hostel. You realise now that everything in this tiny town is within easy reach, which you find very convenient.

And he’s right, ‘Jimin’s Pastries’ looks jut as charming as the hostel. The building is old but beautifully restored, its large windows inviting you in without detracting from its historic charm, as though it’s withstood the test of time. The large windows must be new, but you suspect the struts are original, as is the interior you can spot from outside, and it makes you marvel at it instantly.

Namjoon leads the way inside, once again opening the door for you to step through first. Again, a soft chime rings above the door, and the first thing you see is a man behind the counter, slightly shorter than Namjoon, with a smile as radiant as the sun itself, his eyes crinkling into crescents, making him look oh-so-youthful and impossibly welcoming.

“Hey, hyung! Who’s this you’ve brought with you?” the man asks brightly, his voice as musical as a singer’s.

“This is ___, she’s my guest for the next two weeks. ___, this is Jimin.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Please, take a seat, make yourself at home! Namjoon, the usual?”

“Yeah, and some of your magic pastries. We’re starving, right?” Namjoon offers you a seat after taking your heavy coat, which you accept with a shy smile, feeling unaccustomed to such attentiveness.

“Yes, that sounds great. Thank you.”

“And what would you like to drink, ___?”

You squint up at the menu hanging above the counter while Namjoon takes his seat across from you after putting your coats on a rack near the entrance, but Jimin doesn’t give you much time to decide.

“Oh wait, I’ll bring you my special.”

With that, he sets to work, moving quickly around like a busy bee, and you take the opportunity to absorb and soak in the cosy, homey atmosphere.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Namjoon whispers over the sound of coffee beans being ground, leaning in slightly, his elbows resting on the table.

“It is. Thank you for showing me this place. I can’t wait to try everything—it all looks so delicious.”

The display of cakes and sweets is overwhelming, filled to the brim. The macarons, in particular, seem to call out to you, their bright colours practically begging to be tasted, looking almost too perfect to be real, knowing that you have to try them.

“I hope you like it as much as I do, or else I won’t know what to serve you for breakfast.”

You can’t help but giggle with Namjoon, his demeanour so warm and charming it’s impossible not to feel at ease.

“Here you go!” Jimin sings as he walks over with a tray nearly overflowing with pastries, balancing so many that even if you hadn’t eaten in days, you’re sure that there would still be leftovers. But you you’re not about to complain, secretly pleased you’ll get to taste almost everything on offer.

“The usual for Mister NJ, and here’s yours, beautiful,” Jimin winks cheekily, handing you a cup of coffee off the tray. You try to suppress the shy blush creeping up your cheeks. It’s really been a while since anyone’s flirted with you like this, and even if it’s maybe just playful, it’s not unwelcome, but simply unexpected.

“Thank you.”

You’re a bit surprised when Jimin pulls up a chair to sit between you and Namjoon, but thinking about it, it makes sense. There are no other customers at the moment, shop being completely empty except for you three, and it’s clear he’s close friends with Namjoon. Besides, you don’t mind; in fact, it’s comforting to be making these friendly connections, especially if you’re going to be here for two whole weeks. Maybe if these two weeks go well, you could see yourself coming back here one day.

Sensing the expectant looks from both men, their eyes flicking between your face and the cup of coffee in your hands, you finally take a sip—and are immediately thrown back to memories of Jungkook. The momentary peace you’d found is shattered as the familiar taste hits you. The coffee is good, wonderful even, just as perfect as you expected from Jimin’s first impression, but it tastes exactly like how Jungkook used to make it for you, though serving it in a normal cup seems rather…interesting now. 

But Once, you loved the aftertaste of sweet iced Americano, loved the aftertaste after Jungkook had put his lips on yours. But now you’re alone. Now, you’re without him, and there’s nothing you can do but swallow it down, hoping your expression doesn’t give you away—hoping they don’t see how broken you really are and that you’re lying. Lying that you’re not stuck in an all time low for years now, lying that you’re not trying to fix your pride since.

“Wow, it tastes amazing!” 

But both men jut blink at you now, and it’s only then that you realise your hands are trembling slightly, and that the smile you’ve tried so hard to put on doesn’t feel as genuine as you’d hoped.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin’s uneasy in an instant, his brow creasing. “Don’t you like it? Would you prefer something else?”

They both look rather too concerned for their own goods now. Jimin, too, tries to take the cup from your hands, but you hold it closer to you. It’s kind of sweet how strangers seem so empathetic towards you, and it somehow soothes the ache in your chest, even if it’s only a little, but not quite enough to make you forget.

“No! It’s perfect. I swear. It’s just that it reminds me of someone who’s no longer in my life.”

“Oh, my condolences.” Namjoon stretches out his hand, resting it gently on your lower arm with sad eyes.

“No! Oh gosh, no, it’s my ex. He’s alive, we just broke up.”

While Namjoon’s face falls into an embarrassed, crooked smile, taking his hand away, Jimin’s lights up like the fairy lights outside in the dawn. He wastes no time sliding closer to you, his wooden chair squeaking lightly on the tiled floor. 

“Oh, tell me about it. Was it recent?”

You want to say yes, because even though it’s been a while since the split, it still feels like it was just hours ago. But at the same time, the time spent apart from Jungkook feels like an eternity, too unbearable to survive, really.

“Uhm, no, it’s been years, actually.”

And that shifts the whole room into chaos. Jimin doesn’t miss a beat before suggesting, “You just need to get properly dicked down, one good time.”

Namjoon looks even more embarrassed, trying in vain to get Jimin to shut up, while you sit there watching them argue about whether or not Jimin’s suggestion is the right way to help you forget your ‘scruffy ex’—his words, not yours or Namjoon’s.

“Actually, I’m not really interested in finding someone new at the moment.”

“See! I told you! Just let her be!” Namjoon leans back in his chair with a proud, triumphant smile on his face, crossing his arms as if he’s known you for years, which, obviously, he doesn’t. His glasses slide down his nose, making him look less convincing than he should.

“Oh, shut up, she just doesn’t know it yet. Maybe we could set her up with C. I think they’d look cute together.”

“I don’t know, man, you’re kind of right, but he’s not looking for anyone either.”

“That’s perfect! Wait, tell me something about yourself, I need to check if you’d vibe with him.” Jimin again leans in close, his elbows resting on the table between you, hands framing his chiseled jawline as he looks at you with sparkling, excited eyes.

You’re not sure what’s just happened, or who this ‘C’ is. And especially, you’re unsure how to answer the request to ‘tell them something about yourself’. Do you tell them about the introverted self you once were or maybe still are deep down? Your default so to say? Or do you describe the ‘new’, in your opinion uncomfortable self you’re desperately trying to become? At this point, you’re not even sure who you are, and the realisation exhausts you more than the drive here did.

“I…hm…I’m more the type of person who’s calm and doesn’t like a lot of adventures or risky things. So, I don’t think there’s really anyone out there who could handle that.” Yeah, great way to spark someone’s interest—talking down on yourself should definitely be added to your list of traits.

“Oh, that’s perfect. C’s been out of his mind for years. He definitely needs someone to balance him out. The dude’s mental.”

You raise an eyebrow at that, eyes flickering between Namjoon and Jimin. If he’s mental, why would Jimin want you to get involved with him? You’ve got enough of your own problems; babysitting a potential partner is the last thing you want to do.

“Oh no, he’s not mental mental, just a bit too reckless. He’s searching for something no one really understands. I reckon he’s just looking for love, or to be loved, but he’s obviously not finding it.”

“Oh... I see…” You nod vaguely, trying to piece together the information being thrown at you without getting whiplash. “But, uh, who is C, exactly?”

“He’s your snowboard instructor, actually,” Namjoon chimes in. From the look on his face, he’s completely on board with Jimin’s idea as well.

“And his name is C?”

“We call him that. It’s short for BSC, which is short for Babystarcandy.” Jimin beams at you, as if this explanation makes perfect sense.

“I reckon that’s not his actual name?” You deadpan.

“Gosh, no! That would be ridiculous.” Jimin waves his hands exaggeratedly while Namjoon chuckles. “His actual name is—”

The loud ringtone of Namjoon’s phone makes all three of you jump, Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On” blasting from his coat.

“Sorry, I’ll just get that.” Namjoon stumbles off his chair, tripping over his own feet. He grabs his coat at the last moment, pulling it to the floor with him as the hook breaks under the weight.

“Not again,” Jimin sighs, rubbing his eyes with both hands as he sinks further into his chair. “I swear to God, one day—”

“Why am I calling myself?” Namjoon wonders aloud before quickly answering, “Hello?”

You can’t hear the other side of the conversation from across the room, but Namjoon doesn’t seem confused for long. He responds joyfully, “Of course. We’re heading back now... sure... bye.”

“You’re going to pay for that repair,” Jimin mutters as soon as Namjoon hangs up and gets to his feet, tucking his phone into his trousers and pulling on his coat.

“Of course, I always do. That was Yoongi, by the way. He’s hungry and wants us to bring him food. Sooo, could you pack up all the pastries?”

“Yes, of course!” Jimin jumps up immediately, gathering everything together while you watch longingly as he takes the macarons too. But you’re not too sad—you’ll just gobble them as soon as you’re back in your room.

You stand, finishing your coffee in one go, knowing that even though you can taste the caffeine from how strong it is, it won’t do much once your stomach’s full. You’re simply too knackered after today to stay awake longer than necessary.

“Yoongi called you from your hostel phone?”

“Yeah, he didn’t know another way.”

“I can’t with him; he’s so shameless sometimes.” Namjoon helps you into your coat, a gesture you’d like to get used to again—the simple act is just too sweet not to fall in love with.

“Ah, I don’t mind. I like people like him; they’re always honest.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Here come the treats!” Jimin sings as he swings open the door to the back room. The pastries are now securely packed in a paper bag, which he hands to you. “Thanks for coming by, and make sure to come tomorrow too. We’re not done talking, especially after you meet C in person!”

You can’t help but laugh with them both. It’s refreshing to feel joy and fun around you without having to put yourself at risk with some nonsense activity. But if you’re honest with yourself, you wouldn’t have met them if it weren’t for that very activity.

“Thanks, Jimin. I appreciate it. And we’ll see if I’m still alive after tomorrow.”

“You will be—C will take good care of you,” Jimin winks again, and with that, the door chime sounds as Namjoon opens it for you. “Goodnight!”

“Goodnight,” you and Namjoon say in unison, stepping into the cold night as the wind bites at your face again. The fairy lights now illuminate the whole street, ornaments reflecting their red and gold hues, looking like something straight out of a film. Children are still up, playing in the snow and running around, while couples stroll along the pavement. 

It’s a scene you wish you could see every day, and as you make your way back to the hostel with Namjoon by your side, you can’t help but glance up at him now and then as he talks about the small details of the town’s history, C and Jungkook momentarily forgotten.

Day 1

You regret bringing Yoongi with you. So much so, you want to cry and never stop.

It’s not like he’s bad company—not all the time, anyway—but sharing a room with him puts everything into perspective. His snoring hasn’t lessened one bit since childhood; in fact, you’re pretty sure it’s gotten worse. There’s no way you’ll get an ounce of rest if you keep sleeping in the same room, so you decide to ask Namjoon at breakfast if there’s any chance you can switch to the other spare room.

Lying awake all night until Yoongi got up at ass o’clock, leaving the room with his laptop and other gear, had you contemplating every life decision you’ve ever made, including the ones yet to come. Isn’t it ridiculous what you’ve got yourself into again? Sure, you’re kind of sporty, but when it comes to risky sports like snowboarding, you’d much rather watch others do it than try it yourself but here you are. 

You’re sure if Jungkook had seen the way you’ve been living these past few years, he’d laugh. Not that he’d ridicule you—he’s not that type—but you’re certain the clown you’ve become would disgust him as much as it disgusts you.

You’re not sure if it’s healthy to still be so hung up on your ex, or if it’s just normal when you’ve lost the love of your life. Normal in the sense that every thought circles back to him, like you’ve taken the fall for some drug called Jeon Jungkook. 

You’ll probably have to search the internet for a rehab clinic that specialises in self-inflicted heartbreak because after this adventure, there’s no way you’re doing anything like this again. Enough is enough. Especially when there’s possibly, just maybe, a potential partner—someone cozy and inviting, like Namjoon—who might actually like you for who you really are.

It’s still early, but you need to get up and grab some breakfast, knowing today’s course will be physically draining if you attempt it on an empty stomach. You’re certain that dragging Yoongi out will take extra time you don’t have to spare. The thought of making a bad first impression on C terrifies you, not only because he’s a stranger, but because, as Namjoon said, he’s coming here just for you.

Groaning, you force yourself out of bed. The room has cooled slightly overnight, which wasn’t a problem under the thick duvet, but now you can’t seem to handle the cold as well as you usually do. Rushing into the en-suite, you’re first greeted by the warmth of the heated floor, and then by the horrifying sight of your reflection.

“Please, don’t,” you plead, as if your reflection could magically change the image of your swollen face, a result of the ridiculous amount of pastries you munched last night. Your dark circles look more like war paint than the result of a restless night—a far cry from a cute quirk.

There’s no point in using much makeup, not when you’re going to be snowboarding—or rather learning how to—all day, so you settle for a bit of concealer. It takes a lot of mental pep talk to leave the blush behind, knowing the cold will soon give you rosy cheeks and a red nose the second you step outside the hostel. 

Getting dressed is a bit easier; you throw on some thermal black gear, braid your hair into two sections, and leave the room in search of either Namjoon or Yoongi.

It’s no surprise to find Yoongi by the fireplace again, empty plate and coffee nearby, but seeing Namjoon beside him—Yoongi clicking away on his laptop while Namjoon raps into a microphone—leaves you speechless. There’s a whole side of Namjoon you hadn’t seen before. Sure, you only met him 12 hours ago, but you never would’ve imagined, in a million years, hearing him angrily spitting line after line. And despite his usual softness, this harshness leaves you nearly gasping for air.

What are you supposed to do? You’ve always had a weak spot for bad boys, men who exude confidence. And Namjoon is definitely giving off that vibe right now.

“Oh baby, what’s your name?”

The whimper that escapes your mouth is so embarrassing, especially when both men look up at you—Namjoon halting mid-rap—that you can’t, for the life of you, figure out what’s wrong with you. Are you really this pathetic, or was Jimin right all along? Maybe you just need a good shag to recalibrate your brain to normal. It’s been years, and considering the state you’re in now, something’s surely got to change.

You muster whatever dignity you have left and greet them as casually as possible, “Good morning.”

Yoongi, ever the ray of sunshine, doesn’t bother turning away from his laptop, clicking away as if you’re just a fly that’s wandered in. But Namjoon? He meets your eyes with a smile that could rival the dawn itself.

“Morning! Ready for breakfast?”

“Yes, please.”

You’re smitten, and there’s no hiding it as he leads you to the dining area. A table is already set, and you recognise Jimin’s bread in an instant. Knowing how hungry you are after your late-night binge, you waste no time sitting down, your eyes glued to the treats and toppings on offer.

“Fancy a coffee?”

“Black would be perfect!”

“Not a sweet tooth?” Namjoon jokes, pouring you a cup from the thermos flask, the rich aroma battling with the scent of the food.

“Not in the morning.” You smile up at him.

“Probably because you’re sweet enough straight out of bed.”

His wink nearly makes you faint, and it’s clear that while Namjoon’s good with his tongue when rapping, he’s also very smooth with it. You wonder if…

“I guess so,” you mumble, too flustered to look him in the eye now. 

He chuckles quietly and sits opposite you, not bothering to eat himself.

“Not hungry?” you ask, feeling a bit more composed as you distract yourself by preparing your breakfast.

“Nope, I just ate. Just wanted to keep you company.”

“That’s nice of you, thanks. I really hate eating alone, though I do it almost every meal. So, I appreciate it.”

“No worries, I’m happy to keep you company.”

“So, you rap?”

A lazy smirk forms on Namjoon’s face, his head tilted up slightly, and you know full well he’s aware of what he did to your hormones minutes ago. He only hums in confirmation.

Cocky. But you like it, and it suits him. You just hope he’s not too confident—that would be a massive turnoff.

“Side hustle or hobby?”

“Hobby, but Yoongi’s been putting a bee in my bonnet, to be honest.”

“He’s persistent when it comes to talent.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m talented, but he’s a dope producer. I didn’t recognise him at first, but man, I’m lucky to have him here. A literal world star staying in my hostel. I’m gonna have to make a wall of fame or something.”

You snort at that because as ridiculous as it sounds seeing Yoongi on a ‘wall of fame’, Namjoon’s not wrong. Yoongi is world-famous, though he prefers to keep a low profile, which you admire. Well, most of the time. Him being this tight with the expenses of the trip leaves a bit of a sour taste in your mouth—not caused by the coffee, that’s for sure.

“Are you famous too, by any chance?”

You snort again, “You wish.”

“Shame.”

“Tell me about it. Even though I’m the broke one, I’m still the one sugar-mommying him,” you mumble through your bites, not wanting to waste time without filling your stomach.

Namjoon’s laugh lights up the morning even further, and you’re all too glad you booked this hostel. It would’ve been miserable spending your time alone while Yoongi’s off doing his own thing every chance he gets. 

“Any chance of getting a separate room?”

“Why?”

“I can’t spend another night lying awake because of Yoongi’s snoring.”

You look at each other, and suddenly the inconvenience doesn’t seem as bad as it did all night. Namjoon’s laugh is going to be your secret weak spot from now on.

“Sure, I’ll just move your luggage if you haven’t unpacked yet.”

“That’d be great. Thanks so much.”

“No worries.” Namjoon watches you for a bit while you eat, like it’s the most fascinating thing happening to him.

You don’t mind at all—it’s not awkward—but you can tell you’re running out of time by how slowly you’re eating.

“When do we have to leave? Is C here already?”

“Yeah, he got here a few hours ago but went straight to the slopes. You’ve got a few more minutes. I’ve sorted out some gear for you at Hope’s. He’ll give you everything you need for the week.”

It’s a relief knowing Namjoon has thought of everything, especially since you’re not fond of surprises or poorly planned outings.

“You really thought of everything, didn’t you?”

“It’s my job, ___.” He winks at you again, and if you weren’t so focused on shovelling food down, you’d probably melt into your seat.

“All done,” you mumble through your last bite, crumbs shamelessly falling as you stand up.

“Perfect timing. I told Yoongi how to get to Hope’s; it’s not far.”

Not wanting to thank him yet again like a broken record, you just nod and follow him to the main room, where Yoongi’s already by the door, waiting. You’re not sure why he’s so eager when he didn’t even want to come in the first place, but you don’t dwell on it as you say goodbye to Namjoon and head out, Yoongi handing you your coat.

The walk to Hope’s? You’re not really sure despite Namjoon mentioning the name twice, but to the guy who runs the ski and snowboard equipment hire shop indeed isn’t far.

As soon as you step into his shop, you’re hit with the sight of all kinds of winter sports gear and old-school rap blaring at full volume—likely coming from some speakers behind the counter where the seller greets you.

“Hey! How can I help you?”

“Hey, we’re guests of Namjoon and—”

“___ and Yoongi! Of course, Namjoon’s already told me! I’m Hoseok!”

“Weird.”

“Shut up,” you hiss at Yoongi. “That’s perfect. It’s our first time, and there’s no way we’d know what we need.”

“I’ve got you. Just follow me, I’ll start by getting the right boots for you.”

“Thanks.”

There are so many boots in all sorts of colours and sizes that you’re not sure if they’re all for hire or if some are for sale, but it doesn’t really matter. There’s no way you’re going snowboarding again after these two weeks, so you’d gladly pick whatever’s the comfiest.

Yoongi, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to share that thought, picking out the most expensive-looking boots. Truth be told, they do look the fanciest, and if you were as loaded as him, you’d go wild too. It’s with a jolt that you remember you’re the one paying for all this, and there’s no way you could afford the ones Yoongi’s holding up to inspect.

“Put them back,” you hiss, slapping his hand, scolding him for being so careless with your expenses.

“Ouch, that’s rude.”

“I’m not paying for them. Put them back before you damage them and I end up bankrupt.”

“So, what sizes do you usually wear?” Hoseok interrupts, completely unfazed by your bickering.

“Seven and a half.”

“Three and a half.”

“Dwarf.”

“Bigfoot.”

“I’ll bring you one size up,” Hoseok says with a smile. “Any particular colour you fancy?”

“Purple.”

“Black.”

“Got it, I’ll be right back.”

He leaves you both at the rack, disappearing behind a curtain into the back room.

“Could you stop embarrassing me, please?”

“I didn’t do shit, ___. Stop whining.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Need I remind you I’m doing you a favour here? Where’s the respect?”

“Sorry, oppa,” you bat your eyelashes at him mockingly.

“Say that again and I’m leaving.”

“How? Tony’s petrol’s empty. You’re going to walk home?”

“Bet.”

Just as you roll your eyes, Hoseok returns with two shoeboxes and two helmets, placing them down on a bench.

“I’ve brought you brand new ones. There weren’t many in your sizes I’d be comfortable renting out.”

Yoongi and you sit on opposite sides of the boxes while Hoseok removes the packaging from the new boots. Yours are purple, but just the laces and stitching—the rest is black, which gives them a more grown-up look compared to kids’ shoes. You fall in love with them instantly and eagerly grab one to put it on. But no luck.

Even though they’re fully open, you can’t seem to get your foot inside, despite your efforts. You stomp on the ground, pulling at the boot with both hands, but it’s no use. Yoongi, of course, isn’t struggling at all—typical, he’s good at everything.

“Here, let me help,” Hoseok kneels in front of you, securing your calf and the boot, angling the heel to the floor. “Now stand up and push your foot in.”

You do as he says, and with a soft, satisfying ‘plop’, your foot slides in without a hitch. “Thanks! That was easy!”

You repeat the process with the other boot, tightening the laces and clasps, then stand to take a few steps. You stumble slightly, not used to the weight and bulk of the boots, but soon get the hang of it.

“They need to fit quite snugly. When you’re fully geared up, make sure to fasten them as tight as possible. Otherwise, you’ll go flying, and your board will stay on the snow.”

“Oh. Right. Okay. Yeah, sure.”

You don’t like this. You don’t like the idea or the mental image of being catapulted out of your boots while your snowboard says c’est la vie.

To your amazement, the helmets Hoseok picked for you and Yoongi fit perfectly as well.

“If you’re feeling good, let’s get you sorted with snowsuits, yeah?”

You nod and attempt to follow Hoseok, but Yoongi pulls you back down onto the bench, your ass hitting the hard surface with a rather painful thud.

“Take them off, idiot. How are you going to get a suit on with those still on?”

Ugh… it’s obvious, really, but you’re too stressed and anxious about snowboarding to function properly. It’s in moments like this that you start spiralling, regretting your decision all over again. You’re not sure what gave your thoughts away, but Yoongi seems to notice the shift in your mood, as he rests a hand on your knee.

“Hey, it’s fine. I’m here. Don’t stress.”

You lock eyes with him, and you can see a bit of regret there. It’s normal for you two to bicker and take the piss out of each other, but it’s also normal for you both to care. You love each other, like cousins do, and part of you regrets ever thinking you’d made a mistake by bringing him on this trip. Because honestly, there’s no one else in your life right now you’d rather do this with.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s all good. You’ve got this, okay?”

You just nod, loosening the clasps and laces to take the boots off and helmet, then walk in your socks over to where Hoseok is rummaging through racks of snowsuits.

It doesn’t take long for Hoseok to get your right sizes and for Yoongi to disappear into the changing room first. You’re not really sure how to start a conversation with him, but thankfully you’re saved by the shop’s phone ringing.

“Excuse me,” Hoseok smiles politely, walking towards the counter where the phone is obviously placed.

“Hope’s, how can I help you?”

You hold the snowboard jacket in front of your chest, admiring its intricate design in the mirror hanging in front of you, trying not to obviously listen in on the call.

“Jaykaaaaay.”

You freeze, the nickname ringing all sorts of alarm bells in your head. There’s no way it’s Jungkook; like, literally, there might be a million other people with that nickname. You need to calm down somehow, because if your anxiety rises any further than it already has, you’re sure you’re going to die from heart failure.

Hoseok’s repeated and drawn-out calling of this nickname doesn’t help in the slightest, and you reckon that if he repeats it one more time, you’d punch him in the face, even though you’re so not the type to be violent. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

Thankfully, the cheerful shouts stop, and Hoseok listens in until he locks eyes with you, a smile forming. You try to figure out if all the people in this town have such perfect teeth, if there’s a dentist who works magic, or if everyone just has perfect high-end genetics you could only dream of.

“Yeah, they’re here at the moment.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. What do Yoongi and you have to do with this phone call?

“Just a few more minutes. I’ll send them to the beginners’ hill when we’re finished, yeah?”

Okay, hold up—it must be the instructor on the other line, and Namjoon and Jimin called him C, but Hoseok just called him Jaykay, which has nothing to do with C nor BSC. Was it even BSC? Anyway. There’s a very real chance that it’s definitely not Jungkook, because, shame on you, you’ve seen him post a picture from Hawaii last night on socials, which, obviously, isn’t here.

You don’t feel the need to ask Hoseok who it was or what’s going on with these multiple nicknames. For all you care, it could be a 50-year-old, and you’re stressing yourself out for nothing. 

Hoseok comes to your side after he’s hung up, and Yoongi emerges at this moment too, though he’s not modelling his snowboard suit but has it draped over his arm.

“Fits,” is all Yoongi says, nodding once in Hoseok’s direction.

“Perfect, now it’s your turn.” Hoseok gestures for you to the changing room, and you don’t waste any more time. The faster you’re out of here, the faster this day is over, and that’s all you want as the snowboarding course gets closer.

“Thanks,” you mumble, searching for Yoongi’s eyes for just a little more reassurance, but he’s already too busy having a normal and civil conversation with Hoseok, something you wish he’d do more often with you. 

There’s not much room in the changing room, especially when the snowboard trousers are this wide and baggy, so you fall against the walls multiple times, trying not to faceplant onto the floor.

“You good?” Hoseok’s voice is heard from outside, and it’s so unbelievably embarrassing realising that Yoongi had no struggle trying the clothes on because there wasn’t a sound coming from him. Not because the walls are thick or soundproof—no, because he’s simply doing well, like every human being should.

“Yeah!” you call, hoping that the high-pitched tone of your voice doesn’t give you away. But who are you kidding? There’s the low but unmistakable giggle and some mumbled words from Yoongi, followed by Hoseok’s shrill laughter.

You’re going to kill Yoongi, going to push him down the hill and watch him become a snowball and crash into the abyss of a glacier. Stupid moron—you should have left him at home and come alone, and the sharp tug of your jacket’s zipper punctuates your resentment perfectly.

The anger fades as fast as it came, because you look like the coolest professional snowboarder on earth. You twist and turn, make a bum-check, but realise there’s not much to see in these oversized clothes. Still, you feel good in them, especially as your body heat multiplies, which is the best sign that you’ll survive all day in the snow.

Knowing you’ll have to leave as soon as you’re finished, you take the jacket off and rip the price tag away. After undoing the trousers and doing the same, you don’t care if the gear is expensive. Even if so, you’d still use it for sledging or in case of a blizzard or something. You’re sure you’ll get creative with its use.

Sipping everything back up, you collect your down jacket and step out of the changing room, not as elegantly as usual, but more with a rustle and a slight swaying due to the fabric. You can’t suppress the smile that grows on your lips, Yoongi and Hoseok looking equal parts amused and approving of your appearance. You’re all going to get a good laugh out of it when you’re wearing the snowboard boots as well, and that’s all you need right now—humour to suppress the anxiety.

Two snowboards are already lined up. Hoseok helps you into the boots again, while Yoongi masters dressing himself like a real grown-up.

“C’s going to adjust the boot holders on the snowboards for you, so you can just take them with you as they are. They fit your height. And you can leave your shoes and jackets here and collect them whenever you’re finished for the day.”

“That’d be great.”

“Thanks, Jwe-Hope.”

You side-eye Yoongi. Why’s he getting soft with Hoseok? And why does he give him yet another nickname, as if the man doesn’t already have enough?

“No prob, Yoongi hyung,” Hoseok says in an exaggeratedly playful tone, while Yoongi dabs him goodbye.

You’re fascinated by how Hoseok managed to melt the ‘Ice King’s’ heart in the few minutes you were away, and it’s even more fascinating how Yoongi just heads for the door without you even having paid yet.

“Yo, wait! I need to pay!”

“Yep, I’m outside having a smoke.”

There’s nothing you can do as Yoongi leaves without even turning back, your shoulders dropping in defeat.

“I’d like to pay, please.”

Hoseok nods with a smile and you follow him to the register. He scans one tag after the other, the price skyrocketing while your bank account starts to scream in the background. 

“That’ll be 899 dollars,” he beams.

Your smile is wobbly, as is your hand as you hand over your credit card, knowing that this trip will be more expensive than you ever thought.

“Thanks again, Hoseok.”

“No problem, and please call me Hope.”

“Sure, Hope,” you say, securing your credit card in the inner pocket of your jacket. “Have a nice day, and see you later.”

“See ya, bye!” He waves enthusiastically as you head for the door, interrupting Eminem’s Godzilla with your stomping and rattling. How ironic.

Yoongi’s leaning against the shop’s wall as you step outside, just about to take a drag of his cigarette as he notices you glaring at him. Snatching the cigarette from his lips, you take a drag yourself.

“Thought you quit.”

“Give me a break, I need to calm my nerves.”

“Reckon some coke would be better, you’d feel invincible and wouldn’t be scared shitless.”

“Reckon you could just shut up, yeah?”

He just laughs as you give him his cigarette back and make your way to where you assume the slope is.

“This way.”

You stop in your tracks, taking a deep breath with closed eyes. You don’t want to go off at him again; you’ll need every ounce of energy, and wasting it by bickering isn’t the way to go.

Reluctantly, with the snowboard and helmet awkwardly clasped in your hands, you manage to follow Yoongi, though walking on asphalt is rather uncomfortable in these boots, though the walk might be again very short. 

True to that, arriving in a few minutes at the beginner’s hill is a bit sobering. The hill’s neither high nor steep, even kids with sledges would probably call it boring, but you don’t mind one bit. Honestly, it’s perfect for you. No real chance of getting hurt and ending up like one of those cute little animals from Happy Tree Friends.

Off to the side, there’s the lift access and the main slopes, with skiers and snowboarders already queuing up for their first or maybe their nth lift of the day. 

One snowboarder shooting down the steepest hill, which just so happens to be the only one of its kind, catches your attention. He’s dressed head-to-toe in black, and the way he moves is hypnotic. You can’t help but think he must be a pro, maybe even an Olympian.

“Look! He’s so good.” You point him out to Yoongi, who shifts from looking bored to mildly impressed.

“Why’s he coming our way, though?”

“No way.”

But it’s true. He’s definitely your instructor. And not some fifty-year-old guy, either. There’s a lump in your throat you can’t quite swallow, especially because this guy’s height seems just a little too familiar… maybe too much like Jungkook’s. As far as you remember, at least.

You try to reason with yourself. Tell yourself there’s no way this is happening, because he’s got to be in Hawaii—Instagram stories and TikToks made that pretty clear, playing the role of a drunk uncle on family gatherings who can’t keep personal matters shut. You cling to that thought as the man stops a few feet away from you. You cling to it when he takes off his helmet, revealing just a black balaclava. You cling to it even when his eyes give him away.

But when he pulls off the balaclava, all you’re left with is the crushing realisation that you’re absolutely, without a doubt, screwed.

“Hey.”

Jungkook’s voice hasn’t changed much—maybe it’s a little rougher, could be also just from the cold—but it’s still the sound that makes you want to cry. Or run. Honestly, either would work right now.

His eyes lock onto yours, and all you can do is stare, wide-eyed, as if he’s some unreal figure, like a fairytale character suddenly brought to life.

You’ve watched Jungkook mature over the last few years—not in person, but still. You’ve seen the piercings he’s got and the tattoos currently hidden beneath his gear and gloves, and you’re suddenly more than aware that even though he was perfect back then and you shouldn’t have persuaded him to get piercings and tattoos, he’s become the one man you always knew he would be, if not more.

“S’up,” Yoongi just nodding.

That makes Jungkook glance at him, almost as if he’s only just noticed he’s standing there. A small frown forms on his face, but it disappears just as quickly as it came, and he holds out his gloved fist for Yoongi to bump.

“I’m Jeon Jungkook, your instructor.”

“Min Yoongi.”

“The producer Min Yoongi?”

“The one and only.”

Jungkook glances back and forth between you and Yoongi several times, and it dawns on you—he doesn’t know you and Yoongi are cousins. Yoongi was abroad the entire time you were with Jungkook and only came back right after the split, so of course, he never met him. And this… this is something you can work with. Maybe you can use it to keep Jungkook at arm’s length, or at the very least, avoid a complete emotional meltdown if Jungkook’s indeed moved on.

So you laugh softly and link your arm with Yoongi’s, resting your head on his shoulder, who just looks down at you, clearly confused by your sudden affection but, to his credit, says nothing. He knows you well enough to trust there’s a reason behind it.

“___.”

“Jungkook.”

“You two know each other?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s my ex.” Jungkook’s smile isn’t the warm, beautiful one you remember. No, it’s that slightly unhinged smile, the one with his head tilted just so, and it makes you silently gulp.

“That ex?” Yoongi asks, even though he knows full well there’s only one. You reckon he caught on quickly to the game you’re playing.

You hum in agreement, but Jungkook can’t help himself. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Luckily, Yoongi knows how to steer a conversation. “Aren’t we supposed to be learning how to snowboard?”

There’s a brief pause, and you see the way Jungkook’s nostrils flare slightly as he takes a deep, calming breath.

“Yes, sorry. Let’s get started.”

Jungkook bends down to unclip his boots from his board and stands up again, tossing his board into the snow so it sticks upright. Yoongi follows suit, shoving his board into the snow like it’s second nature. You try to copy them but fail miserably, wondering how they made it look so easy when the snow’s this solid.

“Here, let me help.” Yoongi, surprisingly, helps you without his usual snarky comments about your lack of strength.

“Alright,” Jungkook claps once to grab your attention. “Before we get into any of the fancy stuff, let’s talk theory. Snowboarding’s all about awareness. It’s not just physical—you’ve got to keep your head in the game.”

“Awareness? Like, where you’re looking?” Yoongi asks dryly, acting dumb you know he isn’t. 

“Exactly. Where you’re looking, where your body’s pointing,” Jungkook gestures bizarrely between you and himself, barely glancing at Yoongi. “That’s where you’ll go. Simple as that. If you’re distracted—by, say, something or someone—you’ll lose focus. And losing focus means losing control.”

Yoongi, unfazed, just rolls with it, clearly enjoying the little drama Jungkook seems keen to stir up. “Makes sense. Keep your eyes on the path ahead, yeah?”

“Exactly, mate. Eyes forward, always. But it’s more than just looking. It’s feeling the terrain beneath you. Even when you’re standing still, you’re never really still. You need to sense the environment. Be present, y’know?”

You nod, though in reality, you’ve got no clue what he’s talking about.

“Some people, though,” Jungkook continues, “they get distracted easily. Head in the clouds. Or… elsewhere.”

Oh, you’re not letting that slide. Whether he’s jabbing at you, Yoongi, or both, you’re not having it. “Could you just explain the theory without the snide remarks?”

Jungkook’s taken aback, holding both hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, just trying to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

You just shake your head, and he carries on.

“Right. Balance—this is key. It’s all about your centre of gravity. Too stiff, and you’ll fall over. Too loose, and you’ll just flop around.”

“Don’t want that, do we?” Yoongi smirks, clearly challenging Jungkook to keep his little act going.

“No, mate, you really don’t. Trust me. You need to find that sweet spot—controlled, but relaxed. Kind of like…” he glances at you, “when you’ve got things under control in your life, but you’re still going with the flow, yeah?”

Your eyes narrow at him, but you bite your tongue. There’s no point in calling him out when Yoongi’s clearly enjoying winding him up.

“Sounds like life advice, that. Keepin’ balance, goin’ with the flow.”

“Yeah, something like that.” Jungkook mutters under his breath, “Not that everyone takes it to heart.”

Oh, no, he did not just say that. You never expected Jungkook to be this petty. He’s the one who moved on first. “What did you just say?”

“Nothing. Anyway, let’s get warmed up. Let’s do some exercises using the hill.”

You thought that ‘warming up’ would mean some jumping jacks and stretching, but oh, how wrong you are.

Jungkook has you and Yoongi running up and down the beginner’s hill without regret, and honestly, you can now confirm—it’s very much steeper than it looks.

While Jungkook just looks on, you and Yoongi can’t stop laughing and joking about how you are both panting like you’d just run a marathon, earning you multiple scoldings from Jungkook to stay focused. Not that it matters much, considering the only thing worth focusing on was trying to catch your breath—you nearly passed out twice at this point.

Despite Yoongi also being knackered, he still holds up better than you, but you can’t help but to clap him on the ass with a sarcastic “atta girl” more than once, which not only annoys him but seems to make Jungkook’s jaw clench in irritation too.

After what feels like the tenth climb, Jungkook finally calls it, walking towards you. “Enough. Short break.”

You and Yoongi groan in relief, collapsing onto the snow, letting your breathing slow down gradually. Only now, as you lie there exhausted, do you notice how beautiful the day is, the sky almost completely clear of clouds. From the position of the sun, you reckon it’s close to lunchtime, your stomach already growling in gratitude at the thought of food after all this exercise.

Turning your head to the side, you glance over at Yoongi, who’s also lying on the cool snow, admiring the sky. Suddenly, you feel sentimental. You really hit the jackpot having him as a cousin—he’s probably the most reliable person you know. It’s moments like this, especially when he turns to look at you with those soft eyes and that warm smile, that remind you how much you appreciate him. Reaching out, you intertwine your hands, knowing he’ll understand the rare moment of affection and let it happen for once. 

“Thanks for doing this with me.”

“Anytime.” Yoongi squeezes your hand, his gummy smile spreading across his face, a trait he’s clearly inherited from his dad.

Jungkook’s rather aggressive throat-clearing reminds you that you’re indeed not alone. Your petty ex is standing right there, looking as irritated as he’s been all day.

“Let’s do some stretches, then we’ll get on the boards,” he says, trying to mask his annoyance but clearly fails. 

You and Yoongi drag yourselves up, lining up in front of Jungkook like school kids, who’s about to demonstrate some stretch when, in the distance, someone calls out Jungkook’s nickname—one you’ve found increasingly odd now.

“C!”

There’s a beautiful woman running towards him waving energetically, the same woman you saw in pictures with him on social media.

“Hara!” Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop her up when she’s near, lifting her off the ground as they giggle together.

You’d never admit it, but the sight makes you feel physically sick. You’d rather gouge your eyes out than watch this scene unfold ever again. At least you’ve made Jungkook believe you’re with Yoongi—otherwise, you’re not sure how you’d survive the fresh stab to your heart.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were here?” she scolds him playfully, tapping his arm while he still holds her hands.

You can’t bear the sight of his eyes sparkling for someone else, so you turn to Yoongi, who’s raising an eyebrow at you, silently asking if you’re okay. There’s no need to respond. You both know the truth—you’re still not over your ex. But what could you have done? Begged him to take you back before he found someone else? No. That’s not who you are, and you wouldn’t have stopped him from living the life he clearly enjoys now.

But seeing him today, seeing how hurt he is just by the sight of you—or rather, you with someone else—makes you uneasy. Especially when Hara is being overly affectionate with him.

“Oh, how rude of me. I’m Hara.” She turns to you, extending her delicate hand. You briefly consider ignoring her, but you decide to be the bigger person. Unlike Jungkook, who’s been cold all day, you take off your glove and shake her hand, introducing yourself politely. Take that, Jungkook.

She moves on to Yoongi, and after he introduces himself, her face lights up like a kid at Christmas.

“Oh my God! I’m such a fan! You’re, like, the best producer ever!” she gushes, and it takes every ounce of your willpower not to burst out laughing at the sour expression on Jungkook’s face.

You: 2, Jungkook: 0.

“Really?” you ask with a mischievous grin, keen to twist the knife further. “Oppa, you should definitely sign something for her, don’t you think?”

Yoongi shoots you a look that could kill, but he simply smiles, his eyes betraying all the curses he’s silently aiming at you. “Of course.”

Still clutching Yoongi’s hand like it’s a lifeline, Hara turns her head back to Jungkook. “Oh my God! Did you hear that, C?”

“I heard,” Jungkook replies through gritted teeth. “Why are you out here in the cold, by the way?”

“Oh, right. I came to tell you that Namjoon’s arranged lunch at Tae’s.”

“That’s nice of him,” you sing sweetly, unable to resist adding a little extra honey to your voice. Everyone else gets your praise, everyone but Jungkook. Maybe you’re just as petty as he is, but you’re not backing down now, especially not when you can see his patience fraying by the second, his eyes dark with annoyance. A reaction is a reaction at this point. 

“Oh, and before I forget,” Hara continues, turning and clinging to Jungkook’s arm and batting her eyelashes at him, “can you pretty, pretty please come to Jin’s tonight and tomorrow? We need help getting everything ready for the party in two days.”

It’s odd seeing Jungkook so easily swayed by her, the kind of behaviour you never thought he’d entertain. But maybe he’s changed, or maybe you never knew him as well as you thought.

“Sure, anything for you.”

Yep, you’re definitely going to throw up in the snow.

“What party?” Yoongi pipes up, earning himself a mental kick from you. There’s no way you’re attending a party where Jungkook will be.

“An early Christmas party! You’re both invited, of course. From what I’ve heard from Jimin and Namjoon, you two fit right in with everyone here,” she giggles.

For once, you and Jungkook seem to be on the same page, as he starts, “I’m sure they’ve got better—”

But for what feels like the hundredth time today, Yoongi interrupts, “No, we’d love to come. Thanks for inviting us.”

That crazy smile Jungkook had earlier is now plastered across your face as you look at Yoongi. Despite the silent argument raging between you two, you can’t help but trust him. Whatever plan he’s concocting, you have no idea, but you’re sure he’ll fill you in when you’re back at the hostel, alone.

For now, though, you trust him, because what else can you do?

"Let’s head to Tae’s then."

“With the boards?” you ask dumbly, because there’s no way you’re carrying your board across town.

“No, just leave it here and see what happens.” Jungkook smiles, a grin that instantly vanishes when Hara punches his chest.

“What’s with you? Be kind.”

“Sorry, noona.”

Ooh. So he’s with an older woman. Who’d have thought? It shouldn’t get under your skin this much, but it’s been a crap day, hell, even some crap years, and there’s nothing you can do to undo every thrilling experience you wish you hadn’t gone through because of him.

“I’ll help,” Yoongi mutters, grabbing not just his snowboard but yours too. If there’s one thing you could do to repay him for this gesture, it’d be to name him the sole recipient in your will. Not that you’ve got much to leave behind, but the thought counts, right?

You hadn’t expected ‘Tae’s’ to be a cabin on the slopes nearby, nor did you think it’d be a luxurious home rather than a restaurant. As you approach the door, you’re impressed—there’s no sign of it being some kind of inn as Hara rings the bell.

It doesn’t take long for someone to open the door, wearing nothing but some slacks and an open bathrobe, showing off his tanned, chiselled chest.

“C!”

“Tae!”

The two men pull each other into a bear hug, patting each other’s backs like they’re trying to knock the wind out of each other. Male friendships—you’ll never get them, and honestly, you’re glad you were born a woman with every violent tap. 

When they part and Tae gives Hara a few friendly kisses on the cheek, you notice she’s just as comfortable with him as she is with Jungkook. Odd.

Then Tae turns to greet you and Yoongi. His eyes widen when he spots Yoongi, and a huge, boxy smile spreads across his face, so wide it looks like his face might split.

“Hyung!”

“Taehyung,” Yoongi replies, sounding strangled as he gets crushed in the taller man’s arms.

You’re torn between being amused by the visible disgust on Yoongi’s face as he’s squashed against Taehyung’s bare chest or offended that Yoongi never mentioned he knows someone who lives here.

“Please let me go.”

“Sorry, hyung, it’s been ages! How are you?”

“Good.”

“Ah, I’m doing well too, hyung, I’ve missed you.”

“I can tell.”

It’s amusing how Jungkook and Hara are a bit thrown off by Yoongi’s coldness, but as far as you can tell, both you and Taehyung know it’s just Yoongi being his little ray of sunshine. He’s genuinely happy to see Taehyung again, even if he doesn’t show it openly. 

“And who’s this Miss Universe you’ve brought along? Are you on your honeymoon?”

You don’t have a chance to answer when Taehyung turns to you, because frankly, his intense gaze and barely-dressed body in the cold are a bit overwhelming. It’s kind of bizarre that he’s standing there in the open, half-naked, while the rest of you are bundled up for the weather. You force yourself not to check if his nipples are hard and instead stretch out your hand politely.

“That’s ___.” Yoongi’s voice is heard. 

But Taehyung ignores your outstretched hand and steps forward, pulling you into an embrace and kissing your cheek, completely throwing your composure out the window.

“Are you two dating?”

You glance at Yoongi over Taehyung’s shoulder, both of you equally unsure how to answer. Yes, you’re pretending, but outright lying is something neither of you is comfortable with.

“We’re—” you start to say, dragging it out, but thankfully, for reasons you can’t quite grasp, Jungkook grabs Taehyung’s shoulder, pulling him away from you and cutting in. For once, you’re grateful for Jungkook’s stupidity.

“Let’s get inside. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Yes, right! Come in, come in.”

Entering Taehyung’s place is nothing short of wild. The grand open space is filled with dubious art pieces, the kind where you’d rather not know the price tag.

It doesn’t take long to kick off your snowboard boots and gear, leaving you in your base layers. Despite the warmth inside, the sudden shift in layers makes you shiver slightly, especially since there’s nothing in your stomach to keep you warm.

Following Taehyung further inside, you let your eyes wander, and you can’t help but stop when you spot the massive dining table, looking more like something out of a castle. It’s not the Korean BBQ on it that catches your attention but rather the chairs lined up around it. They’re shiny black. Not so unusual, except for the fact that they’re shaped like the backside of a person—naked, at that.

Yoongi, absolutely unfazed, just grins and gives you a light shove on the lower back to keep you moving.

“I hope you’re hungry. I brought plenty, so don’t feel like you’ve got to be all posh and eat like a bird.”

Rounding the table, you sit down beside Yoongi, while Hara joins Taehyung on the other side of the table. Why Jungkook chose to sit next to you, when there are thousands of other free chairs, is a mystery you’re not eager to unravel. Especially when you shoot him an irritated look as he sits down, and he just smiles like it’s the most normal thing in the world—as if the two of you weren’t split ages ago.

Not wanting to dwell too long on that and because you’re intestines are eating you alive at this point, you turn to your host. 

“Thanks for having us, Taehyung. I’m starving after being tortured all morning.”

Everyone laughs at your comment—except Jungkook, who tries to nudge your ribs with his elbow, but you dodge, still somehow familiar with his antics.

“I didn’t torture you.”

“You did,” Yoongi mutters, boldly reaching for the meat to throw on the table grill, which has been sizzling away since you sat down.

“C always tortures people, nothing new,” Hara remarks, and Jungkook looks more betrayed than the day you broke up with him.

“You’re mean, noona.”

“‘You’re mean, noona,’” you mock him, cringing at yourself even as the words come out. It disgusts you how petty you’re being, and you recoil from it inwardly. The others don’t seem to share your sentiment, laughing at Jungkook being moody.

“Oppa, how do you know Taehyung?” 

“Please, just call me Tae.”

“You remember the paintings in my studio? He’s the artist.” Yoongi answers you casually, though you can sense how much it bothers him being called oppa. 

“No way! That’s so cool!” You gush, letting your eyes drift to the artwork hung on the walls as Yoongi adds food to your plate, much to Jungkook’s annoyance, which he makes clear with a side-eye.

“Aww, it’s not much.”

“Shut up, you’re amazing,” Hara scolds Tae, and you can’t help but think that, under other circumstances, you’d probably want to be friends with her. She seems funny and genuinely nice, which just makes it suck more the longer you dwell on it.

“I’ve been looking for a painting to hang above my bed for ages, but I can never find the right one,” you mention, trying to steer the conversation as far away from Jungkook as possible. 

“If something catches your eye, you’re free to have it, ___.”

“Really?!”

“Don’t spoil her; she doesn’t deserve it,” Yoongi jokes, and you know he’s kidding with the way his eyes flit to you. 

“Wow,” Jungkook mutters under his breath, but before you can respond, Taehyung cuts in.

“Why? What did she do?”

Oh no. Yoongi wouldn’t… but of course, he does.

“Little Miss Adrenaline here has been dragging me to most of her adventures since I got back from the States.”

“That’s not true. It’s only been a few,” you try to save face, but it’s hopeless with Yoongi being both your closest ally and worst enemy.

“So bungee jumping, kite surfing, and now snowboarding isn’t ‘most’?”

“No! I’ve done plenty without you, stop lying.”

“But it was enough.”

“They’re bickering like an old married couple,” Hara laughs, clearly torn between which of you to watch.

“It’s not enough—you’ve left me on my own more times than I can count!”

“At least I was there when you whined beforehand and came back all fuzzy after.”

“How noble of you.”

“You don’t seem like the thrill-seeker type, no offence,” Taehyung adds when Yoongi doesn’t come back with a retort.

“Well, sometimes you’ve got to step out of your comfort zone.”

“Yeah! Look at you, trying snowboarding all bold and brave! Kind of like all the things you said you weren’t into when we were dating.”

The table falls into a deathly silence. Jungkook’s words ring out in the open space, echoing painfully in your heart and being. You’re stunned, utterly speechless at his outburst—it’s so unlike the Jungkook you knew. You don’t know what to say, and thankfully, Yoongi spares you the need.

“Want some more meat?”

“Yes, thank you.” Your voice is quiet, too low to betray the trembling in it, but you’re sure everyone feels the hurt radiating from you. You don’t want to feel like a kicked puppy, but somehow, because Jungkook still means so much to you, it stings deeply.

The conversation between the others resumes, though you and Jungkook remain silent for the rest of the meal, though you reckon he doesn’t regret anything. 

You learn that Hara is the same age as Yoongi, and that Taehyung is a bit older than Jungkook—though only by two years.

Even though you haven’t recovered from Jungkook’s jab just yet, you start to enjoy the food, feeling more energised than you did this morning. Jungkook, however, is still steeped in his pettiness, especially when Yoongi helps you tear a perilla leaf off the stack.

It shouldn’t be a big deal, but the constant negative energy from Jungkook is draining you to the point where you’re not sure you’ll even make it back outside for the snowboarding session.

Luckily, neither Yoongi nor Jungkook seem to mind dragging the day out here at Taehyung’s place. Hours pass, and after Tae makes you his special smoothie for your ‘sure-to-be-sore muscles,’ and Hara spills all the gossip you never knew you needed, it’s clear the snowboarding course is off for today.

While Tae and Hara clean up the kitchen, and Yoongi and Jungkook, to your surprise, get along enough to talk shop about music, you take the opportunity to admire Tae’s paintings, hoping to find one that fits what you’ve been searching for.

There are several abstract pieces, bold in colours and strokes, but they feel too chaotic, making you feel restless. You’re about to give up when your eyes land on a smaller piece above the fireplace, drawing you in immediately.

It’s beautiful—abstract as well, but with muted colours. You think you can make out flowers, or perhaps there are angels. You’re not sure, but the painting exudes a calm, controlled aura that you can’t tear yourself away from. Reading the title on the little card in the corner, you see “All of My Good is Yours.” It’s poetic, and it speaks to you on a deeper level.

“You like it?” Taehyung asks, stepping up beside you, hands in the pockets of his bathrobe. With his tousled hair and laid-back vibe, he looks every bit the artist.

“Yes, it’s lovely.”

“You want it?”

“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you.”

“Of course you can. I’d be happy to gift it to you.”

You smile softly, thanking him as you admire the painting once more, already picturing it above your bed.

“What’s the title about?” you ask, curious about the story behind the piece.

“C? Come over here real quick.”

You’re more than confused when Tae calls for Jungkook, not understanding the connection between him and this painting. You just hope the confusion isn’t written as plainly on your face as it is on Jungkook’s when he approaches you both, stopping just short between you and Tae. 

“S’up?”

“What’s the title about?”

Jungkook’s eyes flicker nervously between you, the painting, and Taehyung. “Why are you asking?”

“I gifted her your painting,” Taehyung beams, completely unaware he’s just dug your grave and pushed you in.

The laugh that escapes Jungkook is anything but friendly, his eyes filled with what looks to close to hatred as they land on you.

“Of course,” he breathes, then eventually explains with a disdainful smirk, “it’s about a lover who knows he can’t live without the other.”

You’re shocked to the core. Was this painting meant for Hara, and it ended up at Tae’s by mistake? Or why would Jungkook paint something so meaningful in the first place? You can’t handle it after learning the meaning and that he painted it, even though it’s exactly what you’d envisioned.

You take the hit anyway and say, as neutrally as possible, “I guess I shouldn’t take it then. It feels too personal.”

“Why?” Jungkook scoffs. “It was supposed to be yours anyway.”

Jungkook turns around at that, leaving you gaping after him. It’s not just his mood swings but also his remarks that are giving you whiplash at this point, and seeing the equally shocked expression on Taehyung’s face, you reckon Jungkook isn’t usually this bitter.

“Well…”

“Well…” Taehyung echoes.

“Still want it?”

Do you? You’re not sure anymore, but maybe there’s enough time to figure out if you can look past it all and take it home.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Sure, just let me know, and I’ll pack it up for you.”

“Thanks, Tae. You’re too kind.”

“No worries.” He smiles as he walks back with you to where the others are lounging on his massive couch.

You don’t even have the chance to sit before Yoongi stands up and nudges you back to your feet. “We’re leaving.”

“What? Why?”

“I want a nap.”

“What about the course?” Jungkook chimes in.

“Tomorrow, mate. Today’s done.”

You’re grateful Yoongi made the decision for you because you wouldn’t have been able to say no to either Jungkook’s company or the course itself, even though both aren’t exactly the healthy pastime. But looking outside, with the late afternoon light fading, going back to the slopes doesn’t seem as inviting as it did earlier.

“Aight,” Jungkook says, clapping his hands on his thighs as he stands up too, completely unfazed by your puzzled expression.

“Wait, we need to get our stuff from Hope’s,” you call after Yoongi, who’s already slipping into his boots.

“I’ll call him and let him know you’re coming tomorrow,” Taehyung offers.

You’re not sure if it’s rude of you to leave it like that, but you thank him anyway, hoping it won’t be a big deal.

Everyone’s getting dressed in seconds, and once again, you’re struggling with your boots while everyone else watches. You try not to let the embarrassment show, but there’s no stopping the blush. Even when you throw pleading glances at Yoongi, he doesn’t offer any help.

“Let me help.”

Jungkook being the one to help is something you never expected after how the day has gone, but you’re grateful nonetheless. He bends down, and like Hope earlier, he takes the boot and your calf in his hands.

It’s nostalgic, him touching you, helping you when you’re the damsel in distress, and it makes you think about how different things would’ve been if you’d stayed by his side. You’re not sure how to feel—sad or angry. But who should you be angry at? Him? For moving on? Or yourself? Or maybe at Yoongi, for not stepping up like a cousin should in moments like this?

“Thank you, Kook.” You hadn’t meant for the nickname to slip, hadn’t wanted to see Jungkook’s starry eyes locked onto yours as though you’ve broken his heart all over again. But what’s done is done, and there’s no taking it back now. Not even the nickname.

“Thanks for having us, Tae.” Yoongi gives him a quick dab, and after Jungkook does the same, and you say your goodbyes, you leave with Hara.

You try to stay close to Yoongi, avoiding the other two. You don’t even have the energy to scold him for not helping you earlier. And while you walk silently towards the hostel, Hara takes a different route to wherever she’s staying.

You don’t ask, and you definitely don’t watch as she kisses Jungkook’s cheek as if they won’t see each other later at Jin’s. It’s different from how she kissed Taehyung, and you’re pretty sure even if they’re not officially dating, they’re at least sleeping together. The thought stings though. 

It doesn’t take long for you to reach Namjoon’s hostel, Jungkook, maybe for old time’s sake, opens the door for you to step in first, and when the door chime rings, you both glance up at the same time. There’s none of the old playfulness in his gaze, just a sadness you wish you’d never seen. You reckon it’s all just old feelings resurfacing—thoughts of the good times, ignoring all the things that went wrong.

“Hey! You’re back!” Namjoon calls from behind the reception desk, flipping through some books as the three of you stomp inside with your snow-covered boots. Just hours ago you thought his smile and laugh would be your weak spot, only to fade into insignificance after Jungkook’s presence. “How was it?”

“I’m still alive,” you and Yoongi mutter in unison, bringing a small smile to your lips. It’s not much, but it’s all you can muster right now.

“Told you C would take good care of you both.” Namjoon laughs while Jungkook shrugs off his jacket. He’s probably too warm already, like he always is.

“Your luggage is—”

“In our room, thanks, Namjoon.” You hope he catches the hint as you give him a crazed look, willing him to stop talking.

“Right, in your room.”

To his credit, Namjoon’s clearly confused, and he’s got every right to be, but he plays along, which is exactly what you need right now.

“I’m taking a nap. Bye.”

“Bye!” You wave at Namjoon, following Yoongi in a desperate bid to escape spending another minute with Jungkook. It feels rude, the way you’ve treated Namjoon, but you hope he’ll brush it off as exhaustion.

You just want a bath and then to crash, even though it’s still early evening. It doesn’t matter that Yoongi’s snoring will probably keep you up; as long as you don’t have to face Jungkook again today, that’s all that matters. Especially when you see him entering the room across from yours as you close the door to the honeymoon suite, knowing that he’ll be off to be with Hara any minute. 

masterlist • 02

a/n 3: lmk what you think in any way you like! 👀

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taglist: @leah-rose03

[honeydewandcake]

TW — Asylum/Hospital setting, mental disorders, medical malpractice

Inspired by Fran Bow, Sparklecare, Pure Trance, and other such things; I had an idea for a Dandy’s World AU that centers around a hospital setting

I feel like a lot of people don’t like asylum or hospital AUs because they are full of exaggerated or misinformed ideas of what mental illness is. I tried not to do that, though I’m not a professional so I still might be wrong about some things. I don’t want to take this idea too far in fear that it might be distasteful, but I do want to share this idea to see if others like it too.

Dandy’s Care is a separate world where, instead of a museum, Dandy and his friends were meant to be for a children’s hospital to treat the sick and ill. They were meant to be comfort characters to patients and were meant to support them during their stay. Like in Dandy’s World, the hospital shut down due to unspecified sanitation issues. Dandy, also known as Dr. Dandicus Dancifer, slowly became more and more starved for activity. He started targeting his friends, making the hospital into an asylum for them. He changed their characters, changing his friends into patients. The toons have no memory of their former self, only knowing their diseased and ill present self.

The staff is made up of the main toons. All of them are nurses and Dandy is the main doctor. They all act like their former selves, though they have no memory. I didn’t want to draw all of them so just imagine Astro and Vee in these uniforms.

Read more to see other toons (not all of them drawn or thought of yet, don’t attack me ;-;) ↓

Razzle and Dazzle, the only ones that I thought of completely because I already drew them before. They’re the reason why I made this entire thing anyway.

They are just experiments by Dandy, who wanted to see if the two could live together if they were attached. They used to love each other, now they don’t. Razzle is no longer looking for comedy, Dazzle is no longer looking for hope. Both are only set on the idea of revenge against Dandy for making them this way.

Life is hard when you can only feel the sensations on one half on your body, they can barely walk and can only stand or sit. They take many painkillers as their wounds take a long time to health properly. They wish they could escape this place and just die already, but they’re stuck and forced to live for as long as Dandy wants.

Razzle is a lot more violent now. He is prone to biting and scratching the staff. He hates doing all the lab tests and medical procedures, he hates being near Dazzle, he hates being stuck in this living hell. Razzle is the reason why they’re not allowed near sharp or blunt objects.

Dazzle became paranoid, scared of any noise that happens. He’s terrified of Razzle because of how violent he can get, he hates him too. Dazzle cries a lot, he cries until he can’t everyday. Dazzle wishes he could just die already, he thinks everything is scary and out to get him.

Shrimpo is thought to be a patient that had anger issues and aggressive tendencies. According to Dandy, he was admitted for being violent in public, although this is only part of the fake story that Dandy gave him. Shrimpo was forced to get a lobotomy, unethical but who cares. Dandy sure didn’t.

He’s still in the recovery phase, so he might be a bit loopy. Once those bandages are off, he’ll be as right as rain. Shrimpo is a wanderer around the hospital as he’s no longer a threat. He’s allowed to leave his room and go out in the play yard but only if a nurse is with him.

Shrimpo doesn’t really have much going for him. His thoughts are scrambled and he only cares for things in front of him. Although the lobotomy made him more passive, it doesn’t mean he’s any better in terms of motivation. Shrimpo certainly has no drive for anything anymore, he doesn’t mind but it gets in the way of his health as well. The staff needs to remind him to go to the dining room to eat or to go take a shower, because otherwise he’ll forget.

Boxten was made to believe that he has had problems with insomnia ever since he was little, of course it’s not true. He takes sleeping pills and melatonin, but it only seems to worsen his nightmares. This makes him skip his doses to avoid sleeping, repeating the cycle over and over.

Boxten is afraid of imaginary things that might get him. He thinks they’ve already in his head, eating away at his brain and giving him nightmares. Of course the only thing the nurses can see is his music box. Boxten has lost all trust in the staff since they couldn’t see or feel the things he can.

In my original notes, it said that Boxten might have psychosis.

Well that’s all the once I’ve drawn, I don’t really have the motivation to make every single toon. I have a couple of ideas though

— Goob somehow survived a terrible accident, but both his arms needed to be amputated making him armless. He suffers from brain damage and internal bleeding. He doesn’t seem to have any change in his personality, still as joyful as ever. Maybe it’s a coping mechanism

— Tisha has severe OCD which damages her mental health. She’s constantly worried about everything that happens around her, making her super aware of her surroundings. She could be a danger to herself and others as she sometimes has very aggressive thoughts but can’t control her actions. She unintentionally hurts herself because of her OCD, such as washing her hands so many times that they start to bleed.

Not for a toon, but I did have an idea for an added addition to the hospital. Maybe there’s a twisted reform center where the staff try and heal twisteds back to their normal self. They would clean the ichor from them but since the ichor is also inside of them their personalities don’t change as much. Twisteds such as Finn and R&D might be too far gone though, they would have to be disabled for life. I might draw this idea because I think it’s kind of cool, I definitely will if people also think this is interesting.

[base0h]

HOW HAIKYUU CHARACTERS WOULD REACT TO YOU COMPLIMENTING ANOTHER PLAYER

a/n - I’m alive I swear 💀 I just rewatched some of haikyuu so I’m more familiar with that rn 😂😂

warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, fluff/crack, pre-timeskip characters btw, I don’t feel like making picture banners for all of them like I do with one piece forgive me for just putting text 🥲

HINATA

- yeah you just broke your bro’s heart into a billion pieces

- remember that time when he got nailed in the crotch by a ball in S4? Yeah that’s what it felt like

- “Isn’t he so cool Hinata?!” -you

- but he’s also torn because he also thinks they’re awesome af 😭 so he can’t decide if he’s more saddened by the fact that you’re not saying that about him or if he’s excited that you also like one of his idols

- “…Yes he’s— very cool.” -hinata

- “…You do know my fav player’s always gonna be you though right?”

- oh you don’t even KNOW. How happy you just made him. You just turned his life around with just a single sentence

- bro could burst through the ceiling now

- he basically smothered you with a hug after that and did one of those koala hugs where he was basically just clinging onto you with pure adoration and affection

- it’s one thing if some random other student or little kid came up to him saying he was cool— like don’t get me wrong he’d probably freak out in a good way about that too

- but when it comes from you? He could have all haters but if he still had you? He’s totally fine. All bro needs is your support

- but do be careful because he might actually suffocate you one day if you compliment him too much

- each time you say something good about him his hugs get stronger?? If that’s even possible idk 😭

- you’ll have a great free chiropractor tho so woo hoo😁👍

GOSHIKI

- bro has a thing for getting compliments or getting praise. I saw it VERY clearly when Hinata gave him that compliment about his spikes during the shiratorizawa training camp

- and then when Tendo said his bangs were cool bro was so happy 😭 (he’s so sweet oml)

- but of course when you watch his matches— I mean— you’re gonna be impressed by ushijima

- who wouldn’t be? Bros a literal nuclear bomb ahh spiker 💀

- after one of his matches you went up to him and started talking about ushijima and how cool his spikes and serves were

- “I feel like he’s gonna literally pop the ball everytime he hits it! It’s awesome!” -you

- he agrees wholeheartedly with you! But— man. He wanted you to say that about him 😭

- “Yeah— he’s amazing right..?” -him

- “He’s a third year right?”

- Goshiki nodded and scratched the back of his head sheepishly, looking a bit down

- “Oh so he’s just clearing the way for you then! There can only be one ace so he’s gotta move out of the way for you.”

(I couldn’t find the proper meme to put here so here’s the actual screenshot of him)

- bro could ascend

- he could die right then and there

- but then he remembered he has to show off for you still so he stayed on earth

- ushijima heard you say that btw

- it looked like he wanted to murder you but in reality he thought it was very nice of you to say that to lift goshiki’s spirits

- he just— looks like he wants to crush you and send you to mars 💀

- also Tendo makes fun of him for being so happy about being praised

- “HAHAHAHAH— you LOVE it when y/n ever tells you something positive about you huh~??” -tendo

- yeah no he’s not gonna leave your poor bowl cut boy alone about it now

BOKUTO

- like the other two, he’s big on praise

- I mean before every match the manager tells him someone in the audience said he looks cool so he plays better 😭😭

- having you supporting him at his matches is like having an entire stadium full of people cheering his name

- you make Akaashi’s life less stressful. Good job y/n, Akaashi loves you for that and will legit pay you money to keep coming even though he knows he doesn’t have to. He’s that grateful for you

- I ain’t kidding one time Akaashi just started tearing up thanking you for being his fail safe plan if his 2000000 other plans to get Bokuto out of his emo mode don’t work

- he knows just like one compliment from you will cure Bokuto

- yeah so guess what you had to go and say right before a match started?

- “I just saw itachiyama play and wow that Sakusa guy who’s one of the top 3 spikers was just as good as they said he was!” -you

- akaashi might just do a backflip off of the stadium roof at this point 🙂 hardcore parkour

- the way you could literally see Bokuto’s hair droop down is insane

- konoha and sarukui were like: holy shit we’re absolutely cooked 😀

- this wasn’t an emo mode this was an avant garde mode

- but right as Akaashi was about to seriously jump off the roof, you saved everyone from the disaster you created

- “I don’t know why you’re not in the top three though, imo you’re a lot better than that guy, and a lot cooler looking too.”

- Akaashi looked like he was gonna live again

- Bokuto’s hair flipped back upwards and he excitedly smiled at you, giving you a big hug before going onto the court with an ecstatic air about him

- Akaashi is genuinely terrified of how you can simultaneously destroy their team and bring it back together with singular sentences

- you’re Bokuto’s weakness number 38 which akaashi does not have a solution for 💀

AKAASHI

- Akaashi is honestly happy you’re just with him

- he doesn’t really mind it if you can’t come to see him play, of course he’d love for you to be there but he totally understands if you can’t, and won’t be destroyed about it

- he loves your support and will always appreciate you for cheering him on (and being his mental support because taking care of Bokuto is life draining and he probably gets about a month taken off of his life everytime Bokuto goes into his emo mode)

- during the match with nekoma, you noticed how the setter on their team was also quite an intelligent and skilled player despite seeming so bored and uninterested in the sport entirely

- he had a hold on Bokuto for a good while and it was impressive how he managed to put Bokuto in a slump so smoothly and discreetly

- after the match, you congratulated fukurodani on their victory, and akaashi thanked you for coming like the gentleman bro is

- “That setter on nekoma was really good— he was so calculating and calm about his strategy to make Bokuto go into a slump!” -you

- Akaashi was still a bit traumatized by Bokuto literally forgetting how to do cross shots entirely so uh— 😀

- yeah it didn’t really sound great to him

- bro had to pull out a whole ass speech plus hinata to get Bokuto back on his feet and then you say that 🥲

- he isn’t mad or anything but he isn’t very overjoyed either

- “Yes, he was a really tough opponent. Kuroo-san was too.” -Akaashi

- Akaashi was good at hiding his displeasure, so it just sounded like he was saying something normal like he usually would, in a straight steady tone

- “No match for you and the team though, you guys definitely deserved the win. And you actually look interested and not like you want to die on the court unlike that setter on nekoma— he looked like he wanted to collapse and sleep forever after the first set.”

- he wasn’t expecting you to say that, and he looked pleasantly surprised

- Bokuto grinned and put his arm around the setter

- “Y/n’s right as always, Kenma’s no match for akaashi!” -Bokuto

- the rest of the team wholeheartedly agreed, and akaashi felt glad, happy to know that his team, and especially you thought so highly of him

- no one else could handle Bokuto like he could, and no one could be as cool in your eyes as he was

- you could probably tell him his glasses looked nice and he would never take them off again—

- he’s the type of guy to listen to whatever you say a bit too much sometimes 😭

- he legit remembers the outfit you wore the day he first met you

- kinda creepy but sweet ig? 🤷

OIKAWA

- bro has a billion fans and only really cares abt you cheering him on

- like ofc he needs other people to be cheering him on too because he’s extra like that but it’s 80% you

- don’t ask abt the 20%

- yk how all those girls were asking for his picture and stuff? Ever since he got together with you, he’s been avoiding them a lot more

- he knows it’s probably especially annoying for you to see a bunch of random people asking your boyfriend for pictures and giving him handmade things

- just know that he thinks you’re better than any girl combined and if you ever like start walking away before he’s finished trying to get the girls away from him he will legit sprint after you while screaming

- “Y/N-CHAN WAAAAAAAAAIT!!!”

- my dude is running, and I mean running like a mf track star. You piss off his fangirls so much bro it’s so funny how they look at you like they want to poison you in your sleep💀💀💀

- he reassures you on the daily that you’re beautiful and amazing, but still it’s annoying to see all the girls fawn over him

- so you decided to give him a similar taste of his own medicine

- at the next matches, you were watching with him a match with karasuno and shiratorizawa. You know VERY well that he does not like karasuno or shiratorizawa

- ushijima is probably the one who’s the worst…

- perfect.

- “Whoa Ushijima’s serves are so cool!! And he uses his left hand too damn that’s unique! I’ve never seen a left handed player like him before, and those spikes look like they’re about to tear karasuno’s blocker’s arms off!” -you

- I don’t think he’s ever been more simultaneously heart broken, and pissed at ushijima at the same time before

- he’s such a baby about it too

- he’ll cross his arms and act like he doesn’t care when obviously he does, and with the way he’s pouting about it like a little kid was proof that your little plan worked very well

- “Hmph, I guess so.” -him

- “What, you salty since you lost?” -you

- “Would you mind not rubbing salt in it? It’s only been like two days!”

- you couldn’t help but burst out into laughing because of how upset he was by this— it was ridiculous

- if you had your phone out you would’ve taken a picture of his face and sent it to iwaizumi for shits and giggles

- “I’m joking Oikawa, I think you’re much cooler than ushijima. You have a lot more personality than him.” -you

- “That’s damn right I do!” -him

- “…I didn’t say a good personality or anything.”

- “Pardon me?! I’m very demure and cute thank you very much.”

- “You saying that just proves you’re anything but that.”

- “Y/N BE NICE TO ME :(“

- “No. :)”

- “I knew I shouldn’t have let you hang out with Iwa-chan, he’s turned you against me!”

KUROO

- you’re the carbon to his dioxide

- the hydrogen to his peroxide

- the deoxyribose to his phosphate group (I paid attention in science kuroo, yw)

- even if he doesn’t get to be interviewed by some reporter, and even if he doesn’t get to go to nationals

- if you’re there and supporting him he feels better

- talking to you and hearing you say how cool he plays is more than an interview could ever mean to him

- seriously you make him chemically insane

- like he does not understand how just being around you releases endorphins somehow (you’re magical)

- you had heard of their opponents nohebi from eavesdropping on a couple of random people’s conversations in the lobby

- they were a strong team, and you were intrigued by how a lot of people seemed to dislike them a lot for the way they played.. which was very underhanded

- but even with their underhanded tactics, they were a solid team with good technique and teamwork

- “Whoa the captain of nohebi is actually pretty good!” -you

- “Ugh I know right? Come on nekoma!” -Akane (Yamamoto’s little sister)

- I feel like kuroo has horrible eyesight but then absolutely amazing hearing? Idk 💀 but whatever the case was, he heard that

- loud and clear

- mhm he’s ready to kill nohebi now

- bro is legit a one man Great Wall of china now

- he’s “powered up” as Kenma would say

- Kenma took note that you were kuroo’s power up skill, and would remember to use you in the future as well

- I’m serious bro is flexing so hard on you rn 😭

- he is working double time, sweating, tryna channel his inner Bokuto

- yaku hasn’t needed to save the ball because kuroo’s trying so hard to impress you 💀

- honestly it’s kind of amazing— seeing him sprinting left and right and slamming balls down like it was no one’s business but his

- he checks like every five seconds to see if you’re watching his amazing skills

- and after the match— Kenma went up to you first and thanked you bc Kuroo did like 70% of the work for him 😭

- Kenma legit gave you a Nintendo gift card he’s had in his back pocket since 2019 as a thank you gift and as a “please continue making kuroo do all the work” gift

- god knows how it’s stayed in his pants that have probably been through countless wash cycles 💀

- “Oh kuroo! Fukunaga’s last spike was so cool! He totally hit that line shot perfectly!”

- way to stab kuroo in the back 🥲 he’s legit about to collapse from emotionally throwing out his back

- old man down over here

- he was so destroyed— you left no piece of him intact he’s in literal shambles

- “But kuroo you were so cool! You kept blocking and repelling the balls like you were oppositely charged from the ball!”

- and he’s alive again, you’re a magician

- complimenting him using a science reference?

- oh just marry him already 😭

- he knew you must just be dopamine bc he smiles like an idiot whenever you’re around

- somehow his smile gets even dorkier when you compliment him

- if it’s a science compliment he could quite literally ascend to the moon

- “Hehe thanks y/n.” -him

- “Were you tryna show off in the last set?” -you

- “…Why? Did it work?”

- “…Hm. Perhaps hypothetically, yes.”

- “How does one go about making that hypothesis a true statement? 😏”

- kuroo is so nerdy and his pickup lines are so bad that it just takes whatever smoothness he had (very little to start with btw) away 😭😭😭

- like pls when he first met you when yall were paired up to do a science project about magnetism— bro said

- “Even Neodymium would lose if it were to compete against your magnetic personality 😏🌹”

- “…What? 💀” -you

- you weren’t really sure if you should love bro for his effort or be scared of how bad his pickup lines were

- the answer is both

- it all ended up ok anyways— you’re bonded to him together since yall are oppositely charged ✌️

a/n - no I don’t know how to make pickup lines 💀

[okkotsuus]

"YOU'RE AS BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY I LOST YOU" (katsuki b.) !

features: katsuki bakugo

contents: fantasy au. angst. hurt/comfort/more hurt. mutual pining. barabrian!katsuki. fem!reader. childhood friends to lovers to strangers to lovers again. kidnapping. grief. crying. implied panic attack. major character death. no beta we die like men. 3.9k

notes: i've been yearning desperately to make bakugo say stoick's famous line from httyd2 (my second favorite movie)... if there's interest i'm considering continuing this into the canon verse with it being these two 'reincarnated'.

tagging: @saexy (for enabling and encouraging me in killing off characters) & @meristryker (for enabling me in the gc like a real one)

never in all his life did the great katsuki bakugo think that he would ever love someone enough that he could die. watching the loving smiles of his parents, the gentle caress of his father's hand to soothe his mother's unbridled anger: it made his stomach churn.

yet, at the tender age of seven, while on a trip to a nearby village to discuss the war shifting on the horizon, he finds himself absolutely smitten by their chieftain's daughter. wide e/c eyes peeking out from behind her mother's leg, hands clutching onto the hem of the long skirt.

katsuki finds himself enamoured in that instance, seeing sweet you, looking at the boy with such curious eyes. he stomps over to you: temper even fiery in his youth. his hand grabs onto yours as he hauls you out from behind the safety of your mother.

under the dim candlelight of the meeting room, flickering flames cast dancing rays across your skin. his chubby little face is scrunched into a scowl, tugging you out of the room and into the courtyard with a tenderness that betrayed his expression.

"i'm katsuki and you better not forget it!" his pitchy voice calls, still dragging you behind him. he looks over his shoulder, soft red eyes narrowed in what was an attempt to be intimidating.

but when he sees the relaxing of your eyelids, falling slightly in contentment, with a warm smile that rivals any feeling of victory: the mask of indifference slips in a blink of an eye. red dusts over the slops of his face, baby-fat painted the same carnelian as his eyes. his small hand grips tighter onto yours, as if he never would let you go.

your chubby little face stretches as your smile widens into a toothy grin, eyes crinkling at the corners. "got it, katsuki, i'm y/n!" he swears your voice is just like the lullaby his mother would hum while rocking him to sleep, bringing a rush of warmth through his chest.

that day, katsuki bakugou falls terribly in love with y/n l/n.

the two of you are deemed inseparable, hands always connecting like opposing poles of a magnet. pinkies intertwined stronger than any woven cloth. it's as pure and innocent as it can be.

if one were to see y/n, then it was irrevocably certain that katsuki was a few steps away. it sends rumors spiralling through the lands that there will be a union between the bakugo barbaricum and l/n dynasty. you're only eight when there's an attempt made for your hand.

the thought of two families as powerful as you and katsuki's joining was a fearful thing to many. it spelled doom for many weaker civilizations, those who had dug their own graves with their actions.

your family, blessed be you to have been born to loving parents in a world such as this, easily rejects the many proposals. the l/n dynasty is in a state of power where they are not forced to fend for their village: allowing you this freedom.

running through the streets of his stronghold, chasing each other for the sake of some game that was the farthest thing from either of your minds. katsuki feels whole when you are at his side. the world doesn't seem so ugly, he doesn't feel so angry, everything sings the hymns of the heavens.

he can't pull his ruby eyes off of your form by the age of fifteen. the katsuki you had known, baby-faced with a slight stutter, has began to fill out into a man. his shoulders broaden and begin to carry thick cords of muscle. the chubbiness of his cheeks begins to give rise to sharper angles. his whiny voice is pushed aside by a more gravelly tone. he shoots up like a sprout, hunching over slightly in faces that used to fit him so easily.

but he isn't the only one who is growing into his frame. your shoulders soften at the corners, collarbones visible with every slight movement. your baby fat begins to settle and collect on your hips, rounding them. those toothy grins of yours become framed by pretty lips, always looking soft as a pillow. clothes that used to drape over your like a sheet now feel tighter in certain places, stretching over curves that popped up overnight.

the two of you don't know what to do with yourselves, stolen looks when the other isn't looking. you still hook pinkies, but the touch sends flares of heat running up the back of your neck. it's like you were just meeting each other for the first time all over again.

katsuki feels like a damn sap with the way his heart thunders under his skin: threatening to burst out. he's too taken to notice the heat that was rising to your face whenever he was around, the way your hands nervously would grip onto the swaying fabric of your skirt. too blind to see that you were just as infatuated with him as he was with you.

hurried words, lingering touches, sneaking glances, the two of you had every hint of love right in front of your faces. yet, there's a hesitance that lingers in the back of young minds: afraid that falling in love would end up with no one catching them.

unsurprisingly, katsuki is the one who jumps first. it's a quiet night, the moon is high in the sky. his breath puffs out in front of him like smoke, winter beginning to show herself once more.

you looked too beautiful under the soft azure glow that the celestial sky casts upon you, he simply couldn't bear another moment without you known how much his very soul ached for you.

on the eve of his sixteenth birthday he whispers the words like a prayer, voice softened and gentle for once in his life. "y/n... you plague my every waking thought, i cannot let my heart beat any longer without it being yours."

e/c eyes widen as your head snaps to him, lips parting in shock. katsuki beats you to it, rough palms (once baby-soft) cupping your cheek with a tenderness he was unaware he possessed.

the stars illuminate the sunkissed slopes of his cheekbones, showing the fine lashes that fan out over his eyes. katsuki was ethereal, in every sense of the word, it catches your breath in a hitch. your mind stumbles through everything you could say right now, desperately trying to find the perfect response.

but when the pads of his thumbs drag over the apples of your cheeks, leaving a buzz in the wake of his touch, all rational thought leaves as you allow words to flow like a stream. "i have loved you longer than i have known you, katsuki." your voice is hushed, only filling the small space between the two of you: like a secret that only he and you would ever know.

it sends a trill up your spine when his eyes visibly soften, his face had been growing more and more sharp by the day but only when he was with you did the curve of his cheeks soften. he turns back into a boy around you, as you turn back into a girl when held so gently between his hands.

katsuki surges forwards, nose clumsily knocking against yours, teeth colliding with your own. he's inexperienced, never having kissed a girl, much less even though of kissing anyone but you. you both are a mess, giggling softly through messy pecks smearing over each other's faces. it feels like you're both those giddy kids once more, chasing the other through the cobbled streets of your village. he makes your heart sing.

it was even harder to be apart from him now, hands fully clasped together as you walk through the streets of either of your hometowns. yet, no one is surprised. neither of your parents nor his even bat an eye when you announce the courtship at a family dinner.

love is as natural as breathing for you and katsuki. inherently you have always known exactly what the other needs. he knows just how much you like the wildflowers that grow en-route between your homes. you know just how much he likes when you rise on your tiptoes and press a kiss against the corner of his lips.

it's young and dumb, a rush of big emotions and smiles that stretch your cheeks so far they ache. once you both are eighteen, katsuki turns the courtship into a betrothal. an elegant gold ring, with a garnet slotted right in the center, it sits pretty on your ring finger. his band is thicker, small e/c gemstones scattered along the surface. when in battle he loops it through a chain around his neck: pressing a kiss to the ring before charging forwards.

the world has known y/n l/n and katsuki bakugo have been in love for nearly twelve years, official for three, and betrothed for one. the bakugo barbaricum and the l/n dynasty have began making their plans to unify upon the wedding. it sparks a wave of unease in the badlands.

all it takes is an emissary sent from the dark forest for your world to crumble into shambles. a demon who seems to be the land's scourge reincarnated, hand that turn all to ash, pillages your beloved village. he comes in tow with a mimic and a fire mage. destruction rains as you are brought to the center as their singular demand is you.

your eyes lock with the demon's red eyes, a color that had made you feel so safe until now. the hair on the nape of your neck stands pin-straight as his hand extended towards you: palm up.

a flurry of emotions rush through you like a burst dam, memories of katsuki at the forefront. you want to be selfish, to damn him and his band of criminals to hell, to fight back despite the gravity of the situation. but he is bringing terror upon the people you swore to protect with your life.

so, you step forwards, soft hand sliding into his own. never had a rough palm felt like daggers against your skin, never had you so violently despised the way carmine shines in the light of blue flames.

to save your people, your family, the home you have known your entire life: you go. swept away in black mist. the last thing you see of that place is the bakugo horde rushing towards the gates, your eyes lock with katsuki's before the void claims you.

katsuki lets out a guttural scream as her charges head first into the miasma, falling onto the ground as the last wisp flows just through his fingers. his fist slams against the ground, hands gasping at the dirt you had just been on. he allows himself to cry in front of someone other than you, a wail echoing through the ruins of your village.

that day, you disappear off the face of the realm. no matter how many search parties are sent into the dark forests in the badlands, they all return empty-handed (if they return at all). katsuki keep his ring around his neck, so it beats against his bare chest with every movement: like a reminder of how it felt when his heart actually beat .

scars wind around his arms, around his biceps, over his forearms, across his shoulders. his face is hardened, permanent frown on the lips you used to kiss so tenderly. he's angrier than ever, fuse short as his attention span.

he is a shell of the man he had been, going through the motions of survival but never truly being alive.

this persists for a grueling two years. for seven-hundred and thirty days. for seventeen-thousand five-hundred twenty hours. he is separated from the only person that has ever felt like home, the woman he has loved longer than he knew how to read.

he masks it behind his ego, boisterous laugh to hide the ringing in is ears that hadn't been able to stop. he's more violent the field, less forgiving when in training with kirishima. the explosions that thunder from his palms produce a blackened smoke that lingers and settles in his lungs like a fog.

yearning hits him late at night when he lays alone in bed, a bed that you had once shared with him. silent tears pour, running down the sides of katsuki's face as he stares blankly up at the ceiling. his breath feels short as his chest heaves to get air in. the man's mind is clouded with the look on your face as those bastards took you. he can still remember every single little twitch of your expression when you finally saw him. he remembers the way your breath hitched. he remembers the tears that began to pool at the corners of your eyes.

but, most of all, he remembers not seeing you: for what feels like the first time in his life.

katsuki cannot recall when he finally fell asleep, or if he ever even truly did. his dreams are plagued with you anyways, so the line between memory and dream is thin as a tightrope.

he has a dream that he makes it in time to save you and wakes up alone. that one sticks with him for months, hanging over him like a shadow. if he was only a minute sooner, a stride faster, reacted quicker. maybe you would be in his arms right now instead of gods know where.

relief comes in a rumor that circles in a tavern that a woman with h/c hair and e/c eyes was spotted wondering through the dark forest. katsuki doesn't hesitate, he makes no effort to send out a scout party. he rides at dawn, horse hooves beating against the grass in a frenzied gallop as he makes his way into the badlands.

none of the rouges or thieves hope to stand a chance with him, the smart ones don't even try. he vanquishes the less fortunate with a single swing of his cutlass. the man doesn't stop to rest, only to water his horse and allow it to graze while he catches a brief nap.

his horse comes to a stop right outside the dark forests, whinnying in rejection to enter. katsuki doesn't blame the poor thing, this was the kind of place people went with no intention to come back from. he dismounts, not tying his horse off: it would return with a whistle.

the forest is eerie, yawning opening that is reminiscent of a gaping mouth. but he didn't fear. because at this point, he'd rather not come back if it meant he wasn't coming back with you.

footfalls crunching against leaves and sticks echo through the dim lit treeline. the canopy is so thick that it completely obscures the bright sunlight katsuki has just been under: the perfect place for criminals to hide. the trees creak and groan, as if the land itself was breathing and living.

only when he hears the snap of a twig does he stop, his head snaps around, a flash of h/c darting just out of the corner of his visions. the man's heart stops as he stumbles to pursue, not minding the whipping of low handing branches against his face. not when he could see you darting through the underbrush.

he finally sees you in the full when you run into a path dead-ended by brambles. it's really you. y/n, his y/n.

but you look over your shoulder with such a forlorn look it makes his heart ache in his chest. you don't believe that it's really him. "toga, this isn't funny, it's cruel to keep making me see him." your voice is rougher than he remembered, as if your throat had been worn. it makes his fists clench at his sides.

the mimic had been wearing his face, just to torment you?

just the thought of it sends a rage burning deep in his chest. he has no way of knowing what you have been through. katsuki couldn't protect you: like he always feared he would fail to do.

his steps toward you are hesitant, ruby red eyes softening the second he sees your face. his heart is pounding out of his ribs, it makes him wonder if you can hear it.

a rough hand reaches up to roughly tug the chain that held his engagement band around his neck, the links snapping and clattering to the ground. he doesn't even look at it. with a gentleness, he holds out the ring to you.

your eyes dart back between the metal and him, hands tentatively reaching for it. the thundering race of your heartbeat is all you can hear. your hands, once soft, now rough as his bush against his own as you roll the ring between your fingers.

katsuki's heart breaks when he feels the callouses on your fingertips. he lowers slowly to his knees in front of you, tears fighting their way to prick at the corners of his eyes. he looks up at you like you are the light in the world, a goddess before him. in a way, you are, because he had prayed to every deity to hold you again, even if it was only once more.

"you're as beautiful as the day i lost you." his words come out in a rasp. thick emotion coursing through his chest; nearly choking him.

he watched your eyes widen, tears pooling as you too crash onto the ground. your arms wrap tight around his neck, face pressed side-by-side with his own. strong arms encircle your waist in an instant, pressing you closer with an urgency.

"katsuki... oh gods, katsuki..." you don't even know what to say, just repeating his name like a desperate prayer. your cheeks are wet and your chest aches but you don't care, because he's finally here.

lips clash desperately, just as messy as the kiss the two of you first shared five years ago. it's a mess of teeth and tongue as your fingers tangle into ash-blonde hair, his hands finding the back of your head and your hip. he sucks the breath out of you, as if wanting to absorb you into his being.

and you'd let him if he asked.

carmine eyes search for e/c, his hands cupping your cheeks as he pulls back to study your face. it's like you never left. your eyes are tired, there's some grime on your cheeks, a soft scar above your eyebrow that you've had since you were thirteen.

the softest smile spreads on his face, forehead pressing against yours as his lashes flutter shut. katsuki lets out a deep sigh, one he had been holding for nearly two years now.

warmth blooms in your chest as everything finally settles back into place like puzzle pieces. your hearts beat in sync, you draw breath when he exhales, everything is right in the world once more.

but your heart skips a beat as your eyes open to see that cursed white hair with horns peeking out from below it. tomura shigaraki. a wicked smirk on his lips as he's leaned back against a tree, simply watching.

your hands grip tighter onto the back of the shawl draping over katsuki's shoulders, breathing turning shaky and ragged.

no. no. no. they couldn't take this from you. not again. not after how hard you fought to escape the league just at the fleeting chance of being able to see the man you love. this had to be some cruel joke, right? a trick of the light, maybe...

even you aren't naive enough to believe that, your eyes close as you lean against katsuki, head burying into the crook of his neck. your fiddle with his hands to slip the ring back onto it's rightful place on his third finger. a part of you had already resigned to being ripped away again.

after two years with the demon, you learned firsthand what shigaraki was capable of. and you were not going to allow katsuki to find it out as well.

your legs shook as you stood, a weak smile given at your lover's confused look. "i'll always love you, 'suki, you know that." his eyes widen as his head nods, brows furrowing.

"then let me keep you safe."

carnelian irises widen in realization as his head turns to look back, growl ripping from his chest at the sight of the scourge of the realm's protege. his hands immediately reach for the hilt of his sword, explosions popping in his palms.

but you're already beginning to approach. katsuki seizes you in one arm, hauling you away like the day you first met. he runs through the forest with you: knowing that shigaraki would not allow the both of you to leave.

he bounds over winding tree roots, holding you steady and tight against his chest. the impending sense of doom begins to crawl up the back of his neck, but he needs you to be safe.

with you in his arm, he stumbles out of the forest, shrill whistle leaving his lips as the sound of hooves grows closer. with ease he sets you up on the saddle, but he does not join. you realize immediately what is about to happen. "katsuki-"

"no. it's my turn to keep you safe, y/n. i've always loved you, and i always will. in every life i will find you, and in every life, i will protect you." his words bring tears to your eyes as you desperately stake your head, sobs bubbling past your lips.

shigaraki creeps out of the forest and he delivers a harsh smack to the horse's haunches, sending it galloping away. within a second later a hand is reaching through katsuki's chest, mocking laugh against his ear.

"how heroic. i'll make sure you die slow, barbarian."

never in all his life did the great katsuki bakugo think that he would ever love someone enough that he could die.

that was until he lay on the edge of the forest floor, lifeblood leaking from the gaping hole in the center of the chest. but he wasn't anguished: because he died for you, the only person who he would ever love.

okkotsuus 24

[toptenpeeps]

Something I find really interesting about the mouthwashing (game) fandom is how much unfiltered love Daisuke receives from the fandom.

I don’t think I’ve even seen a character so universally loved by everyone that I haven’t seen a single negative thing about them, like at all. It’s so fascinating to me because Daisuke’s fatal flaw was that he was a people pleaser, one that was so desperate to please it quite literally killed him. He so desperately wanted to be liked by the people around him that he was willing to sacrifice his comfort, morals, and safety in order to get the approval of someone that didn’t even seem to care that deeply about him overall.

And to have that character not only be the most well liked, but to be considered one of the most loved is such an ironic twist. Because that fact is if anyone who had played the game was in the ship, Daisuke most likely would have gotten what he wanted. He would have had someone that cared for him deeply, someone who was willing to tell him that he was someone they were proud of, someone willing to be honest and kind to him.

While Swansea and Anya most definitely cared for Daisuke, neither of them had the time or methods to give Daisuke the care he truly wanted. I don’t blame them, the situation at hand made it so they were dealing with bigger issues, and Jackass definitely didn’t make anything better. Anya couldn’t give Daisuke the care and support he wanted because she was to stressed and afraid to focus on him, Swansea was too depressed and hopeless to be able to tell Daisuke in those moments that he was honestly proud of him. If they had gotten off the ship and were given enough time to heal, they probably would have been able to give out that care and affection to each other easily.

That’s just it though. Daisuke was never able to get the care he wanted, because he tried to get it from someone that was using that desperation to save himself from danger. Had Daisuke put his foot down, refused to listen, decided he wouldn’t please someone in this moment, he most likely would have survived. That’s where the tragedy really strikes, the fact that Daisuke died purely because he was an unlucky kid that wanted to please the people around him really twists the knife. With the icing on the top of this horrific cake being that the care he blatantly sacrificed himself for was only given to him in his very last moments, when there was no possible way for him to recover.

Then to have that character, one that only got a glimpse of that care they craved, be the overall most loved. It feels like the fandom itself is trying to make up for the lost care, to unabashedly drown Daisuke in love as a way to make up for how little he got in the end. Daisuke is called “a useless ray of goddamn sunshine” by Swansea, with many fans repeating this idea, minus the useless part. That idea, the idea that people could care so deeply about someone, to compare them to a piece of the sun and desperately try to keep their light going after they’ve been snuffed out, that was ultimately the very thing Daisuke died for.

Sorry if this wasn’t accurate, it was already way to long for my taste, I just wanted to rant about Daisuke from the hit game Mouthwashing :P

TL;DR - Daisuke Mouthwashing was fighting for his life for some care that he only got when he was fucking dying, interesting that the fandom’s reaction to such a character was to immediately care about them a lot.

[requiemforthepoets]

always be my baby 𖦹 CS55

PAIRINGS: carlos sainz x singer!reader

SUMMARY: It was seven years ago when you last saw each other, it was also seven years ago that you had made a mutual decision that it is best if you both go your own ways. But in those seven years, you never expected that he’ll be leaving you half of him, making it harder for you to completely move on, but jokes on you, you’re still pretty much in love with him. Seven years later, you never expected you’ll be meeting him again, bringing back unresolved feelings and repercussions of the past decisions back to the forefront.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is my first time writing an f1 imagine, so I hope you guys will like it. this is just a product of brainrot at 3am. i’m sorry if there will be a typo and I also used mariah carey’s (which whom I love so much) song heh

TERMS: solntse - sunshine/ray of sunshine ; schast’ye - happiness ; dyadya - uncle

REMINDER: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect to the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 4.2k

WARNINGS: typos and angst

LAS VEGAS

The place where you had been residing for the past seven years, and where you had decided to raise your lovely twins, Thiago and Gabriela, after you and Carlos had parted ways.

Seven years ago, you had been in love with the Carlos Sainz. During that time, he was already starting his F1 journey, with his dreams as big as the tracks he conquered. Though your passion for each other was certainly undeniable, but so were both of your ambitions. So when you had discovered that you were pregnant, you had hoped that it would further cement the bond that you both had. But instead, it shattered your dreams. Carlos had flat out rejected the thought of you being pregnant, and admitted that he wasn’t ready for fatherhood, not now that his racing career is starting to take off. The heart-wrenching decision to part ways had been mutual, yet very agonizing for you.

After your split, you had cut off everyone that is connected with Carlos, even his family—Carlos Sr., Reyes, Blanca, and Ana, whom that had loved you very dearly. They had always been teasing both you and Carlos on how you two would certainly end up marrying each other, but apparently the opposite had happened. Leaving you all alone to navigate the challenges of single parenthood. But you didn’t have to worry of being alone your entire life, your parents, brother, and your sister-in-law had been there for you, helping you every step of the way.

The pregnancy had also prompted you to have a seven year hiatus from the music industry, leaving your fans to wonder when you’ll be coming back. You had focused all of your energy in being a hands on parent to Thiago and Gabriela, but not forgetting to write a new song in your free time when you got a new inspiration for a new album that you had been setting aside. This routine has been going on for seven years, until you had finally released your comeback album last month, where it had taken over the world by storm and had an incredible amount of success that peaked number one in different countries. No one had expected you to drop an album out of nowhere, not when you had been radio silent for over seven years, with a little bit of life update on your instagram account.

Not a week later after your comeback album had been released, you had been offered to a concert residency at Caesar’s Palace, which you had gladly accepted. The prospect of touring scares you as of the moment, so you had decided that doing a show every weekend in the same place and time would much suit you better for the time being. You prefer to have an intimate time with your fans right after your seven year hiatus—which they rightfully deserve of not seeing you for how many years, instead of diving head first at the thought of touring.

So here you are now, it’s the opening night of your concert residency in Las Vegas. You are waiting at the backstage of the Colosseum, watching the dimmed lights of the Colosseum glistened off of the opulent decor. You can hear the buzz of excitement of the eager fans that are excited to see you perform live again after seven years had filled the air. Your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nerves. It has been years since you had last performed on stage again, you’re praying to the gods that you don’t embarrass yourself, like forgetting the lyrics and tripping on stage.

As you took the stage, your powerful voice that you had always been known for had filled the colosseum, captivating everyone that is present. Your eyes had scanned the crowd, reconnecting with your fans that had waited for you in so long to see you again. For a fleeting moment, your eyes locked with with those familiar eyes that you would never forget in your life. Your heart skipped a bit, but you quickly regained your composure, acting like it did not affect you at all, telling yourself that it’s just your pure imagination, simply a ghost of christmas past, that it’s a different person and not him, and continued your performance, pouring all of your emotions. Singing songs from your new album, where it entails what you had been through for the last seven years, and performing a few songs from your old releases. Which had been a real treat for your fans.

Meanwhile, in the midst of the audience, an F1 racer sat among with his friends, his face showing admiration and a touch of nostalgia. Carlos had come to your show out of respect and curiosity, also because his friends are a fan of yours. When the first notes of one of the song in your setlist played, Carlos had felt a strange sense of familiarity. His mind took him back to a memory of you playing the same song on the piano for him, where you had just began drafting the lyrics for your supposed to be new album that time. But he shook it off and convinced himself that it can’t be you. His memories of yours had been a blur to him, especially when he had lost contact with you. Seven years has been a lot of years for him, and he was sure that you had changed a lot during those years.

During the interlude, before you perform the next song, you had decided to connect with the audience. Entertaining them a little bit. Since it was your opening night, your family came with you in full support, including the twins. They are currently in the private area of the venue, and not forgetting that you had planned something special for your opening night. Hoping that everyone in the audience will like it.

“Las Vegas, how are you doing tonight!” You asked, causing the audience to cheer. “Wow. A whole seven years, huh.” You laughed as the rest of the audience laughed with you as well.

“It feels really good to be back again and performing in front of you all. To be honest, I was so nervous of performing again with a live audience. But once I stepped onto the stage, everything had flowed in naturally, like a muscle memory.” You smiled.

“I must admit though, the past seven years had never been really easy for me. During those years, I can say that there was a LOT going on at that time.”

It was indeed a never easy seven years for you. The entire world had gotten a whiff of your pregnancy, and you had been a cover of various gossip magazines and topic of various podcasts. You and your family had been trying to fight off paparazzis that were following you around and wanted to get some scoop. When it was time for the twins to come out into the world, you and your family made sure that no media or paparazzis will profit off of it. You are very strict and serious when it comes to your twins’ privacy, and not letting the world know of their identity. It’s also a lie when you say that those gossip headlines does not hurt or affect you at all, headlines like—

‘greatest female powerhouse singer of this generation had been knocked up?! No wedding ring visible…could it be a one night stand?!’

It really hurt and pissed you off.

Your pregnancy was never a secret to the world. It was private, but never a secret. But you cannot say the same in your and Carlos’ past relationship, your whole relationship had been a secret from the start, you both don’t want the media nor the paparazzis to meddle in your relationship, and it was a mutual decision. So when you got pregnant, the media couldn’t link you to anyone that could’ve gotten you pregnant. Up until now, the media doesn’t have any clue as to who the twins’ father is, and you inted to keep it that way.

But you know very well that you can’t hide the fact that Thiago is slightly starting to look like his dad, Carlos. While Gabriela took on your features, that there is completely nothing denying that Thiago and Gabriela are both you and Carlos’ mini me. For sure the media is bound to form a speculation as the twins grow up, but you intend to keep the obvious fact hidden for as long as you can. This exposure of the twins in your concert will be a really big one. Hoping that you’ll be able to contain the aftermath of it.

“This next song is from the new album, and as you all know, if you listen to the whole album, it’s basically all about my journey, of what everything that had happened during those years.” You smiled at the crowd.

“I know that there are a lot of people that has different interpretations of the song, which I really loved reading, by the way! I had read some of it and it was all really nice, thank you!” You chuckled.

“I intentionally did not want to include this one on the setlist, because its a personal one. I know what you’re all thinking, why put it on album if it’s a personal song. For me it’s okay to be included in the album, but performing the song…it really hits home.” You explained, “but I had changed my mind and added it the last minute, and thought about how I wanted to just turn it into a positive one.” the crowd cheered.

“I also have a special guests with me, that will help me sing this song because I’m dedicating this to them. This is their song.”

You had turned back your attention towards the backstage and check if the twins are all ready to make their special appearance, but the crew had signaled you that the twins will be joining you in two minutes top since they are still getting ready.

“I want to make this opening night of my concert residency a bit special, so that’s why I’m having a very very very special guests with me.” You smiled widely.

“They had been really begging me to join on this one, which even caught me by surprise because they had already practiced for it even before they could ask if they could join me! Can you guys believe it? They are actually really prepared for it!” You said in disbelief, as the audience laughed.

“Then they explained to me why they want to do it, they said that it’s because I will be performing again for the first time after seven years, and they wanted to make it feel more special.” You put your hands over your heart, with a soft expression showing in your face. So touched on what the twins had told you the reason they wanted to perform with you live on stage.

You turned your attention again backstage to see if the twins are already, and they already are, they are just waiting for your queue for them to enter the stage. You had signaled the band to start playing the song and your fabulous four, which is what you call your backup singers, started harmonizing the intro of the song.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” you announced, “I’d like to introduce my two very special guests tonight. My twins, Thiago and Gabriela!”

Everyone in the Colosseum cheered very loudly, they couldn’t believe that your twins would make an appearance in your opening night. It is the first time that your fans, rather the world have seen your twins, considering that you are a very private person and you wouldn’t want your twins be exposed, you wanted them to grow up and have a normal childhood. But considering your status, you are making triple efforts to safeguard your twins.

The twins bounded onto the stage, being guided by your mom, jumping up and down, their overall energy just being so infectious as they joined you for a rendition of your song. You looked at your twins in awe, pure happiness radiating off from the twins, their eyes sparking as the audience cheers loudly for them.

“Thank you so much, momma!” You thanked your mom as you gently grabbed each of their hand and guiding them to the center stage.

“Mommy, there’s so many people!” Gabriela whispered cutely onto the mic, and the audience awed.

“Woah!” Followed by Thiago, completely fascinated.

“There are indeed a lot of people, isn’t it schast’ye?” You said, “They are really excited to see you both tonight!”

The twins squealed in excitement, the thought of people wanting to see them had made them jump again out of excitement.

“Theo, we’re famous!” Gabriela shouted happily, causing the audience to have another laugh.

“When can we sing mommy?” Thiago asked, as the audience cheered.

“We’ll be singing now, solntse.” You laughed, as the band started to play the music a bit louder. “This next song is called Always Be My Baby, and I dedicate this song to my wonderful angels that is with me here tonight on the stage. Solntse, schast’ye, this is your song. I dedicated this to both of you, mommy loves you so much.”

“We were as one, babe, for a moment in time,” you began singing, looking at the twins lovingly, “and it seemed everlasting, that you would always be mine. Now you want to be free, so I’m lettin’ you fly.” You looked at the audience.

“‘Cause I know in my heart babe, our love will never die—okay my loves, here comes your part!”

“You’ll always be a part of me,” Gabriela started, “I’m part of you indefinitely.” Thiago followed.

You are looking at them lovingly, with a proud smile etched on your face.

“Boy don’t you know you can’t escape me, oh darlin’ ‘cause you’ll always be my baby.” They both sang together.

Truth be told, you had written this song for Carlos, an ode to your relationship. It would be a lie if you said that you had completely moved on from him, but you truly did not, it still pains you every time you see him with another partner, and knowing how you both had children out of wedlock. How can you even move on when he left you half of him, he blessed you with two beautiful angels that you would never trade anything for the world, and would always choose to be their mother in every lifetime. Though for you, it doesn’t matter if you had already split up, Carlos will always own your heart.

“I ain’t gonna cry, no, and I won’t beg you to stay. If you’re determined to leave boy, I will not stand in your way,” at some point, you had made an eye contact again with those familiar eyes, but quickly avert your attention to the audience, “but inevitably, you’ll be back again, ‘cause you know in my heart, babe, our love will never end no.”

The twins sang the whole chorus, and you let them. They really love the chorus of your song, so it’s fitting that they are ones who sing it, but sometimes you harmonize with them. As the end of the song is approaching, you and the twins had sang it altogether.

“‘Cause you’ll always be my baby.” Spreading out an arm to the twins, as the twins rushed to give you a tight hug.

Your and the twins’ giggles had been heard from the mic, you gave both them a kiss om their foreheads, and the whole audience errupted in cheers and stood up for a standing ovation.

“Give it up once again for the twins, ladies and gentlemen!” After the twins’ performance, they were guided back by the crew backstage.

“Bye mommy!” The twins said in unison.

“Bye my babies!” You said, as both of the twins blew a flying kiss at you, and you returned back the sweet gesture.

You continued on performing, and you finally reached the last song of your setlist before you conclude your opening night.

“Okay, the last song I’d like to sing for you, it’s called Dreamlover,” you smiled, “and I just would like to thank everyone for being here with me, and tell you that I love each and everyone of you! You can all stand up and dance if you’d like!”

As the band started playing the notes to your song, everyone stood up and danced. You decided to go down the stage and interact with your fans. A security guided you to get around the venue, once you are comfortable, you walked around the venue and hugging some fans, and taking selfies with you. You also shook hands with some of them.

“Hello there!” You said into the mic as you looked up to the people that are seated in the balcony area of the venue, “yes, I see you all up there and you all are looking very lovely tonight!”

You continued interacting with your fans, when a little girl come up to you and gave you a hug. Touched from the little girl’s action, you immediately hugged her back, and she gave you a cute little bear.

“Is this for me?” She nodded, “thank you so much! This is a very lovely gift!” She then went back to her parents and you waved at them.

As you continued walking and singing, handshaking fans and hugging them—you did not recognize that you’re getting closer at the section where Carlos and his friends were seated. There was a brief panic in your eyes, when you saw Carlos—literally there standing, flesh and blood, the father of your children, standing and enjoying the show with his friends. Simply you cannot ignore Carlos, as the media can conjure a bunch of speculations with the interactions and can use it against you. Media people can be ruthless if they want to and create unnecessary drama if you choose to try and ignore Carlos.

So you continued singing and decided to interact with his friends by giving them a smile and each of them a handshake, Carlos will be the last one you’ll interact with since he’s seated at the last seat of their row. Some of his friends are familiar faces with you, since your brother is a huge F1 fan and had been to many grand prix before. You can identify some his friends—Charles, Lando, Max, Lewis, and Daniel. You also just noticed that they also brought their girlfriends with them, since they had took a photo with you.

Then you had finally reached Carlos. It felt like everything was in slow motion and your heart was beating rapidly, felt like it’s gonna leap our of your chest anytime, but you kept your cool. You smiled at him and briefly shook his hand. Apparently he’s the last one you’ll interact with before going back to the stage. As you went back up to the stage, a fan had called out for you, wanting to give you a rose, the fan is a bit far from you and you wanted to accept the rose from the fan, you went back down of the stage again, but you had never expected that Carlos will be the one that will give you the fan’s rose, he had helped the fan get the rose to reach you. You never got to thank him, since the security is already ushering you back to the stage.

At this very moment, Carlos was internally scolding himself, telling himself why the hell did he just do that. In his defense, he just acted out of impulse, and wanted to help a fan. Charles slightly slapped his back and wiggled his eyebrows at Carlos, and Carlos just rolled his eyes at him. His action did not go unnoticed by his friends and everyone in their section.

“Smooth operator, huh.” Charles teased him.

“Shut up.”

“Thank you so much for the rose.” You said to the fan and wave at them. As the song ended, you thanked everyone again for coming.

“Thank you once again for coming, see you again next weekend. Good night!” You said and had exited the stage.

After the show, celebrity and personal friends of yours that had attended your show was invited backstage, as a special privilege for them now that you’re now back in the music industry. In which Carlos and his friends were also invited backstage. You began talking to everyone, and how they congratulated you for a successful opening night of your concert residency.

“We are really glad that you are now back in the industry, and here’s to many more successful concert residency!” A celebrity friend of yours said, followed by cheering from others.

You had excused yourself to look for the twins. The twins are sitting on the couch with your mother, playing on their ipads as your mother watches over them. As you make your way towards them, a hand had stopped you, a soft grip on your wrist. Turning back and looking at the hand that grabbed you, you saw that it was Carlos. He never fails to make your heart skip, at any given moment, you’ll have a heart attack because of him.

“(Y/N),” he breathed out, “it’s really you.”

“Carlos…hi.” Your reply came more of a whisper, but he still heard it. “What are you doing here?” There’s a surprise, mixed with wariness in your eyes.

Seeing and interacting with Carlos out there is one thing, but him in backstage and talking to you right now is a whole different thing. The gods have not fully prepared you with this encounter, you know that sooner or later you’ll face him, but not when you had just came back from your hiatus.

“I came to see the show, with my friends. They’re a fan of yours,” he said, his eyes shifting to the twins. “They were incredible…you’re incredible.”

“Thank you,” you replied, your voice becoming steady, but your heart still pounding.

Carlos took a deep breath, he noticed that he’s still gripping your wrist, so he softly detached his hands on your wrist.

“(Y/N), the twins…they look so much like you. There’s something…” he breathed, “I can’t help but feel there’s something you’re not telling me.”

Your gaze hardened slightly, but before you could respond, you felt small hands tugging your gown. As you looked behind, you saw Thiago staring at Carlos intently.

“Mommy, who is this man?” You put a hand behind your son’s back and caressed his back softly.

“This is uncle Carlos, solntse. Mommy’s old friend.” You smiled.

“Hey there, bud.” Carlos crouched down to Thiago’s level and greeted him.

“I know you!” Thiago blurted out, “you drive a fast car! My dyadya dislikes you!” He looked at Carlos with eye wide of fascination, but very blunt as ever.

“O-oh, yeah, I drive a fast car.” Carlos chuckled, dismissing what the other thing Thiago had said.

“Solntse, why don’t you go back to schast’ye for a while? Mommy will be right with you in a minute.” Thiago nodded.

“Bye uncle Carlos!”

“How old are they?” Carlos asked.

“Seven. They’re turning eight in a few months.”

Carlos’ heart skipped a beat, looking into your eyes, the weight of seven years of secrets and decisions hanging between them. You wanted to tell him so bad, but it is not the time yet, but you are sure that by now, just looking at Thiago, he has an idea that the twins are his.

“Never knew that you got married.” He blurted out, just for the sake of talking to you a little bit longer.

“I never married. It’s just me and the twins, marriage is not really in my roster at the moment, having the twins is already enough for me. I have a lot of things going on…yeah.”

“They must be a handful.”

“They are,” you said with a chuckle, looking back at the twins, “but they’re worth every second. They are my life, they’re the ones that saved me from losing myself.”

There was a long pause, the air thick with unspoken words. Carlos wanted to ask more, to understand the life that you had built, but something held him back.

“I wish you all the best.” He finally said, his voice tinged with sadness he couldn’t quite place.

“Thank you, Carlos.” You replied, her eyes searching his, “likewise.”

Just in time, one of his friends, Charles, informed Carlos that they’ll about to leave.

“Thank you so much for inviting us backstage of your show, we really had a great time tonight.” Charles thanked you.

“The pleasure is all mine.” You smiled as you shook his hands.

As they both walk away, Carlos couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow, he was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle. That something does not sit right with him. You watched him go, a single tear escaping your eye. The truth, and the twins’ parentage had been remained unspoken of. Hoping that one day both of you would get to sit down and have a proper talk, and when time permits, Carlos formally meets the twins.

[meo-eiru]

I apologize in advance for any mistakes (English is not my first language) BUT I JUST CAN'T! I can't stop thinking about how exactly the main character will end up completely dependent on Father Micah. If elves, dark magic, incubi and other creatures exist in this world, I would venture to suggest that possession by demons or other evil spirits is also a known phenomenon.

Just imagine a situation in which the main character is forced to attend church because she realizes that something is wrong with her perception of reality. It all starts small - insomnia, minor auditory hallucinations, which can easily be attributed to general fatigue from work or school. She can try to self-diagnose and self-medicate, but there is practically no effect.

Disjointed and disturbing dreams give way to nightmares, auditory hallucinations become more unbearable and are now accompanied by visual distortions as well. Any sane person in such situation will rush to a psychologist (more likely even a psychiatrist), but the treatment doesn't give the desired results. Her relatives are very worried and concerned; someone from a more devout background may advise turning to the clergy - and Father Micah is simply an excellent candidate to help this poor unfortunate soul. If she really feels better after each visit, then she'll come back again and again. Just to not lose her damn mind.

But what if Father Micah is the root cause of her condition? If he's not as pure and holy as he seems? What if he's the one who made a contract with the entity that is currently ruining her whole life?

He can't keep her in church by force unless there is a good reason, but even if she'll try to stay away, her condition will deteriorate so much that she WILL inevitably attack someone close to her at some point, mistaking them for Father Micah or that entity due to hallucinations. And SHE WILL have to return back if she doesn't want end up accidentally taking the life of someone from her inner circle. But even if she'll refuse to do so voluntarily, her dangerous condition is in any case a good reason to forcibly isolate her from the others.

And I doubt Father Micah is interested in fully exorcising her.

Oh god I love this scenario.

So I don't think Micah would actually make contracts with evil entities to curse you, but he would make you believe you were cursed. I can definitely seem him drugging you small dosages by giving you small snacks whenever you visit the church or run into him by "chance". He'd always play it off as a gift from the church or some leftovers from what they made for the orphans.

You wouldn't suspect him at all. Why would you? He's THE Father Micah. The beloved angel of the town since he was a kid. No human has seen him do evil deeds.

He would know exactly when the drugs kick in and when they are the most effective, and he would always be there at the right time. Talking to you, making you believe it's unnecessary to see a doctor for such mild sickness. Surely it'll get better if you pray.

It's not getting better even after praying? Maybe it was more serious than Micah expected, but worry not, he knows just the right thing to do. You just have to come to his house so he can bless you with his personal prayers. Why not at the church? Haha you wouldn't want to bother everyone there for such a trivial issue right? Don't worry, Micah will give you special treatment in his house, just trust him.

And trust you will, because everyone knows if there's someone you shouldn't fear it's Father Micah.

[tiredmamaissy]

Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Chapter Two

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, profanity, age gap, a lot of sexual tension, size difference/kink, praise kink, heat cycle, scenting, fingering, thigh grinding, cumshot, blood/wounds, recollection of non-con trauma (not heavily described - purely for the plot), let me know if i forgot anything?

Word Count: 8k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Satisfaction - Benny Benassi fully took me through this fic. This one's long. It's got fluff, angst, and smut in it. So buckle up. I hope you guys enjoy 🤍

Synopsis: Your family seeks uturu with the Metkayina in the village of Awa’atlu. You have a difficult time adjusting, and are assigned your own special teacher, Ralak.

<- Previous Next ->

Lessons were productive and frequent. You saw him almost daily, except on the days that Tonowari recruited him for his duties as warrior and hunter. Those were the days you dreaded most. The days when he’d traipse in exhausted and banged up. The days that made you start carrying your medicine pouch on your hip like it was a part of your body.

Days like today.

Ralak walks in moments before the eclipse, jaw clenched with a stagger in his step. You can sense the fracture in his spirit, another unpleasant hunting trip further inland. The gash in his shoulder is evidence of it. You rush over to him, hand firmly gripping your medicine pouch.

“Ra-lak!” your words come out broken, voice bouncing with each thud of your feet.

“It is fine.” he begins, head dropping to hide his grimace.

“It is not. Tonowari asks too much of you.” you huff, running over to him so fast you nearly bump into him. “Oh, Eywa. Look at you.” you tippy toe, eyes franticly scanning his bruised torso, hands doing their mighty best to move his body to have a better look.

“I said, it is –”

“Oh, Ralak.” you cut him off, grazing a finger over the inflamed skin, making his teeth grind even harder.  

“I’m fine. It is just a –”

“Just. Shh. Let me look... let me help you.” you shush him, your other hand brushing over the deep scrapes on his chest.

It’s laughable that he has to hunch his back just for you to have a proper ‘look’. But you didn’t find it funny. Your brows gather tightly at the sight, bottom lip quivering from the mix of emotions surging through you – anger, sadness, concern. Your innocent touches makes blood rush to his face, staining his cheeks a light tinge of pink. His heartbeat quickens - breath deepening.

His eyes remain locked onto you, quietly admiring your beauty. The way your nose scrunches, the little canines chewing on your bottom lip – the heave of your chest. He didn’t mean to let his eyes wander so low, but now that they were there, he couldn’t resist the urge to stare a little longer. To count the beads on your top.

To count the droplets of water trickling between your breasts.

You scoop up a glob of yalnabark, an omaticayan herb you saved for special times like this, and smear it on his chest. The sudden sting brings him back, snapping his gaze up to your screwed face of concern. It warms his heart, just like it did every time he’d come back from a hunting trip a little too banged up. He loved the way you took care of him. The way your small, gentle hands caressed his battered body with whatever smelly concoction you had stowed away in your pouch.

It's all he’s ever craved. Someone to take care of him. To cherish him. To love him. A simple life, in his marui pod he built with his two hands. Big enough for him and his mate, in front of the ocean so that he could fish in the mornings and then bond with his mate in the evenings. Where he could provide for his mate. For his family. To protect.

A mundane life to many, but a perfect life to him.

But rather, he has been recruited by the olo’eyktan himself, to be his right-hand man, to help lead and teach the upcoming hunters and warriors. He yearns for his old life as a fisherman.  Simple. Humble. But shortly after a run in with another clan, Tonowari made the order, and Ralak obeyed. It was at that point in his life that he relinquished his dream of a mundane life.

There’s a part of him, a part that he’s denied attention since he came to adulthood, that yearns for someone like you. Yearns for the possibility that you can provide this simple life for him. A mate. A home. Children. His heart gallops in his chest, slamming against his ribs, but you wouldn’t even know. Not by the way he’s looking at you. But there was one thing he knew for sure, and that was –

His feelings for you are indubitable.

“It is just a scratch.” he says softly, finally finishing his sentence. His hand instinctively rests on your hip as yours search his body for more wounds to smear the herbal concoction on.

“A scratch?” you huff a sigh, beady eyes boring into his before landing on the open gash in his shoulder. Blood trickles down his arm, staining the dark ink pricked under his skin. “You are bleeding. A lot.” you pout, glossy, amber saucers for eyes staring up at him, “…that must really hurt, karyu.”

He crumbles under your touch, gaze softening and body relaxing into you even more. “Do what you need, paysyul [water lily].”

That’s a new one. You smile to yourself and begin cleaning the open wound.

----

Funnily, the only thing you had left to master before your iknimaya was the sign language of the sea people. The ‘finger talk’. Perhaps it was because you had an extra finger, but you found it difficult to create and string together all the signs. Ralak determined that you would need an entire week to learn it, which you couldn’t help but scoff at.

But, he just didn’t want to let go of you so soon.

It was the only thing you practiced outside of the water. It was a refreshing change, to feel the fine, pillowy sand between your toes. To not be wet all the time with hair clung onto your skin. Undoubtedly, it was also easier to focus when this man didn’t have his loincloth stuck to himself, thick bulge on full display.

Most of the days began with you prancing on over, and him guiding you to the pit of sand right outside his marui. Bringing you to your knees with a slight tug of your arms, then kneeling with you. And soon you would be facing one another, in comfortable silence, staring into each other’s eyes. It seemed to be his favourite part of the day. To watch you be brought to your knees in front him, even if its only for a split second before he joined you.

He took each day slowly, starting with the most basic signs. Going over them twice. Thrice. Just to ‘make sure’ you knew them. By the middle of the week, he established his first rule. No talking. From the hellos to the goodbyes, everything must be signed. And if you spoke in casual conversation, he would not answer. This made it even more difficult to poke your figurative finger at him. To find out more about this man before you had to part ways. You did your best to abide by this rule, until you couldn’t ignore the itch anymore.

So, you scratched it.

--

Ralak balls his fist in the middle of his chest, extending it outwards as he opens it and wiggles his fingers.

“Thank you!” you blurt out, straightening your spine and smiling wide.

Ralak gives you a firm nod, quick to move to the next sign. He sweeps his hands away from his forehead, extending them towards you.

“I see you” your voice fades, almost as if you were saying it seriously. Sensually.

He smiles a little, giving you another nod. A moment of silence fills the space between you two. A moment where he just stares, allowing his eyes to trail your body. The way your knees sink into the sand. Your small hands resting on your thighs. The flap of your loincloth draping between your legs. He wants to sign it back. So badly. But you were still his student. His numeyu [student].

He knew he could do it – maintain his composure, that is. Just until after your iknimaya at least. And then he would ask Jake and Tonowari for your hand. He’s patient. Confident in himself that he could do this. Which is why he had to get you out of the water for a while. To stop your breasts from bouncing with the tide, and your nipples from peeking through your beaded top.

“C’mon, give me something harder. I know those.” you break the silence, repositioning yourself in the dip of your feet. 

Ralak blinks a few times, reentering his train of thought. He nods with a slight smile and raises both his arms, hands at ear level with his pointer fingers straightened in the air. He quickly brings them together, allowing for a little space between his fists. He cocks his brow, waiting for your answer.

“Siv-ako?” the word is broken, full of uncertainty.

“Ah. That’s a good girl.” he speaks for the first time, voice extra husky and gruff. He couldn’t fight it – the urge to praise you. Honestly, he’s having a hard time fighting a lot of his ‘urges’ today. He takes a deep breath, hoping to recenter himself, but it only seems makes things worse – making him light in the head.

Oh? Good girl?

The words echo in your skull, heart beating a thump too quick. You can’t stop rub of your thighs; they’re doing it all on their own. You hide your flushed face, looking down at how your lap squirms about, only making your cheeks hotter. Your body seems to be extra sensitive today, skin prickling at the slightest touch – the mere sound of his voice.

“Ralak.” you practically pant, raising your head to look at him. ‘What is the sign for m-a-t-e?’ you sign, fingerspelling the last word.  

The glow in your cheeks is catching, heat spreading to the tips of his ears. He swallows thickly, taking quick, shallow breaths to prevent himself from becoming anymore light-headed. He signs a similar sign as ‘friends’, but instead of all four fingers, he uses only two [I made this shit up].

Your lips pucker in understanding as you nod slowly, holding your hands in the air, carefully creating the motions with your fingers. The figurative - or not so figurative anymore - finger comes out to play.

‘Do you have a mate?’ you sign.

He cocks a brow, ‘No’.

‘Why? Not hiding one in your marui?’ you sign back.

His brows gather, yet a smile creeps on his face. He’s impressed with you, signing so well for him. He entertains the conversation – your snarky comments – curious to see where you’re going with this. ‘No.’ he scoffs a little, shaking his head.

You stare at him in silence, waiting for the reason why.

He tilts his head, half lidded eyes turning beady. ‘My trust was broken.’

Your brows lower in inquisitiveness, or perhaps confusion. Maybe you misread what he signed. ‘Broken? Who?’ you sign, stressing on the ‘who’.  

His eyelids flutter a little, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he huffs out a sigh. His way of expressing hesitation – uncertainty if he should open-up. To let you in. To tell you. You try reassuring him with your eyes, letting him know it’s alright to tell you. He briefly looks out to the horizon before looking back at you. His hands raise once more.

‘A woman who used me.’

You shake your head, unable to fully understand what he means. You understand the signs, but a woman using him? In what way? To carry her belongings? ‘Use you how?’

Now his true expression of hesitation comes forth. Flattened ears, slumped shoulders and brows so tightly pinched they may unify. If he told you, what would happen? Would you look at him the same? Would you accept his offer after your iknimaya? The event replays so vividly he feels like he’s back in the moment.

The moment where an older woman he trusted manipulated him into touching her, to fondle her, when he didn’t want to. When she made him feel like he had no other choice, like he couldn’t say no, or walk away. Young, naïve Ralak. At the merciless hands of her...

‘Heat’.

And just like that, his expert façade of indifference washes over his face. You can literally see him retreat, the crack in his spirit splitting further apart. Like recalling the memory put him back into the moment to feel the hurt of what he just signed.

Meanwhile, your gears were grinding twice as hard to figure out his single sign. You mirror the motion, fingers bending and overlapping slowly to figure it out. You couldn’t even guess. It looked nothing like any other sign you had seen before. Defeated, you shake your head and shrug your shoulders.

“I-I don’t understand, karyu.”

Eyelids fluttering momentarily, a blank stare bores into your eyes. “Heat.” he says the word whilst gesturing the sign. “She used me for her heat. Many years ago. I was... young.” he begins explaining, trying to maintain eye contact with you as it drifts down to your lap. 'Naïve' he signs the last word.  

You hear the words he’s saying. ‘Used’, ‘Young’, ‘Naïve”.

Yet all you could feel was the fire in your own heart. A blaze so big, so menacing it spills over into your chest. Making it cave in on itself. Like hairline fractures are running through each rib, making the foundation of your chest crumble. Jagged edges impaling your heart, the fire spread throughout your entire being.

Why did it hurt so much to hear that this grown man had sexual experience? Why did your heart ache at the thought of him with someone else? Was he always this way? A man willing to calm any na’vi he encounters in heat?

It just slips out.

“So what? Any na’vi woman in heat that you come across gets your help?” you snap, eyes burning from the tears that threaten to fill them.

Eywa, that stung.

It stung this gentle giant so bad that he grimaces. Like really grimaces. His top lip twitches, seemingly from anger. Anger at himself for telling you. He grinds his teeth so hard he may chip one. His head drops, eyes slamming shut to focus on calming that budding tightness in his own chest.

“Y/n” he growls, one of the few times he’s called you by your name.

You’ve come to learn that it usually means he’s frustrated with you. How could he be frustrated with you? He had no right. You can’t hold back the scoff bubbling up your throat, the shake of your head and the roll of your eyes.

“I guess that means you’ll help me when I’m in heat then, won’t you?”

He chuckles under his breath, shaking his head as he finally shuffles to his feet. He towers over your kneeling frame now, exuding the same level of intimidation when you first met. He’s trying his hardest to hold his tongue, but the words slip off it so effortlessly.

“Have you even gotten your heat yet?” he asks patronizingly.

There the tears go, rolling down the swell of your cheeks. Of course, you hadn’t. You were a late bloomer in all aspects of life, even this one.

But why were you feeling so sensitive about all of this? So moody and vulnerable? To the point of tears and condescending comments. It’s silly, really. Prying your nose into this grown man’s life only to get upset with him when he lets you in. Like you were anything special to him for you to be feeling this way.

He had never seen you cry before. Not like this. It melts his hardened heart, softening his exterior with it. You’re still young, still learning. He had let his feelings get the best of him, allowing his composure to break down for a split second. It doesn’t help that he was quite literally looking down at you, towering over your tiny stature.

‘I’m sorry’, he signs. “I should not have said that.”

“Don’t be. You’re r-right. I haven’t.” you sputter, breath hitching from your crying. “Almost twenty with no heat. Just a big fuck up.” you stand on your feet, turning your heel to leave.

“You should not be walking by yourself right now –” he begins, walking towards you, but you only walk away faster. “Tanhì!” he calls, voice cracking.

You stop dead in your tracks and turn back to look at him, tears streaming down your face. “Don’t call me that, Ralak.”

Dark grey clouds crowd the sky, darkening the ambiance. He opens his mouth to speak when a clap of thunder pierces the air. The sound of distant rain grows louder. With his attention averted to the sky, you take your chance and run. All the way back to your family marui as fast as your two left feet can go.

Downpour.

So hard and heavy you can barely see where you’re going. It’s so foggy and hazy that you cross your fingers and hope the marui pod you’re walking into is your own. Yanking back the flap, you duck under the doorframe, dripping wet. Jake and Neteyam stop their dinner preparations and look at you. They see the tears streaming down your face.

“Babygirl?” Jake rushes to his feet, voice frantic.

“Is it Ralak?” Neteyam snarls.

“Just, leave me alone.” you spit, hiding away into your little corner, pulling back your privacy curtain. You slump into your bed, burying your face into the pillow you made from feathers, and cried your eyes out, listening to the pitter patter of the rain on the taut material of your marui.

How fucking embarrassing. You always fuck up, y/n.

How could you be so stupid? To think that there was meaning behind the nicknames, the hugs... the moments. He’s just a teacher trying to tutor his pupil. His pupil that could never get shit right. That’s why he was so patient. So sweet. It was all just an order given by the chief. Not only that, but you were wrong. Totally in the wrong to even ask him such a personal question. But to throw it in his face after he opened-up about it?

Eywa, y/n. You stupid girl.

You feel terrible. Guilt filling your stomach to the brim that you feel queasy. It’s an uncomfortable feeling. So uneasy that you feel like you may throw up. You curl into a ball, clutching your knees as you bring them to your chest to cry.

And cry. And cry. And cry.

Until your eyes are so puffy, so raw that you can barely see. Until there’s two of everything. Your head begins to pound. Thump. Thump. Thump. Your eyes and teeth pulse with it. Yet all that’s running through your mind is Ralak. Ralak. Ralak.

How you feel so bad about what you said, about what happened to him. Not giving him the chance to speak before jumping down his throat. After he’s been nothing but patient with you. Handling you with care and gentle hands. Encouraging you with his words, albeit few. Letting you in when he had built such a tall, thick wall.

Letting you touch him – touch his most intimate tattoo.  

The way his core flexed to jerk his hips away from you. The sound of his grunts when he’s a little frustrated. Flustered. Especially when you tend to his wounds. When you run your fingers along his body, searching for more scrapes and ‘scratches’. The way he looks at you when he’s counting your freckles.

When he calls you tanhì.

Whenever the word slipped off his tongue, it always made your face hot. Just like now. Blushing at the mere thought. Cheeks heating up to a critical degree. Body heating up with it. It feels like you’re on fire – a scorching heat radiating from your core to your extremities. It feels like a fever dream.

Or perhaps it’s just a fever. Sick from the rain, as they would say. Making you shiver and shake, yet also kick off the sheet that’s covering your body. Maybe it was the swoosh of the heavy rain, but you couldn’t hear your own thoughts. All you wanted to do was to make things right. To apologize for your shitty behaviour.  

You had to do it. Now.

A surge of good ol’ determination rushes through you, bringing you to your feet. You wipe the snot off your face and rush out the tent, Jake and Neteyam calling after you. Saying something about the eclipse beginning. A storm forming. You can’t really hear them. It’s all an echo, reverberating in your skull. You wave them off and make quick strides towards his marui.

You feel dizzy. Like the world is spinning around you but it didn’t matter. You’re too focused on making things right. Getting rid of this queasiness. Fixing the one good thing you had for yourself in this wetland. Sand spills between your toes, you can feel it. You’re here.

“Ralak!” you try to shout, only for it to come out as a hoarse cry. “Ralak!”

You look around through blurred vision, the ocean is empty. Of course, it is. The ripple of raindrops piercing the water, the furious push and pull of the tide, the waves that crash violently into the shore – it’s storming. Head snapping to the right, you find that his marui is dark, seemingly with nobody home.

Where is he?

Eyes falling on your own feet, you catch sight of deep footprints in the wet sand, leading inland under the tall mangroves. Tracking the impressions, you find yourself standing at the opening of a cave, tucked away deep into the webs of mangrove roots. A hidden spot, with a lake, lit up by the bioluminescent fauna stuck to the stalagmites hanging from the ceiling. When you see him, it’s like your vision clears. Crystal clear. He’s –

Bathing.

Standing thigh deep in the water, wet hair stuck to his chest. His bioluminescent freckles twinkle brightly, reflecting against the water’s surface. His ears are tucked in, relaxing against his skull, eyes lidded and heavy. Tattoos bold and prominent, they accentuate his muscular physique. Gravity of pandora in full motion, water droplets dribble down his body. Down his jaw. His chest. His stomach. His –

Oh, fuck.  

You tell your eyes to move. To look away. Close. Anything. But they don’t. They stare. Taking in every detail of his thick, half-hard cock, partially submerged in the water. You come to the realization of how he never actually showed you his full tattoo, as the ends of it encircled the base of his length. Eywa, he’s huge. You swallow thickly at the sight, cheeks growing even hotter.

“Ralak.” a whisper parts your lips, eyelids fluttering wildly before you can pull your eyes away. “Sorry. I-I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No need.” he mutters, continuing his bath.

He knew you were standing there all this time. He could sense you. Smell you. And Eywa, it took every bone and fiber in his body to maintain the sliver of composure he has left. He isn’t shy about his body and honestly, didn’t mind if you saw.

He turns to you, flicking his gaze up to meet yours, pupils blown. “You should go home, y/n.” he says as calmly as he can.

“Ralak. I’m sorry for what I said to you. I had no right.” you say, turning your head to look away from his body. It only made things worse for you, making the wooziness unbearable. Making you struggle with your words. “I-I don’t know why I got so upset. I’m not sure –”

“You are sensitive right now. I am not... upset.” he states, accent thick as tree sap.

“What?” you blurt out, looking back at him as you walk into the cave.

Sensitive? What does he mean?

“Y/n. You should go home.”

Hearing your name makes your heart sink. You wish you never told him to stop calling you tanhì. “What do you mean?”

“Look. I am sorry about what I said to you, y/n. But you need to go home.” he says through gritted teeth, as if he were having a hard time withholding his 'anger'.

“No. No. Ralak. I-I’m sorry, too. I just – I want to make this right. I-I feel like I can’t even think clearly right now. But I know that I made a mistake. I’m sorry.” you blubber out, entering the water to walk closer to him.

“Y/n” he growls, stepping back a little. “Please. You said it yourself. You cannot think clearly.”

“Ralak.” you croak, tears welling up in your eyes once more.

Blown pupils peer down at you, eyelids so heavy they look like they may close. “Go.”

Your bottom lip trembles, heart aching from him shooing you away. It feels like your throat is closing, vision blurring so badly that you could barely see him. You try to say the words, only for them to catch in your throat.

‘I was jealous.’ you sign, tears flowing down your cheeks. ‘I was wrong. I am no one to you to be upset with you for being with another.’ you string the words together to the best of your abilities, unsure if they even make sense.

“Oh, y/n. It is not as you think. I have not... given myself to anyone.” he struggles to explain, the heat of your body transferring to his. “Please, do not cry.” his voice falters, brows lowering, blown pupils flickering as they search your puffy face.

Relief. Radiating through your body. Your body yearned for him now, more than ever. For him to be your first. For you to be his first. To mate.

“Then w-what?” the words dislodge from your throat.

“She took advantage of me. Coerced me. But never farther than this” he raises his hand, moving his fingers.  

“Karyu. I’m so sorry. I-I would never –” you cry, gripping two of his fingers.

“Shh. It is alright. I’m sorry, too” he hushes you, bringing your hand to his chest.

“I feel so... so overwhelmed right now. I don’t u-understand it.” your teeth begin to chatter as you finally close the gap between your bodies, slumping into him for one of his hugs. “I think have feelings for my karyu.”

He embraces you, holding you close to his body. “And I have fallen for my numeyu” he chokes out, having a hard time catching his own breath.

Your head snaps up, glossy, panicked eyes glaring up into his. You have a hard time processing what he’s saying, all you can see is the strain on his face as he tries his hardest to remain calm.

“Mawey. Mawey [calm]. Everything is heightened for you now. You’re alright.” he hums shakily, rubbing your back.

“I feel... s-so weird, so hot.” you hiccup, taking those deep breaths that you normally take when you hug him, overfilling your lungs with his scent.

It smells so good today. So good you wish you could bathe in it. Coat your body in his scent. You rub your face into his chest, trying to smear it on your skin. It calms you down, steadying your galloping heart and slowing your shaky breaths. 

“Tanhì.” he heaves a strained sigh, heavy lidded eyes squeezing tightly.

“Lak.” you breathe, body pressing into his.  

“Do you want me to?” he whispers, arm snaking around your waist to bring you closer.

“Hm?” you purr into his chest, rubbing your thighs together.

“Do you want me to help you when you get your heat?” he gruffly pants the words.

This morning replays in your head. All the hurtful words you said to him and the question that came shortly after.

‘I guess that means if I’m in heat then you’ll ‘help’ me then, won’t you?’

“Yes, please.” you exhale, head nodding in his chest.

With that, he holds your trembling body closer, allowing himself to take a full breath, filling his lungs with your scent. Your pheromones. This is the first time he’s letting himself savour them. He’s been picking up your scent all day, trying his hardest not to give into his primal urges to scent you himself – to mark you as his. Eywa, it’s divine. It’s so sweet, and fruity. Nothing like the fruits of the sea.  

His scent grows stronger, his body simply responding to yours. His pheromones make you feel feverish, skin prickling from the fingertips that graze your waist. Your heart thumps wildly between your ribs just as your double vision sets in. A sharp heat shoots down your spine, and pools in your core. Soon you’re panting and sweating in his arms, shaking uncontrollably as you squeeze your trembling legs tighter.

It frightens you.

“Ralak. I-I don’t know w-what’s – happening to me. What’s – what’s happening to me?” you blubber, voice full of panic.

“It is your heat, tanhì.”

“My h-heat?” you squirm in his chest, rubbing your body all over his – unknowingly scenting him.

“Mm-mhm.” he hums, fingers working at the knot of your loincloth. “Is this okay?”

“Yes. Yes.” you moan softly, legs parting to help him take the soddened cloth off you.

Once the knot comes undone, the cloth floats freely in the water, drifting away from you. In one swift movement, he lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist. Another breathy moan parts your lips, your clit finally getting the attention it’s been swelling for. You instinctively cling on to him, snaking your arms around his neck.

He supports your body with one hand under your upper thigh, whilst his free hand cups the back of your head, fingers interlacing with your hair. For a moment, you both indulge yourselves in each other’s scent, rubbing your noses into one another’s neck. It’s almost suffocating. So suffocating that you both pull up simultaneously to gasp for air. Pupils completely blown, you stare into each other’s eyes, panting shakily – lips inching closer and closer together.

He lingers there, flushed lips parted, waiting patiently for your move. For your touch. For your command. You couldn’t take it anymore. The tension is strung too tight that you can feel it in your core, about to snap. Your foreheads touch, noses rubbing together, lips brushing against one another.

“Kiss me.” you mewl needily.

Before you know it, his lips crash into yours roughly, almost bruising them. He’s so hungry for you. For your touch. He’s wanted this for so, so long. Peak of your heat quickly approaching, he wills himself to regain his control. To take it easy with you on your first time.

“My paysyul.” he pants into your mouth, tongue swiping against your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth.

You hum with fervour, allowing your tongue to explore his mouth – to intertwine with his. His fingers untangle from your hair, and cup your cheek, pulling you in closer to deepen the kiss. Soon you’re sharing the same breath, making everything even more hazy.

A large hand slides down your neck and grips it gently, earning him a sudden, breathy moan. Legs tightening around his waist, your hips stutter on their own, desperately trying to find something hump against.

Reading your needy body language, his hand quickly moves down your chest, pulling up one side of your beaded top to reveal your round breast and peaked nipple. He rolls it between his fingers as gently as possible, sending little shocks throughout your breast. The sensation sends your hips into a frenzy, gliding your clit back and forth over each ab muscle.

“Ugh – oh!” you cry out, jaw locking as your mouth hangs agape. Your wetness is overflowing, coating his stomach in a thick layer of slick. The jerk of your hips becomes easier, gliding up and down his stomach even faster. Your teeth click together, eyes watering as you desperately chase the budding feeling in your core.

The little, filthy sounds coming from your mouth only rile him up more, ebbing away more of his restraint. His cock springs up, swollen head smacking against your thigh, quick movements providing just enough friction on his tip, making his hips stammer too. Soon your bodies fall under the trance of your heat, desperately grinding into one another.  

The urge to touch, no – to be inside you is overwhelming. He wants to know how your gummy walls feel around his cock. But he knows that your too small to take him, that he would have to stretch you out first. Prepare your little body so it wouldn’t hurt.

His hand works its way from your breast, down to your stomach where he lingers for some time. His fingers play in the dip of your navel as they slide between your sticky pelvis and his stomach, parting your folds carefully. Hips snapping back, you open yourself up to his touches, resting your chin in the dip of his collarbone.   

“This okay?” he asks quickly, fingertips finding the bundle of nerves at the peak of your slit.

“Mm-mhm! Please -” you whine lengthily, frustration so pent up it leaves you breathless.

“Breathe, tanhì.” he hums, fingers rubbing tight circles into your clit.

You gasp for air, a cool sensation filling your lungs. It feels so good – so much better than the way you do it before you go to sleep. You try hard to focus on the budding feeling in your core, to chase it so you can finally know what an orgasm feels like. But this was just another thing that you struggled with.

“Used fingers before?” he huffs in your ear, sliding two fingers down to your entrance.  

“T-tried it... once.” you admit timidly.

“How many?” he rasps, pulling a finger back into his palm, leaving only one to prod at your slit.

His strong scent disorients you, leaving you in such a befuddled state that you ignore his question and snuggle into the crook of his neck.

“Tell me, tanhì. Quickly.” he pants.

“One.” you mumble, grazing your canines on his pulsing throat as you suckle on his skin, leaving behind a bruise-like mark. Surely one of his is equivalent to almost two of yours. He knew that this was going to hurt if he didn’t take his time with you and let you fully adjust to something inside you.

“Tell me if you feel pain.” he grunts, sliding his finger inside you to the first knuckle. You let out a little whimper, walls clamping tightly around his finger. “Feel okay?”

You nod franticly, burying your grimaced face into his chest. “Mhmm.” You wiggle your hips, desperately trying to take more of him inside you. He follows your movements, ensuring not to slide it in any further just yet. “M-more please”

“Patience, tanhì”

You’ll admit, it burned a little. It was the biggest stretch you’ve had so far, but the slickness of your heat made it so that his finger slid in easily. “Please. It. It feels... feels weird, Ralak.”

“I know, I know.” he coos, feeling your walls relax around his knuckle. “I'm going to make it go away, take a breath for me.”

You inhale deeply, just as you would before a breathing lesson, holding it deep in your stomach rather than your chest. He slides his finger inside you to his second knuckle, keeping it there while you adjust some more. Your grip around his neck tightens, fingernails digging into his turquoise skin just as you release your breath - blowing hot air onto his chest. The way his finger stretches you out brings tears to your eyes. Tears of ecstasy - of satiation. Satiating an itch that you weren’t even aware of.

“More!” Desperation plagues your trembling voice.

He knows better than to listen to the words that come out your mouth and listen to what your body is saying to him instead. It’s not his first time dealing with a na’vi in heat, albeit by force. It feels so similar, the influence your heat has on him. But yours is so much more intense. Feelings of uncertainty creep in, muddling with all the other emotions he’s trying to deal with. He didn’t want to be used again.

She’s not her. He reminds himself, persevering through the hesitancy. “Ready?”

“Yes. Yes Ralak.” You hold on to him tighter - closer.

Your pheromones already had him in a trance, gritting his teeth just so he could maintain his composure. He’d never been influenced by pheromones like this - so strong and potent. Perhaps it’s because it’s your first heat, or maybe it’s because you’re the na’vi he has the urge to protect most – to mate with.

He finds himself taking deep, long breaths. The kind he takes before going spear fishing in the depths of the ocean. Your scent fills his head, making him woozy. Blood rushes to his face, turning it hot and flushed – stained with a tinge of pink. Oh, to make a gentle giant like Ralak blush.

He exhales as he gently slides the rest of his digit inside of your slippery pussy. You both groan in unison, just as your tightness clamps down around his finger - your nails scraping down his back. You’re so, so wet that your glossy, slick coats his knuckles, dribbling down his hand to his wrist.

“Shit.” he lets out a curse, something he rarely does. “How are you this wet?”

He really shouldn’t compare, but he’s never seen a na’vi in heat so soaked. You couldn’t help it really, your feelings for him are so strong that they feel overwhelming at times. Times like right now, where your feelings overflow and have nowhere else to go but between your legs, making a mess all over your thighs. “S-sorry” you pant, your soft, petite body shuddering in his grasp.

“Never apologize for that.”

The first curl of his finger earns a loud, sudden moan from your throat, just as his grip on the fleshiness of your thigh tightens. His cock is so painfully hard, turning veiny and almost blue. All he wants to do is replace his finger with his cock but, he can’t. Not when you’re this tight. The way your gummy walls grip so tightly around his finger makes it hard to even move it.

“Ra-lak” the word momentarily catches in your throat just as he curls his finger once more.

“Mm?” He hums, eyes squeezed shut, brows gathering.

“Ngh – feels... s-so good. Please.” you beg quietly, squeezing his waist with your legs as your body tries to shove his finger deeper inside you.

“There it is.” he grunts, listening to your body’s commands.

He roughly furls and unfurls his finger inside you, rubbing the pad of his fingertip against the warm, spongey part of your cunt. Each hook of his finger works out a squelching noise, and a breathy mewl from your mouth. Soon you’re panting into his chest, trying to keep your soft moans to a minimum as he picks up the pace.

There was really no point, as the more he fucks you out with a single finger, the more your moans lose their softness. His ears perk up higher and higher as the volume of your sweet, filthy moans grow louder and louder, making his rock-hard cock twitch against your thigh.

Your sweet spot swells with pleasure, moans becoming deeper and strained. He knows you’re close. So close that you were going to cum on his finger any minute, just by the way your pussy walls clench tightly around his finger. He feels the tension in your body, the way it seizes up, trying to fight the unbearable heat pooling in your pelvis. His dazed eyes open, scent of your pheromones wafting up his nose as he lowers his head, mouth next to the shell of your ear.

“Don’t fight it.” he whispers.

Your moans quiet down into low, laboured pants as you try to relax your tensed muscles. You’re having a hard time, and he can sense it.

“Let it happen, my paysyul. I'm right here.” he hums, using his thumb to rub loose, slow circles into your puffy clit.

“Mmmn! I-I can’t. Ra – ah haah, ngh! ‘ts t-too much – too much!” your shaky breaths hiccup as you shake your head side to side in his chest. 

“Cum for your karyu.” he encourages you, tightening the circles and picking up the speed of his thumb.

Of course, your karyu would be the one to teach you how to cum.

The sound of his husky voice in your ear sends you over the edge – heated coil unravelling, stomach muscles relaxing. It’s as if your body were responding to his command all on its own. This foreign feeling was just too good – too euphoric. You pull up suddenly from his chest, gasping for air as your entire body convulses in his grip.

“Oh, f-fuck!” you shout, tears streaming down your face.

“There you go. Good girl.” he grunts low in his chest.

He relishes in the quick flutter of your pussy walls around his finger. The way your cum dribbles down his arm. The way you’re staring into his eyes with your mouth open, releasing silent screams into the air. He can feel the beads of precum oozing from his tip, dripping down his pulsing length and onto his swollen balls.

He keeps his finger buried deep inside you, waiting patiently for you to come down from your high. Your sputtering broken words into his ear, body going limp in his grip. He could tell it was time to get you comfortable for the long night ahead. Ralak moves quickly through the storm, bringing you up to his marui.

A whine splits your lips when he tenderly pulls his finger out of you, laying you down on his bed. It’s so warm and cozy, soft sheeting fluffed up around your shivering body. You give in to the pull of your eyelids, resting them for a couple seconds. Ralak settles himself behind you, pressing his body against yours and wrapping his arms around your waist.

It feels so good, so right. The way his body completely envelopes yours, acting as your own personal shield. You back yourself up onto him, rubbing the swell of your ass on his cock – glossy from his precum. Your body moves on its own, a hand sliding down his crotch to wrap your fingers around his girth.

Fingertips barely touching one another, you stroke half the length of his cock, feeling it warm up in your hand. His breath is heavy and hot, right in the shell of your ear. He nuzzles his face into your neck, peppering wet kisses down to your shoulder. Eywa, how you wanted him to be inside you, filling you up and making you feel full.

There’s a dull ache, deep in your womb. So deep that only something this big could make it go away. Every bone and fiber in your body is screaming for you to shove his cock inside. It’s so loud you can’t ignore them anymore, the need to be fucked.

“Lak.” you mumble, half awake.

“Mm?” he hums with fervour, cock finally getting the attention it’s been begging for.

“Want you inside.” you breathe, positioning his swollen tip to your entrance.

His hips snap back, pulling himself away from you. “Not today.”

“Please.” you whine, backing up on him once more. “My body n-needs you.”

“It will hurt, tanhì.” he mumbles between kisses, holding your hips to push them away. “Another day.”

You didn’t want to take no for an answer. Your body pined for him to stretch you out and fill you up. Your back arches as you slump your head back into his shoulder, opening your neck to his kisses. “Please, please.” you beg,

“Not when you are in heat. Not when we are not mated.” he groans, reluctantly pulling his aching cock away from your soft pussy lips.

“F-fuck. I can’t take this. I can’t. It’s – it’s too much. Please, Ralak.” you whine, squirming around from the sensation in your womb, lying on your back.

“Mawey. We will get through this.” he coos, sliding his hand down your stomach to your cunt.

Instinctively, your legs spread, welcoming the fingers that slide up and down between your folds. He slides a finger in easily, hooking it right into the gummy part of your heat, slowly massaging circles into it. He grinds his cock into your thigh, coating it with his own slick as he works yet another orgasm out of you.

“Just like last time” he coaches you through it, your breathy moans increasing in volume. “Relax, and let it happen” his words bounce with the thrust of his hips, chasing his own climax against your slickened thigh. Your walls contract, just as they did when you were about to cum. And then you lose it, walls suddenly relaxing around his digit.

“Again. Listen to your body.” he grunts, planting an encouraging kiss behind your ear.

Focusing on the budding feeling, your hands grip his veiny forearm, using it as leverage to hump his hand. You let go, allowing your body to take over. Head sinking back into the softness of the bed, you grind erratically into his hand.

“I’m close – s-so close!” you cry out, eyes popping open as your body tenses.

“Good girl, ride it out.” his voice is thick with desire, shaky from the buck of his hips. He’s on the edge, forcing himself to wait for you to cum before he does. Your hips lift in the air, his hand following with them. “Go on, let go.”

“Ra – lak! Cumming! Cumming!” you release a sudden, strained whine.

Just as your pussy walls flutter around his finger, he quickly slides a second one in, masking the pain of the stretch with the pleasure of your orgasm. With two fingers deep inside your cunt, your body convulses from satiation and pleasure, feeling stuffed to the brim.  

“That’s it.” He growls low in his chest, eyes squeezing shut as he gives your thigh a few hard thrusts. Guttural noises picking up in volume and bass, he listens to his own body, spurting his warm, thick cum all over your thigh and stomach. He opens his eyes, to see a jaded look on your face as you calm down from your heat.

“I love you, my tanhì” he mumbles in your ear, fingers still inside you.

“I love you, my karyu.” you barely get out, eyelids falling shut.

He leans over you, using his free hand to grab the cloth next to his bed to clean you up with. He knew better than to take his fingers out of you, and to think that this was all over. It was only the beginning of a long night ahead.

And oh Eywa, it was.

Every few hours, you’d wake up sweating and squirming from your heat, backing yourself up onto Ralak’s warm body, begging for his touches. He’d be quick to oblige, curling the fingers that remain inside you for the entire night, making you cum as many times as you wanted. The only thing he wouldn’t give into were your pleas to be fucked. That was one thing he maintained his composure about.

----

“Y/n. For the love of Christ, you better tell me that the storm held ya up last night.” Jakes voice rings in your ear, waking you up.

Oh shit.

Tag list: @azaleaniath @jakexneytiri @sweethoneycn @deadgirl02 @keijis-wifey @pandorxxx @swiftielivvie @teyamfangirl @avatar-lover @sooebear @vanillawhale @bxnnywriting @athenachu @trashboat-the-raccoon @avaixe @qweq-6802 @girlpostingsposts @erinloversworld @agelsully @zestys-stuff @raaaaainn  @eywascall @yawneneteyam @weirdomcu @pandxrastars @eichenhouseproperty @camgod78 @kibiscribbles @bedofpearls @kurtsworld096 @audrinawf @otukirey @deexdeez @c78r @bby-bo @neteyamsmate4life @wheniseeyouigogonutz @sullymenrhot @jakescumdump @erenjaegerwifee @eywaheardyou @saturnheartz @lovekeeho @afro-hispwriter @lovemyavatar @rainbowsocks @eddiesluvt @etherialblackrose @sleepilysworld @fezandashgirlfriend @kahlowy @babyymeme @lovekeeho

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[itscherrylipsforme]

When were you planning to tell us?: Theseus Scamander x fem!reader

Summary: During their wedding your recently married friends can't stop asking questions about your "mysterious" husband. Little they know he is the same man who has been flirting with you during all the ceremony

Warnings: Drinking a little, I guess? But nothing else except that Jacob and Queenie being unaware of the world around them; Leta and Theseus ot being able to hide their chuckles; and Dumbledore being a funny smartass. Takes place after Dumbledore's secrets and in Au where Leta doesn't die and she wasn't enganged with Thesesus

Requested: yes

Words: Around 1130

Author rambles: This is kind of inspired in a wedding I attended a couple of years ago and the situation fitted quite well with the request

Masterlist Characters I write for

Likes and reblogs are appreciated ღ

I do not authorize any of my works to be copied, translated or plagiarized ✗

Bright smiles, sparky eyes and some tears of pure happiness, that was a quick and accurate way to describe most weddings. Jacob’s and Queenie’s was not an exception to this. A small and intimate ceremony on the bakery, only family and friends attending, perfect for the couple union. While the bride and the groom, now wife and husband, were looking at each other with love-dove eyes, you and the rest of the guests were enjoying the sight.

“She looks beautiful today, even more that normally” You whispered to Theseus who was by your side leaning in the desserts table.

“I still believe you were prettier in your wedding” He replied a small grin playing on his lips.

“You are a charmer with words, Theseus Scamander” Your hands slowly moved to take two glasses of champagne, handing one of them to your companion.

“Only because you deserve it, darling” He took a quick sip of the pinkish beverage, which had been Queenie’s idea.

You would have scolded him for his smarmy antics if it wasn’t for your nosy friends who had been half-listening to your talk. Yeah, a small bakery was definitely not the best place to hold a private conversation. It wasn’t long until Mr and Mrs Kowalski came to your way with a mixture of curiosity and surprise.

“y/n you never told us you had been married, honey” Queenie sweet voice echoed in your ears. The realization hit you, you had been caught.

“Actually, I still am” Thesus couldn’t help but chuckle at your words.

“And who is the lucky man?” Jacob managed to speak while taking a bite from the nuptial cake “Do we know him?”

Theseus cheeks were starting to tint in a similar tone to his hair. You wondered how an auror like him, who has supposed to be calm and stern in every situation, couldn’t stop that grin from spreading on his face right now. Luckily for the two of you, Leta Lestrange, your best friend since your Hogwarts years (your guardian angel as you should call her from now on), appeared on the scene.

“What is the fuss for?” she joined the group and thanks to her endearing smile and her ability to put the focus on herself in every situation, you could enjoy a few seconds to think what would you say next. You were so relived thanks to her entry that you didn’t even get annoyed when she playfully stole your glass of champagne.

“y/n has just told us that she is married” The bride explained enthusiastically.

“Ohh…” Great, the last thing you needed right now was another person who couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. Surprisingly, she decided to play along. After all a little fun never hurt anyone “Of course she is, I was the bridesmaid”

“Leta…” You tried to interrupt her in order to finally reveal the truth.

“Wonderful!” Queenie clapped “So you can tell us more about that mysterious husband of hers”

“Yeah y/n, you never told us anything about him” Theseus took a sip of his drink and still he couldn’t hide his smirk.

Oh, he made a big mistake… Never play games with a girl who can play them better, Scamander. You should remind him that later.

“Well, he is the perfect gentleman. Sweet, chivalrous, caring…” You dreamingly looked at the celling “But also a little bossy, stubborn, touchy too. And he always overworks himself with his job to the point its annoying” Your audience was expectant to hear more about it. Theseus tried his best not to look slightly offended while Leta patted his back.

“But you love him, don’t you?” The older Scamander brother asked, his eyes shinning hopefully. One of the many things that made you fall for him since the first day.

“With every piece of my heart” Your gaze was locked in his.

That intimate moment which had somehow grown in a room full of people faded a wide the instance the door’s bell rang, announcing Tina’s and Newt’s arrival in the bakery. God knew what they had been talking about while the rest of you were enjoying the desserts.

“Guys, you will never guess what happened” Jacob said as soon as they came to his sight.

“Y/n is married!” Queenie announced as the sweet gossiper she was.

The young magizoologist’s eyes travelled back and forwards from yours and his brother’s face, clearly confused. The elder Goldstein sister just looked unaware, waiting for an explanation.

“Of course, she is” Newt finally broke the silence “I was the best man”

“You too?” Jacob said surprised “Are we the last ones to discover this?”

“I didn’t know until today either, Mr Kowalski. Although I have been having my suspicions since you two were students. You have never been good at hiding your feelings, Miss l/n”

Dumbledore laughed from the other side of the room where he was leaning on the wall absent-mindedly eating his piece of cake. A privileged position which he took advantage of to listen to the whole discussion.

“Or should I say Mrs Scamander now? Congrats anyway, thanks to your marriage Professor McGonagall owes me ten galleons now” Gasps of shock echoed between the bakery’s walls.

Your husband made himself comfortable, his hands now proudly around your waist in a gentle grip.

“Thanks Professor” he replied.

“When did you make it official if I can ask?”

“Just after he returned from the war. We wanted to keep it simple, Newt and Leta were the only guests” You softly squeezed your husbands hand.

“And when were you planning to tell us?”

“Jacob, sweetie, focus on what is important” His wife corrected him “Why didn’t you tell us?”

You two shrugged the question off. Being honest, you had never truly hidden your union, not intentionally at least. Theseus did not wear his ring on his finger, but in a necklace around his neck. Too afraid that he would lose it in a mission due to his work as an auror; so you decided to do the same. He didn’t keep the gesture of love low-key either. Always calling you pet names or protectively staying by your side. But it was true he did the same for Leta and his brother, and that kisses were always reserved for closed doors for unknown reasons. With those reasons, it was understandable that your friends hadn’t realized sooner you were in fact married. They just took you for an old friend duo. How wrong they were, but as no correction had been said before by either of you they were still ignorant of the fact.

As they say: “Actions speak louder than words” and that was exactly what your husband did. Arms tangled around your hip and lips that were leaning for a kiss which ended up in a resounding applause. In the next years you would receive endless teasing for it, but enjoying the moment you couldn’t care any less about it.

[crystallinestars]

Unrequited Love

When he develops feelings for you, but your heart belongs to another with no hope of ever loving him back.

I'm not 100% happy with this, but it has been sitting in my drafts for a long time, so I want to finally post it. Forgive me if these are all repetitive.

WARNING: This is pure angst. No happy endings here.

Characters: Kaeya, Xiao, Alhaitham, Thoma, Zhongli, and Kaveh

🦚 Kaeya:

Kaeya has liked you ever since you were both children. Back when he and Diluc pretended to be knights of Favonius that heroically saved you and Jean from Treasure Hoarders, Kaeya had always wanted to play your knight in shining armor. When you got injured while playing and started crying, Kaeya was always the first one to comfort you and help patch up your scrapes and bruises. His little crush on you prompted him to look out for you and protect you from harm to the best of his ability.

As the years passed, that crush developed into full-fledged love. After Kaeya’s falling out with Diluc, you were the only person remaining whom he considered a close friend and confidant. Despite how much he tried to distance himself from you, you wouldn’t have any of it, and persistently wormed your way into his life. You worked hard to keep your friendship alive by giving Kaeya the companionship he craved, and served as a shoulder for him to lean on during his lowest moments. When faced with your sincerity, acceptance, and kindness, how could Kaeya not fall even deeper in love with you?

He lived life by distancing himself from others. He didn’t want to be abandoned and hurt again the same way when his father left him all alone in Mondstadt as a child all those years ago. Kaeya didn’t want to grow attached to people and then suffer when those bonds inevitably broke, just like they did when Diluc shunned him once he revealed the truth about his origins. Kaeya knew better than that, yet your presence made him harbor hope that perhaps you were different.

You’ve known each other since childhood, so Kaeya naturally trusted you more than most. You had a deep bond of understanding and acceptance that made Kaeya hope that maybe he could find unconditional love with you. To have you by his side, being his sole light in this dark world, is all he ever wanted. To have just one person he can let down his walls around and bare his broken self to. These rosy fantasies floated in his mind whenever you were together, warming and soothing his scarred heart.

He should have known better, but he paid the price for his foolish hopes.

When you told Kaeya that you and Diluc got together, it felt as if a bucket of cold water was dumped on him. The sweet, golden fantasies were shattered, replaced with the harsh reality that you didn’t feel the same way about him.

Truly, he should have expected this outcome.

As children, Kaeya had wanted to be your knight in their games of pretend, but it was always Diluc who beat him to the punch. His brother was always the one to save you from the imaginary bad guys and be your hero, while Kaeya faded into the background and was forced to watch as you kissed Diluc’s cheek in thanks.

Kaeya was the first to comfort you when you got injured, but it was always Diluc who ultimately cheered you up and restored your smile. When his relationship with his brother became strained, most of your attention was focused on Diluc who was mourning the loss of his father, not on Kaeya who had also lost Krepus.

To you, Kaeya always came second, and this time was no exception.

Though the news shattered his heart, Kaeya expertly masked his pain with a smile. If you wanted to be just friends, then so be it. He would accept anything you gave him because he craved any scrap of your affection that badly. Your presence comforted him in a way nothing else did, not even his favorite Death After Noon which he resorted to when he wanted to numb the sorrow and forget the painful memories, if only for a few hours. He didn’t want to lose the care and gentleness you showed him, even if it meant suffering through the heartache of knowing that your acts of kindness towards him weren’t out of romantic love. Kaeya could tolerate it, he was sure. He would move on and learn to be happy for you and his brother.

Even if his conversations with Diluc became more awkward because as much as he tried to hide his heartbreak, Diluc knew Kaeya was suffering deep down, he would still smile and try to be happy.

Even if he felt bile rise in his throat when he watched you and Diluc share a kiss and profess your love, Kaeya would smile because you must never learn of his secret romantic feelings for you. His unwanted feelings.

Even if he silently cried alone at home after attending your wedding, grasping at his chest where his aching heart was and downing glass after glass of liquor, Kaeya will plaster on that same smile.

Even if his unrequited love for you never waned no matter how many years passed, Kaeya will continue to wear a smile and act happy for you despite his heart still longing for your love.

Maybe he can’t ever be genuinely happy for you and his brother, but he can at least pretend to be.

👹 Xiao:

Xiao knew that befriending a human like you would only lead to disaster. No matter how many times he warned you to stay away from him because his karma would hurt you, you didn’t listen and continued to visit the lonely adeptus.

Xiao should have put an end to your visits by disappearing and relocating somewhere you wouldn’t be able to find him, but he didn’t. Something in him wanted to stay with you despite his better judgment. The way you brought him new trinkets and foods to try was endearing, albeit a waste of your time since Xiao seldom liked anything you brought.

He wasn’t sure why you were so adamant about befriending him, and when asked, you simply said that he seemed lonely and in need of a friend. Xiao found your reasoning naïve and even foolish since you were putting yourself in danger over an altruistic impulse, but no matter how much he pushed you away, you didn’t give up on him. You were persistent in your attempts to befriend the lonely adeptus, easily seeing through him. He only pushed you away because he was scared, not because he hated you.

Xiao wasn’t sure when exactly it happened, but one day he caught himself looking forward to your visits. He anticipated your arrival, patiently waiting for the moment he when would hear the familiar sound of your footsteps that made his heart race. His breath hitched and cheeks flushed when you smiled at him or playfully teased him. Anything you did sent his heart aflutter. Xiao was utterly smitten with you, yet he didn’t know what to do about these feelings. For now, he was content to simply let them be and enjoy these peaceful and happy days with you. He would explore these warm and airy feelings at his own pace and see where they lead.

However, these delicate emotions quickly turned as heavy as a boulder when you announced that you found a lover.

Xiao was surprised by the news since he didn’t think you had someone else you were as close to as him, if not more so. In hindsight, he should have expected it. You were a warm and friendly person, so it was only natural that you had other people you were close to in your life. This was how things should be. An adeptus like him did not belong by your side.

Though he was aware that it was for the best for you to find love and settle down with a fellow human, something inside Xiao’s chest ached at the thought. He was disappointed that he was not as special to you as he perceived, but he tried his best to ignore the pain and disappointment by burying them deep inside his heart. He tried to maintain the same demeanor he always did around you, but even you could tell that he seemed bothered by something. The way he became more reserved and aloof around you tipped you off that something weighed on his mind.

When you pressed him about it, he reluctantly confessed that he thought you would stop seeing him as much due to your new love. Despite your reassurances that you still wanted him around, as time progressed, you visited Xiao less and less often. You still brought him gifts and foods to try, but this time supplemented by comments about how your boyfriend Gaming gave them to you to try and give to your friends. Most of your conversations were no longer about your life anymore, instead now revolving around Gaming.

Your less frequent visits worried Xiao, so he sometimes stopped by Liyue Harbor to check in on you to see if you were alright. That was how Xiao found himself observing the progression of your relationship with Gaming.

As he watched you stroll around the harbor with the cheerful boy, Xiao found himself yearning to be the one you looped your arms around.

To be the one to make you smile and laugh.

To be the one to hold your hand and kiss you sweetly on the lips.

He wanted to be in Gaming’s shoes and discover what it’s like to be loved by you. However, each and every time, he shoved those thoughts and desires into the farthest recess of his mind, locking them away. He will not interfere, it is not his place. It’s better for everyone if you don’t love him. You would only get hurt being around him if you do. As a human, you would inevitably get hurt by his karma, and Xiao would never forgive himself if that happened.

If one day you drifted apart because you no longer had time for him, Xiao would accept it. It will hurt, but he will accept it.

It’s better this way, he tells himself. It’s better for you to love a fellow human, especially one that treats you right and makes you happy the way Gaming does. It didn’t matter if he wasn’t the one to give you happiness—all that ultimately mattered was that you were happy, even if not with him. Not that he truly believed he could make you happy…

He’s too dangerous to be worthy of your love, so it’s better this way…

It’s better this way.

🎧 Alhaitham:

When Alhaitham invited you over to his house, he never imagined that he was setting himself up for utter heartache. The number of times he invited a person over can be counted on one hand, yet you were one of the chosen few who piqued his interest enough to invite you to his private space. You were not a genius like him, but that did not matter. You understood his worldview and didn’t criticize him for his introverted personality, which he appreciated. Plus, you weren’t afraid to stand up to him if you thought he was being too cold or antisocial, and actively challenged him to step out of his comfort zone every now and then.

Having invited you to his house, you inevitably met his mess of a roommate. When you and Kaveh instantly hit it off, Alhaitham thought nothing of it at the time. The two of you got along, and Kaveh nagged at him less which was good enough for him.

However, with Kaveh being introduced into your life, your unusual friendship with Alhaitham started to change. Whenever you expressed a desire to come over or hang out with Alhaitham, you would always ask if Kaveh could join. Every time you met up with Alhaitham to share literature or get a cup of coffee, your topic of conversation would deviate to Kaveh.

The Scribe was no fool, and he could instantly tell that you developed feelings for his roommate. Something weighed heavy in his chest at that realization, but he chose not to ponder on that feeling too much, and simply brushed it aside. Alhaitham believed in letting people have free will over the development of their lives, so he didn’t stop you from seeking out the company of the architect, even when it resulted in you canceling plans with him.

Kaveh expressed similar behavior to you, constantly asking and talking about you like a schoolboy with a crush. It didn’t take much for the Scribe to figure out that the architect returned your romantic feelings. At the back of his mind, Alhaitham knew what this could result in, but even if something in him disliked the idea, he let things play their natural course. He figured you would know better than to go for Kaveh, a person plagued with deep-rooted issues that not just anyone could deal with.

It was only when he came home one day to find you cuddling up to and kissing Kaveh did that heavy feeling return with a vengeance. The sight of your happy smiles, the sound of your laughter, and the knowledge that Kaveh made you happier than you could ever be with him, weighed heavy on his chest like a boulder. It was difficult to breathe.

However, Alhaitham remained the picture of indifference and carried on to his room. You and Kaveh only spared him with a brief greeting before returning to your little romantic bubble, none the wiser about how the Scribe felt. Alhaitham himself didn’t know what he was feeling, and it wasn’t until much later when he was struggling to focus on reading his book did it finally hit him that he was heartbroken. His chest felt heavy with sadness and disappointment because he loved you, yet you did not want his love.

The realization came far too late, and Alhaitham was left with no choice but to accept that you would not be his. Maybe if he realized his feelings sooner the outcome would have been different? Maybe if he never invited you over, you wouldn’t have fallen for Kaveh? These questions, among various others, plagued him like a bad aftertaste in his mouth.

It was too late to change anything. You made your choice, and Alhaitham will respect it.

He hid his heartache behind an aloof demeanor and curt responses, going about his days as usual. It would be best if both you and Kaveh never found out about his unrequited love to avoid unnecessary drama and complications. Even if some days it was difficult to push down the heavy feelings pressing on his chest, Alhaitham hid them well.

The only times his carefully crafted facade cracks is when you hang out with just him, lost in your own thoughts or distracted by an activity, unaware that Alhaitham is looking at you. If anyone took the time to study his gaze, they would see that despite his stoic expression, Alhaithm’s eyes reflected pure yearning and sadness. As soon as you looked at him, though, he would quickly look away to avoid you finding out the truth.

He will respect your decision, even if it hurts him.

He will hide his pain to protect your happiness and friendship.

🍡 Thoma:

Ever since he first met you, Thoma knew you were off-limits. You were Ayato’s fiancée, after all. As attractive as he found you, he couldn’t get too close to you since you were already taken. He should have been content with simply befriending and serving you the way he served Ayaka and Ayato.

At first, he was.

Ever since being introduced to him, you were placed in Thoma’s care to have the loyal retainer familiarize you with the Kamisato estate and the workings of the Clan when Ayato was too busy to do so. Thoma could tell you were out of your element being engaged to someone of high political and social standing like his Lord, so he did his best to ease your nerves and help you acclimate to your new home. He surmised that being isolated in such a large manor with none of your usual friends and family around must have been lonely, so he chose to become your first friend at the estate.

Thoma regularly snuck you out to play with stray cats and dogs, and watched your face light up in a joyous smile when the animals sought out your affection. Thoma also taught you the ropes about acting like a noble. Due to your nerves, you sometimes made mistakes, but Thoma always helped you feel better by laughing off your blunders. When you expressed a desire to see your family and friends, Thoma accompanied you to the city and served as your protector. He knew what it felt like to be stranded away from family since he was separated from his mother in Mondstadt long ago, and he didn’t want you to miss your family the way he did.

Somewhere along the way, Thoma caught feelings.

He didn’t realize it immediately. It just hit him one day when he watched you and Ayato share an intimate moment on the veranda. He felt jealous and protective of you as he watched Ayato tenderly stroke your cheek and lean in for a kiss.

Thoma didn’t hate Ayato for being the one to capture your heart. He owed a lot to both the Kamisato siblings for accepting an immigrant like him and giving him a place to belong when nobody else in Inazuma did. He is eternally grateful to them for that. For this reason, his jealousy was quickly replaced with shame and guilt because he shouldn’t have feelings for you. You were Ayato’s fiancée, he knew that. You already have someone else in your heart, someone whom Thoma serves out of a sense of respect and loyalty. He would never have it in him to ruin the idyllic happiness shared between you and his Lord.

With no other option, Thoma chooses to keep his feelings for you hidden. He plays the role of your best friend perfectly, being mindful of not touching you unnecessarily or for longer than is appropriate, no matter how much he wants to. He maintains a respectful distance between you, both physically and figuratively.

Though he brushes aside your occasional puzzled glance at his sudden change in behavior, Ayato knows. Thoma can fool you, but he can’t fool Ayato. His Lord knows what’s really brewing behind the surface of the blond’s cheerful smile.

But Thoma steps back and shows Ayato that he has no intentions of getting in the way of his relationship with you. You do not love him the way you love Ayato, and that is the reality of the situation. If you want Thoma to be your friend, then he will happily remain as one, no matter how much his heart bleeds to not mean something more to you.

Thoma will smile for you, so you won’t know that something is wrong. Because nothing is wrong, he thinks. His feelings are not necessary, and he will do his best to move on to not impede the happiness of his Lord and yourself.

The only time he slipped up was when he tucked away a stray strand of your hair on your wedding day. His fingers brushed against the soft skin of your cheek for a bit longer than appropriate, but quickly pulled away to not rouse your suspicion any further. Wishing you luck, Thoma saw you off with that same warm smile plastered on his face as you prepared to meet up with Ayato to begin the wedding ceremony.

He will smile for you. Even if his heart feels like it’s being torn apart, and there’s a thick lump in his throat that makes it hard for him to speak, the least Thoma could do is smile. He will support you on your road to happiness, even if it’s not with him.

🔶 Zhongli:

Zhongli had met many people during his very long life, but few left as deep of an impression on him as you did. You were an ordinary human, a friend of Hu Tao’s he occasionally saw when you stopped by to chat with the funeral director. At first glance, there wasn’t anything particularly outstanding about you, but Zhongli found himself drawn to your energy.

When Hu Tao introduced you to him, he took an immediate liking to you and your boundless curiosity for the knowledge and stories he had to share. It was no secret that Zhongli was wise and well-informed about many things, and you saw him as a source of trivia and riveting tales about events long past.

Your undivided attention and bright eyes endeared you to Zhongli, and the god grew fond of you. He invited you to more outings where he shared interesting stories and answered any questions you had about anything at all. He had fun in your presence and was delighted to be called your dear friend.

Zhongli was well aware that there were deeper feelings brewing in his heart for you, but he was in no rush to explore or act upon them. He was content to take his time and allow your relationship with him to develop at a natural pace. Perhaps one day the two of you would grow even closer, and he would divulge his greatest secret to you about his hidden identity. For now, he would accompany you around Liyue as your friend, and share his boundless knowledge with you.

When you suddenly started zoning out during one of his long-winded speeches, he wondered if something was weighing on your mind. At first, you sheepishly brushed his concern away, saying it was nothing. When you began canceling your dates with Zhongli and scheduling fewer of them than usual, his concern deepened. When he asked for the reason behind these changes, your answer left him conflicted.

It was a charming young man from Snezhnaya, you divulged to Zhongli. A young man going by the name Tartaglia, with eyes the deepest blue you’ve ever seen, sporting a striking red scarf and mask that made him easy to spot in a crowd. Zhongli instantly knew you were talking about Childe, the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger.

He warned you about the dangers of associating yourself with a man like Tartaglia, but that didn’t stop you from meeting the Harbinger on a regular basis. You were enamored with that Snezhnayan rascal, and Zhongli could do nothing but watch as you abandoned his company in favor of Childe’s. You still considered Zhongli as a friend and tried to make time for him, but spurred by your romantic feelings, you chose to prioritize Tartaglia over the former archon.

Watching you run off to be with another man left a bitter feeling in the back of Zhongli’s throat, akin to the bitterness of green tea. But perhaps, things were better off this way. You were a human, whereas Zhongli was a god. He was an ancient being that had lived thousands of years and would continue to live for hundreds if not thousands more, long after your death. He does not age the way you do, not to mention that him being not human might put you off.

Yes, it was better for you to be with someone of your own kind, even if Zhongli disapproved of the man you had chosen. However, seeing how happy you were with Tartaglia, perhaps he was wrong about the impulsive Harbinger. Childe spoiled you with gifts and meals, took you out to see new sights that Zhongli could not, and gave you a vast array of new experiences that the ancient god couldn’t hope to give you. Not to mention, Childe was a fierce and reliable protector, so despite his dangerous occupation, you were in safe hands.

You smiled more with Tartaglia than you ever did with Zhongli, and he knew that he had lost. There were very few battles Zhongli had faced defeat in throughout his long life of fighting wars, but battles of the heart were not his forte. In the battlefield of love, he was the obvious loser. At least, he could accept that fact.

Or so he thought.

The day you announced you were leaving Liyue to go live with Tartaglia in Snezhnaya, made Zhongli’s blood run cold.

Zhongli had lost many people he held dear to him, so he was used to the pain and heartache that came with loss. It still inevitably hurt, but he knew how to cope with that loss better. Losing you was a different sort of heartache, though. Knowing there was a possibility he could see you, yet being denied that privilege because your love for another man was far stronger than your attachment to anything in Liyue was a bitter pill to swallow.

Just like all the other friends and comrades he had to part with, you were also leaving his life, yet your departure was voluntary. You simply did not need him anymore. Not the way he needed you, at least. You made your decision, and Zhongli will respect it, even if something in him is screaming to convince you to stay, to not leave him for good.

He sees you off with a carefully crafted smile and all the best wishes for your future in another land. As a parting gift, he gives you a beautifully ornate hairpin. A token of your friendship, he called it, though in reality, it was his unspoken love confession. Even if you never pick up on the hidden meaning, that was alright. As long as you kept his gift, a piece of his heart would always be with you.

🍷 Kaveh:

To Kaveh, you were a warm ray of light. Whenever he felt down due to bad customers or haunting memories about his father’s untimely death, you would always be there to get him out of his depressive state and prevent him from overindulging in alcohol. You knew how to get through to him when Alhaitham couldn’t, simply by speaking with empathy and gentleness towards him, which is something Kaveh greatly appreciated. Having been faced with tragedy after tragedy, and Alhaitham’s constant harsh criticisms, your gentleness was like a soothing balm to his wounded heart.

Against his wishes, Kaveh fell in love with you. How could he not when you were so understanding and kind? He knew your relationship with him was strictly platonic, but a part of him hoped that maybe you loved him too. That maybe the two of you could be more than friends.

Being a romantic, Kaveh had daydreamed about you a lot, doodling pictures of you in his sketchbook while spinning fantasies about being in a romantic relationship with you. He pictured all the various dates he would take you on, how he would lean in to kiss you for the first time, how he would profess his undying love and hear you say those same three words back to him.

“I love you.”

The day he got to hear you say those words did come, but unlike in his fantasies, your words were not directed at Kaveh. No, instead, you said them to Alhaitham.

It felt like something out of a bad dream the way Kaveh had accidentally stumbled upon your intimate moment with Alhaitham while stepping out of his room to get a drink. He stood behind the corner, getting a glimpse of you straddling Alhaitham’s lap on the living room couch, yet going unnoticed by either of you.

Hearing your earnest confession of love directed at Alhaitham of all people, made his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. Bile rose to his throat when Alhaitham awkwardly reciprocated your feelings and cupped your face in a tender gesture that Kaveh didn’t know the Scribe was even capable of. Once you started to lean closer to Alhaitham’s face, Kaveh quickly made it back to his room, slamming the door shut in his haste to get away from that sight. The loud sound alerted the both of you to his presence, but Kaveh was too heartbroken to care.

What followed were weeks of agonizing turmoil. Kaveh knew he should be happy for Alhaitham. The antisocial Scribe deserved to be happy with someone he loved, but a part of him felt resentful that you chose Alhaitham over him. His fights with Alhaitham became more frequent. Kaveh nitpicked everything Alhaitham did out of jealousy, sparking conflicts that were not as easily waved away and forgotten as before. That resentment turned into guilt as Kaveh felt like a horrible person and friend for being jealous. He didn’t want to argue with Alhaitham, but he couldn’t help himself when his emotions were such a mess. He couldn’t control the impulses.

Alhaitham wasn’t stupid and quickly figured out that Kaveh was lashing out at him because of his broken heart. He had known about Kaveh’s feelings for you. The architect didn’t even try to hide his infatuation towards you, and talked about you at length to him. But you had made your choice: you gave your heart to Alhaitham, not Kaveh, and Kaveh needed to respect that. Alhaitham didn’t mince his words when he told Kaveh he needed to let go of his feelings for you because you weren’t romantically interested in him, but instead of helping, it only hurt Kaveh worse.

Of course you chose Alhaitham and not him. Compared to Alhaitham, he had no money to speak of, no house, and a mountain of debt. Moreover, he tended to overindulge in alcohol and get moody easily, plus you often told him that he hurt you with his self-destructive behaviors… It was only reasonable that Alhaitham would be a better choice in your eyes. After all, he will never be good enough for you. Not a failure like him.

You would always be an unattainable light he will admire from afar but never touch because someone like him is unworthy of you. He’s unworthy of your love—your kindness, even—and you deserve someone much, much better who can truly make you happy.

Kaveh knew all that, yet it didn’t stop his heart from shattering to pieces every time he saw you with his roommate. It felt like his heart was pierced with multiple shards of glass every time he saw you give affection to Alhaitham, those same hugs and kisses he daydreamed about having with you, but he didn’t let it show. Kaveh would pull on a strained smile and pretend that everything was okay, pretend that he was genuinely happy for you. He truly wanted to be. Dear god did he try to be, but he could not. It hurt too much to see you with another.

When the pain became too much, Kaveh started to visit Lambad’s Tavern on a frequent basis. He wasn’t proud of himself for reverting back to his bad habit of getting blackout drunk to drown out his pain and sorrow, but it was the only thing that helped him cope with the heartache.

Kaveh would drink heavily almost on a daily basis. Lambad became witness to the many times Kaveh broke down crying, and many other times when he would laugh in a self-deprecating manner and smile wryly while muttering something under his breath.

The architect had to be regularly escorted home by his friends, preferably someone other than Alhaitham because Kaveh became quite volatile when the Scribe came to take his drunk friend home. So one time, you came to take him home. Kaveh's recent avoidance of you had become worrisome, and Alhaitham wouldn’t tell you why.

While carrying the plastered blond back to your boyfriend’s house, in his drunken haze, Kaveh had confessed to you. He babbled about how much he loved you, that he was sorry he wasn’t worthy of you, and how much he wished to be loved by you the same way.

He’s sorry he can’t be a good friend to you because of his feelings.

He’s sorry he’s such a mess.

He’s sorry. So very sorry.