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rogue-durin-16 · 3 years

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THINGS NEVER GO AS PLANNED (Part II/VII)

"candy floss"

Summary: After Fred's death, George and Y/n lean on each other to carry on. This wasn't the most brilliant idea, though; George was pretty much in love with the girl, and Y/n— well, she had been dating Fred prior to the Battle of Hogwarts.

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

Suggested by: @crispykittywitch

Things never go as planned: @sarcasticallywitty15 @beautyschoo1dropout @s1ut4georgeweasley @leovaldez37 @missmulti @weasleywh0r3s

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: grief, feels, brief mention of Fred x Reader ig?

A/N: I decided to name the parts bc why the fuck not so keep an eye on the titles 👀. This story is based off this convo and these headcanons. If you wanna be tagged in the next parts tell me, and enjoy <3

Prologue :the aftermath

Part I : sleepless nights

Part III: shock therapy

Part IV: wrong name

Part V: the perfect excuse

Part VI: the downfall

Part VII: apart

Epilogue: I still love you

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

The moment the last group of customers decided it was time to call it a day and exited the shop, I left the till counter and grabbed my wand from my pocket, instantly turning the sign in the door so it could be read from outside 'closed'.

A sigh escaped my lips as I leaned against the multicolored wooden rail.

I was drained.

The shop helped our minds to get distracted and stray from the grief, yes, but it was also exhausting.

We had been subconsciously overworking ourselves to the point where it was borderline self-destructive.

It didn't help that I was throwing myself into comforting George, either. I could not be blamed for doing that, though; he was broken.

A part of me, the rational one, knew he would pick up the pieces and build himself up again, it would just take a lot of time.

There was another part of me, though, that depressed, drained part, that was beginning to think he would never heal by himself —maybe he wouldn't heal at all— but still held onto the hope that, if I tried hard enough, I would be able to mend what had been broken in him.

A terrible idea, really, because I started to dismiss in its entirety my own miserable, damaged state.

And George, ever the caring, sensible one, would have noticed that; he would have made me realize I was not doing nearly as well as I thought, he would have talked some sense into me, but he wouldn't— he couldn't, because George was lost in an ocean of grief, trying so hard not to drown that he wasn't able to notice I was trying to aid him from my very own sinking boat.

It also seemed to be working; he was more animated, slept more soundly, and his smile was a bit brighter even —at least the one he had for me.

"Rough day?" My eyes, which I didn't know I had closed, fluttered open at George's voice.

"Very."

He walked to me with a tinge of guilt in his face. "You know we can switch places, right?" I had been working as the public face of the shop since we had reopened, and George had taken on the task of doing the paperwork and shippings instead, showing up from time to time to help me and to let people know there was still a Weasley running the business.

I had been the one to suggest this, since I knew George had compromised with reopening only because of me, and he was clearly not ready to put up a sociable, positive attitude for dozens of people every day.

"Nah, it's fine like this." I assured him with a reassuring smile.

He measured me with his eyes for a second; I couldn't really tell if he saw through me or not. "So I was preparing the today's shippings," he rocked a tiny purple basket I quickly recognised in front of me. "I found this in the back of the stockroom."

"Are those—?"

"Candy floss cupcakes, yes." A year and a half ago we had bought five baskets of candy floss cupcakes from Honeydukes per George's request in order to unsuccessfully try and implement them.

"Are they even edible anymore?" I couldn't help but laugh.

"I hope so?" He chuckled too, tearing the film covering the sweets. "Thought we might as well finish them."

My eyes travelled from the basket to him and viceversa before stating, "well I'm hungry so..."

"Same here." He was the first one to pull out a pastel colored cupcake, though he handed it to me. "Wanna get food poisoning together?" Laughing, I gave him a nod as he grabbed his own cupcake. "At the count of three?"

"One"

"Two"

"Three." We said in unison right before taking a bite of our respective madeleines.

I frowned at its surprisingly good flavour. "Am I delirious or are they actually edible?"

"Dunno," he shoved the rest of his cupcake into his mouth with a shrug. "maybe we're just starving."

"Go big or go home, I guess." I finished my cupcake before leaning on the basket to pick another one. My head snapped up with my brow quirked when I heard a soft chuckle. "What?"

"Nothing." George shook his head, motioning at the stairs. "Shall we sit down?" I followed his lead, sitting on the stairs and waiting for him, who had stepped towards the drinks aisle to grab a couple of juice bottles, to do the same.

We stayed there, eating and drinking in a comfortable silence until the basket was empty and our eyelids threatened to shut.

"I think we should head back to the flat." He spoke, leaving the half empty juice aside so he could stretch.

"I'm gonna learn how to cook." I stated, getting up. "We can't get by based on most likely expired sweets and whatever is in the Leaky Cauldron menu."

"Aight." He mimicked my actions, picking up the stuff we left on the stairs. "We will learn the basics tomorrow." He got behind me and began to gently push in the flat's direction. "But now we're gonna get some sleep, miss."

I would be lying if I said my heartbeat didn't pick up when his hands landed on my shoulder blades and made their way to rub both my arms reassuringly.

I would be lying if I denied I leaned back when he did that, letting myself get closer to his chest.

And I would definitely be lying if I said I didn't crave going back to my room so I could cuddle him all night.

One Week Later

"—right in the cauldron, love." I pointed at the cauldron besides me, giving a sweet smile to the kid in front of me, visibly going to be sick thanks to the free sample of Skiving Snackboxes.

"Y/n!" I spun around at the loud calling of my name above the shop's racket. I was able to discern a long, red mane flowing fast towards my position right on time for the owner to wrap her arms around me.

"Glad to see you too, Ginny." I laughed, trying not to lose balance due to her enthusiasm. "How come you're here?" I questioned, pulling away.

"We heard you were open." Harry walked up to me, appearing from behind the girl, "And thought we'd pay a visit to our friends, right?" Ginny nodded, looking around while Harry gave me a quick, yet comforting hug. "Where's George?"

I motioned up to the small office, redirecting the couple's eyes to the second floor. "Doing paperwork—AH!" I jolted when a pair of hands tickled my sides, my head snapping to see the towering ginger standing behind me. "Speaking of the devil."

"I thought I saw Gin through the window," George explained, his hands lingering on my waist for long enough to his sister to stare, before pulling Ginny into a tight hug. "And came down to check if she was distracting my employee."

"You got her all bored here, mate." Harry pointed out, a light joking tone in his voice.

"And you're the one supposed to help with that?" George rolled his eyes dramatically. "Pfft... What a world we live in." With the said, he gave the boy a side hug. I heard Harry murmur an 'We missed you' before they pulled away with a pat on the shoulder.

My gaze landed on the youngest Weasley, whose welled up eyes were trained on her older brother's half smile. I only averted my eyes and waited for her to discreetly wipe away the unspilled tears while Harry and George catched up.

By the letters she had sent me, I reckoned the last time she had been near George, he had been lifeless; seeing a glimpse of who was once one of the most cheerful, funny and charismatic people in her life, was probably poignant to Ginny.

I hadn't realized she had moved closer until I didn't hear her soft voice. "Thank you." I offered her a confused smile, though deep down I knew what she meant.

Two Days Later

George was having one of those days.

We both knew it was coming soon; it had to happen sooner rather than later, since he had been in a surprisingly good mood for almost a week. I suspected seeing Harry and Ginny had brought back the events of the Second of May.

I suggested to close the shop for the day, since he was unable to move out of bed; he refused to do so, but I convinced him to stay in the flat and rest —it was Tuesday, anyway; I wouldn't have to handle many customers.

Due to that, when I saw Hermione, Ron, Bill and Fleur entered the shop, it was understandable that I hadn't become the happiest person in the world.

I greeted them, there were hugs, kisses, and even a joke or two, and when Bill asked about George, I excused him without giving much detail.

They understood.

Fleur was the one to restart the conversation, lightening a bit before requesting a tour for the shop, since she had not yet been there.

It was when we reached the love potions that Hermione, using the fact that Fleur was very much interested in the product, held my hand and pulled me aside.

"So... how are you doing?" The frown in her face, the fact that she was whispering, the squeeze her hand gave mine, let me know she had read me the moment her eyes met mines.

I sighed with a shrug.

"You can tell me." Could I? "No one's asking you to put on a happy face, Y/n." The girl assured me, her eyes digging into mines. "It's not just George, we all lost—" she shook her head at her own words before correcting herself. "you lost him too."

I lost him too.

I bit my lower lip to stop it from quivering.

The memory of Fred's broken smile as his corpse laid on the stretcher, that memory that haunted my dreams, appeared vividly before my eyes.

My lips started to burn with the ghost of that kiss he gave me before we split up, him with Percy and me with George; it hadn't been meant to be a goodbye kiss. It was meant to be a good luck kiss.

I covered my mouth to muffle a sob, and Hermione's arms were quick to be wrapped around me, reassuringly rubbing my back.

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

I saw them entering from Y/n's balcony; I wasn't emotionally ready to face them all at the same time, but when I didn't see them exit, I figured Y/n hadn't been able to dismiss them.

I decided I owed to them all to bite the bullet, so I threw on a shirt and the first trousers I grabbed, cleaned up a bit and left the flat.

With a deep breath, I made it to the second floor and mentally prepared myself to go down to the first one.

As I began to climb down, though, I noticed Hermione and Y/n talking in private, closer than the others to the stairs.

I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but all my senses were automatically focused on Y/n whenever we were in the same room; she just stole me away from reality.

"You lost him too."

Hermione's words visibly triggered something on Y/n.

'Something', as if I didn't know what they had triggered, as if I didn't know what— who was on her mind.

I guess he was always on her mind, though.

What was left of my heart shattered in a million pieces when she broke down to tears —for several reasons—. "I miss him." She whispered in Hermione's shoulder. "I miss him so much."

If I had any tears left, I would have cried my eyes out right there. Had I been so selfish that I had disregarded how she was feeling? So blinded by the light and love and warmth she was constantly giving me that I had forgotten about her grief? Was I that bad of a person, that I would have rather live in the illusion that she had not lost the boy she was dating?

My mind told me I didn't want any of those questions answered.

"George!" As Ron yelled my name in surprise, Hermione and Y/n pulled away, the latter rubbing her eyes while both of my brothers jogged upstairs to hug me. "Ginny told us you're open—"

"But Y/n said you weren't feeling well." Bill finished, squeezing my shoulder. "We only stayed a little longer for Fleur to see the shop."

"Yeah, we'll come back tomorrow," Ron assured me. "So you can rest and..."

My brother's voice sounded further and further with each word; I felt myself drifting off, getting lost in my own mind and gravitating towards the same thought over and over.

She deserves better.

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animebaby00 · 3 years

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I Don't Deserve It: Chapter 3 (FINAL)

When Shoto gets a nasty stomach bug, Izuku stops at nothing to take care of him.

But Shoto can't help but wonder why ?

(Link to Chapter 1): ⬇️

(Link to Chapter 2): ⬇️

The few times Shoto had forgotten to brush his teeth before bed had left him with an absolutely disgusting taste in his mouth the next morning.

However, that taste was NOTHING in comparison to the absolutely sickening, bitter, revolting, acidic flavor that coated his tongue once he woke up.

He pursed his lips sourly, positive that even the flavor of actual vomit coming up wasn't as bad as this. It was almost at the point of making him feel nauseous all over again, but with nothing in his stomach, it was just a mild queasiness.

He harshly blinked his eyes, taking note of the yellowish gleam in the room. It still must have been day time,but later afternoon due to the position of the shadows casted along the wall.

How long had he been asleep?

He sat up slightly, decently warm due to the blankets covering his form, but he wasn't overly hot, nor suffering from chills. He actually felt...better. Well, better than this morning at least.

But he still ached to rid his mouth of the bitter after tastes from earlier.

Shoto heaved himself up more, relieved that his body didn't act against him like it did several times before, and he was actually able to sit up without much protest. However, right when he did, the click of a door sounded in his ear and he caught sight of Midoriya reentering his room, a large, brown tray balanced on his arm.

This whole entire situation was turning into one of deja vu.

Midoriya made it about halfway into his room before he noticed Shoto's wakened presence, his eyes immediately perking up with a gleam of happiness once he did.

"Ah, Todoroki. You're awake." He said, a soft smile gracing his lips.

Shoto nodded, "Y-yeah." He looked back at the curtained window, " How uh...how long was I out?"

"About 4 hours. I was going to wake you up when I came back in here but I guess I won't need to," sock covered feet padded over to the bed and he leaned down to set the tray on the bed's edge, keeping his gaze upward as he did so, "How are you feeling ?"

Shoto's eyes widened a bit.

Such a simple question to answer, but to him, it felt highly difficult.

He knew it was just a simple inquiry about his wellbeing...but it was rare that he had ever been asked "how he was feeling".

He could say that he felt 100% better, say that he could leave Midoriya be and apologize for the unnecessary trouble. However, as proven from earlier, Midoriya was highly analytical (about the most odd things he may add) so he knew that if he tried to lie, the boy would no doubt be able to deduct it. It wasn't a complete lie though. He did feel better but-

"Not...too bad" he answered, noticing that even his voice sounded better, and he was deeply relieved by that "Not as bad as before."

Midoriya grinned "I'm happy to hear that !"

Shoto was a bit puzzled by the boy's eagerness, but that feeling completely diminished once he noticed Midoriya moving closer to him. His hand was slowly raising up, and in no time, it found a place against the skin of his forehead.

He froze in his place

"Well, you definitely look better." Midoriya concluded, "And your fever came down. I think you just caught that 24 hour stomach bug that's been going around."

Shoto blinked, "Stomach bug ?"

The freckled boy nodded, "Mmhm. I guess we've been so busy with our hero work and school that we didn't really notice it. But it doesn't last long." He pulled his hand away, "You should feel better by tomorrow, but make sure you take it easy."

Shoto watched as Midoriya reached over to grab a water bottle from the tray at the end of the bed, "Here, you should probably drink something after getting so sick. Don't need you getting dehydrated, but make sure you drink it slow. Are you still feeling nauseous at all ? Or dizzy? I brought some medicine if you are."

Shoto put a hand to his stomach, feeling slightly uneasy in answering.

He stayed silent, and a frown immediately crossed over onto Midoriya's face.

"Todoroki ? Are you okay ?" He asked frantically, tossing the water bottle to the side,"Are you feeling sick again ? Do you need the-"

"Why are you doing this?"

The question seemed to linger in the air. It was quiet for several seconds as Midoriya's face fell completely blank.

He slowly sat back down.

"What do you mean?"

Shoto looked down at his lap, "You know," he mumbled, gesturing to himself, the bed, and the tray at his feet, "All of this. Bringing me to your room, cleaning up the mess I made,the cold rag, bringing me water and medicine…"

"Helping me." He thought, but didn't say. Damn it, he really was pathetic. Just picturing what his father would say to him right now sent a flood of pitiful thoughts through his brain.

He was no better than a starving mutt scrapping up food from a trash can outside of a restaurant. A rotting, shriveled up tree in the cold depths of winter.

A piece of work. A nuisance. A waste of time.

A pathetic excuse of a human being, let alone a hero.

"Well that's obvious," Midoriya's chipper voice sounded, no ounce of remorse in sight, "Because you're my friend."

Shoto inwardly grimaced.

Friend.

The oh so Midoriya-like response that he knew deep down was coming.

But even so…it just wasn't right.

He slowly shook his head, fingers rising up to rub at his sore temples "God I can't believe this…"

"Huh?"

A sigh left his lips and he directed his bi-colored gaze to rest on Midoriya's deep, confused, green irises, his next words heavy on his tongue.

"I'm...I'm sorry Midoriya."

The freckled boy blinked, eyebrows furrowing at his sick friend, noticing how his presence seemed to suddenly freeze over them in a bitter chill.

What?

"Sorry?" he asked, his tone light and wavering in disbelief "Why are you sorry?"

Shoto pressed his lips into a thin line, his head tilting downwards, bangs covering his eyes. Slowly, he turned his head to the side, seemingly in an attempt to avoid Midoriya's perplexed stare…and the topic of explanation.

He looked so...dismal. Or maybe, upset? Disappointed? Honestly, Midoriya wasn't sure.

He actually wasn't sure about a lot of things in concern of Shoto today.

Everyone gets sick. That's inevitable. But Shoto seemed so completely and utterly...bludgeoned by it, that it had made Midoriya very concerned.

Shoto had to have not felt 100% that morning, considering how badly he had thrown up. He had hidden it well even though Midoriya could have sworn that his complexion did look a little green. But then, things continued to take their turns.

He hadn't mentioned feeling sick at all during their time in the bathroom, kept brushing off that he was fine. He had tried to avoid Midoriya's help and care, tried getting up and leaving when he very well wasn't capable of doing so.

And now, here he was, looking down at the bed, fiddling with his fingers like some child who had just stolen some cookies out of a cookie jar, apologizing for something that no other person ever would.

But why?

Why did he seem so regretful, so beaten down, so depressed?

Midoriya began to gain a bit of realization

He had seen that face before, at least ones similar to it. At their battle during the sports festival, in the hospital after beating Stain, those tiny increments he would encounter his father or talk about his mother.

Others wouldn't be able to see it, but Midoriya could. That look…

...was a look of guilt.

It was then that he understood. Maybe not Shoto's exact position, as no one could possibly understand what he'd been through completely. Midoriya knew he probably never would, but he was going to try his hardest to make Shoto understand HIS position, even if it was just a little.

"Hey, Todoroki." He tried, scooting closer to the male's side whilst looking down at the bed as well, , "You know...I actually used to not like asking for help either."

Midoriya ghosted his gaze upward for just a moment , and caught a twinge of movement from Shoto out of the corner of his eye. At least he got a reaction and confirmation that he was listening.

He picked at the blanket below him with his fingers, "I'm sure you already know this," he said softly, "But it was pretty much just me and my mom growing up. With my dad not in the picture, she was the one who always took care of me. She worked quite a few jobs a week at cafes and stores to keep up with expenses while also looking out for my well being at the same time. "

The soft smile on his lips faded some as he continued.

"I would usually stay at Kacchan's house after school when she couldn't pick me up, sometimes I would even spend the night or fall asleep on the sofa because she would get back so late. And when that wasn't an option, I would go to the office and do homework until she was able to come get me, but I never truly realized just how hard she pushed herself until I got older."

Izuku stood up and walked over his dresser, hand reaching out to pick up a framed photo of him and his mother, finger smoothing over the glassened face.

"She always had weekends off with me which made me happy. We would watch movies, play hero, go to All Might's autograph signings, and we'd always have so much fun...but I would begin to notice how she would doze off halfway through a movie, how sometimes she wouldn't lift me up as high, or how sometimes she would walk slower than normal. I never noticed...how tired she was. How worn out working so many different shifts made her, and on top of it she had to take care of me. It made me feel...guilty."

He set the photo down and turned back around, now finding Shoto's bi-colored gaze completely on him, focused and set, like he was mentally relating to what Midoriya was saying.

"Once middle school started, I decided to try doing more things for myself. Cooking, cleaning, shopping, doing my homework by myself, and other things. At first, it was easy, but then I found my time was slipping away because of my studies and my hero research. Sometimes I would go a day without eating, other times I wouldn't have time to study for a test and my scores weren't the best. I had to keep reminding myself that sometimes my mom had it way worse than me, and so I kept doing what I was doing. But I always found it strange how she would ask me if I was okay or if I needed help when she was the one working 3 jobs while also taking care of a kid."

Shoto parted his lips to speak, his inquisitive words just barely above a whisper.

"W-what did you do?"

Midoriya sighed before his lips curled up into a sympathetic, knowing smile "Denied it. Told her I was fine and that nothing was wrong."

Shoto looked down at the bed, "Oh…"

"But of course, schemes, whether good or bad, have to come to an end somehow. And that happened to me in one of the worst ways possible."

"How?"

Midoriya chuckled sheepishly,"I brought home my first test...with an F."

Now that was something. Midoriya had the 5th highest grade level in their class so he was no doubt a good student. To say Shoto was shocked was an understatement.

"Naturally, this caught my Mom's attention, and soon as I got home she set me down to talk. I knew then and there that I had to tell her what was going on and that I would only make it worse if I tried to hide anything so I told her everything from start to finish. I told her I felt bad for her and that I always worried that she was working too hard. I explained absolutely everything, but in the end, instead of her being mad, she did something that I'd always remember for the rest of my life. She took my hand and said 'Izuku, I want you to understand that no matter what, you can always come to me if you need something. No matter how tired I am, no matter what time it is, I'll always be here. It's my job to look after you. We can't do everything by ourselves, we can't be who we want to be without others. Help is a life necessity and everyone needs it sooner or later, even if they don't think they need it or deserve it. Asking for it and accepting it isn't a weakness…'"

Midoriya trailed off for a moment to walk back over to his bed to sit, and gently placed a hand over Shoto's folded ones, tone warm and reassuring.

"In fact...it's one of the greatest strengths a person can have.'"

Something clicked then. Midoriya's words...he wasn't sure why but they ignited something. A feeling that he couldn't pinpoint.

It took so much in the past for him to be convinced that help or assistance was a sign of weakness. All of the stern lectures, orders and put downs that he could be better. The never ending struggles that he conquered by himself and only by himself because that's what he was taught to do.

It was all changed by a simple story from a person he hadn't even known for a year.

"And you know," Midoriya added, "If a hero is sick, then they can't perform at their best for other people, so the best thing for you, whether you like it or not, is rest."

"Yeah." he sighed, "Your right. I...can actually see that now. I guess my old ways got to me. I'm just not used to this," he shifted in place, "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Midoriya said with a smile, "I'm your friend. I'm happy to help."

He grabbed the water bottle for the second time, "Here, I imagine the taste you have in your mouth right now isn't too pleasant."

Shoto breathed a light chuckle and put the rim of the bottle up to his lips, "You have no idea." He took a few sips, relishing in how nice the coolness of the water felt in his parched mouth and dry throat.

"I've been sick plenty of times before so I have an idea. Now," Midoriya stood, "Do you maybe want to try eating something? Some crackers or some toast maybe ? You should probably try and keep your strength up."

"Yeah...crackers are okay. I'm not as nauseous as I was earlier so I think I can stomach it."

"Great ! I'll be right back then. Call if you need anything else, okay?"

"...Sure."

Midoriya turned to head out of the bedroom, hand reaching out to grab the handle of the door.

"Midoriya ?"

He paused his movements and turned his head.

"Yes, Todoroki?"

And then he saw it. That oh so, rare, genuine little smile that seemed to brighten up the whole room.

"Thank you."

Two simple words, but to Midoriya, they meant a million.

#mha #my hero academia #shoto torodoki #izuku midoriya #sick shoto todoroki #caring izuku midoriya #talking #support #friendship #understanding

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forkanna · 4 years

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[AO3] [WATTPAD] [QUOTEV]

NOTE: I try not to get too serious in my notes, but I wanted to take this brief moment to say I hope everyone will give their time and efforts to a few petitions for racial justice in the USA. Donate if you have money, and attend peaceful protests if you have the time and access and are able. We all deserve peace and prosperity, not poverty and inequality. Thank you. Now on with our regularly scheduled smut.

CHAPTER FOUR

Breakfast at the Amagi Inn was a rare treat Chie had not enjoyed in a long time. They had stayed over at each other's houses when they were little quite often, but that had become a bit more rare the past few years. It just wasn't "adult" to have sleepovers. That seemed like a shame, because it was a wonderful way to ensure that you got more than a few passing hours with a friend, but social stigmas are more powerful than anyone wants to give them credit for.

Luckily, the group had gone into the TV to save Yukiko on a Saturday night, so they had all of Sunday to rest and recuperate. The two of them idly walked around the halls in their slippers, smiling and casting sheepishly delighted glances at each other. Conversations remained on light topics like the weather and upcoming exams, the inn, and Chie's dog, Muku. They knew they were in public so that was the best they could do.

They eventually returned to Yukiko's room for a nap. Mrs. Amagi was aware that she had been kidnapped, even if she withheld the truth of the details, so they were allowed to relax and recover. However…

"I can't sleep."

Chie rolled over to face her girlfriend. They had never bothered to get a second futon, so they were snug as two peas in a pod again. "Me, either. But I am tired and don't wanna get up and do anything yet."

"Yeah." Glancing over at her, Yukiko fiddled with her hands under the blanket; Chie could see the bump moving around. "Um… can we…"

"Can we what?" Chie asked.

"K-kiss."

"Oh." Her cheeks were already heating up, but she cleared her throat to give herself an excuse for it. "Y-you want to? Like, for real, not just because we're losing it and can't figure out how to deal with our emotions?"

"Yes, for real," she chuckled softly. "But it's alright, you don't have to if it's too strange."

"Wait! I didn't mean I… wh-what I'm saying is, I do. I want to."

Yukiko's small smile vanished amid her surprise. "Oh. Really? Wow… I'm… that still surprises me. But I'm happy."

"Yeah?" As if to suddenly prove she meant it, she leaned down and pecked her on the cheek. "Well, that one's just for starters."

"Oh, is it?" Another got her sighing and closing her eyes. "Chie…"

That opened the floodgates for a lot more. Though she never would have thought herself capable of such displays of romance, even with a boy much less another girl, Chie found she couldn't seem to stop now that they had pushed through all their reservations — including those thrust upon them by a homogenous, somewhat-conservative Japanese society. Fuck what anyone else thought; they needed to take care of themselves. Be true to their inner feelings.

Which, apparently… were a lot stronger than either of them realised. The next thing she knew, Yukiko was on top of her body, and Chie was clutching at her back as their tongues began to hesitantly search each other out, little half-heard hums accompanying the actions. This was crazy! Wasn't somebody going to stop them? Where was Yosuke with a lewd comment to shame them out of continuing? Where was Yu with a firehose?!

"O-oh," Yukiko groaned when they parted, leaning her forehead against the side of Chie's once she had turned aside to catch her own breath. "That was…"

"Amazing! I've never… God, I'm in shock!"

"That too! But I was going to say 'that was your tongue, wasn't it?'"

Somehow flushing even darker than she had been seconds before, Chie cleared her throat so she could say in a voice that was still hoarse, "I… um… sorry about that! Man, I just got so into this, I don't even know what I was-"

"I didn't say I disliked it," she whispered, kissing Chie's neck and making her shiver all over. "You did surprise me, but I liked it. A lot."

"Oh. Well, uh… that's great! Right?"

"Yeah."

"Can… I do it again?"

"Yeah. Please."

The next several minutes of kisses were a blur as they rolled over again, Chie pushing her down into the futon. She knew she was turned on; had been since the moment their lips met, and the heat only blazed stronger in the time since. What about Yukiko? They really did seem to be in sync so she had a feeling the answer would be "yes", but she still felt such overwhelming disbelief that they were doing any of this in the first place that making assumptions seemed like a one-way ticket to disaster.

"Chie, I…"

"Yes?" she gasped as she drew back from her neck, having left a red spot on her pale skin.

"I feel… like I want to… find out what it's like." When her friend's hazel eyes moved into position to look into hers, Yukiko's darker ones averted. "To f-feel what my shadow felt yours doing to her."

The bottom dropped out of her stomach. "Oh shit. I m-mean, you want me to… with my hand?"

"Is it disgusting? I thought I was a good girl, but I'm asking for something like-"

"No way! Hey, you are good — you're so good, okay?" Her hand drifted up to pet along the side of Yukiko's head, and she leaned into the touch as if starving for it. "I'm just… surprised! Like, I never thought we'd both… y'know?"

Her cheeks were still rosy, but at least she could smile now. "I know. Goodness, this is all so new, a-and I keep expecting you to react how I would have reacted to the same thing. Before… yesterday."

"Yeah. Me, too, even though I… th-the porn."

"You still have to show me some of it," she chuckled while petting down to Chie's ass. When its owner froze in place, she asked, "Is this too much?"

"NO! I m-mean, um, no, it's fine. Just new." She flexed the muscles under Yukiko's fingertips and earned a little gasp from her.

"It's so strong!"

Laughing, she whispered, "I work out."

"Well… y-yes, I know. And you train all the time." Another flex, and she wound up humming her obvious interest. "I think… I like that. Do it again." She did. "Ah!"

"Feels really good," Chie admitted, biting her lip as she shifted her hips under the touch. When the fingers moved down and then back up again, underneath the fabric this time, she shivered and closed her eyes. "Yuki-chan…"

For a few seconds, nothing was said. The words wouldn't have been good enough, anyway; they knew what they wanted to say but not how to say it. And the sentiment would have been redundant in a lot of areas. Gooseflesh sprang into being as she felt those delicate fingertips ghosting over the cheek, down to her thigh and back up again. Another few strokes, and they began to move around to her hip.

"I thought you wanted me to go first," Chie laughed breathily, both excited and terrified of Yukiko going further.

"I did. But then you acted so…" She shrugged her shoulder, unable to come up with an end to that thought. "Do you want me to stop?"

"N-nah. Crazy as it is… I really do want you to keep going. I-if you want."

Instead of responding with words, Yukiko moved her fingers further around, sliding through Chie's thatch of fur. Even just that prompted a gasp and a groan of need from her that she felt so beyond embarrassed at hearing that come from her own throat. She hadn't even been touched yet! This was just foreplay!

This was foreplay. All at once, the thought smacked her full force: she was about to lose her virginity. To a woman! Her best friend!

"O-okay," Yukiko warned her in a soft, anxious tone. Apparently, she was thinking along the same lines. "This is it, I'm… I'm going further if you're ready."

"Yes." Licking her lips, Chie widened her stance, and even though her pulse was thundering in her ears and her stomach was tied in knots, she smiled down at her friend and whispered, "I want it. Want you to be the one, I… can't imagine it being anybody else."

Nodding firmly, as if steeling her determination before riding into battle, Yukiko allowed her fingers to press a little further down…

And pleasure exploded within Chie. It was so blinding that for a few seconds, she couldn't fully connect it to the point of contact. Where was she, and what had she been doing up until now? As the moment slowly filtered back to her, she saw a concerned Yukiko gazing up at her, as if desperately hoping she wasn't making a huge mistake, wasn't hurting her best friend by trying something she had absolutely no experience with.

"Yuki-chan… mhhh…"

That seemed to reassure her somewhat. With a whispered "Chie", she started in a little more firmly, moving the fingers instead of just pressing them against damp flesh as she had been. Her first instinct was to pull away hard, but she fought that off and listened to the second one — which begged for more of this, to push her hips down into the waiting fingers as she gasped out in sheer ecstasy.

"Am I doing this right?" Yukiko asked a minute or two later, still teasing up and down.

"How should I know?! It feels pretty… oh GOD, nnhh! Yes!"

"Chie!" she gasped in mingling alarm and shock. "Th-that sounds so obscene!"

"What we're doing is obscene, so I th-think it's… it's fine!" Her lips pushed down against Yukiko's cheek as she rolled her hips into the contact over and over. "Oh shit… this was what I've been missing out on?"

The young innkeeper-in-training was flushed scarlet, and could barely whisper, "It's good? Really? You like it when I do this? Because… I like doing it for you."

"You do?!"

"Yes! If I can make you feel good, then there's nothing else I would rather be doing." Her fingers became even bolder, firmer, making sure to caress every last inch of Chie's aching need. "And the way you sound…"

A little worried, she asked, "God, is it weird? Do I sound stupid?"

"No. You sound really… hot."

"What?!" Taken aback, she covered her mouth with her hand for a moment, even as the rest of her body was concentrating on riding that beautifully punishing hand.

"Don't cover that up; I love hearing you." Chie lowered the hand, beginning to moan. Yukiko's smile was fragile but wide. "Wow… I can't believe I can help you feel like this…"

After that, Chie lost track of time again. Yukiko's hand only seemed to grow more and more sure of itself, to find new ways to pleasure her as she practiced. And she became aware of something else: the heat was beginning to build. Somehow, she had expected to simply enjoy this level until the activity stopped, but it was growing hotter and hotter with each passing second. And she knew eventually, if they didn't stop, according to everything she had heard…

"Yuki! I… nnhh, I'm gonna… oh my GOD!"

"You're gonna what?" Clearly afraid, her eyes jerked up to her friend's. "What's wrong?"

Laughing weakly, she slammed her hips down with more and more force to compensate for Yukiko's hand stilling as she told her, "Nothing! Mmhh… just d-don't stop! No matter what! Okay?!"

"O-okay!" she breathed, nodding fervently as if this was some kind of official battle command. And she seemed to take her actions just as seriously; the fingers pushed in almost too hard, but it only seemed to wring more pleasure from her already-tortured flesh.

And then Chie came. Which is to say, she knew that this blinding surge of pleasure that almost knocked her off her hands and knees had to be what she saw happen at the end of that video; it couldn't be anything else. Her entire frame shook hard from the sheer force of it, and she distantly felt tears stinging the corners of her eyes. It was an overwhelming religious experience for which she was ill-prepared.

Once she was desperately sucking in breath after breath, head braced against Yukiko's shoulder, the fingers stilled and simply held against her aching warmth. "I… know you said to keep going, n-no matter what, but… it felt like… sh-should I do more?"

"Nhhh… I…" Her throat was so dry now. Was that normal? After a few more tries, she coughed, swallowed, and managed to rasp, "Just… stay… here…"

Yukiko nodded and held her position. The other hand came up and hesitantly started to caress her best friend's back, and when she only got a hum of contentment in response the petting became more firm and certain, soothing up to her hair and then back down. They remained that way until Chie recovered enough to say more.

"Whoa. That was incredible!"

Yukiko's bashful smile was something she could hear rather than see at the moment. "Y-yeah? It was? Then I'm glad I could help you."

"You… mmm, it still feels good…" She shifted her hips against the hand, then sighed. "Don't, um, don't start going again, but like, just hold still? I wanna try something."

"Okay…" And she did as Chie ground against the fingers. "You're so wet… i-is this normal? And I've never touched one of these really, except when I'm washing, but it's… kind of nice. Soft and slick, and… they move more than… I expected…"

Chie shivered when she felt her lower lips being pushed from side to side. "O-ohhhhh, yeah… that's- Yukiko, you really never did this before? You swear?"

"I swear. Not even on myself."

"Wow…" She let out a shaky laugh as she shifted her hips in the opposite direction the fingers moved, to add more sensation. "We could have been doing this for years… can you imagine? Three or four years ago, just going crazy on each other?"

That seemed to alarm her friend. "But we were only children! They don't do these things!"

"Maybe not… at least a year ago, then. That would have been awesome!" Then she drew back, peering down into Yukiko's eyes. "Okay, your turn!"

"Huh?! Oh, but… I thought you were doing more, that you were still enjoying-"

"I am, yeah. But I wanna make you feel this good now; we can worry about taking care of me again some other time." Expression beyond eager, she grinned down at her and waited for her answer.

"Well, I…" She gulped hard and looked away. "I might not feel as good as… you did to me, I'm not… I don't know. But if you're sure you want to try…"

Chie wasted no time in nodding, then kissing her friend delicately on the lips. It didn't last long but was sweet enough that they both sighed afterward. "Yes. I totally want to. Even if you feel like a slimy slug down there-"

"HEY!"

"-I would still want to touch. Because it's Yukiko, y'know?"

Still pursing her lips at the slug comparison, she rolled her eyes before smiling reluctantly. "Well… I suppose that is almost sweet. But I don't know what you want me to… am I supposed to roll over on top of you? Or just stay down here?"

"Stay there. I think that will be easier on you, like, if you don't have to worry about holding yourself up like I just did."

"Oh, I'm sorry! I wasn't thinking about that when we got started — that must have been so difficult!" But then Chie was backing up, kneeling over Yukiko's thighs — and displaying a slight dark spot in the crotch of her own boy shorts. "Oh… oh, it's time, isn't it?"

"Yeah. If you want it to be. But if you don't-"

However, Yukiko was already shaking her head. "No, no, I do. I'm really scared, and nervous, and… I'm not sure if I'm ready. But I know I'm ready for it to be you."

Her best friend smiled softly as she leaned down to kiss her hip. "No wonder your shadow wanted to find her Prince Charming so bad. You're such a romantic. Like, how has nobody swept you off your feet before?"

"Maybe I was waiting for the right Prince. And now I have her." Then she whispered, "Was that romantic, too?"

"Definitely. And you're stalling."

"Maybe I…"

But the lips were moving to push into the center of the soft cotton panties a second later, cutting off further maybes. Red; they suited Yukiko perfectly. As did the vaguely sweet scent rolling outward from where Chie had kissed. She wanted so much more… and said scent seemed to at least suggest Yukiko wanted it, too. Even without her words.

"I was right. Red looks great on you."

The only response was a whimper, which got louder when Chie kissed again. She should have known; Yukiko was rather shy under most circumstances. Why should this one be any different — especially when it was much more anxiety-inducing? The junior hostess didn't even have the luxury of already having enjoyed an orgasm before opening herself up to letting someone else assist.

Every kiss made her writhe. Chie couldn't help kissing more in response, breathing in the intoxicating aroma. It didn't take her long to edge the pretty fabric aside and start kissing her directly — the little gasp of shock sending fresh need down between her own thighs. She had thought it might be disgusting, kissing another woman there… but it wasn't much different from normal kissing. Wetter, slicker… and the scent, of course. But not much different otherwise.

"Chie!" she finally panted as the hips began to roll up and against her mouth a little more. Seeking out the pleasure instead of merely letting it assail her. "Yes! Mmmhh… m-my prince…"

Oh. She was really going to call her that now? It definitely didn't do anything to reduce her own reviving urges. At least those made it easier to keep going, to push her tongue in harder with every pass up from the bottom of her perfectly-formed petals to the pink hood above them. Her hand drifted up to caress along them as she took a break to breathe. How they shifted so easily…

"You're beautiful."

"N-no, don't," she begged as she gasped for breath. "Don't look s-so much…"

"Why not? You're really hot."

"But it's dirty… I'm dirty, you shouldn't… shouldn't l-look!"

That embarrassment should have made her concerned for her friend. However… they both knew their feelings. Understood them very clearly after their shadows made delusions impossible to entertain. Now she knew Yukiko was just worried she would offend her with her body, not that she actually wanted her to look away; reassurance was in order, not surrender.

"I gotta look," she countered, kissing the petals again. "You're so pretty, so sweet… down here. So wet for me, huh?"

"Nhh! Don't!" Her thighs twitched as if to close, but stayed open in the end. "I didn't m-mean to be wet!"

Sliding her tongue over the folds, listening to the squeal of joy, Chie paused to lick her lips afterward before she responded. "I know. You can't help it; just like I can't help kissing you when I'm this close. It's okay that you're dripping for me to touch you."

This time, her best friend didn't respond right away. A quick glance upward showed a ruddy face full of lust, with just the tiniest hint of uncertainty. She knew why; she had become bolder. In the pit of her stomach, she was still terrified of making her upset, but being able to tell that she was turning Yukiko on made it possible for her to ignore that fear. To be the confident prince that made her princess a complete mess who needed her touch.

She had learned so much from her shadow. Even if she was an asshole.

"Yuki," she groaned before going back to work on her throbbing clit, tongue sliding around it over and over. Harder, faster — more with her fingers below. She didn't quite penetrate her, because they hadn't talked about that yet, but everything else seemed to be fair game. Her own hips were twitching in the air by now, as if hoping someone would slide in from behind and fulfil her desires a second time while she worked on her best friend.

Girlfriend?

"Chie! I… I think something is…"

"Hmmhh?"

"I think it's my turn! Y-you're going to make me… finish!"

"Is that what you want?" she asked as she finally pulled off, fingers doing all of the work now. "You want me to make you come?"

"Y-yes! Please?"

Chie had been about to do it. To just keep going, listen to this beautiful woman cry out in ecstasy. But hearing 'please' gave her pause. For a second, she couldn't figure out why… but then realised what she wanted. Purely because of what Other-Chie had done, she had a feeling she knew how to make this even better. For both of them.

"Please what?"

"Huh?"

"Say it. I want to hear you say what it is you want."

Eyes wide as dinner plates, Yukiko covered her face with her hands for a moment. Ashamed, trying to shield that feeling from view. "I… I want you to do it!"

"Do what?"

"Chie! Wh-what are you asking me? I want… you to finish me?" That much earned her a pussy-kiss, at least. "A-ah! Will you finish me?"

"Mmm, beg your prince for it," she purred, still kissing at least. But not quite going back to work.

"Beg?! Do you… a-am I not…" Swallowing, she looked away. "Do you… like hearing me beg?"

"It's what I want. To hear how bad you need me." Then she cleared her throat and hastily corrected, "It. How bad you need it."

Too late. Her slip-up made Yukiko smile briefly, eyes watery and chest heaving as her hips began to squirm, desperate to have something between them again. But when she spoke, she was all moans and desperation, just as her sporty girlfriend wanted. "Chie! My Prince, I need you to- nnhhh! -to touch me! I- I'm begging to feel your mouth on me, for you to make me… climax! Will you please?"

The "holy shit" slipped out before she could catch herself. She just hadn't been expecting Yukiko to be so good at it on the first try! Then she kissed her a little harder on the clit, hoping to sweep that under the rug.

It worked like a charm. Instead of teasing her, Yukiko fell deep into the throes of moaning and back arches, hands and feet clenching at the tatami in an attempt to anchor herself. She came with so much force she almost seemed to float above the floor, head thrown all the way back as she screamed Chie's name.

What Chie wasn't prepared for was the slight push of warm fluid against her mouth. She let out an "MM!" but managed to keep from jerking away or other overreactions. It was too thick, and almost made her sick, but she also knew this was the precious proof that her best friend had orgasmed; she couldn't let it go to waste in good conscience. Therefore, she didn't.

"Ohhhh," Yukiko was groaning while Chie still swallowed. "Oh, wow… you… you felt so amazing!"

"Mmmmhh…"

"Can you come up here? I… oh, now I feel empty… is that strange?"

Her prince obeyed. After only a few seconds to breathe, she climbed up along the futon until they were flopped down on their sides, facing each other and feeling their legs overlapping below. It was the closest to another human being Chie had ever felt in her life.

"Wow."

"Y-yeah. Yuki-chan… I, uh…"

Her contented smile didn't vanish, but there was a slight crease between her brow. "What is it?"

"Sorry. About, um… I kinda talked to you funny. At the end there. It seemed like you were into it, but like, I also felt weird telling you to tell me something, or… whatever…"

"Oh, that." She bit her lip for a moment, smiling shyly. "It was really hot."

"HUH?!"

"Shhh! D-don't make me say it again!"

Leaning up on her elbow slightly, she stared down at the embarrassed innkeeper. "You liked that? Really?! But I was acting like you were my… I dunno! Shadow-Yuki instead of Real-Yuki!"

"I can't explain it," she breathed, not meeting Chie's eyes. "It felt… right. The way you did it, anyway. And the way you said it was so you could know how much I need you… well, you already said your shadow was trying to convince you that I needed you to be confident, and you needed me to feel like you had purpose."

"R-right," Chie managed nervously. "Which was all bullshit." But her friend shook her head. "It wasn't?"

"We have to accept our inner selves, remember? I… might not be as bad as Other-Me, but I do crave that attention from you. That protection, a-and… I think…" A quick swallow, and her voice grew quieter, "When you confront the bullies and boys who won't take 'no' for an answer, say things like 'I'm gonna leave footprints all over your face', it gives me goosebumps!"

That made her chuckle, relaxing very slightly. "Why? You want it to be your face instead?"

"Um… no?"

But that didn't sound certain at all. She had only been joking around! Chie blinked a couple of times before asking, "Do you… want me to beat you up?"

"No, no, don't be silly. But… you standing over me… on me, telling me that I'm all yours… sort of like Other-Chie did…"

"Oh. Wow, I- th-that doesn't sound like it's okay…" On the other hand, the look Yukiko was giving her made her want to try. To satisfy both their curiosity. And it looked like her raven-haired companion wasn't quite through.

"Please, Chie-sama?" she begged, brows lifting as she pleaded. "Step on me?"

To Be Continued…

#We'll Face Ourselves #persona 4 #persona fanfiction #forkanna writes #p4 fanfic #jess the writer #nsfw-text

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youaretoosmart · 7 years

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girl you're murdering me today with your writing (and also your kindness I cannot BELIEVE you posted a link to my fic I'm??) anyway if you wanted to do more one shots I'd love to see what you come up with for 39 if you haven't done it already! :)

*walks in a month late without starbucks*

39: “This is very cliché.” + 69: “You’re ticklish.” (requested by @janeerikabrady on twitter) + 21: “God, I missed you.” (@lydias-martin)

(from +this list of prompts)

Under the readmore because I realize it’s long and I’m nice to my mobile-using friends and followers.

The car starts clicking and creaking on the last half hour of their trip. Lydia feels it in the wheel first, then in the rigid steering, and when Stiles finally cuts off the music to ask “What’s that noise?”, Lydia knows there’s a problem.

“Pull over,” Stiles says after the engine gives a sudden whirr, one wheel in a pothole.

Lydia complies, because even though the rented Mercedes is much newer and all around better than his old Jeep, the antic car did give Stiles more experience with faulty engines.

“Do you know what’s happening?” she asks, pulling on the side of the road.

Once the car is still, the lateness of the hour catches up with her, and she feels a twinge of irritation toward Beacon Hills. They’re barely in Beacon Hills county and so of course their car–their rental, brand-new car has to stop working in the middle of the woods on a Sunday night.

Stiles shakes his head before stepping out of the car. Lydia pops up the hood when he gestures her to, and stands a moment bent over it, hidden from Lydia’s sight by the sheet of black metal.

She waits for five, ten minutes without hearing a sound before she unbuckles and opens her door.

“You okay?” she asks as soon as she’s outside, and the wind carries out her words.

She watches the leaves rustle around her heeled boots, and a spike of panic seizes her for a hot second. It’s senior year all over again, and Beacon Hills is swept over by a cold wind that blows in the supernatural; she finds herself focusing on the distance, waiting for the tell-tale sound of hooves.

She can’t see Stiles over the hood, and she knows he could be gone in the blink of an eye–

Then Stiles slams the hood down and turns to her, blinking in the harsh lights of the car.

“You okay?” he says in a soft voice, like he knows what she’s thinking about.

How can he, when Lydia herself isn’t sure what transpires in her brain in those times? But Stiles has always been too perceptive when it comes to her, and that’s how that particular story begins.

Lydia sits back sideways in the car, legs outstretched toward him, and gently bumps her right foot to his shin.

“Better than this engine,” she says, regaining her composure and hard-won casualness. “What’s the matter?”

Stiles scowls.

“I’m not sure,” he admits. “The engine is so different from the Jeep’s–I couldn’t see anything.”

“You mean no duct tape?”

“Very funny.”

There’s a loud rumbling sound in the distance and Stiles squints at it before making his way to the passenger seat. Lydia catches on and close her door the moment the rain starts to fall furiously.

“I missed those north Californian downpours,” Lydia says darkly, watching the drops of rain smash against the windshield like pebbles.

“Makes you regret the East Coast winters.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”

They don’t turn on the heat, not wanting to add a dead battery to the damage, and Stiles reaches for the heavy winter coats they shed when they landed in California. Lydia slips into hers, grateful for the warmth and the smoothness of the fleece lining, and reaches for her phone. The line is busy the first time she dials the still familiar number of Beacon Hills’ towing company, and she looks at her phone in distaste after five minutes of Vivaldi’s Spring concerto.

“The odds of someone else crashing their car tonight?”

Stiles makes a disgusted noise and makes himself comfortable in the seat.

“We should call them with my phone next time,” he says. “They must still have my number in their VIP clients book.”

The truth is, Lydia wouldn’t be surprised if it was true. She slips off her shoes and turns in her seat to face him. The window is cool against her back, and she tucks her socked feet against the armrest between them.

“Home sweet home,” she sighs. “Lost in the woods at night in a broken down car. It’s high school all over again.”

Stiles’ eyes take on a different kind of mischievous light.

“You know what else we did in the car in high school?” he says playfully, grabbing her ankles to extend her legs over his lap. His fingers slip up the hem of her pants and ghost over her ankles and Lydia feels her toes curl up against his thigh.

“Stop it,” she says, biting her lips to contain her giggles.

“You’re ticklish,” Stiles realizes, his mouth already stretched wide. “How did I never know?”

She kicks at his wrists until he lets go of her ankles.

“Try again,” she says, pointing at his phone. “I’m not having car sex with you when we should be at your father’s for dinner.”

“So you’ll have car sex with me after we get dinner with my father?”

“I will consider–” Lydia pauses, enjoying the way Stiles’ lips part unconsciously. “Making out on your bed.”

Stiles snorts.

“You really are reliving our teenage years,” he says, like they’re not barely twenty and still in college.

Lydia waves the phone under his nose until he gives in and calls again. This time they pick up immediately, and Lydia isn’t surprised when she hears Stiles greet the other person by his name.

“Ah, no,” he says after a few minutes. “We rented a car at the airport. No, I left the Jeep to my friend Scott–the one with the Kawasaki bike?” He glances at Lydia when she nudges her with her foot, tapping on her wrist with two fingers, the universal sign for “hurry up”.

“An accident,” he repeats after giving their location. “Of course. How long?”

He hangs up soon after and places the phone in the cup holder between their seats.

“An accident?” Lydia asks.

“Yup. Three car pile-up. They’re nearly done, but we’ll have to wait for the tow truck for at least forty minutes.”

The wind picks up at that moment, rocking the car slightly. Lydia and Stiles stare, unimpressed, as a branch hits the window heavily.

“This is very cliché,” Lydia says, trying to see something in the darkness.

Stiles hums and picks up his phone, his fingers quick across the screen as he types a message.

“Dad can’t pick us up, he’s covering the accident.” A groan. “Fuck. I’m starving.”

They spend ten minutes in silence, three others playing I spy until they run out of things to spy (the rain, trees, the road), and by then Lydia is so cold and bored that she’s starting to imagine things out of the dark shape of the trees. Stiles’ rhythmic drumming on the dashboard is also slowly driving her mad.

Tap tap tap, and Lydia’s seeing something move between the trees; reason tells her it’s the wind, branches and bushes bent backward by the storm, but experience is pressing down on her until she fears like she’s been conditioned to.

Tap tap tap. A bird swoops down suddenly, hits their car, and Lydia jumps half a foot in the air. It rights itself as it bounces back and disappears in the storm.

“Weird,” Stiles notices. “Birds usually don’t fly out during storms.”

They share a look; even though they both live in the city, now, noticing out-of-place animal behaviors has become a second nature.

“Scott hasn’t mentioned anything weird happening lately, right?” Lydia ends up asking, just to break the silence. She turns in her seat to look out the back window, but there’s nothing to see except for dark trees and a darker sky.

“Not to me,” Stiles answers.

The reproach is clear in his voice. Even months later he’s still annoyed that they never called him when rats and wolves and people started killing each other, Lydia guesses. She reaches for his hand and squeezes a silent apology. Stiles’ phone buzzes with an incoming text at that moment, and when he brings up her wrist to his lips, leaving the ghost of a kiss on her pulse point, his attention is clearly elsewhere.

He doesn’t release her hand the whole time he frowns at his phone, but Lydia looks at him and feels like someone put her heart in the wringer and chose the highest settings; it turns and turns in her chest until she feels like she’s going to bleed for this boy sitting two feet away from her, like her love for him seeps in her blood and warms her fingers between his.

She turns her hand until they’re holding hands and laces her fingers through his. It’s a small but steady comfort, a gesture made dearer by the distance that they’ve grown accustomed to.

“God,” Stiles says suddenly, like he’s thinking the same thing. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Lydia admits with a squeeze of his hand that make him look up. “So much, Stiles.”

It’s nothing she hasn’t already thought or heard, because long distance is hard, especially when isolation, to Lydia in high school, meant driving less than an hour north to her lakehouse.

She tugs him to her with their connected hands and he falls against her shins.

“I’m sorry about Thanksgiving,” she says in his mouth when he leans forward to kiss her. “I wanted to come home–”

“It’s okay,” he reminds her, his nose brushing against her cheek. “I know that project was important.”

There’s something in his words that makes frown and lean back to look at him in the eyes.

“Not more important, though, you know that, right?”

His eyes are impossibly soft and fond; there’s her answer. It makes her feel safe that she can read him so easily before he can even speak, because if Stiles Stilinski is good with his words, he tells even more with his eyes and his hands and his actions. And now–now she has a lifetime in front of her to read each movement, his half-aborted nervous gestures and gentle looks.

Some part of her hates the lateness of the hour and the uncomfortable knowledge that the tow truck is coming, because a revelation like that deserves the shallow darkness of a bedroom at night or the casual familiarity of home.

“Say it again,” Stiles asks, so Lydia does just that until the lights from the tow truck break the illusion of solitude.

The air is still thick with those words when they step outside the car and Lydia is nearly swept off her feet by the wind, because they’re still there in the way she reaches for him when he stumbles and the weight of his hand on her back when she climbs inside the truck: You’re the most important person in my life, Stiles Stilinski.

#stydia #cave canem #lydias-martin #janeerikabrady #my drabbles #sorry this is crappy and cliché #also look at me cramming 3 prompts in 1 #i'm ashamed #you're gonna take that compliment back kaleigh i know it lol #mrtinski #answered

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