I love thinking about daily life in Daybreak Town and I'm gonna put a read more for my own sanity here LOL feel free to add your headcanons about Daybreak Town :]
one thing I really like thinking about is what quests/missions and raid hour was like for wielders since khux loved to make game mechanics actually Mean Something lore-wise. If you never played khux, raid hour was twice a day (11am and 11pm in my time zone) where powerful enemies would appear called raid bosses and you and your party could take them on solo or together
So like. Daily missions/quests are really only mentioned briefly in actual cut scenes (off the top of my head, Ephemera mentions it to Player that it would be suspicious if they were gone too long because it would look like they were slacking, Strelitzia also is shocked that Lauriam basically gets all of his missions done before noon) but I imagine that daily missions take up most of the day for wielders (again, another gameplay mechanic where you earned in game currency for doing things). And you know obviously we get to see lots of wielders around during the day, we get to see our character and others going to bed at the end of the day, and when Player waits for Ephemera at the fountain we see how no one is around at night,
I've seen a lot of discussions about night time in Daybreak Town, headcanons about how there are wielders that only do their missions at night, how darkness is more potent and there are more heartless (I especially love when people point out the night sky would be pitch black since the worlds are still one world so there would be no sky, only adding to the darkness at night). But back to raid hour!! I like to think about wielders getting their daily missions done and going back home to relax/nap/whatever and then when raid hour happens the clock tower rings and its like the empty streets suddenly fill with people, wielders meeting up with their parties or people going for the solo boss fights, and they all go ham until the bosses disappear and everyone goes back to bed. In the khx novel chirithy says that the clock tower only rings at "special times" but never elaborates so I like to think raid hour counts lol
for other daily life things tho, I've always had this headcanon that since the unions were formed (or maybe since the master of masters took on apprentices,) wielders just flocked to Daybreak Town and kinda. basically drove out the original people in Daybreak Town so its literally like a town run by kids (and moogles) and I like to think there's a good amount of kids/teens running little shops like there's that one part of Daybreak Town that's like a street market and I just know those were all run by like 15 year olds (also you can't convince me that 18 is like the oldest people get in Daybreak Town bc the game makes it SO SO SO CLEAR that wielders die CONSTANTLY and its VERY NORMALIZED) but anyway yeah some wielders not really doing their wielder stuff and instead just running businesses because you can't tell me there's moogles for Everything,
I've also had some very clear ideas about how parties work like since day one of unchained x, I like to think party leaders have get togethers to discuss what's happening in town or in their union and each union has their own like. Office I guess? for party leaders to gather and I always liked to imagine the leaders going there in the morning for reports of where strong heartless are or orders from their union leader yknow (idk in my head its like a post office, go to your little mailbox and get your stuff)
I don't have anything else those are my random disjointed thoughts👍
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encroaching promises
azriel x reader
summary: based on this request "I would love if you wrote something where Azriel was a dick and he has to GROVEL. (Angst feeds my soul) please and thank you."
category: angst (i just rly love it)
word count: 4.8k
warnings: slightly nsfw in some parts, emotional (not physical) disloyalty ?? maybe ?? kinda ??
notes: umm this was so fun to write! it came to me so fast like I didn't even have to edit it?? hopefully it's good lmao anways i hope you enjoy this @liddyr03, thank you for sending in a request!!
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Something had shifted between you and Azriel. It had been a gradual shift, one you had felt coming on for some time- but you could have never expected the reason for the growing distance between you and your mate.
He had been working longer hours, waking up earlier, barely spending any free time with you and you knew the middle Archeron sister had a part in it. You had tried to ignore it, their growing closer. Azriel had taken a liking to her. At first, your heart had warmed at Azriel’s willingness to help. There had not been many opportunities in his life where he could help someone directly, not just in a battlefield or in an interrogation room. You witnessed the impact it had on him, you could feel his inner peace, the way he viewed himself, his self worth improving- and you were proud of him. You really were happy that Azriel was finally seeing himself in a way you had always seen him. You believed in kindness, in helping others, in going above and beyond for someone in need, you had always preached it to Azriel. It had been one of the things that had drawn him to you, seeing in you traits he wanted to possess. But now, it had gone too far.
You had noticed Elain and Azriel growing closer and closer. You had pushed your wariness aside, opting to be kind to her, hoping to help her in the way Azriel was doing so. Maybe she could be a good friend to you both, you thought. But Elain had not been as welcoming to your helping hand. Instead, she had treated you as she had treated all other fae, like you were a monster, personally responsible for her family's misfortune.
You tried time and time again to be graceful, to brush off her rudeness. You chose to be understanding, to put yourself in her shoes. But still, she treated you poorly. When you would join Azriel in visiting her, you noticed the difference in treatment. How she would look at him, and how she would look at you, like you had something she wanted.
Eventually, you stopped joining Azriel in his visits, finding it hard to control your feelings of jealousy and not wanting to come across as an irrational possessive mate. He was only helping her get better, you told yourself.
After you stopped going together, you noticed how his visits grew longer and longer. The longer he would be there, the more you would question it. What are they doing? Why is she keeping him there? Is it him that wants to stay longer?
The questions would run through your head until the moment he would walk into your shared chambers. You would lay your eyes upon your tired mate, but you would catch the gleam in his eyes, happy with himself for doing some good for once, and you would push aside all jealousy. How could you ever doubt your mate? The very same male that had worshiped you for years, that had vowed his undying love to you, who was bound to your soul. And so you would welcome him home with open arms, letting him fall to bed, little words spoken of his day.
It kept on like this, for months, till a whole year had passed and you no longer recognized your relationship with Azriel. You barely spoke anymore, going through your established routines around each other in silence. What had once brought you so much comfort, now left you fretting that something had irrevocably changed. You knew next to nothing about what Azriel was thinking, of where he spent his days, although you had a good idea of who he spent them with. You who had once been his closest confidant, wrapped in his arms till late hours of the night, whispering every thought that crossed through your minds to each other. You were barely having any sex. What used to be almost a daily activity, was now a hurried fuck in the dark, taking no time to explore one another's bodies, only looking for a quick release. You hadn’t actually seen your mate’s body in months. Had Azriel finally had enough of yours after all this time?
Elain’s smell had practically been imprinted on him. You never smelled any sex, no, and you thought, no you hoped, that Azriel would never do that. But it hurt all the same when you could smell her on his clothing, for that only happened when a fae was around all the time.
You had decided to take matters into your own hands. You were waiting for Azriel to come home, wearing his favorite silk slip that you had surprised him with on the night of your mating ceremony. Determination drove you- you would not let him go to bed without first feeling satiated.
And so you waited, your belly fluttering with parts equal nerves and excitement. You were excited because you knew your mate would melt at the sight of you, and love on you like you were accustomed to. You felt maybe all you and Azriel needed was one night to destress, to reconnect and everything would be back to normal.
When Azrile came home, his eyes immediately darkened at the sight of you, he recognized the slip you were wearing, images of your mating ceremony flashing through his mind. He was overcome with need for you and it only took a matter of minutes before you were pressed up against the wall, lost in a hungry kiss. You sent all your excitement down the bond and he groaned into the kiss, sending his desire right back. You were elated, nothing pleased you more than the feeling of Azriel against you and feeling the bond thrumming with need.
Azriel was quick to pick you up and carry you to your shared bedroom, tossing you on the bed. You sat up on your knees, wrapping your arms around his neck, wanting to slow this down a bit. You could feel how badly he wanted you, not only through the bond but by the bulge pressing into your flushed bodies. The mother knew you wanted him just as badly, and any other time you would have given into your needs in a desperate attempt to chase the release you were craving. But you wanted to take him in, wanting to drag this out as long as possible, to drink in the sight of his glorious body that your eyes had been deprived of.
You pressed your forehead against his, willing your breath to calm down. Azriel pulled his head back a bit, brows furrowing slightly and a look of confusion overtaking his eyes, “You alright, love?” a wave of worry flowed down the bond, his hands roamed your body, bringing you comfort and spreading warmth all over.
You flushed slightly, butterflies erupting in your belly at hearing the pet name. Your ears perked, not having heard the endearment in so many months. Gods, you had missed him. You smiled shyly at him, and gave him a slight nod. Azriel felt his knees buck, so many years later and a single look from you could make him feel like the inexperienced younglin he used to be back at the camps. You looked so so lovely in that slip, the shy look you gave him, eyes shining with love, and the pink tint on your cheeks he had elicited all warmed his heart. He brought a hand up to your face, moving a stray piece of hair behind your ear, resting his hand at the base of your jaw all while staring intently into your eyes. When he saw your cheeks flush a darker red, he gave you a charming grin, amused and delighted by the sudden shyness in you. He loved that he still had that effect on you, as if you were meeting for the first time.
“I’m alright Az, just taking you in” you murmured, your voice sounding like honey to his ears.
“You can take me in all you want Y/N, I’m all yours to look at” he murmured back, dipping down to place warm loving kisses on your neck. You were delighted by his words, breathing him in deeply, relishing in the smell of his arousal. You felt delirious and giddy all at once, yes, you thought, all mine. Wishing to remind him, you sent the possessiveness you were feeling down the bond, making Azriel growl and nip at your neck more feverishly, marking you as his. He loved when you claimed him just as much as claiming you, feeling lucky to have someone in his life that wanted him as badly as he had always wanted.
The feeling of Azriel’s nipping and sucking your neck urged you on to keep undressing him. Undoing all the clasps you had started unfurling downstairs, you removed the tight fitting top of his leathers. You ran your hands along his arms, taking pleasure in the warmth of his bare skin against your fingertips. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, trailing your gaze up his tattooed arms, to his chest, hands sliding along- when your eyes snagged on something just below his pec and you halted all your movements. Azriel buried in your neck still, stopped as well, feeling you tense up. You pulled back, taking a good look at what your eyes had seen. It was a tattoo. One you hadn’t seen before.
Your heart sank, hurt overpowering any feeling of desire you had been feeling. The unexpectedness of the moment had left you vulnerable, leaving your side of the bond wide open for Azriel to feel the sudden shift in your emotions. He froze, suddenly panicked at why you were hurting and he pulled back, grasping your arms and holding you at arms length. He tried meeting your eyes, noticing they were locked in on his torso. When he looked down he saw what you were staring at.
You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the rose shaped tattoo resting on his right rib. You didn't know what it meant, but you had a feeling you knew what, or rather who, had been the cause of it. You thought of Elain and her precious garden. You thought of Elain and her treasured white roses. You couldn’t fight the tears that lined your eyes and you moved out of Azriel’s grasp to the other side of the room, wanting to be as far away from him as possible.
Azriel felt his heart sink at the way you fled his touch, as if he had burned you. He saw the look in your eyes and felt his that his world was crashing down.
“What is that Azriel?” you asked, struggling to conceal the wobble in your voice, not actually wanting to hear the truth you already knew.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, looking down at the tattoo your gaze hadn’t drifted from and then looked back up at you. Forcing himself to look at you, even if it made him feel like the biggest dickhead.
“It’s… It’s a promise” he said, wishing he didn’t have to tell you and see the betrayal in your eyes. He had been avoiding this conversation, feeling disgusted at himself for having made the promise in a lapse of judgment.
He saw the fire ignite in your eyes, anger rising at his answer. You already knew it was a promise, and he was aware you wanted more of an explanation. He only hoped you could forgive him, for he did not know if he could forgive you if it were the other way around. Shame creeped up his spine and he mustered up the courage to confess his mistake. He had barely been able to look at himself since the tattoo had seared itself onto his skin and he had opted to ignore it all together- to pretend it wasn’t there. Azriel had done so much pretending, that the tattoo had been fully forgotten moments earlier when he had welcomed and encouraged you to look upon him.
At your lack of response, he cleared his throat and carried on, praying to the mother in his head, for he knew he was about to hurt you and he would hate himself for having caused you pain, “I made a promise. I-I made a promise to Elain.”
You looked up at him then, and the pain he saw in your eyes made him feel sick to his stomach, knowing he has caused it. “Y/N, I swear I didn’t mean to-”
You cut him off, your voice terrifyingly low “What did you promise her Azriel?”
His cheeks were red and his body felt hot with shame as he replied, “I promised I would always be there to protect her.”
His words, uttered barely above a whisper, felt like daggers to your heart. You flinched, unable to conceal the effect they had on you. The tears broke free, you managed to hold in your sobs by biting the inside of your cheeks, but you couldn’t hold back the tears. You were biting so hard you tasted blood, and the world felt like it was spinning. You couldn’t find any words, there was nothing to say. He had promised her something he was supposed to only ever promise you.
“I fucked up. I know I did, I’ve been working out a way to undo it.” He started to plead, taking a few steps to close the distance between you. You stepped away, not letting him get near, barely hearing his words over the rushing sound in your ears. “Rhys and Feyre have been helping me find a way to break it. We actually know how, the same way they broke their deal from under the mountain, we just need Elain to-”
You were done listening to him, his words only adding to the hurt you were feeling. Rhys and Feyre knew your mate had promised his protection to another? Did everyone know? Why hadn’t he told you?
“Leave” you hissed at him. You didn’t care to hear his excuses, you were done. Never would you have ever spent so much time with another male, never would you have ever made such an intimate promise.
“What?” he asked. He had been expecting you to react this way, for months he had been mentally preparing himself. But to hear you actually say it still caught him off guard. “Y/N, please, I can expl-”
“Leave” you said again, your voice strengthening with conviction. “Get out of my home, Azriel.” You felt if Azriel stayed any longer you would go mad, and you meant your words. This was not a home anymore, not with him in it. He had bound his soul to another, and kept it from you. If he remained here any longer, you don’t know what you would do. You could feel your power thrumming in your veins, begging for release.
Azrile looked heartbroken, like a man that had lost everything he cared about in this world. He pleaded with his eyes, pushing everything he was feeling down the bond, hoping you would take back his words. When you only looked away as a response, he knew he had to respect your wishes. It pained him unlike anything else to leave you alone after the damage he had caused but he understood there was nothing he could do at that moment to make it better. He steeled himself, calling all his shadows to him, fighting with the ones that were wrapped around you trying to comfort you, and then he vanished.
You broke down when Azriel left, letting the pain of your failed relationship consume you. The image of the rose tattoo was all you could see behind your eyes and you ran to the bathroom to release the bile that had risen up your throat. You sat there on the floor, picturing all the interactions you had witnessed between Azriel and Elain. You could have prevented this, you couldn’t help but think, if you had only stepped in sooner. If you had only kept that girl away from your mate. If you had only shown her anything other than kindness. You had in a sense, lost your mate to another woman. For how could he spend his days with you when he promised to protect another for the rest of her days?
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Azriel knew he had to fix this. He honestly had already been trying to, he wanted nothing more than to be rid of the promise he had made Elain. A promise that she had coerced him into. But to be rid of it, she had to be in agreement. Rhys and Feyre had helped him contact Helion and that is what he had told them. The High Lord of day had also told them it would cause great pain, which Elain had grasped onto in her refusal to break the promise. She argued she had been through enough in the past years to willingly put herself through more pain.
Azriel blamed himself, really. For letting Elain get so close to him, for having been there at her beck and call to the point she expected, no demanded, that treatment from him all the time. He had spent the last few months attempting to convince Elain to go through with breaking the promise. He was doing everything he could for her, hoping if he did enough she would come to her senses and consent to Helion’s spell.
He kept telling himself she was only holding on to this because she had lost everything else in her life, it made her feel that she was finally in control of something- that she didn’t mean his beloved any harm. But Azriel had come to the realization that whether Elain meant to hurt others or not with her actions- she was being selfish with them. He was devoted to you and he would not let Elain cost him what he prized so dearly in his life. His mate, he kept thinking, he would not lose his mate.
Rhys and Feyre were curled against one another in the living room when Azriel winnowed in, looking distraught, wings drooped, and frantic shadows dispersing around the room- swallowing all light. He dropped down to his knees, tears lining his eyes as he looked up at his High Lord and High Lady. They were instantly alarmed, Rhys dropping to the floor to join his brother while Feyra went to Azriel’s side. Rhys grabbed Azriel’s face in his hands, quickly assessing him for any injuries, he tried peeking into Azriel’s mind and only saw your pained expression. Azriel dropped his head on his brother's shoulder, looking like a fallen angel, and he cried. “Please help me. Please, brother”.
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For the next few weeks, you had isolated yourself- putting wards around the house to prevent any of your family from winnowing in. You had felt each of them attempt to come in, to console you, but you refused to let them in.
You couldn’t forgive them, at least not anytime soon, for having kept this from you. You felt embarrassed. You didn’t know how long ago the promise had been made, you didn’t know how long they had known- all the interactions you had with your family since the time Elain came were now painted in a different light in your mind. Had they all thought you a fool? To let your mate get so close to another female, when Elains affections for Azriel had so clearly been written on her face? You couldn’t bear to face them, knowing they had kept this from you.
You had also distanced yourself because you weren’t sure of what you would do if you came across Elain. Your territorial feelings had only been enhanced and you were scared of what you would do to your High Lady’s older sister if you saw her.
Azriel had tried almost everyday to talk to you, but you remained firm in your decision, refusing to yield to his pleas. You had received countless notes from Rhys, the only one who could get past your wards, and had burned them all. Until the latest one. You had been reading when a note appeared on the page you were on. Unlike the other ones, this one did not come to you unfolded so you had no option but to read the words they said. “It is done. Azriel is recovering in the infirmary.” The note raised your heartbeat and caused dozens of questions to rise within you. Suddenly Azriel’s absence the past few days made sense. He had been resolute everyday since you had kicked him out in gaining your forgiveness, staying outside the door to your home waiting for the day you would let him back in. He hadn’t pushed or attempted to break through your wards, and you knew he could, he was the spymaster after all; instead, he had patiently waited, accepting his punishment. Every night, for weeks he had waited, until a few days ago, when he had disappeared and hadn’t come back. You figured he had gotten tired, or given up- you were still too hurt to find out why he had left.
Now, worry filled you. Was he okay? What did Rhys mean by “recovering”? You recalled the time Rhys and Feyre had faked breaking their bond, fooling everyone by breaking the promise they had made instead- you remembered their shouts of pain, and that was the High Lord and the High Lady, the two most powerful fae in all of Prythian.
You quickly stood up, pacing around the room, trying to decide what to do. Deep down you knew even if you didn’t go right now, adamant in your stubbornness, worry would eat you and thoughts of Azriel would consume you. Acknowledging you wouldn’t be able to go an hour without knowing, you made your decision and winnowed to the infirmary.
When you arrived, the sight of Azriel made you gasp. He looked awful. You could see the stark dark circles under his eyes, his ruffled hair, the pain expression etched on his face even as he slept. He looked thinner too, as if he hadn’t been eating well- he hadn’t, you learned later on, too sick at his own actions to feel any appetite at all.
You rushed to his side, grasping one of his hands, they felt cold, almost lifeless, and you reached deep within to the bond that tethered your soul to his, the bond you had buried deep down within you and ignored for weeks. You sighed with relief when you found it and tugged on it. He was still there you could feel, but the bond was dulled, as if life had been sucked out of it.
You burst into tears, never having imagined that the beautiful bond you cherished would ever be in such a weak state. This feeling you had feared, the feeling of Azriel fighting for his life, of barely being there overwhelmed you.
You cried for him, for your love, for everything that had happened until your throat felt hoarse and the tears wouldn’t come anymore. You had sat there by his side for hours, squeezing his hand and murmuring his name over and over, tugging at the bleak bond, willing it to go back to normal.
All night you spent by his side, the sun was now rising over the mountains of Velaris when you felt a hand land on your shoulder. It was firm and gentle- Rhys. You didn’t look up at him, your head pressed against Azriel’s hand, cradled within your own. When your tears had dried you had resorted to praying to the mother, you were convinced if you prayed enough he would be okay and you wouldn’t let anything interrupt the prayers that tumbled out of you.
“Y/N” Rhys mumbled, sitting down next to you, arm now wrapped around you. “He’s going to be okay.”
When he realized you would not acknowledge him until you felt satisfied with your orison, Rhys pulled you into a hug, waiting for you to finish. He does not know how long he sat there next to you, only that the sun was now high up in the sky. You slumped against him, still not letting go of Azriel's hand and started crying again. “You knew” he heard you say, and he felt a pang in his chest. He realized now that not only had you been hurt by Azriel, but he had hurt you as well.
He nodded, “I’m sorry for keeping it from you.” He said “I was only doing what I thought best. I will let Azriel explain everything when he wakes up, I want you to hear it all from him. But just know I am sorry”
He felt your body shake more violently at the mention of Azriel. “What if he doesn’t wake up?” you asked, voice small and filled with agony.
“He will, Y/N. He will.” He pulled you away to look in your eyes, making sure you were taking in his words. “Madja and Helion have both guaranteed that he will wake up, his body just needs to heal.”
You nodded, calming down slightly at his words. “How long has he been here?”
At this, he looked down, embarrassed to tell you he had kept yet another thing from you in hopes that Azriel could go to you himself and tell you he had gotten rid of the promise. “He has been here a few days, I-I didn’t take it would take long for him to wake up. I wanted him to be able to tell you.”
You only nodded, having already guessed as much, piecing together Azriel’s absence outside your door with his unconscious body. Later, you would give Rhys hell for keeping it from you, but currently you had no energy to fight. You leaned into his hug further, needing the comfort he provided and resigned yourself to waiting.
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It took three more days for Azriel to wake up, Rhys had briefly explained that the impact had been greater than it should have been because they had manipulated Elain into consenting to break the promise instead of her going willingly into it. You could feel the anger Rhys felt towards his sister in law as he explained- making sure you understood they had coerced her in a way not too unlike how she had done to Azriel when he made the promise. Your anger towards Azriel had diminished, you still wanted to hear what he had to say, but you were ready to forgive him. All you wanted was for him to wake up.
You were sitting next to Azriel, head nodding off in sleep. After almost four days of little to no sleep, you were struggling to fight it off. Your eyes had fully shut and you could feel yourself drifting when you felt the hand you were holding twitch.
Immediately you gasped and sat up, watching with wide eyes as Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed. He seemed to battle with himself to wake up and once he finally did you stood up grabbing a cup of water for him. He looked at you with daze eyes and croaked out, “I’m sorry”
Your heart melted, his voice was barely there and you shushed him, raising the cup to his lips, urging him to drink some water. He gulped down the water you offered, pulling back to catch his breath, then he looked at you again, eyes filled with sorrow before he whispered again “I’m so sorry, my love”
You only nodded, too overwhelmed with emotion to form any words. Instead, you pushed everything you were feeling down the bond and in return Azriel poured all of his love. You could feel how sorry he was, his love for you, his sadness. His eyes watered at feeling the bond thrumming again, he had been convinced he would never feel it again and he thanked the mother for blessing him with such an amazing mate.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry” he kept mumbling, groggy from his week-long slumber and unable to form any other coherent sentences.
You shushed him and cradled his face to your body, peppering his face with kisses wanting to convey how grateful you were for your mate. You stayed there, curled up against him the rest of the night, letting him know how much you loved him, your mate, who had risked his life to make things right.
“I would do it again, for you, I would do anything” he murmured, head tucked in the crook of your neck, before drifting off into sleep again.
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Hiii love your writingggg, could you plsss do very innocent!reader and pervy!ethan 🫶🏻
Hiii! I hope you like it, even though you requested this MONTHS ago.
I'm not innocent, so I'm not the best at writing it🙃 Hopefully this is okay:)
Creep - Pervy!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Summary: You ask Ethan for help in econ, and once Mindy mentions the empty bedroom in the apartment she shares with Ethan and Chad, you agree to move in. But you realize that your sweet, dorky new roommate has been stealing your panties.
Contains: Pervy kinda creepy Ethan, innocent inexperienced reader, fingering. m!masturbation.
A/N: Okay...this needs a part 2 but I'm already at 5k words lmao. A lot of fics I've read along these lines had had Ethan more subby, but not in this one. 👀
*For the poll I posted earlier today, this one had the most votes at the time of me posting this fic. I'm going to write them all in the order that they're wanted:)*
It seemed like your life was starting to fall apart. You couldn’t stand your roommate, your boyfriend had broken up with you, and your grade for econ was starting to tank. When you brought up your grade to your professor after class, hoping to figure out some way to raise it, she suggested that you talk to Ethan Landry.
The next time you had class, you beelined towards him once he walked in. He noticed you, getting a little nervous the closer you got. He wasn’t the best at talking to girls, he even thought this could’ve been a figment of his imagination that the girl he struggled to take his eyes off was walking to him. He was chewing the inside of his cheek, his eyes not leaving you until you were finally face to face.
“Ethan, right?” you sweetly said, as he nodded. “I hear you’re the best for tutoring, and I desperately need your help if you have the time.”
“I’ll make the time,” he spat out, before he internally screamed at himself for sounding so desperate to help. “I mean, I can help you.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” you said, as you pulled out your phone. “What’s your number?”
“Oh, um…” he trailed off, racking his brain for those ten digits that he suddenly forgot. “I’m sorry, it’s been a long day.”
“It’s okay,” you smiled, “Are you okay with me just giving you my number and you can text me so we can set something up?”
“Yeah,” he said, as he pulled out his phone and went to create a new contact. He passed you his phone as you typed in your name and number, before you handed it back to him.
“Don’t forget to text me,” you said, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you turned to walk back to your seat.
“I won’t,” he said, tightly gripping his phone in his hand as you turned to smile at him once more.
He was struggling to focus as he sat through that class. His fingers kept rubbing over the phone screen that your thumbs had moved across, and he started to realize how pathetic he was for already being so addicted to you when you’d only spoken to him once.
Later that week, you were supposed to meet Ethan in the library to study. You both completely forgot about the renovations they were doing, the normally quiet space filled with the loud sounds of the various pieces of machinery on the opposite side of the room.
“Maybe we should try to do this some other time,” you yelled over the noise. “I can’t concentrate on anything you’re saying.”
“Oh, okay,” Ethan said, looking down so you wouldn’t see the sad look on his face. That’s when he started to get an idea. “My apartment is only two blocks away. It should be quieter. You want to come over to study?”
You liked to be cautious, and you normally wouldn’t go to someone’s apartment that you barely knew, but Ethan seemed innocent enough, and you desperately needed to pass the class so you wouldn’t have to take it again.
“Sure,” you said, wincing as the noise in the room got louder.
You walked beside Ethan as you went to his apartment, and even though it was just for studying, he felt a glint of pride as he walked with you. He hoped that anyone who saw you together would think you were his.
“Hopefully my roommates won’t be too loud,” Ethan sighed, as he stuck his key in the front door.
“Nothing is worse than what’s going on in the library right now,” you said, as he shrugged.
“You say that now…”
You barely made it inside when you heard arguing. Ethan sighed in defeat before he turned to you, “I moved in with my friends, and they’re constantly arguing.”
“Oh,” you giggled, as you followed him into the living room of the apartment. “Oh, hey Mindy,” you said, as she turned to you and smiled.
“Hey! What are you doing here?” she asked, as she walked over to you. Chad just stood there, still worked up from the spat they were having when you walked in.
“Ethan’s trying to help me not fail econ,” you said, as she nodded.
“I remember you mentioning you were having trouble with it.”
Ethan was confused as he stood there, because Mindy had never mentioned you, but she seemed to know you quite well. The two of you talked for a few minutes, and once Ethan heard another guy’s name get mentioned, he immediately got jealous.
“I’m proud of you for not giving him another chance,” Mindy said, as you let out a small laugh.
“I’m not going to say I didn’t think about it, but I don’t need him making my life any harder than it needs to be right now,” you sighed, “On top of the bullshit with him, my roommate is just so awful. Like, she woke me up blasting music before the sun even came up today. I’m trying to find somewhere else to live, but I haven’t had any luck yet.”
“Well, we’re looking for a fourth roommate…” Mindy trailed off, as Ethan’s eyes grew wide. “It’d be nice to have another girl here.”
“Don’t tempt me,” you joked, as Mindy smiled.
“Seriously, think about it,” she said, before she started to yell. “Chad!”
You noticed that the other boy was no longer in the room, but you saw him again as he turned the corner and groaned. “What?”
“Okay, don’t be rude,” she snapped, “I’m trying to convince her to move into the fourth bedroom.”
“Oh,” Chad said, his annoyed face turning up in a smile. “Hey, I’m Chad.”
“Hey,” you said, before he started to go over rent and other things you’d need to know. “Why would I want to move in when you two argue like this?” you joked, as Chad tried to play it off.
“We shared a womb, we lived in the same house until we moved into our dorms, and I finally got a break from her,” he said, as she scoffed, “But now we have to live together again and we’re trying to figure out how to do that.”
“I’ve never lived with boys before…and I’m sure my parents would kill me if they ever found out, but I’ll definitely think about it,” you said, before you turned to Ethan. “I’m sorry, you want to study now?”
“Yeah, let’s go to my room,” he said, as he led you there.
You both got settled on his bed. He sat across from you, his back against the headboard as you adjusted to get more comfortable, laying on your stomach. He bit his lip once he noticed the perfect view he had down your shirt, the neckline barely covering anything as your chest was pressed against his bed.
“So, where should we start?” you asked, your soft voice barely getting his attention as he kept staring at your chest. He wanted to squeeze your boobs, suck on them, fuck them, even. “Ethan?” you questioned as you looked away from your notebook, and opened your laptop, completely blocking the sight he was fantasizing over.
“Oh, uh…” he said, as he opened his laptop. “Maybe let’s work on the quiz that’s due this weekend. It’ll show me what you do and don’t need help with.”
You spent over an hour studying with Ethan, and you felt like you were having a little bit of a better understanding. You were starting to get hungry, so you closed your laptop. Ethan glanced over his screen the second he noticed, getting another peak down your shirt again. This time, he saw a part of one of your nipples peaking out of your bra, the sight making his pants grow tighter. He fought off the sound that was threatening to come out before you sat up, once again taking his perfect view away from him.
“I’m starving,” you said, as you started to put your stuff away. “But thank you so much for your help, and I hope you’ll want to keep helping me. You’re my only hope.”
He softly chuckled at your words, “If you move in, we can study whenever you want.”
“You’d be cool with it?” you asked, smiling at him. “You didn’t really say anything out there and I didn’t want to actually start considering it until you said something.”
“Yeah, I think it’s cool,” he said, “If you do want to, and you need help moving or anything, let me know.”
“Thanks, Ethan,” you said, smiling again before you made your way out of his room.
He wanted to walk you to the door, but he knew the second he stood up, his hard cock would be so obvious. He ran his hand over the spot you were laying on the bed, your warmth still soaked up by his comforter. The view down your shirt was burned in his brain as he got up and walked over to the door, shutting and locking it before he dropped his pants to give his aching cock the attention it desperately needed.
The next time you had econ, you walked in and sat down beside Ethan. He didn’t notice at first, but he soon smelled the familiar scent that he couldn’t get out of his head after you’d left his apartment a few days before. He wasn’t sure if it was your hair or the perfume you were wearing, but it smelled delicious.
“Hey,” he smiled, his pupils growing large as he saw you. “Are you okay?”
He took in the stress on your face, and how tired you looked.
“Yeah, are you sure you’re cool with me moving in?” you asked, “Because I can’t deal with my roommate anymore.”
“Yeah, of course,” he said, “What happened?”
“She invites her boyfriend to stay over whenever she doesn’t have class the next morning,” you sighed, “I don’t want to explain all the sounds I had to listen to while I tried to sleep last night.”
“Oh,” he said softly, “Well, your room would be beside mine, and I wouldn’t keep you up all night.”
“I bet that’s why I’m failing this class right now. I never sleep,” you said, as you looked over to him. “Wait, you don’t have a girlfriend that stays over?”
“No,” he said, his cheeks turning pink at your question.
“Sex is overrated,” you shrugged, “But I really thought you would’ve had a girlfriend.”
“Really?” he asked, as your professor walked in.
“Yeah, you’re a cutie,” you smiled, before you directed your attention to the lecture.
Ethan was thankful that you were so focused and didn’t see the cheesy smile on his face. The girl he’d been thinking about as he jerked his cock for the last few days called him cute, and his heart was swelling.
After a couple weeks, Ethan, Chad, and Mindy showed up to the apartment you currently lived in while your roommate was at her boyfriend’s to help you move.
“First, I want you guys to know that none of this mess is mine,” you said, as soon as you answered the front door for them.
“Whoa,” Chad said as he glanced around. “There’s no way you live with a girl.”
“Yeah, you’ll never guess what I found on the kitchen floor this morning,” you said, as Mindy started to think.
“With the mess, I’m going to guess…dead mouse?”
“Not even close,” you said, as you shook your head and shuddered as you thought about it. “It was a condom.”
“Like…in the wrapper or…?” Chad asked, as you, once again, shook your head.
“Used.”
“Ewwww,” Mindy said, cringing at the thought. “Okay, is anything in the kitchen yours?”
“I already boxed that stuff up. Except the dishes that she’s refused to wash,” you said, as you led them to the living room. “The TV is mine, and that lamp,” you said, as you pointed, “But other than that, I really just have to worry about my room.”
“I think it’d be best to have all the heavy stuff in the living room so Ethan and I can worry about that,” Chad said, as you nodded and led them down the hall.
You had already packed up most of your room, which made it so easy for your new roommates to help you. Once Chad was carrying your mattress out and Mindy had ran out to get coffee, Ethan started to glance around your room. He noticed the hamper full of clothes in the corner, and he found himself inching closer towards it as he listened to you and Chad talk in the living room. Before he could stop himself, he grabbed a shirt off the top of the pile, inhaling its scent. He let out a deep breath before he went to put the shirt back in the hamper, before he noticed some black lace sticking out under a pair of your jeans. He snatched it out of the basket and put it in his pocket before he put the shirt back in it once he heard footsteps coming back down the hall.
“Did you need help with this?” Ethan asked, pointing to the basket, trying to make it not seem like he was being weird.
“Shit, I forgot to do laundry,” you groaned, as the realization hit him that the panties he’d grabbed had been worn. “I’ll carry that out.”
“Okay,” Ethan said, before Chad motioned for him to help with the dresser.
Later that day after you got your stuff moved into your new room, you flopped on your freshly made bed as Mindy popped in.
“So, I’m going to try to convince the guys to share a bathroom so you don’t have to share with Ethan,” she said, as you shrugged.
“It’s not a big deal,” you said, “I just hope he doesn’t mind all the girly stuff in the shower and the makeup and stuff.”
Ethan didn’t mind at all. In fact, he’d already been in the bathroom, smelling your body wash, your shampoo and conditioner. The skincare products you used. He realized that all those things together were the cause of the scent that made his head spin.
Later that night after you had takeout with everyone, Ethan excused himself to go to bed. He couldn’t stop thinking about your panties that were still in his pocket. Once he pulled them out, he ran his fingers over the lace before taking in your scent. He softly groaned before he dropped his pants, the thoughts of his face buried in your pussy making him harder by the second. He had them tightly clutched in his fist as he started to stroke himself with his free hand, small whimpers flying out of his mouth as he tried to imagine how soft your hand would feel wrapped around him. His bottom lip was in between his teeth once he started to get louder, the tip of his cock red as be brought himself closer to the edge. Just as he was about to cum, he deeply inhaled the scent of your panties one more time before he rubbed them against the tip of his cock, his thick, white ropes covering the lace.
You thought living with boys was going to be difficult, but your first month wasn’t bad. You were surprised at how clean they liked everything to be, and Ethan always put the toilet seat down. You started to get close to your dorky roommate, especially once you spent so much time studying together. You already thought he was cute, but once you actually got to know more about him, you realized that he was so sweet, so nice. He might’ve been a little shy, too, but he got to the point where he was doing cute little things to make you laugh.
One day, you went to do your laundry in the apartment. You walked over and were about to throw stuff in when you noticed clothes were already inside, and Ethan quickly rounded the corner with the rest of the stuff he needed to toss in.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, “You want me to take my stuff out? I can wash it later.”
“No, it’s fine, I’ll wait,” you said with a smile, before you noticed something familiar in the washer. “Oh,” you said, your cheeks turning pink as you reached out and grabbed your panties out of the washer. “Must’ve dropped these in.”
Ethan’s eyes grew wide as he noticed them in your hand, the realization hitting you that they were sticky.
“Eww, what is all over these?” you said, a disgusted look on your face as you tried to figure it out. You looked over to Ethan, his face bright red and his eyes huge, when you pieced it together. “Ethan…”
He just stared at you, the silence deafening as he tried to think of something, anything to say to you. He’d gotten away with stealing your panties for a month, but it was a way for him to feel close to you, and satisfy some of the sexual frustration he had whenever he thought about you.
“What’s on my panties?” you questioned, as he tensed up. “Actually, I don’t think I want to know.”
You tossed them back in the washer and walked past him and headed straight to the bathroom to wash your hands. When you went to your room and shut the door, Ethan huffed and tossed in the rest of stuff that was in his hands before he started the washer.
As the day went by, you couldn’t stop thinking about Ethan, and how you’d noticed that pairs of your panties had been going missing ever since you moved in. But then you’d randomly see them again, in the top drawer of your dresser after a few days. You didn’t think Ethan was like that, and it made you feel a little uneasy to live with him.
Later that night, you had to say something to him. You walked out of your room and glanced around the apartment for him, before you walked to his closed door and started to knock. He eased it open after a few seconds, his eyes connecting with yours through the small crack.
“Can we talk?” you asked, as he took a deep breath and hesitantly opened the door for you.
You walked in and took a seat on the side of the bed, your gaze on his floor as you tried to think of the right way to talk to him.
“You want me to leave the door open,” he asked, barely above a whisper as you shook your head no.
“If Mindy or Chad come home, I don’t want them to hear the conversation.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled, before he took a seat beside you. “I’m sorry.”
“Why were you stealing my panties?” you asked, as he took a deep breath.
“I can’t explain it without sounding like the total creep you probably already think I am.”
“So…that was what I thought it was on them,” you said, as you turned to look at him. He nodded, looking away to not meet your gaze.
“Again, I am so sorry,” he said, “I know you probably hate me, and I understand if you don’t want to be around me. I’ll stay in my room so you don’t have to see me.”
“I’m just a little confused,” you said softly, as he finally let his eyes connect with yours. “What’s so exciting about my panties?”
At that moment, one thing you said to Ethan started to play in his head. ‘Sex is overrated.’ He was questioning how much experience you actually had.
“Do you really not know or are you fucking with me?” he questioned.
“Like, does it feel good? How does it even turn you on?” you asked, curiously staring at him.
“They uh…yeah, it feels good when I uh…rub them on myself. And they smell like you.”
“They smell like fabric softener and laundry detergent,” you said, a small laugh slipping out as he shook his head.
“I haven’t been stealing clean ones…they smell like you.”
“Oh,” you said, as you looked away from him. “That turns you on?”
“You have no idea,” he said, and even though the conversation was uncomfortable, he was getting hard.
“Why are guys so weird?” you thought out loud, laughing a little as you shook your head. “So does that mean that you like me? Or you’re like…sexually attracted to me? I still don’t fully get it.”
“Both,” he said, “I think you’re so beautiful, and I’ve had so much fun with you this last month…but I also think about you in a different way, too. Ya know?”
“I’ve thought about you that way, too,” you admitted, “It’d kind of hard not to. I hear you through the walls all the time.”
“You’ve heard me?” he asked, a blush spreading to his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I know you hated when you heard your old roommate.”
“I like it when I hear you,” you said so softly that he barely heard it.
“Do you touch yourself when you hear me?”
Your breathing got heavier at his question, and Ethan noticed. You were getting so flustered under his gaze.
“I…I’ve tried to,” you said, as you took in the curious look on his face.
“Tried to?” he asked, “What do you mean?”
“Like…I know what feels good, but I can never get myself…there, if you know what I mean.”
“You’ve never made yourself cum?” he questioned, admiring how cute you looked as you got embarrassed.
“No one has.”
“No one?” he asked, his throat dry at the thought. “Are you a virgin?”
“No…but I’ve never enjoyed sex. Like, it feels good, but I think it’s so disappointing when you hear how amazing orgasms are and then I just never get one.”
Ethan expected the conversation that was happening to go so differently. He thought you hated him, but there you were, telling him that you’d tried to get yourself off when you’d heard him. The thought of him being the first one to make you cum had him salivating, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable if he offered.
“Have you ever…given someone an orgasm?” you asked, as he nodded. “I’m jealous of whoever she is.”
“Don’t be,” he said, scooting a little closer to you. “Fuck, I’d make you cum all the time if I could.”
“Really?” you smiled, “If you ever want to, I’m right next door,” you joked, as he smiled and shook his head.
“Hey, don’t offer that or I’ll be in your room every day.”
You were starting to squirm against his bed, your thighs rubbing together so subtly that he could barely tell. The sexual tension was so thick, your breathing getting heavier as you thought about how good Ethan would make you feel.
“I think I need to go back to my room,” you said, as you started to stand up. That’s when you glanced at Ethan’s lap, noticing the tent in his sweatpants.
“Do you really want to?” he asked, “Because if you want me to take care of you right now, I will.”
“Seriously?” you questioned, as he smiled and nodded.
“Come here,” he said, reaching out to grab your hands, pulling you to him.
Once Ethan leaned in to kiss you, he was almost taken aback by how quickly your lips were moving against his. He was desperate for you, but you were just as desperate for him. He matched your pace before he pushed you back on the bed, his hand running from your hip, up your ribs, until it landed on your breast. You gasped into the kiss once he squeezed it.
You had massive butterflies in your stomach once you felt his cock pressing against your thigh through his sweatpants, your head was spinning, but you were loving every second of it.
“Hey, I have an idea,” he said, once he pulled away to catch his breath. “I think we should go to your room.”
“Why?” you asked because you didn’t want to stop. You needed his lips back on yours.
“Because you have that full length mirror leaning against your wall,” he said, chuckling once you noticed the confused look on your face. “I want you to see what I’m doing to make you cum…in case I’m never here to help you.”
“Okay,” you said, as he stood up and grabbed your hands.
Once he opened his bedroom door, he listened to make sure he didn’t hear anyone else in the apartment before he walked out and to your room next door. He shut and locked your bedroom door once he made it inside, before he pulled you into another kiss. His hands held onto your hips until they started to rub against the flesh under the hem of your shirt. He kept inching it further and further up, until he pulled away to pull it over your head. His lips went back to yours as he reached around to unhook your bra, his hands squeezing at your breasts once they were free.
His mouth moved to your neck as his hands explored your body, before they snaked under the waistband of your leggings. He moved them down over your hips as you shimmied out of them, leaving you in nothing but your panties. He recognized them as the first pair he ever stole, the black lacy ones.
“Fuck,” he mumbled, as his hand moved to rub you over your panties. The material was soaked as you moaned at the feeling. “That feel good?”
“Yes,” you said, quickly nodding your head just in case he needed the extra confirmation. “So good.”
“I hate that I have to take these off you,” he said, as he inched the fabric down your thighs, leaving you completely nude in front of him. “I’m going to sit on the floor in front of the mirror, and I want you to sit between my legs.”
“Okay,” you said, as he took a seat on the floor, his legs spreading for you to sit. You did as he said, looking at him in the mirror as he spread your legs, placing your feet on either side of his legs on the floor.
You watched him lick two of his fingers before he placed them against your clit, rubbing slow circles. Your eyes stayed on the reflection of his hand, your mouth parting as you started to breathe faster. He added a little more pressure as you fully relaxed back into his chest, the softest moans slipping out as he went a little faster.
“Ethaaan,” you whined out, the noise quickly becoming his new favorite sound.
“Shh, I don’t know if anyone else is here,” he said softly, “Just keep your legs spread for me, baby.”
He rubbed a few more circles on your clit before his fingers moved lower, one of them slipping inside you. He pumped it in and out for a minute before he added another, as you angled your neck to look up at him. He leaned down to kiss you as his fingers moved, before he started to mumble against your lips.
“If you ever finger yourself, this…” he said, as he curved them just right, a low moan flying out of your mouth, “Is the spot that needs attention. Okay baby?”
“Okay,” you whimpered, as he moved his fingers faster.
The sounds you were making just kept getting louder, and Ethan was just hoping and praying that no one else was home. One of your hands clung to his thigh as your other hand wrapped around his wrist, as you started to feel…different. It felt so good, and the last thing you wanted was for him to stop. Once he went even faster, the squelching sound of your wet pussy and your whimpers filling the room, your legs were trying so hard to close as your toes curled against the carpet on the floor.
“Oh my god,” you moaned, your fluttering eyes watching his hand in the mirror as your body started to tingle.
“Cum for me baby,” he encouraged, as you finally let that feeling wash over your body. You were jolting, your eyes screwed shut as his fingers started to slow, his free hand roaming your chest as you let out all your sounds.
Once you fully relaxed in his arms, he placed a kiss to the top of your head as your hazy eyes connected with his in the mirror.
“Now you can’t say no one’s ever made you cum,” he said with a smile, as he slid his fingers out of you. “Did it feel good?”
“That was better than I thought it was going to be,” you said, “Thanks, Ethan.”
“You’re welcome.”
You sat there in silence for a minute as you felt his cock pressing against you, and you wanted so badly to take care of him, until you heard commotion in the apartment.
“Hey, guysss,” Chad yelled, as he walked down the hall.
You tensed up as you glanced at your door, before Ethan whispered, “It’s okay, I locked it.”
You relaxed again before Chad started to yell again, “Tara’s here!”
You forgot about hanging out with Mindy and Tara for the night, and you didn’t want to pull away from Ethan, but you hesitantly did, your legs wobbling as you tried to stand. Ethan got up to help you, and once you got your bearings, he started to grab your clothes off the floor for you.
“Thanks,” you said, before you noticed him pick up your panties.
“No, thank you,” he joked, a smirk playing on his lips as he backed towards your door. “I’ll see you when you get back in the morning.”
“I better still have panties in that top drawer when I get back.”
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You're jealous but you can't do anything because you're not dating him (Part 7) - Wakatoshi Ushijima
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
Pairing: Ushijima x Fem! reader
Genre: Angst to fluff
Warnings: none, really? Reader calls him Toshi.
Requested by: @ushisrever
A/N: Can't believe I posted the last update to this more than two years ago. Has it really been that long???? The incomplete series has been bothering me for two years now lmao. Didn't think I'd ever find a fitting scenario for Ushiwaka but thanks to @dira333 helping me sound off some ideas, I was able to get that perfect "snap!" you get when you fit a puzzle piece in perfectly. Gave me enough brain juice to write this out before going back into hibernation.
Serving you some fresh, hot angst and then some lol. Enjoy the burn and then the healing. For someone who was as far removed from Ushiwaka (emotionally) as one can, writing this actually made me see him in a new light. Loved writing him. Hopefully, it stays as true to his canon nature as it can. Hopefully I don't trash this before it's out💀 but if you're reading this, it's good lol.
It feels like the entire Shiratorizawa is at the gates of the school.
"I can't believe she's coming to our school!"
"AAA I can't stop imagining how she'll look in our school uniform."
"Do you think she already has a boyfriend? Maybe I have a chance?"
"I don't know about a boyfriend but you certainly don't have a chance with her."
"Must you always be so cruel?!"
"If you think a star child actor who has made it so big in the industry is going to date a simpleton like you, you're delusional."
You sigh, annoyed, as you try to make your way through the babbling crowd. You're already late for your morning classes and you couldn't care any less about Hoshiko Nakamura. Or any celebrity for that matter.
"In fact, I don't think any boy in this school has a chance with her. Hmm... except maybe Ushiwaka? Not that he'd be interested in dating her anyway. Sometimes I feel like that guy doesn't have any emotions at all."
Your ears perk up at the Ace's name.
Wakatoshi Ushijima has become somewhat of a celebrity at school ever since he was selected for the under 19 representative for Japan in the Youth World Championship.
He was already well known as the formidable volleyball player who crushes any team that he takes on. However, his serious and stoic nature has kept most people from approaching him. Till now, at least.
The girl was right. Wakatoshi wouldn't even think about dating anyone. You seem fairly sure of that. However, the suggestion still leaves a bad taste in your mouth.
You're wrong about him not having any emotions you think as you finally break free from the crowd and sprint towards your classroom.
You've known Wakatoshi for as long as you can remember. You remember when his family moved into the house next to yours when you were just little kids. You remember watching the reserved, determined figure of the boy practicing volleyball all by himself in the nearby park. You remember going up to him and offering to play with him. Out of all these memories, the most vivid of them all was the way his eyes subtly lit up when you said you wanted to play with him.
Time has blurred into a haze since then. Even though you both went to different schools all through junior and middle school years, you both kept alive the tradition of playing volleyball together in park.
"You should come to Shiratorizawa," he had said that fateful day. You both were in the last year of middle school. It was a beautiful evening as you both walked back home from the park, the setting sun throwing hues of red and gold across the partially cloudy sky.
"That's not in my hands. I tried in middle school, remember? I want Shiratorizawa but Shiratorizawa doesn't seem to want me," you said, kicking a pebble on the road. Funny how I could say the same about you.
"That was three years ago. You have grown," he said without pause.
"We'll see. I don't want to get my hopes too high. You know just as well as I do that they give preference to athletes over normal students like me. Casual volleyball games with you are just about as sporty as I get," you said as you reached out to open the gate to your home.
You turned to say goodbye to him and found him looking at you, his expression more serious than usual.
"It's not about athleticism."
"Shiratorizawa only accepts the best. Be it volleyball or anything else. I believe you fit into that category. You should come," he says, looking straight into your eyes.
Your stomach flutters. How could he have so much faith in you? There is no doubt that he believes in you because Wakatoshi Ushijima always means what he says. Almost 5 years of knowing him had taught you that. You still found it hard to digest, though.
"I'll try my best, I promise."
"I know you will."
"Class, please give a warm welcome your new classmate, Hoshiko Nakamura!"
You can't help but gawk at her. Saying she is pretty would be a severe understatement. If she looks pretty on screen, it is nothing compared to what she looks like off screen. You look at your desk partner to see if he is thinking the same. Wakatoshi, however, seems to simply be listening to the teacher.
"Miss Nakamura, I'm sure you will have no problem settling in here. To kind of help you settle in this new environment, I was thinking of seating you next to Ushijima as I believe you two have met before at some of the national events."
The teacher might as well have thrown a bus at you and it would have felt just about the same as you do now.
Hoshiko's face lights up. "That would be great. Wakatoshi-kun has always been a delight to be with. Thank you for having me," she says and bows.
Did she just call him by his first name?
"Ah, Y/N, sorry for springing this on you so suddenly. I wanted to get a hold of you before morning class but couldn't. I hope it's not a problem," the teacher says.
You force a polite smile. "It's not a problem at all," you say and start packing your bag.
Hoshiko walks up to the desk and waits patiently for you to gather your stuff, thanking you again.
Your legs feel heavy as you take the empty seat diagonal to them in the adjacent row.
I'm panicking for no reason. They just know each other from an event. It makes sense to make her sit with a familiar and safe person, given her popularity. Yes, Wakatoshi is definitely the ideal choice in this scenario. He is not someone who would be creepy in any sense. He's also strong and intimidating so it would keep the creeps away. It's fine. It'll be fine. Nothing is going to happen between them... right?
"Wakatoshi-kun, I'm so glad I got to sit next to you," she says, smiling at him, speaking loud enough for people sitting nearby to hear.
"Actually, if I'm being honest, when I decided to come back to my hometown to complete my studies, I knew I wanted to go to Shiratorizawa immediately," she continues.
"Of course. Shiratorizawa is the best school in the prefecture. It's only natural to want to study here," Ushijima says, completely seriously.
Hoshiko blushes. "Ah... that is not what I meant... nevermind," she says, causing the guy behind them to burst into laughter.
It seems like the hollow sensation growing in your stomach is here to stay.
It has been two months since the day Hoshiko joined your school. With Ushijima going to school earlier than usual and practicing late into the night for the Inter High preliminaries, he hasn't been able to spend much time with you lately. Normally, this wouldn't have bothered you because you could see him in class everyday but with Hoshiko now taking your place, you barely get to say more than hi to him.
However, with the prelims now over and the upcoming week-long break ahead, you're hoping to get some one-on-one time with him once again. All these years with him have made him such an intrinsic part of your daily life that it feels like something big is missing when he's not around. To the world, Wakatoshi Ushijima might be a lot of things. But to you, Wakatoshi Ushijima is home. He is comfort. He is strength. He is someone that you know like the back of your own hand. He is someone that your heart always keeps coming back to. He is the only love you have ever known.
You know that he doesn't share the same feelings for you. But that doesn't stop your heart from longing for him.
The lessons for the day are over and you walk back to your class, eager to pack your bag and go home with Ushijima. You wonder if he'll want to go to the park in the evening.
"She's asking him out! She's asking him out!"
"No WAY! I am SO jealous."
A small crowd has gathered around the window and they're whispering amongst themselves as they look outside.
"Man, that Ushiwaka is so lucky! He gets to date the most beautiful girl in the entire country."
"I mean… he is in the nation's top 3 aces and an under 19 representative of Japan. Not to mention he's tall and strong and good looking. They're actually perfect for each other."
Your heart drops down to your feet.
You look out the window and find yourself looking at Hoshiko and Ushijima standing a ways away from the school building. They're in a quiet, secluded spot and Hoshiko seems to be blushing as she says something to him. You see him nod and say something in return. Hoshiko's face lights up in pure delight and even though they are at a distance, you can hear the joy in her voice.
"No way!!!! He said yes?? I thought he wasn't interested in girls!"
"Goddamn it! There goes my chance!"
You feel dizzy as you watch the two of them walk back to school together.
No. This can't be. You have always known that he doesn't like you that way. But you thought he wasn't interested in dating at all.
No. You shouldn't make any assumptions just yet. These gossip mongers are messing with your head. For all you know, he could have said yes to being in a show or something. You shouldn't despair before you hear the truth from him.
You blink back your tears and run to your class. Thankfully, it's empty. You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself and wait. Both of them soon appear in the hallway. The crowd surrounds them instantly, wanting to drown them in questions but Ushijima breaks away from them easily and walks towards the class. He comes up to you.
"Y/N. I'm sorry I won't be able to come to the park today."
It's true.
"Hoshiko and I are going to watch this new movie playing at the theatre-"
He's going on a date with her.
"Apparently it has a lot of volleyball in it-"
He's going on a date with h-
"You should join us."
Huh?
"What?"
"I figured you might like it since you play volleyball with me even though you don't play it otherwise."
What? What? What?? What is happening right now??
Ushijima patiently waits for your answer.
"Uh... Whose idea was it to go to the movie?"
"Nakamura's. Why?"
"And how did she bring up the idea?"
"Well, I was returning from the club and she asked to speak to me in private. And then she told me about the movie and if I wanted to watch it with her."
He didn't get it.
"Ah... Toshi... I'm pretty sure she was asking you out on a date."
His eyes widen with surprise.
"A... date? But she never said she had romantic feelings for me."
Could this mean...? Can I hope...?
"Well, her asking you out on the date was her way of saying it."
"I see. I didn't realise. Thank you for telling me. In that case, I should tell her my feelings for her as well."
He has feelings for her.
Your heart shatters.
You're glad that he walks out right away because you couldn't have stopped your tears from coming out even if you wanted to. You run out of the back door, desperate to get far away.
I guess I was the problem all this time. I just wasn't someone you could look at that way.
You had always known that. You had always known that he didn't feel for you the way you did. But that hadn't stopped you from falling for him. Hard. How could you have not? Eight years of knowing him... You didn't even realise when you fell for him. Loving him just came so naturally to you.
Logically, it makes sense. They make sense. She is beautiful and tall and smart. And so is he. They are the type of couple who would be featured on the cover of a magazine. Which, given their career trajectories, is bound to happen sooner or later.
But the heart doesn't care for logic and at this moment you feel like it will actually burst from the amount of pain you're feeling.
You spend the rest of the evening and the entire night crying in your room.
Morning comes and you feel worse than ever. Your head is throbbing, your nose is stuffy and your eyes are swollen. You decide to skip school. It's the last day before break anyway. Maybe this break will be good for you. It will give you some time to adjust to everything and compose yourself.
You go back to bed and sleep through the entire day.
You thought you'd feel better after getting some rest but you still feel like shit.
You drag yourself out of bed. Your entire body feels like it weighs ten times more.
Maybe a shower and some fresh air will do you good.
You head out.
No matter how much you try to think of something else, your mind keeps coming back to him. Your eyes keep searching for him. You look in the direction of his room. The curtains are open and you can see it is empty.
Of course he's not home yet. He's probably out with her again.
Even though it's barely a minute away, you feel exhausted by the time you reach the park. Thankfully, it is empty.
You sit on one of the swings and look around. Most of your memories with Ushijima are tied to this park. This is where you both have spent the majority of your last eight years together.
All the sweet memories make you tear up again.
"You didn't come to school today."
You were so lost in your head that you didn't realise when he walked up to you. You blink back your tears.
"Oh... hi. Yeah, I - I wasn't feeling very well today," you say, not meeting his eye.
"You seem upset."
He noticed.
"Oh... I'm fine. Really. It's just been a rough day. It's nothing to worry about," you say, still evading his gaze.
He sits on the swing next to you. You look to the side and see he has a volleyball in his lap.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
You quickly avert your gaze again.
"No."
"I see. Well, would you like me to distract you? Talk about something else?"
It is getting harder to keep your tears in check. You're sure your voice will crack if you speak. You just nod.
"You would've liked the movie. It wasn't as focused on volleyball as Nakamura said it would-"
Great. He's chosen the worst topic he could have talked about. You don't want to hear about his date. You need to change the topic. Quickly.
"What are you doing here?" you blurt out the one question that has been weighing on your mind ever since he came here.
"What do you mean? I came here to play volleyball with you."
"I- I mean... I thought you would spend your free time with Ho-Hoshiko from now."
"Why would I do that?"
"B- because you're d-dating her?" Your voice cracks.
"I am not dating Nakamura."
What?
"What do you mean you're not dating her? I thought you liked her. Didn't you go on a date with her yesterday?"
"I do like her. Just not romantically. And no, I went to watch the movie with Tendou. She had already bought the tickets so I bought them from her. I wanted to watch it with you but you went home. "
"But... you left to tell her your feelings for her..."
"I did. I wanted to clarify that I only feel for her as a friend. It was only thanks to you that I was able to tell her in time before I ended up hurting her unintentionally."
"I...see..."
Relief floods your heart. You suddenly feel a hundred pounds lighter. You finally gather the courage to look at him. He is looking right back at you.
"Can I ask you something?" you say, your lower lip trembling.
"Of course."
"Do you have romantic feelings for anyone?"
You instantly regret speaking up as soon as the question leaves your mouth. You know he never lies. And if he doesn't feel the same w-
"Yes. You."
You stare at him blankly.
It's subtle but his expression has changed from completely serious to something a little softer. You can't quite place what it is. Is it concern? nervousness? Adoration?
"R-really? You like me? Romantically?"
"Yes."
"Since when?"
"Ah," he rubs his chin, "I'm not sure..."
You're still having difficulty believing that any of this is real.
"You know," he continues, "After my father, you were the first person who ever wanted to play with me."
He points towards the corner of the park. "I was practicing against that wall that day when you came up to me. Do you remember?"
"Of course I remember. I can never forget that day."
"So many people have come and gone from my life but you have been with me for so long that, I guess somewhere along the way I just assumed you would stay forever. Which, I now realise, I shouldn't have."
He feels the same. He has always felt the same.
"Toshi?"
He turns to you again.
"I love you."
He breaks into a soft smile.
"I love you too."
Holyshit this was a ride. I'm glad I wrote this and I hope you guys enjoy.
Reblogs appreciated. Please do not steal or repost.
Taglist: @pinkiipeachiikeen @duckymcdoorknob @kakiwrites @ebiharachan @r0binscript I wasn't sure if you guys still want to be tagged for this series, seeing that it has been over two years so let me know if you want me to remove you from the taglist.
Check out THIS POST to know what all characters I have written for in this series.
MASTERLISTS | If you enjoy my work and want to, you can Buy me a Kofi!
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It Starts With A Text | Rafe Cameron
Summary - Back from college for the weekend and you get a message from your on again off again fling, none other than Rafe Cameron.
A/n - This is my first Rafe fic and Tbh i have idea where i was going with this, but it came to me in my nightly scenario to fall asleep lmao. This is my first time writing smut in forever so be nice pls, thamks. Not proof read :p
Category - Rafe Cameron x Carrera!Reader
Warnings - smut, Rafe is ooc, but still giving fuckboy vibes.
Word Count - 1.9k
♡♡♡♡
The music played softly throughout your room as you sat at your desk studying. You’re back home, in Outer Banks for the weekend. Finals week is rapidly approaching and you thought coming home to study in the privacy of your own room would help, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Not when you were receiving texts from your sister and her friends every hour, trying to get you to come out with them since you came in Thursday night. It was so bad you had to mute the group chat they created, but that only worked to a certain extent when you lived with one.
A knock echoes through your room, a knock created by you and Kie when the two of you were younger, just to let one another know who it was.
“Yes, Kie?” A small smile appears on your face hearing your door open, knowing exactly what she was about to ask you.
“Are you sureeee you don’t wanna come with us?” Kie questioned hopefully as she hung halfway through your door, “Tonight’s Kegger is supposed to be crazy.”
You snorted at the thought, Outer Banks keggers were nothing compared to the ones you had been to in school, “Nope, I have to get this studying done.”
She groaned coming all the way inside, plopping down on your head, “You’ve been studying since you got here, and the guys haven’t seen you in forever!”
Turning around in your chair, you adored the sight of your little sister laying in your bed with a pout on her face, “I know Kie, but this is important. I promise after finals and I come back home for the summer, I will go to all the keggers you want me to.”
Kie sat up slightly, squinting her eyes, “You swear?”
“Yes, Kiara, I swear.” You chuckled at her face lighting up before she jumped up from your bed.
“Perfect!” She came over to kiss your cheek before making her way out of your room, “Don’t wait up, we’re spending the night at the chateau afterward.”
“Be safe!” You shouted after her as she shut your door. Spinning back around, you huffed as you looked over all the paperwork scattered across your desk, “Back to it.”
♡♡♡♡
Hours had passed as you sat upside down on your bed, legs up against the wall, holding your thick psychology textbook over your head, praying that it didn’t slip out of your hand and fall onto your face. Truthfully, you were tired of reading and wishing that you went with Kie to that kegger, but you knew that in the end, it’d all be worth it.
Your phone pinging pulled your attention away from your book. Thinking it may have been Kie sending you pictures of her and the guys, you decided a small break wouldn’t hurt. But you were wrong, so wrong. The text wasn’t from your sister, in fact it was from none other than the Kook Prince himself.
Rafe (Don’t Answer): You up? 1:36am
You bit your lip, fingers hovering over the keyboard while you decided if you wanted to respond or not. There was a reason why you hadn’t told Rafe you were in town this weekend. One, you knew he’d do everything in his power to distract you from studying. Two, the last time you had seen each other it had ended in an argument that neither one of you had yet to apologize for. So, after typing out responses and deleting immediately, you ultimately decided not to respond, figuring it wasn’t worth it—That was until two more messages came through.
Rafe (Don’t Answer): I know you’re up, I saw you typing. 1:48am
Rafe (Don’t Answer): I’m outside 1:48am
“The fuck?” You mumbled to yourself, scrambling out of bed and to your window. Low and behold, Rafe’s Jeep was sitting in your driveway with him leaning against the front of it, looking directly at your window, “Shit, shit, shit.”
You continued to curse under your breath as you put on a hoodie and threw on your closest pair of slides before you quietly made your way down the stairs and out the front door, and down the driveway til you came face to face with Rafe, “You can’t be here, Rafe.”
The little smirk on his face told you everything you needed to know. He had got you exactly where he wanted to, outside and in his trap. You fell for it every single time, “I didn’t know you were in town this weekend.”
“I know.” You shrugged, purposely being dry. You thought if you showed no interest in his games, he’d leave but unfortunately for you, Rafe knew you like the back of his hands. He pushed up from the hood of his Jeep, turning his hat backwards as he walked over to the passenger side to open the door, nodding for you to get in, “No Rafe, I came home to study this weekend, not anything else.”
“I just wanna talk, Y/n.” He pleaded, putting his hands up, “I swear, no funny business.”
Before your brain could even tell your legs no, they started moving towards him. Rolling your eyes as that smirk appeared back on his face while you slipped into his car, “Stop looking at me like that and get in before I change my mind.”
“Yes ma’am,” Rafe obeyed your orders, closing the door and making his way to the driver's side, getting in besides you, “How’s college?”
“Really? Small talk?” You scoffed. You knew what he really wanted to ask, but of course that would cause him to reveal any real feelings he had towards you, “I haven’t been with anyone else, Rafe. You know that.”
He nodded, gathering his words, his thoughts, choosing them carefully before the two of you ended up arguing like last time, “I’m sorry. For last time—for what I said.” His eyes looked over you, watching you nod to accept his apology.
“Is that all you came to say? You could’ve texted that.” You said, reverting your eyes from your hands to out the window.
“Yeah well, I wanted to see you.” He shrugged, “Is that a crime?”
“It is if you came here after partying with a bunch of girls at the Kegger.”
Rafe chuckled, knowing that tone in your voice, “I was at the Kegger—but I left as soon as I knew you were in town.” He tried waiting patiently for you to look over at him on your own, but he was growing impatient knowing you were doing it on purpose. So, he reached over, grabbing your chin to turn your face towards his, looking into your eyes, “Those other girls aren’t you..”
Your cheeks flooded with heat. You hated the way Rafe could make you blush. All it took was a look and a few words before you were melting back into his arms, no matter how hard you fought. When it came to Rafe Cameron, there was no holding out.
His eyes flicked between yours and your lips as he slowly started leaning in, “Rafe..” You called softly, closing your eyes as you tried your hardest not to give in.
He stopped, lips inches from yours, “Tell me to stop—Tell me to stop, I’ll leave and never bother you again.”
Your brain yelled at you to tell him to stop, to get out of the car and run back inside where it was safe away from this devil of a man,—but your heart? Your heart failed you.
“Fuck it.” You mumbled, crashing your lips into his. Rafe immediately responded, kissing you back with the most passion you had ever gotten from him, or any other man at that fact.
The kiss grew heated as you were halfway across the center console and Rafe’s hands were grabbing onto any body part of yours in his reach, “Come here,” He mumbled against your lips, pulling you over the console and into his lap. Without breaking the kiss, he reached down, letting his seat slide all the way back giving you as much space as the car would allow.
Moans echoed in the car as the two of you grind against each other. Rafe’s hands slid down your sides and up your hoodie, gripping at the bare skin beneath it. One hand slid across your back and the other inched slowly inside your shorts. He was testing his limits, and when you didn’t stop him, he took his shot. His hand plunged into your shorts, only stopping when it reached its destination, pushing his fingers through your folds, feeling your wetness.
“Rafe,” You moaned into his mouth, pushing back against his hand, letting his fingers rub your clit. His eyes were low and hungry. He bit his lip watching you throw your head back as he rubbed into slow, teasing circles. It only lasted a moment before you grabbed his hand, “I need you, I need you right now.”
“Take these off, now.” He ordered, tugging at your shorts. You lifted up as high as you could, helping him pull them down your leg before you kicked them off, landing back in his lap. Your hands immediately started working on his belt, fumbling with it, finally getting it off, along with unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. The both of you lifted up once more, Rafe shoving his pants and boxers down as much as he could. Your pussy throbbed at the sight of dick, hard, red and leaking, “Come here, baby.”
Settling back into his lap, you reach down grabbing the base of his cock. A deep groan fell from Rafe’s lips as he watched you place yourself at the tip of his dick before sliding down on him.
“Fuuuuck,” You both moaned. Foreheads touching as Rafe wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close til you were chest to chest, “I fucking love this pussy,” He groaned, starting to fuck into you.
When it came to fucking Rafe, you could never think a single thought, let alone form a sentence. The only thing that left your mouth were moans and Rafe’s names as he took your poor pussy to town. You knew this was due to the previous argument, this was a make-up fuck and truthfully, they were your favorite.
“Yes, yes, yes, right there!” You cried, burying your face into his neck. A poor attempt at trying to muffle your moans, but that wouldn’t matter. Not with the way his car was bouncing up and down, squeaking here and there. If your parents were to wake up and look out their windows, you’d be screwed.
Nearly jumping out his lap, you gasped when his fingers touched your clit. His arm tightened around your waist, keeping you where he wanted you, “Don’t run baby, you can take it.” He panted into your ear, fucking you endlessly and attacking your clit all at the same time.
You were so close, that familiar knot forming just at the pit of your stomach, hips starting to buck on their own as you gripped the seat, “Rafe, pleasee.”
“Cum for me, baby. Cum all over me,” Rafe muttered, nudging your head so you’d lift your face to his. Immediately, he slammed his lips into yours as he picked up his pace, fucking you until he absolutely couldnt anymore. You tried your best to kiss back, but it wasn’t long before your head flew back, body tensing and your walls squeezing Rafe as you finally reached your peak and fell from it, “Fuuuck, just like that.” Rafe’s groans quickly turned into moans as he came with you, pumping you full of his cum, making sure it was buried deep within your walls.
Goddamnit, you were screwed.
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New Breath, All Mine (Daddy's Here Sequel)
Jake Sully x Daughter!Reader
everyone was heartbroken after the first part, and the demand for a sequel was high, so here it is. also, I want to give full credit to @vampxra for proposing this wonderful sequel idea!
I hope you like this (and also happy birthday @vampxra consider this a b-day present) ! sorry to put y'all through the trauma of the first part hopefully this makes up for it
do yourself a favor and listen to The Songcord during the first part of this one too lmao
enjoy xx.
Time no longer felt like a factor. Your existence was only peace. Smiling to yourself, you stared up at the swinging tendrils of the massive, effulgent Tree of Souls. The sky was dark and the stars--that you admired so deeply--winked down at you. As you laid on your back, allowing the softness of the ground to relax you, the feeling of an additional presence pulled you from your serenity.
Sitting up, you looked around until your eyes fell on a tall figure. As the figure walked towards you, it slowly developed from a silhouette to a blurred image before finally materializing.
Your eyes widened as you stood up, preparing to greet the approaching presence. Though you'd never gotten the chance to meet him, something within you confirmed that he was exactly who you believed he was.
He slowly made his way up the slanted roots before coming face-to-face with you. Your mouth dropped in awe as you gawked up at him. Amused by your reaction, he tilted his head, which slightly agitated the beads in his hair.
"No greeting for me?" he asked, smirking as he opened his arms.
"You are . . ." you breathed, "the great warrior. Brother of my father. Uncle of me. Tsu'tey."
His smirk grew into a smile as you rushed forward before colliding with his chest. As you wrapped your arms around his neck, he closed his arms around your torso.
Tucking your face into his neck, you spoke again. "It is so wonderful to finally meet you."
You felt his large hands briefly rub your back. "And you, as well, my strong little warrior." He pulled away, placing hands on your shoulders. "But, I am afraid I cannot stay."
You frowned at his words. "Why?"
He smiled gently, grabbing one of your hands in his. "I am here to deliver a message to you. The Great Mother has sent me."
Your eyebrows flew up as your lips parted. Remaining quiet, you waited for him to continue. "You have been called," he stated simply.
When you didn't reply, he placed a gentle hand on your cheek. "You have called back--by your family," he continued, "The Great Mother sent me to you, allowing your family to communicate this message. However, the choice is yours."
After a long moment, with wide eyes, you finally choked out a response. "You mean, I can return to them?"
Tsu'tey bowed his head, giving a single nod.
For the first time since you'd arrived--and you had no clue how long you'd been there--you felt conflicted. As much as you wanted to see your family, you felt guilty about leaving The Great Mother when she had called you to her.
Sensing your battling thoughts, Tsu'tey gave your hand a squeeze. Snapping out of your daze, you looked back up at him.
"The Great Mother understands all. Nothing will change her love for you. You will join Her again."
His words were the confirmation that you needed. Joy washed over you as a teary smile crossed your face. Raising his hand to your lips, you placed a gentle kiss on his knuckles.
"Thank you, my wonderful uncle," you whispered, "I wish we could have talked longer. I will miss you."
Another soft smile spread across his face. "We will see each other again," he replied gently, "and we will talk for all of eternity, if that is your wish. For now, go be with your family."
Taking one last look at him, you finally nodded and smiled. He gazed fondly at you before stepping forward. Then, he gripped both sides of your head before leaning in. As soon his lips connected with your forehead, the world around you went white.
-
"The Great Mother protects only the balance of life," Mo'at explained in a low voice, "The choice will be Hers."
"I understand," Jake replied, nodding his head, "I just . . . wanna give it a try."
Mo'at nodded once before raising her hands, signaling for The People to begin. The luminescent areas of the Tree of Souls, and the surrounding roots, began to flash repeatedly. Your body, which your family had brought back to the forest, was spread beneath the glowing tendrils. Slim, glowing tendrils--that were the size of blades of grass--wrapped around your body, connecting your physical body to Eywa. The People chanted--all of their voices becoming one as they begged for Eywa to return your soul.
Jake, who was sitting on your right side, stared down at your peaceful face, praying for a miracle. Neytiri, who sat on the opposite side, watched your state while rubbing a gentle thumb over your hair. Your brothers sat on either side of your legs.
As Mo'at continued to conduct the revival ceremony, the flashing lights grew faster.
"Ting mikyun ayoer, ruxte, ma nawma sa'nok!" Mo'at chanted.
"Srung si poeru, ma Eywa!" The People chanted.
"Please," Jake whispered, "Bring her back to us."
Neytiri, being the only one that heard his words, placed a hand on his. He looked up, meeting her gaze before giving her a soft smile.
"Eo Eywa oe 'ia, eo Eywa oe 'ia, eo Eywa oe 'ia, eo Eywa oe 'ia," Mo'at repeated, rolling her eyes to the back of her head.
Arms spread out, she shook over your body, allowing herself to become lost within the ceremony. The lights within the roots flashed faster, resembling a strobe light pattern now. Then, after a long minute of chanting, Mo'at came to a sudden stop. Snapping her eyes open, she signaled for the people to cease their chants.
She lowered her gaze to your body, moving slowly as she kneeled over you. Jake's heart pounded against his ribcage as he waited for Mo'at to speak.
With an awestruck expression, Mo'at finally broke the silence. "She is with us."
Jake withheld a gasp as he snapped his head to Neytiri. Neytiri, who had been looking at her mother, turned to Jake. They stared at one another for a moment before lowering their gazes to you. Reaching out, Jake brushed a loose strand of hair from your forehead before cupping your face.
The air was still. No one dared to speak, or even take a breath. All they could do was wait.
-
"She is with us."
The echoing voice was familiar to your foggy mind. However, distinguishing who it belonged to was too much effort for you. At the moment, all you could do was try to center yourself.
For the longest time, you felt disconnected--like you were a floating presence, suspended in an airless vacuum. However, ever-so-slowly, you began to feel the world around you.
There was air. It was crisp, but not uncomfortably cold. Something soft was behind you, but you couldn't distinguish what it was. Your existence slowly morphed from nothingness to darkness.
It's dark, you thought to yourself, before realization began to dawn on you, My eyes must be closed.
Then, the object behind you became clearer as you felt gravity pushing down on you.
I'm laying down, you realized, I'm laying down on something soft, and I feel it behind me.
The elements of the surrounding world, that you'd once known, were slowly beginning to materialize in your mind, grounding you from your spiritual state.
As you became aware of the body that you were in, you struggled to move. However, you felt paralyzed.
Slowly, my child. Not yet, an unknown, yet comforting voice rang within your head, startling you, You will return at your own pace.
Suddenly, something agitated you. Then, it agitated another part of you. Concentrating, you tried to picture your surroundings.
My face, you decided, Someone is touching my face.
The touch did wonders to ground you further. It gave you perspective. You relaxed into its warm embrace, allowing the remaining parts of yourself to materialize. Before long, you felt steady.
Your body was laying down on the soft, marsh-like material of the ground. Small tendrils were gripping the sides of your skin. A large hand was cupping your cheek, slowly rubbing a thumb over your cheekbone. At last, you felt like you could breathe.
"Hhhh." A small, almost intangible, sigh, left your lips.
The thumb froze its movements, lifting itself above your skin, hovering shakily over your cheek.
"Baby girl?" a hesitant voice spoke.
It was so close. It had to be right above you. Fatigue faded and a new wave of strength washed over you. Using this strength, you concentrated on the muscles of your eyes. After a minute, you managed to lift them open.
At first, everything was white. However, the white quickly faded as a hazy world transpired before you. You were too busy trying to clear your vision to take notice of the gasps and screams around you.
"Oh Great Mother!" a voice wailed, "Great Mother, thank you! Thank you!"
The back of your head was cupped and two faces nuzzled into your cheeks. Blinking rapidly, you finally saw the world clear around you. The faces lifted, and you met the gazes of your mother and father.
After processing their faces, you finally gained the strength to speak.
"Hi." Your voice came out breathlessly.
Smiling widely, they both broke into a relieved wave of laughter. Their eyes, which were pouring with tears, glanced at each other before returning to you.
"Hello, my love," Neytiri replied as Jake spoke a raspy, "Hi, baby girl."
"Baby sister?"
Your eyes shifted behind your father's head. A joyous expression spread across your face as Neteyam and Lo'ak came into view. Tears were leaking from their faces, as well.
"Big brothers," you greeted, smiling widely at them.
Neteyam ran his hand over his face, wiping the tears, before scooting closer to you. When he reached his hand out, you immediately outstretched yours. The two of you grabbed hands and squeezed tightly. Lo'ak did the same, grabbing your other hand.
"I love you, big brothers," you said before turning to your father, "Daddy?"
He'd been staring at you, an expression of astonishment still evident on his face. "Daddy?" you called again.
He snapped out of his trance. "Y-Yes?" he replied, nerves evident in his voice, "I'm here, I'm here."
"Uncle Tsu'tey," you answered, making his mouth fall agape, "He delivered the message--from all of you. He told me that you all were calling to me, and that The Great Mother could return me to you."
Jake's eyes, which had slightly calmed, were overwhelmed with a new wave of tears. Tilting his head, he gripped the back of your neck.
"Is that right?" he asked, shifting his eyes to Neytiri.
When you turned to your mother, she smiled at you. "He is your family too," she whispered, brushing a finger over your cheek, "He came for guidance."
Nodding your head, you released your brothers' hands before cupping the back of your parents' heads. They leaned in, allowing you to hold them closely. Jake and Neytiri reached their hands out, pulling Neteyam and Lo'ak in as the family wrapped themselves around your small body.
-
As your family walked away from the tree, along with the rest of The People, you looked up at your father.
"Daddy?" you called.
Jake, who had been walking with an arm around your shoulders, looked down. "Yeah, baby?"
Your mother, who was holding the hand farthest from Jake, looked over at the sound of your voice.
"Are we still living with the Metkayina?" you asked.
He sighed before tightening his grip on you. "It isn't safe for you here, because this is our home. It's known to everyone," he answered, making you nod in response, "but with the Metkayina, you'll be safer. And, should anything happen, you'll be protected by Tonowari and his family while we go out on the field."
Gazing in front of you, you answered in a quiet voice. "I won't be fighting anymore."
"No." Jake, Neytiri, Neteyam, and Lo'ak replied together.
"Hell no. Absolutely not. Out of the question," Jake continued sternly, "We lost you once, but were fortunate enough to be blessed with a miracle."
When you didn't respond, he glanced down at you. Sensing his eyes, you lowered your gaze before nodding obediently.
Realizing that he'd let his emotions get the best of him, he halted his movements before turning to you and cupping your face with both hands. "I'm sorry, baby girl. I just--I got a little . . . " He stopped, closing his eyes to collecting his words. "I won't lose you again," he whispered, shaking his head as his eyes grew hazy, "I wouldn't--I couldn't even bear it the first time."
Feeling your own eyes gloss over, you tilted your head before gripping one of his wrists. "I know, Dad. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
His hands, which were rubbing your cheeks, moved up to cup the top of your head. They smoothed over your head and ran down your lengthy hair. He'd always petted your hair, but you knew that this act of comfort was moreso for himself, than for you.
He couldn't believe you were there, standing right in front of him, breathing again. He was so afraid that, if he disconnected his physical touch, you would disappear and fade into a cloud of dust.
"Don't apologize," he finally replied, "Don't you ever apologize for this. If anything . . . we should be thanking you . . . for coming back to us."
He shifted his gaze to look at the rest of your family. Neteyam stepped closer before taking your free hand. After smiling glossily at each member of your family, you looked back at your father.
"I still needed all of you," you replied, "and you still needed me."
Cupping the back of your head, Jake placed a kiss on your forehead.
-
The pain, so familiar, was almost as strong as the first time you'd felt it. The vision of your chest, and the red liquid leaking from it, was branded into your mind. It was so clear, like you were in the moment, once again.
"Y/N."
You looked up at Neteyam, and his petrified gaze that paralyzed you.
"Baby girl, look at me. Open you eyes."
Sucking in a harsh breath, your eyes snapped open as you jerked yourself to a sitting position. Panting, you blinked rapidly before looking around, desperately trying to establish your surroundings.
"Baby, hey. Hey, hey, hey."
Arms were around you, restricting your movements. The panic spiked within you as you thrashed harder, still seized by the terror of your nightmare.
"Shh, shh, shh. I know, I know. It's okay, it's okay."
You finally recognized your father's soft coos. Freezing your movements, you looked around the dimly-lit hut. However, when your eyes failed to locate him, your breath picked up again.
"Dad," you wheezed, feeling your chest tighten up.
"Here, baby," Jake whispered, gently turning your head to face him, "I'm right here."
He was cradling you, but his arms were also restricting your arms, keeping them at your sides. You wheezed as you struggled to break from your frantic state.
"I was--It was--"
He only nodded, rocking you in his lap. "I know, I know."
Jake knew what your nightmare was about. In fact, he'd been expecting this. There was no way that you'd adjust back to your life without the trauma you'd experienced coming back to haunt you in some form.
Your shallow breaths prohibited your ability to form a sentence. "I can't--I can't--"
"I got you," he whispered, nodding down at you, "I got you, baby. It's all over. It's all over."
He grabbed your shaking hand and pressed it to his chest, allowing you to feel his heartbeat. As you rested your head in the crook of his elbow, Jake kept his gaze fiercely trained on you and stopped his rocking movements.
"You feel this?" he asked, squeezing you gently to emphasize his grip on you, "I've got you. You're mine. My baby, my little girl. All mine." He shook his head. "No one's taking you from me ever again."
Shaking all over, you sucked in a harsh, audible breath as tears began pouring down your cheeks. A long, loud sob tore through your lips before you took in another loud breath.
It took everything in Jake to hold back his own tears. The fragility of your state made it imperative for him to show no signs of weakness. You were looking to him for comfort--for protection from the horrors of your mind.
"Big breaths, baby. Big breaths," he instructed, resuming his rocking movements, "That's it."
Using his chest as a reference, you slowly adjusted yourself to imitate his breathing patterns. He flattened his large hand over yours.
"That's my girl." His voice proved to be highly therapeutic for you. It was the first voice you'd heard, and the last one you'd heard. "So good. You're doing so good."
After a long few minutes, he'd finally managed to ground you from your panic attack. Your breaths grew even and your sobs quieted. Apart from Jake's continuous rocking motions, no signs of you distress remained.
"All mine," he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief as he gazed down at you.
As your eyes began to droop, you snapped them open. Finally breaking from Jake's grasp, you sat up before scooting next to him, never taking your hand off of his chest.
He squeezed the hand that he was holding. "What is it, baby?"
"I can't go back to sleep," you whimpered, shaking your head, "I won't."
Jake sighed, completely understanding your fear. However, he desperately wanted you to get some more rest, knowing the toll a lack of sleep could take on you--physically and emotionally.
He thought for a moment, rubbing his thumb over your hand. Then, an idea finally materialized in his head. Gently, he stood up, raising you up with him. When you gave him a questioning look, he nodded towards the hut entrance.
"C'mon," he said, taking your hand and guiding you towards the doorway.
The two of you walked a small distance before arriving at a hammock that your family had set up outside the hut. Jake sat on the swinging object. Then, he spread his legs out and positioned himself to lay down. Finally, he gave your hand a gentle tug, signaling you to come to him.
"C'mere."
He pulled you into the spot next to him, cupping your head as you placed it on his chest.
"I don't want to sleep," you stressed, earning a shush from him.
"We aren't," he whispered, "We're stargazing."
For a long moment, Jake waited until he felt you relax against him--completely letting your guard down--before initializing the second part of his plan.
His mind hadn't wandered to his Earth life in years. However, a soft, Earthling tune, echoing from the distant memories of his childhood, overtook his mind when you'd first protested the idea of sleeping.
Prior to Pandora, music--or any artistic realm--never proved to be Jake's forte. However, life with the Omaticaya had changed every fiber of his DNA. Many nights had been spent singing, dancing, chanting, and celebrating. Therefore, it wasn't too out-of-character for him to sing for you. However, it was unusual for him to sing an Earth song.
"Stay awake, don't rest your head," he slowly began, making your eyes--which you hadn't realized had closed--snap back open, "Don't lie down upon your bed."
He couldn't place where he knew the song from but, for some reason, the lyrics came with a foreign ease. "While the moon drifts in the skies, stay awake don't close your eyes."
Glancing down to check on you, he watched your eyes begin to droop again. Acting carefully, he began petting your head, further coaxing your tiredness. "Though the world is fast asleep, though your pillow soft and deep," he continued, dropping his voice to a lower volume, "You're not sleepy as you seem. Stay awake, don't nod and dream . . ."
Just as he'd hoped, your head fell limp on his chest. Releasing a breath, he leaned down and gave you a kiss. Then, he relaxed against the hammock, enjoying the feeling of your beating heart and peaceful breaths--simple things he was so thankful that you'd been given a second chance at possessing.
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episode four: the body
For the second time within a week, Steve Harrington almost kills you with his stupid BMW. Granted, the first time wasn’t necessarily his fault due to your crying, but this time just felt personal.
“Hey! Henderson!”
“Jesus christ-” You’re biking to the Wheeler’s, lost in thought as the sun begins to set, when stupid Harrington scares the shit out of you.
His unexpected shouting causes you to swerve your bike towards his car and he has to slam on his brakes to avoid hitting you.
“Do you, like, have a fantasy about me hitting you with my car?”
summary: you basically have a "no babe don't cry over ur dead brother ur so sexy" moment with jonathan, hopper plays mr love doctor (cute date idea: coffin shopping), and somehow nancy wheeler makes you realize that you're a horrible babysitter and an even bigger idiot. meanwhile: steve harrington is frustratingly charming.
rating: general but plenty of cursing as usual.
warnings: cursing, fem!reader, and use of y/n.
words: 8k
before you swing in: hello ! happy eve of a spending time with loved ones, however ya choose to celebrate or not celebrate and all that jazz. i hope y'all are well and doing okay :) a LOT happens in this chapter, so buckle up. so many feelings and revelations my god. also this chapter is one i really loved writing purely because i got to explore more of steve and reader so ,,, ya welcome ! (hopefully i was able to clear up jonathans thoughts and how he processes, i really want it to come across as someone hurt and overwhelmed rather than just him being cranky lmao). anyways, enjoy !!
-
It’s a quiet morning.
You roll over, the sunlight streaming through your curtains, and for a moment you forget. It’s a blissful moment, sweet naivety that strokes your cheek and coaxes your eyes open. As you throw your arms over your head and stretch, last night’s events haven’t caught up to you quite yet.
Then you feel Jonathan’s body next to yours and for a moment you’re confused. He never sleeps in your bed whenever he spends the night, being ever the gentleman. No matter how many times you offer, he always insists on respecting your mother’s wishes and sleeping on the giant beanbag chair within your room, and it always makes your heart warm.
Your mother had specifically bought the beanbag for Jonathan when you were thirteen. He had been spending more and more nights at your home, sneaking in through your window to avoid his parents fighting. At first he would simply fall asleep on your carpet, despite your many reassurances that he could sleep in your bed, so when your mom unexpectedly barged into your room one morning and saw him lying face down on the ground, she freaked.
Once you had explained everything to her (with Jonathan’s permission), she had shoved you guys into her car, dropped him off at his house, and then found the beanbag at a garage sale for $10.
“This way, he’ll have a place to sleep that’s soft and cozy, away from my young daughter,” she had said during the drive home. You had covered your face in embarrassment at her implication, but you were also incredibly proud to call her your mom at that moment. She may be overbearing at times, but she was the kindest woman you’ve ever met.
You rub your eyes and glance at the bean bag that sits between your bed and wall, its dusty blue color almost glowing in the early morning light. Then you glance at Jonathan, who has woken up before you, and notice the redness in his eyes and the dark circles now darker than ever.
Then it all comes rushing back to you.
Will’s body in the quarry.
Holding your brother as he mourned his friend.
El, so quiet and shy and sweet, running away after your cruel dismissal.
Jonathan showing up to your window hours later, broken and devastated.
Then, late into the night, the two of you falling asleep, side by side in your bed, both needing each other more than ever before.
The two of you get ready without saying anything. You hand Jonathan some spare clothes of his that you keep in a drawer before giving him some space as you go and take a shower. You spend longer than usual getting ready, but you pay no attention to the clock. There’s no way you’re going to school today. You’re not leaving Jonathan alone for even a second.
Jonathan finishes getting ready before you do and waits in your room. Neither of you have said anything yet, last night being too fresh in your memories, but words aren’t needed between the two of you.
You take his hand and lead him into your kitchen and wordlessly hand him a banana. He stares at you, and you stare back, silently challenging him to decline the food. He needs to eat. You’ve noticed how thin he’s gotten with everything happening.
He sighs, knowing he won’t win this fight, and takes a bite out of the banana in a mocking manner, but you’re just relieved he’s eating.
You grab your own breakfast before writing a note for your mom, informing her that you’ll be with Jonathan today and promising to make up any missed assignments as soon as you can. Then you quietly go into Dustin’s room to check up on him, but his bed is empty. You glance at his alarm clock and note the early hour, he doesn’t normally leave for school for another thirty minutes, which makes you frown.
Where the hell did the kid run off to?
An uneasy feeling settles over you, but you don’t have time to question anything. Knowing Dustin, he ran off to school earlier than usual to see his friends and distract himself from last night. While your mom offered you both to stay home for the rest of the week due to Will’s death, neither of you have ever been good at staying put and dealing with your emotions.
Wherever your brother is, you know he needs his space.
Once everything is settled, you join Jonathan in his car and drive to his place. While he never explicitly asked you to this morning, you know that you’re going to his house with him to help him deal with his mother and the funeral preparations.
He doesn’t have to ask, and you don’t have to tell him that you’ll help.
You both just know.
About halfway to his place, Jonathan finally speaks.
“The cops say that Will crashed his bike and fell into the quarry,”
“Jonathan, we don’t have to talk about it right now-”
“My mom doesn’t believe that he’s dead. She-she insists that he’s in the walls, that he can speak through-through… Christmas lights.”
His voice shakes as he speaks, and you can’t tell if it’s due to grief or anger.
“Will is dead and my mom chooses to believe that there’s some monster in our walls that took him.”
“A monster?” you think about El and her powers and the fear on the boys’ faces when she pulled out the Demogorgon piece. Then you remember the other night at the Byers’ home when Joyce came running outside as the lights were flickering wildly. Her fear had been genuine.
“A fucking monster that’s hiding in our walls. She wouldn’t… she wouldn’t listen, Y/N. I tried talking to her, to calm her down, but she just…” His words fade off, and he clenches his jaw as tightens his hands around the steering wheel.
You’re not sure what to say. It’s a tough situation, a fucking heartbreaking one, and it’s all so unfair. Jonathan needs his mom, but his mom needs Will.
You rest your hand behind his head and allow your fingers to rub circles against his skin. He leans into your touch, and for now this is all you can do.
The state of the Byers’ home has only gotten worse since the last time you were there. There’s now letters painted on the wall and string lights placed all throughout the house. There’s also clothes in random corners and trash thrown around.
Jonathan had been staying in this house alone, watching his mother spiral. Your stomach twists with guilt.
You should’ve been there more for him, but instead you allowed your petty need to help everyone distract you from what’s important.
Joyce is passed out on the couch with an ax clutched between her hands, which breaks your heart even more. Jonathan walks over to wake her up and you give the two of them some privacy as you head into the kitchen to make Joyce some breakfast.
Their fridge is barren, but you aren’t surprised. You make do with the few eggs you find and get to work; it isn’t much, but it’ll have to do. As you prepare breakfast, you notice a stack of Will’s drawings on the kitchen table, which causes you to gag with remorse.
There’s still so much of Will within these walls, his entire childhood still locked inside, untouched, and yet the house lacks his presence.
He’s gone.
–
You wait with Hopper in the morgue waiting room, nervously tapping your foot and frantically trying to distract yourself with a comic. The words blur together in your head and the images float around. You can’t focus on anything. For once, Spidey’s quips and banter can’t distract you from reality.
Not only are you incredibly worried for Joyce and Jonathan, but the thought of Will’s body being a wall away from you sends chills down your spine. You can’t imagine what’s happening behind the doors, and you’re secretly relieved that you’ll never know.
“What’s taking so long?” Hopper’s voice breaks you from your thoughts.
You put your comic down and listen, figuring that it’s best if you’re caught up on everything so that you can store away any useful information for later.
The front desk lady sighs. “Well, everything’s been a bit chaotic around here without Gary.”
This catches Hopper’s attention. “Without Gary?”
“I thought you knew. Those men from State, they… they sent Gary home last night.”
Now this catches your attention. Why would the State replace the town’s coroner?
“So who did the autopsy?”
“Someone from State.”
Hopper looks at you, almost as if to ask if you’re also hearing this, and you give him a slight nod. It’s odd, really damn odd.
“Why would they send someone for a little boy?” You ask Hopper, but he only shakes his head in response.
In the back of your mind, you think about what El had warned you of. The bad men, the people she has to hide from… it didn’t make sense at the time, but now…
Your thoughts are cut off as Jonathan runs out the door, his hand over his mouth, and you immediately get up to help him outside. He throws up against the wall outside, and you wince at the smell. You’ve never been good with people getting sick, but Jonathan needs you right now, so you rub soothing circles on his back as he throws up. Once he’s done, you head back inside and wait for Joyce.
You offer Jonathan a tissue before coaxing him to rest his head on your shoulder. Having nothing else to do, yet urgently wanting to help, you begin to read him some panels from your comic. He doesn’t say anything, so you take it as a sign to keep going. Your voice is hoarse from all your crying, but you read aloud anyways.
Hopper watches your interaction with a small interest. You don’t notice his curious eyes and the way they seem to glint with sincerity. In his eyes, the two of you will get together soon enough.
After a couple minutes, Hopper finally asks Jonathan how Joyce is holding up. The boy straightens up, but grabs your hand to steady himself, and responds as best as he can. He explains the lights, the letters on the wall, everything.
“She’s had anxiety problems in the past, but this…? I don’t know.” He takes a shaky breath, and you draw reassuring patterns on the back of his hand. “I’m worried it could be… god, I don’t know.”
“She’s grieving,” you remind him, and he nods.
“Yeah, she’s grieving, but she’ll be okay. We’ll be okay; my mom, she’s tough.”
“Like Spider-Man,” you say, though you don’t really mean to. You’re tired and the words just slip out, but Jonathan begins to laugh.
“Yeah, like Spider-Man, you’re right. Thanks, bug.”
“Anytime, bee.”
Jonathan smiles at you, still softly laughing, and it’s then that you realize. He hasn’t laughed in days, he’s hardly even smiled, and yet here he is, smiling at the stupid nickname you gave him and laughing at the stupid joke you didn’t even mean to say; you realize you’d do anything to get him to laugh again, to give you that smile that he’s only ever reserved for you. He squeezes your hand and his eyes shine for a moment with a familiar warmness that has always made you weak.
It hits you like a cold, cruel wave on a harsh winter day.
You’re in love with Jonathan.
Fuck.
It’s horrible timing, and you feel sick with guilt for realizing that you love your best friend merely hours after his brother has died, but now it’s all you can think about.
You love him, you love him more than you’ve ever loved anything before, but you can’t tell him. It wouldn’t be fair, and you don’t have the time.
You’re thankful when Hopper begins to talk again, reiterating that Joyce is tough, so that you have the time to process your newfound feelings.
Then Joyce comes crashing through the door, screaming about how whatever is in the other room isn’t Will, ignoring everyone who tells her to calm down. Both you and Jonathan stand up to calm her down, your comic dropping to the ground in the process, but she doesn’t listen and instead runs outside.
“Mom!” Jonathan follows after her.
You sigh and tuck your hair behind your ears before picking up the comic. You know that Jonathan needs to be alone with Joyce right now, give them some privacy, it’s a personal matter. More personal than anything else, and yet you also selfishly don’t want to be near him for a few moments so you can collect yourself as well.
As you’re gathering your things, Hopper clears his throat.
“Do you love him?”
You freeze, having not expected such a personal question. You’ve only just realized your feelings for him, how the hell has Hopper already figured it out? “What does it matter? His brother is dead and his mom is losing it.”
Hopper rubs his hand over his face, giving you a warning look. “But do you love the kid?”
It’s the way he says it, like it means life or death, that has you respond, “I do.”
“Take care of him, then.” He looks you in the eyes as he says it, urging you to understand the weight of his words, and you do.
You’ve heard about how his daughter had died and his wife divorced him soon after. They’d only ever been rumors to you, but now you know that they’re true. He’s telling you to take care of Jonathan, that your love for him means that you have to take care of him in a way that no one else can.
In a way, you suppose that you and Hopper aren’t so different after all, and you gain a new sense of respect for the man.
You swallow deeply and nod at him before excusing yourself to follow after Jonathan and Joyce.
–
The mother and son in question are a few blocks down the street, Joyce waving her son away as he follows her with the car.
You sigh.
This day definitely sucks.
Running up to them is a pain in the ass, honestly. You get that you gave them some privacy, but damn. Did Jonathan seriously have to take the car as well?
When you finally catch up, he’s parking. “Hey, what are you-”
He doesn’t spare you a glance as he turns the engine off and runs after his mom.
“Seriously?” You groan, clutching at a stitch in your side from running. Usually you’re a great runner, actually choosing to go for a run whenever you’re particularly stressed out or anxious. However with the shitshow that this week has been, you haven’t gone on your morning run in a while and you’re starting to feel the effects of being out of practice.
Joyce, being surprisingly fast, is hard to catch up with, but you do your best as Jonathan sprints ahead of you. When he finally reaches her, he grabs at her jacket with a determined look in his eyes.
You hang back, now regretting the fact that you left the coroner’s office in the first place.
“Mom, stop!”
“Just go home, Jonathan.”
“No, this is not an okay time for you to shut down.”
“Shut down… what-” The confusion in Joyce’s eyes is enough to make you feel Jonathan’s frustration as well. You feel for the woman, you really do, but she has another son to worry about. Jonathan is still here, he’s lost his own baby brother, he needs his mom now more than ever.
But Joyce, too lost in her own grief and desperation, can’t see that.
“We have to deal with this, mom. We have to deal with the funeral!” You’ve never heard Jonathan raise his voice at his mom before, but after days of begging for her attention, you’re proud of him for defending himself.
The word “funeral” seems to snap Joyce out of her daze and once again she goes on her tangent about how Will’s body isn’t really back at the morgue, that he’s still alive, and Jonathan’s anger in his voice makes you ache.
As he and his mom continue to yell at one another, a few nosy people in the town area stand and watch. They whisper to each other, no doubt about how Will’s death has made Joyce Byers crazy, and you kick a few rocks at them.
“Fuck off! At least pretend that you aren’t a bunch of nosy assholes like most decent people do.” A woman sneers at you, but you wave your arms above your head, “Oh! Scary! Get fucked!”
Eventually they do as they’re told and walk away from the screaming mother and son, which pleases you.
You really hope that random lady wasn’t a patron of Bookstrordinary though.
“Yeah, well, while you’re talking to the lights, Y/N and I will be planning a funeral for Will!” Jonathan’s voice is laced with bitterness as he screams at his mother, breaking your heart even more. “I’m not letting him sit in that freezer another day!”
Joyce storms off, but you notice that her shoulders shake with tears as she leaves.
It’s such a devastating situation, and while you’re also frustrated with the way she’s been treating Jonathan, you also know that maybe her craziness isn’t exactly “crazy”. El is still out there, even if you’re not sure where, and you think about how she was able to control the comic book and the game pieces. The static electricity you felt in the air when she used her powers, the same static you felt at the Byers’ home a few nights ago when Joyce came running outside with the lights flashing and Will’s song playing on the radio.
But then you think about how El promised that Will was alive.
He isn’t; you see his dead body every time you close your eyes.
So really, what is there to believe?
Lost in thought, you don’t notice Jonathan walking towards you until he grasps at your arm and flings you along back to the car with him. He’s breathing heavily and you notice that he’s shaking. He’s in no condition to drive.
As you near the car you quickly reach around and grab his keys from his pocket before running over to the driver’s side and throwing yourself into the seat. Jonathan hates when you drive the car, not because you’re a bad driver, but because some part of him truly believes it’s impolite to make a girl drive.
As cute as you think his chivalry is, today you couldn’t give more of a damn.
Jonathan stands outside your door. “Y/N-”
“Nope, no time to argue, Byers. Get in.”
“But-”
“In.”
He does as he’s told, albeit with some attitude, but eventually the two of you are off. Without having to ask, you drive to the local funeral home. While you and Jonathan are similar in many ways, the one thing that pulls you together is planning. You both cling onto the stability that planning provides, and right now Jonathan is clinging onto his responsibilities for Will’s funeral.
Like he told his mom earlier, you and him have a funeral to plan.
The funeral home is closer to the edge of Hawkins, so the drive is a longer one. Along the way Jonathan slowly begins to calm down, untensing his shoulders and releasing his clenched jaw. You let him take all the time he needs, thankful that for now you have some time to yourself to reflect over today’s revelation.
You love Jonathan.
Those three words are heavy within your chest, and you almost don’t want to think about them, but you know that sooner or later you’ll have to. You glance at Jonathan, the late fall sun casts a warm glow on his face that for a brief moment brings back the boy you knew only a week ago, before everything changed. Then he turns to face you and you see the red in his eyes, his cheeks sunken in, and you know that you don’t have the time to unravel whatever you feel for him.
He needs his best friend right now.
Jonathan’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, his voice cracking a bit from disuse. “Can we talk about yesterday?”
You cast him a quick glance. “Yesterday?”
“Our… our fight, I guess.”
“Oh,” you shift your hands on the steering wheel, now suddenly painfully aware of the silence within the car. “We don’t have to right now, bee. We should be focusing on the funeral arrangements.”
Your voice catches on the word “funeral”, it still hasn’t sunk in yet that Will is really gone.
“Bug, for the past eighteen hours all I’ve been thinking about is Will,” he takes a shaky breath and you gently place a hand on his, encouraging him to keep talking, “but when I’m not thinking about him… I’m thinking about you and what-what you said yesterday.”
“I said a lot yesterday-”
Jonathan gives you a pleading look. “Please just let me get this out, okay?”
You purse your lips but remain silent.
“I will never, ever deserve you. This week and my actions have proven that. This isn’t some pathetic attempt to make you pity me, I was an asshole to you and I recognize that. You love people in a way that terrifies me, Y/N. You’re my best friend and I think I would actually die if I ever lost you.”
A snort escapes your lips, “you probably would.”
“I definitely would, but this isn’t about me. I’m so, so sorry for how I’ve been treating you lately and the fact that you’re driving me to a funeral home after watching my mom have a meltdown in the town square without even batting an eye is all the more proof that you’re too good for me.”
“I wouldn’t say too good, but yeah. Close enough.”
“It’s more than enough, bug. That’s what terrifies me: I’m afraid that I’ll never be able to repay you for all that you’ve done for me, even before Will disappeared; you’ve been taking care of me since we were twelve.”
His words hang in the air as you allow them to wash over you. There’s so much you want to disagree with, namely the fact that he doesn't deserve you, but you know that he wouldn’t want to hear your arguments.
Again you think about how similar the two of you are, and while you both give your all to the people that you love, your love comes freely while Jonathan has grown up believing that it comes with conditions. It’s never been a problem in your relationship until now, but you guess with how much you’ve been overcompensating for everything, the need to return it all has caught up with him.
Finally, you speak. “You feel that you can’t accept my help because I’ve already done enough for you. Is that it?”
“Yeah,” Jonathan takes a deep breath. “I know it’s stupid, especially because I’m asking for your help right now with the funeral preparations, but…”
“I understand, but we’ll get through it,” you pull into the funeral home parking lot and turn the car off. “We always do, right?”
“Right,” Jonathan’s smile is a weak one, but you accept it nonetheless.
“Now, you ready to go look at children’s coffins like real men and women do?”
He laughs at your poor attempt at a joke, but even he can admit that objectively the entire situation is morbid. “Only real best friends go coffin shopping together.”
“My thoughts exactly, good sir.” Then, before you forget, you reach over and whack Jonathan’s head with the back of your hand.
“Ow! What was that for?”
You shrug your shoulders, “ask Nancy.”
And with that, you unbuckle your seatbelt and head into the funeral home, trusting that Jonathan will follow eventually enough. Things aren’t exactly the same between the two of you, especially with your newfound feelings for him, but it’s a start.
“I deserved that,” you hear Jonathan grumble, which makes you smile.
You’ll take whatever you can get.
–
You spot Nancy before Jonathan does.
It wasn’t intentional, really, but the funeral home director was droning on and on about the different wood selections for coffins and finishes that you can customize and it all makes you want to throw up; the coffins before you are so small, you weren't really paying attention in the first place.
She stands in the doorway and motions for you to get Jonathan’s attention, who is deeply focused on everything the old man is saying. A part of you wants to ignore the girl, but the scared look on her face tells you that this is something serious.
You nudge your shoulder against Jonathan’s and point at Nancy; he excuses the two of you as you walk towards her.
Jonathan shoves his hands in his pockets, a bit guarded. “Hey,”
“Hey, your mom, um… said you’d be here.”
“You talked to Mrs. Byers?” You ask, feeling a sudden possessiveness over the woman. Sure, you were kind of okay sharing Jonathan with Nancy so long as she was with Harrington, but Joyce? She’s like a second mother to you.
It made you uneasy that Joyce even talked to her in the first place.
Nancy tilts her head at you. “Yeah, it was only for a brief moment though. She seemed pretty… distracted.”
“No shit. Her son died, Nancy.”
The girl flinches a bit at your tone, which causes Jonathan to yank at your sleeve and shove you behind him. “Ignore her, we’ve had… Well, it’s been a long day.”
You feel your shoulders drop and unclench your fists. “Sorry, is everything okay? Is it the boys?”
“No, they’re fine, I just,” Nancy’s eyes shoot towards you, uncertain, before directing them towards Jonathan. “Can we talk for a second?”
The photos Nancy shows you makes your blood run cold. They start with Barb sitting alone by the pool, but slowly she pulls out more and more pieces of the torn picture to create a terrifying image with a shadow-like figure looming over her friend.
Jonathan tries to sum the shadow up to lens distortion, but you know that he’s wrong. Nancy asks more questions, trying to figure out exactly what has happened to Barb, but all you can think about is El.
You check the time on your watch and curse. It’s late afternoon now, you’ve been gone with Jonathan since early this morning. Dustin hadn’t been in his room when you left and you stupidly assumed that he’d gone off to school. Now, seeing the picture of Barb and that thing… Something is so goddamn wrong.
“The cops think that she ran away,” Nancy says.
“Just like they did with Will,” you’re whispering more to yourself than to them, but Jonathan hears you anyway.
“Maybe she did run away-”
Nancy shakes her head. “No, she wouldn’t do that. They don’t know Barb. When I went back to Steve’s… I thought I saw something.”
Your head shoots up. “Nancy, what did you see?”
“Some weird man,” the urgence in your voice confuses the girl, but you silently push her to keep talking, “or… I don’t know what it was.”
Both you and Jonathan are quiet afterwards for very different reasons.
He’s quiet because he probably thinks Nancy is crazy, just like his mom.
You’re quiet because you’re currently afraid you’ve accidentally left your idiotic brother and his friends and El alone with very real monsters and possible bad men. The figure Nancy saw… El being terrified of bad people finding and hurting her…
Well shit.
“I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t have come here today-”
You stop Nancy from leaving. “No, you should stay… I think,” you look at Jonathan, nervous for how he may react to what you’re about to say. “I think I might have an idea of what you saw last night. A lot has happened since Will disappeared, things that I’m still trying to understand, but I think I know where to start finding an explanation.”
Jonathan turns to you. “What? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Technically I did try telling you a few nights ago but then you yelled at me and threw a jacket at my face-”
“You threw a jacket at Y/N?” Nancy asks, which you and Jonathan ignore.
“But for now I can’t tell you anything else. I made a promise, and I’m not sure I’m right or even sane for considering it an explanation, but we need to leave. Now.”
“A promise? To who?” There’s an edge of hurt in Jonathan’s voice and you desperately wish you could explain more to him, but now isn’t the time. Not with Nancy sitting between you two and her own brother involved. You don’t want to cause any unnecessary worry for her; right now she needs to focus on Barb. You’ll wrangle in the boys, it’s your fault they’re even alone right now with El.
“I can’t exactly say who, but just trust me, okay? Again: I really hope I’m just insane and worried about nothing and that this will all be an embarrassing laugh for us later.”
“Y/N-”
“Jonathan, we need to go.”
“‘We’?” Nancy now speaks up, seemingly fed up by your vague exchange with Jonathan.
You try to collect yourself and pretend like you have some amazing plan. “Yes, we. Jonathan will take you to the photo developing room at school and see if you can make the pictures clearer. On the way there, he’ll drop me off at home so I can grab my bike and head out.”
“And what will you be doing?” The boy asks.
“Tracking down my brother, unfortunately.”
He gives you a doubtful look. “C’mon, you can’t expect me to just let you run off on your own without more of an explanation.”
You know he’s right, but you just… you can’t tell him about El and the bad men yet. You can’t. Not until you know for sure what the hell is happening.
“I’m sure it’s nothing… but just in case, I really need to find Dustin, okay?”
I’m a really, really bad babysitter, you think.
Jonathan opens his mouth again as if to argue, but you hold your hand up to silence him. You really don’t want to waste time fighting with him. He has to trust you on this, whether he likes it or not.
He sighs with defeat, “Just be safe, please.”
You also really don’t want to put anyone else in danger. It’s bad enough that you allowed the boys to get dragged into this mess, but you refuse to drag your best friend in as well. But really, who knows? Maybe you’re just a regular idiot who believes in fairy tales and monsters, not some idiot who leaves three overly naive boys alone with a girl with superpowers.
God you hope you’re just a regular idiot.
However, if Joyce believes that Will is alive, even without the knowledge of El and her powers, then you’re sure that the boys also believe he’s alive and will inevitably go looking for him again. Alone. In the same woods Nancy saw that strange figure.
You cast those thoughts out of your head and give Jonathan what you hope is a reassuring smile. “When am I not safe?”
You really, truly hope that you’re just an idiot, but if the photos that you just saw scare you. Before he can change his mind, you quickly reach over and snatch Jonathan’s keys from his jacket and give him a peck on the cheek before running out to his car.
“I call shotgun, Nancy!”
–
Unsurprisingly, the drive with Nancy and Jonathan is an awkward one. Things are still a bit tense between you and him for reasons you’re not sure you can tell him about just yet, and now Nancy is in the backseat trying not to make any sound, so really it was a doomed car ride from the start.
It’s not that you don’t like the girl, but there’s something about the way she acts around Jonathan that honestly makes you want to collapse. You know she’s with Harrington, but the tenderness Jonathan has shown her the few times they’ve interacted makes you uneasy.
Yesterday you chalked the uneasiness to simply never sharing Jonathan before, but now you know the truth.
You’re jealous because you’re in love with him.
It’s a nauseating feeling.
“So, how long have the two of you been friends?” Nancy’s question surprises you, mostly because she should already know the answer. You know she’s just trying to make conversation, but the question itself further reminds you of why the two of you had drifted apart in the first place.
“I moved here when I was twelve, remember? Your family helped us move in.”
“Oh, right. Sorry,” You see Nancy nervously playing with her fingers in the rearview mirror, which makes you feel bad. She’s trying, you know she is.
“It’s fine,” you try to catch her eye, and when you do you give her a smile. “I know you probably don’t remember much from that day. It was the middle of the school year and our brothers immediately started being annoying together, so you had gone inside after only a couple minutes.”
Nancy laughs, now remembering that day. “Didn’t Mike hold an initiation for Dustin that night?”
“Yeah,” you laugh with her now. “That’s actually how Jonathan and I met. Remember, bee?”
Jonathan’s smile is a soft one, a smile that makes you feel weak because you know you’re the reason it’s there. “Of course I do. We both showed up at the Wheeler’s house at the same time to pick up our brothers.”
“And then-”
“I answered the door.” Nancy finishes for you.
“Yup. Ever since then, Jonathan hasn’t been able to get rid of me.”
“It’s been horrible,” he says with a monotone voice, but it’s clear to everyone that he’s joking.
You punch his shoulder. “You weren’t complaining when I saved you from those bullies later that week.”
Jonathan gives you a pointed look and tries to subtly motion towards Nancy, clearly embarrassed that you've brought the bullies up in front of her. Like he wants her to think he’s someone cooler than he really is.
Your smile vanishes.
He wants to impress her.
“Right, sorry,” you clear your throat and if Nancy notices your sudden mood change, she doesn’t say anything. You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment and remind yourself that what matters right now are the boys and El. They should be your priority, not petty boy drama.
Luckily Jonathan pulls into your driveway not long after the abrupt conversation ending, which you’re thankful for.
You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face Nancy, and it takes everything in you to force a smile on your face. “Alright, well, this is my stop! Nancy, I’m trusting you to tell me whatever you and Jonathan find. I’d ask him to keep me updated, but I know he’ll inevitably forget.”
The girl nods at you. “You can trust me.”
Can I?
Although you’re not exactly sure what it is that you don’t think you can trust her with. Then, your eyes drift to Jonathan and the way he’s staring at her from his own mirror, and you realize that maybe she’s not the one you should be worried about.
“Good,” you turn to Jonathan now. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
“And I’ll answer… probably.”
“You’re so sweet to me.”
“I know, right?”
You snort at the boy and wave goodbye to him and Nancy before getting out of the car. Your bike is in the shed, so you motion to Jonathan that he’s good to leave. When he’s sure you’re okay, he waves at you one last time and drives away.
It feels like you’ve made a huge mistake as you watch Jonathan and Nancy leave, but you don’t have time to think about why. Dustin’s bike isn’t in the shed alongside yours, which you expected, and you have to find him.
Your brother and his idiotic friends need you right now.
–
For the second time within a week, Steve Harrington almost kills you with his stupid BMW. Granted, the first time wasn’t necessarily his fault due to your crying, but this time just felt personal.
“Henderson!”
“Jesus christ-” You’re biking to the Wheeler’s, lost in thought as the sun begins to set, when stupid Harrington scares the shit out of you.
His unexpected shouting from the other side of the road causes you to swerve your bike towards his car and he has to slam on his brakes to avoid hitting you.
“Do you, like, have a fantasy about me hitting you with my car?”
You glare at the boy. “You are a man, I am a woman. It’s getting dark outside. What exactly made you think it’s a good idea to yell out at me?”
“Well, I mean, I called after you.” He says, so matter of factly that it makes you want to strangle him.
You hate him. You really do.
A strand of hair has fallen in your face, so you blow it away before bothering to answer. “My apologies, you called after me and almost killed me in the process.”
Steve winks at you. “Apology accepted.”
You stare at him, unamused and still in the middle of the damn road, and after a couple beats of silence you cock your head at the boy. “Are you going to tell me what you need or…?”
“Oh,” Steve coughs, as if startled by your question. “Honestly I didn’t really have a plan when I called after you. I just kinda did, so…”
“Right, well.” You clench your jaw in annoyance. Why are you even surprised that Harrington has wasted your time? “This was fun, let’s never do it again sometime!”
You ride off on your bike, trying to quickly get up the hill so that you can get to the Wheeler’s before it gets too dark to see. The hill is brutal and it’s almost embarrassing how long it’s taking you to get up it, and as you’re huffing and dripping in sweat, headlights come up from behind you.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you groan.
Steve’s car is now right next to you, the fucker having done a complete u-turn to follow after you. His window is still rolled down and he has one hand on the steering wheel and the other hanging out his window.
“Hello again, Henderson.”
“I never said hello back to you.”
“C’mon, at least pretend to be happy to see me.”
You let out another groan as you continue to struggle up the hill. “I physically cannot do that, sorry.”
Steve, ever the comedian, responds, “It doesn’t seem like you can physically get up this hill either.”
You don’t give him the satisfaction of laughing, but you’re a bit annoyed that his quip was funny. What a jackass, honestly.
“Henderson,” your silence doesn’t deter the boy, “just get in the damn car already.”
Once again you almost crash into the BMW, this time because of your complete shock at his request.
“What?”
He gives you a look as if you’re the insane one in this situation. “You’re sweatier than I am after basketball, and at the rate you’re going I’d say you’ll reach your destination in about three to five business days.”
You stare at him, speechless.
He stares back at you with a smirk on his smug little face, knowing that he’s won the argument. “Get in the car and I’ll throw your bike in the back.”
You do as he says, your mind completely blank and still taken aback. Sweatier than him after basketball? There’s no way that’s true, and also who says that to someone they barely even know? As if you’re really that sweaty-
You see your reflection in his car mirror and wince.
Okay, so maybe you’re a little sweaty.
Fuck Steve Harrington.
The boy in question tosses your bike in the trunk as you hesitantly get in the car. He watches as you sit yourself down and laughs. “It’s a car, Henderson. It won’t bite.”
“Yeah, but you might.” You slap a hand over your mouth, embarrassed by the implications of your words.
Steve raises an eyebrow at you as he turns the car back on. “Careful there, last I checked you’re a taken lady.”
The embarrassment you previously felt is gone, now replaced with your usual annoyance when it comes to Steve. You think about what he did yesterday to Jonathan’s camera, the cruelty in his eyes as he watched the thing shatter onto the ground. He didn’t show any remorse, and while you understand that he had been defending his girlfriend, he had taken it too far.
“How many times do I have to tell you that Jonathan and I are just friends?”
“Please,” Steve huffs with amusement, “the two of you have been inseparable for years. Besides, no way a guy like Byers can just be friends with a girl like you. Not scientifically possible.”
You wrinkle your nose. “What’s ‘a girl like you’ supposed to mean?” Then another thought occurs to you, “Also, you didn’t even know my name until this week, so don’t go acting like you know my relationship with Jonathan.”
“Relax, Henderson. It was a compliment. All I meant is that you’re decently pretty, all things considered, so I wouldn’t blame Byers if he was in love with you. It’s human nature.”
“Okay, that’s just really sexist-”
“As for knowing your name only this week, you’re wrong.”
“I’m sorry?” You ask, confused.
Steve places a hand over his chest, almost as if he’s reaching for his heart. “Apology accepted, it means a lot to me.”
“Ugh,” you scoff at him. “That wasn’t an apology and you know it. Can you just take me to the Wheeler’s, please?”
“Woah, slow down there. First I need you to tell me why you thought I didn’t know your name, then I’ll take you to my girlfriend’s house. Free of charge.”
If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that you see some offense in Steve’s eyes for thinking he only recently learned your name, but why would he care? Besides, you know he’s never paid any attention to you before this week.
“It was literally this week that I had to tell you my name after you almost hit me with your car, Harrington.”
“Okay, hey,” the boy holds a finger up. “Actually, you almost hit me with your bike because you were too busy hysterically sobbing.”
He’s right, but you won’t tell him that. Minor details, honestly. You’re about to tell him as much before you realize what he’s said. “Wait, you knew I had been crying?”
Steve gives you a well, duh look. “Yeah, that’s why I pretended not to know your name. Figured you wouldn’t want to talk about it and the least I could do was make you laugh. And viola, I did.”
He had willingly tried to make you laugh?
His words make you flush, which seems to only amuse him further as he chuckles at you. You wave your hand at him, now more annoyed than ever. “Okay, fine. Whatever, so you knew my name before this week, big whoop. Can you just drive now?”
“I’ll take that as an ‘I’m sorry Steve for assuming you’re an asshole who hadn’t noticed a girl you’ve known since you were thirteen’, then.” Steve takes the car out of park and begins to drive to the Wheeler’s which you’re relieved by.
You feel uncomfortably warm after that conversation, regardless of the fact that you’re still overheated from your biking. There’s no way that Steve has seriously known about you since you were twelve and he was thirteen. No, you decide that he must be lying, playing up his usual boyish charm. He’s been this untouchable entity ever since you moved to Hawkins, so why would he have paid any attention to you?
Then your mind floats to his compliment, calling you “decently pretty”, but then again not even five minutes earlier he stated that you sweat more than he does after basketball, so really his words should mean nothing.
And yet, after the week you’ve had and your fight with Jonathan and Will’s death and El’s mysterious powers…
Steve’s words make you a bit giddy, embarrassingly enough. You hate that they do, because he’s Steve Harrington and he’s with Nancy who is beautiful and kind and everything you’re not. It doesn’t matter what he thinks of you.
You pick at your nails as he drives, the car silent, and you accidentally graze against the cut on your finger from yesterday. It’s scabbed over by now, but the pain is still fresh.
“I know that what Jonathan did was wrong, I won’t excuse his actions. Standing up for Nancy was the right thing to do and I admire you for it, really,” Steve spares you a glance as he drives, nodding his head slightly to indicate that he’s listening. “But breaking Jonathan’s camera wasn’t.”
He groans. “Nancy said the same thing, but what’s the big deal? The creep shouldn’t have access to a camera if he can’t use it properly.”
The slight warmth that Steve had somehow put in your chest dissipates at his words. “Jonathan isn’t a creep, but regardless of the situation, the big deal is this: not everyone can afford a fancy BMW and Raybans. Not everyone in Hawkins lives in a giant mansion with a pool. He worked so hard to afford that camera, it’s not something that he can just buy again on a whim.”
Steve shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Henderson, you know I didn’t mean it like that-”
“I know, but it was still a shitty thing to do.”
The silence that settles in the car is a heavy one, and you almost feel bad for Steve. You know he hadn’t thought about the repercussions of his actions, but you suppose that the fact that he hadn’t considered the price of a camera was proof enough of his naivety.
When you get to the Wheeler’s, Steve gets out of the car to help you with your bike. He doesn’t let you do a thing, so you stand there and awkwardly watch. You can tell that he’s trying to make up for his actions from yesterday, which you appreciate.
“Thank you,” you say once he places the bike down.
“All in a day’s work.” Steve responds, wiping his hands off on his jeans.
As he turns to leave, you stop him. “And thank you for earlier this week, ya know, for making me laugh after falling off my bike. I, uh, appreciate it.”
He seems surprised by your sincerity, but he smiles. “Again: all in a day’s work. And listen, I’m sorry about Byers’ camera,” Then he quickly adds, as if afraid he won’t have the nerve to later, “I’m sorry about Will, too. I figure you were close with him and now he’s…”
His words trail off, not wanting to say the word “dead”, which you can’t blame him for.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a bad person.” Steve turns to face you now, your words catching his undivided attention. “You just have the worst taste in friends, but when you aren’t around them… I guess you’re alright.”
He laughs a bit, but there’s a certain emotion in his eyes that you can’t quite name; you have to stop yourself from leaning in closer to him. Suddenly the space between you feels too close and you take a step back, but as you move you feel Steve’s hand ruffle your hair. “I guess you’re ‘alright’ too, Henderson.”
You watch as he leaves, standing in the Wheeler’s driveway for longer than necessary. You place your hand on your head and find yourself smiling, the warmth of his touch still faintly there.
-
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golden hour
{sometimes i get ideas for drabbles that aren't long enough to be chapters, or oneshots. this was going to be a side chapter/drabble of morgen, but i didn't like where it was headed so i rewrote it. pls accept my garbage, i wrote this in ~45 mins}
cw: i have projected!!!!!! my abandonment issues onto levi lmao. anxiety, trauma, very slight possessiveness (but not to the point it's unhealthy) references to smut from the night prior. so mdni! finale pt. 1/manga spoilers!!!
w/c: 1201
taglist: @levmada @poisonpeche @jayteacups @happybird16 @theferricfox @sckerman @whattheheckmidoriya @notgoodforlife @anlian-aishang @unadulteratedtreecrusade @nelapanela94 (i honestly forget who's in my taglist??)
Levi Ackerman doesn't know peace. He is a man most acquainted with strife and sacrifice.
The void left in his heart after the Rumbling is gaping and steep. It pulls him into the dark, with little hope of anything good ever happening. Maybe he doesn't deserve it; maybe he isn't meant to have nice things. That's what the cynical side of him says. But then again, cynicism was all he ever had. Negativity, doubt... As a soldier, he always had to err on the side of caution.
So the idea of you laying in his arms, flush to his bare chest, is something so foreign to him. Levi can hardly believe his eyes.
Sunlight filters through the windows, casting rays and lighting up the room. Shining on you, he finally takes you -- and all your wonder -- in and he breathes easy.
He pulls you closer. Where is the next threat? When, even?
This is too good to be true.
You stir in his embrace and he relaxes, allowing you to fidget and stretch as needed. Your dewy and damp hair from last night clings to your forehead. Dirt doesn't repulse him too much anymore, he thinks. Well, not if it's you. He flicks the stray hairs dangling in your eyes away, and blows the rest away gently. Now he sees you.
He gasps when you smile in your hazy state, snuggling closer.
"Mornin'," you sigh.
"Mm." He doesn't mean for it to come across as a grunt. "Good morning. Sleep well?"
The gravelly baritone of his morning voice sends shivers down your spine. "Ohhhhh yeah."
It would be hard not to sleep well after last night, but he will stay on alert. He had his night of fun. Now it's time to get back to business. But what business does he have left? The teashop? It's closed today. Maybe cleaning the kitchen. Oh wait, you did a spring clean of it last night.
He sighs, heavily. It's hard to go from always having a task to do, to nothing at all. He can't lose his edge, it's too soon. It's barely been a few years. If he loses his edge, what happens then? What if you slip through his fingers? What if you realize that your time could be spent elsewhere, fulfilling whatever dreams you may have?
Not that he'd stop you, it's just…
I just don't have anyone else, he thinks, selfishly.
He must stay alert and aware all the time. He gave into desire last night when he could have been doing something more productive. If you continued to see how good he was, you'd continue to need him, hopefully. He needed you to rely on him, to need him, so that way, you'd always come back to him and you'd be in his life.
"You're shaking."
He's snapped out of his toxic train of thoughts. "Hmm?"
"When you tense your muscles, though it's faint, you shake, and…" you lean in closer, ear to his chest, "well, I feel it a lot more since I'm right next to you."
He sweeps his hand to cradle your head, wanting to keep you there.
"Sorry, guess I'm just…"
You peek up at him. "Just what?"
"Tch… Just forget it."
You blink owlishly. Sheesh, you only wanted to open a line of communication with him. But even after all those years, even when (an unsteady) peace between Eldia and Marley was established, he keeps his walls up. He doesn't know that it's okay to start taking down those bricks, however slow or long it may take him to.
The birds are chirping a song outside, perched on the sill. You smile softly, listening. "Do you hear them?"
"Yeah."
You try to wiggle out of his arms. "Relax, and listen to them. They're trying to talk to us, maybe." You search for his eyes.
"Yeah, they say you need a shower."
Despite his joke, his pupils are trained on the door into the hall of your shared apartment. The poor man, is all you think; a tortured soul who's not used to reprieve and doesn't know how to accept the rest he deserves. Always on the lookout.
You shimmy out entirely of his grasp and sit up. Though faint, you don't miss the bit of resistance he put up. You purse your lips in thought. Coax him out of it. That's always been your go-to method of trying to get him to open up.
A small nudge in the right direction.
"Last night was fun."
He had started to hum with the birds up until then. He peers back and he turns fully to face you. "Good, I'm glad. I feel the same."
"So feel it," you insist. "I think you don't allow yourself to enjoy the nice things in life."
He scoffs, in denial. "I'd hardly consider this a pleasant "morning after" experience."
"Not when you keep yourself so guarded and cagey, no."
Whatever scoff or smirk he tried to force fell flat. He averts his gaze, sensing a lecture. But when you move to ruffle his slowly thinning hair, his milky and grey eyes find yours. You smile sadly at the grey hairs you spot.
"I'm fine, I'm okay, Levi. You don't need to worry about me, ever. So rest. It's just us, now."
He scoffs, again, and turns his back to you. You flop down and trace the pads of your fingers over his muscles. You trace every scar and blemish; every cut and piece of skin so torn, it can hardly repair itself back to "normal."
He's always been the most human of the lot, and the most scarred (in more ways than one.) He carries the scars with him. The anguished fallen, the courageous subordinates he never got to apologize to. He carries them with him. Like how he carries his former squad, Erwin and Hange.
"Put down your swords now, Levi, the war is over. Take off the armour, too, that shit gets heavy."
He swallows thickly. "What about you? What if you're ever in danger? With my body like this, I ca–"
"Leave the sword at your feet, then. Pick it up when you need to," you soothe. You lean down to kiss him. When his shoulders creak, you giggle. "See, you're getting old! We should resting now."
I just can't be alone. Not after everything that's happened, he thinks.
"'We'," he parrots. "What about when you get bored living with a cripple?"
What will I do when you leave me?
"Well, no one else can make Sunday morning pancakes like you!"
He smiles for the first time now, his lips curling with bliss. He has to internally fight the urge to tense. "Don't make it out that pancakes are an achievement… Then again, I have never seen someone so god-awful at flipping."
He rolls onto his back now. You lower a hand to his scarred, pallid cheek. You smooth a thumb under his milky eye. As gently as you can manage, you sink back into his arms.
"So as long as you'll have me, I won't be leaving any time soon."
You don't miss the thick swallow and the trembling lips.
"I'm staying right here, 'Vi."
¯\_(ツ)_/¯ rbs and comments always appreciated!! ♡
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Library
Summary: You were one of the only ones to remain in The Dreaming when your lord vanished. One day when you ran to tell your librarian a discovery you’d made, you didn’t expect a certain someone to be standing with her.
Warnings: uhh.. none? I think? Unless you count bad writing bc I haven’t wrote in ages <3
A/N: Enjoy whatever this is, it popped into my head a while back. Also my first piece for Sandman but I currently have like 3 other ideas being planned/written so stay tuned LMAO. Sorry this is so short! You can read it as being Dreams bestie or his partner I didn’t have a specific relationship in mind!!!
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“Lucienne! Lucienne!” You yelled sprinting down the corridor as fast as you could, dodging all the glass and stone that’s crumbled of course.
The librarian turned her head towards you hoping you’d slow down, “How many times have I told you not to run about the palace, especially when-” her chiding was cut off as you slammed into her wrapping your arms around her.
“I found the library! I found it! It’s nowhere near what it used to be but it’s still here! And there’s some books, I didn’t touch them but they may still contain text!” It seemed like the grin on your face got wider as you spoke, “Damn place has hid from us for far too long!”
Lucienne shared your smile as she gently asked you to unhand her, which you did quickly apologizing. Gently tugging her arm soon after, “Come on! I have to show you, I told the room not to go disappearing on me again so hopefully it listened!”
Before you could take off again you heard someone clear their throat, making you freeze in your place. Turning your head slightly towards where the noise came from your eyes went wide.
“Leave it to you, commanding a room to not leave, before turning and immediately leaving it.” Morpheus said trying to hide his amusement.
“Am I dead? I don’t recall seeing your sister, Lucienne is this a dream, or hell? Or-“
“You are not dead, not asleep and dreaming, and no this is not hell. You’re still with me in The Dreaming dear.” She said softly.
You dropped her arm and felt tears prick your eyes, trying to fight the lump in your throat, silently praying this wasn’t a delusion.
“You’re back?”
“I’m back.”
With that you took off straight towards Morpheus colliding into him with enough force to cause him to stumble backwards a bit. Your arms wrapped around him and the tears were falling down your face by now. His arms engulfed you, pressing your body closer to his. You tried to speak but it was nothing but mumbling and hiccuping as tears flowed, but he understood everything you were trying to say.
“I never meant to leave The Dreaming, or you for that matter, for so long. I’m sorry.” He spoke softly to you, gently rubbing a hand across your back. You sniffled and wiped your eyes, trying to compose yourself the slightest bit when you separated.
“Now,” he said as he took in the state of the palace, “Where’s that elusive library at?”
Smiling as you grabbed his hand pulling him with you as you took off, laughing as Lucienne scolded you once again for trying to run down the rubble cluttered hallway. But judging by the tone in her voice, she was far from angry, she was just as delighted as you were to finally have Morpheus return home.
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Hii i love love your works they are truly inspiring! I had a few questions if you don’t mind sharing a bit :)
The way your characters „speak“ and what words they use seems so real and i always wondered how you pinpoint their „personalities“? I love you characterization of Lily especially, she always came across like a real person.
Another question i had how you think of these plots and subplots. Do you have a strategy or any inspiration?
Hi! Thank you so much!
Hmmmm. This is always a hard question for me to answer because most of the time it’s just “idk my brain just did the thing and now I have this imaginary person talking at me” lol.
But there are definitely strategies and techniques I’ve employed over the years to figure out voice and (hopefully) get it right. A big one is to give your characters a defining linguistic trait or habit. For Sirius, it’s cursing. None of the other characters curse as much as Sirius, and on the whole I try to use it somewhat sparingly with other characters so it’s more impactful when they do. Remus curses near the full moon when he’s exhausted and annoyed. James curses in serious scenarios, when he’s upset or scared or whatever. But Sirius curses fluently, happily, and with gusto haha.
For James, he’s a bit more lighthearted/frivolous in his language choices. Lots of play on words and always ending things sort of trailing off with “and all that.”
Lily I genuinely don’t have a good answer, I’m sure I did character work on her at some point but these days she just exists in my head as a fully-formed person so I have no idea how to tease that apart 🙈
Ummmm I’m drawing a blank on the others but i know they have specific tells, I’m just sleepy. 😂
Plots and subplots are I think just the result of my brain constantly playing a game of “yes and” with itself. (By which I am referring to the improv technique and not the Ariana grande song lmao.) Pretty much the entire plot of TLE was born from me having a handful of completely unrelated scenes/headcanons that had lived in my head since my teen years, then putting those random scenes in a timeline and trying to make sense of how one could lead to the other etc. And just like…allowing myself to go a little crazy and be like “ok I want a scene where Lily dresses in a Muggle mini-dress in front of James, why would this happen” and then extrapolating from there. Ok so the scene in which she’s wearing a mini-dress needs to be at least somewhat scandalous to warrant the kind of attention I want it to get from James and others? Why is it scandalous? Maybe it’s scandalous because wizards are super conservative. Ok if wizards are super conservative what does that means in terms of how they view Muggles, specifically Muggle girls? It means they’re constantly slut-shaming them. If they’re constantly slut-shaming Muggle girls, how does that show up in Lily’s plot? She gets accused of being a boyfriend stealer. Etc etc etc. So much of the plot so far has been me working backwards from ideas that won’t happen for many thousands of words yet to come 😂😂😂
I guess my biggest tip is just to make time to be very bored and let your brain roam free. Walking is great for this 😂
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Taking Chances (KSJ X F!Reader)
pairing: lawyer!Seokjin x journalist!reader
genres/aus/rating: exes to roommates to lovers, fluff, angst, pg
summary: Eight years apart and now you and Seokjin are in the same city again. When a beautiful apartment presents too good of an opportunity to pass up for both of you, you decide to take the plunge, and embark on a new relationship - this time as roommates.
warnings: talks of breakups, regret, pining, sassy bro!Namjoon, reader gets sick and Seokjin takes care of her, bed sharing (not like that!), kissing, alcohol mentions, swearing, a cute mischevious cat, angsty with a happy ending!
word count: 5.8k
a/n: This gift was created through @bangtansecretsanta and is for @jinsquishes. Surprise! I’m your Bangtan Secret Santa! Nixie, I’m so sorry for being such a snowflake (get it?) and sending this too you so late djkskskdks. I know you like roommate fics, so I put a little twist on it! It was lovely chatting with you and I hope you like it and feel all the warm fuzzies! This was inspired by a book I recently read called House Rules by Ruby Lang and the premise was too cute to pass up! Also, the dress OC wears is inspired by this one, which is currently hanging in my closet and I’m looking for a holiday party to wear it to lmao
Seokjin had finally had enough. His ears felt like they were about to bust open any second now, not that it meant anything to his abhorrent neighbours. The drilling noises continued, the young, newlywed couple completely oblivious to the fact that it was nearing 12am and now might not have been the best time to put together their new Ikea furniture.
He could maybe have forgiven them if it was their first week in the next-door apartment, the two of them lost in scramble of moving boxes and building a desk, chair, or whatever they decided they were missing. But it’d been like this for six months. Six months that had shattered his peace in the apartment that Jin had previously lived in for eight years, both with you, and by himself. In all that time, he’d never considered leaving. Until now.
It’d been a stupid decision, one made on a whim when he decided to go tour the old, weathered brownstone that had just popped up on the market in his neighbourhood. He’d been sick of the noise, and the idea of a bright, new apartment seemed like a dream, one where hopefully there weren’t any annoying neighbours. The walls were full of exposed brick, the sunlight filtered in even on a bright, snowy day, and it was big. Bigger than he needed as a single, unmarried, thirty something to be honest, but more space never hurt.
But then he heard the broker, Jimin, usher someone new in to the viewing, and just as quickly as his dream sprung up, it was shattered. Because he’d only caught the faintest glimpse of the threadbare brown coat you’d loved so much, and the tell-tale fringe of your scarf that he’d gifted you for your very first anniversary, but Jin knew it was you.
His ex-fiancée. Or was that even the right term when it’d been eight years since you broke up? When Seokjin had spent almost nearly as much time apart from you as he had with you?
He ducks into one of the bedrooms, out of Jimin’s sight, and sucks in a sharp breath, blinking and shaking his head. Who was he kidding? That coat could belong to anyone, anyone could own that scarf. Not just the former love of his life who as far as he knew, had faded into obscurity after dropping out of law school. Who probably moved halfway across the world just to avoid the sight of him. The person who he’d once shared an entire life with, and now they had nothing left in common.
Seokjin shivers as he stares outside the window, watching the snow fall down, a colourless shroud, and he grits his teeth. The journey home would not be fun.
Hearing shuffling behind him, he turns, thinking it’s Jimin coming to ask him what he thinks, but he’s met with a small gasp.
“Jin,” you whisper softly. “I knew it was you.”
And before Seokjin can react, you’re pulling him into you, tucking your head into his shoulder, and he’s breathing in your faint soapy smell, reminded of the shampoo you used to love so much. The wool of your scarf doesn’t feel as scratchy as he remembers, and he’s comforted by its familiar presence, by your familiar presence in his arms. It’s been too long.
“You moved back,” he mutters into your hair, and immediately you freeze, pulling back, eyes on the floor.
“I found a new job,” you tell him, and as much as Seokjin wants to press, he doesn’t. He doesn’t feel like he has a right to ask, to know about your life not that you’re not together anymore. So instead, he remains silent, taking you in.
You hadn’t changed much. You looked older, maybe a few more lines on your face, but your eyes were still the same. That smile was still the same, and he knew he had to be careful around it.
“How are we doing in here, oh—”
Jimin takes that moment to walk in, his eyes glinting with questions as he takes in the two of you, so close yet standing apart, and he raises an eyebrow.
“We knew each other,” Seokjin steps in, immediately wanting to diffuse the awkward tension. “She’s my ex-w–”
You look at him, eyes glassy and in shock. He’d been about to say wife. Because you had been, almost. There had only been a few months to the wedding when you’d decided to go, sending Seokjin off over a cup of coffee on a chilly autumn day in the park.
“Well, it sounds like you have a lot to think about,” Jimin chuckles before retreating, and Seokjin knows he’s not just talking about the apartment.
It’s only natural for him to chase you down after you’ve both left, following you into a nearby cafe.
Turning on your heel, you look at the sight of your ex, still as handsome as ever with his wool coat and snow in his hair, and you let out a big sigh. You weren’t going to hate him. You didn’t hate him.
“What do you want?” you blurt out, and Seokjin recoils briefly, in shock at your question before straightening.
“An espresso,” he responds, and you grin.
“You used to be more of a latte man, what happened?” you ask.
“I don’t know, I guess I just got a lot more bitter,” he grunts, and you let out another heavy sigh.
“I know you have questions Jin, and I want to answer them, I really do, but can we just sit here for a bit? And drink our coffee first?”
And so you do, the two of you sipping on the hot drinks, taking each other in for the first time in many years. You know Seokjin isn’t actually upset with you, that it was more the shock speaking for him. He’d barely raised his voice at you when you left, nodding along quietly and watching you go without a word. You made no promises to him, and he didn’t make any to you.
You tried your hardest to keep up with him back then, but law school had sucked the life out of you. While Seokjin had been everyone’s favourite, the star pupil and class president, you were just… there, right next to him. It had been your own guilt and unhappiness that had driven you away, never anything to do with him. But Seokjin was stubborn, persistent that you could stay, that things would work out on their own.
“There was no other option,” you tell him quietly, and he nods over the cup of coffee, looking out the window, and you so desperately want him to look at you instead.
“Don’t you get it?” you want to scream at him, but keep your voice level. “I had to drop out, I had to go find my own way, to travel, to figure out what really made me happy?”
“And are you?” Seokjin interrupts. “Happy, I mean?”
You pause, not knowing how to answer him.
“What about you?” you fire back. “You’ve lived in the apartment for years, even before me. What makes you want to move now?”
“I’ve stayed there for too long. It used to feel like home… now it just feels like a rut. One that I can’t get out of, no matter how hard I try. But you wouldn’t understand, would you? You never wanted to stay.”
You square your shoulders, sitting up straight. You couldn’t keep up this conversation. You hadn’t been able to have it eight years ago, and it was far too late for it now. Instead, you needed a place to live, to turn over a new leaf, and it seemed like Seokjin did too. Which brought you to why the two of you were even here together in the first place.
“I want that apartment, Seokjin. I know you want it too, I saw it in your eyes. We both need this. But I can’t afford it. Not on my own.”
“What are you asking?” Seokjin says, his eyes turning dark.
“Kim Seokjin, I’m asking you to be my roommate.”
This was insane, Seokjin thinks as he packs up the last of his kitchen supplies, surrounded by boxes. This has to be the most insane thing he’d ever done.
He’d called Namjoon over a dozen times the past week since he’d met you in the coffee shop, ranting to his brother about the odd proposal you’d given him.
“Is she still the same?” Namjoon echoed over the phone, disdain lacing his voice. He hadn’t been the biggest fan of you leaving his older brother broken hearted.
“That doesn’t matter, what matters is what I’m supposed to do about this!” Seokjin spits into the line, feeling his face grow hot.
“Easy, just say no,” Namjoon responds. “Exes are bad news, hyung. It’s not worth getting caught up with any of them, no matter how good the relationship used to be.”
Seokjin pauses for a second. Namjoon had made it sound so easy. Just saying no. But what complicated things was the fact that it was you he was saying no to.
Seokjin knew you left on your own accord. He knew you needed to find a sense of purpose, one that didn’t revolve around just him and law school, and getting married. But that didn’t mean it still didn’t hurt.
When he’d seen you again, he’d imagined, for a brief moment, the years that had been lost between you. The ones you could have spent living together, waking up to each other every day. Burning toast on Sunday morning, putting up Christmas trees every winter, dancing as the snow fell outside. And here you were, offering him a chance to maybe, just maybe get those lost years back. Or whatever shreds of them he could recover.
“You can’t say no, can you?” Namjoon says over the phone, defeat in his voice, and Seokjin realizes he’s been silent for too long.
“I didn’t fight for her when I should have, Namjoon-ah, I can’t miss that opportunity again.”
The words come back to him as he sits in the kitchen alone. Looking around, he realizes how few boxes he actually had. He thought most of his life had been in this apartment, but the more he thought about it, he realized he was never really attached to the things here. It was more the memories, or lack of them that he had, living here by himself, trying too hard to get over you.
He’d never brought a date home here. Namjoon refused to visit, and Seokjin had just stopped asking, fitting seamlessly into the fabric of the lives of those around him, while never pausing to think about his own.
A knock at the door breaks him out of his thoughts, and he opens it to find the movers. As he watches them lift up the things, he’s surprised by how light he feels. Maybe letting go wouldn’t be so bad after all.
“You have a big, strong, handsome ex fiancé moving in with you, and you still choose to bring up your own things why?” Nixie, your best friend, groans as she carries up another box, plopping it into your room.
You’d chosen the smaller of the two, while Seokjin got the bigger one, knowing he put more money towards the rent from his job.
“Because he’s not my anything, he’s my roommate, and we don’t owe each other anything,” you tell her.
“Not to burst your bubble ___, but most people don’t exactly end up shacking up with their former fiancé and expect to be just roommates.”
“Well we are,” you brush her off, and she turns to start unloading stuff into the closet. “We have completely different lifestyles. He works at an office, I work from cafes and libraries or at home. He works during the day, I’m most productive at night. We’ll barely run into each other.”
And you hadn’t, so far. Seokjin had moved in quietly when you weren’t there, his stuff magically appearing in the living room one day. You hadn’t seen him around since, but you figured he was probably living with his brother until your contract officially started.
The two of you had decided to give it six weeks, right until the New Year. Six weeks of living together, seeing if you could tolerate each other. If it didn’t work out, Seokjin had graciously agreed to move out, and help you find a new roommate.
It sounded so foolproof when you thought of it in your head.
“Okay, I trust that you know what you’re doing,” Nixie says. “After all, we’re not the same as we were eight years ago.”
The two of you chat for a little longer before she has to leave to her own place, and you’re left on your own. A few hours pass, and you’re finally done unpacking most of your room when you hear the jangling of keys, and the door creak open.
The sound of boots echoes in the hallway, and you know it’s Seokjin. You hide underneath the covers on your mattress, not wanting him to know you’re awake.
He shuffles around in the kitchen for a little bit, and then it falls silent. Thinking the coast is clear, you tiptoe outside your room, searching for a drink of water, when you see him slumped on the living room floor, his head in his hands.
Your face softens at his serious figure, and you walk over to him, plopping down next to him. He shifts slightly, his eyes widening in surprise at your presence, and you look down to see that you’d never changed out of your bunny printed pyjama shorts.
Clearing your throat, you speak softly, afraid to put him even more on edge.
“I realize that this was maybe unfair of me to ask you for, but you were the only person I could think of that wouldn’t try to accidentally hit on me and then poach the lease right out of my hands.”
Seokjin chuckles at that, turning to look at you.
“You don’t have to worry about me hitting on you, I’m too old for that.”
“We’re the same age.”
“Is this really a good idea, ___? Us?” He asks softly.
You freeze. There was no “us” between the two of you. There hadn’t been for a long time. But maybe there could be. A new version of normal, one where you and Seokjin lived happily together yet apart, content with your lives.
“I don’t know,” you tell him. “All I know is that being here, in this space, I feel happy for the first time in a long time. Like my life is finally falling into place. And I don’t want that feeling to stop, even after the six weeks are over.”
Seokjin freezes next to you, and he knows you’re not talking about him, but he imagines you could be.
“It’s going to take some time for me to adjust to this,” he says.
“Me too. We’ll try our best. That’s all we can do, right?”
I tried my best, the words ring in Seokjin’s ears. The same ones you told him when you said you were leaving.
“Right.”
As December settles in, Seokjin thinks he could get used to the idea of living here. The home is so inviting, the crown bricks covered in snow making him think of Santa’s house in all those Christmas movies he’d watched as a kid. Every evening when he’d get inside after work, he would smell coffee, knowing you’d probably just left to the library to continue your work.
It was quiet, and he was content. Until you stopped him one day in the kitchen, up before he was, shoving a plate full of cheese and crackers towards him.
“I want to get a cat.”
“You don’t have to ask me to get a cat,” he grumbled. “We’re adults.”
“I know, but you’re my roommate and it’s common courtesy. I saw one I’d like to adopt near the end of this week. He’s older, and they said he was super quiet. I’ll keep the litter box in my room.”
And that was how Seokjin also became roommates with Cheese. As much as he tried to ignore the little rascal, Cheese would always curl up next to him at the most random times, purring when Seokjin gave him scratches on the head.
He adjusted to you and Cheese better than he thought. The two of you were friendly, pausing to chat briefly at random points when you’d bump into each other during the day, oftentimes when one of you was leaving and the other was returning.
Seokjin even shared his wine collection with you, telling you that you could help yourself to any of the expensive bottles. Maybe it was the giving holiday spirit. Maybe it was just you making him soft.
You’d started waking up earlier, leaving him a little pile of cut up fruit on the counter every morning, the oranges peeled just the way he liked them, which only you’d ever been able to do.
But it never went beyond that. Seokjin still didn’t know who you were, what you did. And you kept your distance. Sometimes when he’d see you coming back from a trip outside, he resisted the urge to smooth down your frazzled hair after you’d taken your hat and scarf off, but he stopped himself. He also stopped himself from staring for too long when you’d wear those forsaken bunny printed pyjama shorts, trying not to focus on how good your butt looked.
It was a silly little crush on his roommate, he brushed it off in his mind. He’d get over it.
It was the week before Christmas, and you were in hustle mode. Your editor wanted you to get the latest piece to him in time for Christmas Day, so you’d been holed up in the library, writing away on your laptop and downing copious amounts of cofffee.
You’d managed to get through about four pages of writing before the pain in your stomach set in. Grimacing, you brace an arm around your middle, hobbling to the bathroom before the cramps take over, and you stumble, crashing to the floor.
You dial Nixie, but it’s late and she doesn’t pick up. Scrolling through your phone, you resign yourself to putting in Seokjin’s number, relieved when he picks up on the first ring even though he should be at work.
“Can you come and get me please?”
Seokjin’s face was as pale as a ghost when he found you lying on the library bathroom’s floor, passed out. You stir as reaches around you, supporting you with one arm as the two of you rise.
“I’m so sorry,” you croak out. “I didn’t know who else to call.”
“Please stop apologizing,” he says softly. “It’s not your fault.”
You don’t know if he’s talking about you getting sick or something else. His warm arms come around you as he walks the two of you to his car, placing you gently in the passenger seat and turning on the heating so you wouldn’t freeze. The entire ride, his hand remains on your thigh, the burn of his hand on the fabric of your jeans almost as prominent as the nauseating sensations you were experiencing in your stomach. He doesn’t ask, just glances over occasionally when the car stops to see your eyes flutter shut, and the rest of the ride is quiet.
You wake up enough for him to drag you up the stairs, before turning and closing yourself into the bathroom, sobbing under the heat of the shower.
Everything ached. From the cramps to your own heart, it all hurt. And the only thing that made it better was Seokjin. But you’d lost him, and now you couldn’t go back to the way things were before. You begin to question why you’d even wanted him to live with you in the first place, knowing that you’d inevitably desire his comforting touch again. He made you feel safe. He made you feel loved, and despite being happy, you hadn’t felt that way in so long.
When you slip out of the shower in fresh pyjamas, he’s there, sitting on your bed. You don’t get angry with him for letting himself into your room, instead sitting next to him on the bed. He doesn’t ask questions, just drawing your hand into his own.
“You know if you ever need anything, I’m here,” he says into the darkness.
“Can you stay with me?” you ask, pulling him into you until his chest is resting against your back, feeling the rough scratch of his crisp white dress shirt, and in seconds, you’re asleep.
You sleep better than you’ve slept the entire time you’ve been in the apartment. But it makes no difference when you wake up alone, Cheese eyeing you curiously. Seokjin was gone.
“I can’t do this,” Seokjin rubs in between his eyebrows, staring at Namjoon with bloodshot eyes over his brunch. He’d left early, before you could even wake up, his heart turning over and over in his chest at the sight of you seeming so small, so vulnerable, doubled over in pain. He knew it was probably nothing to be worried about, but when it came to you, Seokjin couldn’t help but worry.
“You still love her,” Namjoon says, and he doesn’t sound disappointed. His voice is even, flat with acceptance.
“Is it crazy of me to think that it just wasn’t the right time? That we both needed to grow up and figure out our lives? I mean, we were barely about to graduate. Of course we didn’t know what the fuck we were doing. No one does at that age.”
“But she left,” Namjoon interjects, his eyes full of concern. “She left, and maybe she did change, hyung. Maybe she’s better for it. But you, you just let her hurt you. You stayed the same, for so many years, going to work every day, making money, never letting anyone else in. And now, all of a sudden, she’s back, and you’re acting all different, being friends with her. My question is why.”
Seokjin wonders the same thing, why he’s able to be so attached to you after so many years apart.. You needed time, you needed space, you needed to feel like your own person. And Seokjin could accept all that. But he always thought he’d done something to drive you away. And then he remembers it’s because never once, in the four hour long conversation where the two of you had said goodbye, had you said it was because you didn’t love him. In fact, you’d said it three times exactly - once at the very beginning, one time in the middle, and right at the end.
He straightens up, and a warm, fizzy feeling runs through his veins. The last thing you had said was “I love you.” And now here you were, eight years later, by his side again. Was it crazy to think it was because you still loved him too?
The dress was green, with glittering sequins in the shape of stars. It was breathtaking. And now it was lying on your bed.
“Come with me to my work holiday party?” Seokjin had asked earlier in the week, and you don’t know what had possessed you to say yes. You’d softened towards him considerably ever since he’d taken care of you while you were sick, not saying anything when he slipped into your bed in the middle of the night, but not pushing him away either.
You still were afraid to talk about it. Afraid that he wouldn’t forgive you for running away, for putting yourself over the relationship. Even though you knew you weren’t selfish, the mere though of Seokjin ever seeing you as such pained you.
And now here you were, his date to a swanky holiday party. When you’d asked why, he’d laughed it off, saying last minute dates were a hot commodity, and he didn’t want to have to resort to Tinder. A pang of jealousy bubbled up in your chest at the thought of Seokjin with a younger, prettier girl on his arm, and you’d sulkily made up your mind that going with him was best. However, putting on the stunning dress and having the experience of Seokjin nearly stumbling while lacing his dress shoes made you feel a tiny bit better.
You watch the people around you swarm and flock to each other, exchanging hugs and holiday wishes, and painfully miss Seokjin’s presence next to yours, keeping your beating heart calm. As if he sensed your discomfort, he’s there in the next minute, holding out a drink for you. You accept, hoping the alcohol will calm your nerves.
You feel out of place here. This was Seokjin’s wheelhouse, Seokjin’s territory. He’d always been the people pleaser, while you preferred to hang back.
An older couple comes up to you, and Seokjin straightens up, putting his drink down and greeting the man with a handshake.
“This is my boss, Mr. Nam,” he says, faltering when he turns to introduce you. “And this is ___, she’s my, uh—, we’re, she’s my—”
“Roommate,” you interject quickly.
“Ahhhh so you’re together then?” The woman you assume is Mrs. Nam claps her hands together in delight.
“No no no!” Seokjin tries to manage the messy misunderstanding. “We live together. As in just one together. Together-ish.”
A smile slips onto your lips when you see his ears redden in frustration, and you give his hand a squeeze. Mr. and Mrs. Nam catch sight of your clasped hands and smilen again, before saying how wonderful it was to meet you and excusing themselves to get some food.
“No need to be nervous,” you tell Seokjin after they’ve left. “It’s just me.”
“Yeah, it’s just you,” Seokjin echoes, and there’s a far away look in his eyes, one you can’t place. “Should we go out to the balcony?”
He leads you along, his hand tucked into the curve of your waist, and you bump into more people, Seokjin recovering and introducing you without the roommate title. It all feels surreal, like a dream you never dared yourself to have, and you reflect on how this could have been the life you had together, if things hadn’t come apart.
When you’re outside, you begin to shiver, and Seokjin eases his coat off, and you dodge it, telling him you’re fine, the two of you dancing awkwardly around each other. After a few moments, you begrudgingly accept the coat, sinking into its warmth and breathing in Seokjin’s clean smell.
“You’ve changed a lot, ___,” he says. “You seem calmer. Happier. You really like writing, don’t you?”
You want to act shocked that he finally figured out what your mystery job was, but you knew he would. Seokjin knew you too well, and there was a point where he’d known you better than you’d know yourself.
“What about you?” you respond. “Big hotshot lawyer, finally fulfilling all those ambitions you had for yourself–”
“For us,” he cuts you off. “I had them for us.”
“And I ruined them, right? By leaving,” you voice shrinks, and you feel tears perk up at the back of your throat.
“Maybe it was good for me,” he says, looking out onto the city. “Maybe I had to learn how to be myself without you too.”
“Not everything has to be a lesson, Jin,” you tell him. “Not everything has to mean something grand and philosophical. You’re allowed to miss it. To miss us. I miss it too. Sometimes I wake up in my bed, with Cheese, and it doesn’t even feel real that you’re here with me again, right down the hall. How we’re both the same, yet different in so many ways. And it scares me because even though living with you again is like nothing I could have expected, I still love you. More than I should.”
You pause on the last words, your breath coming out in frozen puffs, and watch Seokjin’s eyes flicker with longing. He pauses, before drawing you into him, his finger tips entwining with yours.
“It’s not like it was before because it’s better,” he whispers against your lips, before he closes the distance in between you two.
Sparks explode across your skin when he kisses you, your hands swinging around his neck, and you feel like a teenager in love again, discovering how good it felt to be held for the first time. You sway from the wash of emotions that come over you, and Seokjin’s hands are there, steadying you as you break apart, rubbing his cheek against yours and pressing tiny kisses all the way from your temple to your hair.
“___, there’s something I have to tell you,” he whispers into your hair, when suddenly, your quiet moment of peace is interrupted by a loud yell. The two of you break apart, cheeks flaming with heat, and you look away, not wanting to seem suspicious after basically lying to everyone the whole evening.
“Seokjin!! Congratulations on the promotion,” one of his coworkers you’d met earlier, Hoseok, runs up to him. “Singapore won’t be ready for you after the New Year hits!”
More and more people join the swarm, clapping Seokjin on the back, and his eyes look to you in panic.
“This wasn’t how I wanted you to find out,” he mouths to you, but you barely acknowledge it, your eyes filling up with tears.
He never had any plans to stay on as your roommate. He’d wanted to leave the entire time.
You rush away from the crowd, Seokjin’s coat still wrapped around you as you cry quietly. Just when you thought that things could finally be okay, that you two could move on from the past together, it had to rear its ugly head once more, reminding you that you didn’t belong together for a reason.
A week passed, and Christmas with it. Seokjin had left quietly to spend the holiday with his own family, and your heart ached with hurt because he hadn’t spoken to you since the night of the party. Or more like you hadn’t spoken to him, holing yourself up in your room and cuddling with Cheese underneath the blankets.
Across from you, the present he’d left outside your door lay unwrapped, and you had half a mind to just throw it out the window and be done with him, once and for all.
Sighing, you open up your laptop, deciding that you should put in an application for a new roommate. You type out a general profile of what you’re looking for, before shutting the computer with a sigh and deciding you weren’t mentally ready to handle the thought of moving on yet. Maybe it’d be easier once Seokjin finally left.
Rising from your bed, you make your way to the kitchen, opening to fridge to find Cheese’s cat food. Grabbing a spoon to scoop it out, you pause when you realize the bowl is full, and that Cheese hadn’t touched anything yet. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen Cheese all day, sleeping for the better part of the day.
The door was locked, so he had to be here somewhere. You walk around everywhere, even peeking into Seokjin’s room and calling his name, but to no avail. Standing in the hallway, you feel a cold breeze and gasp. The window had been open. What if Cheese had escaped?
Panicking, you throw on your coat, tears burning in your eyes as you slip on your scarf and shoes. You’d already lost Seokjin, you couldn’t lose the one other person who was holding you together right now.
You stumble out into the night, shivering when you realiize that there’s a thick blanket of snow outside, deep enough to cover a tiny cat. You slip and slide down the steps, calling out Cheese’s name and running up and down the city streets, the snow coming down heavier.
After half an hour, you decide to give up, voice hoarse from screaming. You make up your mind to put up a missing pet flyer for Cheese immediately. Now that was a task you could focus on.
Trudging up back your street, you come to a pause outside your building, gasping in shock when you see that the front steps’ light is on, and Seokjin is sitting there, a shivering Cheese in his hands.
You immediately run up to him, grabbing Cheese and clutching him to your chest while tears run down your face.
“I found him wandering outside,” Seokjin says, reminding you that he’s still there, and you take a step back from him.
“Thanks for finding him,” you tell him. “I mean it.”
And you turn, cuddling Cheese in your arms, ready to escape to your bedroom once more, when Seokjin’s arm shoots out, grabbing onto yours and spinning you around.
“Please can we talk?” his eyes are desparate as they bore into yours.
“We have nothing to talk about,” you tell him coolly. “I’ve already made arrangements to find another roommate.”
“I rejected the promotion,” he says hastily, and you freeze. “It shouldn’t have taken me this long. I accepted it before we moved in together, and I just thought I could put it off until…”
“Until what? You broke my heart just as bad as I broke yours?” you hiss, feeling guilty at the way his face falls.
“Until I realized how much I don’t want to move out.”
He reaches out, scratching Cheese in between his ears, and the image is so domestic it makes your heart hurt.
“What if we aren’t meant to be together?” you tell him meekly. “What if there was a reason we didn’t work out the first time? What makes now any different?”
“It’s different because even after all this time, I still want to stay here,” Seokjin says, cupping your cold cheeks in his palms. “I still want to be here with you, even after all this time.”
“Are you saying this as my roomate?” you try to lighten the mood, but your heart is doing backflips in your chest.
“I’m saying this as someone who loves you, and who hopes that you believe in taking chances,” he ghosts his thumb over your cheek.
“I took a chance on you, right?” you whisper back, smiling at his gentle touch. “And look where that ended up.”
“Where did it end up?” he teases you in his low voice, and you shiver.
“With you kissing me on New Year’s Eve,” you tell him, and Seokjin pulls you towards him, his fingers running through your hair and tugging at your scarf before he’s kissing you again.
You remain like that for an infinite number of moments, savoring each other, accepting each other after so long, that you don’t hear the fireworks go off, Cheese shifting uncomfortably in your arms.
“Let’s head inside,” Seokjin presses a kiss to your cheek. “The little guy must be getting cold.”
You step aside, beckoning Seokjin in before you, and he grabs your arm with a grin.
“Lead the way, roomie.”
A/N pt. 2: I hope you enjoyed! As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜
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overview cont. i guess lmao. no one asked but its been something in the back of my mind for a while now & i got an anon tonight telling me i come off intimidating and i feel the need to just. make note of some things so that hopefully if anyone feels a certain way with how i run this blog then like. know and understand both my side as well as that my dms / disc is open for anyone to pop into -- just obv depends on the headspace at the time.
i know this is long & am sorry if it doesnt make sense but. just setting it gently out there.
but, again, my disc ( same as my url ) is open for any mutual. its open to shoot the shit. open for plotting. open for memes. what have you. i may not always get to every message. i may not be in the headspace for certain things or certain energies. but its open for anyone as long as we are mutuals & if handles are different between here & disc then i just get a heads-up abt who you are so i know lmao
likewise, i am fairly fucking slow writing-wise and alot of that is because of offsite issues chipping into me but also because most, if not all, of the things i DO have in the inbox or drafts are from my affiliates at this time ( tho i do have some more from the archive i need to move over from a couple people ). alot of my spoons and drive to write and post is because of the dynamics and plotting built between our muses. im not a blog centered on plotting but, it does help to have a better idea on how to navigate between muses c: esp for those technically outside of my kiddos' texas canon obviously. that being said, anyone is welcome to like any inbox calls i put out there. and my inbox is always open and accepting, even if i havent reblogged prompts in a while -- i have my tag linked on my pinned and its available always & for whomever. it just comes with the understanding that i may take a while to respond to them & they may not get as expansive as some of my posts can get with my affiliates; which again, is just simply from how much we've been building together that helps with that!
on that note. my connections with my texas pals are very dear to me. both ic & ooc. as i noted in my overview post, i talk about the dynamics we've built openly and freely here because theyre so integral to my portrayals. they & their kiddos have my entire heart and i unapologetically love having fun with them and going on tangents with them and bouncing thoughts off of each others posts on the dash.
my experiences in other corners of tumby rp have not been particularly kind. and its been a long time since ive felt comfortable especially ooc with writing partners. and i understand if i may come across closed off or intimidating or unapproachable. i understand if i also come across partial to them / play favorites because frankly... i am. i do. thats because they've built bonds not just between characters but also with me. ill be very transparent and say that i am very particular in who i get close with and that translates into here too. but thats also just something that easily can also happen with literally anyone. again i do understand if i come across closed off in any sense but genuinely? im not scary and i have options open for continuing to grow more connections with people c: theyre open always. what im not going to do, however, purely out of personal experience is chase after interactions. the last fandoms i wrote in i did so and it wore me down into my last hiatus. i will show equal enthusiasm to whats given. but i wont fish for it, either. its just not my cup of tea.
i like to think im fairly patient and understanding in a lot, probably moreso than i should in some cases -- sincerely though if theres issues know that im fine with it being brought up. but im also not going to be welcoming nor tolerate my boundaries being disregarded or disrespected, im already dealing with that with an offsite friend. not dealing with it here. i do not like feeling so uncomfortable existing on my own blog or in my own disc. and i get that already with my personal disc & this offsite friend in particular. im not dealing with it here too.
which on that note, i also wont be receptive with issues regarding what i post, what i talk about, who i write with, who i choose as affiliates or mains or w/e. my blog & my dash are my safe & comfort zones and these muses often help me alot with navigating when my headspace is at a fucked up level. if any of that is a concern yes youre welcome to come to me and talk it over but end of the day? my comfort & mental state is a priority to me. if thats ever an issue i truly would just recommend you do what you feel is best for you. everyone existing on this hell-plane are entitled on curating their space in whatever manner they see fit.
again. i promise im not scary. im not an ass. but i do curate my space to be in my best interest and at my age & experience across the 10+ yrs ive been rping on and off here, ive seen alot, heard alot, experienced alot. i do apologize however if i do come across unapproachable or intimidating. i do apologize if i seem closed off to only a select few. i dont mind if you follow / we're mutuals solely just to keep up with what i write! thats completely okay too and i thank those who are <3 but if i seem unapproachable i literally just gently gesture again to my disc or prompts tag etc! i welcome any to get to know myself or my muses. regardless of how much time has passed since following one another. just again, comes with the understanding that my social battery & headspace often does work against me. and thats not personal against anyone, ever.
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...*comes waltzing back through the revolving door* hhi. hi im back 🥺 I heard you were still open for drabble prompt requests so uhhhhh *slides my request across the table* here you go! 👉👈 (btw I am eating well tonight with all of these drabble fics omg thank you for writing these!!)
33. Wedding + Kazui
Hiii you're back!! :D Thank you so much, this had so many interesting possibilities ough... I ended up going with a convo with Mahiru (I hope you don't mind a second Mappi drabble lmao) as he reminisces about his past. Go vote your sad wet cat innocent today 👍
A hand darted out to grab Kazui’s wrist. Mahiru’s voice was weak.
“Can you stay? Shidou is going to be a minute. I don't want to be alone.”
Kazui was supposed to come in, drop something off, and return back to his cell quickly. He didn’t know how to comfort someone like Mahiru in general, nor did he know what to say after all that had happened. He hated the idea of seeing her like this when he was the one who hadn’t reached her in time. He really didn’t want to stay.
“I’d love to.”
He sat beside her, trying to make himself comfortable on the cool cell floor.
She retracted her hand. “Thank you.”
Before Kazui could even wonder what a young woman like her would want to talk about, she whispered, “can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if it makes you upset.”
He was already regretting his decision. “Go ahead.”
“Could you tell me about your wedding?” Kazui felt his chest tighten. “I always dreamed of mine. You know, I had the whole thing planned already. He never even knew…” She laughed, but quickly winced in pain. “Things may have… changed between you two.”
Kazui had been careful to hold details of his life closer than some of the other prisoners. None of them had a very good idea of what had brought him here -- he felt bad that Mahiru may have been under the wrong impression of his marriage.
It wouldn’t have been the first time.
She asked, “but the wedding day itself… is it just as magical as everyone says?”
Despite the dim lighting, surrounded by a mess of bandages, Mahiru’s eyes glimmered.
“Yes,” he lied.
“I knew it…”
He couldn’t fabricate exactly what she was looking for. So he told her what he’d told himself many times before. It was the truth. Technically speaking, that is.
“That morning,” he began, “you wake with your stomach in knots. You feel the anticipation in your whole body.” He kept up a smile, and she seemed to buy it. “I’m a pretty organized guy, so I thought I’d be thinking about all our plans -- the schedule, guests, food, things like that. But I wasn’t worried about any of it. The only thing in my mind, all day, was her. And the many, many years ahead of us. The time stretches on for miles in front of you.”
Mahiru let out a content sigh.
“And everyone's so happy. I’ve never had that many people excited for me and my life. It’s everywhere you look. You breathe in and you can practically taste their joy.”
“Oh, that must be wonderful.”
“Y-yeah. It sure is something. And of course, when you see the other all done up for the first time, walking towards you with a huge smile, tears in their eyes… I’ve never felt anything like it.”
“What about the vows? And the rings? Is it really so special?”
“Of course. When you put on those rings, you feel inseparable.” Kazui folded his hands together. Hopefully Mahiru couldn’t see he’d taken his off. “You feel connected to them. You know you’re going to be with this person forever.”
She let out another dreamy sound, though he was beginning to falter. He was grateful when Shidou entered, apologizing for the delay.
Kazui stood, offering one last smile. “I hope you can rest.”
“Oh, yes, especially now. Thank you. That was all so perfect.”
He turned to leave, his own words still echoing in his mind. His hand drifted into his pocket, brushing against the small silver piece.
You’re going to be with this person forever.
On that day, it had seemed like a curse. Then again, on that day, ‘til death do us part’ seemed a lifetime away.
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Writing Meme: First Line Patterns
Rules: List the first line of your last 10 (or however many you have) posted fics and see if there's a pattern!
Tagged by @ivorydice, thank you <3
I ignored the rules to make up my own lmao. Doing twelve fics I like a lot rather than the last ten, particularly because I'd like a wider time range to see how things have changed. The actual last ten would just be the first two and then all eight of the fics I did for fatherly love week in 2021 :/ Most of which were written in a very stress-filled, sleepless week right before the deadline haha. Going back to some of my earliest ffxv fics will be more interesting; curious to see how they all start because I know I usually try to make the opening line intriguing, but not always.
o1. "Chocobos! Noct, look at the sign, they have chocobos! Can we go see them?" || Ameliorate
o2. Ignis sighs as he puts his foot on the brake, resisting the strong temptation to close his eyes and bow his head against the steering wheel for a moment. || The Monsters Running Wild
o3. Ding! The noise of the first one cuts loudly through the quiet of his room, rousing him from a heavy slumber, but right now he's more asleep than awake, his eyes still closed. It's easy to ignore. || From That First Moment
o4. "Alright. Ready to not get your ass kicked today?" || Where They Should Be
o5. Noct hesitates, staring with dread at the panel of buttons before him. || Where It Matters Less
o6. The thick, metallic smell of blood is still lingering in Noct's nose when he wakes with a gasp, eyes flying open, wide and startled as he looks unseeing around him. || Everything
o7. "Hey, wanna go to the arcade today?" Prompto slings a friendly arm around Noct as he asks the question, a bright grin across his face as he waits hopefully for the answer. || Heavy is the Burden
o8. Insomnia is a mess. || Under Grey Skies
o9. Coming to this party was a mistake. || Six Ways from Sunday
1o. It starts happening the day Insomnia falls. || The Shadows Growing Tall
11. "I feel like my feet are going to fall off," Prompto whines as they all trudge back to the Regalia. || Dark Corners
12. The first time everyone thinks Prompto and Cor meet is when Prompto is sixteen. || What Lies Below
...so the only two I actually wish had better openings are monsters and heavy. which makes sense. monsters I just started writing at random because at that point it was supposed to be a one-shot and also never shared with anyone other than the bestie. so I didn't care where I started it.
heavy I, uh, stole the opening from nano/aftermath fic LOL. because nanofic was only a chapter and some change then, with a horrible idea I hated, and I thought I was never gonna come back to it so I might as well repurpose the few bits of it that were good. now I have a better idea and I'm actually writing it... but I still haven't changed the opening a whole lot. they're just gonna be similar forever. oh well.
but the rest feel like they either did a decent job at being an interesting hook or at least not being super boring or something. though I feel like I maybe had stronger hooks in my earlier fics, hmm. damn you brain fog.
oh, tagging... hhh I usually never tag people for these things because I am awkward and dunno who is okay with being tagged. so low-key no pressure ignore if you want mutual-tagging @quartzguts, @smallest-turtle, @breakfastteatime, @every-lemon, @elidelio, @thisfairytalegonebad, @tumbleloon, aaaaaand... whoever else is a writer that wants to do this.
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waiting your next fic can we get spoilers?
hi anon thanks for stopping by! i don't have many spoilers rn bc hiatus so here's my plans for the next couple months instead also yuri thighs
im actually still mulling over releasing something for April just bc the May thing is huge like not something I've ever attempted writing across my eight fics lmao, don't wanna spoil too much but basically Karina lol finally
if I do come up with something for April it will most probably be Discordant Waltz part 3, have it mostly mapped out pre-writing so just a bit more but I have started writing it before hiatus just to see where it goes. the series is very fun to write I just hope I can stick with it till the end I don't wanna abandon it :<
besides that I also have a switch-it-up idea like the cookies and seggs noona that'll be also another thing I've never written before and not particularly one of my kinks, though it will not be as big as what's planned for may. also kinda iffy on this one bc its pretty taboo? like im not exactly sure how I feel abt it as a writer so im holding off on entertaining the idea for now, just acknowledging it exists and if it'd be fun to write despite that ://
and finally there's this collab I'm working on, it won't be a regular release and it'll turn out to be pretty long so I'm not exactly sure when we can expect it but it's great to write very fun and the person I'm collabing with is cool look forward to it yay
and of course all this is underscored by the hiatus thing like I'm still very busy with life. I wanna temper yalls expectations again that one fic a month is still the schedule I'm keeping and hopefully I will still be consistent with it but idk we'll see
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Seen a couple of posts musing about the Dreamling dream sequence in Season of Mists and what way the show may choose to go with the glimpses we get of Hob’s personal life.
I love the ideas that he wakes up next to a guy (or even Destruction lmao) but honestly my favourite idea is that he wakes up alone to maintain the ambiguity but also because I’m very much hoping for another change which will have more of an affect later on.
If the show does elaborate on Hob’s story (which I honestly think it will given the fan response to Hob in season 1), then the one change that I desperately want is that Audrey, his lover in the comic at this point in time, is not his lover, but his daughter.
I have this image of modern day Hob being a single father to an adult daughter.
If Audrey is Hob’s adult daughter in 2022, then we can imagine she was concieved in the early 90s, (praying for canon to adopt the fandom headcanon that Hob spent the early 90s partying away his pain over being stood up by Dream in a swirl of hedonistic bad decisions. Lots of goth clubs, one night stands with all kinds of people, and generally bad ideas all around).
In the comics, Audrey dies in The Kindly Ones, and is the person Hob is deeply grieving when Dream seeks him out. I just think that this meeting would be so much more thematically perfect if Hob was also grieving the recent loss of a child. It would make the request to bring her back from the dead more poignant (and also perfectly call back to Roderick Burgess demanding Dream bring back his son) as well as giving Dream an outlet in another father who shares his grief. It could hopefully change the meeting enough to make it more successful in actually given Dream what he needed at that point - comfort and support from a friendly face and someone who knows almost exactly what he is going through.
It also ties in with my idea that after his years of hedonism he finally cleans up his act, stops the demolition of the White Horse, buys and refurbishes the New Inn, works on getting his degree and becoming a professor of history at a London University, all whilst raising a young daughter as a single father who still holds a flame for his best friend after all these years, because he never truly gave up hope.
It just kind of fascinates me how different 2022 Hob was from 1989 Hob. 1989 Hob comes across like he works in banking or trading. Very city boy chic. 2022 Hob looks comfortable and warm, and yeah, he totally gives off history professor vibes. I just think having a daughter in that time could have helped with that change.
Without going into too much detail, Dream and Hob’s meeting in the Kindly Ones is so sad and unsatisfactory, and I struggle to forgive Hob for being so selfish when Dream’s being there is so clearly a cry for help. I think an audience would be more sympathetic with him at this point if he was grieving the loss of a child, instead of yet another lover, especially since at this point in the story, it is a perfect companion story to the grief that Dream himself is struggling with.
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