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enchantedlov3r · 2 months

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~Wild enemies turned lovers~ A Jacaerys Velaryon love story Cowboy AU

Chapter 1

Summary: you and Jace were enemies, no one could get you guys to get along. so when you guys are forced to work together on your mother's farm for a summer, burning hatred turns into passionate love...

Pairing: cowboy!Jacaerys x cowgirl!reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: lots of sadness and angst, Jace being a tiny asshole, aemond being a good friend, daemon being the reader's fav as he should, and lots of cussing yayy! smut in future chapters, fluff at the end kind of, mentions of death, arguing, let me know if I missed anything! enjoyyyy!

A/N: heyyyy... how y'all doin'.... so look I know I have other stuff to work on but I just couldn't resist y'all know me! so this is dedicated to a lovely girl @coral021 so I hope you like it and it suits your liking, this will be a series btw!

You felt as though you and Jace were supposed to be enemies since the womb.

Jace was always so stuck up and such a know it all while you were more reserved and chose to hide in the shadows.

yes you were outgoing and loved riding your horse around the farm, but you also didn't like a lot of human interaction with others you didn't know.

you were reserved and introverted that way. you liked to tend to the farm animals and do chores, stuff normal people wouldn't exactly enjoy doing.

but when you put those headphones on, you were in a whole other world. a world that Jace always loved to mess up when he and his family came to visit.

It was currently 2:55pm when Jace and his family arrived. It was Daemon, your favorite. Aemond and Aegon, Lucerys, Joffery, and Rhaenyra.

you spotted them from the barn as you were feeding the pigs. you finished tidying up in the barn when your twin sister comes running towards you.

your sister was your best friend, she was the only one who you felt actually understood you.

"There here!" she says with a giddy smile. "yea I caught that, you seem a wee bit too excited, I wonder why." you say your southern drawl coming in strong.

"oh stop it! you know he doesn't like me back, it's just a tiny crush anyway. to be honest I think he takes a liking to you." she says as you both walk hand in hand.

she had the biggest crush on aemond. he showed signs that he didn't like her back but to be honest your sister could never truly stay hooked on one man.

when you guys were 12 she had a crush on jace but when you guys were 15 she obtained a crush on aegon.

"you know how you get around him, I just don't want him hurting your feelings, you know how mean they are, and besides your too sweet for him anyway. and I highly doubt he wants me," you say smiling at her as you rub your nose with hers.

she was the joy and happiness that you don't have. you weren't exactly depressed but you weren't exactly happy either, being the oldest by 5 minutes meant more pressure on you then her.

but she was still able to put a smile on your face as always. you havent been the best, especially since dad died. it's been rough on everyone but daisy doesn't show it as much. tyring to stay happy for everyone.

(gonna name her daisy btw you can use it if not thats ok too)

you eventually just shut everyone out except her. your older brother, your mom, your friends, even other family members.

"you think mom's gonna tell em? that dad's dead?" daisy asks you. you sigh and look at your house up ahead.

"maybe, they are like family and daemon really did like our dad so maybe?" you say honestly. you weren't sure.

your mom hasn't left the house in months. he recently died and you guys had the funeral a few months ago.

she hasn't moved from the house and you and daisy were constantly trying to coax her to help out.

so instead of getting up to help she calls the Targaryen family over to help for the entire summer.

now to anyone that sounds amazing. to you, it was a nightmare because of the sleep schedule, the trouble you'd have to endure, and the endless amounts of teasing and annoyance from Jace.

"I like your outfit btw but you might wanna change, and shower. you smell like mud and pigs." she says snickering.

you had on a white t-shirt with blue overalls and a cowgirl hat on to keep the heat from out of your eyes along with your handy dandy cowgirl boots.

"yea yea, I know. but not before i do this!" you exclaim before rubbing your hands all on her arms and rubbing your cheek on her cheek.

"ewwwwwww! gross! whyyyy mee!" Daisy yells out as she runs away from you. you quickly follow after her you catch a glimpse of the four boys staring at you guys. your older brother, aemond, aegon, and jace.

"ok ok! I surrender. I give up, come on daisy I won't do anything, promise!" you yell out at her.

she laughs and puts both her thumbs up before making her way back to you.

you both walk up the porch steps towards the front door when your met with your older brothers gaze.

"Where have you two been? Mom was looking for you both to greet the Targaryens." he says with a stern gaze.

"doing the work you should have been doing. that's where I was." you say with a bit of venom behind it.

"well I was busy. you know taking care of mom." he says. you roll your eyes and so does daisy.

"bullshit Tyler, I was taking care of mom while you were out fucking some girl." daisy announces.

"oh wow, but what the hell was all that talk about how you care for mom's mental health and how you needed to now step up and be the "man" of the house and take care of mom?" you question, restating what he said the day after the funeral.

"I meant that. I'm doing that, I'm putting in more work than you." he says with his chest puffed out.

"Yea tell her." Jace whispers.

'Oh.' you saw what was going on here, Tyler wanted to act all tough and big and bad because they were here. well, you were gonna show your brother just how pathetic he is.

you glare at the boys behind him and then look at your brother again.

"hey by the way, tell that girl, what was her name again, cat? yea did you ever tell her that you had chlamydia and might have given it to her? yea did you tell her that you got it from her sister? well, that's too bad cause I uhm already told her. she's on her way here shortly so that'll be a fun conversation." you say with a smile.

"let's go daisy," you say before walking towards the door. "Oh by the way welcome back boys," you say with an insincere smile on your face before pushing the door to your household open and walking in.

you hear the muffled conversation and you smile knowing that there questioning your brother and his sexual acts and the fact that he just let me punk him.

"that was just cruel but well deserved." daisy says with a giggle. you smile at her and laugh too.

"Hi, Rhaenyra." you greet as you see her and your mom talking at the dining table.

"Hello girls, always a pleasure to see you guys." she says with that warm smile on her face.

sometimes you wished she was your mom instead of your actual mom because Rhaenyra actually understood you, unlike your mom.

"I would hug you but i'm covered in mud and hay, lemme go clean up yea?" you say to her with a smile.

she smiles and nods with understanding and you walk up the stairs towards your room.

you grab a little white sundress with yellow flowers on it. you grab some panties and a bra as well and walk towards your bathroom for a well-deserved shower.

It was currently 7:45 when you finally left your room after your daily reading routine, you got out of the shower a while ago and your ready for dinner.

"Hey! Come downstairs loser, dinner is ready, and Daemons asking for you." daisy says bursting into your room.

"hey, one I'm not a loser and two you had me at Daemon's name," you say excitingly as you rush downstairs with her.

you see Daemon's white hair and his black cowboy hat and sneak up behind him and jump on his back.

"RAHHHH!" You yell out as he twirls you around with his hands on your legs holding you there.

"There she is! How's my special girl." he says with a smile on his face. you laugh and wrap your arms around his neck.

"I'm doing pretty good old man, how are you?" you say laughing when he drops you off him at calling him an old man.

"well I was doing good until that statement child." he says rolling his eyes playfully.

you laugh at him and shove him with your shoulder snatching his hat off his head and putting it on yours. You stand next to him listening to him talk about his time here in the last hour or so and you smile.

your deep in his conversation when Lucerys runs to you with Joffery.

"Hey guys! Omg! Luke you're getting taller dude and Joffery last time I saw you, you were like this short." you say shrinking your hand a bit.

"Hey guess what i'm 7 now! and Luke is 13!" he says proudly. you smile at them and high five the both of them.

"well ain't that something nice," you say roughing up Luke's hair. "Alright, boys why don't you go and find some seats, dinners ready."

they both nod and go find a seat. you smile and bid him a farewell while you go and find a seat next to your sister.

"Hey sissy." you say with a smile. "hey loser." she says with a smirk. you kick her foot and she laughs.

"girls. no playing at the table you know that." your mom says for the first time today.

"but dad never had a problem with it." daisy says in protest. you roll your eyes not even bothering to put up a fight with her.

"Yeah well he's dead isn't he, so whatever I say goes," she says sternly making everyone at the table go silent.

"yea well you haven't done anything around here anyway so what's the point." you whisper under your breath.

"I'm sorry, did you have something you wanted to share with the family?" she says with that aggression and attitude in her tone.

"Miranda don't," Rhaenyra warns.

"No its fine. Yea I do have something to share." you say putting your fork down losing your appetite.

"Here we go again." Tyler says rolling his eyes.

"You have not moved from your room in months. you have done nothing to help with the farm, you just sit around and sulk in the coldness of your room. Daisy has coaxed you to start eating properly, I have stepped up and cooked and helped take care of the fucking animals you and Dad raised when we were babies. and yet, whatever you say is supposed to go? yea, mom that makes total sense coming from a woman who couldn't even go buy fucking groceries for the goddamn house." you say out of anger.

"please don't do this, not again bro," Tyler says.

"No.. no Tyler you have no right to talk. your last words to dad were that you fucking hated him and wished he wasn't alive anymore. and for what? all because he wouldn't let you sneak some fucking whore in the house?" you say angrily with tears streaming down your face.

"You wanna act like the man of the house so bad but you couldn't even make the real man in the house proud. I blame you for his death, every single fucking day. I hate you Tyler, and I hate you Mom because you act like it's nothing. You don't check on your kids, you don't comfort Daisy at night when she wakes up crying and calling out for Dad. you do nothing. and whatever you say goes right?" you yell at Tyler and your mom.

your full-on crying now.

"I can't even look at you anymore," you say finally before looking away from them both and silently crying.

"sorry to ruin this wonderful dinner that Daisy cooked. and I'm sorry Rhaenyra and Daemon and everyone else for making you uncomfortable. I'm fine now." you say calmly.

"darling, it's totally fine. I can tell you needed to let that out." Rhaenyra says with a smile on her face.

"You just ruin everything don't you, no wonder Tyler never wants you around either," Jace says under his breath.

"what the fuck did you just say?!" you yell at jace.

"Man come on don't make her angry," Tyler says.

"JACAERYS VELARYON!" Rhaenyra yells making everyone silent at the table.

"you have no right... no right to say that. out of all people you should understand as you lost your father, don't you start with this family, and put them through more hell." she exclaims.

"I've lost my appetite, i'll eat it later daisy. I'm sorry." you say before running out of the house and running towards the barn.

"why couldn't you just stay quiet like you always are Mom? I made a n-nice dinner and you ruined it. You too Tyler and you Jace. you guys know better but you act fucking childish anyway!" Daisy says with tears in her eyes as she runs to her room.

"I'll go find her, Aegon you go after Daisy. don't worry, we'll fix this." Aemond says.

you're sitting on the bench by the coupe of chickens when you hear rustling behind you.

"go away Tyler! I don't want you here right no-"

"Not Tyler," Aemond announces interrupting your sentence.

you turn around and see aemond standing there with his hands in his pocket.

"come to tease me like Jace does? if so I'm not in the mood," you say sitting back down to feed the chickens.

"actually i'm here to comfort you. see I lost my dad too so I know how you feel. My dad may not have died like yours did but I lost mine and I'm at least civil enough to know that, that shit isn't something to make fun of." aemond says as he sits next to you.

"Yea, it's not," you say throwing more food for the chickens. you glance at him and he's staring right back at you.

"you know I don't hate him, not really." you say with a slight smile on your face.

"who Tyler?" he asks.

"nope, not him no I hate him with my life. I mean Jace. I never hated him. He just started hating on me from the jump so I just went along with it. But it's getting exhausting. were both adults now, were 18, why can't he just act more mature." you say looking at the stars in the sky.

"I don't know, I'm never really around my niece all that well but maybe he likes you. You know, arguing and pretending to hate someone for no reason at all is a sign that they like you but are trying to hide their feelings deep down."

"Oh shut up!" you say shoving him and laughing.

"Just saying," he says with a smile. you smile back at him remembering how fun and nice Aemond really was. when you guys were alone at least.

"by the way you gotta stop bullying Luke, he's 13, and you're 19. get it together bro," you say sternly locking eyes with him.

"yea yea I will." he says smiling at you. you smile back and stare at him.

for a moment it felt as though time had stopped. you both stare at each other before Aemond's smile fades and he leans a little closer to you.

he leans closer and closer until he's near your ear. "we should probably get back, daemons calling." he whispers.

"oh uhm-" you clear your throat. "yeah w-we should. thanks aemond, I really needed this talk." you say with a smile before hugging him.

"no problem." he says hugging you back as he rests his head on yours.

you both walk back engaged in conversation again about his love life. of course, he didn't have a girlfriend. you're gonna have to tell that to Daisy, maybe another night...not tonight.

then out of the blue, Jace pops up in your mind and you speak before your mind can tell you to shut up.

"D-does Jace have a girlfriend by any chance?" you ask keeping your head straight, not daring to look at Aemond's amused face and teasing smirk.

"no...he doesn't. why, are you interested?" he asks nudging you a bit as he chuckles with amusement.

,"No, not at all. Just curious is all." you say with a little giggle. you both make it back to the house and are greeted with Rhaenyra and Daemon's lovely faces.

they thank you that you came back and thank Aemond for bringing you back.

you smile at them and bid the three a goodbye. you try to make your way up the stairs but the sound of Jace's voice stops you.

"Hey, wait," he says walking to catch you quick enough. you turn around with an emotionless expression as you really don't want to speak to him.

"look I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that when I know your clearly hurting. I know what it's like to lose your father or someone close to you. I shouldn't have been such an asshole and I'm really sorry. If you could ever find it in your heart to forgive me, I would really appreciate it." he says with a serious face.

you saw past the serious facade though. there was something in his eyes, a look of not only a feeling of apologetics but of sincerity too, and passion and remorse.

a look that you can forgive.

"I forgive you Jace. I am really tired now so, goodnight." you smile at him and give him a light hug.

he hugs you back as his eyes widen. you've never shown him affection like this and neither has he so this... this was new.

"goodnight, i'll see you tomorrow then. my mom told me to help you with whatever chores you need help with," he says.

"oh ok, well then see ya tomorrow Jace." you say as you turn on your heel to make your way towards the stairs and go to your room.

you didn't quite know what tomorrow would hold for you but you prayed it wasn't Jace being an asshole.

if only you knew how much tomorrow was going to be hell for you...

Taglist: @raynesbandaids @liliesdiary @ribbonprincess and anyone else who wants to join.

COMMENTS, REBLOGS, AND LIKES ARE MUCH APPRECIATED!

#jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon smut #jace velaryon smut #haary collet #cowboy #cowboy au #jace as a cowboy #prince jacaerys #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #hotd jacaerys #jace targaryen #jace velaryon #enchanted's writes💓

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partycatty · 9 months

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dilf!johnny cage > to heal

how it goes when reader dates older johnny following the loss of sonya

warnings: grief, age gap, mentions of sex but no smut written

notes: i want to gnaw on dilf johnny until he is nothing but bones. it is for that reason that this post is LONG. yappasaurus rex over here.

masterlist <3

•first of all mk11 was so bad at covering the grief of a man losing the mother of his child

•then again that also implicates that johnny is really, really good at hiding his emotions, especially around the people he's meant to be stoic around. i wouldn't necessarily cry in front of a thunder god or cryomancer either. and i'd try to keep it together for my kid.

•regardless, johnny falls into a deep, DEEP depression that eats away at him. he should have been there on that mission. he should've canceled that ninja mime shooting and spent one more day with his family before it was completely wrecked. and he'll tell himself this every time he looks at cassie's empty eyes. he stays sober, for her, but god does he wish he could just feel nothing sometimes.

•johnny stays smiles and jokes, but as soon as he closes the door to his sleeping quarters, all he can do is blankly stare ahead. damn him and his acting skills. he wants people to check up on him, but it's just so... hard to express his pain.

•some time passes and he considers himself recovered, but every time he sees his daughter excel in training or lips smile in the way sonya's did... god.

•imagine his surprise when his own daughter asks him to get back into the dating scene. cassie says something along the lines of "you're a sad old fart that needs a woman to get him off of the couch."

•cassie's right, unfortunately. johnny let his stubble grow in and hair grow increasingly wild. he didn't carry himself as well as he once did, which was especially worrying to those who saw him as the confident, sharp, charismatic character.

•johnny declines to his daughter, finding the conversation kind of off-putting. but, on a late tuesday, he decides "fuck it" and sets up a bumble profile while sitting on the classic leather dad recliner in the living room. the one thing he forgot to do? set an age range.

•so he's a little taken aback when a 29 year old you is the third person he swiped to. instinctively, he thought to swipe left on you, but curiosity got the better of him. he read your profile and realized you sounded incredibly mature and had the same interests as him. covering his mouth and holding his phone with the other, he swipes... right, feeling an immediate intense guilt.

•he doubted you'd match with him, but as soon as he swipes, a big "IT'S A MATCH!" covers his phone screen and he lets out an audible gasp, tightening his grip on his face. he then gets a twinge of embarrassment for himself. was he seriously flipping his shit over his first match on a mobile dating app? yes.

•johnny spends a good long while staring at the screen, wondering if you'd even message him. after all, men couldn't message first on the app. what if she thinks he's too old? what if it was an accidental swipe? what if...

•NEW MESSAGE! "hiii :)" johnny swallows, afraid to open the message. what would he say? what should he say? does bumble have read receipts? would you notice he opened your message and stared for several minutes?

•he settles on "hello, how are you?" it's been a while since he's had to genuinely flirt with interest, so he opens cordially. johnny was a charmer for sure, but this time he was playing for keeps, not just for fun. he also, unlike his younger version he met some time ago, wants to take his time.

•you two chat back and forth, and while you acknowledge to him that he is indeed a celebrity (and how hilariously stupid it was that he was on a public dating site), you express no real concern over it. you mention to him that you want to see him as a man and not a character. the deeper conversation of dealing with the spotlight could come another time, as johnny didn't want to scare you away.

•you two text for a lot longer than most matches on bumble. johnny's honestly terrified of meeting up in person. he wants to be so incredibly sure that it's you he wants to meet up with. he forgot to keep swiping, even. he was so fixated on getting to know you. he felt weird talking to multiple women on the app, since he was so used to married life.

•he can't bring himself to ask you on a real date, so you two settle on a friendly coffee chat. he shaves, gets a trim, and for the first time in a long time, stresses about wearing the right things. he even calls cassie and asks if he should wear shirt A or shirt B, but was very keen on redacting your age from the conversation. that was something he was afraid to disclose to her.

•what was this man so afraid of?? you are a SWEETHEART. you're so incredibly mature, have more "vintage" interests and asked so many questions, leaning in to listen. johnny didn't feel the need to perform, in fact, he found himself... with butterflies. he death-gripped his coffee to hide the fact that his fingers were trembling.

•one coffee chat turns into two, and then three, four, and eventually, he feels okay enough to plan a real date. his heart was swelling with excitement, a new warmth in his chest. you were so effortlessly patient and kind with him, never asking for anything of him besides his time.

•he plans a dinner date, squeezing you two into a lavish restaurant that he wouldn't have been able to get into if he wasn't a celebrity. he didn't want to overwhelm you with his money and fame, but god did he want to do this right. even though the topic of money was something you never thought to consider with him, he still wanted to show off at least a little bit. it's just in his character!

•there, he starts to come out of his shell a bit more. he starts flirting back, and you two hold hands across the table, intense eye contact as you converse freely.

•johnny takes a sip of his drink, looking down. but when he looks back up, he notices you admiring him with your sweet young eyes. and it's here that he realizes just how much you've revitalized him. he springs out of bed with a smile. you're the last thought in his mind before he falls asleep. when he is with cassie, he can't stop thinking about how much you two would get along.

•which, by the way, johnny is so incredibly sure to remind you that he has a daughter that's your age. you pause and think, trying to articulate your thoughts on the awkward circumstance.

•"i understand that it may be a little uncomfortable for her and the last thing i want is to drive a wedge between you and your daughter. you speak highly of her and i deeply admire that. i perfectly understand that she comes before me."

•johnny stops himself from tearing up. you're... just so kind. you're perfect.

•after the ninth date, he decides that he's ready to go back to your place. it's a quaint apartment, and it's there that you both make the conscious decision to have sex.

•it's slow and sweet, he's murmuring praises into your bare skin as he takes his time exploring a new body. older johnny takes his time with sex unlike his younger days. he needs to appreciate your beauty, complimenting every feature on your body. you're so divine.

•"such a pretty girl..." he whisper-groans above you, strong hands holding your hips in place with a passionate firmness.

•over the next couple months, he's still working toward officially calling you his girlfriend. a new partner in his life scares him, even if you make all of that tension disappear when you're around. it's just a lot to ask of a man to take that new step again.

•biting the bullet, he asks you at your doorstep holding a cheesily large bouquet, having to glance over it to get a proper look at you. you smile sweetly, nodding and immediately accepting in that gentle voice. you knew how much this meant to him to make things official.

•cassie eventually gets the chance to meet you, as her father brings you along to a holiday party with the family. it's... it's a little weird, she won't lie. i mean, it's just weird in general to see your dad with someone that isn't your mom. that's something that naturally needs time to adjust to. and your age isn't something she can avoid discussing.

•she doesn't hate you. she actually finds you quite enjoyable to be around! she's just a little uneasy that you're her age. but, after a long, long talk full of tears and reassuring words, cassie realizes she can learn to accept you being with her dad. i mean, she sees what you do to him.

•that sparkle in his puppy-dog brown eyes is back, and he just can't stop being engulfed by your presence. a hand is always on the small of your back, a grin always plastered on his face, and eyes are always locked onto you when you're doing the most mundane of tasks. he's chirpier, and people even joke that he seems as active as he was in his younger years. you got the old man's rusty gears turnin'!

•he loves you. he didn't realize he could do that again.

#mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #mortal kombat #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage mk11

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andreafmn · 1 year

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Speak | Chapter 10

Word Count: 3.5K Story Description: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf. Chapter: 10/? Warnings: emotional and mental abuse A/N: can't believe I finished this on schedule! the story everyone is obsessed with for some reason just got updated😂🤍 My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts to support me and my love of writing or buy me a coffee TikTok • Instagram • Business | MASTERLIST If you’d like to be tagged in this or any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post! Taglists for Twilight get filled quick and Tumblr only lets me tag up to a certain point. Notifications are your best bet.

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Chapter 10

"Do you want to stay over tonight?" Jacob suddenly asked as the pair made their way to his truck. "It's already so late and I don't wanna make the drive back to Forks right now."

"Uh, sure, that sounds great," she said, trying to contain her excitement. A surge of happiness took over her as she witnessed Jake trying. He was trying to keep them together, at least that's what it looked like to her. "I'll just let dad know."

"Yeah, sure."

After she had settled on the center of the seat, Jacob helped his father into the truck, stepping out to say goodbye to his friends.

"I'll let you know that there won't be any funny business under my roof, (Y/N)," Billy smiled teasingly. "Though I am glad that Jacob is seemingly trying to turn over a new leaf this new year."

"I promise we'll do nothing but sleep, Billy," she chuckled. "And I also hope this is a new start for Jake and me. That everything that happened stays in the past and we can just give it our all in this relationship."

"If it is meant to be, (Y/N), the universe will find a way," he said as mystically as he always spoke. "You deserve happiness, my child."

"People keep saying that," she responded, her eyes growing far more interested in the skin of her fingers. "Does no one think that Jake can make me happy?"

"That's not what I'm saying, (Y/N)," he smiled, his hand falling on top of the one she was picking. "All I am saying is that if the love and happiness that you deserve is with Jacob, then the universe will allow it."

"And if not?"

"Then, your paths will always align."

"Then let's hope that what's written on the stars is in our favor." And as she said that she didn't know if she was wishing that to convince him or to convince herself.

The three of them rode back to the Black residence in a comfortable silence. The sounds of the woods and the whistling of the wind filled their quiet. She wondered what they said. If they whispered words of encouragement or if they taunted her downfall. She wanted to believe it was the former, because the latter would wreck her.

"Well, you two. I trust that you will behave yourselves since you're under my roof," Billy told them, eyeing the teenagers suspiciously. "And don't start getting used to these sleepovers. This is only because it's already two in the morning and we are all tired."

"Dad," Jacob grumbled. "Just go to bed already."

"Ooh, never thought I'd be shooed away in my own home," the man chuckled. "But I will leave you two. Not because you told me so, but because I am tired. Good night, kids."

"Night, dad."

"Good night, Billy."

Billy rolled away to his bedroom, turning in for the night. He left the couple standing in the living room, a heavy and tense air blowing between them. They had yet to acknowledge everything that had happened between them, much less finally putting it to rest.

"Uh, I'll get you some clothes and you can shower first if you want," Jacob mumbled as he walked into his room before coming out with a folded t-shirt and some sweatpants. "Might be a bit big on you, but it's better than nothing. There're extra towels under the sink."

"Sure," she smiled. "Thanks."

There was still remnant awkwardness between them as they tried to waltz around unspoken words. She locked herself in the bathroom, finally allowing herself to breathe. Fresh start is what she told herself. Over and over again she told herself that they were having a fresh start. As she showered and cleaned away Paul's touch and the thought of him, she had to believe it.

Jacob was who she had always wanted. The boy she had grown up with, the one she had never forgotten. Still, her mind wondered what would have happened if Paul had been the one she had met first. If he had been the boy that was in her mind for the almost sixteen years she had been alive. Maybe she would have been standing in his bathroom instead of Jake's. Maybe she would have been wearing his oversized t-shirt.

"Hey," Jacob called softly from the living room as she opened the bathroom door. "Come here."

(Y/N) walked down the hallway to where he was, a smile stretching on her face as she was met with what Jake had done while she showered.

He had pushed aside the wooden coffee table that lived between the sofas and placed in its stead plush blankets and pillows, a pair of hot chocolate mugs in front of the fireplace. His long, wet hair was plaited back, and he had changed into pajamas. And he was waiting for her.

"What's all this?" (Y/N) smiled.

"I think it's about time we put things to rest already, (Y/N)," he said, patting the pace in front of him. "I don't like fighting with you."

"I don't like it either," she sighed contentedly as she sank into the warmth of his body, his arms wrapping around her. "I like things when they're like this. When we're together and happy."

"I know, and I want it to be like this all the time. But it can't be when I hear you're running around with Paul," he reminded her. His tone was soft, but his words were as snipping as a snake's bite. "I just can't stand the guy and it's embarrassing when it happens in front of the town."

"Jake, I..."

"Don't worry, baby, that's all in the past. As long as you promise not to see him again, (Y/N). I don't want you to fall into his trap."

(Y/N) couldn't remain quiet for long. She knew it would only work to anger him. But how could she promise something she didn't want to do? Something that her gut told her was wrong. "Of course," she lied. "I promise. Paul is a thing from the past."

"That's what I like to hear," he smiled before he turned her head to kiss her. "We need to focus more on us. Focus on our relationship."

"I would love that," she beamed. "I want this to work, Jake. I want us to work."

"Then let's," he smirked.

Jake attached his mouth to her neck, nipping at a spot that took her breath away. His hand held her head back, gripping her jaw. He took in her scent, the warmth of her skin, the sounds from her mouth. All as he imagined...

"Stop, Jake," she said, her voice treading between a moan and a chuckle. "Your dad is literally down the hall."

"He's a heavy sleeper," he chuckled against her skin. "He'll never know."

"No, Jake." She separated from him; a playful grin splayed on her mouth as she turned to face him. "Not here. Not now."

"Ugh, fine," he groaned, falling on his back. "Then, I guess we'll just sleep."

"Yes," she mused, crawling over his body and planting a soft kiss on his lips. "But together."

Jacob wrapped his arms around her and chuckled, positioning both of them comfortably on a blanket and draping another over them. Her body curled into his, his arms wrapped around her waist as he spooned her.

"We'll have to talk about taking things to the next level," he said against her ear, his breath tickling her skin. "I think it might cement everything between us."

"And I think you need to take a breather, Jacob," she chuckled. "We just got to a good place. Let's take things as they go."

"Ugh, fine," he muttered jokingly. "Then, let's just go to sleep."

"Alright, Jake. Good night."

"Night, (Y/N)."

If every night after was like this one, maybe it was the universe's way of telling her that Jake was the one. Laying there, wrapped in his arms, she could let herself believe that the tides were changing. That at the end of the day, Jacob would choose her. Maybe, just maybe.

***

"I can't believe she went home with him," Paul groaned, punching a nearby tree. The way the bark splintered helped ease his anger for a second, but the burning pain inside his chest remained. "I don't know what else I can do to make her understand what a shitty guy he is."

"You know there is," Jared teased. "You could always tell her how you feel and why."

Paul's stoic stare was clear even in the darkness of the night. He knew Jared was right. The more he pursued her without telling her the reason why, the harder it would be to explain his behavior. "You know I can't, dude," he grumbled. "I don't wanna put her in the middle of all of this bull."

"It's not that bad, man," the boy offered. "Look at me and Kim. She knows and nothing has happened to her."

"Yeah, she also liked you before you were a shapeshifting freak," he joked. "And look at Emily. She's forever scarred because didn't have a grasp on what was happening."

"Come on, you know that was an exception, Paul. What happened to her was a very unfortunate accident. But an accident, nonetheless. There's really no reason for you to be running from (Y/N)."

"Look how much shit happened to Bella in so little time, Jared. And it all started when she found out the truth about the Cullens," Paul said. "I don't know what I would do if I made (Y/N) go through any of that because of what I am."

"So you're gonna continue brooding and make our lives miserable? Just tell her, man. Maybe she'll fall in love with you and turn that frown upside down."

Paul picked up a stick and threw it at Jared's head, laughing as the other boy tried to duck but failed to; the piece of wood bouncing off his forehead. "You'll have to put up with me for a lot longer then," he laughed, swallowing the sadness that threatened to overtake him. "I just don't think I have it in me to do that to her. She deserves to be safe and happy."

"Even if it's with Jacob?"

"Unfortunately, that decision is hers to make," he sighed. "I just wish she didn't have to get hurt in the process."

Jared remained quiet for a second. He stared as his pack brother paced before him, his mind too quiet aside for the sporadic image of (Y/N). But even if he didn't say it, he could feel Paul's sadness. He could feel the tug in his chest that called him to go to her. He had felt it too. Every time Kim had to go to a family dinner or visit family out of state, he felt like someone had taken his heart off his chest and sent it away.

But (Y/N) was so close. All he had to do was have one tough conversation and he could soften the grasp of the claws that covered his heart. "What are you so afraid of, Paul?" Jared finally said. "I know you say you don't want to hurt her and all that, but there's something else. Isn't there?"

Paul stared at his friend, wondering if he was that transparent. "I've never been a, uh, a relationship guy. Haven't had the best role models," he confessed. "I guess I think that if I let myself get close to her, I won't be able to handle when she inevitably goes. Because at the end of the day, everyone leaves."

"Not everyone, Paul. We're still here."

"Because you have to be," he shrugged. "If you had the chance to go, you would take it. And don't try denying it."

"Come on, man. You're my friend. More than that, you're my brother," Jared reassured. "But, sure, if I had the chance to leave the rez one day, I would take it. But that doesn't mean I would leave my friends behind. Much less, family."

"Jared, we wouldn't have even spoken to each other had it not been because of the shift. I'm not that delusional to think otherwise."

"Regardless of how or why it happened, life brought us together, Paul. And whether you like it or not, you're my brother now," the boy smiled, draping his arm over Paul's shoulders. "Now, you need to let that girl prove that she would stick by you as well. And it starts by having that difficult conversation you're so scared to have. She's desperate for a reason, dude. All you have to do is tell her."

"She's going to think I'm crazy, J. That I'm making up stories to get her away from Jake," Paul whined. "Why would she believe that there are shapeshifting wolves roaming around the reservation protecting humans from threats? And what if she goes to her sister with the story? Then Bella will know about vampires and shapeshifters, and it'll just add more shit on top of the mess we're dealing with."

"How about you stop overthinking yourself into the ground and finally grow some balls?" Jared teased. "Don't think of what might happen and live in the moment. I know last year's Paul would've had the courage to ask her out. Jacob or no Jacob."

"I technically already asked her out once, and it ended up with me, by myself, in the diner," he reminded his friend, red flooding his cheeks as he recalled the embarrassing moment. "This is not just about inviting the prettiest girl in school to the prom. This is about telling someone that everything they had believed is not real. It's telling her that it doesn't matter what she might have wanted, that something out in the universe decided that we are bonded for life. It's telling a girl like her that she's stuck with a guy like me."

"Man, I can't keep trying to convince you that you are a good guy," Jared sighed. "I'm not saying you're the gods' gift to mankind. Certainly not the you from a year ago. But you're not that guy anymore. You're not even the same guy from six months ago. So, it's time to pick yourself up and do what you have to do. Stop moping about this and do something."

***

(Y/N) woke up with warm arms wrapped around her and a pang in her chest she didn't understand. She was supposed to feel happy. She was supposed to wake up that New Year's Day with an overwhelming amount of joy and the sense that things were finally on the right path. Instead, there was an aching void in her heart that was trying to eat at her insides.

It was the same void that had started festering since that fateful night at the bonfire. The one that seemed to calm whenever the fluke was around. The one that called out his name and she had let go on deaf ears.

That pang filled her with guilt. As she lay in Jacob's arms, she felt guilty that her head was thinking of another guy. And it was a guy she barely knew. A boy that she had no business thinking about, much less dreaming about.

But she couldn't help it. She couldn't forget the softness of his hands against her skin, the brightness of his smile as he looked at her, the glimmer in his eyes when he listened to her. She couldn't get him out of her head.

And as if by divine intervention, the very constant thought appeared in Jacob's window. He knocked softly, motioning for her to go outside. (Y/N) couldn't believe he was there, much less that Jacob had yet to wake up. But what was harder to fathom was the fact that she was tiptoeing to the front door dragging a blanket with her.

"What are you doing here, Paul?" (Y/N) said as she closed the door behind her, wrapping the fabric tighter around her body. "If Jacob sees you here, he'll kill you."

"I thought I was supposed to be playing nice with him," he grinned teasingly. "What if I was here to extend a truce?"

"It wouldn't have mattered because he made me promise him that I wouldn't see you again," she whispered. "So, imagine what he will do if he sees you here right now."

"And did you?"

"What? Did I what?"

"Did you promise him, (Y/N)?" Paul asked sadly. "Is this your way of telling me that you're cutting ties with me?"

"No, of course not," she quickly replied. "I mean, I did promise him. But I never intended to keep it. I would just find a way to keep you two separate."

"So, what? I'd just be your dirty little secret?" he replied, anger clear in his tone. "Yeah, no, thanks. I'd rather take my chances with other friendships."

"What did you want me to say, Paul? Did you want me to tell my jealous boyfriend that I wanted to maintain a friendship with the one guy he seems to despise more than anything?" (Y/N) spoke through gritted teeth. "Would you have wanted me to tell Jake that I wanted to spend time with a guy he was close to dragging into the middle of town and beating the living daylights out of him? Sure, that would have ended great for me."

"Why would you wanna be with a guy like that, (Y/N)? If you're that afraid of his reaction over something as small as a friendship, what do you think will happen if something bigger happens?"

"He only reacts that way with you, and I don't get why," she sighed. "And I wanna be with him because I... because... because I..."

"Why, (Y/N)? Tell me!"

"Because I love him, Paul," she cried, shame cracking her voice. "I've been waiting for this chance for the better part of my life. I've been in love with him for as long as I've known what it was. And he wants me back, Paul. He wants me. And I'm not giving up at the first sign of hardship. So, if you really want to be my friend then you're gonna have to live with that."

"What if I don't?" Paul grumbled, his voice low and hurt. He got closer to her. So close she could feel how warm his body was, even through the blanket. "What if I can't stand around and watch as he mistreats you? Someone that loves you would never treat you like that."

"Don't make this harder than it already is, Paul," she whispered, warm tears falling down her cheeks. "For some reason I want you in my life. But I won't screw up what I just started with Jacob for a friend."

"I just don't wanna see you like this," he said, wiping away the tears with the pad of his thumbs. "You deserve to be happy, but not when it has rules and regulations like this. You should be allowed to still be yourself when you're in a relationship."

"Paul..."

"Listen, (Y/N)," he sighed. "I can't tell you what to do, nor would I want to. But I can't just watch in the sidelines as he treats you like shit when you deserve someone that will worship the ground you walk on."

"What are you saying, Paul?" (Y/N) croaked. "Are you saying you won't be my friend if I stay with Jacob?"

"(Y/N), I'm saying that I won't keep quiet if he keeps mistreating you."

"He doesn't," she said, but she knew it wasn't convincing. She didn't even believe it herself. "He just... he's just passionate, I guess."

"Then can you promise me something?" Paul sighed, his eyes glossing with tears. "If he ever –and I mean ever—gets physical with you, even as much as lifts his hand at you, you will tell me. The second it happens, you call me."

"I don't think it'll come to that," she forced a smile. "He would never put his hands on me."

"Just, please, (Y/N). Promise me and don't lie to me."

"Alright," she said, looking straight into the brown of his eyes. "I promise, Paul."

"I'll make sure you're always safe," he promised. His hand had not fallen from her face, his thumb caressing over her cheekbone. "No one is going to hurt you, (Y/N)."

(Y/N) had no idea why, but she believed every word he said. So, she promised. And, unlike with Jacob, she intended to keep it.

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eddiessluttywaist · 2 years

Text

desiderium

an eddie munson series

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: eddie’s odd, forgotten childhood friend seeks him out when he needs her more than he realizes.

pairing: bsf!mechanic!bartender!eddie x eccentric!bsf!fem!reader

word count: 4,752 words

content/warnings: eventual smut so MDNI, angst, swearing, loneliness, mentions of drugs and crime, mentions of imprisonment, family issues, feeling unwanted, slight bullying, anxiety, nightmares, insomnia, depression, loss and grief, mentions of spit, super brief mention of alcohol and vomit, very brief mentions of breakups and inappropriate sexual relations (nothing reader or eddie are apart of). i think that’s it!

a/n: this is my first attempt at a slow burn series so i hope it’s good! i’m also trying a new setup with photos instead of gifs ^ i’ve seen a lot of other people do it and i think it looks really cool so! also creds to who owns and posted these photos! they’re not mine, i just made the collage!

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5

Eddie Munson had grown bitter since you last saw him. To be fair, the last time you saw him was when you were kids but still. You always knew him to be boisterous. Adventurer Eddie. Eddie with the weird ideas and cool drawings. Eddie who made you laugh until your stomach cramped and you would cry out that he was going to make you wet yourself.

You didn’t know it as a kid but even then he couldn’t catch a break from the world around him, and apparently it never stopped spiraling even when it beat him into a hollow shell covered in grease during the weekdays and alcohol—and occasionally vomit—on the weekends. He was worn down by his own worries that never seemed to cease and miserable stories of others admitting things they should’ve never said aloud. Sometimes the stories were fun or at least amusing, but mostly just depressing. This was Hawkins after all.

This wasn’t an Eddie you knew. Had someone told you that man in the garage wasn’t him, you simply would’ve nodded and kept going on your journey to find him.

But it was him, and you were positive he was meant to be back in your life. No matter how much it was hurting right now.

You didn’t know why he left at first. It was as if he ceased to exist, and sometimes—when you were all alone at night—you wondered if he had been a ghost. If he had been an imaginary friend, but surely not? He had his own home you hung out in. His own dad who let you guys eat too much junk food and stay up too late. He looked and sounded real when he would scarf down several bowls of honeycomb cereal with those slurping noises you always hated and would whine at him over. He felt real when you would play wrestle—and unfortunately very real when he won and would pin you down while slowly letting a string of saliva stretch down towards your face in an empty threat. He never really did it, but it was gross all the same, and when he’d let up you’d punch his arm as hard as you could.

One day, you asked if your parents remembered him and your father scoffed at the question while he stared at the newspaper, but at least he acknowledged you at all. Meanwhile your mother had all her focus on putting her earrings in and checking her makeup in the small mirror on a wall surrounded by family photos. Those framed pictures felt emptier than the looming threat of Eddie’s spit touching your face.

“Well his father’s a bottom feeder stuck in prison,” your dad flicked his paper to straighten it out again from where it had begun to bow backwards. “And his kid is probably no better. You’ll make other friends.”

You never understood why he was so cold about the loss of your only friend. You’ll make other friends. Yeah right. No one liked you. Everyone made fun of the way you sat idly on swings just to kick on occasion as you focused more on the book in your hands, or the way you’d squat down and give all your attention to a bug in front of you. Either a line of ants that you regarded with pure intrigue because you wondered how they always filed so neatly and did their best to stay together. Sometimes you left crumbs by them just to see if you could watch them pick them up. You’d watch snails and show them the attentiveness and respect you felt they deserved as they slowly trudged along—so determined, you thought. You’d watch butterflies and try to keep track of all the different kinds you saw. A lot of them were small and fluttery with those buttery white wings, but sometimes you saw a monarch and your eyes would grow large with excitement.

You cried when Zachary McKay would stomp on the anthills or teased you about how the French ate snails—something his dad would say was just more proof of how odd Europeans are. They were one of those arrogant “We love our Country!” households with an “I can do whatever I want—America is the land of the free” ideology and it showed in their unbridled and privileged ass of a child. You didn’t inform him that one Spring of the wasp nest that formed on the underside of the slide he frequented. Maybe it was mean, but you were content in silence over on your swing when you heard him crying out in pain one day. He developed a crush on you in high school that dramatically contrasted how he treated you in grade school—and even tried to make a move at Maddi Ecker’s 17th birthday party—but you could only think of the ants and the snails. You turned him down and he was horrible to you again.

You eventually did make some friends, other odds and ends throughout your school, but it wasn’t the same as it was with Eddie. Maybe it was childish and stubborn, but you could feel it deep in your gut that he was one of a kind. So you couldn’t let him go. All those years you ached for your friend who you considered lost. He always came up with wild stories and (when you were still relatively young) you imagined he had become a pirate and was lost at sea. Or became a gunslinger in the Wild West and didn’t draw fast enough. Maybe he went to slay dragons and wound up a burnt crisp of a human. That last one made you cringe the most, but he probably would’ve liked it the most. He loved mythical creatures the way you adored real creatures. By high school you weren’t as naive. You heard about his dad—caught with multiple charges of grand theft auto, a hit-and-run in one of said stolen cars, and dealing drugs. The hard shit. Not weed or shrooms. But the kind of stuff that really ruins lives.

You always thought Eddie had a good home. His dad didn’t hate him the way you were sure your parents hated you, and he had a nice house. It wasn’t a mansion or anything, but they really didn’t need anything beyond a one story and a sizable basement with only two of them. In hindsight, you supposed he couldn’t find a home in that childhood house anymore than you could with yours. Yours lacked love. His lacked a reliable source of income.

Over time you heard about the night with all the sirens and social workers. The night he turned into a spirit that had finally moved on—an imaginary friend that your growing mind ceased to conjure. He lived with his uncle over in Indiana, rather than your small town in Ohio. Even in your mid twenties, he flashed in your mind like a small blip on occasion and it still twisted your stomach.

You thought of asking if you should go to him whenever you remembered, but you thought you needed a sign. What if you showed up too early? And you messed up any possible grand plans? So you avoided indulging in questions about him to your tarot cards or over your pendulum map. On occasion you caved and just asked a simple question: is he safe? It was a yes every time you broke and just had to check up on him, and the answer reassured you for long enough until the next time the concern rose up to unbearable levels.

But then you started getting those dreams. Sometimes they were just memories playing from deep within the archives of your mind. Sometimes they were nightmares of yelling at someone to go away, only to realize it was Eddie far too late—and when you wanted to run after him to correct the mistake, you couldn’t move as quickly as you knew you were capable of.

It went on for about a month before you finally broke. Your eyes had snapped open, accidentally waking yourself in the middle of saying what you had been shouting to Dream Eddie out loud into your pitch black room. You glanced at the time. 11:11 PM. You felt your heart skip a beat before you shoved yourself out of bed. You had to take a moment to steady yourself against your bedpost from the sudden movement making you dizzy, but then you were flicking on the light and digging through your belongings. You didn’t even give yourself a chance to wipe away at the thin sheen of sweat over your skin from August heat mixed with a cheap fan that really didn’t make that much of a difference, and the stress from the events that had played deep in your mind while you slept.

With a shaky breath, you smoothed out your map on the floor where you were squatting, and steadily held your pendulum over the center. Does he need me? You finally asked and watched as the chain connected to a sphere of rose quartz slowly began to circle. It sped up and then began to dart in different directions before finally swinging back and forth between both of the “YES''s on the piece of cloth.

It took a little over a month to arrange your departure from your life in small town Ohio—not that small town Indiana was really all that different. You had briefly been back at your childhood house after your lease came to an end for the apartment you shared with a friend (who didn’t want to renew because she wanted to move in with her boyfriend, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her that the card spread you had laid out all pointed towards a breakup). All of this to say you didn’t have a lease or mortgage to tie you down. You certainly didn’t have a boyfriend (you haven’t had one since college), and you didn’t even like your job at the local mart so it was easy to give your two weeks. Your parents were just as sick of your presence now as when you were a child, and were willing to help you in every way possible to get you to just leave again. Had you not been so focused on your end goal, you might’ve taken a beat to really feel the hurt that always came with parents who only came to your aid when it meant keeping you at arm's length. But you couldn’t focus on it and really (for the sake of your mental health) you shouldn’t focus on it. All of your energy went towards Eddie who seemed so far, even if he was supposedly just a few hours and a state line away.

You didn’t have a place yet, which was a mistake on your part for rushing, but you could stay in a motel for the time being. The prices were pretty low anyways and the owner seemed pleasantly surprised by the sudden source of money and company. The lot belonged to her husband who had passed a few years back, so now it was only her running the place. Her daughter helped sometimes, but she had another job to focus on—only coming to help when the older woman was ill. So even though she appeared kind of grumpy at first, she really softened up to you when you wound up padding out of your room the first night and asked if she wanted to play Go Fish. You had been feeling antsy and lonely, and you were right to assume she felt lonely too.

Over the past week or so, you found a friend in that creaking, groaning motel. You did have a bit of a tendency to befriend the adults around you more often than kids your age when you were younger and it still happened now, apparently. A shrink at university pointed out once that it had to do with the lack of guardianship and guidance growing up. That you were trying to replace something that had always been missing, but you didn’t go back to him after a couple sessions. You didn’t like how patronizing he was, telling you things you already knew. And when you asked your dowsing rods if he was sleeping with any of his clients, the two pieces in your fists whipped open in a blatant “Yes!” But he wasn’t around now to make you feel low with his supercilious commentary and his notes that he always scratched down right in front of you. Your parents weren’t around to remind you of how utterly unlovable you can be. It was just you, Martha at Hawkins’ Blue Bird Inn, and hopefully a pleasant reunion on the horizon.

Today was the day to finally see Eddie, and Martha urged some confidence into you this morning before sending you on your way with the directions to the garage. No matter how many times you clarified he was just your childhood best friend, she got that sly look about her that always showed when an adult was all amused about the novice in front of them being openly or involuntarily blind to love.

So there you were. On a mild Wednesday morning in late September, standing before Thacher Tire after a lot of asking around, a lot of time flipping through Martha’s phone book, and even more odd looks. You let out a careful breath, doing your best to reassure yourself with the knowledge that the people you spoke to knew his name in the first place. He had to be here, and even if he wasn’t working today he should at least be employed here. Maybe you could be told when to come back to speak with him or where you could find him outside of work. Would they share something like that? People don’t tend to care about privacy in small towns, that’s why everyone knew (generally) where everyone else was. Maybe if you clarified that you’re an old friend, they wouldn’t treat you as a customer and tell you where he would be.

You were wringing your hands as you eyed the door in front of you. The glass looking in was worn from age and weather, clearly cleaned so people could see through it, but there seemed to be an aging to the corners where the rectangle of glass met the surrounding wood that couldn’t be scrubbed out. It felt like a portal looking into what could be, and you suddenly felt yourself getting anxious with what exactly meant could be. You had a knack for catastrophizing, and spiraled in all of the worst case scenarios until you were running back to your car and abandoning the lot.

“Trust me, it’s not as scary as it seems. Going for those intimidating opportunities is always better in the long run than letting ‘em slip away,'' Martha murmured to you before biting into the sandwich you brought her.

You bought typical fast food that you always came running back to when you were stressed, but she didn’t like the grease. You learned that over the past week when you brought up your bad habit, and her nose scrunched up at the mention of crappy burgers and overly salted fries. Instead you got her a tuna sandwich from the nearby marketplace, and she shared her big jug of iced, sweet tea with you.

“I haven’t seen him for over ten years…,” you sigh, toying with the crackling paper that was wrapped around your cheeseburger. “What if I’m the only one who clung onto our friendship? What if it’s stupid to him?”

“Mm, us women always do hold on longer,” she hummed thoughtfully and you refrained from your urge to correct her old-fashioned view of gender dynamics for the sake of staying on topic. “I still think you should go for it.”

“What if… what if it’s not what I think it’ll be? What if I’ve turned him into someone more fictional than Eddie in my mind, and when I’m faced with how he really is now I just… I dunno…wish I didn’t come here?”

“They never are what you conjure up. They’re always better up here,” she pointed a bony finger to her temple and you focused on one of the curls in her short gray hair for a second before bringing your gaze back to hers. “I still think you should go for it.”

You huff out a laugh at her repetition, smiling sadly to yourself as you look down at your hands and notice the thin sheen of grease on them. Maybe Martha’s right. Maybe this food is gross. You grab a few napkins from the brown paper bag and wipe at your fingers.

“Just think of it this way: is it worse knowing the truth or worse never knowing?”

Eddie had been having a shit day. Actually he had been having a shit week. If he let himself truly indulge in his pessimism, he’d be acknowledging that he’s altogether just had a shit life, but he was trying not to fall into that trap. It would make him the kind of depressed and bitter that made him snap at others and then feel guilty about it—which only made him feel worse about himself.

He hasn’t been sleeping well, a sudden flare up of his insomnia throwing off his circadian rhythm. He thought with how busy his schedule was that he’d knock out the second his head hit the pillow, but he only seemed to be exhausted until he finally laid down. Then was when his thoughts randomly chose to run and his heart would race with the sudden surge of anxiety-inducing thoughts. He was beginning to feel so overwhelmed by everything that his eyes burned with the beginnings of hot tears but he wiped at them carelessly with the heels of his hands before they could become too real. In his mind, they didn’t exist until they fell.

Eddie ached with exhaustion that only seemed to let up when he could actually get a shot at some rest. He ached with loss and grief. He ached with pure misery and painful seclusion and a silent trailer—besides the occasional buzz of electricity through his lamp that he turned back on when he realized he wouldn’t be sleeping anyway, or the groan of the old mobile home settling against its cinder blocks. The upcoming season made itself known through the ever growing chill that formed at night and occasionally blew through every crack and crease of the trailer, making him shiver and pull his blankets up before inevitably growing hot again and kicking them away.

He missed his friends that he rarely saw. Everyone is busy nowadays. He missed Wayne who… god, he couldn’t even think about it. He missed Chrissy who lit up his world Spring of ‘86 just for them to drift apart. People seemed to drift from him a lot. People seemed comfortable with forgetting him and giving a brief call only when they got a pang of guilt at any reminder that they were getting awfully close to leaving him behind. But who was he to drag them down? It was heart-aching enough to live the way he did sometimes, let alone when people acknowledged just how heart-aching it was. Sometimes he even missed his dad, but he always avoided thinking too hard about him before it could sink his mood to a new level that would be hard to crawl out of.

He hadn’t been able to fall asleep Wednesday night until early into Thursday morning. He settled into a deep rest around 4 AM just to be abruptly woken up by his 6:30 alarm to make sure he was at Thacher’s by 7:00.

“Fuck off…,” Eddie groaned out loud and slammed his fist down onto the alarm clock, never lifting his face from where it was planted right against his worn pillow.

He laid there for what felt like forever, but was really only a few minutes before he finally peeled himself out of his spot. Forcing himself from the comfort of his old mattress was never easy, especially when he couldn’t rely on any excuses he made up as a teenager to just flop right back into his bed. He had to get up. He had to work.

He went to make his usual toast just to see there was only the end piece left in his loaf of bread, and let out a guttural groan of frustration as he tilted his head back. He forgot to stop at the store. Grumbling a bitter so that’s how today’s gonna go under his breath, he shoved the sad excuse for a slice of bread into the toaster and then began looking through the kitchen for something else to satiate him until lunch.

He wound up eating what was left in his jar of peanut butter with a spoon after slathering the small piece of toast with jelly. He didn’t have time to clean a travel mug (which he forgot to clean last night) so he took a regular one with him on his commute, and wound up dumping his coffee all over himself mid-sip when he had to stop short for a kid suddenly biking across the road. The young teen laughed at the close call and made his way to the other side of the street. Eddie glanced down at his drenched t-shirt and coveralls, releasing his third irritated groan of the morning while he rolled his eyes up to the ceiling of his van before focusing back on the road and moving his foot to the gas. He focused on taking deep breaths as he gripped the steering wheel and made his way to the shop.

Thankfully, Linda had already started a pot of coffee in the break room which he happily drank and patted at his wet clothing with one of the blue shop towels. Staining was inevitable and it really didn’t matter with the coveralls anyways, but that didn’t mean he had to be damp. Taking that moment at the start of his shift helped with his mood, but the amount of customers bitching over the phone about how long it was taking to get their cars back were steadily draining him back into a surly mood. The most he had to look forward to and keep himself from unnecessarily snapping at someone was the fact that it was almost the weekend—and yes he would still have to work nights at The Hideout, but at least he didn’t have to get up early.

Never knowing was decidedly worse.

You had concluded this after ruminating on it all night—with and then without Martha’s help. And despite all of your anxieties that were just barely buried under the surface, you made yourself go to the garage again.

An obnoxious, tinny bell sounded and a dull voice said from behind a counter: Welcome to Thacher Tire. What can we do for you?

You approached carefully as if you moved too quickly, the depressing gray and beige setting around you—which held far more meaning for you than just fixing cars—would suddenly melt away and you’d wake up.

“Do you know where I could find Eddie Munson?” you asked in a soft voice, and the woman obnoxiously chomping at her gum looked up at you over the top of her glasses before looking back down at the paperwork in front of her.

“He’s in the garage. Is he working on your car?”

Your heart jumped and although you hated to lie, you did.

“Yes,” you said probably too quickly, but it seemed nothing could get this woman to care.

“Wait over there, please,” she spoke in a voice that was just as greige as her place of work.

You thanked her meekly and shuffled over to one of the worn, faux leather and hard plastic seats. The room smelled of cheap pine air fresheners and the potent combination of oil, and that specific rubber scent of brand new tires. The space with the front desk and the waiting area was small enough to be cramped if it was a busy day, but since you were the only visitor at the moment you didn’t have to be confronted by the full potential of such limited space. You toyed with your hands and tried to pay attention to the fuzzy television in one corner of the room, but you couldn’t help listening in on the receptionist’s call.

“…’s a girl here to talk to ya… uh-huh… yeah I know… uh, no I don’t think so. I doubt it. Her voice is different from the one that keeps calling about the Ford. Might be though... ‘Kay.”

You anxiously wiped your sweaty palms over your jeans as you heard the clunk of hard plastic settling back into its cradle. What if he didn’t remember you? What if he did, but didn’t care? What if he thought you were weird for showing up? What if he grew up to be someone who stomps on anthills?

Your head shot up at the sound of a door opening and then closing from the back, and a man in filthy coveralls approached the woman behind the desk. He had messy, curly bangs settled on his forehead and the rest of his long hair was in a low ponytail. He was sweaty and clearly exhausted as he wiped at his forehead and left a swipe of grease in his wake, speaking quietly to the receptionist before making his way over to you. The closer he got, the better you could smell the grease and sweat and bitter coffee, but it didn’t deter you. What truly threw you were the circles under his eyes and the sort of pale cast to his skin that people got when they were fatigued or ill. You weren’t sure why a part of you expected to see an eleven year old kid approach you with a god awful buzz cut and big brown eyes, even after fourteen years.

This was it. This was your moment. The time to reclaim your best friend, and have the greatest person you had ever met back into your life. Why was your throat suddenly so dry? You swallowed anxiously and then parted your lips to speak and-

“Miss, I know you’re waiting on your car to be fixed before the weekend—I promise I’m working as quickly as I can.”

You tried not to cringe at the use of “miss” and looked up at him with wide, sad eyes wondering why he didn’t see an almost ten year old girl with a messy braid in her hair that she did by herself, complaining at him to chew with his mouth closed.

“I lied,” You said bluntly and the man stared at you in a way that felt blank and still despite his wonderment.

“I-I don’t have a car here. I just wanted to talk to you.”

He eyed you curiously, his hands slowly wiping onto an old rag. It looked like it had been used so many times, you doubted it was even picking up any filth on his hands but just moving it around instead. He was clearly thrown off by the sentiment which brought a sort of youthfulness to his face in that moment of curiosity before his features hardened.

“Listen. I’m sure whatever prank you have conjured up is hilarious, but I’m tired and trying to do my job.”

“No-- no, no,” you tried to clarify, shooting up from your seat. “I—I-”

But he was already swiftly stomping away from you towards the back, muttering to the receptionist with a quick and surely rude comment about you on his way. You were moments from being politely asked to leave, you’re sure, but the woman hesitated with a gentle expression when she saw you approach her with glossy eyes.

“Could you please just give him this?” you asked in a soft voice that you did your best to keep even, but of course it wobbled just enough to be humiliating. You could feel the heat in your face and (even worse) the moisture in your eyes so you did your best to avoid eye contact.

You outstretched your arm and she met you halfway with a nod, allowing you to drop the old friendship bracelet into her palm.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things x reader #mechanic!eddie #bartender!eddie #bartender!eddie munson #angst #slow burn #slow burn eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #bsf!eddie munson #eddie munson angst #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson series

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pricelessemotion · 3 months

Text

Labyrinth | Javy "Coyote" Machado

pairing: Javy "Coyote" Machado x fem!reader (prev Jake "Hangman" Seresin x fem!reader)

summary: [4k] Jake may be gone, but Javy isn't. The two of you navigate your lives and your grief. Together.

warnings: jake is dead, RIP jake, grief and mourning, emotional hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, sickfic moment, friends to roommates to ...?

a/n: coming out of my writer cave to post a tgm fic that nobody asked for. idk why I became obsessed with the idea of jake's widow!reader falling in love w javy but here we are! enjoy and lmk what you think <3

read on ao3 | navigation

Lieutenant Commander Jacob Michael Seresin died on a Tuesday morning. At least that’s what they tell you, you don’t remember much of the days and weeks surrounding his death.

You flip the funeral card in your hand, over and over and over again. No expense was spared. It’s textured cardstock with fancy but easily legible cursive font. It reminds you of your wedding invitations. The back is a picture of him in his dress whites, face unsmiling. The same dress whites he’s going to be buried in.

Lieutenant Commander Jacob Michael Seresin was called home

Funeral to take place at Graham's Memorial Home

Reception to follow

Called home. It’s such an interesting phrase. It suggests that he’s meant to be wherever he is now. That the house that you bought together, the plans that you made were all just a waiting room until Saint Peter called his name.

You never considered yourself particularly religious. Jake, being born and raised in Texas, was a god-fearing Christian man. He believed in heaven and an afterlife. You’ve always been on the fence.

The day of the funeral, there isn’t a cloud in the sky. You want to scream and laugh at the same time but the only sound that escapes your mouth is a strangled gasp that has Javy taking you into his arms. It had rained on your wedding day. Poured would be a more accurate description. The officiant said he had never seen that big of a meteorological turnaround in all of his forty years of weddings. Due to California existing in a near-constant state of drought, there simply wasn’t the infrastructure in place to support the torrential downpour. Most of your guests had been left stranded in other states, their flights being put on a constant loop of rescheduling and then cancellation.

You thought it was a sign. An omen. Now you wonder if maybe it was.

Jake had simply shaken his head and laughed. He was never one for superstitions. It’s what made him a good pilot. He relied on skill and instinct. He said that there was no way in hell that a little water was going to get in the way of him marrying the love of his life.

His mother lightly smacked him on the bicep for using such language in a house of god, before subsequently melting and muttering how she must’ve done something right.

You think that this unnatural weather must’ve been his doing. It had been overcast and depressing all week. Or at least, as far as you could tell from your brief moments of lucidity before descending back into a fugue state. You know that he always hated the days that were few and far between when the weather would be too bad for him to properly run drills or train new recruits.

You loved the man more than anything. He always reminded you of the sky, the way he took you to heights that you had never even imagined before. Still, despite the thrill and the rush of adrenaline, all you could think about was the fear of falling.

Husbands and children have been left back in Texas. Jake’s mom and sisters have taken over the house. There’s not a dish left unwashed nor a basket of laundry left unfolded. You've eaten more casserole in the last week than you have before in your entire life. The fridge is filled to the brim with tin foiled pans that people will probably want back but won't bother asking for if they don't. Despite the array of choices, they all taste the same. Ashen and tasteless is the I’m-sorry-your-husband-died special.

The house is more lively than it usually is, with four Seresin women milling around. You see him in them. In the quirk of their mouths, the tilt of their heads when they’re thinking about something, the hard line of their jaws when they hold back their tears. You can barely look his mother in the eyes because they’re his.

They try to take you everywhere with them. Trips to the grocery store and walks around the neighborhood are treated as milestones when you spend most days unable to get out of bed.

On one of the drives, you can’t remember which one or even where you were heading to they all seem to blur together in the end, you passed by a car wash. Jake would usually handle all the car stuff himself, but he told you to go here when he was on deployment because it was the only place that didn’t upcharge for ridiculous shit. They have one of those inflatable tube men outside. Waiting at the intersection for the light to turn green, you’re stuck looking at him.

When they do finally leave, it's with little fanfare. They remind you of the food in the fridge and the local bereavement group they found. Kisses on cheeks are exchanged and you stand like one of those inflatable tube men at the end of the driveway, mechanically waving goodbye.

Once the cars are gone from view, it’s like someone’s turned off the fan that’s kept you upright. You crumple to the ground.

–

Javy tries his best to decode the text that you sent him while his phone had been in his gym locker. The series of texts seems to get more and more incoherent as time went on. He was used to this by now. He had told you that you could talk to him about your grief at any time and that he would always be there for you.

Which is how Javy comes to find you here.

You’re on the ground outside. Green California grass caresses your fingertips, despite the near-constant state of drought. You know you came out here to look at the stars but closed your eyes when you could feel the Earth spinning.

You feel like the two-headed calf because there are twice as many stars as usual. The Earth spins at a rate of 1,000 miles per hour. You swear, right there in the grass, that you can feel every single mile. You’re holding on for dear life.

“Jake said that when he was a kid, he used to believe that stars were actually holes in the sky. The white light that came through was Heaven. He used to sit on the grass and look up and dig his fingers into the dirt. ‘Said he was scared that if he let go he’d float away.”

Javy only hums in response. Slowly, his left hand nudges your right one. The warmth of his palm covers you and despite yourself, despite marring and ripping apart the beautiful meticulously cared-for lawn, you let go.

When your hand rises to meet his, it’s not without a few casualties. Blades of grass are plucked from the ground making snapping sounds like muffled guitar strings. It’s the saddest sound you’ve ever heard.

–

“I’m thinking about selling the house.”

The words hang in dead air. There’s a slight pause in Javy’s movements. From behind, you can see the muscles beneath his flannel tighten up before they relax again. He resumes stirring his coffee, the spoon hitting the sides of the ceramic mug with muted ting ting ting sounds.

The mug itself is UT Austin merch from many moons ago. It’s Jake’s favorite. Or at least, it was Jake’s favorite. The mug used to remind you of quiet Sunday mornings and waffles for two. Now it just reminds you that he drank from it and put it in the dishwasher, thinking that he would get another Sunday, another cup of coffee.

You’re not mad at all that Javy is using it. On the contrary, you’re glad that the mug is being used for its purpose. That it’s not being memorialized and thus, rendered functionally useless. It drove you crazy to see it sitting in the cabinet collecting dust, but you refused to be the one to drink from it. It’s good that this memory of him is momentary and not a monument.

Javy takes a long sip from his mug, cradling it in both hands as he leans into the kitchen counter behind him. “When you say thinking what do you mean?”

Javy knows you too well. He knows that if you’re telling him about it, then it’s pretty much already decided. You’ve gone about every major decision in your life this way. You research and refine results until you’re sure that the way you’ve chosen is the only way forward. It’s how you decided that being with Jake was worth the risk of losing him.

You never said that it was a foolproof system, just that it was the system you’ve always used.

“I mean that I’ve already gotten the house appraised and have been talking to a realtor. She thinks we could list it and sell it before the year is out.”

Javy blows out a breath, puffing out his full lips. He swirls his coffee cup once, twice before taking a sip and asking, “Are you sure that this is what you want?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I can’t–” Your voice thickens until it breaks, the words brittle. I can’t keep living in a haunted house.

Javy nods, taking another sip before setting the cup down on the counter and saying the last thing you expected, “Move in with me.”

–

Moving out occurs with very little fuss. The other daggers drop in and out, taping boxes and dropping them off at Goodwill per your request, but everyone seems to be keeping a respectful, yet unnecessary distance.

Before you even touched a single cardboard box, Javy went from room to room and photographed everything. From the arrangement of the magnets on the fridge to the clutter on your bedside table. He insisted that one day these would be memories to hold back on. That it wasn’t the house's fault that it was haunted. That sometimes ghosts don’t have to haunt you.

You’re beyond the point of sentimentality anymore. If you were, you’d still be catatonic on the couch, refusing to sleep in the bedroom you once shared with your husband. Everything is objective. Every dish is just a dish and not the first real set of glassware that you bought for the house after eating off of paper plates when the movers accidentally dropped the boxed marked kitchen FRAGILE off the side of the truck.

You’re glad that all of the Christmas ornaments are still boxed up in the attic. There’s one in particular that you loved. The one that you put on the tree first every single Christmas. It was the ornament Jake got you when you first got together. A silly little reindeer.

You’ve mostly gotten everything out of the kitchen now. The shelves are bare and now you will once again have to resort to paper plates and plastic forks until this move is over. You haven’t seen your new roommate–God, it’s still weird to think of him like that–in a while so you tentatively call out his name.

“Javy?” Your voice is rough from hours of speechless focus. It cracks and breaks the silence of the house like a pebble on a windshield.

He doesn’t respond. You call out again, removing your gloves and moving towards the staircase. The door to Jake’s office is left ajar. Javy volunteered to pack up the room and you let him without a fight. Jake didn’t spend too much time in his office when he was home. Honestly, you think it might’ve saddened you more to see his legal pads and his sticky notes with reminders that he’ll never get the chance to forget.

You knock, easing the door open and softly calling out Javy’s name before you stop. There he is in the middle of the floor, head to his knees, back shaking with silent sobs. You crumble immediately. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and feel his wet face causing the fabric to stick to your collarbone. You don’t care.

It occurs to you that the roles have finally been reversed. All these months, you’ve been so grateful for Javy’s steadiness. His immovability. You thought his lack of tears had been because he was processing his emotions in a way that was different than yours. You thought maybe he was better at compartmentalization than you were. And maybe that was true.

You look around the room, hoping to find the catalyst for what caused this breakdown. Maybe there was a picture from the good old days, or an old card that Jake always meant to give him but never remembered to. But looking around, you come up empty. That’s when you realize that it’s not one single thing that set Javy off. It’s everything. It’s the dust on the keyboard. It’s the stale air. It’s the way the calendar on the wall has an X drawn through every day and then stopped in the middle of June. It’s the World War II book that has a bookmark placed so close to the end, you wonder if Jake was leaving the epilogue until after he came home from work.

It’s been hours since Javy made his way up here. The two boxes he brought with him sit flat behind the door. They haven’t even been folded out.

So you just sit there with him, rocking slightly back and forth. This continues until he leans back and spreads himself out on the carpet, not unlike the way you did all those months ago in the backyard. You burrow into his side, your ear pressed to his heart, paying attention to the furious tempo. You lay there until the hiccups in his breathing cease and the rise and fall of his chest is as rhythmic as waves crashing on the San Diego shore.

–

“You can lay down, y’know? This is your couch after all.” The gray L-shaped sectional is more than big enough for both you and Javy, who has been trying and failing to stay upright for the past twenty minutes.

“First of all, this is our couch. Second of all, I will lay down thank you for offering.”

He starts out perpendicular to you. His large frame takes up most of the sofa cushions. Though it can’t be comfortable for an extended time, he stays propped up on his elbow, making jokes about whatever's on TV. His exhaustion starts to take over and his elbow slips, one, two, three times. He always catches himself before his head drops too far, agile and responsive even when fighting sleep.

You know you can’t outright offer it to him, so you go for the next best thing. Leaning back, you shift your position until your blanketed thigh is touching his bicep. From there, it’s only a matter of time until Javy gives in to the sands of time and his head falls into your lap.

You’ve missed this, you realize. There are a lot of things that you miss about Jake, specifically. But this, the simple act of being close to someone. The simple choice to be there for someone else to lean on. Joy and guilt are like lightning and thunder. When one comes the other will soon follow.

You think about this from the outside looking in. Javy coming home, kissing your cheek, telling you about his day. Him cooking dinner while you do laundry. You doing the dishes while he does the crossword. The two of you, lying down on the couch after a long day and watching television together. The scene is exceedingly domestic in a way that makes your cheeks tingle and your chest ache.

Your left thumb instinctually goes to caress the base of your ring finger, only to come up empty. Your heart drops to your stomach. Then, you remember. You always take off your rings when doing the dishes. It was best practice, to make sure that the delicate gems wouldn’t get unnecessarily tarnished. You’d never once forgotten to put them back on, though.

You linger on the absence of the rings and the presence of the man sleeping soundly right beside you. Joy and guilt. Lightning and thunder.

–

There are large hands around your waist. Lips flush against the skin of your neck, murmuring and muttering words of praise and astonishment. Those hands slip lower and lower, rucking up the hem of your nightgown to your waist. Calloused fingertips brush the junction of your thighs and you feel heat licking up your center.

Look at me while you come for me, baby.

You do look up, mind overtaken by heat and lust and longing. Your breath catches in your throat. You know this jawline. You know these lips. You know that voice.

Say my name.

Your mouth goes to form the word but you lose yourself in huffs of breath and twisted sheets. You wake, just as you hit your peak. The sound that was so difficult to make in your dream state emerges from your mouth, watery and wanting.

Javy.

–

You spend the next three days locked in your room. You take all your meals to go, even though you can see the disappointment on Javy’s face every time you do. Disappointment you only see when you are confident that you can look at him without bursting into flames. The opportunity is few and far between these days. He’s always in the background. Asking if you’d like to accompany him to the store or go on a hike. Your answer is always the same.

Your forced solitude only lasts for another two days before Javy politely knocks on your door and enters your room. You mumble out a lackluster greeting barely looking up from your laptop or your desk. There’s a water stain near your left wrist, a circular ring that matches the bottom of your favorite mug.

“Are you gonna tell me why you’re avoiding me?”

Maybe you should get a coaster. Civilized people used coasters, didn’t they? Civilized people used coasters and went hiking and did not have sex dreams about their dead husband’s best friend.

Javy says your name. It sounds weary. Like he’s approaching a wounded deer, hoping that she’ll let him near her before she goes running off into the forest to bleed out alone.

He sighs and sits on the edge of your bed, keeping a respectful distance. The mattress dips under the weight of him.

“Is it because we’re living together now? Do you—“ He clears his throat and suddenly, despite being well over six feet tall, he looks small. “Do you regret moving in together?”

You realize now that you’re not the deer. Javy is. He was living a fine and peaceful existence before you showed up with a shotgun and a need for flesh.

His question is tentative. Bleeding out in a forest alone doesn’t sound so bad, all things considered.

“No!” You blurt out your answer so fast it almost startles you. You take a moment, “No that’s not it at all.”

“Then what is it? Is it something I did?”

“Not exactly.”

“It’s just–God, I can’t believe I’m telling you this–I had a dream.”

“Like a nightmare? You know you can talk to me about those–”

“Not that kind of dream.” Javy had been helpful with nightmares in the past. He knew how to calm you down, especially when you realized that waking up didn’t necessarily mean that the nightmare was over.

He sits there, earnest and sympathetic and terribly understanding in a way that you don’t deserve and don’t know if you can handle right now.

“It was a sex dream.” You breathe out, cheeks hot and fists rumpled in your bedsheets.

“Oh. Oh.”

You both sit in silence for a moment. Javy decides to break it.

“Was it– Was I–” He tries so hard to make the words come out, but nothing does. His hands rest on his thighs and he furrows his brows and directs his gaze to the carpet.

“I think it was because we’ve been around each other so much. And obviously, it’s been a while.”

Javy agrees with you because of course he does. You try to breathe some lightness into your tone, anything to battle this heaviness that’s sunken into the conversation. “It’s crazy how the human brain works, right?”

Javy’s eyes drop to your lips, but only for a second. He smiles politely and bows his head in subtle agreement. “It is crazy.”

–

Flu season passes through San Diego like a plague. It seems every week, another one of your coworkers is out, whether it be their own health in distress or their children’s. It was only a matter of time before it came to you.

Despite having gotten your flu shot, you experience probably the worst bout of sickness in your life. You’re bundled up on your bed, fluffy robe with the drawstring pulled tight. Javy is hovering in the hallway–because that seems to be his neutral state of being these days, hovering. He dares not to open the door because of your self-imposed quarantine. You’ve created an imaginary moat of used tissues and dirty clothes, all to protect the fire-breathing dragon that is your feverish body.

“If you don’t go, I will strangle you.” You threaten, though it comes out weak and nasal.

“I can always reschedule–”

“You’ve been rescheduling on this girl for two weeks! I’ll be fine, I promise! I’m probably just going to watch old episodes of New Girl until I pass out from exhaustion.”

“Fine, but if you need anything–anything at all–just text me or call me.”

You verbally push Javy out of the door with more assurances and less thinly veiled threats. Things have been awkward between the two of you since your confession. You’re almost relieved at your sickness and the way it has allowed you to avoid more unnecessary face-to-face contact. At least that’s what you tell yourself. But when you hear the front door shut and the sound of Javy’s engine starting up, you look around the room. Running your hands over the wrinkled bedding, a feeling almost like loneliness settles over you.

–

It was an unfortunate ending to a mild evening. A broken Javy crackled over the speaker before he was speeding his way across town.

You’re shivering by the time he reaches you. Which makes no sense because you’re so hot that Javy hisses when his palm touches your clammy forehead. He’s about to scoop you up and load you into the back seat of his car when you come to. You murmur and whine and he tells you that he’s got you and he’s here. He explains that he’s gonna take you to the hospital and that seems to be the only thing that breaks you out of your feverish state because you open your eyes and tell him No hospital.

He’s lucky that the upholstered lounge chair in the corner of your room is as comfy as it is because that’s where he stays for the rest of the night. He holds a cold damp cloth to your forehead, murmuring apologies when you whimper at the disorienting change in temperature. He routinely uses a thermometer, because damn your wishes if it means that you die in this bed on his watch. Your fever stays just below the concerning range and it isn’t until 4 am that it finally breaks.

Only then does Javy let himself fall asleep.

You wake up weak and disoriented. Javy pulled up the chair from the corner of the room to right next to the bed. After a bowl of soup, he convinces you to take a bath and changes out your sweat-soaked flannel sheets for fresh ones straight from the dryer.

“Oh my god, your date! I’m so sorry—“

Javy waves you off with a wave and a gentle dismissal. He insists it’s fine. That there was no spark anyways.

It’s not until you’re tucked under the covers with half a cup of tea on your nightstand that he slips into the hallway and sends out a text.

Had a lovely time last night.

I just don’t think I’m in the right headspace for a relationship right now.

I hope you understand.

#top gun maverick #javy coyote machado #javy machado x reader #javy machado #javy machado fanfiction #jake seresin angst #jake seresin x reader #javy machado oneshot #javy coyote machado oneshot #javy coyote machado x reader #top gun maverick fanfiction

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bradshawsbaby · 2 years

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Letters to My Love // Part IV

Moonlight Becomes You

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: When you signed up to volunteer with the USO, you never anticipated that you would meet a man like Ensign Robert Floyd. Fate brings you together one balmy spring evening in Charleston—the night before Bob is set to ship off across the Atlantic. Pen and paper become your only means of sharing your heart with the naval aviator who’s captivated it, igniting a correspondence that spans the distance between you. Can love blossom even as war rages and thousands of miles keep you apart?

Word Count: 3.6k

Author’s Note: A quick historical note - President Roosevelt’s fireside chats are mentioned in this chapter. For those who may be unfamiliar with American history, the fireside chats were a series of radio addresses given by FDR between 1933 and 1944. They were designed to keep the American public updated about The Great Depression and the United States’ progress in World War II. If you’re interested, you can actually hear the audio of the fireside chat that Peach references in her letter.

Set the Mood: If you’re looking for some 1940s vibes, check out the playlist I made to pair with the story!

The title for this chapter comes from the Bing Crosby song of the same name.

Dedication: This story continues to be dedicated to my sweet friend, @luminousnotmatter. Her support has meant so much to me in writing this series!

Warnings: Alternating POV, references to war and its impact, allusions to childhood death caused by the 1918 Influenza pandemic, references to illness, a lot of fluff.

August 7, 1942

Dear Peach,

It makes me real happy to hear that you like the nickname. I was surprised to learn that you’ve never had a nickname all your own, but I’m doubly happy to be able to give you your first. It’s a real honor, let me tell you. Not to mention the fact that you ARE special, so you certainly deserve to feel that way.

I think when we all get back, we’ll have to be very careful to keep Dottie, Tommy Boy, and Benny from conspiring, you and I. They do sound like they’re very much of one mind, your sister and my friends—though I’m sure Dottie is much lovelier than my lughead buddies. As I write this, in fact, Benny is snoring loud enough to wake the entire carrier. I’m not sure how any of the other fellas are managing to get any sleep. But at least as long as he’s snoring, I know he won’t be reading over my shoulder. We have to take our victories where we can, as we’re all quickly learning.

Now that I think about it, I do believe I made you a promise in my last letter, Peach. I promised I would try to be more organized, and I’m going to stick to that. I’m going to make a list, so that I’m sure to answer each and every part of your letter. I have to admit that I’ve read it five or six times already. The thought that you’d take such precious time out of your day to sit and write to me of all people still seems simply too good to be true, but so long as this dream is my reality, I’m going to make the most of it. I want you to know how much every word you write means to me.

First of all, trust me when I say that your words truly are sweeter than any dessert they could dream up for us here. Sweeter than honey, sweeter than ice cream, sweeter than pie—heck, even sweeter than a Georgia peach. Mail Call IS a wonderful day, and getting a letter from you makes it all the more wonderful.

I appreciate your belief in me, Peach, more than words could say. In all honesty, I’m probably not even a quarter as brave as you think I am. Maybe I shouldn’t admit that in writing. I’m sure the rest of the guys would tell me to play the part of the hero, but the truth is that I don’t feel like one most days. I only want to serve my country and do my part, but I’d be lying if I said there weren’t days when I felt downright terrified to be here. “War is hell” is right, no doubt about it. I hope you don’t think less of me for saying so. But somehow, I know you won’t. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I just know I can trust you with these sorts of things. The thought of getting to lay down my burdens with you, even if only for a moment, is such a gift. Thank you.

Paris, huh? That must have been some honeymoon. Since we’ve arrived, I’ve been able to see [REDACTED], but I’m sure it can’t compare to what your parents saw back then. One day, I hope you do get to make it here, Peach. I hope you get to see all the most beautiful parts of the world. I wouldn’t want you to be here now, not when everything feels the opposite of beautiful, but one day. We’ll make it safe here again so that it’s beautiful for you. I promise.

Listen, if you can convince your mama to hand over the peach tart recipe, I just might be able to convince my mama to share her apple cobbler recipe…

Speaking of which, it made me smile to hear about your Fourth of July. For the record, Paddy was right—getting to hear about the parades and the fireworks and the strawberry pound cake (I’m sorry about the sugar, by the way) made me feel like everything we’re doing over here is worth it. Some days are real hard. Some days, it feels like we’re not making any progress. But when I hear that you and your family are safe and happy back home, it makes me realize that what we’re doing over here every day does matter. So long as you’re all still able to celebrate Independence Day in peace, then we’re doing our job. Some of the other fellas got letters from their families, telling them about their Fourth of July parties and picnics, too. We all sat together and read them out loud, and it made us feel for a moment like we were there. We could taste the hot dogs and the watermelon and the Root Beer Floats. And it made us smile and laugh, Peach. I promise, nothing you could tell me about life back home would feel like salt in a wound. On the contrary, it’s like a balm for our spirits.

I’m sorry to hear about Frankie’s teeth. I hope the little guy is doing alright. I remember watching my brothers go through it growing up, and seeing Clara go through it just a couple years ago. Being her godfather, it felt extra hard to watch her suffer, so I know just how you feel watching your nephew. In her most recent letter, Natasha told Paul that Paul, Jr.’s been cutting some teeth as well, but he’s “soldiering on, just like his daddy.” It seems like such a small thing, but I could hear Paul crying in his bunk that night. I don’t think he’d mind me telling you that, Peach, considering how trustworthy you are. He misses Natasha and Clara and Paul, Jr. something fierce, and I know he can’t wait for the day when he gets to hold them in his arms again. Since your thoughts for us seem to be so powerful, maybe you could spare some for Paul? I know it’d mean a lot to him.

Paddy is a good man, Peach. A great man. I know you know that and you don’t need to be hearing it from me, but it’s true. If ever he’s feeling down about staying stateside, you let him know that none of us could be doing what we’re doing over here if it wasn’t for what he’s doing over there. He’s a smart guy, Paddy is, and we appreciate how hard he’s working. If anyone feels differently, well—quite frankly, their opinion just doesn’t matter.

It is a little tricky to have a conversation on paper, indeed. Oh, I wish more than anything that we could be talking face to face. I think of that night on King Street all the time. Can I be honest with you, Peach? I hope you won’t think this is too forward, but when the days here are long and hard, sometimes I just picture your pretty face and it makes things feel better. And I hope you know that your loveliness is so much more than just skin deep—your heart and your kindness are what make you so beautiful. I’m sorry for being so forthright—I hope I haven’t made you uncomfortable—but I just wanted you to know that. Your friendship and your kindness to me that last night stateside mean so much to me, and they always will.

Speaking of friendship, I’m rather starting to think that my friends like you more than they like me. You should have seen Tommy Boy’s and Benny’s faces when I told them you said hello—they lit up like fireworks on the Fourth of July and demanded to see your words for themselves. Evidently, my word wasn’t good enough. They say hello in return and want to thank you for all your well wishes. Paul says hello, too. He says of course he remembers you, and that he hopes you’re doing real well. He still hasn’t forgotten about getting Natasha a string of pearls just as pretty as yours.

I’m sorry the heat’s been so oppressive back in Charleston. We’ve had nothing but rain here for weeks, so we’ve been rather wet and miserable. But your letter was a bright spot amidst the clouds, and I’d be happy to take some of that southern sun off your hands if you’d be willing to take some of our clouds and rain.

Now you’ve really given me something to look forward to, Peach, if you’re really serious about singing something at our next dance. I assure you that it’s easy to promise that I won’t laugh because I KNOW you won’t be terrible at it. Your voice, I know, is just as lovely as you and I can’t wait to hear it.

It’s funny you mention “Chattanooga Choo Choo” because that one just so happens to be one of my mother’s favorites. I think the two of you would get along just swell. I just had a letter from her the other day, and she assured me that all is well at home. It does my heart good to hear that from both her and you.

I do know “Blue Moon,” Peach. And I don’t think I’ll ever be able to hear it the same way again without thinking of your beautiful words. As I write this letter right now, the moon is shining down, and I’m picturing it shining down on you, too. The last time I got to see you—well, I suppose the only time I got to see you—was in the moonlight, so I think it will always be special to me. And you’re right—when I think of the same moon shining down on you and me, and all my friends and family back home, it makes me think that maybe the world isn’t so big a place after all. Maybe we’re not all as far apart as it seems. Thank you for reminding me of that. I did tell Paul, and he wrote your words down to send to Natasha. So we all owe you a debt of gratitude.

Alright, have I rambled on enough? Goodness, I don’t think I’ve ever written letters so long as the ones I write to you, Peach. But I suppose it’s because I want you to know me. It’s funny, I’ve always been happy to blend into the background. I’m not the sort of guy that most people take notice of—not like Paul and Tommy Boy—and that’s okay. I’ve always been fine with that. But with you—well, I want you to know me. I don’t want to blend into the background where you’re concerned. And I think that maybe you understand that? I felt it that night we met—that you understand. You understand so much, Peach, and I’m so grateful for that.

I won’t bore you with it now, but maybe sometime in the future, I could tell you stories about myself? Stories from when I was growing up, stories from Annapolis—stories that will help you get to know me? I would never want to pry, and you don’t have to tell me anything about yourself that you don’t want to, but I thought that maybe—well, I don’t know what I thought except for the fact that I’d really like to know you, the same as I’d like you to know me.

Okay, I think exhaustion is starting to addle my brain, and I should probably stop writing before I say something that makes me look even more foolish than I probably already have.

You’re in my thoughts, Peach, and I wish you nothing but the best. I hope this letter finds you happy and well.

Sincerely Yours,

Bobby

September 19, 1942

Dear Bobby,

I’m so, so sorry that it’s taken me so long to write you back. I felt that your beautifully heartfelt letter deserved all my attention, and I didn’t want to sit down to write a response until I was able to give it that.

We had a bit of a crisis here in the Sheridan household back in August, around the same time your letter arrived in the mail. We’re not sure how he possibly could have picked it up, but poor, sweet Frankie came down with influenza. He couldn’t keep anything down, and then he started burning up with a terrible fever. Dottie was absolutely frantic, and we rushed him to the hospital. When the doctors confirmed it was the flu, Dottie was beside herself. I know you’ve never met Frankie, but he’s normally such a happy baby, so full of life and joy—to see him so still and lethargic and quiet was quite terrifying. I was scared, too, but I tried to remind Dottie that her son was just as strong as his mother. Dottie was born in 1918, you see, during the Spanish Flu epidemic. She was one of the only babies who survived in the hospital where our mother delivered her. I think that’s all Dottie could picture—all those mothers and fathers who never got to bring their children home. She insisted on bringing Frankie home to care for him—she said she wasn’t going to run the risk of keeping him in the hospital.

Poor baby was terribly sick for over a week. I don’t think Dottie or Paddy slept a wink that whole time. I tried to convince them to take turns staying up with him, so that they could get some rest, but they just stayed by his side all night, every night. It really is quite something, isn’t it? The power of a mother and father’s love? I won’t lie, Bobby, there were some really scary moments when we weren’t sure he was going to pull through. I’ve never been so afraid or cried so many tears in all my life, I think. But then one day, his fever finally broke and we could see the light at the end of the tunnel. I’ve never seen my sister or brother-in-law look more happy or relieved. It felt like we had all been holding our breath without even realizing it, and we were finally able to breathe deeply again.

We’ve all been in recovery mode since then, and have been monitoring Frankie very carefully. Just as he started to get better, Dottie fell a little under the weather, so Paddy and I were taking care of them both. I’m very happy to report that both my sister and my nephew are back to their smiley, happy selves, which has been such a joy. I’ll be very glad to put this whole episode behind us.

I want to thank you for your last letter, Bobby, because it truly helped keep me sane when it felt like the whole world was spinning out of control. Though I didn’t feel able to write back until everyone was feeling better, I did read your letter every night before I went to sleep. You wrote that my stories from home were like a balm to your spirit, and I just want you to know that your words were a balm to mine. You are one of the kindest men I’ve ever known, Bobby. Thank you. Thank you so much.

You would think with so much time to plan this letter in my mind, I would have something brilliant to share, but I’m afraid that I’m still feeling a bit scatter-brained after everything. So here are the words that have been bouncing around in my head and my heart for the past few weeks, in response to yours:

You’ll always be a hero in my eyes, Bobby. The fact that you’re brave enough to admit that you’re terrified just further proves it to me. True heroes don’t think of themselves as heroes. They just do the job that needs being done—like you’re doing. And your country is so proud of you for it. I’m so proud of you for it.

I believe you when you promise that you’re going to make it safe there, wherever you are right now. I’m confident that the world will be a beautiful place again. Maybe one day you can show it to me.

I might just be able to convince my mama to share her peach tart recipe. We’ll see. You sweet talk your mama, and I’ll sweet talk mine.

Thank you for putting my mind at rest about telling you stories from home. If they really do lift your spirits, then I promise to tell you as many stories as you want to hear.

Poor Frankie really can’t catch a break, can he? Between his teeth and the flu, he’s had a rough go of it lately. But I’d say he’s “soldiering on,” same as Paul, Jr. I’m sorry to hear how hard the separation is for Paul. As his best friend, I’m sure it’s hard to watch him struggle with that. Of course I’ll be thinking of Paul and Natasha and the children. I include them in my prayers every night, and I’ll continue to do so until they’re all together again. I keep all of you in my prayers.

Thank you for your kind words about Paddy, Bobby. I didn’t share them with him, because I didn’t want him to be upset that I knew how he’d been feeling, but I have your words tucked away in my heart, and I’ll be sure to pass them onto him when the time is right. He is a good man, and I’m glad to know that other people see it in him, too.

You really are too kind to me, Bobby. I have a feeling you may be remembering me through rose-colored glasses, but I thank you for your sweetness all the same. Your friendship means a lot to me, too, and I’ll always be so thankful for that night we met. I’ll never forget it.

I find it impossible to believe that your friends could ever like me more than you. How could they, when you’re such a wonderful friend? Tell Tommy Boy and Benny that I say they have to take your word as golden because you’re extremely trustworthy. I don’t want to hear about any more of this doubting nonsense. And tell Paul that my family knows a couple jewelers who would be glad to help an American hero. Whenever he’s ready to find those pearls, he can just give a holler.

I’ll gladly give you some sunshine in exchange for some rain! With fall coming, it’s not quite as hot as it’s been, but we’d still gladly take fresh, clean rain to wash away the last of the sticky heat.

What song would you like to hear? I’ll start practicing now, so that by the time you come home, maybe it’ll be halfway as good as you seem to think it’s going to be.

From what you told me, your mother sounds just lovely. I’d love to listen to some Glenn Miller over a nice apple cobbler with her.

Oh, none of you owe me anything. I’m sure I’m not the first person to make such an observation about the moon, and I won’t be the last. But I am glad that it could bring you all a little bit of comfort. And when the moon comes up tonight, I’ll be thinking of you.

Bobby, you could never fade into the background, not to me. But I do understand what you mean. I’ve always felt the same. I’ve never been one that people take notice of. Dottie’s always been good with crowds. My friends Emily and Marilyn—they were volunteering with me that night at the dance—they’re always good at making conversation. I’ve never been that way. And I’ve always accepted that about myself, same as you. But it is nice to feel like someone really sees you, like they really know you. I have that with my family, but it’s good to know there’s someone else out there who understands me. Someone like you, Bobby. I want you to know me, too.

I’d like it if we could share stories with one another. I’d like that very much. I want to hear more about your farm in Iowa, and your family, and all the mischief that you and Paul and Natasha got into when you were growing up. I’m all ears, whatever you’d like to share.

Before I close my letter, I thought you might like to know that President Roosevelt gave one of his fireside chats a couple weeks ago. He hasn’t given one since April, so we were all very eager to hear what he had to say. He spoke a bit about inflation and the cost of things. He promised that he’s working with Congress to try to keep things as reasonable as possible, but we all understand that’s rather difficult with a war on. And we’re happy to make the sacrifices necessary to do our part for the war effort.

He also spoke a bit about the progress of the war. I admit that talk of battles and military strategy goes a bit over my head, but he did say something that stuck out to me and has been in my head ever since. He said—and forgive me if I paraphrase a bit—that battles and wars aren’t won by men who are concerned about themselves, about their own safety and comfort. And it made me think of you, Bobby, and all your friends. It made me think of what you’re sacrificing, especially your safety and comfort. We’re going to win this war. I know it. And it’s because of men like you. Don’t ever doubt that.

I hope that when this letter finds you, you’ve managed to carve out a little bit of safety and comfort for yourself. I hope that you’re doing well, and that you’ll be able to come home soon.

Please stay safe, Bobby.

All my best,

Peach

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman #WWII AU #1940s AU

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xylianasblog · 13 days

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Worthy of You

Pairing: Agedup! Spider x MetkayinaFem Reader

Synopsis: In a place where being human was basically frowned upon Spider Socorro was determined to show you that he was worthy of your love. He’d fight tooth and nail to show just how much he belonged with you and apart of the people.

Warnings: Angst, Mutual pining, Eventual Smut, Depression, fluff, comfort.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳ ༻❀✿❀༺➳ ༻❀✿❀༺ ➳

During the evening times and even late at night when he was free he’d sneak off to different parts of the village and spend time to with himself. Spider basked in the quietness of the beach, the idle yet gentle sounds of the ocean waves dancing to its own beat. He would practice his breathing, swimming and fishing until it was nothing short of perfection. His skills would slowly begin to improve, he would get much stronger, his muscles began to fill out even more. This was a show of his hard work the testimony of his determination to prosper.

Spider couldn’t figure it out how it all came down to this, he was nothing, small and worthless. He couldn’t do much, he wasn’t built to at least not on this planet, this wasn’t his home yet it was.

He watched you from afar, wondering how he could prove he was enough for you. That he’d truly make a good mate despite his appearance, his features, his heart was good and he’s do anything to prove it.

The pressures weren’t as high, not like they would be if you were the daughter of the chief, but luckily you weren’t. Just the daughter of the clans weavers, simple and sweet. That didn’t meant he didn’t feel like he had to try any less to prove to not only you but your parents and the clan that he was capable. That he was worthy of you.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳ ༻❀✿❀༺➳ ༻❀✿❀༺ ➳

Spider sat quietly on the beach, it was nearly eclipse. He had spent the day trying to learn to fight, he wanted to know how to fight in the water. To move but he was struggling, he didn’t understand that he was learning as a Na’vi without trying to adjust his body to that of a humans style.

All of the days frustrations clouded his mind, the thoughts and self hatred slowly clouded his mind. He felt the weight of being a failure begin to weigh down his chest, feeling as if he was about to cave in on himself.

He groaned quietly as he held back his tears, the feeling of his weights on his chest began to make him feel as if he was being weight down. “Fuck! I hate this stupid human body.” He bellowed.

Unbeknownst to spider you weren’t far off, having been gathering shells for a new top you wanted to make. It broke your heart to see him struggle as he did, to you spider was already shown he was part of the people. “You do well enough already tawtute, besides I like your small body. And your strange tawtute features.” You muttered as you say your basket down as you crouched down beside him. Spider looked up at you a frown on his lips but he couldn’t deny the way his body slowly relaxed.

“Yeah you’re the only one y/n. Everyone else sees me as a burden, a tawtute stuck here with the sullies.” You both knew that his words were true however harsh they were. Spider watched as you reached your hand out to gently touch at his cheek. Slowly sliding your fingers up to his eyebrows, fingertips brushing against the hairs before slowly making your way back to his cheek. He watched the way you let out a soft puff of air, your tail swaying back and forth and your ears pinned back in a frustrated manner before finally your fingers lightly traced over the faint blue stripes that stained his skin.

“You are mighty but small, brave. Stupid but brave. You do well to learn tawtute.” Spider would be lying if he said your words didn’t make his heart nearly beat out his chest. The touch your fingertips against his sweaty skin. The feeling leaving a cool feeling behind on his heated skin. “You are already proving you belong. I have seen you spider.” With a soft smile and no other worths spider watched as you gathered your basket and left him there on the beach.

He sat there in a daze, his resolution to prove to everyone that you were right. That he did belong, but most importantly that he’d be the perfect mate to you.

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Taglist: @pandoraslxna @neteyamsoare @sunfyresrider @neteyamsyawntu @etherialblackrose @blue-slxt @justcaptiannoodles @neteyamyawne @oakbuggy @eywaite @luvv4j4ybe11 @quicktosimp @cardi-bre91 @torukmaktoskxawng @rivatar @thepeonysbackup @tallulah477 @anemonelovesfiction @erenjaegerwifee

#avatar #avatar twow #atwow spider #atwow spider socorro #spider x y/n #spider socorro #spider x na'vi reader #spider x reader

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smehur · 15 days

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Drarry fic recs #4

Marginal Notes by @blamebrampton

When you're 18, and nothing is as it was meant to be, sometimes it can be hard to let the right people know what you are thinking. Thankfully, Draco Malfoy owns a quill.

What a delightful story! I loved the thoughtful, grounded, calm Draco and how well he applied his wit (and the penchant for fixing things?) to solving other people's problems. It's a bit on the side of wishful thinking - I don't really believe someone could change that much over night - but it's nice wishful thinking that I enjoyed and would happily inflict on myself again. Among other things, I enjoyed the crisp, flawless writing. It's not often the editor in me wouldn't change a single word in a fic. I very much plan to read BB's entire catalogue.

The Boy from the Piano Shop by @soliblomst

After going blind in a reckless attempt to avenge Ginny's death, Harry battles with severe depression. One day, he stumbles upon a quaint piano restoration shop in the heart of London and meets the owner, a kindly old man, and his introverted young apprentice, whose voice sounds strangely familiar. As Harry and Draco slowly reconnect through private piano lessons, the small workshop becomes Harry's refuge, offering him a glimmer of hope in a world without eyes.

Finally got to read this fic everyone's talking about. And for good reasons! It's heartbreaking and wholesome, starkly realistic and hopelessly romantic, all at once. I'm often annoyed by shallow depictions of low self-esteem that goes with depression, especially when it's used as an artificial obstacle in the way of romance ("I'm not good enough for you, so even though I love you, I'm breaking up"), and this is one of the few stories (by which I mean all my reading, not just fanfiction) where I could completely believe it, and sympathize with it. (Bonus points for not being used as an obstacle in the way of romance.) The general lack of obstacles in the way of romance was incredibly refreshing and welcome, as was the lack of drama around the revelation that Harry Potter is secretly friends with Draco Malfoy. Everything is very mature, to the point where I think the story would be better set in their 30s than in their 20s, but I didn't mind. Harry's grief is all-present and at times, harrowing, but never gratuitous, and it's well-balanced by the peace and joy he finds in Draco's company. The two scenes where Draco unexpectedly dons a scarf are etched in my memory forever. An incredible piece.

i stay by @hogwartsfirebolt

The darkening sky is dangerous for the shape of Harry’s desire, it makes it seem reasonable, as though it were a natural conclusion of having Draco once again within reach, rather than the mirage it actually is.

I said it before, and I'll say it again: this fic is exquisite. Tense and tender in perfect proportion and filled with a dazzling array of sensory details that painted each scene like a work of art. Although I could see what was coming in the end (thanks to expert foreshadowing), the finale still stole my breath away. A wonderful read!

All Life is Yours to Miss by Saras_Girl & podfic by originally

Professor Malfoy's world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go.

Oh, this was such a joy to listen. I think I had a smile on my face for the whole duration of the podfic (about 12 hours), minus the few minutes when there were tears instead. I don't know where to start with the praise. The meticulously constructed world of Draco's self-imposed loneliness? The supporting cast of interesting and well-rounded original characters? The tangible, eminently relatable trials and tribulations of a teacher's life? Or maybe the deceptively simple concept at the root of the story, allowing Draco to break out of his shell on his own? Oh, how I love this gentle, fragile, vulnerable Draco hiding behind impatience and aloofness and his sharp tongue. And the fearless, unstoppable Harry, his bouts of bad temper and his naked honesty. And Stanley, with that inevitable, ill-timed tack-tack-tack! Everything felt so true, so real, so close, I felt just as exposed and frightened as Draco, just as desperate at his inability to make a move. I know I said this half a dozen times by now since I started reading fic in this fandom, but I can't help it. This may be the best fic I've ever read.

Correction! The best fic I've ever heard! The reading was impeccable, possibly the best I've heard so far, and infused the story with even more life and love and laughter. A beautiful, unforgettable experience.

Heartbeat by @saxamophone (eight_of_wands)

Harry hates Draco. Draco hates Harry. Only it's not hate, not even a little bit. Featuring: a cooperative independent study, golden hour on wrecked sheets, water from fountains of dubious origin, purple Mardi Gras beads, and a bird with silly legs. Also featuring: heated arguments, infidelity, unquenchable desire, and heartbreak. Over and over again.

I'll be honest: this fic did not grip me at once. I could even say I struggled through the first few stances. But then came the understanding of what "I hate you" means and I read on with eyes wide and heart thumping (Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy) and I was so very richly rewarded. Among all the things I loved about it, the most memorable are the incredibly vivid images and impressions of New Orleans, and the moment of searing, all-consuming jealous rage that I regret to say I could relate to all too well. The confrontations were exquisite, the dialog sparking with tension and more importantly, with truth. There's no melodrama here to create suspense, it's all raw and real and indeed, heartbreaking. But hearts can mend. :)

Many, many, heartfelt thanks to all the authors in this amazing fandom and to all the readers helping spread the word. 💞

#drarry #harry/draco #fic rec #rec list #harry potter #my post

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bella-rose29 · 1 year

Text

Bright Young Soul

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Campbell Bain has a depressive episode, don't read unless you're up for some unhappy reading times basically, probably way too much italicising but oh well, I am not an expert on bipolar in any way and this is purely from what I saw in tota and research online, so please please please pick me up on anything I have done wrong, I also am not Scottish

based entirely on this post and the notes <3

Tag list: @bugbugboy, @biromanticboba, @heretoboogie

"Campbell, c'mon. Stop mucking about."

"Campbell, could ya keep the noise down?"

"Campbell, I'm busy."

"Not now, Campbell."

"Campbell, be quiet! I cannae hear myself think!"

"Quit fidgeting, Campbell!"

Campbell didn't want to stop mucking about, or keep the noise down, or quit fidgeting, and he had so many questions that needed answers and thoughts that needed sharing he was about to burst, and given he was in St. Jude's he couldn't very well start talking to himself, or they'd lock him up somewhere horrible. The nurses had been telling him those things all day, and when Eddie had turned up for his radio show Campbell had barely raised his head in greeting. He'd hoped that the older man would notice that something was off, and see what he could do to fix it, but when Eddie was only brusque with him and seemingly uncaring that Campbell wasn't wittering in his ear, it made Campbell sink further into himself.

The show went the same as it would on any other day, with the exception of Campbell's usual puppy dog energy, and when they had finished and were packing up, he felt even worse than he had before. Eddie hadn't noticed that anything was off, and Campbell was overthinking, wondering if the man actually cared about him or if it was all an act, like so many people had done before out of pity or the feeling that they were doing something good (they weren't, Campbell could usually see right through it and honestly it was kind of offensive).

"Campbell, can ye pass me that record, please," Eddie asked, arm outstretched. Campbell was so deep in his thoughts and spiralling further and further towards the edge he didn't notice, not really, registering the words but not really listening, and his eyes were focusing on nothing and everything at once, seeing the hand Eddie held out, but not seeing it.

"Campbell, for Christ's sake, what's the matter with ye? Stop acting daft and pass it over!"

The words cut deep, Campbell's brain letting them resonate and echo around his head as previous situations similar to this were remembered. "What?" he whispered, blinking the tears back. "I'm not daft!" His voice rose, practically shouting the last word which sounded so much louder than he'd meant in the tiny studio. "Nothin's the matter with me, Eddie, not to you, is there! Have ye even noticed me, Eddie? Have ye noticed me?"

"Of course I've noticed ye, Campbell, you're very difficult to miss!"

That hurt too, twisting the metaphorical knife deeper into Campbell's gut. He was tired, so fucking tired, and worn out, and exhausted, and every other synonym of the damn word, and his usual limitless energy was used up. He scoffed, all but throwing the record at Eddie and shoving his hands in his trouser pockets, hunching his shoulders.

"Ye know," he said, voice thick from holding back tears. "My dad used to say the same thing about me. I thought you were gonnae be different, Eddie, but you're just like him, aren't ye." The words kept coming after that, tumbling out of his mouth before he even had a chance to think them up, and he couldn't even remember what he was saying. More about his dad, about Eddie, about himself. He kept talking, running his hands through his hair in frustration and tapping his fingers on the desk next to him, just needing something to do, to fiddle with, to let out some of this newfound energy that stemmed from the floodgates opening. This energy hurt, though, and he didn't like it.

He could see that his tapping was annoying Eddie, but he couldn't stop, and he couldn't stop talking, ranting about pointless things, and he hated himself for it. He couldn't stop the tears now either, and they were pouring down his cheeks as he shouted. He vaguely made a note of nurses running down the corridor, and there was Stuart, and there was Eddie, standing watching Campbell and doing nothing, just like his father had done.

He could barely get the words out now, sobs wracking his body and making him choke, and he was so far off the edge that he'd fucking fallen off and was plummeting into nothingness, negative thoughts and memories surrounding him and making him fall faster. He couldn't speak any faster, and yet somehow he wasn't going fast enough, and everything was closing in on him and expanding away all at once, and he realised that he wanted them to sedate him, just so that he didn't have to deal with this anymore.

If they could keep him under forever that would be even better.

They came and grabbed him at some point, although Campbell wasn't sure when; it could have taken them two seconds or they could have been moving towards him for two hundred years. He'd lost all concept of anything other than his thoughts and the look on Eddie's face, and he was still shouting and yelling as they stuck the needle into his leg and wiped him out.

~~~

Eddie had been having a shit day, with MacAteer throwing him under the bus (again) for something he didn't even do, and Griffin making him go out and not letting Eddie come back in the building until he'd made five sales. He'd then discovered that his car had a flat tyre when he'd left for the day, and had to take it to the garage, needing a taxi to get to St. Jude's. The taxi driver had then gotten stuck in traffic, and Eddie was going to be late for his radio show. Somehow he still made it there in time to get set up and start without Campbell stepping in, but he was at the end of his rope and Campbell not listening to him had just pushed that big red button in Eddie, making him explode and shout at the boy. Campbell had flinched slightly, then fallen straight into shouting back at him, tapping and fidgeting, and Eddie could only stare as he went on, unable to speak. His protégée wasn't allowing much room for Eddie to talk, mind you, with his incessant chatter about his father (oh god, Campbell thought that Eddie was like his father), and pretty much anything else that came into his head. Rosalie had fetched the nurses, and now they were taking a hold of the boy and pushing him to lie over the desk so that they could sedate him properly. Campbell kept shouting, clearly unravelling with each second that went by, and Eddie felt awful, knowing that he had ignored the way that Campbell wasn't his normal happy self, and had been the one to cause this episode.

The next few days were absolute agony for him, since they weren't letting anybody see Campbell and Eddie had to live with himself and the lack of knowledge of when he could go and see the young man torturing him.

He was going to make sure that Campbell knew how sorry Eddie was, and that he was nothing like the man that called himself Campbell's father.

~~~

It was dark when Campbell woke up, groggy and both physically and mentally drained, and the only light in the room was the lamp on his bedside table. He accidentally stared at the bulb, blinding himself momentarily as he tried to work out who was sat next to him. The mop of dark curly hair leaned forward, and as Campbell's eyes adjusted and blinked away the last of the drowsiness he recognised the figure as Eddie.

"Whadda you want," he slurred, voice thick from being knocked out and his accent stronger than it normally was. He felt bad about the harsh tone, overwhelming guilt crashing over him like a tidal wave, but the last thing he remembered was Eddie sounding like- no. He couldn't go there again, couldn't think about that or he'd end up the way he was before. He knew he must have been sedated, since he never normally slept that much, but there were no memories in his head of why.

"I'm sorry, Campbell. I was having a shit day at work, and I know it's not an excuse but I am sorry. I was a dick to ye, and I shoulda noticed that ye weren't yerself, and I'm sorry," Eddie said, making tears well up in Campbell's eyes. He pushed them away, stopping them from falling as he heard his father's voice in his head telling him that 'real men dinnae cry, Campbell, so quit yer whining'.

"I'm sorry too, Eddie, I'm sorry." He was struggling against the guilt that wracked him, making him want to cry, and when it felt like he would burst if he didn't stop resisting he turned his head away from Eddie and sobbed into his pillow. Campbell felt Eddie move closer, the bed dip under the older man's weight as he laid a hand on Campbell's shoulder, thumb stroking gently in awkward consolation.

They stayed that way for a while, every now and then exchanging the words "I'm sorry" and "I'm sorry too" with each other, until after what felt like an eternity Campbell's sobs turned to sniffles, and he pushed himself up to sit next to Eddie on the bed.

He wiped his face with his shirtsleeves, cringing at the fabric when it came away soaked and grimacing when, as he sniffed to clear his nose, he got a mouthful of snot and phlegm. "Ugh, gross," he muttered, gladly accepting the tissue Eddie passed him and blowing his nose loudly. They sat side by side, not saying anything for a while. Eddie seemed to be debating where to go from here, what to do, or say. Campbell was kicking his feet, bare soles scuffing the floor, and fiddling with a bit of dead skin on one of his fingers.

"Careful not to pull too much, yeah? You'll end up stripping the thing bare and bleeding everywhere," Eddie joked quietly, trying to do something to raise his friend's spirits. Campbell moved his hands, placing them either side of his body so that he wouldn't be too tempted to start picking again. "I really am sorry, Campbell. I shouldnae have snapped at ye like that."

"I'm sorry too, Eddie. Not quite sure what for, mind, cannae remember most of it now. I know I went manic though, so... sorry, for... that."

"S'alright, Campbell. S'alright. C'mere." Eddie pulled him into an awkward hug, arm around Campbell's shoulders as the boy wrapped an arm around Eddie's waist, the other supporting his weight on the bed behind them. It was nice (if a little uncomfortable, but Campbell wasn't going to complain), being hugged like this, and he was sad when he needed to sit upright again to save his back from protesting against the angle anymore.

"Thanks," he mumbled, wiping away the tears that had snuck out at the knowledge that he was being held by somebody he considered a father.

"Anytime, Campbell. Ye ever need a hug, ye tell me, yeah? Likely that I'll need one too."

Campbell nodded, letting a small smile grace his face. Eddie's own smile appeared.

"There he is, he's coming back now." Campbell let out a wet laugh, nodding again and leaping up from the bed.

"Aye. Campbell Bain is back, people, back to be the 'Bain' of yer existence!" Eddie chuckled, glad to see the boy feeling better. He knew in that moment he'd do everything he could for this boy, this bright young soul, to make sure he knew that he wasn't alone in the world.

"I'll always be here for ye, Campbell. I mean it. The other day willnae happen again, yeah? Not like that. I've got ye."

"Thanks, Eddie. Thank you," Campbell said, sitting down again, expression earnest. "Really. I couldnae... I couldnae ask for a better person to look up to." Eddie smiled, clicking his tongue and tilting his head slightly as he ruffled Campbell's hair.

"Ye want a cocoa? It'll help, I'm sure."

"Please."

"Alright, ye wait here, I'll be back in a minute." Eddie left, heading in the direction of the kitchens. Campbell smiled after him, letting cautious hope enter his heart. Eddie was trying his best to make it up to Campbell, which was something his father had never done. Cocoa would help, definitely. And after cocoa, everything would start looking up.

#campbell bain #taking over the asylum #eddie mckenna

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lilith-little-world · 2 years

Text

When I was younger, I had a thing for that trope. Maybe it was due to having something very similar happened to me. Dreams are weird things, so I never questioned it until 6 (?) dreams later he kept invading my dreams. I always wanted to write them down and make a story about them but eh, I never got to it.

Anyways I got fanfics to write. Better to write those than that whole mess.

This one is a short one, but I'm planning to add parts to it. Just so I got something to do when I can't come up with the concept oneshots. Also bad grammar and sentence structure, I was like half asleep when I wrote this.

I Saw You Once In A Dream, Maybe|| Oneshot Pt. 1

It was the new year and you were spending time with your family. Last night was spent with a small feast and fireworks but now here you were washing the plates and pans. It was the least you can do since your parents made the feast for yesterday. Doesn't hurt to help clean up a bit.

“Sweetheart, tell me, are you seeing anybody?” Your mother asks while putting away the dishes.

“Sadly and fortunately, nope. Taking a break from all that.”

“I told you that person was no good for you, but you didn't want to listen to your mother.”

“You made it sound like we had ended things terribly, in reality, I just didn't have feelings for them.”

“It's always the same thing. I know, you didn't have any feelings but why did you give them a chance?”

You hand your mother the last plate, shrugging. Honestly, you didn't know why. Maybe the personality or looks that reminded you of someone? Possibly.

“Maybe, I was meant to be single forever.”

“Don’t say things like that, there's always a person for someone. Romantically or platonically. It just takes a while, that's all.”

“Then that person sure is taking their sweet time.”

You sigh tiredly, this wasn't your first time having this conversation with her. Even though her intentions were in a good place, after the first 10, it becomes tiring.

“Here, let me give you some leftovers to take home.”

There she went to get a big tupperware and fill it to the brim with food.

‘At least she tries.’

You smile and help your mother. It wasn't long until you left. Saying your goodbyes to your parents. Driving around the city, filled with life. Many people start off the new year with an exciting day. Going out, shopping, eating at a restaurant, spending it with family or friends, a significant other…

Okay, maybe your mother’s worries were definitely in a good and reasonable place to worry. You try to appear that you're doing fine, but in truth, you were lonely and craving for someone.

‘That's enough, thinking for one day. Time to turn off my mind.’

You get out of your car and walk around the busy streets. A crowd doing the same thing as you. Looking at the shops and cafe, wondering where to go next.

‘Remember kids, if you're feeling depressed or lonely buy some clothes and make-up and hope it fills the void.’

You notice a shop’s window, looking at the merchandise. It was all Monkey King theme. Journals, pens, keychains, stuffed toys, and so on.

“Or buy some merch…” You told yourself softly, lost in thought. It was a small stuffed toy of the famous monkey. Something in you demanded the toy. You obeyed and bought it, feeling a lot happier. It was a cute toy to own and is no bigger than your hands, it won't take much space. You bought a few more things, a few fine-tip pens and a journal. In other words, the day wasn't so bad.

The sun had set and you finally got home, exhausted. The house was empty and dark, with nothing but silence. A sigh escapes from your lips. The loneliness slowly swallows you up. Head to your room, not even trying to turn on the lights. You throw the bag at some random corner and collapse onto your bed. Just wanting the night to end.

You didn't know when you fell asleep, but your buzzing mind went silent. Like the room, you are sleeping in. Maybe your lonely mind was getting tired of your sulking and gave you a strange dream. I mean, what else can you it

It was bright, too bright. Things were fuzzy as your mind blocked out the voices talking to you. However, what you noticed was that you were looking in a mirror. You couldn't get a good look from being fuzzy so looking down, you noticed a red dress. There was golden embroidery of… Well, you couldn't make out what it was. It was blurry.

“Today is the big day! Are you excited?”

Turning to face the young woman with a blurry face. You couldn't help but look at her confused.

‘Excited for what?’, you wanted to say, but your mouth couldn't move.

Next thing you knew, the scenery changed and you were outside. The scene reminds you of a wedding.

Wait-

‘Is this my wedding?!’

You wanted to look around and see if anything cleared up, but it was still fuzzy and blurry as you walked down the aisle. The Wedding March, clearly playing as you came closer to the groom. Who was oddly more blurred than the others?

Okay, now that was rude. As much as this dream was crazy, your mind could have at least come up with a groom and then given you a blurry mess. You never had a greater urge to wake up than right at this moment.

You let the dream play out, as the ceremony went on. The groom held your hand, his hands were rough yet soft. Holding yours gently as if afraid to hurt you. His eyes were on you and a warm feeling filled your chest. You couldn't help but stare at him, trying to get a good look at his face. Slowly it unblurred as you saw a strange mark on his face and the unusual golden glow of his eyes.

“I promise nothing will tear us apart. I will fight the whole celestial army again if it means I can stay by your side.” He said, grinning at you.

“You're going to jinx yourself and when I'm around I'll keep you out of trouble so you won't have to fight the celestial army again.”

The words left your mouth. As much as you were confused, you found this cute. So you stopped questioning this dream and enjoyed this moment.

He leans into you, just inches away from your lips.

Beep, beep, beep, beep-

You grab your phone that was still in your pocket. Turning off the alarm, groaning.

“When the dream was starting to get good.”

You smothered your face into your pillow and let out a small scream.

“Why do I have to wake up?”

Begrudgingly, you got out of bed. The sunlight peeking through your curtains showers the room with light.

‘Right, I got work to do. That dream was nice while it lasted.’

Better to move on when the harsh reality demands more attention. Anyways it was just a simple dream that your lonely mind came up with.

Right?

_______________________________

Remember you can always request and ask questions!

#lmk sun wukong #lmk monkey king #lmk reader #sun wukong #lmk #lmk oneshot #lmk x reader #lmk x y/n #sun wukong x reader #lmk y/n #lmk sun wukong x reader #monkey king #monkey king x reader #lmk wukong #sun wukong x y/n #lego monkie king #lego monkie kid

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peachypede · 9 months

Text

Uncharted Tracks

Emmet x Reader

Wrote this on a night I was struggling with the new baby. I’ve been editing it here and there and decided to go ahead and post it. ❤️

Cw: Emmet and Reader are parents and have a baby. Emmet is having some Postpartum Depression. Small mention of breeding kink but it’s only for a joke.

Emmet likes schedule. No matter how utterly disorganized a person could be, they usually had some sort of pattern to their day-to-day life. People gravitate towards the familiar and become easy to predict once you figure out their habits. Know their tracks, know their train. This is how Emmet felt he could connect to others. Find their pattern, understand them as a person.

Emmet’s new child does not have a pattern.

Frustration pricks tears in his eyes as the baby squirms in front of him. Her little mouth opens and closes as she appears to signal for more food, but Emmet has given her the bottle five times now only to be rejected. If only baby tummies came with gauges so he’d know if she was hungry or not. He’s also popped the paci into her mouth only for her to spit it out. It’s now three in the morning and Emmet hasn’t had a wink of sleep. His partner sleeps for now (a good thing as they haven’t had proper rest since leaving the hospital) and Emmet is almost tempted to wake them if it wasn’t for the shame he felt.

This is his offspring. She’s half of him. So why can’t he just know what she wants?

He tries to swaddle her, but she wiggles out her little arms. He tries rocking her, bouncing her lightly up and down, singing in his monotoned voice to her. Its beginning to feel tempting to bring her in bed with him because he knows cuddling will calm her down and put her to sleep (and not to mention probably help HIM sleep too) but he wouldn’t dare ignore safety checks like that.

He’s beginning to feel like a failure. Fatherhood has just begun and he’s failing at it. He doesn’t deserve to be a father, really. Why did he even have a child? He should have known he would be inadequate-

“Emmet?”

The subway boss startles at the sound of his lover who has emerged from the doorway of their bedroom into the living room where he is struggling with their child.

“Sorry. Did I wake you?” Emmet asks, wondering if he was loud with his attempted humming in order to soothe their daughter.

“It’s hard to sleep…” His partner replies. They look worriedly at the baby. “Do you need help?”

Emmet wants to say no. He wants to say he’s fine. He opens his mouth and the words choke and tears spill out from his eyes.

More shame.

“Oh, honey…” His partner rushes to his side. Their hand gently places on Emmet’s arm. “I can take her for a bit. Why don’t you rest-“

“Why is this so hard!?”

His partner is the one to startle this time. Emmet hadn’t meant to be so loud, but he finds himself falling into a deeper despair at the thought that his partner might be able to quell their daughter instead of him and it makes him feel even worse at the feeling of jealousy that brings him.

“I am Emmet. I am her father. Why am I so bad at this…?” His voice becomes a quiver from the initial outburst. “Shouldn’t it feel natural? This is verrrrry hard…I am a conductor on a train going on uncharted tracks…”

Ingo would be better at this, he thinks but doesn’t say out loud.

There’s a moment of silence that feels longer than it actually is.

“…I felt the same way last night.” His partner begins softly. There’s a small exhale of breath, a half laugh, not at him but at the situation they’re both in. “Sometimes I feel like I’m handling things well and then she just…changes things up. Makes you feel crazy, huh?”

Emmet sucks in a breath and releases it, nodding and squeezing his eyes tight. He nestles the baby just a bit closer to his chest. She sneezes.

“Yes.” He responds. His head slowly sinks onto his partner’s and they nuzzle together for a bit.

“And she isn’t crying. She’s just awake. So we must be doing something right. Hopefully.”

“…yes.”

His lover shifts a bit, their face looking up into his own.

“I was reading online and it says they eventually sleep through the night maybe around six months?”

“Six months of this??” Emmet feels almost faint. Oh, he definitely shouldn’t have gone through with this. Curse his small breeding kink.

They laugh.

“No! No, they go to one feeding a night very soon from what I read, but they sleep through the night without any feeds around four or six months. But everyone says that eventually you fall into a rhythm of some sort. You get to know them and what they want and need…” They kiss his cheek lightly in comforting manner and hum.

A pattern, a rhythm, wants and desires…things Emmet is familiar with. Things that his child will one day also be familiar with. And he will be able to finally understand them.

“Anyway…” His partner continues. “You look tired, love. Let me take this shift.”

Emmet sighs, then relents. Being tired and easily upset isn’t a good mix with a baby, he knows that, so he places the infant into his other half’s arms. He gets up, but stops at the bedroom door and turns to say one last thing.

“I am Emmet and I will do the next one.” He says firmly, determined now that he could be a proper conductor for his family.

#submas emmet #subway boss emmet x reader #emmet x reader

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eldrigeonsss · 10 months

Text

I just made it back from Portland last night, and the post-con depression do be hittin a bit, but I got things to say, and people to say it to!!!!! So without further ado,

To my crew,

Thank you all so much for giving me legitimately the most fun convention I have ever been to, and the best birthday I’ve ever had. I could never have asked for a better crew and family. I’m sad we all have to return to our little corners of the world, but I am excited to see you all again. Because this is not goodbye, you’re stuck with me now. We’ll see each other again, be it in a year or whenever, it’s only a matter of time! I love you all dearly!!!

Ollie, ( @crypticcoffe )

To the small boy we keep on our ship (or rather in our hearts), thank you so much for being such a wonderful person. You are family, through and through, and I am so grateful that you made the decision to come to Kumo and hang out with us! It was so much fun, and I cherish every single memory we made together, and I look forward to the next year!! (Fingers crossed for the madoka magica cosplay group!) Thank you for making me feel wanted every single day, even with something as simple as a good morning and a good night. You don’t know just how much even that means to me. I want to repay that kindness someday, make sure you know just how important you are to all of us, no matter what. You’re family, and I keep saying it, but it’s just as true as the first time I said it. I’m so glad you accidentally joined the discord server, because it’s lead to probably the greatest group of people I could ever hope to know. It would never be the same without you, and I’m so glad you stuck around and hung o it with us. Love you, Ols! /p Can’t wait to keep making ridiculous memories with you!

Fish, ( @aquaticgoblinking )

You are legit one of the funniest people I know, even when we first started interacting there was just something to you that screamed that you were the king of comedy. I’m still studying the Atlantean alphabet diligently, the world is not ready for the day that I can just write it without a guide. You are such an integral part of our crew, you breathe life into it and inspire others even when you don’t mean to. By the way, that book you made me is going to be something I cherish forever, I’m probably going to end up filling it up pretty quickly, but I’ll be figuring out ways to make it last! I’ll be sure to bring it to Kumo next year and if you end up coming I’ll show you all the silly stuff I drew :3. Btw, I’m so so so happy you came to Kumo, I know we weren’t sure if it was gonna happen, but I hope you had a good time! Excited to get our silly crew together again soon!! I love our family, every single silly part of it.

Syren ( @sisiren )

To my Jay Ferin, my silly brain-linked buddy. I really don’t know what qualifies someone as a best friend, but I do know you’re like number one in terms of friends in my books! To think we only met one year ago, by complete chance, and soon we’re gonna be able to hang out so much more often!! You’re such a kind, understanding person, it makes my heart hurt. On that same point, GOD, do you know how to break hearts with your writing. Literally, if anyone ever wants their fucking emotions torn out and scattered like dandelion seeds, just read literally anything this absolute demon of a person has come up with. It’s harrowing. That aside, I cannot imagine a life without you in it. I can barely imagine life before you were there, it’s so funny. I joke about you me and Ti being albatrio, but I truly think we’re just all meant to exist together. Something deep inside of me knows that I’m exactly where I’m meant to be. We’ve talked a lot about fate and destiny, and not to sound super sentimental or anything, but with the little bracelet you got us sitting on my wrist, I can’t help but think. I think you two are my destiny.

Idk, that’s probably cheesy as hell. Still, I can’t wait to go skydiving with you, and celebrate your birthday like it’s the end of the world, and drag you out to experience every single thing life has to offer. See you soon, Sy!!

Tigers, ( @tigers1o1 )

Not to be gay, buuuuut.

I miss you, so much. It’s been a day, and I already miss hearing your laugh and leaning up against you and being able to reach over and touch you and just know that you’re there. We can call, of course, but I am counting down the days until I can see you next. I’ve actually started using a calendar, since I’ve started talking to you in full, which is hilarious. If you were to tell me two months ago that I would be staying up every night falling asleep on call, counting days like an advent calendar I would probably call you crazy, because why would anyone ever spend that much time with another person, especially when they are so far away??

Yeah, I get it now. A lot of things make sense now. Like why people are made with an inherent sense of yearning, a need to find that other half, that missing piece. Why completionists exist, why someone would spend their entire lives searching just for an inkling of a feeling. Freight train, am I right?

You and Sy are people I feel like I’ve known my whole life, despite only really being aware of each other for such a short amount of time. I don’t feel like the small time period takes away from our closeness, though, which is funny. Like it wouldn’t matter if we’ve known each other years or months or days, as long as we know each other. That’s all that matters. All that matters is that we’re connected, by whatever force or coincidence.

If you end up moving to Portland, that’ll be so damn funny. I definitely won’t be bouncing off the walls and running victory laps or anything ahah. It’s weird, to be so aware of one’s own loneliness, but to also be fine with it, because I know it will be filled when I get to see you next. Because I made an oath, and I intend to keep it, extra forever.

Okokok that’s the end of my spiel. Well, also, to Ollie’s dad, and to Fish’s sibling thing, thank you so much for joining us for Kumo as well!! To Nick who officiated the fish and chips wedding, thanks a million! To my sister, who was eternally our biggest hater, keep it up, your hatred only fuels us (/aff). And to that random dude on the street who offered me and Ti his blanket to dry off a bench while waiting for a train, I hope your days are filled with warmth and your belly is always full. Also to the black ops larper who stopped me in a market to talk about the government, hope ur doing alright king.

NOW IM DONE!!! HERE, SOME PHOTOS

#indrids ball pit #kumoricon 2023 #jrwi

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genderfluiddipshit · 1 month

Text

Smoke Break - A Pressure One Shot

Rated General (no tw/cw apply)

Tags: Reader Perspective, AU, Sebastian is just a wee bit depressed, taking advantage of the fact he smokes tobacco

Despite the name, the EXR-P divisions were anything but what they were meant to be: expendable. Blood transfusions, defibrillators, and resuscitative measures were used to ensure that prisoners wouldn’t just kill themselves to get out of a prison sentence. Instead, they had 2 choices: actually complete the objective of collecting the crystal and escaping with their lives, or be forced to loop endlessly in futile struggle. You wanted to do the former, but luck wasn’t on your side, so the latter ended up being your new purgatory.

On your current “run,” you decided to go solo, as your previous group was too cowardly to go anywhere beyond the starting dock. While the solace was eerie, it was nice to be alone for once. However, that didn’t mean you were fully alone, of course.

You had just reached the next door after an Eyefestation. As your head cleared, you looked up at the red navpath behind you. Fifty two. Ugh. You looked around for loose assets as usual, picking up folders until you heard something other than the jingling of key rings with USBs and manila folders with proprietary information. A clicking noise could be heard throughout the room. What could it be? A Wall Dweller making a hunting call? A collective Good People chittering as it awaited fresh meat?

You couldn’t quite pinpoint the sound until the faint clicking preceded a loud bang and a frustrated grumble. It sounded like it was coming from a distant room, so you continued onward. Fifty three, fifty four, fifty five, fifty six…

By the sixty-fourth room, you wondered if the noise was just a figment of your imagination.

Then it was right next to you.

A soft click sounded next to you, on your left. You only heard it once, followed by a deep inhale and exhale…Was someone smoking? You could smell the sour tobacco seeping out through the door. Smelled like a Chainsmoker, but softer, less pungent.

You slowly opened the door.

The wave of cigarette smoke hit you like a train. You coughed and attempted to regain your senses as you turned on your lantern to see.

“No no no, allow me.” A figure stood out against the smoke and weak lantern light. It seemed to fill the entire room. From what you could make out, it reached up toward its head and pulled at one of its appendages to illuminate itself, reminding you of an old lamp.

“What brings you here, prisoner?” It took a big huff from its cigarette. Two empty packs laid on a desk in front of him, with a third halfway done. Its voice rasped from the cig binge, and it tilted its head curiously as it awaited a response.

“Just doin my job, big guy. What are you, and how did you get here?” And why do you have so many cigarettes, you added mentally.

It chuckled and uncurled its long, serpentine tail that it rested over, smudging the butt on the desk in a divot made from being burnt.

“My name is Sebastian, and I was like you once. I was imprisoned under Urbanshade, and so I was subjected to whatever nefarious programs they had on the docket. The wheel landed on experimentation when I was being looked over, so they decided to attempt at giving me gills. It worked, but look at me,” it gestured dejectedly to its body, “I became this monster. I got so angry that I practically murdered the whole research team and fled down here. Now I just sit here and think about life and how to maybe go back up to the surface to have a normal one.”

As it had been talking, you had taken a seat beside it, the creature towering over you menacingly. While it didn’t attempt or appear to be threatening, you kept yourself on high alert. That is, until it made a proposition.

“Care for a smoke?”

OUGHHG FIRST PIECE OF PRESSURE FANFIC BAYBEE also these lovely dividers are by cafekitsune on tumblr! :3 i was drawing a pic of sebby in the gabe dress and it reminded me of a flapper so i gave him the long...cigarette...holder...thingie- ANYWAY here's the gist of it:

#pressure #sebastian pressure #sebastian solace #also can you tell that i like including the ddlc reference when i get the chance #mini fic #one shot

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hyunnieshannie · 2 years

Text

EX | HJ

Chapter 3: We'll be your new body guards

Pairing: Han Jisung x Fem. Reader

Word Count: 8,408

General Synopsis: Your ex? Shitty. Your family? Worse. Your best friend? Left for a tour in the middle of one of the worst times of your life. How are you meant to deal with planning what should have been your wedding, dealing with your family, and pretending like you're not falling apart all on your own?

General Warnings: Idol! Jisung, mentions of other Idols (P1Harmony/Seventeen), all views on these idols are purely fictional. Idol AU. Mentions of cheating, mentions of smoking and drug use (weed and cigarettes), Mentions of drinking, angst, self esteem issues, depression. Y/N is older than Jisung. (I'm sorry for the jokes that come out of this) (any tags I missed please feel free to let me know! More tags to be added as the story goes on.)

Chapter Warnings: SO MANY HURTFUL THINGS SAID IM SO SORRY, FIGHTING (nothing physical), there's just a lot to unpack.

→ A/N: God I am so unoriginal with names, sorry to the friends I threw into this... such a long chapter, I just HAD to get in that fight, and didn't realize how long it was oh my god. I hope you guys enjoy though!

PREVIOUS ꕀ❀ꕀ SERIES MASTER LIST ꕀ❀ꕀ NEXT

“Hey,” Jisung says as he opens the door gently, you stand there staring down at your shoes as he speaks, you feel slightly rude not looking at him as you mutter a pathetic ‘hello’ to him. The door swings open wider, granting you space to walk inside. Keeho walks in before you, carrying your suitcases, as you clutch your favorite stuffed animal. The familiar feeling of embarrassment nulls the rest of your senses. You hadn’t felt like this since your first time walking into Keeho’s home seven months ago, only this time it’s worse. This time instead of coming into a friend's home, someone you’d known for years; you’re walking into a home full of people you’d barely even met.

“It’s just until I get back,” Keeho whispers, as he gently nudges you forward. Hesitantly you walk in and observe your new living space. The house is nice so far, the living room is large and clean, and the kitchen is modern. There are stairs leading up just on the further side of the room, large windows spanned the far wall allowing for the orange colors of the setting sun to seep right in. Your bags are placed down with a thud, as Keeho straightens himself out, standing tall beside you. “Thanks, Ji. Seriously, this means a lot to us” he says. The unease of being in a new place is bearable but the thought of having to call this home for the next few months, doesn’t sit right. This isn’t home, not yours at least. A few voices sound from upstairs, muffled behind closed doors.

“No problem, honestly. Everyone’s happy to have her, and Min’s pretty excited to have another girl in the house.” Min? Another girl? Meeting Jisung’s other roommates was something you had prepared yourself for but there was never any mention of another girl living in the house, and the idea of that scared you. It wasn’t typically hard for you to get along with other women, but you’d surrounded yourself so much with the boys you’d almost forgotten what the company of a woman would be like, and Leah was hardly a good example of sisterhood among women.

“Ah, I’m sure she is; living with you guys must be rough. Can’t imagine how she’s survived.” Keeho laughs,

“mmm, “ Jisung hums, “She might actually be worse than the rest of us, you should hear her at night it’s-”

“Woah I don’t want to know!” Keeho blushes, clearly making a presumption about the end of Jisung’s sentence.

“Not like that you creep.” Jisung laughs, “She plays fucking league of legends, valorant, and shit she gets riled up screams at her teammates, honestly sometimes I wonder how Chan is the one with a banned account and not her, I mean her toxicity is way up there sometimes” he giggles as he turns to you, watching as you look around and take in the new environment. She’s toxic enough for Jisung to wonder why her online games haven’t banned her, you think to yourself, Fuck how am I even going to speak to her?

“She yelled at you, didn't she?” Keeho snickers as Jisung side eyes him,

“Yea- THAT’S NOT THE POINT KEEHO” Jisung whines, loud thumps come from upstairs making their way towards the stairs, the girl you could only assume Jisung yells out to him,

“ARE YOU STILL TALKING SHIT JI?” She yells, “I SWEAR TO GOD JISUNG THE NEXT TIME YOU INT ME IN A RANKED GAME, WILL BE THE LAST TIME WE DUO” She stares up at Jisung who turns to her un-phased, “And I’ll report you for inting. Maybe post on twitter how shit you are at Lea-” slowly her gaze falls on you, she quiets down quickly as her face flushes a bright shade of red, “Oh shit-” she mutters, “You’re here,” you smile up at the girl, her eyes still narrowed as she looks at Jisung, “You should have warned me you fucking moron,” She says before turning back around, “I’ll be right back!”

“Hey wait!” Jisung calls out, reaching out for her as if magically he’d be able to pull her from the stairs to the front door, “Where's your friend?” he asks, her face is dark from the hood she has pulled over her head and her expression is slightly unreadable,

“Why do you want to know?” she smirks,

“I just want to know if she’s staying for dinner or not.” He sighs, another person in the house, ‘It won’t be overwhelming Y/N’ ‘It’ll be fine Y/N’ Kee you liar.

“Why does it matter to you, you’re not the one that cooks in the house.” she smirks again, as Jisung looks up at her with eyes that silently tell her to ‘shut the fuck up’ she’s with Chan in his room anyway”

“WAIT JISUNGS COOKING?” More loud thuds come from upstairs, a door slamming open as someone leans over the railing, “WAIT YOU CAN COOK?” She laughs, “Who’d have known!”

“Shut it Maddy and go back to eating Chan’s face or something,” Jisung sighs, the girl laughs loudly as she walks away back into the room she came from,

“We’re just watching videos, you loser!”

“Sure you are!” he yells back,

“Don’t be mad ‘cause it aint you!” She yells back before the door slams shut, Jisung fakes a gag which earns him a pillow to the face thrown directly at him by the other girl who still stood on the stairs, quickly she turns back around and runs back up hiding herself in her hoodie and disappearing into the second level. A door shuts, and now you’re back to being with only Keeho and Jisung.

“Sorry,” Jisung mutters, “Maddy and Mini are something.” You give him a weak smile, you were told you’d just be meeting his roommates, you didn’t expect another girl, and NOW a friend of said girl, and Chan? “I’ll introduce you to Min, Hyunjin, and Changbin after you get settled,” you nod as he turns back to Keeho. “Have fun on tour,” he smiles widely, genuinely. Jisung brings Keeho into a hug, as he wishes him luck and fun on his adventure around the world. You stare up at Keeho wishing, for a moment he’d just take you with them; but you know that he can’t. That’s not how it works.

After a few more minutes of chatting, Keeho pulls you into a tight hug. “I’ll be back soon, Y/N/N” you sigh into his chest as he whispers to you that it’s only going to be a few months, that you can call him whenever, that even if he isn’t physically present; he’s still here for you. You know he is. You know he’d never leave you alone willingly and you know that you can talk to him whenever you want but it wasn’t that. It was still the idea of being with new people you barely know.

ꕀ❀ꕀ

“And that’s the entire first floor.” Jisung says as you slowly follow behind him, the first floor was mainly the kitchen, and a utility room connected to it. The living room being the centerpiece of the first floor. It had a small powder room, and a larger room filled with mixing equipment, microphones, and different instruments all crammed into it.

As he finishes showing you the last room, Chan makes his way down the stairs smiling warmly as he spots you, “Y/N,” he takes wide strides towards you as the other girl who’s voice you’d only heard follows closely behind him, “good to see you again,” he brings you into a tight hug; your body tenses up. Unsure as to why he’s even hugging you in the first place. He lets you go as the girl walks up slowly beside him, placing herself into the situation. Shit. You think to yourself, avoiding eye contact with her as you mumble a quick ‘you too’.

“Hi,” the girl says cheerfully, as she extends her hand; you take it cautiously hoping for her not to squeeze too tightly as a warning of coming near what seems to be her man. “I’m Maddy!”

“Y/N, nice to meet you,” your cheeks turn a light shade of rose, as you look at the ground. She holds your hand softly as she introduces herself.

“I should get going! But it was nice to meet you Y/N! Hope to see you again,” she smiles, waving goodbye; she wasn’t as bad as you had thought but still. What an uncomfortable way to meet someone. Chan quickly follows her to the door, leaning down to her height to give her a quick kiss goodbye. “Goodnight,” she smiles, before quickly changing from a sweet and soft voice to screaming up the stairs. “BYE MIN!!” She waits a moment, no answer. “Bitch probably can’t hear me over her game,” she giggles while opening the door, just as she walks out Jisung let’s out a loud sigh. “What Ji?”

“You hate me just say it,” he whimpers, truly looking at her like a kicked puppy.

“True” she laughs,

“Wow.”

“Shut up,” she continues giggling as she rushes over to give him a hug, he smiles at her embrace; letting her go as a car pulls up to the driveway, headlights beaming in through the windows. She rushes out the door, Chan who stands by it watches her until the very moment the car takes off.

“Sorry,” Jisung’s face shows clear signs of embarrassment, does he like Chan’s girlfriend? “Let’s get your stuff upstairs,” he goes to pick up one of your suitcases, but Chan beats him to it. Picking up both leaving Jisung to grab only the small backpack you had with you.

“I got it, you show her upstairs,” Chan walks in front of you, trudging up the stairs, muscles flexing as he carries the two heavy bags. Jisung motions with his arms, for you to follow Chan up as he follows behind. The stairs led to a smaller open area, with two hallways leading into multiple different rooms. A large clean shared bathroom in the middle of the hallways to the left.

“That’s Changbin, and Chan’s bathroom,” Jisung smiles. The three bedrooms in the hall all had their doors closed with names labeled above them. Chan, Bin, Han. They read. “We put those there for you, so you could find whoever you needed.” His voice indicated he was shy about mentioning how they’d thought of labeling themselves, all for your sake. He takes a quick right into the further hall, where three more doors sit closed. Chaos, Hyun, Mini & Y/N “I hope you don’t mind,” he whispers, “Mini said she’d share her room.” share her room. If you didn’t think you were already intruding, you definitely did now. Knowing you’d have to share a room.

“W-what’s the ‘chaos’ room?”

“Gaming mainly, it’s where Mini put her pc when she first moved in, from there we kind of just decided to let her have it. Chan put some sound boards up to try and muffle her screaming, it helps. A bit.” he laughs as he opens the room. The lights were off but the colors from the computer shone brightly throughout, pinks and purples, as the silent pc sat turned on. Two Monitors, displaying colorful moving backgrounds of animated characters. LED lights wrapped around the room, a camera connected to the PC by organized wires, a ring light sat tucked in a corner. The room is what you would expect out of one of those big streamers you often see on twitch or YouTube. The wall behind the large black and white chair had a nice backdrop, but the one behind the pc was covered to the max in posters, polaroid's, and light sticks hanging from command hooks.

“Is that a-”

“Photocard inside the pc?” Jisung laughs, “Yes, she says it gives her good luck in games.”

“She streams?”

“Sometimes, I think this is mainly stuff from her old place; she used to do a bunch of content on different sites but stopped recently.” he closes the door quietly, as Chan drops the bags in front of the door labeled Mini & Y/N. “I’ll go get her,” he smiles, walking towards Hyunjin’s door. He taps on it lightly, and someone rushes to open it. She opened it quickly, smiling as she walked out and closing it behind her. You can finally get a good look at the person you’d now be sharing a room with. Her name, Mini, was the opposite of her. She’s taller than both Chan and Jisung, with long hair split-dyed down the middle. Black and white, she wore a large black hoodie and a baggy pair of sweats. “Min, this is Y/N.” Jisung says, as she approaches you. “Y/N this is-”

“Mini, Moni, whatever works, sorry about earlier. I was expecting you later.” her voice is soft, but not high pitched, a calming mid range honestly. Jisung looks back to you, attempting to read your expression but you offer him nothing. Just a weak smile.

“Y/N, nice to meet you.” She smiles at you, bringing you into a tight hug.

“Be nice to have another girl around here,” She giggles,

“Yeah, as if you’re a girl.” Jisung snorts,

“Do you want to die now? Or should I smother you while you sleep?” She gives him a glare, and he quickly backs down. “Go take Hyune to the store. I planned dinner. He knows what to get. I’ll get her settled in because god knows you’re not going anywhere near my room.” Jisung nods as he walks towards Hyunjin’s room, looking back at you with caring eyes before slipping quickly into the room. Mini takes you inside her room. It’s nice, the same large windows spanned one wall, a large bed with a fluffy black duvet and matching pillows was centered against the furthest wall. The room is a light shade of blue, while most of her décor was white, a few paintings hung on her walls, and a study desk sat against the windowed wall. The closet was large, and the door to the washroom within the room was kept open. “It’s not much, everything else is in the other room-” she says nervously,

“No- It’s nice.” you say, she smiles weakly at you before laying one of your suitcases across the bed.

“I cleared out the closet the best I could for you-” she says as she opens the door, half of it empty with hangers waiting for your clothes to be placed, “and this is the washroom,” she walks over with you following. It was a nice size, for sure big enough for two. What you found most interesting was the shower, it was huge. The tub centered inside of it, honestly it looked like it had popped out of a ‘bathroom inspo’ Pinterest page. “This used to be the master bedroom.” she says softly, “Boys gave it to me expecting us to use it since-”

“Us?” You ask, you didn’t mean to let it out. Your mouth simply started before your brain could catch up,

“Mhm,” she hums, “Hyune and I”

“Ah so you’re Hyunjin’s girlfriend.” she nods, “Explains the photocard in your pc” you awkwardly laugh as you mention it, of course this was his girlfriend, what else should you have expected? She came out of his room, she had mentioned him already and let alone the photocard, it should have connected by now.

“You’re Keeho’s girlfriend right?” she asks, you could tell she’d been trying to find the right words, as she fiddled with her rings.

“No, just a childhood friend,” you say, it wasn’t the first time you’d been mistaken for being his girlfriend, people had assumed many times before. You two were just close, and it often led to misconceptions of how the two of you felt towards each other. You had never really considered it but if you looked deep down you knew all you felt from him was a platonic love, similar to the one you should feel towards siblings. “I get it all the time,” you assure her, as she looks at you as if she’d just offended your family, concerned.

“Fuck- Sorry I shouldn’t have assumed,”

“To be fair I assumed about you too-”

“Yeah but that’s a fair assumption,”

“So was yours,” the two of you laugh together, and hard. The first sign of life you’d given since arrival. Talking to her was awkward, but only because you didn’t know her; but as she warmed up to you, you warmed up to her as well. She quickly rushes to shut the door as Hyunjin’s swings open, Jisung’s voice booming loudly through the halls as he screams out they were off to the store, and that if anyone wanted anything to text them.

“Sorry he’s so fucking loud all the time-” she giggles.

ꕀ❀ꕀ

Mini helped you unpack as the two of you spoke, getting to know each other. You learned she’s a film student and that her favorite colors are black and red. She listened carefully to every detail you told her about yourself, and showed genuine interest in the things you liked. The fear of her slowly dissipated as the two of you talked and laughed. She seemed intimidating, a cold look to her when you’d first been introduced but as the hours passed, you came to see she was warm, like a summer breeze.

“Can I ask you something?” she says as she props herself up on the bed, you stare back at her as you finish hanging your last shirt,

“Shoot,”

“What’s it like being friends with Keeho, and his group?”

“I should be asking you that question, what’s it like being friends with Stray Kids?”

“Hell.” she mutters, “Jisung is so loud all the time, and he says I’M the one that yells?” you chuckle at her response, “All seriousness they’re great people, I’m lucky to have met Jeongin.”

“Jeongin?” she hums in response laying back down as she stares at the ceiling,

“I had a film study with this director for one of their videos. Great opportunity by the way. Anyways Jeongin was looking over some of his parts and he wasn’t too happy with his performance, nerves or something. I don’t remember how the conversation went, but as a film student I also had to take writing, and acting courses. You know; to create jobs when you don’t have one or something.” she sighs, “So we got to talking, I kind of said the basic first year acting class bullshit my teacher said, but he seemed so grateful. Next thing you know he was talking to me every time we were on set and he didn’t have scenes to film-”

“I swear this is starting to sound like a romance,”

“NO!” She laughs, “not at all, more like people with the same goal. He wanted to do well for the fans, and I wanted to make sure he did well for the fans. I wasn’t much help but- he was kind. The guys took notice that he’d be around me all the time, kinda reminded me of my little brother. Chan introduced himself first but after that I didn’t see them as often. Then get this-” she sits up excitedly, her eyes glistening as she recounts the memory. “I got an assistant job with the director, I did so well apparently that I was able to get a fucking job! Even after I changed my hair, my appearance, everything Jeongin remembered me the next time we saw each other like- a year and a half later!” she lets out a sound you can only register as something endearing, “he said, ‘Mini! You’re back! I can’t wait to show you my improvements!’ and he did so good. I was absolutely stunned, I mean he was talented before but this time around he was even better! The shoot went so well, they had invited a lot of the staff for a dinner after the video release! I spent most of the night with him, talking about film and photography. And he goes-” she clears her throat before mimicking Jeongin's voice “You need to meet Hyunnie~ Only he talks about that stuff the way you do, you’ll get along! And then boom, there I am arguing with him over which film camera is better for like an hour. While the rest of them laughed at us~” you could tell by her voice how excited she was, you could see in her eyes how much love she held for both Jeongin and Hyunjin. She groans as she looks at you, completely entranced by her answer, “I didn’t wanna talk about me,” she huffs, “Go on tell me your story!” you think to yourself about the first time you’d met Keeho,

“I mean I knew Kee, when he was Stephen” you giggle, walking back towards the bed and placing yourself on the opposite end of her, “Family friends, we grew up together, he’s basically a younger brother to me”

“No way you’re older than him!” she exclaims, almost shocked at the fact.

“Mhm, Then he came here. He’s been here longer than me but, when I moved in with him last year I felt like I was at home ya know?” she nods, “Three years I’ve been here and nothing felt more like home than being with him,”

“Five years? Wait you just said-”

“I lived with Kee for about seven months of those three years, I lived with J- an ex. But Kee was quick on taking me in when it failed, but I have known the other boys since debut mainly, they’re also hell.” you change the subject quickly avoiding talking more about your relationship, your failed one at that. “Kee, Intak and Taeyang are the ones I spend most of my time with, they’re like grown toddlers I swear to you.” she laughs at your response before agreeing with the statement, “Are all boys stupid?” you giggle,

“YES! Oh my god.” A soft knock at the door ends the conversation quickly, which to you came as a slight blessing. Your mind, though distracted for most of the evening, was slowly starting to revert to its thoughts of Leah and him.

“Hyune say’s dinner is ready,” Chan says softly as he opens the door, “Bin won’t be home till later, something about a plan you came up with?” Mini’s eyes widen as she leaps off the bed, standing quickly and rushing to the door, grabbing Chan by the shoulders before jumping up and down excitedly,

“HE DID IT, HE DID IT” she yells out, “HE FINALLY ASKED HER OUT!” She lets out a high pitched squeal as both you and Chan look at her confused.

ꕀ❀ꕀ

At dinner, Mini sat next to Chan, Hyunjin in front of her while you sat beside him. Jisung sat on the far end of the table as he scribbled down notes into a small journal. It was a nice dinner, and the conversation flowed. Mainly questions about yourself as everyone tried to get to know you a bit more, still the awkwardness of being around a new group of people persisted and to make everything worse, your phone buzzed non stop throughout all of it. The group had told you multiple times to answer, that it would be fine. Maybe it was Keeho checking up on you before his flight. You only had not checked because you were worried it’d come off as rude, so as clean up began you excused yourself to check the messages.

Call me ~Leaaah

y/n?~Leaaah

dude.~Leaaah

You’re supposed to be helping me where are youuu ~Leaaah

Keeho isn’t picking up, call me asap~Leaaah

Y/Nnnnnnnnnnnnnn~Leaaah

Girl if you don’t…~Leaaah

I’m gonna cry and send you a video if you don’t call me~Leaaah

Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N ~Leaaah

I HAVE AN IMPORTANT QUESTION ~Leaaah

UGH ~Leaaah

You sigh, as you look at the messages. Instantly a new one comes in.

FINALLY YOU READ MY MESSAGES, IM CALLING NOW~Leaaah

You really should turn off read receipts. The call comes in and you reluctantly answer it, it’d been two days of non stop messages; you’ve answered every question you could possibly think of so what now did she want?

“Y/n where have you been!” she sighs, instinctively you roll your eyes as her high pitched voice leaves a ringing in your ears. “Doesn’t matter anyways I have a favor to ask,”

“What is it?”

“Well it’s not really a favor, you’re my maid of honor so you have to do it, anyways I got my binder sorted out and I wanna go over some things with you, so we're meeting tomorrow at one pm.”

“Where?”

“Your place”

“No Leah, I can’t-”

“You HAVE to!” She cries out, you know that as her maid of honor you had a duty of going over the planning with her, being there for her through every step. Not only as her maid of honor but as her sister, but truthfully you weren’t ready to help plan what should have been your wedding. You remember day dreaming of the day he’d ask, you remember your little scrapbook of things you’d wish to have, one that never saw the light of day. One you kept tucked away in secret, the only person having seen it being her.

“Ok, I’ll figure it out. Just not here-”

“PERFECT TEXT ME THE ADDRESS” She yells before abruptly hanging up the call. You let out a loud sigh as you walk back into the living room, sitting down carefully on the couch where everyone else sat playing an intense game of Super Smash Brothers, Jisung on the other hand was nowhere to be seen.

“All good?” Mini asks, as she focuses on the screen in front of her, furiously smashing on the buttons of the control.

“Yeah, just my sister wanting to meet with me to plan her wedding.” you sigh,

“Oh congrats, that's great! When?” Chan says,

“Tomorrow, but I don’t know where to take her for it-”

“Just bring her here, the boys can lock themselves away in their rooms since they have the day off!” Mini smirks as she pushes Hyunjin off the platform in game, he grunts as he looks at her as if he’d been betrayed.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea-” “Should be fine, just us anyways and Jeongin but we’ll be upstairs mostly. I’ll make snacks” Hyunjin says, as he stands from the couch, stretching his long limbs out with a loud yawn.

“Oh- Okay,” you sigh.

ꕀ❀ꕀ

As you lay in Mini’s bed you stare into the ceiling, wondering if it was a good idea to invite Leah into a house that wasn’t even yours. Everyone had insisted that it was fine, but you knew Leah. She’d be distracted at the sight of them, she only knew a few of the boys of Seventeen well and often gawked at anyone remotely famous. Whether that be a tiktok person with a few thousand followers, or an actual celebrity you couldn’t help but think slightly ill of your sister. She’d always wanted to be someone, something more than what she was. She wanted fame, she wanted to be recognized. She wouldn’t go to any extremes to gain it, but she wanted it. Doesn’t everyone want to be more than they are? Doesn’t everyone wish for some sort of fame? That’s why you chose to go into college as a music major, was it not? To gain something? Some sort of relevance, in your irrelevant little life. Because isn’t everyone's life irrelevant if the world doesn’t know who you are? Sure, most of the songs you’d produced were sold off, you were merely a ghost writer, but it would be nice if someone told you how much they admired your music, it would be nice to be recognized for your work. The difference was that you worked for what you wanted, though nothing had come from it yet. Leah wanted it to come simply, Leah wanted to be noticed because she’s pretty, and ‘don’t pretty people become famous overnight?’. Yeah she had attempted her luck on tiktok, YouTube, and being one of those ‘Instagram’ models, but she offered nothing of substance.

Leah had no niche, she wasn’t funny in the eyes of the internet, nor did she create videos that were ‘captivating’ most if not all of the time she relied on her looks, lip syncing to songs hoping to become the next Bella Poarch or Addison Rae.

And, That’s just not how it works.

You tossed and turned the entire night, hoping Leah would be on her best behavior, and lightly thanking Mini for sleeping in Hyunjin’s room because by the way you were rolling about the bed, you’re sure you’d only keep her awake.

ꕀ❀ꕀ

“Mm, you sure you want me to stay? I can go bother Jeongin and Jisung upstairs..” Mini says as she sits upright on the couch, looking mostly uncomfortable.

“Yeah, Leah said she wanted to make girl friends so-” you trail off as the bell rings, you’re quick to open the door. Not even a hello leaves your sisters lips, she just simply walks in as if she owns the place. Walking right past you to admire the home,

“Cute~” She winks at you, “Oh HI! You must be the other girl!” she exclaims as she rushes to Mini who now looks even more uncomfortable. Leah brings her into a hug, as Mini gives you wide eyes, barely even touching your sister. She doesn’t like being touched on some days. You remember, and this was one of those days.

“Hi,” Mini says, “Monica, nice to meet you.” She had told you the night before how much she hated her name, how much she preferred Moni, or Mini over ever being called Monica so why would she introduce herself that way?

“So where is everyone else!” she yells out excitedly,

“Upstairs minding their own business” Mini laughs,

“Tell them to come say hi, if they’re going to be my sister's friends they should be mine too!” Of course, she doesn’t say hello and immediately asks to meet the people that even you, barely know. This was just how Leah is. The sound of a door creaking open, loud music finding its way down the hall, as footsteps sound near the stairs. Jisung casually strolls down, followed by Chan, Jeongin, Hyunjin, and Changbin. “Ee'' Leah lets out, “You must be the members of SKZ I've heard sooooo much about you!” Leah jumps, “My sister is obsessed with you guys!” Maybe it was in her tone, but you could swear she was trying to embarrass you in front of them, “Like literally obsessed, can’t believe she’s even functioning in front of you right now!” Jisung shoots you a concerned look, one that read ‘what is she saying’ you shrug at him, and he puts on a smile quickly,

“Oh thank god someone likes our music,” He laughs, “I was worried we’d be starving artists for life!” Leah is quick to laugh at his joke, “I’m Han.” he says extending a hand, Han. His introduction to her was different from the way he’d introduced himself to you. He was being professional.

“I.N,” Jeongin smiles, as he walks up to Mini placing a hand on her head which she immediately shakes off, as he smirks down at her.

“Bang Chan,”

“Changbin,”

“Hyunjin.” They were all, including Mini, being professional. As if speaking to a fan of the group and not your family member. They were being careful.

Something in Hyunjin’s body language seemed off. The night before he was relaxed, maybe it wasn’t your place to judge how he carried himself, and you don’t know him well enough to be able to read him but you do know that he’s tense. Giving Leah a side eye she seemed to miss. “Oh, Y/N” he says seemingly relaxing as he approaches you, “I added you to the group chat this morning for the house, we kind of just use it for whatever. Talking, and plans, all that stuff.”

“Ohh cute! A group chat, awe Y/N I wanna be in it!” Leah whines. Had you never noticed how Leah always managed to inject herself into situations that were clearly not meant for her? Have you always looked at your sister with loving eyes? Were you a terrible person for thinking she was looking for attention, from people she doesn’t know?

Hyunjin gives Mini a look, a look of ‘For what’.

His expressions are easy to read, his emotions clearly conveyed from a glance, as he faced Mini with his back towards Leah. Mini glances at Chan, who quickly speaks up.

“Hah, I mean it’s just a housemate thing, he says we talk but it's mainly grocery lists. You’d get bored of it, ya know?” nervously he looks at Leah whos nodding away agreeing with his statements,

“True, I would! You should see the group chat I have with my boys, gosh they’re so all over the place, honestly it’s best for me to not join another!” bragging. She’s either bragging, or playing off the fact she was denied something she wanted.

“Anyways we came down because we were gonna get some snacks so- we’ll be off” Changbin says as Jeongin walks back carrying a bowl full of packaged snacks, Hyunjin reaches for one of the packages before immediately getting scolded by Jeongin,

“HEY!” he huffs, “What would Seungmin say,” Hyunjin rolls his eyes before snatching the snack and racing up the stairs,

“What he doesn’t see, he can’t nag me for!” he laughs, as the rest of them chase him down.

“Awe, he’s such a cutie” Leah giggles, causing Mini to sit up.

“He is, honestly I let him get away with way too much because of that face” She giggles, “Remind me to call Seungminnie to snitch on him later Y/N,'' you nod “Seriously Y/N don’t let me forget, even if he threatens to break up with me don’t let me give in to those puppy dog eyes he’ll give me later!” You laugh at the comment as she eases the mood, while drawing a line that she in fact was Hyunjin’s girlfriend. Engaged or not, she wasn’t going to let the hopeful look in Leah’s eyes slide.

“Anyways, look what I found!” Leah dismisses the comments made, sitting down comfortably on the couch as she leans over the coffee table, rummaging through her bag and pulling out a blush pink binder, then slowly pulling out a smaller green scrapbook. Your scrapbook. “I found it in a box at the house!” she smiles, “Ugh, it’s been so long since we looked at it!” she pushes it towards you.

You shake as you take the book, “I’d rather not open this Leah,” you softly say,

“Oh please Y/N you had such cute ideas!” Leah says as she snatches the book, prying it open to the first page. Themes. Mini watches you carefully, mentally noting how your demeanor had changed since Leah had walked in. “Ah a forest theme! So cute!” she cries out, “We’re thinking of Jeju!”

“Jeju is nice,” Mini says,

“RIGHT!” Mini only hums, still watching as Leah flips through the pages carelessly. You stare down at your hands. Please stop. You begged internally. “Oh, so Y/N” you look back up at her, the scrapbook now closed. “I booked my appointment to try on dresses!”

“Oh fantastic, show me what you looked at.” You force a smile, as she pulls her binder out. Opening it to the dresses tab. Your heart stops for a moment. The page you had created of dresses was cut up and plastered all over the place, and the gorgeous dress you had admired lay centered on the page. You remember the day you had first seen it, then and there you had decided that that was the dress for you. That was your dream dress. You studied it, praying to find some sort of difference, praying that it was some sort of similar dress, that it wasn’t the one you’d day dreamed of wearing for years.

“Hope you don’t mind, but I saw that and I fell in love,” Leah smirks,

“What are you doing?” your voice is flat, as you stare at her. Whatever game she was playing at, you were over.

“What do you mean?” she says with a pout,

“Listen, I'm not feeling well. Let's do this some other time.” you say as you stand from your spot on the floor. It wasn't a lie, seeing the dress you dreamed of lay in front of you, knowing she would be trying it on made you sick to your stomach. You thought you could do okay, you thought you’d be fine helping her, but clearly you were wrong. Nausea begins to overwhelm you, and you feel your heart race as your body threatens to puke up every negative thought, every memory, every single little detail that made your stomach churn.

“Common Y/N don’t be like that,” Leah sighs as she leans back on the couch, Mini still watching everything unfold. Her body tensing up as if she felt the earthquake before it hit, the tsunami of emotions that was bound to flood the room. “I know you loved it, but.” There’s always a butt before the bullshit. “It would be a waste not to see it. I know you wanted this to be your dress, but I can’t stop my heart from loving what I love, it would go to good use. It will finally be seen because at least one of us is getting married, also for the party. Can you invite those girls from Keeho’s company for me? He didn't answer so I assumed he’s just busy. Maybe Moni can invite people from her boy's company too!” Mini flinches at the last words, looking at Leah with a disgusted face, and you. You’re unsure if you want to cry or scream.

“About the dress Leah. Not today, I can’t do this.” you sigh, “And I can’t just invite random idols to a party for someone they don’t know. I'm sorry.”

“You have to.”

“Leah, we’re not doing this today please.” you were desperate for an out, you couldn’t stand sitting here planning your dream wedding for her, you couldn’t sit there watching her admire your dress. You couldn’t do it. Not today.

“You’re fucking pathetic.” Leah mutters, as she stares daggers into you. “I can’t believe you.”

“What.”

“Over a fucking dress.” you sighs,

“It’s not really about the dress, Le-”

“You said you were over it.” she snaps, her anger shining through. The entire time she’d been here she’d been nothing but rude, and now she has the audacity to be mad at you?

“Leah, we’re not doing this.”

“Fucking. Pathetic, like I said.” Leah scoffs, “No wonder Keeho sent you here, I’m sure he was hyped to get rid of you and your pessimistic ass!” she shouts. Causing enough of a commotion for the boys to come quietly down the stairs to figure out what the yelling was about. “This is why Jeonghan left you,” she mutters, “Because you can’t see any good in anything, I don’t fucking know how anyone does it. Dealing with you, you’ve been nothing but sour ever since you found out. Couldn’t even stay the whole time during the engagement party. How the fuck do you do it Monica? How do you deal with her fucking depressed ass?” Mini doesn’t know, Leah please stop. You cry out, but words don’t form. You look at your little sister, tears filling your eyes, anger boiling at a dangerous heat within you, threatening to overflow.

“Do not speak to me.” Mini says a little too calmly. “Do not speak to your sister like that, and certainly do not speak on behalf of Keeho. We all know why she’s here. It has nothing to do with you, or her. Apologize, please.”

“Why should I!” she screams,

“Because you are in my home, and I will not tolerate this shit.” Mini says,

“YOUR Home? This is Bang Chans home, Changbin’s home, Han’s home, Hyunjin’s home.” Leah laughs, “you’re just like her,” she says as she points to you, “Living off your idol boyfriend.” the venom in Leah’s words stung, and everyone in the room could tell. Hyunjin quickly making his way to Mini as she stands there trying to calm her breathing.

“Don’t fucking speak to her like that.” Hyunjin interjects,

“Get out.” you mutter,

“I’m not fucking wrong! You lived off Jeonghan for so long you fucking pa-”

“We’re done here.” Chan says, as he demands the rooms attention. “Listen, we invited you into our home to allow you to plan your wedding. Not fight with Monica, or insult your sister.”

“You don’t know me.” Leah laughs, “Who the fuck are you to-”

“Even more reason for you to leave.” Chan responds, not letting her finish her sentence. Jisung makes his way to the table, gathering Leah's things and quickly throwing them on the table closest to the door.

“This is a joke right?” Leah scoffs, your fists clench as you watch her continue her fit “You’re gonna defend her when she’s the one who came onto me first?”

“Refusing to invite random idols who have no idea who you are to a party that has nothing to do with them isn’t coming to you, and neither is being uncomfortable about the fact you’ve decided to just use the dress she had planned out.” Mini laughs, “Delusional much? Like why would you need idols at it anyways don’t you have your own friends?”

“I do but she has more connections, I want my day to be special as would anyone!” a gross excuse.

“You’re not entitled to Y/N’s friend circle.” Changbin says, his brows furrowed as he speaks. His chest, puffing up ready to defend you, even though he doesn’t even know you.

“Truth be told,” Jisung says, “The way you’re reacting right now is over the top. Did you really want Y/N’s help or were you hoping to use her for her connections?” Leah stands quickly from the couch, wide eyed as she stares of Jisung who’s now made his way in front of you, blocking her view of you as your tears begin to fall.

“You’re all pathetic.” Leah mutters, “All of you. A joke. What did I expect out a group no one even likes.” she laughs as she runs her hand through her hair. “And you Monica, enjoy him sticking up for you while it lasts, I mean learn by example; look at how Y/N ended up. He’ll find someone better than whatever the fuck you are.”

“Leah sto-” you begin standing up, tears falling leaving streaks of mascara down your face. How fucking embarrassing. For her to do this in front of them. In Front of people you're barely getting used to. You lightly push Jisung out of the way only to be cut off by Mini, her hand stretched out across you as she walks in front of you placing herself beside Jisung.

“Y/N.” She says lightly, “It’s fine. Go to our room and breathe,” she whispers. Mini turns, now completely facing off with Leah. Mini was the complete opposite of her nickname. She stood tall, her stance intimidated even you who she was defending.

You storm up the stairs into your shared room. Your heart pounding as she calmly told Leah to leave, letting her know if she refused that she would remove her, herself. Leah’s shouting only grew louder, until you heard Chan’s voice raise for the first time ever. The door slammed shut, and a few minutes of silence passed before Mini made her way into the room. Shutting the door behind her, she sat carefully on the bed as you tried your best to calm down.

“I want to go home,” you sob, “But Keeho and his stupid fucking company, and-”

“You know, Y/N I may be over stepping here but,” Mini says as she looks at you, her body language indicating she was about to say something that made her uncomfortable, “Before I met Hyunnie, I was in a similar situation. I mean he didn’t ask my sister to marry him but he did some really messed up things,” she pauses hoping you wouldn’t yell at her for crossing a boundary. “What I’m saying is, I know it hurts right now but don’t blame Keeho for sending you here. What she said wasn’t true. He wasn’t getting rid of you, he just wants to make sure you have some support while he’s gone. We may still be very new to you, but I consider you a friend already. We all do. Even Jeongin, and he only met you a few hours ago.”

You look at her teary eyed, as she speaks. You’re afraid she’ll tell you not to cry over it anymore, that she’d tell you that you were being dramatic about the situation. You wouldn’t be surprised if she did, because your entire family had said it. ‘You can’t control who people fall in love with, you’ll get over it, don't be dramatic Y/N’

“Cry it out.” Mini says, “Scream if you have to, none of them will mind. You've been so strong for so long, you’ve been keeping your actual thoughts in for so long Y/N. So scream, let it all out. Get. Angry.” you look at her shocked, you expected something else but here she was telling you to get angry, to get everything out of your system. All the pent up anger, the hurt, all of it. And you did, it all came out at full force, all at once as you screamed and cried loudly for the whole house to hear, and possibly the neighbors a few houses down. She simply hugged you, letting you bawl into her chest as she played with your hair. Ten minutes. Ten minutes of screaming, ten minutes of crying and cursing the world for the injustices you’ve faced. That’s all it took for you to feel just a little bit better.

A soft knock on the door made you straighten up and wiper your tears, Hyunjin walks in followed by Jeongin, Chan, Changbin and Jisung who held a cup of water, Jeongin carrying his bowl of snacks. Jisung handed you the water carefully, as you weakly smile up at him.

“Sorry,” you mumble as you take a sip of the cool water.

“It’s fine, we’re used to it. All of us do it, thanks to a certain someone” Jisung says as he motions with his head towards Mini,

“Sometimes, you just got to get all that energy out into the world. Why bury it within yourself? It only hurts more to bottle it up.” Mini sighs, “I used to do it a lot. Like I said, they’re used to it.” You look down at your hands while Jisung crouches in front of you.

“Feel better though?” He asks, you nod. The bed shifts as the other four boys sit on Mini’s bed. You watch Hyunjin cradle Mini who is now sitting in a ball up against him, Chan, Changbin and Jeongin sit silently.

“You guys are cute,” you whisper.

“Ew. now i want to die” Mini says as she quickly gets off Hyunjin, he gasps in offense.

“As if you didn’t want to already,” Jeongin jokes,

“First off, fuck you. Secondly go fuck yourself,” Mini hisses,

“Well, which is it Mini? Do you want to fuck or should I go jer-”

“You’re disgusting you fucking perv.” she snaps, “Your hand deserves so much better than you!”

“Could say the same about Hyu-”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll fucking bleach your brows in your sleep.”

“NO WAIT NOT AGAIN” He yells in panic as Chan and Changbin laugh so hard they throw themselves back, almost falling off the bed.

You had forgotten you were crying now, laughing as hard as you witnessed the people around you. Hyunjin and Mini, Chan and Changbin, Jeongin, and Jisung who had moved his hand to yours and was now rubbing circles on the top of your hand with his thumb. Six new people, who like Keeho, somehow managed to make you feel a bit better about everything.

“Thanks, all of you.” you whisper,

“For?” Changbin asks,

“Everything. Letting me stay here, and especially what happened just now. I means alot.”

“You’re a part of us now Y/N.” Chan says, “We wouldn’t let it slide for anyone, but especially not you.”

“We care about you,” Hyunjin smiles sweetly as he sits up, “Wasn’t the first time we had to do it either, I remember when we had to go off on Mini’s dad.”

“Yo fuck that guy.” Changbin huffs,

“Ay, don’t turn this around on me Hyunnie. Also true but still.” Mini sighs, “Like I said, we might still not really know each other but you’re our friend now Y/N, sorry but you’re stuck with us now!”

“Until the others come home, we’ll be your new body guards,” Jisung jokes, as he references how Taeyang, Intak, and Keeho gave themselves the title. “Specifically Mini tho, that bitch is like a rabid animal when she’s angry.”

“She gets angry?” You asked, from the looks of everything that happened she was the calmest one there.

“Unfortunately,” Hyunjin sighs, shuddering at whatever memory popped into his head. The others laugh as Hyunjin makes a worried face. Their laughs are contagious. Their energy. Is contagious. If the energy this group of people carried were a sickness, people would never want to find a cure. You laugh alongside them as Mini hits Hyunjin with a pillow, defending herself saying she only gets angry at games. They’re a family. I can trust them. You think to yourself as you watch Jeongin and Changbin try to protect Hyunjin from the assault. As Chan yelled out that he’d call for backup, pulling out his phone to call the other members, as you laughed loudly with the rest of them; as Jisung admired your smile.

Tag List: @g4m3girl @channiesbub@dugarzaddy@fairywriter-oracle@skzloveforever Thank you for letting me tag you <3

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