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samodivaa · 6 months ago

Text

permeated by jealously

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Summary: In your tight-fitting red dress, you look ravishing for the date with a Russian guy—but the moment you retort to Bucky in Russian, it begs to be ripped from your body.

Warnings: smut, angst, kitchen sex, rough/possessive, unprotected p in v, miscommunication Words: 4k

Bucky's veins are full of the serum, but at this moment, they are full with belladonna tincture, the substance of jealousy. Seeing you with another man, he speaks of Love in the past tense. The scene that plays in front of him—that guy coming to pick you up from the compound, is perfectly adapted to a temporal phenomenon: distinct, abrupt, framed, already a memory. For a split second you stare at each other, you smile at him ruefully. A fleeting, lasting moment for Bucky. Why do you even notice him? Seeing you happy, gives mixed colors to the air of the moment—he is lost in time, sleeping being his only lover.

Bucky wants to kiss you. Instead he puts his lips on the tumbler glass, pretending that it is you. His t-shirt is unbuttoned at the top, and he runs a hand through his hair before he puts the glass down on the kitchen counter—flashes of you in that dress that you wear for your date and the way it lifts your body up from a single look races through his head.

His cock jerks and he shakes his head, grinning as he stares down the bottle of vodka next to his cup.

And, for the first time in his innocent and confined life, he senses in himself a potential for a different corruption that takes his breath away. He doesn’t blame himself. He is a curious, wanting thing—finally, enlightened and free, but also lustful and carnal. But It stabs at him, almost like a physical pain, and he feels both deprived and angry, deprived because Bucky wishes to be with you and angry, because his own choices causes him misery. ----- “It is almost like a reverse nightmare, like when you wake up from a nightmare, you're so relieved. I just wake up into another nightmare."

"And what is that nightmare, Bucky?" He keeps his blue, lusterless eyes fixed on Natasha with a calm but warm and kindly expression in them as he thinks how to say it "My love life” “Maybe you need to ask her on a date, that’s what Vladimir does”

“Vladimir? Oh , so it is not just 'that one guy' anymore?” he says in a quiet voice, without a trace of irritation, with a note of the simplest curiosity, his lips quivering as a forced smile comes on to his face. Nat momentarily startles. Then she starts to laugh. “You’re jealous of him?”

He clenches his jaw. “I’m not jealous,” a note of personal affront creeps into his voice “I don’t like his name” ----- You are on a date, having fun—but anxiety grabs his mind, it is self-perpetuating. Worrisome thoughts reproduce faster than rabbits, he is trying not to lose his balance. Not yet. Especially when the jealousy sets in.

Bucky is conscious every moment in himself of many, many elements positively swarming in him, ah these, opposite elements. He knows that they have been swarming in him since you started going out with Vladimir and they are craving some outlet from him, but he doesn't let them, would not let them, purposely would not let them come out, because he believes there is nothing so self-destroying, and so despicable, as his jealousy. He tries to appear as a hard shell on the outside when you finally enter the kitchen at 1 am—while there is a runny mess on the inside as he tenses, waiting for you to say something, anything. When you near the sink, your fingers find the curve of the faucet, the metal cool beneath the touch. He turns around to lean against the counter as you pour a cup of cold water. Bucky stares hard at you, watching you take a long drink then he follows the flick of your tongue over your bottom lip. His heart stumbles a beat. He is in such an irritated frame of mind, because of your quietness that in rude and abrupt fashion he blurts out the words: “You must love that dress”

He takes time persing down the length of your body as you take a step back, watching you press against the counter and then back up before locking on your eyes again. You are not wearing a bra and your nipples harden from having his eyes on you. Red, the front needlessly too scandalous—at least for Bucky. The dipping v lets him see the swelled sides of your breasts pushed up and together. Just to be sure, though, a golden necklace with a teardrop pearl at the end, letting it trail just over your cleavage.

“I didn’t know that you notice what I am wearing when I go out”

You answer, trying to look as innocent as possible. The vindictive smile that stretches on your ruined lipstick sends shivers down Bucky’s spine—did you make out with the guy, maybe more than that? You look beautiful sitting there looking at him like a she-cat. All he has to do is look at you, and he lusts. He wants to take off that delectable dress and make love to you until you don't have the energy to go out with anyone else ever again.

“You’ve worn it for the second time. For your date.”

His gaze drops from your eyes, to the swell of your chest. Your chest tightens and you bite your lip to hide the grin wanting to escape. You notice the disgust written on his face and you laugh coldly, gaze never leaving his buff frame. With the certainty that you have well and truly punished him for not asking you on a single date. The angry, feral part of you feels so close to the surface that you can almost scent its blood-clotted fur. You want to lick the scratches you’ve made on him. You want to scratch him until he breaks apart. You gulp down the rest of your water to ease the heat flaming across your skin. Then you lick your lips. His gaze tracks the movement. You think you stopped breathing.

“His name is Vlad”

An audacious expression plasters on his face as you sigh in irritation at Bucky, rolling your eyes. Bucky is still leaning against the counter and rests his metal hand on the countertop while sipping vodka from the mug in his other hand. A beautiful yet deadly ornament—vibranium has no business being as hot as it is on him.

A note of personal affront creeps into his voice “Vladimir, mhm”

“What else have you noticed about me?” your grin becomes a touch leery, innocently cocking your head to the side.

“Try me” he says softly.

“Favorite color?” you ask, interrogatively.

He chuckles “Red”

“Favorite quote?”

Your brows lift, anticipation making your nerves sing. You are not sure what he is about to say, but you have the feeling that it will be the right one, your heart leaps at the thought.

“Much unhappiness has come into the world because of bewilderment and things left unsaid” he answers, this time winking at you “I know everything about you, sweetheart” he adds and you feel like smacking that stupid grin off his face.

His mind works well when it comes to his work as an avenger, hovering on hummingbird wings, but when it comes to you, especially when you purposely play with his jealousy, It finds a way to push through any seal of his mind, his expressions are always an array of masks he uses to cover it up his emotions—but now, it is all over his face, pure surrender, because he is affected and you can tell, he is staring impudently at you, awning for your response.

“I prefer kotyonok. Vlad says that cognac and wine is all for the heart and that vodka is for the soul. If it's hurting real bad and you’ve never had vodka before”

His brows lift, because this does surprise him and his stomach tightens at that particular Russian word. His mouth curls into a small snarl at the thought of that stupid man calling you that. A pang of jealousy surges through him. The bad kind. The kind of longing that makes him wonder that there must be a natural comorbidity between sexual appetite and sexual jealousy, between the desire to fuck and the desire to kill. He clears his throat, his face souring before his mocking tone grates:

“Looks like you know a thing or two about me, too”

He is trying to not be overcome by emotion. Emotion is the art of breaking hearts, minds, and tongues―but jealousy is too much, even for Bucky. He settles back into himself, shaking whatever momentary emotion flitted over his face and replacing it with a confident aura that screams laid back and in control as he cages you to the counter, his flesh hand still holding his half full cup. Your throat gurgles slightly, looking at the bigger frame towering you through your lashes like the starved woman you are. You are overwhelmed by his bold move, leaving you both speechless and breathless, but even then it is important to identify the correct emotion here—lust, a longing that goes on a loop. You try to ignore his hard cock pressing against your thigh, your attention remains on his face. You feel drunk without a drink, your nerves tighten, making your muscles clench―this is going exactly how you want. You want him to kiss you. But you make sure to keep your facial features mundane and level. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to think you have a crush on me, Bucky” You also ignore the annoying, visible blush on your cheeks, he must have noticed it because his expression goes grim for a second before a surprised laugh almost breaks free from his lips, responding only by a clink of his tumbler against yours. Judging by the rumble that vibrates in his chest, he likes your reaction, though the noise ends on a cynical note. His blue eyes drop to your mouth, warmth pours through your body and you moisturize your lips as he presses his knee between your legs. Right against your clit—you breathe out, a wave of pleasure sliding down your spine while Bucky just tips his glass back the last of vodka, allowing the burn to sear his throat and warm his stomach—while casually grinding his leg slowly against you, creating a sensation that has heat winding through your core and shooting down your legs. “Na zdorovie” (cheers) You smile venomously with a kind of joyous sigh, your arrogance in this moment makes you feel very confident. Up to this moment possessiveness has not been that much of a torment, now it suddenly gnaws at his heart. As in slow motion, he pulls back to put both glasses on the counter. He realizes that you do something to him. Every time. It’s your only detriment this past month. To step on his heart—to test his feelings for you, and his jealousy already has made him erupt like a volcano. He has never been jealous before he met you. It burns. Some nights, watching you go with other men on missions, even that drives him mad.

“You and that fucking mouth, kotyonok” His voice sounds ill-natured, bitter, politeness that would only be laughed at, restraining an unruly nature, wary of the ways that you are trying to provoke him, but his tone shifts at the last word. Voice warm and low. Intimate. You like it this way. You like the way it sounds and it makes you gasp. “You like this, don’t you, pretty girl?” Your character has absolutely changed. It is an entirely new and hitherto unknown being who now stands and stares at him somewhat lovingly. There is evidently, he concludes, something at work here, some storm of the mind, some paroxysm of emotion which he won’t question. When you say nothing, his hands move to your waist, his vision already blurring. His bones fill up with foam, a languid fear, and a terrible desire. You let out a deep breath and can’t deny the strange elation you feel when you feel his hands, needing more of it, of his touch. Your pussy contracts as his hands reach around, gripping a handful of your ass, forcing you harder against his both body and leg. The grip is both bruising and possessive, controlling every movement. “Oh, god-” You open your mouth, and Bucky dips down, catching the moan with his tongue. Satisfaction sparks in his irises and he tilts his head and keeps watching you with those fucking lethal eyes of his. Bucky gives a small grin, a fake one. The type that shows no teeth and barely lifts at the corners. You feel a very small spark to your ego, knowing you are getting a rise out of him. But all of the playfulness in the air drowns beneath the intensity of his thousand shades of blue dancing in his eyes as if he is peeling back your mental layers, his eyes looking down watching the bare length of thigh that shows through the slit in your dress.

“You and these dresses” he groans. Whether you want to admit it or not, physically, this man affects you more than anyone else ever has, and that causes panic to percolate through every nerve, you feel like you are losing control, but you don’t mind it. You feel vulnerable, exposed, almost at his mercy at this point. Jealousy isn't a pleasant quality, but his jealousy is combined with modesty and there's even something touching about the filthy words coming out of his mouth. He wants you—and finally, he is not afraid to both tell and show it.

“Ya ne mogu vyrazit', kak sil'no ty menya zavodish'” (I can’t explain to you how much you turn me on) Your lips part and you swallow audibly while he has the most delicious visual of his dick slipping between them, your eyes staring up at him in surprise and that sweet tongue running along the shaft. He surges forward, your face is an inch from his when you breathe out, he breaths in before crossing the final, tiny gap and pressing his lips to yours. It is not a sweet kiss. It is hard, demanding, and possessive, borne out of weeks of pent-up frustration and tension. His mouth is hungry and insistent, his tongue probing your lips, asking for greater intimacy. You grant it, tongues swirling together, yours follow his when it retreats and tasting his in return. When he finally pulls back, he rests his hands on your hips, and stares into your eyes for a minute.

“Tvoy zapakh s uma menya svodit” (your scent drives me crazy)

He speaks without haste, controlling himself so well, yet there is something in his voice, determined and euphoric, resentful and insolently defiant. Passion smolders in his eyes as he traces the line of your clavicle with his index flesh finger, pausing for only a fraction of a second. And then you become aware of all the magnificent silk wrapping around your body, you have the feeling that you might drown in his eyes, his two drops of winter rain. “I would love to make love to you, but not tonight” He studies your face, pleading silently for your approval, searching for the smallest sign, the slightest movement of your brow, the vaguest reddening of your cheeks, the surprise of your eyes. At that moment, your soul clenches as well as your pussy. The hard dick still pressing into you distracts you from replying. You can feel your panties dampening. And your nipples are suddenly incredibly sensitive, aching as they pucker against the material of your dress. Your chest warms, desire winding like a rope around your core. You think you like Bucky this way. A smile shows on your face. This would be invisible to any, but the closest scrutiny—Bucky has noticed it and taken it for his sign. Then he leans forward and presses his lips once more, his sugar roughness, his possessiveness is what you need to finally feel. “What did you do when you went out?” “We had a few drinks. We danced.” you reply, thinking it best to speak the truth at once. His lip quivers slightly, forcing himself to seem calm, but Bucky’s eyes are sparkling irefully, there is no doubt in his expression the full success of your endeavors to make him even more detested. “You danced with him?” he asks, with sudden vivacity. “Well, he is my date” You murmur, trying to smooth away all disquietude on the subject, you sense a physical weakness by the violent, unequal throbbing of your own heart, which beats visibly and audibly under the excess of agitation—but before you can even manage to open your mouth again, his metal fingers grab the front of your gown and pull it until it tears, no matter how beautiful, it was meant for another man—perfect breast on display just for him, his cock pulses at the sight. His touch tickles you on his way up to your boobs, skirting over your ribs before fully cupping them in his palms. “Tony’s rules include no sex in the common areas” “Fuck the rules” he grits out, more animal than you have ever heard from a human. And then he gives you a smile that just seems so genuinely sweet—with the filthy touch of his hands, that unexpected warmth rushes through you. His thumbs run over the hardened peaks, making you moan and his dick is so stiff that he is worried that he might come. “Ty moya” he says coolly. (you are mine)

He leans in, his voice a rumble in your ear. “Moy kotyonok” (my kitten)

Bucky moves, gripping the meat of your thighs before he spins you harshly around and bends you over the counter. Your walls are squelching around nothing as you feel him pull back, murmuring something in Russian, it is sinful—and pleasurable, drawing a muffled whimper from your mouth as you hear him tear apart your panties. You lick your lips, trying to quench the thirst for him. Your throat is dry as you hear his belt clattering noisily as he unbuckles it, popping the buttons of his jeans open, followed by the low purr of his zipper coming undone, he drifts his hands down his sides and hooks both thumbs into his jeans, sliding them and the boxers down his legs before pressing his body against yours until every inch of him melds into you one more. Bucky’s metal hand grips your chin and forces your head back while the other closes around your throat as his cock presses against you—chills slide up your spine, arousal sending a shot of adrenaline through your center as you feel pre-cum on your naval. Fuck, he is huge. There is a certain satisfaction in manhandling you into this position, the flesh arm tightens around your nape, holding you close to him.

"How about we make a deal? You wear dresses for me and I take you out on dates?” He rambles against your ear, tongue slipping out to taste you, just a little bit. His cock nudges around your ass cheeks, to your sleek mound until he gasps as he guides his sticky cockhead with his metal hand, gliding through your delicate folds and returning his cold grasp around your chin. He doesn’t say anything as he slips inside you with ease, your wetness sucking him in, making it easy for him to thrust into you until he buries himself to the hilt. “Fuck, you feel good”

Bucky moans quietly as his eyes close, focusing on feeling your cunt wrapping around his dick for the first time. His lips stay silent, but he chatters with his fingertips, with the way his hands hold, the way he fucks you. You want to see his face, but you can only imagine how perfect he looks.

His expression is dreamy, floating. Soaked in pleasure—breathless, possessed, lost in the volcanic eruptions of fever, lust and delight. Your pussy cradles around his dick as he pounds into you from behind. It is an igniting feeling to have so much control over your body. It is sick and twisted, he has long learned to run from what he feels and wants, that's why he has nightmares. To deny is to invite madness. To accept is to control. And he needs to take control over something for once in his life. You. He has lost control over everything, even the places in his head. When your moans become too loud, his hand closes around your neck, slowly cutting into your skin while cutting off oxygen. It is more painful than lethal, but more erotic than painful. His growls erupt from his chest, the primal noise flooding your senses, making your insides clench around his length.

“Come for me, drench my dick”

He whispers, fucking his cock against your cervix. He nibbles at your earlobe, loving the sharp intake of your breath as you struggle to breathe. Jealousy…teeth dragging against your skin, living marks. The primal lust, the sheer need to claim you, quickly finding ways to express his sacred hunger to you in animal passion. He snarls out gluttonous groans against your skin as you clench and seize, pounding you harder as your body contracts. Pleasure breaks out like a wildfire, reaching around your temples, shooting up and down your spine as his thrusts never falter, his mouth hangs open with bliss, his cock plunging into you with skin-slapping speed and he finally reaches his orgasm, cock spurting a thick dollop of cum with each throb.

Lust is the best of all the deadly sins, you realize as he pulls out and helps you go back on your shaky feet. It all happened too fast. You only wanted a kiss. You push his chest like you want him off of you, but your fingers have Bucky’s shirt clutched in them and he knows you are full of shit. You want him.

“I wish I could say I felt guilty for what I did. I don't.” The timbre of his voice goes into that low register that makes your insides curl in on themselves. You want that tongue to swipe your sex like licking the frosting off a cupcake. It is the sexual chemistry you want more of. It is electric. But guilt sets in. You are feeling torn between your commitment to building a relationship with Vlad while engaging with Bucky, in a way it feels like cheating. A part of you is hoping someone from the team would wake up and catch you, so you wouldn't have to live with this lie. But no one wakes up and in the silence that follows, you understand the nature of your new curse: you are going to get away with it. Your silence hurts him, his mouth tightens. But there are some wounds that he can heal only by deepening them and making them worse. And yet, sometimes facts are no more than pitiful consequences, Bucky knows how the public will perceive you if you are dating the former Winter Soldier. Seeing you standing there unresponsive makes him realize that silence has a sound—he knows that you regret sleeping with him. You are the people's favorite Avenger, the one everyone look up to with admiration and reverence—he is sure that you are thinking about it, but he understands. The blue moons in his eyes are glimmering with an emotion you can’t put his finger on—and he should be sad, but instead, he feels nothing. He feels a lot of nothing these days. He is empty, as if whatever makes him feel and hurt and laugh and love has been surgically removed, leaving him hollowed out like a shell. This is for your happy ever after, Vlad might be a stupid Russian, but he is at the very core of his existence—a real human. He turns around and paces the room, as if he can leave his regret, you, behind. But it cracks you as you see him walk away, leaving you naked like an ugly shadow made by himself. You have mistaken his lust for love. Regret. It turns into anger, into hatred. And where there is anger there is always pain underneath. You eventually come to understand that in harboring the anger, the bitterness and resentment towards Bucky who has hurt you, you are giving the reins of control over to him—maybe It’s time to finally say “yes” to being Vlad’s girlfriend.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky imagine #bucky x female reader #x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #winter soldier

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spaghettiposts · 1 year ago

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Unspoken Truths

Summery: You and Wanda have been friends for years, but never once has she showed up at your doorstep in this state. Pregnant, alone, and hurt. You take her in and you both dive into the difficulties of pregnancy, and hiding feelings.

Warnings: Pregnancy, Dickhead Vision, Friends to lovers, Attempts at comedy, Reader being a sweetheart like always, Mutual Pinning, Faint talks of Abortion, talks of nausea and vomiting.

Words: 4k

There was a knock at the door. Which was weird since it was- what time was it?

Your arm reached for your phone resting on the bedside table. 2:04 am. Your brows furrowed in confusion, feeling discomfort. Who would be knocking at your door at 2 in the morning? Wiping your eyes you rose to your feet, questioning if this was really worth getting up for.

Slowly you found your courage, and a baseball bat in your hands. You stumbled through the hallway, trying to wake yourself up to face the potential threat at your door. You felt like you were walking right into a classic horror scene, was it Ghostface maybe? Nah he’d call, you think.

Through the peephole you saw the last person you’d ever expect at this ungodly hour.

“Wanda?” You yawned, hand still on the door. “It’s 2 in the morn- Woah.” You grunted in surprise as her arms wrapped around your waist, instinctively you wrapped your arms around her too. Your surprise quickly shifted into concern at her small sniffles, the brunette tightly gripping at your shirt. “Wanda? What’s wrong?”

The girl in your arms said nothing, merely shaking her head against your shirt. You took that as your cue to close the door behind you, leading Wanda inside. Not once did you separate from her, allowing her to cling onto you. Despite the circumstances you couldn’t help the blush from rising.

Unfortunately you don’t dwell on how nice it feels to be hugging Wanda, not now, not when she’s still crying. Removing an arm around her, you place it on the small of her back. “Why don’t we go sit on the couch?”

It’s then that Wanda realizes her current position, she takes a shuddering breath, agreeing with a nod of her head. You ignore the flutter in your chest from the way her grip tightened on your forearm as you lead the way.

When you sit on the couch Wanda follows suit, sitting a safe distance away from you. You figure she’s composing her thoughts from the way she plays with the rings on her fingers.

Without thinking you reach for her hand, missing the way her breath hitches from the contact. “What’s wrong Wanda? You can tell me.”

The brunette looks up at you through tearful eyes, she only feels herself tear up further by the look you give her. An adoring look, a soft comforting smile. It hurts to look at, it hurts even more when your eyebrows furrow.

“You don’t have to talk about it if it’s bothering you so much…” You add, she’s quick to wipe her eyes and take a deep breath.

“Y/n, I’m pregnant.” She sighs out, feeling some relief. She cringes at the way your eyes widen in surprise. Now you were certainly awake.

Out of all the things Wanda would say, that was certainly not one you would’ve predicted. Pregnant. Of course you could see Wanda being a mom but you recalled her mentioning how she’d like to finish college first.

Clearly…that didn’t happen.

“I just found out.” Wanda let out one of many sighs to come, rubbing her swollen eyes with her hoodie sleeves. She leaned back on the couch, giving you a forced smile.

You remained flabbergasted. Pregnant.

Wanda was pregnant. And came to you. For comfort? Advice? A secret revelation that your love for her was strong enough to get her pregnant? That last one was still part of your sleepy brain talking.

You had many questions, the most important one was where was the father? You assumed Vision was the father, at least. Even if part of you didn’t like that idea so much.

Taking in consideration how the brunette arrived at your house, with red bloodshot eyes, and tear stains on her cheeks from crying so much. You worded your next question carefully. “I’m assuming it’s bad?”

A watery laugh escapes her lips, she shakes her head in disbelief. “Bad is an understatement.” And although she’s laughing, her eyes continue to water until she’s tired of pretending everything’s going okay. Her crying turns to sobs, leaning against you for support again. This time you don’t disconnect, letting her rest her weight on you.

You stare up at the ceiling, Wanda laying on your chest having fallen fast asleep. The couch is comfortable enough to make you feel better, but not enough to silence your worries for the woman on top of you. Unsure of what to think you simply conclude it’s best if you don’t, not right now.

Letting out a deep breath, you close your eyes, tightening your arms around the girl.

Tomorrow, tomorrow you could talk about it.

/-/

It was tomorrow, and you were dreading talking about it. It’s not even yours, chill out, you reminded yourself. First thing you woke up to was an empty couch, with just you laying on it. Where was Wanda? Rubbing your eyes to wake up fully you noticed the small sticky note on your arm.

Turning it around revealed Wanda’s whereabouts.

I wanted to make you breakfast, so I went to the market. Your pantry sucks ♥️

Okay, breakfast. You loved Wanda’s meals, you figured the least you could do was clean up the kitchen for her. Forcing yourself to get up you threw your arms over your head, letting your back pop. Looking towards the kitchen in all honesty it didn’t look too bad.

Just some pots that needed to be cleaned, remove the grease. A bag of flour on the counter…you didn’t quite remember why and how that was there. And a sock on the stovetop, you held it up in disgust. When did that get there?

Feeling embarrassed for yourself, you got to work. Quickly. Socks were placed in the hamper. Flour, back in the pantry in its designated compartment. Then you dropped some flour, falling all over yourself and the items around you.

“Great…” you muttered, eying all the powder on the floor.

Sweeping it is.

Aside from the mess, and making more of a mess things went quite smoothly. You were satisfied with your work, the kitchen looked like a kitchen again. However pots still remained, making quick work of them you rinsed them off.

Not noticing how the front door opened and a certain brunette looked your way. She smiled fondly at the small cusses you let out, shaking your hand from the hot water. Carefully she placed down all the grocery bags, a little louder than she intended.

“Oh shit!” You gasped, dropping the pot. “Wanda! You scared me.” You chuckled, turning off the tap, you could finish washing that later.

“You bought a lot…” You pointed out, drying your hands. Six paper bags were on the table, you were very glad you took time to clean it.

Wanda snorted, unloading the frozen products from one bag. “Y/n you didn’t even have tomatoes. Absolutely no produce.”

You rolled your eyes. You never cooked much, tomatoes would’ve gone bad under your care. Wanda on the other hand lived for cooking. A perfect balance in your opinion, she could cook, and you could taste. You walked over, taking the frozen foods from her hands to put them away, ignoring the pointed look.

She muttered something about your organizational skills—lack of. Probably a complaint.

“How much was it?” You asked from the freezer.

Does cheese go in there?

“It’s on me.” She shrugged, opening the onions and placing them in the basket. Her nose crinkled watching you attempt to be useful, gently her fingers wrapped around your wrist, taking the cheese away and putting it in the fridge.

You let out a shaky exhale from the contact, watching her walk away. Shaking off the feeling you remember her words, scrunching your face. “No Wanda, how much?” Pulling out your wallet you handed her $120 “Here.”

Wanda laughed, pushing your hand away “No. It’s on me. For last night.”

“Seriously?” You scoffed not believing it, waving the money at her. If she wouldn’t take it you knew you’d have to put it in her purse when she wasn’t looking. Like usual. “Well at least let me cook if you’re not gonna take it.”

“I said I was making breakfast!” She whined. Cute.

You pouted at your friend, stuffing your hands in your pockets. “Yeah but I want to do something…”

Wanda smiled, placing a hand on your forearm. “You’ve done enough for me.” She said, leaning up to place a small peck on your cheek. “Thank you Y/n.”

Your breath caught in your throat, knowing you didn’t win this battle. Of course not, she cheated, but she didn’t know that. She’s with Vision, having no clue of the effects she has on you. You still felt hot on the inside, and were probably blushing on the outside too.

Damnit Y/n pull it together, she’s pregnant and needs your support. Not your gayness.

Once everything was put away, mainly Wanda doing the work and correcting whatever you did wrong. She pushed you down on the chair, telling you to sit while she cooked. Then you could talk, talk.

Right, the talk.

Fuck.

You wondered why you were still so nervous. Around Wanda? Well that one was given. But a pregnant Wanda? That felt…odd. Nevertheless you gave her, her space not wanting to overwhelm the pregnant person.

She didn’t look pregnant…obviously. She just found out…hasn't even been a month. God was it hot in this room? Or were you just sweating? Nervous.

“It is Visions.” You turned your head to look at Wanda. She spoke calmly with a tense figure. She flipped the bacon, turning her eyes to you. “And- You know I didn’t want…kids right now but things happen. We’ve talked about it before and Vision said he’d love that.”

You tilted your head, knowing there was more to it.

She let out a shaky breath “After college, he's still building his business a-and he said he doesn’t have time to raise a family. He wants nothing to do with them but I-“

“Abortion isn’t…?”

“No.” She said firmly, turning off the stove, using her sleeves to wipe her blurred eyes. “Your bacon might be a little salty by the way.” She smiled sadly, handing you a plate with two pancakes.

Seeing past the smile, you squeezed her arm in understanding, grabbing the plate from her hands. She sat down across from you, eating from her own plate giving you the opportunity to do the same.

“These are great Wands.” You mumbled after swallowing your food, wiping your mouth. “You’d be a good mom.” Digging your fork into the pancakes for more. They were truly delicious, you don’t think you’d ever get used to how spectacular she made them.

Wanda gave you a scrunched look, a sheepish smile on her lips. “You’re just saying that.” She shrugged it off, ignoring the way it made her feel.

“I'm not though. You’re kind, patient, compassionate, giving, and understanding. Aren't those motherly qualities?” You teased, though your tone remained reassuring.

Still Wanda remained in disbelief, shaking her head lightly letting out a breathy laugh “I’m just not sure where to go from here. I’m keeping them.” She stared at you, seriously, as if you would try to change her mind.

“But that’s all I know.” She rubbed her head with her hands, feeling frustrated. She had no plan.

You reached over for Wanda’s hand, rubbing soft circles with your thumb. “It’s okay, we can figure it out together.”

Her mouth curved into a smile, looking at both of your hands. Together, that was a nice word. Then she took in what you said, her head tilting to the side. “We?”

Wanda’s smile turned into a teasing one, as you stammered over your words, tensing your hand from their ministrations. “Well yeah I mean since Vision isn’t really in the picture and you shared the apartment with him I’m assuming- offering if you wanted to stay with me.” You bit the inside of your cheek.

Smooth.

“It was just a thought I had…” You finished, feeling intimidated by her gaze. Your heart pounded against your chest, waiting for her answer. You had basically just proposed she move in with you, with a kid. Like couples do. With a kid.

The more you thought about it the more you wanted her to say yes. You wanted to care for her, god knows she needed it. An idea came into your head about rearranging the guest bedroom into Wanda’s, only if she said yes- god we’re getting ahead of ourselves what if she says n-

“Yes.” She blurted, squeezing your hand in excitement, a little harder than intended.

“Wait- yes?”

“Yes! Oh my god yes,” She practically squealed, standing up from her seat to pace. “I mean I was also thinking about where I’d go…I’m not ready to tell my parents, you know how they feel about pregnancy before marriage, and Pietro already knows but he’s barely thriving.” She gestured with her hands, clasping them together and looking at you expectantly.

You nodded, growing even more excited with her. “Then it’s settled, you’ll stay here.” You beamed up at the brunette. She was quick to pull you out of your chair with a toothy grin, pulling you into a hug.

You both sighed at the contact, holding each other tighter.

“Thank you, again.” She mumbled, nuzzling further into your neck. You could only smile, what else could you do? This girl was amazing, you squeezed her back in response.

“It’s no problem, I’d love having you here. And the kid, or kids? Wouldn’t it be crazy if you had twins- worse triplets.” You mumbled to yourself, Wanda giggled.

Maybe Wanda would need help moving in. Getting her stuff, avoiding Vision. You thought to yourself about skipping work for the day- maybe a week. The guest bedroom had the essentials, but not anything baby related…

As you continued rambling on about the move, Wanda sighed, tugging you closer with a loving smile on her face. Then it dawned on her, was she in love with her best friend? Her eyes widened at the realization, trying to bury her panic and listen to your voice instead.

You raised a hand to your chin, not noticing how tense she had become. “I think I could skip work today and go to the hardware store. We might need a crib, the guest bedroom is yours but the baby gosh it needs its space too-“

/-/

The move had gone smoothly, a little too smoothly. Wanda insisted you stay outside the door to Visions apartment while she took care of things. Reluctantly you agreed standing outside waiting, only coming in when Wanda signaled for you to come in.

His apartment was quite nice, you could see why Wanda liked it so much. Unsurprisingly his home was decorated with small luxuries, perks of being a Stark.

Boxes after boxes went by packed, you insisted Wanda do the lighter loads, not wanting her to hurt her back. And before noon all of Wanda’s stuff was ready to go, no Vision in sight. He must’ve been busy today, Wanda only muttering something about his Chess club.

Not wanting to stay any longer you packed up the truck, heading to your place. So in short, yes, everything was going great. Wanda made herself an even more important figure in your life, you didn’t think that was possible. Although she had a way of proving you wrong.

She fell quickly into your daily routine, and so easily too. Every morning she’d make you coffee for work, and when she was feeling sick you made her breakfast in return. Wanda had been getting sick a lot more than usual, you assumed it was morning sickness. If only you had realized sooner how bad it had gotten.

Wanda could not sleep.

There were days when she’d have nightmares as a kid that prevented her from sleeping, often nightmares of a bomb being dropped on her house. Nights waiting up for Vision where she couldn’t sleep in hopes he’d return soon. Many times in her life Wanda found it difficult to sleep, this time the horrors of pregnancy guiding her to insomnia.

Until she felt that familiar feeling again, nausea. Quickly she threw the covers off herself, booking it towards the bathroom. Wanda was so grateful your guest bedroom had a bathroom connected to it, it had given her more privacy and spared her the embarrassment.

Her fingertips barely grazed on the door to close it before she was kneeling on the floor by the toilet, emptying the compartments in her stomach.

Hunched over on the toilet she didn’t realize how much time had passed, time passed slowly for her during this part. All she remembered was the door creaking a little and her hair being collected into a ponytail.

Wanda swore she could hear your voice, she preferred to focus on how nice your hand felt rubbing on her back, how soothing it felt. Your touch brought her back, wiping the side of her lips she turned to meet your concerned eyes.

Only turning more concerned by the look of exhaustion Wanda held. Words weren’t necessary to communicate where Wanda would be staying that night, or any other nights. Really, as Wanda was pulled up to her feet, and guided to your bedroom she found herself unwilling to care. You kissed her forehead so tenderly whispering goodnight that made Wanda realize it wasn’t so bad.

Sleeping in your arms was worth a little sickness.

/-/

“Twins.” You heard Wanda mutter from beside, laying on the bed. You couldn’t quite decipher her tone, but her squeeze on your hand made you feel uneasy. Not wanting to overwhelm her, you decided to keep silent, biting the inside of your cheek.

Weeks had flown by pretty fast, Wanda being on her 15th. Poor girl was already feeling the pain of carrying not one but two kids in her stomach. She’d often ask you to hold her stomach which you easily complied too.

The doctor turned in his chair, away from the monitor looking at you both with a grin. “Yep! Looks like two healthy babies, would you like to know the gender?” He asked.

Your eyes glanced at Wanda, her face indifferent. Thankfully you caught the slight quiver of her lips letting you know all you needed to.

“Uh no. Thank you Doctor Stephen but I think” She squeezed your hand again. “…we’re fine for now.” You mustered up a polite smile.

He nodded his head, mirroring the same smile “Of course! I’ll just go put this in your file and clean things up then you’re good to go.” He tossed his gloves in the bin, finally leaving you two alone.

You sucked your teeth, hearing the door click shut. Knowing Wanda, she was never used to change even though throughout her childhood all the brunette did was suffer through it. She liked to be in control, prepared for what to expect.

Now it seemed you were expecting two.

You let out a small noise as your back hit the chair next to her side. Deciding to break the silence, you spoke calmly, “So twins, I guess that means we might need another crib.”

Her eyes only twitched in response, barely acknowledging the way you tried to subtly cheer her up. Make her feel this wasn’t a sudden change she wasn’t prepared for. The thought of another kid shook Wanda, it made her feel nervous. She fidgeted from her place, picking at the bedsheets.

Wanda shook her head, letting out a sigh. She took her hand off yours, using them to rub her temple. “God I- this wasn’t supposed to happen. Y/n I-“ Her throat closed up, she hated the way her immediate response was to cry, tears starting to prickle at her eyes. She hated even more how your face softened, “I can barely fathom one kid, now I’m supposed to mother two.”

Her head hung lowly as small tears started to stream down her cheeks. Not wanting you to see her that way she tried her best to turn away only for you to grab her cheeks with both hands, thumbs rubbing soft circles against her skin. Wanda let out a choked sob, staring at you so hopelessly. The sight broke your heart.

“Wanda hey, it’s okay.” You whispered.

“No Y/n I just- two. That’s two new people coming into your home, and me included- I can’t do this to you. You don’t deserve it.” She croaked out, sniffling between words.

You scrunch your face in protest, giving her a stern shake of your head. “Wanda you’ve always been welcome in my home, pregnant or not and it’s not just mine now it’s yours too. I want to help you.” You affirmed, moving your hands to wipe at her tears before coming down to hold her own.

“Why?” She asked.

“Because I care about you, and I love you.” You confessed, the words coming out with more meaning than you intended. Wanda stared up at you in adoration, her eyes crinkling, and a small blush dusting her cheeks. It was then you noticed how close you were, how close Wanda's face was to your own. Feeling overwhelmed by her stare, you looked away, taking a couple steps back. “And I love them too, whatever they are…”

Missing the disappointed look on her face.

Leaning back into the bed, Wanda turns her head to look at you, and if you were looking back you would’ve seen the loving look on her face “I really don’t deserve a friend like you.” She said softly, her voice so fragile.

Then you turned back this time, meeting her gaze, her words registering in your head. Quickly your face turned into a frown, “Don’t say that.”

Ignoring your words Wanda took a hold of your hand. A gesture that came so naturally now, both of you latching onto each other, wanting to feel one another. “I love you too, so much detka.”

More than you realize.

/-/

“Y/n.” Wanda murmured hurriedly, shaking at your arm. “Detka, wake up.”

Letting out a snort, you woke up with a cough, turning away to cover yourself. Your eyes fluttered wide open, wrestling with the sheets in a panic, “Huh? Yeah- Wands? What's wrong, are they here?”

A small smile crept up her lips at the mention of the twins, “No silly, I'm just…hungry again.” She whispered, turning away from your gaze in embarrassment.

“Again?” You clarified.

“Yeah…sorry.” She chuckled awkwardly.

Leaning on your elbows for support you lifted yourself up, sitting up. Scratching the back of your head you turned to look at your clock. Naturally it was 2 am, usually the time when Wanda would get hungry.

“No, no, that's fine.” You muttered hoarsely, clearing your throat. “I don’t mind, what are you craving?”

“Steves burgers…” She beamed.

“Steves? Okay I’ll get you some, with onions or without?” You said as you walked towards the closet, shrugging on your jacket.

“With, and grilled please.”

“Okay, yeah.” You hummed, slipping on your shoes. “I’ll uh be back try to get some sleep yeah? It's pretty late.” Kneeling up from the floor you reached for your wallet, stuffing it in your pockets.

Wanda made a disagreeing grunt but pulled the sheets back on herself anyway. “I guess.”

You nodded, giving her a sheepish smile. Grabbing your keys from the nightstand you made your way to the door, a small tug on your jacket stopping you. Curiously you turned around to meet Wanda, tilting your head in question. Her hand traveled up your forearm, pulling you down to press a lingering kiss on your cheek.

“Stay safe, and put on your glasses when you drive. Your astigmatism gets bad at this hour.” She husked out, letting you go.

Your breath catches in your throat, not trusting your words you nod again. Stumbling through a few items you rush towards the door, leaving with a small goodbye unsure why Wanda was teasing you. What was that?

/-/

“Hey.” You said, a surprised look on your face as you closed the door behind you. Wanda gave a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes from the dimly lit dining room. She was sitting comfortably in the chair, wearing one of your hoodies.

“Hi.”

“What are you doing out of bed? You should be resting, it’s really late.” Checking at the clock once again you confirmed your suspicions, you assumed perhaps she’d enjoy her burger in bed like she always does. This time however Wanda had different plans, fiddling with her sleeves.

“You know I can’t sleep without you.” She retorted, gazing into your eyes “I like it when you’re here.” She confesses profoundly.

You give her a sheepish smile, unsure what to say. The look in her eyes does nothing but make you even more nervous, what was going on with her? “I like it when you’re here too. Is everything okay?”

Wanda lets out a sigh, you choose to ignore it thinking she’s probably starving by now. You place the plastic bag on the table, taking out the bags and giving Wanda her burger. A number 2 with grilled onions, two pickles, and no cheese. “And I got you these.” You slide the container to her.

Wanda gives you a questioning look before opening it, she lets out a gasp when she does. Animal style fries. The annoyed quirk of her eyebrows long gone. Closing the lid she gives you a thankful pout, her eyes glossing. “Thank you…”

“I got you a strawberry milkshake too since I know you like dipping them with the animal fries.” You chuckled, putting the glass on the table.

That’s when Wanda wanted to cry, cry pathetically into her perfect burger brought by your perfect, kind, compassionate self. Instead she tossed the burger aside and pulled you in for a passionate kiss. Your eyes widened in surprise, but pressed back with the same intensity, quickly melting into the kiss.

Wanda sighing against your lips easily became your new favorite sound, eager to get her to make more, your hands coming up to cup her face. Eventually you realize that this isn’t just any girl, but your best friend. Your best friend who you’d have been crushing on for years, your best friend who just kissed you.

She kissed you.

And you almost break the kiss by how much you’re smiling but Wanda beats you to it, leaving lingering kisses on your lips, slowing the pace until her forehead is against yours. “I’m in love with you Y/n.”

Your breath hitches “M-Me too.”

Wanda shakes her head, moving to nuzzle against your collarbone. “No detka, as in more than just a friend.” She says, reminded of your previous statements on what friends do. Fuck being friends, you wanted Wanda. Wanted to show her how good of a partner you could be.

“So you like me?” You asked shyly, still processing the revelation.

Wanda picked up her head from your shoulder, correcting you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Love you.”

You swallowed dryly, feeling your heart race. “That's great- thats- I.”

“Just kiss me already.” She orders breathlessly, barely giving you time to mutter ‘okay’ before your lips are on hers again.

It's not until the morning when you both come downstairs, lovesick smiles on your faces, that you realize the mess you left behind. Both burgers remain uneaten, but as your eyes glance down to yours and Wanda's intertwined fingers, you could care less.

#wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wlw post #wanda imagine #wanda my beloved #fluff #pregnancy #pregnant wanda maximoff

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too-deviant · 8 months ago

Text

jackie and wilson.

previous | next series masterlist.

summary: you haven’t been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile.

paring: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

word count: 4k

content: luke is still a moody teenager, reader is still the fly he cant get rid of. does he really want to, though?

notes: these first two parts feel very introductory but it gets juicy as we dive a little further in the next parts hehe. also who do we think readers godly parent is?

PART II — and lord, she found me just in time

For a hotshot lawyer, your mom couldn’t lie for the life of her. Every time you brought it up, she’d always quip that she didn’t need to be a good liar to be a good lawyer, since all new evidence is legally required to be disclosed to both parties before they are presented in court. Therefore, there is no lying, only brief twisting of the truth. She was good at that — clearly.

“You said you didn’t want me to leave you!”

The wooden floor of Chiron’s office wasn’t the most comfortable of lounging places, but you’d accidentally kicked the radiator after tripping over a horseshoe and Mr. D — who had escorted you there when you’d asked about speaking to your mom — had just sighed and told you to use the mist currently spraying from it as a form of communication. The whole Iris Message thing was still unusual to you, but at the same time, you’d tripped over a horseshoe because the owner of the office was half-horse. Does it get weirder than that? Probably not.

You leaned back on your haunches, disbelief written all over your face at the scene you…walked in on? Called in on? Iris Messaged in on? Whatever — you were more worried about what you were looking at than the right terminology to describe it.

“Oh — sweetie!” Your mom was quick to hop down from the kitchen counter, pushing the man who had been standing between her legs away from her so forcefully he fell back into the living room.

“What was that?” You heard him ask from afar. Your mom chuckled, buttoning up her blouse.

“The answering machine.” She excused, “I completely forgot I was supposed to call back my daughter. Would you give me a minute?”

The man agreed with a huff and your mom pushed the kitchen door closed with a click before looking at you, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms, “I didn’t. I sure do now!”

“I’ve been gone for, like, two days!” You exclaimed, “And you’re already inviting your boyfriend over? How old are you?”

“Oh, let it go.” The woman chastised, shaking her head and attempting to push down her amused smile. “I was bored.”

“Bored.” You chuckled, “Of course.”

“But I miss you.” She said then, smiling sweetly and leaning her hip on the island, “How’s camp?”

“It’s great.” You grinned, “The people are great, the food is great. Turns out, I am super with a spear.”

“A spear, huh?” Your mom nodded, “No surprise there, you’ve got a hell of an arm.”

You hummed excitedly, the previous event long forgotten as you filled her in on your first few days at camp, “One of my friends in cabin nine offered to make me a personal one.” Your mom furrowed her brows, “Children of Hephaestus. Blacksmith guy.”

“Right.” She nodded with a click of her tongue. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” You smirked cheekily, ignoring the scoff and evil look she sent you in response.

“Alright. I best go.” She interrupted just as you went to make another comment about her guest, “I will see you at the end of summer. Okay?”

“Okay. Love you.”

Truthfully, you were happy to spend the rest of the day talking to your mom — it was so hot that morning that you’d thought about sacrificing your breakfast to Apollo in hopes that he’d ease up a little. You decided against it and just sent your prayers to each of them in general, hoping maybe your dad could fess up to actually being your dad.

Clarisse had suspected you would soon join her in the Ares Cabin — something about your skills with a spear and the swift right hook you sent Chris when he made one too many comments on your form during your training session with her. You weren’t even sure why he’d been there, but you could probably fathom a guess if you judged by the looks he sent her whenever she wasn’t looking.

After the exciting discovery that yes, you were good at something, Mr. D had come by to say you could either call your mom now or never. You chose the former option, obviously, and you only regretted it slightly as you heaved yourself up from the ground — already missing the sound of her voice.

You didn’t let it linger, instead you pushed the creaky door of the Big House open as gently as you could, even though it still swung back against the wall, and nodded at the pair sitting on the porch, currently in a heated card game you couldn’t recognise. They didn’t look at you for long, Chiron muttering something about meeting the Demeter kids by the fields to test your gardening skills before putting down a card that made Mr. D grumble in his seat.

You were trudging through the grass, huffing when the longer bits tickled your legs and made you go all itchy, when you spotted a body sat by the hearth in the horseshoe of cabins. You lit up, changing course and jogging over to them, “JoJo!”

Luke looked up at you, frowning, “What?”

His curls fell over his eyes and he shook them away, only to squint at the sun that shone into them. You sidestepped, your shadow proving ample shade so he could focus on you, and you stammered a bit when his face fell into focus. He was pretty.

You let out a breathless chuckle, folding your arms, “From Horton Hears a Who.” He shows no signs of recognition, “You’ve never seen it?” Again, his face did little to answer you, so you shrugged, “Whatever. I’ll get an answer out of you one day, I’m sure. We’ve made steady progress.”

“Have we?” He hummed, picking at the worn sleeve of his hoodie.

“Of course we have, ya’ nutmegger.” You quipped with a short chuckle, grinning when his eyes snapped back to yours.

“You still haven’t told me where you’re from.”

You tutted, “Where’s the fun in that? You gotta find out.”

He huffed, “Whatever.”

Since his outburst about New England the day before, Luke had done a considerable job at avoiding you. Well, you didn’t think he was doing it on purpose — he just wasn’t obligated to spend time with you anymore now that you were cleared to roam camp on your own. You’d seen him at breakfast, perched silently on the end of the bench and staring sadly at his soggy oatmeal, but then Clarisse had whisked you off to the training fields with Chris hot on her tail and you hadn’t seen him since.

You weren’t completely sure why you were so determined to break his shell. Maybe it was because you knew he never used to be this way — that underneath the deep frowns and annoyed huffs, was a happy boy who would spend days in the sun with his teeth bared in a wide grin — and you yearned to get a peek of who Luke Castellan used to be. To bear your eyes on the side of him he kept away and to find out why he did so, to understand him on a level deeper than anyone around you did, or even deeper than you understood yourself.

Or maybe because he’s hot.

Either way, you weren’t letting him slide away that easily. No sir. You straightened your back, “Going to the gardens.”

No reply, as usual.

A huff, “Mind walking me? I don’t wanna get lost.”

He looked at you, brown eyes flitting over your expression, before licking his lips and standing, “Fine.”

You grinned then, wide and sunny, “Great.”

You knew where the gardens were — hell, you could see them from where you stood, the two teenage sons of Dionysus chasing each other with sticks while the Demeter kids scowled at them. But you were new, and Luke was ‘the guy’ for all the new campers, so really he wasn’t allowed to say no.

You were desperate to know more about him; his favourite sport, movie, colour. Anything irrelevant that you could see in public and think: Luke. You just didn’t know where to start — he could shut down at any given moment, so which question was more fitting to ask before he built up his walls and fucked off?

You settled for something easy — something subtle that wouldn’t hint towards you asking about him. An easy question that any reasonable tour guide would have to answer.

“So, do you guys host any…mortal activities?” Looking up at him in question, brows raised as he once again made no indication that he’d even heard you speak.

But he had, “Not usually. Sometimes on weekends we’ll play volleyball on the beach, and I think Lee Fletcher has a soccer ball he kicks around but…” He shrugged, “No. Not really.”

You hummed, “You said we. Do you play volleyball?”

Nice one.

Luke stiffened a little, sort of appalled that you’d swerved the question on him so easily, but he answered with a grumble, “Not anymore.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, “Grew out of it.”

“Huh.” You said then, facing forward with a nod and continuing your trek through the long grass, occasionally reaching down to scratch your calves, “I don’t think I’ll ever grow out of baseball.”

Come on, Castellan, take the bait.

“Baseball?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed, a little too excitedly for it to be a simple answer to a simple question. You lowered your volume and gave a more collected nod, “Yeah. Yes. I’ve played since I was old enough…little league.” You let out a weak chuckle, suddenly shy about the subject.

Luke nodded at you, “First base?”

“Left field.” You corrected with a proud smile, “I got legs.”

“Oh.” He replied, a little caught off guard at that. Although, he was also caught off guard when you said you played baseball.

You were debating whether or not to press when a gangly blonde boy with dark purple eyes jogged up to you and held out a wicker basket, “You’re the new kid right?” He didn’t wait for an answer before thrusting the basket to your chest, “I’m Pollux. We’re picking strawberries, c’mon, I’ll show you the best way to get ‘em.”

You weren’t sure there was a specific tactic to picking strawberries, but you stepped to follow him anyway. Turning your head to send a thankful smile to Luke for walking you down, you spotted him looking between you and Pollux with furrowed brows — then he noticed your stare and swallowed, nodding, “Uh, see you later.”

“Bye.” You replied, slightly starstruck. He walked off, but he did it slowly as if he was unsure of where to go next. You were positive he had somewhere to be — big shot counsellor and all — but as you stood, one foot in front of the other, face turned back to watch him go, he seemed to stutter in his steps at the top of the hill, deciding where to turn. His beaten converse led him west, and Pollux yelled you out of your stupor so you could help him and his brother pick strawberries.

As suspected, your strawberry-picking skills were pretty much the same as everyone else’s — really, how can one person be any better at picking strawberries than another? It’s a very simple task. Either way, Castor and Pollux didn’t envision you as their long lost sister, and the Demeter kids apparently couldn’t smell it on you that you were one of them, whatever that meant, so you were back to your search for daddy dearest — at this point, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to find out anymore. All this hassle and for what? It’s not as if he was going to attend the daddy-daughter dance with you, no matter which god he might be.

“So, do you, like, know Luke or something?”

Henry Furstatt was a Demeter kid a couple of years younger than you, who had been set the task of walking you to the lake where you would rejoin the Hermes cabin on their canoe lesson. He wasn’t very talkative until you’d put some distance between yourselves and the strawberry fields, where he posed his question.

You glanced at him with a thoughtful frown, “I mean, he’s been showing me around the past couple days, so…I guess —“

“I meant like,” He swallowed, waving his hands around, “from before. Did you know each other before you came to camp?”

“Oh.” You responded, tucking a loose hair that had fallen in front of your face away, “No. Why’d you think that?”

Henry shrugged, his loose-fitting camp shirt doing wonders to hide the movements, “Dunno. He just hasn’t talked to many people since he got back from his quest…but he’s talking to you.”

“Well.” You were suddenly a little sheepish — were you pushing Luke too much? Was your constant questioning making him uncomfortable? You were only on a mission to find out more about him because he interested you, but did you interest him, or was he ready to boot you as far as you’d fly? “He has to, doesn’t he? He’s still a counsellor, even if he does hate everyone here.”

“True.” He settled with a nod, fiddling with a daisy he’d picked while you were walking.

You breathed a content sigh when you finally stepped out of the grass — the summer blooming made it slightly unbearable to walk through, tickling at your legs the whole afternoon. The beating sun didn’t make you feel any nicer, but you just wafted your shirt a little as you walked past the Hermes cabin and towards the dock.

Camp was always noisy; something you’d grown accustomed to the longer you stayed there. You never really noticed it until you were alone, but the chatter of the kids filled the air the whole day and only really faded out when they all went to sleep. It was slightly unnerving to sit in the silence, and the loud murmurs often comforted you — made you feel less suffocated as the new kid. Less eyes on you, the better.

You were so used to the noise, in fact, that you almost completely brushed past the argument that was brewing outside the Ares cabin just a few metres away. Fortunately, Henry spotted the commotion, and pulled you to a halt in favour of staring at the ever-growing crowd.

You followed his eyeline and spotted a burly looking boy with black hair — when he moved his head and the sun hit the right spots, you could see dark red highlights swimming in his locks. You thought that was a little bit much, but you forfeited commenting on it considering the giant machaira that hung on his back.

The boy in question was sneering at someone in front of him, but the corners of his mouth were perked up in an amused smile that made you think he wasn’t angry yet, but he sure was getting there. You couldn’t see who he was talking to, but as Henry ventured closer, you were forced to follow and eventually his words reached your ears.

“—big shot golden boy finally got himself a quest and doesn’t fancy sharing the details.” He laughed, deep and low in his throat.

Henry patted someone on the shoulder, and they stepped aside to let him into the circle. You stayed behind him, watching over his head and finally checking out the opponent. Your eyes stopped on the familiar figure, and his familiar curls that hung over his eyes — eyes that were glaring daggers in the Ares kid’s direction, casting shadows over his cheekbones and making his scar look a little menacing.

The boy continued after Luke showed no signs of replying, “We get it, Castellan. You failed, but that doesn’t mean you get to gatekeep the whole thing.”

“Dean, man.” You finally noticed Chris, standing off to the side of Luke and glancing at his brother in apprehension at the boy's words. “Back off.”

Dean just snorted, “Don’t defend him, Rodriguez. We let him mope, now it’s time for him to spill the beans.” He took a step closer to Luke, “What happened on your quest?”

You had only known Luke for two days. You weren’t sure if he was the type to fly off the handle, swing before reasoning, but you suddenly became aware that neither did anyone else. Sure, these people had known him for years — but you’d heard it from enough people to know that he was a different person these days. After his quest a couple of weeks ago, people had been walking on eggshells around the boy. Maybe a month ago, he would’ve calmly walked away and let Dean simmer in his anger. But now? Nobody could be sure, but judging by the look in his eyes, darkening by the second, you might be able to fathom a guess as to what he’s going to do with his hands now that they were rolled into fists.

“I mean, is this about glory? Because you won’t exactly be sharing it — ya’ can’t share what you don’t have.” Dean let out a chortle at his own joke, looking between his friends around him and grinning with them.

Luke stepped forward. And — you couldn’t blame anyone, really. After that last comment, you were all expecting fists to be swung. It was only reasonable. Maybe the old Luke wouldn’t have done it, but this new Luke was looking increasingly more angry at the world as the days went by, so when he took one measly step forward, the crowd around him let out a collective woah! and put their hands out to stop him from lunging. Including yourself.

Only he wasn’t about to punch Dean. His hand stayed dormant at his side, the only clear movement was the single step closer he’d taken to match the one the Ares boy had made earlier. He was only really stepping forward so his next words would hit harder — that’s all it was, words. They died on his lips when he realised the implications of his actions, looking between the outstretched arms and tense faces.

He looked at Dean, “We can discuss quests when you get your own.”

Then he walked off, past the crowd that didn’t bother stopping him. Looking around, you saw the looks on their faces — shame, from assuming Luke would evoke such violence off the sparring mat. You definitely felt it, but you didn’t stick around long enough to confirm that with anyone else. Instead, you left Chris to berate Dean in place of the head counsellor and followed the boy in question as he huffed up the hill towards the edge of the woods.

“Hey!” You said, breathless (you were not an uphill climber). “Hey, Luke!”

He hesitated in his steps like he did earlier, but he didn’t turn around. His head twitched a little, like he wanted to look but was holding himself back, but you simply rounded him until you were face to face. The anger had long since dissolved from his expression, replaced with soft confusion.

“Hi.” You huffed, still recovering from that incline, “Are you okay? That guy’s a dick.”

“I know.” He replied, short as usual.

You licked your lips, still catching your breath, and nodded. He remained silent, looking around you like he was just waiting for you to leave. You decided to take the hint, muttering lowly, “Okay, sorry for bothering you.”

But his hand reached out, circling your wrist just as you passed him. You looked at Luke, raising your eyebrows, watching as he stammered on his words, “I, uh, you aren’t bothering me. I just…”

He let go of you and you stepped back to your precious spot. Behind him, the crowd had dissipated, Dean long gone. Chris remained, staring up at the pair of you on top of the hill. You couldn’t pinpoint his expression, but he seemed to hesitate before turning his back. You looked up at Luke.

“Why did you…come after me?”

You scoffed a laugh, “What? Anyone would’ve, it’s like…common decency.”

He twisted his expression, looking amused and devastated all at the same time, “But they didn’t.”

He was right; before you’d set off up the hill, everyone had just been watching him walk off. It seemed a little out of character, but then again, you didn’t know these people as well as you thought. Luke let out a sad chuckle, shaking his head, “Everyone’s sorta given up on me now that I’m…”

“Moody and depressed?” You finished, raising a single brow. You smiled at him, and it lifted into a grin when he smiled back, albeit only slightly. But you’d take it. “I just think that they’re a little unsure.”

“They’re scared, is what they are.” He said firmly, staring at the ground in mirth, “Their precious golden boy won’t clean up all of their messes anymore and they’re scared that they’ll have to start looking after themselves.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” You said, even if you didn’t believe it. How could you? You didn’t know these people, Luke did. “They’re just worried about you.”

He scoffed, finally moving his head up and meeting your eyes. He went to say something, presumably another quip about the campers, but stopped himself. Backtracked. Instead he said, “Aren’t you angry that you haven’t been claimed yet?”

That was a deep question. You sat on it for a couple of seconds, reeling at the sudden shift of conversation, until you finally let out a low puff of air and shrugged, “I don’t really know how I feel. Why? Should I be?”

“This camp, it’s —“ He huffed, “It helps you, sure. But it also forces you to…mould yourself into the perfect kid for — for a parent who doesn’t care enough to watch you grow up. Help you live, use their divine powers when a dragon is clawing your fucking face off!”

He’d stepped closer to you, unknowingly, that final shout making you wince a little at the volume. He stopped then, evening his breaths and stepping back with an apologetic expression. You brushed it off.

“A dragon clawed your face off?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled weakly, “Tell anyone and I’ll kill you.”

You smiled at him, shamefully admiring his face. Now that he wasn’t glaring in anger, and his face was more relaxed, you could see the whites of his eyes. His lashes, unreasonably long, and his lips that were so plush you were close to asking him if he took a trip to see Dr Miami while he was on his quest.

“Gods.” You murmured under your breath, “You’re so pretty it sorta pisses me off.”

Luke laughed then — a genuine chortle that shook his chest and made passers by glance in his direction. His grin was uncharacteristically wide and for a second, a brief moment, you saw it. Luke Castellan, the one everyone looks up to. The one they turn to in times of peril, the one they giggle and gossip about under the shade of the fir trees.

Then you knew your answer to Luke’s question. No — you weren’t angry that you hadn’t been claimed. In fact, you didn’t think you’d care even if you were so long as he was smiling at you like that.

He calmed down, catching his breath, his face relaxing back into that cool expression he’s always got on. Maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you, but you were sure he looked a little less tense than before. He nodded, waving a hand, “Alright, Sunny. Let’s go canoeing.”

“Sunny?” You asked, walking alongside him.

He clicked his tongue, glancing down at you, “If Apollo won’t claim you as a child of the sun, then I will.”

“Alright.” You smiled softly, looking forward so he wouldn’t see it and run off. You picked at your nails, “So long as I can call you JoJo.”

“Let’s watch that silly movie it’s from and I’ll decide if you can call me that.”

“Deal.”

🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons (comment to be added/removed!)

#sunny!verse #@lia’s works #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you

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earthtooz · 2 years ago

Text

·˚ ༘ MIKAGE REO BF HEADCANONS

warnings: fluff with angst + argument scene, mostly fluff tho but reo grovels bcthat'sjusthowilikehim, swearing, cw for food and alcohol, making out, hickies, sfw tho :p, 4k+ word count, gn!reader and pro soccer player!reo

a/n: I AM SOOOOOO NORMAL ABOUT HIM GUYS I PROMISE HAHAHA WATCH ME. WATCH ME *proceeds to write 4k+ words of what it'd be like dating this man*. enjoy <3

💳💥💳💥 100/10 BOYFRIEND 💳💥💳💥 ARGUE WITH THE WALL.

sorry i just really love him (a lot).

anyways ! personally, i’ve always perceived a friends to lovers sort of situation with reo- friends. as in, he’s liked you from the get-go and was never shy about vocalising it. he often asked you out on dates and you’d kindly reject his offers.

despite your countless rejections, it never deterred him. lucky for reo that you didn’t seem to mind much, happy to spend time and be around him despite his blatant showcases of affection for you.

reo was fuelled even more when you constantly turned him down, loving the ‘push-and-pull’ relationship surrounding you. his whole attitude surrounding fighting for things he wasn’t handed to at birth hasn’t exactly dwindled with time, proving apparent even now as a pro-soccer player.

this meant that he loved how stubborn you were, declining his invites no matter how tempting the offer might have been. could have been a free meal- his treat, at a michelin star restaurant and you turned it down without hesitation.

to reo this only made you more worthwhile to chase because ever since he could remember, he's had the frustration of only being appealing to people because of his wealth. he got use to it after a while, coming to terms that his name would just be synonymous to money, but to have someone break this mould felt liberating.

selfishly enough, he wanted to be by your side forever.

(you were in love with him too but thought he was way out of your league) so yeah. ‘friends’.

when you finally accepted a date after so long, reo was ecstatic. couldn’t hide how enthused he was when he finally heard the word ‘yes’ slip through your mouth. literally picked you up and spun you around, stuck in his little world of delirium and happiness for a few moments as you laughed with him, admiring his expression of pure elation whilst trapped in his arms.

he was raised with proper gentlemanly etiquette so definitely a few dates before anything big happened with him.

reo is absolutely the kind of boyfriend to memorise milestones. i kid you not, he has the date you finally agreed to go out with him memorised. it’s on his phone’s calender- he will always gift you flowers on this day that serve as a little reminder. when you ask him what’s the occasion he’ll shrug and act all nonchalant. maybe he’ll come clean about it one day, but for now, reo will savour how happy you are every time you receive a beautiful bouquet from him.

he’s the definition of down bad and he’s not at all ashamed to let you know. you had his heart in a chokehold before you even started dating can you imagine him now… like yo… what spell did you put on him.

must be the water he drinks because not even you know how reo got to the point he is at now.

bf that opens door for you, bf that understands the sidewalk rule and won’t have it any other way, bf that carries things you might need around - chapstick, hairtie, reo even has a change of shoes for you in his car just in case. and clothes!

bf that looks at you as if you put all the stars in the sky. bf who wakes up a little earlier just so he gets the chance to hold you, especially with how busy reo is. bf who admires you openly and freely.

‘don’t go where i can’t follow’ bf (he’s so dramatic).

reo is a mix between clingy and independent - he’s always open to spend time with you, but if it’s space you want, he’s more than ready to give it to you.

has no problems entertaining himself and not worrying about whatever you might be doing. he's not controlling and in fact, loves a partner who is independent too!

100% a gentleman so expect a lot of gifts from him. never lets you pay- not that you’re complaining, but if you even think about fishing out your wallet, he’s grabbing both your wrists in one hand and tapping his card on the machine instead.

it’s a slow relationship, you’re both just trying to take your time to learn more about the other before things begin speeding up, and even though reo has been wanting you- wanting this for the longest time, he’s content with the pace. so long as he has you.

the photos of you two are INCREDIBLE. mirror selfies are a must, but you’re definitely the kind of relationship that’s more on the private side. reo makes sure that your face is hidden save for side-profiles, silhouettes, or ¾ angles, but it’s just for media peace of mind that he was taken.

that said, if you’re going to an event together, he absolutely loves showing you off. your ultimate hype man.

also loves bringing you up whenever he can. ‘how’s practice?’ ‘oh amazing, i love going home to y/n.’, ‘what’s your favourite cheat day meal?’ ‘one of y/n’s childhood favourite dishes, i have like five plates in one sitting’, ‘where’d you get this from? it’s nice’ ‘y/n saw it in a magazine’.

asks you to move in with him five months into the relationship when you both realise you’re over way too often. when there are too many trinkets of yours left around his penthouse that his heart aches at your absence, yearning for your presence through little things that are attached to you.

reo gets so ecstatic when you accept, practically scoops you into his arms, unable to contain his excitement and glee.

ABSOLUTELY the couple that’s like ‘your secret is safe with me… and my partner!’

gossip sessions are a weekly occurrence. every saturday you sit down and begin revealing everything. doesn’t matter if you have a party to attend to, you will be gossiping at the party or leaving early to have it at home. you could literally be having a shower and reo would join, seated atop the toilet seat whilst rambling and you’d listen intently.

nothing comes in between your gossip sessions!!! don't even think about interrupting. nagi is more than welcome to join, he knows quite a bit of tea himself so ;) the more the merrier in his case.

chigiri, bachira, and isagi are also all-time favourites. ALL THREE of them are nosy ass fuckers and cannot keep their mouths shut.

it’s like the second you walk into his apartment, he’s giving you a kiss in greeting before sitting you down on the couch, hands and legs pressed together and he begins with ‘i have more to tell you about otoya and his fling’.

and you immediately throw your stuff away and lean into his couch, ready to listen.

speaking of parties, you would absolutely be that couple. the ones who always look flawless and will never be caught lacking !!!!!!!

he’s so proud to be able to walk by your side; that he’s the one who gets to hold you and show you off. so proud in fact, that he never likes to stray too far from you.

could be doing shots with bachira and stumbles around to find you when he’s done. you have the time of your life filming him in this drunken state.

definitely had the ‘only my partner is allowed to touch me’ conversation with him once.

reo is the definition of all five love languages, there is not one of them that he does not like - words of affirmation? absolutely. a must. . physical touch? he’s not ashamed to be needy. gift giving? who do you think he is? acts of service? loves doing things for you and vice versa. quality time? can never get enough of it.

so yeah. sticking to his ‘thing’ about being a chameleon, he’s very adaptable and willing to listen to your needs.

(i’m going to throttle him he is so perfect)

also reo just really really adores taking care of you- those he loves in general too, but especially you because you’re at the top of his list of favourite people (suck it, nagi)

takes care of you and loves doing so too. whenever you’re sick, he’s at your beck and call 24/7. if he has a meeting or practice to attend, you have to literally force him out of the apartment, threatening him to go but as soon as he returns, he’s back at your side, probably came back with a bunch of things for you as well.

if you take care of him though? goodness he’s ready to pop the question even though you’ve never even discussed marriage.

suddenly cough medicine is a lot easier to drink if you’re the one offering it to him, and the soup you made him must have super healing properties because he thinks he can jump up and run a few hundred laps (goodness reo, please, sit your ass back down and rest).

OKAY HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE: reo never learnt how to drive because he’s always had a chauffeur, but since dating you, he’s had to get a licence lMFAOOOO let you pick out his car too xoxo such a considerate boyfriend 😣

he suggested as a joke to get a personalised number plate and even though he was clearly goofing around to make you laugh, you couldn’t help but sense there was some sort of truth in his statement… just a slither.

also reo’s definitely the slow-dance in the living room kind of guy like… not a lot can change my mind on this.

you could literally be putting away the dishes and he’d drag you by the wrist into the living room- he bought a vinyl player just so he could turn on some romantic songs and slow dance with the love of his life.

he’s not a good dancer btw.

HE LOVES SHOPPING WITH YOU. 1000/10 BOYFRIEND TO GO SHOPPING WITH, doesn’t mind being your personal coathanger when browsing and also doesn’t mind carrying any bags you may have.

it’s cause reo loves shopping too. loves it even more if you think about him whilst shopping. you could go buy some home appliances and if you returned with the silliest hat with bunny ears and he’d wear it for the next few hours.

return with (expensive) necklaces of each other’s initials and reo is never taking his off, proud to wear the letter of your name around his neck at all times.

takes it off during practice though because if he broke it then goodness is he going to go emo.

no date with him is a boring date! partly because he’s a considerate and thoughtful person who plans everything out, but also because reo’s company is a fun one to have. every moment with him is fun (except when he’s checking his stocks. you’re kinda left to just wait for him to finish).

(that’s also an ick- that he checks his stocks on dates but whatever 😒he still gives you attention though so it’s fine)

adores going out and staying in! prefers going out though just so he can show you off but also hates going out because he loves to see you dressed up only for him. he’s a perfect paradox.

speaking of staying in, off days with reo are very domestic. you both promise to use this as a work-free day, reo can’t check his business statistics or stock patterns and you’re not allowed to answer any calls or emails. he is allowed to workout though and you have quite a bit of fun blatantly admiring him. you're too comfortable with each other at this stage to get embarrassed.

but other than that, the day is just spent lounging around and doing nothing- a nice reset from how hectic both your lives are.

“there are still some chocolate chips left. wanna snack?” you ask once you put a tray of cookies in the oven, going over to see how many pieces were remaining in the bag.

reo hums, wrapping his arms around your figure, his sturdy chest meeting your back as he plays with the fabric of your shirt. “sure. might as well finish them.”

“bet you can’t catch 10 in a row with your mouth.”

“okay. bet.”

he ends up catching 12 successfully and the rest of the waiting time is spent with you throwing chips into his mouth. there’s a heap of chocolate on the floor but neither of you really mind when the home is warmed with laughter and giggles.

when you wait for the cookies to cool, you somehow end up on the counter with reo in between your legs, holding you closely to him whilst making out to pass the time. the cookies are cold when you get to them.

reo’s jealous. like very jealous. and a little (lot) possessive - do you see the way he is with nagi… c’mon.

but it comes from a place of good intentions, he's genuinely just in disbelief that he managed to bag someone like you (as if he's not a one in a million too)

he’s very into hickies ;> doesn’t matter if it’s on you or on him, it feeds into his possessiveness all the same. ok next headcanon.

reo’s got a little bit of an ego to him (he’s a leo. ofc he does) so he secretly loves it when people fawn over him, but not just exclusively you.

which has been the cause for quite a bit of arguments between you where you were uncomfortable because of the way someone was treating reo and he’d dismiss your concerns, stubbornly rooted in the belief that you knew that you were different. definitely thinks that his love and adoration for you makes it obvious that you’ll always be superior to anyone else. which, you are, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt when you don’t see him brush off anyone.

genuinely doesn’t see the issue with this, even when the media is being invasive and speculating too much.

it’s loud.

it’s so very loud, tormenting you as the hurricane of your thoughts can’t seem to quiet down, rattling even stronger as you keep scrolling through the ‘#reo mikage’ tag that was currently trending. each time you see the pictures, your chest constricts even more.

unbelievable how a bunch of pixels could have this much of an effect over you. how your phone mockingly presents several photos of reo and one of japan’s golden models spending time together at multiple events, the headlines only worsening rising assumptions. she’s all over him in each photo, whether it be decked out in formal gear at a promotional event, after a dior runway where reo was invited backstage by the creative director, or- most recently, at a brunch he was invited to by blue lock friends, she seems to love invading his personal space.

the worst part is that he doesn’t seem bothered at all by it.

you know reo and you know how much he valued your presence in his life. you know that before each event, he asked you how his outfit looked and if you approved. before each event, he threw a mini-tantrum over you're inability to accompany him to each one. that he only stopped whining when you promised that you’d be waiting for him after each one.

but you don't know the feeling of betrayal that settles in your gut and it terrifies you.

“y/n?” comes a voice from down the hallway, one that causes your breath to hitch in your throat, all words lodging themselves in your windpipe. reo’s head appears from behind the bedroom door frame and he smiles widely upon seeing you, immediately walking over so he could lean down and place a kiss on your forehead.

it doesn’t do much to stop the tornado in your brain.

“are we going to watch the latest episode or what?” asks the purple-haired, whose doe eyes are looking at you so innocently- so lovingly.

“we are,” you whisper, voice slightly broken and ragged, turmoil settling itself crystal clear in the heavy air of your shared bedroom.

reo notices your pained tone and immediately looks at you with concern gleaming in his eyes. “what’s wrong?”

so innocent. so ignorant. you wonder if it was appropriate to shatter his purity. but a relationship rooted in honesty will have more positives than negatives and even if it seems like being open with him will be detrimental, you should fix the cracks now before it worsens; splits apart too much to the point of it being unfixable.

“pictures of you and a model are circulating online,” you mutter, scouring through what’s left of your sanity to express what you’re feeling, but you can tell you’re already failing through the perplexed scrunch of his eyebrows. “and y’know, it just got me-”

“-why are you looking at them?”

you flinch at his defensiveness. “wh-what?”

“you know that they’re just some pictures, don’t you? it’s not that big of a deal.”

something’s telling you that this conversation won’t progress how you want it to so you give up, dropping your shoulders in defeat. “okay, sure.”

he’s not happy with your response. “what? what did i do?”

“it just feels so… horrible looking at these,” you mutter, dragging a hand over your face. “whatever. let’s just go watch the episode or something.”

“let’s not. are you seriously pissed right now? over some photos of me and someone else? i didn’t think you’d be this insecure.”

“i’m not insecure!”

“yes you are! you’re getting angry and upset over me being seen with someone else as if you know they’re nothing more than just a friend! am i not allowed to hangout and be seen with whoever i want?”

“it’s not a matter of being seen with them, reo! it’s about how okay you seem being that close with someone! she’s practically all up in your personal space and you’re okay with it!”

“why wouldn’t i be okay with it? you’re the only person i actually care about for it to mean something.”

“that’s not how it works!” you exclaim abruptly, curling your hands into fists. “it’s so disrespectful seeing this, it’s clear that she has no respect for our relationship and our status as a couple, can’t you see?”

“why should we care what she thinks? everyone else knows. ‘s all that matters.”

“sure, but she’s actively trying to pursue you! and you’re not doing anything to solidify any boundaries against it! do you know how demeaning that feels? especially against someone who is so well-known by your fans too.”

reo narrows his eyes. “so this is a conversation about insecurity-”

“you’re not listening to me!” you cut him off, trying to maintain your composure despite the way anger and frustration brewed freely in your stomach, threatening to spill over. “i’m not insecure! i’m upset because you’re not valuing our relationship publicly, and as a result, it’s stirring up so many unsolicited assumptions online!”

“you shouldn’t care about them because i only have eyes for you, fuck what the internet is saying.”

“no- that’s,” you ball your fists even tighter, “that’s not the solution to this problem!”

“then maybe you should just get over it!”

“is asking you to be a little more assertive about brushing off people like this too much?”

“it’s natural, y/n! these people just want me for my fame and reputation! there’s no point brushing them off when they’ll just continue this shit,” there’s a hint of insincerity in his tone, and from the way he’s evading your request makes your stomach churn.

rubbing your temples, you decide to surrender. “fine. if you just want people to fawn over you then they can. just, leave me out of the picture.”

swiftly standing up from where you were seated on the bed, you’re even faster brushing past the purple-haired, shutting the door behind you with a noncommittal slam.

realisation pours over him like cold water and he’s awoken into action. immediately, he turns to rip open the door and rushes into the hallway, panicked as fear strikes him like a lightning bolt. it’s like the rational side of him had finally woken up after a night of dormancy and he curses himself for its horrible timing as he prays he can make it to stop you in time.

reo feels stupid. so, so stupid.

you’re in the living room already when he catches up, phone in hand as you quickly try to make a beeline for your shoes before your boyfriend can stop you.

unfortunately for you, you’re too ambitious, and reo manages to step in front of you, hindering your exit. the anxiety he’s feeling is expressed clearly in his eyes and devastation is plastered all over his face, a sight that makes you stop in your tracks.

“where are you going?” he whimpers, no louder than a whisper.

you glance down at your phone to see the time. 10:41. “away. i need to cool my head.”

“you can do that here, can’t you?” he’s trying to sound sensible, really, he is, but the fear of losing you is too strong that his voice cracks. “i’m sorry, i’m really sorry, i was being stupid and i wasn’t listening to you, i realise that now-”

“-it’s too late for that,” you grumble, trying to sneak past him only to be stopped by a hand on your shoulder, one that you brush off. “don’t touch me!”

only a few, simple words yet they hurt reo like spears to his heart. his palms itch with the need to hold you because being able to feel you would remind him that you’re here, that you haven’t left just yet. that reo still has a chance to fix the mess he just created.

“i’m sorry, i’m really sorry, you're right.”

you probably don’t want to hear it, but he grovels nonetheless, contracting his fingers to stop them from reaching out to you. he doesn’t want to make you feel even more disrespected than he already has tonight, especially when you so clearly stated that you didn’t want to be touched.

“don’t go,” the purple-haired pleads weakly. “we can figure this out.”

“so now you want to talk about it?” you ask, all ounce of pettiness you had left melting into your tone. you to cross your arms. “i’m tired reo, and i need some time.”

“i’ll give you time, space, whatever you need, just please don’t leave.”

the penthouse is so quite and devoid of its usual vibrancy, the one that your relationship brings to the home.

reo doesn't want to think about what the place would be like if you leave. he doesn't want to think about what his life would be like if you leave, so he repeats 'please' over and over again, scrambled with some apologies here and there as he leans closer to you.

the urge to be as close as you'll allow him is irresistible.

the breath you exhale is shaky and you can’t look him in the eye as you think about what to do next, gnawing your lip in contemplation. what captures your attention is the feeling of his fingers ghosting over your hands, causing you to glance back at him with a surprised expression.

traces of love frame his expression and he’s looking at you like he’s savouring this moment, as if it'll be his last few with you, but he can only plead and pray that that's not the case. desperately, he succumbs to the force of his affection for you with the light thud of bone meeting floor. it’s a sound that makes you cringe briefly before reo experimentally takes your hands in his, waiting for a reaction.

there is none.

so he holds on to you like a lifeline and your resolve crumbles, fury and irritation melting away a lot quicker than you would have liked it to. it’s ridiculous what reo’s capable of.

“stay,” pleads the purple-haired, resting his forehead in your hands as he tightens his grip. “please.”

in front of you is a man on his knees. not just any man, but a world-class soccer player who came from 24k gold, real diamonds, and an unfathomable amount of trust funds. yet, something's telling you that he's willing to give it all up for you.

“reo,” your call of his name is broken and entirely wobbly, but he looks up at you nonetheless, eye shining as he waits for your next move. waits for either a strike of the palm or an affectionate kiss, both of which he’d readily accept.

neither happen as you sink down to be eye-level with him, hoping to help him stand up but like a tidal wave, he consumes you, wrapping an arm around your waist with a strength that indicated he had no intention of letting up. “reo,” you delicately repeat, holding yours and his weight up with one hand whilst the other goes to play with his hair. “i’ll stay.”

the sigh of relief that he releases causes his whole body to shudder. “thank you,” he whispers.

you’ll talk about your problems soon, but for now? you'll continue holding him as he silently weeps, hands clutching your sides like you'll disappear and slip away from his grasp.

yeah. i think reo would be the type of person to get too overwhelmed by his own emotions and ego that he doesn’t consider the other party's feelings, but the moment that he realises he’s fucked up, it hits him like a truck.

has abandonment issues (from nagi) that he never addressed and as a result, has a huge fear of losing you.

that said, this argument ^ happened within the early stages of moving in together so this was probably the first big argument that really established how important communication is. sure reo may be confident and assured, but he’s self-aware and more than willing to change and constantly better himself, especially if it’s for you.

back to your regularly scheduled hc, reo doesn’t spend a lot of time on his phone, so he’s not very active on social media. he’s too busy attending to his stocks, reading business books, and spending time with you to care about the internet, so a lot of drama that circulates around online doesn’t reach him until two weeks later.

not that he cares LOL.

speaking of social media, here's what his private account looks like!

yourlocalfinancebroreo close up that the love of my life took

yn: smash ╰┈➤ epicgamerseishiroooh pls no horniness on the priv ╰┈➤ yourlocalfinancebroreo hmu cutie xx ╰┈➤ epicgamerseishiroooh guys pls ╰┈➤ yn nagi what the 😭😭

OH AND he’s so interested in all of your interests. listens intently and rambles passionately, he truly is just perfect :(

anyways, encourages anything you want to do and is often the one who helps you make the terrifying jump. reo supports you so much in your day-to-day and whatever achievements you accomplish, no matter how big or small, he wants to hear about it from you.

never shy away from being honest with him!!!!

also because the support you show him makes him so happy every time. whether it’s showing up to a soccer match and cheering him on to dropping off some tea and a platter of fruit when he’s stuck in front of his monitor for too long looking at big numbers, he wants to reciprocate this energy and make sure you know just how special you make him feel.

the whole world could be praising him yet none of it could compare to when you do it.

y/n and me vs the world forever type of beat when it comes to you two.

yeah. i think that’s all i have for now. so, to sum it up: PERFECT, INCREDIBLE, AMAZING, ALL YOU COULD EVER ASK FOR boyfriend. give it up for mikage reo everyone <3

#reo mikage x reader #reo x reader #mikage reo x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #reo mikage #mikage reo #reo fluff #reo x reader fluff #blue lock

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joelsmochi · 2 years ago

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Joel Miller — There You Go

warnings: post-apocalypse, pre-ellie, age change + gap (joel is 53, reader is 33), smut (minors dni), unprotected piv sex + creampie, outdoor/public sex, reader has a thing for joel’s hands, joel has a thing for reader being a pillow princess, joel also has a thing for praising reader, joel loves spoiling reader what more can i say, definitely ooc joel, pet names (baby, pretty girl, doll, etc.), dirty talk, vanilla sex (? should this even count as a warning LMFAO), possessive!joel (only a little it's kinda cute), fluffy!joel, probably an over-usage of the word “pretty”, i always lazy proofread so there may be some typos <3 wc: 4k a/n: there are so many mean!joel or rough!joel smuts (don’t get me wrong i be eating that shit up!) so i thought i’d do something a lil different & give y’all a sweet and endearing joel smut <3 this is lowkey inspired by the scene from jason’s lyric + inspired by a comment i saw where someone said pedro/joel would definitely talk you through it .-.

masterlist

“The sun feels so good,” I think aloud. “Come lie down! You should try it!” I glance over at Joel who is cleaning the pot that we just ate dinner out of.

“You’re gonna get sunburnt,” is all he says. I don’t respond, enjoying the warm blanket the sun is providing. A few minutes later I hear him sit next to me which makes him block the sun from my face so I open my eyes and smile up at him.

He and I aren’t that close, but it never hurt to try and grow closer with him—sometimes he’d give in and laugh with me, but most of the time it was like talking to a brick wall that occasionally grunted at you or rolled its eyes. I understand though. I’m sure he lost someone he loved so deeply and that kind of shit changes you. I’ve lost more people than I can count and no matter how much you try to prepare for it, you’re just never ready. That’s why I always try to get him to smile, I want him to know that someone still cares about him even if he doesn’t care for anyone anymore.

But I know he does. I know for a fact that he cares about me. He never let’s me hold him when we’re trying to sleep but the second I hear his breaths deepen I always wrap my arms around him and he shuffles his back deeper into my body. I loved the way he was too emotionally calloused to warm up to me because it makes me want to fight harder for him which reinforces the fact that I care about him.

“Thank you for dinner, you sure know how to whip up some twenty-year-old ravioli,” I joke.

He just nods and looks at the trees in front of us.

“How old were you when this all started? Thirty-two?”

“Thirty-three,” he corrects.

“Hmm, same age I am now.”

“Ain’t that a bitch?” He huffs, clearly exhausted from our hike. I sit up in front of him and grab his hands; he tries to pull back while giving me a dirty look so I just grip him harder. “What are ya doing?” He asks.

“Holding your hands,” I say with a cheeky tone and a grin.

“Why?”

“Because I think about touching ‘em all the time,” I tease.

He takes a few breaths, watching to see if I break my smile. “You think… About my hands?”

“Mm-hmm,” I hum, “I think about your fingers.” I hold one of his hands up to my face and analyze his digits, memorizing the cuts and bruises and wrinkles along them. Even though my words are true, I still played as if I were joking endearingly, but the more I looked at his fingers the more complicated it got. I feel my nipples perk up underneath my tank top from the cool breeze and… Well, from being horny. “I think you’re a cool guy,” I say after looking at him and dropping his hand.

“Why?”

Shrugging, I say, “Because you take care of me. You teach me a lot.”

His eyebrows rise and force wrinkles onto his forehead. “I teach you a lot?”

I hum again, nodding slowly and blinking even slower not able to hide my true intentions anymore. “Yeah, you… Taught me how to use a gun safely… You taught me how to get past an infected… You taught me how to hunt a buck.”

“Shit your parents shoulda taught ya when your were a kid,” he retorts, letting me know he doesn’t see my desperation.

“Maybe,” I whisper. I carefully move onto my hands and knees, slowly crawling closer to him. “Maybe I was just meant to have you as my teacher.” The look in his cold eyes shifted yet he continues to leave me confused. I may be overstepping here, but his lack of resistance only urges me to push further and further. I bat my eyelashes at him and reach my nose just in front of his. “You could even teach me how to fuck.”

His eyes bat shut and he exhales as if he were committing the worst of sins. His eyes reopen after a few quiet seconds and they flicked between both of my own eyes. His cold irises were now warm with dilated pupils and his pulse is beating so strong I could see it pump against the skin along his collarbones. I glance at his lips more than once and press one of my hands to his thigh.

“Is this okay?” It comes out shakier than I intended it to as my breathing feels much heavier than before. Joel makes me feel so small but in the best way possible. It’s as if he were my sworn protector and I could always count on him to be there for me. Like a lovestruck twenty-year-old, I cling to him in my most desperate of times even though he pretends to hate it. I could tell he likes having someone to take care of, and I love that he takes care of me.

Hesitating, he nods and carefully reaches for my forearms.

“You sure?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he whispers sounding more desperate than me.

I can’t help but simper at both his confirmation and touch, finally touching my nose to his. A knot twists deeply into my stomach, and my chest fills with waves of nervousness. “I’ve only done it a couple times,” I whisper.

“That’s okay,” he hums against my lips, his chest rumbling at the low vibrations from his voice. “I’ll teach you.”

I snicker and giggle at his words earning the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen on him in the time I’ve known him, then he presses his lips to mine so softly I thought I was imagining it. The smack of his warm mouth dazes me momentarily and I grasp onto his shoulders before completely falling into his touch. He lies back onto the blanket and encapsulates my body with his thick legs and firm arms. He whines into my mouth and holds onto my waist as if I would fall apart if he let go.

I pull away after a while to look down at him, wondering how we should start. It’s been well over a decade since my last time and I don’t want to disappoint Joel.

“Lie down,” he instructs while admiring my flustered look.

I do as he says and allow him to take my shoes off, which he does so carefully. I always pegged Joel to be a bit rougher, and eager for it, especially after a long time of waiting.

His fingertips nuzzle the hairs along my calves and thighs up until they reach the hems of my shorts and this is where my expectations become true; he wraps his fingers into the folds and tugs gently, probably trying to pace himself, but the rise and fall of my chest catch his attention and his patience runs out. He yanks my button undone and doesn’t even bother taking my shorts off, he just slips his hand inside to feel around. I prop myself up with my elbows to get a better view of everything. He strokes the stubble along my pelvis, then around my clit, dipping down to my entrance and slightly parting my lips to see how ready I am.

I inhale at the feeling of his warm finger coming into contact with my cool precum, locking eyes with him to watch the subtleties in his face change at every new feeling he notices. He just barely whispers, “Fuck,” when he rises his finger to my clit. He gives it a gentle stroke and watches me breathe slowly for him. “You’re doing so good, staying still like that for me,” he praises. I bite my lip and confidently smile at him. He starts to rub soft circles onto my skin, eliciting a gentle coo from me. The space between my eyebrows tightens at the relief and my eyes close softly. “Fuck, look at’ya… So eager for me already, huh?” I look at him and nod. “Tell me how bad you want it, doll.”

“Do you remember the night we first met?” I ask between moans. “And I had that cut on my arm that you had to clean and wrap? All I could do was stare at your fingers and—and imagine how good they would feel rubbing my clit the way you’re doing right now. It was the first night I had touched myself in almost a year.”

He squints at me sharing this information and rewarding me with more pressure from his fingers. “And how often do you touch yourself now?”

“In the past two years I’ve known you?” I sheepishly ask; he nods and halts his moving fingers. Desperately wanting him to keep going, I shout, “Almost anytime I get left alone for longer than ten minutes.”

“Since we’re being honest…” He leans down to my ears to whisper, “…Sometimes I leave you alone to touch myself as well.” He takes his hand out of my shorts to slide them off of me.

He looks around the trees, and I do the same to make sure no one living or infected is around; once we’re sure it’s clear he sits to remove his boots which I laugh when it starts to take a long time. I reach for his shirt buttons, undoing them carefully as a few were hanging literally by a thread. I push his flannel shirt off of his arms while he finally kicks his boots off, then he hovers his head over mine and just barely pushes his pants down to reveal his swollen cock. I reach for it despite my intimidation at the girth but he stops me, guiding me to lie down again.

“Joel?”

“Yes, baby?” He asks against the skin above my collarbone whilst placing lovely kisses all over my neck.

“It’s really big,” I say tensely, laughing at myself.

He gives me a juicy kiss and shares a winsome look with me. “I’ll be gentle if you want,” he promises. I barely smile, not realizing how harshly my nails are digging into his arm. I give him a slight nod and spread my legs slowly for him. “I promise I’ll be real nice to your pretty pussy.”

I lift my head up to kiss him again and he shifts to rest his body weight on top of me with his hand reaching between our bodies to line his tip up with my entrance. His tongue folds over my lips and into my mouth restlessly and I feel his hips push forward against me. I prepare myself for the discomfort, squeezing my eyes tightly and pulling away from the kiss to brace myself.

It’s difficult to breathe with my ribcage pushing against him and I feel him leave a trail of kisses along my jawline in an attempt to soothe me. I constantly squeeze around his thick cock, trying to ignore the slight burning and get used to the pain faster. He notices how long I remain tense and anxious, so he taps my cheek gently with his fingers and I open my eyes to look at him which relaxes almost every nerve in my body.

“Just relax, honey, okay? Can you do that for me?” My eyes roll to the back of my head as his raspy voice continues to beg me to relax. “Hmm? Can you relax for me, baby girl?” He pulls back a little and begins to slowly pump himself in and out of me, chuckling as he watches my body actively relaxing around and beneath him. “There you go… There you go… Here.” He adjusts his knees to be flush against the back of my thighs and moves my arms and legs to wrap around his back. “How’s this?”

I wait for him to start moving again, noticing the difference in closeness. “Yes!” I hiss. I feel his hand pop my boobs out of the top of my tank top and I look to his fingers to watch them rub against the sewn-in rose in the middle of the shirt, but soon enough his hand cups my boob and gives it a delicate squeeze. I notice my pussy get wetter at the steady pace he is going at, feeling the curve of his cock hit the deeper parts of me.

“That feel good, baby?”

“Yes, Joel,” I moan. I slide the straps of my shirt off of my arms to get a better grip on him making him smile at the now bunched-up fabric around my waist. All I can do is moan and roll my eyes back and forth at his cock filling me up repeatedly. With my thighs trembling around his hips, my nails digging into his back, and my back arching deeper into the ground, he lifts his upper half off of me more than likely to see me—all of me.

He drives his hips faster, not fully entering inside of me but using the curve of his shaft to his advantage. As my hands flail around either gripping the sheet or his arms, I accidentally dig my knees into his stomach, and I can tell it’s hurting him but he doesn’t stop.

“Come on, baby,” he grunts, somehow managing to go even faster, “cum for me, pretty girl, I can feel it—oh, look at’cha!”

I whine at the ticklish feeling of his tip rubbing against my g-spot, feeling sudden shocks in my nerves from my stomach to my feet. I feel my muscles stop squeezing around him and start pushing against him as my orgasm creeps up. Joel hunches over to pop one of my nipples into his mouth adding waves of electricity to swim through the rest of my body.

“Joel, I—“

“Shh, shh shh shh,” he mumbles against my breast. “Look at me, darlin’. Hold onto me.” My fingers wrap into his curls and I watch his eyes trail over my face. I feel myself fall over the edge and into my orgasm, and his words seem to only exist to intensify this burst of energy. “God, look at you cumming for me—oh, my God, I can feel it," he repeats. "I can feel you cumming, it feels so fucking good."

“Yeah?” I whimper. “Fuck, please don’t stop!” He grunts and gets a bit more sloppy with his thrusts which help ride out the rest of my orgasm. I release his hair and drop my legs down next to his, feeling soreness spreading throughout my thighs from them being stretched. “Do you want to switch?” I ask after seeing how tired he is.

He pretty much pouts and shakes his head, cupping my face in one of his hands. “No, baby. I wanna take care of you,” he says. “You look so pretty in the sun.”

I blush to thank him, then take his scruffy face into my hands and give him a few kisses until they turn into our tongues dancing together. I moan at the taste of his skin, pushing my hips down to get his shaft deeper inside of me.

He listens to my body and instead of thrusting he rocks his hips after resting some of his weight on me again. I feel the layers of sweat from both of us stick his skin to mine but we just ignore it. All I care to focus on are his groans and the way his cock fits so perfectly inside of me.

“I was made just for you,” I moan, reaching out to run my hands along the hair on his chest.

He shoves one of my legs up on his shoulder, bending forward to somehow fuck me even deeper. “You were made just for me?” He asks, kissing the inside of my knee.

I mewl out, cursing at how smoothly his hips continue to roll in between my thighs. “Yes, Joel!” I shout when he shoves his dick all the way inside of me, stopping once he presses against my depths. “My pussy was made just for you!”

I watch his pretty eyes roll under his twitching eyelids, and he whimpers. He actually fucking whimpers. I gasp at his shaft throbbing inside of me and cradle the back of his head.

He lifts himself to his knees again, forces my legs to spread apart, and pulls out. “Fuck, baby,” he groans with furrowed eyebrows. “You keep talking like that you’re gonna make me cum too fast.”

Grinning wide, I sit up and turn around to my hands and knees like earlier. I figured a change in position could help excite things a bit more, plus my ass is starting to hurt. I moan and giggle while I tauntingly wave my ass for him to grab. Instead, he yanks my knees back knocking me down to my stomach which admittedly hurt a little bit, but I didn’t care. I finally got to have Joel and that was all I needed.

He pushes my legs apart with his chest pressing against my back. I shudder at his warm breath on my sweat-covered cheek and ear, flinching when he nibbles on my lobe—not from pain, but surprise. He moves down to bite my shoulder, then my spine before I feel his hand push his thick cock back inside of me.

I kick my limp legs up to meet his wide thighs and lay my face against the ground. He fucks me like he’s desperate for me to know how strong he is, how weak he can get me. I arch my neck up for my lips to meet his chin; listening to his little whimpers has my entire body weak for him. I didn’t want the noises to stop, I don’t want him to stop.

“Oh, baby,” he whimpers some more, “you feel so good. S-oh good.” His breath is shaky as are his words.

“I want you to cum inside of me, Joel,” I beg before pecking his chin. I relax the arch in my neck to instead bury the back of my head into his shoulder. He stops for a few seconds to absorb my words, using this time to wrap his arms below and around my stomach. “I love the way you fuck me,” I whisper against his jaw. “You make me feel so good, baby.”

“That’s my job, honey,” he tells me, thrusting a couple of times. “Oh sh—oh my God,” he mewls. He bites my cheek which makes me giggle and turn my head to kiss him. He starts to drill in and out of me while our lips fold over each other, our moans and begs and whimpers falling out occasionally. I feel that bubble growing inside of me again just itching to be popped, and I completely crumble when he says, “You take my cock so good, princess, I know you got another one in ya.”

I can’t even speak whilst he wraps his strong hand around my neck to hold my head up rather than to choke me. I cry out his name shallowly and squeeze around him so tight I’m sure his cock started to ache. He curses into my neck, not letting up on my pussy one bit. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love it.

“You look so fucking pretty when I fuck you. Look at how helpless you are, fuck. You’re mine, pretty girl.”

“I love the way you fuck me, Joel,” I say breathlessly as my orgasm doesn’t let up.

“My sweet girl,” he coos in my ear. “Keep talking to me, mmm, I love hearing you beg for it.”

By this point, I am suffering from the pain of overstimulation, which I never thought could hurt so bad but feel so damn good at the same time. “You’re so good to me, Joel,” I tell him doubtlessly. “I want you to cum for me, please.” His body jerks a few times and it instills confidence in my tone. “I want you to use me… Use me to cum, please…”

“You want me to cum in that pretty pussy a’yours? Hmm?” He cuddles his face into my shoulder blade, striving to reach even deeper inside of me. “Turn around. I wanna see you,” he whispers; I turn around and he lifts me onto his lap, still standing on his knees. His burly forearms manage to hold me up enough for him to keep doing all of the work, but by this point, I was thankful for it with how much he’s worn me out. “You take my cock s’good. Look at your pretty face, your pretty little helpless face.”

I watch as he takes his lip between his teeth into his weeping mouth, breathless gasps leaving my own. He looks so majestic with how the sun casts subtle shadows along his face; his vulnerability coats the look in his eyes as his face begins to relax which tells ms he is close. His nails dig into my spine and he looks to me for reassurance.

I run my fingertips over Joel’s broad shoulders and blink slowly, drawing my tongue out to lick his lips briefly. “Can you cum for me, baby?” I ask softly.

“Yes,” he says, heavily nodding his head. “Anything for you, honey.” He kisses me swiftly, smiling at me and stroking my thumb over his cheekbone. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

We both moan out little praises against each other's faces and lips and sometimes kiss roughly. My chin burns from his stubble but I don’t pull away from him. I don’t want to. I just want to feel all of him.

He tells me he’s going to cum once more and I say, “Look at me, baby. Look at me when you cum.”

I hold his head still in my hands and rock my hips against his, but he stops me by pushing my hips into him and holding me there. I whine but allow it, cockily grinning at him when I feel his warm cum paint my walls. He is a whimpering mess, cowering his face to my chest. His body twitches underneath my legs and his hands fall to my ass, squeezing it enough to lift my hips up and back down a couple of times. Grunting when he finishes, he peels his face from my skin to smile down at me after lying me down carefully. He looks around for a moment before pulling out and laying next to me.

“Sorry, I got a little carried away,” he says, still out of breath.

I look over at him and twist to my side. “It’s okay. I know you like taking care of me.”

“Do I now?”

I nod and hum. “You’ll never say it, but I know you do.”

Joel also turns onto his side to stare at me. “I like taking care of you,” he admits with a hoarse voice. He reaches to pull my shirt straps back over my arms before covering my boobs, then grabs my panties to slide them up my legs but stops when he gets to my vulva just to place a kiss on it. He half-dresses himself before pulling my warm legs onto his lap; I sit up to get more comfortable and stare at his hands massaging my legs. “Your face is sunburnt,” he tells me.

I touch my cheekbone and flinch when I feel it is indeed sunburnt. “Dammit.”

“Doll, I want ya to know that this doesn’t mean nothing to me. It isn’t nothing, I mean… It’s something… If you want it to be.”

“Something?” I question with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah…” He shrugs, looking back down at my legs. “If you want.”

I crawl into his lap, responding to him with a loving kiss. “I want you. Not something.”

“Oh, pretty girl…” He moves some hair from my face and bashfully smiles at me. “You already got me.”

#joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #tlou smut

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arcanegifs · 3 months ago

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On Gifmaking:

So season 2's coming soon, and I wanna reflect on making gifs ever since I came back to Tumblr. I can't believe it's been 2 years of making gifs for this show!!!!! Look at how large my folder is lmao

And those are JUST gifs lol

Anyways, over time, my style has changed, especially how I color edit Arcane gifs. I kind of strayed away from a stylized filter color into just something that looks a lot more "natural" and works with the original scene.

Initially, I thought I'd save time, but I ended up not using my old arcane preset PSDs and resulted to coloring almost every scene manually. So in the end, it takes even longer to make them HAHAHA. It takes around an hour and a half for me to make a 10 gif set, basically. It also helps that I have a photography background, so coloring/editing is a lot simpler for me.

Here's a lil before and after of a dark scene (hiiiii viiiiiii <3)

Arcane is a REALLY dark show, but it goes for most of TV shows. Many of them are darker and harder to bring up the lights to make stuff look nice as gifs. Some people don't like to color their gifs, and that's okay. I personally just like color edited gifs more.

I've started learning how to upscale scenes myself, so that I have a better resolution and leeway to make things look "HD" more.

If you're wondering why my stuff look so "crisp", it's a combination of the scene's lighting, my sharpening settings on Photoshop and knowing how to upscale everything into 4k resolution. Of course, doing this needs an extremely beefy pc, which I am very lucky to own one.

Here's another before and after of a nicely lit scene. These are much, MUCH easier to do than all the darkly lit scenes because of shadows and lighting (caitlyn kiramman truly the rizzler <3)

I've been very lucky to be able to essentially take a nice, long break for like a month doing nothing after being so damn busy for the last year and a half, so it's nice that I was able to make a ton of gifs and be chronically online for a short while LMAO.

It's been so fun! But it's time to go back to reality lmao. I closed reqs for a bit because I was just so swamped with them the last few days, and I wanted to gif scenes that I like this time. I've done like 2 weeks worth of gifs. And you will see Vi a lot bc she's on my mind a lot heehee 🥰what can I say, she's such a babe <3

Here's a lil sneak peek, just look at herrrrrrr 🥰🥰🥰 and yeah, 4k upscaled resolution really helps making these tight crops, it's why i never went back to 1080p lol. It's how I’m able to make zoomed in gifs look decent (like the kirammountains gifset lol)

Thank you so much for all the support, likes, reblogs, and the nice tags you guys give. Yes, I can see and read all of them (both the nice and nasty ones lmao). If you have nothing good to say about the characters or my editing style, or anything related to the edit, please I beg you, just write a separate text post about it <3 If you have nothing nice to say, don't say it in my edits.

Lastly, thank you to the people who share my stuff outside the site and credit the blog and link them back here. I see you and appreciate you <3 You guys don't know how much I appreciate shoutouts and link backs, because people stealing my gifs is something that I've dealt with after making them for like a decade.

Tumblr is sadly not what it used to be in the 2013-2015 era. There’s definitely less activity as time goes by, so I appreciate all the people who credit and link back to this sideblog. Unfortunately, there’s more people who just repost them and it gets wayyy much more traction in other soc med sites. Yeah, ofc I get a lil jealous, but eh what can you do 😞 can’t really stop em.

I also don’t like putting watermarks because it personally looks tacky to me, but I understand why other people do it.

Anyways, if you reached at the end of this lil rambling of mine, thank you! I sadly might be busy during November because that's usually busy season, but I'll try to make time for making gifs of Season 2! Thank you and enjoy your stay on this lil sideblog :)

#personal tag #arcane #long post #nothing i just have free time rn and i wanna spend time on it rambling and yes im tagging the public tag lol #goodbye leave hello real life again

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unplugfromthesource · 3 months ago

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Body Glitter

✨About: After catching your boyfriend cheating on you at a night club, you come into contact with a man that changes your life all in one night.

🚬Josh Kiszka x reader

🪩Word Count: 4k

🍸Warnings: mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, angst, crying, cursing, yelling (sorry if I missed any 🌝)

🎤Authors Note: I hope everyone enjoys it! It took me a lot of rewriting but it’s here! if the formatting is messy- my apologies🩷

🎶playlist:

⭐️⭐️⭐️

The night almost didn’t feel real. Maybe it was a mix between the undeniable amount of times you saw guys checking you out, or the cheap liquor coursing through your veins, but the second you saw your boyfriend of 2 years cheating on you with some dumb blonde in the sea of people, you lost it. Your, now ex, boyfriend raved on and on about this small nightclub in Nashville called, The Ether, saying they had the best drinks and the best DJ in all of Tennessee. You followed him up on this request, slipping on a silk mini-dress with sheer black tights, bows adorning the back side, and a pair of simple black heels. You let your hair fall into loose curls as you finish up your makeup and walk hand in hand with your boyfriend into The Ether.

The air felt thick, lights flashed and glitter sparkled as you pushed through the people. You let him lead you to a small bar on the far side of the room, and you smile as you lock eyes with the bartender, tattoos running up both arms and being stopped by a tight-fitting black t-shirt.

“Can I get a cosmo?” You shout over the thumping music as you lean forward slightly on the bar. All it took was one nod from the man for him to turn around and begin shaking up your drink. The man silently took your boyfriend's order and you followed him back into the crowd of people, drinks in hand.

It felt routine to you. Dance for a few songs, find a bathroom, fix any slight imperfections, go back, drink, dance, repeat. It went on like this for about 2 hours, time flowing like a river and your body getting freckled with glitter upon each move to the restroom from the other partygoers.

I smiled to myself in the mirror as I took in my appearance. My hair had been frizzy from dancing, and silver and gold glitter was sprinkled everywhere, my lipstick was nearly gone, and my feet were starting to hurt. I looked behind me in the mirror and watched as another girl fixed up her makeup on her phone camera. I turned without a second thought.

“Do you have the time?” I said softly as her glazed eyes drifted over to me.

“It's 12:47,” she said lazily, the alcohol running off her tongue.

I smiled as a thank you and silently returned to the big warehouse-looking room. As I walked through the crowd the scene unfolded in front of me so quickly I didn’t have time to question if it was happening. There, amongst the group of people and hundreds of other bodies pushed into here, my boyfriend stood happily as he locked faces with some blonde whose extensions were too clear to see. My face grew hot as tears filled my eyes and ran down my cheeks as I turned to leave. I walked quickly, the tears only running faster as I pushed open the metal door and walked out into a back alleyway. Sobs racked through my body as I walked out onto the sidewalk, earning stares I couldn’t bother to care about.

I felt helpless. The man I loved, the man I saw the rest of my life with, so easily just dropped all we had for a quick fuck. I crouched down on the curb and rested my head on my hands as I debated my next move. Go back and confront him like a psycho bitch or… go home. I sighed as I reached out next to me, going to grab my phone. Fuck he had my phone. I let out a frustrated scream as it all came together; It was nearly 1 am, my boyfriend just cheated on me, I was slightly tipsy, and I had no form of communication. Just as I moved to stand, a pair of black dress shoes with small scruffs on the tips appeared next to me.

Slowly, I dragged my eyes up his body, taking in his outfit and appearance. He wore semi-tight black suit pants, hugging his hips in all the right spots…it was followed by a black button-down linen shirt, leaving only the bottom buttoned. A triangle pendant hung on his toned chest as it beamed in the light off his tanned skin. My eyes met his and I would be lying if I said he wasn't gorgeous. He had chocolate brown eyes that were ever so slightly sunken in, three white lines dragged out under each eye, soft, plump lips with a cigarette resting between them, well-kept facial hair, and a head full of curls that made out to be a mullet, but not in a Western way. While he didn’t seem to stand that tall, he felt it. The way he dressed in rich clothing, the toned body, the way he so confidently stood over me as the lust spilled off him.

I locked eyes with him as he took a drag of his cigarette before removing it from his lips and exhaling slowly whilst looking down at you.

“Why ya crying pretty girl?” he says cooly.

“Why do you care?” I said a bit harsher than I meant to.

“Cause you're too pretty to cry,” he said crouching down next to me and placing the cigarette back into the side of his mouth “And I hate,” he said as he wiped a tear from my cheek “to see pretty girls cry.”

Silence filled the air as I looked over at him and then back down at my feet.

“My boyfriend cheated on me,” I said shakily as I felt more tears run down my face at the mere thought “brought me to some club, and then when I came back from the bathroom I caught him sucking faces with some dumb blond…” I say, my breathing heavy as I try to calm myself down in front of this random stranger.

Silently, he stood. While he didnt appear to be that tall, his demeanor and ego made him stand 6 '5.

“Come on,” he said coolly as he extended an arm down towards me. I grabbed it without a second thought and stood, holding onto his hand as he began to walk, dragging me along behind him.

“Where are we going?” I said curiously as I tried to match his pace.

“To have fun.”

“What's your name?”

“Josh.”

What a cute name for such a serious-looking man I thought to myself as I walked behind him.

“Josh what?”

“Kiszka.”

I smiled at him as he answered my plethora of questions, trying to act annoyed even though we both know he took me out for “fun”

“Are you going to ask me for mine?”

“What's yours?” He said with a smile as he glanced at me from over his shoulder.

“y/n. y/n y/l/n.” He nodded slightly in response. Odd I thought to myself. Who picks up a crying girl from the street and just walks with them? A guy named Josh.

“You do this a lot?”

“Do what?” he says with a hint of curiosity in his tone.

“Go find random girls to “have fun” with,” I say with a bit of disgust.

“If you think I'm taking you back to an apartment or house, you're wrong, so don’t think so poorly of me when our night has just started.”

“I was-”

“Stop talking” his voice cutting through my words, as my eyes widened at his command.

“Who the f-” before I could even finish my sentence he turned around quickly, grabbing my wrist.

“You can either stop talking and trust me, or I can ditch you and let you continue to cry on the side of the street. We both know you don’t want that, do you, pretty girl?”

I moved to give him an answer but he simply said “That's what I thought” and kept walking.

I stayed silent as I let him lead me down the streets of Nashville, nightlife still buzzing, lights still flashing, and music still being sung. Finally, we landed at a small bar that seemed to be hosting a singer, for the music could be heard from outside; a complete change of scenery from where I was not even 10 minutes ago. He opened the door for me as I walked inside, taking in the scenery. The lighting was dim and the ceiling was filled with small fairy lights, leaves, and flowers. The tables were made out to look like tree stumps while the stools were made to look like daisies and sunflowers. My eyes landed on the small stage in the far back of the room, where a girl stood singing, laughing as she read the lyrics off the screen. Josh moved from behind me, tilting his head as a single to follow him as he walked up to the small bar and ordered himself a drink, turning to get my order to which I politely replied with “a cosmo please”, my go-to order.

Once we got our drinks, Josh led us to sit somewhat close to the stage, bringing me to a booth that was dimly lit with purple lighting and large crystals making up a barrier between the other booths, as if it was our little room.

“This place is cool.” I say, taking in the scenery around me.

“Yeah it's pretty neat, been in here a few times but never long enough to enjoy it..” he says while twisting his glass between his fingers.

I nodded as I looked down at my drink, sipping it here and there, the awkward silence eating me alive. I cleared my throat as I moved to speak,

“I don’t know what to say..”

“Do you like karaoke?” He said, looking up to meet my stare.

“Maybe if I was super drunk” I said with a small laugh as I nursed my drink.

“What would you sing if you had to do it?” he said with a small smile.

“Uh… gosh I don’t know, probably like an older song… maybe My Way, Don't Go Breaking My Heart if i’m with friends though?”

“Mm good songs” I nodded my head in response as conversation began to flow, along with the alcohol.

After about 45 minutes of talking, I completely forgot about the night I started off having. I felt like I knew everything there was to know about Josh and I feel like he knew everything there was to know about me. Just as I finished my drink he stood, and I smiled as he let me know he’d go get us another round. As I sat waiting for his arrival, I heard a familiar sound. Don’t Go Breaking My Heart. Sneaky Bastard, I thought to myself as he walked back towards our booth with drinks in hand and a smile on his face.

“What’d you do…” I said with a laugh as he set the drinks down in front of me. He simply shrugged his shoulders as he walked over to my side of the booth, grabbing my arm and leading me towards the small stage.

“What are you doing?” I said, laughing out loud at the action.

“Getting you to have fun,” he said as he led me up the stairs and handed me the microphone.

“No Josh im so shit seriously I'm so bad,” I said as I pushed the microphone back towards him.

“It's fine so am I,” he said with a smile as the lyrics started to pop up on the screen and he began to sing. I sit in disbelief as I watch him sing the lyrics, laughing slightly as he does so, to the very small crowd, barely paying attention. “Ok Mr.Kiszka” I laughed as he moved to wrap an arm around my shoulders as he moved the microphone to sit between the two of us as we sang together.

Perhaps it was all the martinis I was downing, maybe it was the fact that Josh was undeniably one of the most handsome men I've ever seen or even the way he made me feel better and completely forget about the fact that I had been cheated on like there was no one watching, but for the first time the entire night, I genuinely felt happy. This random man that I just met tonight, made me feel a way I haven’t in a long time. As we finished the song, we made our way back to the booth, finishing our drinks in a rush. I followed him to pay the bill, wrapping my arms around his waist as I watched him and we quickly rushed out the door once he got his card back.

The walk back towards my apartment felt like a scene from a movie. Both of us equally drunk, stumbled down the street, pausing every few blocks to get our hands on each other. Thankfully I lived right on Broadway so it wasn’t a far walk back to mine. Once we got to my complex, we wasted no time running up the stairs to my apartment, fumbling with the keys, and dropping everything the second we finally got inside.

I opened the door and Josh made quick work of getting us inside, closing the door, and turning me to face him, forcing himself onto me as our lips connected into a deep and passionate kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck, tangling a hand in his curly locks as I slowly walked us backward, breaking the kiss and grabbing his hand, leading him towards my room. I pushed the door open and turned to face him, moving to kiss him once more.

Our mouths met and his tongue licked at my bottom lip, seeking entrance. The kiss only went deeper as his tongue explored my mouth, his beer from earlier still lingering on his tongue. I turned to us slowly, having his knees hit the bed as I pushed him to sit, slowly lowering myself to sit on my knees before him. I made quick work of undoing his belt, pulling his pants down, and planting soft kisses on the inside of his thighs, then softly on his boxers, earning a soft groan from him.

“Don’t tease me, pretty girl,” he said with a scruff voice, his eyes piercing into mine as I looked up at him through my lashes. I rubbed a hand over his growing bulge as I moved my hands up to his waistband, painfully slowly pulling down his boxers as he lifted his hips.

I smiled as I brought my hand up to his cock, rubbing it once over as he let out a shuddered breath. I moved my lips along his thighs, slowly bringing them to his base, licking a stripe his length before wrapping my lips around his tip and sinking my mouth onto him.

“Oh fuck” he gasped out as I began to bob my head up and down on him. “God you're amazing,” he said, bringing a hand to my hair, making a makeshift ponytail. “Could watch you all day.” I laid down a steady rhythm, his moans filling the air.

“Faster, faster please baby,” he said between moans. With that, I picked up my pace moving faster than before. Eventually, he began to reach the back of my mouth and I choked back a gag as hard as I could, tears forming in my eyes as I did so. His moans filled the air like music to my ears. Before I could keep going, he pulled at my hair, lifting me off of him. I looked up at him as I tried my best to catch my breath, wiping the back of my hand on my mouth.

“What's wrong?” I said between breaths.

“Close,” he said with his head tilted back and his breathing equally as heavy as mine “C’mere,” he said, grabbing at my arms to lift me and I stood with ease. He began to plant small kisses along my clothed torso, scrunching the silk fabric up slowly, revealing more of my legs. Carefully, he lifted the dress and I met his hands at my chest, removing it all the way, revealing my bare chest as I stood in my tights and underwear, feeling rather shy as I went to cover my chest with my arms.

“Fuck..” he said in a growling tone as he took in the sight of my body and I watched as his eyes moved up my chest, looking as I attempted to cover it.

“Why are you getting all shy on me now, pretty girl?” He said, grabbing my arms gently and moving them down, sliding his hands down my arms and then to my tights, pulling them down softly.

“Get these off you” he said with a smile as he looked up at me.

Once they were off completely, I moved to straddle him, doing the same to him and taking off his shirt, running my hands down his body as he leaned forward, kissing down my neck to my chest. He brought one hand to my hips and one to my chest, massaging my breast in his palm while he placed the other in his mouth. I moved my hand to the back of his head as mine moved back slightly.

“J-josh..” I gasped out as I could feel him smile against my skin.

He moved his kisses back up along my body to my face, our lips connecting once more like glue. I pulled slightly on his hair, earning a groan from him that got muffled in the mix of me biting at his bottom lip. Heat began to form between my legs and naturally, I moved to grind down on him. I moved my lips down to his neck, biting and sucking hard as I continued to pick up my pace, grinding into him.

“Fuck, you're soaked,” he said with a slight laugh as I leaned back and let out a pornographic moan as he moved a hand between us and brought it to the outside of my underwear.

“I need you so bad” I mumbled as I rested my head on his shoulder “Please… please..”

“Please what?”

“Fuck please touch me,” I said as I dug my hands into his scalp, pulling on his hair tightly.

With that, he moved my underwear to the side, brought his fingers to my clit, and began to rub in small circular motions, his touch being feather-light.

“Fuck Josh please,” I said as I bit down slightly on his shoulder.

With that, he withdrew his hand and hooked it into the seams of my underwear, and moved back slightly, forcing me to stand, my legs shaky with a mix of the alcohol and the pleasure he was bringing me. He lowered my underwear slowly, as I moved to step out of them and crawl back onto the bed, straddling him once more.

He smiled as I sat on top of him, leaning down to plant small kisses down his chest and once more his neck.

“Do you have a condom?” he said as he stretched his neck to the side to give me more access.

“I’m on the pill,” I said between kisses.

Those words alone earned a groan out of him. With ease, I sat back up, looked down at him with hooded eyes, and slowly lowered myself onto him, my jaw dropping slowly in pleasure.

He sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh fuuuuuck” I watched as his eyes fluttered shut as I slowly began to pick my hips up before placing them back down onto his and he moved his hands to hold onto my hips.

I bit my lip as I slowly picked up my pace and placed my hands on either of his shoulders. Gently, he brought one of his hands up to my chest, grabbing and rubbing my breast in his palm as I moved a hand between us as I began to soft rub circles onto my clit, moaning out louder. I felt his hand leave my chest and grab at my wrist, replacing my fingers as I leaned forward and pleaded into his ear.

“Ple-please don’t stop holy shit” I say as my hair falls off my shoulders in soft waves.

As our bodies moved in unison, I moved to sit back up, trying to regain some composure before all was lost again.

“Open your eyes” I let out a small whimper as the words left his lips “Look how good I’m making you feel”.

I opened my eyes, looking down to where his hand met my body, biting my lip as I watched the way our bodies connected. I wanted more, didn’t want this to end. Ever.

I felt the pit forming in my stomach, my breathing growing heavier as I felt myself get closer to the edge.

“M’close Josh- don’t stop” I practically screamed out.

Our moans filled the air till something else joined the mix.

“What the fuck!”

I’m too deep in to turn around when I realize who it is. My boyfriend. Nothing mattered in the moment, I was so close and I wasn’t going to let some asshole ruin it for me.

“Who the fuck are you?!” I hear him call out to Josh

“Fuck she’s so close…. She’s squeezing me so tightly” I open my eyes to look down at him as he smiles at the man standing behind me.

“J-josh..” Between him telling the man I was still currently dating how I was making him feel and the fact that he hadn’t stopped moving his fingers, my release came fast “i- fuck I’m coming”.

Josh let out a low moan as I stopped moving on him and my body shook with pleasure. He brought his fingers to a halt, now opting to move for me, fucking my cum back into me.

“Shit m’there too baby…you gonna stay to watch?” I could hear him say with a smile, and then the door slammed shut, followed by the front door. Josh moved quickly, fucking me hard as he came to his finish.

My name flowed out of his mouth like a mantra as he came, his movements faltering slightly before coming to an end. I slouched slightly as he finished before slowly moving off of him, breathing rapidly matching him.

He groaned at the loss of contact as I moved to lay down next to him, resting my hands on my stomach.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know he w-”

I was cut off by him bringing a hand to mine, rubbing my knuckles softly.

“It made things 10x hotter” He said with a smile as I turned my head softly to look at him, matching his smile.

“And for the record,” he said with a sarcastic chuckle “you can do way better than that!” he said with a look written on his face saying “ME!”.

I laughed at him as I moved to place my head on his chest.

“Well if you find someone, send them my way,” I said with a soft shrug and smile.

“Oh wait actually,” he said as I sat up slightly to look at him “Do you have your phone?”

I looked at him confused. Why would he want my phone?

“no… why?”

“Fuck” he says sighing a bit “I’ve got the number of someone better for you” he said coolly with a slick smirk.

“Touche,” I said as I leaned down to kiss his lips. “This will be discussed over coffee in the morning Mr.Josh” I said sternly as my lips hovered above his.

“I look forward to it Ms.y/n” I smiled as he leaned in kissing my lips once more before I pulled back. I pulled at the covers, lifting them over ourselves and moving to lay on my side, back facing him as he wrapped an arm around my stomach, pulling me into his backside.

“Goodnight pretty girl” he whispered as he kissed my hair and lay his head down next to mine. I hummed out slightly before saying,

“Goodnight Mr.Kiszka.”

The end.

#greta van fleet #josh kiszka #josh kiskza fanfic #josh kiskza smut #josh gvf #greta van angst #greta van smut #strangers to lovers #jmk #greta van fic #greta van fluff #gvf fic #gvf smut #gvf #Spotify

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wittywallflower · 4 months ago

Text

DBDA pre-Catwin one-shot (4k)

Edwin is in quite a sorry state after a (literally) messy case. The Cat King shows up and is actually surprisingly helpful.

(rated G, canon-compliant up through Edwin and the Cat King's last meeting. Everything is basically the same as in the show except they just haven't left Port Townsend and gone back to London just yet (maybe they had to hang around to wrap up some other cases first))

🔎

Edwin’s appearance had always been important. First to his parents, who insisted he always be clean and put-together to reflect well on the family. Then in boarding school, any flaw to his uniform was scrutinized by teachers looking for dress code infractions and fellow students looking for something to snitch about. Edwin was not interested in being one of the boys who got a ruler across their knuckles for the sin of having holes in his socks, or scuffed shoes so he kept himself looking rigidly neat. Deviating from that structured appearance never turned out well. Even the new cap he had liked so well had just become a target for Simon.

Then there were the 70 years in Hell. Nothing but dirty blood-stained undergarments for decades and decades. Until they no longer felt like clothing. Just soiled scraps atop a heap of dismembered viscera that used to be a boy.

Since Hell Edwin preferred to be neatly and somewhat formally dressed. He could look down at himself for an instant reminder that he was no longer there, that he would not be going back. It helped settle the memories, the ones that would surely be nightmares if ghosts ever slept. He stuck to a simple hairstyle because it was easy to tidy without being able to see it.

It was very important to feel tidy and presentable. Thankfully that was usually quite easy for a non-living body that didn’t sweat, or excrete any sort of fluids, actually.

One day he hoped he could look in a mirror again without seeing in his mind his own face reflected in that mirror in Hell, his features drenched in blood, eyes wild and full of panic, terror, pain. That was the freshest memory he had of his own appearance in the last 100 years.

Rest assured it was not ego that made Edwin’s looks important to him.

So when a case went slightly sideways and Edwin was thrown into a dirty brackish pool, he was not pleased.

Charles’ cricket bat had been forbidden as it was not their intent to injure the restless spirit, the ghost of a young man who died while under the influence of hallucinogens. It was not his fault that, between the drugs and the bewildering experience that becoming a ghost can be, he had lost hold of reality. The goal was to subdue without harm, and allow Crystal to calm his mind so he would be coherent and able to move on. They did achieve that in the end, but not before being thrown around a bit by the former rugby lad who thought he was only defending himself. It was only Edwin's bad luck that he had ended up in the water instead of Charles.

Edwin couldn't enjoy the satisfaction of a job well jobbed in his current state and his agitation only increased when he was left behind by the others, Charles opting to ride along with Crystal who refused to invite Edwin to join them because “how am i supposed to explain the smell of rotting fish and pond scum to the Uber driver?”

His skin couldn’t actually feel the filth he was covered in but that didn’t stop it from crawling.

To add insult to injury, there was a sudden burst of purple flames in the night, immediately followed by a low chuckle.

“Well,” the Cat King drawled with a smirk, “I certainly didn’t expect-”

Edwin’s hand shot up, palm out, and the look on his face must have been a hard glare indeed because the Cat King immediately shut up and schooled the amused grin off his face.

Edwin started marching away from the scene of their case. He was so… furious and uncomfortable that he couldn't even begin to try to remember where the nearest mirror might be.

The Cat King fell into step beside him, watching his face closely but not speaking. After a few long moments of silence, he put a hand on Edwin’s forearm. Lightly, ready to be removed, but it was enough to make Edwin stop and face him.

“Are you okay?” the Cat King asked.

“I am perfectly unharmed,' Edwin answered, curt and abrupt.

Unharmed didn't necessarily mean okay, he knew that and so did his companion judging by the way the Cat King narrowed his eyes at Edwin. But he didn’t press further.

“Glad to hear it.” The king ran his tongue along his teeth as contemplated Edwin. The ghost was about to huff and turn away when he caught the beginnings of a feline smile.

“What?” he demanded, voice testy.

“No, it's just… I’m sorry,” The Cat King let himself smile, but it wasn't mocking or even leering. It was almost apologetic. “You have, what is that, seaweed?... in your hair.”

A sharp, polished fingernail pointed towards his head.

Edwin stiffened and reached to run his hand through his hair. He squirmed in distaste when his hand came away green with algae and god knows what else. He tried to wipe it off with his other hand only for those fingers to end up similarly soiled. There was no sense in wiping them on his trousers, his clothing was in no better state.

His wet hair chose that moment to flop forward, sending a small trickle of water down his cheek. He was about to wipe it away before he remembered the state of his hands. Obviously his face would be just as bad but he still couldn't bring himself to touch himself with dirty hands. His mouth twisted in disgust and he tried again to brush his fingers clean, the knowledge that it was useless only making him more agitated.

Unable to watch his distress, the Cat King stepped forward. Right into Edwin’s personal space, close enough to be a distraction but hopefully a pleasant one. Edwin seemed like he could use one at the moment.

“Hey, it's okay, I got you,” the king crooned softly. A flash of purple fire and a handkerchief appeared in his hand.

The Cat King gently swiped at Edwin's cheeks in slow, gentle upward strokes, following the trail of water until he could push the offending hank of hair back from Edwin’s forehead. He guided the cloth over the furrows in Edwin’s forehead, as if he could physically smooth away the ghost's inner turmoil. On the next stroke he followed one of Edwin’s eyebrows outward, smoothed over his temple, trailed the soft fabric over the shell of his ear... letting himself be the one to get distracted. Just for a moment.

Then his finger brushed against something that was definitely not a strand of Edwin’s hair, and he paused to extract a tiny branch of some aquatic plant. Edwin grimaced at the sight of it, making an aborted motion to run his fingers through his hair, ensure for himself that there was nothing else in it. The Cat King cleared his throat, setting back to his task quickly before Edwin could focus on the mess on his hands again.

The magic he imbued in the handkerchief allowed him to wipe down Edwin’s face and neck without ever growing damp or dirty. Then the Cat King took Edwin's hands in his one by on, exploring every inch of his palm and his fingers as they were gently wiped them clean.

Edwin clearly wasn’t any happier when the Cat King finished, for all that he was less green and dripping. His hands now fidgeted constantly with his clothing where it was clinging to his body, and when he shifted his weight there was a wet squelch from within his shoes that made him wince so hard his shoulders went nearly up to his ears.

Edwin may not be able to actually feel his sodden socks, and his toes couldn't prune from the moisture, but apparently there were some sensations one never forgets no matter how long they’ve been dead.

“You need to get out of those clothes.”

Edwin raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him and the Cat King held up his hands in placation.

“Not how I meant it.” He couldn’t help it though, “Well…”

The Cat King grinned.

It had no effect on Edwin whatsoever.

“Relax.” He risked lowering a hand to take one of Edwin’s. When the ghost didn’t pull away, the king decided that would be permission enough for the moment.

With a tilt of his head and soft smile Edwin’s way, his magic transported the both of them to his private space in the cannery. Edwin clocked their surroundings and opened his mouth to no doubt object, but the Cat King dropped Edwin’s hand to hold up his own again.

“If you really prefer to go back to the little apartment above the butcher shop where your loud and annoying friends are, I can do that. But I promise you, I can make this place much more comfortable than you think.”

He stepped back and snapped his fingers with a flourish.

A warm glow of light drew Edwin’s eye and he turned to spy a very luxurious bathing chamber looking very out of place in one corner of this derelict warehouse. The marble tiles were a stark contrast next to the rather ordinary and dusty industrial floor. Edwin’s curiosity couldn’t prevent him from walking over to investigate. An elegant claw-foot tub in a burnished bronze sat filled with steaming water. A surprisingly modest chandelier with actual candles made the atmosphere cozier and more intimate than seemed possible for the industrial setting.

Edwin nearly jumped when the Cat King appeared without warning right at his side, silent footsteps unnoticed as he crossed the room, true to his feline nature even in human form. Edwin's eyes followed the Cat King as rolled up his sleeves and dabbled a hand in the water to test the temperature, nodding in satisfaction.

A ghost couldn’t feel the temperature of the bathwater. There was really no need for such consideration. For some reason the thoughtfulness put Edwin on the defensive.

“I know you don’t expect me to bathe in front of you," he said tartly.

Sure, Edwin had done so in front of other people at boarding school, there was no choice as everything was communal: eating, sleeping, bathing. But that was quite literally a century ago, and it had never been a particularly positive experience for him.

At least now he understood why he’d been so nervous around the other boys at the time.

The Cat King looked him in the eye.

“I don’t expect anything from you, ghostie.” He held Edwin’s eye with a serious expression long enough for the ghost to get the point, then dropped into an easy smile and winked. “Can’t stop a cat from hoping though.”

It was exactly the sort of thing Edwin expected to hear from the Cat King so he didn’t bristle in response. He didn't react at all actually, which made it surprising when the Cat King rushed to offer reassurance.

“No ulterior motives tonight, I promise." He drew an X over his heart with his finger, which made Edwin roll his eyes. "I just want you to be more comfortable.”

Edwin could have launched into an explanation of how little physical discomfort a ghost was capable of, how he couldn’t feel chilled from the cold water, or chafed by the damp clothing. He was not about to explain that his distress was mostly mental, emotional. How it is was irrational and possibly some sin of vanity that being such a mess reminded him of Hell.

He didn’t need to explain anything though. With another purple blaze, the Cat King summoned some helpful items.

In one hand appeared a strangely shaped glass bottle of shimmering liquid that was upended into the tub. The water turned opaque and milky and a barely-there shade of pale pink.

“There," the Cat King said, "can’t see a thing through the water now. I hope you don't mind i took the liberty of choosing for you. I know you ghosts don't have the same sense of smell anymore, but we’re going to need something fragrant.”

His nose wrinkled slightly in a way that was frankly (unfortunately) endearing. Edwin wondered how offensive the odor was to sharper feline senses. He considered apologizing for it, but it certainly wasn’t his own fault that he smelled like this. And seeing as they were about to fix the situation, it didn't seem worth the effort.

“What’s the scent?” Edwin asked instead.

“Rose.”

Edwin’s eyebrow raised in mild surprise and the Cat King smiled back with a shrug.

“Options are limited for bath products made from flowers that aren't toxic to cats. At least its a scent you were probably familiar with when you were alive, for whatever that's worth.”

The bottle disappeared and the Cat King pulled a length of folded cloth from where it had been draped over his arm. It unfurled to reveal a dark blue old fashioned bathing unitard from the era when Edwin was still alive. He’d only worn something like it a few times as an older boy, not being the type to do a lot of swimming.

“For your modesty,” the Cat King said. Again, his smile wasn’t mocking or suggestive. He circled Edwin for a moment, looking him up and down (correction: the smile was a little suggestive now), then held the bathing costume up in front of the ghost’s torso. “And look, I even got the size right.”

Perhaps he had been tempted to make it a little on the snug side, just to see what the ghost was packing. Curiosity, cats, etc. etc.

Edwin took the garment from him but didn't make eye contact, oddly distracted for a man who was being flirted with. Edwin’s gaze was aimed over the king's shoulder, but his eyes were a bit too vacant to really be looking at anything. Whatever it was, it absorbed him thoroughly; he didn’t speak as the seconds stretched.

With a subtle shift of weight, the Cat King moved to the side, just enough to step into the path of Edwin’s stare. Blocking his view of whatever made him space out for a minute there.

Edwin blinked a few times then cleared his throat, turning to the side. He looked down at the bathing suit.

“I definitely will not be undressing while you watch," he said flatly.

If not for that little exchange in the alley, the Cat King might suspect Edwin was allergic to saying thank you.

“I can close my eyes. I promise not to peek.” He winked at Edwin, but didn’t give the boy time to get riled up before he conceded. “I’ll step out and give you your privacy.”

“Unnecessary,” Edwin said, much to both of their surprise. “It will only take a moment. I will insist you turn your back, however. And keep it turned.”

Unsure how to react to being invited to stay, the Cat King actually gaped at him for a moment. Edwin began to undo his bowtie but when he noticed his companion was staring (the exact opposite of his request), Edwin frowned and made a very condescending shooing motion with one hand.

Rather than take issue with that bit of disrespect, the Cat King decided to respect the boy’s boundaries. The magical being pivoted 180 degrees and put his back fully to the Edwardian ghost, taking a few steps away to give him space .

If it were anyone else, the Cat King would be very advantageously positioned. The mirror he now faced reflected everything behind him, except for one invisible ghost who was in fact the only thing the Cat King would have wanted to look at.

Examining the mirror now he realized it was the only thing that could have been in Edwin’s line of sight when he’d gone into that worrisome moment of dissociation.

The Cat King didn’t know why such a thing would upset him. Being a major mode of ghostly transportation, Edwin wasn’t exactly lacking for mirrors in his life. And with no reflection he wouldn't be able to see it if he truly did look ghastly. (Which of course he didn’t. Even dripping and bedraggled, Edwin was so oddly handsome. The Cat King didn’t usually go for the clean cut Boy Scout look but, here they were.)

He didn’t need to know why the mirror had bothered Edwin to grasp the fact that it made him uncomfortable. The Cat King could vanish it away entirely of course. But removing an escape route likely wouldn't put Edwin any more at ease. As a compromise the king summoned his magic again.

There was a gasp behind his back when the purple flared between them with a puff of smoke. He could picture a startled Edwin, hugging whatever garment he had just removed close to his body to cover himself.

The Cat King’s view in the mirror’s reflection was now blocked by an elegant folding screen positioned to separate the tub, and Edwin, from the rest of the room. The Cat King didn't move though. Edwin said to keep his back turned, so he waited and listened to the almost imperceptible rustle of fabric. The slosh as the water in the tub was disturbed.

He stood there, and he waited.

“As nice as the privacy is,” Edwin’s voice came from behind the screen, “it doesn’t actually make me less anxious that I can’t keep an eye on what you’re up to.”

The Cat King smiled to himself.

“Sounds like you’re asking for my company,” he replied lightly.

“I’m not asking for anything from you.”

Edwin had composed himself enough for a bit of the old hostility to seep in to his tone. But he’d had an extremely aggravating night, so the king decided that was easy enough to overlook.

“Guess you get this one for free, then,” he said.

With a saunter he stepped around the folding screen as Edwin watched him warily. When the Cat King approached the tub, Edwin tensed further, sinking down into the water up to his neck and folding his arms protectively over his chest. No that there was a need to. The only thing visible below his chin was two knees poking a few inches above the cloudy water.

“Easy,” the king crooned reassurance. “I’m not going to touch you, not gonna use any spells on you. I’ll just be here to… I don't know, pass you the soap, I guess.” A bar of soap appeared in his hand and he held it out to Edwin before he frowned thoughtfully. “Do ghosts even need to use soap?”

Edwin’s eyes darted between the king’s face, the soap in his hand, and back.

“No,” he said, but nonetheless reached out to grab it.

Edwin had to sit up to properly clean himself; he tried to hunch in on himself to avoid being Seen. The Cat King decided not to make it any harder for Edwin by staring. He folded his limbs with feline grace and sat on the floor, his back against the tub and his eyes respectfully turned away.

He was glad he wasnt watching after a moment. By the sound of it Edwin wasn’t going easy with the scrubbing. The king was glad he hadn’t offered a loofah as well. At least, being a ghost, Edwin couldn't actually damage his skin with too much abrasion.

The Cat King hoped the ritual of washing would cleanse the ghost’s mind, at least.

The smell of roses grew thicker as the lather added its own fragrant note, just slightly different but undeniably the same floral.

There were long minutes of quiet splashing. Eventually the Cat King asked hopefully,

“Need a hand to wash your back?”

“No,” the word was not so tensely gritted out this time, “but… um, my hair, is it clean enough? I can’t tell.”

The Cat King turned, and through some damned impressive willpower, kept his eyeline above Edwin’s neck. The boy’s face wasn’t so pinched now. He didn't seem like he wanted to tear his skin off anymore. The king had never actually seen Edwin relaxed so he had no basis for comparison, but this looked like a step in the right direction.

Dutifully he examined Edwin’s hair. The ghost had to duck his head for the shorter being to see all of it. The cat king hummed quietly, a small smile hidden from Edwin’s lowered face.

“Missed a bit of lather just here.”

A swirl of his wrist summoned a cup that the Cat King dipped into the water and raised above Edwin’s head, waiting for the ghost to close his eyes before pouring the water over his hair. He’d love nothing more than to run his fingers through those damp strands, but he’d promised Edwin he wouldn’t touch.

Another cascade of water and Edwin’s hair was as clean as the rest of him.

“There we go.” The Cat King’s voice was oddly tender, and after a second he seemed to realize that for himself, because he cleared his throat and stood from where he’d been kneeling beside the bath. “I’ll, uh, take care of your clothes while you finish up.”

Magicking the non-corporeal clothing clean and dry wouldn’t take more than a click of his fingers but he still took the time to gather up the sodden garments and dripping shoes to carry them off.

Leaving Edwin alone behind the screen. In a tub full of water that would never dirty or grow cold, next to it a stack of the fluffiest towels in existence, thoughtfully warmed for a ghost who couldn’t even feel it.

The Cat King shook his head in dismay at himself as he left the room. He was being such a fucking simp.

Edwin had no idea how it worked, what enchantments the king had used on the items to get the timing so correct (maybe he was spying after all?), but the moment Edwin finished toweling himself dry, a robe appeared. Luxurious fabric but muted colors, no ornamentation. Nothing garish, but long and thick and elegant. When he belted it on it covered him nicely from collarbone to calves. The moment that the robe was secured, the bathing chambers melted out of existence: the tub, the chandelier, the wet towels, the folding screen.

Everything except the mirror.

Obviously the mirror stayed. It was the most logical and convenient way for Edwin to go home.

Well, not home, but to their current headquarters anyway.

His fingers brushed his side and he fingered the fabric he was wrapped in, wondering what he must look like in it. He’d never worn anything similar, had never even seen another person wearing such a rich, hedonistic garment while he was living. Did it look strange on him? Did he look like he was playing dress-up? Or maybe it suited him. Maybe, if he had lived, he would have come to own a similar dressing gown one day. Wrapped himself in it in the morning while he made coffee, worn it while he sat with a book in his own library in his own home late into the evening before he retired to a bed that would be useless to him in his current state of being.

Edwin got a bit lost in the wondering, the hypotheticals, staring at the mirror that didn’t reflect anything of note, not himself and not the robe belt he was fiddling with. The Cat King’s return pulled him back into the moment.

A folded pile of familiar clothing was handed to him, shoes dry and polished to a shine stacked on top.

“All ready for you.” The king’s smile turned a bit sad. “I imagine you want to get back to your friends now.”

Edwin really should. Ordinarily he would have made it back via mirror much quicker than Crystal’s rideshare, so they would be wondering where he was. He hadn’t made note of the time when he arrived, couldn't say how long he’d been here. He could feel the weight of his pocket watch within his folded jacket, but he didn’t fish it out to check it. The answer wouldn’t really change anything.

Edwin didn’t know what to say to the Cat King. ‘Goodbye’ perhaps. ‘Thank you’, probably. Before he could decide, the other man seemed to startle.

“Oh! Almost forgot.”

From a pocket The Cat King pulled out a comb. It was beautiful, carved from what must be mother-of-pearl, and it looked the priceless sort of old.

The Cat King reached up to run the comb through Edwin’s hair, but stopped, pulling back and offering the comb to him instead.

Edwin looked at it for a long moment. Unsure what was possessing him, instead of taking it he bent forward, Edwin lowered his head to put it in easy reach of the shorter man.

Edwin's eyes dropped and he missed the pleased grin that split the feline monarch’s face.

The Cat King wasn’t going to give Edwin a chance to change his mind. With infinite care he gently guided the comb through Edwin’s dark hair. Thankfully it was free of tangles; if the Cat King was going to pull Edwin’s hair, he wanted it to be in a sexy context.

It only took a few passes to settle the damp hair into the simple style Edwin favored. The Cat King let his hand fall away when he was finished despite the temptation to linger, to take another pass through those strands with his fingers instead.

Before he stood up straight once more, Edwin dipped his head even lower, leaning in to brush his lips to the Cat King’s cheek, a mirror of where he’d kissed him before. The Cat King’s eyes fluttered shut, just like last time.

“Thank you.” Edwin didn’t whisper. His voice, though quiet, was firm.

And importantly, it was wasn’t tense anymore, not laced with anxious agitation as it was before the bath.

The Cat King inhaled, smelling the fragrance of roses, and opened his eyes again.

There was nothing to see except the last ripple of the mirror’s surface marking the ghost’s exit.

[hoo, boy, 4k is too long for tumblr, i shoulda taken this straight to ao3 but then I'd have to think of a title for it.]

[hey. what should be the title for it?]

NOW ON AO3

#Edwin Payne taking a relaxing(?) milk bath was not where this story was supposed to go when i started it #but he got a wee bit neurospicy on me so what was I to do? he was having a bad day. i gotta be nice to him. CK agrees #dead boy detectives #catwin #dead boy detective agency

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god-has-entered-my-body · 7 months ago

Text

You said some day we might - M.H x Reader // pt.3

A/N: This one's a bit NSFW (minors please don't interact), also angsty and sad at parts. TW for hard drugs, take care of yourselves! This is loosely based off of my own experience, and I am not trying to glamorize it. Ily my dearest @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff for making sure it isnt shit xx

wc: 4k

part four

Picture a scene: flashing lights all around you, colors blinding as they move through the room, seemingly liquid. Music pounding in your head, almost as if it was trying to force its way into your body. People sweating, dancing up against strangers. You feel alive.

Matty dances next to you, throwing his hands up into the air. You can hear screams as the music changes, now playing Britney Spears’ ‘Toxic’. He wouldn't admit it if you held a gun to his head, but he loves this song. Your hips sway to the beat, and you can feel arms on your waist. It's not Matty. The fuck?

You didn't know this guy, but his hands were grabbing at you roughly like you were supposed to. His grin disgusted you. (Not so) politely shoving him off, you dance toward Matty, tapping his shoulder three separate times. That was code for ‘bathroom, now’. He nods, taking your hand and leading you towards the edge of the crowd. The sea of people thins out as you finally spot the glowing sign for the loo.

“You alright?” He asks as you enter the bathroom. The walls were covered in graffiti, stickers, and the occasional phone number. There wasn't the classic smell of piss and sweat, which is why you liked Sound. It was fairly clean. The sinks were made of metal, and so was everything else. The lights were dim, and the mirrors dirty, lipstick stains adorning the edges. You can hear the faint noise of toilets flushing in the background.

“I'm fine, I s’pose, just that guy was rubbing up against me all weird.” You fix your hair in the mirror, refreshing your eyeliner before passing it to Matty so he could do the same. You had taught him how to do it himself, saving you a load of time and effort whenever you were getting ready together. Tonight's color was red, both of you were wearing the same shade.

The stall door flings open as a girl stumbles out, almost falling before she caught herself on the hand dryer. Fixing her bra strap, she wiped the edges of her mouth clean before reaching into her small blue handbag. Out comes a small baggie with white powder in it. You immediately recognise it. Blow.

While you and Matty smoked copious amounts of weed, neither of you had ever tried anything harder. An exception was the occasional acid trip, and even that was a one off on Ross’ 18th birthday.

Both you and Matty watch her intently as she starts cutting up lines on the edge of the sink, not caring that both your eyes were on her. She takes out a £5 note, rolling it before snorting the line. Her hair is wild as she lifts her head back up, turning to the mirror to fix it.

“D’you fancy some, love? I have plenty for you,” she looks over to Matty, flashing him a smile “and your friend, as well.”

It takes you a split second to realize her statement was directed at you. Matty turns to make eye contact, before doing something you didn't expect.

He nods, taking a step towards the girl. You do the same. ‘If you're going to try it’, you thought, trying to rationalize, ‘who better than with Matty?’

She shakes more of the powder onto the sink, cutting two lines for the both of you, and one more for herself. You notice the card she uses is a school I.D. A high school I.D.

She hands you the rolled up note first, and for some reason, you feel calm. ‘This is fine’ you repeat in your head, before opening your mouth to speak.

“This is blow, yeah?” you ask, looking up at her from your position, which was currently hunched over the sink. It's cold, colder than it was.

“Yeah, clean shit too, don't worry,” she offers a genuine smile, stroking your hair with her long, black nails. You steal a glance at Matty, who was now sitting on the sink next to you, watching closely. You nod, turning back to the line of white powder in front of you

You take a deep breath before snorting the line. It burns as it travels through your nostrils, and you don't feel anything for a second.

And then, it hits you.

It hits you fast. Everything feels amplified, and you barely register as Matty snorts his. You feel good, euphoric even. Matty feels the same way, letting out a shout when he does lift his head from the sink.

The girl was long gone when you exited the bathroom and reentered the crowd. You danced with Matty, the music controlling your movements. Deciding to get a drink, you drag him to the bar. The bartender looks you up and down, before shaking his head. He knew you were on something, but that wasn't a rarity in clubs like Sound. Everyone was on something, so, fuck it! Why couldn't you do the same?

Matty orders for you. A french martini and a glass of Malbec for him. The bartender raised his eyebrows at his drink order. “Who orders wine at a club?” he shouts over the music. Matty rolls his eyes before responding “I do! Why, d’you fancy buying me a drink when you get off?” he winks at him provocatively before taking the drinks from the counter.

He hands you your drink, bringing his hand up to your face, wiping off the smudged makeup underneath your eyes. That's when you realize how hot it was. ‘Fucking hell’ you thought. ‘When did it get so hot? Jesus Christ, it's like I'm in a sauna’.

Matty had downed his glass of wine in two large gulps, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his your wine red jumper. You rake your eyes over his body, a thin layer of sweat shone on his forehead. His eyeliner was somehow still perfect.

He was perfect.

March, 2008 // two months earlier

The mid afternoon sun was beating down onto your skin. The blanket beneath you molding to the ridges of the earth, digging into your back. You were lying in a field, surrounded by daisies and dandelions blowing softly in the breeze, a half-empty packet of crisps on your left. Your arms were sprawled out to the side, with Matty lying peacefully on top of you.

Adam had situated himself on a flimsy fold up chair. He hated sitting on the ground with a burning passion. You had promptly forgiven him for leaving you to fend for yourselves that past weekend, seeing as he promised to pay club covers for a month as an apology. Just you though, seeing as Matty would have abused the ever living hell out of Hann’s wallet if given the chance.

George and Ross were in the lake located a few dozen meters from where you were sitting, having a swim. The weather was uncharacteristically nice given that you were in Great Britain, land of miserable weather, so the five of you had set out for a makeshift picnic at the last minute.

It wasnt aesthetically pleasing by any means, with fag packets litering the dirty old blanket Ross had found in an old closet. Ross’ beer bottles were lined up at the edge of the blanket. You grab a pack, presumably Georges, and light up. Marlboro golds, not your favorite, but they’ll do. Breathing in the smoke, you turn your head to get a better look at Matty, who was draped over you, using your chest as a pillow.

You wore Mattys sunflower shirt, unbuttoned, revealing a black sports bra underneath. He, in turn, wore one of your tops. Specifically, a lavender baby tee with the words ‘dump him’ scrawled across the chest in white glitter. Adam was dressed like a divorced dad, beige linen trousers paired with a Metallica band shirt. You laughed when you saw him, knowing he’d be sweating in under an hour wearing that.

Soft music played in the background, the speaker having been lost underneath the pile of Ross and George's clothes. The air smelled of summer, even if it was only March. You spot the wine bottle in Mattys hand as he tilted his head up, taking a drink. You tap him on the arm, and he hands you the bottle.

White wine? Matty rarely drank white wine. You brushed it off, it was probably just the cheapest thing at the store. Matty loved expensive red wine, but did not have the money to pay for it, always settling for the bottle with the lowest price tag. Your attention is drawn to George screaming incoherent curses at Ross for throwing a rock at him. Absolute knobheads.

“D’you reckon we need sunscreen? I don't wanna age my skin anymore than it already has.” he asked, his fingers lingering on his face. His skin was perfect, not a single blemish tarnishing it. “I dunno, I don't think we need to. It's not that hot.” you answer, looking around you. “It's not looking like we have any anyway” you add.

You could feel Mattys' breath on you, ghosting over your chest. His legs moved, brushing against yours. You were suddenly very aware of the fact he was laying on top of you. It made you feel hot, and not because of the sun.

He rolled on top of you, now straddling your legs. He was clearly drunk, slurring his words. His eyes stared into yours with such an intensity, you would've thought he was trying to read your mind. His face was bare, but the glitter from last night's adventures still stained his face, giving him a slight shine.

A smile crept onto his face as he brushed his hair out of his face. The blonde highlights had slightly grown out by now, and you made a mental note to ask him if he wanted you to do his roots.

“Didnt you want to cut my hair?” He asked, and you recognised that look in his eye. Excitement. He jumps up, crawling to get his bag.

“I brought a pair of scissors, d’you wanna cut it now?” He held up pink kitchen scissors, handing them to you as you moved to a sitting position.

“Are you sure? These are not meant for ha-” “I don't careee, just do it!” he slurred, cutting you off and settling between your crossed legs. He turns and looks at you expectantly, and you sigh in defeat.

You try your best, snipping away at his hair randomly. Cutting layers into his hair, you try to make the strands around his face shorter. He giggles as it tickles his face, brushing it off his skin. The sun made him appear as if he were glowing, painting him in an orange hue. Trying not to cut it too short, you tug at it to get a good idea of the length.

A soft groan escapes Mattys mouth, and he tries to pass it off as a cough, avoiding your gaze. A few minutes later, you tug at it again. A little experiment , if you will. This time, the noise is slightly clearer, and his whole body twitches. He busies himself with the bottle of wine in his hands, inspecting the label.

He admires your work in a little compact mirror you had found in your bag. “So.. do you like it? Or have I completely fucked your hair?” you ask, watching his reflection. Matty grins, slamming the mirror shut.

“I love it! The layers make me look hot, so you did your job right!” He pulled you in for a hug, kissing all over your face: He was obviously drunker than you thought.

You lay back on your elbows, closing your eyes, letting the sun shine onto your skin. This was nice. You felt truly alive.

—---------------------------------------------------------

Skin against skin, soft moans filled the room. You didn't even know who they belonged to. Desire took over your bodies like a foreign force. The room was dark, the only light coming from the streetlamp just outside, illuminating the space.

“Fuck- can I?” hands trailed down your chest, toying with the buttons of your shirt. You nod frantically, smashing his lips back against yours. You find his hair, pulling slightly as he lets out a pathetic whimper. You drink in the noise as if it was the very essence of life, tugging even harder at the curls. Curls. Matty.

“Mmh- ah, fuck-” You can feel him against your thigh. You can feel Matty grinding against you. The thought makes your head spin, and you throw your head back, your hair splayed over the baby blue pillows. Mattys pillows.

“You're so- you’re so beautiful, just let me- i’ll-” he cuts himself off, trailing his lips down your jaw, leaving searing, hot kisses in his wake. His mouth makes contact with your collarbone, biting down. You hiss, your nails digging into his scalp. He groans. Matty

His rough hands rub the tattoo on your hip, you feel his rough calluses. You pull his hair, making him look at you. Your eyes rake over his face, the glitter around his eyes shimmering in the faint light. His hand comes up to push your shirt up, the material bunching up where his mouth had just been. You make eye contact again.

He grins before licking one long stripe along the expanse of your ribcage, letting out an obscene moan as he did. He was putting on a show, for you. The noise goes straight to your core.

His fingers snap the elastic of your black underwear, making you jump. A laugh. Teeth graze your hip bone, tracing the tattoo. You can feel him slipping the lace down your thighs, licking and sucking lower, lower, lower…

You jolt awake suddenly, hot sweat running down your back. You turn to look at the time. 2:53am.

What the fuck was that?

You close your eyes, the dream replaying in your head. Lips, your lips and his. Teeth, kisses down your neck, Matty, Matty, Matty-

You stop yourself, shoving your face into a pillow. This can't be happening. This wasn't real. This was all hallucination and you didn't just have a wet dream involving your best mate.

Letting out a groan, you lay back down facing the wall. You desperately, desperately needed a good lay. If it had come to you having fucking dreams about Matty of all people, you knew it was time to find a guy and just shag him. That would solve your little predicament, you were sure of it.

—------------------------------------------------------------

Admiring yourself in the mirror, you hike the ruched material of your dress up even further. Jewelry covered you from head to toe, complimenting the details of your bag perfectly. Hair done up in curls, you knew you were ready.

You were going out. Alone.

The heel of your shoe clicked nervously against the pavement as you queued, giving the bouncer, James, a nod as he waved you through. “No Matty today?” he questioned, referring to the fact that you were alone.

“Yeah, I'm out alone tonight. Matty is… sick. The flu.” you lie through your teeth, not wanting to disclose the real reason behind your solo-mission. The plan was to find a guy, any guy, and forget about that godforsaken dream.

The music was loud, even louder than usual, and you were stone cold sober. Not good.

Making your way to the bar, you order your usual, a french martini. Tobias, the bartender, handed your drink, and you close out. You didn't want to get hammered tonight.

Your fingers drum along to the beat as you sip your drink, scanning the crowd. There weren't many people dancing, seeing as it was a Sunday night. Most had work in the morning, so going out wasn't an option. He had asked you if you really didn't want anything else, even offering you a drink in the house. You politely decline with a shake of your head, assuring him it was alright.

Suddenly, a tall man appeared in your peripheral vision. You had seen him a few times before, wandering about, flirting with the female waitresses. Blonde hair, blue eyes. The complete opposite of Matty. His arm rested against the bar, and you could see him flexing his muscles. On purpose. Jesus.

He strolled up to you with an air of confidence. Turning to Tobias, he asked him what your drink was. “A french martini,” he answered, looking you up and down “and she's only had one the entire night.” The man laughs, “Well that wont do! Let me buy you a drink sweetheart, on me.”

You nod, turning to face him. A smile makes its way onto your lips. Perfect .

He introduces himself as David. He works an office job down the road, something something marketing. You didn't really listen to him, only laughing when he paused, expecting it

He seemed solid, and he was 19, so not too old. You really didn't want to deal with another Phillip situation. He had bought you three, quite pricey, drinks, and you knew he wanted more.

He eventually asked if you wanted to come back to his place for some wine. You agreed, letting yourself be led out of the club by your wrist. James winked at you knowingly as you left.

He had a silver Toyota, the interior a cream leather. It was a big difference to Hann’s beaten up red Kia, but you weren't complaining. He was nice enough, opening the car door for you.

The inside of his flat reeked of sickly sweet vanilla and cheap cologne. He opened a bottle of wine for the both of you, pouring two glasses. The conversion was mundane, but he was nice enough. You had switched your phone off, not wanting anything to distract you from your mission. He had made a move to sit next to you, his hand trailing up your thigh, inching higher with every word he uttered.

His mouth was against your ear, whispering sweet nothings into it, his other hand finding your chest, pushing you down onto the sofa. You let him move you, twist you as he pleased. It didn't mean anything to you, you just needed to get Matty out of your head. Matty.

His hands were soft, like he moisturized them regularly. You could feel his lips on your chest, leaving bite marks and kisses, but you didn't feel anything. Closing your eyes, you decide to let him do all of the work. You had even worn your only pair of lace underwear, a black number with a little bow on the front of the matching bra. The same pair you had worn in the dream.

You mentally curse yourself, kissing David deeper, harder than you did before. Forget, forget, forget.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

He wasn't the worst, but at least he tried. You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. Laying on his (quite expensive looking) leather couch, you watch him as he gets dressed. He asks you if you need anything, and you answer with a shake of your head. You just wanted to leave.

A phone buzzes, and you quickly realize it's yours. You pick it up, the screen lighting up. 3 missed calls from Matty, and 4 texts from him as well.

// Where r you? I’m at your window.

// Are you well?

// Answer me for fucks sake, dont do this.

// I hope you’ve died or smth, you’re well fucking me off.

You sigh, clicking the call button. It rings for a split second before Matty picks up.

“Now you decide to ring me back? I thought you’d been picked up by a sex trafficker or something. Fuck you, honest,” his voice sounded worried, even tired, if you ignored the nature of his words.

“Sorry mate, I was out.” You answer curtly, trying to keep your voice steady. Your fingers tap against the glass of the coffee table, and you hear Matty inhale sharply.

“Out where? And why did it take me three calls and four messages to get a ring back?” he sounded more aggressive this time, and you could tell he had gotten up from wherever he was sitting. This pissed you off. Why does he have the right to know where you are, it didn’t concern him in the slightest, and he wasn't your father. You told him as much.

“I was out, alright? I'm at David's place right now, and I'll be at yours in an hour, cool?” A moment of silence passes between you two before Matty spits out. “Whos the fuck is David?” The way he said his name made it sound like you had shagged his worst enemy, not some random guy.

“He's just a bloke I met at Sound, I went to his place. D’you want me over or should I fuck off home?” The second option was just a courtesy, you were sure he’d want you over. You hadn’t seen each other since Friday.

“Nah, it's alright, go home.” His voice sounded cold, unfeeling. A shudder made its way up your spine. He didn't sound like himself at all. What the fuck? “I have erm.. work to catch up on. You understand.” No you didnt fucking understand.

You open your mouth to protest, but are rudely interrupted by a faint noise. The dial tone. Matty had hung up on you. Your mouth let out a gasp in disbelief. Fuck him. Fuck him all the way.

You gather your things. While trying to find your shoes, David comes back into the room. You tell him you need to leave, and he tries to kiss you goodbye. It feels wrong.

Deciding to walk barefoot, you do the walk of shame at 1 in the morning. Heels in one hand, your purse in the other, you trudge down the pavement. You feel dirty, like you did something inherently wrong.

Cars whizz by you, and you hear sirens in the background. It's cold, and you can feel goosebumps forming on your skin in the soft breeze. Feeling around for your cigarettes, you come across something small towards the bottom of your purse. You pull it out, your eyes widening at the sight. The lighter. Mattys lighter.

The white letters on the side point and laugh at you. You can hear it. It was even more chipped than it was that night, how did it still work? M.H. Matty.

In a fit of rage you chucked the lighter onto the ground in front of you. It splinters off, the metal top flying off onto the road. A car drives over it. You were angry. Angry at yourself for even going out alone. For going home with fucking David. You were angry at Matty for being angry at you. You didn't even understand why, but the mere fact he had hung up on you made your blood boil.

The lighter was now in pieces beneath your feet. The white letters, illegible. Feeling powerful, you decide to kick the rest of the plastic off onto the road, hoping a giant truck would run it over. You wanted Matty at your feet like this, pathetic and powerless. You needed him like this, to show him he can't just hang up on you like you're nothing.

The mental image of Matty at your feet made warmth spread throughout your body. On his knees, looking up at you with glassy, glitter framed eyes. You wanted to take his beautiful hair and weave it between your fingers, forcing him to look up at you. You wanted to hear the pathetic whimpers escape his mouth, just like they did in your dream.

You feel breathless, staring at the wet pavement where the lighter once was. You keep walking.

#i like this one alot #angst #smut??#smut #the 1975 #matty healy #ross macdonald #adam hann #george daniel #matty the 1975 #drive like i do #matty healy x you #matty healy angst #matty healy smut #fluff?#sort of i guess

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pedrospatch · 2 years ago

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the road ahead l preview (j. miller series)

a/n📝 in honor of hitting 4k followers this weekend, I decided to post a little glimpse at what I have been brainstorming: a full length series for the to do the right thing universe. I have been toying around with this idea for a while now and to be honest, I am really terrified taking on such a big challenge and writing this story, but also kind of excited too? part of me feels like I’m going to be in waaaay over my head but oh well lmao.

the first chapter is still a draft, but this scene is complete. what do we think? should i do it? please let me know your thoughts!

“Frank?” You knelt in front of his wheelchair and placed a gentle hand on his knee. “What is it?”

“We need you to take Gracie with you,” Frank told you, softly. His blue eyes had gone red, brimming with tears that he was trying his absolute hardest to hold back. Behind him, Bill stood there with his hand on his partner’s shoulder and you could have sworn that he was fighting back tears too.

“What?” You and Joel hissed out in unison. While you couldn’t see him, you could imagine the look of shock on his face mirrored yours as well.

“We need you to take her with you,” he repeated.

You stared up at Frank, your eyes wide in pure and utter disbelief. “What are you talking about?”

“Whatever this illness is, it’s progressing fast, way too fast. Look at me. The last time you were here, I could still walk. That was what, just a few months ago?” Frank let out a small and humorless chuckle and shook his head. “I’m getting worse with every day that passes. I can’t do anything for myself, let alone for Gracie. I’m in the most excruciating and unbearable pain and the reality is that I don’t have all that much time left.” He paused, hesitating for a moment before saying, “If I’m going to die, then I’m going to die in peace, not in agony.”

Your heart sank deeply, realizing what he’d meant by that.

“What about Bill?”

Joel’s gruff voice came from behind you, strained and tight.

“He can’t raise her alone. And besides, he’s made his choice to go with me.” Frank put his hand over his beloved partner’s hand, which was still resting on his shoulder.

You glanced over your shoulder back at Joel, who just stood there, the color drained from his face.

“How could we put her through that?” You asked, your voice thick with emotion as you turned back to look at Frank. “Don’t you realize how dangerous it will be for her to go with us?”

“She’s right. We’re goin’ across the fuckin’ country to get Ellie where she needs to be,” Joel reminded them. “We don’t know what kinda shit is out there or what we’re goin’ to run into. So how the fuck do you two expect us to take along a fuckin’ child?”

“Ellie’s a child,” Bill pointed out to him.

“She’s fuckin’ fourteen, not three—”

Frank held up a hand to stop him.

Finally, a tear slid down the side of his face. “Look, this isn’t a choice that we want to make, Joel. But let’s face it. I’m sick and Bill is old. Gracie will wind up alone.” He swallowed harshly, his eyes meeting yours. “I know you just wanted her to be safe, and sure, maybe she was safer with us here than in the zone for a while, but I don’t think that we thought this all the way through. I don’t think we looked far enough into the future. At some point, Gracie was going to lose us both.”

You turned and looked into the living room where Gracie was showing Ellie her favorite teddy bear.

“What’s his name?” Ellie had asked her.

“Teddy.”

She snorted, ruffling her hair. “Real original, kid.”

Gracie giggled, playfully swatting her hand away.

“I know she loses either way.” Frank’s hoarse voice garnered your attention once again. “I know it’s an incredibly dangerous risk, taking her with you. But it’s either that or she winds up alone.”

“We took care of her for as long as we could,” Bill said, quietly. “Now it’s your turn.”

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller series #joel miller angst #pedro pascal characters #;tdtrt #;tra

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babiebom · 1 year ago

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When You Fall (i)

A/N: My first full fic on this blog! Thank you to everyone who voted! I will try my hardest to write and upload quickly, though I am not going to promise anything seeing as I have a job interview this Friday that I'm writing this(already passed by the time this is uploaded) and if I get it I'll be working more often. Though again thank you for voting and I hope you enjoy! Also a bit of a warning, some things from the game are obviously changed to make sense irl, like instead of there just being seasons there are actual months!(pictures not mine.)

Next Masterlist

TW: death, self harm in the form of overworking, cursing, depression, negative thoughts, funerals. Etc just sad

Genres: angst, potential happy ending, romance, some fluff. Multichapter Fic

WC: 4k

You hear your name being called, the voice is quiet under the ringing of your ears.

"Y/N!"

You attempt to force your eyes to adjust on the person, head and neck snapping quickly to face towards them. "Huh"?

"I asked if you were going to be alright getting to the graveyard alone…?"

You nod, swallowing even though your mouth and throat were dry. The funeral home was almost empty now; only you, your aunt and uncle, and a few friends that knew both of your parents and/or grandfather. Standing up straighter, you try to fix your face subtly, trying to act as if you weren't out of it for the entire funeral. "Yeah…yeah, I'll be fine. I promise." You clear your throat and offer her a smile.

She hesitates, lips trembling before she slowly gives you a hug. "Your uncle and I are here for you".

"I know".

As the two leave, as well as the rest of the stragglers, it's only you left with the bodies of your parents and grandfather. A sour laugh leaves your lips, tears kissing the corners of your eyes as you drag your feet closer to their caskets. To keep from crying you clench your jaw and curl your lips inward, slowly becoming overwhelmed with the idea of never seeing any of these three people again. If you would've known this was going to happen, you would've visited more, called more. If you would've known…well it doesn't matter anymore because you didn't know, and now you can't do any of those things.

Slowly and one by one you press a kiss to each of their foreheads, letting your own head rest on top of theirs for just a moment before moving on, hoping the warmth from you would cure the cold coming from them. You stayed there for so long the funeral director had to escort you out, reminding you that they needed to be buried.

Slowly you got into your car, remembering that everyone was probably on their way or already waiting for you and the bodies to show up. They were all going to be buried in Pelican Town, the same place your father had grown up, the same place you spent your summers during your childhood.

Entering Pelican Town, nothing had changed since your childhood, and that made everything worse. Things hadn't changed for the town, and yet it wasn't the same for you. Everything has changed for you. The only difference was a couple new headstones, the graveyard now housing your mother, father, and grandfather; though you had noticed the additions of some that weren't there when you had last been here. The mayor was standing next to the open graves, making your heart clench at the finality of it all; the second they were filled with dirt would mark the last time you ever got to see their faces.

Instead of standing with the rest of the crowd, you stand off to the side, crying silently as you watch the mayor pray over their bodies before they get lowered into the ground. You have to fight yourself to keep from yelling out, knowing that making a scene, making this whole process longer would affect everyone around you. It’s the middle of winter after all, everyone probably wanted to hurry and get back to their regular lives. Swallowing harshley, you only step forward when it's time for all of the guests to throw some dirt on top of the caskets.

“I love you,” you whisper into the air, clenching your eyes closed and tossing the dirt in. A soft thump is all you get in response, the dirt scattering over the caskets. Your mother and father are sharing a grave, and your grandfather was being buried with your grandmother, the two finally being reunited after a decade and some change of being apart.

You move backwards again, allowing the others who had arrived to say their final goodbyes. Avoiding looking at what was happening, you focused on the scenery instead. Pelican Town had always been nice, and being covered by snow it was no different. Everything had sort of a Christmas-y vibe to it, but that only made you feel worse. Letting your eyes continue to roam, you spot some of the towns-people walking around, obviously trying to get a glimpse of what was happening. They were walking far too slow to actually be trying to get somewhere, or maybe the calmness of a small town allowed them to take it easy even when they had errands to run. Your eyes connect with a woman with orange hair, her eyes growing wide the second yours stopped on her. She hurried away as soon as she realized she had been caught watching, moving from the large tree that she was under to presumably hide somewhere else. You scoff and turn your head to watch someone else, not really offended but somewhat annoyed that the public can watch as your normal life is ripped away from you. Bitterly, you wondered when the last time this town had held a funeral, or had even had someone die.

Everything looked peaceful, your presence disrupting the environment and if that woman with the orange hair was anything to go by, this funeral was something that shook the small town that probably knew your grandfather better than you did. You wonder why none of them showed up to the funeral or to this burial. Your thoughts are disrupted by everyone bustling around you, hands on your shoulders words spoken to you, you figure out that the burial is finished by the people moving around you back towards the way you came.

The second you fully realize that the burial had ended, you race out towards your car, not wanting to stop and talk to anyone, not wanting to cry on someone’s shoulders. You decide then that the best course of action would be to throw yourself into your work. So, without another glance back, you drive away from Pelican Town, hoping you would never have to return to the place again.

Scrunching up your nose and frowning, you slam the drawer to your desk harder than you need to, ignoring the sound of the contents inside spilling and moving around. The sound of typing overwhelms your senses, and unlike the persona you’ve put on for the past couple of months, you get up and stalk towards the bathrooms. As you pass the other cubicles, the oncoming anxiety attack immediately takes over your being.

You push open the bathroom door, wheezing and trying to suck in as much breath as you can. Yet it still feels like you’re drowning, as if every breath you suck in is instead water, and it’s impossible for you to come up to the surface. You fall onto the sink, leaning over it and heaving. Your legs threatened to give out, not wanting to hold you up any longer. Giving in, you allow yourself to sink to the dirty bathroom floor, dragging yourself in between the sinks and the wall, the gross overhead light giving you a headache.

Your body shakes, still struggling to breathe. As you close your eyes, flashes of the funeral and the last time you saw each of them alive consume you. The second your ears start to ring, you realize that you’re already too far gone, and any of your attempts to self soothe were now made in vain because you couldn’t calm down. You needed help, but at the same time that was the last thing that you wanted. You can feel yourself shake, violently, and your head falls back and forth as you shake, and in the madness you realize that someone was shaking you, it wasn’t you yourself. “Please!” you heard someone plead, yet they sounded too far away from you.

You open your mouth to reply, but nothing comes out of it, you want them to go away, and to leave you spiraling here on the ground, and in the back of your cloudy mind you hope that you still get paid for having this breakdown during work hours. Joja Co. wouldn’t take away your wages for this, right? You’re shaken again, this time rougher and your eyes begin to focus on someone kneeling in front of you. The ugliness that was Joja blue assaulting your eyes. You groan, and as you feel yourself begin to surface, realize that you had been screaming. Your throat now raw and hoarse as you begin to calm.

The woman in front of you is someone you recognize, though you couldn’t recall her name. You only knew her as your supervisor that you rarely actually saw in the office, and behind her were two coworkers looking absolutely frightened and worried for you. Swallowing, you shake your head and haul yourself off of the ground, muttering a ‘sorry’ and pushing your way out of the bathroom. It was painful, the walk back to your cubicle, everyone was simultaneously watching you, but still not really looking at you. As if they wanted to pretend that your breakdown didn’t happen, and you are all too aware of how insane you probably looked, coming out of the bathroom with puffy red eyes, and messed up hair.

It wasn’t uncommon for someone to have a breakdown at work, the expectations of your superiors and the company itself were always too much for some people to handle, yet you realized that you probably looked different than them, having run all the way to the bathroom, and not out the doors to the elevators. After a breakdown, the person always quits, yet here you are, sitting silently in your cubicle, brushing your hair out of your face as if everything was normal.

Again you open the drawer and look at the letter that had arrived on your desk weeks ago.

Dear, Y/N

If you’re reading this, you must be in dire need of a change.

The same thing happened to me, long ago.

I’d lost sight of what mattered most in life…real connections with other people and nature. So I dropped everything and moved to the place I truly belong.

I’ve enclosed the deed to that place…my pride and joy: New Hope Farm. It’s located in Stardew Valley, on the southern coast. It’s the perfect place to start your new life.

This was my most precious gift of all, and now it’s yours. I know you’ll honor the family name, my grandchild.

Good luck.

Love, Grandpa.

P.S. If Lewis is still alive, say hi to the old guy for me, will ya?

Taking in a breath, you laugh quietly to yourself. Your face still wet from your tears. It was ridiculous, hilarious even, that the very place you wanted to return to ends up the very place you flee in order to get back to yourself.

You can hear clacks of shoes nearing you, coming from the direction of the same bathroom you just fled from. The woman stops in front of the opening to your cubicle. Staring down at you in your seat with aggravated eyes. The lack of concern annoys you to your very core, and with the least amount of emotion you can muster, you stare back up at her, the letter wrinkled in your hand.

"Yes?"

"That little breakdown you had there was very disruptive," she shifts her weight, "now you're one of your best workers, so we'll give you another chance, but next time something this unprofessional happens we'll have to let you go."

"Right," you swallow harshly, "about that, I need to take time off."

"Time off? Why do you need to take time off?" She asks loudly. You can see the people across from you look over with wide eyes. Vacations were never accepted, and were more likely to be taken as an insult.

"Well, half of my family has just died...and I don't think I have a good enough mental state to-"

"We gave you time off already, we let you go to the funeral and have an extended weekend. How much more time do you need?"

You scoff in disbelief, the woman staring at you with all seriousness of a person who has just been told the worst joke in the world. Did she not just witness the breakdown you just had? You sit back roughly in your chair, running a hand through your hair. Your patience started to run thin with the woman, and so in a huff you slam down the letter rather roughly before looking back up at her.

"Can I take a vacation or not?"

She gasps before angling her body back, now glaring daggers at you. "I am the boss, you do what I say. You've already taken time off, so you don't need any more. I'm really very disappointed in you-"

"But-"

"-and I don't think you realize just how lucky you are to be working for Joja Corporation. There's no other job as liberating and rewarding than working for and growing the Joja family."

You make a noise of indignation, completely taken aback with how she had decided to handle this situation, especially after seeing you in the worst state you've ever been in. "You know what?" You slam your hand on your desk, letting out a huff of air through your nose, now staring at the place your hand had settled. "I quit!"

You turn to watch her face as your words sink in. She splutters and takes in breaths as she struggles to come up with something to say as a retort. Laughing loudly in her face, you stand and push past her, going straight towards the supply closet, where you know there are extra boxes. Picking up the smallest that could fit all of your things, you completely ignore your now ex-supervisors desperate pleas. "You have to put in a 2 week notice!"

"Nah, no I don't." You shake your head, now filling the box with all of your things. You'd rather die than leave any of your cute cubicle things behind for them to throw away. Smirking, you carefully place the last plant you had on top of the other knick knacks you had, looking over to the angry woman with the best shit eating grin you could muster.

"I would say it was a pleasure to work with you, but that would be a lie."

The time taken to get back to Pelican Town was doubled due to you selling your car and opting to take the bus instead, and in that time you started to rethink your plan of starting anew without any backup plan. Everyone else that was riding with you had gotten off long ago, and you were left with those who were just along for the ride, having nothing else to do but stay until they were kicked off.

You were grateful for the emptiness though, no one spoke a word on the way there; they simply allowed you to exist among them, thinking your thoughts without interruption.

You grunt in pain as you're launched out of your seat, suitcases toppling over loudly. Embarrassed, you scramble to get up, hoping no one was secretly laughing at you because it would honestly cause another breakdown. The bus driver shouted out your arrival, staring at you specifically through the rear view mirror. Sniffing, you grab your suitcases and hurry off of the bus, squinting from the change of lighting.

"Hello! You must be Y/N" an orange haired woman standing waiting at the bus stop, friendly looking and sweaty. "I'm Robin, the local carpenter. Mayor Lewis sent me here to fetch you and show you the way to your new home. He's there now, tidying things up for your arrival."

You stare at her before taking her hand in a firm shake. She's pretty, and young looking but from the look at her hands she had to be older than you think. Her grip takes you off guard only slightly, rough calluses coming in contact with your own soft skin. You nod and grab your things again, wanting to get out from under the sun. There was a cool breeze cooling your skin, but just having been on a musty bus for the past couple of hours made you feel grosser than you normally would've.

"The farm's right over here, if you'll follow me"

You want to tell her that you already know the way, that you've been here multiple times in your childhood, but you stay quiet not wanting to bring up memories that will just hurt you. You think staying silent is an even better idea when she takes two of your suitcases and heads down the road.

Walking in silence is awkward for the first minute, and so you begin a conversation that you already regret happening the moment the first syllable leaves your mouth. "So," you swallow thickly, "how long have you been waiting out here?"

She shakes her head and scrunches her nose. "Not long, maybe 15 minutes? First day of Spring is always brutal with the weather change."

You nod and keep walking, wanting to ask her more questions, yet you know that it would only serve to make everything more awkward. "Do you want something to drink? I have like a spare Gatorade if you're thirsty."

She makes a noise of acceptance and takes the drink from you, gulping it down quickly. The walk takes about 5 more minutes before you make it to a broken down fence.

"This is New Hope Farm."

You gasp loudly, a choked noise forcing its way out of your throat at the look of it. Grass overgrown, trees everywhere, boulders. It looked as if the place had been abandoned for years, and maybe it has been. Your grandfather must've been too old to continue the last couple of years, having been bedridden the months before his passing. The air smells fresh, though, fresher than you've ever smelled it before, at least since you've grown up. A sense of calm settles over your being, just over the hurt and anxiety. At least you're okay for now.

"What's the matter? Sure it's a bit overgrown, but there's some good soil underneath that mess! With a little dedication you'll have it cleaned up in no time."

You smile at her as you open the gate for you both, entering the messy fields. It's another minute and a half before you actually make it to the farmhouse, "and here we are, your new home".

You raise your eyebrows at the look of your grandfather's old cottage, it being slightly run down since you had seen it last. Your heart clenched at the sight, realizing that everything did in fact get old without you, or maybe alongside you. Taking in a deep breath, you jump as the door to the house opens loudly. A man, shortish and white haired leaves out of it. He looks slightly familiar, but obviously older.

"Ah, the new farmer! Welcome I'm Lewis, Mayor of Pelican Town." You wait for him to descend the steps, stopping in front of you. You faintly remember him, with less whites in his head and a smaller mustache. His old hat on top of his head is the same from when you were little. You shake his hand, reminding him that you had met him before.

"Ah, my apologies!"

You shake your head with a small smile, slowly getting tired of pleasantries. "It's fine I was like…maybe 9 the last time I saw you."

The conversation staggers a bit before Lewis sucks in a breath.

"You know, everyone's been asking about you. It's not every day that someone new moves in. It's quite a big deal!" He looks around, a flicker of sadness in his eyes causing you to wonder how close he and your grandfather were.

"So...you're moving into your grandfather's old cottage. It's a good house…very 'rustic'." You raise an eyebrow at his words, it was obvious that the house had seen better days.

"Rustic? That's one way to put it. 'Crusty' might be a little more apt though." Robin remarks, looking around.

"Rude!" Lewis gasps, whirling around to stare at Robin in shock. You guess it's the fastest he's moved in a while because his hands grasp at his knees for a split second.

The woman lets out a laugh, slapping a hand over her lips in amusement. You let out a snort, silently agreeing with her.

"Don't listen to her, Y/N. She's just trying to make you dissatisfied so that you buy one of her house upgrades." Lewis says, sending the woman a glare. Robin, in turn, gasps in shock, her eyes darting between you two before frowning and huffing. Maybe she was trying to get you to buy an upgrade.

"Anyway…you must be tired from the long journey. You should get some rest. Tomorrow you ought to explore the town a bit and introduce yourself. The townspeople would appreciate that." You nodded to him, but refused in your mind, not wanting to go parading around town introducing yourself to the villagers like some happy-go-lucky extroverted tv character. Lewis begins to leave, but stops a couple feet, maybe even a yard away. He has to yell in order to speak to you, and you sort of understand when you would rather not have to walk all the way back just to leave again.

"Oh I almost forgot. If you have anything to sell just place it in this box here. I'll come by during the night to collect it. Well…good luck!" His voice is strained, when he shouts. You smile and wave, saying a goodbye to Robin as she walks after him. Turning to the cottage, you feel a sense of overwhelming sadness, your chest growing tight. You know that grieving is a process, and that healing isn’t a linear path, but a thought pops into your mind that this was a bad idea. How are you meant to process, heal, and move on when you’re surrounded by things that make you want to tear your hair out? Sighing, you head inside, setting your things down and snatching an axe off of the wall.

You think to yourself that the healing can come later, preferably after you demolish the trees taking over the land, at least you’ll be able to see far enough to farm. Stepping back out into the sun, you get to work swinging the axe over your head as well as you can. The thump of the axe embedding itself into the tree sends vibrations up into your bones, yet the pain and unfamiliarity of the feeling makes you feel lighter than you had in weeks. Maybe you just had anger issues. But, chasing that feeling you swing again, and again, and again until both the tree and it’s stump has been reduced to logs that you could pick up.

You leave the logs on the ground and move on to the next tree, and then the next, and you keep going until you can feel the sweat drip down your back, pooling around the edge of your jeans and your hips. Your breaths come in short, you huffing as you try to bring the axe overhead once more. Your chest is tight, and your head feels as if it’s not screwed all the way on. ‘One more time.’ You think to yourself, bringing the axe upwards. You can tell that the tree was close to being fully chopped down, and so with the last of your energy, you force yourself to at least complete it. Telling yourself that it was more about clearing everything quickly, you knew deep down that you just wanted to feel something other than sorrow. Your arms shake as the tool almost slips out of your grasp above your head. Arms burning, you force them forwards as you swing down, you hear the thump of the axe in the wood, and you fall over ears ringing, your vision fading to black.

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mayasaurusss · 9 months ago

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Chapter one: Old tales.

Warnings: midly detailed description of wounds, not totally proof-read, gramamtical errors.

A/n: I'm really really scared to publish this (I'm shttng myself). The title is not really for my liking, maybe I will change it. English is not my native language so there may be some errors. Words: 4k and 500

"...will replace number eleven, Allie, after her accidental injury due to breaking her leg during practice" you heard coach Ben's words, but didn't fully register them yet.

Mere days have passed since Allie broke her leg, or to be exact, her leg was broken by Taissa.

When Allie broke her leg, you were on the bench, having had to swap with her during practice. You were relaxing, enjoying the sun when Misty walked over to you and started rambling about the most random things she could say, something about a philosopher, Misty was Misty after all. You weren’t really sure on how to even talk to her, so you just stayed silent, nodding sometimes while she talked, but your mind didn’t register anything of what she said. Misty-trance was so strong that, at first, you didn’t hear Allie screaming in agony. Your mind went into panic mode only when Misty bolted from her seat next to you to the green field: from your position on the bench you couldn’t see it but as you got closer to the scene, you saw Allie clenching her leg, her bone sticking out, pure white contrasting with the deep red of her flesh.

"... did you hear me?" you hear your name begin called, you peered at coach Ben.

"...What?"

"I asked if you'd like to replace Allie as the winger for the Nationals," coach repeated himself.

"Sure..." your voice was small, truth to be told, you weren't sure of this decision.

You weren't that brilliant as a player, certainly not that better than Allie, but at least you could fulfill your duty pretty well, you just weren't that certain you could perform well in such a big game. And, you weren’t exactly the most loved player of the team.

When you looked up, you could see all your teammates look at you weirdly, judging you and your absent demeanor.

"Despite what happened to Allie, we're gonna go to the Nationals, we're going to go and we're going to win, all right?" Ben said to the team, not receiving a response.

"All right?"

"Yes coach" the team responded in unison.

You gathered your things, heading out of the changing room when Shauna approached.

"Hey, are you all right? You seemed a bit shaken up before" Shuna Shipman was one of the few people in the team that talked to you, you used to be more of a loner but she and Jackie too, sometimes involved you in their conversation, you didn’t know if they did it out of pity or real interest.

"I am ok, I think. I'm just scared that I'm not gonna live up to the team's expectations, that's all".

Shauna smiled at you, "You're going to be great, don't worry, you'll just have to think you're playing during one of our practices".

"Thanks Shauna" she could always be kind, though her eyes were so deep and dark you felt lost looking at them, making you feel little and scared.

"The team will go to a party today to celebrate our success, are you going to come?" she asked.

"I don't know, I think I'm going to go back home tonight so I can spend the last night with my parents" you answered Shauna, you knew from deep down that as soon as you said that, you doomed yourself to 'unsocial girl' of the group.

“I see…” Shauna’s gaze felt heavy on you.

“Well, I’m gonna go” you slumped your bag over your shoulder and bid goodbye to Shauna, getting out of the changing room.

Rain pours heavily, pooling at your feet and wetting every inch of you, your shoes sink in cold puddles and your skin feels uncomfortably damp.

You had been walking for half an hour, being that your home was in the outskirts of Wiskayok and the bus hadn’t yet come, your best chance was walking to another bus stop and waiting there; walking under the rain had proved to be more challenging than you thought, especially when the wet asphalt made you slip.

At last you arrived at the bus stop and shielded yourself from the heavy rain. You sat on the bench, waiting for the bus which had to come in a few minutes now, so preoccupied with trying not to slip and break a bone you had almost lost track of time and missed the bus.

You hold your face in yout hands, retaking in the events of the day and wishing Allie wouldn’t have broken her leg: you couldn’t perform well under pressure at all, you remeber once when you had to perform a penalty shoot during pratice and failed miserably, while all of the team watched you. The thought of people watching, watching you inevitably fail made you recoil in fear.

A sudden noise interrupted your thoughts, something moved just inches away from you, hiding in the corner of the bus stop. You couldn’t make it out in the darkness, but your ears picked up on the fact that whatever it was small or certainly small enough for you to defend yourself. You jolted up, arms at your side tightening and muscles moving under the skin, ready to flight at any second.

A ruff of red puffed out from the shadows, followed by a movement, whatever it was was now turning on you, having heard your noises. Two pairs of golden eyes peered at you from under the dark, studying your form and stance; maybe it was scared of you too. Slowly, ever so slowly, from the dark corner a fox appeared: it was bigger than you imagined, it was as tall as half of your leg, red and orange and white shades coloured its fur. It looked soft, the kind of fur that shielded from the cold winds of winter, a thin layer of what seemed to look like snow heaved on the tip of its coat and nose, tinting it white. Golden eyes reflected the dim street lights, giving it an eerie human look. It didn’t seem malicious, but there certainly was something unnerving in its presence.

“There shouldn't be any snow on you, it’s raining…” your voice was small, almost muffled, like sound and time stopped right here, under the roof of the bus stop.

It continued to watch you, you, you, you in the eyes, your face, how you were. For a small second, you felt tightly connected with it.

Something talked, you didn’t know if it was your brain, your subconscious or the fox magically knew how to telepathically communicate with you but you heard thousand of tree whispers and thousand of voices reunited and combined to talk to you, to say “Come”.

Your skin freezed, blood running cold in your veins and feeling like it dripped from your fingers onto the floor. Goosebumps fell down your spine and in your mouth flooded the taste of blood, you had bit your tongue in fear.

The fox watched you, puffing its chest and with hurry, ran behind the bus stop into the dark woods. You didn't know what compelled you to do it, but you followed it, cornering around the stop expecting to see it waiting for you at the line of the trees, but you found nothing staring at you beside the darkness.

Lights shined through the rain, finally the bus had come. With newfound energy, you sprinted in it and almost tumbled over, making the driver eye you in confusion. You searched for a seat, finding it in the middle of the bus. You were still shaken up, not by the fact that you encountered a possibly dangerous wild animal, but at the fact that something talked clearly at you. Arms wrapping themselves you didn't fail to notice a small pair of golden eyes watching you from the darkness and as the bus moved, you lost sight of them.

“Come”.

“Mhm…no”

Shauna moves back to the clothes, changing once again her dress.

"You know, there’s Randy tonight at the party”.

Huh? Why did she brought up Randy? I don't care about him.

“...ok” Shauna once again changed, once again she received the same response from her best friend.

“He asked Jeff to ask me if you’re gonna be there”

“Randy? Really?”

“What? I just thought you wanted to know if someone asked about you”

Wow, ok.

“Shauna, just put on the red dress I gave you”

Am I your dress-up doll Jackie?

“Maybe I don’t want to wear the red dress, and I’m sure as hell I don’t want to hook up with Randy -fucking- Walsh!”

Why can’t you see me? I don’t want to be with Randy, I want…

Jackie was taken back from Shauna's sudden outburst “Jeez, what crawled up your ass? Just put on whatever you want…”

“Thanks, I will”

The room filled with uncomfortable silence. Jackie felt like she just managed to ruin the night for both her and Shauna.

“...You’re probably right about Randy, you know? I once saw him having trouble with an escalator”

Shauna cracked a smile, even in the most dire situations Jackie never failed to make her laugh “I once heard him ask who invented the Pope”.

Around 9 a.m, most of the soccer team arrived. There was a faint smell of earth in the air, covered by the smell of booze and fire.

Shauna had followed after Jackie, just like the shadow Jackie wanted her to be -or did she want to be Jackie’s shadow?- she stood out among the other girl friends, she knew she didn’t belong here.

Shauna stopped Jackie from dancing with her, her stomach clenching “Wait, l need a second” without waiting for a response, she walked away and Jackie did not bother following her.

Shauna leaned against a pickup, watching Jackie in the distance.

To her, in that instant, while she was enjoying her night with her friends she looked ethereal. Shauna could not understand if she wanted to be with Jackie, if she wanted to be Jackie or if she wanted to consume her. Shauna can’t understand if what she’s feeling is longing, loneliness or anger, anger towards Jackie, for not spending time with her, for not begin with her. Shauna chugged down the alcohol burning her throat. Her emotions were too much, she had to go away, to get away from Jackie, it didn’t help that behind her Randy fucking Walsh was drunk off his ass and bothering her.

She had to release her pent up energy, -she had to get Jackie’s attention- , so she walked to where Taissa was, willing to start a fight.

“I admire your resilience Tai” Shauna’s voice was bitter, deliberately trying to get Tai angry and argue with her. “It can’t be easy, knowing you fucking crippled someone today”

“Cool, good talk”. A vein in Shauna’s head pulsed “Just admit you did it on purpose” she yelled, “Excuse me?”

Away from her, Laura Lee recognized her teammates voices, she saw Taissa and Shauna talk to each other.

“Woah, calm down”

“No, listen you guys, we don't have to worry about the ‘Allie problem’ anymore because Taissa fixed it for us!”

Laura Lee walked over to the scene, leaning near Natalie “What is she talking about?” she asked.

“She’s talking about Taissa having a plan”

Taissa visibly rolled her eyes at their exchange “Oh please, since when do you give a shit anyway? Don’t you have a bong to hit or a dick to suck?”

“Don’t talk to her that way”

“Fuck off Shauna! I don’t need you to defend me! Last time I checked you were fine with ‘freezing her out’”

“Ok, seriously, what are you guys talking about?”

“Shut the fuck up, Laura Lee!”

The atmosphere got heated, both Taissa and Shuna were too stubborn to let the other one ‘win the fight’ .

“Somebody needs to take her wasted ass home”

“Say that again you bitch!”. A fight broke between the group, everyone screaming their asses off.

“Enough!” Jackie screamed, the others hushed. Everyone was watching the group, all the eyes of the party on them.

“Yellowjackets, with me!” Jackie said, leading the group to a secluded space.

“I don’t know what the fuck that was, but I do know it’s over” Shauna shifted uncomfortably under Jackie’s gaze.

“We are about to go to Nationals, and based on what I’m looking at right now, we might not even bother getting on that plane” the underlying message wasn’t missed by the team: they weren’t close enough, they weren’t ready enough.

“Alright, everybody line up. I’m fucking serious, line up, come on!” The girls lined up one near the other, waiting for Jackie’ orders “I wan’t each of you to go down this line and say one nice, true thing about every other girl on this team”

“What is this, fucking girl scout?” Taissa's annoyed voice whispered to Van. “Who wants to go first?” Jackie asked. Laura Lee smiled “I’ll go Jackie”

She walked over to Taissa, looked her in the eyes and took her hands in hers, “Taissa, you’re beautiful in the eyes of our Lord” making Taissa smile -maybe more like trying to hold her laugh-. Laura Lee moved to Van, repeating herself when she was interrupted, everyone laughing. Everyone in the group moved, going to ‘say something nice and true’ to their teammates.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier” Shauna said to Tai, dark eyes burning a hole in Tai’s skin. Taissa looked at Shauna, voice unsure and laced with regret “I didn’t -you know- mean to…hurt her”

“...ok”

Laura Lee walked to Lottie, her hands rubbing nervously: sometimes Lottie made her tense. She didn’t know if it was out of fear or respect for the girl, or if it was some sort of other emotion plaguing her heart. With a bit of uncertainty, Laura Lee looked up at her teammate, “Lottie, you’re really tall, you are one of the best players in the team, and I admire your strength. And, you're beautiful in our Lord's eyes”. Lottie just smiled, that smile that reassured Laura Lee that everything would be fine “Laura Lee, you have a beautiful soul and you are a great friend. I admire your devotion” Lottie said.

“Thanks, really. Wouldn’t you want to spend some words for Y/n?”

Suddenly, Lottie’s voice got sour, her brown knitted together “Why would I want that? It’s not like she’s here, no?”

Laura Lee knew that by how Lottie reacted, she had unknowingly pushed something inside her: Lottie had tried and failed to be friends with the other girl, but the -Operation: become friends- had failed on both ends because of Lottie stubbornness (and secret shyness) and the other girl not knowing how to relate herself with others.

“I know it’s just that she’s not really part of our group and I feel bad for her...”

“If she wanted to be part of our group, she would’ve come” Lottie wanted to go away, the air seemed thick now and a faint headache was starting to form. She started to walk away when Laura Lee stopped her, grabbing her arm.

“I understand why you would think so, but I think she's just shy or lonley. Maybe she requires a bit more of work to get her to open up her shell”. She took Lottie’s hands in hers, rubbing at the skin to soothe the other girl's tension.

“You should aske her to sit next to you on the flight” .

“...alright”.

You stumbled into your home, leaving a wet trail behind you. The house was dark, dark and cold, shadows looming over the corners of the room.

I hope no foxes magically get out of them and make me shit myself, you thought with a bitter smile, still not feeling completly safe.

You called out for your parents but no one answered. Taking your phone out you saw a missed called and a message from your father

“Hey kid, just a heads up, me and your mother are going on a date, we will be home late tonight, in the fridge there’s a leftover pizza. Be safe”.

You sighed, you couldn’t blame this on them really, you knew they had a date and they still didn’t know that you’d be gone to the Nationals soon, besides you still had a few days to spend with them.

After dinner, you went upstairs to your bedroom. It’s dimly lit, shadows creep in the high corners, making your skin crawl. On the nightstand, an old copy of ‘Grimm’s Tales’ sat, the one that your grandfather gave to you some weeks before passing, when you were just eight. It was meant for children apparently, but it was more like pages of pages of inducing nightmares stories: young women envied by queens, of children in woods being chased by wolves or finding an evil witch house. You were still reading when you fell asleep.

That night you dreamt. You dreamt of thousands of trees, branches tangling with each other so much that you couldn’t see the dark night sky. The woods were silent, fog embraced them and not giving you enough space to see. In the distance a howl echoed out, something that sounded angry, angry and hungry. Your skin crawled, cold shivers running down your spine and without thinking, you ran.

You ran not knowing where to go, without guidance while the howl got closer and closer, branches scratching at your skin staining it of red. The howl multiplied, as if whatever was chasing you had called its companions. Skin bloodied, lungs burning in pain, eyes watering, sky crashing on you.

Finally your energies gave out, mouth tasting the dirt beneath you. Something grasped at your body, hands prying you up, someone was holding you to their front, brushing your hair out of their way to your neck. You felt someone biting at your jugular, blood oozing from the open wound. Hands, so many hands touched your skin, clawed at it, brushed your blood away from bruises into the dark surrounding you. Teeth, thousands of teeth clenching your skin, grounding on it, ripping it open, eating like the prey you were, like a fox caught between the jaws of a bear.

You woke up from your nightmare, sweaty and with a heart beating irregularly. 2:02 am. You looked at your book still open in your hands, fingers keeping it open on the middle of 'Red Riding Hood'. Your body fell back on the bed, sleep overcoming once again. “I really shouldn’t keep on reading these books…”

On the other side of town, Lottie dreamt too. But hers was a good dream unlike the ones she had the previous weeks. Lottie wouldn't wish anyone to know but she too was scared of playing in the Nationals; the tension is what to her the the woods looked more alive than ever now, she did so much to keep them alive, offered so much of herself to the woods that now they thanked her in return. The voice spoke to her, whispering through the trees, animals and wind and leaves all swirled togheter to create It.

She wouldn’t give this gift to any one, the times she tried talking about it, talking with her parents, her father got mad and screamed at her mother - “Lottie doesn’t see the future, she’s not normal. We’re taking her to a child psychiatrist”-.

She never understood if he did it out of love or disinterest to have her around. It favored her, this secret is just for her. Before coming to have an audience with it, she had positioned small wooden dolls in a circle, one for each of them. But they were sad. She couldn’t understand why,

Why are you crying? Yes, it began snowing and it's cold but can’t you hear It?

Why? Can’t you hear Its voice?

Can’t you hear the woods?

Finally it was the morning of your flight. You got up at five am, too nervous to go back to sleep and started to recap if you got everything for the trip. At seven am you had eaten breakfast with your parents and bid goodbye to your mom, kissing her on the cheek “Be safe”.

Your father drew you to the airport, “Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you near the plane? Your bags are heavy”; bless your mother, even if you did pack enough, she just had to help you pack, inevitably heaving you down “Take this sweater if it’s cold, you never know, and these pants, and this shirt, and these…” you had to physically stop her to pack more.

“I think I’m capable of carrying them on my own, I don’t want the other girls to see me as a ‘daddy’s-girl’”.

You got out of the car, grabbed all your bags and walked to the driver seat “Alright then, have you packed enough?” you looked at your father with a look that said ‘seriously?’.

“Fair enough…”

Your dad ruffled your hair, “Call when you get there, ok? Become a champion”. You gave him a corny smile, “Sure dad”.

“Have a safe flight!”, he drove away, you watched as the small car disappeared from your sight then walked to where your teammates were. When you got there, all the team saw was a make-shift Santa Claus coming to them.

“Heyyy, forgot to pack something? Mommy helped you?” Tai said to you sarcastically.

“Tai, enough” Van answered, making her friend scoff. The bags hit the floor, you let out a heavy sigh at the action finally free from the weight. “Don't mind her, she's just a bitter asshole”, Taissa scoffed at her friend “Oh fuck off”.

Lottie and Laura Lee were close, watching the exchange between you and Van “Lottie! Come on, go!” she wisphered to her taller friend. Lottie shifted uncomfortably on her legs, hands rubbing together behind her back, she walked to where you were, followed by Laura Lee “Hey…” her called, small and unsure “Hi”.

Lottie wasn’t one to be awkward, most of the time, but confronting you one on one made her feel less confident in herself and

“So, uhm… how are you today?” she cringed at herself.

"You should ask her to sit next to you on the trip" Laura Lee voice chimed in her head

“Huh…good, I think? How are you?”

“I see, uh, yeah yeah, I’m good too”

Silence fell over you, both not making an effort in trying to make small talk.

The staff announced that they were ready to leave.

Van chimed near you, draggin you with her “Hey, you want to sit next to me? We should be friends” she playfully said to you. Laura Lee sighed, “Oh... We'll get to know her once we land” she patted her teammate on the shoulder.

The inside of the plane was modern, everyone was mouth agape.

Van laughed “I’ can’t believe your dad paid for a private plane”

“It’s pretty much his only form of parenting. I guess I’ll take it”

“Well, thank you, Mr Matthews!”

Every girl in the team sat, Van tugged you with her near her seat, you fell between her and the window.

“So, what do you like?” Van asked, a smile forming on her lips

“W-What?”

“What do you like? As in movies, games, magazines? Is there something you even like?”

Oh, did she want to sit with me to make fun of me?

“Uhm… The last movie I got to see in theaters was 'Intervew with the Vampire'...but that was sometime ago ”.

“No way! Really?! Did you go alone?”.

“Yes…”

Her mouth was agape with shock, “Wow, I wouldn’t have your courage, you know? I like those movies -well, I like slashers more- but if I’d see one alone, I have nightmares for weeks” . You smiled and laughed with her, she was trying to make you feel less lonley “The last movies I have seen were ‘Halloween' and ‘Braveheart’”.

“What’s that last one about?”

“A drag queen fights the English army”.

“What?!” you laughed wholeheartedly with Van, she was holding your arm in a subtle effort to include you more and more into this conversation. “You know, there’s this movie that's supposed to come out in december, it’s called ‘Scream’ and it’s supposedly a slasher, I can’t wait to see it. I’m gonna need someone to keep me company though, I'm not really that brave”.

You looked at her “Whit who?” asked, “Maybe you, maybe Taissa”.

“Ohhhh, I see”

She playfully shoved you, “What do you ‘see’, moron?”.

After a while of talking, your eyelids started to get heavier, begging you to take just a tiny nap. “I think I’m going to sleep for a bit, I’ve woken up so early today…”

“Sure, I’ll wake you up when we got there”. You closed your eyes, sleep overcame you faster than you expected.

You were hungry, you finally managed to catch dinner after a while of running and biting and howling in the woods, she fell so dumbly into the trap, you wouldn’t ever die like this if you were in her position. Blood runs down to earth, tinting the snow red. She was so stupid to get caught. The queen had made you wait, telling you that a meal is far more filling when you are patient. But you had been patient for oh so long, always grumbling and biting at your own flesh to keep your hunger at bay.

When the queen nodded, all moved to the dinner plate like hawks, bit and ripped and grounded the meat under their teeth, surrounded by the flickering lights of the torches. If one doesn't think too much of it, this was just like the holidays you used to have once, food and lights. After all, a family's most intimate moment is at the dinner table. None was left of her. It was still watching you.

Scream erupted from the deep woods, you looked at the trees, your hair disheveld, face dirty , a trail of blood running down on the right side and dripping from the chin.

You woke up from your haze, screaming filled the plane. “Van?! Van, what’s happening?!” Van is desperately trying to get out something from the ceiling above you , punching and screaming while everyone around you was either hugging each other, passed out or panicking. You felt your fingers weakening, trying to help Van and failing to get out the oxygen masks, dizziness overcame your senses, breathing erratic, goosebumps on your skin, eyelids heavy.

Lottie took your hand, ushering you gently to follow her, “Come on”.

You felt something hot travel up on your arm.

“It’s time to go”.

What’s happening?

Green trees are getting closer, your eyes roll to the back of your head and you lose yourself.

“We have to hunt”.

Am I going to die?

“We have to eat”

I don’t want to die!

“Is the meat cooked well enough, dear?”

Mom?

The plane is crashing.

“Did you liked dinner?”

L-Lottie?

You can't breathe.

Help me!

A voice called out to you in thousands of whispers.

“Come”.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets fic #yellowjackets fanfic #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews x you #lottielee #jackieshauna #taivan #dark fic

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galaxy-fleur · 2 months ago

Note

What did you think of Leon and Ada's new relationship in the remakes? Meta wise

I think it's an interesting and more nuanced take on their relationship! Which I definitely like. I see no point in judging OG RE2's love story between them, no matter how cliché and nonsensical it is. It's a product of its time, and it's charming in its own cheesy way. Teenage me cried over Ada's death in there, so I do have a soft spot for it.

But the Remakes offer a fresh interpretation of what happened between them, and I'm definitely interested to see where they will take their relationship in the future (that is if they do, because I wouldn't mind them just having separate story arcs from now on).

If we're talking actual analysis, I'll put down my thoughts. I don't know if you can call it a full-on analysis per se, as it's more just me writing out my personal interpretations on things. So keep that in mind please!

Long post under the cut. I'm talking almost 4k words and way too many shitty gifs (I have no time to make them all polished). I have way too much to say. I'll basically be going over their entire relationship throughout RE2R and RE4R so... yeah.

RE2R and RE4R are two games that offer a full story for Leon's character, and that's a very awesome thing that Capcom has done. I'd even say it's one of the best things they've done with RE recently. Making RE4R feel like a direct continuation to Leon's arc in RE2R makes total sense, and it makes many scenes in RE4R that much more satisfying to play through.

While RE2R does end on a somewhat positive note (much like every RE game has to), Leon's arc in it is very much negative. He loses more than he gains, he's unable to save anyone, and his good intentions end up being used against him. Claire ends her RE2R story by saving a little girl she has come to care for. Leon ends his RE2R story by losing the G-sample, 'losing' Ada without getting much, if any, closure from her, and not saving even a single person he has encountered. Claire and Sherry don't really count in Remake-verse (which I kinda don't like) because their storylines mostly happened separately from each other.

And that's not mentioning that he gets (assumedly, and I am very much hoping we'll finally see more concrete scenes of how it all happened in Remake-verse) pretty much kidnapped and forced into a life he never wanted right after. To say that Leon can't get a break in RE2R is like saying nothing at all. Poor guy gets put through the wringer on every level.

Now, onto his relationship with Ada, and how it ties into everything... It should be said that, while he obviously grows to care about her throughout their short time spent together, he remains suspicious of her. RE2R Leon is naive, but I often feel like people make him too naive. He's not an idiot. He tries over and over again to get answers from her, and he clearly feels apprehensive with her. And I mean... that makes sense. While she does save him multiple times, she keeps her distance from him.

I'd say he starts opening up to her on an emotional level after witnessing Robert having to kill off his own daughter. He directly confronts her, demanding for answers and voicing his drive to do what's right. In a way, that's him showing his vulnerability to her. And Ada uses it against him. After all, it's a perfect opportunity to play on his (rather naive) determination to be the hero to help her achieve her own goals. Ada is also the only figure of 'authority' he has at the moment. Even if her claim of being FBI seems kinda off, she's the only one he has.

And I'll go over Ada and how I interpret her later. For now, just keep in mind that her using Leon is more of a gray area than just some horrible, disgusting thing. I'm just going over the events from Leon's viewpoint here.

So, they team up. Ada starts softening up to him. They share light banter with each other: 'A: After you. L: Gee, thanks.' She expresses concern over his safety (the alligator scene). I'd say that's the point where he starts to care for her on a more personal level from before. As you would.

Him taking a bullet for her was instinctual. I'd say it's a more pivotal moment for Ada's character here rather than Leon's. In Leon's case it's moreso her taking care of him right after that matters. He directly mentions it to her later on (at least I'm pretty sure his 'you protected me' referred to that). I'd say him waking up to find himself tucked in with her coat and his wound taken care of was the moment his 'I care because it's another person who's in this with me' turned into 'I care because I feel genuine attachment to this person'.

Was it romantic? I'd say that's left for you to interpret how you wish. I like to think of it as him just caring for her as a person. Leon is someone who cares very deeply for others, and he's always striving to be the protector to those around him. I kind of think that someone caring for him when he's weak and vulnerable is something that is very meaningful to him. Now, Ada saves him multiple times at that point. But that's the first instance of her arguably going beyond what's needed. Sure, taking care of his wound was necessary, although she could have just let him be as he was for all we know. But tucking him in on top of that? Yeah, that's an obvious 'I care' gesture.

From then on, Leon is following Ada because he wants to trust her. And I do want to ring this home. He wants to trust her. Doesn't mean he does trust her. Because even though he shows genuine care for her, it's clear that he knows she's might not be telling him everything.

He wants her to trust him, so that she'll tell him what she is keeping from him. So that he can trust her.

The kiss scene is a perfect representation of exactly that, I'd say. Honestly, I'll just link this analysis right here, because I pretty much interpret it in almost the exact same way. But I'll go over it in my own words as well.

Leon's growing frustration is in full display here. He turns around from her, he paces, he tries to appeal to her. To just trust him enough to be honest with him. It's clear that he knows Ada might not be telling everything, but he chooses to believe her regardless.

Hence the exchange that follows this:

Ada: 'Hey Leon, trust me?'

Leon, walking up to her: 'Trust me?' (Reversing her question)

Ada: 'Honestly, if I didn't, you'd probably be dead.' (A genuine answer as far as we know, but it's not one Leon wanted to hear, so he shakes his head, mutters 'Right.' and walks off.)

And I do feel like Ada knows that Leon is suspicious of her here. Her reaction once he walks off comes off as kind of panicky to me. She knows she might be losing him, and she can't have that. So, she once again appeals to what she knows is his weak spot. His drive to help others and 'save' the city. It does work. Somewhat. But he's still swaying, so she does the first thing she thinks of. She kisses him.

She, quite literally, cuts off his line of thought so he stops thinking about it. Because him thinking is dangerous for what she's really doing here.

I think it would be very disingenuous to say that that was a kiss of love or affection. It is not presented as such, nor is it addressed that way in all. It was Ada's last attempt at stopping Leon from questioning her any further. How much of it was her focusing on her goals, and how much of it was her effort to 'protect' him from potentially figuring out the truth, is left to your interpretation. But whatever intentions she had, good or bad, it was a kiss of manipulation.

It does shut Leon up, as he's visibly stunned. He doesn't even say anything at that. He just stares at her, then at her hand on his knee. Now, here's the tricky part of it all. Do I think Leon felt romantic affection/attraction to her here? On some level, I'd say yes. But it's definitely no 'love at first kiss' or anything like that. He's confused, mostly. While he spent arguably little time with Ada, it was a time full of meaning. Surviving side by side and protecting one another is no small feat. And Ada did show her care for him.

I think, he chooses to trust her in that moment, because he, once again, wants to believe in her. Even if her kiss felt out of nowhere, and so much of what she says (or rather doesn't say) makes no sense. He chooses to trust her because he wants to think that she's a good person who cares for him.

And so, we come to the pivotal bridge scene once he learns the truth. I do like how he confronts her in a blatantly emotional manner rather than logical. It's not so much about her being a mercenary itself, as it is about her using him and lying to him. That's what he's actually confronting her about, whether he realizes it or not. That's exactly why he tells her to shoot him, fully resolute as he holds her gaze. He wouldn't do that if he was just trying to apprehend a criminal like a good cop would (as he tries to present it at first).

But, he never gets that closure or resolution he was aiming for. Ada lowers her pistol. He breaths out shakily, probably wanting to continue talking, to figure this out. But he doesn't get that.

I do think Ada telling him to take care of himself as her 'last words' is a very painful thing for him. Because it leaves him with no actual closure on what happened between them. Ada chose to not harm him, and her last words to him are ones of selflessness. But she also lied to him and used his vulnerabilities to achieve her goals. And it's not like Leon knows anything about her occupation, and just how much she's involved with it on an emotional level. Maybe she's someone forced to do this against her will. Or maybe she enjoys doing such dirty jobs for all he knows.

That's the thing. Leon doesn't know. And that must be both frustrating and painful. He's basically left questioning all of his interactions with her, how much of it was genuine, whether she was honest with him at all.

And, most importantly, his time with Ada basically proves to him that his drive to protect and save, his willingness to give people the benefit of the doubt - is a flaw, and a weakness. It directly ties into his arc in RE4R. (And his relationship with Krauser, in a way, but I won't go over it here.)

He throws away her bracelet on the train, and I think that kind of shows that he chooses to believe in the pessimistic way of interpreting their time together. He throws it away because he doesn't want to hold on to something that reminds him of her. And, simultaneously, of his mistakes.

Now, let's go through the same events from Ada's POV, shall we? It's a bit more challenging, since we don't get to be in her shoes, but it's still a fun exercise.

Ada's initial interactions with Leon are ones of annoyance. She basically scolds him like a kid for always getting in danger and acts like saving him is a chore. But chooses to help him out regardless. I think it speaks of her humanity despite her line of work. It's an interesting dichotomy that follows her every single appearance pretty much, though not much is done with it (thanks Capcom). But yeah, despite her visible annoyance with him, she saves him time and time again.

She doesn't visibly soften up to him up until that same Robert scene. She's pretty observant from what we can tell, and she probably already had a good idea of Leon's righteous nature, but it's the first instance of her actively playing into it instead of making small snide comments about it ('Trying to save the world?' 'Good luck with that.'). That doesn't mean she doesn't care, though. It's subtle, but the little sighs and changes in her facial expression do show that she's at least a little bit conflicted at the prospect of lying to him on such a huge level (though you can't see most of it with her sunglasses).

It's one thing to say a passing lie about you being an FBI agent, and it's completely another to play the long game by using someone like that. But she needs to accomplish this task, and it already proved to be more difficult than she expected. Remember, Racoon City was Ada's first time dealing with anything of this sort, too. She might be a mercenary, but it's not like she had to deal with zombies and B.O.W's before that. She's out of her depth, and she has someone pretty much offering themselves to her as her assistance.

So, she takes the risk.

While she does join in some passing banter with Leon after that, she still keeps her distance. She's dry and mostly unemotional in her mannerisms. Remember how I said that Leon taking the bullet for her was more pivotal to her in the story? Let's go over that.

It would be disingenuous to say that Ada is a complex character, unfortunately. Most of the complexity she does have, we pretty much have to add on to ourselves. Hell, I'm doing it right now with this entire section! Capcom is doing a way better job with her in the Remakes, but she's still pretty flat as a character. Maybe this'll (hopefully) change in future installments. But for now, we work with what we have.

Either way, we do know that Ada is someone who's self-sufficient and chooses to work alone. She keeps her distance from everyone, and she lives by 'everyone for themselves' ideology. Basically, a total opposite of Leon's 'protector' role. All that to say... someone taking a bullet for her is definitely not something she would expect. On some level, specifically because she would never do that herself. Especially for someone she basically just met. But Leon risks his life for her. Furthermore, telling her to go ahead instead of anything else.

I think that's the moment Ada starts caring for him on a personal level. Maybe she feels like she should repay him for this. Or that she owes him a debt. Regardless, she takes care of him and tucks him in, before proceeding further.

That care only grows once they reunite. Now she's the one injured, and he takes care of her, despite her protests: 'I can do it myself'. Ada is self-sufficient, but Leon offers her his companionship time and time again. We don't know whether that's something she lacks in her life or not. We don't know enough of her as a character to say that. But she's obviously someone who's not used to getting help from others. Again, on some level, because she doesn't do that herself.

Remember, while Ada did save Leon numerous times before, she always acted visibly frustrated by it, like it was a chore she was forced into, despite her choosing to help him herself. Leon, on the other hand, is quick to offer and insist on helping out, very much eager to do that for her. She already made the choice to use him, but now she learns that he's a genuinely good person with a kind heart, and not just some stupid naive rookie.

And so, the kiss scene, again. I already said that her kiss feels like a last-ditch effort to stop Leon from questioning her any further. And I do think she acted on impulse. Thus why she follows up with a hand on his knee and the: 'I'm counting on you'. And I, personally, think she kind of regretted doing that right after. Or maybe felt extra conflicted about the whole ordeal as a whole. The way she slouches and sighs heavily once Leon leaves is very reminiscent of that. It's kind of a mix of 'Fuck, I messed that up, didn't I?' and 'What the hell am I going to do after this?'

It also should be noted that Ada never meant to tell Leon the truth. It would be convenient for both of them. Leon would feel like he did something good, and she would complete her mission with no further issues. Both sides win. But... things go haywire. And she's confronted with the consequences of her initial choice to use him.

It'll be silly to say that Ada doesn't care for Leon. If she truly was this heartless mercenary some would like her to be, she would shoot him on the spot. Her pistol being empty doesn't really matter, either. Leon was basically offering himself up to her, again. Even without any bullets on her hands, she could have easily knocked him out or something.

But, she can't bring herself to hurt him. Because Leon really is a good person that doesn't deserve that. And she knows that, and she cares for him on a personal level on top of it all. We don't know what she was going to do, before Annette shot her. Maybe I'm actually talking out of ass here, and she really was planning on knocking Leon out cold. But, we'll never truly know.

And her last words for him are to take care of himself. Because, in a way, Ada, more than anyone, knows just how selfless Leon is. On some level, it's a wordless 'I'm sorry', if you wish to interpret it that way.

Boy, was that a lengthy mess! Their first introduction to each sure was tumultuous. But we still have RE4R to go through! Though it'll be more about Ada than Leon.

Nevertheless, let's talk about Leon's interactions with Ada. I think we all know he's noticeably harsher and colder to her. It's an interesting change, and it does show that he feels resentment towards her for what happened in Racoon City. We don't know how his initial conflicted feelings morphed into this resentment, but they did.

I don't think nearly enough people mention that he's genuinely being very damn rough with her in their little sparring session. While yeah, you could make an argument that he's holding back, he's not being careful either. Ada has to put in actual effort to fight him off, which she doesn't even succeed in because he takes her off-guard with his intensity.

And he also puts the sharp end of his dagger to her throat. Just to rub more salt into the wound.

I don't think this was him wanting to hurt her or threaten her, though. It was more of a show of strength. Ada approaches him by taunting him and teasing him, like she can do whatever she wants to him. But he's not that same naive rookie anymore. And he shows her exactly that.

A kind of: 'Don't think you can play the same trick on me twice, or you might get burned' message. A message that I think Ada does get.

As for him smirking at her, I don't think that's him being 'happy' to see her or anything. I think that's just him being amused that she still thinks she can play him like that. He grows all cold and distant with her right after.

Leon obviously has a grudge that he hasn't let go of. I actually like how he's almost needlessly petty with her in RE4R. Making snide remarks, calling her heartless and dismissing her on numerous occasions. It shows that he does care. If he didn't, he would cooperate with her with no further complaints on his part. He's purposefully being cold to her to show that yes, he is still upset about what happened, and he will use every opportunity to demonstrate exactly that. It's petty and kind of childish, in a way. But it makes sense for him, and it adds extra flavor to their relationship at this point in time.

Though, he does offer an opening to her in the boat.

'Have you changed, Ada? Or are you trying to use me again?'

It's a good parallel to his: 'Trust me?' In RE2R, and both phrases are used for a similar purpose.

He gives Ada an opening to trust him and be open with him. One that she doesn't take, again: 'What do you think?'

She gives him no answer. Just like she didn't in RE2R. I think, in a way, that kind of gives Leon an answer by itself. He trusts Ada and relies on her when push comes to shove, but he doesn't give her any more openings from then on. I'd say that's his 'I think we both know this is where we go our separate ways' moment.

With Ada, things are way more complicated, in a good way. Separate Ways gave us so much to work with, and that's amazing.

Throughout Separate Ways, we see Ada bouncing back-and-forth on what she wants to do. She's initially very cold and resolute in her job, helping Leon out more like a passing convenience than anything else. She does still help him, though. She's still dealing with the dichotomy of what she presents herself as, and what she actually acts as.

I really like her confrontation with Luis in particular. She's cutthroat and blunt. Almost chillingly so. And she only relents once Luis mentions her own infection. Him telling her of Leon's infection has little effect.

'And why does that matter to me?'

I think that's a question she's asking herself just as much as Luis here. Though, she's still in her cold, self-sufficient mercenary role here. To be honest, I find her relationship with Luis in particular much more interesting in RE4R, but since we're talking about her and Leon here, I'll just say that Luis is the catalyst to her change (so to speak, Ada doesn't really change as a character per se, I'll elaborate on that later). Not Leon.

She confronts Leon face-to-face, quickly being met with the truth that he is not as easy for her to push around now. And I do think she has zero bad intentions there. She was genuinely just playing around and teasing him. Only to figure out that that approach won't work at all. It's kinda cute, honestly. So, she gives him an opening of her own instead. She tells him to leave Ashley, to prioritize his own safety over hers. Because that's what she would have done in his place. Leon is quick to shut that down. Something that Ada probably expected, as she just huffs and gives a knowing 'Right.' to that.

That's the moment Ada knows Leon hasn't changed. Not really. He might be colder, more ruthless and dangerous, but he's still that same guy, wanting to protect others, no matter what. She knows she'll have no success in swaying him at that point. Hence why she tells him exactly that on the boat later.

The next pivotal scene, I'd say, is her watching Ashley wake up and learn of Luis' death. Ada mostly treats Ashley like a nuisance, something Leon has to protect. Because that's his job. But in that moment, she sees the genuine connection they share with each other. She sees that Leon cares. And not just because Ashley is an innocent person he has to save, but because it's Ashley.

Ada's arc throughout Separate Ways is not that connected to Leon, which is a good thing. Similarly to Leon concluding his story from RE2R by saving Ashley and proving to himself (first and foremost) that he can protect someone he cares about, and that his humanity is a strength, not a weakness, Ada learns to accept herself, too. She's visibly conflicted at the start of SW, but by the end of it, she knows what she has to do, and she made peace with that. Her hesitating before going against Wesker in the facility is one of the last moments of her hesitating with her intentions.

But, again, that scene is more about her and Luis. Luis is very important to Ada's character in SW, and I think that's neat.

While the scene itself is kinda awkward, her encountering Ashley during the final battle is another arguably important one. Her watching Leon and Ashley before that was about her witnessing Leon's care for her. Now she sees that Ashley fully reciprocates that care. They are on equal ground with each other.

And so, the final scene between them. I already said that Leon settled on his answer concerning Ada before that. But Ada makes one final opening to him. It's a selfish one. After all, what exactly would happen if Leon agreed to come with? Would they just leave Ashley to die and fly off into the sunset? On some level, I think Ada knows that what she's asking is unrealistic, especially for Leon. But I think it also speaks of her progression throughout Separate Ways. Ada learns to be more genuine with herself, even if it means being selfish or asking something that she knows will be rejected.

So, she shoots her shot one last time. Leon gives his answer. Ada is not surprised by it. But she is visibly upset by it. She knew it was coming, though.

So, they do exactly that. They go their separate ways. At least for now.

#resident evil #resident evil 2 remake #resident evil 4 remake #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #ada wong #aeon #DO I TAG AEON IN THIS BC IT'S NOT REALLY A SHIPPING POST????#i mean i did talk about them smooching so i guess....#for the record #i am fully aware i am adding way more depth than there really is #but hey #it's fun #i spent way too long on this it's embarrassing 💀💀💀

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youcouldmakealife · 2 months ago

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Stuff That Helps Me Write: Pacing (no, not that kind), and burnout avoidance

So this was supposed to be about something entirely different., but every time I started making a point, I got distracted by a second, bonus idea (ways to trick your brain when it's not cooperating with you! things I've tried (I will try everything) and what worked and didn't! what to do with writer's block!) and then start writing about that, and I've got half a dozen unrelated paragraphs going in my drafts, so I think I'm just going to make this a mini-series of 'stuff that helps me write and may also help you (or maybe they won't, I don't know, this shit's all subjective)'.

If there's anything in particular you'd like to hear about, or something about my process you're curious about, absolutely feel free to reply or shoot me an ask and I'll do my best to address them as I go.

But yeah, pacing. And more specifically, not burning out. I figured it was important I hit this one first, because I think it's the most important one, or at least, the one that makes the biggest difference.

With the caveat that I am someone who has repeatedly driven myself into burnout, I'm also someone who now knows why that is, and have been teaching myself how to, you know, not do that.

So. Here's how I, you know, don't do that.

Will preface this by again mentioning that most writing advice (and advice in general) never seemed to work for me, and I mostly thought I was just Bad at Doing Things, until I learned my brain's literally wired differently, and that I'd been trying to apply processes that didn't actually work for said wiring.

So instead, I figured out what worked for me. And what works for me isn't necessarily what will work for you, or even what will work for me a month or five years down the line, but it's going okay right now.

I'll straight up say that, contrary to all the Writing Advice, I don't write every day, and I don't think it's necessary, or even necessarily a good idea -- I have at times, but I no longer do, because if I write for more than six days straight I find the proverbial well dries up and I write less than I do had I just taken a break when I needed it.

Cognitive energy and the sort of ephemeral ~inspiration (work that's been done on a subconscious level) are fundamentally no different than physical energy: if you don't replenish it, you will run out. If you overdo it, you will run out. If you consistently overdo it without replenishing it, you will burn out.

Taking a page from hockey players here: if you did an intense workout right before a game they'd ask what the fuck was the matter with you. You need a nap and a meal and to get some stretching and light work in. Running at 100% all the time will burn you out in every single field, including this one.

That's not me saying not to run at 100% at all. I generally try to pace myself now, but if I'm really in it, and the words are coming easily, I don't stop until they stop -- I wrote just shy of 4k of later scenes for SAIT last week (my 2024 record!), all in one sititng, by hand, when I was supposed to be sleeping, because that's when the inspiration came. I didn't fall asleep until past 6am that night, and my hand is still mad at me.

But you know how much writing I got done the follow day? (None, I was busy transcribing 4k of handwriting). The rest of this week? (Not much more than that). Those bursts of energy are awesome, and honestly can make you feel like a writing god, but the well's the well, and I've learned my personal well is about 5000 words a week deep.

Before my most recent scrape with autistic burnout, which I'm still sort of climbing my way out of, that well was closer to 7500 words. But honestly, it probably wasn't; I was likely just siphoning words from future wells and then it all caught up with me when I was looking at a horizon of dry-ass wells ahead of me. (I'll admit this isn't a perfect metaphor.)

But seriously, my advice for basically everything, not just writing (and something I wish I'd learned before I hit my 30s), is 'figure out what pace you can work at sustainably'.

Please note that 'sustainably' is not 'without literally dying'. Because my literal ass thought when people said 'give it 100%' they meant, you know, 'give it 100%' (I know! absurd of me), rather than 'give the best effort you can give in this moment considering your current resources'. So I gave it my all (also interpreted that one wrong I guess?). And then I wondered why I kept hitting a wall all the time. And why, eventually, I stopped being able to climb that wall entirely.

I don't think I'm ever going to reach that 7500 word threshold again. There will be weeks I'm so inspired I write that much, but the next week I probably won't manage more than 2500. Or maybe I'll have two 7500 weeks in a row, but I'll need to take a whole week off after that, or spend several weeks working at a lower tempo while I let the well replenish itself.

I've been tracking some metrics quite closely as I sort of tweak my life into its new shape (said shape being 'do the best you can given your resources') , and during my most productive month of this year I wrote 3x as much as the worst (writing wise, I was finalising publication at the time), my current weekly average is about 4800 words. Sometimes it's a bit higher or lower, sometimes much higher or lower, but that's what I can sustainably do right now.

Frankly, I'm a little cranky about this: I know I can do more, because I did do more. But my priority now is not to send myself straight back into burnout again, so when I sprint, it's just that, rather than my previous 'trying to run a marathon at the pace of a sprinter'. I'm writing less than I used to, but it's honestly not that much less: because the pace is sustainable rather than boom and bust, I don't run myself ragged enough to desperately need a break.

I'm aware this advice only works if you have control over your own time, and a schedule that doesn't force you to focus on writing say, one day a week, or around other obligations, but the only real workaround for burnout is consistency, and that consistency cannot be your maximum.

Or, it can, but I guarantee you that will bite you in the ass at some point, and the pain of not getting enough done is nothing compared to the pain of not being able to get anything done because your nervous system threw up its hands and decided if you weren't going to listen to their clues (feelings, symptoms) or their warnings (Feelings, Symptoms) that you were overdoing it, they were going to shut your ass down until you listened.

0/10 do not recommend.

Next week: how to trick your brain into doing shit that it doesn't feel like doing, even though it's onto all your tricks by now. Or at least, how I trick mine.

#writing talk #stuff that helps me write

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jaemified · 1 year ago

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major, minor, and the things in between - nishimura riki

"are we friends, lovers, or whatevers in between?"

pairing ; nishimura riki x fem!reader

genre ; slice of life, enemies to lovers-ish (y/ns mean to riki smh), romance, drama, fluff, small angst, non idol au

warnings ; swearing, drinking, brief mention of blood (someone gets cut), mention of offing yourself but its just niki making a joke

wordcount ; 7.0k

synopsis ; though never quite well acquainted, sim y/n had always felt strongly against nishimura riki, until her brother jake had forced them to get along. but, what was meant to have them get closer turns into something a little more.

note (5/29) - there isnt rlly much mention of jake/nikis actual siblings but for one scene theirs like additional (baby) siblings

note (7/10) - its finally here!! im a little upset it took me 2 months to write 7k since i used to be able to write 4k in 8hrs but summer has been kicking my ass so im glad its out despite being 10 days past release date

taglist 🏷️ ; @stinkoscope @asyleums

read below the cut !

"'when im with you, i.. im so happy. i like you, na bora!' 'i like you. i like you too! i really really like you!'" y/n cried at her computer screen, rewatching 20th century girl for the 2nd time this week, before being so rudely interrupted by her brothers presence, bugging her with the same, repetitive question. the same question hes been asking for years on end now.

"the guys are coming over and of course you know niki is gonna be here as well. i want you to talk to him. why cant you just be friends?"

"id appreciate it a lot if youd leave, this is my space."

"i dont know if you noticed, but this is a small flat with not much room to move around. its not only you living here you know." jake reminded.

of course y/n knew there was limited space, she knew the moment she first realized she had already circled about the unit, trying to escape her brothers nagging.

"if you know theres not enough room for you and me then what makes you think theres room to accommodate an additional 6 other grown ass men. go to your room, im doing homework.'

'annoying..'

"you were literally just crying watching 20th century girl milliseconds before i walked in, and im not asking much y/n! all i want is for you to talk to him, even pretend like youre getting along, thats it!" jake remarked, before catching the pillow y/n attempted to throw at his face.

'so damn annoying.' y/n thought, growing more and more annoyed by her brothers constant nagging as each second passed.

"whats so hard about getting along with niki? hes a good kid!" jake complained. since his little sister couldnt get along with one of his best friends, it made even the intimate gatherings.. unpleasantly awkward.

"hes annoying, like you are being right now."

"no, why do you really hate him so much."

"i dont know! he just reminds me of someone i guess? and he always cheated on projects back in middle school. even stole my ideas so he could make it look like im in the wrong."

"thats it? youre holding a grudge over him just being a middle school kid from, what, 5 years ago? cmon, theres gotta be something better then that. not to mention even if there wasnt, that makes you sound hella dumb holding a grudge from the 7th grade when youre graduating next year."

y/n thought to herself. of course there was another reason, but it seemed unnecessary to bring up. and she also just didnt want to share it with jake. or maybe, it wasnt the right reason after all.

"well hes cocky as hell and is still a better dancer, basketball player, volleyball player then i, not to mention ive been playing longer and layla likes him more then she likes me!"

"thats your fault youre never home, laylas just more used to him. and me. i am clearly her favorite between you and i."

"more like his fault hes practically living in my apartment cause hes never at his own home. and how can she be more used to him when ive known her since way before she met riki.."

"tough luck." jake pat y/n on the head on his way out before shutting the door.

__________________________________________

the sound of the doorbell awoke y/n from her, well, what was meant to be a quick nap (which later turned into a 4 hour sleep). just as she slowly got out of bed to answer it, she heard jake yell from down the hall, "ive got it! make sure you dont look stupid or anything in front of my friends!"

she rolled her eyes and climbed back into bed, thinking about her outfit. standard pajamas, plaid shorts and a black tee (which probably wasnt even hers). she thought about how the one person out of the 6 she didnt want to see would be out there. truth be told, even she herself didnt know the best explanation as to why she hated riki so much. y/n figured it was because of a little mishap back during freshmen year and she just couldnt bring herself to apologize for everything that had been said during that time, so she forced herself to continue hating him. 'yeah, seems about right.'

the sound of the door opening caught her attention and the next thing she knew, there was a boy in a cream essentials hoodie jumping onto her.

"oh shit, what the f-"

"hi y/nnn!" sunoo smiled, carefully getting off his best friend.

y/n was in joy once she realized who it was, and brought him into a tight hug.

"hey sunoo! god it feels like forever since i last saw you!"

it was really only a week.

"i know right! its been too long!"

she smiled, no matter what mood she was in, sunoo always was the sunshine in the rain.

"so, whos here?"

"oh, you know the usual. sunghoon, heeseung, jake, and jay hyung. niki and jungwon are supposed to be setting up something in the courtyard."

"setting up what?"

"a volleyball net. jake was on nikis ass all week and wanted him to 1v1 you while we all played basketball. jungwon just wanted to help however he could, hes been tired all week from his job and the dance program."

no fucking way.

"youre saying i have to be alone, with nishimura riki? hell no!"

"isnt it great?" "this is a disaster!" they both exclaimed in unison.

"how is that bad?" "how is this good?!"

sunoo signaled for y/n to continue first. "i just cant stand riki. jakes been on my ass to talk to him but i didnt think hed actually talk to him, or that hed even listen either."

"seriously? i always thought you had a thing for him. i mean, you look good together, you both share mainly the same interests, mainly the same circle, not to mention the undeniable love you have when your eyes meet-"

"okay thats enough! you know what, how bout we go outside, im hungry anyway."

sunoo shrugged and went along with y/n down the hall.

he was slightly surprised when he saw niki and jungwon sitting on the couch, having a sip of their drinks.

"back already? i thought you were setting up the nets."

"yeah, but it was easier then expected. and we didnt even need to go to the lobby for the stuff. it was all already in the courtyard." jungwon told the two with a smile, proud of their work.

"y/n." niki looked at her with that stupid grin she had always hated.

"nishimura."

"i didnt know youd be here." he observed, ignoring how she had addressed him by his last name instead of niki, or riki.

she scoffed, crossing her arms.

"i live here dipshit. you think id run away just cause i knew you were coming?"

niki got up from his seat and walked closer, and closer, until their faces were mere centimeters away.

"just like you ran from all our problems in freshmen year huh?"

"you realize it was all because of what you did, dont you?"

it took niki a minute to notice how close they were. he looked down at her lips before realizing what sunoo and jungwon were saying in the background. "are they about to kiss?"

"hell no!" y/n and niki both yelled out in unison, quickly pushing away from each other.

"whatever. i need to use the bathroom, i cant stand seeing your face." she remarked to niki.

as soon as y/n closed the bathroom door, she let out a breath she never knew she was holding in, slowly trying to register what had just happened. 'did i really almost kiss him.'

minutes after being stuck in the bathroom for so long, she left and walked into the main living space, only to notice everyone was gone.

well, almost everyone.

"are you serious."

y/n dryly stared at the boy sitting on her couch, in her spot, watching her favorite show.

"i forgot you were still here." niki yawned.

"where is everyone?"

"did you seriously not hear them say theyre gonna get food and that theyll be back in.. three hours or more?"

"three hours or more? it does not take that long to get food, youre fucking with me." y/n walked into hers and jakes individual bedrooms to see if anyone was hiding from her, to her dismay, niki wasnt lying.

"it does if youre getting food from busan."

"why the fuck are they going all the way to busan for food??"

"language! my young ears cant take this!"

"shut up nishimura youre only 11 days younger."

"more like 11 years at heart cause you act like a grumpy old lady all the time.."

"whatd you just call me?"

"nothing!"

"so why are they going all the way to busan for food again?" y/n reminded, getting niki back on track.

"cause they got a friend whos house is down there and hes in town for the weekend, they said theyll bring us home our own order."

y/n walked into the kitchen, rummaging for food.

"what are you doing now?"

"looking for food, im gonna die if i see your ugly ass face any longer."

"what are you on about 'ugly'? girls at school love this face."

"and apparently you loved those girls too much in return.."

niki got up from the couch and walked over to the kitchen bar, sitting down. "are you still mad at me about that?"

she stopped what she was doing and looked at niki, not saying anything, hoping it was enough of an answer.

"so you are." 'so he isnt all that dumb'

"look, i didnt know she had bad intentions, and you were right, i shouldve listened to you. but you really have to stop avoiding me. how was i supposed to tell you i didnt realize what she was trying to do if you keep running away?"

"how do you not realize no matter how many times i warned you?"

"i thought you did it because you were jealous."

"i did it because i loved you!"

niki froze, thinking he was crazy, thinking maybe he hadnt heard right.

"you what?"

"past tense. loved, not love. and how could you think so badly of me? we were supposed to trust each other, always tell the truth, and you thought i told you she would end up using you was because you thought i was jealous? how could you?"

he sighed, thinking about what he had done, realizing how badly he had mistreated y/n in the past, realizing there was no reversing it. he walked into the kitchen where y/n was, backing her into the corner as the kitchen was just as small as the apartment itself.

"get away from me!" she yelled, throwing ramen packet after ramen packet at niki.

"no. i know i havent been the best to you-" "more like you know youve been the worst."

niki glared at y/n.

"-and i know theres no reversing it. i realize i cant undo the past, but what i can do, is fix our future. i want to show you i can be better to you then i was then. we can be what we used to be before, us. our spark."

"there is no us, or we, or, our. but maybe just you, caught up in your daydreams." y/n pushed niki out the way, and walked out the kitchen, not noticing she was slowly being followed.

"i loved you too you know. except for the fact that i still do."

"can you just please leave." she turned around, now facing him.

her vision blurred, head dizzy, face stained, all as her glass like tears trickled down her cheeks.

"hey, its okay. dont cry."

"get away from me!"

niki attempted to hug y/n as she fought against him, trying to run from his grasp, struggling to no avail. she eventually fell still in his hold, forgetting its natural warmth and comfort.

"im sorry for everything." was the last thing y/n heard before falling asleep, growing tired and stressed from everything that had just happened.

__________________________________________

it was late at night by the time everyone else had come back, 2am to be exact. traffic was unusually heavy though it was a saturday night, not to mention the designated driver and his understudy (heeseung and sunghoon. yikes, scary night) ended up being the most wasted while everyone else was still tipsy. poor jungwon, still tired from a 4 hour nap after being on 2 hours of sleep all day, had to drive everyone through the slow traffic.

jake, who was slightly sobering up, turned on the lights in the dark room and dimmed them as his head was still throbbing. he walked into the living room and saw y/n, fast asleep with her head on nikis shoulder with his arm around her as he finished the rest of avengers endgame.

jake knew his sister well enough to know she had been crying once he focused on her puffy red eyes. but, it was a sweet moment, y/n was passed out, niki was barely conscious, and everyone was painfully drunk or achey. he figured he would just yell at riki for whatever happened in the morning.

sunghoon and heeseung ran into the kitchen (as best they could without tipping over) for water, jungwon had knocked out as soon as he sat down in the chair next to y/n, jay was busy trying to figure out how to use jakes water filter, and sunoo was sitting at the kitchen bar eating a pudding cup.

jay called for jakes help, just as his eyes had fluttered shut. begrudgingly so, jake got up and helped the three boys it the kitchen. "you press the bottom button, not the top button. the top is for ice."

"thanks." "yeah whatever."

"i know youre tired hyung, but so are we. where are we all supposed to sleep?" sunoo quietly asked, putting his hand on jakes shoulder.

he thought, looking at the three sprawled out in the living room, and the three bubbling nonsense in the kitchen. "jay and sunghoon can stay with me, ill move niki and y/n to her room, you can stay in the living room with jungwon and heeseung hyung. but move jungwon to the couch since he drove everyone."

"thanks-" sunoo cut himself off as he heard the sound of jakes receding footsteps.

__________________________________________

morning came, and though it wasnt a good one, y/n wanted to remedy that. or, remedy the nasty hangover she knew everyone would be experiencing.

she had woken up with her eyes puffy and red, and even though she didnt want to get up she knew she would have to eventually.

"is that hangover soup i smell?" jake asked tiredly, rubbing his eyes as he walked out his room.

"well i know riki doesnt know how to cook and jungwons still asleep. so who else would be making it?" y/n flashed a tired smile, pouring a serving for jake.

"so, why were you crying last night? and dont say you werent or that you just didnt sleep well. ive lived with you long enough now to tell the difference between your 'i didnt get enough sleep' eyes, and your 'i was crying pretty hard' eyes." he interrogated as he took a big sip of the soup. so good he almost felt better already.

"what did he tell you? or were you watching me?"

"he didnt tell me anything, he was already asleep by the time we came back. i just saw the look on your face and knew."

"just reminiscing on some bad times is all."

jake raised a brow at his sister, taking another sip.

"you dont have to tell me now if you dont want to. but i do want to hear about everything. later. when my head isnt pounding like when i heard mom push you out in the emergency room. after i take a nap. and when youve bought jungwon some coffee."

"me? why do i have to buy him coffee? im not the one who drove him because the designated drivers were too wasted."

"we typically treat him to an iced americano since hes always up taking care of us when were drunk, but we havent gotten this wasted in a while. and he spent so long getting sunghoon out the house, not to mention the long drive to the point he ended up falling asleep as soon as we got back."

y/n thought about it before mumbling a, "tough luck" to jake, patting him on the back before walking into her bedroom.

she was met with the sight of niki making the bed as she walked in. "when did you wake up?" she quietly asked.

"not too long ago, you?"

"about an hour ago. i had to cook for them."

"ah. did you sleep well? i know sleeping upright on the couch mustve been a lot less comfortable then this."

"i guess. i dont remember waking up to walk here though. jake probably carried me."

"he was way wasted, snoring loudly way before i woke up. how else do you think you got here?"

it took a minute for it to click in y/ns mind when she realized it was niki who took her to the room and slept next to her. this whole time, she thought it was her brother who lent his own room to his friends.

"of course not, he just asked me to help or make sure you got to bed safely and that i could stay with you since there was nowhere else."

'that bastard.. ill kill him one of these days. im surprised i havent already.' she spoke to herself in her head.

"so. are we good now?" niki questioned, walking over to the other side of the room.

"how can you ask me such a thing after making me relive one of the worst memories of high school ive ever had?"

"it wasnt my intention. i was just trying to explain-" "theres nothing to explain when i had already given you multiple warnings. thats on you."

y/n threw a pillow at niki and walked away, back outside.

"what was that all about?" sunghoon asked, taking a sip of the coffee he had just made. 'where did he get silk pajamas from. are- are those mine?'

"what?"

"not to bother, but i mean, you were kind of yelling." heeseung explained to y/n.

she let out a sigh, rubbing her forehead in stress.

"i dont want to talk about it right now. i- actually. you know what? ill be back."

"where are you going?" sunoo asked y/n, following her to her room just as niki walked out.

"somewhere, not sure yet. dont follow me."

"i wont, i know how much you value your alone time but- oh youre changing. hold on ill turn around. but please be safe. when will you be back?"

sunoo turned back around and saw she had changed into beige cargos and a white crop top. realizing he was staring, he looked around the room, before a certain picture caught his eyes. he walked closer to get a better look. it was baby jake feeding yogurt to baby y/n. 'awe, they were always close werent they.' he hadnt even realized y/n was talking to him, and by the time he faced where y/n was standing, she had already left out the front door.

y/n🤨; srry, u were so immersed in that picture of jake and i as kids, but i rlly wanted to leave. i cant handle being around niki. see u l8r

sunoo😴 ; no worries, have fun, stay safe, and dont take any candy from strangers lol

__________________________________________

y/n drives to her favorite cafe she always used to visit with her brother, mama han's. she sits down at the bar and scrolls deep into her camera roll, coming across some mundane memories of her and riki back when they were close.

"what can i get you, hun?" the waitress, jiwoo, asked with a small grin. she didnt look to be any younger than 40 something now, compared to the last time she visited the spot. jiwoo was always the waitress here, even served the two frequently in their childhood when they visited from australia.

"just a vanilla shake is all. extra whip please."

"sweetie, arent you lactose? it must be pretty bad if you want extra dairy."

"yeah, it is. but, im not comfortable talking about it at the moment if thats alright."

"of course it is. just hope youre doing okay." jiwoo pat y/n on the shoulder, before reaching down to get the ingredients.

"hows your brother? havent seen either one of you in a while."

"hes well, a little hungover, but hes fine."

jiwoo laughed as she poured milk into the blender. "of course. what more to expect from your brother. well, how are you? i realized i didnt really ask."

"im alright. and, do you remember niki?"

"little niki from when you were kids? the one you used to like- oh dear, dont tell me hes the reason as to why youre so down?"

"long story, but yeah. its fine though, ill deal with it. but what about you, whats going on? did you ever pursue your dream as an actress?"

"no, and i regret not going for it. i didnt get to be in stairway to heaven, but shinhye and taehee did though. which is why you need to go for what you want, otherwise you really will regret it." jiwoo advised, adding the cherry on top of the extra whip prior to sliding the glass over to y/n.

"so i should forgive him?"

"if its what you want. though i dont know the backstory, i do know that as long as its something you want then its worth a shot. the worst he can say is no, you know?"

"yeah.. oh and jiwoo, can i get a chocolate shake to go?"

"no problem, just give me 4 minutes. and- oh dont worry about it, put your card away! its on the house."

___________________________________________

y/n heard her phone buzz in the center console as she pulled into an empty parking lot. she turned the engine off the car and pulled out her phone.

sim jaeyun ; Can you come home

Y/n Sim ; can u stop using caps

sim jaeyun ; I don't think it matters but okay

sim jaeyun ; can you stop disappearing whenever you're mad at someone

Y/n Sim ; can you change my name so its not in caps

sim jaeyun ; can you stop changing the topic and just drive back because niki wants to talk to you and i was getting worried

Y/n Sim ; can u change my name

'sim jaeyun' has changed your display name to 'y/n sim'

y/n sim ; i bought u a shake from jiwoos

sim jaeyun ; no you didn't she probably got it to you for free

y/n sim ; cz im her fav sim

sim jaeyun ; im going to tell all the guys about how you pissed yourself at disneyland on splash mountain

y/n sim ; driving home rn

sim jaeyun ; no texting while driving love u

y/n sim ; lyt

she let out a small laugh at her brothers texts. she quickly got out the car, taking some pictures of the sunset for her instagram, and posting it, before driving out as the milkshake was beginning to melt.

niki got the alert y/n had posted and pressed the notification at the top of his screen. he didnt miss how the caption referenced wave to earth as it was always their favorite band to listen to together.

@/05sim_y/nn ; how can my day be bad when im with u? - [9m ago]

liked by @/02sim_ikeuu, @/suniskim, and 99 others - 20 comments

@/rikimura has liked this post ! [now]

___________________________________________

after getting back home and taking a relaxing shower (thanks to everyone leaving 2 hours prior), y/n had continued to keep herself up at night for the past week before deciding it was time to talk to riki.

she pushed her feelings aside, waking up on a random wednesday morning at the crack of dawn then randomly told herself 'ive got to do this, for my brothers sake and our friend group.' (or so she unconvincingly tried to convince herself, but thats already another thing she didnt want to get into at the moment) y/n quickly threw on whatever clothes she could gather laying about the floor, then ran to grab her car keys and hurry out the door.

as soon as she swung the big piece of metal open, she was met with the familiar sight of nishimura riki knowing when hes done wrong, his guilty face, with his hand raised and ready to knock.

"what are you doing here at the ass crack of dawn?"

"what are you doing ready to run out your apartment like its the olympics as the ass crack of dawn?" he responded to her question with a question, with the intent of knowing how much she hated it.

"actually, i was about to leave to see you. i think its time we had a talk. you know, after my.. moment, that i had last week."

"yeah. i know. its not your fault i realize now, or, im telling you that but ive realized it since the moment i lost you. i think-"

niki was interrupted by jake shouting from across the flat, "if youre gonna finally have this talk i think you should go somewhere else! can you leave soon? 'cause my girlfriends gonna come over at like 12!"

"i seriously doubt any place is open for us to be going to at 5:41 in the morning." y/n yelled in response.

"you know well mama han's is open now, and jiwoo works day and night, just go there so i can be alone!" "for 7 hours?"

niki laughed in response as he registered what jake and y/n were arguing over.

"what girlfriend?-" "-talking stage, technically, but he says theyre dating because she accidentally kissed his cheek on their first date when reaching to grab something near him."

"i remember her lips on my skin like it was yesterday, meanwhile you have yet to kiss niki." jake scoffed in english, the words flowing smoothly off his tongue with his accent before walking closer towards where y/n was standing.

"gross. if anything her accidentally very barely brushing her lips against your stupid face is the only action youll ever be getting if you keep trying to get rid of your one and only favorite little sister." y/n muttered in response, slightly ignoring niki muttering about how he thinks y/ns accent sounds cute.

"really?"

and so y/n found herself driving to mama han's cafe with niki after jake called their eldest brother, complaining she should listen to him because shes younger and if she wouldnt listen to jake himself then maybe she would listen to her older-older brother.

"you should listen to your older siblings but jake, if you had someone coming over you shouldve told her in advance. and what are you even gonna do alone for 6 hours??"

after being seated and placing their orders, niki brought back the conversation from earlier that had sort of been killed by jake.

"i get it, youre mad at me, and i shouldve listened to you. i know i fucked up and i know you see it too. i get it if you dont want to forgive me yet, or if you ever even will. but when you decide we could be good, im always here for you."

"why would i be here if i hadnt been prepared to forgive you?"

"huh?"

"i seriously question how dense you are sometimes."

"thanks for believing in me."

"no problem, but seriously. i forgive you. as much as i hate to admit it since i know youll use it against me, but i kinda missed having you around. i mean, you were my first love among other things but you were also one of my first and closest friends. it wont always be the same but im sure if we try enough we can get pretty damn close."

"god have you always been so philosophical?"

the two burst into laughter together, smiling as they took a sip of their milkshakes, reminiscing on the times they had spent together in their earlier high school years. it was moments like these that they has missed the most.

by far the most fun together (said niki), by far the most fun theyve had in a while (said y/n) after having spent the morning together, discussing and going over whats happened in the past few hours before going to pay. "ive got it," niki said, pulling out his card. "its the least i can do."

"thank you for today. i know i was hard on you but i needed this."

"no worries, i think ive owed you for a long time now right?"

"i need to do something in here real quick. you mind waiting in the car?"

"wait are you gonna be okay? i dont wanna leave you here alone."

"im a regular here, i know the people. its fine."

"are you sure?"

"if you go ill let you have the aux."

thats all it took for niki to run straight for the car, rushing to open the door.

y/n laughed as she saw him waving from the passengers seat, before going to talk to jiwoo who was busy wiping down the counters. she took a seat at the bar and felt comfort as jiwoo flashed the same smile she always would throughout y/ns childhood.

"thats a hell of a boy youve got there. special one isnt he?"

"you could say that in the very least. hes definitely special to me though."

"thats the boy you were tellin my sister about? he aint from round here, that right?" an distinct, familiar, voice spoke from the back kitchen.

"auntie jiwon?" y/n questioned in shock.

jiwon is jiwoos sister, she also used to work at the cafe just as much as jiwoo did. had been a favoritre of the customers including the sims themselves before moving to the countryside, only popping up on occasion. jake would call jiwon auntie since she was older and it had also grown on y/n.

"thats my name isnt it?" she chuckled as y/n ran up to hug her.

"wow, i cant believe it. i havent seen you in like, 7 years!"

"been a long time right? well, im just down here for a short while before i gotta go back. just here for a weddin and thought to visit my sister at work."

"thats great auntie, too bad you arent here for longer."

"yeah, well. thats what happens when you get 3 divorces and run out of money, that right jiwoo? but, seriously, whats with that boy of yours? he dont seem to be from here."

"hes not, hes from japan, for the dance academy we all go to."

"that explains a bunch. i always knew youd be a dance. you have quite the physique for it, no?"

jiwoo interrupted jiwon from rambling on the way she always would, quickly seeing y/ns desire to leave as she has other things to tend to.

"alright well, im sure y/n has plenty of things to do as do we, so we all really should be going. its about time for the regulars to start coming in." jiwoo awkwardly laughed as she too seemingly forgot her sisters idiosyncratic personality.

"you dont want to spend time with your auntie jiwon is it? kids nowadays have no sort of respect for their elders. you could drive a preacher to drink!"

y/n awkwardly cleared her throat and put on a smile, frozen in a sort of way as auntie jiwon hadnt seemed to be the same as she was 8 years ago.

"oh im only joking now! go on then, ill just see you in another 8 years." she sighed, overexaggerating the moment.

"its not like youre her real aunt anyway." jiwoo muttered, yet jiwon heard it.

"like your supposed to be? what are you to her anyway?"

"someone whos around of course! i practically raised her and babysitted her on top of running a restaurant with my own children whenever her parents would be in office from dusk till dawn with her brother busy at school with his own life."

"i was there too you know! she would tell me things she never told you."

"she only told you things because you made her! she was scared of you!" jiwoo rolled her eyes at jiwon before quickly gesturing for y/n to go.

"what are you doing- where is she going?" "somewhere where youre not."

as y/n go back into the car, she slightly scared niki in the middle of a game.

"what happened in there? looked kinda tense. never seen the other lady before."

"jiwoos sister. shes kinda crazy and possessive and scary. didnt even know she came back."

"maybe we should go.. shes kinda walking towards the car so i suggest to step on the gas."

"shit- shes what??"

------------------------------------------------------

within the next few months, niki and y/n drew closer to one another like they were before.

it was only a matter of time before their unresolved feelings for one another began to surface, yet they continued to push it down with all their might, not wanting to ruin anything like before.

so here y/n was, watching some random kdrama out of boredom, completely uninterested before she received a text from niki.

nishimura ; help

sim ; with what

nishimura ; baysitinf

sim ; the fuck

nishimura ; hold - my brother just took my phone

sim ; babysitting?

nishimura ; yes pls

nishimura ; jake literally js dropped off ur sister here while my brother was having a hyper thingy

nishimura ; hes just very hyper

nishimura ; send a swat team.

sim ; i dont rlly wanna watch sarang tho😐

nishimura ; BUT ITS UR SISTER??

sim ; yea but she’s a headache i have to deal with that like every weekend

sim ; i gave her to jake so i can have a free day just for her to bounce back to me😒 sim ; i hate guys named jake

nishimura ; thats what u get for abandoning a 5 year old

sim ; then im not helping

nishimura ; that lego set i bought you arrived today

sim ; see u in 20

and so here y/n found herself driving towards nikis apartment, reminding herself to lecture her brother once they both get home.

“good thing you came otherwise i mightve actually killed myself.”

“this better be good, i dropped crash landing on you for this.”

with that, niki stepped aside to point at the kids behind him without breaking eye contact with y/n, not wanting to look inside only to furrow his brows as she tilted her head in confusion.

“is this a joke?” she scoffed.

“what are you talking about?” his jaw dropped once he saw sarang and hiro getting along together just fine, completing some puzzle together. “i swear they werent getting along and hiro was just bouncing off the walls, plus sarang was like having a meltdown about ice cream!”

y/n slightly grinned then spoke, “you look fine. they look more then fine. you don’t need my help. did you just want an excuse to see me?”

“no! i- i mean i kinda wanted to see you but that’s not why- i, ughh!”

y/n held back a small laugh at nikis frustration before she heard the two kids watching them giggle adoringly at their older siblings.

“riki has a girlfriend!” “y/n has a boyfriend!” hiro and sarang exclaimed in excitement.

“im going home.”

“absolutely not.” y/n groaned in annoyance while niki pulled her into the house by grabbing onto her shoulder.

“so.” he awkwardly started, rubbing the back of his neck nervously with the palm of his hand.

“so??”

“about yesterday.”

“what about it.”

“we’re good right?”

“of course we are.” she reassured.

just as niki was able to reply, sarang began to cry loudly, like she saw a monster in her closet or something.

“what happened?”

“i cut myself!” she cried, showing the skin between her fingers. her and hiro had been doing small arts and crafts for the past hour, so she has hurt herself with the scissors.

“just put a bandaid on and ice it.” y/n rolled her eyes, shaking her head while not even bothering to look up from her phone.

“you’re so mean y/n unnie!” sarang pouted before holding her ‘injured’ hand up to nikis face.

“what is this, the school nurse? you gotta be a more helpful sister then that.”

“i am helpful. i asked her what happened then gave her a solution.”

“but you were so mean to her.”

“im teaching her to be tough! our parents were hard on me and my brothers, so we have to be hard on her.”

“but you aren’t your parents. you’re y/n.”

“but what if i don’t want to be just y/n?”

“well, then that’s not something you can control. you’re you whether you like it or not. you gotta learn to accept life as it is. that’s what really being hard on yourself is, and that’s what it does to you.”

niki goes over to sarang to pick her up and carry her over to the kitchen. he sets her on the counter and grabs a pastel flower print bandaid before placing a small kiss onto where he placed the bandaid.

he coos at her lovingly, with him who’d always seen her as his own sister having had watching her grow up since she was born despite her not really remembering much of him.

y/n felt her heart melt as she saw how good he was with her baby sister.

she got up from her seat to go over where they were, wrapping her arms around nikis waist to envelop him with into a warm back hug, pressing her head into the space between his shoulder and neck, letting it rest there.

“mean unnie.” sarang stuck out her tongue at y/n, pushing her face away from niki as she stuck out her tongue back.

“what are you, 5?”

“no but she is.”

niki sighed before pulling away (he really didnt want to but you didnt need to know that) grabbing his car keys, and picking up his brother.

“let’s go for some ice cream.”

so here you were, sitting at the local ice cream parlor together.

niki’s face turned as he watched you absolutely devour those three scoops (scoups) of mint chip.

“i seriously dont see how you could eat that. it tastes like toothpaste.”

“why are you talking when you’re eating plain vanilla.”

“hey, sometimes basic is better!”

“well you don’t have to like mint then. ‘cause me and this kid do!” she jokingly replied, hugging said kid (hiro) while niki and sarang rolled their eyes with their vanilla cones.

“hate to be a bother, but you guys are such a cute little family. youre just like me with my kids when they were still young. and, little girl, you really have your fathers eyes.” an elder women from a table across the parlor smiled, patting y/n and niki on the shoulder as she ignored her husbands remarks “stop disturbing the little couple!”

“do we really look like a family?”

“sort of, if you really think about it.”

“okay but she had to be lying because your eyes look nothing like sarangs.”

“i mean.. if you look closely enough.”

“you aren’t even korean!”

they laughed together, for the first time in a while.

“okay, but on a serious note. what are we? are we friends, lovers, or whatever’s in between?”

“i mean.. I guess for now, in between.”

“please date y/n unnie! shes sooo lonely and boring.” sarang interrupted, tugging on nikis sleeve.

“yeah! and i want more playdates with sarang!” hiro pouted, looking up with puppy eyes at y/n.

niki laughed at the kids’ reactions, before taking y/ns hand into his.

“well, no matter what you decide, let’s see where this takes us. they seem to be up for it anyway.”

“you’re right. alright, fine. but if you fuck this up again, you realize you’re not getting another chance, right?”

“i promise i won’t hurt you again. it already cost me everything last time.”

“glad you’re aware.” she bitterly mumbled.

“so. you will date me then?”

“ill think about it.”

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