#not kidding when I say this one is my best one yet. also my longest one yet clocking at 60+ pages. so excited for u to read it <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[geezmarty]

cover of my new comic, Curtain Falling, coming this october only on @shortboxcomicsfair ✨

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Werewolf // Cinna’s Monstertober Writing Challenge

Tags: Werewolf!Geto x Fem!Reader, Alpha!Geto x Omega!Reader, A/B/O mechanics, marking, scenting, nesting, fated mates, description of violence including murder, NSFW, MDNI

Synopsis: Suguru knew you were his before you even presented as an omega, but the pack elders did not take too kindly to him marking you at such a young age. He kills anyone who gets in his way to you.

An: If you don’t like a/b/o or omegaverse, skip this one :3. If you’re a freak like me, enjoy! Also, this was my first time making my own banner in Canva.. what are we thinking?? I am also so sorry that this one is so late.

“Satoru… I’m going to kill them. I’m going to murder them all. I can’t do this anymore. She needs me.”

Let’s rewind, shall we?

Living in a small pack has its perks. Everyone is protective over one another and will always offer to help no matter what. Pack relations are strongest when the pack is smaller, and the pack is more likely to survive.

There are, of course, some cons as well. Everyone knows your business, and everyone wants a say in how you live your life.

For the longest you can remember, Suguru has been by your side. You two would spend a lot of time down at the creek together as kids. You two practically learned everything together: how to hunt, fish, trap, and forage.

He was your insistent shadow, and the pack elders thought it was adorable when you two were younger. He would without fail abandon the other small children to always go hang out with you. The two of you were like little partners in crime together.

Though their adoration turned to concern when Suguru never quite left your side. In fact, it was getting worse as he grew older. By the time he turned 13, He was abandoning hunting trips early to come home to you. He’d sneak out of his tent to go to yours late at night. Your parents would have to kick him out every morning, chastising both of you.

Though, the straw that broke the camel’s back wasn’t simple sleepovers and abandoned hunting trips. It was when he presented as an alpha. Everyone knew he would with how physically gifted he was as a young teen. He was also too damn protective for his own good, going as far as to breaking another kid’s nose for simply grabbing your wrist.

You were only a few months younger than Suguru, but you hadn’t presented yet. When he presented first, your parents forbade him from sleeping over. They were just trying their best to protect you. You two were “too old” and “not old enough” at the same time to be sleeping together.

Suguru, given that he now had the talk from his parents, knew what your parents were suggesting, but he hated it. He didn’t understand how your parents could think so lowly of him overnight just from presenting.

He lasted three nights. Three whole nights of not snuggling against you, not smelling your hair while you two drifted off to sleep, not hearing your soft snores in the dead of night. It was three sleepless nights.

Suguru always had an inkling that you were his. It was a rather strange feeling of possession, like he shouldn’t have to listen to your parents’ rules because you weren’t theirs. You were his.

His frustration only heightened when the pack started to impose longer hunting trips on him. Shorter hunting trips were reserved for those who hadn’t presented and mated alphas. Since they were mated, they couldn’t be away from their mate for too long; thus, getting the smaller trips.

All these things led him to the conclusion: you’re his mate, and he needed to mark you to prove it.

After a particularly taxing hunting trip, Suguru’s eyes filtered through the camp. Everyone was as painfully jovial as usual: sitting around doing absolutely fuck all. His eyes landed on you, and he could feel the tension melting away from him almost instantaneously. You were in charge of looking after the small children, even though you yourself were still a child.

His feet stomped over toward you without a second thought, and his hand wrapped around your arm tightly, pulling you along behind him.

“Ah- Sugu. Where are we going? I’m working-!” You shout as he continues to drag you along silently. “Sugu- The kids…” You murmur as the two of you head further into the forest.

“They’ll be fine for a few minutes.” He responded calmly before he glanced behind him. The camp was far enough away now. No one would be able to see the two of you unless they were specifically looking for you.

“What are we doing, Sugu?” You asked with a small nervous smile. You had started to have to look up at him these days. It was as if he was growing taller overnight. No longer just a boy.

He also started to stink — well, it wasn’t like a smelly smell, but it was unfamiliar. Your parents had explained pheromones. You didn’t particularly like them since you hadn’t presented yet.

“I need you to sit still, and don’t scream.” He instructed before he dipped his head between your shoulder and jaw. He experimentally sniffed at your neck — completely scentless. The only smell coming from you was your strawberry shampoo that he had grown accustomed to.

“Why would I-“ His large hand covered your mouth before you could get out another word, and he opened his mouth before clamping down on your neck. His K9’s punctured your skin, allowing for blood to trickle down your skin.

A pained cry fled your mouth, but it was muffled by his hand. Suguru felt his heart begin to race. It was happening. You were finally officially his. No one could tell him otherwise — not even your silly parents.

He calmly reassured you that you were okay while you softly wept. Your hand covered the bloody mark on your neck. He was just marking you. You know, like it was no big deal.

After sweetly kissing your tears away, he proudly walked you back to camp once you had calmed down from crying, satisfied with himself. Your hands were laced together like true mates.

The first to immediately notice was Satoru, another alpha who was barely a year older than Suguru. His eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of your marked neck.

“Suguru, what did you do?” He asks like a mother scolding her son. Usually, this was the other way around. Satoru would’ve never expected Suguru to do something as reckless as this.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Satoru. I just marked her.” He shrugs nonchalantly, still so proud of himself.

“You don’t understand. She hasn’t presented. This isn’t good. We need to-“

Your face was flushed a bright red, and Satoru could see your breath becoming more and more labored with each passing second. He frantically looked around, trying to think of what to do. Suguru probably didn’t even know that he just inadvertently forced your body to present. Having been marked, your body was now plummeting itself into a heat.

Suguru could feel you gently tugging on his hand, trying to get his attention. When he looked back at you, his eyes widened. He could tell what your body was going through, but he was just a boy. He didn’t know how to handle it.

“What are you three up to? Why aren’t the children being tended to-“ A clan elder asked after seeing the small children running around without you to watch them. His eyes landed on you, and he immediately tensed up at the scene. “What- How… Geto.”

*** *** ***

“He’s just a boy!” Suguru’s mom pleaded with tears in her eyes. Her hands clasped the young boy’s shoulders. “He has a whole life ahead of him! Don’t do this to him.”

“You’re right. He is just a boy, so it was your responsibility to teach him about these things.” A pack elder spoke.

“He’s an alpha. Even if they taught him those things, he would’ve acted on his own volition anyways.” Another spoke.

“Who even allowed him to be around her? He was suppose to be on a hunting trip, no?”

“We got back early. It was my responsibility, but we were carrying back a large buck. My mind was preoccupied. I accept full responsibility for his actions.”

“You can’t take on the full burden of responsibility. Geto is old enough to know right from wrong, and he chose the wrong path. He took that girl in the woods and marked her before she even presented as an omega.” The pack leader spoke.

Suguru stood completely motionless in front of his parents. He stayed looking down at the ground. While they argued over his future in the pack, his mind was stuck on you. They had ripped you away from him the second that the pack elder had realized that your body was in heat. He wondered if you were being taken care of okay. He wondered if you missed him as much as he missed you already. He wondered if he’d get to see you again.

“He’s done so much for this pack at such a young age. Please.. Don’t do this to him. He has his whole life ahead of him.” His mother pleaded once again. “We’ll keep a closer eye on him. We’ll do whatever it takes.”

“What about my daughter’s life?” Your dad finally spoke up after being silent for far too long. “That bastard tainted her. She could’ve presented as anything: alpha, beta, or omega, but no, he forced biology upon her with a godforsaken mark. He should be shunned from the pack.”

“He can’t be allowed to be in the same space as her. He’s already proven that he can’t be trusted. The last thing we need is for a young omega to fall pregnant because an alpha doesn’t know restraint.”

“Don’t you two have family anywhere she can stay with… just until she’s a bit older? The mark might fade after they’ve been separated for a while.” Another pack elder spoke up to your parents.

“You’re seriously removing our daughter instead of the problem child? That’s fucking rich. So, what will happen when he marks another omega far too early, huh?” Your dad argued, clenching his jaw.

“I wouldn’t do that.” Suguru finally spoke up, looking your dad in the eye. A stare off between the two ensued.

“If this is how this pack operates, fine. I don’t want her in here if we protect alphas simply due to their gender instead of the innocent.” Your dad finally grit out before stomping away from the meeting.

It took three full grown alphas and Satoru to hold Suguru back while you were leaving. They wouldn’t even allow him to say goodbye to you, not even when you cried out his name. Not even when you begged, pleaded, asked why.

*** *** ***

Suguru was never quite the same after you and your family left. It had been years. He was just a boy when they took you. Now, he’s a twenty year old brooding alpha. He was aloof towards everyone, and he only confided in Satoru. His friend seemed to he the only one who understood that he wasn’t trying to hurt you. He didn’t know that his mark would cause a great deal of stress on your body, and had he known, he wouldn’t have done it.

The rest of the pack looked at him with reserved disdain. He was a stain upon their community. Your parents were well liked in the pack, and he was the reason they weren’t there anymore.

Words kept getting tossed around, and the pack members who weren’t there for the meeting were terribly misinformed. As the rumors spread, the story became more and more horrid. They painted him out to be a monster who held you down while you begged him not to and bit your neck forcibly.

Suguru never tried to correct the stories. He had nothing to prove to these people, the people that sent you away from him. They could all think of him as a monster, especially if it meant they stayed the hell away from him.

The only thing that kept Geto from expulsion from the pack was his innate ability to hunt. His beast from was truly that of an apex predator. He went on extravagant hunting trips often, and he kept the pack fed on wonderful meats.

He looked for you, his mate, on every hunting trip. He tried to remember the faint smell that started to emit from you when your body went into heat. He looked for every sign of you.

He knew the mate bond was still strong because he could feel everything through it. He hated when you felt sad. He knew you experienced some sort of nightmares without him there to care for you while you slept. Your happiness made him feel bittersweet. He wanted you to be happy, but the thought of you being happy without him made him sick.

Your heats were the worst. Suguru would sulk in his tent in a state of horny depression. He should be taking care of you, tending to your body and every desire you had. He should be helping you nest and kissing every spot on your body while cooing praises to you.

Instead, he’s laying in his own sweat and cum, too much of a sad sack of shit to make himself go get cleaned up. His tent stunk of potent pheromones. Your heats, even while being so far away, managed to throw him into a rut each time.

He could feel your dissatisfaction. You were pining for him to come help you. It was as if you were screaming down the mate bond for him to come save you. He missed you so damn bad that he started to hate the smell of strawberries. They smelled too much of you and reminded him of what he couldn’t have

He knew that the elders still kept in touch with your parents. They were high ranking leaders in the community after all. They knew where you were, and they still opted to keep you away from him.

You and him were suffering because of the fucking elders. They caused all of this. If they would’ve kept their fucking noses out of y’all’s business, none of this would be happening.

“Satoru… I’m going to kill them. I’m going to murder them all. I can’t do this anymore. She needs me.” Suguru was practically crying for help. He was sat in his tent, holding his head in shame. His arms and legs were practically trembling.

The homicidal thoughts started when you left. It was sneaky at first, but they only got worse over time. His friend was the only one who knew about them. He knew how badly Geto craved to end their lives.

“Let me talk to them. They might listen to me.” Satoru spoke calmly as he gazed as his heartbroken best friend. The tent was heavy with the scent of alpha rut and distress. He could tell Suguru was really going through it right now.

*** *** ***

Suguru’s beast form was nothing short of a monster. He was the strongest, right next to Satoru.

His black fur was matted with blood as he pawed at the remains of the pack leader. Satoru had tried to talk to them, but they instantly shut him down. Then, to make matters worse, they sent him away on a hunting trip that same day.

Without Satoru there to keep the thoughts at bay, Suguru literally couldn’t help himself. The beast shifted before he could even do anything about it, and he was instantly blood hungry.

Tears coated his face as he shifted back to his human form. Killing the elders didn’t even help soothe him. He just wanted his fucking mate for christ’s sake. He sat on the floor in a scatter of papers from where the two beasts had fought valiantly.

Nothing could replicate the feeling of emptiness that filled him in that moment. His best friend wasn't there. His mate had been gone for oh so long. The pack leaders were now all deceased. When tomorrow morning rolled around, he'd likely be ostracized from his pack for the murders.

He laid his head back against the wall with his hands covering his face. He just wanted to see Satoru one last time before he was expelled and shunned. He wanted to apologize and thank Gojo for sticking by him for all these years.

At some point, the sleep deprivation got to Geto, causing for him to fall asleep naked in the massacre that was the pack leader's tent. Nightmares of slaughter plagued his dreams. Your face haunted him. He wondered what could've been had he known better than to mark you at an early age.

It felt so real, that he swore he heard your voice, though it was different in his dream. Your voice wasn't as squeaky as it use to be. It was smooth with age and experience yet still soft spoken. Maybe he was forgetting the way you sounded? The thought terrified him. His memory was all he had left of you.

You were... laughing? No, it couldn't be you. The voice sounded more like Gojo's-

The tent unzipping. A gasp. "Shit. Don't-" Gojo's voice.

Geto fluttered his eyes open to see Gojo standing in the small doorway of the makeshift shelter. He had... a woman's eyes covered. Her bottom lip was trembling.

"Suguru, what did you do?" Satoru asked like he did all those years back, and suddenly, Suguru felt like a small child who had no impulse control. He quickly scrambled up to his feet, using a random sheet of paper to cover his manhood.

"You were gone, and I just... I just really fucking..." His words trailed as his eyes looked over towards the woman. His heart started to pound in his chest. She looked... so much like you. It was as if he was being confronted with the ghost of his past once again.

"I went to go get her, Suguru." Satoru calmly explained with a hint of bite in his tone. "You really think I'd listen to what those old geezers said about not going to look for her? I grilled every last one of them until they slipped up and gave me enough information to find her."

Geto's eyes were as wide as saucers, and his pupils were dilated as he stared at the woman who was quietly trembling next to Satoru. His hand covered most of her face. "Is that...?"

"In the flesh." Satoru said as his hand slowly dropped from your eyes. Chills shot through Geto's body as he saw his mate's face again.

"Sugu..." Your little nickname for him. His breath went labored as he took in the sight of you for just one moment. His eyes involuntarily filled with tears before he dropped the sheet of paper and lunged for you.

His large muscular arms wrapped around your frame, pulling you into a tight embrace against him. "I'm so sorry.." He whispered in your ear like a mantra. His hands roamed across your back as if he was double checking that this was real.

“Fuck. I’m so sorry.” He whispered again in a pained voice. This was not how he wanted you to see him. He was at his lowest. “I’ve missed you so much. It feels like I’ve been underwater this entire time.”

You gently nuzzled your face into his chest, and you took a deep breath, savoring his scent. A content hum fled your lips. He smelled like home. “I’ve missed you too, Sugu.”

Suguru had grown so much since you last saw him. His body was now muscular and toned. His hair was even longer. It was tied up in a half knot while the rest of it messily splayed down his back. He wasn’t just a boy anymore — a man now.

“I hate to be the one to ruin this reunion, but there’s dead pack elders that we have to deal with.” Satoru spoke up as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Suguru reluctantly pulled back from you, not ready to let go of his missing mate. “I have no intention of staying here.” He said, eyes glancing over to the corpse on the ground. “This pack is a shit show.”

“So, what do we do?” Satoru asked, cocking an eyebrow at his friend. It was never a question in his mind. Satoru was going to go wherever Geto went.

“We start our own pack.” Geto casually threw out the idea with a small shrug. “It’s not impossible. If those incompetent creatures could do it, so can we.”

*** *** ***

You were happy and content to follow Geto and Gojo wherever the two went. It had been so long since you’ve seen the two males. You had almost forgotten how much mischief they could get up to.

Every day was filled with hiking, trying to find a new place to settle down. Every night was spent around a small fire, listening to the stories of the two while you were sent away.

When you and Geto would finally lay together next to the fire, he’d lazily play with your hair and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. He’d tell you how beautiful you were and how there was never a day that went by when he didn’t think of you.

“Have I mentioned how terrible it was without you?” He murmured in your ear while his large hand was gently caressing your hip. He would carefully slip it underneath your shirt. The pad of his thumb caressing your soft skin.

“Only a million times.” You giggled in response, looking up at him to meet his gaze.

“Make it a million and one then. It was terrible.” He quietly laughed, not wanting to wake up Satoru who was snuggled on the ground on the other side of the fire.

“I missed you too.” You replied. Your hand carefully reached up and cupped his cheek. Your head was resting on his bicep while your legs were intertwined. “I tried calling out to you often through the mate bond.”

“I felt it each time.” He admitted as his hand slowly snaked higher up your torso. “I felt each time you went into heat and needed me.”

The fire calmly crackling masked the small whimper that fled from your lips. “I’m sorry. I know that probably drove you crazy.”

“You have no idea.” He muttered as he leaned in and pressed a small kiss to the mark on your neck. It hadn’t faded in the slightest. Your body knew you were his before you presented as well. “I dreamt of going out to find you.”

“Yeah? What would you do had you found me while I was in heat?”

“Mmm..” He hummed in a low tone as he gazed at you with a small smirk on his face. “I would sneak into whatever tent you were in like I use to when we were kids.” He spoke softly as his hand continued to trail up your side slowly.

“I’d find you lying there, already such a mess for me.” He went on, painting the picture vividly for you. Your eyes slipped shut as you imagined it for yourself. “Then, I’d pin you down to your nest, stopping you from taking care of yourself.” He went on, and he rolled on top of you, pinning your arms down with his free hand.

The sickly sweet scent of your arousal building lingered in the air, making Suguru’s heart pound in his chest. You smelled even more yummy than he imagined you to.

“What next?” You ask softly in a breathless voice.

“I’d kiss your lips until they were bruised.” He mumbled, and he leaned down to you before pressing his lips harshly against yours. He groaned softly as soon as he could feel you kissing back. He poured all of his love and hunger into his affections. He needed you like he needed air. You were his sole salvation - his reason for living

He carefully pushed your shirt up over your chest, and he skillfully reached behind you, unclasping your bra within a few seconds. You worked with him, pulling it away from your body before you wrapped your legs around his waist.

His hand came up and carefully cupped your breast. Hs kneaded on the soft pillowy flesh with another groan. He gently bit your swollen lip, asking for entry before proceeding to deepen the kiss. He swallowed up your small moans and gasps.

"Then," he softly pant out after parting from the kiss, "I'd mark up your neck again and again. I never want you to forget who you belong to." His head dipped into your neck, and his lips latched on to the soft skin.

He sucked, nibbled, and bit his way up and down your neck, making good on his promise to mark you up. Your hips raised up to meet his, needily searching for friction to ease the ache between your thighs.

"My poor omega.." He mumbled softly against your skin before allowing his hand to trail down and to grope you at your core.

"Fuck- Sugu.." Your voice was a soft whine, forgetting all about Gojo who was asleep not even 10 feet away.

"Shhh, princess. Don't wake him." Suguru shushed you softly with a impish grin. His hands now worked to take your pants and panties off. "Want me to keep going?"

"Please..." Your face is illuminated by the warm glow of the fire before you two. A soft blush spread across your cheeks.

"Mmm, then you have to be quiet." Suguru teased before he allowed himself the pleasure of gazing at your glistening cunt. "Oh, so pretty." He mused before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your folds.

Suguru's mind was running haywire as he generously lapped at your wet heat. He had imagined this happening so many times while he fucked his own fist. It's all finally worked out. He's finally gotten to taste you, to hear you moan his name.

Your fingers entangled in his hair, holding onto him for support while he devoured you thoroughly.

"Mmn.. Sugu~ S'close... please." You quietly whimpered out, warning him of your impending release while he slurped at your cunt, drinking down your slick as if you were a fountain of youth.

"Can you hold it, baby?" His voice was muffled as he didn't dare part from you.

"N-no, I-" You softly whine, starting to rock your hips back and forth across his tongue. You were desperate for release, nearly riding his face to get there.

Suguru tugged back away from you. "That just won't do, darling." He mumbles as he unbuttons his pants and pulls his pants and boxers down just enough. "I need your first time finishing with me to be on my cock. Think you can do that for me?"

You're quick to nod in agreement with his wish, desperately needing the approval of your alpha. You had already caught a glimpse of his size when you and Satoru first arrived. Even when soft, Suguru still isn't small. Now that he's fully hard, it's almost intimidating.

"Mmm~ such a good girl." He quietly praised as he carefully guided his cock between your slick covered folds. He held your gaze as he rubbed his tip up and down, creating a wet "schlick" noise with each movement. His poor neglected cock leaked sticky pre-cum along your core, making everything so messy.

"Bite on my hand." He instructed as he placed his hand over your mouth. "Don't want you makin' too much noise." With a small huff, you bite down onto his hand.

Humping you a few more times, Geto finally decided to push himself into you. Your body immediately went rigid as you tried to cope with the new pressure between your legs. It felt as if he was trying to split you in two, completely impaling you with his thick cock.

"Ohh~ fuuu... That's it.." Geto's voice was deeper and extremely breathy. His eyes were half-lidded as he continued to watch your facial reactions. The small tears crowding the corners of your eyes made him throb. "You're so fucking tight."

"it's not gonna fit-" You quietly whined behind the palm of his hand. Meanwhile, your fingernails were embedded into his back, decorating him with scratch marks.

"It's gonna fit, baby." He quietly reassured you as he pulled back a bit and sunk back in. Your slick coated his length, making it easier for him to push in more. "Gotta let me stretch you."

"Ngh~ ah.." Your voice cracked as your leaned your head back against the ground. Suguru's hips rolled, just barely fucking into your tight cunt. He'd add another inch with each thrust, allowing you time to gradually get use to him.

The air was filled with shushed panting and breathy whines. The sound of your sopping cunt squeezing around him was like a holy song to him. You were the only slice of heaven Geto would ever see.

He had been so caring; you hadn't even realized he was all the way in until you felt a thump towards your stomach. "Ohmygod-" The gasp fell from your mouth before you could even think to stop it. "Fuuuck... feel you right here.." You meekly murmured as you pointed towards your tummy.

"Yeah baby? Feel me all the way in there?" He humors your intoxicated speech as he's lovingly thrusting into you. "You feel so fucking good." He praised as he peppered your face in sweet kisses.

Your spongy walls cling to his dick with each soft thwack of his balls clapping against the flesh of your ass. You're completely soaked around him, allowing him to glide in and out with ease.

His fat tip was damp with sweltering pre-cum gathering at his slit. With each thrust, his tip was kissing at your womb, making you feel all dumb in the head. He occupied his mouth with kissing and sucking more love bites into your shoulders. "So good, baby... ah~ so fuckin' good." He continued to mumble praises in a pussy drunk tone.

Both of your bodies were glistening in a mix of sweat and slick. The fire raged beside you two keeping you very warm while he pumped in and out. "Can't get enough. Need more.. ngh~ M-missed you so much." He growled lowly in your ear as his tender thrusts grew sloppier - fueled by an intense need.

"Suguu~ fuck me." That little needy whine was all he needed to start forcefully pounding into you. Noise level be damned; he needed his omega on a biblical level that Satoru would never be able to understand.

Plap! Plap! Plap!

Your poor cunt was practically sobbing for him - making a complete mess between your thighs as his cock rudely drilled into you. Your back arched up off of the ground, and you could feel your eyes rolling back. It felt like you were ascending to a higher being.

Suguru caught your lips in a sloppy kiss. Strings of saliva connected your mouths like strings of fate as you muffled each others moans. "Need to knot you - f-fuck, please, let me knot you."

Your legs wrap completely around Suguru's waist. "Knot me, Sugu.. hngh~ I'm s'close.."

Suguru's legs began to shake as he could feel his balls growing heavy. Instincts completely drove him to keep fucking himself into your drooling cunt. His eyes stayed on you as he felt himself growing closer and closer to the edge.

"Sh-shit!" You hissed as your gummy walls suddenly tightened around him. The squelching noises slowed as he felt his knot starting to swell. His hands gripped onto your hips as he had to force his way deep inside your wet heat. The knot locking you two in place before he completely spilled inside you.

"Fuuucking hell..." Suguru breathed out as he stayed planted on top of you. His breath was labored as his hand brushed a few stray hairs from your face. "No one will ever take you away from me again. You're mine."

Bonus Scene!

Upon waking up the next morning on Suguru's bare chest, you sighed contently. Your body ached in the best way. Though, you knew it would only make this trek even harder.

You slowly sat up with a quiet groan. Your face was slightly sticky from sweat and drool. He had really wore you out last night.

"Morning, sleepy head." Suguru mumbled as his eyes rested upon your tired face.

"Mmm.. morning." You quietly hummed as your hands instinctively smoothed out your hair, trying to make yourself look presentable.

"Good morning, Satoru." The white-haired alpha spoke to himself in a grumpy, sarcastic tone as he stared at the two of you.

"It's too early for your attitude, Satoru." Suguru quietly laughed as he looked at his friend.

"You can deal with my attitude given what I had to deal with last night." He huffed as his lips curled into a slight pout.

"You didn't-"

"Oh, I did." He confirmed. "Oooohhh, please knot me, Sugu. Oh so big and strong!" He mocked your voice in a high pitched tone.

"Oh god, please stop." You whine as you covered your ears. A nervous laugh involuntarily bubbled up from your throat.

"Mmm, fuck. Gonna knot this tight cun-"

"That's enough, Satoru." Suguru playfully warned as he shook his head with a calm smile. It didn't bother him one bit that he heard the two of you last night because he knew that Satoru was going to hear you two again tonight as well.

Read the rest of my monstertober here !

[j2hoes]

All Your Fault (Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader)

Word Count: 12.5K

Summary: In no world could Y/N like Steve Harrington, that's what she kept telling herself despite everybody's insistence that he was a good guy. They couldn't possibly be right, could they?

Warnings - Mature Language, Suicide, Mentions Of Sex, Death, Injuries, Bullying, Drug Use

A/N: This is my longest fic yet and of course it's for the one and only Steve Harrington! Just wanted to say that I know this doesn't follow the exact plot and I have changed some things so it fits in with the storyline. Also I am not condoning bullying in any way, shape or form!! Not proofread so forgive me.

“Hey, dingus, we need a ride!”

My bedroom door swings open, just about slamming against the wall before the irritating voice of my younger brother reverberates throughout my bedroom. Startled by the noise, my head snaps in Dustin’s direction. Not expecting to see his little group of friends in tow or for them to be in the company of Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley. Who I know them to spend a lot of time with nowadays despite my incessant complaints about Harrington being quite possibly the worst person on planet.

“Dude! Knock much?” I groan, swiftly closing the notebook that I had previously been writing in, in order to avoid any wandering eyes. “I was in the middle of something!”

“What? Making out with your stuffed toys?” Dustin jokes, resulting in a few snickers from his friends and a roll of their eyes from the older teens.

“I’d be happy to make out with you.” Mike comments, my brother throwing a small tap to the back of his head in disapproval.

“Ew gross. Get out of my bedroom you little perverts!” 

“Listen dickhead, mom and dad have gone to the movies and if I’m remembering correctly they said you have to drive me places when they’re not here. So, we’ll be taking that ride now please.” 

“Fuck’s sake.” I grumble, combing my fingers through my hair in annoyance. “Doesn’t your new best friend Steve drive?”

My voice is laced with malice, eyes fixated on the older boy with a glare, eyebrows raised as I await his response. Not that I needed any confirmation, everybody in Hawkins knows that Steve drives. God, he never shuts up about his deep red BMW, it’s one of his more insufferable qualities.

“Yeah, my car is kind of in the garage right now. It’s gonna be out of action for a while.” He admits, cheeks flushing a soft scarlet indicating his embarrassment. 

“So that makes you our designated driver.” Dustin tells me, a smug look on his face as he knows that I have no option but to accept defeat. “Plus, your truck is a lot bigger than Steve’s car. You won’t even have to speak to us because we’ll sit in the bed!”

“Fine! But I am not giving you a ride home because I’ve got a shift at the roller rink tonight and I cannot afford to take another night off!” I state, reluctantly grabbing my keys and throwing my fur coat over my shoulders.

Making my way towards the group, they’re quick to make their way down the staircase, scurrying out the front door as though afraid I may change my mind at any given second. I take my time locking up the house, wanting to delay the inevitability of having Steve Harrington in my truck for as long as I physically can. Sure, it’s annoying having to cart my brother and his friends around the town of Hawkins at their will, but the kids, I can deal with. One of my childhood bullies, not so much. 

Strolling over to the garage, it’s hard to miss the way Steve and Robin stand close to one another, giggling like school girl’s at whatever they were discussing. With furrowed brows, I can’t help but wonder when they became friends. Not only is Robin a year younger than Steve and I, but she’s also the complete opposite of Steve’s normal company. After all, he is friends with cheerleaders and jocks, Buckley is in the school band and spends most of her free time studying other languages. There is no world in which they could possibly be friends and yet here they are.

“Steve and Robin are gonna ride up front with you.” Dustin speaks, clambering into the bed of the truck with very little grace.

“What? No, you can all get in the back!” I argue, offering Max a hand as she struggles to pull herself up.

“Sorry but eight of us back here is too much of a squeeze, guess you’ll just have to make do.” Lucas remarks, arguing my brother’s case for him, forcing me to plaster on a fake smile as if I couldn’t be happier.

“Okay. Let’s just hope I don’t crash on the way, I’d hate to see a six body pile up on the side of the road.” My tone is ominous and I catch the slight gleam of fear in each and every one of the kid’s eyes. “Where am I taking you assholes?”

“Starcourt please Y/N.” Max hastily replies, hand clutching the side of the truck so tight her knuckles are turning white and I smirk to myself as I close the tailgate, pleased I have managed to instill a sense of panic in the usually overly confident group.

Hopping up into the driver’s seat, I’m about to turn on the ignition when out of the corner of my eye, I register that Steve has taken it upon himself to choose the middle seat. Situating himself comfortably between Robin and I.

“Uh no. Not happening. You two need to switch sides.” 

“What why?” Steve questions and I could be wrong but I’m almost positive there is a twinge of hurt in his tone.

“Because I don’t mind Robin.” I smile sweetly at the girl, before replacing it with a scowl as my eyes lay on the chestnut haired doofus. “You, on the other hand, I’d rather take a knife to the eye, than sit besides you.”

As much as it feels like a punch to the gut when I spot the pained expression wash over Harrington’s face, it is completely overshadowed by the sense of pride that I feel at being able to make him feel small, the same way him and his posse of imbeciles did to me for years. I know, deep down, that I should be the bigger person, that just because he treated me poorly throughout our school years that I shouldn’t do the same to him. Yet, I’m resentful. I’m resentful and having accepted the cruelty of this world, I’m also bitter. No longer the sweet and optimistic young girl that I once was.

“Yeah, I actually can’t take the middle seat.” Robin confesses, an awkward smile resting on her face. “I get real bad claustrophobia.” 

With an exasperated huff, I focus my eyes on the road as we begin the drive, doing my best to ignore the passenger sitting beside me. Even if I am trying to distract myself, I’m unable to hide my annoyance, hands gripping the steering wheel so hard, I’m afraid it may shatter beneath me.

Fortunately it’s only a short ten minute drive to the Starcourt Mall, as long as traffic is in my favor, I should even shave off a couple of minutes. Though the silence within the small space is deafening, frustrating me even more. Before I can stop myself, I’m reaching over to turn on the radio, hoping the joyful melodies of Joe Jackson’s Steppin’ Out will boost my mood before my shift.

Unluckily for me, as I reach to grab the steering wheel once again, my hand lightly brushes over Steve’s hand, causing me to flinch away with such force it feels as though I have been electrocuted. 

“Sorry.” Steve mumbles, tucking his hands away into his pockets to avoid any more uncomfortable interactions.

“So, I’m sensing a teeny bit of tension here.” Robin comments, stating the obvious.

“Yeah, no shit Robin.” I snap, feeling my entire body go stiff at her teasing.

Glancing over at the two teens, I take note of the way Robin slumps down into the seat at my words. Folding her arms over her chest as if she’s a child that has just been scolded by their parents. 

“Why are the kids so desperate to go to Starcourt anyway?” I ask, not directing the question at either of them in particular in an attempt to change the subject, feeling slightly guilty at my previous outburst.

“Oh um, we’re meeting Eddie, just thought it’d be nice to take that bunch of losers out for the day you know. Nancy and Jonathan might even be joining us later too!” Robin explains, smiling to herself as she peers out the back window to make sure the kids are doing fine.

“Besides, they deserves a break with everything that’s been-”

“What Steve means to say is that they’ve had a lot on at the moment, what with school. We think they’re getting a little stressed.” Robin interrupts, doing her best to subtly elbow Steve’s stomach, though I’m able to spot it, mostly because his body jerks into mine as she does so.

“Why do I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me?” I ask, slyly peering over at them from the corner of my mouth.

“Nope, we’re not hiding anything.” Robin asserts, turning away from me to gaze out of the window.

“Yeah, nothing to tell. Definitely nothing going on.” Steve agrees, the haste in which they both answered only raising my suspicions.

Before I can question them even further, I realize I’m pulling into the Starcourt parking lot. Quickly finding a space and turning off the ignition, I don’t give the duo any time to get out of the car before I’m turning the child lock on, forcing them to remain in the vehicle with me.

“I swear to God, if my baby brother is in any sort of trouble and you haven’t told me, I’ll kill the pair of you, okay?” I ask, both of them nodding their heads furiously at my threat and leaping out of the passenger door the moment that I unlock it.

Rolling down my window, I can hear the kids hopping over the side of the truck, eagerly chattering amongst themselves at the plans they have made for the day. Tiny smile forming on my face as I light a cigarette, watching Dustin jokingly fight with Steve. The interaction holds no maliciousness, I can see no sign of the older boy deliberately trying to hurt him and for a split second I find myself questioning whether it could be possible that the great King Steve has changed in his ways. However, I’m quick to shake that thought away.

“Do my eyes deceive me or is that Y/N Henderson?” Eddie Munson’s voice calls from a mere few feet away.

“Oh shit.” I whisper, taking a long drag of my cigarette before jumping out of the truck and resting my back against the door, waiting for him to approach.

It’s safe to say Eddie and I have a complicated relationship. What started out as him simply being nothing more than my dealer, blossomed into a somewhat beautiful friendship. Considering we’re an unlikely duo, we have a lot in common. Sharing similar taste in films, books and sense of humor.

I suppose it was inevitable that we’d end up sleeping together. Fuelled by our drug induced state, we shared a very hot and very exciting night of passion together. Following with me sneaking out of his trailer first thing the next morning after I had slowly come to my senses and discerned that our relationship should remain just friends. Not wanting to pursue anything at this moment in time.

“Hey Eddie, it’s been a while.” I comment, flicking the ash from my cigarette onto the ground as he places an arm beside my head, caging me between his body and the truck.

“I never heard from you.” He speaks quietly, doing his best to avoid the attention of the group standing not too far from us.

“I’m sorry. I’ve had a lot going on.” I mumble, looking anywhere but the boy in front of me.

As my gaze finds the group, my eyes instantly fall upon Steve Harrington. He’s speaking to Max, clearly in some sort of debate with her that looks like it may be about to explode into a full blown argument, yet his attention is solely focused on me. Observing the close proximity between me and the metalhead. His eyes falling to my lips as I allow the smoke to exhale from my mouth.

“You know, you could at least look at me when I’m talking to you.” Eddie chuckles, attempting to hide the hurt undertone in his voice, head rotating to follow the direction of my eyeline.

“Sorry, I just don’t get what Harrington’s problem is. He’s been staring over here this entire time.” I tell him, finally staring up at the tall boy.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He asks, teasing smile resting upon his lips. I shake my head slowly, dropping the cigarette to the ground. “He thinks you’re hot.”

My hands slap against his chest instinctively, the idea being completely and utterly absurd to me that I have to laugh. 

“I’m serious! Look at you, you’re a fucking smoke show.” Eddie asserts, pushing his argument even more as he sneaks another glance over to the topic of our conversation. “Want me to prove it?”

The idea of Steve Harrington finding me even remotely attractive is so far off the table that I find myself entertained by the idea of proving Eddie wrong. I’m sure he’s simply intrigued by the idea of me and the freak being friends, nothing more. 

With a small nod, Eddie’s hands drop to my waist, touch as light as a feather to not push any boundaries that I may not be comfortable with. Playing along with his antics, I take the lapels of his leather jacket in my hands, pulling his body impossibly closer to mine. The hard expression on Steve’s face is difficult to miss as Eddie’s head rests in the crook of my neck, peppering gentle kisses along the base.

“Ew Eddie, come on man!  That’s my sister!” Dustin’s whines pull us back to reality and Eddie takes a dramatic step away from me to please the curly haired young boy.

Although we now stand with plenty of space between the two of us, Harrington’s face remains in the same cold expression as before. Jaw clenched tightly as his eyes flick between Eddie and I. Leaving me more confused than ever at what his problem is.

“Alright, see you later kids.” I shout, climbing back into my truck and leaving them in the capable hands of their babysitters. “Don’t be causing any trouble!”

***

Steve could think of nothing other than the mean girl that had reluctantly drove them to the mall. It didn’t matter how many stores they went in, or arcade games they played, he just couldn’t get her off his mind. Wondering why she had such a huge vendetta against him. What could he possibly have done to this girl, that he is almost certain he has never met before, to cause her to act in such an unpleasant way towards him.

He knew he hadn’t been the nicest of guys throughout high school, caring more about his popularity and how his friends perceived him than being a decent person. However, he was sure he’d remember if he had been rude to her. He was sure he wouldn’t have been rude to a girl like her. Hell, he was wondering why he hadn’t pursued her sooner. Her beauty indescribable and more radiant than any other girl he had seen before.

“Steve, what’s going on? I’m regretting picking you to be on my team!” Dustin exclaims, frustrated at the loss of yet another game due to Steve’s lack of focus.

“That was your sister?” He asks in disbelief, still completely overwhelmed by the limited interaction they had shared hours prior.

“Yeah, she’s a full on bitch right?” Dustin comments, unaware of his friend’s infatuation.

“Has she always been that unkind?” Steve asks, causing Dustin to look up at him with a questioning glint in his eye.

“Oh you got to face her wrath did you?” The younger boy laughs, amused at the thought of his normally cool and charming friend being bitched out by his older sister. “Yeah, she still hates you dude, never shuts up about you actually.”

“Wait, she talks about me?” His tone is hopeful, feeling pleased to know that he’s on her mind. I mean, that’s got to be a good sign, right?

“Calm down loverboy. It’s not a good thing.” Dustin smirks, though when he sees the downcast look on his friend's face, he can’t but sigh, patting him on the shoulder lightly. “Look, I think you’re cool, smart, charming, and some would say classically handsome but my sister usually refers to you as a no good, shit for brains, wank stain. Amongst other things, that’s usually her preferred term.”

Steve sighs at his words, combing his fingers through his hair awkwardly as he comes to terms with the fact that he quite possibly has a zero percent chance of becoming romantically involved with the intriguing girl. He knew that since leaving high school his luck with the ladies had severely dwindled, struggling to maintain a relationship that didn’t solely focus on sex, and yet, his heart sank a little lower knowing that the one girl that had truly piqued his interest was the one girl he would never stand a chance with.

Dustin, on the other hand, took pity on the boy he looked up to. Despite the countless tales of torture and misery that he knew Steve had put his sister through during their school years, he knew that the boy had changed. Sure, he’d felt sympathy towards Steve when he ended up working at Scoops Ahoy following his graduation, knowing how much it took a hit to his ego that he’d lost his King Steve title and was now serving children scoops of ice cream every passing day. However, he knew that the shitty job was a good thing for his friend, alongside his role as the unofficial group babysitter and assisting in their pursuit to save Hawkins, Dustin knew deep down that taking such a low blow was Steve’s saving grace. Reminding him that he wasn’t in fact above everybody else and truly changing him for the better. The young boy had seen it, but he also couldn’t blame his sister for being blind to it.

“Look Steve, I know that you’re a good person and I know that you’ve changed but you put Y/N through hell. She struggled a lot at the hands of you and your friends and I know she’d kill me for telling you this but she’s been in therapy since she was fourteen years old because of what you guys did to her. We were really worried about her actually.” Dustin admits, Steve’s breath catching in his throat as he hears the shakiness in the boy’s voice. “My parents still are. She didn’t even bother applying to college, and now she spends most of her time hiding herself away in her room or getting high with Eddie.”

“Dustin I’m so sorry, I don’t even remember her.” Steve states, struggling to get over the sinking feeling in his stomach that seems to be consuming him.

“Of course you don’t remember her, you only thought about yourself and your stupid friends back then.” Those words hit Steve like a ton of bricks, never had anybody truly called him out on his former behavior, not to this extent anyway. “Look, you just need to show her you’re a good guy, I’m not gonna say it’ll be easy because if I know Y/N, then I know she can be a cruel, heartless bitch, but I also know that she has a good heart and as long as you can prove to her that you’re sorry and that you’ve changed then she’ll come around. Maybe just wait until after we’ve destroyed the Mind Flayer.”

***

Monday nights at the roller rink are always notoriously quiet, only a couple of people passing through our doors for the majority of the night. I’ve argued with my manager on numerous occasions, pleading with him to change our closing time from eleven to nine, but to no avail, I fail every single time. As a punishment for doing so, I’m placed on almost every monday night shift alone, which wouldn’t be too bad, had I something to do. Instead I stand at the counter, lazily snacking on some popcorn that I most definitely didn’t pay for, awaiting any customers that may wander into the building.

Hearing the large doors squeak open, I immediately straighten my posture, my best winning smile slapped on my face as I prepare to serve the group that just strolled through the doors. That is until I see the group just so happens to be the same group that I dropped off at the mall earlier in the day. Smile dropping from my face almost instantly.

“What do you want?” 

“Don’t you mean, welcome to Paradise Skate World, how can I be of assistance?” Eddie jokes, leaning against the countertop.

“No, I mean what do you want?”

Wasting no time, the group excitedly shout their shoe sizes at me, a flurry of words and numbers that I struggle to understand. After swapping a few pairs multiple times, I finally manage to line nine pairs of rollerskates along the countertop, the kids frantically grabbing at them and discarding their personal shoes all over the floor. Not caring to use the cubby holes provided.

“That’ll be twenty seven dollars please.” My voice is monotonous, not caring to be pleasant with them, not that they seem to care.

Steve doesn’t speak as he hands over thirty dollars, mumbling a quiet ‘thank you’ as I hand him his change. He sits beside Robin on one of the dirty old benches, helping her to lace up the boots before slowly escorting her over to the rink where she is left in the capable hands of the younger teens. Who, for whatever reason, all seem to be incredibly confident on eight wheels.

Having lost sight of Steve as my attention was fixed on the kids gleefully skating around the rink, I round the counter preparing to pick up all of their discarded shoes, only to see the boy already on the floor matching pairs of shoes together.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” I tell him, joining him on the carpet to gather together the rest of the shoes.

If I didn’t dislike him so much, I’d think his actions were sweet. Paying for the entire group and cleaning up after them, he’s a customer service worker's dream, yet I still can’t help but feel resentful. Why couldn’t he have been like this in high school?

“I know, but those guys make so much mess that it’s not fair to leave it all for you to clean up.” Steve comments, placing the last pair of shoes in one of the cubby holes. He rises to his feet slowly before offering his hand to help me up. However, I choose not to accept his help, rising to my feet without his assistance.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.”

He smiles softly at me, returning to the bench to remove his own shoes and placing the rollerskates on. When he rises from the bench, I can’t help but giggle at the shakiness in his legs, standing like a baby deer, he just about makes it to the countertop before needing to grab hold of it in order to keep himself upright. Resulting in a loud laugh from me, finding much amusement in the situation.

“Need some help Harrington?” I ask through my roars of laughter, having to cover my mouth to keep my volume down as he looks at me with sheer panic in his eyes.

“You sure you don’t wanna just stand there and laugh at me in my time of need?” He questions, flashing a cheesy smile my way to ensure I know that he is joking.

With a small sigh, I make my way over to him, taking his hands in mine, forcing him to let go of the countertop that he was clutching onto. 

“I may not like you Steve Harrington, but I’m not gonna let you fall on your ass like an idiot, not with the kids watching.” I state, walking backwards at a snail’s pace to allow him to find his feet. “Besides, it’s company policy to offer a hand when needed.”

Steve laughs at my words, a deep chuckle that causes my mouth to quirk upwards. Am I actually smiling in the presence of Steve Harrington? Shaking my head, I rid myself of the contentment on my face. 

“I’m going to embarrass myself aren’t I?” He asks, staring over my shoulder towards the rink with worry. “I don’t know why they thought this was a good idea, I’ve never skated in my life.”

“That’s probably exactly why they wanted to come here. They get to embarrass you and they also get to annoy the fuck out of me at the same time.” 

“I’ll try my best to keep them from annoying you, it’s the least I can do after ruining your peaceful evening.” His voice is soft, and I find myself unable to look away from his face.

It comes as no shock that the boy is attractive, he had girls falling over their feet for him since the moment he hit puberty. I’d never understood the obsession with King Steve, though I suppose I’d never been this close to him before. Never able to see how boyishly handsome he was. 

Chestnut brown hair that falls lazily over his forehead, coffee coloured eyes that hold a deep softness and a cheeky twinkle. His nose falls in a perfect slope, lips plump in a gorgeous salmon color with a sprinkling of light freckles scattered across his face. He truly is the epitome of beauty, it’s just such a shame that his personality is completely lacking.

I’m snapped out of my trance when I feel the hardwood of the rink beneath my feet, hesitantly letting go of Steve’s hands as he pushes himself forward ever so slowly. Testing the waters as to how far he can go without falling flat on his face.

“Well you did it. Now you just have to show that pack of dickheads that their ploy to embarrass you isn’t going to work.” 

He smiles at my comment, opening his mouth to say something in return, however, I spin myself around and hastily walk back to my position at the counter before he can say anything. Muttering a small ‘have fun’ as I do so. Not wanting to be entranced by him further and not wanting to forget about all the shit he put me through just because we had a fairly nice interaction for all of ten minutes.

In an effort to distract myself, I busy myself with cleaning any and every surface behind the counter. Very unusual behavior for me, but at this point, I would do anything to get the thought of Steve possibly being a good person out of my mind. Even if I have to spend my time cleaning to do so. Though, I guess anything is better than gazing longingly over at the boy in the rink and trying to ignore the racing of my heart.

“You know, I used to think Steve was a bad guy too.”

Robin’s voice startles me as I don’t notice her standing by the counter, she’s smirking playfully at me. 

“How the fuck are you and him friends? I mean, no offense but you’re exactly the type of person whose life he would’ve ruined in high school.” I don’t mean to come across as rude but my tone definitely says otherwise, Robin raising her eyebrows at my statement, clearly taking offense.

“Steve has a good heart, he’s doing his best. I know it’s not my place to say anything and I have no idea what went down between the two of you but what I do know is that if he can reconcile with Nancy, Jonathan and Eddie then perhaps that’s a sign you should give him a chance.” Robin remarks and against my best judgment, my eyes instantly find him out on the floor of the rink. Max and El hold his hands as they drag him around, all proudly displaying their delight.

“He did a lot of fucked up shit to me Robs.” I sigh, knowing that no matter how much I want to forgive him, I’ll most likely take my hatred to the grave. “They all did.”

The girl follows my lead and releases her own sigh, reaching across the countertop to take my hands in her’s. Thumbs gently stroking the backs of my palms.

“I know, I’m not going to excuse his behavior. He was a complete asshole, even when I first met him, I thought he was an asshole but he proved me wrong. Trust me, I never thought I’d be over here vouching for Steve Harrington of all people.” Robin’s gaze never leaves mine as she speaks, asserting just how much she truly means the words she’s saying. “Just maybe try to let go of that grudge you’re holding, I reckon you two would actually make pretty good friends.”

***

Regardless of how much I tossed and turned, Robin’s words kept me awake for hours. Unable to sleep and with no sign of tiring myself out anytime soon, I decided to do the next best thing. Hence why I am now sitting on one of the many docks stretching out into the depths of Lovers Lake. Joint in hand as I try to process all the emotions I had managed to bury deep within me for so long.

The joint does nothing to soothe my shaking body, though I’m unsure of whether it’s from the frosty fall air or the recent events that seem to have dredged up everything in my past that I had tried to forget, either way, I wrap my fur coat tighter around myself as a weak attempt to ease the shaking. God, if only Dustin hadn’t gone and befriended the one person that caused me so much pain.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t realize anybody would be here.” The voice from behind catches me by surprise, not expecting anybody else to be down here at two am. Glancing over my shoulder, I can’t help but laugh at the world’s cruel sense of humor as the person racing through my mind stands only mere feet away. “Wait, are you crying?”

Raising a trembling hand to my face, I feel the dampness of my cheeks, clearly too high to discern that I had in fact been crying. The fact causing me to laugh once more and Steve’s face floods with one of worry, hesitantly trudging towards me and taking a seat beside me, swinging his feet over the side of the dock in the same manner as mine.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks, genuinely seeming to care about the reason for my tears, tone soft with no evidence of an ulterior motive.

“No.” I admit, offering him a weak smile whilst quickly wiping the tears away that roll down my face. “No, I’m not okay and I haven’t been for such a long time and I don’t even know why I’m telling you this because it’s all your fault.”

Steve’s mouth opens to speak and yet no words come out. Guilt scrawled across his face as he attempts to come up with the words to comfort me. Once again, I can’t help but laugh at the humorous nature of the situation. I’ve never opened up to anybody about how I’m truly feeling, hell, even my therapist doesn’t know the half of it but who feels comfortable enough to voice their darkest thoughts to a complete stranger in a very clinical setting? I’m going to blame the joint for my willingness to open up to the one person who I’d rather never speak to again.

“It’s probably really shitty of me and you probably don’t want to hear it but I am so sorry Y/N. Truly, I can’t even begin to describe how sorry I am.” Steve tells me, voice shaking and almost catching in his throat, however, he never once looks away from me. Forcing himself to own up to what he did. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Taking a drag of the joint, we remain in silence for a few moments, the only sounds to be heard are that of my repeated sniffles. It’s almost comforting in a way that the boy doesn’t speak, not rushing me nor pressuring me to accept his apology. 

“It’s funny you know, I thought I would’ve moved on from it by now. I thought that as soon as I graduated I would’ve been able to forget everything that you and your friends did to me and leave it all in the past.” I state, not even knowing where to start. I never expected to be in this position, never thought I’d get the chance to confront the monsters from my childhood but as he sits before me, he doesn’t seem to be much of a monster. “You and Carol and Tommy, you guys destroyed me. You hated me so much that I began to hate myself and I’ve never recovered from that.”

Steve lets out a sharp exhale, causing me to look over at him and what I see shocks me deeply. Although he’s trying his best to hide it, I don’t miss the tears that fall slowly down his cheeks. Guilt consuming him as he comes to terms with his actions and the direct consequences they had as a result.

“I almost killed myself, Steve.”

My words hit him like a knife to the chest and his head is snapping to face me so fast, I fear he may have given himself whiplash. Mouth slightly open in shock as he processes what I just confessed.

“You, you wh-”

“You’re not to blame for that. I could never blame you for that.” I whisper, feeling lighter as I open myself up more and more for the very first time.

“How, how did-” Steve stops himself before he speaks, this time it’s him that’s wiping away tears. “What happened?”

I know Steve is questioning whether it’s appropriate to ask. Unsure of whether I’m willing to talk about the most traumatic most of my life thus far, especially with him. With nerves coursing through my veins, I shakily offer him the joint, he accepts with a small smile, slowly taking a long drag, allowing the weed to flood through his body.

“Junior year. I think I’d been planning it for a while, or at least thinking about it. That day, I think you must’ve been at a basketball game or something, Carol and Tommy they-” I sob hysterically, feeling so much shame as I explain everything to him. “They cornered me in an alley as I was walking home. It was just the usual insults, but when I didn’t react they got angry. I don’t really remember it all, I think I’ve tried to black it out but I woke up unconscious in that alley, and I just remember feeling so at peace when I laid there.

So I went home, ran straight up to my room because I didn’t want anybody to see me. As soon as I looked in the mirror, I just felt disgusting. My eye was all swollen and my face was just covered in bruises and scratches. Not that I felt beautiful before, but I felt hideous. 

I’d been hoarding my pills for weeks at that point and I just began to take them. Handfuls at a time, I think I got about halfway through my stockpile before my mom walked in. She was screaming and crying and I couldn’t do anything, I just passed out.”

“Fuck.” Steve whispers, trying to suppress his own sniffles.

“I was in the hospital for about a week, apparently they pumped my stomach and I only have very minor damage to my internal organs. I had to practically beg them not to take me to the psych ward though.” I chuckle at the memory, pleading with the doctors that I was fine and it was all just a mistake, even though that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

“I had no idea that Carol and Tommy did that to you.” Steve admits, dropping the joint into the lake as he clenches his fists tightly at the thought of what took place in that alleyway. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, I could spend my life apologizing to you and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

I’ve never seen Steve so emotional before, candidly breaking down in the most vulnerable way as he allows his sobs to be released. Face flushed scarlet and throat raw from how much he is wailing. I thought I would feel better if I made him feel the same as he made me feel. If I made him cry so hard that he thought he would never feel happiness again. However, seeing him in this state doesn’t even make me the tiniest bit happier. It doesn’t bring me an ounce of joy to see the boy this way no matter how much I thought I would.

In all honesty, it hurts more so knowing that my words are the cause of the pain and turmoil that Steve is in right now. As much as I had built up such a cold and callous exterior trying desperately to protect myself from the harshness of this world, I know deep down that internally, I’m nothing like I portray myself to be.

Once he gains his composure, Steve manages to speak through deep breaths, “Do you know what’s funny?”

His question throws me off guard, tilting my head and raising a brow, alerting him of my piqued interest.

“I’ve also tried to block out most of high school. I didn’t even recognise you today and couldn’t understand why you were acting the way you were. Which I now realize makes me sound like even more of a dickhead.” He laughs quietly, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck to relieve the tension within him. “As soon as I got home, I spent hours, staring at your pictures in the yearbook, remembering everything that we put you through. I’ve never felt more guilty about something in my life and I felt disgusted with myself that I would treat such a beautiful person as though they were anything but.”

“You’re just saying that.” I retort, not wanting to believe that he would spend so long staring at the photos of me that I hated so much. Not only that but not wanting to believe he could find such photos of me to be beautiful.

“I mean it! I was a stupid, pathetic little boy that just wanted to prove myself to the people that I thought were cool. I never thought about the effect my actions were having on people and now that high school’s over, none of that popularity shit matters.” He states, wishing that he could take back all of the cruel things he did to his peers. “None of it matters. I’m a fucking loser now. I work at an ice cream store in the mall where I have to wear a stupid sailor’s outfit, I have no college prospects, no girlfriend and I hang out with a bunch of sixteen year olds in my spare time. All that high school shit, it means nothing now.”

“You’re not a loser Steve Harrington.” I giggle, nudging his shoulder gently with my own. “You’ve just made some very poor decisions that are now biting you on the ass.”

“Hey, why aren’t you at college? If the yearbook is anything to go by you were one of the smartest people in our grade.”

I try not to feel upset by the boy’s question, knowing he means no harm. However, I also know that as much as Steve has made poor decisions, so have I. Decisions that directly affected my path to college and resulted in me working at the roller rink.

“Didn’t study those yearbooks well enough clearly.” I joke, believing that if I’m able to laugh about my situation then perhaps I won’t burst into tears yet again. “Last year I kind of gave up with school. After what happened junior year, I just didn’t see the point in trying anymore. Started skipping classes and when I was there I was too high to learn anything. My grades dropped and so did my chances at college.”

“I really fucked things up for you didn’t I?” Steve asks, tone suggesting it’s more of a statement rather than I question.

“The roller rink isn’t so bad, I mean I get to skate for free and the pay is pretty good.” 

I can tell he doesn’t quite believe me, he knows I’m bothered about not going to college, despite this, he doesn’t push me. Doesn’t force me to admit the truth. For that, I’m thankful.

Casting my gaze over the lake, the first light of the sun shines bright through the treeline. A warm amber glow, illuminating the still water beneath my feet. Birds wake from their slumber and their faint chirps echo across the lake. There’s something so peaceful within this moment and for the first time in years I feel as though a weight has been lifted from my chest. One that I was unaware had been weighing me down.

“I should probably be getting home before my parents wake up. Really don’t need to be giving my parents another reason to worry about me.” I state, steadily rising to my feet, the warmth instantly escaping my body as the sharp breeze nips at the full length of my body.

“Yeah, I should get back too, I should at least try to get some sleep before work.” Steve comments, walking in step with me along the dock.

We walk in silence, the sound of the dark oak creaking beneath our feet. A solemn cloud follows us as we head back to reality, most likely never to speak of this night again. Neither one of us wanting to reflect on the distress we shared at Lovers Lake.

“I think maybe people are right about you.” I declare upon reaching my truck, much to the shock of the boy standing opposite.

“What?” He asks, in disbelief at the confession I had just made.

“I think that maybe you are a good guy.” 

***

“Have you taken your pills today?” My mom checks, shaking the little orange pill bottle on my desk as though she can feel if it is lighter than yesterday.

“Of course I have.” I mumble, dragging my hands across my face, exhausted from the late night I had endured.

“I’m only checking sweetheart, you know I worry about you.” She wraps her arms around me from behind as she speaks, squeezing me tightly, more so for her own comfort rather than mine. “Now, your dad and I are leaving town for a few nights. He has a meeting up in Indianapolis, but if you don’t feel like you’re well enough to stay here alone with Dusty then I am more than happy to stay behind.”

“Mom, I’ll be fine, honestly.” I whine, feeling guilty that she dwells on my wellbeing so much. “I promise.”

I love my parents. I really and truly do, more than anything on this earth. Nevertheless our relationship has been somewhat strained since the events of sophomore year. My mom treats me like I’m made of glass, one wrong move and I’ll shatter into one million tiny pieces. My dad is arguably even worse, refusing to even acknowledge what took place nor speaking on the topic of my mental stability. Dustin tries his hardest to make things feel normal, but there’s only so much a sixteen year old can do to try and hold their family in place.

Not only do I feel guilty about the way I make my parents stress about me, but I also feel guilty for the way this has affected Dustin. Our parents are often so preoccupied with ensuring that I’m well and doing fine, that they often forget about their other child. Sometimes, it feels as if I’m the only person that notices Dustin’s presence. Or lack thereof, what with him spending more and more time with his friends and Steve. Frequently returning home stressed, anxious or just generally in a bad mood and in all honesty his behavior has started to concern me. Though it appears that I may have been the only one to notice.

“I need a ride to Starcourt.” As if on cue, Dustin’s head pops around my bedroom door, demanding yet another ride.

“Your manners really could use some work kid.” I tell him, to which he shrugs and I find myself grabbing my keys with less reluctance than I had the previous day.

The drive to the mall passes by a lot faster than it had on the uncomfortable journey the day before. Filled with Dustin singing at the top of his lungs to whatever cheesy pop song was playing on the radio and me secretly hoping deep down that I’ll catch a glimpse, or even better a chance to talk to Steve again. 

My former bully had somehow managed to penetrate my thoughts ever since we departed ways in the early hours of the morning. Consumed by the thoughts of where we go from here, was our emotional conversation reserved for that one night only or would we develop a casual friendship? As much as I was pretending like nothing had happened, I was itching to know how Steve was feeling.

Before I know it, I’m turning off the ignition and the boy in question is directly in my eyeline. Lazily smoking a cigarette against the side of the entrance to the mall. Presumably waiting for my little brother in order to escort him into Scoops Ahoy, so he is unable to cause any mischief on his way to the store.

Steve spots my truck almost instantly and I could be mistaken, but it certainly looks as though his eyes lock on mine straight away. I hardly register Dustin jumping out of the truck as Steve flicks the cigarette butt to the ground, strolling towards the truck and before I can stop myself I’m climbing out of my seat. Much to the surprise of my brother.

“Hi.” Steve mumbles nervously, a soft rose tint settling upon his cheeks.

“Hi.” I reply just as awkwardly, my face no doubt the same shade as his.

“Okay, this is weird. I’m just gonna-” Dustin uncomfortably points towards the main doors before hurrying off in that direction, eager to get away from whatever is happening between Steve and I.

“So about last night-”

“I want to forgive you.”

We both speak at the same time, sharing anxious smiles as neither of us dares to make the first move. Though after taking a deep breath, I find myself being the one to break the tension.

“I want to forgive you. I meant what I said, that I think you’re a good guy.” I state, timidly picking at my fingers as I try to look anywhere other than the dark haired boy. “I don’t think I’m fully there yet, I think I’ve still got some shit that I need to work through but I’d like to. You don’t deserve to be hated for the stuff you did as a kid, especially when I can see how hard you’re trying to be a better person.”

I’ve barely finished speaking when Steve’s arms are wrapped firmly around my shoulders, pulling me into a firm hug and for whatever strange reason, I hug him back. Cautiously sliding my arms around his toned waist and allowing my head to rest against his chest. Inhaling his scent deeply, an intense sandalwood with a hint of cigarette smoke and despite all of my logic within me screaming to snap out of it, I can’t resist his musk, finding myself strongly intoxicated by it.

“I swear you won’t regret it, I’m going to spend every day making it up to you for as long as I live.” Steve mutters into my hair, gently pulling away from me once he stops speaking.

“How about we start with a free ice cream and go from there?” I ask cheekily, causing him to beam cheerfully at me with a swift nod.

“I’m sure I can manage that.” He laughs, before we make our way into the mall, joining the group of kids inside Scoops Ahoy, much to Dustin’s disapproval at my presence.

Sliding into the booth besides Max, I’m acutely aware of the way the group huddles closer together, voices lowering to no louder than a whisper. Even Eddie Munson, who’s voice can usually be heard for miles, speaks in a hushed voice. 

Narrowing my eyes, I try to pick up any of the conversation, only able to hear certain words here and there. Their side of the table is scattered with papers and I’m able to make out what looks like a map of Starcourt. Although I am completely baffled, if not slightly annoyed at their secrecy, I can only assume that this has something to do with one of their Dungeons and Dragons campaigns.

“You and Harrington made up then?” Robin inquires when I join her at the counter, resting my elbows against the cool marble.

“Kind of. I don’t know, we talked for hours last night and as much as I want to hate him, I just can’t.”

Robin can sense how difficult it is for me to acknowledge my willingness to believe her friend has changed. She knows that it’ll be a long road going forward, and yet she’s unable to hide her pride. Not only at her friend for accepting the suffering he caused, but also at my openness to trust that somehow Steve isn’t such a bad guy.

“Yeah I’ve heard, he hasn’t been able to talk about anything else other than the heart to heart you two shared last night. I’m really proud of him, he’s come a long way.” Robin explains, busying herself with preparing a milkshake that she smoothly slides my way with a knowing wink. “Consider that on me, you deserve it, I’m not sure I would’ve been able to make my childhood bullies confront their own actions the same way you did. It took real guts.”

“As much as I would like to take credit, I think the weed was probably more to thank.” I disclose, taking a short sip of the strawberry treat in front of me. “I have a tendency to get real honest when I’m high.”

“Don’t I know it sweetheart.” Eddie chortles, dipping his finger into the cream atop my milkshake and licking it off dramatically.

“Ew get your own!” I groan, pulling the glass away from the metalhead as he tries to swipe some more cream.

“Where’s Harrington anyway? Those little dickheads are going over our game plan and apparently he is a pivotal part in their plan and is needed right away.” The boy asks Robin, eyes scanning the room as if Steve is hiding in one of the red leather booths.

“He’s in the back, apparently he wanted to make Y/N’s ice cream extra special.” Robin speaks, nodding her head towards the staff only door.

“What’s he gonna do? Jizz on it?” The moment the words leave his mouth, Robin and I are both groaning, disgusted by the question.

“Do you have to be so repulsive all of the time?” I ask, hearing the squeak of a door followed by rapid footsteps.

“I didn’t hear any complaints when my mouth was between your legs!”

“That’s because you can’t speak whilst you're down there!”

So caught up in our current argument, I fail to spot Steve uneasily standing at the other side of the counter. A large scoop of cherry ice cream sits in a tub before him, decorated elegantly with a large helping of sprinkles, pieces of chocolate and a singular maraschino cherry placed neatly on top.

“Is this a bad time?” He questions hesitantly, carefully observing Eddie and I, a twinge of what I can only perceive as jealousy flashes across his face. However, it disappears before I analyze it any further. 

“No, no. Not a bad time at all.” The words tumble out of my mouth with haste, Robin struggling to hide the amused expression on her face as she witnesses the tension between us.

“One scoop of cherry swirl, with all the toppings. On me, as promised.” He announces gleefully, pushing it towards me with a small plastic spoon, which I am more than happy to accept.

“Thank you.”

I delicately place the cherry between my lips, pulling it from the stem which I then twist between my fingers absentmindedly. Though, I feel the warmth rising to my cheeks as I catch sight of the three of them staring at me, eyes trained on my mouth.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone that can make eating fruit look so hot.” Eddie comments, pupils blown out causing me to grimace.

“Hey Steve! We need to go over the plan!” Lucas’ yell, alleviates the awkwardness of the current situation.

“Always the goddamn babysitter.” He mutters under his breath, offering me an apologetic glance before meandering over to the group of youths, Eddie Munson in tow.

“Now I don’t want to alarm you, especially not with how fresh your reconciliation with Steve is but I think he may have a teeny tiny crush on you.” Robin whispers, moving her head closer to mine in an effort to remain inconspicuous. 

“What? No, no, he’s just being nice is all.” I shut down her theory quickly, fixating my gaze on the melting ice cream so as not to reveal the bashfulness slapped across my face. “Anyway, what’s that all about? New campaign? I didn’t think D&D would be the sort of things you and Steve would be into.”

“I see what you’re doing and I’m just going to go along with it.” Robin says, referencing the fact that I am so obviously trying to change the subject. She turns away from, as she continues to speak, occupying herself with refilling the toppings station. “It’s just a stupid thing they’re planning, some big quest. Steve and I just kind of got roped into it I guess, but it’s not so bad.”

Her response is vague and leaves me with more questions than I previously had, not entirely believing that her and Steve could possibly be lame enough to enjoy the fictional realms of Dungeons and Dragons. I let it slide though, thankful that she didn’t push me to discuss the possibility of Steve Harrington liking me and so I return the favor. Accepting that there is a very probable, most likely embarrassing reason that they’re not telling me about their secret activities.

***

Most young people would kill for the opportunity to have an empty house. It’s the time to throw wild parties or hook up with a guy without having to sneak around or risk being caught by nose parents. Or even worse, younger siblings. Had I been a normal eighteen year old girl, there was no doubt in my mind that I would be doing exactly that.

Instead, I’m lounging on my bed, recapping the events of the past couple of days to my diary as I try to fill the deafening sound of silence with the beautiful vocals of Stevie Nicks. I’d never truly realized just how eerie and isolating our home could be without the usual noise of my family. No football game broadcast on the television, or the clattering of pots in the kitchen, not even the sound of Dustin screaming down his walkie talkie. It fills me with a sense of unease that I can’t seem to shake.

Just as I’m about to try and fill the void by running the bathtub to take a relaxing soak, I become distracted by the high pitched shrill of the phone on my bedside table. Curiosity engulfing me and I wonder who could be calling me at such a late hour. Better yet, who has got the phone number that is usually only reserved for Eddie or my parents.

“Y/N, I don’t have much time so you have to listen to me carefully!” Steve’s voice is full of panic as he hurriedly speaks down the line, my body instantly going stiff at the urgency of his tone. “I’m so sorry and I should’ve told you sooner but Dustin was adamant that he wanted to keep you out of it.”

“Out of what? What’s going on? Is Dustin okay?” 

“I can’t explain other the phone, you’d never believe me anyway, but we really need your help. Just get to the Starcourt as soon as you can, please. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.” Steve spits out, the uproar of what sounds like wind almost drowning him out. “And bring a weapon!”

With that, the line cuts off. I remain still, nostrils flared as my hands continue to hold on to the phone, knuckles white. My heart feels like it is about to burst violently out of my chest and I struggle to gain my composure with such short, rapid breaths.

“Okay, it’s gonna be okay. I’m sure it’s nothing, they probably just need a ride again.” I mumble to myself, grabbing my keys and racing down the stairs. “Yeah, that makes total sense, I mean a girl should always carry a weapon when alone at night.”

Hands trembling furiously, I stand opposite my dad’s rifle cabinet, staring at the gun through the sheer glass. Questioning whether I’m truly about to take his property. I’ve only shot a gun once, I was twelve and my dad took me hunting. It didn’t become a regular thing, my dad refusing to take me again after I burst into tears upon shooting a deer.

Despite the fear racing through my body, before I can even think about what I’m doing, I’m grabbing a vase off one of the shelves. Using all of my strength to smash it straight into the glass, thousands of miniscule shards flying everywhere. Flinching as it hits me with force, ripping open small wounds across the exposed skin of my face, neck and arms. Though I only really register the injuries on my hand, the flesh of my knuckles shredded brutally from where my hand made contact with the pane. Vase doing little to take the extent of the collision.

A shaky exhale escapes my throat, grabbing the rifle despite my second thoughts. Sticky, crimson liquid dripping against the heel of the gun, staining the burnt mahogany. 

“Sorry dad.” I speak quietly, frowning slightly upon seeing the mess of broken glass across the lounge.

In my hurry to leave, I don’t even bother to lock the doors of our house. Focusing on nothing other than getting to Starcourt as quickly as I physically can. Throwing the gun carelessly on my passenger seat, I’m in autopilot as I start the engine. My driving being much more reckless than usual, ignoring speed limits and stop signs in my race to get to the mall. 

The closer I get, the more I start to question what type of danger I am just about to get myself into. Sky above the large building an array of violet and sapphire amidst the dark black of the night. Wind whirling harshly around my truck, the closer I get. It feels reminiscent of a tornado, a ruthless storm that holds no mercy.

Arriving in the parking lot, I’m able to see a singular car parked by the entry doors. Nancy, Jonathan, Will and Lucas scurry around the vehicle, clearly in search of something and don’t seem to care at all about the volatile weather that Hawkins is experiencing.

“Hey, what’s going on? Where’s Dustin?” I shout, rifle in hand as I sprint towards the burgundy car. The group ignoring my arrival and instead climbing into the vehicle’s interior.

Squeezing myself in besides Will and Lucas, it’s only at that moment that they acknowledge me. Faces ranging from confusion, to shock, to anger. Not a single one of them displays any positive emotion at my being there.

“What are you doing here?” Jonathan asks, voice raised and tone harsh, wounding me more so than I thought possible.

“Where the fuck is Dustin?” I spit, solely caring about ensuring the safety of my baby brother. Knowing that if anything happened to him I would never forgive myself. “Where the fuck is my brother?”

‘I don’t know, okay Y/N. He’s with Erica!” Nancy yells, preoccupied with pulling open the glove compartment and rooting around urgently.

“Erica? Erica as in your ten year old sister?” I snap, attention diverted towards Lucas who stares at me with worry, afraid of how I am about to react. “What the actual fuck?”

“Look I don’t know if you’ve noticed but we’re kind of in the middle of something and you really shouldn’t be here.” Nancy tells me, finally turning herself to look at me from the passenger seat.

I’ve never seen her look so troubled, face free of makeup and stress lines prominent. She’s too young to look as agonized as she does, asserting to me that whatever is currently taking place is far beyond what I could have ever imagined. Far more threatening than anything I could dream up. 

“I think I’ve got it.” Jonathan announces, a chorus of relieved sighs escaping the group. 

“Get it started then.” Nancy pushes, watching anxiously as Jonathan begins to fiddle with the car wires, hands clammy from the stress of the current circumstances.

“Guys, we could have a problem.” Will mutters, eyes trained out of the window to the otherside of the parking lot.

A car sits ominously, headlights pointing directly towards us. Nancy and Jonathan both curse under their breath, and despite having no knowledge about what is taking place, even I can understand that this is clearly not a good sign. Even worse when the vehicle begins to drive slowly straight at us.

Unaware of my own actions and unable to stop myself, I’m rounding the car confidently. Standing right in the path of the oncoming vehicle, I raise the rifle, releasing the safety and pointing directly towards what I can assume is the driver’s seat. Struggling to see effectively against the bright beam of the headlights.

My move seems to threaten the driver, the car gaining speed and barrelling at us with no sign of stopping. Despite the fear that has overcome me since receiving Steve’s call, whilst standing in the path of immediate peril, I feel weirdly at ease. Unbothered by the potential risk of death that I am face to face with. 

“What are you doing?” I hear Nancy scream, her voice sounds as though it is miles away when I know in reality she is almost right behind me, tucked away inside the automobile.

Steadying my breath, I squint my eyes in an attempt to better my aim, before releasing the trigger. Having no time to think about the consequences of my actions nor the moral implications of shooting at a living being that formerly plagued my mind, releasing bullet after bullet as the driver steps on the gas. Accelerating at such an extreme pace that I can only fire so much before having to accept my twisted fate.

With the car only mere feet away, I drop the gun, fearing that no matter how well I shoot, there is no winning this fight. Grabbing my head, in a weak attempt to protect myself, I drop to the ground, eyes closed tightly as I prepare to face the impact. 

I’ve never been a religious person, but the only thoughts flying around my brain are prayers of protecting my family. Prayers of Dustin’s safety as he faces whatever is coming for him. Prayers that my passing is swift and painless. Prayers that this is all over quickly.

And yet, nothing comes. 

Warily, I open my eyes, removing my hands from my cautiously, only to see none other than Steve Harrington, reeling from the impact of smashing his car straight into the one headed my way. His eyes find mine and my heart stops, the look of sheer relief on his face is indescribable. 

Rising to my feet, Steve’s hurriedly climbing out of the vehicle and by my side in a second. Face bloodied and bruised, despite that, he’s solely focused on me, scanning over me intently, worriedly taking in all the minor wounds I obtained from shattering the rifle cabinet.

“What happened to your hand?” He’s asking breathlessly, my mind preoccupied with the knowledge that he just put himself in harm's way to save my life. 

I can’t find the words to say anything as I take in the sight of his swollen eye and the stains of dried blood coating the lower half of his face. My mouth opens to speak and no words seem to slip out, mesmerized by Steve’s beauty in spite of his unsightly injuries.

Blaming the adrenaline, I find myself throwing my arms around the boy’s neck, pulling him into me and squeezing tightly. His hands settle on my hips, touch firm, fearing that if he were to let go that I would simply disappear. Absentmindedly, my fingers delicately thread through the strands of dark hair at the nape of his neck. Needing to be close to him.

“You just saved my life.”

My voice is no louder than a whisper, breath hot against his neck as I nuzzle myself closer to him. Feeling safe and secure in his embrace. Desperately needing the comfort right now, even if it is coming from the most unexpected of places.

“Uh guys! We should be getting out of here! Like now!” I hear Robin shout, releasing myself from Steve’s hold to see that not only has Jonathan managed to get their car started but also that Billy Hargrove is now stumbling out of his vehicle and has his sights set on us once again.

Neither of us need to say a word, abandoning my truck in the Starcourt parking lot and speeding away from the mall and ultimately the danger that lies in wait there. 

***

The Battle of Starcourt resulted in the mall burning to the ground. Dustin and I reunited later that night at Steve’s house, the pair of them, alongside Robin, explained everything to me over a much needed pot of tea. El’s powers, demogorgons, Russian soldiers and the Mind Flayer. It was certainly a lot to take in and I could only apologize to my brother for not being there for him throughout all of this taking place. Wishing I could have helped him from the start.

It’s been a struggle adjusting to my daily life for the past couple of days. Dustin’s been staying at the Byers’ household, wanting the comfort of his friends and with a lack of parental presence in our home, the place feels cold. I can understand his decision completely, yet I can’t help but feel alone in such a big house.

I spend my nights awake, unable to sleep, and when I do manage to drift off, I’m plagued by nightmares of that car barreling towards me. My days aren’t any better. Alone with my thoughts at the roller rink, dreaming up all of the ways that the events of the night could have gone differently, most resulting in the deaths of either Dustin and I. And if I’m not at work, I lounge around my home, hopelessly trying to occupy my mind from the swirling images of Starcourt. 

Steve and I haven't spoke since that night, more so my fault than his. I’d closed myself off again, become a recluse and struggled to leave the house with the exception of work. I believed that my mind had been playing tricks on me that night when I found myself enamored by his beauty. Or that it was simply the adrenaline and the intensity of the circumstances that I needed his embrace. However, the more I think about it, the more I believe that it was a decision of the heart rather than caused by the stress of the night.

Standing outside the Harrington household, I wonder if I am making a huge mistake. I hadn’t intended to come here, only leaving my house to take a brisk walk and yet here I find myself, fist raised in preparation to knock. Though making no effort to do so. In all honesty, I think I just need to talk to somebody about what transpired and Steve is the only person that I can willingly open up to.

“Y/N?” The boy’s voice startles me, he’s standing in the doorway dressed in plaid pajama pants and a loose black sweater. The wounds on his face are still prominent, though evidently more healed than the last time I had seen him.

“I’m sorry, I was going for a walk but I guess I just instinctively came here. My house is too quiet and I just really need to talk to somebody.” I confess, staring down at my bandaged hand so as to not make eye contact with Steve.

“You walked here?” He’s shocked by my admission, not that I’m surprised. Living on the other side of town, the walk to his house is easily an hour long, if not more.

“Well my truck kind of went down with the mall.” I laugh softly, though it sounds more forced than I intended. 

“You should’ve called, I would’ve picked you up.” He tells me, voice gentle as he opens the door for me to enter his home, following me through to the lounge where we collapse onto the couch.

He has a small fire crackling away, the orange embers lighting up the room and subsequently offering a toastiness in comparison to the chilly night air.

“What’s going on? Are you?” There’s a tenderness to his voice, speaking to me the way you would speak to a timid animal so as not to frighten them. It’s sweet.

“Do you get nightmares from that night?” I ask shyly, not wanting him to view me as weak for struggling with the things that occurred.

Steve sighs, settling further into the couch as he takes his time figuring out how to say what he wants to get across. Part of him wanting to lie and pretend that everything is fine, the other part of him knowing that he should just be honest and recognize his feelings.

“Yeah.” Steve settles on the one word reply, deciding it may be the better option rather than confessing the truth as to what occurs in these nightmares.

“I haven’t been sleeping much, everytime I do, all I see is that car. Or Dustin’s lifeless body and it’s horrible. Waking up alone, hyperventilating, nobody there to tell me it’ll be okay. I don’t know how I can keep going like this.” I admit, daring to look at the boy and noticing the pained expression on his face.

“Can I be honest?” He whispers, words so quiet I almost don’t hear them. Nodding nervously, his eyes fall to his lap as he speaks. “Everytime I shut my eyes, I can only think about what would’ve happened had I not got to you in time.”

“But you did-”

“You would’ve died, you would’ve died and it would’ve been my fault because I was the one who asked you to come.” He’s crying as he talks, recounting that night and what could have been.

“Steve, you did save me. You’re the entire reason that I’m sitting here right here now. You’re a hero Steve Harrington.” I tell him, shuffling closer and taking his hands in mine. To which he brushes his fingers over my bandaged knuckles. “A very stupid, idiotic, reckless hero. But a hero nonetheless.”

“I would’ve never forgiven myself if I’d let you die. Fuck, I can’t even forgive myself for the way I treated you in school.” He states, gazing over my face and taking in the handful of miniscule cuts scattered across my cheeks from the shattering of the cabinet.

“Would it help if I told you that I forgive you?” I ask, soft smile settled upon my lips.

“Are you sure? I know I hurt you and I don’t want you to feel like you have to forgive me because of what happened and-”

“Steve, I forgive you.” I cut him off, squeezing his hands as I do so. “Not just because of what happened. I mean I’d probably be a shitty person if I didn’t forgive you when you deliberately put your own life at risk to save mine but, you’re a good person. I can see that now. You’re a really good person with a really good heart and in all honesty I think-”

My heart jumps to my throat as I realize what I’m about to confess. Questioning how I even got myself into this mess. If you told sixteen year old me that only two years later I would be sitting on the couch of my nemesis about to own up to the feelings that I may or may not have for him, she would’ve laughed in your face.

“Can I kiss you?” Steve asks softly, before I am able to finish what I’m saying, thankful that I no longer have to find the words.

“I’d really like that.”

The boy’s hand is gentle as he cups my cheek, apprehensively bringing his face to my own and brushing his lips lightly over mine. He’s cautious at first, testing out the waters to ensure that I am truly comfortable. Though, when I push myself closer, fisting his sweater in my hands, he exerts the passion that he had been holding black. Lips moving in sync with mine and bringing his free hand to caress my waist delicately. As the heat grows and any nerves wash away, he effortlessly slides his tongue into my mouth. Shy whimper escaping my mouth as he does so.

When he pulls away, I don’t miss the string of saliva that connects our lips to one another and can’t help but smile. Heart fluttering as Steve’s eyes focus on me adoringly.

“I guess all the rumors were right.” I tease as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, tilting his head slightly at my words. “You really are good at that, King Steve.”

“Oh ha ha.” He replies sarcastically, pulling me into his side and allowing me to rest my head on his chest. Listening intently to the steady beat of his heart.

“Can I stay here tonight? I can’t face another night alone.” I ask, tracing circles across his stomach, his hands stroking my hair lightly.

“I’d like that.”

Whilst I lay in the arms of Steve Harrington, I couldn’t help but feel as though things were starting to look up for me. Sure, it didn’t happen in the way that I was expecting or perhaps wanted. I certainly could have done without the monsters but right now, I finally felt at peace. Even if it was only for a little bit.

[leahssmile]

— just focus on me

pairing: lia walti x reader

summary: reader is anxious about filming a video for Arsenal, luckily your girlfriend is there to help!

notes: short wally fic, sorry if this one's a little choppy and for the awkward ending, it was written in between flares up over a few days! ♡

nevertheless I hope it's enjoyed and thank you to everyone who's interacted with my blog so far, I hope to get more writngs out for ya'll and maybe take requests soon! :)

You dreaded media day.

Not because of the busy schedule or constant moving like most people, no, you hated the cameras themselves.

Ever since you were a little kid you’ve been camera shy. Your mother often joked that she had no clear photos or videos of you, but you just couldn't help it.

The thought of being in front of a camera made your already bad anxiety spike, of messing up and it being forever captured made you almost feel sick.

It's not like you had stage fright or anything, you could get on a field in front of a crowd of thousands and play fine, it was just the cameras that made you feel bad.

At least with interviews before and after games you could wiggle your way out of them, convince a teammate that they had more to say and would be better to talk to.

But media day was mandatory for everyone, including you.

Today you had managed to participate in the required photos, done with plenty of teammates around to focus on instead of the anxiety growing in you.

But after a quick lunch break you’d been cornered by one of the media people, asked to join in on one of the silly game videos to post on the team's social media, and not really given any option besides yes.

It was just a quick trivia video, questions about who had played in however many games, who had the most goals, nothing series.

And yet as you hover a few feet from the media people as they set up the cameras, you feel the anxiety start to gnaw at your insides.

The unfounded fear of forgetting every fact about your teammates, or even more unlikely, insulting one of them by forgetting the exact number of caps they had, making you squirm as you wait for you to be called over.

You tuck yourself into a chair out of the way, too busy trying to calm yourself to notice your girlfriend, Lia, approach you. “How's it going?”

You jump when she speaks, quickly turning to look up at her, offering a badly concealed nervous grin. “Great! Just waiting to film a quick video.”

Lia knows you well enough to know that something’s bothering you, and a glance from the cameras being set up to your bouncing knee tells her what she needs to know.

Your aversion to cameras has been well known to the Swiss footballer even before you two had started dating, but she never judged you for it, it was just a part of you and she had always tried her best to comfort and reassure you the best she could.

This time isn't any different, and she takes a seat beside you, reaching over to take one of your fidgeting hands.

“What kind of video?” She knows the best way to calm you is to ask simple questions, they usually redirect your train of thought from your worry.

“Um. A trivia one? Like, ‘who has played for Arsenal the longest’ and stuff like that.” Lia nods, “You're very attentive, I think you'll do great.” She offers softly.

It's true, your attentiveness is the thing that leads to your anxiety, noticing the small details, the blinking lights, the shifts of people's expressions, they all get to your head.

But you suppose it is also helpful for the video ahead of you. Now that you think of it, you do know quite a lot about your teammates.

You let out a soft breath, “Yeah. But the cameras…” You trail, and Lia takes a moment to look around.

Her own schedule was pretty much over, having taken most of her videos and pictures earlier in the day, and she'd really just been wandering around talking to her other teammates for a bit.

She was all for staying to make you comfortable. “Look, I'll be right behind the camera, just focus on me, okay?” She points to a spot far enough to not bother any of the media people, but close enough to stay in your eyesight.

You ponder the offer briefly before finally nodding, if anything could ease your anxiety it was Lia.

“Okay, I'll give it a try.” You say and she smiles, leaning over to hug you and press a quick kiss to your cheek. “You got this.” She reminds you as you stand, the media people having turned to wait for you to come join them.

You position yourself in front of the camera, following the directions of the media person as your eyes wander over her shoulders, looking for Lia.

Your eyes finally find hers, and she offers reassuring thumbs up and a smile that you return before taking a breath and turning to the camera, giving a nod to the media person as she holds up the first card with a question written across it.

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part one

Pairings: Bucky x reader AU

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: n/a, angst???

A/N: Been sitting in my docs for awhile! Based off Invisible by Taylor Swift - I have a couple parts ready to go not sure where i wanna take this but we'll see!

Part Two

-----

The city’s rhythm feels like a heartbeat, pulsing with the lives and stories of the people who live here. And for you, it’s not the towering buildings or bustling streets that make New York feel like home. It’s the people you share it with, the friends who’ve become your family, each with their own history and quirks, all somehow meshing together into this messy, beautiful dynamic you’d never trade for anything.

It started with Bucky. You met him on the playground when you were kids, both too stubborn to share the swing set. That was years ago, but you’ve been inseparable ever since. He’s been your constant, the friend who showed up at your house with snacks when you had a bad day, and the one who stayed up with you during endless nights of stargazing and silly conversations about what the future would hold.

When junior high rolled around, Steve joined your little duo. Steve, with his easy smile and that unwavering loyalty that made it impossible not to trust him. He fit right in, like he’d been meant to be part of your lives all along. Steve became the one to balance you and Bucky out — he was the one who kept the peace during your bickering, who had a shoulder to offer when one of you needed it. Steve quickly turned the two of you into an unbreakable trio.

Then came high school, and with it, Natasha. She was a transfer student, quiet and intimidating at first, with a sharp wit that kept everyone at arm’s length. But somehow, the three of you managed to break through that exterior. By senior year, she was as much a part of the group as you, Bucky, and Steve. Natasha’s the friend who knows everyone’s secrets, who has a knack for noticing things no one else does. She’s tough and unyielding, yet she’s also the one who brings you soup when you’re sick, who stays up late to talk through your problems — even when you don’t want to admit you have them.

College came, and your little circle expanded further. That’s when you met Sam. Sam was the life of the party, someone who could make anyone laugh and always knew the right thing to say. He was the friend you went to when you needed cheering up or a reality check, someone who wasn’t afraid to call you out when you needed it. With Sam came Wanda Maximoff, quiet but kind, with a gentle presence that somehow grounded everyone. She slipped into the group as if she’d always belonged there, the one who remembers little details and checks in on everyone. Wanda’s the friend who sits with you in silence when you’re upset, offering comfort without needing words.

You love them all — each one has carved out their own space in your life and heart. But then there’s Bucky.

Bucky is different. He’s been there the longest, woven into your memories and heart in a way that’s impossible to untangle. Somewhere along the line, he went from your best friend to something more, though he never seemed to notice. Bucky is everything you love and everything that frustrates you; he’s the guy who makes everyone around him feel like they’re the only person in the room, but he’s also the one who never stays attached to anyone for long.

He’s the smooth-talking charmer who flirts with every girl in sight, the perpetual bachelor who’s never been one for serious relationships. And while that should make it easier for you to keep your feelings hidden, it doesn’t. Because every time you see him with someone else, there’s a part of you that aches, wondering if he’ll ever look at you that way.

And yet, despite all the years and all the chances you’ve had to move on, you stay. Because Bucky is more than just a friend; he’s your home. You’re his confidant, the one who knows his secrets and his struggles, the one who’s always been there. It’s a role you wouldn’t give up for anything, even if it means watching him fall for everyone but you.

So, you keep your secret, tucked away behind the laughter and the years of memories. Because as much as it hurts sometimes, you’d rather have Bucky as your friend than risk losing him altogether.

The smell of pizza fills your tiny New York apartment as Steve brings in the last box from the kitchen, setting it down on the coffee table with a grin. “Alright, who’s ready to lose at Mario Kart?”

“You mean, who’s ready to lose to me,” Natasha chimes, grabbing a slice and settling on the couch, challenging smirk in place. “You all know I’m the reigning champion.”

“Oh, that’s cute,” Sam teases, snatching the controller out of her hands with a wink. “I’m about to wipe the floor with all of you.”

You laugh, wedged into the corner of the couch beside Bucky, who’s flipping through channels like he’s in his own world. “You’ll be singing a different tune once I lap you three times,” he says, voice casual, eyes on the screen.

“Talk all you want, Barnes,” you reply, nudging his shoulder, “but you’re not gonna win tonight.”

His eyes meet yours, that lazy, amused smile you know so well. “Bring it on, doll.”

Natasha elbows you, muttering, “You two better save the banter for the race, or I’m taking both of you out first round.”

Your friends’ laughter fills the room, echoing off the narrow walls that have seen a hundred nights like this, crowded with the people you’ve come to think of as family. Wanda arrives a few minutes later, holding a tray of cupcakes she’s decorated herself. “Special edition, fall flavors,” she announces proudly, setting them down in the kitchen. “Pumpkin spice, because I know how basic you all are.”

Steve scoffs but grabs one immediately. “Did you just call me basic?”

“Take it as a compliment,” she teases, leaning into Sam, who gives her a quick side-hug. “Means you have taste.”

In the middle of this, Bucky slings his arm across the back of the couch, close enough that his hand almost brushes your shoulder. You can feel the warmth radiating off him, feel the way your pulse picks up—things he’d never notice.

“Why don’t we just skip the race and go straight to the part where we talk about how I’m a hero and you’re all my loyal sidekicks?” Bucky quips, popping open a beer and flashing a grin that could melt steel.

“Oh, please,” you scoff, trying to ignore the way your heart flutters. “In what world do you get to be the hero?”

“In my world,” he replies with a wink, leaning in closer. You catch Natasha’s look over the rim of her drink, one eyebrow raised as if to say, See what I mean?

The hours pass like they always do, a blur of laughter, arguments over who cheated and who didn’t, Wanda’s cupcakes disappearing one by one, and Steve trying to prove he can actually beat Nat, despite his track record saying otherwise. It’s only when the clock hits midnight that everyone starts to wind down.

As they get ready to leave, Natasha gives you a long look. “See you tomorrow?” she asks, her tone casual but her eyes full of something else.

You nod, managing a smile as she heads out with the others, leaving just you and Bucky to pick up the empty cans and plates. He nudges you as he gathers them up. “Another night, another victory,” he says.

“You were lucky, Barnes,” you say, rolling your eyes.

And maybe he’ll notice one day—how much it means to you that he’s here, that you’re the one left cleaning up with him every time the night winds down. But for now, he just laughs, flashing that grin of his that you can never get out of your head.

Bucky laughs, shaking his head. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re jealous of my skills.”

“Skills?” you snort, tossing a pillow his way. “All I saw tonight was a lot of luck.”

He catches the pillow mid-air, grinning. “Keep telling yourself that. Maybe one day you’ll believe it.”

There’s a lull as you both continue gathering up cups and plates, the quiet feeling comfortable, familiar. Every late night ends like this: just the two of you, unwinding after hours of laughter and chaos. You’re stacking plates by the sink when he leans back against the counter, crossing his arms with that easy, relaxed posture he gets when it’s just the two of you.

“So, what do you think of Kate?” he asks, out of nowhere.

You freeze, not quite sure how to answer. She’s… fine. In fact, she’s more than fine. She’s exactly the kind of person who should be with Bucky—smart, confident, and with a wit sharp enough to keep up with him.

“She seemed nice,” you manage, “I only met her the one time near the end of summer break” avoiding his gaze. “Why?”

He shrugs, scratching the back of his neck, a little sheepish. “I dunno. We’ve been talking a bit, and she’s… I don’t know, different.”

Different. The word sits heavy in your stomach, weighted with the implication. You force a smile, willing yourself not to overthink it. “Different’s good, right?”

“Yeah, it is.” He nods, looking thoughtful in a way that makes your heart sink, because this—this is new. You’ve watched him brush off a hundred girls, seen him roll his eyes at the idea of commitment more times than you can count. But he’s not brushing Kate off, and that terrifies you.

“Well,” you say, keeping your tone light, “if you’re planning to bring her around, at least let me so I can order extra pizza because 3 large pizza’s arent enought with Steve around”

Bucky chuckles, ruffling your hair in that infuriatingly casual way he’s always done. “You’re the best doll, you know that?”

The words are simple, playful, but they pierce all the same, a reminder of just how invisible you are to him in that way. “Yeah,” you say, a little quieter, “I know.”

[slttygeto]

MORE THAN THAT— LO’AK SULLY.

pairing: x fem! reader.

tags: childhood friends to lovers, a little bit of angst towards the middle, insecure lo’ak, reader is mad at him, lack of communication because i love pain, they’re both 18 during the second half! a little suggestive towards the end, this is a long one btw :].

word count: 7k (my longest fic!!!)

note: ive been writing this for about a month (on and off obviously) and i thought i might share it now that i finally decided where to end it (?), it’s not entirely proof-read, my amazing best friend @aurelianamu (check her neteyam piece its amazing) read some of it and told me what to fix, so the rest will be corrected along the way. thank you for reading!

dividers by: @firefly-graphics

You are ten when you first meet the Sully’s, family of Toruk and Palulukan Makto.

Being the newest friend of Kiri, the second oldest didn’t hesitate to introduce you to her family, proud of the fact that she managed to make a friend so easily. You were shy, closed off and unsure of how to behave in the presence of the man that your parents told you many stories about. Your little child brain was curious to know as to how he behaved with his family, if he would be nice to you or strict and harsh, even if he had no reason to show anything besides kindness to his daughter’s newest friend.

“She is the same age as Lo’ak,” Kiri exclaimed with lots of excitement, holding your hand tightly while standing in front of her parents.

“Is that so?” Kiri’s mother, Neytiri, spoke with a gentle tone, smile adorning her lips which was unusual since she always seemed to be sporting a serious look on her face around The People.

“Who is the same age as me?” A voice spoke from behind you and suddenly, you were very aware of the fact that Kiri had more siblings than you—in fact, you had none. So you jumped slightly, a little surprised by the proximity of the boy.

“(Name), my friend!” Kiri’s excitement while introducing you warmed your heart but it also made you hyperaware of the looks you were receiving even if they weren’t malicious.

“Your friend?” Lo’ak stated in question, eyes scanning your face before puffing his chest out proudly like a peacock. “I bet being my friend would be more fun!”

Now, you weren’t expecting that. Kiri let go of your hand to push her brother back, almost telling him off at his attempt at stealing you away from her and you could only watch in horror as the bickering turned into hair pulling.

“Hi, I’m Neteyam.” Neteyam’s voice was soft and gentle, very similar to his mother’s and it made you relax for a moment before you realized you had to introduce yourself as well. Yet before you could speak, he was cutting you off with a nod. “(Name), I heard Kiri introduce you.”

You nodded back at him, eyes falling on the scene unraveling before you; Lo’ak and Kiri being scolded heavily by Toruk Makto himself, his eyes warning them that if they tried to say one more word, they would get grounded for a whole month.

“Ma Jake, be nice. We have a guest.” Neytiri tried to console.

“Exactly, so they should learn how to behave,” Jake Sully grabbed his kids and made them stand in front of you. “It’s up to her if she wants to befriend either of you, okay?”

“But dad! I found her first!” Kiri’s bottom lip quivered and you stepped towards her with a look of concern.

“Kiri, you’re my friend.” Lo’ak huffed at this, head dramatically turning to the side making his hair move with him. “Lo’ak can also be my friend.” Said boy’s ears perked up at this, face slowly turning to face you while scanning for any possible clues that you were just kidding.

Jake smiled at this, hand resting on top of your head before ruffling your hair. “Yeah? You wouldn’t mind befriending this knucklehead?”

“Knucklehead?” Your confusion only added to the fun of it and Jake chuckled before standing up straight.

“It means he needs someone to look out for him at all times.”

“Dad!” Lo’ak whined at the statement yet you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips.

“Friends look out for each other, right?” Your question earned a nod of approval from Toruk Makto and that was all you needed before stepping forward, firmly holding Lo’ak’s hand in your own.

“Lo’ak and I are friends then.” The youngest boy stared at you in awe, feeling the tips of his ears warm up at the sincerity of your voice.

“Friends.”

You are twelve when you learn what a pinky promise is.

You loved hanging out with Kiri, yet she and the rest of her family couldn’t deny the obvious chemistry between you and Lo’ak.

Despite the youngster’s stubborn personality and disobedient nature, he became more tolerable around you. That didn’t mean that he stopped from causing trouble, but he was seen around you sharing toys, passing you bits of food that was handed to him by his mother and even went as far as to to grab a giant leaf from a tree to cover you when you curled yourself into a ball to sleep.

The same could be said about you, yet your personality was never a problem in the first place. Kiri knew you as the kind hearted young na’vi that you presented yourself to be and you didn’t change around any of her family members. Although, she was able to notice the way you let things slide for the sake of being close to Lo’ak, such as letting him near your personal space, allowing him to touch your hair and look at the beads while proudly showing off your mother’s choice of colors and even letting him redo one of your braids as you two sat in silence.

Kiri wanted to feel jealous of this, she did befriend you first but she couldn’t help but let her heart feel at ease. Her brother and closest friend got along and it was worth more than anything in the world.

“Lo’ak, aren’t all sky people bad?” you were currently in the middle of your play session with the young na’vi, and the latter halted his actions at your words to stare at you with furrowed eyebrows. He noticed your stare, how it lingered on Spider, their human companion for as long as they could remember, before returning his eyes back on you.

“My dad was once a sky person, he isn’t bad at all.”

“Your dad is Toruk Makto!” you exclaimed almost in disbelief at the fact that Lo’ak was insinuating that you were even thinking of lumping his dad with those terrible people who had once destroyed your home.

“I’m just saying, if my dad is nice and he once was a sky person, then it means there’s a chance good sky people exist.” Lo’ak answered with a shrug. He trusted easily, that was something you envied him for. You couldn’t shake off the uneasy feeling whenever you stared at Spider and a part of you felt bad that your brain didn’t allow you to relax in the presence of a boy who had done nothing to you, his only crime was to belong to a race that caused you great pain and suffering.

“It could be true…” Your friend was able to sense your anxiety just by looking at your body shrink in its spot, your arms hugging your knees closer to your chest before resting your head there. He might’ve not been the softest out of his siblings, but he knew that you needed comforting ; any kind that is.

“Hey listen,” Lo’ak put his toy down next to you before leaning down to your level with his pinky finger up. “I promise that I won’t ever let sky people do anything to you, okay? Pinky promise.”

Despite the feeling of warmth that you felt at his words, the obvious confusion on your face was a telltale sign that you didn’t know what a pinky promise was.

“Pinky… promise?” your voice came out soft, hesitant as you mirrored lo’ak’s actions and the moment he hooked both of your pinkies together, you felt your heart strings tug in your chest.

“Yes. A promise that is never meant to be broken.”

At your silence, Lo’ak realized that you had been staring at his hand. Hard.

Upon figuring out what was so fascinating about his hand that it silenced you, he immediately tried to pull it back on his lap, regretting a little the fact that he got too comfortable showing you his hand, his filthy demon hand.

“No,” you started with a stern look, grabbing his hand to pull back next to your face and held his pinky finger up with much concentration on your face.

“I don’t judge, I like your hands,” you hooked your pinky finger once again with his and Lo’ak wasn’t able to shake off the funny feeling in his chest, how his heart leapt as he nervously gulped down the lump in his throat.

“Pinky promise?” His voice came out as a whisper, almost in disbelief that you were accepting of who he was and who he came from. he did believe that his father was the exception to use as an example to justify good sky people existing.

“Pinky promise.”

Fourteen and fifteen were an easy age, you got along most of the time and everyone was scared when the both of you teamed up against them. Yet sixteen and seventeen had proven to you that you were both strong minded and that made you butt heads often, only in harmless ways.

You two are eighteen you realize that the bickering and butting heads was just a love language of yours, that your disagreements would never take away from how much you cared for each other.

“You have got to be one knucklehead to do something like that!” You hiss at the boy who could only stare back at you with an equally murderous glare, clearly disliking the vocabulary you were using.

“I am no knucklehead if I just wanted to have fun.” He hissed in return, and it quickly turned into a groan when your hands tugged harshly at the bandage circling his arm, sending him a warning that you weren’t going to let it slide easily just because he was wounded.

“Fun on the war zone? I didn’t know that playing with your life is the newest form of entertainment.” His family watched in absolute entertainment as you two bickered back and forth. The argument kept shifting from humorous to serious and they didn’t know where to stand.

On the outside, it seemed as though you disliked one another, yet this was just another day for the Sullys where you and Lo’ak bickered so much, they had to get you two separated to make it stop.

“Shit- stop! that hurts!” he almost wailed, leaning back against the tree when you applied the ointment to the cut on his face and given the expression of disapproval you had on yours, Lo’ak could only mutter under his breath as he fixed his posture.

“Man, am I not allowed to complain now?”

“Lo’ak,” you started, and he could immediately sense your change in demeanor by how visibly deflated you looked.

“I’m okay,” He cut you off with a firm stare, but his hand held a warmth to it, a gentle reminder that he could never be mean to you for a long time as he rested his palm on top of your hand. “Really, it was just one reckless moment that is all.”

“You’ve been saying this for— Eywa knows how long, Lo’ak, it’s serious. You need to watch out.”

“You don’t trust me?” With his tone, you could tell he was genuinely curious to know what you felt about him as a warrior and his heart was ready to shatter into pieces, waiting for the usual answer that was chanted like a mantra by his father.

“I mean, I’m not as strong or as cool as big brother Neteyam, but I can be helpful on the field and–“

“Lo’ak, I trust you.” You were never one to lie, especially not when you let your eyes fall on his. Flashing him a small smile, your fingers applied the ointment on the rest of the cuts on his face in a much more delicate manner, taking in how his tail was swaying from side to side at your comment.

“Someone is a little happy,” you teased, hands gathering all the medical stuff that his grandmother had given you to put them back in their spot.

“I will push you off my Ikran next time we go on a ride.” the glare on his face was playful and you couldn’t help but pat his head affectionately.

“I can always call for my own Ikran you idiot.” He wasn’t even able to push you away when you leaned down with your pinky up to his face.

“Pinky promise, by the way,”

“Pinky promise?” You didn’t let him stay confused for long before grabbing his wrist to intertwine your pinky fingers together.

“That I trust you. With all of my heart.” and with that, you took off with your tail swaying softly from side to side.

Lo’ak observed you for some time after you left, ignoring how his face still stung a little from you tending to his small wounds. Sighing in exhaustion, he ignored the looks he was getting from Kiri who sat only a couple of steps away from him.

“Shut up.” He turned his head away when he saw his sister approach him with a teasing grin, ready to tell her off for the umpteenth time the same week for teasing him about the usual topic.

“I haven’t even said anything,” Kiri plopped herself next to her brother, immediately taking notice of how Lo’ak was able to see you every move from his spot.

“I know what you will say and you’re wrong.”

“So you’re just going to keep denying the obvious heart eyes you have for my best friend?” The girl na’vi raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

“I don’t have heart eyes for my best friend too, if you haven’t forgotten yet, I would never do anything to ruin the friendship.” To say that Lo’ak was an idiot was an understatement.

Kiri had told him that a crush would never ruin the friendship but Lo’ak saw it differently. You were a comfort he never thought he could have in a person beside family, a safe space for him to runaway to whenever things got too stressful with his father, Jake, and most importantly you were a best friend, a ride or die and someone who cared about him too much for him to risk watching everything fall apart.

His heart squeezed at the white lie he told his sister, another moment of denial where he forcefully swallowed down any possible trace of romantic feelings for his best friend and Kiri sighed in defeat, having already given up on the topic for the day.

“If you say so, don’t be disappointed if she finds someone else.” She stood up from her spot on the tree, looking down at her brother who visibly flinched at the mention of you possibly finding a mate, a lifelong partner and someone who would proudly show you off before Eywa.

“I would be happy for her,” Lo’ak almost bit his tongue at his attempt to fool his own heart, to halt it from hammering so strongly against his chest and stop himself from feeling so upset at the thought.

“Brother, you’re a fool.” Was all what Kiri said before walking away towards you and starting a casual conversation as usual, asking you if you wanted to go on a ride on your Ikrans after making sure every warrior was safe and taken care of.

And Lo’ak could only watch with a tight jaw, flexing his hand in an attempt to stop himself from possibly punching himself in the face.

Maybe Jake was right, he was a disappointment. Someone who isn’t even able to maintain a proper friendship without falling hard for his best friend, and the uncertainty of keeping things strictly platonic with you was eating him up alive. He hoped that Eywa would make his worries go away, and perhaps find a solution to the mess he had created inside his head.

Eywa didn’t take long before answering his prayers, but it came with a cost.

Longing stares and hours of talking to one another way past curfew after sneaking out turned into cold shoulders and short conversations. The effort was barely there and you could tell Lo’ak didn’t even want to acknowledge your existence whenever you came around and it hurt, it pained you that you didn’t even know what you had done wrong to suddenly lose a person whom you held so dear to your heart.

Your lip quivered as you stared at the plate of fruits you had freshly cut up for Lo’ak, tears threatening to spill from your eyes when you remember how he harshly rejected your offer at spending time together.

“I have a meeting with my father. Later.”

“But Lo’ak we haven’t–“

“Don’t be so clingy, I said later. Go find someone else to eat the fruits with.”

Clingy? Someone else?

You didn’t want to eat them with anyone beside him. Having him call you clingy when he used to get excited to spend time with you, saved you the last bits of his food and would talk your ear off about his schedule, it was all confusing. You didn’t know what you had done wrong and if you were even able to fix it given how it was painfully obvious that you were the source of the miscommunication going on.

It felt like Eywa wasn’t on your side the past few weeks, and your heart squeezed in disappointment at how your strong faith was being questioned by such tough times. You never doubted your deity, believed that everything happens for a reason but what could possibly come out of being so abruptly separated from Lo’ak?

You headed back to your hammock and set the plate aside to grab your pen and paper. When everything felt like it was falling apart, writing seemed to be the safest option. You found comfort in spilling your worries to a sheet of paper and weren’t ashamed of it, in fact, you were praised greatly for it by Kiri who had told you that her mother would’ve definitely developed an interest to you and your ways of distressing.

Oh Eywa has it been difficult to breathe as of late. Lo’ak hates me, that I am sure of. I have been nothing but a good friend to him and I’m confused and heartbroken, I don’t know what to do Eywa and I want to talk to him, to ask him what caused to hate me so strongly. Maybe it’s my strong love for him? Have I pushed it too far?

To be truthful, you had been in a state of denial for quite some time now. You were a friend to Lo’ak, a companion and a person who was always by his side but your heart craved more.

It was the way your heart leapt whenever Lo’ak came around, throbbing when he sat next to you, leaving no space between the both of you. How your body tensed when he would place his hands on your shoulders and he would stare at you with concerned eyes, wondering if he had smacked your skin a bit too hard.

But you knew it was wrong. It was unacceptable for you to feel this way for your best friend, even more horrible to crave him in ways only two people who are mated want one another.

You felt rustling behind you and jumped at the noise, head whipping back with fearful eyes only to relax once you realized that it was just Neteyam.

You had grown to enjoy the boy’s company over the years and he was nothing but nice to you. The two of you had short yet sweet conversations and you could tell that Neteyam saw you as a sister, someone who belonged in the family more than anyone else.

“Thought you had a meeting with Mr. Sully?” your voice was small as you scribbled on your paper, lips pressed in a thin line and posture slouched as you leaned against the tree.

“Fix your posture, you’ll feel like you’re eighty when you’re twenty.” Neteyam tried to brighten up the mood, only to realize that it poor timing since you only flashed him a weak smile before giving a half assed attempt at sitting up properly.

“So no meeting, he just didn’t want to see me?” The boy flinched at your words and he wished you didn’t notice, but you were smart and you had a sharp eye. Things like body language and little white lies didn’t go unnoticed by you and yet Neteyam was confused on how you weren’t able to see through Lo’ak’s poor attempt at pushing you away because of how much he wanted you.

“He’s an idiot, but I promise you that–“

“Don’t…Don’t promise me something that might not happen,” you cut him off with a sharp intake of breath, your chest tightening and tears threatening to spill at any moment. You were growing tired of everyone reassuring you with words, only for Lo’ak to shatter any hope you’ve had that you two would make up from the nonexistent fight that you had.

“He thinks what he’s doing is the right thing, but it isn’t,” The eldest of the Sullys took it upon himself to wipe your tears away, thumbs caressing your cheeks in a delicate manner. “He is an idiot, but I want you to know that it’s paining him just as much,“

You scoffed at the words but never pulled away from the boy’s touch. “It pains him just as much? He’s the one who started it.”

“I know but–“

“Teyam,” your hand wraps around his wrist, and you gently pull it away from your face before holding his hand in your own. “It’s alright, I know you want to defend your brother and you have every right to do so but he hurt me, he’s causing me so much pain from a situation he created,”

“I’m not asking you to pick sides, but I’m also not going to let my pain get invalidated. I’m the one hurting here because he woke up on the wrong side of his hammock three weeks ago and decided not to utter a single word my way ever since.”

Neteyam could only sigh at your words. You were right, the situation was much more complicated than a simple disagreement between you two. Had you known the full story behind what was going on inside Lo’ak’s brain, maybe then it would feel fair to tell you that the boy was also in pain.

“Just do what feels less painful to you.” As if that was going to be easy, but the more you interacted with Lo’ak, the tighter your chest felt. You needed a break from the boy even if you knew that seeing him was enough to reassure you that he was doing okay.

This was the longest Lo’ak had ever sulked in a corner and everyone was starting to grow tired of it.

The boy was almost lifeless, barely engaging in any conversation with his family members. He ignored Tuk’s nagging and consistent request to play with her, brushed off Neteyam’s suggestion to go on a ride with their Ikrans and wouldn’t even talk back to Kiri and Spider.

He was unrecognizable to say the least.

Neytiri nudged her husband with a concerned look on her face, eyes silently begging him to do something about the boy who went from being the loudest to the most reserved.

Jake could only awkwardly shuffle in his spot before coughing to catch his children’s attention. Talking to his sons wasn’t his virtue, it felt easier to console his little girls but given how strange Lo’ak had been acting, it was finally time to have a heart to heart with his son.

“Son, let’s ride our Ikrans after dinner.”

Lo’ak didn’t even raise his head at the sentence, simply thinking that Jake wasn’t referring to him. It wasn’t until the silence had felt too long that Jake called again, this time making sure that he heard him.

“Son? Lo’ak?” said boy raised his head with a perplexed look, and Jake noticed how his food was basically untouched.

“Yes sir?”

“We’re riding our Ikrans after dinner.” Jake repeated, setting his plate to the side before nodding at Neytiri as a way of thanking her for the food.

“We?” the boy looked at his brother, unsure if he was hearing his father correctly.

“You and I, son.” Lo’ak grew nervous at this. He and his father weren’t on best terms most of the time given how their personalities clashed with one another, but he thought that giving it a try wouldn’t hurt anybody.

“Okay dad.”

After a poor attempt at finishing his food, Lo’ak finally decided to join his dad after hopping on his Ikran. He wasn’t entirely sure of what his father wanted to talk about but he hoped that it wouldn’t cause the two of them to start fighting as usual.

“You closed off on yourself,” Jake didn’t bother with trying to ease Lo’ak into the topic, he immediately pushed him inside. He could tell he caught his son off guard given the wide eyes and how his lips struggled to find the right words to say.

“And you’re not only hurting yourself but you’re also hurting people around you,” Jake wanted to see how far he could push his son before making him admit his obvious feelings for you, the one girl he and Neytiri were very sure that she was going to be their son’s future mate.

“I don’t have that many friends,” Lo’ak’s sarcasm could be sensed from miles away and Jake held back a sigh at how similar he and his son were. He hated that sometimes. seeing in his son a version of himself he was ready to bury.

“I’m glad that you’re acknowledging that (name) isn’t just a friend.” The eldest pushed his son a little further and he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips at how nervous and awkward his son got.

“She is just a friend…”

“We’re definitely different when it comes to this,” Lo’ak raised his head at his father’s words, unsure of where he was going with this.

“I married your mom not long after I met her, didn’t have time for all this being in denial bullshit,”

“Mom wasn’t a childhood friend.”

“Yet I think if she was a childhood friend, it would’ve made me want to marry her even more.”

The beauty of growing up together, getting to tell the next generation that you’ve known who your soulmate was at a very young age is a privilege not a lot of people have, not when most Na’vi have their mates chosen for them. And Lo’ak was very much aware of that and yet he couldn’t help but think that no one would choose him, not when he was so… like himself.

“I just think…she can do better,” Sharing his biggest insecurity was challenging enough as it was, but doing so with his father felt rough on his heart strings. Lo’ak’s throat tightened up and suddenly he became hyperaware of his fast heartbeat and sweaty palms, wishing that he had chosen something else to say to save him from the discomfort he was feeling.

“Is that truly up to you to decide?” The boy blinked once then twice, trying to register the fact that pouring his heart out was easier than he anticipated. He couldn’t bring himself to formulate a sentence for a good ten seconds before he was looking away from Jake, the latter’s words finally getting to his head.

“Does it even matter if I let her decide?”

“Would you have wanted her to let you feel the same if roles were reversed?”

“Roles could never be reversed cause she isn’t a freak like me,” Lo’ak almost snapped back in response and he visibly tensed at how defensive he was getting.

“So you think she deserves better than some five fingered freak like yourself?” Jake was blunt as he responded, eyes boring into his son’s who could only nod in response, not catching onto the sarcasm lacing in his words.

“Seems like you don’t know her as well as you claim to do.” Jake dipped down with his Ikran and Lo’ak followed shortly after with his own companion, eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the words coming out of his father’s mouth.

“Of course I do know her, she’s my best friend and I’m sure that she—“

“The reason why you like her so much is because she never cared about stuff like this. It’s been this way ever since you were a child, son.” Toruk Makto was now face to face with his son as their Ikrans came to a stop mid air. “For you to make her go through so much pain because you suddenly decided that she wanted to change her ways and morals is unfair in my opinion, both for her and yourself.”

“But to ruin the friendship—“

“Again, those are only assumptions you have made based off of pretty weak evidence—made up one since you didn’t even question her on whom has her attention or better yet, her heart.”

The picture was slowly coming together to Lo’ak now and the clearer it got, the more he realized just how badly he fucked up.

Three agonizing weeks of ignoring you, stopping himself from joining a conversation you were in and suspending any attempt you had thrown his way to hang out together, catch up and possibly ask him what was so wrong that he refused to talk to you.

Sure, it pained him so much but he knew how sensitive you were. In fact, he could tell from your big yellow eyes how deeply hurt you were everytime he rejected you, and Eywa, did it make his heart squeeze, almost shatter at the sight of tears brimming your vision.

Lo’ak knew he fucked up, and he could only pray to Eywa that he would be able to fix what could possibly cost him a friendship and perhaps his childhood sweetheart.

You had every right to be ignoring Lo’ak right now. That, he is totally aware of, and even knew that it was exactly what he deserved after ghosting you for no apparent reason.

But at this point, you were just torturing him.

Tonight, the Omaticaya decided that it was time to hold their weekly party at the end of the week, distressing and letting loose after a long week of hard work.

Those parties were fun, they were what everyone needed—what you needed most importantly and you weren’t going to deny it, you were looking forward to it even if it meant having to encounter Lo’ak since he was Toruk Makto’s son.

Things had started pretty well with everyone chatting and discussing thing such as how great of a leader Toruk Makto was, how they haven’t felt this safe in quite some time and that everything being under his control was something to be proud of as forest Na’vi.

And while Jake and Neytiri soaked in all the attention, the kids were doing their thing. Mostly chatting with their friends or in some cases, stalking some.

Lo’ak was aware of how creepy he looked just staring at you with an unwavering gaze but he was determined to have you lock eyes with him. If he wasn’t going to approach you, getting to see your eyes for the first time in a while would mean the world to him.

“You’re looking a bit menacing, brother.” Neteyam placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder, staring in your direction as well with a small smile on his lips.

“Huh? Well, I guess it’s not menacing enough to have her look my way.” Lo’ak mumbled under his breath, earning a lighthearted chuckle from Neteyam who could only pat his shoulder before squeezing it.

“You don’t want to look menacing or creepy, you want to look apologetic.” Lo’ak glanced at Neteyam after hearing those words and he knew how right his brother was but how? how was he supposed to look more apologetic than he already feels?

“Just walk up to her and see what happens.” Yeah, easier said than done.

“I will tell you what will happen. I will go up there and make a fool of myself because one, I don’t really know what to tell her and two, she will ignore me either way and I absolutely deserve it after treating her like shit because of something she’s not even responsible of,”

Lo’ak was frustrated but he couldn’t exactly do anything about it or even let himself feel this frustration without guilt washing over him.

It must’ve been horrible for you. But enough of feeling bad for you, he knew that despite what could possibly happen, he still had to confront you one way or another.

“Good luck,” was all what Neteyam said before walking away to let his younger brother decide on what he was going to do.

Luck

“Shit, I’ll need plenty of that.” Lo’ak mumbled before heading towards you through the crowd.

You could see Lo’ak and Neteyam from the corner of your eyes, you weren’t blind or clueless. You knew the two were talking about you just based on their body language. How unsure Lo’ak seemed and how playful the older brother was being and despite the fact that you thought it was endearing, you were still very mad at Lo’ak, and rightfully so.

It took them a couple of minutes to finish their conversation before Lo’ak was walking towards you and in a state of panic, you let go of whatever was in your hand and started heading out of the crowd, to a more secluded area. Anything to get away from Lo’ak as soon as possible.

You didn’t dare to look back, footsteps fast and unfaltering as you walked deeper into the forest with Lo’ak right behind you. Maybe if you didn’t perceive him, he would magically disappear.

“If anything, you know I’m the fastest runner between you and I,” his voice was uncertain, as if he was testing waters while still half-chasing you and you completely ignored his words, very determined on getting him to get off your tail.

“Going deeper into the woods won’t make me lose sight of you,”

“Did your tail get prettier?” was he staring at your tail?

Lo’ak was taken aback when you abruptly came to a stop and whipped your head fast to look at him and he wishes he could take back every bad thing he’s done to you, he wishes he could undo the past few weeks but he can’t, and he certainly can’t erase the pain in your eyes, how utterly confused and broken you must be feeling now that he’s suddenly trying to talk to you again.

“Listen-“

“No, no- you will listen. Because clearly that’s not what you wanted to do for like a month.” Your index finger was almost in his face but he didn’t back away or flinch, he let you be as mad as you wanted to be.

“I didn’t do anything to deserve what you did to me. I was a good friend! I was patient and forgiving, I kept finding stupid excuses for your lame ass while you didn’t even try to hide the fact that you were openly ignoring me for whatever reason!”

Lo’ak could tell you weren’t breathing properly while talking, and he wanted to hold your face and get you to calm down but touching you seemed off the table right now.

“And you come back and tell me my tail looks prettier?”

“I was just-“

“I’m still talking.” Your stern voice made him seal his lips shut, but he couldn’t help how his heart leapt a little in his chest. He had to fight the smile that was forming on his lips because he really didn’t want you to think he wasn’t taking you seriously.

“I appreciate you telling me my tail looks prettier but that does not and will never compensate for how shitty you made me feel lately.” Your voice was less harsh and smaller. He could tell you were slowly letting the tough façade fall apart because you weren’t used to getting hurt this badly. It drained you so much having him hurt you like this, and it made Lo’ak drown deeper in the guilt.

“I know it won’t, but I promise it hurt me just as much.”

“Then why did you do it?” Eywa, he wishes he could tell you.

“I can’t tell you.”

“Then we cant be friends again.” Your response was quick and dry. Lo’ak felt like he was quickly losing you the more he spoke and that absolutely terrified him.

“No, you don’t get it. If I tell you, I will lose you.”

“Is there anything to lose at this point?” Lo’ak was starting to realize how badly he fucked up the moment you said this.

“Wha- of course there is?” He furrowed his eyebrows as he stared down at you and for the first time, you weren’t glaring at him. Your eyes were slowly filling up with tears, breathing getting quicker by the second.

Lo’ak reached his hands towards your face to test the waters and when you didn’t flinch or pull away, just kept your eyes locked with his, he knew just how badly you needed to be held.

“Oh I’m so terrible, aren’t I?” He almost cooed at you, hands holding your face with his thumbs caressing your cheeks and your little nod before blinking some tears away.

“So… so terrible.” you nuzzled against his hand, a hiccup escaping your lips as you held back a sob.

“Eywa,” Lo’ak whispered, stepping a little closer to you so he could rest his forehead against yours. “You mean so much to me and it’s… terrifying.”

Your confusion only pushed him to continue, his nose brushing against yours and suddenly you were aware of how close—how intimate the position you were in. But you didn’t mind, your heart was racing yet you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away this time.

“If I mean so much to you, why hurt me?” your voice was small, almost too afraid to speak louder and ruin the moment.

“I thought hurting you would get you to hate me,” Lo’ak swallowed hard, eyes focused on your lips before staring right back at yours once again. “and you would realize that you deserve someone better than me.”

“And you think you have the right to choose for me?” your hands slowly moved up towards his shoulders and at first, he thought you were going to push him away. It wasn’t until he felt you press your body closer before wrapping your arms around his neck that he realized that you were doing the complete opposite.

“I chose you—Eywa chose you for me, and she is never wrong.” And you were right. As if your skin glowing in the dark wasn’t already beautiful, the forest decided to bless your moment even further.

Seeds of the sacred tree were floating all around you both, the pure spirits giving Lo’ak the reassurance and the tiny push he needed to finally close the distance between you two.

Your breath hitched when you felt his lips brush against yours, but you were growing impatient with the small amount of hesitance left in him.

“Promise me that you won’t hurt me again,” your words were hushed, breath quickening when you felt him pull you in closer by your hips.

“I promise.” the stars illuminated the sky and the night was threatening to get colder. But when Lo’ak was pulling you impossibly closer, your cheeks flushed with heat. His fingers traced the skin on your hipbone before digging in harshly, your sharp intake of breath making his eyes wander down to your lips once again.

“It’s unfair…“ your whisper caught him off guard and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion before they rose high when your hands slid down to caress his arms, gently moving towards his chest to rest your hands there. You looked up at him through your lashes, and if Lo’ak wasn’t aware of his feelings for you, he would think you were trying to make him fall deeper in love with every bit of you.

“What is unfair?”

“That you’re taking so long to kiss me,” your hands gently grabbed his face, holding his jaw to tilt his head down towards you. “I see you, Lo’ak.”

You didn’t need for him to say it in return—he wasn’t exactly able to with his lips pressed against yours in dizzying manner. You never thought you could grow more nervous around Lo’ak yet he seemed to have a knack for surprising you everytime, especially with his hands gripping the back of your thighs to pull you up and wrap your legs around his waist.

“I see—I see you too,” when he pulled away, panting from the kiss and eyes glazed with what appeared to be a mixture of lust and admiration, you could only squeeze your legs around his waist with a small smile.

“Already so out of breath?” your lips brushed against his nose in an endearing manner, fingers tracing his cheek to take in every little detail that made him who he is—yours.

“You dont know what you do to me,” he slowly backed you up against a tree, your cheeks flushing when you realized just how intimate the position you were in.

“Maybe I would like to find out,” Your teasing, your playful tone and your eyes that were clearly so lost in his, were constant reminders of how special he felt around you.

He, who had the honor of being your one and only, could only pray that Eywa approved of his love and devotion for you.

2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Synopsis: Tabito Karasu has been in love with you for almost as long as he can remember. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like you have any intentions of reciprocating, considering you’ve only ever seen him as a child — and, more importantly, as your best friend’s little brother.

BLLK Masterlist | Part One | Otoya Version

Pairing: Karasu x Reader

Total Word Count: 41.6k

Content Warnings: reader is older than karasu (by like two years so it’s nbd but it exists), no blue lock au, bratty baby karasu, jealous karasu, slow burn, childhood friends, i have no idea how to write kids just deal w it, karasu’s older sister is given a name (look at that word count LMAO i’m not calling her ‘karasu’s older sister’ the entire time), reader gets drunk at one point, karasu the goat of pining, yukimiya and otoya mentions ⁉️

A/N: yes this is inspired by the song “best friend’s brother” from victorious but has barely anything to do with it. yes this is probably the longest karasu fic you will ever read as of its publishing date (word count is not a typo it fr is that long). yes reader and karasu are fuck ass little kids for half of the fic. i have nothing to say for myself except that i love karasu so much and i cannot be stopped…also tumblr is an opp so i had to split this into two parts EEK i’m sorry!!

Tokyo was exactly as you remembered it. Both of your parents had been raised there, and so you had visited frequently when you were younger. You had fond memories of staying there with both sets of your grandparents before they had all, in turn, decided to move to calmer parts of the country, places which were not as frenetic and vibrant as the capital. After they had left, your family had had little reason to go back, so it had been some years since you had last made the trip, but in a way this move was just another kind of homecoming, for the chaos of the massive city was as familiar to you as the peace of your neighborhood.

“Everyone here talks like your parents,” Yayoi told you, the first day you both were able to meet up after you had moved. Your classes had not yet begun, but you were both finally unpacked and oriented in your new lives, so you had taken advantage of the last bits of free time you might have for a while to see one another. “It’s kind of funny.”

“Right?” you said. You had never fully adopted the accent of your home region, for you had been raised by a family which still spoke as if they were in Tokyo, but regardless it was strange to hear people other than your parents speaking in that way without affectation.

“Sometimes I end up saying the wrong thing and confusing people, but they figure out pretty quickly that it’s just the dialect I speak with, and then they ask for clarification if needed,” she said. “So I haven’t run into any major miscommunication problems yet, thankfully.”

“That’s good,” you said. “Are you excited to start classes?”

“Well, excited isn't exactly the word I’d use for it,” she said wryly. “Even if I’m the one who chose the subject, it’s still going to be a lot of work.”

“A ton of it,” you said, making a face. “You’re lucky, though. Your term doesn’t start for another week.”

“Well, it also ends a week later, so that doesn’t mean anything,” she said, sipping on the last few drops of her coffee — which she always ordered black, not because she liked it that way but because she was trying to keep up appearances and whatnot. “What about you?”

“I think classes and all will be a good distraction. It’ll be nice to have something to keep myself busy,” you said.

“What do you need to be distracted from?” she said.

“Just homesickness and stuff. The typical things you’d expect,” you said. She hummed sympathetically.

“I get it,” she said. “I miss my parents like crazy sometimes, especially when I need help with random stuff. The other day, I had to video call my mother so she could explain how to clean a cast iron pan.”

“You could’ve looked that up,” you said.

“Yeah, but it was nicer to hear it from her,” she said.

“Yeah,” you echoed, because it was the same for you. You often found yourself calling your parents for no reason at all, asking them stupid questions just to listen to them talk. “I’m glad to be on my own, but I do miss my mother and father a lot.”

“Anyone else?” she said.

“What do you mean?” you said.

“Just wondering,” she said. “You know, come to think of it, you were kind of late coming to your seat. Freaked your parents out beyond belief. Any reason in particular?”

“I was just talking to Tabito,” you said. “Saying bye and all.”

“Are you going to miss him?” she prodded.

“Obviously. At this point, he’s like my brother, too. Isn’t it natural to miss your siblings?” you said.

“I don’t,” she said, though she immediately burst into laughter, which somewhat contradicted the statement.

“You’re horrible,” you said. “I know you do.”

“I do,” she affirmed. “But I think it’s in a different way than you do. It’s odd, because I’m the one who’s actually related to him, but the truth is that you two have always been closer than he and I ever were.”

“Probably because I’m not a jerk like you are,” you said.

“How can you consider yourself his additional older sister when you’re so nice to him? You need to bully him a bit more to earn that distinction,” she said.

“He hears enough of it out of you,” you said.

“Cheers, I’ll drink to that,” she said, holding up her paper cup and raising it to her lips, though you knew it was empty by now. You clinked your own against hers and finished the last remnants of your drink in one gulp. “You know, Y/N, I think you’re irreplaceable at this point.”

“You, too,” you said. “I’ll never be friends with anyone the way I am with you.”

“Fuck whoever we meet in college,” she said, nodding in approval. “I’m sure they’ll be cool and all, but the two of us, we hardly even count as friends anymore. It’s like we’re something more.”

“Exactly,” you said. “I can have a million more best friends, and likely I will, but never again will I have another Yayoi Karasu.”

“And don’t you forget it,” she said.

“I wouldn’t dare,” you said. “Not for a moment.”

Your first year of college flew past in the blink of an eye. On the whole, you preferred it to high school, even though there were aspects of the past you still held dear, seeped with nostalgia as they were. You made new friends, as did Yayoi, but just like you both had predicted, none of them measured up to each other. Still, it was fun to meet people from all different regions in the country and to hear about their lives. Some of your classmates weren’t even from Japan at all, and there was another layer of fascination there, learning about the ways of other nations, the cultures and foods they were accustomed to, and teaching them about your own in exchange.

Your mid term breaks were a bit shorter than Yayoi’s, which meant you weren’t ever able to justify visiting home, but in return, you had much longer in between years, so while Yayoi was still stressing over her finals, you were already taking the train back to the station by your house, texting your parents all the while.

In your absence, your childhood room had remained untouched, the stuffed animals arranged on your bed in the exact order you preferred, the books still stacked on the shelves, your artwork and photos of you with your friends hanging on the walls where you had put them. Time felt frozen, and it was as if you had never left, as if your entire year in Tokyo had been a dream and this had always been the reality.

After eating dinner with your parents, you showered and changed into one of your father’s old shirts and a pair of sweatpants, flopping face-first onto your bed and taking a deep breath, already feeling yourself nodding off despite the fact that it wasn’t that late. Traveling always exhausted you, however, and it was all you could do to turn your lights off and crawl under the covers, plugging your phone in to charge as you drifted off.

Right when you were about to fall asleep for good, your phone’s screen blazed to life, startling you awake as it vibrated urgently. Groaning and cursing whoever was calling you, you glared at the device until you realized exactly who it was, and then your unhappiness was promptly replaced with glee as you clicked on the green answer button.

“Tabito!” you said. Although you had texted with him every now and then, you were ashamed to admit that you hadn’t spoken to him as much as you should’ve. You reasoned that he had had equal opportunity to reach out first and hadn’t, so it wasn’t that big of a deal, but it was a feeble excuse that was only meant to deflect the blame from yourself and nothing more.

“Y/N,” he said. His voice was deeper than you remembered, and more resonant, too, lilting with a husky, full-bodied musicality that hadn’t been there when you had left. “Hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassured him. “What’s up?”

“Do you remember — sorry, this is really stupid, so don’t feel bad for saying no,” he said.

“It’s okay. I’ve definitely seen you do way stupider things,” you said. He chuckled.

“You’re probably right. Here goes, then. Um, do you remember when you went to my first soccer game in middle school, and afterwards, we agreed you wouldn’t come to another until I was the captain of a really good high school team?” he said.

“I think so, why?” you said. A second later, it hit you, and you gasped, beaming so widely that your face ached. “No way! For Bambi Osaka? Since when?”

“Yup, for Bambi Osaka. The old captain just graduated, and he named me as his replacement today, so, uh, since today, I guess,” he said.

“I wish you would’ve told me in person so you could see how much I’m smiling right now,” you said. “Congratulations, Tabito! You can’t begin to know how proud I am of you.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Anyways, our first game is this Thursday, so…”

“Huh? Did you want me to come?” you said. “Yayoi won’t be back from Tokyo by then, though. Shouldn’t I wait for her?”

“If you’d prefer that,” he said. “Or, I mean, you don’t have to go at all. I was just offering in case you were interested, but no hard feelings if not.”

Since when had he been so awkward with you? Since when had he stumbled over his words and been so unsure? You frowned at the mere chance that there was more than a physical distance between the two of you, even if it probably was the case, despite how much you had never wanted such an event to occur.

“As long as you want me, I’ll be there. I don’t have much else to do anyways, right? And how could I miss your first game as captain? Let me know where and when, and I’ll definitely come,” you said. He exhaled softly.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I want you there. I’ll let you know the details, but like I said, no pressure. Don’t force yourself. Come if you can.”

It was springtime, and the world was still remembering how to come alive, peeking out its head from the den of winter and blinking its sleepy eyes against the sun. There were not any flowers in bloom quite yet, but as far as the eye could see were buds on the precipice of rupturing, the pale undersides of their petals mere imitations of the hues they’d soon display proudly. The birds still warmed eggs in nests made of twigs and twine, but already there were cracks in a few of the creamy shells; here and there, even, little yellow beaks could be seen reaching towards the sky and chittering incessant demands at their parents.

You were lazy as you pedaled your bike down the side streets leading towards the field where the match was being held. It was an away game, technically, but this worked out better for you, as the high school they were playing at was closer to your house than the Bambi Osaka stadium, which was far enough that you would’ve needed to take a taxi.

According to Tabito, the game was actually more of a scrimmage, as they were playing a local school’s soccer club instead of another organization’s youth team, as they did in serious matches. Apparently, this was by design, as it gave their coach the opportunity to test Tabito's skills at being a captain in a low-stakes, low-pressure environment. If he proved himself incapable, the coach would override the previous captain’s pick and name another member of the team to the position, but if he played as well as he always did, and managed to coordinate the rest of the players in a satisfactory manner, then he’d be given the position permanently.

You had reminded him that this meant he technically wasn’t the captain yet, but to this he had said that he had the title and the armband, and if anything, since that was the situation, he needed you there more than ever. After all, he had explained, you had been in the audience when he had scored the winning goal in his first game for his middle school’s team. You were good luck for him. If you were in the crowd, then there was no way he could lose.

Parking your bike in the lot alongside the others, you locked it and then made your way towards the entrance to the stadium, the ticket Tabito had sent you in between your index and middle fingers. Even though there wouldn’t be very many people attending this game, it was Bambi Osaka’s policy to require tickets for entry to any of their matches, and the price if you weren’t associated with a player was, you heard, quite hefty.

You sat by yourself in the stands, your purse beside you and your legs crossed at the ankles. You couldn’t explain why, but there was a doubt in the back of your mind about whether you even belonged in the audience at all. Without Yayoi at your side, it felt like there was a neon sign in the air pointing at you and declaring you inept and unwelcome. Everyone else was buzzing with theories and predictions for the upcoming game, tossing out the names of the players and their opinions on them, but you were by yourself, without even a drink to warm your hands.

The gray of that isolation evaporated the moment that the Bambi Osaka boys took to the field, led by none other than Tabito. You were suddenly reminded that you weren’t just allowed to be there — you were wanted, genuinely wanted, and so you had as much if not more of a claim to your seat than anyone else could. Tabito had invited you. He could’ve invited anyone else in the entire city, but still he had invited you, and you would not tarnish that by thinking you were alone when he was there, as he always was.

As was to be expected, there was a complete difference to the way Tabito played when compared to that very first game of his which you had watched. For one, he was at the front of the field instead of in the middle, and there was an impertinence to the way he shook the hand of the opposing captain, an audacious smirk on his face which was visible even from the distance. This was a side of Tabito you weren’t so acquainted with, a side which was brazen and self-assured and stood as if he had already won before the referee even blew the whistle to begin.

The game moved faster than you could keep up with, and without Yayoi there to give you a play-by-play, you found yourself utterly lost about the finer details of the match. Still, even you could tell that Bambi Osaka was in the lead, and by no small margin — largely in part thanks to the combined skills of Tabito and a slender, pale-haired boy whose jersey read Hiori.

When Tabito was younger, there had been a desperate, vicious quality to his soccer, as if he really might die should he lose. It was in direct contrast to now, where he toyed with the opposite team in much the same way a cat would toy with a ball of yarn — with a distinct sense of superiority, like he was looking down on them even as he forced his way past, not giving them any other choice but to watch as he drove his way down the field.

“Is number 10 the new captain?” a boy behind you said. He sounded younger; maybe he had an older brother on one of the teams, or maybe he was just that supportive of Bambi Osaka. You didn’t turn, but you did tune into the conversation, wondering what they’d say about Tabito.

“Karasu? Yes, he is,” a slightly older boy said. “My brother said he’s a real asshole, but he’s a great guy when it counts. They’re all happy he’s the one who was recommended for the spot.”

“He’s so good,” the younger boy said. “And Hiori, as well. They’re both amazing.”

“Hiori’s only a first year, too. I bet he’s going to go far,” the older boy said. “Now shush, quit distracting me. I’m trying to watch the game.”

To no one’s surprise, Bambi Osaka won by a ridiculous amount of goals, and as Tabito shook hands with the school’s captain again, you noticed their coach nodding in approval, annotating something on his clipboard with a satisfied smile on his face. You waited until all of them had vanished into the locker rooms to head to the exit and wait by your bike for Tabito to join you.

About twenty minutes later, he and the rest of the team trickled out, discussing their game and the plans for the next one. At first it seemed like he had not noticed you, absorbed in conversation as he was, but it quickly became evident that he had, for he skillfully guided the others towards where you stood, never faltering in words nor steps until he reached you. Then he paused, schooling his expression into one of shock, his eyebrows raising and his lips parting as if he had happened upon you entirely by accident. It was an amusing bit of theatrics, albeit realistic to anyone who did not know his mannerisms as well as you did.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, all composed and airy and dispassionate, as if it were mere coincidence that the two of you had met at that moment, as if it hardly mattered to him that you were there. It might’ve fooled another person, but not once in his life had he been able to fool you, and he certainly wouldn’t start today.

He must’ve showered in the locker rooms, for his hair fell loose and silky around his face instead of styled back as it typically was, and when you hugged him — which was met a reflexive return of his arms around your body before he could even manage to yelp in surprise — you could smell the faint, pleasant scent of his soap which still clung to his skin.

“Hi,” you said, holding onto him for as long as you deemed publicly appropriate before wriggling free and smiling at him. “I think you did good. Without Yayoi, I couldn’t be sure, but to me you looked great.”

“Eh,” he said. “Could’ve been worse. Could’ve been better. But thanks.”

“Woah, Karasu,” one of his teammates said. He was a tall and burly player who reminded you vaguely of Aoyama, and he accompanied the exclamation by wrapping one arm around Tabito in a friendly headlock and using his free hand to ruffle the boy’s damp hair, leaving him to resemble a sea urchin. “You didn’t tell us you had such a beautiful girlfriend! Hello, ma’am, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Get off of me,” Tabito wheezed, slapping his teammate away. “You fuckface, I’m going to kill you. Don’t try to shake her hand!”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” you said, accepting his teammate’s proffered hand. “Just best friends with his older sister. You can think of me as a stand-in for her while she’s finishing up her first year in Tokyo. My name’s Y/N, by the way.”

“Ah, you’re that Y/N!” he said.

“I believe I am? What does that mean?” you said.

“Nothing bad,” Tabito cut in. “Yayoi’s come to a few games and mentioned you, so everyone’s been wanting to meet you.”

“It’s true. I mean, a girl who refused to come to a game until and unless Karasu was made captain? We all thought you must be something intense,” his teammate said. “You seem pretty normal, though. And also super hot, if you don’t mind me mentioning.”

“Well, he’s the one who told me not to come, so if anyone’s intense, it’s him,” you said. “And, uh, thanks? I guess?”

“I mind you mentioning, so shut the hell up,” Tabito said, finally breaking free of his teammate’s hold and shoving him away from you. “Sorry about this one, Y/N. He’s incorrigible.”

His teammate laughed raucously. “My fault, my fault. Sorry, Karasu.”

“Say sorry to her,” Tabito said. “She’s the one you were bothering.”

“It’s alright,” you assured him. “Really, I don’t mind the compliment. Even if it could’ve been phrased better.”

“Anything for you, gorgeous lady,” his teammate said with a wink. “But, ah, considering I value my life and limbs, I think I’m going to head out now, as our new captain seems about a few seconds away from murdering me. See you around!”

He ran away to rejoin the rest of the Bambi Osaka boys as they all headed in their separate directions towards their homes, leaving you and Tabito alone once more. As soon as they were all gone, he sighed, that put-upon countenance he had maintained for the entirety of the conversation falling apart in an instant.

“I didn’t think he’d say all of that,” he said. “Sorry again.”

“You worry so much,” you said. “Come on, you just won another match, didn’t you? That’s cause to celebrate, so don’t look so tired and mopey.”

“I don’t look tired and mopey!” he defended. “This is just how my face is!”

“Uh-huh, sure,” you said, unlocking your bike and beginning to walk it beside you so you could keep talking to him. “I seem to remember your face being quite a bit rounder and sunnier. Now you’re all angles and doom and gloom.”

“That’s not something I can help,” he said, taking your bike from you so he could walk it instead. “Y/N, you’re being mean. I haven’t seen you in so long and now you’re acting like Yayoi.”

“You think I’m acting like Yayoi? I’m hurt,” you said. “Okay, then, you sensitive captain. How about we go get ice cream? My treat, since you got the position and all.”

“Okay,” he said. “But it’ll be my treat, not yours, because you came to my game and stayed the whole time. It was your good luck that helped me in the end.”

“Offering to pay for me? I suppose I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, so I’ll allow it this time. Anyways, I would’ve had to, because I just realized I left my wallet at home,” you said.

“Almost like you did that on purpose,” he mused, bumping your shoulder with his. “Was that your plan all along? Suggesting we get ice cream but forgetting to bring any money, so I had to cover for us both?”

“I see why your team members think you’re an asshole,” you said. “It’s a surprise, to be sure, but then again, maybe I should’ve seen it coming.”

“Who’s calling me an asshole?” he said. “How did you know that? I’m not! Whoever it is, they were making things up, because I’m — I’m super nice! Seriously, where did you hear that? Stop giggling and answer me!”

You extended your arm to run your fingers through his mussed up hair, smoothing it down as best as you could. “A magician never tells her secrets. Don’t worry about it and just tell me which flavor you’re getting.”

“The same as always, why?” he said.

“I want to decide whether I should steal some of it or not,” you said.

“You don’t have to steal it. I’ll share if you want some,” he said.

“It’s better if I’m doing something wrong. I think it adds to the flavor, or enhances it, or something,” you said. He considered this before nodding with the utmost of gravity.

“If that’s how it is, then you’re absolutely not allowed to even look at my ice cream. I’ll be, uh, super mad if you do,” he said, his glare so fearsome and dark that it skipped the realms of intimidation and landed squarely in the land of comedy.

“You’re the best,” you said.

“I do what I can,” he said. “Will you let me have some of yours?”

“Hm,” you said. “Fine, but only because I love you so much.”

He fought back a smile at that, staring directly ahead, the tendons of his hands flexing on the handlebars of your bike as you continued to walk along the empty sidewalk, the glowing sun in the distance a reminder of the many days exactly like this which you still had left to spend.

The break flew by so quickly it was almost more of a punishment than anything. About as soon as you had gotten settled back into a rhythm of spending your days with the Karasus and your evenings with your parents, it was time for you and Yayoi to return to Tokyo for your second year of college, as well as for Tabito to enter his final year of high school.

You took for granted that you would be back as soon as the first term ended, so when you boarded the train to Tokyo, you didn’t take the time to properly appreciate the place where you had grown up. The city where you had whiled away your idyllic childhood…you had considered it a guarantee that you’d return soon, so why would you linger? But a couple of weeks into your first term, you got news from your parents: your father’s job had, almost out of the blue, transferred him, and so they would be moving to nearby Kawasaki by the end of the month.

There was definitely a pro to having your parents at that distance — they were close enough that you could visit them whenever you wanted to, but far enough that you could justify not going if you were so inclined, and removed enough that your life still belonged to you and only you. Still, it was a little like having a rug pulled out from under you when you weren’t even aware you were standing on a rug in the first place; especially because you could not so much as help in the moving process, given that you were stuck at school and could make no excuse to go back home for such a long time.

The house they found in Kawasaki was in a good area, and though it was smaller than your old one, it was still airy and bright, with large windows and wooden floors and enough bedrooms that you could still have your own despite not living there full-time anymore. Your parents were actually glad for the reduced size, for it meant less emptiness, less cleaning to be done in places that never even got used or looked at.

When you went to visit during the first term break, it seemed like they really were happy there. Or perhaps they were just trying to convince you that this was for the best, that you should not be sad, but if that was so, then they shouldn’t have bothered. You were the one who had left first, who had gone to Tokyo to study and work. Of course it was more abrupt and final than you had wanted, but hadn’t this day always been looming on the horizon? Eventually, you would’ve stopped visiting so frequently, if at all. There was no reason to mourn the occurrence of an inevitability.

Besides the drama of your parents’ move, your second year was uneventful. You made even more friends than you had in your first year, and you still saw Yayoi as much as you could, although it was more difficult for the time being. Luckily, at this point you two had the kind of friendship wherein you picked up as if you had never been apart whenever you reunited, so you at least had that one constant in what sometimes felt like an ever-shifting life.

Around the time that your finals began, you received a text from Tabito, written in a formal language that was nothing like the messages full of abbreviations and emoticons that he generally sent you.

‘Hi, Y/N. I hope you’re doing well, and that your second year in university didn’t give you too much difficulty. I’m just reaching out to let you know that my graduation is next Friday. The ceremony starts at 6:30 in the evening, and I managed to reserve you a spot. The address and information is on the ticket — if you’re able to come, then I’d really appreciate it, but if not, then that’s totally okay. I just thought I should let you know.’

You stared at your phone, a sinking feeling in your stomach. No matter how much you wanted to go, you couldn’t. There were too many factors against it, and you felt horrible as you typed out your response. Any way you went about it came across as too harsh, but then again, was there even a gentle way to reject someone when they had come to you with something so important?

‘tabito!! i can’t believe you’re graduating already, wow!! i really would like to come, but i have a final that friday in the afternoon :( plus i don’t know if you heard or not but my family moved to kawasaki, so i wouldn’t really have anywhere to stay. thank you so much for inviting me though!! i’ll get yayoi to bring a cardboard cutout of me to put in my seat or something LOL. it’ll be just like the real thing!!!’

He responded almost immediately, and despite the effort he must’ve made to sound unaffected, he was obviously disappointed by the turn of events, his efforts at cheer only further highlighting that fact.

‘It’s okay, really! And thank you. Haha yes a Y/N cutout will have to be good enough then. Good luck on your final!’

The rest of the week, the unopened file from Tabito, which sat in your email inbox, tantalized you, and you found yourself obsessively checking the schedule of trains leaving Tokyo. There was one back to your hometown that would depart an hour after your exam was scheduled to end, and you refreshed it constantly, waiting to see if tickets would sell out. Once they were gone, it would give you an excuse not to buy them, but to your frustration, they never did.

You would have to run, and even then it wasn’t a guarantee you would make it, to the train or the graduation, but it was the best chance you had, and with every passing moment, it began to sound like more and more of a viable option.

On Thursday evening, when you once again checked the ticket site and noticed there were open seats, you bit your tongue to stop yourself from swearing, and then you entered your credit card information into the prompt. A minute later, you got a confirmation email, letting you know that your seat was booked for the next day. Burying your face in your hands, you inhaled deeply, vowing not to tell Tabito in case he got his hopes up for nothing. Breathing in and out through your nose once more, you straightened your back and opened up your textbook, returning to studying with a renewed vigor borne of the adrenaline rush which resulted from the impulsive decision.

If your professor found it odd that you came to the exam hall in formal clothes, with your hair done and an overnight bag over your shoulder, she did not say anything, only motioning for you to put your bag with the others and then handing you your paper.

Thankfully, you had studied through the year, and this exam was for one of your easier subjects, so it was a relative breeze. You finished with time to spare, leaving the hall with your things and walking to the train station without any worries except for what would happen once you reached your end destination.

The train ride was longer than you remembered, and by the time you were disembarking at the station closest to Tabito’s high school, it was already 6:00. You sprinted through the platform, calling out apologies as you ran into people or elbowed them out of the way, trying to get to the taxi area before anyone else could claim all of the available vehicles.

“Stop!” you shouted when the singular remaining taxi prepared to drive off to a different pick-up location. You must’ve looked a sight, chasing after a taxi by the train station, wearing a dress and heels, stumbling over your feet with your arm outstretched. “Hey, sir! Stop!”

By some miracle, he saw you through the rearview mirror and screeched to a halt. You opened the back door and dove in, scribbling down the address on a slip of paper and handing it to him, as was customary. Then, when he input the address into his GPS and accelerated onto the route, you leaned forward.

“Sir, I’ll tip you generously if you can get me there before 6:30,” you said.

“I will do my best, ma’am. Please hold on,” he said. That was all the warning you got before he stepped on the gas pedal, the car taking off at all but twice the speed of the surrounding traffic, leaving you to hold onto your seat as the scenery outside blurred into nothing but a smear of pinks and greens and browns.

He got you there at 6:27, which was too close for comfort but still earlier than should’ve been humanly possible, so you reached into your wallet and pulled out a wad of cash that was certainly more than you owed. Slapping it on the console, you mumbled out a thank you and ran off without waiting for a response, trying your best to remember the directions to the auditorium from the email Tabito had sent you.

“Do you have a ticket, miss?” the security guard waiting at the door to the auditorium said. You reached into your pocket and tried to unlock your phone; your slick fingers typed in the wrong password twice before it finally opened and you could brandish the file. He squinted at it before nodding and opening the door for you. “The ceremony has already begun, so please try not to make too much of a disturbance when you enter.”

Your shins and the balls of your feet ached from how much ground you had covered in your less-than-supportive footwear and the speed at which you had done so. Your shoulder, too, was sore under the strain of your bag, but you ignored these pains, counting down the rows and the seat numbers until you spotted the empty one that belonged to you. Squeezing past the others who had already taken their places, you collapsed in the cushioned chair, a sigh of relief escaping you when you saw that, though the ceremony was already underway, Tabito was still yet to go.

“Oh, hey, Y/N,” Yayoi said absentmindedly, for your seat was naturally beside hers. Then, like she had realized what she had said, her jaw dropped. “Y/N? I thought you couldn’t come!”

“Shh, he’s about to go,” you said. “I’ll explain later.”

If you had hesitated for even a minute at any point, you would’ve missed it, but by the grace of some universal power, you had made it into your seat right as Tabito stepped up to take his diploma. He scanned the crowd, much in the same way he did when he was playing soccer, but sadly instead of sharply, like he was aware that he was about to be disappointed yet knew he had to experience that disappointment first-hand regardless.

His eyes slid over everyone in the audience dismissively, but when they landed upon you, they paused, and though it was too far for you to see, you fancied they must’ve widened the slightest bit. Not enough for anyone else to make anything of it, but enough for you to know.

For an instant, everyone else disappeared. In that auditorium, there was only Tabito on the stage and you in the audience, his diploma slack in his grasp, your breaths still fast and uneven. And although there was a distance, and no small one at that, between you and him, it was as if you were right by his side, as if you could see every single emotion which flickered across his face. Shock. Disbelief. Wonder. Then, finally, a sheer, childish thing which could only be called joy — unabashed and whole and candid joy. He smiled in the way he only did for you, not for anyone else in the entire world, not smug and haughty but shy and sincere, and you could not help but smile as well, raising your hand and waving at him like he always did at you.

He was taken aback, but obviously delighted, and so, as the principal announced his name and read off his accomplishments while with the school, Tabito ignored the praise and the applause, focusing solely on returning your wave with one of his own.

“What are you doing here?” he said, sweeping you into a hug as soon as you had all left the auditorium and he had reunited with his family. “You said you couldn’t come!”

“I was wondering the same thing,” Yayoi said from where she was waiting at your side. “And Tabito, when you’re done showing your clearfavoritism, give me a high-five or something.”

He held onto you for a moment longer before letting go and high-fiving his sister, who was the only one that hadn’t been there for when Mr. and Mrs. Karasu, as well as Tabito and Yayoi’s grandmother, had taken teary eyed photos with him. She had instead stayed with you, telling you that you owed her an explanation and then jumping to another topic of conversation before you could give her one.

“There was a train from Tokyo which left an hour after my exam window ended,” you said. “I know you don’t like surprises, but I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to make it, so I didn’t want to tell you in advance in case things didn’t work out. As it is, I had to bribe the taxi driver to get me here from the station at highly illegal speeds, and with that, I only made it to the front of the building by 6:27. Honestly, I still can’t believe I got there before you went at all, but I’m so glad I did.”

“Me, too. You’re right that I don’t normally like surprises, but this one, I was really happy about, so it’s an exception,” Tabito said. Now that he was no longer under obligation to hang around with Yayoi, he was back at your side, playing with the zipper of your bag in fascination while you spoke.

“Me, three,” Yayoi said. “He was seriously depressed that you weren’t coming. The house was like a toxic wasteland the entire week. It’s going to be much safer and cleaner now.”

“Toxic wasteland?” you said.

“Yup, and the toxic waste himself is right next to you, so be careful,” she said.

“You’re so dramatic. It wasn’t like that,” Tabito said.

“Sure,” she said. “Yup. Totally wasn’t.”

“Why do you always do this?” he whined.

“Do what?” Yayoi said.

“Try to embarrass me whenever you can!” he said.

“Not like it’s possible for me to embarrass you in front of Y/N out of everyone. You do that all on your own, so there’s no way I can make things worse,” she said.

“Yayoi!” he snapped.

“Onto more pressing subjects,” you interjected before things could worsen. “Um. I do have a slight problem.”

“What is it?” Tabito said.

“I kind of came here on a whim, so I don’t really have anywhere to sleep, exactly,” you said. The siblings exchanged looks before Yayoi rolled her eyes and Tabito grabbed your bag from you.

“You’ll stay with us, of course,” Yayoi said.

“For as long as you want,” Tabito added. “Or as long as you can, actually. That’s better. Don’t leave until you absolutely have to.”

“We can put your bags in the car, and then we have to take pictures,” Yayoi said.

“I didn’t know you cared enough to want to commemorate my graduation,” Tabito said. Yayoi snorted.

“Nah, I just want to commemorate Y/N’s wild journey from Tokyo, and the fact that she magically got here on time. I don’t ever want to forget about that,” she said.

“I’d be offended, but actually, I’m in agreement. I can’t believe you bribed a taxi driver for me,” Tabito said.

“Ah, well, you know,” you said. “I just told him I’d tip him if he could get me there on time, and he did it.”

“You’re crazy,” he said affectionately.

“Totally,” Yayoi agreed.

“And aren’t you grateful for it?” you said, curling your fingers around his wrist and throwing the other arm around Yayoi’s shoulders, causing her to shoot you a mock-dirty look before she made herself comfortable against you.

“Yes,” Tabito said, his eyelashes brushing his cheeks when he lowered them bashfully, that same smile lighting up his face at the sensation of your fingers dancing over his veins. “I really am.”

The world was quite determined not to split you and the Karasus apart for very long. You learned that night that, along with getting into a prestigious college, Tabito had also been selected to join the Japanese U-20 soccer team. In order to balance his academics — he could’ve quit school entirely by this point if he so chose, but he was far too paranoid to not have a second option should his soccer career not take off — with the new demands of the team, he would be living in Tokyo with one of his new teammates, a boy he had never met but was supposedly named something along the lines of Eita Otoya.

His new place was somewhat close to your apartment; close was a subjective word, of course, but to you, when the weather was nice and you were in no rush to be anywhere or do anything, it was a perfectly walkable distance, and you told him you’d definitely show him and Otoya around once they were moved in and had a moment to spare for such a frivolous outing.

Between his practices and the increase in his workload, it seemed like you really might never see Tabito at all, however close you might’ve now been to him physically. Yet somehow, on a warm day at the brink of summer, he texted you asking if the offer was still on the table, and if so, could you please show him and Otoya a place to get good coffee, because the stuff they made with their Keurig machine wasn’t cutting it anymore. You laughed, responding that you’d be delighted to, and that you were free all weekend, with no qualms about dedicating a day solely to them.

Your first impression of Eita Otoya was that, next to Tabito, he had a delicate and pointed appeal to his pretty features. He was smaller than Tabito, and although there wasn’t an ounce of menace in the way he stood, all inviting and open and casual, there was a wolflike canniness to his green irises, which glimmered when he noticed you approaching.

Before Otoya could even say anything, Tabito had covered his mouth with a hand, glaring down at him in a manner which did not seem to entirely be in jest.

“No way,” he said. “Flirt with whoever else you want, but she and Yayoi are off limits.”

Otoya held his hands up in the air, his voice muffled by Tabito’s palm when he spoke. “Got it, dude. Plenty of other fish in the sea, right?”

“For you, yeah,” Tabito said. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, Tabito,” you said. “And you must be Otoya? It’s nice to meet you. Tabito’s mentioned you a few times.”

“Hopefully he’s only said good things,” Otoya said, shaking your hand, careful to keep a cordial distance between you two.

“On the contrary, I’ve been led to believe you’re the devil incarnate,” you said.

“Really?” Otoya said.

“No, of course not. He’s only ever spoken highly of you. I was just joking,” you said.

“That’s a relief,” Otoya said. “It’d be awkward if you had a bad impression of me before we’d even met.”

“Did you really think I’d complain about you to her? I’m kind of hurt,” Tabito said.

“Look, you never know! Maybe that’s how you get your aggression out,” Otoya said.

“It’s not. If I had any aggression, I’d just yell at you yourself. I definitely wouldn’t burden her with any of your hypothetical nonsense, not in a million years,” Tabito said.

“Woah, didn’t realize we had a gentleman here,” Otoya said with a snicker. “Okay, then. Thanks for not talking shit about me behind my back.”

“Anytime,” Tabito said.

“Are you two done yet?” you said. “I don’t want the place to close before we get a spot.”

“Is it nearby?” Otoya said. “As long as it’s close, it doesn’t even matter if it’s expensive. I just need something better than those shitty convenience store Keurig packets Tabito’s been getting for us.”

“That’s the best I’ve been able to bring home at the random times you text me telling me we’re out! Sorry I don’t stop by a damn café after every morning practice,” Tabito said.

“This guy,” Otoya said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Doesn’t understand the value of a good coffee one bit.”

“Not everyone has that touch,” you whispered back with a wink. “It’s alright. I won’t let you suffer any longer; the shop I’m taking you to is only a block away, and it’s relatively inexpensive — for the city, anyways. If you don’t know that it’s there, though, it’s easy to miss, so I don’t blame you for not seeing it.”

“My hero!” Otoya said. “Lead the way.”

You had discovered the small café entirely by accident during your first year in Tokyo. It was tucked away between a laundromat and a veterinary office, far from where one would expect a shop of its nature to be located, and although there was were always a couple of patrons scattered throughout the booths and tables, it was never bustling or crowded enough to take away from the cozy atmosphere.

Tabito held the door open for you, and consequently for Otoya, who followed after and inhaled deeply, clasping his hands together in awe.

“This is amazing,” he said. “L/N, you’re like an angel sent from heaven or something. I could fall to my knees and praise you with a sonnet right now, I’m that happy.”

“If you fall to your knees or do anything similarly stupid in front of her, I’ll show you why I made the U-20 team,” Tabito said, raising his leg in the air like he was threatening to kick Otoya.

“He was just joking around, Tabito, it’s not a big deal,” you said. Then, to Otoya: “You’re pretty funny, you know.”

“Thanks,” he said with a grin. “I try my best. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.”

“Mostly it doesn’t,” Tabito muttered under his breath. “Tell me your order, Y/N, and I’ll get it for you.”

“Oh, thanks!” you said, listing off your favorites from the cafe’s menu for him. He wrote it down on his phone, lines of concentration etched into his brow as he painstakingly typed out the entire order before showing it to you to confirm that it was correct.

“Can you get me their seasonal drink?” Otoya said, sliding into the seat across from you and peering up at Tabito, who was entirely unamused by the act. “That floral-type latte. It sounds sick.”

“Get it yourself,” Tabito said.

“Why? You’re going to be up there, so just order and let me get to know dear Miss L/N here,” Otoya said. Tabito seemed conflicted, but you nodded reassuringly at him.

“Fine, but you — you know the deal,” he said, brandishing his pointer finger at Otoya. “Don’t you dare mess with her.”

“You got it,” Otoya said with a double-thumbs-up.

“I’m sorry. He’s always been like that, but he really does mean well,” you said, gazing after Tabito once he had stomped away to the counter.

“Been like what?” Otoya said. “An asshole? Ah, but I’m only saying it affectionately, so please don’t tell him I called him that, or else you’ll cause problems where there aren’t any.”

“He’s sweet at heart,” you said. “I know how he can seem to other people, especially at first, but I met him when he was four years old, so I guess I never really saw that side of him. He’s never been anything but kind to me. I guess that’s all I’m trying to say.”

“You’ve known Karasu for that long?” Otoya said.

“Yup. Like I said, I’m not denying that he’s abrasive most of the time, but he’s only being so protective because he cares about his sister and I so very much. Please don’t take it personally. He’s just that type of younger sibling,” you said.

“Younger sibling?” Otoya repeated. “That’s how you see him, huh? I get it now. If that’s how things are, then I won’t butt in.”

“That’s how they are,” you said. For some reason, this caused him to laugh at you, but it was pitying and mocking and not a sound you preferred to hear from anyone — most certainly not from a person you had only just met.

“It’s always so complicated in life, huh? That’s why I never really try too hard. Problems get worse the more you think about them,” he said. It hardly counted as an explanation, but for some reason, you were sure that that was all you were going to get out of him. “Oh, shit!”

“What happened?” you said as, abruptly and without warning, he shot to his feet,

“I was supposed to work on a group presentation today,” he said, running a hand through his hair with a groan. “They just texted to confirm that we’re meeting in the library in fifteen minutes.”

“Can you make it on time?” you said. He was already typing the address of his school’s library into his GPS, and the instant it loaded, he nodded at you.

“I’ve got it, but I’m afraid I’ll have to head out right about now, or else this crazy girl in my group will kill me. Tell Karasu I’ll send him the money for my drink, and that he can enjoy it on me,” he said. “Poor guy needs it, I’m pretty sure.”

“It’ll be too sweet for him, but I’ll pass along the message, sure,” you said.

“Now, normally, this would be the part where I’d ask you for your number, but no matter how beautiful you are, I’m not willing to risk my living situation for you,” he said. “Karasu’s pretty cool, as far as roommates go. It could definitely be worse, so I’d really not like to lose him and end up with some weirdo who collects toenail clippings, just for flirting with the one girl that he declared off-limits.”

“His actual sister’s off-limits as well,” you reminded Otoya. “So that’s two.”

“He did say that, didn’t he? But you’re off-limits in a different way, and unless I want to end up like my own older sister, whose first-year roommate built a replica of the Taj Mahal from the hair she collected out of their drain, I’m going to respect that,” he said.

“That’s disgusting,” you said, too busy gagging at the mental image artwork he had just described to even question what else he was talking about. “Well, you should be off to your group project, then. I’m sure I’ll see you around, Otoya, but in case it’s not for a while, I’ll wish you luck with soccer and school now.”

“Thanks. The same to you, and I am eternally in your debt for showing me this place, so if you ever need something, let me know,” he said, scrambling hastily out of the café without bothering to push his chair back under the table.

Tabito returned a few seconds later, setting the tray of your drinks down on the table and taking his spot in the booth at your side. Handing you the cup that belonged to you, he sipped on his own and placed Otoya’s across from himself.

“Where’d Otoya go?” he said.

“He said something about working on a group project and left. Apparently, he’ll send you the money for the drink, and you’re free to do with it as you please,” you said. Tabito wrinkled his nose.

“He always gets such sweet shit. There’s no way I’m going to be able to drink that,” he said.

“That’s what I told him, but what other option is there? We can share so it isn’t wasted,” you said, taking a swig from Otoya’s flowery beverage. It wasn’t bad, and you had a little more before giving it to Tabito.

“Ugh,” he said. “Fine.”

He poked out his tongue, lapping up the tiniest droplet of coffee which lingered on the rim of the cup, and then he made a face, handing it back to you and then gulping down two mouthfuls of his own drink to wash out the taste.

“That bad?” you said.

“Tasted like shit,” he said. “I don’t know how the two of you can drink that kind of stuff regularly without gagging.”

“It’s not my favorite, but it’s not as horrible as you’re making it out to be,” you said.

“I can literally feel my arteries clogging as we speak,” he said.

“Since when did you start speaking like an old man?” you said. “What boy your age talks about his arteries clogging?”

“Firstly, I’m trying to become a professional athlete, so I have to pay careful attention to things like my health, and secondly, we’re not that far apart in age. We have to worry about the same things, like jobs and grades and clogged arteries. Concerns of that nature,” he said.

“I’m glad you feel that way, but why’d you think I was referring to people my own age when I said old man, hm?” you said, elbowing him in the ribs playfully. “For your information, I doubt any of my own classmates would care about that shit yet, either. That was a distinctly middle-aged thing of you to say.”

“That makes me older than you,” he said. “If I’m middle-aged and you’re still all youthful and whatnot, that is. How do you feel about that age gap? It’s a little racy, don’t you think?”

You gave him an incredulous look. He couldn���t even maintain his straight face for more than a second, immediately losing composure and snorting at you.

“You’re the worst,” you said.

“And you’re easy to tease,” he said. “I’m sorry, but I had to take the opportunity when it presented itself.”

“I’ll give it to you this once,” you said. “Next time, you’re not getting off so easily.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “You’re all talk. I’m not scared one bit.”

“It’s not my fault you’re so adorable,” you said. “How am I supposed to stay mad when you look like you just watched a puppy die every time Yayoi yells at you?”

He scowled at you. “You’re making that up, aren’t you? Or is that how you actually see me?”

“Hm,” you said. “Let’s finish our drinks. They don’t taste as good if they’ve sat for too long.”

Huffing in exasperation but knowing that you’d not go into more detail once you’d changed the subject, he finished off what was left of his order in one fell swoop, and then he snatched Otoya’s drink from your hands, tossing it into the trashcan before you could so much as blink.

“Aw,” you said. “I feel bad. That’s how we’re responding to Otoya’s act of goodwill?”

“Forget about his goodwill,” Tabito said. “It’s not like he did it because of how magnanimous he is or anything. He’s just a dumbass who forgot that he had prior commitments.”

“Nothing like you, of course,” you said. “You’re always on time, and you only ever order the best of drinks.”

“Exactly,” he said firmly, leaving no room for argument — not that you would’ve argued with him, even if there was any cause to. Your father had always told you that generally, it was better to lose an argument than a loved one, and since the notion of losing Tabito was akin to a spear being driven into your heart, you did your best to avoid the chance of that frightful outcome ever occurring at all.

A few days before the end of the winter term, Yayoi called you in a flurrying panic. When you picked up, you were expecting her to be asking about the plans you had made for the road trip you two were taking, but it was nothing of the sort. Indeed, the first words out of her mouth were ones you had never once heard from her, and you almost dropped your phone the moment she said them.

“Y/N, I need your help. There’s this guy—”

“What?” you said. “Since when? What’s his name? Where did you meet him, and how? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Is he handsome?”

“Oh my god, one question at a time!” she said. “Yes, he’s super handsome — actually, he’s a model, so it’s kind of a prerequisite. I’m telling you as it happens, so don’t think I’m keeping things from you! His name is Kenyu Yukimiya; he plays for the U-20 team with Tabito, and I met him when I went to one of their practices because I was bored. We spoke once, but I don’t think he remembers I exist, and even if he does, he probably considers me as nothing more than his teammate’s older sister.”

“Wait, U-20? Is he younger than us?” you said.

“Yes, he’s in Tabito’s year, though a couple of months older than him,” she said. “Do you think it’s weird? Oh, it’s totally weird, isn’t it? I’m a creep! I’m a stupid, ugly creep! Lock me away or turn me into the police or something!”

You cut her wailing off with a snicker. “Yayoi, relax. It’s not that weird, and I mean that honestly. It’s hardly even a two year difference, right? My own parents have a bigger age gap, and besides, you both are in pretty similar spots in life, so it shouldn’t be a problem, especially if he’s mature.”

“He seemed mature,” she said contemplatively. “He was super polite and kind when I spoke to him. Plus, unlike my stupid brother, he actually enjoys talking about the same things I do.”

“There you go, then,” you said. “You’re worrying for nothing. The only reason why anyone might say anything is because you’re older than him, but who cares about that? It’s a tired concept, the whole notion of the woman needing to be younger or smaller than her male partner or whatever. As long as he’s single and into you, I’d say you’re in the clear.”

“That’s what I actually called you to talk about!” Yayoi said. “You’ve had a boyfriend, so you know a little more than I do about this kind of thing. How am I supposed to get him to ask me out?”

“Just so you know, having had one boyfriend back in high school doesn’t exactly qualify me to give you advice,” you said. “Also, you can’t really get someone to ask you out. Why don’t you just go to another one of their practices and talk to him again once they’re done? If the conversation is flowing well, then you can ask him out yourself.”

“Um, that would be a great idea if I was brave enough to ask someone out,” she said. “Unfortunately, I definitely am not.”

“You don’t have to be all official and serious about it,” you said. “Don’t say you want to date or anything — ask him if he wants to hang out to continue the conversation at a later time, and then give him your number. That’s all. If he’s interested, he’ll call or text you to make plans, and if he’s not, then he won’t.”

“It’s that simple?” she said.

“I think it is,” you said. “I wouldn’t know from personal experience. Aoyama just asked me out. I never had to do anything.”

“Not all of us can be that lucky!” she said.

“Yeah, I get it. But I have confidence that you can pull it off! It’ll go great, and then you’ll actually be dating a model in Tokyo like you always said you would,” you said.

“Okay…” she said hesitantly. “Y/N?”

“Yayoi?” you said.

“Canyoucometothepracticewithme?” she said, all in one unintelligible breath. You furrowed your brow.

“Could you repeat that?” you said.

“Can you come to the practice with me?” she said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to do it without you pressuring me a bit.”

“Sure, why not?” you said. “Is it in the morning or evening?”

“They have evening practices on Tuesdays. I was thinking we could go to one of those? That’s what I did last time, so it’s an established thing, and anyways I don’t think I could wake up early enough to go to a morning practice,” she said.

“Okay, good, because I was kind of scared I’d have to be up before the sun. I’d do it for you, and in a heartbeat, but I wouldn’t exactly be happy about it,” you said.

“I wouldn’t, either,” she said. “This Tuesday, then? We can have an early dinner or late snack together before heading over.”

“I won’t miss it,” you promised. “Make sure you wear something nice!”

After your Tuesday classes and errands were completed, you met Yayoi at a restaurant you both liked so that you could quickly eat before leaving for the practice. She was nervous the entire way, twirling the ends of her hair around her finger, straightening her already-perfect clothes, and chewing on her lower lip.

“Hey,” you said as the two of you entered the stadium and sat on the first row of benches. “Don’t stress out. If he’s an asshole, we’ll sic Tabito on him. I bet he could beat your crush in a fight, easily.”

“I don’t know,” Yayoi groaned. “Yukimiya’s super tall, and he looks pretty built, too. I think my baby brother might be outmatched.”

“No way,” you said loyally. “I’d bet on him over anyone.”

She glanced at you out of the corner of her eye. “I wish I could have the same faith in him, but considering what a dumbass he typically is, I can’t say I can muster it up. Look, that’s Yukimiya. Still think Tabito’s got it in the bag?”

Discreetly, she pointed out a boy with wavy chestnut hair and an admittedly powerful build. He stood next to Otoya, which only threw it into further relief just how muscular and tall he was. Yayoi hadn’t been lying about that, and neither had she made up how good-looking he was; you could tell just from that first glance that he was heartbreakingly handsome.

“Well,” you said, realizing that maybe you had been a bit overconfident in Tabito’s abilities. But you were too stubborn to change your answer now, and besides, you believed in him no matter what, so you only shrugged. “Yes. Even if it looked like he’d lose for sure, I’d still pick him. There just isn’t anyone else I’d ever choose.”

“Damn,” Yayoi said. “Fine, then. If Yukimiya ends up being an asshole, we’ll see who wins.”

“Deal,” you said. “Although, hopefully it doesn’t come to that.”

“Hopefully,” she agreed.

The practice was long, dragging on past sunset, the field’s lights turning on to ward away the darkness as the moon crept higher into the sky. Yayoi, who had confessed that she hadn’t slept well the previous night, slumped against you and passed out almost immediately, and you busied yourself with a pattern of checking your phone and watching moths fly fruitlessly into the massive lamps.

Finally, the coach blew the whistle to signify the end of the practice, and as the players exited the field, walking past where you were conveniently seated, right by the joint entrance-exit, you shook Yayoi.

“There’s no way you’re in this deep of a sleep,” you hissed at her unmoving form.

“Y/N?” It was not Yayoi but someone else who said your name; namely, Tabito, who had paused in front of you and Yayoi to gaze at you questioningly. “Why are you at my practice?”

“Not now, Tabito,” you said dismissively. Noticing that Otoya and, more importantly, Yukimiya, flanked him, you doubled down on your efforts to wake Yayoi, who remained unresponsive. “You bitch. I bet you’re just pretending to sleep so you don’t have to go through with the plan.”

“Hey, L/N! It’s been a bit,” Otoya said. “I’ve been visiting the place you showed us almost daily. It’s wicked good. You’re the best for bringing us there.”

“Hi, Otoya,” you said. “Sure, anytime. I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Yayoi, if you won’t get up, I’ll just do it myself.”

Without waiting for her to respond, you stood up and bowed slightly at Yukimiya, who seemed entirely bemused by your odd actions. He glanced at both Otoya and Tabito for help, but neither of them had any clue what you were doing, either, so they could offer no assistance to him on that front.

“It’s nice to meet you. I hear your name is Kenyu Yukimiya?” you said.

“Yes, that’s correct,” he said. He had a pretty manner of speech, proper and refined, each word spoken with careful control. “Who might you be?”

“Y/N L/N, but that’s unimportant,” you said. “That’s Yayoi Karasu. She’s Tabito’s barely-older sister. You should talk to her.”

“Y/N!” Yayoi screeched, shooting up to a sitting position. “Why would you phrase it like that?”

“What is going on here?” Tabito said. Otoya shrugged, clearly lost as well.

“So you were faking it the entire time! Never in my life have I met a bigger coward,” you said, clicking your tongue in disappointment.

“Yayoi Karasu?” Yukimiya said. “Oh, I know you! You were here last week, right? We talked about Neon Genesis Evangelion.”

“That’s right! You, uh, remembered that?” Yayoi said. He beamed at her.

“How could I not? The movie is one of my favorites, and none of these guys like it, so it was great to meet someone else who’s seen it so many times,” Yukimiya said.

“Y/N,” Tabito whispered, sidling over to you, the tip of his sharp nose brushing against the shell of your ear. “Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”

“Depends,” you whispered back. “If you think this is your sister having a crush on your soccer teammate, then yeah, it is. Otherwise, no.”

“That’s gross,” Tabito said, horror twisting his features. “Yayoi and Yuki? No way. You have to be joking.”

“Why not? Because he’s younger than her? It’s only two years. That’s nothing,” you said. “You should be more supportive.”

“No,” he said, a peculiar edge to his voice. “No, I don’t — I don’t care about that part. I thought you might, but I don’t at all.”

“Huh? Why would I?” you said. “If they’re both interested in each other, and they make each other happy, that’s all that matters. We’re adults, so a few years here and there is meaningless in the grand scheme of things.”

“What about you? Would you ever do it?” he said, breathless and impatient, clenching the hem of your shirt in one fist.

“Date someone younger than me? I’m not sure. I’ve never really considered it; you’re the only one younger than me that I regularly interact with, and, well, you know. There’s a special consideration there. Why? Got a teammate you want to set me up with or something?” you said.

“Absolutely not,” he said, stepping away from you and scowling. “I’d never ever ever let one of those mediocre fucking idiots anywhere near you.”

“Just a hypothetical question, then? I suppose there’s no harm in that kind of thing every now and again. Was my response alright?” you said.

“How am I supposed to answer that?” he said tiredly. “It’s what you think, so obviously it’s fine. I should go now. I don’t want to keep Otoya waiting; he’ll get pissy and annoying if I do.”

“Oh, okay. Bye, Tabito! Let me know if you’re free sometime. I feel like I never see you, even though we’re all but neighbors. We should do something,” you said. The strange tone of the conversation had left you reeling, and you scrambled for something that would make it better, would chase away the anxiety constricting your lungs like a vice.

“I’ll let you know,” he said. It was a dull attempt at sounding excited, and for a brief, striking instant, you wanted to reach out and beg him to wait one second more. You wanted to apologize, though you knew not what you had even done. You wanted him to stay until he smiled at you again, the way he usually did, and then you wanted to — you wanted to — you weren’t sure. You weren’t sure what you would do after that, but you would do something, hold his hand or embrace him or something.

Yet instead, you did nothing, watching as he rejoined Otoya and entered the locker room without a backwards glance, leaving you standing by yourself in the bleachers, your heart hammering in your chest like a crow with clipped wings, thrashing against the bars of its steel cage in a futile attempt to escape.

“Can you believe it?” Yayoi said later. “He asked me out first! I didn’t even have to do anything!”

“Congratulations,” you said, as genuinely as you could. “I’m really happy for you, Yayoi. Fingers crossed that it all works out well. I’m sure it will; he seems like a really great guy, and you both were talking for a while, so you’re clearly compatible.”

“Thanks, I think so too!” she said before narrowing her eyes at you. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing!” you said. She was so happy that you could not bear the thought of burdening her with your problems, especially when they weren’t even problems in the first place. Yayoi was having none of it, though, frowning at you.

“You can tell me,” she said. You shook your head, so she poked you in the forehead. “Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.”

She punctuated each utterance of the refrain with another poke, until finally you batted her hand away in exasperation “It really is nothing. I just think I did something to upset Tabito — don’t ask me what, because I don’t know — and it’s making me feel a bit out of sorts.”

“He’ll get over it. Why’re you worried? This isn’t unusual. He’s mad at me half of the time. If I felt out of sorts every time he threw a tantrum about something, I’d never feel in sorts,” she said.

“But he hardly ever gets mad at me,” you said.

“Right,” she said, her eyes glimmering. “I forgot the two of you were like that. Hm. I still think you shouldn’t worry too much. If he’s actually mad, which I honestly doubt, then he’ll get over it quickly enough. He’s not capable of staying angry at you for any length of time.”

“If you say so,” you said. “Let’s not talk about it anymore. We need to celebrate you finally saying yes to a guy that asked you out!”

Yayoi blushed but nodded. “Should we go for drinks?”

“It is a Tuesday,” you reminded her.

“Is that a no?” she said.

“It’s a yes,” you said.

“I knew I loved you for a reason,” she said.

“Just for that, you’re covering the tab,” you said. She winked at you.

“Already planning on it!”

The end of your time at university came almost as soon as the beginning had. It was bizarre, walking out of the familiar exam hall for the final time — you knew you had passed, and you already had a job lined up for you in a month’s time, so there wasn’t any cause to worry, and indeed you did not. You only felt odd and light, as if you were floating through the streets of Tokyo, ephemeral like an aluminum wrapper bouncing down the pavement in the wind.

Neither Yayoi nor Tabito could attend your graduation ceremony which was held that Friday; Yayoi had fallen deathly ill, so you had enlisted Yukimiya in keeping her at home, lest she sneak out and kill herself by trying to support you, and as for Tabito, he happened to have a final exam held at exactly the time of the ceremony, which meant he was automatically excluded from attending.

Your parents, as well as both sets of your grandparents, were in the audience, but it wasn’t the same. You couldn’t help yourself from searching for the Karasus, for Tabito in particular, but no matter how hard you searched, it didn’t matter. They weren’t there. He wasn’t there.

When the president of your college, a portly woman with pin-curled hair and red lipstick, handed you your degree, you were hesitant in taking it. Your smile plastered on, you stared towards the door as your fingers inched towards the fancy paper. Any moment now. He’d burst through the door the way you had, and he’d see you, and he’d smile and then wave — it was like a tradition at this point, wasn’t it? It had to happen. He had to come. You knew he wouldn’t, but you couldn’t stop a foolish anticipation from brewing in you as you waited.

Your hands reached the certificate. You held it in front of you as the cameras went off, finally turning away from the door and grinning wider, resolving not to let it ruin your mood. After all, you had worked so hard to achieve this. Why did it matter who was in the audience? It could be an audience of none, and you’d still be happy. You’d still be proud, for no other reason than because you had done it, because all of your hours of studying and classes and homework had finally paid off.

You ate dinner with your family, and then you were invited to go out to a nearby bar by a few of your college friends. Seeing your parents and grandparents to the train station, you rushed back to your apartment to get ready for the night, entirely ready to let loose after what felt like several years’ worth of burdens had just been knocked from your shoulders.

The bar was packed with students from your school, all of whom had had much the same idea as you and your friends. The bartenders were rushing back and forth, sliding drinks out with as much speed as was humanly possible, and before long you were sipping on something fizzy and fruity that one of your friends had handed you.

At some point, one of your classmates, a boy who you had never known particularly well but recognized for his distinctive voice, which could be heard from all corners of the city when he got to bragging about his father’s salary, announced that the rest of the night’s drinks were on him. If you were his father, you’d be furious at the offer, but as you weren’t his father, you took advantage of it with impudence, downing glass after glass of whatever the bartender gave you.

Soon enough, the music and lighting, which you had found so charming and delightful earlier, began to pound at your head. The world spun, not unpleasantly but still in a disorienting manner, and you stumbled towards the door, pulling out your phone and singing to yourself as you decided who you wanted to call.

The cool air of the night was refreshing against your face, and you leaned against the brick wall of the establishment as you squinted at the blinding light of your phone’s screen. You could barely make out the dark characters which stood out on the white background, and eventually you gave up, switching to the keypad and using muscle memory to type in the number your fingers had long ago memorized.

He didn’t pick up until the last ring, and his voice was groggy when he spoke. In the back of your mind, you felt guilty, for you recognized that he must’ve been sleeping, but for the most part you were far too elated to hear him speaking, so you could not bring yourself to be too sorry.

“Hello? Y/N?”

“Tabito,” you said, your words slurring together, dragging out at the ends and trailing into soft breaths. “Tabito, you didn’t come to my graduation.”

He sounded a lot more alert when he spoke next, but he did not change the volume of his voice from that low murmur any. “I told you I couldn’t. I had an exam, remember?”

You sniffed, blinking rapidly. “Yeah, I remember.”

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t make it,” he said. “You know I would’ve been there if I could’ve.”

“Can you come now?” you said, your lower lip trembling.

“Come where?” he said. There was a muffled sound that you assumed was him rolling out of his bed, and then the soft padding noise of his footsteps.

“The bar,” you said. At this point, irrational tears were welling in your eyes. You weren’t even sad, but you couldn’t stop them from rolling down your cheeks, leaving scalding trails in their wake.

“Are you out with your friends? Why do you want me there? Aren’t you celebrating?” he said.

“I don’t know,” you said, and then you were hiccuping as you cried in earnest. “I don’t know, Tabito, I just want you to be here.”

“Okay, okay,” he soothed you. “I just left my apartment. Is it the bar you and Yayoi like to go to? The one by the grocery store?”

“Yes,” you said.

“I’ll be there in a couple of minutes, and then we can decide what to do from there. Does that sound good?” he said.

“Mhm,” you said. “Are you going really fast? Tabito, you play soccer, right?”

“I do play soccer,” he said, sounding equal parts amused and concerned. “You come to watch my games sometimes. I like when you do that.”

“That means you must be fast,” you said. “Mega fast. Mega extra fast.”

“I’m only a little fast. Most of my teammates are faster,” he said.

“Ah,” you said. “But will you still be here super soon?”

“Yes, I’ll be there super soon,” he promised.

“Can you talk on the phone and walk at the same time?” you asked him.

“Well, I’m doing it at the moment, so yes, I’d assume so. Why do you ask?” he said.

“Isn’t that illegal?” you said.

“No, that’s for when you’re driving,” he said.

“Oh,” you said. “You don’t do that, do you?”

“I take the train or walk most places, so I don’t even have the opportunity to,” he said.

“But if you had to drive, you wouldn’t, right? Right, right?” you said.

“Right,” he said. “I’m just around the corner, so I’m going to hang up. Are you outside?”

“Next to the door,” you said.

“Don’t move,” he instructed you, and then he ended the call.

Before you could begin to wail about the abandonment, he was rounding the corner, looking so haphazard that, had you any more presence of mind, you’d have made fun of him for it. His hair stuck up in every which direction, like it had when he was younger and didn’t know how to style it, and he wore nothing but a random t-shirt thrown over a pair of plaid pajama pants, his feet shoved into the black Crocs that Yayoi had bought him as a gag gift last Christmas.

“Y/N! There you are,” he said, his shoulders slumping in relief as he pulled you into his arms. “Look, I’m with you now. Are you happy?”

You giggled. The world still rotated on an unidentifiable axis, but the firmness of Tabito’s grip had a kind of stabilizing effect, holding you in place and together and in one piece.

“Hi, baby,” you said. “Yes. So happy.”

“Baby?” he repeated, and based on the way his skin warmed, he must’ve been blushing.

“Look,” you said, reaching up so that you could play with the ends of his hair. “It’s like when you were a baby. When you were just little baby Tabito. That’s when I met you, you know.”

“I see,” he said, and there was a distinct yet inexplicable despondency to the way that the corners of his eyes crinkled and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “Do you want to go home now?”

“I wanna be with you,” you said.

“That’s fine,” he said, so patiently and tenderly that your head grew fuzzier and fuzzier with every word he spoke. “I’ll stay with you either way, but I think we should probably head back. How much have you had to drink?”

“Um…” you tried to recount what you had ingested, but it was all a blur. “I don’t remember.”

He rubbed the back of his hand against your cheek. “Let’s go home, then. You definitely shouldn’t have any more. Will you be alright if I go inside and tell your friends I’m taking you back?”

“Do you have to?” you said, catching his sleeve and holding it in between your hands. “Why can’t we just leave?”

“They’ll worry about you,” he said, prying your fingers off with the utmost of delicacy. “If you leave without letting them know, they might think something bad happened. I’ll explain what’s going on so they aren’t scared, and then we can head out. Does that make sense?”

“Hmm,” you said. “Only because you say so.”

He chuckled slightly. “That’s good. I’ll be back before you know it.”

You counted the seconds that he was gone, and before you reached the seventy-fifth, he was already back, his face flushed from the heat of the bar, his hair even wilder than earlier from the sweat and the humidity, a dusty footprint on his right shoe where someone must’ve accidentally stepped on him.

“I was expecting to have to convince them to let you go with me, but they were all alright with it,” he said, carefully taking your hand and leading you in the direction of the apartment.

“Sure they were,” you said, tripping over a loose stone, only avoiding face-planting because Tabito caught you with the reflexes of an athlete. “It’s because I talk about you so much.”

“Do you?” he said.

“Totally,” you said with a yawn. “All of my friends know about you and your soccer and your studies. I’m just soooo proud of you, so I mention it whenever you do something cool. Isn’t that what a normal elder-sister-figure would do?”

“Yayoi doesn’t,” he said.

“Yayoi is Yayoi,” you said.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he said. “And it doesn’t change what I said.”

“Can you carry me?” you said when you almost stumbled and fell for the second time. “Tabito, it’s hard to walk, so can I please ride on your back the rest of the way?”

He exhaled but crouched, beckoning you forward. “If you really want.”

“Yay!” you said, leaping onto his broad back and clinging to his neck, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he supported you while continuing to walk. “You’re so big now. When did that happen? Have you always been like this? It’s almost as if you’re nearer to being a man than a child, but that’s impossible. You’re still young, aren’t you?”

“It’s not impossible; in fact, it’s the truth,” he said. “If only you ever looked at me and saw me for who I am, you’d have realized I’ve been like this for quite a while now.”

“What do you mean?” you said, resting your chin on his shoulder, closing your eyes, allowing the rhythm of his walk to lull you into a trance.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Forget about it. We’re almost there. Are your keys in your purse?”

“Yup,” you said. “D’you want them now?”

“I’ll get them from you once we’re at the door,” he said. “Good thing you don’t have a roommate; I’m sure they’d be pissed off by you coming back so late, drunk out of your mind and with a random guy in tow.”

“You’re not a random guy,” you said, dropping the key to the complex in his waiting hand once the two of you reached the glass gate to the building. “If I had a roommate, they’d definitely know who you are. How could they not? You’re my Tabito.”

“Since when I have been your Tabito?” he said, unlocking the door and flicking your chin up playfully before returning his hand to holding up your leg. “I don’t think that I am.”

“Since always,” you said.

“Really? And does that mean you’re my Y/N?” he said, bending down so you could press the elevator button to take you to your floor.

“Yes,” you said. “For six years I did not know it, but ever since then I have been yours.”

“Well,” he said. “Is that how it is?”

“It is,” you said. He switched the lights in your apartment on and deposited you on the couch, heading to your kitchen and filling up a glass with water. Handing it to you, he sat at your side, bringing it to your lips so you could drink, not taking it away until you had drained the cup.

“Feeling better?” he said. “I’ll get you some crackers to eat.”

“Much better,” you said, chewing on the crackers while laying your head on his shoulder. “My stomach isn’t so queasy, and my vision is a lot more straight.”

“You’re talking more normally, too,” he noted. “At least, you sound a bit comprehensible. Want more water?”

“No,” you said. “I’m sleepy. Can we go to sleep now?”

“Here?” he said. “How about you change into your pajamas and wash your face first?”

“I’m too tired,” you said, yawning yet again to emphasize the point, nuzzling your face against the curve of his neck, your eyelashes crushing against his throat. “You’re so comfortable.”

“Thank you,” he said, patting you atop the head. “But you’ll feel horrible tomorrow morning if you don’t get in bed properly.”

“I’ll feel horrible either way,” you said. “I can’t do anything. We were partying for so long, and now I’m exhausted.”

“That’s true, but you’ll feel worse if you sleep here instead of in your room,” he said. “How about I help you?”

“You’ll help me?” you said.

“If you change your clothes, I’ll do everything else,” he promised, gently pushing you off of him and then standing so he could help you to your feet. “I just don’t want you to feel sick tomorrow, be all cramped up from sleeping in a weird spot, and get a break out on top of that.”

“I guess that’s fine,” you said with a dramatic exhale. “You’re so…so…what’s the word? You’re so persistent. Stubborn. Something like that.”

“People say that a lot,” he said.

“They call you an asshole a lot, too,” you said. “All of the time.”

“Yes,” he said, walking with you to your room, where your pajamas were folded at the foot of your bed. “I think I am one, at least a little bit. It’s impossible for me to be otherwise around mediocre people. I try to fix it, but it’s hard, you know.”

“I don’t think you are,” you said. “You’re the nicest person in the whole entire world. If you were an asshole, you wouldn’t treat me the way you do, but you do, which means you aren’t.”

“That’s because you’re special,” he said after a pause. “To me. And also in general.”

“What do you mean by that?” you said, but when you turned around, he had shut the door between you two, allowing you to change your clothes and him to avoid the question.

Only the thought of disappointing Tabito was enough to convince you to not collapse onto your inviting bed. Instead, you trudged towards the door, opening it and pouting at him, trying to beg with your eyes for him to allow you to go to sleep.

“Good job,” he said, ignoring your silent pleas and dragging you to the bathroom, where he sat you down on the edge of the bathtub. “Is this your makeup remover?”

He showed you the little tub of cold cream you kept next to your sink. You mumbled something generally affirmative, and he unscrewed it, kneeling beside you and massaging it onto your face, paying extra attention to your eyes, which was where most of your makeup was concentrated.

“Who taught you about all of this stuff?” you said, your eyes screwed shut as he used a clean, wet washcloth to remove the cleanser from your skin. “Do you have a secret girlfriend?”

“No girlfriends, secret or otherwise,” he said. “It’s all stuff Yayoi made me learn on pain of death. She refused to have a brother who didn’t know anything about proper skincare. It’s not like I do it all that much, but I’m aware of it thanks to her.”

“You’ve really never had a girlfriend?” you said. You supposed you had always been aware of that, but you had never really comprehended what it meant. How could it be that Tabito Karasu of all people had never even gone on a date?

“Nope,” he said. “Can I use this moisturizer on you? I’m sure you have a better routine normally, but it’ll probably be for the best if we skip steps for the sake of getting this done quickly.”

You cracked your eyes open and then nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine. Why?”

“Why what?” he said. The lotion was cold at first, but the circular motions of his fingers on your cheeks warmed it quickly enough that you didn’t even have time to be shocked by the temperature. It was soothing, a tingly sensation washing over you as he worked.

“Why haven’t you had a girlfriend?” you said, his fingertips gliding over your forehead.

“I guess I haven’t found the right person yet,” he said. “Or, no, that’s not it. I have found them. I found them a long time ago, but I don’t — I don’t think they wanted to be found. Not by me.”

“That can’t be true,” you said. “What kind of person wouldn’t want you? Who are you talking about, anyways?”

His thumb swiped over your lips, once and then twice, before coming to rest where they slightly parted. You waited, thinking he might move it, but he did not.

“What will it take?” he said. “For you to stop thinking of me as a child. What more can I do? Name it and I will. If it means you’ll stop thinking of me as your little brother, then I’ll do anything.”

“How else would I think of you?” you said. “You are like my—”

“Please,” he said, and it had been so very many years since you had heard him so distraught that you quieted immediately. “Please stop it. I don’t think of you like that, I don’t love you like that, so please stop it.”

Before you could respond, his mouth replaced his thumb against your own, and he was kissing you, cradling your head in his hands, his ardor winning out over his inexperience as he tried to impress upon you just how much he had wanted you, and for how long.

Unfathomably and without even realizing, you found yourself kissing him back, enjoying every demand he made of you and responding to them each in kind. Your hands wound around his neck and tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging on the silky, feathery strands, drawing a small whimper out of him as he wedged himself impossibly closer to you. Yet the sound broke you out of whatever daze you had fallen into, so, with a gasp, you ripped yourself away from him, resting your forehead at the dip of his collarbone as you tried to catch your breath.

“No,” you said. “No, I shouldn’t have — we shouldn’t have — you have to go.”

“Why not?” he said. “You said you shouldn’t have, but you did. Why do you wish you hadn’t?”

“You have to leave,” you said, and then you were crying again, soaking his shirt with your tears as the weight of what you had done began to smother you.

“Let go of me first,” he said. Your fingers, still in his hair, flexed but did not loosen. “Y/N. If you really want me to go, I’ll go, but you have to — you have to let go of me first. You have to be the one to do it.”

You wept harder, because you did not know how to let go of him, because you could not fathom doing it, but neither did you want him to let you go first. It was shameful and wrong, but the truth was that, more than anything, you wished for him to stay, to blot away your tears and lay you in your bed so you could sleep the entire night away.

Somehow, you found the strength in you to yank yourself away from him, all in one go. The moment they left him, it was as if your fingertips themselves mourned, aching to return to their rightful place, but instead of obliging, you used them to cover your eyes. Anything to avoid looking at him. Anything to avoid seeing the anguished expression that most certainly marred his features. Anything to avoid knowing that you were the one who had caused it.

You didn’t look up again until you heard the front door close, and then it was all you could do to turn off the bathroom lights and make it to your bed, crashing into the pillows and somehow managing to fall asleep.

As soon as Yayoi was feeling back to her usual self, you sent her a cryptic text essentially commanding her to meet you at your usual spot for food whenever she could. Thankfully, she recognized when you were having an actual problem versus when you just missed her, and she told you she was free that very evening, so you didn’t have to simmer in your thoughts for any longer than you already had.

“Your brother kissed me,” you said when you sat down across from her.

“Hello to you, too,” she said, closing her menu and setting it to the side. She had only even looked at it as a formality; both of you ordered the same thing every time, so opening the menu was meaningless at this point.

“Hello, Yayoi,” you said. “Tabito kissed me.”

“That’s what you wanted to talk about?” she guessed.

“Yes,” you said. “It happened the other night. I would’ve called you earlier, but you were sick, so I didn’t want to.”

“Alright. It’s a little awkward for me, considering he’s my brother and all, but I’ll set aside my biases and do my best. How do you feel right now?”

“I have no idea. How do you feel?” you said, perplexed by the lack of reaction she was displaying.

“Why would I feel anything?” she said.

“Because? Your best friend just told you that your little brother kissed her? Aren’t you mad?” you said.

“Not really,” she said. “I’m surprised it took him this long, honestly. Everyone knows he’s been in love with you for ages.”

“Everyone?” you said.

“Everyone,” she agreed. “Most of our friends, all of my family, both of your parents…he hasn’t really tried too hard to hide it. I’m pretty sure most of them think you like him, too, but I don’t want to make assumptions, which is why I’m asking you how you feel about it all.”

“How did I miss it?” you said. “I didn’t realize right up until — well, you know — that he liked me, let alone for so long.”

“Sometimes people only see what they think they see,” she said. “You thought Tabito would never like you, so that’s what you believed. But he could, and he did. Now what?”

“Now nothing!” you said. “What am I supposed to do, date him? That’s just wrong!”

“Why is it wrong?” she said. “By the way, I’m not all too invested in any particular outcome, just as long as you’re happy, so don’t think I’m trying to steer you towards any specific path. I just want you to be fully honest with yourself before you jump to making decisions about any of this.”

“Thanks,” you said. “Okay, well, first off, he’s your — you, as in my best friend — little brother.”

“Not yours, though,” she said.

“But as good as,” you said.

“I wouldn’t say so. You’ve never treated him like a sibling,” she said. “That’s not to say you don’t care about him, but it’s in a different way than a sister would.”

“He’s also younger than me,” you said.

“Yukimiya’s younger than I am, and we’re perfectly happy. Plus, you were the first to say that there weren’t any issues with that, so why’s it a problem now?” she said, raising an eyebrow at you.

“But that’s — that’s different! You met him only recently. I’ve known Tabito since we were little kids! Doesn’t that make it weird?” you said.

“People get married to their childhood friends all of the time. It’s not that unusual,” Yayoi said. “Is there anything else?”

“No, it’s just strange, that’s all!” you said. “You seriously don’t find it even a little odd?”

“I’ve had a lot longer to adjust to it than you have,” she said with a shrug, sipping on the soda she had ordered with her meal. “Let’s approach this in a different way. What about if you both were the same age, and you met later in life? In a university lecture or something. If that was the case, and he asked you out, would you say yes?”

“Absolutely,” you said without hesitation. “That was a stupid question. Who would say no? He’s smart, he’s good at pretty much everything, he’s sweet and funny and caring; additionally, from an objective standpoint, he’s incredibly attractive. I’d do everything I could to keep him if he happened to glance my way.”

“Even if he ended up being younger than you?” Yayoi said.

“Yes,” you said. “Yes, I — oh.”

She gave you a dull look. “Just so you know, that is not a sisterly way to view a guy.”

“I got that,” you said.

“Do you think maybe it’s possible that you’ve loved him too, almost the entire time?” she said. “Maybe even before you understood what it meant to love someone else? Back when sibling was the closest relationship to another kid that you, as an only child, could conceive of?”

“I guess that that — that’s definitely a possibility,” you said.

“It could be,” she said. “And then the notion of him being your ‘brother’ became so set in your mind that you couldn’t possibly think of him as anything else.”

“There’s a chance that that was what happened,” you said slowly. “But I don’t feel what I did for Aoyama when I look at Tabito. It’s something else entirely.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t love Tabito,” Yayoi said, flagging down the waiter so you could pay for your food. “It just means you didn’t love Aoyama, or didn’t love him as much. Considering which one is still in your life and which one you haven’t spoken to in years, it’s not unlikely.”

“What do I do now, then?” you said.

“What do you want to do?” she said as the two of you exited the restaurant. “I’ll be your friend no matter what. In the end, it’s up to you.”

“I don’t want to lose him,” you said, suddenly terrified. “I won’t survive if I do. Yayoi, I don’t…”

“You can’t,” she reassured you. “If you haven’t lost him yet, then I don’t think it’s possible for you to. But you know, then, right? What’s next?”

“I do,” you said, taking out your phone and picking up speed, veering in a different direction, turning over your shoulder to shout back at her. “Thank you, Yayoi!”

“Good luck!” she shouted back as you took off at a run, holding your phone up to your ear.

“Otoya,” you said breathlessly, as soon as he picked up. “Otoya, is Tabito there?”

“Uh, Y/N? Yeah, Karasu’s cooking dinner, why?” he said. “You good?”

“I’m coming over,” you said. “Make sure he doesn’t go anywhere, and buzz me in when I get there. This is me calling in that favor you owe me, so do a good fucking job at it, okay?”

“Sure, I can, but why don’t you just ask him to do it directly?” he said.

“I don’t think he’ll pick up if I call him at the moment,” you said.

“Trouble in paradise? This is why I don’t do the whole ‘commitment’ gig. Too many complications,” Otoya said with a scoff. “Fine, I’ll help you, but only because — like you said — I owe you one, and because I’m going to evacuate the apartment as soon as you get here so I’m not caught in the crossfire.”

“Thank you,” you said. “That’s perfect. You rock.”

“Yup, you got it. See you.”

The elevator took too long, so after waiting for thirty seconds, you gave up and went for the stairs, taking them two at a time until you reached the floor that Tabito and Otoya lived on. Then you knocked on the door, waiting with crossed arms until it swung open and revealed Otoya, dressed in a pair of rubber-ducky boxers and nothing more.

“Well, that’s my cue,” he said when he saw it was you.

“Where are you even going to go, dressed like that?” you said, momentarily distracted by the outfit, which was all but offensive to the eye. Otoya winked at you.

“There’s plenty of people in this complex that would welcome me dressed like this,” he said, walking out with a devilish grin. “I’ll go see one of them.”

“You have fun,” you said, unable to do anything but shake your head at the rakish response.

“I definitely will. You…do your best with Karasu. He’s been kinda down, so it’d be great if you could fix him right up again, because his pasta tastes shitty when he’s in a bad mood,” he said, saluting at you before vanishing into the closing elevator.

“Who was at the door?” Tabito said. He wore the pale green apron with white polka dots you had loaned him and never asked for back, and there was a wooden spoon in his right hand, which he used to stir a pot of sauce. “Hello? Otoya? Was it one of your exes again or something? Dude, you’ve gotta stop giving them our address, this is the third time this month that some girl has come to harass you.”

You were still for a moment, standing in the doorway, watching the muscles of his back tighten and then relax as he finished mixing the sauce, setting the spoon down on its stand and putting the lid back on the pot.

“Damn, silent treatment? Was it that bad? It’s your own fault, you dumbass,” he said. “It’s not like I tell you to bring them over. You do that all on your own, and these are the consequences you face as a result. Don’t blame me for it.”

What would you even tell him? He turned the stove to simmer, and you opened your mouth before closing it. You had no idea what to say. You had no idea what was even going on in your mind — you had left Yayoi with such an urgency that you hadn’t had the time to organize your thoughts as you would’ve liked to before such an important moment.

He turned around while untying his apron, his mouth curved into a sneer as he prepared to taunt who he must’ve thought was Otoya messing with him. Yet when he realized it was you, his face fell, as if just by standing there you had reprimanded him harshly.

“Y/N,” he said. You wondered how he could do it, how he could bear to still say your name with the same affection as always. Why hadn’t he left you? Why hadn’t he given up a long time ago? What had you ever done to be worthy of this kind of loyalty? What had you ever done to deserve a person like him?

A lump swelled in your throat, and the harder you tried to swallow it down, the more your eyesight prickled and blurred, until you could hardly see anything at all. For a second you were frozen, and then vaguely you were aware of him taking a step towards you and your inhibitions were lost entirely.

Crossing the expanse of the small kitchen and casting yourself into his embrace, you clung to his neck, crying in earnest when he held onto you as if by instinct, because the way he clutched your waist felt like coming home. He felt like coming home. He felt like butterflies in the spring and leaves in the fall and ice cream in the summer and storms in the winter and every other little thing from your life which you could only ever associate with him.

“I love you,” you said. “I’m sorry, I love you, I love you so much I didn’t even realize it but I do now, I do, and I can finally see that I love you more than anything or anyone, Tabito, so please still love me back, please—”

“Shh,” he murmured, one of his hands moving up and down your back. “Don’t cry. There’s no reason to cry. Y/N, Y/N, don’t cry, I hate it when you cry.”

“I’m sorry,” you said again. “I was such a fool. I didn’t comprehend it, any of it, because I’ve loved you since before I understood what the word love meant.”

He kissed your forehead, your cheeks, the tip of your nose, over and over until your tears abated, and only then did he speak.

“I’ve loved you for longer,” he said. “I loved you before I even knew you.”

“And do you still?” you said.

“Yes,” he said. “I couldn’t stop so quickly.”

“Don’t ever stop,” you said. “But if you do, if you must, then keep it to yourself. I want to at least imagine that you’ll keep loving me for — for a long time.

“Oh, Y/N,” he said. “You don’t have to imagine that. I’ll love you forever if you want it.”

“I do,” you said. “I do want it.”

His lips ghosted along your temple as he smiled. Then, right before they fit against your own, he murmured: “Then that’s what I’ll do.”

Though you had neither reason nor proof, you found that, wholeheartedly and fully, with all that you were, you believed him.

[mrsoftthoughts]

We need to discuss all the implications of being a pregnant mortal in the Riordanverse when the baby you're carryingn is a greecoroman demigod

Because you can't look me dead in the eyes and tell me that that thing would be a normal pregnancy down any standards

I mean, there's a good chance that this it's only Rick forgetting about the math once again, but Sally's pregnancy should haven been either 3 months or between 11-14 months, and i feel like baby Percy would have wanted to stay there the longest possible because idk, just being comfy in his momma belly full of liquid

And i don't even want to think about being esperanza Valdez with a fetus capable of fuckin combust at any moment, beryl grace getting electroshocks everytime that Thalia kicked or anything that could happen with Maria di Angelo and her Two kids of the lord of the death

And Also exist the possibility that the mortal body isn't taking well having a interspecies fetus that maybe has a chance to act like ambrosia or nectar making that you feel like if you were burning from your insides because way too much Divinity too handle

And no, i'm not done yet, there's more.

A Demigod can be born troug a C-section without the Doctors seeing something that a mortal definitely shouldn't? Who knows how a Demigod looks when they still in the uterus, there's even a chance of them having a minor scale "real" form as their parents, a now the doctor is fuckin blind

And how many times some of the mortal parents being really freaked out about this and knowing that they can't keep the baby have tried to get an abortion, in the best case it would work and now everything is ok... But you can even abort a Demigod?? At least through mortal methods, because i feel like there's a pretty big chance that this doesn't work

There's also a chance of this doesn't looking like a pregnancy at all, being honest this born from my headcanon of the Apollo kids gestations being unnoticeable ( since that apollos reaction towards sally pregnancy was really weird) and that i already mentioned in a previous post, but what if there's also the chance of you being completely oblivious towards this and then BOOM !! Baby

And then we have that the possibilities are low but never zero for a "pregnancy" like the ones of Castor and Pollux and Helen and Clytemnestra happening nowadays ( If your don't know of what I'm talking about, I just have one thing to say: Eggs)

And ofc... That we shouldn't look away for the possibilities of Mpreg with mortals being the ones carrying the baby, the limit with weird things here is inexistent to this point ( I'm not talking about Darren Knowles here btw, unless that you pull out the trans!Darren headcanon it's obvious that the one that give birth to kayla was Apollo, not for being a god, but because this man is such a bottom)

As a summary: Don't get pregnant from a god. I think there's a chance of it being terrifying.

[bafvkun]

I just feel like talking about how deep Mikayu’s bound runs don’t mind me (HEAVY spoilers ahead).

Lets get this straight : i don’t care if you ship them or not (even if you would be a fool not to) but no one can deny that they’re literal soulmates and I’m gonna show you exactly why.

Yu and Mika were ALWAYS bound to find each other and reunite. I’m not saying that because I’m delusional it’s literally canon. Their relationship is as old as dinosaurs and once again : this is canon.

Yu (or should I say Mika but like whatever if you didn’t read the scans it would take an eternity to explain) was literally created for Mika. The sole purpose of his existence was to look after Mika and be his only friend. Since day one they were ment for each other.

They swore on every stars and defied fate itself that they will always found each other again no matter how many times they die or get taken away from the other in a way or another, no matter their race, age or era.

There I was talking about the first versions of them, but let’s talk about the main one, the one we all know in the anime and throughout the whole manga, Yuichiro and Mikaela Hyakuya.

Mika was the first one in this life to get Yu to open his heart, to make him accept his fate and push him to make the best of it. Yu was just a traumatized child that almost got killed by his own parents yet Mika made him feel like he belonged somewhere, he showed him that family wasn’t always meant to be bound with blood.

When Yu lost Mika it was like he lost all hopes, for the longest time Yu was suicidal, already from young age and this loss just made him feel so much worse. Yes the loss of his whole new family, including Akane and the kids was bad for him, but deep down what truly broke them was the loss of one another.

Years later they reunited, Mika like Yu both changed deeply because of their own experiences and yet their relationship stayed unchanged. Just the dynamic between them switched, Yu was now the one to convince Mika that he could trust his new family (Glenn and his own squad).

One day my mom told me « if when you reunite with a long lost friend and it feels like not even a day has passed, then it’s real friendship » and it’s been proven to me that this is true, Mikayu being yet another exemple of this.

As a vampire Mika doesn’t feel much anymore, it’s said loud and clear that turning into a vampire takes away from you any vulnerability, any love or lust. Yet Mika feels so vividly for Yu, it runs so much deeper than his own nature. His loyalty towards him is beyond any words could ever describe.

And it’s also so damn obvious how Mika is just so grumpy with anyone but smiles whenever Yu is around. He didn’t smile for anyone else than him throughout the manga, Yu is his literal everything, he is the only one that brings him peace and joy.

Now we skip forward a bit, Yu and Mika are in a deadly situation and against everything Mika dies. First let’s get the obvious out of the way, his last words were « Yu, I love you. ». I mean. There’s nothing more straightforward than that.

But then, when a vampire dies he becomes a demon, so of course Yu had to take him as his cursed weapon. So that’s exactly what he did, after so much struggle that I will pass here he finally got to talk with Mika and have a contract with him.

But the thing is when a vampire dies and becomes a demon he loses all his memories from his previous life, so Mika didn’t remember Yu at all. Yet, despite everything their bound didn’t die, quite the contrary. Even before they did the contract, so before Mika had access to Yu’s memories, there was still something inside him that screamed « that guy is important to me », even if he didn’t understand where it came from.

All the memories Mika had of Yu after that was again : from Yu’s own memories.

And what Mika saw broke him, the desire to die was so overwhelming even in his demon form he found himself speechless and hurt. He didn’t remember Yu but he knew that he was important to him more than he could ever tell. And he didn’t only see their memories together, he saw Yu’s whole life, the moment with his parents, the years they spent apart, Yu and Glenn’s relationship and his new family, he saw everything.

He swore his loyalty to him yet again, ready to do anything for him and face the end of the world hand in hand with him. And of course, even when he lost his memories Yu never once doubted him and that he would still follow him.

Now. I’ve been talking a lot about Mika’s love for Yu but what about the other way around ? Moving forward in the story again Glenn revealed something to Yu, his squad and Mika that left a dilemma hanging in the air. Yu had to chose between humanity and Mika. And what did he do ? He chose Mika, betraying not only Glenn, the man that save him physically and psychologically and that he respected the most in the world, not only his squad with who he shared ups and downs like a family but humanity itself for the survival of Mika.

If this doesn’t speak volumes to you I don’t know what will. Yu sacrificed EVERYTHING down to his own survival just to spend one more day with Mika. Now not only vampires, demons and angels were against him, but humanity too all for the sake of one man.

Both of them constantly put their whole life and universe on the line for the other and they always do it in a heartbeat, like any other decision would just be unthinkable.

They had so many discussions that made clear how deeply their feelings for one another go, no matter if you interpret it as brotherly or romantic love. They confessed to each other so many times how they can’t live without the other, how life is meaningless if the other isn’t around. How there’s not even a point in trying to live if it isn’t to face tomorrow together and how each other’s happiness is more important than anything else in the world.

Both of them held on solely for the other, both of them are still breathing and living their truth thanks to nothing else than one another.

Their love is so fucking beautiful and pure, it stayed untouched through generations and generations of them.

Mikayu is an amazing ship and anyone would be a fool to not read Seraoh of the end just to witness such utter and raw love.

[its-time-to-write]

masterlist

i figured it was time to make one. it's in order based on when i wrote it. please, please let me know if a link is broken/mislabeled!!

*82 fics*

All of these are Jamie Tartt x reader

dress

Jamie and Keeley buy you a dress for the benefit gala

three times 'cause i've waited my whole life

secret relationship to engagement

you're losing me

first kid

don't make this any harder

Jamie wants to take you to Brazil, you’re both idiots

would hit him in a heartbeat now

Your ex boyfriend is a footballer and also a douche

silent sleepers

Jamie contemplates your relationship on the team bus

what it is

Jamie is sick ft. Roy

don't go wasting your emotion

Secret relationship + you own a bookshop! Ft. Roy and Keeley

you know, you'll always know me

You’re a famous singer! Congrats!

i don't know how you keep smiling/i'm just choking almost constantly

Jamie’s dad is a douche

i'll still be right next to you my dear

Jamie is a dad

can't really say i'm enjoying it now

Yikes it’s a breakup fic, but happy endings only in this house

mine of you with me

Reader and Jamie go semi-public with their relationship

today's a day like any other

The Tartt family thru the years

there's orange juice in the kitchen

Oof ouch period cramps

i can't breathe without you

Nate kisses you w/o consent

damned if i do give a damn what people say

You’re a theater actress! How exciting!

island made of faith

People think Jamie’s dumb, and he’s not

take your time while you're mine

You’re Roy’s other sister ft. all the Kents

honey, i'll give you all my time

Vienna. Enough said.

feeling fragile can't you tell

Jamie gets hurt

wrote all your lines in the script in my mind

Oh no! Some girl kissed Jamie and it wasn’t you! + Colin as the bff

stick together like glitter

Babysitting Phoebe + angst

your mind is not your friend

Angst + comfort after you have a bad hookup

chasing shadows in a grocery line

You’re pretty sure you have a hot stalker

don’t go yet

Tee hee protective Jamie at a club

kicking myself to keep from crying

The morning after your mind is not your friend

i think we could do it if we tried

High school sweethearts reunited after 6 years🥺

i’m glad you exist

You and Jamie go to a wedding

send for me

BREAKING: shit day at work made better by local boyfriend

tell me where to put my love

day off = food + snuggles

bored

The longest angst I’ve ever written. Def not the best angst I’ve ever written.

would it be enough if i never gave you peace

you’ve got baby fever and your pretty sure it’s going to kill your brother

wishing on every one

You own a flower shop. It’s adorable.

lyrical eyes, indigo smile

Bea meets the team for the first time!

something to rely on

You storm the pitch and smooch your bf

flipped the script

Enemies to lovers slow burn (or maybe fast burn, idk)

i fancy you

London Boy by ms. T. Swift

you don’t want to know me

Jamie shows up at your door after s.1 Man City

you’re in the kitchen humming

Post-Mom City

family that i chose

For the child-free girlies!

never wanted you to hate me

Pt. 2 of you don’t want to know me

wonderstruck

BFF Keeley tells you to give her awful ex a chance

in love with an idea

idk it’s like a confession of love? kinda cute

sinking into your worn-out mattress

Touch-deprived therapist! reader

you’re a mansion with a view

just two footballers doing an England promo, nothing to see here

i know what i’m doing

Post-Roy/Jamie locker room hug after Man City

wonder what it’d be like

Jamie tries to win you back

if only love were true

You’re a single mom in dire need of a plus-one

i know now it’ll pass

It’s hard to love someone when you’ve been told you don’t deserve it

the way it goes

The Greyhounds are protective of Jamie

how to love being alive

Idk this one’s like whatever and also supes long

there is happiness

GEORGIE GEORGIE GEORGIE

it’s just wanderlust

Relationship soft launch

glitter on the floor

You like to knit. You also think you’re a comedian.

maybe tomorrow you’ll know

The “he’s a prick to everyone but her” trope

hustling for the good life

I swear this is my last chaptered fic

let’s fall in love for the night

Kent!reader is having a baby

soft hands hit the jagged ground

friends w/benefits

for you, there’ll be no more crying

anxiety at work + bf jamie

smile at me

there was only one bed!!!!

slow motion double vision in rose blush

happy b-day Jamie Tartt

half-moon eyes

it’s just a question!

can’t hear my thoughts (i cannot hear my thoughts)

I’m allowed to write what i want, ok???

here in my arms

more Kent!reader + a baby named George

coffee at midnight

prick coach wakes you up bc of your prick boyfriend

healing me fine

Just a lil engagement fic for ya

i don’t know anything

if you’re interested in Bea

right words at the right time

It’s a wedding fic

move fast and keep quiet

boxer!reader + smitten Jamie

not saying you’re in love with me

You meet over Bantr!!!

we could be so good

Jamie comforts you after a bad date

i hold it like a grudge

i don’t even know how to describe this one but u might cry

there for you

sick fic

before you go

physio!reader

you’ll probably date her

chronic illness + childhood friends. gotta love it

feel it burn

Gym anxiety

play it back

Old movies of bb Jamie

ours

Thanksgivinggggg

light in the hallway

MORE Kent!reader

stuck by you

Bad family + good Jamie = fic

please don’t be

five chapters of sadness that definitely isn’t based on personal experience

[bobbin-buckley]

Cairo Sweet Comfort Headcanons

Cairo Sweet x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, comfort, Cairo being manipulative, mentions of writing porn, R being sad, Mr. Miller

Requested

(This kinda became more of a Drabble than headcanons but it is a list of how she comforts reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cairo may have always been mean. Mean to anyone infact. But she never tries to be mean to you.

-For the longest time Cairo denied her feelings for you, saying they were wrong and that she was confused.

-Her feelings for you wouldn’t go away though, she pushed you away at a young age and you came back with a massive glow up. She fell even harder. Her new best friend Winnie tells her maybe you are the one instead of her professor, Mr. Miller.

-Ever since Mr. Miller brought up a madman’s love she’s been fascinated by how he described it. She felt things for him then. Winnie urged it on with how a older man’s pride is his sex, how he takes virginity well. It corrupted Cairo.

-You on the other hand, we’re jealous and disgusted at this. Irritated some old guy could manage to make her be so obsessed. You’re irritants caught Cairo’s eye, seeing how you’d challenge Miller during his lectures or how you’d send glares at him.

-Besides this. After all this, Cairo was certainly confused. She came to you, crying and claimed she wanted you. She needed you after Miller rejected her. Even if she lied to you and maybe even used you, you still took her back into your arms.

-Along the lines of becoming girlfriends, she’s been good about giving you the affection you should receive in a relationship. She tries to make you feel loved and cared for while you do the same for her

-There are moments where she just can’t take it anymore and bursts her anger out at you, calling you names, insulting you, making you feel bad about being with her

-It breaks your heart when she acts like this, though you let it slide most days when she does apologize. Which is rare…sadly

-As you being a wonderful girlfriend you’re always there for her. Giving her the chance to be in your open arms if she needs it, and she does come to you sometimes.

-She has a hard time opening up, too. She’s never really talked about herself, how she likes life, how she feels mentally and physically, or about her parents. Yet she’s opened that up to someone who didn’t even want her, Miller of all people. It made you rage.

-Although you gave Cairo time to talk to you, respected what was meant to be kept hidden. One thing that bothered you is that she’d always be in that journal of hers, writing god knows what. More porn? More fantasies with Miller? Talking shit about you? You never know and are afraid to ask

-Cairo is also a scary person. She’s always terrified you, even as a kid. Her threats always become real, she’s incredibly manipulative and can destroy you in a week. You prefer to keep off her bad side.

-One time you angered her so much she combusted and threatens she’d harm you. Physically too. It never happened luckily, that just says how much she cares for you without you even knowing it.

-And Cairo, could never ever ever harm you physically. Mentally, yeah probably. She can be selfish at times. But she never will hurt you physically, it would break her heart if she ever laid a hand on you.

-Let’s get into that category. If Cairo ever did harm you physically, wether it was a slap across the face, a shove or maybe even a punch. She’d have so much regret right after.

-There was a time she wasn’t having it. She slapped you, and dear god did it hurt. Left a red mark on your left cheek, making you hold back tears because you didn’t want to seem like a baby in front of her.

-“Wait, my love I didn’t mean it. I swear I didn’t mean it.” She’d say immediately after she’d regret it. Kissing you on the head if you let her, caressing the spot she smacked gently. She’s lay down with you and kiss you all over, explaining why she did that.

-She wouldn’t let harming you slide by her, ever.

-Now Mentally. It hurts, it honestly hurts worse being hurt on the inside rather than the outside sometimes. With Cairo having that ability to make someone so upset, it can hurt real bad. She broke Winnie’s heart, real bad. And if she did it to you it’d take time for her to regret it, depending on what you did or how she feels

-When you we’re both younger, she pushed you away because of her parents. They were strict, and when they had a fight with your parents they immediately blocked you out. But that didn’t stop you from seeing Cairo

-You went to her house, sneaking into her bedroom. She was found sobbing while trying to sleep, and it was late at night:

“Cairo?” You spoke above a whisper. She recognized your voice, sitting up as she looked over at you in shock. “What’re you doing here? My parents told you to stay away.” She cried, hiding her face. “And don’t look at me, I look awful.”

Cairo wasn’t an ugly crier at all, she just hated crying in front of people. “Cai, just because you’re parents push me away doesn’t mean I won’t stop seeing you.”

“Yeah well maybe that’s what’s best.”

Those words hit you like a truck going eighty miles per hour. Cairo never talked at you like that before, especially basically telling you to leave her. “But Cai, I can’t leave you. You’re my best friend, I love you.” You confessed. Though those words meant nothing to her then.

They do now

-Every time Cairo sees you with those glistening eyes, filled with tears she always thinks of that night. That night she told you to leave. To never come back. And it hurt her when you listened, but she never came to you when it hurt.

-Because that’s who she is, how she’s always been. She hated sharing her feelings, the only way she would share her feelings, is by making people suffer with her. That’s how she did it with Winnie, Mr. Miller. You.

“I don’t understand, why can’t you just talk to me?” You asked, standing in the middle of her bedroom.

“Because I don’t want you to know. It’s something I keep to myself.” She replied, her left hand holding her journal, and the other with a pen.

“But why? You can talk to me, if you don’t talk to me maybe counseling is better off to help you.” She scoffed at your words, she’d rather vent to a beetle than a therapist or a counselor.

“I write in my journal, that’s where my story goes.” Well that makes you relieved. She isn’t talking shit about you or writing about her fantasies with someone else.

“I understand, but I’m here for you. We’ve been together for six months, and I am still waiting to hear your voice even if it sounds broken when you speak.”

Cairo though to herself. She knew how much she was hurting you mentally by not talking to you, telling you she was either okay or not okay.

“If you can at least tell me if you are okay or not okay. That’s fine.” You pause, “I love you, Cairo. You’re the moon to my Saturn.” Tears were running down your face. “And it hurts, hurts knowing how I think I’m not good enough for you. If it’s my fault that you’re scared. I’m scared too, Cai.”

It was silent, but only for a moment.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” Cairo sobbed, “I just don’t want to push you away. I love you too, I love you so much. And all the bad things I’ve done, have made me stop talking about them or my problems.”

-That very day Cairo opened up to you. You held her the entire time, comforting her, rubbing her back, kissing her tears away. Telling her it’s okay to not be okay. She talked to you slowly about things, only opening so much and you kept that respect.

-You gave her one big kiss after each session. You were her lover, her therapist, her best friend, her girlfriend, her future wife, her everything. She loves you. But sometimes love is hard to show when you’ve had a broken heart for quite some time.

-Most nights were kept peaceful, sad, private and loving. Wether it’d end with promise kisses or making love.

-Her comfort is nothing but a song that started as a melody and become stronger as you promise to be there for her. As well as she’d return it.

-Maybe replace that all with a madwoman’s love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I really hope this is good because I felt like I did fast, I even reread it over and over to make sure I got everything I could possibly put in 😭

But I was also emotional making this, I got way to into it

I also had more time than I thought I would lmao

@btbubuini

[cindylouwhooo]

Chapter One

Gigi’ POV

There’s something about the spring breeze that instantly calms me.

Well, it usually does.

Now I’m just a ball of anxiety, counting down the seconds until I explode.

I’ve been in the studio for the past three days, wasting the time of my producer and assistant during the day, and getting no sleep while twiddling my thumbs and kidding myself that I can write another album at night.

I thought building a recording studio in my Monaco apartment while I stay here would help me. It hasn’t. At all.

And now I’m standing on my balcony, staring out on the packs of people running around the streets trying to get the place ready for the Grand Prix, contemplating whether I could be a good driver—well, just enough to quit my singing career.

I don’t mind the category; I could do F4. F1 Academy too. I’m really simple.

I drop my head on my hand and groan, just when my phone starts ringing from my back pocket.

“What?”

“Tell me you’ve written something.” Ally, my agent, demands through the device.

“I’ve written something.”

“Okay.” She sighs out. “Now tell me the truth.”

“I’m thinking ways of becoming a Formula 4 driver. Do we still have Susie Wolf’s number?”

“Gigi.”

“Ally, I’m serious. I don’t think I have another one in me.”

Ally starts yapping about something, and I put her on speaker while opening Twitter on my phone.

gigimymother

@gigisantos GIRL!!! RECKLESS THREE YEAR ANNIVERSARY IS COMING!!!! WHEN’S THE NEW ONE????

santoslover

@gigisantos delulu is the solulu cause i still think Gigi is surprising us with a new album on Reckless anniversary…

—> gigifan girl be ffr she’s forgotten all about us

—> santoslover shut up

—> dannylovesgigi SAME!! i do also believe my ex is still in love with me sooooo

—> sandyford absolutely not, she is SO over…fame got to her and she thinks two mediocre albums are enough to stay rich 🤑

dannylovesgigi

y’all why’s the tl saying Gigi quit music???

“Were my albums mediocre?”

“G, get off Twitter for fuck’s sake and listen to what I’m saying.” I do as she says, mainly because I’m pretty sure she’ll fly from Toronto and strangle me if I don’t. “Time is ticking. And not in your favour. There’s so much i can do to keep you afloat.”

It’s the same speech. Over and over.

The same speech that I hear every time I pick up the phone from her call. The same speech that drove me away from Toronto and onto Monaco and the same speech that has drenched all the inspiration from me. I don’t have anything to write about, no words to turn into a song. And with every speech I hear, I don’t even want to try.

It’s draining. I hate it.

“Look, I know it’s difficult but you have to have something.”

I want to cry, I really do because her desperation is so evident in her voice. She believes in me too much and it’s gonna hurt when I disappoint her at the end of the summer.

The phone vibrates against my ear a couple of times and I take that chance to get out of the phone call with my doomed future.

“I gotta go, Ally. Something’s come up. I’ll call you later, okay?”

I end the call before she can butt in and let out the longest sigh in the history of the world. I see my best friend’s name on the screen of the phone and inevitably smile the biggest smile at the words on her text.

francis the king

you, me, alcohol 🍷

tonight

no is not a good enough answer

~ ~ ~

Strangely, the sweaty, already drunk people distantly surrounding our table made my mood quite quickly. Flashes of light spark every other second and I’ve become all too aware of the fact that it’s my first public viewing in a while.

My best friend is nursing on her drink while rolling her eyes at her boyfriend that’s on the phone with her, and I giggle at her facial expressions.

She’s incredibly in love, yet acts like Pierre is bothering her on a girl’s night out.

“Yes, I’ll call you at the end of our night…no we won’t call an UBER…okay, okay. Bye.” She ends the call abruptly and with the biggest, most dramatic sigh. “Okay, now we can start having fun.”

“I was already having fun.” I giggle.

Spending time with Francisca is honestly the only time I feel without the baggage of the third album looming over me. The bartender brings us the second round, and two extra shots on the house, accompanied with a wink for both of us.

“He’s cute.” Kika whisper-yells close to my ear over the loud music.

“Uh, oh. Trouble in paradise with Pierre?”

She rolls her eyes and slumps on my shoulder. “I meant you, dumbass.”

I know she did. But no.

It’s not like I’m cancelling love out of my life, but even entertaining the thought of going through the stages of finding someone and everything that happens after I’ve found someone decent, makes me want to hurl.

“The only man in my life is the imaginary one I created in the studio in order to spike my inspiration to write that damn album. His name is Tim.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Am not!”

“Shut up and drink.”

“Amen.”

~ ~ ~

Four rounds and five shots each later, we’re laughing at our lives and wiping the runny mascara that’s dripping on our cheeks. I don’t know what time it is but I can definitely feel the early stages of a good hangover that I’ll be having once I wake up.

But I wouldn’t change it for the world. Because four rounds and five shots later, I feel ten times better than I did when Ally called me earlier. And not because of the alcohol, but because Kika has lectured the insecurities out of me. She spent our girls night out talking to me and listening to me go on and on about my block and the expectations I’ve put for myself—I talked about shit I wouldn’t admit out loud.

At the end of the night, we’re clutching each other outside of the club and laughing so loud, heads are turning to look at us.

“Jesus, your boyfriend might be fast on track but he’s taking his sweet time getting here.” I pout and drop my head on Kika’s shoulder. “If I make a joke, like, ‘didn’t know you were as slow as your single seater’ will he cry?”

Kika laughs as she slips and grabs me tighter to not fall. “Yeah, he’ll probably cry.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Well, now I feel betrayed.” Pierre’s voice reaches us and Kika bounces off me to jump on him. He grabs her immediately and twirls her around, breaking my heart and making me the happiest person at the same time.

gigisantos …

gigisantos girls night was a success 🍷🍾🎉 @francisca.cgomez

Liked by landonorris, pierregasly and 893,409 more

gigiismother give us the new album!!!!!

santosloverrrr girl, get in the studio

pierregasly thank god i arrived in time

—> gigi @pierregasly shut up tripod

gigisantoslvr love her relationship with pierre 😍

f1fanlover why’s lando in the likes???

—> gigigigi because she’s friends with the drivers?

—> f1fanlover yea but they barely speak

francisca.cgomez my soulmate ❤️

As I drop my still clothed body on my bed, a million lyrics fly through my head. Melodies and words swirl in my alcohol infused mind, suffocating me at once and frustrating me as I forget one by one in the aftermath of a night out at the club.

~ ~ ~

[maybege]

A Helping Hand

Summary: When one more omega is in the group, the suppressants aren’t enough for everyone and you end up getting your heat for the first time since the outbreak. (Part of The Weight of The World AU)

Pairing: alpha!Boba Fett x fem!omega!Reader

Wordcount: 5.1k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: Modern AU, Zombie Apocalypse AU, A/B/O dynamics (scenting, heats, etc.), yearning, unrequited love (or is it?), a little bit of fluff, explicit sexual content, dry orgasm(?), pet names (princess, good girl, etc.), praise kink

Good morning everyone and happy weekend! I hope the summer is treating you well and that you are looking forward to the second half of this year. 🥰 It has been way too long since I delved into my love for Boba, so if you’re interested in a part two (perhaps he helps Reader out with her heat? 👀), let me know! I really hope that you enjoy this story and would be very very happy if you let me know what you think in a comment or a reblog!

Please note that “Sunshine” is essentially Reader from the Paz version but I had to give her a nickname somehow to make sure she is still part of this.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

When Charlie presented as an omega, everyone in the group knew you were fucked.

There was no better way to say it.

“We don’t have enough suppressants,” Paz said out loud what everybody knew already, “They are harder and harder to come by and the last pharmacy didn’t have any. Chants is already on half a dosage, I am not sure how we can stretch them more.”

“What’s that? Suppressants?”

Din turned to the little boy that had snuck his way into the conversation. “Something for grownups, buddy, c’mon let us talk in peace.”

You smiled when Grogu shrugged, completely unbothered, and returned to where he had been playing with Pan and Jarno.

Sometimes you envied the kids in your group for the semblance of innocence they could still afford to have. And then you felt bad because this was not the childhood you wanted for them. Stars, you knew about babies being born and the thought that this was the only kind of life they would ever get to know made your stomach hurt and your heart ache.

Yet, they did not have to deal with problems like you were now. The adults of the group had come together, standing together and saying nothing but muddling over the same thing. Deep down, you knew that there was only one solution and you were pretty sure that almost everyone had come to that conclusion.

Almost.

“Maybe I don’t need suppressants,” Charlie piped up, shifting nervously next to his mother, Bernie, “I could pass my heat just like that.”

“No, you can’t,” Briggs said flatly, the old man crossing his arms in front of his chest. He had not been here the longest, only joining the group a few months ago when Paz had found him and Sunshine fighting off a horde of zombies. But despite his recent status in the group, he had risen in rank quickly, his advice and opinion honoured by those you had chosen as unofficial leaders.

One of these leaders was Boba who was standing right across from you. Like Briggs, he had crossed his arms in front of his chest, his biceps bulging and you swallowed, trying to keep your staring as subtle as possible.

With the late summer now cooling down, he had started to wear flannel again and you were a little embarrassed to admit that fall had not only become your favourite season because of the harvests you could make but also because you got to see the alpha stroll around with rolled up sleeves.

Trying your best not to look too long at him, you glanced back at Charlie.

“But what if I –“

“Charlie, dear,” Moira piped up, her voice gentle and kind. It was the same voice she had used to comfort Bernie this morning after she had made the discovery that her son’s scent was not as beta-like as she had hoped. “Briggs is right,” the older woman explained, “You will need your suppressants more than anyone else in this group.”

More than you.

You swallowed heavily, trying to get enough oxygen into your lungs to fool your heart into believing that you were not about to have a full-blown panic attack.

Charlie’s light eyes met yours and you knew him well enough to know that he was feeling the same way.

“Come on, Charlie,” you heard yourself say, stepping forward, “Let’s go for a walk.”

Everyone else let you pass without a word of protest and Paz nodded at you in approval. Bernie looked like she had about a thousand different things on her mind and you could not blame her. The outbreak was the least ideal place to be an omega – much less discover being an omega. And to see that your child had to be an omega in this cruel world? You could not imagine the pain she was going through.

The tree line was only a few steps away from where you had stood, the clearing only barely big enough for you to set up camp, and so it only took a few more steps until the thick trunks provided you with some privacy. With the summer nearing its end, the leaves filtered the sunlight a light gold and you took a moment to appreciate the pure beauty and peace of it.

In the last few years, there had not been enough moments like this.

You watched as Charlie started to pace from tree to tree, bouncing off them like the DVD logo on the sides of the screen. There were a lot of things you wanted to say, a lot of things you wanted to assure him of. But you also knew that he was not prone to listening right now and you could not blame him.

 “I don’t want to take your suppressants away from you,” the boy started, tears of anger running down his cheeks, “I – I don’t want to be an omega and I don’t want to have heats and I don’t want everyone to look at me like I am a fucking failure!”

His voice got louder and louder and in peak teenage fashion, he kicked his foot over the ground, sending a bunch of leaves up in the air and sailing down to the mossy floor.

Your brows rose in surprise.

“They are not my suppressants,” you corrected him gently, “They are for those in the group that need it most. And that is you.”

Charlie huffed, still not looking at you.

“It’s okay to be scared,” you said, “And it’s okay that you are unhappy with your presentation. Stars knew I always wanted to be a beta. But,” you stepped closer to him, “We don’t always get to choose what happens. And while it speaks to your character that you don’t want to put me in an uncomfortable situation, Briggs is right. Everyone is. You don’t know what a heat is like, especially your first one. It is too dangerous. At least I had mine already, I know what it is like.”

“That was years ago,” he protested, “Before the outbreak.”

“Yes, but it is still more experience than you have,” you added.

That seemed to get him thinking but he still did not look very happy. Deep down you knew it was not your fault that he was feeling this way or your responsibility to make him feel better. But you remembered how terrified you had been when you had your first heat and how terrified he must feel now.

“Look,” you took a deep breath, “We always knew that there would come a point where we have to choose who gets the suppressants. We were just lucky until now. Lucky that Chants has an implant and that Moira doesn’t get her heats anymore. And we got especially lucky when Sunshine mated with Paz before she could need them,” you said glancing over at where the giant man was gazing at his omega like she hung the stars in the sky.

The gaps in the trees afforded you the perfect view of the camp and when you saw the couple, so very in love with each other, something tugged at your heartstrings. You had never been interested in Paz that way but something you stung when you saw the way he looked at his mate. You wanted someone to look at you the way he looked at her.

You wanted someone to love you.

Charlie’s shaky breath snapped you out of your thoughts.           

“Anyway,” you sighed, putting your hand on his shoulders, “If you are feeling like you take the suppressants from me – you are not. I know what I am getting into.”

“I always thought I was going to be a beta,” the boy finally said, revealing the true reason for his upset, “Like mom … and like dad.”

Your heart ached.

“You’re not less like your parents just because your presentation is different,” you assured him, “You will always be their son.”

“I know but … I feel like I disappointed her,” his shoulders slumped, his head “Mom, I mean.”

“Oh honey,” you pulled him in for a hug, “She is not disappointed. She is just worried about you.”

He wrapped his arms around you and you pretended not to notice the way his body was shaking or how his hot tears soaked your shirt.

Minutes passed like this and you could see the birds flying in the crowns of the trees, the leaves and canopy shaking and throwing intricate patterns on the forest floor. You wished you could stay here forever, in this little, safe corner of the world that seemed so far away from everything that wanted to kill you.

But you knew you never stayed in a place too long and it would be time again soon to move somewhere else.

“Thank you for that,” Charlie mumbled and pulled away from you, “Can – Can I be alone for a bit?”

“Sure thing, kid,” you smiled, “Don’t stay too long or else Briggs will send a search party out.”

He nodded and you smiled before making your way back to the camp. The leaves crunched under your shoes and you spotted a little squirrel rushing its way up a tree.

Your head was spinning as you approached the group, the reality of the situation really sinking in. Then again, it really should not be a problem at all. There was no reason to be nervous. After all, you were in a somewhat protected environment and you were an adult. You should be able to face a heat alone. Right?

Everyone was busy doing something (your heart warmed at the sight of Grogu, Pan and Jarno listening completely enraptured to Moira and Briggs retelling a Shakespeare play) but you could not find it in yourself to join anyone.

“All good?” Chants asked you, looking up from where he was working on one of the cars with Din.

You nodded, “All good.”

There was no reason to tell him that you felt like your heart was about to explode from fear or that you could feel your palms get sweaty at the thought of stopping to take the pills immediately.

*

That night, the entire group sat by the fire, seeming like the issue from this morning was long forgotten. Briggs, Paz and Din were bowed over a map they had placed on the hood of Altarf’s truck, probably planning the safest route to take when it was time to change camps.

Altarf and Sluice had been on dinner duty today and the stew they made still sat warm in your belly. The night air had cooled down significantly so you had remained at your place by the fire, amicably chatting with Sunshine and Bernie. You could see Grogu and the kids playing in the dirt by some of the cars.

Chants and Moira were off collecting the hanging laundry of the day and you already looked forward to wearing some freshly washed clothes. 

How lucky you were that even years later you could all go to bed with a full stomach and the knowledge that you would wake up in the morning. Somewhat safe, somewhat sheltered, and surrounded by people who had become family.

“Wisconsin would take us right by Minneapolis,” Paz said, drawing a line with his finger. You smirked when you noticed how Sunshine immediately zoned out of the conversation, all her attention on her alpha.

“We are definitely not heading to Washington,” Din protested, “Heard that corner is a powder keg waiting to explode.”

“North, then?” Briggs asked, “If the tracks we found are anything to go by we would need to get a few days’ distance between us and here.”

Hearing them talk about moving camp made you anxious. When would your heat strike? Would you be so unlucky to have it while you were on the move? You had been on suppressant for so long that you hardly remembered what it felt like to go into heat. Would you really survive several hours in a car with your mind occupied with being fucked seven ways to Sunday?

“You okay?”

You flinched, looking up at the alpha that had just joined you.

“Boba,” you chided the man who gave you the hint of a smile.

He sat down next to you, the fire illuminating his features and you allowed yourself to look at him a little longer than usual.

Boba Fett was … He was …

Boba Fett was the kind of man you had dreamt about before the outbreak. And, to be honest, after the outbreak. The way he held himself so full of confidence and competence had always attracted you and you found that with each day that passed, you had another little thing you loved liked about him.

One day, it had been the way the crow’s feet on his eyes showed when he laughed. It was a rare sight but that made it all the more special, seeing him joke around with Din or Paz or one of the kids.

Another day, it had been exactly that: the way he was with the kids. At first, you had expected him to be a grumpy loner but there was a kindness there when he taught them about the dangers of weapons and made sure to show them to properly handle one if they ever came across a rifle.

Then there had been his hands. Stars, his hands. Thick long fingers and palms weathered from work. You knew he hadn’t been a mechanic like Din but that he had helped him out and he still did now, fixing cars and engines right and left in that week when all of your vehicles had started making problems, threatening to get you stuck in Northern Arizona.

That was another thing: his competence. It made you weak in the knees and your panties wet to see him be so knowledgeable about so many things. Sure, it started when you had seen him, hands greasy and white tank top stained, fix one of the trucks like it was nothing. But it had continued when he had disassembled and cleaned his guns and put them back together again like it was no big deal. Or that one night where you had crossed a group and had spent dinner together and one of them had a guitar. You remembered it like it was yesterday, the surprise on (almost) everyone’s faces when Boba had asked for the guitar and played a few songs for the group.

Another day it had been his jaw and the stubble that grew when he went a few days without shaving. You wondered what it would feel like on your neck or between your thighs and you woke up more than one morning, vivid dream memories in your minds of how he had scented you with a stubble jaw like that.

Yes, Boba Fett was the alpha that made your voice stutter, your heart race and your pussy feel so very empty. Only that you were too shy to ever do anything about it. With Paz and his mate, it had been obvious to everyone (except for them) that they were meant for one another and it had taken barely any time for them to figure it out, too.

But you and Boba … You had been part of this group almost for the entirety after the outbreak. If anything were to happen, it would have happened by now. You were sure of it.

Realizing that you had stared at him for a little too long, you cleared your throat and looked at the glowing ambers of the fire.

“You okay, Princess?” he asked you quietly, “You’ve been quiet today.”

“Oh, you know,” you shrugged, trying to ignore how that made your cheeks feel suspiciously hot, “Just thinking.”

“You’re worried about the suppressants, aren’t you?”

You did not say anything which, apparently, was confirmation enough.

“We won’t let anything happen to you,” he stated, calm and confident and it was so easy to just believe him when he continued, “You’ll be the safest you can ever be, omega. It will be over before you know it and then we can see if we can some more suppressants up in Wisconsin.”

“Charlie’ll need them,” you said, your hands fidgeting, “I won’t get suppressants any time soon, Boba, we both know it.”

When you turned your head to look at him, you were met with brown eyes gazing at you so intimately, it made you want to crawl right into his arms. It made you want to curl up in his lap, tuck your face into the crook of his neck and just breathe him in until everything was right again in the world.

He opened his mouth, ready to say something and you saw his hand twitch like he was about to reach out to you.

“Now now, what are we whisperin’ about?” Moira laughed, sitting down on your other side. Sluice and Chants were with her and you watched as Sunshine walked over to Paz, being greeted with a grin and a soft kiss.

“Nothing of importance,” Boba replied, still looking only at you but straightening up. Only now did you notice how close he had been, how his knee had brushed against yours, and now with him standing up, how it left you cold and alone. “I think I’ll head over to Din … get the details of the route we’re taking.”

You wanted to ask him to stay with you a little longer but your shyness made the words dry on your tongue and you watched him leave.

“Hey there, princess,” Sluice grinned, sidling up to you. You knew she was just teasing you. It was the running joke in the group that Boba kept calling you princess like it meant something.

Of course, it didn’t.

(But stars knew you really wanted it to.)

*

It took four days for you to notice that something was wrong.

There even was a moment where you had had the slightest hope that maybe you wouldn’t get your heat. That you had taken the suppressant for so long that your body has just decided to skip them altogether and make your life that much easier.

But of course, it didn’t.

It started with you feeling more restless than usual. Whereas the kids’ shenanigans previously amused you, they now surprised you. Even more so when they would jump from behind trees but fake scare you only for it to end up really scaring you. They laughed at first at your surprised squeal and the little jump backwards you made, good-natured as kids were, but by the fourth time it happened, a stern Boba rushed over, his hand on your back, and telling them off on how it was mean to keep scaring you like that.

Then your temperature rose. Only at night at first. Despite the evening cooling down and Chants getting, you kicked off your blanket more and more, wishing you could just take off all your clothes and bathe in a cool stream. Then it happened when people touched you. Altarf brushed your hand once when giving you a few dishes and it felt like your skin was on fire, making you flinch. The same happened with Paz, the big man frowning with concern when you jumped away from him when his hand landed on your shoulder.

(It didn’t happen with Boba. Or at least it didn’t happen like that with Boba. Boba’s touch caused a warm fire in your belly that spread outwards until your entire skin was gently tingling with the need to be touched by him. Which was perfectly normal, you tried to tell yourself.)

You flinched away not only from but from everyone who had not approached you loud enough or anyone who touched you. No, your clothes started to feel scratchy, ill-fitting and just way too thick. Sluice started to tease you about how you were always fiddling with the collar of your shirt, trying to get the cool late summer air onto your body.

Not to mention the smells.

Stars, the smells.

You had never really bothered with how the others smelled. Sure, you had been faintly aware of how Paz’s scent had changed when Sunshine had first joined and how they both had become more prominent. Or how Charlie, now having his own presentation, had gotten his own scent. Or how musky and woodsy and comfortable Boba smelled. But that was nothing compared to the stench they now all emitted – except for Boba.

It was like you could no longer stand being around them. The only people you tolerated were the kids and Bernie. But the person you sought out the most was Boba because he smelled divine.

If he noticed it, he did not show it but the important part was that you noticed. And you knew you didn’t have long until things would get serious for you.

Only that you had not expected it to get serious so soon.

The night was dark and quiet when you had snuck out of the truck. You tried to tell yourself it was because you could not sleep but deep down you knew it was because you were way too hot and even Chants – Chants! – started to reek so bad you could no longer spend even a minute in that truck with him.

You knew it wasn’t his fault. If anyone’s, it was yours. But so, you snuck out, into the cool night air that made your skin feel normal again and that was free of any stench because everyone was fast asleep in their cars. If you focused enough you could even hear Altarf’s snoring.

Being outside helped, you found, but as quickly as your body cooled down from the heat wave, just as quickly did it reach a temperature that had you shivering. Debating if you wanted to risk getting back to the truck to get you something warmer or if you could –

Your thoughts were interrupted by pain so bad it made you double over.

A split second of confusion gave way to the realization that you were starting your heat.

The muscles in your abdomen cramped up again and you gasped, falling to all fours as you tried to gather the strength to press your palm against your belly. The touch helped minder the pain a little but it also made you aware of how you were yearning to be touched.

You wanted to feel hands on you – in your – and your pussy to be filled and someone to sink his teeth into your neck and mark you his.

Who were you kidding you didn’t want someone, you wanted Boba.

Tears of frustration and fear stung in your eyes and you tried to even your breathing.

This was okay. Everything was okay. It was not the first time you had your heat and it would not be the last time and hell, if you had gotten through it before, you would get through it again. Didn’t matter if it felt like your body was burning up from the inside and the only thought that made it better (and then much worse) was that of an unattainable alpha claiming you.

“Shit,” you cursed, furiously wiping at your cheeks, “Shit shit shit shit!”

Someone’s shoes appeared in your field of vision.

It was none other than Boba.

A breeze rustled the trees and his scent filled your nose, sending a wave of calm through your body. Closing your eyes was involuntary but you did not mind because your body felt so much lighter now. It was like a weight had been lifted off your chest and you could breathe.

He smelled even better than before, the scent of pine wood and something you could not yet pinpoint driving you crazy. You could feel your temperature rising a few degrees and suddenly it all came rushing back to you. The frustration, the fear, the panic, the desire.

“You okay?” Boba asked, sounding very concerned.

You could not help the way your bottom lip trembled as you allowed yourself to admit that –

“No,” you breathed out, “I’m terrified, alpha.”

He sank down to his knees in front of you. Your eyes immediately fell to his crotch and you were ashamed to admit that the first thought you had was to reach out and undo his zipper, to try and see what he

Thick arms wrapped around you and pulled you out of your thoughts and into his chest. His body exuded warmth that yours had been missing and you relaxed into him. His hands were on the back of your neck and your lower back and his touch caused pure warmth in you. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, just like you had dreamt of, and breathed in his scent.

In a movement so small, you barely registered it, his nose brushed over your neck and you gasped softly.

“I know,” he said, his lips moving against your skin, “I know, princess, I can smell how scared you are.”

“What if I fuck it up?” you gasped into him, trying to hold the tears at bay. Your hands grasped at the back of his flannel, the fabric not feeling as repulsive as your own clothes, “What if – what if Chant can’t sleep because of me and we get attacked and he cannot defend himself and – and what if it is all my fault?”

A sob wrecked your body and you huddled closer to him.

For the longest moment, Boba did not say anything, merely holding you to him as you tried to gather yourself. Having him so close, with his hands on your body and your nose pressed against his neck, made it that much easier to calm down. You felt safe with him.

“You will sleep in my truck,” he stated, then, “I can bunk with Chants.”

“But – but –“

“Omega,” he interrupted you warmly and your mouth snapped shut, your brain short-circuiting at him calling you that, “You will have your heat, there is no question about it. You need rest and a safe place to nest and soft things. My truck has that and all the privacy you could desire.”

“Okay,” you nodded, swallowing back the tears that threatened to form in your eyes (again), “Thank you, alpha.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remembered that calling someone by their presentation was something intimate, something special. But it felt right, calling Boba that. Because if anyone was your alpha, it would be him. You could not imagine anyone else having the effect on you that he did. And you did not want anyone, except for him, to have that power.

His nose brushed over your scent gland again, this time right behind your ear, properly scenting you.

“Oh,” you whimpered, feeling a trickle of arousal gather in your panties. You clenched your thighs, he

Boba growled, his chest rumbling against yours, “Fuck, I’m sorry, omega, I shouldn’t have –“

He pulled away, ever so slightly, his hand cupping the side of your neck and the trickle became a wave when his rough fingertips brushed over the sensitive spot.

“No!” you protested quickly, a little too loudly, maybe, but you did not care if it meant you could have him scent you again, “Please … I – one more?”

The alpha in front of you froze and your eyes fluttered closed when his fingertips continued to caress your neck.

“You want me to scent you?” he asked and you were too far gone to notice if he sounded surprised. But what you did notice was how his thumb rubbed gentle circles onto your neck, how his eyes seemed a little darker in the light of the moon and how his scent seemed to get just a little bit stronger.

Shyly, you nodded, deciding to throw all caution into the wind. “Yes please, alpha.”

There was that rumble in his chest again, the one that made your pussy pulse and your thighs clench. But you could not even pretend not to be affected by his ministrations. Not when his nose, making your body break out in the best kind of shivers.

“That okay?” he asked against your neck and the fact that his lips were touching your skin now, the hint of his tongue peeking out again the patch of skin, made you almost feel blind with lust. “That feel good, princess?”

“Uh huh,” you brought out, tilting your head back so he had better access.

“Sweet little omega,” his lips grazed your ear before he moved his mouth back to where you needed it most, “Good little omega.”

His hand moved back to the back of your head, holding you against him and keeping you this and that way so he had the best angle to lavish your neck with attention. You allowed him to manoeuvre you as he needed, knowing instinctually that you would be rewarded in the best way.

And oh stars were you right about that.

“Smell so fucking good,” he grunted, his hips snapping against yours, “Bet you taste even better”.”

You did not know what made you come. His filthy words, the idea of his mouth, the feeling of his teeth on your skin, threatening to mark you or the outline of his hard cock against your flimsy sleep shorts, pressing right into your clit.

Maybe it was a combination of all of those things that had you stifling your moan against his neck and your vision going white. That had your pussy pulsing and clenching around nothing and your folds getting even wetter with your release.

You knew the first orgasm of a heat was the hardest to achieve. Which made it all the more surprising that it had been so easy with Boba. You were so stunned that you did not even have it in you to feel the slightest bit of shame at how needy you were. How you had just come undone in front of him like it was always meant to be.

“Good girl,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss behind your ear before gently untangling himself from you, “Feel better now?”

You nodded quietly, still reeling from what had happened but also feeling drunk on his pheromones.

“C’mon,” he murmured, his hands helping you stand up onto shaking legs, “Let’s get you into bed, sweet thing, wouldn’t want to keep you from your nest for too long.”

You could only hope that he would join you.

[ilovechuuy4]

˙∘ "Ah, what a lovely cake, babe!~" ∘˙

✰Osamu Dazai X GN!Reader✰

A/N; quite literally nobody asked for a dazai x reader but I've noticed since I've made my master list I don't have just a dazai fic along with just a chuuya fic BUT there is A LOT of chuuya x reader in my drafts so those will come soon!! I'm pretty sure this is the longest fic I made

→ Description; you and dazai decided to bake cakes! A quite messy and laced one at that.

Warnings; alcohol use (sneaking alcohol in the cake) and drinking wine

➥ Headcanons ⏤͟͟͞͞✰

→ Dazai is the one to sneak alcoholic drinks in to the cake/pastries/sweets y'all make.

→ Dazai is the one to take the frosting, dip his finger into it and smear the frosting on your nose like Rodolfo's nose.

→ He will make a mess no matter what, it's always possible and you can't avoid it, ingredients everywhere

→ Dazai is a literal child, he wants to lick the cake batter spoon, he doesn't care if there is raw eggs or not

→ When the cake is baking he's going to be OVERLY annoying because he has no patience whatsoever

→ This man is the most stupidest yet silliest known to kind, when decorating (his own cake) he's going to make little penises or inappropriate drawings on it

→ “Decorate appropriately" yea no, it's like yelling a kid to sit still and be quiet

→ The cake decorating is a contest for him for sure, he's going to sabotage you the best he can without ruining your cake, taking your frosting colors, candies that you're using, etc.

→ Christmas gal all the way, Christmas carols/music/dances/outfits/movies whatever, he loves it

Scenario!! ᯓ٭꙳˙∘

It was the middle of the day on a cool November day, there was a fire crackling in the living room, dazai and yourself in the kitchen with ingredients to bake a cake. Y'all had decided to to be creative and work on y'all’s culinary skills sense dazai was off work for holidays 'nd bored.

Soft hums were coming out the slim man’s mouth, who had an apron tied tightly around his waist, a cheeky smile on his face, his hands resting on his hips. “Alright! Let’s get this show on the rode!” You heard the brunette say excitedly, it was silly seeing him so happy over something like baking but also lovely.

Before this, Dazai had a bit too much wine so he wasn’t exactly sober. You had already grabbed the wet ingredients for the cakes, and dazai had grabbed the dry, store bought, cake mixes, all lied out on the counter top.

“Sure, sure. Let’s go this show on the rode” You mock with a soft smile, pouring the boxed cake batter into the metal bowl. You then crack the three eggs, but in this cake 6, since there is being to cakes made with the two boxes of cake mix y'all bought.

You then turn away to get a measuring up and get 2 cups of water. You heard a snicker from the brunette as you did. You weren't sure why nor did you see him pouring Lord knows how much whiskey into the cake.

You turn back and pour the two cups of water in, and then ⅓ vegetable oil. "What were you snickers about over here?" You say while giggling as well. "Oh nothing, babe. Don't worry!~" Dazai said with a cheeky smile, you knew he was up to something and it was obvious.

Y'all had already preheated the oven prior to this, 'nd now y'all have to mix, pour into pans, and then wait until it's done, let cool and ice! You take the whisk and start sturing the cake ingredients, while doing so, Dazai was getting into the frosting like a child.

Dazai had opened the white frosting, dipping his CLEAN fingertip in as it gets coated with the white, creamy icing. He sticks out his tongue, licking off the icing. "You know, this is OVERLY sweet" The brunette says, his gaze averting from the icing container, his deep brown eyes were looking into your e/c eyes.

"Ah, well that's the only kind they had, and isn't icing supposed to be overly sweet?" You had said, cocking and eyebrow as you continue mixing the cake batter. "Mhm, I suppose." He simply says as he dips his finger back in. "Honey, baby, babe, look at me!" He ugered, he really wanted you to look, even for a second.

You look over once more but before you could speak, you see Dazai reaching his icing covered finger tip towards your nose and smearing the icing on it. "Haha! Now you're Rodolfo but with a white nose!" He says his hands going back to his hips as a proud smile washes on his face, you couldn't help but smile.

"Ha, okay you Christmas obsesser" you scoff, and Dazai being the overly dramatic man he is, he jaw drops as he slaps a hand to his mouth, gasping obnoxiously as he does so. "Obsesser?! I am not obsessed!" He says with the most sassiest look on his face, holding back his giggles that were slowly tearing through the look of sassiness. "Cmon! Everyone knows you're obsessed on the holidays, Osamu! It's so easy to tell!" You start to laugh as Dazai turns away scoffing playfully.

Dazai huffs and the speaks, "Maybe a little, obsessed." He admits while turning to the Amazon Alexa y'all had placed in the kitchen for reasons like these. (cooking together) He walks over to it and whispers something as he turns up the Echo Dot to its max volume and soon, the entire kitchen is filled with Christmas music, specifically, All I Want For Christmas is You, by Maria Carey. You couldn't help but surpres laughs and giggles as you see our lover dancing and singing to the music.

"All I want for Christmassss~ isssssss~ youuuuuu!!" Dazai "sings" loudly, it was such good material to record but you didn't have your phone so it was a bit disappointing you couldnt record. You softly hum along to the song as you pour the cake batter into the cake pans. "Oo! Ooo!! Give me the spoon! I want to lick the batter spoon!" Your lover's eyes are like stars as you hand him the batter spoon.

Dazai starts licking the soon as he watches you put the cakes in the hot oven. "How long will it take?" He asks, still licking the spoon clean. "About 20-30 minutes? It just depends on the size of the pan if I'm honest with you, Honey, but since it's two 9 rounds maybe 22-27 minutes?" This wasn't a wild guess, but more of a precise guess. "Ughh, that's so long!" Dazai complained, nothing new though.

"Oh calm down, you listen to your Maria Carey and lick your batter spoon and before you know it, they will be done" You scoff softly, this makes Dazai huff and cross his arms as he finishes off licking the spoon. "Fine! But I think I'll annoy you instead" He says, smiling as he hugs you tightly, his arms around your waist and holds you close.

This goes on for a bit, dazai was poking, kissing, biting doing whatever to try to annoy you, but at the end of the day he wasn't sober so, you were fine with it. And soon, the timer for the cakes went off, you grab the oven mit and put it on, taking the cakes out from the oven, placing them on the stove top. A few minutes go by, Dazai was back to the casually bugging until y'all were able to frost the cakes.

"Okay okay, the cakes are ready to frost, you get one I get one, okay?" Dazai hums in response, looking extremely excited as he takes his icing bag and starts to work on his cake, you take yours as well and work on your own. You were glancing back and forth between your cake and Dazais face, humming softly to the Christmas music playing in the kitchen. You use your a smaller frosting tip to do more fine line details in the very detailed cake while dazai, seems to be doing something more since he is chucking up a storm.

You were making you and Dazai holding hands and dazai, well who knows? Because you didn't. You continue frosting your cake making everything the best it could be. "Done!" Dazai blurts with a smile, still snickering happily. You glance over and down at Dazais cake were there is a HIGHLY detailed cock, not a chicken, a cock, as in the male reproduction organ. Why was it so detailed? You didn't know but you just snicker a bit as you continue to work on your own.

"It's very, er, detailed?" You say, holding back a fit of laughter. "Yep! Based it off my own!~" He seemed so confident that it was funny, you put a hand over your mouth holding back your fits of laughter "O,oh yeah, really?" You choke out, it was hard to contain your giggles and snorts as they just fall out as you start to have a unbearable fit of laughter, which made Dazai start laughing too. A bit of tears from the uncontrollable fit start to form in your eyes as you catch your breath.

"Ha, Okay I'm done I'm done" you let out a sigh of relief as you quickly finish up your cake. Dazai comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around you. "Ah, What a lovely cake, babe~" He said, smiling happily as he saw the very detailed cake of the two of you holding hands.

He plants a soft kiss on your neck, and then your jawline moving up to your lips. Capturing your lips in a slow and loving kiss, you could taste the sweetness of the frosting and cake batter from earlier as you kissed back slowly. Dazai pulls back, smiling, "I love you babe"

[natlacentral]

Digital Cover: Dallas Liu

As a young actor in the entertainment industry, what inspired you to pursue acting, and how has your journey evolved since your debut?

My inspiration to pursue acting came from my time doing martial arts when I was a kid. Many of the martial artists I knew would pursue a career in stunts after their time in the competition world. A very small number of them would decide to pursue acting though. With my family’s support, I dove into acting without any hesitation because I felt I had nothing to lose as a kid. The biggest question I had for myself was, “Why not?” My journey has always been an uphill battle. After all, the entertainment industry will always be one of extreme difficulty. I will say that since my debut, the most important lesson I’ve learned is to not get upset and be too hard on myself over whatever I cannot control. As long as I’ve prepared myself in the best way possible and given my full effort in it all, I am able to somewhat relax a little bit. My journey has felt smoother since I’ve adopted that mindset.

You've taken on a variety of roles throughout your career. Is there a particular character or project that challenged you the most, and how did it impact your growth as an actor?

I would have to say Prince Zuko has definitely challenged me the most, because it was certainly the furthest I’ve been pushed to in terms of my emotional range on camera. The amount of time spent working on this project was also the longest in my career. I came out of the project an entirely different person. This role has made me a significantly better actor in so many different ways.

Could you provide some insights into the storyline of Netflix series Avatar: The Last Airbender without revealing any spoilers, and what makes this series unique?

As far as plot goes, we are certainly remaining faithful to the original storyline of the animated series, however, we do have some differences in our show that will hopefully give us a separate identity, especially for the people watching who are fans of the animated series. I think what makes this story unique is our storytelling. I feel that viewers will really fall in love with the characters, the plots, and the entire world of Avatar: The Last Airbender because of our wonderful writers.

Could you share any behind-the-scenes anecdotes or memorable experiences from Netflix series Avatar: The Last Airbender or previous project that fans might find intriguing?

On set, Paul Sun-Hyung Lee (who plays Uncle Iroh) looked after me the way Uncle Iroh looked after Zuko. He was always there for me no matter what.

In Netflix Avatar: The Last Airbender; what are the differences and/or similarities between you and your character Zuko? Please elaborate.

When it comes to something that Zuko and I are chasing in life, I think we are quite similar. We share the same amount of fiery passion, and in a way, we become quite obsessive of whatever it may be that we are trying to achieve. Zuko will do whatever it takes to get what he wants just like how I dedicate all my time and energy to a project that I’m working on. The most obvious difference between the two of us is that I am clearly the better firebender.

How do you approach character preparation and development, especially when taking on roles that may be vastly different from your own personality?

I dedicate all my time and energy to every role regardless of how different they might be from my own personality because I want to give 100% in all the roles that I take on.

Are there any specific genres or types of roles you aspire to explore in the future that you haven't had the chance to take on yet?

I’m open to anything and everything. Because I’m still at a very early point in my career and life, I want to do it all!

How do you balance the demands of your career with personal life and self-care, especially considering the fast-paced nature of the entertainment industry?

The time spent with my family and friends balances it all out for me. Whether it’s going out to dinner with them, watching movies, or simply hanging out at home, I am always happiest with them.

You are also known to be trained in martial arts. What sparked your interest in martial arts, and how does it complement your career in acting?

I had always enjoyed watching action TV shows and films when I was younger, so my parents had decided to put me in it knowing that it would make me happy. Throughout my career I’ve noticed a few similarities between acting and martial arts. In martial arts, you start off with choosing a specific style that you want to study and apply the techniques that you learn from it. However, the use of those techniques will vary depending on how that person incorporates themselves into it, and how they adapt to each situation, really making it individualized. Similarly, in acting, you will learn various methods and techniques and apply them to the scenes you are given. And within each character, there will always lie part of your true self. When acting out those scenes, actors infuse them with their personal life experiences as well. Just how an experienced martial artist will react differently in each situation.

What advice would you give to aspiring actors looking to establish themselves in the industry based on your own experiences and lessons learned?

Remain strong! Don’t worry about what others are doing or working on. At the end of the day, there is only so much you can control. Therefore, always give it your best effort no matter the character, scene, or project.

How does culture representation and involvement in community inspire you personally and professionally?

Through hope and love. Whether it is in my personal life or my career, I’m constantly motivated to improve myself as a human being.

Who is your inspiration and why?

My parents. They’ve sacrificed everything for me and given me more than I could ever imagine. I have a hard time understanding how they did it, but all I could come up with was love. The way my parents love my brother and I is unconditional and incomprehensible. I aspire to be like them every day.

Name 3 actors that you would like to work with and why?

The actor that I want to work with the most is William Dafoe. I could give a number of reasons explaining why I love him so much, but more than anything I would just like to learn from him and work alongside him. His wide range of work and different characters is what inspires me the most. Whenever I watch him on screen, it never feels like I’m watching William Dafoe play a character, rather it feels like he really is that character. He fully immerses himself into every moment. I find it to be extremely impressive and entertaining.

Can you share any insights or hints about your upcoming projects or roles in 2024 (besides Avatar: The Last Airbender) that your fans can look forward to?

I enjoy acting and I’m open to anything when it comes to roles and projects, so, all I can say is, 2024 is going to be an awesome year! GR8T

[gffa]

These two pages from Dark Victory have stayed with me ever since I first read it because they're visually hella interesting, I enjoy Tim Sale's art for how stylish it is, but also because every time I see it, I hear the click of a spotlight being turned on, almost like this is a play being acted out. It highlights the connection between the characters, but that it also is shutting everything else out. That makes sense in the moment, Dick just watched his parents die, there's nothing else in the world for him. Bruce is reliving his own trauma of having watched his parents die, as well as watching another child go through the same thing--but, in a way I can't shake, it almost feels like Bruce is intruding on this moment, too. That Dick's loss gets interpreted as a mirror of Bruce's loss--Dark Victory goes to great lengths to hammer home that parallel, it is not at all subtle about it:

But what strikes me about the moment of the Graysons' deaths is that it feels almost like a play being acted out, that Bruce becomes part of it because they mirror each other so strongly, that for all they grow as individuals and come to love each other as uniquely different people, they will always be rooted in this mirroring of each other. Bruce isn't just a bystander to Dick's loss and grief, it fundamentally connects them and defines them--that in many ways Dick understands Bruce the best because, as Dick says about himself, when he was Robin, he was smaller than everyone else, so he had to learn to read people better, to know what they were going to do, because Dick was with Bruce the longest, because Dick and Bruce often are the most similar. But it's also that Dick understands Bruce best because Bruce allowed him in because of this mirror, that sometimes it feels like Bruce only understands people through the lens of his own grief, that's why Dick's the closest to him, because Dick shares that same loss. This isn't to undercut that Dick was a bright, lively child who brought laughter and joy because that is also absolutely true and I will fight tooth and nail anyone who says otherwise. Bruce loves that kid because Dick refused to not be loved, because he's not the same as Bruce, he's brighter, he's better, he's more in so many ways. Bruce and Dick's relationship isn't just one thing or another, there are times when it borders on almost being kind of healthy and then there are times when it's toxic as hell, yet it's always underscored by how much they genuinely love each other, how Bruce keeps thoughts of Dick in his mind to turn to for solace just like he turns to thoughts of his own father, how Dick demands to be worth just as much to Bruce's parents even when they've traveled into the future to be directly in front of him, and Dick gets that worth from Bruce. But sometimes I think about that panel, I hear a spotlight clicking on in my head, I think about Bruce unintentionally inserting himself into this moment of Dick's loss and how Bruce sometimes holds him closer to his heart because Dick's hurt mirrors his own so much. How sometimes Bruce sees the world through that lens of trauma and only how much people can understand it, that the rest of the world drops away and is nothing but black, empty space, except him and the person who understands his hurt.

That I can look at that panel and see it as its meant to be--a moment of pure connection, "I understand what you're going through, I can't take it away, but I can be here with you." and how that saved Dick Grayson's life, how it allowed him to heal and grow and thrive. I can see Bruce's heart breaking because he would have done anything to save this kid from that pain. And sometimes I can look at it and see Bruce watching a horrific play unfold before him and relating to it through his own issues, rather than true empathy. Ultimately, it's really more that they're kindred spirits, that's what the follow-up pages show, that Dick goes through the same process that Bruce went through, he does the same things Bruce did, all while Bruce isn't there to influence him into that at all. Dick is his own person, Bruce couldn't make him be a copy of Bruce if he'd wanted to, he couldn't even win an argument with a nine-year-old about putting on a costume and fighting crime with him and absolutely not staying out of the line of fire. Dick Grayson did what he was going to do, Bruce had nothing to do with making him into that person. But part of the reason they're such an interesting dynamic is because they're not just purely one thing or another, that for all that at the end of the day, Dick and Bruce are naturally like each other in a lot of core ways, it's also possible to read them as unhealthy co-dependent on each other, that them being everything to each other comes with some sharper edges, especially when Bruce sometimes resents Dick for growing beyond him and leaving him, even while desperately proud of him at the same time.

It's a thing Bruce struggles with a lot when it comes to Dick and I think of this tangled web of emotions every time I see that second splash page above. That Bruce came to love this kid as a son, but also as someone who understood what it was like to live with that kind of devastating loss, and how hard Bruce connected with that--and then how hard it was to let him go, when Bruce can't let go of his parents. That it's hard for Bruce to see Dick grow beyond being the son who understood him best, who mirrored his tragedy best, and he'll do it, he loves his kid enough to keep climbing back up out of that desire to hold onto him as his reflection even if he falls back into it sometimes, that some part of him will always see Dick as the one who had that connection that blocked the rest of the world out and understood him in a way no one else could.