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#also i have the best mutuals!! so many of you did this ask game and said nice things i'm a lil overwhelmed i love you all
goldenwilliamson · 5 months
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would you maybe be able to write a fic for leah where the reader is a famous singer and goes to an arsenal or england game and then gets to meet the team after and leah is secretly a huge fan trying to play it cool (kind of like becks/posh)???
fan behaviour | leah williamson
pairing: leah williamson x reader
a/n: love this ask, feel like i miiight have read something similar to this but can't remember who wrote it, so apologies for conceptual similarities if there is any. also i reference reader wearing leah's no. 8 england jersey even though leah has worn many different numbers for england lol.
summary: reader is a famous singer who goes to an england game and goes back to meet the girls after, not knowing leah williamson thinks she is the fittest woman to walk the earth. leah's fellow lionesses taking the piss out of her a bit for her crush. reader finding it endlessly endearing, as you would.
word count: 2.1k
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When you had asked your manager if she could organise getting you tickets to see the Lionesses play, you hadn't expected that your love for the women's team would be reciprocated in any way. So you were pleasantly surprised when your manager informed you that the team wanted to meet you after the game, and agreed immediately.
You had briefly met a few of the players already at a GQ event last year, and on that occasion you had found yourself completely infatuated with the captain Leah Williamson. You had watched on in the Euros as she lead the team out with such confidence and from there you had definitely developed a small crush on the footballer. You had even sourced yourself a number 8 Williamson jersey to wear to the final at Wembley.
After the historic final you shared a photo of yourself and your family donned proudly in your England jerseys to your instagram that night with the caption 'claiming the title of the @lionesses biggest fan. the girls brought it home ⚽️🔥❤️'. Little did you know that when Leah saw your post, she had made sure everyone on the team had seen that you were wearing her jersey. She couldn't believe her eyes, or that a musician of your status was posting about the Lionesses. In a simple display of mutual affection, Leah liked the post and left a comment saying 'The feeling is mutual, thanks for the love x'.
It wasn't until later in the year that the two of you had finally met at the GQ Men of the Year event after the Euros. You had seen her across the room and made a shamless beeline for her. Though no introductions were necessary, you both introduced yourselves, and right off the bat Leah mentioned the fact that you had posted a photo of yourself in her jersey. You tried your best to play it cool, but you certainly were blushing, which Leah only found more endearing.
"I've got to back the captain haven't I?" You'd told her.
"I'm not complaining, it looked better on you than it does on me," she responded flirtatiously with practised ease.
"You're making me blush now," you pat your cheeks, feeling the warmth of your face.
"Surely you get people complimenting you in every room you walk into," Leah said matter of factly, only flattering you further.
"Leah Williamson, stop inflating my ego!" You laughed, "You live a far more respectable life than I do, and you manage to look this bloody good while doing it," you motion up and down her body with your hands to her outfit, completely blown away by her ability to look so damn good in and out of kit.
"Well I'll take the compliment, but I'll have you know I have a great respect for you and your music," she says sincerely.
"Thank you, I guess it's my turn to take the compliment too," you tell her, and sadly your conversation is cut short by an announcement that the award ceremony is about to commence and that everyone must move to their seats. The rest of the night your mind was occupied with thoughts of the English captain, especially since she was honoured with multiple speeches of people singing her praises.
And while you couldn't have known it, Leah's mind was filled with you. After that night she had strictly listened to your music on repeat for weeks, much to the annoyance of her teammates who demanded something else be played since it was Leah who had the role of team DJ.
A few months later when you decided to secure tickets to the Arnold Clark Cup game in Milton Keynes, you had secretly hoped you might get another encounter with Leah, and your manager had confirmed this at the start of the night.
When the girls were in the change room before hand, news began to travel that you were in the crowd, but it hadn't reached Leah until she queued up one of your songs in the pre-game playlist and realisation dawned on Ella Toone's face.
"Can you believe Y/N Y/L/N is here? Apparently she's going to come say hello after the game," Ella said.
"Is she really?" Leah said, her voice coming out squeaky, the excitement evident.
"Oh good Lee, maybe you can just ask her out like a normal human instead of listening to her like an obsessive fan," Georgia Stanway said loud enough for every one to hear, making the team laugh.
"Give it a rest," Leah shook her head, but she smiled, knowing Georgia had a point.
Leah knew she had spent way too much time thinking about you for only having met you that one time, but she couldn't help it. She definitely felt there was a little chemistry in your brief conversation at the GQ event. She tried not to let herself believe that but, after all, you were one of the most famous artists in the world, and she was just a footballer. She wasn't even sure that you dated women. Either way, the idea that you were in the crowd made her want to put in a good performance.
From your posh seats, which you felt extremely lucky to be in, you were enthralled in the game, cheering as loud as anyone when the girls scored their 4 goals against South Korea. You'd even come wearing a Williamson Jersey under your coat, and throughout the game your eye was consistently drawn to the blonde defender who charmed you those months ago.
When the game ended one of the many people working behind the scenes for the Lionesses came to find you at your seat to escort you and your manager through the back of the stadium down to where the team was.
You could hear the sound of Murder On The Dancefloor playing loudly as you followed your escort towards the change room where the team was clearly celebrating their win. The girls were mostly too busy dancing and shouting along with the song to notice your entrance, which made you smile. You didn't want to disrupt their celebrations by any means, but the woman who brought you down had cleared her throat to get the girls attention.
"Sorry to interrupt ladies, but I've got someone special here who has kindly come to say hello!" She announces to the room and instantly the heads turn your way.
You flash a smile and wave as the music gets turned down, "Sorry to show up in the middle of such a good song," you apologise.
"Are you kidding me? The music can wait, you're Y/N bloody Y/L/N," Ella said, making you laugh.
"And you're Ella bloody Toone, it's so good to meet you. I'm a huge fan of you all," You said, expressing your love for the entire team, looking around the room. Even though you've brushed shoulders with more celebrities than you can count, staring into a room of footballers you admire felt extremely surreal.
"We're fans of yours, especially Leah," Georgia says, gesturing across the room with her thumb towards Leah who you were only managing to see now.
She stood resting against the wall with her arms crossed, shaking her head, "Thanks for that G."
You decide it's getting a bit awkward with everyone staring at you, as if you're about to give a half time pep talk so you try to diffuse the situation a little.
"Well I'd love to get around and have a chat with all of you, but please put your music on and do your thing, I feel silly standing up here in front of you all," you say, smiling.
"You heard her girls, stop staring, play the music Leah," Millie Bright said instructively and you watched as Leah picked her phone up and pressed play on the music.
Instantly many went back to singing along to the Sophie Ellis-Bextor classic, and you made your way over towards Georgia Stanway giving her a hug hello, and sitting down with her for a chat.
"That penalty was unreal," you told Georgia, referring to the goal she scored in the game. You spoke with her easily, feeling like you were catching up with a friend.
You continued to move your way around the room, chatting with some of the girls individually and with some in smaller groups. While they all had compliments for you and questions to ask, you met them with the exact same energy. The room quickly filled up with more people who work for the team and friends and family which made you feel less like you were a lucky fan who had orchestrated a private meet and greet with the team.
The whole time you were in the room you were looking for Leah out of the corner of your eye, wanting to save her for a bit later so you could get some more time to talk with her. Once you'd basically made your rounds of the room chatting to the players and their family members you finally made your way over to Leah.
"Saving the best for last?" Leah smirks at you as you approach.
"Well I'm not one to pick favourites, but I did wear my Williamson jersey tonight," you say, pushing open your coat to show off the white England jersey tucked loosely into your pants.
"I can't get over you wearing my shirt," Leah said, her pearly white teeth on full display, which you reflected with your own face.
"Is it surreal for you? Since I hear you're such a big fan of mine and all," you say, reference Georgia's little quip from earlier which didn't fly under your radar.
"Oh, she's got banter," Leah says, an eyebrow raised.
"She tries," you shrug your shoulders.
"Well if you must know, yes I'm a fan. I may even have been told off for playing too much of your music around the girls," she admits, "But you've got my name on your back so I'd say the feeling is mutual."
"Oh, it's definitely mutual, if anything I'm underplaying how big of a fan I am," you say, your honesty laced with sarcasm.
Leah smiles, "Well if we're being honest I'm really glad you came today, I was disappointed we didn't get to chat more back at that GQ event," Leah says earnestly.
"So was I! I actually tried to find you later that night but had no luck," you said.
"Oh, you did? I was probably just sitting with Alex Scott chatting her ear off about how fit you are," Leah says, her forwardness catching you off guard just slightly.
"Well just as well I came here today then," you said, dropping your voice slightly and leaning in closer to her ear, "Because I haven't stopped thinking about you since that night."
"Well what do you say we get together for coffee soon and we can gush over each other some more?" Leah offers and you light up at the idea.
"I'd say that's a great idea," you nod, laughing, "Here let me give you my number," you motion towards the phone in her hand and she unlocks it, handing it over to you. You open her contacts and create a new one for you.
"Alright, all done," you hand her phone back to her, feeling your heart beating in your chest.
"Perfect, well, Y/N, it was a pleasure to see you again," Leah says, opening her arms for a hug, which you slip into gladly.
"Yes, always a pleasure. Make sure you text me later, don't leave me hanging," you say in your embrace, knowing that you're close enough to Leah that the other girls might not hear.
"I wouldn't dare," Leah promises.
"Alright, good," you smile as you step away.
Now that your conversation has come to an end Leah turns back to the rest of the girls, most of whom are watching your and Leah's interaction very closely.
"Alright girls, Y/N is heading off now, say your goodbyes," Leah says, using what you think must be her captain voice, sounding very assertive.
"Bye guys, it's been so good to meet you all," you tell everyone as they all say goodbye and thank you for coming. You embrace almost everyone in a hug as you slowly making your way back around to the door where your manager waits for you.
You give one last wave goodbye, and have one last look at Leah who is watching every move of yours with a small smile on her face. She waves at you as you look at her and with that you turn and leave the room.
As you walk through the stadium to the back entrance where a car is waiting for you, your manager asks how you're feeling after meeting all the girls.
You giggle like you're a teenager again as you tell her, "I think I have a date with Leah Williamson."
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rayroseu · 6 months
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Saved by Diasomnia!!
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I really love how the game always makes sure we get a rescue moment with Diasomnia characters in every event if they are on it lol
It supports my agenda that Ramshackle and Diasomnia are connected to each other in lore (like both these dorms have heavy relation with History and Death)🙌🏻🙌🏻. They are always on the lookout for their Young Master's friend... 🥺💖💕
(Also yeah... Why did I just realize now that Malleus is the one who indirectly introduced us to other Diaso members.....😭😭 I find that so cute bcs usually the others are *supposed* to be the one looking for a friend for him but Malleus just mentioned us and Lilia was hyped about it and it all domino effect from there lol)
Also, surprise yeee‼️‼️🤺🤺 I drew some of my mutuals OC's 🥰✨✨ Yuuri Atsuisamui with Silver from @souslesetoilesavectoi and Hana Asteria with Lilia from @hanafubukki ✨🫶🏻✨🫶🏻✨ (i hope i did justice for your lovely oc's, sous and hana!!😭) And, Malleus is just with my yume oc, Citrine🥰💛,,, also i need to interact to more sebek yumes... i only had the default prefect for him🥹
Honestly there are other Diashackle moments that I want to include as well!! But these four are my most precious💖💖
Like that time in Sunset Savanna event, where Lilia pressured Leona to let us go to Sunset Savanna too or else he's not going lol (thank you peepaw💗💞💗✨✨) and that vignette with Sebek helping us carry the chairs and him protecting us when the chairs fell ‼️🥹💚
On the main story, Silver is the only one who asks us if we're fine from time to time and the fact he rescued us after Mickey's dream collapsed--- and ofc Malleus indirectly helping us on Book 3 bcs of the Gargoyle Analogy lol--- I LOVE IT 🥹🫶🏻✨💗💞💗💖💘
Even the events mentions how precious Ramshackle is to Diasomnia so 🤗🤗🤗 thank you for being the backbone of many Yuu&Grim spotlight, Diasomnia-- Best dorm frfr✨✨💞💞💗💞💗
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spamgyu · 3 months
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urs // Mingyu Series - Part 1
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"the best at being the worst... but fuck sake I'm already yours"
DESCRIPTION: she and mingyu were in no place to be in a relationship. she was his best friend's stylist and he was... well he was kim mingyu; something stable was not something that was ideal for the two – not when their careers are both at it's peak. PAIRING: idol!mingyu x stylist!reader GENRE: angst WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol, implied smut, stubborn protagonists, so many red flags you would think this is a football game, features the love of mingyu's life (jungkook) and all his other besties
NOTE: if you read INFRUNAMI, no you didn't. this has the same-ish vibes BUT this is the re-written version. many events, actions, and overall plot has been changed. (even if the intro/first part is very similar)
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"How was LA?" Mingyu asked, rolling off her bed; reaching to put on the black sweatpants he carelessly discarded earler. It was nearly a month and a half since he had last seen her, been with her, and he was desperate to feel her touch.
He allowed her to greet him with a quick hi before he scooped her off the ground and carried her over to her bed; doing what they knew best.
"Eh." She shrugged, also gathering her items off the floor – dressing herself as if she hadn't just allowed him to ravish her body like an animal that hand't been fed for days. "It's not as hectic since I only have one of them to work with."
She was referring to their mutual friend - the God sent human being that introduced the two. Not that his intention was for his group's stylist to have this arrangement with his best friend, no - he was simply being polite.
It was in good manners to introduce two strangers to one another, especially in a setting that required socializing. Y/n did her best to maintain a professional distance between her and Mingyu; she was just a stylist after all.
Of course, she was only successful for about 6 months and once again it was all thanks to his best friend.
Having to spend nearly every waking moment with the seven boys; y/n couldn't help but develop a friendship with them. Sooner or later she found herself being invited to more parties, dinners, and casual hang outs where Mingyu seemed to always be in attendance.
Somehow, the brooding tall boy of one of the famous boy groups that was slowly making it's way to the top of the charts, had charmed his way in to her pants. She wasn't complaining, of course.
The sex was good. Amazing even.
She was just a girl with needs.
Needs which just happened to have been met by someone who should have remained untouchable. Not just for the sake of their friend group but her job.
There wasn't a clause in her contract that forbid this, some staff members in their very large company having their fair share of flings and relations with idols that seemingly played off being single to the public. It was more of her own choice, not wanting to do anything to jeopordize the once in a lifetime chance she had managed to land herself as BTS' stylist.
Through her title of four years, she had managed to not only secure a well paying job but opportunities throughout the fashion industry – slowly making a name for herself.
Y/n wasn't just a nameless stranger credited at the end of albums, along with other staff members. Those late nights steaming garments, prepping for shoots, and 15 hour work days were finally paying off.
"That's good." Mingyu hummed, taking a seat on her bed - leaning back as he watched her go straight to her suitcase.
Unpacking as if nothing had happened.
The two have gotten very accustomed to their arrangement; having it been nearly a year and a half since they made the agreement of being friends... with a heck of a benefit.
But of course, there were set rules to their agreement.
Despite wanting to keep their actions as completely physical, she and Mingyu cared deeply for the friendship they had managed to develop in the four years they have known each other.
These set rules were put in place to ensure that their friendship will remain intact if they so decide to go off and find their own happiness or satisfaction elsewhere.
Simple as that.
RULE 1: Let either one know if they are planning to sleep around or date - for safety reasons. RULE 2: No kissing outside of sex RULE 3: Keep things platonic outside of the bedroom. No flirting, no obvious touching, nothing that will make others uncomfortable. RULE 4: No feelings.
It was very easy for the two to stay within the boundaries of these rules, considering how busy they were with their careers. They had no time to catch feelings - despite their friends' warnings that this could end badly.
They were dumb but they weren't stupid. They were well aware of the consequences of their actions.
"How's comeback prep?" She recalled him mentioning this during one of their late night calls a few months back after one of Mingyu's schedules; claiming he couldn't sleep and no one else was awake to entertain him.
"Exhausting, we're doing twice the amount of practice because of our world tour."
"Oh yeah." Y/n paused, looking up from the items she carelessly discarded into her bag the day before. "When's the first show?"
"Three weeks ago." Mingyu chuckled.
This was a typical conversation between the two; especially when both of their schedules become equally as packed. He had no expectations for her to know his every single move, the same way he rarely knew what city or project she may be up to at the top of his head.
And if Mingyu was being honest, he was happy with this. They had no obligations to one another – not having to worry about anyone's emotions, what they were doing, having to give updates on their daily life.
It was low maintenance.
Just what they both needed.
"Which reminds me," Mingyu shifted in his place, digging into his pocket to pull out a small black box; earning a raised brow from her. "Here."
"Are you proposing to me?" She took the box from him, hesitantly opening it.
"Ha ha." He rolled his eyes. "Minghao and I were at a second hand store by the hotel and I saw those and it reminded me of you."
It was a vintage silver chain bracelet with two charms hanging off it; a key and circular pendant - a rare Gucci x Tom Ford collab to be exact. She had a knack for silver jewelry, especially stackable ones with multiple charms hanging off of them.
Minghao was on a hunt for a leather jacket that night, claiming that Japan had one of the best thrift stores for 2nd-hand designer items. Mingyu allowed his friend to drag him along on his little shopping trip, under one condition; dinner was paid for.
With no other member interested in browsing endless rows of clothing racks, Minghao agreed to Mingyu's terms.
Little did he know that it would be Mingyu that would score the best find of the night. It wasn't that he planned to buy her something, he was simply taking a glance at the glass case and there just happened to be something that looked like it would match his friend's style.
"How much was it?"
He waved her off. "I make what I paid for that in just two minutes."
She grabbed the nearest sweater she had just folded; throwing it at him with a laugh. "Dumbass."
"No but seriously, it was really cheap."
"Thank you." She smiled, getting up from the floor with her arms open wide.
Mingyu leaned away, laughing. "Ew, are you trying to hug me?"
"Come on, don't reject my love." She grabbed his arm and tried to pull him up. Key word; tried. "Stop working out so much, you're too strong!"
"That's the goal, y/n." He refused to give in; flexing his bicep in attempts to loosen her grip.
"Are you- You're so insufferable." She let go of him.
Once their laughs subsided, they fell into a comfortable silence; Mingyu scrolling on his phone while she continued to unpack. He had no plans of leaving and she had no plans of kicking him out.
Mingyu and y/n didn't care to admit it, but they missed each other. After all, it was normal to miss your friend.
They didn't know how or when but somehow, in between the stories Mingyu told about his group's impromptu time in Rome and sharing her excitement for the new fall collections that were set to debut during Paris Fashion week, they found themselves cuddling. Her head rested on Mingyu's chest while she watched FRIENDS for the upteenth time whilst Mingyu watched the rough edit of their new music video - his free hand absentmindedly playing with a strand of her hair.
This wasn't breaking the rule; they were in the bedroom.
This was technically part of the benefits they agreed on.
"What's your plans for Chuseok? Is your mom flying in?"
She didn't grow up in Korea and had little to no family left in the country; making holidays like these isolating. Being a 2nd generation immigrant, she didn't have the slightest intentions of moving her whole life to Korea in the first place. But somehow, she was back in the same country her grandparents left to seek a better future for their family. Who would have known that the future of one of their grandkids was back where they began their lives together.
Y/n shook her head, silently answering his question.
In previous years, her mom made an effort to fly in to visit her and celebrate Chuseok and Christmas with her. But with her grandparents growing older, and due to her recent schedule alignment, she didn't see that it was necessary for her mom to visit for such a short amount of time.
"I'll probably just fly out around Christmas time." Her eyes trained on the television.
"Want to spend it with us?"
She raised her head and gave him a look. "Because that went so well last year."
Her mom left a day earlier than planned the previous year, leaving her to spend the last day of Chuseok alone.
Somehow Mingyu caught wind of this and invited her over to have dinner with his family. This of course sent his mom and sister over the moon; thinking and thanking the gods and saints that he finally brought a girl home. Despite Mingyu and her explanations that they were in fact just friends; the teasing and gawking went on until the two left.
"I'll tell Minseo to cool it with the teasing."
"Maybe." That earned a smile from him. "I said maybe! Jungkook and I are flying out to LA for another shoot right after, I might just spend the time getting the pulls ready for it."
He raised his brows. "All three days?"
"I also have to assist with Tae-"
"All HYBE staff have Chuseok off."
"Office is closed but I have keys." There weren't any rules about stopping by the company if it was needed. She was on salary after-all.
"Come on, you know you like my mom's cooking." He sang. "You haven't had a home cooked meal from a mom in a while."
"Maybe."
"Hard head." Mingyu rolled his eyes. He knew there was no winning when it came to convincing her to do something she wasn't too keen on doing.
For someone who worked in a fast paced industry that was constantly changing, she was very much someone who was not too fond of spontaneity. She needed structure, and she was definitely someone who had a 5 year plan written down in a notebook or her notes app.
Her job was the only controlled chaos she allowed.
"Butt head."
・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.
"You look happy. Did you come from a special someone's place?" His best friend teased as he opened the door.
"None of your business." Mingyu playfully rolled his eyes at his friend; kicking off his sneakers before reaching down to pet the large dog happily waiting for him.
"Oh but when you want to know when we'll be back in Korea, it's all of a sudden my business." Jungkook chuckled, handing him a glass filled with a light brown liquid.
"Exactly." He smiled, taking a sip of the warm liquid. "Eugh, why is it warm? You have all this money but can't afford a working fridge?"
"Fuck off. It was cold earlier but you took too long to get here."
Mingyu received a text from Jungkook inviting him over to drink and hang out.... 3 hours ago. He meant to open the text, he really did - but he became a little too invested in Monica and Chandler's attempts to hide their relationship from their friends and completely forgot about the multiple notifications he received from his friend.
It wasn't until y/n received four consecutive text messages from Jungkook, begging her to share his best friend that he missed very much, that Mingyu realized he had left his friend on delivered. She practically pushed him out the door to get him to leave, claiming "He won't stop bothering me until you show up."
"My bad. Monica and Chandler are sleeping together." He took a seat on the couch, taking another sip - ignoring the temperature of the drink.
"Oh great, more friends that are fucking- Do people not believe in relationships anymore?"
"Hey how does your song go again? I wanna see it in motion, Monday Tue-"
"I got it. I got it." He interrupted his friend's medley of his two new singles. "You know, you and y/n are starting to have the same sense of humor, it's making me sick."
"Don't you like that? It's like I'm with you even if I'm not."
"I hate that she said the same thing to me." Jungkook grumbled. "Please, just date and put me out of my misery."
"Won't dating make it worse?"
"So you've considered it."
Mingyu shook his head at his friend's quick remark.
He wasn't boyfriend material. He was busy, barely even having time for himself; dating was definitely not in his cards right now.
Especially not with someone who he has grown very fond of. Fond; in a purely platonic way, of course.
Mingyu has tried dating before, and they all lead to heartache and headache; his busy schedule always being the root of the problem. He grew tired of fighting the same fight with different people and vowed that the next time he tried dating would be when his professional life had fully slowed down.
But with the current trajectory of his group's career, it seemed as though this was not in the cards anytime soon.
And Mingyu was perfectly okay with that.
Besides, he had y/n.
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@thegirlwhoimagined @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @vanillacheol @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @bubbly-moon @pluviophile-xxx @daegutowns @jenoxygen @niktwazny303 @aahvii
(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)
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Text
Before You Go
Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary: Reader is a grad student in college trying to work hard for her degree, but a certain green eyed stranger keeps showing up and turns her life upside down. Will she push him away? Or will she finally realize that he’s not going anywhere? (I’m so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Tropes: Angst, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Age Difference (Reader is early to mid-20's and Dean is probably early 30's)
Word Count: 5.5K (I have an addiction don't judge me)
Warnings: Some swearing (once or twice), mentions of sex (not explicit at all), implied sex, self-deprecating thoughts (Dean),  Dean might be a little bit OOC.
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. I’m not going to lie, this one is a little self-indulgent. This is only my second supernatural fic, so please be gentle. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.
Masterlist
Part 2
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"Did you understand anything from that lecture?" Tim asks nudging your shoulder.
 The sour smell of beer and sweat fades in and out of your nose as you make your way to the Science building through the mass of students on the way to the football game. It was a Thursday night, Thursday night for everyone else meant tailgating, cheap beer, and face paint, but Thursday night for you meant four hours in the anatomy lab surrounded by the oppressive smell of formaldehyde and bent over a table examining the internal intricacies of the human body.
It wasn’t unwelcome, you knew what you signed up for when you decided to go to medical school, but you still wished that the lab was earlier in the day instead of at 6 pm.
The air is filled with the dull throb of energy, pulsing with the music from speakers all over campus, and through the throngs of people that pass you on the way to the stadium. The buzz of excitement in the air vibrated through your nerve endings. If you paid attention to how well the football team was doing, you would have known that tonight was the championship, but the closest you got to pigskin was the bag of pork rinds in your backpack and the occasional football player that asked you for help finding research materials during your shifts at the library.
"Nope." You reply jostling past a group of guys toting a giant stuffed pig wearing jersey of the school’s rival while they catcall some girls up ahead dressed from head to toe in bright red.
"Then why did you keep nodding?"
"Because Professor Drake was staring right at me!"
"You didn't have to make eye contact."
"It's a little late for that don't you think?" You smile up at him. He's taller than you, with dark hair falling forward into his glasses and a lean build. "But it's alright, I'll just binge watch YouTube videos."
Tim laughs adjusting his backpack over his shoulder. You had been lab partners since your first year, randomly assigned and forced to collaborate, but after many late night study sessions and mental breakdowns, Tim was one of your only friends.
“You seem to spend a lot of time on YouTube." He smiles.
"It's free education."
"Seems ridiculous to pay all this money just to learn it on YouTube."
"If YouTube handed out degrees for watching videos I’d be a doctor by now. I’d probably also have a degree in culinary arts.” You look down to check the watch on your wrist. You were both running late for lab. Dr. Welsh hated it when students were late, in fact, he was notorious for locking the door. Each week there was always some poor soul that banged on the door for entry, but Dr. Welsh knew no mercy. One time, you witnessed another student attempt to sneak in through the window an hour late. Dr. Welsh made them go back out the way they came, despite the lab being on the third floor.
At least the student brought a ladder with him.
“Culinary arts?”
“I like pie. Plus baking helps me cope with my stress.” You knock into his shoulder to shut him up. “What? You don’t watch anything weird on YouTube?”
“I usually start watching videos to understand the lectures and suddenly it’s been 7 hours, it’s 3 am and I’m watching a timelapse of metal rusting.”
“We’ve all been there buddy.”
"Hey doll-face!" You hear from somewhere behind you, but you ignore it, believing it to be another group of guys who splash beer over the sidewalk.
You glance down at your watch again.
"We're not going to be late." Jake says sensing your anxiety. "We've got 5 minutes."
"Early is on time, on time is late, late is inexcusable." You sing-song.
"Dr. Welsh embroider that on a pillow for you?"
"No it’s just-"
Someone grabs your backpack and pulls you back a step. What the- You whirl around prepared to cuss out a drunken frat boy, but you weren't expecting Dean Winchester.
"Dean." You say in surprise.
He looks better than you remember. Dean's wearing a red flannel covered by a black jacket, his hair tousled just the right amount to look effortless, his green eyes crinkled around the edges as his mouth pulls into a smile that makes your knees weak.
Your relationship, if you could even call it that, began your first week of classes, two years ago. You had just moved into your apartment and met your new roommate, but instead of going out to the new student mixer with her, you decided to stay in and unpack. It was past midnight when you heard a commotion in the apartment next door and when you opened your front door to investigate, you found Dean in the hallway leaning against the wall. His clothes were torn, he had a knife in his hand, blood was soaked through the front of his shirt, but when his eyes met yours, you weren't afraid. He looked so broken, so small that you had to help him. So you pulled him into your apartment and stitched him up the best you could, while he tried to lie about how it happened and explain why he looked like he'd been through a blender. Dean had never been good at lying to you, not even then. He was also the biggest baby you had ever met when it came to wound care.
In the months that followed Dean continued to show up, each time with injuries less and less life threatening asking you to help him, until one day he showed up perfectly fine and continued to show up. You would spend every minute together for a few days and then he would leave like nothing happened, only to show up again in a few weeks and it would start all over again.  Sometimes you thought that he wanted more than just a few days together, but then he would just leave, not giving you any other explanation. You hadn't expected to fall for him as hard as you did, but each time he left it broke you. You found yourself hoping each day that he would show up, only to be disappointed when he didn't. Days would drag by fading into shades of gray until finally Dean would show up and everything went back to color, only to sink back into monochrome when he left. The last time you had seen him was a month ago, when you told him that you couldn't do this anymore and told him not to come back.
But now he was here, again.
"Hey Doll-face." Dean smiles wider.
You try to ignore how your heart stutters in your chest when he smiles at you.
"Do you know this guy?" Tim asks you taking a step forward to put himself between Dean and you.
Dean's eyes trace Tim, smile slipping into confident smirk as he sizes him up. He opens his mouth, but you interrupt whatever thought was about to come out.
"Unfortunately I do." You sigh. "Tim can you give us a minute."
"Sure. But-"
"I know." You say, understanding that he was going to remind you what time it was. "We won't be late."
"I'll be over there." Tim puts a healthy distance between the two of you, far enough to give you space, but close enough that he can see you.
Dean is still smirking at him. "Boyfriend?" His eyes flit to yours, amused.
"Lab partner." You adjust your grip on your backpack unsure what to do.
I said everything I needed to say the last time. I thought that was it. Did he think I didn't mean it?
You think about the last time he was here, when you told him that you couldn't do this anymore and when he finally left, how you skipped all your classes and stayed in bed for two days clutching a pillow to your chest and wishing that it was him. It had felt like the end. The end of whatever the hell this had been. Sometimes you wished that you had defined it the first time you slept together, wished that you had told him you didn't do that ever, that you didn't just sleep with people without feelings because you knew sooner or later it would end up like this.
Then again you knew that you always had feelings for him, since the moment you locked eyes with his the night you met.
"He’s cute. If you’re into that geeky kind of thing. Though you could always date Sam-"
"What are you doing here?"
"I was in the neighborhood. Plus I didn’t want to miss the big game.”  Dean's eyes flit to the mass of people swarming around you, shouting and singing as they stumble down the cracked pavement. The dark shadows of the buildings stretch long over campus, illuminated by the lamplights that line the sidewalks.
"You should have called"
"I did. You never pick up" He arches a perfect eyebrow.
"Most would take that as a hint"
"Well Sweetheart given my profession you not picking up made me worry."
By now you knew exactly what he did. Despite Dean not acting like he wanted a relationship, when all was quiet and it was just the two of you laying in bed he confided in you, told you things about his life that made you hold him close and wish that you could make him forget all about it. You loved those soft moments with Dean, when it felt like more and you could imagine that Dean wanted to be as wrapped up in you as you were in him.
Your heart clenches in your chest as you try to forget it all, forget the day he walked into your life, and forget how much you like him.
"I can’t do this with you right now, I’ve got a lab in 3 minutes." You turn towards where Tim is standing, prepared to leave.
"Come on you can blow off one lab.”  Dean grabs your backpack turning you back to face him. “We can go to the big game. You know I can’t say no to free beer-“ The look in his eyes is joking.
He doesn't understand.
You shake him off. "No I can't Dean. This is important to me. This is my life. I can't drop everything just because you show up out of the blue."
"It wouldn't be out of the blue if you picked up your phone." His smile dips into an attractive pout that makes it very difficult to think.
"Dean why are you here?"
"I told you, I was in the neighborhood-"
"We talked about this. I can't do this anymore."
"I remember you talking about it."
"Yes and I remember you leaving." You snap as the memory of the last time you saw him rises in the back of your throat. You think about the days that followed, when you couldn't focus and flunked a test. 
"Y/n-“ Dean sighs.
"Look, I like spending time with you, but I can't keep doing this to myself. You show up, we spend every second together for days, and then you leave. It would be one thing if we were trying to do long distance, but we’re not.  All I get is radio silence for weeks and then you show  up all over again like nothing happened, expecting to pick up right where we left off, and the cycle begins all over again."
"I don't go radio silent for weeks. It’s you that doesn’t pick up your phone or text me back.”
"Yes you do and I can't do it. I won't do it. Because every time you leave I wonder if it's the last time I'll ever see you and-" You take in a breath to stop the ball of emotion that lodges itself in your throat. "It does something to me. And I'm not saying that what you do is any less important than what I'm trying to accomplish here. I’m not telling you to stop hunting. But this is my life Dean, my future. And I don’t want to put that in jeopardy because you show up every few weeks when you’re feeling restless. I want more than a few days every few weeks. I want more and I'm worth more. And if you can't give that to me that's fine, but please stop coming around and so I can find someone else who can."
The expression on Dean's face shifts, it's no longer the playful smirk or attractive pout, it almost looks heartbroken.
But that can't be right. Dean doesn't see me that way.
You look at where Tim is waiting for you to avoid Dean's gaze. He’s looking down at the watch on his wrist and you can feel his apprehension.
"I've got to get to my lab." You turn away from Dean, but stop halfway to Tim. "It was good to see you Dean. I wish you the best."
As Tim and you begin to walk away, you can feel Dean's eyes on you the whole way up the stairs into the science building, but you refuse to turn back.
"Are you okay?" Tim whispers.
"I will be. Let's just go before Dr. Welsh locks the door." You mutter while pushing down the guilt that rose when you thought of how Dean looked when you walked away.
********************************************
Despite Dr. Welsh’s attempts to lock the door, you were far too angry with Dean to let another man stand in your way, so when you and Tim arrived to lab 10 seconds before the clock struck 6, you shoved your boot in the door before Dr. Welsh could shut it. And by some miracle he let you in. Maybe it was the murder in your eyes.
Tim had been stunned, you were usually more reserved, not quick tempered. But everything that happened with Dean rubbed you the wrong way.
You couldn’t decide if you liked him or hated him. Right now the hate was winning.
How dare he? You thought to yourself, hand clenching on the scalpel so tightly that Tim backed up. How dare he just show up again after I told him not to?
“Y/n, are you okay?” Tim had asked.
“I’m fine. Don’t I look fine?” You’d snapped at him.
Even Dr. Welsh had given you a wide berth through lab.
 After you cleaned up everything it was 10:26 pm, which meant you had a little time before your late shift in the library.
“Did you want to go see if that shawarma food truck is still parked around the corner?” Tim asks hesitantly.
“No. I’m just gonna go to the library and study before my shift.” You mumble, shouldering your backpack and ignoring the urge to think about Dean.
Hopefully he took the hint and he’s gone. The thought brought a prick of guilt. Would that be the last time I ever saw him? Would those be the last words I ever said to him? You fight the urge to call him, to apologize, because the one thing you had wanted to say was that you liked him and you didn’t want him to go, you wanted him to stay in your life permanently. Sure long distance was hard, but for him it would be worth it.
“Oh.” Tim pauses for a minute. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Huh?”
“Well that Dean guy. You seemed kinda upset.”
“I was- am. But it’s okay, give me a few hours I’ll be over it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Sure.”
“Make sure to send the link to that Timelapse of metal rusting.” You try to smile, but the joke falls flat.
“Okay.” Tim watches you go.
The library was only a 9 minute walk from the science building, but it still felt too long. You longed to be lost in your notes, to think of anything else other than Dean, but you couldn’t.
Why did he have to come back? Why couldn’t he have just let it lie? I was doing better- You think about the weeks that followed his last visit, a haze of homework, tests, and work. Well, I was doing okay.
The thrum of music is still in the air, but now less people pass you as you walk down the sidewalk, and the ones that do are holding hands and laughing. Your thoughts shift to Dean again.
I like him, but I have to get over him because it’s not going anywhere. You think about the first time you slept together. Maybe this is my fault, maybe I should have defined this from the beginning. I mean, I know the kind of person he is… That thought makes you pause. Sure the first few times you’d patched his wounds Dean was sexy and flirty, but all the times that followed he seemed, sweet, charming. It wasn’t that you spent every moment in bed, he had taken you out to dinner at the diner down the street, fought with you over the last slice of pie, took you to a bar for drinks  where he shamelessly beat you at pool, other times he waited for you to be done with your classes to make sure that you didn't have to walk home alone at night. You remember how mad he had been when you told him you did that, but gas was so expensive and it was easier to walk the four blocks.
Someone grabs your arm from behind, pulling you out of your memories, and you finally snap. Using the only self defense move you knew, besides S-I-N-G from Miss Congeniality, you knock off the hand and flip the offender over your shoulder prepared to spray them in the face with the mace in your pocket.
But then you realize who it is.
Dean frowns up at you from the ground. “When I taught you that, I didn’t expect you to use it on me.”
“Just be happy that I didn’t pepper spray you.” Your eyes narrow.
 Maybe I should. It would make me feel better.
“Would have been the highlight of my night.” He stands up from the ground brushing off the front of his clothes with a pointed look.
“Dean what are you still doing here?”
“I want to talk.”
“I’ve said all I need to.”
“But I haven’t.”
“I don’t care. You’ve heard what I need to say and I’m sick of you not listening.”
“Y/n-“
“Fine, I’ll say it one more time, but listen this time.  I've never, never depended on anyone else in my life. It's been me, me for a long time.” You poke your finger into his chest to emphasize your point. “Then you just sauntered in and changed everything. You made me care about you, worry about you, and you made me depend on you showing up in my life. Every time you leave it breaks me. Every time I’m in a funk for days. The last time you left, I cried for two days and I didn’t go to any of my classes! I'm trying to be serious about my life. And I can't do that if you show up every few weeks and make me expect something and then leave a few days later and I'm devastated.”
Dean’s eyes widen in surprise. “I didn’t know that.”
“I have to get over you Dean, and I can't do that if you keep showing up. So please just go.” You turn away from him.
His hand comes down on your arm again to turn you back to him. “I don’t want you to get over me.”
“What?”
“Do you think I like leaving you? Do you really think it’s that easy for me?” He looks hurt.
“It certainly seems to be when you walk out after a few days with a smile like it means nothing! Like I mean nothing-“ You fight the tears that burn against your eyes. You wanted to be something for him just as much as he was something for you, but you were afraid. You hadn’t depended on anyone since you graduated and moved away from home. You weren’t used to needing someone in your life this much.
"You mean everything!” Dean shouts grabbing your shoulders. “It’s me that means nothing."
You blink your eyes for a second, not comprehending what he’s trying to say. "Dean what are you talking about?"
"I didn't think you wanted that-" He looks down.
Your eyes trace the slump in his shoulders, the frown on his handsome face, and the way he won’t meet your gaze.
What is he talking about?
You try to think of a time that you’d seen him look so vulnerable, but the only time you imagine was the night you met.
"Wanted what?"
"Me.” Dean’s voice is a whisper.
"I'm confused."
His eyebrows are furrowed, lips pressed into a tight line. “I’m nothing like you.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“You’re a little younger than me and you’re smart and you’ve got this bright future ahead of you. You don’t need someone like me dragging you down-“
“Someone like you? Dragging me down? Dean what are you talking about?" You can't comprehend what he's saying. You reach up to cup his cheeks, but Dean pulls back from you, glancing away.
“I didn’t go to a fancy college, I barely finished high school. I’ve spent most of my life in motel rooms  committing credit card fraud and trying not to die.  And then I met you. You’re funny and caring and so smart, and  I just thought that you would like it more if I came by every once in a while to relieve some tension. I didn’t think that you would want me to stay.”
He didn’t think that I would want him? That can't be right. Dean is so confident usually. You search his face and see the genuine vulnerability behind his green eyes.
“Are you serious?” You ask him.
He doesn’t say anything.
“Dean, you are smart-“
“Not the same way you are”
“Dean.” You can’t help but take his hand. Dean’s green eyes focus on yours for a second, wide and open. “You don’t have to go to college to be smart. You’re resourceful and you know more about supernatural creatures than anyone else. Even the top scientists and doctors in the world don’t believe in them and they went to stuffy old colleges and fight with one another over who’s smarter. I don’t care that you didn’t go to a fancy college. What you do is important, probably more important than what I’m going to do. You protect people, you’ve saved the world more than once, and sure maybe it’s not glamorous to some people but it is to me.”
His eyes widen in surprise.
“Have you thought that maybe I like spending time with you because you’re so different than the people I see everyday?” You ask him softly, squeezing his hand.
“No.” Dean mutters.
“I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, I don’t have lavish wealthy parents bankrolling me. My dad is a mechanic. I work two jobs and send him money so I don’t have to worry about him. Sometimes I feel like a fraud. But when you show up I don’t feel like a freak. With you I feel like I don’t have to pretend, I can just be me. And I like you, a lot. This has never just been about relieving tension or sex for me. Ever. I mean it’s nice-“
“Just nice?” Dean raises an eyebrow.
You flush bright red. “I like spending time with you without that too. All the times we spent laying in bed or went to a bar or went to get food, and we talked were equally as wonderful for me. I like talking with you. I like hearing about your life. I just assumed that you had someone in every state that you visit when you’re feeling restless and that you didn’t want a relationship.”
“There’s no one else. Hasn’t been since I met you.”
Deans eyes lock with yours as you comprehend what he just confessed.
“Really?” Your voice is only a whisper.
“Fuck I’m not good at this romantic comedy shit-“ He mutters to himself shaking his head. “I like you too. I wish that I could be here all the time. I hate leaving you. It’s too quiet. When I’m not here all I do is think about you, what you’re doing, how your day was.”
Your entire body explodes with his words, heart beating so fast you think it’ll grow wings and take flight.
“When I was younger I used to laugh at Sam because he wanted a normal life, but with you I understand.  You’re so different than anyone I’ve ever met and it hurts me when I’m away from you.” Dean continues with a soft smile that makes you lose all feeling in your legs.
He takes your other hand. “I understand that what you’re doing is important and I’m not asking you to quit school. All I’m asking is that you give me a chance. I want to make this work. I know that long distance isn’t easy, but I want to try.” His eyes search yours, begging for a answer, but you can barely breathe let alone speak. You watch his face fall as he takes your silence as your answer. “But I understand if you don’t want to, because you are worth more. You’re worth more than a few days, than a phone call or a text. You deserve someone who can be here with you all the time. You’re worth more than what I can give you. And you shouldn’t have to settle-“
You grab the front of his flannel because you can’t think of anything to say and pull him down to you for a kiss. Pins and needles trace down your spine as his soft lips move against yours. He smiles against your mouth, folding you into him, his large hand on the small of your back just under your backpack causing warmth to shoot down your spine. You lose yourself in the way his body fits around yours
“I’m not settling.” Your hands cup his cheeks as you look deep into his eyes. “I never want you to feel that way, because you are worth a hundred of any man I have ever met in my life. And if it’s my cross to bear to make you understand that every day of my life, then so be it. Because I would be lucky to spend any amount of time with you. I don’t want anyone else. I just want you, Dean. I’ve wanted you since the day we met and every day after. And I’m yours as long as you want me.”
Dean’s smile breaks open something in the pit of your stomach and goosebumps scorch across your skin. “I can’t imagine not wanting you.” He presses his forehead against yours.
You stand there with his warm hand pressed into your back trying to think of another time that you felt even a fraction of what you feel for him. You think about your high school boyfriend, about a few of the guys you dated in during your undergrad years, but you come up with nothing. Because you can’t compare him to anyone else you’ve ever met. And it hurt you to think that Dean thought so little of himself in the grand scheme of things.
He leans down to kiss you again, pulling you against his chest so tight that everything blissfully falls away.
“Are you hungry?” He whispers against your lips after a minute.
“Yes, but my shift at the library starts soon. I’m there til 2.” You tighten your hands at the back of his neck, not wanting to let him go.
“Okay. I’ll go with you.”
“Dean it’s okay if you just want to go back to my apartment and sleep. I can give you the key-“ You notice the dark circles under his eyes, but you know that Dean wasn’t one to complain about being tired.
“It’s worth being tired if I get to see you.” Dean smiles. “But I’ll go get us some food, because I’m hungry too.”
“Don’t forget the pie.”
“Have I ever?” He brushes his lips to yours one more time, but you don’t remove your arms from around his neck. “You’re going to have to let me go doll.”
“Just 5 more minutes.”
********************************************
You spend the weekend together in your apartment. All those blissful moments together solidify the thought that this is real, that this time it’s going to be different. Every night going to bed with Dean tucking you against him and waking up every morning with your head on his chest feels like a dream, and you never want to wake. Every kiss and intimate moment between you feels like more, and you have to keep reminding yourself that it isn’t just sex, hasn’t ever been just sex. Dean wants to be there with you all the time, hold you close to him and share things with you. And this time you finally understand that you do help him forget and know that you do bring him as much comfort as he brings you.
When Monday comes and Dean has to go, you try not to think of it as the end.
Dean leans back against the door of the Impala, his hands on your hips, green eyes blazing in the sun, but it’s his eyes that warm you more than the sun’s rays.
"Sweetheart-" Dean begins, sensing what you’re thinking. His thumbs rub smooth circles against waist where your t-shirt rests.
"I know." You press your face into his flannel, inhaling the scent you ascribe to Dean. He smells like oil, leather, and the spicy scent of the soap he uses that tickles your nose.
"Hey." His free hand comes under your chin to raise your gaze back to his. "I promise I'm gonna come back. I promise that we're going to make this work. It’s going to be different.” He cups your cheek, eyes soft and understanding.
“I know, but you’re still leaving.” Your tighten your arms around his chest.
“I wish I didn’t have to. But Sam called, he needs me-“
“I know.” You breathe.
You don’t want Dean to feel any worse than he does about leaving, especially when you remember what he said to you a few days ago, about you deserving more and about how he wished he could be more for you. Deep down you know that both of you are determined to make this work, so you put on a smile.
 “It’s okay.” You gently rub his back.   “You’ll be back in 2 weeks and I’ll be on spring break in a month.”
“Does that mean I’ll get to see you in a bikini?” Dean grins.
“You’ll have to wait and see.”
“Hmm. Well until I see you-“ He raises his right hand from where it rests on your hip to remove the large silver ring from his finger. "Don't panic, it's not an engagement ring." Dean's smile breaks you a little.  "Just me promising that I'll come back, that I'll call and text you so much that you'll be sick of me." He slides the ring onto your thumb, the weight comforting.
"I could never be sick of you."
“Just you wait.” He winks, holding your hand to his chest. “I bet I can prove you wrong.”
“I welcome the challenge.”
The kiss goodbye is bittersweet, but you hold yourself together, refusing to cry as Dean gets into his car and leaves. You watch the Impala disappear around the corner, taking your heart with it, but just as it does your phone rings.
“Hello?”
“I miss you.” Dean’s voice fills the line and this time you can’t stop the tears.
“I miss you too.”
“I promise I’ll be back in two weeks.”
“Okay. Please be careful.” You remember all the stories he's told you over the time you’ve known him, all the horrible things that happened to him and Sam. Sometimes you wish he hadn’t, because you can’t help but worry.
“I’m always careful.” You can hear him rolling his eyes.
“As the person who has spent the past 2 years patching you up, I can say with certainty that you are not always careful.”
“Then I promise to be more careful than usual.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” The wind picks up, pulling your hair from the ponytail at the back of your head.
“I’ll call you when I make it back to the bunker.”
“Good.”
“Bye y/n.”
“Bye Dean.”
Your gaze drops to the heavy ring on your thumb and you hold tight to the hope and belief that this time is different, allowing the memories of the past few days to brush away any doubts that threaten the thought of what the future will bring.
********************************************
Thank you so much for reading!  I am considering doing a series with this reader and Dean, but let me know what y’all think!
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the-likesofus · 1 year
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Buddie Fic Recs
AKA Talented Mutuals Tuesday
Except I spent so long making this list that the timezones changed over BUT I wanted to show my mutuals some love and now that we are going into the hiatus I thought you might all like a list of quality fics to keep you occupied while there is no new Weewoo show. 
I don't know if anyone will actually want to join in on this but if you do the rules are simple:
SHOW YOUR MUTUALS SOME LOVE! Share your favourite fics, (or gifs, edits, literally anything that your very talented mutuals have made), as many or as few as you like but let's share the love around <3
Apologises in advance for the long post btw
@speaknowdiaz I would literally read anything that April writes and would probably sell a limb for the incredible WIPs I know she's still cooking up but here are a couple of my faves:
pining and anticipation (I don't want you like a best friend)
Buck challenges Eddie to try to hit on him after teasing Eddie for not having any ‘game’. This fic is very funny and very soft.
believe in one thing (i won't go away)
This fic hit me straight in the feels. Buck and Eddie go to couples therapy even though they aren't a couple and they work through some stuff.
@thosetwofirefighters Incredible amazing Nat ily xx
Say It All Out Loud
Eddie comes out to Aunt Pepa after his ‘date’ with Vanessa. I am a little bit biased towards this one because she did write it for me but it's honestly just so good!
How to Cure Boredom: Buckley Edition
The 118 are stuck at the firehouse during a slow shift and Buck entertains them all by mattress-surfing the loft stairs. It’s soft and silly and in the same universe as her other fic Safe in His Arms.
@loveyourownsmiilee The wonderful amazing Juju not only writes incredible meta and keeps us all fed with Oliver content but Juju also writes wonderful buddie fic. 
When Were You Under Me?
Who doesn’t love a Friends AU. This is Buck and Eddie as Ross and Rachel and it is hilarious and so sweet. 
You should also check out her Buddie Language Meta if you have not read it before <3
@elvensorceress Jenwyn’s work always astounds me so be sure to check these out:
Color Him Father, Color Him Love
I will scream from the rafters how much I adore this fic and yes it did make me cry (happy tears). It’s a look into Buck’s head after his sperm donor kid is born and he realizes what Christopher (and Eddie) truly mean to him. I know I have recced this before but it deserves all the love. 
Unless You Ask Me To
Eddie dates a man for the first time, and Buck is completely 'Fine'. This is a preemptive rec because it is one chapter away from completion and I have been saving it to binge in one sitting but knowing Jenwyn and her incredible talent I guarantee this will be worth the read. 
@spotsandsocks If anyone’s work is guaranteed to make me sob like a baby (happy, sad, or tears of laughter) it’s Spotty. 
Everything But (temptation)
This is Spotty’s newest fic and it's just brilliant. Buck is practicing extreme self-control whilst Eddie is being an irresistible menace. 
Could Have, Should Have, Would Have
Buck finally tells Eddie he loves him right before Eddie’s new boyfriend is supposed to meet Christopher. Honestly, all I can say about this fic is that it’s a masterpiece and I screamed many times while reading it. 
@shortsighted-owl Wonderful amazing Owly (Abbi). I appreciate you so and you make my dash so happy xx
Of foam-moustached kisses, and button combinations
For all your sweet domestic buddie needs this is the fic. Eddie is practicing a video game to get better than Chris and Buck makes fun of his ex-technophobe boyfriend. 
Also THIS EDIT SET to the lyrics of You’re All That I Have by Snow Patrol make me assdffgghjjklkll
@lilbuddie Okay, this one is just a brag because Minja doesn’t actually have any fics published yet (side eye) but I wanna make sure she is on everyone’s radar for when she does because yall are not ready for the incredible amazing talent that is this girl’s writing!! So go check out the snippets on her Tumblr and badger her until she finishes something plssssss
@wheelsupin-five Hi! <3
Almost Almost Almost
This adorable of Buck who is always cold and Eddie warms him up I– asfffghhjkklllll
Under Kitchen Light
SO SOFT! Buck wakes up and Eddie isn't there, Buck finds him in the kitchen. 
@rogerzsteven Simi owns my heart and by that I mean my heart is locked in a cage in Simi’s basement where it is occasionally beaten to a pulp by the most incredibly angsty fics you've ever read.
Cleanse
Buck is extremely nauseous and Eddie takes care of him while I sob over them in a corner.
build me a home underground (free from light and sound)
This fic is so brutal in all the best ways, my heart was in my throat the entire read! Buck gets trapped in a sensory deprivation room while the 118 and Athena race to find him. 
@ashavahishta another incredibly talented mutual of mine
out of ashes
Is it really a Meegs rec list if I don’t rec this fic honestly it's engraved on my soul. This is a criminal minds/greys inspired fic where Buck is kidnapped and tortured until the 118 can find him. This fic is so so well written and means a million things to me I could never explain but pleaseeeee read it!! 
@jobairdxx hello lovely xx
Oh, We Pray to Make it Through the Night
Highly recommend this fic, I do love a near-death experience fic! Buck gets injured on a call and Eddie falls asleep holding vigil at his bedside. 
Jules also writes beautiful poetry on Tumblr so go read some of that too <3
@monsterrae1 MISS RAE! YOU INCREDIBLE THING! <3
love is on its way
I know we’re all a little bit in mourning over the couch theory but it lives on in our hearts and in this fic which has six moments between Buck and Eddie on the Diaz couch (and she’s a wee bit spicy too).
Buck's café (take my heart, just not my order)
Coffee Shop AU. Buck runs the shop where the 118 order all their drinks on shift. I absolutely adore this fic! 
@alyxmastershipper RYAN!! INCREDIBLY TALENTED MUTUAL THAT YOU ARE!! 
there's always been a rainbow hangin' over your head
If “aasdsdfghhjkl” was a person it was me reading this fic. Eddie comes out to Buck, receives a quirky mug, and gets together with the love of his life. In that order.
@bekkachaos Wonderful, amazing Bekka xxx
lose yourself in the feeling
I am a sucker for ‘accidental kisses’ and this was just wonderful. Buck is so excited about Maddie and Chim getting engaged that he kisses Eddie when he tells him. 
start me up, open my eyes
Okay, the mild sexual content tag is a lie, nothing has ever been closer to smut without actually being smut than this fic, I have never been so wound up reading a fic. Bekka builds the tension so so well. 
@sibylsleaves honestly I'm still a little in shock that we're mutuals now so please excuse me while I fangirl over your incredible writing!
with a bird at your door
Eddie starts spending all his time with Buck. Which would be fine if it weren't for the fact that Buck is in love with him. This fic is the perfect mixture of pining, angst, and a happy ending. And yes I think about this fic frequently I love it okay. 
@mysteriouslyyounggalaxy last but certainly not least (for now). hello lovely xx
(tell the gravedigger) better dig two
Missing scenes from while eddie is trapped in the well followed by the most perfect extended reunion scene. We all know I am a sucker for fics based on the well incident, it’s literally how i started writing for buddie but omg this fic!!!! 
Remember to share the love around and happy hiatus to you all.
Love, Meegs xxxx
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kookblurx · 1 month
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" I love you " - cloud pov [ oneshot ]
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→ SUMMARY: cloud was never good with his words. a guy who appears to be cold towards others but since a few days he seems .. different towards you. its like something is burning on his tounge.
→ GENRE: fluff; awkward; innocent; confession; mutual feelings; golden retriver energy.
→ RATING: 13+
→ NOTE: i know this is something completely different from the things i normally write. normally i only write about jungkook and taehyung but since FF7 came out .. i found my love for Cloud again. So i decided to write a pov about him. maybe more will follow on the future. also please keep in mind that english isnt my mother tounge, thanks. IMPORTANT; The city mentioned never appeared in the games. its my own interpretation! also my gaming povs mostly never matches with the games.
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♡.°₊ˎ SONG FOR THIS ONESHOT
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your hands were sweaty as you were sitting outside in front of the old house. it wasnt something fancy, just an old block house deep inside the woods which served as some kind of shelter for your little group. The cold evening air blew a few strands of hair into your face. It would be a while before he would come outside to join you. for a short moment you regretted volunteering for this sort of misson, not that it would be difficult. this wasnt the reason why you suddenly became so nervous. You looked up at the darkening sky with your lips pressed together. A few small stars could be seen here and there, so it was a perfect evening to search for a flower which only blooms once a month on a full moon night. The fabric of your light blue dress began to rustle as you moved back and forth on the tree trunk. its been 20 minutes already, what took him that long? you wiped your sweaty hands on your dress once again. If this continues you would have to go back inside to change again. surely tifa would raise an eyebrow, probably asking herself if that was some kind of sheme from you. making sure that "he" will really come with you. he trusted you, so you trusted him, naturally. but still, you were nervous. This would be the first time in months that you've done something alone together. The others accompanied you on every other mission. You loved your friends but sometimes you wished you had more time alone with him. from behind the old wooden door finally opened but you were too nervous to turn around to face him yet.
"are you ready?" his voice was gentle in your ear which why you finally turned around.
the second you did, you cursed yourself for not preparing a bit longer. the man in front of you was none other than Cloud Strife, your best friend, your companion and the men you had a crush on for so many months now. cloud had always been beautiful in your eyes but tonight he looked completely different. his armor was gone, so he only wore his dark turtleneck tank top, matched with a pair of dark pants. your eyes traveled down on his arms as you noticed that he also werent wearing the gloves which he was normally wearing. compared to him you looked like always. even his blonde styled hair looked a bit messy underneath the rising moonlight.
"whats wrong? did you saw a ghost?" raising one of his eyebrows, cloud crossed his arms in front of his chest. "i- uh no! you just look so different ..." "dont be silly and come ..."
without another word he finally started walking ahead. cloud never talked much, not even with you so it wasnt suprising that he didnt paid much attention to your remark. slowly you started to follow him into the woods. the both of you only heard rumours about this special flower. apparently it glows in the dark whenever moonlight hits one of its petals. beside that it didnt had any powers but tifa really wanted to plant one on her garden. at first you thought you could go alone but the second cloud heard that you were going outside at night, alone, he decided to tag along.
fidgeting with your fingers all you could see was his back in front of you. cloud even left his buster sword at home. looking down at his bare hand a slight glimmer of red crawled up your cheeks. there was only one time were you held hands with him and this only happened because of a small accident. it happened on one of the many Shinra ships. cloud was busy fighting off some of the soldiers while you were busy cracking the code to the main gate. It wasn't a difficult task as long as cloud could distract the others, but one soldier didn't seem to fall for it. suddenly someone grabbed your shoulder and pushed you backwards. you landed roughly against the nearest wall. Of course, cloud noticed this and immediately rushed to your side. he grabbed your hand to pull you behind him. the whole time he protected you, he never let go of your hand. so that was the closest you ever got to holding his hand with him. beside that nothing romantic ever happened between the two of you. after a while you came to the conclusion that cloud, probably, doesnt like you like this. in the beginning this perception was hard and you were heartbroken for days. maybe it was too much to ask for, considering how clumsy cloud is and that he doesnt really talk about his feelings.
"everything okay?" you nearly bumped against his chest, not noticing that cloud has stopped in his steps. were you sighing again? did he heard it? you could feel how your cheeks grew hotter with every passing second. in a fast motion you shook your head as cloud took a step into your direction. "are you sure? you were sighing pretty loudly. are you already tired? If yes .. dont worry we are nearly there"
you wanted to answer something but cloud turned around again. expecting to take up his pace you took a step forward but in the next moment something warm slipped into your hand. suprised your eyes darted downward and at the same time your heart nearly jumped out of your chest. cloud held your hand, he really held your hand. slowly your fingers closed around his palm. Whenever you pictured this day in your head, you never imagined that his hand would be so soft. it was like you were holding a fluffy cloud in your palm, carefully not to crush it.
with a slow motion cloud slowly started to walk again. like usual he didnt addressed the thing he just did and you were fine with it. by now you were too busy to calm down your pounding heart inside your chest. slowly cloud pulled you between some green bushes into a clearing. you could imagine that in this meadow many beautiful flowers were blooming, since its been night most of them were sleeping peacefully. As your eyes scanned the meadow, they stopped in a certain place. You immediately let go of cloud hand just so you could run to that spot.
"hey Y/N! whats wrong?" his voice rang in your ear but your eyes didnt left the spot. this was it, this wasnt a dream right?
suddenly you came to a halt and kneeled down on the ground. right in front of you were the glowing flower. it was so beautiful that you didnt even noticed how cloud kneeled down on the ground right beside you.
"its beautiful isnt it ...?" you asked him as your fingertips brushed over the delicate petals "yes ... more than beautiful" "say cloud how should we-"
the moment you turned your head into his direction you noticed that he was looking at you. cloud's face was so close and yet so far at the same time. from this distance you could clearly see his eyes which looked so beautiful to you. some other people were scared of him because of the Mako in them but for you, it was something totally normal. the glow from the flower was illuminating his face and for the first time you were able to see a slightly red shimmer on his cheeks. was he blushing? slowly you lift your hand up just to make sure youre not dreaming. mid air cloud catched your wrist with his own hand just to place it against his cheeks. at the same time your eyes widen feeling his soft warm skin at the back of your hand. what was wrong with him all of a sudden? why was he so affectionate?
"im sorry. i lied to you Y/N" "w-what do you mean ... ?" "tifa didnt wanted that flower. i just ... wanted to show you something beautiful ... and i thought such a flower would be the perfect thing you would enjoy"
you could see the hurt in his eyes, probably thinking you would be mad at him now. shaking your head you turned your hand inside of his palm into an direction so you were able to cup his cheek. how could you have been so blind? yes cloud never talked about his feelings but he always made sure to show them. especially around you he was always considerate, making sure that you felt comfortable on all their journeys.
a small smile appeared on your face "im not mad. thank you for showing me something so .. beautiful cloud."
the moment you pulled away from him to get up again, cloud squeezed your hand more tightly. in the next second your cheek was met with his chest, the soft fabric of his turtleneck shirt carressing your skin.
"cloud ...?" "Y/N I ..."
it was clear to you that he was struggling to find the right words. with a smile on your face you slowly lifted your head up, the red on his cheeks grew heavier with every second he kept looking at you. anxiety crawled up inside of you as his grip loosens around your body, what if he changed his opinion about you? a nervous chuckle escaped your mouth as you wanted to turn your head away but clouds hand on your cheek forced you to look back. there wasnt much time to contemplate what to say because in the next moment his warm lips met yours. at once your whole body felt like jelly as it immediately relaxed inside of his arms. it wasnt a passionate kiss he shared with you, it was a soft and careful kiss. clouds heartbeat hammered against your chest, it was so strong and loud that you could hear and feel it. as you wrapped both of your arms around his body to kiss him back, he slowly broke the kiss. clouds lips were still hovering above yours, just millimeters away. it was a sweet distraction from the words he finally managed to say;
"I love you, YN"
those words were enough, nothing more needed to be said. with a small nod your head moves forward to occupy his lips again. that was everything cloud needed as an an answer. the moon kept shining down on the both of you, wrapping your bodies in blue moonlight. it was like the whole forest approved of your feelings to each other as all the animals went quiet. around the both of you some fireflies took off from the grass into the sky. this moment belonged to you and cloud, no one could take this away from you anymore.
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softtdaisy · 11 months
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DESCRIPTION I All your relationship with Charles was based on dares. How far can it go before it becomes too much?
PAIRING I Charles Leclerc × fem!reader
WORDS COUNT I 3,7k
A/N I I never thought I would go this far with this story but I'm so happy with the way it turned out. I really hope you will like it as much as I loved writing it 💜
Ever since the day you met, you and Charles had been playing the same silly game. In French, they called cap ou pas cap. The idea was to dare the other person to do something.
It all started during your parents’ wedding.
Being six years old at a wedding was the funniest thing to do. You were watching adults having fun, drinking and dancing together. You were sitting at a table, imagining your own life as an adult. How you would be singing out loud, dancing like tomorrow didn’t exist and finding a cute boy to love if you didn’t have someone already. You imagined all the cool clothes you would be wearing, clearly better than those they were wearing now.
You were so focused on the life you were dreaming for yourself that you didn’t see the cute boy walking to you. “You’re bored too?” he asked shyly.
There weren’t that many children in the room that night. Not many of your parents’ friends brought them. But some couples couldn’t accept to let their children home. Just like the Leclerc.
You knew Lorenzo because your dad had been tutoring him a few weeks ago.
You knew Arthur because his mom came to your place to introduce him to yours.
But you never met Charles. You knew you were the same age, your mothers kept saying you should hang out together one day. You knew he was doing karting which is why you never saw him before. You knew he looked adorable because you’ve seen pictures of him.
You knew that your parents quite hoped you too would fall in love. But you were also big enough to know it was a little too early to think about that.
“Yes, I’m quite done with dancing with adults that try to say something funny. They’re not funny.” You rolled your eyes and made Charles laugh. He sat next to you, taking your answer as a right to stay with you. And it wasn’t like you would ask him to walk away.
“They keep telling me I must be breaking every girls’ heart and I don’t have the courage to tell them I don’t even have a girlfriend.” He sighed and took your drink.
You were acting like little adults in your own world. Drinking like life was too difficult to deal with, when all you had to care about was homework and karting for him. You chatted about some people you knew, mostly your parents’ mutual friends and some of their children like two gossips. And when the photographer asked if he could take a picture of you, you posed like two old friends.
It wasn’t until it was almost midnight that Charles offered to play a game of dares. Taking a picture with Arthur’s comforter. Both sharing a dance with someone the other had picked. Stealing someone’s piece of cake.
It started nicely. You had no idea that this would be the start and the thing that ruled your whole friendship.
You and Charles started to hang out more, or as much as you could since you had to ask your families every time. You had a weekly snack on Wednesday, and you convinced your parents to bring you to as many of Charles’ races.
As the years went on, it became easier to be best friends. You were calling each other all the time, sending stupid texts and would take the bus to each other’s places without your parents being there.
But never did the dares stop. They evolved with you.
As little children, you were still daring each other stupid and innocent things. Telling your parents, a whole crazy story that had actually happened in a movie. Asking Charles to steal his brother’s clothes and wear them for as long as Lorenzo doesn’t notice. Stealing a glass of wine…well this one wasn’t too innocent, and you both developed a hate for wine.
From children you became teenagers. And the dares became more adult. Or you tried to make yourself look more adult. You never dared each other to do dangerous things or anything. Just…stupidest. Like kissing someone you barely admitted having a crush on, missing a karting appointment to go to the beach (to your defense, it was your birthday) or participating in the school theater play. You were still a little mad that this started as a little dare, and you ended up with the main role.
But worse than that, you became teenagers that were slowly developing feelings. And none of you hesitated to dare the other some things that would make them jealous. You did kiss Max Verstappen after a racing kart when, stupidly, Charles dared you to kiss the winner. He thought he would win. He thought he would finally be able to kiss you, even if it was through a game. Thinking it would be less weird for the two of you.
He didn’t expect you to maintain the dare and kiss his worst opponent.
“I can’t believe you kissed him.”
You were in his family car, driving home from the race. His dad was outside, ordering food so you could spend the rest of the evening together at home. Charles was at the front. You could see him with his arms crossed and his angry face through the rearview mirror. “Then you shouldn’t have dared me to kiss the winner.” It wasn’t that you didn’t understand why he was mad. It was obvious. But still, it was his dare. Not yours.
“I was supposed to win!” he yelled, turning around to face you.
“And how is that my problem Charles? I didn’t ruin your race.”
His dad came back right after your reply. So, you didn’t get to hear his own answer to this. But you had time to think about it. The problem wasn’t that you kissed Max, even if you were pretty sure that he wouldn’t be that mad if it was anybody else. It was that you didn’t kiss him.
You spend the whole trip silently thinking about that.
“Charles wait!” you screamed when you were finally at this place and leaving the car. At first, he kept walking like he didn’t hear you. It was Charles: ignoring the problem rather than facing it. Even if the problem was one of his favorite people in the world.
Since he didn’t want to listen to you, you took the fan you brought to the race and threw it at him. “Eh!” he yelled, finally turning around to face you.
“Good, now you’re listening.” You walked to him with a big smile. You noticed how close he was to just walk away again and avoid the confrontation. But you didn’t give him the time. You grabbed his wrist to make sure he won’t leave. “I dare you…”
“Oh god, can we please st…”
“To kiss me. Charles.”
He didn’t expect that. And you could tell from the way his eyes grew big and his mouth opened without a single word coming out. “That’s where the problem lies, right? You thought I would kiss you there. Then I dare you to kiss me now.”
And he did. Because you had promised to never break a dare. And because he had been dreaming about this moment for so long.
So, Charles broke the small distance between the two of you. He approached his face so close to yours that you could feel the air coming out of his mouth. Your eyes stopped blinking to not miss every single moment of this. How he licked his lips. How his eyes were going down and forth between your eyes and your lips. How he brought his hand to your face.
You closed your eyes only when his lips finally touched yours.
It was a simple kiss. One shared but two teenagers who still had a hard time dealing with their feelings. That couldn’t find the line between game and reality.
It would be lying to tell you both didn’t abuse the kissing dare. It was almost like you couldn’t do it otherwise. It would be wrong.
You did it when you were both jealous of someone else. Especially because when you were both 18, you were playing with fire and flirting with more people than you should. You wanted to see which one would break first. Which would stop the game and say it’s over.
As much as you believed in yourself, you were convinced you would be the one giving in. Charles’ kisses were phenomenal. But they weren’t healing your broken heart. The one that kept breaking each time you were seeing him with someone new.
But Charles was the one who changed the game.
You were lying in his hotel bedroom, after partying during the post-race celebration. You were drunk, you were tired, and you were cuddling like it wasn’t hot outside. But you couldn’t resist Charles’ arms, how no matter where you were it will always bring you home. To a safe place where nothing could happen.
You looked at him, lying shirtless, with his wet and messy hair all around the pillow, his hand caressing your back. He looked like a living dream. Your living dreams. The one you had since you were a child. You brought a finger to his face and started to trace his lips. “Kiss me” he mumbled. You weren’t sure you heard him right. You sat up slightly to look at him right when he turned his head to look at you.
“You didn’t ask properly.” You replied with amusement in your voice.
“I don’t want to ask properly anymore.” He said, bringing his hand from your back to your neck.
Before you knew, your face was just above his. One movement and you kissed. One movement and you admit that it was more than a game for you.
One movement that you did.
That night, you didn’t need to dare him to make love to you either. For once, the game was put apart and forgotten.
And during the first weeks of your new and official relationship, you completely forgot about dare. You were living your love naturally. Without the constant thought of asking each other to do crazy things. Then it came back one day. Out of nowhere. For a stupid dare that didn’t even mean something. Just Charles daring you to go skinny dipping in your pool since you were alone.
But hearing him dare you was like listening to a song you haven’t heard in years. Eating a meal you haven’t been eating in months. Seeing a movie you haven’t seen since childhood.
It felt wrong. It felt weird. Somehow a little relieving too. Like nothing had changed.
And so it’s started again. Childish dares like you used to do. More sensual ones now that you were a couple. Stupider ones because you wanted to play with the limits. And sadder ones when you were arguing.
When it was good, the dares were fun.
When it was bad, the dares were terrible.
“Stop blaming me for your bad performances Charles!”
The Monaco GP was over for hours now. And Charles didn’t win either of the two F2 races. Worse, he couldn’t even finish them. You could understand that he was mad, that he was angry at the team for losing his home race. Here. In front of everyone.
That didn’t mean he had to let it all go on you.
“Then what am I supposed to do, hm?” You hated when he talked like that. Like a pretentious brat who couldn't understand that not everybody agrees with him. Like you were too stupid to understand that he could be angry.
“I don’t know, control your anger? Or at least, not fuming against me.”
“You don’t have to come if you can’t accept my bad moments. Don’t inflict that on me that.”
He wasn’t even looking at you. Drinking a stupid beer on his friend’s balcony, because he didn’t even want to come home and face his parents. Watching the party happening outside like a poor boy that wasn’t invited. It was wrong. He was invited. He didn’t want to celebrate somebody else, selfishly.  
“You’re being mean, Charles.” You sighed, walking to him, hoping you could finally calm him down.
But then he hit. Harder. “You know what?” he asked, not even turning to you like you were important enough. “I dare you to not come to the next race. So, you won’t suffer from my terrible nature.”
He knew you wouldn’t say no. None of you ever said no to a dare. So, you waited a few seconds, expecting him to break it. But that never happened before either. When a dare was said, you had to respect it.
So many things happened in a month. So many things that made Charles regret even daring you this. He should have kept it to himself. Let the anger disappear before saying something so stupid.
He needed you in Baku. He needed you by his side after going through the worst event of his life.
But he dared you not to come.
And you respected it.
You watched your boyfriend doing a perfect race weekend from home. Winning the race for someone that wasn’t there. You should have been there. Hugging him. Kissing him. Telling him how proud you were instead of texting.
It made you realize how bad this situation was. How childish it was.
“This can’t go on.” You told him when he came back.
“What do you mean?” Charles asked without even needing an explanation. He knew.
It was obvious to the both of you that something had changed. That none of you had the heart to play those silly games anymore. But more than that. You both weren’t so sure you knew how to live with each other without them. Your whole relationship had been ruled by dares. Making decisions through them.
“Is this really the life you want for us? Not being able to talk to each other or ask anything without having to put dares between us?”
Selfilishy, you hoped Charles would reassure you. Take the bigger role and make sure you still believe in your relationship.
The truth was he was just as confused and scared as you were. Worse, he felt guilty and knew it was wrong. But he wasn’t sure he was mature enough to stop that.
“I don’t know.” He sighed and you looked at him silently, waiting for more. “I don’t know what I want, I don’t know what we can do. I know nothing ok? Life has been a mess and I know nothing anymore!” You could see in his eyes all the anger and frustration he was keeping for himself.
“I’ve spent most of my life with you. Look what we became.” There was something more in what Charles just said. More than just a fact you already knew.
He spent most of his life playing with you. But now, at 20, was it really the life he wanted? Was it how a sane relationship was supposed to be like? And if you don’t stop it now, how could you know how far you’ll go?
“Charles, I dare you…” you started with a broken voice.
“Wait, no, we can…” he tried to stop you. Because he perfectly knew where this was going. He knew the game. He knew the outcome.
“To stop seeing each other for five years.”
There it was. The ultimate dare. The one you both needed but refused to see. The one you had no other choice to say to finally find a way of getting better. Feeling better.
Being better lovers.
Charles didn’t even try to negotiate or change your mind. Because if you didn’t say it, he would have. For once, he was happy to not be the one taking the rough decision. “Can I get a last kiss?” He asked. No dare. No obligation. Just a request from a broken heart to another one.
And you were glad you accepted it. You kept the feeling of his lips on yours for weeks after that day. It made things a little easier.
At least it did until you started to forget how he tasted. Or how it felt to be in his arms. Or the smell of his perfume. Or how good you used to feel after he made love to you like you were the most important person in the entire world.
Five years was a lot. But you both understood after a while that you clearly need it to grow up and be a better person.
Not seeing him didn’t mean you couldn’t follow his career. You even cheated one day, during the first year, for the Monaco GP. You hide in the crowd to watch him race. A part of you thought that he didn’t win because the universe was waiting for the day you would be together again.
You watched Charles dating other people too. People that weren’t you. People that could touch him and love him like you were supposed to. Like you used to.
That was what made you start a relationship on your own. At first you secretly claimed it was to learn how to be a better girlfriend for Charles. But as the years went on and you noticed he was still with the same girl, you convinced yourself you had the right to be happy with someone else too.
Five years went faster than you thought. When the new year started, your only thought was that you were getting him back. But you couldn’t be sure you would. Maybe Charles loved his new life like it was. Maybe he didn’t even remember the dare or the date you could finally reconcile.
Maybe he didn’t love you anymore.
When Charles received the invitation, he knew it wasn’t a coincidence. As much as it broke his heart to see your name linked with your fiancé, he knew.
Your wedding was happening right on the date the last dare was supposed to end. You were getting married on the day Charles could finally see you again.
Charles didn’t forget about you either. You were always on his mind. When he started a race, he wanted to make sure you would hear about him winning. When he posted pictures with one of his girlfriends, he wanted to make you jealous. When he was alone, he was dreaming about you being by his side. For good.
None of his relationships lasted because he could never love them like he loved you. It wasn’t a surprise that he accepted to come to your wedding alone. Not like he would have brought anyone else, anyway.
“You look…stunning.”
Charles found his way to your dressing room. He waited a little to make sure you were by yourself. He didn’t have the heart to face anybody. Worse, face your fiancé.
But you were alone. Sitting in front of the mirror. Knowing deep well that today would change your life. Either for better or for worse.
When you turned around and saw Charles standing there, you knew the answer.
“You came.” you got up immediately, taking a step toward before stopping. You needed a minute to appreciate it. He was here. The same young adult you left five years ago today was in front of you. Looking more beautiful than ever. Looking more adult, more confident. Exactly like you always imagined Charles to look like in the future.
“You invited me.” He replied. Doing exactly the same thing. Appreciating the view of the woman he loved. Except he had to deal with something more. The sight of you in a wedding dress. Something he always dreamt to see. But for him. Not for any guy. “I would have traveled to the other side of the world to see you today.”
Facing each other, you realized why you decided to get married today. It would be the ultimate proof that your love was big enough to fight for.
“Do you love him?” His arms were crossed against his chest, like he was waiting impatiently for an answer. He looked like a professional negotiator here.
“Charles…”
“I said, do you love him?” The way he looked at you directly in the eyes was like the confirmation you needed. You both grew up. None of you need those stupids games anymore to be honest and say what you need to say or do what you need to do. Charles didn’t have to force you to speak the truth by daring you to do it. You were both honest and adults now.
Adults are still in love with each other.
“I don’t.” You started walking towards him like he was the light at the end of the tunnel. The one you’ve been chasing all these years and that you were finally seeing. You knew you could do no wrong by walking to him. “I love you, Charles.”
One second. It took him one second to grab your face between his hands and give you the passionate kiss you both needed. Again, you could feel the determination on the way he was holding you tight, making sure you wouldn’t leave again. Or the way he was kissing you so deeply almost like he needed to discover you again. Entirely. One of his hands got lost on your perfect styled hair.
Charles was here to destroy the engagement you made. So you could make a new one with him.
“Can I make one last dare?” He was breathless against your mouth. It reminded you of the countless times you let your excitement take the upper hand and have sex in the first intimate place you could find. You didn’t even have the strength to reply, too busy thinking about how bad you wanted his lips on yours again. So you simply nodded at his request.
You saw a smile growing on his face. “I dare you to run away with me.”
Eight words. Eight words that you never even wished to hear.
“You can never say no to a dare.” He told you the night you met.
You didn’t plan on saying no today. At least, not to him.
So you took Charles' hand. Or actually offered him yours.
Making a pact. Accepting a dare for the last time.
“I won’t let you go ever again.” He told you once you were sitting in his Ferrari, ready to ride together and forget about the mess your love created.
“Dare?”
“Dare.”
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gojhoes · 3 months
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Bleed Me Dry
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*art from nerdreamer | *divider from benkeibearnever written anything like this before but yolo (also this art is PHENOMENAL)
- contents: sfw, college au, no jujutsu sorcerers/cursed spirits au, jumping on the vampire au train, gojo x reader (ofc), fem!reader, characters in their early 20s, mutual pining - warnings: stalking, bodily fluids, drugs and alcohol. - wc: ~4.3k
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Have you ever met someone and felt that you knew them in the past life?
You'd never much cared for religion, nor did you think much about the possibility of an afterlife. There were too many denominations for a single one to be correct. Not at all worth the millennia of wars waged in the name of someone's God. How was a god supposed to be benevolent and holy when they inspire such violence? Yes, you were a cynic through and through, remaining skeptical of all things damned and divine.
But then you met Satoru Gojo, and all that stubborn disbelief fell to pieces.
It was the weekend before the beginning of your final year of college. You'd been dragged along to some party being thrown by a friend-of-a-friend's-friend to kick off the start of the semester. Shoko, your roommate and impromptu best friend, was crushing hard on one of the boys in some club of hers, and she'd asked you to join her as moral support.
Just like the venue, the party itself was nothing special. In someone's parents' house that was already well on its way to being trashed, the room smelled of marijuana and faintly of unpleasantly scented air freshener. You recognized a few people, as the university that you attended was a rather small private technical school. Everybody seemed to know everybody even if you considered yourself an introvert.
You and Shoko found yourselves sitting around a card table with several others amid a very serious drinking game. Shoko was trying her best, but the poor girl was already three shots in while you sat back and observed.
"Aren't you going to talk to him?" you encouraged, following Shoko's line of sight until it landed on a tall blonde leaning against the wall. He was good-looking with his broad shoulders and neatly groomed hair that complemented the glasses hanging from the bridge of his nose. You could easily see why Shoko was interested in him.
"He's tall," you commented.
Shoko was beaming, her eyes practically heart-shaped while she talked about him. "He goes by Nanami- we were in the same research group last semester. And he plays rugby."
Shoko was a Microbio major carving her path to medical school. If this mystery classmate took the same courses as her, then he must've been smarter than you'd originally given him credit for.
You grinned mischievously. “Go,” you said.
She gaped at you, her brown eyes wide with fear. “I can’t!”
You pushed her bodily with your hand on her back, urging her to go to talk to this Nanami. She stumbled a bit, already tipsy, and shot you a glare.
“Go," you insisted. "I'm going to find food.”
Ignoring Shoko's frustrated groan, you trickled over to the kitchen adjacent to the living room. You couldn't deny that you were bored, but leaving simply was not an option with how obsessed Shoko was with this guy. The kitchen was void of people, but someone had mercifully left out a fruit tray that appeared untouched in comparison to the picked-over coolers of beer. Working as a bartender had diminished your cravings for the stuff, so you avoided it wholly.
Just as you turned to re-enter the living room, you slammed right into something solid, a person, and let out a yelp. Your plate fell to the ground, the carefully chosen grapes bouncing in a thousand different directions. To your dismay, a good portion of them rolled underneath the fridge, out of reach and surely to rot later.
"Shit- I'm so sorry!" you cried, ducking down to immediately retrieve your fallen mess.
The victim of your attack kneeled beside you to help, which was a kind gesture, but it only helped to embarrass you further. You glanced up to apologize again, silently regretting every choice you'd made in your life thus far.
"You didn't have to-"
But the words stopped dead in your throat. Your victim was beautiful, breathtakingly so. Crystalline blue eyes that met yours, snow white hair brushing just above matching eyebrows. Ivory skin and pink lips that looked so soft and perfect it made your mouth go dry.
And then he smiled. "It's okay- I move quietly." He dropped a grape onto the half-crushed plate in your hand while you forced yourself to rise back to your full height. He followed suit, towering over you so much that you had to tilt your head to view his face.
But it wasn’t just his striking features that threw you so much- it was the familiarity, the nostalgia that flowed through you when you properly looked at him. In the moments that followed, you were able only to stare while you tried to recall just where you'd seen him before.
"Oh," he said, plucking the plate from your grasp. He turned and reached behind him to toss it into the trash with ease. His periwinkle button-up stretched across the expanse of his shoulders as he did so. You made yourself look away.
"Um," you cleared your throat. "Thanks."
He chuckled at that and extended his hand for you to shake. You couldn’t help but to notice the delicate nature of his long, pale fingers, reminding you much of a pianist’s. Your hands connected in the briefest handshake you’d ever participated in. His touch was cold, so much so that you couldn’t help but to jerk your hand away when the skin made contact.
Your eyes flicked up to his, illuminated blue in the dim light of the kitchen. You blinked as he held your gaze steadily, unable to shake that feeling that you’d seen him before. You were aware that you were staring at this point, but you were determined to recall this man's identity.
"Satoru," he said greeting. Not familiar, you thought.
You relayed your own name before asking, "Do I know you?"
Satoru tilted his head to the side, smirking as though he was in on some joke that you wouldn’t get. “I never forget a face, and I certainly wouldn’t forget yours.”
Even though the comment made you blush, you hummed. “Smooth. But seriously, weren't you in Dr. Kusakabe's organic chem class, like, last spring?"
"I can assure you that I have never seen you before," Satoru insisted. "Are you sure you just haven't been drinking too much?"
You scoffed at the accusation, a small smile tugging at your lips from his teasing. "No, I haven't been drinking, thank you very much. Somebody's got to keep my friend alive."
You glanced back at the fruit tray and immediately thought of those stupid grapes. "Do you see a broom anywhere?"
"I'm afraid those poor grapes are forever lost," Satoru said mournfully.
You let out a melodramatic sigh, smiling a little when you met his gaze once more.
His lashes fluttered, and then you saw him stiffen as though something suddenly pained him. Small, clammy hands landed on your bare shoulders, and you started, though you knew exactly who the offender was.
“Why are you hiding from me?” Shoko whined, her words slurring.
You pried her hands from your shoulders and peered down at her. She was swaying a little and the smell of liquor on her breath was all but apparent. You suddenly remembered your forgotten promise that you’d stick with her throughout the night, feeling a little guilty at the pouty expression on her face.
“Sorry, Shoko,” you said. “I was just looking for a snack.”
Shoko noticed Satoru then, who had taken a full step away while his fingers fluttered wildly by his side. So peculiar, you thought.
"Oh-" she hiccupped. "Hiii. I didn't see that she was talking to you."
Satoru didn’t reach out to shake her hand, you noticed, opting only to nod his head in greeting as he smiled in a way that didn't quite reach his eyes.
“No trouble,” he said fluidly. He then fixated his gaze back to yours, “If you’ll excuse me.”
He stepped out of the kitchen, and at least Shoko waited until he'd walked away to ask, "who was that?"
You shook your head as you watched him disappear into the throng of people scattered about the living room, stopping only when his white locks were no longer visible.
"Satoru."
The next week was spent with thoughts of Satoru scratching at the back of your head. During study breaks, you’d rack your brain trying to figure out where the fuck you knew him from. You were sure that you’d met him in the past; maybe he had been an elementary classmate? Maybe he worked at one of the local grocery stores or the café down the street? The possibilities were endless, but still, the mental search persisted. He even appeared in your dream the very night of the party, standing tall and fair with his back toward you.
Friday night was arguably the busiest at the bar. It was a flurry of drink orders, checking IDs, and straining to hear customers over the cacophony of voices. But you preferred the busy evening shifts– the bustle made the time fly. And it occupied your mind in a way that kept you from thinking about everything else, at least temporarily.
But after the last call for alcohol, a lull finally fell into place, and you began with your housekeeping tasks. Small things such as wiping down the bar and prepping garnishes and the like. Mentally, you’d already clocked out and were at home watching the new episode of your favorite anime. You were distracted, not all the way present, and you had your back to the bar. That’s why you were startled when you turned around to see that Satoru had materialized on the other side.
You flinched and your eyes went wide as your hand flew to your chest as if to steady yourself. “Oh sh– hey, it’s you! You scared me.”
Satoru raised his hands and grinned wickedly. “Boo.”
Never mind that he hadn’t been anywhere near the bar in the five seconds it’d taken you to do a 360. But your heart rate returned to normal, and you drank in his appearance. Still gorgeous, even in the bar’s poor lighting. He wore a collarless black sweater with sleeves that were too long even for him, and a pair of gray slacks. The neutral tones made his blue eyes appear even brighter, seeming almost to glow.
“Aren’t you going to order something?” you asked teasingly. “It’s past last call, but I’m sure I can make an exception.”
Satoru purred, maintaining that wicked smile from before. “You’re too kind to me.”
“Please, I insist.” You cupped your hands around your mouth and leaned over the bar so that your fingers just barely were brushing the shell of his ear.
“It’s on the house,” you faux-whispered, trying to ignore the way his hair tickled your skin for the briefest of moments before you pulled away.
He swallowed, the first sign of hesitation you’d seen since meeting him. Not that you knew him well, but he otherwise moved so confidently and with such intention that the gesture seemed out of place on him.
“I’m afraid I don’t drink.”
“I can make you something virgin,” you urged, wiggling your eyebrows. You were being unnecessarily insistent, pushing a little hard, but you felt this inexplicable urge to impress him. To serve him...? It was your job, after all, to make drinks that people would enjoy.
And then he replied, his voice firm but not unkind, “I have to decline, but I deeply appreciate your offer.”
You sighed and made a point of overdramatizing your disappointment. “Some other time, then. I’ll get you something good to drink, just you wait.”
An unnamable expression flashed over his features, quickly replaced by another disarming smile. You weren’t sure if it was the dim lighting of the bar, but his pallor seemed more translucent than before, the color blending in with his pale hair. His eyes were nearly glowing, nearly burning and you found yourself trying to differentiate all the shades of blue within his irises before he cleared his throat, and you realized you had been staring.
“Sorry,” you said quickly, cursing the blush that crept high on your cheeks. “I just.. I swear that I’ve seen you before somewhere. It’s kind of driving me crazy.”
Satoru tilted his head in question, a mannerism of his that you’d picked up on. “Is that right?”
Okay, you were definitely into this guy, no doubt about it. How could you not be? He was insanely, unfairly attractive, and though you’d just met (SUPPOSEDLY), you couldn’t help but to feel that you were connected to him in some way. That was a scary thought, one you shoved down before it could fester along with your other delusions.
The bar where you worked was close to campus and being part of a chain, its main demographic for business was students. It was a simple coincidence for Satoru to be there. Maybe that’s where you knew him from- it wasn’t a total impossibility; you'd served thousands of people since starting there.
“When are you off?”
You glanced down at the small watch face adorning your wrist, pretending to squint as anxiety slithered into your gut. Guys had asked you that same question in the past after mistaking good bartending for flirting. Satoru was charming, but he was still a stranger, and it was already well past 2am. But something about him pulled trust out of you like it was nothing. Like he was luring you in, a moth drawn to a flame.
“30 minutes,” you replied truthfully. “Maybe longer, depending on the crowd.”
"I want to take you to a cafe down the street," he said. "It's open all night, and I'm sure you must be starving after such a long shift."
Your stomach tattled on you before you got the chance to respond, growling loudly at the prospect of eating- you'd neglected to do so before coming in almost eight hours ago.
“I couldn't impose-”
He smiled at you as your words trailed off, and that voice in your head telling you to be careful was far too distant as you felt your resolve falter. “I insist.”
So at exactly three o'clock, standing with his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the wall was Satoru. He lifted his head when he heard the door open, smiling once he realized that it was you. You'd be a fool to deny how pretty he was when he looked at you like that.
“Shall we?” you said once you were standing at his side.
“Of course. It’s only a block or two.”
You turned to your right, moving to take the first step of many, when a large hand wrapped itself around your wrist. It couldn't have been colder than 60 degrees Fahrenheit, but even through your sleeve, you could feel the frigid cold of his fingers. You gasped at the sudden touch, flicking your eyes up to his, which were likely wide with alarm.
“Ah, ah,” Satoru said, releasing you from his grasp. “This way.”
You tried not to let show how freaked out that made you, blaming it on how quickly he’d moved to stop you. But he carried on nonchalantly as though it was something he did with everyone- perhaps, he did, if you thought about it. You focused only on following him dutifully and nothing else as he led the way.
"Do you always work nights?" he asked, breaking through the buzz of your overthinking.
You nodded, grateful for him breaking the silence. "My roommate says I'm crazy, but I prefer it. I take classes in the evenings, too, so I'm usually sleeping during the day."
Satoru held the door for you, gesturing widely as you passed over the threshold. You plucked a menu from the pocket by the door, vaguely recognizing the restaurant's logo; it was a simplified portrait of a dryad.
“Oh!” you exclaimed. “I feel like I’ve been here before. Maybe in high school…”
Satoru chuckled. “It’s only been open for about a year. Maybe you should get those false memories checked out.”
"Ha-ha."
You could feel his eyes on the back of your head like two pinpricks of ultraviolet light as you escorted yourself to an open table. He slid gracefully into the booth across from you, folding his legs in a way that couldn't be comfortable under the too-short table. You laid the menu flat as you peered over it.
"What's good here?" you asked.
Swiftly, he replied, "Everything. Plus, you can never go wrong with chicken tenders."
"This is true."
You decided on a ham and Emmental baguette and a glass of cherry juice -they actually had it!-, opting to keep it simple. You noticed that Satoru hadn't grabbed a menu himself, but thought better than to comment on it. Besides, who were you to pry into the specifics of someone else's eating habits?
You slipped the straw dipped in your drink between two fingers, toying with it nervously. "So, what year are you?"
"Ah, I just graduated," Satoru replied, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "And you're a senior, right?"
Your eyebrows knit together as you tilted your head to the side just slightly. "How'd you know?"
Satoru didn't miss a beat. "You had that look about you at the party. And since you're old enough to bartend, I filled in the blanks."
When he put it that way, the logic seemed sound enough for you to safely dismiss it without a second thought.
"Quite the sleuth, are you?" you teased.
Satoru chuckled breathily. Before either of you could ask any more questions, your food magically appeared before you. Neither of you had indicated that this was a date, but you still wanted to at least try and appear well-mannered, so you ignored the urge to fall upon the sandwich.
"Are you sure you don't want some?" you asked, holding the half out to him.
Satoru raised a hand. "No, thank you, I ate not too long ago. Please, go on."
"I just feel bad."
But you figured it would be more rude to continue pestering him, so you decided just to suck it up and eat. You were starving anyway. You sunk your teeth into the sandwich, but you misjudged the force necessary to bite through the thick bread. Sharp pain lanced through your tongue and a familiar tanginess flooded your mouth.
"Fuck," you muttered. "Bit my tongue."
As politely as you could, you brought a napkin to your mouth and spit into it before folding it neatly to hide the blood. “Sorry.”
Satoru's eyes had grown wide as he stared down at the napkin. A muscle twitched in his jaw, and you suddenly grew more embarrassed. Had you really grossed him out that much? It was just a little blood and it wasn't exactly a Michelin star restaurant.
But as though you imagined it, that discomfort morphed into a smile so radiant you forgot he'd been unsettled in the first place. The bleeding stopped, thankfully, and you slowly but steadily made your way through the sandwich. While you ate, you and Satoru passed questions and answers back and forth like a badminton game.
He'd declined your offer to make him a drink and was refusing to eat anything now, but you thought little of it until you watched as he took the smallest sip from his glass of water. He made a face as though it tasted utterly foul. It was city water, after all, but he looked physically unwell after setting the glass back on the table.
“Are you okay?” you asked. “You look a little pale.”
He shook his head, making the stands of his white hair bounce comically. “Just tired. I didn’t expect to be out so late.”
You couldn’t deny the little stab of disappointment that shot through you, though your watch did read a quarter-to-four. Sure, you were off tomorrow, but that didn't mean that Satoru wasn't.
“Oh,” you said. “Well, I’m ready anytime, then.”
The second you place your dishes at the end of the table, Satoru sprung out of his spot in the booth and started for the door. His height must've been the reason he moved so fast, and you had to scramble out of the booth and run to catch up with him. You grabbed your coat from the rack and shrugged it on before following him through the door.
You turned to look at Satoru to somehow gauge the state of his wellbeing, only to catch him staring at you with stormy eyes and parted lips. Weren't you going to ask him something? But then he blinked away the intensity you'd seen, a placid expression replacing it instantly.
“One second," Satoru quickly added. “Wait here.”
He bolted back inside like a bullet from a gun, furiously jangling the bunch of bells that hung above the inside of the door. So, you waited, poking your head through the window to see just what he was doing. He was standing over the table where you'd both been seated just a minute before, but you couldn't see much more than that. He must've forgotten something, or maybe he just wanted to give his compliments to the chef- or something.
"Forgot my wallet," he said in explanation once he'd joined you at your spot by the curb. You nodded as he confirmed your first theory.
Satoru had both of his hands shoved into his pockets precariously as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. It seemed childish at first, but that quickly turned to endearment when you realized that he was nervous. "Would you want to do this again sometime?"
You smiled at him, touched by how sweetly he'd worded the question. You reached out to touch him in some way so he knew your next words were sincere, but he stood in a way that would've made it painfully awkward to do so, so you let your arm fall limp at your side.
"If you ever want to grab a bite, I'll be awake." you answered before the two of you parted ways for good.
All you knew was that you wanted to see him again, wanted to see this strange man you'd met by chance and break past his walls and excessive smiles. And you wanted him to tell you where you'd seen him before- maybe you were delusional, but you had an inkling that he knew exactly what you'd been talking about.
What you didn't know was that Satoru had followed you for the entirety of your walk home, slipping in and out of the shadows as he debated whether to reach for you. Sitting across from you in the booth had been torturous, especially once you'd bitten your tongue. The napkin that now sat in his pocket seemed to burn a hole straight through to the bone. Any of your blood would have long since dried, but it was yours, and for now, it would have to do.
His hand hovered over the doorknob- hadn't anyone taught you to always lock your door? He heard you shuffling around inside, the clinking of drinking glasses and silverware being put away. The mundanity of you tidying your kitchen was a slap in his face. You were still living, still warm-bodied and radiant. Not cursed, as he was, with a full life ahead of you that would end peacefully. There would come a day when you would close your eyes and they would not again open. It would be completely and utterly selfish of him to do something as stupid as tampering with something as precious as your life.
But the urge persisted, as it had for months, inspiring the most selfish ideals he’d ever before been plagued with. And that selfishness was what made him believe that he truly was a monster deserving of his fate. That selfishness made him into who he was.
If he'd never seen you that night just a few short months before, he would've long since left this forsaken city. He wouldn't be trapped here by the longing he felt for you. He wouldn't be such a damned mess, going to parties and putting himself directly into situations he should be avoiding at all costs. All the lies and the hiding started to add up after a while; soon he’d be so deeply intwined in a wreck of a story that would be too much to keep up with. He’d slip up eventually; he always did.
The party had been the absolute last straw. Suguru had advised him not to go, but Satoru was a social creature, and he still enjoyed bantering and foolishness as he had during his waking life. And as was commonplace as of late, anywhere you went, so would Satoru, because that's just the type he was.
He had not planned on getting as close as he did though. Quite literally, you’d been on top of him even if it was for only a second. But it had been enough to break through the delicate semblance of control he’d had hanging by a thread. The sheer pleasure he got from your scent alone was something he’d learned he needed; it was more than a want. Even now, the bits of you he could pick up on through the door had some kind of trancelike effect on him.
But as Satoru turned his back to your apartment, fists clenched by his sides from the sheer amount of effort it took, he admitted to himself that Suguru had been right. He shouldn't have gone, because it sealed the fact that his every moment would be consumed by thoughts of you.
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Confession: I ship Shoko and Nanami SO HARD. They're both water signs, too. I love symbolism and foreshadowing more than anything else in this world.
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elyvorg · 2 months
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Kieran Part Bonus: I AM SO PROUD OF MY BOY
And now for my really actually final analysis post about Kieran, covering both the epilogue and also his scenes in the League Club room once you’ve finished that. Somehow both of these relatively short pieces of content still managed to be packed with delightful nuance showcasing both how Kieran’s still struggling with his issues and yet also how much he’s grown since his main arc. They are absolutely lovely and fill me with so many warm happy feelings about my boy.
Honestly, it’s remarkable, not just from a Pokémon-writing perspective but as a piece of fiction in general, to have this kind of satisfying follow-up for a character arc. Usually once a character’s arc reaches a resolution, their story just ends there, and we don’t get to see more of how they’re processing what they’ve been through and learning to grow further in the aftermath. So it’s a really wonderful breath of fresh air to get to see something like that for once here with Kieran! The Pokémon writers absolutely did not have to make the epilogue and postgame content focused on showcasing this, and yet they did. I am, once again, pleasantly boggled by how much they cared about doing Kieran’s story justice. Just, wowzers, man. There really is no more appropriate word for my amazement than that.
(This is an epilogue, if you will, to my previous two analysis posts discussing Kieran’s character arc in The Teal Mask and The Indigo Disk! Reading those before this is probably recommended.)
Before even getting into things that are strictly from the epilogue itself, can I just say: I really love that Kieran took a mental health break from Blueberry Academy to give him some time to process things? (Okay, the game only calls it a “break”, but let’s be real, it is for his mental health, and this is Good.) It just makes me very happy that the writing acknowledged that he’d probably need something like that after what he’s been through instead of going straight back to business as normal at school – and in an in-story sense, it’s lovely that Kieran realised he needed this and didn’t try and force himself to just keep going as if nothing had happened. He’s starting to learn to take care of himself and not push himself way too hard!
Making new friends
The first lovely sign of Kieran’s growth that we see in the epilogue is that, not only does he want to catch up with you, he also wants to meet your friends from Paldea! He must have spent some time during his break thinking about the fact that you mentioned you had friends from there.
And the thing is, with Kieran’s insecurities, it would have been so easy for him to slip into a mindset of “your friends are probably way cooler than me, why would you need me”. But instead of letting himself get caught up in that jealousy spiral again, he fought against it and did the healthy thing of asking to meet them himself. Hopefully he can become friends with them too and then he’ll have nothing to feel jealous about! He outright says when he meets them, “Any friend of [yours] is a friend of mine!” Look at him go. (Arven should take notes on how not to act insecure about one’s best friend having other friends, because damn, Kieran’s managing to be more well-adjusted than him now.)
All this is also just a sign that Kieran’s hoping to try and make more friends in general. He’s such an introvert that he must have figured that’d be easier for him to do with people for whom he has a mutual friend to get to know them through. Plus, if they’re your friends, then he already has a guarantee that they’ll be good and nice people. Way more manageable for him than trying to approach complete randos.
And really, it’s such a huge remarkable thing for Kieran that he is trying to make friends now. Friends, plural! This is the kid who used to be so lonely and shunned by others that his big dream was to one day be like the ogre who, according to him, doesn’t care that it’s all alone. And maybe then, if he managed that, he’d be able to befriend the ogre – just that one other person who is also alone and outcast. It never even crossed his mind to try and imagine that one day he could be confident and worthy enough to just… have some human friends. That wasn’t even an option in his head – it was “learn to not care that he’s alone” or nothing.
And yet look at Kieran now, actively reaching out to try and make new friends! I am so proud of him.
Learning to ask for help
Soon after you meet up with Kieran, it becomes apparent that something is Very Wrong with his sister. According to Kieran’s account, it was shortly after he sent you the letter that Carmine became possessed, so it’s not that the letter was secretly a call for help in which he couldn’t bring himself to admit the actual problem.
And even now that you’re here… Kieran wasn’t going to tell you about this problem at all until Carmine happened to wander up and start mochi-dancing in front of you. He tries to play the whole thing off like it’s totally normal and she’s definitely just… excited to see you???, even though he has to know that doesn’t make any sense at all. On some level this is just because it’s really scary to admit to himself that something is very wrong and he doesn’t have a clue how to fix it. But it’s also because… he still doesn’t feel like he has the right to ask you and your friends for help.
This is one of the ways in which Kieran’s issues and low sense of self-worth from before are still lingering and have not just been magically, instantly fixed. While he may be making a conscious effort to fight through his insecurities to try and make more friends, he hasn’t started consciously tackling everything that was holding him back just yet. It seems like he imagines that asking your friends for help, these people he’s only just met, would just make him a burden on them and maybe spoil any chance he had of actually becoming their friend himself. (Although, even if you’d come to visit him alone, I suspect he’d still struggle to ask even just you for help, simply due to his old ingrained mindset that he’s not worthy enough to deserve it.)
Happily for Kieran, your friends are all good people who instantly unthinkingly offer to help without him even needing to ask them! Kieran’s sheer surprise and gratitude when this happens is so telling about his insecurities for why he didn’t feel he could ask, but it’s also lovely to see him starting to realise that his instinctive way of thinking about this is mistaken. Welcome to having friends, Kieran, this is how it works actually! Most people are good and will be happy to help out a friend in need! It’s okay to need help sometimes!
There’s another very innocuous line that I find interestingly telling about Kieran’s mindset regarding this. When you’re all at the community centre wanting to use the TV, Kieran laments that it’s stuck playing the tourism ad because the caretaker hid the remote, so Arven immediately suggests you all look for it. And Kieran reacts, in surprise, “Why didn’t I think of that?” It reads as largely rhetorical, but… it’s a good question.
Why didn’t Kieran think of just trying to find the remote? Because he’s spent so long stuck in a mindset where, if things are bad for him, it’s just what he deserves for being weak and there’s nothing he can do about it. His response to his problems during the main storyline was to completely separately fixate on making himself Stronger so that, in theory, problems would just stop happening to him entirely. It never occurred to him to try and just face and deal with his problems directly – at least not until the climactic battle with Terapagos, which was the first time he ever found the courage to take such an approach – so the notion to do so still isn’t quite habitual in his mind just yet.
Hopefully Kieran asking why he didn’t think of that wasn’t quite so rhetorical, and he was reflecting on it himself a little when he said it. He ought to realise that actually, taking action to directly solve his problems is a good thing and something he should strive to do more! He has already begun to do so in some ways by reaching out in an attempt to make more friends, at least.
Solving the problem
Kieran sure does get a lot more practice at Directly Solving Problems thanks to the events that go on to occur that night, doesn’t he. I love that the epilogue’s plot, while ostensibly just there to give players an opportunity to catch Pecharunt, is also a narrative that exists to let Kieran get to be a hero alongside you.
It’s somewhat low key, but Kieran definitely gets pretty freaked out about everything that’s happening. Which is really perfectly reasonable – though the effects of the possession are incredibly silly, it’s still got to be genuinely frightening to see people he knows getting controlled against their will by some unknown force, especially when this includes his own family. (One detail I love is that the game uses that lack of a highlight in his eyes during certain lines to communicate the fear he's feeling and trying not-so-successfully to hide; it’s a small thing, but it works so well.)
Once you’ve fought off his possessed grandparents, Kieran starts to panic, convinced it’s only a matter of time before it gets him (even though the evidence of how exactly the possession occurs is right there if he’d just stop to think about it for a moment). On some level, he must still have this sense that, if it can get all these people he looks up to, surely it’ll get him too who’s so much weaker than them. His inferiority complex is still there and affecting him, especially in this stressful situation.
Good thing Kieran has you by his side, the strongest coolest friend ever whom he knows he can rely on! If you hadn’t been there to reassure him and snap him out of it, he really might have lost himself to his panic. Or he might have just not even tried to battle the possessed people and do something about all of this in the first place – see the earlier point about how him facing problems directly is still not instinctive to him. He’s able to do so here, but a lot of that is probably thanks to being able to follow your lead. Still, this is bound to help him get better at doing so on his own in future!
Kieran’s also still a bit too liable to feel like things are his fault even when they really aren’t. He blames himself for not warning Arven and Penny about the mochi in time, even though he was literally about to do so when Pecharunt showed up and sniped mochi directly into their mouths. That can’t be called Kieran’s fault at all! He tried! (And, hey, it’s not like you made any attempt to warn them either.) But he still feels responsible for it anyway.
And he’s also still rather defeatist when it comes to facing Strong Opponents in battle. Kieran couldn’t defeat Nemona earlier in the day, so when it comes down to facing off against her in order to get to Pecharunt, he just feels like he can’t do it, end of. Really, that’s not necessarily the case – since this is an emergency and not a friendly battle for sport, there’s no reason you have to beat Nemona in a fair 6-on-6. Anything to get past her will do; the two of you could have taken her on in a 12-on-6 double battle, perhaps! Kieran did not need to momentarily feel useless in this situation, but he did, because not being able to win against someone still equates in his mind to being No Good At All. Kieran, nooo.
Happily, the narrative provides Kieran with something else to do with himself while you fight Nemona so that he is very decidedly not useless in the slightest – fighting off the entire town’s worth of people behind you??? That is equally as necessary as taking down Nemona, something without which you’d never have managed to get to Pecharunt, and it must take some incredible battling skill to be able to hold off that many opponents at once. Like, dang, Kieran. I really hope he’s able to reflect on this in the aftermath and realise how incredibly strong and cool that was of him, because it was.
(He was holding his own one-against-many, just like he always admired Ogerpon for doing!)
Kieran’s fear and pessimism also show through just a tiny bit as you’re fighting Pecharunt at the end, when he reacts to the fact that you were able to damage it. Apparently he was afraid that this thing would be completely invulnerable and it just wouldn’t be possible for even someone as amazing as you to beat it and stop the curse. Yikes, that must have been a scary thought. But still, it all worked out in the end! Kieran’s learning that even when things are scary and feel overwhelming, by facing up to them and doing his best, it’ll usually turn out okay! Especially because he’s not alone and has friends by his side to support him now.
And, hey, one way or another, it seems like the events of the epilogue did help give Kieran that last little push he needed to decide to go back to Blueberry Academy! I imagine he was already thinking about doing so – he is actually a very stubborn and determined person at his core, so I don’t think he could ever have been considering just giving up on it – but all of this probably helped give him the confidence to make that leap. The thought of apologising to everyone for how he acted must still be incredibly daunting – but, he’s begun to realise that he can face scary things!
His old Kitakami team
During the epilogue’s battles, I was absolutely delighted to see Kieran send out Poliwrath, one of the Pokémon he used in Teal Mask but not in Indigo Disk – because this is proof that he’s been reconnecting with the Pokémon friends he left behind back then! As it turns out, the rest of his team for these multi battles is the same as his Champion team, with only the Polis switched, but even so, Poliwrath’s presence is enough to be a promising sign for all of his old Pokémon friends.
And this gets further confirmed by his dialogue with Arven in the clubroom! Arven asks Kieran which of his Pokémon he’s closest to, and he mentions his Hydrapple (which has been with him since it was an Applin), his Poliwrath and Politoed, his Yanmega, and his Furret! This accounts for all of the Pokémon Kieran had in his Teal Mask battles up to the third one, after which he started to fixate hard on getting stronger to prove himself to you, so these are likely all of the Pokémon that were friends of his from the start. And he still considers them friends now, which means he reconnected with them all and apologised as necessary for any leaving them behind/thinking they were weak/etc that he might have done! Yes good, Justice For Furret was had, I could not be happier.
(Okay, we never saw the second Poli back then, but the way he talks about both Polis together suggests they’re a pair, so I imagine they were both his friends back then, too. He also never used Applin against you before evolving it into Dipplin – which is fair, Applin is very not good in battles – so the lack of us seeing another Poliwag/whirl is probably because he felt he needed to use a diverse team that didn’t have two of the same species. He doesn’t have to battle with all of his Pokémon for them to still be his friends, after all! He still doesn’t battle with most of them now in the clubroom battles either, which use his same Champion team, but that doesn’t stop them from being his precious pals!)
(On the other hand, since there is no sign nor mention of them in the postgame, I suspect that, like Cramorant before them, his Gliscor, Shiftry and Probopass from the final Kitakami battle got released. Kieran would have only had them for like a day or two during the events of Teal Mask, since he only caught them after he fixated on getting stronger, so I doubt he’d grown very attached to them during that time. Still, that’s okay, because hey, he did make them stronger, which is probably all they ever expected from him when they joined his team.)
Nemona is Good
One extremely delightful aspect of the epilogue and beyond is Kieran’s interactions with Nemona. It turns out that her outlook on battling is exactly the kind of thing Kieran needed to help regain a healthier view on it himself!
His feelings about his own battling skills are still very all-or-nothing at the beginning of the epilogue. When Nemona excitedly declares that she’s heard he’s really good at battling, Kieran’s pretty dismissive of that idea. He couldn’t beat you, therefore that means he’s Not Good At It, right? (Kieran, no.) He also says that Nemona “destroyed” him once they’ve battled – but based on the fact that she has nothing but praise for how good he is, I very strongly suspect that he actually gave her a really tough fight, and he only framed it that negatively because losing at all still makes his inferiority complex blow things way out of proportion.
Happily, delightfully, Nemona tells Kieran exactly what he has always needed to hear this whole time, which is that it shouldn’t matter whether you win or lose, because battles are fun either way! And with a moment to reflect on that, he agrees… yeah, they are, he had a lot of fun!
We’d heard from Drayton that Kieran was always a kid who’d deeply enjoyed battling, from the very beginning. But it seems that somewhere along the way he’d stopped loving it so much, at least when he’s the one battling - probably because he’d often lose, which would trigger his inferiority complex and make him feel bad. We only saw a small glimpse of his passion for battling ourselves at the beginning of Teal Mask, mostly when he watched you battle his sister, and a little bit in his own early battles with you, but he still felt bad over losing, poor kid.
But with Nemona’s help, Kieran’s been able to remember just how much he always loved battling and can just enjoy himself with it again! In your clubroom battles with him, he has a line just before he Terastallises where he says “these feelings never change” – and though he doesn’t specify what feelings he’s talking about, the one thing about Kieran that has never changed this entire time, even if he sort of lost sight of it for a while along the way, is the thrill he gets from battling! He also says in another line that he’s “having a blast” – which is phrasing that Nemona uses that Kieran never has before, so apparently he picked that up from her? Aww. I am so glad he could meet her; she is exactly the breath of battle-loving fresh air he always needed.
Kieran’s clubroom conversation with Nemona is also very good and helps him let go of his all-or-nothing mindset a little more. Nemona praises him for how quickly he climbed the ranks of the BB League, which he insists is meaningless because he pushed himself unhealthily hard and then still couldn’t beat you in the end. But Nemona helps him reframe it and think of it as: he was incredibly dedicated, and it must mean he really loves Pokémon and battling, which is true! This has to help Kieran view his training arc in a more positive light instead of focusing on the negative aspects like his toxic obsession and lack of self-care. Hopefully if/when he starts training hard again, he’ll be able to feel better about it and not associate it with all the bad things, thanks to Nemona! (But also, Kieran, please remember to not neglect self-care again, that was bad. I imagine he has indeed got the message about that, since the way he talks about that aspect in this conversation seems tinged with regret.)
Carmine is Trying
Another thing we see in the epilogue – admittedly only a small glimpse near the end, but it’s something – is that Kieran’s relationship with his sister seems to have gotten a little bit healthier? They each make equal-opportunity Sibling Banter jabs at each other, and Kieran doesn’t slump and shrink and look so defeated when she bites back against one of his. There’s probably still some ways to go here on their dynamic becoming completely truly healthy, but it’s definitely progress from before, which is good to see.
I think Carmine really must have reflected on her role in Kieran’s breakdown and is trying in her own fumbling awkward way to do better by him now. A delightful sign of this is one of her scenes in the clubroom, in which she resolves to be less protective of Kieran, even if it’ll make her lonelier without him around as much. That’s exactly what she needs to do! After all, this whole thing started because Carmine couldn’t bear to let her brother endure even the tiniest amount of badfeels that would have come from learning he happened to miss out on meeting the ogre. Carmine has realised on some level that she needs to have more faith in Kieran and his ability to endure and get through stuff on his own, rather than trying too hard to protect him from everything ever, which just results in coddling him and stifling his possibility for growth. She still does want to look out for him from a distance and be able to help if he really does need it, but she’s trying not to overdo it any more. Yes good, I am proud of her too.
Reconciling with his schoolmates
I said already in the Indigo Disk post that it’s incredibly brave of Kieran to resolve to apologise to everyone he hurt and make amends, and this is still true. That has to have been so scary, but he went and did it anyway! It seems he even apologised to the people who cared about him, such as his sister and Amarys, for worrying them with his behaviour – which also means he has managed to comprehend the fact that people cared about him, even back then when he was at his most unlikeable.
And by the sounds of what he says in his clubroom scenes, most people took his apologies well and are talking to him like normal now, which has to have been such a relief. It means a lot that Kieran wasn’t expecting anything of the sort and apologised anyway despite expecting backlash, simply because it was the right thing to do – but hey, most people are nice and can probably tell he was decidedly Not Himself during that time and are willing to put the past behind them! Social interaction isn’t quite as scary as he’d used to think, it turns out!
Even then, some things are still a bit weird, and with how far-reaching his impact as Champion was, Kieran’s bound to keep having to deal with this for a while. There must keep being more people he was a jerk to that he still hasn’t apologised to yet, people being intimidated by him because they don’t realise he’s changed, constant reminders of some of the hurtful things he said and did back then. Making amends is going to be a pretty long-term thing, but Kieran is putting in the effort to do so all the same, because it’s the right thing to do, and he is so brave.
Someone who is making this harder than it needs to be is Drayton, because of freaking course he is. He still insists on rubbing in the “ex-Champ” thing, even though Kieran has made it clear he does not appreciate being called that (of course, he no longer minds that he’s not Champion any more, but the fact that Drayton insists on constantly reminding him of his past self has to sting). On the one hand, Drayton is still concerned about Kieran in his own way, because he does effectively ask if Kieran’s eating better meals now, but on the other hand their entire clubroom interaction features him deliberately dodging Kieran’s genuine attempts to just engage with him in an effort to make amends, and, geez. This is exactly what he wanted from Kieran all along, and yet he is somehow still not satisfied. Seriously, Drayton.
At least Drayton is the only one of the Elite Four to be like this, and the others seem to be on good terms with Kieran now! Look at Lacey insisting that the past is in the past when Kieran acts confused that she’d want to help him after he was such a jerk to her. (Someone needs to take notes there, Drayton.) And it seems like Kieran’s got another good friend in Crispin, who’s in the same class as him! Our boy is making so many new friends and it is wonderful.
Of course, his insecurities are still around, and he’s still a little too liable to assume he’s doing something Wrong in social situations, as we see in a couple of his clubroom interactions. That one with Arven about his Pokémon is an example, as Arven phrased things as if he expected Kieran to have just one single closest Pokémon buddy, and Kieran seemed to feel bad that he actually had multiple candidates and couldn’t pick – but happily, Arven reassured him that it’s cool to not be able to choose, too! And in Kieran’s interaction with Crispin, he reflexively apologises for not having watched the latest episode of a show, but Crispin calls him out on the apology, and Kieran is able to question himself as to why he apologised and conclude that he didn’t need to, because it’s not like Crispin’s going to mind.
He is learning! He does not need to feel like he has to perfectly match his conversation partner’s expectations in order to be their friend! Kieran’s approach to his own issues has become so healthy and filled with self-reflection and growth, and I am so proud of him.
Friendship with you
Kieran is also able to be a whole lot healthier about his friendship with you, now that you’re properly friends again after everything! Possibly my favourite completely innocuous line in the epilogue is when he casually mentions that you and he became friends during the school trip to Kitakami. This is actually huge, because Kieran had spent so long utterly convinced that you couldn’t possibly have meant it when you called him a friend back then, not after the lie and all of his issues about being too weak to deserve it. But now, he’s been able to reflect on that and realise… of course you meant it. Of course you always wanted to be his friend, right from the very beginning! It wasn’t on purpose of you that he got left out of meeting Ogerpon at all, because you’re a good person and you wouldn’t do something like that, and he never actually deserved that after all.
(Perhaps sometime during his break, he had a proper talk with his sister about what happened and why she lied, and Carmine finally got to fully express that you and she never meant to hurt him and shun him with that.)
Kieran is still not over his idolisation of you, mind you. He reacts to you being the one to find the TV remote of all completely mundane things with “Wowzers! ‘Course you found it first!” – which, really isn’t a wowzers or an of course? Your magical protagonist powers do not and should not extend to this, and yet they still do in Kieran’s head. But even though he still views you this way, Kieran is so much healthier about it now. He’s no longer bitter and jealous and beating himself up for not being as perfect as he thinks you are, since nobody is (not even you, not really) – instead, he’s just so incredibly thrilled that he actually gets to be friends with someone so cool!
I really love that the devs went and gave Kieran a new losing animation for his clubroom battles, too. His previous ones always had him being varying levels of upset about losing, but not any more! He just stares in wide-eyed awe at your amazingness, and then breaks into a big smile and thanks you for the battle, because he still had great fun even though he lost! And he’s able to freely admit that he looks up to you because you’re so strong, or, in an optional line in the epilogue, he admits that he’s jealous that your friends are all really good people. He still has those feelings, but he’s able to healthily express them now without letting them twist him into something harmful.
It seems like he’s still a little insecure about if he deserves to be friends with you, though, based on a few small things. When he asks you for a trade in the clubroom, he appears hesitant to ask, as if he’s not sure he has the right to, and if you say no – even though there’s every chance this is just because you want some time to decide on an appropriately special Pokémon to give him – he slumps, probably having had his sensitivity to rejection triggered. And even once you’ve traded, he can later ask if you’re absolutely sure he can really keep the Pokémon you traded him, because he can’t quite believe he could get to have such a cool gift from you of all people. Aww, Kieran. Hopefully his hypothetical future interactions with you will help squash this insecurity of his further, because he deserves to feel comfortable in his friendship with his best friend!!!
Ogerpon
Another seemingly-innocuous but extremely good line in the clubroom is that Kieran can ask you if Ogerpon’s doing well and say that he thinks she’ll be pretty happy with you. He says this in a completely casual way, with no hint of bitterness – which tells us that he’s no longer jealous that you caught Ogerpon! It makes sense that he wouldn’t be, because he doesn’t need her acknowledgement any more like he used to think he did in order to feel worth something. He’s already got acknowledgement and self-worth and happiness now for so many other reasons, after all! So he can just be selflessly happy for Ogerpon that she’s found a trainer she can feel safe and happy with too, without being irrationally preoccupied over what she thinks of him.
It is interesting to see in this dialogue that Kieran initially calls her “the ogre” before correcting himself to “Ogerpon” – apparently, he’s only quite recently made an effort to shift what he calls her in his head. It’s true that in his reaction to her in the Champion battle, he did indeed just call her “the ogre”. It’d make sense that he didn’t actually work to shift his mental idea of what to call her during his Indigo Disk arc, despite knowing her species name, because the name “Ogerpon” likely brought back too many painful reminders of everything that happened in Kitakami. It was probably easier for him to just stick with “the ogre” and try to forget anything had changed. But he’s okay with what happened now!
And maybe Kieran trying to make a habit of using her name now is a sign that he’s started to realise that Ogerpon is her own individual who’s not quite the same as the mental image he always had of what “the ogre” was like? Maybe. It’s hard to be sure. Unfortunately the epilogue/postgame can’t do much with Ogerpon because it’s always optional for her to be on your team or even in your game at all (since you could in theory have released her or traded her away). But we can at least hypothetically imagine that in Kieran’s continued interactions with you, he’ll get the chance to hang out with Ogerpon a little and come to understand her better. It certainly seems now that he’d be able to hang out with both you and her without feeling uncomfortably jealous, which is a good start! (And Terapagos is on the list of ‘people’ he owes an apology to, so let’s imagine he gets a chance to do that, too.)
Moving forward
The “climax”, such as there is one, of Kieran’s mini-arc of scenes in the clubroom is him excitedly telling you that he’s had the BB League drop him from their rankings. Although your character seems a little bewildered by it (they are still a bit of a social dumbass), this is in fact an extremely good thing for Kieran! He’s taking a step back from the competitive side of things for the sake of his mental health, so that he can untangle himself from the toxically-obsessive mindset that he was in back when he was only focused on winning! Look at Kieran doing all this good self-reflection and self-care, it is so lovely to see. He doesn’t even seem to view this as any sign of him failing, either – he’s just comfortably acknowledging that he needs to do this for now for his own sake and there’s no shame in that.
Kieran seems pretty sure that he is going to want to get back into competing once he’s cleared his head a bit, but he’s already so much more casual and healthy about it! He says he’s going to shoot for the Champion title again, and even if you respond with a friendly taunt of “You still won’t beat me!”, he takes it so well. He’s genuinely okay now with the thought that he might never quite be good enough to beat you – he just wants to have fun trying. Look at how far he’s come!
In the meantime, while he sorts his head out, he just wants to spend time with his Pokémon (who mean a lot to him as far more than just sources of battling strength!) and his human friends (whom he has so many of now???) and figure out what he really wants to do with himself from here. Good for him!
Kieran’s still just a kid, and seeing him already learn how to grow from his mistakes and face up to his lingering issues and be just so emotionally healthy about things now is such a promising sign for wherever he’s going to end up in future. I love that the epilogue and these postgame clubroom scenes put so much effort into showing us this about Kieran now, reassuring us that he really is going to be okay. I truly could not be more proud of or happy for my boy.
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sunshine-jesse · 3 months
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In defense of Andrew Graves: Facing Yourself​
Alt title: Andrew Graves: The Will to Plow Her
I think my analysis of Andrew is one of the best essays I've written so far. But since then, I think I've expanded my understanding of his character in a way that urges me to add on to my prior essay. What I intend on doing is further fleshing out my reading of Burial, and going deeper in detail on why I think Decay ends up panning out the way it does. This essay will end up sharing a lot of text with my prior one, but will add enough scattered throughout that I think it merits a complete reread instead of just scrolling down and seeing what's new.
I've focused a lot on Ashley in my past writings. She's my favorite character in the story (and depending on how episode 3 pans out, maybe ever) and I'm pretty mortified by how some parts of the fandom have reacted towards her, so I pretty much made it my life's mission to push back against that. From highlighting the ways Andrew mistreats her, to coming up with justifications for her behavior that aren't just being a manipulative bitch, I really wanted to prove that a more favorable picture of her could be painted than most were willing to.
But in doing so, I've left Andrew in the dust.
In highlighting his flaws and the ways he mistreats Ashley, I think I've implied a level of intentionality to his actions that I don't believe he has. When I say that Ashley did nothing wrong, it's in direct response to the idea that she holds the most responsibility and agency in how their dynamic plays out, when in reality, I believe she has very little. Most of her actions in-story are in reaction to a variety of stimuli that come directly from Andrew, that he has control over and are aware of how Ashley feels about. His refusal to use clear and direct language to deny her most toxic tendencies causes her more and more stress as time goes on, and instead of giving her clear answers he opts to be catty, passive-aggressive, or, at his worst, threatening. Never direct and never clear, except when establishing boundaries over his name after the choking scene. Andrew fails to help Ashley be better in some frankly depressing ways throughout the whole story, especially in their childhoods, so we never get to see where she'd fall short if given a better influence.
...
Kind of. More on that later!
In mentioning his thing about preferring to be called Andrew instead of Andy, I also implicitly mention one of the places where Ashley falls short in their dynamic and could stand to do better: recognition.
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This scene says a lot. It's the most heartbreaking scene in the game, if you ask me, and probably the single most profound and well-written moment in the entire story. I could write a whole 2000 word essay on it alone, but I've already said most of what I have to say about it through what I've said in other essays, so I'll spare you all that. Instead, I'll use it to highlight something:
"I had fun."
Their dysfunction is fun to her. She's so used to abuse and alienation that even the most awful, stressful (as far as we know) route of the game is still fun to her. And that's not a sign of her being a secret evil sociopath or whatever; that's actually not abnormal behavior to develop for a lifelong victim of abuse. Those highs and lows, those strong emotional highs and lows are -addicting-. They're -fun.- Part of why abuse victims get into so many abusive relationships is because it's easy to pick up on those patterns of thought and take advantage of them, and the cycle of abuse is often furthered when a victim of abuse tries to draw out mutually abusive behaviors in someone with no interest in having that kind of dynamic.
This is where I'm willing to acknowledge Ashley's manipulative tendencies. Not just as a matter of controlling Andrew for its own sake, purely out of jealousy or possessiveness, but as a matter of trying to further the only dynamic she's ever known in her life. Better the devil you know, right?
That push and pull- that emotional rollercoaster- is all many of us know. And it's all Ashley knows. This dynamic is something she's so used to that she reacts incredibly harshly to any attempt to change it, because she doesn't know that things can be better. Because of this, she refuses to engage with who Andrew really is, and tells herself- and him- that she *hates* Andrew:
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This scene is almost as heartbreaking as the above one in a lot of ways.
Andrew putting his foot down about the Andy/Andrew name dichotomy wasn't arbitrary and it wasn't just about his comfort. It was about Andrew giving a clear indication about what needs to happen for their relationship to improve. He's recognizing the cycle between them and wants to put a stop to it, because he's confident that things between them CAN get better and evolve into something healthier. Ashley, not understanding that their dynamic can get better, because their "fun" little push and pull of abuse is all she knows, rejects that. She rejects the unknown, and says- in Andrew's mind at least- that she'll never accept that new dynamic, nor will she accept who he really is.
Ouch. No wonder he looks so sad in that screenshot.
They have a conflict of understanding here, and I think it's fair to pin most of the responsibility on Ashley. Andrew was clear in what he wanted, and Ashley just... Didn't. She didn't see the importance of it ("...whatever that means in practice") and didn't really ask. This gap in communication, perfectly displayed in this scene, is likely what causes the Decay ending. He wants things to be better, and wants to treat Ashley better, and whether or not he understands the ways in which she communicates with him is in part what determines what he sees her as.
But there's a lot of evidence that he always wanted things to be better, that he always wanted to treat her better. But external factors have made it very, very difficult, and I think there are two key points in which he started to shed the importance of those external factors and seek that better relationship, both of which happening in the apartment: The killing of the warden and the 302 lady. In the first case, he was forced to do it to protect Ashley in a way he hadn't done before, or depending on how you look at it, since the death of Nina. But the intentionality was the key point here. After this point, he calls Ashley Leyley, which may or may not seem important at this point, but it's something I'll draw attention to later, so keep that in mind.
Next is the killing of the 302 lady, which is the much, much bigger point. We don't learn much about it until later on- as at first he just gives an excuse about the nail gun that doesn't line up with what we see on the map- but during the dream, it's revealed it was a calculated, intentional killing that he did to make sure there was no evidence left behind, and because Ashley (supposedly) would've wanted him to do it anyway. I say supposedly because Ashley herself doesn't seem to ever want Andrew to kill for her past Nina's death, because he only ever kills for her to defend one or both of them. If you want more evidence that violence for violence's sake isn't something she wants, look at this part in the final dream:
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A knife isn't what opens the door, despite it being placed on the ground in that very map. While it seems obvious that the knife (violence) would be the key to solving the puzzle, it's put there explicitly to show you that it isn't. It's not what she wants; what she wants is a flower.
So, why is this important? Why am I centering Ashley- again- when this essay is supposed to be about Andrew?
It's because these two killings are when Andrew's self-delusion over who he really is starts to break down. It's still there, mind, as he still relies upon Ashley as an excuse to justify it, but, as well as what I've said before, the name ultimatum is an implicit confession that the normalcy he finds comfort in is starting to lose its grasp on him. There's a lot that's been said about Andy being something close to a "moral impulse" for Andrew, given his child self's reaction to Nina's death being the only thing he does that approximates a normal moral response to his and Ashley's actions, but if you do think that- which I think is a reasonable thing to think even if I don't necessarily agree- there's something you must also keep in mind:
-He- is the one who doesn't want to be called that anymore. -He- is the one who wants to let that moral impulse go, and Ashley is the one making it difficult.
That reading is assuming that Andy is a moral impulse, which I think is... either wrong or too simplistic. Every time I see that reading, it's from someone who's trying to paint him too sympathetically and absolve him of most moral responsibility. I also find it infantilizing to equate morality with childhood in such a way? But that's another tangent that I didn't sign up to talk about. What I do think, however, is that it's a useful framing device to display his own relationship with morality; the allegory to his child self doesn't have to be there for the general pattern to exist.
When Ashley starts to grill Andrew over the killing of the 302 lady, he gets mad. Very mad. Ashley sees it as pointless, as him covering his own ass, but he genuinely did it for her sake, because he thought that's what she wanted, and that it'd make her happy. But what makes her happy isn't violence- or any similarly extreme action for that matter- it's attention and validation. Something he's always reluctant to give her, despite the fact that he always chose her over the alternatives. But despite making that choice, it's always empty and meaningless, because in Ashley's mind, he never did it for her sake.
And hoo boy, does he not like it being framed like this.
He is perfectly willing to do whatever it takes to keep them happy and safe... but only for her sake. It has to be for her sake. He still needs that traditional role, and he still needs to have a narrative in which he's the good guy- a protector. Because it can't be for his sake. It can't be because that's what he wants. He has to uphold that romantic (in the literary tradition sense) ideal. His darkly romantic idealistic streak colors many of his actions and beliefs. This is most plainly visible in his quip about a double suicide being romantic, but it's also visible within the symbolism present within his dream, such as how he can only pave his own path in blood unless Ashley lights the way. It's visible within his appreciation for poetry, and it's visible with how the cultist within the dream speaks in Shakespearean English.
But the transient nature of this ideal is also revealed within this dream, because there's never a cohesive, guided path, even with Ashley there to light it up. Contrary to Ashley's dream, where you literally have maps showing you where to go, Andrew's dream has many more dead ends and no map to guide him. The symbolic role he acts out gives him no clarity, and there's no overarching narrative; merely a bunch of disconnected symbols.
This is contrasted with Ashley's dream, which has narratives so clear that the story literally gives the dream an episode title.
In a sense, he wants to view himself as an actor acting out a role in a story. He wants his life to be poetic, to represent something greater, and to have a cohesive narrative. This is why he's so disconnected from his true desires: He's more concerned with acting as a representative of an ideal than a person with agency. But every time the mask drops, every time he stops acting, his true self becomes visible. He naturally settles into being comfortable around Ashley, in treating her with warmth and kindness, and their banter becomes much less toxic. As intent as he is on acting out his role, it does nothing for him, and as his dream sequence shows, it doesn't even form a cohesive narrative, because he can't act one out. It's too contrary to who he really is, and what he really wants. But that idealization doesn't just apply to himself, it also applies to Ashley. Specifically, who Ashley is, vs who he wants her to be.
In his unique dream sequence, he sees two versions of Ashley; the child version of her- Leyley- and the adult version of her- Ashley. And the differences in the ways he interacts with the two of them are stunning. Leyley is an obstinate, annoying child. She's the one he NEEDS to take care of, and he hates that. He hates Leyley for what she did for his childhood. He hates that he needs to provide for her. He has the option of trying to kill her, even, over something as small as a candle!
But in the room with all the murders, the gilded cage, he sees Ashley as an adult. This version of Ashley is stuck in a closet that he himself has to open- and to choose to see. Their interactions are calm and friendly. She teases him a bit, sure, but she's still helpful, and they have fun together. He doesn't need her, and she doesn't need him. He needed Leyley- needed the candle- but here, there are other limbs strewn about for him to take. And, crucially, he doesn't even have the option to kill this Ashley for one of the limbs.
And during the choking scene, he lets her go the moment she acknowledges that he doesn't need her anymore. This is the first time we know of that he seems comfortable enough to set a clear boundary, which is acknowledging that their prior dynamic is dead and that they're now Andrew and Ashley, not Andy and Leyley. It's a bit late to express a clear boundary -after- literally acting like he was going to kill someone, but it's the first time we know of that he sets a clear standard for what, in his mind, would improve his relationship with Ashley.
After all, what he wants is to want her, not need her. He wants Ashley for Ashley's sake. Not for what she can provide him. He doesn't even need her for sleep, he just wants her. But Ashley has trouble acknowledging this, because he's never before shown that WANT. Only a NEED. She keeps trying to find ways to make him need her, because she's never seen what his desire for her is really like. She's only ever seen him desiring someone else, someone other than her.
She's only ever seen him as Andy, because she's never truly seen Andrew, only the violence he can inflict on others. But Andrew can see both:
He can see Leyley, the needy, bratty child who always needs his attention, that he needs to provide for. The one he hates and wants to get rid of. The one he kills for to protect.
And he can see Ashley, the one who engages in friendly and cute banter with him. Who comforts and shows him physical affection. The one he loves. The one he kills for to make happy.
He just can't choose which one he wants to see. Every outside influence- from his parents, to Julia, to Nina- makes him see her as Leyley. Ashley herself makes him see her as Leyley too, whenever she brings up all the things he did for her, and calls him Andy, his child self, instead of Andrew, his current self. And as long as he sees that child, he feels like one too, and can never give Ashley anything that comes from the heart.
But he really, really wants to see Ashley as an adult. He wants to take pride in her, how much she's grown, and how driven and competent she really is.
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But god damn, does that bitch ever make it hard, because there IS no real difference between Ashley and Leyley. She's grown and changed over time, taking more adult (and stereotypically feminine) responsibility upon herself, but the fact that her temperament and personality hasn't changed much obfuscates that growth. When you talk to Ashley in the closet during the dream after getting the limb, Andrew asks Ashley to come out of the closet, but she refuses to come out because he won't invite Leyley over to play, which is a pretty strong metaphor for how he interfaces with different aspects of Ashley's personality and refuses to accept others. But the reality is that he needs to accept both, or rather, see her whole self as Ashley, rather than just the parts he likes.
In the end, it's him who has to make the choice how to see her. Ashley can only see what she's been shown, but Andrew can choose.
And in the basement scene, he makes that choice.
If Ashley refuses to leave him alone with their parents, that's it. In one of the most critical and important moments of his life, she couldn't give him the space needed to make up his own mind. She couldn't treat him as an adult. She couldn't see him as Andrew. If she does give him that choice, she chooses to acknowledge that Andrew is an adult who can be trusted to make his own decisions, even though she (perhaps foolishly) believes that this choice lines up with her own interests. And frankly it does either way, but in accepting their mom's offer, her chooses to see her as Leyley once and for all. He chooses not to reciprocate what Ashley showed him. He does it because he needs to, not because he wants to. Because it's his duty, not his desire.
This is what results in the Decay ending. Through his inability to see Ashley as an adult, he surrenders his agency and views all of his actions as an extension of his responsibilities, his role, which he no longer wishes to uphold. He dissociates fully from who he really is, acting in accordance with that disconnected, barely-cohesive narrative that exists only within his mind. The game starts to resemble the heartwrenching tragedy that many seem to take for granted that it is, as their dynamic fully doubles down on its painful toxicity. And, in an example of a poetic book end, Ashley's dream shows a double suicide, closing the book on their tragic tale.
It's tragic. It's heartwrenching. It's poetic. It's beautiful.
...Except it's not. Not at all.
It's actually fucking stupid, pointless, and brutal, and Burial shows us that. When we view their spiral as beautiful, we project the same darkly romantic ideal that Andrew possesses onto the story.
But the actual reality is horrifying.
Ashley spends most of Decay terrified of Andrew, the one person she found comfort in. He acts cold, distant, and aggressive towards her, showing pointless cruelty instead of any warmth. All she wants is comfort; all she wants is to not die. She doesn't want to engage in this death spiral at all, and, in her dream sequence, shows none of the same willingness to die alongside Andrew that Andrew does with her. The moment we stop focusing on the end of the Decay dream sequence, which has very striking imagery, and if you choose not to shoot, one of the most beautiful scenes in the game, we can see it for what it really is:
A scared animal running away from a predator.
The moment you see Decay through Ashley's eyes, and not the perspective of some romantic ideal, Decay becomes terrifying, tense, and painful. There is no catharsis to be had in this tragedy. It's easily avoidable as long as Andrew chooses to engage with reality, and not the empty promises of his mother and incoherent narrative of his ideal.
Finding beauty and meaning in tragedy is how we cope with the harshness of reality. But there is no coherent narrative to the tragedies we experience, just like there's no coherent narrative to the ideal Andrew wishes to uphold. It's something we create- that he creates- but it's not something that actually exists.
And when Andrew casts aside his desire for that ideal, and the responsibilities it shackles him to, it grants him clarity that he never had before. He sees the world for how it really is, and acknowledges that nobody- the least of which their mother- is as different from Ashley as they pretend to be.
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They're no better than her, and he's tired of people pretending that they are. People are all the same, no matter what ideals they try to uphold and represent. They still sacrifice others in the name of advancing themselves, still punch down whenever they can, and still lay blame on those beneath them rather than try to take control of their lives. They just use those ideals to justify themselves, but Ashley, and now Andrew, reject even the need for that justification.
This is why I believe the story is nihilistic. Not in that it asserts the inherent meaninglessness of life, but in that it grapples with the ideals we uphold and how they obfuscate the reality of the world we live in. The story, intentionally or not, highlights how ideals are often but a pretense we use to justify what we were likely going to do regardless, and how holding to them too strongly can lead to our ruin- and how monstrous they make us look to those who do not share them.
Consequently, this is how I view the part of the fanbase who thinks Decay is a good ending.
(the characters themselves represent existentialism rather than nihilism but i couldn't really fit that analysis in here without it feeling forced so i might cover that another time)
From that point on, their relationship becomes a lot more friendly, lighthearted, and playful. They ironically start acting more like children, but to quote CS Lewis:
"Critics who treat adult as a term of approval, instead of as a merely descriptive term, cannot be adult themselves. To be concerned about being grown up, to admire the grown up because it is grown up, to blush at the suspicion of being childish; these things are the marks of childhood and adolescence."
He's not ashamed of being playful with Ashley, or showing affection towards her. He's grown up. He finally sees her, and himself, as an adult- although he still doesn't show that in full until much later on (more or that later). But in Decay, he still sees her as a child, and to an extent, probably himself. Let's compare the ways in which he reacts to being called Andy. In Decay, he lashes out at Ashley and gets angry, even threatening her. But in Questionable Burial, he calmly says that Andy is dead and doesn't need Ashley's comfort, but still tries to reassure her that she's still needed. He's not ashamed of or hostile towards their prior dynamic, because he's grown past it. He still acknowledges Ashley's need to feel needed, but here, he recognizes its importance to her, whereas he was hostile towards it before.
It's a display of respect towards her feelings.
This interaction doesn't happen in the Sane ending, however. He doesn't play games with her and is just a lot less fun to be around all together. Why is that? Because he still hasn't yet shaken viewing Ashley as Leyley there. He still views her as a burden, as someone who needs taking care of. He's calmly accepted that, too, mind you, but he lacks respect for her because she's still a child, in his mind. But in Questionable?
The vision did more than just make him extremely embarrassed and lay his deepest desires bare. It forced him to recognize Ashley as an adult. When choosing between "Never" and "Never say never," if Never is chosen, the burden of thought is lifted off of him. But if Ashley chooses "Never say never!", he has to reckon with the fact that Ashley is an adult, someone who can consent to those kinds of things. Someone who MIGHT. Someone who has agency, and can make her own decisions. And more importantly… someone who can trust him to make his own.
Whether he desires sex or not is secondary; he's always had those feelings and has always been ashamed of them. But now that the part of him where that shame came from is dead and buried, there's no childish impulse to grow up. There's no attachment to the hate and bitterness he had before. Look at what he worries about when he picks up that she's uncertain or confused about who he is now:
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It's her feelings.
He wants to be fun to be around. He wants to make Ashley happy. He loves her, and not as a romantic interest or even as a sibling. He loves her independent of all that baggage.
He loves her as a person.
Their relationship runs contrary to societal ideals in some pretty huge ways. So contrary, in fact, that it's hard for some to accept it as anything good, that it can ever be best for the people involved. It's incestuous. It involves them killing and eating their parents. It involves them distancing themselves so much from society that it's hard to believe they'll ever fit in it again. It's chaotic, it's messy, it's codependent, and maybe even toxic. And yet, here they are. They're coexisting. They're happy. They're healing. They're navigating the world in the only way they can: together.
Meanwhile, in Decay, Andrew refuses to allow himself to get closer to Ashley. He surrenders all agency to her, buys into his own narrative, drinks his own Kool-Aid, and may or may not condemn one or both of them to death in the process. Like it or not, the only path where Andrew takes ownership of his life is the one where he's closest to his sister. It's the one where he decides where they will go next, the one where he decides his own feelings matter, and acts in accordance with what he wants instead of how he thinks he should act.
His agency, his freedom, and his growth don't happen in spite of his codependency; they're happen because of it. They can't grow alone. They can't heal alone.
In reading the story, one must interrogate how important those societal ideals are in the face of the realities of what makes people happy. Are those ideals worth upholding in spite of this? Can we really allow people to fall through the cracks in the name of social norms? Can we blame people for taking rash actions when the social contract has failed them?
Or are we so blinded by those ideals that we can't see that people can be happy while blatantly disregarding them?
All I know is that in Burial, Andrew, having cast aside normalcy, now appears to be truly happy for the first time in his life.
Who are we to take that from him?
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yiminsuu · 1 year
Text
No Control
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Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x F!Reader
Warnings: Sexual themes (+18), dubious consent, unprotected sex, (semi) public sex, breeding, some fluff and angst, La Plaga acts like an aphrodisiac, mutual pining, reader and Leon are bad at communication.
Author’s Note: People don't know how invested I am in the Resident Evil games right now, if I loved the original games you can imagine how much I adore the remakes. Also, I've been having the most horrid of writing blocks in existence, I had this draft for 2 months! 2 MONTHS!!
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Roaming around the castle with, apparently, no exit, is frustrating and even more so when you think your friend can't be as dumb as people think she is, but here we are, Ashley has gone missing once more and I'm stuck with Leon, who is sick with La Plaga and refuses to take a minute to regain strength by resting. My worries grow the more we proceed, and it seems he is obsessed with taking all the hits to himself, even though I can use a gun. I'm not the one the government is looking for, I know very well no one is looking for me, and if Leon hadn't found me I wouldn't be alive to see Ashley or, for lack of better words, to see her running around the castle to supposedly keep us safe.
"Are you sure you are alright?" I spoke, receiving a glance from Leon as we make our way through a corridor. "I should be the one asking you that, that knife stab was not pretty." I refuse to let myself be the damsel in distress, and I admit I can do many things if you give me a weapon, but in the last attack we were surrounded by the monks. The excruciating pain came as a shock, I couldn't move and my scream must have made Leon panic because his attention went immediately to me and the wound on my shoulder. "Do you need me to change the bandage?" I shook my head and lowered my gaze, letting the silence invade the space. I don't know if he can feel the tension, but dammit, ever since this Ada appeared out of nowhere there was this tightness in the air I couldn't quite grasp. I'm afraid Leon isn't as talkative as he was a few hours ago and I wonder why, he makes sure I'm protected even if I don't need it... Most of the time... And he refuses to make eye contact. Perhaps I did or said something he didn't like but I don't really see him as the type to hold a grudge against something like that, Leon doesn't believe it, but he literally is an angel.
Suddenly, Leon halts all of his movements and holds his head tightly in his hands, grunting in pain as he fell to his knees. We need to get to a safer area, La Plaga surely is a son of bitch to deal with. I placed his arm around my neck and helped him to move before someone sees us, clenching my gun in rising stress. "(Y/N)..." He muttered my name in a very low tone, he's completely out of it. I took Leon for as long as I could before he let himself fall to his knees again, his back hitting the wall abruptly. "Leon? Hey, stay with me. I'll give you some medicine and I'll go look for Ashley." As soon as I said that, his pained expression was gone, replaced by an alarmed one. "You can't go on your own...!"
"We have to save Ashley, and you are too weak because of the virus. I'll be fast." Leon's hand grabbed my arm harshly, and I'm sure it was going to leave a mark soon. In reality, he looked a lot sicker than I thought he would, his eyes were changing to red little by little, and even like this, he refused to look at me. "I don't..." He whispered, I furrowed my brows in concern. "Want you to die..." I once wondered why he seemed closed off, so serious and quiet, his kind demeanor quickly rushed away those thoughts but this surely answered many questions I couldn't ask him for obvious reasons. 
I sighed deeply, sitting next to him and doing my best to calm down as he laid his head on my shoulder. We're not safe anywhere, so once someone finds us it will be game over, strangely, we haven't seen any enemy for the past 40 minutes.
Time goes by and we rest as much as we can in the lone room, I would occasionally touch Leon's head hoping he hasn't caught a fever, unfortunately, he was starting to burn up and I know it wasn't from walking under the cold rain. I kneel away and gain an unhearable mumble from the man, and checking on him closely, I see his rapidly rising chest, reddened cheeks, and hair disheveled from the short nap. "What is it doing to you?" I questioned confused, and slightly panicked when Leon opened his eyes to stare at me, pupils dilated and red with something I couldn't identify. "Leon...?" Slowly, he moved his legs apart and set down the shotgun, my eyes widened.
The bulge in his pants was massive. 
A whimper escaped from my lips before I recomposed myself, is this one of the side effects of La Plaga?
Leon looked embarrassed beyond belief, trying to hide his face as much as possible. "I want to touch you." He started. "I need to... You have to get away." Leon... Wants to touch me? 
No. This is not Leon, it's La Plaga speaking and messing with his body and mind, I have to find Luis as soon as possible and destroy the virus. "Hang in there." With that, I immediately ran away, but my heartbeat increased when the sound of footsteps caught up to me, crying loudly when two arms elevated me from behind. "Leon! Let me go--!" Before I know it, Leon lowered us, pressing my body onto the ground as his weight settles over my back. A groan escaped my lips, ready to grab my gun just to be swiftly incapacitated by the agent. "Leon...!"
"Quiet." Eyes widening at the deep sound of his voice, I noticed his breathing worsening the more he let the parasite take control. His hands shook and he slowly held up my leg to allow me to turn around, out of sympathy for someone I consider a friend, I stared into Leon's eyes. The sight broke my heart, he looked aroused, confused, a flushing mess of a guy that has an idea of what is about to happen. His brows furrowed the more tightly he grabbed on my clothing, just to have it ripped within a second, my only undergarments being my panties. I couldn't help but shiver from the cold surroundings. Leon bit his lip and glared at his own impotence to control the parasite, his firm, calloused fingers caress a smooth path along my skin before gently spreading my legs.
"It's okay..." Leon looked at me, bewildered at my words. If there was no way of escaping this, then at least we can make each other feel better somehow. "Just... Do what you have to do. I-I'll be fine..." 
Leon closed his eyes slowly and with a shaky breath, his knife sliced my last remaining decency and he cupped my cunt, both of us became acutely aware of just how wet I am. It would be a lie to claim Leon is not good-looking, a good guy, and perhaps I'm the bad one because I found myself daydreaming of him like this. The touch felt heated, the pressure is delicious, and I can’t help but push my hips up, seeking more contact, more friction, just more of Leon... But his hand is already moving away. The tip of one finger slides a line to my clit, and my whole body jolts at the electric contact, his nervous pants are hot as he made slow, precise circles over and over on my clit. Then his hand dips lower, sinking two thick fingers into me. It punches the air out of me, leaving only an ache, my mind feels raw around the edges, fuzzy with the sharp spike of heat spearing through me. 
I know what he's doing, Leon doesn't want to hurt me, but he's letting it harm him the more he tries to restrain it. He pulled his hand away, it’s like a bucket of cold water dumped over my head, I watch him through half-lidded eyes, breath panting as my lungs squeeze painfully tight in my chest. I heard the sound of a belt amongst our hard breathing, he sounded relieved for a second. I shivered when I felt his tip pressing against my hole, Leon holds himself there, and I spasm in place while the wait becomes excruciating. I don’t know what he’s doing until I hear the inhale of a breath.
"I'm sorry..."
Then I feel everything, pain, pleasure, warmth, the sensation of being filled without mercy. I moaned, his hand firm on my waist as he pins me down. His jaw tenses, watching himself slide out me slowly, waiting for some type of signal that would mean he can and should stop, but nothing comes, in fact, it makes it worse. Leon is looming above me, wrapping one hand around his slick cock, wet with pre-come dripping from the flushed tip. "Fuck..." He muttered, yanking me even closer toward him and notching the tip of his cock at my entrance. I braced myself for penetration, anticipating the stretch of him with a pathetic whimper.
The first slide as he filled me up again with his cock is fucking heaven, a sweet aching stretch that sends pleasure singing out along my every nerve. My thighs tremble, my body arching against him without any input from me, clenching down around his girth while my vision flickered. Leon groaned shamefully, he sounded desperate the faster he moved, I swear I can see fucking stars. He doesn’t stop, he can't, he thrusts himself into me with harsh, deep thrusts and pleasure spreads up my stomach, twining along my legs, and I can feel my orgasm building already.
My breath comes out as a sob, tears stinging my eyes as my cunt clenched and squeezed around the hardness of his cock, twitching and jerking in response. A hand rested against my cheek, it didn't slow Leon's motions, but it was the softest response I had from him since this whole ordeal started. I placed my hand on his in response to his concern, and those beautiful eyes of his slammed shut, biting out a curse. 
If this wasn't caused by a lethal virus I would be happy to think he feels the same way, but shit... Even if this is only to aid him a little I don’t mind being a cum bucket for a few hours. Muscles contract and clutch down in a way that's beyond my control when I'm rewarded with more deep thrusts. My eyes widened when he touched my cervix, making me whimper loudly. "L-Leon!!" It’s maddening, pleasure shoots through my entire being before rolling my eyes back and cumming around his cock...
He doesn't stop, Leon doesn't stop-- Fuck! He's not stopping!
I try to push him away from me, but it's all for naught as he relentlessly thrusts himself into me. "Almost, I'm almost there..." He spoke, his skin slapping against mine with no signs of stopping soon. Fucking liar, trying to make me feel better when we know it feels like we're both going to die. "Look at me, (Y/N)... Don't close your eyes." Slowly but surely, I indulged, and all I can see is his eyes burning into me, pupils blown so wide that they were almost pitch black. Leon's intense gaze fixed on me is like I'm the only thing that exists to him, I want him to stop, but I'm too far gone to say any word.
We're stripped of thinking at this point, Leon is going feral little by little and he's not letting me go, I doubt he will try to control La Plaga again. I screamed whenever he would hit my cervix, unable to close my mouth if only for shame, but I'm blissed out of my mind and overstimulated. I met his dark gaze, finding his eyes on my body once more, maybe he hasn't stopped staring at all. "Stop-- F-Fuck! Staring--!" I choked on a moan, it was barely coherent, but somehow I managed to get the words out. With a startled yell, I was pulled to his lap and sighed in relief at the change of position. "Better?" Leon whispered into my ear, once I nodded, he began thrusting as if he has the stamina to last a lifetime.
My hands clenched on his shirt, mentally cursing again and again at how perfectly he fills me, he's hitting every right spot. Leon puts a hand across my hair, his eyes softening and planting small kisses on my shoulder and neck to calm me down, repeating that he'll be over soon, that he's sorry. The sweet burning ache builds immediately, deep and consuming, the blissful pleasure swirls tight and insistent somewhere deep in my belly. I can't recognize any more words outside of my own, but Leon's voice is gentle, the softness is in direct contrast to the way I'm crying and begging. I reached up and tangled my hand in his hair, drawing him closer so I can kiss him.
Leon's arms come around me as his hips thrust up, a small cry coming out of my mouth as he licked my lips. He groaned, hips adjusting his angle, arms pulling me down greedily so I can meet his non-stopping strikes, again and again with a hard and rough pace. With this new position, it doesn’t take me long to feel that familiar warmth, all I can do is cling to him as everything inside me intensifies in every sense of the word. "(Y/N)..." Pleasure spills over my body, it's chaotic and too much, bright spots blinding my vision as I come, harder than I ever have in my life, and squirting all over Leon's shirt and lap. 
Leon still isn’t stopping, pushing deep into me as his thrusts don’t slow even when his cum coats my walls, a broken gasp escaping him. "F-Fuck, Leon!" The blinding bliss spikes through my blood, hot and piercing. It’s pitiful the way I'm sobbing and whining as he continues relentlessly with his strokes until both of us are completely spent. Finally, he stills, collapsing on the ground with me above him, and we lay there like that for a long moment, panting in absolute euphoria.
I feel sleepy and sated, with all the stress of being hunted down this was like a breath of fresh air, and reality went blurry and faded at the edges. "Didn't think this would happen, but thanks..." Leon said, panting. I hummed, trying to calm my heartbeat. "Sorry about your clothes."
I snickered at his awkwardness after such intense sex. "I doubt you are." The silence came back, but it wasn't as uncomfortable as I thought it would be, his arms were hugging my form and I felt safe and protected. Then he sat with me resting against him. "I'm alright, seriously. Still, I doubt I will be able to walk for a while." 
Leon looked away embarrassed but turned back to me, kissing my forehead. "Wanna get coffee after this?"
I smiled tiredly, but deep down the feeling of joy flourished. "Yeah, now go on and look for some clothes, I don't want Ashley to ask."
446 notes · View notes
iichaeyj · 1 year
Text
YOU ARE IN LOVE
PAIRING: best friend!jake x f!reader GENRE: fluff, mutual pining WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol (both jake and the reader are overage!), not proof read WORD COUNT: 3.3k
A/N: inspired by "You Are In Love" by taylor swift !!
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You look around the room filled with flashing lights and people dancing around each other in search for a familiar face. Turning your head side to side, you scan the room until your eyes land on a set of brown hair that you've known since you were in middle school. You smile immediately upon sighting Jake and you squeeze your way through the crowd of people to go to him.
"Jake!" you shout above the music as you wave your right hand fervently in the air as you get closer to him.
Hearing your voice, his eyes meet yours and instantly brings a smile to his face. "You ready to leave?" he shouts back.
As you approach your best friend, he grabs your outstretched hand and pulls you to him. His hand holds yours as he's done many times before, and you're lucky that the red lighting in the room hides the growing blush on your face.
In response to his question, you nod quickly. "I think I've had as much fun as I could have," you say as he leans in closer to hear.
Jake quickly finishes the red solo cup in his hand and sets it down next to the table, his left hand not letting go of yours. He nods his head towards the front door and leads you out of the party. The cold air relieves you after the hours of dancing with random strangers that left you feeling hot. The music begins to fade into the background and all you can hear is the owl of the night and your ever-growing heartbeat as you look down at the hand Jake still has hold of.
"Did you have fun?" you ask your best friend who has slowed down to match your pace.
He thinks for a moment, his eyes fixed on the night sky before looking back at you. "It was alright," he shrugs. "I think you enjoy these things more than I do."
You think back on the night you've just had. Ever since you two arrived, you've spent the night talking with your friends, playing games, and dancing with people you're probably never going to see again. However, Jake had spent his entire night standing behind you, drinking water in the corner of the room, or occasionally talking to Heeseung whenever he was nearby.
You frown at the realization that the night might've been less than exciting for Jake. "You didn't have to take me here, you know," you say. "I didn't want you to have a bad time."
"I never said I had a bad time," Jake retorts with a small shrug. "I got to see how bad you are at dancing."
You roll your eyes as you give him a small shove, earning a laugh from the boy next to you. "I'm a wonderful dancer, even Niki said so!" you argue.
"Well Niki has also once said that he doesn't believe in global warming, so I'm not sure you wanna take his word for it," he teases further with his signature grin on his face.
"Whether I'm a good dancer or not," you say, shooting him a glare, "you still shouldn't have come if you weren't gonna do anything! We could've stayed in and watched a movie or something."
"You wanted to go, though," he says in a soft tone, giving your hand a squeeze. "You know I'd go anywhere you want me to, as long as it's with you."
The cold air does nothing to help your burning face and you turn your face away from him to stare at the ground instead. As you make your way closer to his car, you think about the feelings you've been harboring for your best friend for over a year now. Having been by your side since the 6th grade, Jake knows every single little detail about you. From what kind of clothes you like to what each of your sighs mean, it seems impossible to keep things from him. However, the inevitable realization of how he's grown over the years and how he takes care of you, and seemingly only you, has made you keep a secret that you're too afraid to share.
You wake up with a pounding headache in a familiar room that's not yours. You instantly sit up after realizing you weren't in your house, quickly glancing around the room. However, the smell of cologne and the science textbooks laid on the desk next to the bed tells you enough and puts you at ease once again. You groan from the headache threatening to split your skull.
"Here, take this," you hear as the door opens with a loud creak. You look up to be met by Jake staring down at you with a hangover cure in one hand and a plate of eggs and bacon in the other.
You gratefully take the hangover cure, downing it in one go and muttering a "thanks" as you take the plate from his hands. Jake sits down in front of you in the bed, watching your every move as you eat the breakfast with the fork he had also provided.
"Are you feeling better?" Jake asks with a soft smile once you finish eating.
You nod slowly as you set the plate down on the desk next to you. "What happened?" you ask with a sheepish grin, your hands fumbling with the gray sheets of his bed.
"Well Jay drove you over here after you had too many drinks at a party, claiming that he didn't know where you lived and you refused to tell him your address, so he took you here," Jake says, then pointing at the plate he had made you, "and I just nursed you back to health."
You blush in embarrassment, looking down at the hoodie you had on over your clothes from last night.
Noticing your gaze, Jake comments, "And you also asked for all of my clothes, including undergarments, but considering I have to go to a lecture later today, I just gave you a hoodie in hopes that you'd be satisfied."
Jake smiles cheekily as you get more embarrassed, fragments of the night before now coming back to you. "I feel like I owe you dinner," you finally say with a sigh.
"You know I never decline free food, but you don't really 'owe' me anything," Jake replies.
You let out a loud groan as you hide your face with your hands. "This is so embarrassing, Jake!" you complain, face pink at the horrifying realization that you had asked your best friend for his underwear for no reason whatsoever.
Jake takes your hands off your face with his, smiling as he sees your flushed face. "It isn't that bad. Remember that time we had a lecture and the teacher heard you talking about how you wanted to shine his bald head?"
You give Jake a push as you're forced to relive your worst memories right in front of him, your face heating up again. However, Jake, on the other hand, seems to be enjoying your suffering. "Come on, it isn't that bad," he says with a softer voice when he sees your flushed cheeks. "It was just me."
"It's still so embarrassing, though," you complain.
"I've known you since you had that bowl cut in middle school," Jake says with a convincing smile, raising his hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. "Trust me when I say that nothing could ever make me see you in any way that's not endearing."
His words tickle your ear as you hear them, the gentle tone of his voice mixed with his hand that lingers by your face hitting you harder than it should've. You look up and see his face already looking at you, eyes big just as they always are, but somehow holding more meaning to them than they ever did before. You find yourself subconsciously memorizing the way his hands feel against your skin and the way his lips are coated in a smile whenever he talks to you. You knew that Jake was attractive, but this feeling was something that shouldn't be happening to you, not with your best friend.
You let out a small gasp and snap away from your trance, the realization of the thoughts you just had hitting you all at once. "I should get going, my roommate is probably wondering where I am," you say as you make your way to the door.
Jake nods as you grab your bag he had kept for you by the side of the bed. "I'll see you later then?" he asks.
"Yeah, of course," you reply with a faint smile as you leave. "Come over whenever you want."
"Alright," he says as he waves you off. "I'll make sure to buy you some men's underwear for the next visit!" he says as you leave, and you could hear the smile in his voice that left you feeling more vulnerable than it should've.
Ever since that morning, you've become increasingly aware of yourself around your best friend. Being affectionate since you two were kids, it wasn't abnormal for Jake to have his arm around your shoulders or his hand to be intertwined with yours. You've heard your friends joke about the romance that could spark between you two, but you didn't take it seriously until you came to the realization that he spoke words to you that you've never heard from anyone else.
Jake holds the door open for you as you near his car, the music from the party now barely being able to be heard. "After you, princess," Jake says, bowing slightly to which you feel the need to roll your eyes again. You let go of his hand to get in his passenger's seat and watch as Jake strides over to the driver's seat. Your eyes catch the way the moonlight hits his face and the way his hair moves slightly in the wind and you feel the same feeling you first had in his apartment that morning and have been feeling ever since.
"Can I ask you something?" Jake asks as he drives off, turning the radio on.
"Yeah, what is it?" you ask as the music begins to fill the quiet sound of the night.
"Did I do something wrong?"
Silence sets in. You couldn't think of anything he had done that remotely insulted or hurt you in any way. In fact, Jake being too kind to you was the only problem you had concerning him.
"I feel like you've been growing distant since last month," he says as he stops at the red light. He turns to look at you and the sheer sorrow in his eyes make you hold your breath. You've never seen him look so sad and it both pains and delights you in a strange way. You feel sorry for your best friend who's done nothing wrong, but seeing how you incite such emotion in him that you know no one else can makes you hopeful for a bigger role in his life.
Remembering last month, however, makes you dread the conversation you know you were bound to have.
You sit on the steps of a house hosting a frat party. You could hear people in the background whispering amongst themselves about things you had no idea about. You sit on the concrete and you barely get a chance alone until you hear footsteps come and halt in front of you.
"I was wondering where you went," Jake says as he sits down next to you. "I heard that your ex is here, too."
You let out a small sigh as you look down at the ground, the pebbles lining the ground garnering all your attention. The truth was that you've been over your ex ever since you realized your feelings for Jake. Seeing your ex didn't hurt, but seeing Jake talking to a pretty senior did.
You had to watch as a gorgeous brunette strutted over to Jake from across the room, smiling at him so brightly that Jake smiled back. Watching the two of them, even for a moment, as an outsider made you feel scared for the future you two held if your feelings continued. At the end of the day all you want is what's best for Jake, but the lump in your throat everytime he gets near you is becoming increasingly hard to ignore. And when Jake makes eye contact with you as he's talking to the girl, you suddenly couldn't handle the tension in the room.
"You know, he really isn't worth your time," Jake says in a gentle voice. "He looks much worse without you, and honestly, I think you could've done much better."
You nod and turn your head to give him a bitter smile. You didn't have the courage to tell him that he was the reason you had to leave.
"You deserve someone who takes care of you," Jake says. "Someone who knows you well and would never abandon you."
Hearing no response from you, Jake takes the initiative to move and crouch in front you, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Look at how lucky I am," Jake says with a smile, "to be able to be by your side like this. There's nothing more I could ask for and your ex is an idiot to think otherwise."
The blatant staring contest you two were having matched the same one you had in his room almost a year ago. Your breath still hitched the same way it had the first time, but this time you could focus on the way he looked back at you. His gaze never faltered as he looked into your eyes, almost as if he was searching for something inside your heart. The way he looked at you had never felt so different, but the familiarity of Jake told you that you were safe.
You never had the chance to tell Jake that you weren't jealous over your ex, but him instead. Ever since that night, you've grown increasingly worried about your growing feelings for him and the nagging uncertainty of whether he felt the same. Due to this, you've found yourself taking time away from Jake and going out more. If it weren't for Jake's insistence that he come tonight, you weren't sure when you'd feel able to see him again.
The silence becomes worse as Jake glances at you expectantly, waiting for an answer. However, the temptation to tell him how you truly feel about him is one that you don't wish to give into. The burden of putting your entire relationship with him was on the line and it could snap depending on how Jake felt. With three words, you could possibly end things with the one person you truly love and have loved since you were a kid.
"I wasn't upset because of my ex," you finally say after a decade of silence. "I've been over him for over a year now."
Jake drives in silence as he waits for you to continue, but the line between friendship and whatever would come next was being increasingly shaky.
"Do you have somebody you love?" you ask, your eyes never diverging from the empty road in front of you.
"I do," Jake says as he makes a turn and goes down your street.
"Do you know how it feels when you're constantly scared that the person you love might not love you back and that maybe they'll find love within someone else," you say, not so much as a question but a statement, as Jake pulls onto the sidewalk right in front of your house.
Jake pauses.
You could hear the gears turning in his head. He thinks about the party from a month ago, the way his gaze fluttered from the senior girl to you. He thinks about the moments you two had shared eye contact that never seemed to truly break. He thinks about the times you two sat in silence with nothing being said between you two, but the simple feeling of being in your presence being enough for him. He thinks about you in the way you finally want him to, and the way he's been thinking about you for years now.
"I do," he says in a whisper.
He looks at you and you look back. He knew every detail about you and he understood what your words meant.
"You're my best friend," Jake says, this time barely above a whisper.
His words don't confuse you. Though many may misinterpret his words to be a way of rejecting you, you know that he doesn't feel that way. You could feel it in the way his hand inches closer to you and the way his eyes fall on every detail of your face.
Being someone's best friend meant that they were your home. You two have been each other's safe place since you two first met many years ago. Being best friends didn't mean to Jake Sim that he wanted to keep it that way. Being best friends meant that he was reassuring you that nothing you could say would change how he felt about you and that you felt safe enough for him to finally admit what he wants.
His hand finally reaches you, giving your hand a small squeeze before he reaches up to touch the side of your face. The air is warm and the song from the radio still plays as he looks at you in a way that finally offers an answer.
You knew what it meant.
You knew what it was.
He is in love.
He looks at you again and you give him a small nod. He leans in the same time you do and you share the kiss you've been dreaming about. His hand cups your face and your hand reaches out to hold his. His lips are soft and kiss you gently in a way that tells you that you're safe and that he's been waiting for this moment just as much as you have. His eyes flutter open as you two pull away, his hand still cupping your face and looking at you no differently than how he previously had.
Nothing had changed. Although you two were now classified as something more than just friends, the title of being best friends still remain. You would still see him during class and you were bound to embarrass yourself many more times in front of him, but now you two could share a kiss after every moment and share hugs that meant more than just friendship.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" you say quietly, not wanting to break the atmosphere between you two.
"Yeah, I'll pick you up at 8 AM for class," Jake says, his tone matching yours.
The walk back into your house carries the moment you just had. From the moment you unbuckled your seatbelt to you leaving the car to entering your place, the feeling of Jake Sim didn't leave. The kiss left you breathless even after you had placed your bag on the floor and thrown your jacket onto your couch, and it almost left you from hearing the knocking on the door.
You open the door slightly to find Jake standing there. You stare at him and he doesn't answer.
"I thought you were picking me up tomorrow." you say.
"I can't just leave like this," Jake mutters as he steps forward and closes the gap between you two, cupping your face as he pulls you closer for another kiss.
The feeling of his denim jacket hitting your skin and the ecstasy of his hands on your face hits you with the same feeling again. You felt light on your feet and he left you breathless once again. The feeling of Jake Sim being yours and standing in your front door gave you reassurance of what everything was.
You are in love.
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hairstevington · 8 months
Text
Do I wanna know?
Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington
Summary: Somewhere in the multiverse, there is a world where everyone has a choice - If you had the option of reading a list of everyone who's ever been in love with you, would you do it?
Word Count: 2.6K
Warnings: Modern day AU sort of?? It's not based in realism, just go with it. Best friends to lovers, Robin & Steve & Eddie all live together because I said so, mutual pining, fluff, confession of feelings, lots of denial but they figure it out eventually
A/N: This idea came to me during my stats class, and then it became very difficult to continue focusing on my stats class. (I wrote it as soon as we were dismissed lol). Enjoy this cute little Steddie one shot! Ao3 link here :)
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“Dude, did you see what they just announced?” Steve asked as he played video games with Eddie.
“Yeah, it’s some wild shit,” Eddie replied. “How is it even possible?”
“I think it’s fake,” Robin called from the kitchen as she made them all pizza rolls. 
“Not fake,” Steve insisted. “I was reading about it on the internet and a bunch of people are saying it’s legit.”
“Well, if you read it on the internet, it must be true,” Robin remarked sarcastically. 
“Whatever,” Steve said. “I’m gonna get mine and find out.”
The deal was that, somehow, everyone had the option of getting a list of statistics about their lives. It was advertised with a variety of categories to look through - some of them could have been retrieved through bank statements and background checks, like the number of countries visited, money spent, etc. Other categories (let’s be real, the most intriguing categories), were far more mysterious.
Number of near-death experiences. Every book you’ve read, with a total word count. And, the most exciting of the bunch - How many people have been in love with you, and who.
“Don’t waste your money or your time,” Eddie said with a roll of his eyes. “It’s bullshit. Probably just another way for the government to squeeze more money out of us.”
“Come on, it’s not some conspiracy, Eds,” Steve replied. “I’m just curious, that's all.”
“Oh, I bet,” Robin chimed in. “Just be honest and admit you want to know about the love thing. You and your ego, Dingus.” Steve smiled. He couldn’t argue with her.
“As if you’re not also dying to read yours,” he countered. 
“I’m pretty sure mine would just hurt my feelings,” Robin said with a sigh. “Robin Buckley - loved by her platonic soulmate Steve Harrington and Creepy Carl from band camp.” Eddie snickered.
“Carl wasn’t that creepy,” he said. 
“You’re only saying that because you were also kind of creepy in high school,” she replied. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Eddie responded with a shrug. “But I think I speak for all former creeps when I say we were just socially stunted and awkward. Most of us grew up to be half-decent people.”
“Way to humble brag,” Steve teased. 
“I’m bragging by saying I’m half-decent?” Eddie replied. Steve laughed and nodded. Meanwhile, Robin quickly scrolled through her phone until she stumbled across what she was looking for with a gasp.
“Oh my god,” she said. “Creepy Carl’s most recent post is about how the patriarchy is a myth.” Steve laughed again and pushed Eddie playfully. Eddie flopped over on the couch and groaned.
“Dammit, Carl, I was rooting for you!” he joked. 
“We were all rooting for you, how dare you!” the three of them shouted in unison. 
That was, of course, a reference to America’s Next Top Model, which Robin showed the boys clips of one night during a rant about the toxicity and absolute batshit nature of early 2000s reality TV. That quote, for whatever reason, stuck. They had a lot of inside jokes like that.
This is how life had been for the three of them the last few years. They’d become best friends straight out of high school, then all moved in together. Life was comfortable and nice. 
-
Steve somehow convinced Robin that they would both get their lists together. Eddie, on the other hand, downright refused.
“I don’t need any of that shit,” he insisted. “It’s not gonna do me any good, and I’m perfectly fine staying in the dark.”
“Okay, I get it,” Steve said, holding his hands up. “You’re scared and lame, that’s totally okay.” Eddie rolled his eyes.
“Shut up, dickhead,” he replied. “This whole thing is stupid anyway. And - and it’s not like we can seriously trust whatever it says. It’s probably just…all lies, anyway.”
“Yeah, but they’re fun lies,” Robin countered. “It’s like hearing gossip about your own life.”
“Exactly!” Steve agreed. “It’s just for fun.”
“Have your fun, then,” Eddie said devilishly. “I’ll be in my room, not being an idiot.”
Robin and Steve put their names and date of birth into a search engine and, within five minutes, each had their respective documents in their inboxes. Steve opened his immediately and eagerly, skipping past all the boring shit until he found the good stuff. 
Number of people who have had crushes on Steve Harrington: 436.
Number of people who have been in love with Steve Harrington: 85.
“Holy shit,” he muttered, looking at the long list of names. He looked up from his phone to see Robin staring at the wall. “Why aren’t you reading?”
“I don’t think I can do it,” she said. “I’m chickening out.” Steve scoffed. 
“What? Robs, come on. You already ordered the damn thing.”
“Yeah, but -” She sighed. “But now it’s, like, real.”
“Do you want me to read yours for you?” he asked. She shook her head. 
“No, I think I’m just going to keep it unread for now,” she decided. Steve shrugged.
“Okay, if that’s what you want.” Robin scooted herself over on the couch so she could look at Steve’s phone screen. 
“Wait, they even have crushes on there?” she asked, her eyes wide. “Jeez, Harrington. That’s quite the list.” Steve smirked, realizing it very much did give him an ego boost. He continued scrolling to see even more categories.
Number of people Steve Harrington has had a crush on: 63.
Jesus, Steve thought to himself. That’s kind of embarrassing. In his defense, some of them were celebrities. He continued reading.
Number of people Steve Harrington has been in love with: 3.
Steve didn’t even have to read the list to know who was on it. He quickly clicked his phone off before Robin could see.
“Hey!” she said. “What was that for? It’s not like there are any secrets between us.”
“No, I just - I’ll read it later,” Steve said. 
Robin would usually be right. She was almost completely right. It’s just that Steve had one secret. And it wasn’t even really a secret, it was just something he kept to himself, because it didn’t really matter. 
Nancy Wheeler
Robin Buckley
Eddie Munson
He had barely admitted it to himself, honestly. It’s not like anything would happen. Him and Eddie were best friends, and if something was going to happen between them, it would have already happened. Now, they were too close, and living together. It was different. It didn’t matter. Besides, Robin was on his list, and he wasn’t running off to date her.
Steve put his phone away and didn’t check the list again for a couple days. 
-
“So, how’s the list?” Eddie asked one morning as he made a pot of coffee. “You haven’t said anything about it.” Steve shrugged.
“It’s like a million pages long,” Robin chimed in. Eddie clicked his tongue against his teeth.
“That’s not surprising,” he said. “It’s a shame Harrington isn’t much of a reader. It might take him years to get through.” Steve glared at Eddie, who grinned in response.
“Are you ever going to stop poking fun at me about that?” he wondered. 
“Aaaaabsolutely not,” Eddie replied. “Steve, The Hobbit is 310 pages. 310. Even one page a day you would have been done in a year, and you’re still not done.”
“Okay, listen,” Steve responded defensively. “It’s not my kind of book, alright?”
“He likes the ones with the pictures,” Robin teased. Eddie laughed and high-fived her. 
“Wooow, okay,” Steve replied. “I see how it is. I’m just gonna grab my cereal and go, then.”
“Nooo, don’t leave on our behalf,” Eddie said.
“We’re soorrrryyyyyy,” Robin added. Steve chuckled and shook his head. 
“Whatever,” he resigned. “I haven’t read the damn list. Not all of it, anyway.” Robin’s ears perked up.
“But you’ve read some of it, right?” she asked. “Spill!”
“Just the first ten names or so,” Steve said. He had gotten a glimpse when he skimmed over it the first time. “I think it’s in chronological order.”
“Anyone surprising?” Eddie wondered. Steve shook his head. 
“No,” he said. “Although it did confirm my suspicion that Katie Crystal was into me, after all.”
“I’m thinking maybe I should read mine,” Robin said quietly.
“Yeah, well duh,” Eddie replied. “You paid for it.”
“It’s just - it’s not a big deal, right?” Steve looked at Eddie to survey his reaction. Eddie just shrugged. “It’s like you said, Eds. We don’t even know if it’s accurate.”
Steve didn’t really know if all of it was accurate, but some of it sure as shit was.
“Exactly,” Eddie agreed. “So, Steve, there’s a chance that Katie Crystal actually hated your guts. Who’s to say?”
Steve rolled his eyes. Another few days passed. 
Robin flip-flopped between whether or not she wanted to read her list every few hours or so. Steve and Eddie placed their bets on how long it would take her to crack. 
Meanwhile, Steve counted his lucky stars that Eddie decided not to buy his list. It was clear that they were bros and nothing more, so Eddie finding out would have made everything incredibly weird.
This was for the best.
-
Things carried on as they usually did, until one day Steve was so bored, he decided to revisit the godforsaken document. Plus, he’d been on a few dates that ended in disaster, and reading about the hundreds of people that were into him was bound to put him in good spirits.
He had no idea just how right he was.
The names were all relatively normal. Steve tended to know when girls had a thing for him, especially back in high school. There were some names he didn’t recognize, which meant that there were total strangers crushing on him. He wondered how that was even possible. Like, at that point, they were just basing it on looks and vibes alone. 
Eh. Steve had crushes on people in the past over less. He kept reading.
He made his way down the list until he reached Eddie’s name. He read it again and again to make sure he was seeing it right. 
Eddie had said repeatedly that this thing could be total bullshit, though. Steve had to take it all with a grain of salt. Besides, crushes meant nothing. Hell, Steve was pretty sure Eddie had mentioned once that he thought Steve was hot when they first became friends. 
Steve made his way to the list of people who’d loved him. None of the names mattered except one. 
Eddie Munson. 
“Oh, shit,” Steve muttered. “Oh, shit!” He jumped up out of bed and paced the floor. He had no idea what to do with this information.
It could be bullshit. It could be nothing. 
Or maybe, Eddie had kept saying it was bullshit because he knew what Steve would find. 
“OH MY GOD.”
Robin came bursting into Steve’s room a few moments later. 
“What? What’s going on?” she said. She looked to see his phone on the floor and his hands in his hair. “Oh my god, you read it! What was it? What’s got you all freaked out?”
“I gotta - uhh - I gotta -” He didn’t know how to finish that sentence with Robin in the room. He had to find Eddie - that’s what he had to do. But his head was spinning too much to do so. 
“That’s it. I’m gonna read mine right now,” Robin decided. She swiftly left to go back to her room while Steve continued to pace. 
“Holy shit,” he said to himself. He thought about it for a few minutes, scrawled something on a piece of paper, and then walked down the hall to Eddie’s room.
Eddie opened the door a few inches, still wearing his sweatpants. He hadn’t left his room yet that day, but his guitar was lying on his bed, which meant he’d been practicing. 
“What’s up?” Eddie asked. 
“I finished the list,” Steve replied. Eddie’s jaw clenched just enough for Steve to notice, and then he shrugged. 
“And?” Steve continued to look at Eddie until he broke his composure. He sighed, then opened his door wider. “Come in,” he said. 
Steve had been in Eddie’s bedroom a million times. They’d watched movies in there and stayed up all night talking and smoked together and dear sweet lord I am so dumb for never noticing.
“Is it bullshit?” Steve asked. Eddie started spinning the ring on his middle finger anxiously, refusing to make eye contact.
“Uhh, is what bullshit?” Eddie replied. Steve put his hands on his hips and cocked his head. 
“Come on, you know what I’m talking about,” he said. “I just - is it bullshit? Tell me the truth.”
Eddie stared at him for a few long moments before gently shaking his head. 
“It’s not bullshit.”
Steve’s hands fell back to his sides, and he felt himself get lightheaded. 
“It’s -” he began, struggling to find the words. He cleared his throat. “Wow, I uh -”
“It doesn’t matter, though,” Eddie interjected. “Just so you know. I like what we have. We’re, ya know, we’re friends. Roommates.”
“Do you still -?” Steve started to ask. He noticed Eddie’s eyes flooded with fear, a sight he rarely saw. “I mean, do you still?”
“Steve, I -” Eddie began, his voice tired. “I really, uh. I don’t know what to say.” 
Steve dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out the piece of paper he’d ripped from his notebook. He held it out for Eddie to take, and when Eddie didn’t reach for it, Steve stepped closer and stuffed the page right into Eddie’s hand. 
“Read it,” Steve encouraged.
“What is it?”
“It’s your list.” Eddie’s faced scrunched with confusion. “Yeah, I made it myself.” 
“I told you, I don’t wanna know,” he said, trying to give the paper back to Steve.
“Trust me, you do.”
Eddie sighed, then unfolded the paper and read it. 
People who are in love with Eddie Munson:
-Me
-(Steve Harrington)
Steve waited and watched Eddie’s eyes travel up and down the page, similar to the way Steve’s had when he read Eddie’s name on his own list. Finally, Eddie looked up. 
“Really?” he asked, his voice soft. Steve smiled and nodded. 
“Really.”
In that moment, they both knew this changed everything, and yet it changed nothing at all. They’d just skipped a bunch of steps of dating - blown past the getting-to-know-you stage straight into living together and doing all the domestic shit. 
Eddie and Steve each stepped toward the other until their hands met. 
“OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!”
Robin’s voice pierced through their intimate moment and completely obliterated it. The boys glanced at each other in confusion and then ran out to see what Robin was yelling about. 
She was already out the front door by the time they got to the kitchen. If this were a cartoon, she would have left behind a cloud of smoke. 
“What do you think that’s about?” Steve asked. Eddie felt his phone buzz and checked it to find Robin had texted a screenshot to the household group chat. He smirked.
“Vicki’s on her list,” Eddie said. Steve chuckled, happy that everyone managed to find their happy ending. 
“You know what that means?” Steve asked. 
“That you owe me 20 bucks?” Eddie teased.
“Well, that," Steve replied. "But is also means we’re alone in the apartment for a while." Eddie grinned and took Steve by the hand. 
“I like the way you think.”
They ran to Steve’s room together, and if the confession of love hadn’t already changed everything, sleeping together certainly did.
It was the good kind of change, though. The kind that moved mountains and cleared all the clouds from the sky. 
At last, the idiots were together. All it took was years of denial and one payment of $44.49.
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misshoneyimhome · 10 days
Note
I am really feeling a whole situation with like Joseph Woll where the reader is like his friend and is trying to get his attention with a new outfit. Maybe it’s a bit hot and heavy and I’m definitely feeling it being set to “dress” by taylor swift….
Oh, absolutely, bb! 🤍 Friends to lovers with Woller - yes, please 😉 This also goes out to the anon who asked for soft smut with this cutie!
Joe's such a Prince Charming, and I'm def here for it! I hope I've managed to convey your vision, with just a hint of heartache and a whole lot of romance, spiced up with a touch of smut 🤭 Please, enjoy 💓
Warnings; 18+ smut; f masturbating, fingering, unprotected sex (p in v); 🤍
Word count; 4.4K
・✶ 。゚
Dress - “I don’t want you like a best friend” I Joseph Woll 🖋️🌺⚡️
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"WOAH! What a save from Woll! The game's flipping like crazy, and the Leafs are battling the Islanders! Who'd have thought it, eh? The home team was cruising with a 4-0 lead halfway through the second period!"
You found yourself holding your breath, listening to the commentators bellowing on the telly. The Leafs had been trailing for most of the game, but out of nowhere, the tables had turned, and now they were tied 4-4 going into overtime.
It was another Thursday night, glued to the TV for the Leafs' away game, and another night spent cheering on your best friend Joseph Woll as he pulled off incredible saves. And to everyone’s surprise, the game ended 4-5, all thanks to his amazing comeback. 
-
No one could’ve prepared you.
When you first met Joseph Woll, you never expected the whirlwind that would follow. Not only was he a goaltender for the Toronto Maple Leafs, but he was also the kindest, most charming, and good-looking guy you'd ever met. His smile could effortlessly light up a room and his personality had you smitten right from the start. And life just wasn't the same after that.
Because Joe seemed miles out of your league. Despite the laughs and friendly banter, he never showed any romantic interest beyond friendship. So, you instead accepted your role and stood by him as his best friend.
Truth be told, navigating your feelings wasn't easy. Ever since you became friends through mutual connections, you'd been riding waves of highs and lows. You were nothing but an ordinary person, getting on with life after finishing your studies, figuring out this whole adulting thing. And he was a pro athlete, admired by many, especially the ladies.
However, his last relationship, which nearly turned serious, had ended painfully, so you remained the steadfast friend, always there to listen and support him as he concentrated on his career and avoided getting emotionally entangled.
Little did he know, his heartache only served to deepen your own feelings for him. Now that he was single, a spark of hope ignited within you, despite knowing it was ill-timed while he was still healing.
Despite the ache in your heart, you continued to be his rock, offering your shoulder whenever he needed it, whether it was about hockey or his personal struggles.
-
Watching Joseph from the comfort of your sofa in your small studio apartment, a glass of red wine in hand, was a balm for your soul. His infectious smile as the final horn sounded, and his teammates surrounded him with pats on the head and hugs for his stellar performance, warmed your heart deeply. Yet, it also stirred something more intimate within you.
You almost felt a pang of guilt as you watched the post-game interview on your phone from your bed, your hand gradually finding its way under the duvet to your lacy underwear, gently exploring your sensitive spot.
Allowing the video to loop, you listened to his voice as you increased the intensity, edging yourself closer to pleasure. 
Part of you wished to stop, to redirect your thoughts away from him as you indulged in self-pleasure. However, even after switching off the interview, his image lingered in your mind, haunting your thoughts as you closed your eyes.
You pictured his long, dexterous fingers teasing your most sensitive areas, his hands exploring and stimulating you with care and desire. Imagining how he would make love to you, with tender motions and passionate kisses, filled your mind with longing.
But it was only you, your own touch, yet with thoughts of him filling your mind, you reached the peak of pleasure, his name slipping from your lips as you released a sigh of satisfaction.
You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you. Only the thought that you were the only one privy to this intimate moment provided some comfort, but it didn't fully alleviate the feeling. As you gradually opened your eyes and returned to the reality of your own apartment, a soft "shit" escaped your lips, acknowledging the awkwardness of the situation.
The boys were returning from their short road trip with a renewed vigour, just in time for the annual ‘A Night with Blue & White’ gala. A night that promised to be a dazzling affair, with the venue adorned in the team's colours, heartfelt speeches about community outreach and opportunities for children filling the air, and the Toronto Maple Leafs players dressed to the nines in their finest suits.
And to your great surprise, Joseph had asked you to be his date for the night just before they went on the road. At first, you couldn't quite believe it. He wanted you to accompany him alongside his teammates and friends for the evening, to which you naturally, eagerly accepted, the words almost tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them. You had to apologise for your overzealous response, but Joe, always so sweet, simply chuckled and flashed you his charming smile.
"Don’t worry, it's just as friends, so you don’t have to be nervous, y/n," he reassured you.
As if that was supposed to ease your mind? If anything, it only made the sting sharper. Yet, with your knack for putting on a brave face, you brushed it off with a friendly smile.
"Well, I can’t help it, Joe… now I have to find a dress! I mean, I don’t have anything to wear for a gala!"
There was a moment of shared laughter as you enjoyed a quick dinner together, catching up on a few episodes of your favourite TV show.
"Oh, no need to panic! Y/n, you'll look beautiful in anything!" 
Joseph's words echoed in your mind for days, accompanied by his laughter and broad grin. Did he truly mean that you'd look good in anything? Even beautiful?
You tried to push the thought aside. You knew you had to let go of the hope for his romantic affection, as he consistently reinforced that you were just his friend.
However, you couldn't resist one last attempt. Seizing the chance to dress to impress, you searched for the perfect outfit to catch Joe's eye. And if this didn't work, you resolved to find a way to move on from your unrequited feelings.
So, as the event was only a day away, you settled on what you deemed the perfect combination of elegance and allure: a long, silky black dress, with a chic neckline and a hint of skin. It struck the balance between sophistication and allure, hoping to capture Joseph's attention, as you promised yourself to go all out, bring your best self – and if Joe still saw you as just a friend, at least you could say you gave it your all. Well, except for directly telling him how you felt; but you weren't quite that bold.
Yet as the night approached, you felt nothing but confident and radiant, putting the finishing touches on your hair and makeup. Tonight, you hoped to gain clarity on your deep feelings, whether for better or worse, and you were prepared to face whatever came your way.
You allowed yourself a few minutes to pep-talk yourself and make a few power poses in the mirror, however, interrupting your thoughts, a knock sounded at your door. Joseph, as expected, had come to pick you up, and when you met him at the doorway, a smile automatically spread across your face.
"Wow, love the look, Mr. Caveman," you chuckled lightly, noticing how he'd let his dark beard grow out.
"Yeah, well, all the boys were doing it, so I thought I'd give it a shot as well," Joe laughed, running his hand over the scruff.
As always, he looked impeccably handsome in his dark grey checkered suit, his hair perfectly styled with just the right touch of ruggedness from the beard. Which only made it harder to accept the possibility that he didn't share your feelings.
"Well, it suits you," you merely replied, flashing him a sweet smile.
There was a moment of silence as you both exchanged smiles, until Joe shook his head, his eyes widening slightly as he took in your outfit.
"Oh, and wow, you look…" he struggled to find the words to describe your appearance. "Wow…"
It was the exact reaction you'd hoped for.
"Well, I'll take that as a compliment," you chuckled in response.
"It... it definitely is."
And after a few more moments of sharing admiring glances, Joe, ever the gentleman, offered you his arm as you walked to his car, ready to embark on the evening ahead.
To describe the venue as breathtakingly beautiful would be an understatement, as the blue and white lights illuminated the Fairmont Royal York Hotel, casting an elegant glow and creating a stunning atmosphere.
Everything about the night seemed perfect, except for the reaction you longed for from Joseph. Despite his proximity in the crowded room, he felt simultaneously near yet distant, leaving you yearning for more. You wanted him to see you, to truly see you.
And as the evening slowly wore on, you felt your hands tremble and your heart race as you watched him softly play tunes on the piano in the dim light. Thankfully, it seemed no one else noticed the depth of your connection to the goalie, but as everyone stood in awe of his talent, you reached your breaking point.
You'd held back for so long, the patience and desperate longing eating away at you. So, taking a large sip of the expensive champagne, you excused yourself to catch some fresh air. Perhaps you weren't quite ready to confront your own emotions, to face the truth of whether Joe felt the same for you.
So, you resolved to let it go. That was, until Joseph caught up with you just outside in the yard.
"Hey, y/n, are you okay?" he gently took hold of your hand, causing you to turn halfway to meet his gaze. But you couldn't muster the cheerful smile you usually wore. You had surrendered to defeat, allowing tears to well in your eyes and trickle down your cheek as you looked up at the tall man before you. "Oh damn, what's wrong?"
Under the starlit night sky, your gaze locked with Joe's, his hand resting gently on your arm. Despite the cold January air causing a light shiver, your mind was too preoccupied to notice. And with a final mental push, you mustered the courage to speak your truth.
"I don't want you like a best friend, Joe..."
Joseph seemed taken aback, his concerned expression shifting to one of stunned surprise. "What?"
"I can't keep doing this..." your voice trembled, struggling to hold back tears. Instead, you offered him a smile, though your eyes betrayed nothing but defeat. "I can't pretend to be just your best friend when... when I'm in love with you."
The words hung in the air, your heart laid bare and open, as your deepest secret was exposed. Now, you would discover whether it would all come crashing down or if there was still hope.
But Joseph remained silent, his deep brown eyes reflecting the shimmering lights of the evening.
Meanwhile, tears welled in your eyes. With each passing moment, the ache in your heart intensified, as if a knife were being twisted, digging deeper and deeper.
The pain was unbearable.
You couldn't fathom what was going through Joseph's mind. And just as you were on the brink of giving up all hope, he finally broke the silence.
"Y/n, I..."
"It's okay," you interjected quickly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I understand..."
Just like that, the knife was pulled out, leaving your heart shattered into a million pieces.
"No, you don't understand..." Joseph's words cut through the air, his hands reaching out for yours, holding them tightly as his eyes bore into yours. "Y/n... I'm in love with you too."
The words hit you like a ton of bricks. You had already resigned yourself to your fate, but Joseph suddenly turned everything on its head.
"What?" you gasped, barely able to comprehend what he was saying.
"Yeah, I... I think I've been in love with you for... God knows how long," he admitted with a mixture of laughter and sigh, running his fingers through his hair as if he were just realising the depth of his feelings.
"Wait... You're in love with me?” 
You were utterly stunned; your head spinning as you tried to process what Joseph was confessing to you.
"Well, yeah! I was just worried you didn't feel the same... Every time I tried to flirt with you, you just... laughed it off and carried on with a joke or something," he admitted. "And... truthfully, I was afraid you wouldn’t want, you know, this kind of life, one with me and my career."
It was all too much to take in. You felt like your heart was bleeding, yet Joseph was slowly piecing it back together with his own admission of feelings. And suddenly, a rush of joy swept over you, as if all wounds had been healed, and you almost couldn't resist throwing yourself into his arms.
Closing the distance between you, you reached up to wrap your hand around the back of his neck, leaning in to connect your lips with his. You felt a hint of embarrassment at how eager you must have seemed, but in that moment, you didn't care. Finally, you were free, and Joseph shared the same desire as you.
Breaking apart from the kiss, you couldn't help but chuckle, the sound mingling with Joseph's laughter. "Shit, I'm so sorry... I just... I've wanted to do that for so long," you confessed, briefly looking down.
But Joseph's hand under your chin gently lifted your head, allowing your eyes to meet his once again.
"Don't worry... so have I," he murmured before leaning in to place another kiss on your lips, this time with more depth, his hand tangling in your hair as yours rested on his chest.
Both of you were lost in the moment, oblivious to the biting cold that surrounded you. And as you slowly pulled apart once more, your reverie was interrupted by cheers from some of the players who had come to find you.
"GO JOE!"
"Woohooo Woller!"
"Now you can finally stop whining about her!"
You and Joe turned to face the teammates, both of you unable to suppress your laughter.
"Oh, this is embarrassing..." Joe chuckled, a blush rising on his already pink cheeks from the chilly weather.
"Well, at least you haven't been crying..." you laughed along, still feeling the remnants of tears on your cheeks.
"Hmm, you're right about that, but then it's lucky that you're a lot more beautiful than me when you cry," Joe said with a sweet smile, wrapping an arm around your waist.
"Yeah, that's probably a good thing." Another tender moment lingered between you as the other players began making their way back inside, and suddenly your body shivered uncontrollably. "Maybe we should head inside..." you suggested, giving Joe a pleading look, to which he nodded in agreement.
And true to his gentlemanly nature, Joe first removed his blazer and draped it around your shoulders, his arm still around you as he guided you indoors.
"How about we get out of here?" he softly suggested, and you couldn't agree more. The event was winding down anyway, and right now all you wanted was to be alone with your newfound love.
-
There were no words that could adequately capture the overwhelming joy coursing through your body, the sparkling endorphins igniting every nerve as Joe drove you home and walked you to the door.
There was so much you wanted to express, so many feelings you longed to articulate. Yet, in that moment, as he leaned in and your lips met in another heartfelt kiss, words became unnecessary.
Well, perhaps except for, "Want to come inside?"
Your voice was low and soft, cautious not to betray your eagerness. But you knew your desire for Joe was shining like the brightest star on a cloudless night. And thankfully, he shared the same longing.
The air in your small apartment felt heavy and charged as you both entered. Skipping the formalities, you simply took his hand and led him towards the bed. The sensual tension hanging thick in the air, as Joseph's eyes were locked onto yours, his breaths heavy with anticipation.
He could feel the rush of blood to his member as his mind raced with thoughts of finally making love to you. And as you turned around, your back to him, pulling your hair to one side, he understood the unspoken invitation.
"Take it off?" you whispered softly, and without hesitation, he let his long fingers find the fabric wrapped around your neck, gently untying it to reveal your naked breasts. Then slowly moving further down, he delicately unzipped the small zipper holding the dress to your curvy figure, letting it fall to the floor around your heels.
Left in nothing but a delicate pair of knickers, you turned around slowly, letting him admire your nude figure.
Joe had to swallow hard as he looked at you, his eyes tracing every curve before meeting yours again. "You're stunning," he murmured softly, before tangling his hands in your hair and drawing you into a passionate kiss.
You easily melted into his embrace, your tongues moving sensually as you shared the warmth of your mouths. Meanwhile, your hand automatically sought him out in the dim light, starting to loosen his tie. And Joseph felt the eagerness and desire rising within him, deftly assisting you in removing his blazer and tie.
With each passing moment, the air grew hotter, your lips seeking each other in between deep breaths, as Joe guided you backwards until the backs of your knees met the mattress. With gentle motions, he encouraged you to lie down, lifting your legs into the air, before he tenderly removed one of your heels, placing a soft kiss on your ankle, then repeating the gesture on the other foot.
You couldn't help but smile. Joe's touch felt amazing, and you hadn't even fully experienced it yet.
Standing there, your legs on either side of him, the tall goaltender admired the sight of your nearly naked body before him. It was everything he had fantasised about for months; your skin shimmering in the moonlight, adorned with tiny droplets of sweat from the chemistry between you.
And Joe felt the same warmth coursing through him. So, while maintaining eye contact, he slowly undressed in front of you.
You had to bite your lip, propping yourself up on your elbows as you admired his face and physique. And what particularly caught your eye was the growing hardness in his boxers, a clear sign of his desire for you. Merely seeing it made your pulse quicken, your cunt pulsating even without his touch.
Your heart pounded in your chest again, but this time, it wasn't from anxiety or fear of heartbreak. No, this time, it was your intense longing for Joseph about to be fulfilled. And as he gently let his fingers find the waistband of your knickers, effortlessly pulling them off, before kneeling on the mattress, prompting you to shift so he could settle between your legs, you found yourself craving more.
It was a moment both of you had been anticipating, yearning for so long.
Yet Joseph took his time. Although neither of you were novices in intimacy, he wanted to ensure it was nothing short of incredible for you. So, as you lay there, your legs slightly bent and spread open for him, he let his fingers delicately explore your sensitive heat, eliciting a soft gasp from you.
Reclining on your back once more, your hands resting on either side of your head, your body surrendered to his deliberate touch, your mind focusing on your breathing. However, it was futile as he gently pressed a finger against your entrance before slowly sliding it inside.
His movements were unhurried and cautious, causing you to softly plead for more. And your wish was his command. Adding a second finger, Joe tenderly stimulated your inner walls, feeling the wetness of your cunt as he savoured the soft sounds of your pleasure. He felt his member almost throbbing with anticipation as he let his fingers glide in and out of your centre, watching your expressions of pure pleasure, while he couldn't help the small patch of pre-cum forming on his boxers.
"Mmm, yes Joe…" you softly moaned as his fingers worked their magic, sending waves of pleasure through you, occasionally causing your eyes to roll back in ecstasy.
The atmosphere grew hotter and heavier, your moans growing louder with each passing moment, filling the room. But you couldn't contain yourself. You'd been dreaming of Joe's touch for so long, and now that it was finally happening, it surpassed all your expectations.
His fingers alone were steadily bringing you closer to the brink of orgasm, yet you yearned for more; to feel Joseph inside you, filling you completely and holding you close.
"Joe," you breathed out softly. "Please, I need you inside me…"
And you didn't have to ask him twice. His pulsing cock was already eager to be enveloped by your tight walls. So, with careful movements, Joe withdrew his fingers, leaving you with a sense of anticipation. Yet, you knew what was about to happen would feel even better.
Stepping back onto the floor, Joseph kept his eyes on you as he gently lowered his boxers, revealing his proudly erect length. You almost wanted to call it beautiful, if such a term could be applied to a penis. Your mouth almost watered as he returned to the mattress, positioning himself between your legs, his larger frame hovering over your smaller one, before descending into another deep kiss.
Your hands quickly moved to grasp his brown locks as you felt the tip of his manhood teasing your entrance. And as you sensed the pressure of his length, you instinctively pressed your body against his, urging him to penetrate you.
"Oh yes…" you moaned, breaking the kiss as Joe stretched your core, filling you completely as your tight muscles embraced his member.
"Damn, y/n/n… you feel incredible," he muttered softly upon reaching the depths of your walls.
It was an overwhelmingly pleasurable sensation, but what truly sent your mind spinning was when he began to withdraw, only to thrust back in and establish a steady rhythm.
Moans grew louder as you shared this intense intimacy, the heat radiating from your bodies with each thrust and movement. Your hands couldn't stay still, yet eventually settling on his broad shoulders, while your legs instinctively wrapped around his lower back. The lift from your hips provided him with the space he needed, and as the intensity increased, so did his actions.
"Mmm, yes…" Joe moaned as he picked up the pace, his fingers gripping the sheets beneath you as he felt the waves of pleasure building within him.
"Shi- Joe, you feel… oh, yes…" You couldn't even manage a coherent sentence in the heat of the moment.
It surpassed all your wildest dreams. The perfect combination of desire and passion intertwined with deep, romantic feelings hung in the air. And as Joe maintained his steady rhythm, the sound of your bodies colliding with each thrust, you felt yourself edging closer to climax.
And Joe could sense it too, feeling your walls gently tightening around his shaft, bringing him closer to the edge as well. "Oh… fu-" he hummed between moans. You felt absolutely wonderful, and he worried he might reach his climax too soon.
So, observing you close your eyes, he slid an arm down between your bodies, supporting himself on the other arm as his hand found your clit. And as he could sense your nails lightly digging into his skin, he knew you were close. Then slowly circling your bud of nerves with his skilled fingers, he watched as your breaths became erratic and desperate, your moans disjointed, and your back arching, causing your head to fall back onto the pillow.
"Oh yes! Joe, yes, I'm coming…" you cried out, as he continued to stimulate your clit.
"Yes, come for me…" he whispered along with your moans. And within seconds, you let out a loud cry, holding your breath for a moment as you reached climax.
It was intense few seconds as time seemed to stand still, your mind soaring while Joe made love to you through the rush.
And the sight of you reaching climax almost pushed Joe over the edge, causing him to thrust harder and faster, driving himself towards his own release. And it didn't take long before his motions became desperate, his need for release matching the intensity while your muscles clenched around him.
So, with a final loud groan and a few deep breaths, Joe allowed himself to let go, releasing as he spilled into your depths.
It was intensely passionate, both of you sharing loud moans, surrounded by sweat and the heat of your bodies as you gradually calmed yourselves, slowly returning from your euphoric states. You didn't even realise how long the two of you remained still in that position, your core still pulsating around his shaft as Joe caught his breath and regained his strength, eventually lifting his head to place a soft kiss on your lips.
Satisfied smiles graced your faces as you shared light chuckles, and Joe gently withdrew his cock from within you, coming to rest beside you and wrapping an arm under your head, pulling you close for a cuddle.
"That was…" he breathed out softly.
Turning your body towards his, you placed a hand on his chest and looked up at him. "Perfection?"
Joe chuckled again at your sweet word, his other arm resting behind his head as he gazed down at you. "Perfection, indeed."
It was the perfect conclusion to a perfect night, yet also the beginning of something deeper and more profound.
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auraticere · 10 months
Text
The Scrapbook of You and I | Kate Bishop x Reader
Pairing: Kate Bishop x Reader
Theme: Childhood friends to lovers.
Summary: A story of Y/N and Kate growing up together and eventually falling for each other.
Warnings: Mentions of Character Death, Fluff, some Sensual Touching, Comfort, Mutual Pining, and some Swearing
Word Count: 3.5k
A/N: I really like writing Kate, but I’ve held off on writing her a solo story because she’s not popular like Wanda and Natasha, which is a bit frustrating, I won’t lie; regardless, I hope you enjoy this story! I was really passionate about this one!
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You have been best friends since you were babies. So many fond memories over so many years collected in the scrapbooks your parents and Kate’s parents created for you both. From when you were only a couple of months old when you were in your crib with a stuffed fox lying right next to you as if it were protecting you from the darkness. How about the time you and Kate first met? You had become a master at crawling, and your small baby brain wanted to explore the living room since everything was bright and colorful; you were investigating the plastic rabbit toy that had been left out of the toy box when you encountered Kate sitting down. Kate saw you approaching and thought the best course of action was to slap you the moment you approached. She walloped you…well, as hard as a baby could anyway, and you bawled your eyes out, which Kate also did in turn. Your parents loved teasing you and Kate about that day.
After that day, you and Kate were always around one another, almost like sisters, but not quite. You and she are tightly knit - like you two always said as kids: “Birds of a feather flock together.” Kate was an only child and was often lonely when her parents were out hosting events, so your parents offered to take Kate and have you two have some grand sleepover that involved eating so much sugar you would get sick. There was hardly a time when you weren’t together; you were inseparable from her - stuck together like glue, as your parents would say. They have not seen such close companionship in quite some time; no matter how long you two were together, you would never tire of her company.
When you were six years old, you attended Kate’s birthday party and, of course, stuck by Kate’s side, bouncing in the bounce house, playing all the silly birthday games, eating cake, and most of all, enjoying your best friend’s company, talking about the latest episode of Pokemon amongst other stuff all afternoon until nightfall. You thoroughly remember a few minutes before you left; Kate pulled you up, gave you the biggest bear hug she could muster, and quickly pecked your cheek before giggling like a fool. When asked what that was for, Kate shrugged, “I dunno!” You wanted to ask her more, but your mom had to leave; she had an early shift the next day, and it was getting late.
When Kate was ten years old, things took a turn for the worse for the Bishop family: the Chitauri attacked New York City. It was truly awful; many people lost their lives that day; if it weren’t for the intervention of the newly-formed Avengers, many more innocent lives would have perished. Among those who were murdered by the savage Chitauri was Kate’s father, Derek. During the chaos, however, she spotted a man with a bow and arrow killing these armor-clad aliens and was in awe. To think such a simple, unsuperpowered man could fend for himself with such…an ancient form of weaponry. After her father’s funeral, she asked her mom to buy her a bow and arrow so that she could take after the Avenger known as Hawkeye.
You were with her every step of the way. You stuck by Kate’s side at the funeral and comforted her all you could. When she pulled you to the side with the most serious look replacing her sad one.
“Y/N,” she said, with determination, “Would you fight alongside me?”
Puzzled at her weird question, you ask, “Whataya mean, Katie?”
Kate pauses to think of the right words, “I really don’t wanna sit here and let everyone get hurt again. Those things took my dad away from me, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I wanna help people like that guy with the bow; he was so cool!” Her blue eyes sparkled with adoration.
“Katie, you want to be like Hawkeye? It’s dangerous!” you grabbed her shoulders, then voiced your concerns, “I don’t want to lose you.”
“I know, Y/N. But I want to help people; I’m tired of being a weak kid. I want to kick the bad guy’s butt but don’t want to leave you behind.”
The puzzle pieces quickly fell into place; she asked you to join her in becoming a superhero - to defend the helpless, “Are you sure you want me to join, Katie?”
“Yes. You could be my sidekick!” Kate beamed.
“Okay.” Kate looks at you with raised eyebrows and a bright white smile, “I’ll do it.” the commitment was a hard pill to swallow, but you thought it would be worth it. Protecting the innocent with your bestest friend in the whole wide world.
“Birds of a feather?” Kate started
“Flock together.” You finished
That day, Kate begged her mom to enroll in archery and martial arts - you did the same with your parents, who reluctantly agreed but only because Kate would be there. Hawkeye was Kate’s biggest inspiration; if asked who her favorite Avenger was, she would instantly reply, ‘Hawkeye!’ Your favorite was Black Widow, mostly because she was cute. Still, you wanted to fight like she did, with all her fancy gadgets that fit her fighting style. Upon realizing you liked the Black Widow mainly because of looks alone, you began questioning yourself plenty through your teens. Little did you know, Kate was too.
As time progressed, your parents and Kate’s kept making a scrapbook of all the precious memories you and Kate made all ten years of living. All your birthday parties, all the times you went to the park and played on the playground, and eventually your martial arts and Kate’s archery and martial arts were kept in a timeless, patchworked book of memories. One day, you and Kate would look at all the photos and laugh and cry.
When you were thirteen years old, you obtained the green belt, while Kate received the blue belt. Kate quickly became the top of her archery class and now never misses her target; unless you were around, then she might miss the bullseye, yet she wasn’t sure why. Why did your presence cause her to falter only slightly? Every time you came to watch, she had this urge to do even better than she was already performing just to impress you, but for what reason?
“You did so damn good, Kate!” You congratulated your bestie on her display of hard work.
Kate grinned, “Thanks, Y/N!” The archer pulled you in for her signature bear hug for a few seconds longer than usual.
You had a light red blush that had crept on you like a thief in the night, “I, I am impressed with how strong you’re becoming!” you laughed, “You could beat Hawkeye with all your skills.”
“Yeah,” Kate turned away to hide her own blush, “I want to be better than he is!”
“You will be, Katie. We’ll be the best crime-fighting duo ever!”
“I hope so!” Kate smiled and laughed. You could not get enough of her laugh or her smile; it made you happy.
Kate was fifteen when she won the state championship for archery and obtained the brown belt. She swears she could kick the Black Widow’s ass in five seconds flat. You both knew that was incorrect. However, the archer could pin you down a few times only because you were her equal in terms of fighting - a friendly rivalry, if you would. Your BFF loved that about you, to have someone always challenging her; never once did she ever have an advantage over you, or you ever have one over her.
Yet, you’d let her win sometimes just to see her smile, though you could never admit that to her face.
At this point in her fifteen years of living, Kate was figuring herself out and what she wanted besides taking after her hero. The brunette found herself not attracted to boys - it’s not she thought they were gross and hormonal and weird and, well, men, but women were much prettier. She acknowledged that she liked women and was okay with being seen with one, unafraid of judgment. Conversely, you were confused about everything about yourself; your mind constantly focused on many things simultaneously. Moreso on training for a tournament and schoolwork and hardly on yourself.
A while after the tournament and after the school year ended, you and Kate mutually agreed to take a break from everything and enjoy the three months of summer.
It was worth it.
It took the entire month of May for you to realize why you felt certain things around Kate. You reminisced about how you felt every time Kate embraced you, happy and warm the like the morning sun. Or about the times you would crack the dumbest joke just to hear her infectious laugh ring in your ears like a pleasant melody. There’s no way she would return your romantic feelings, right?
She does. You didn’t know because she was scared you would reject her for being attracted to women and ruin everything. You were also scared, yet you knew deep down she did; all she needed to do was admit it, or should that time ever come, you would be the one to speak up first.
Now finally sixteen, Kate had finally earned her license, and her mom, of course, bought Kate a car of her own, but the vehicle was insured under Eleanor’s name, so it was not entirely Kate’s car, even though it would be the moment she turned eighteen. Kate brought you to a beach house for a sunny getaway in celebration in the middle of June. 
“What do you wanna do when we get there? Soak up the sun, go swimming, or do you want to eat something before we do anything?”
“Katie. You know I can see right through you; I know you’re starving,” you raised a brow to see Kate bashfully looking out the window.
“Nuh-uh, I could wait…just wanna know what you wanna do first, is all.”
“Uh-huh, we’re getting you some food.”
“Are you sure?” Kate raised her brows, “You don’t gotta-”
“Katie, you’re hungry; what do you want?”
“I honestly don’t know what they stocked the fridge with this time,” Kate admits, “But I know they have the blue and red popsicles stocked back up, so I probably have that for now.”
“Okay, if that’ll make you happy.”
“It does, but you make me happier.”
“Oh?”
“I’m glad you are by my side every single day. I would not trade it for anything.”
“Me either.”
An hour passed, and Kate decided to skip out on the popsicle and instead cook up hamburgers for dinner. When you arrived, she became even hungrier than in the car. After eating and conversing about what was after high school and what superhero life was like before going to the beach.
Your parents asked for photographs of you and Kate having a blast at the beach. You captured some delightful moments of yourself and Kate frolicking in the water, making sandcastles, and a few snapshots of old seashells that have washed up. After a liberating day of fun, Kate set up two beach towels and rested briefly. However, you caught yourself staring at your best friend.
There was something you had to admit to yourself: Kate was beautiful when the sun hit her the right way. You two lay down and basked in the alpenglow. You turned on your side to meet her gaze. Kate copied you, and both stared into one another’s eyes, wordlessly admiring the other. It was worth noting how her sun-kissed skin gleamed under the descending sun’s golden rays. The life-giving star burned hot with envy; Kate’s natural beauty transcended the sun’s radiance, giving her a celestial aura.
Of course, she noticed your lack of words and lingering stare and smirked impishly, “What’s got you in a daze?” a playful observation on her part, mixed with genuine curiosity-you have not stared at her like this before.
Words refused to escape your throat as you were held captive by Kate’s deep blue eyes, “Uhhh, I, I-”
“What? C’mon now, is it me?” Kate scooted closer, now locking eyes with you, “You can tell me anything.”
“You’re fucking gorgeous!” You suddenly said, “Like how can someone be more beautiful than a summer sunset?”
Kate was not expecting those words of admiration to fly out your mouth, “I- I don’t know what to say; thank you!” Her blush was red, “I think you’re more beautiful, though.” She is always a tease, isn’t she?
“Nuh-uh!”
“Yuh-huh!” Kate giggled, “I’d even go as far as to say that you are fucking adorable!”
“Psh, you are literally glowing right now. I am unworthy of looking at you.”
“Nonsense, I want you to look at me.”
You look away, planting a hand over your eyes, “Ahhh! You’re so bright and beautiful; I can’t go blind yet; I’m so young!”
“Can’t turn it off; guess I’m stuck on maximum settings,” the brunette shrugged.
“Nothing much I can do but stare until it gets dark outside,” you teased, testing the waters to see if Kate would reciprocate with her own remark.
“I don’t mind you ogling me as long as you don’t mind me doing the same with you!” Kate scooted ever so closer.
“You think I’m beautiful?” You inquired, curious as to why Kate wanted to drink you in, “I’m not that pretty.”
Kate scoffs in disbelief, “You are the apple of my eye.”
“You really think so?” you asked genuinely, a blush forming on your cheeks.
The tension was becoming thick with you and Kate looking deeply into each other’s eyes and stealing the occasional and shameless glances at the other’s features. It was hard to hide anything now as Kate’s hands began to roam on their own accord – first making their way up your bare thigh, giving it a quick but firm squeeze which caused your breathing to become rapid with want. Kate seemed to enjoy your flustered state.
“Yeah, I do.” Her voice became a husky whisper.
You whispered back, “Kate….”
“Yeah?” Kate purred.
It was all or nothing. This interaction has proved that Kate likes you more than best friends. You have hidden these feelings so deep that all your emotions were bursting at the seams, and you can not hold them back anymore.
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but..." The words stumbled out as anxiety turned into a fierce vortex within your body, unleashing a catastrophic storm of emotions, swirling wildly, "I love you."
Without skipping a beat, Kate answers, “I love you too.”
Those four words instantly soothed you, and warmth roared wild within you. Finally, after so many years of conflicting thoughts, you breathe a sigh of relief. Kate does the same. You can’t help but laugh excitedly. The beautiful brunette chuckles lowly before placing a hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer and connecting your lips with hers. At first, you did not immediately respond to the notion; however, you regained control of yourself, forcing yourself to respond. You kissed her back passionately to make up for the lack of response. Her tongue grazed your bottom lip before gently biting it. 
“Kate.” you moaned.
She does not say anything back. Instead, she moves her hand up and down your thigh, eventually traveling up to your ass and delivering a firm smack before pulling away, much to your disappointment, eliciting a whine from you.
“Can’t get too carried away now,” Kate winked, “C’mon,” Kate tore her eyes off you for a moment to look at the twilight sky, “It’s late; let’s head inside and discuss this before doing anything else, okay, honey?”
You were elated: your first pet name already. This was quite exciting!
“Okay, how ‘bout we cuddle up and watch a movie afterward?”
“That sounds perfect.”
You two have been official for two years. A lot has happened in those two years, all of which have been documented in the scrapbook your parents were about to give you a few weeks after your eighteenth birthday so that it could be officially complete. You and Kate obtained your black belts, you bought your first car, and you and Kate graduated; Kate is already eighteen - she’s two months older than you, and your girlfriend got you a special surprise for your birthday.
Kate walks in through the front door with a bright smile plastering her face, “Happy Birthday, my love!”
It’s a small present, wrapped in red and white striped wrapping paper with a tag saying ‘From Kate To My One and Only.’
You carefully open it to reveal a set of house keys; you look into her eyes gleefully, asking, “Is this?”
“You know that apartment we’ve been looking for? Well,” she drawled.
“Ohmygoodness, KATE!” You bound off the couch and crushed her in a bear hug; you cried happily, “You’re the best!”
“I know, I know,” Kate chuckled, “We’re set to move in next week, which gives us plenty of time to pack our things!”
“I love you so fucking much!”
“Love you too, sweetheart!”
Weeks passed, and finally, the scrapbook that took eighteen years to make was complete. It had everything from when you and Kate were itty bitty babies to the full-grown adults you are now. You and Kate looked through it a few hours after you received it just before bed, and there were so many things to reminisce about.
“Why are we both crying in this picture? Like, why is it here?” Kate asked, scratching her head.
“I remember my mom telling me that I was looking at a toy, and I found you instead. And when I came up to you, you slapped me, and I cried, then you cried with me.”
“That’s strangely adorable.”
You flip over to another page that has both your white belts sewn into the cover, “They kept all our belts!” Yep, your dad collected all your belts from white to black, though the black belts weren’t sewn to a cover but rather tied together around the book, which signified your bond with your girlfriend throughout your life: tightly bound together, never to be broken. On top of the white belt page was a small slip of paper that said in quotations, “Birds of a feather flock together!” 
“Damn,” you rubbed Kate’s thigh, “They really got everything didn’t they?”
Kate laughs at the attention to detail, “Apparently!”
Kate turns the page and immediately spots her first medal for archery, and you see one of your kindergarten drawings of a sunflower with googly eyes. Another part included a drawing Kate made of you and her fighting some sort of monster. Photos littered each page, ranging from hanging out at the park eating lunch, playing in the lake near your house, and pictures of Kate choking you out with her bear hugs. She has always been a hugger.
Onto your teenage years, you noticed an odd trend: Kate being so close to your face and always wrapping an arm around you. Kate sees this too.
“We’re always hugging or touching in these photos.” You point out.
“Yeah, ‘cause I won’t lie….” Kate giggles, “You won’t believe this, but I have always had a crush on you since I was eleven!”
The admission made you laugh profusely, not at Kate but at yourself, because you felt the same way the whole time, “Have we seriously been crushing on each other for almost a decade?”
Kate is overjoyed to hear you have been mirroring her feelings the whole time, “This whole time!”
“Right?”
“I mean…we were baby buddies, now we are girlfriends! We’ve like kissed and stuff…absolutely wild.”
“I’m glad that life has brought us together, Y/N. You’re the only one I’ll ever need.” Kate leans in and passionately kisses you.
“Me too,” you break the kiss, “Now, we’re gonna be superheroes, eventually.”
“Eventually?” Kate raises a brow.
“Well, we are well trained, but starting to fight criminals is quite a big step. And we have no real experience in fighting real people who want to kill us right off the bat. We should start small, you know?”
Kate nods in agreement, “You’re right. Small steps are the best thing for us right now. Let’s take our time, love.”
You seal the promise with a kiss, “I’d love that.”
Kate yawns while stretching her limbs and looks at the time, which reads, 
11:56 pm,’ “Ooh, we should pick this up again sometime soon; it’s getting quite late. I have a meeting tomorrow with my Mom.” Your girlfriend rolled her eyes at the thought.
You put the scrapbook underneath your bed and then kiss your girlfriend, “Another time, then. Goodnight, my love.”
“Birds of a feather?” Kate starts once again.
“Flock together.” You finish your adage before kissing her again and turning off the bedside lamp. You cuddle up to Kate and fall asleep with your head on her chest, just above her heartbeat.
A/N 2: My requests for Kate Bishop are re-opened; make sure to check out the Masterlist above for the rules! :)
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izzielizzie93 · 1 year
Text
High School Sweethearts Part 2-J Burrow
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Part 1 Part 3 Part 4
College! Joe Burrow x Reader
Summary: There's nothing like coming home for the holidays
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: None, some angst and fluff
This one is long & there will definitely be a part 3! Thank you to everyone who liked, shared, and commented on part 1 :)
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I’d be lying if I said moving to Baton Rouge was an easy decision; but I would also be lying if I said it didn’t feel right the moment I stepped into my dorm. I had gone earlier than most; because on top of becoming a Tiger, I had also made the LSU cheer team. 
I ended up waiting a day to respond to Joe’s text, choosing to send an emoji of a Tiger and a thumbs up in lieu of actually having the courage to say anything else. 
I unblocked him on everything and added him back as a friend shortly before graduation. We both knew we were mutuals again; but he never liked my new posts. It was morbid curiosity that had me scouring his Instagram and being pathetic when asking friends if he posted on snap.
I mostly did this late at night when I couldn’t sleep, afraid of my dreams. Sometimes I’d wake up after dreaming that Joe hated that I’d followed him to Ohio State and it would end with him breaking up with me and asking me to transer. Other times we’d be happy together and he’d be telling me he couldn’t wait to marry me after graduation. 
Both dreams felt equally horrible when I woke up in my cold dorm, hundreds of miles away from him. 
Eventually, the dreams subsided as fall term began and life got hectic just as I’d predicted it would. I grew very close with two fellow cheerleaders, Sasha and Emily, and they were great distractions. 
Of course, I’d gotten drunk about a month into school starting and spilled everything to them. I had opened up about some details of my life; but always stopped myself because it felt too personal to share with people I’d only known for a couple of months. 
Luckily, my word vomit didn’t scare them off and they helped me stop with my frantic scrolling of Joe’s pages and they even came over and stayed the night when I felt I was going to have bad dreams. 
In the month leading up to break, I had been dreading going home. I was hoping everyday that LSU would have a bowl game that weekend; but it was scheduled for the week after and we were all cleared to go home for break. 
I’d fallen back into the habit of stalking Joe online and nothing seemed to point toward any new girlfriends; but I still hurt my own feelings each time I clicked on his page.
“So, Y/N are you excited to be going home for Thanksgiving?” Emily asked as she sat on my bed, watching me pack. “Absolutely, I already have friends texting me trying to make plans for every second and I know my mom is going to protest and want to keep me home.” I felt myself smiling at the thought of being with everyone again. 
“What about-” I turned to glare at her before she finished her sentence. “I mean you know he’ll be there. You might see him.” Sasha piped up from her own side of the dorm. While I was happy that Sasha had become my roommate after the summer, there were times where I wish she hadn’t. 
“I know and I plan on being cordial. I’m going to treat him like an acquaintance and avoid him as much as possible.” I shrugged. Sasha and Emily shared a look and I did my best to ignore them before excusing myself to take a long shower, hoping Sasha would be in bed and Emily would be gone when I got back. 
Despite burying myself in schoolwork, the day to leave for Ohio felt like it came too quickly. I was doing my best to stay positive and remind myself that I didn’t need to worry about Joe, I had so many people I wanted to see. 
Once I’d landed and spotted my parents waiting for me, all thoughts of Joe left my mind. Seeing my mom cry wasn’t anything new; but seeing my dad tear up had me crying. 
They peppered me with questions the entire drive home and wanted to know everything about school, cheer, and my friends. I’d kept my mom in the loop, talking to her on the phone every week; but it wasn’t the same as being there. She and my dad had tickets to fly back with me and take a vacation in New Orleans before coming to see LSU play. 
Avoiding Joe was easy for the first few days of the trip; but then I was invited to a Bonfire party out at Oakley’s Ranch. Everyone who was home for the holidays, and those who’d never left, were going to be there and I didn’t want to miss out. 
“Wow, Joe is going to go insane when he sees you.” My friend Sarah gasped when I walked out to her car. “Shut up, this isn’t for him.” I glared, getting in. She rolled her eyes, knowing I was lying through my teeth. I did want Joe to see me and not be able to find a good reason why he ever let me go. 
I had on black jeans that hugged me in all of the right places, a black spaghetti strap crop top with a v neckline, black thigh high boots that I’d stolen from Sasha, and a bright red leather jacket. I’d curled my hair and done a smokey makeup look to match my dark aesthetic and I had on a bold red lip color. 
“Is that Joe’s favorite perfume?” My friend Kasey smirked as she got into the car next. After what felt like the longest car ride ever, the taunting ended as we pulled up next to the all too familiar Oakely barn. 
A couple of hours had passed and I was happily buzzing, dancing and singing along to songs with friends I hadn’t seen in months. 
I was so into dancing that I didn’t see a certain blonde haired blue eyed man walk in; but he saw me. “Holy shit, Joe is staring so hard.” Sarah slurred, pulling me in close. I let my eyes wander and I smirked when I caught Joe’s eye.
I downed the rest of my drink and excused myself to go outside to get air. I walked once around the barn and on my second trip, Joe was leaning against one of the walls. As I was about to pass him, he reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward him. 
Despite being in heels, I still had to look up as his 6”4 figure dwarfed me. “Can I help you with something?” I asked. His eyes bore into mine before he leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to my lips.
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:)
@lh4455 @dessxoxsworld
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