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fairyhee · 4 years

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Chocolate eclairs (pt.2)

{Part 1}

🍫 optional bias x reader

🍫 ~5.6k words

🍫 smut, enemies to lovers, slight dom/sub themes, praise kink, some dirty talk, oral (both receiving), face sitting (whew), reader has a thing for hands

(I might have dragged everything out for too long? I’m not sure, you tell me, but I just love thinking about all the details so I went with it. Also while I was writing, at some point I lost half of it and had to re-write it because the damn app didn’t save my changes to the draft 🙃 anyways thank you for reading!)

So far, nothing was going as planned today, but somehow you didn’t mind it anymore. At first you were extremely annoyed to say the least, but you slowly started to think having a tall and ridiculously handsome guy follow you around wasn’t so bad after all. Even though he was purposely being irritating, as always, just to get reactions out of you, it was worth enduring for the random flirty remarks he spat out every once in a while. Was he always like this? Did you only realize it now because you were too busy thinking how obnoxiously confident he was, or did he really also dislike you before? You were quite confused, but you at least thought you should enjoy the moment.

After buying those damn chocolate eclairs that you had been craving for a week, and after he insisted to pay, all while poking fun at how you were gonna die at a young age from how much sugar you consume, your next stop would have been the lingerie store. Except now you had him coming along with you, so you weren’t very sure what you should do. To buy some time, you pretended to look at all the stereotypically “romantic” objects that people usually gifted each other on Valentine’s day. Just for fun, you weren’t planning on hinting at anything, but you just wanted to see what he’d be like. Not to mention window shopping was one of your favorite activities when you had nothing else better to do. He, on the other hand, had his mind fixed on one thing solely.

“Y/n, aren’t we eating those eclairs? You didn’t want them just to carry them around, did you?” he asked with a pout.

“Excuse me, since when is there a ‘we’? They’re my eclairs, and I’m saving them for later. I told you I have plans, were you even listening to me?”

“You have plans, right. Well you should be careful then, that boyfriend you have plans with might get jealous if he sees you walking around with a guy like me. I honestly wouldn’t blame him if he felt threatened, after all, you just let the most handsome dude around here buy you coffee and sweets...oh wait, I forgot. You actually don’t have a boyfriend, do you now?” he said in a sarcastic tone.

“It’s extremely funny that you think I need a man in order to have plans on Valentine’s day. I can very well take care of myself, thank you very much.”

“You can take care of yourself in what way exactly? Because if it’s what I’m thinking of, I bet I can do it better.”

“Thank you for your concern, h/n, but if you think you can buy your way into my pants with some sweets, then you have a very low and unrealistic expectation of me. If you want to impress me, try harder.”

“Oh don’t worry, this is far from my best shot. You just look so hot when you’re mad at me, I can’t stop myself.” he said with a sheepish laugh.

You blushed slightly, both at his words and from seeing him grinning so cutely. He had no business looking all cute like that after he had just literally suggested you sleep with him. How could he switch from being so cocky to getting shy for you in just a matter of seconds? You couldn’t help but wonder what he’d actually be like in bed. Especially since he had just showed a new side of him, a particular image of him being submissive to you was stuck on your brain. You could feel your face heating up, and you hoped he didn’t notice how red your cheeks had probably become.

Brushing it off, you entered a random toy store, feigning interest in some plushies. As you were admiring the various teddy bears that came in all shapes and colors, you noticed he had been surprisingly silent since your last exchange. You threw a glance at him and he seemed to have found some games he was interested in, as he had his eyebrows furrowed, trying to read the instructions on the back of some boxes. Perfect, you thought to yourself, now that he’s distracted, you could think of a plan. What the hell were you gonna do about the lingerie? You didn’t want to give up on buying it, you had wanted it for a long time and now was the perfect occasion. Did you want to go with him? Would he want to even enter the store with you? Would he become flustered and make things awkward? Would it be weird if you suddenly told him to leave you alone for a couple of minutes and meet you later? Or should you just end your meeting right there? You weren’t even sure how you wanted to spend the rest of the day anymore, but you for sure didn’t intend to abandon your plans completely for this man that barged into your solo Valentine’s day like that, despite the fact that you were starting to get interested in him.

While you were definitely overthinking the situation, h/n had long finished browsing the board games section. Suddenly, you felt someone’s hot breath near the side of your neck.

“Y/n. You’ve been staring at that teddy bear for 3 minutes now. Did you not have any as a child, or do you want me to buy it for you that bad? You could just ask, you know.”

Startled by the proximity of his voice, you turned your head to him and took a few steps away. “Wow, you sure have a talent for being rude. You’re still annoying even when you’re trying to hit on me.” you said trying to seem unaffected. However, you would lie if you said that feeling his breath on your skin didn’t send shivers down your spine.

He chuckled at your reaction and slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“So? Do you want it or not?”

“With that sort of attitude, I shouldn’t even answer. So what if I wanted it, what would you do? There’s nothing between us, so why would you buy it for me?” you taunted. You knew he was trying to make you soften up, but you weren’t falling for it just yet.

“Who said I’d buy it for you? If I did and you ended up sleeping with a stuffed toy every night, that would just be unfair.” he pouted. Why was he acting this cute now? This man was so confusing.

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“I don’t wanna be jealous of a teddy bear. I’d rather you would sleep with me instead.”

You stared at his triumphant smile for a few seconds, at a loss for words. He looked like he just made the best pick-up line ever. It was so bad, yet you wanted to accept his wish and take him home. What was wrong with you?

“You’re absolutely obnoxious, did you know that? Wipe that smirk off your face, you look like an idiot.”

He laughed. “But somehow you’re still putting up with me. I’d say you’re doing a great job enduring me. Unless...you’re actually enjoying my company, which I suspect you do.”

“Yeah, whatever. Come on, I have one more thing to get before I can finally go home and get rid of you.”

You had made up your mind. You weren’t letting any man interfere with your plans.

Walking in the most confident way possible, you entered the lingerie store. You didn’t even spare him a glance as you looked through the pieces, searching for something that would match your taste. You were dying to know what his reaction was, what he was thinking, but you weren’t giving in. Suddenly, you had an idea. Acting like what you were doing was the most normal thing, you picked out two options, pretending you couldn’t decide between them. One was a black see-through set adorned with velvet hearts, while the other was made out of red lace and a bunch of straps that looked like a harness. Either way, both were made more to reveal rather than cover you up. Holding one in each hand, you turned to look at him with an unfazed expression plastered on your face.

“Make yourself useful for once and help me decide. Which one do I get?”

Seeing the way he was looking at you made a flush of heat spread across your face. His eyes were dark and he looked like he would have devoured you right then and there. You didn’t know what you expected, but this look was definitely not it.

He took a few seconds to respond, during which his gaze on you only seemed to intensify. He almost looked angry, clenching his jaw and eyeing you so strongly.

“You’d look great in both, but I’d take the red one.”

Hearing his choice, you immediately hung it back on the rack and took your other option to the cash register.

You heard him scoff behind you. “Why bother asking me if you were gonna pick that one anyway?”. He was smiling, but it was clear that he was trying to control his frustration.

You gave him the sweetest smile in the world. “I liked both equally and couldn’t decide, so I’m getting the one you like less. Since you’re never gonna see me wearing it anyway.”

“You drive me insane. That makes absolutely no sense.”

“Really? But you’re the one that’s been following me around all day. Now you’re angry with me, how come?” you said innocently.

He smirked and took a few steps until he was so close, you could feel his hot breath on your face, but you didn’t back away and maintained his gaze. His scent was intoxicating, and you were trying your best to not show how into him you were already.

“If you want to make me angry, you’ll have to try harder, babygirl.” you clenched your thighs hearing that word escape his lips. “I like your teasing a little too much, actually. But making me imagine you wearing all these pretty things only to point out that I can’t have you the way I want? I have to admit, that was pretty mean.”

“Are you challenging me? Then I guess I need to step up my game to really get back at you.”

“Alright then, let’s make a deal. If you fail to make me angry by tonight, you have to go on a date with me. What do you say?”

You couldn’t stop the smirk forming on the corner of your lips. “Deal. You know, now I kinda understand why you keep bothering me. It’s actually fun trying to get you annoyed.” This time you weren’t lying.

He smiled back at you. “Glad we’re on the same page about one thing at least. So, any other torturous shopping that we need to do today? An adult store, maybe, since you said you like to take care of things yourself?”

“Nice try. I actually have a table reserved for later today, so I’m gonna have to go home and get ready. I wanted to go alone and have some me-time, but since I don’t plan on losing that challenge, I guess now you gotta come with me.”

He stopped in his tracks. “Wait a second,”he said and put the back of his palm on your forehead as if checking for a fever, “now it sounds like you’re the one asking me out. What happened? Are you okay?” he asked in an overly dramatic way. Oh great, now he was back to being the town circus.

“It’s not a date, silly. Hopefully, it’s gonna be the worst dinner of your life, so I won’t have to see your face ever again.”

“You do know that I could just not show up and make you lose the bet, right?”

“If you do that, you won’t get my number. So no way to receive your prize.” Besides, you thought to yourself, wasn’t tonight already a date in itself? There was no way he would skip on that, or at least so you hoped. “See you at 6.” you said as you walked away, leaving him behind.

By now your only desire was to get him totally whipped for you. He might have seen through your intentions already, but you couldn’t care less. The fights and arguments that were real in the beginning had now become an act, some sort of game to see which one of you would give in first. And you weren’t backing down until you had him completely wrapped around your finger. This year’s V-day turned out to be a lot more fun than you initially thought.

After getting home, you took your sweet time showering and making yourself as pretty as possible. Having drenched yourself in perfume and strawberry scented body lotion, you put on the new lingerie and a red dress that complimented your figure. You did some minimal, but flattering make-up and took a good look in the mirror. You looked good enough to eat. Exactly what you wanted.

By the time you arrived at the restaurant, he was already waiting for you, and you realized he had probably tried just as hard as you to look hot. And he had definitely done a great job. His hair was pushed back and the suit jacket he was wearing highlighted his broad shoulders and tall figure. You wanted him to push you against a wall right then and there.

“Are you sure you’re not made out of sugar? You look so good, I’m afraid that if I touch you, you’d melt under my fingers.”

“You wish. I don’t even get a hi, you start our conversation with a lame pick-up line? This evening is going to be even more boring than I thought.” you said rolling your eyes.

“It’s good to see you again too. Come on, let’s order quickly, I’m starving.” he said as he was already looking through the menu.

After this first exchange, the rest of the dinner actually went on pretty normally. Without realizing, you had gotten comfortable with each other and stopped arguing altogether. Now you were just chatting about whatever came to mind, enjoying your meals and each other’s company. However, you did notice his eyes lingering a little too long on your exposed neck and chest, which you did your best to bring forward as much as you could when you moved around. You were hyper aware of his gaze on every move you made and you loved the attention he was giving you. You felt like you were the only woman in the room for him, the only one that deserved his attention. You suddenly remembered you were supposed to get him angry, but you weren’t sure you didn’t want a second date after all. However, you felt the need to say something about it.

“Look at all these couples enjoying their romantic dinner, and then there’s us. Here for the sole purpose of annoying each other.”

“If that was the purpose, I’d call this an epic fail.” he said with a smile and took a sip of his gin tonic,”So you still don’t want to admit that this is, in fact, a date?”

“Why would it be one, when we haven’t done anything out of the ordinary? We are just two people eating out together.”

“Good thing the evening isn’t over, then. Great choice of restaurant, by the way. But even though the food was amazing, I’d still prefer eating you out.”

His bluntness caught you off guard, and you let the glass you were previously holding down on the table with a little more force than intended. From the impact, your drink splashed everywhere, including on yourself.

You moved a bit of the fabric of your dress away so you could wipe the martini drops that had just spilled on your chest, which uncovered the strap and the top part of your bra for a few seconds. You didn’t think much of it, but heard him swallow loudly. When you raised your eyes back to meet his, he was looking at you like he wanted to undress you with his eyes.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Did what on purpose?” you asked confused.

“Don’t act so innocent, you know exactly what I’m saying.”

“No idea what you’re talking about. Anyway, care for dessert? You need some sugar in your system, you seem to be turning grim again.”

“If by dessert you mean you, then I’ll gladly accept. You have enough sugar to keep me up for a long time.” he said with a smirk.

“Oh god, can you cut the disgusting jokes out? You make me sick.”

“You’ll be even more disappointed to find out they’re not jokes. By the way,” he leaned over the table so he could bring his face a little closer to yours, “we’ve almost finished our drinks and you still haven’t made me angry. Time is ticking.”

You fell silent for a couple of seconds, and played with your necklace while deep in thought. You were done playing this game. You wanted him, and you wanted him tonight. You wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but ever since you stepped foot in that place all you had been imagining were his veiny hands all over your body, how pretty his long fingers were and how much you wanted them inside you. He hadn’t even touched you once, but your panties were feeling damp already just by staring at his hands or seeing him clenching his jaw. You hadn’t noticed that your fidgeting with your necklace had caught his attention and he was now practically staring at your boobs without any hint of shame in his eyes. Your chest was heaving up and down as his eyes set your skin ablaze and your thoughts ran wild. Of course his gaze didn’t miss your heavy breathing. His fist was clenched on his glass and the veins on his arm protruded even more than usual. Your brain was so intoxicated with him that it completely forgot how to form sentences, leaving him without a reply. He leaned closer to you over the table and all but whispered.

“Just say the words, and I’ll give you whatever you want. All you have to do is say it.”

You hesitated, questioning whether you should swallow your pride or not. You stared into his deep brown eyes, glistening with lust, and admired his plump, slightly parted lips, silently pleading for you to stop this stupid game and finally admit what you’re feeling for each other. He was done playing, and so were you.

“It’s finally time for those eclairs.”

A knowing smile spread on his face, as if he had just won the lottery.

The ride to your place was awfully silent. You felt like you could cut the tension in the atmosphere with a knife. Sitting near him in the back of the cab and just feeling his presence so close to you kept your skin burning up during the entire ride. He still hadn't touched you in the slightest, not even on your hand, and at this point you thought it was intentional just so you'd become desperate for him. It was working. It felt like the drive was taking ages, so you decided to have some fun and tease him a little.

You slowly slid your hand over your legs, starting from your knees and going up towards the hem of your dress, pulling it up ever so slightly. He noticed your movements instantly, and his eyes snapped to you. Now that you were assured he was watching, your hand traveled further under your dress, carefully so it doesn't reveal too much, and started running your own fingers across your damp panties.

His eyes widened, and you saw his adam's apple move when he swallowed a lump in his throat. "What do you think you're doing?" he whispered.

"What does it look like to you? I am an independent woman. Since you have not laid a hand on me all day, I'm doing it myself."

"You're an impatient one, aren't you?" you maintained his gaze but didn't stop your actions, slipping a finger underneath your underwear and whimpering ever so quietly, enough for only him to hear. You were determined to bring him down.

Like you had just pressed a button, his body reacted to your sounds faster than expected. The vein on his hand twitched as he quickly grabbed your wrist and held it in place.

"If you don't stop that, I’ll make sure you have trouble walking tomorrow." his words sent a shiver down your spine. With that, he firmly pulled your hand away and intertwined his fingers with yours, as if preventing you from causing more trouble. You decided to obey him, for now.

After a couple of minutes, you were arriving at your place. He followed you silently into the building and into the small elevator, where you were met with another crisis. He looked like he tried really hard to restrain himself as he leaned with his back and head against the mirror. He was looking at you through furrowed brows and hooded eyes, and you wondered why did he put himself through this struggle, when he could’ve had you right then and there. Pretending to check your mascara in the mirror behind him, you placed one hand on his chest and leaned over him, your face dangerously close to his neck, making sure your exposed cleavage pressed against him in the process. You didn’t care how obvious it was, he was clearly enjoying it. He did nothing but watch you, but his sigh and accelerating breath rate were giving him away. As soon as you reached your level, you instantly shot out of the elevator and got to your door in record time.

The moment you set foot into the apartment and closer the door behind you, any control that you had before, just vanished into thin air.

“Fucking finally”. He wasted no time in pressing you against the wall, both hands holding the sides of your face while he kissed you with all the pent up frustration from that day. You could feel his whole body onto you and yet you wanted more, your hands grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and tugging at it in an attempt to bring him even closer. His lips were soft but aggressive at the same time, the kiss neither too intense nor too slow, earning chills all over your spine the first time his warm tongue entered your mouth. It was still not enough, so you took over and laced your fingers at the back of his head, pulling on his hair while pushing yourself into him. His hands started traveling down your body, gripping your waist and hips with force as he pulled you even closer, making you feel his erection against you in the process.

Out of breath, you broke the kiss to take a good look at him in this state. He was looking at you through glossy, hooded eyes, with his plump lips parted and glistening from the intensity of your kiss. He looked so hot, you realized you might not make it to the bedroom.

Closing in the distance once again, his hands went to squeeze your ass through your dress as he started placing wet kisses down the side of your neck, painfully slowly, sending shivers all over your spine. You lifted a leg up to snake around his own, as if to invite his hands to stop wasting time and get under your skirt already.

“You’re surprisingly gentle for someone who’s been trying to get into my pants all day.” you felt him squeeze your ass harder, and he suddenly bit the soft skin under your ear and sucked on it, earning a gasp from you.

He didn’t reply, but instead slid his hand up your thigh and ran his fingers over your soaking panties.

“And you’re surprisingly wet for someone who supposedly hates me.” he teasingly rubbed the tip of his finger on your clothed clit, making you whine in response. It was almost as if the fabric wasn’t there at all, given how thin it was in the first place. “What did you buy this pretty underwear for, just to ruin it later?”

“Since when do you care about my lingerie?”

“I thought you wanted me to, since you brought me with you to that store and even asked for my opinion.” He pushed your panties to the side and properly coated his fingers with your juices. “You were such a dirty little slut for doing that to me.” his words shot straight to your core.

“Me, dirty? That little head of yours has a lot of issues. It’s your own fault for liking me in the first place.” you teased.

Hearing that, he pushed two fingers into your hole and you moaned. “You can talk shit all you want, but your body can’t lie about how much you want me, princess.” He pulled his hand away from your core, and took his own fingers, now coated with your essence, into his mouth, licking them clean. “Now be a good girl and take this dress off for me.” he said, pulling away from you.

Not wanting to torture yourself any longer, you obeyed him, getting rid of your dress as quickly as possible. As he finally fully saw you in the pretty underwear, he eyed you from head to toe, as if he was looking at his prey, swallowing loudly. “Y/n, you’re so fucking gorgeous.”

You pushed him back and led him to the couch, making him sit down. You quickly straddled his lap, making sure your boobs were right in his face as you grabbed the hair at the back of his head and brought your mouth to his ear, licking a stripe up from the side of his neck, reaching his earlobe. He shivered under you, and you started unbuttoning his shirt, while both his hands stroked over your boobs, touching your nipples and lightly pinching and twisting them over the thin material of the bra. The sensation was spreading into your entire body, making you moan right into his ear. You nibbled onto his earlobe, and he sighed loudly, grabbing your ass and pulling you on top of his dick, grinding into you. Your fingers ran over his now exposed chest and down to his belt, trying to get it undone. He grabbed your hands and undid it himself, and you stood up so he could get rid of his pants.

Instead of sitting back on his lap, you dropped to your knees in between his legs and pulled his underwear down. His cock looked so red and hard, it seemed almost painful, and made your mouth water. You wanted to torture him some more though, so you stuck your tongue out and slowly ran it up from the base to his swollen tip, all while looking directly into his eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed and he was biting his lower lip so hard, as if to keep him from making any sound. You were going to change that. You swirled your tongue around the tip, collecting the drops of precum, before taking him whole into your mouth. As you started bobbing your head, you made sure to take a little more of him each time, pushing your own limit gradually, looking up at him from time to time. “Fuck, you look so pretty like this. You’re taking me so well.” he said, trying to keep himself from forming any other sounds, and you wondered why wasn’t he letting go already. You wanted to make him a moaning mess. One of your free hands started playing with his balls, as you ran your nails across his thigh with the other one. Going a little deeper, his cock hit the back of your throat, and you paused for a second, swallowing around him, which earned a long, breathy moan from him. There, that was your reward. You continued taking him as deep as you could, looking up at him with wide eyes. This was his breaking point, as he couldn’t control his sounds anymore, his mouth was agape, letting out small grunts and whimpers now and then, and you felt his hips struggling to keep still. As the ache in your pussy was getting unbearable because of your actions, your own hand came to play with your clit to get some sort of release, moaning around his cock.

He didn’t miss this, as suddenly, his hand flew to your hair and he held you still. “Don’t you dare touch yourself. Get up” he said in a demanding voice. He followed you up himself, and completely slid his shirt and underwear off of him, then laid down on the carpet. “I want you to sit on my face. Let me have my dessert and enjoy you like you deserve.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. After discarding your panties, you placed your knees on either side of his head and carefully lowered your cunt closer to him, but he grabbed your ass and aggressively pulled you onto his mouth, making you gasp and grip the couch beside you for support. The feeling of his wet and warm tongue against you was making your thighs weak. He started by licking a long stripe across your folds, then alternated between sucking at your clit, drawing patterns with his tongue across your sensitive spot at different paces and intensities. Your sounds and whimpers were a mess, and you could feel your orgasm building with each second. He was eating you out like a starved man, face buried completely under your pussy, and the view was only contributing to your arousal. One of his hands snaked up to your nipple and started playing with it, adding to the sensation. When he suddenly applied more pressure to a certain angle, you thought you were gonna lose your mind. “Fuck, h/n, right there, please, don’t stop” was what you wanted to say, but you weren’t sure your words came out coherently. Either way, he got the message, and a few seconds later, you were coming undone on his tongue, letting out a few high-pitched moans as he helped you ride out your high.

After regaining composure, you stood up to let him breathe. His lips and chin were glistening from your juices, and he wiped them off with the back of his hand. “That was delicious. You’re a fucking goddess, did you know that?” he said as he stood himself up, grabbed your face and kissed you with force.

“Just fuck me already.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice.” he said as he pushed you against your table, having you lie down on it. He quickly grabbed a condom from his jeans and rolled it on his still painfully hard cock. Grabbing your legs and holding them on each side of him, he rubbed the tip of his member over your clit a few times before fully pushing it into your tight hole, swearing in the process. He wasted no time before moving, slowly at first to let you adjust, then suddenly slammed his hips into you with force, earning a loud moan from you. “Fuck, do that again, please” you said, already feeling your second orgasm starting to build up. He thrusted into you harder and deeper, filling the room with your sounds everytime his skin met yours. The way he filled you up was absolutely delicious, clouding your vision and making you lose yourself in your pleasure as he was hitting all the right spots inside you.

“Ever since your brought me into that store, all I could think of was fucking you in your pretty lingerie, imagining how your boobs would bounce up and down while I pound into you like this.” you took his hand and brought it to your lips, silently asking him to let you suck onto his fingers. “You don’t know how much of a torture that wa- fuck” you took his long and pretty fingers into your mouth and swirled your tongue around them, mimicking the way you sucked him off earlier and watching him lose his ability to speak as his mouth hung open. “H/n, harder, don’t stop, I’m going to come.” you said in a desperate attempt to get him to shut up and concentrate. Motivated by your words, he increased his pace, and after a few more hard and sloppy thrusts, you reached your second orgasm, soon followed by his own. His whole body twitched as he came down from his high, both of you panting, and exhausted.

Pulling out of you, he quickly discarded the condom and took you into his arms to place both you and him comfortably on the couch.

“That was fucking hot” he said, still holding you in his arms while you were catching your breaths.

“Yeah. I think I might hate you a little less after this.” you said and you both laughed.

After coming back to your senses, you got up and went straight to the kitchen. A few seconds later, you came back holding the box he bought you from the french bakery, handing him an eclair.

“I knew why I saved those chocolate eclairs for later. They taste better after you’ve been craving them all day, don’t you think?”

He just smiled in response. “You might be right. By the way, I won. It seems like you’ll be drinking ice americanos again, after all.”

#optional bias smut #optional bias x reader #optional bias scenarios #optional bias #oneus smut #ateez smut #bts smut #skz smut #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #keonhee smut #kpop fanfic #the boyz smut

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obeiii-mee · 4 years

Note

I am not sure if the request is open- fanfic or headcanon an angst of mc sacrificing her life to return Lilith to them and lilth come back so she told she's only here becuz the mc bought her back how would the demon brother cope with it- it is okay if you don’t want to write it :)

I haven’t written any angst yet on this blog so I don’t really know how this is going to turn out. I don’t know how MC would be able to bring Lilith back so I’ll just figure something out as I write along. It’s hard for me to write the brothers suffering help me-

I want to make it clear that I don’t know if it’s possible for a human to do something like this but for the sake of this request let’s roll with it. Lilith is back and MC sacrificed their life for that to happen. I really don’t think any of the brothers would react well because Lilith and MC aren’t the same person. They love both of them very much but they wouldn’t be able to make one suffer just to bring the other back. All the HCs are related, happening on the same day, in the same way. Lilith reuniting with her brothers one by one starting with Lucifer. Hopefully this makes sense but I don’t really have my way around words so——

This is obviously too long so I won’t be able to write for all the brothers in one post. Instead I’ll write about Lucifer, Mammon and Levi in this one and then continue this on another post. So this is part one. Thanks for the request!

Pt. 2

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The Brothers Reacting to MC sacrificing themselves to bring Lilith back, Part 1:

Lucifer:

-OK, realistically speaking, it should have been impossible for Lilith to be brought back. She lived as a human and died, that’s it, you can’t reverse something like that. But you really didn’t want to give up, seeing the way the brothers acted whenever the topic of their sister was brought up was too much for you to handle. So you kept looking and searching for spells, magical objects, anything you could get your hands on that could help. You even spoke to Solomon about it in secret, away from Lucifer’s prying ears. You were too determined to be swayed away from the task.

-Of course, after a long time of searching, you found exactly what you were looking for. And of course in order for Lilith to be brought back to life once again, you would have to give something in return; your life. It was a hard pillow to swallow but after hours of arguing back and forth with yourself, you decided to do it. For the sake of all the brothers and their happiness. It wasn’t the quickest of deaths but it definitely didn’t hurt nearly as much as it should have. And once your soul had officially been diminished, Lilith was given a tangible body and teleported to DevilDom. That also meant that she was completely aware as to why or how and she wasn’t exactly happy. It was an indescribable moment full of misery and despair for her. She was back and her descendant payed the price for it.

-Lucifer didn’t really believe his eyes when he first saw his long dead sister on their couch, supposedly staring at nothing. He first assumed that he was daydreaming which seemed like the most rational option at that point. Due to all the paperwork he had to finish by the end of the week, he had been rather sleep deprived and it made sense that he started hallucinating. After all, Lilith was on his mind quite a lot. But then she noticed him and she sprung into his arms before he could even get a word out. It always used to be like this. Her running straight into him just to show her affection back when they were both angels and happy.

-She was real, not a dream or a fiction of his mind and he didn’t know how to feel about it. He was torn, as if all of his emotions were threatening to come out at once and he didn’t know how to handle that. Lucifer uses logic for every situation he finds himself in, but this time, it was thrown out the window. It didn’t matter why or how or when. All that mattered was that she was here and he got to see her again after all these millenniums of dealing with the slow torture of having to carry the burden of her death by himself. He was ready to go get his brothers, the rest of his dysfunctional family and obviously MC had to come along too, them being just as important to him as everyone else. But Lilith grabbed his sleeve.

-His sister told him everything. Ranging from MC’s sacrifice to her waking up in DevilDom and to her wandering around until she found the House of Lamentation. His brain stopped working the moment the words registered with him as Lilith rambled on with her story. He almost wanted to ask her if she was joking but he knew her better than that; his little sister was never one to joke about something so grave.

-Lucifer always knew that their exchange student was a bit of a nutcase and definitely special in their own way. Considering how often they went to the extremes and overdid every little thing that had to be done. But this...this was something entirely different. They gave up their own life for them, for Lilith to come back and they did this because of him and his siblings. The second time MC had been ripped away from him, without even the satisfaction of saying goodbye because they were way too good for his family and for DevilDom in general. He wanted to scream and cry and curse his father even more so than usual for this cruel turn of events. Any more of this emotional suffering, and his heart may as well stop pulsating. MC died and he couldn’t help them in any way, he couldn’t stop them from making this mistake because he had just gotten over Lilith’s death and had begun to heal from the trauma. And now you left him as well.

-Lilith forced him to sit down and let him deal with his internal breakdown while she thought this out. At this rate her brother was either going to wind up in a blind rage and pop out another Satan or drown himself in depression and anguish. But Lucifer, despite the range of emotions conflicting him on the inside, tried remaining as calm on the outside as possible. Lilith was right there. He shouldn’t cry in front of his sister, he never did. He was always supposed to be the role model, be the strong protector that she could lean on if she needed help. With a single tear running down his cheek, which he quickly wiped away, he got up, abruptly much to the protest of Lilith and began walking toward the door.

-He had to tell his brothers. The news would break every single one of them and he couldn’t do anything about it. He had the responsibility of going to every single one of them and privately discuss this because god knows what chaos would ensue if they were all in a room together with Lilith. He would have to talk to Lord Diavolo, get another exchange student down there but...not yet. Not yet. He had to tell his siblings first. His younger brothers that he swore he would protect with all of his being since he couldn’t do so with Lilith. And now he had to go and break their hearts while his own lay shattered on the floor.

-But first, he was going to go and cry by himself, locked away in his room, so he can regain the power of speaking with everyone properly. And he would just have to accept the fact that MC will forever be stuck in his heart, with no means of getting them out.

-Who would have thought a human like you would stir up these feelings within me?

Mammon:

-It was his fault. It was always his fucking fault. Whenever something bad happened to you, the first person Mammon blamed was himself. How could he not? He was in charge of you after all, he was supposed to be your protector and guardian during your stay in DevilDom. Honestly, at first, he didn’t really care about you. Your whole existence and the fact he had to babysit you was irritating more than anything. But it didn’t take long for him to get attached to you, he fell and he fell fast. Soon enough, he was about ready to just dedicate his entire being to you (and money, we don’t forget about money). You were his human. So how did he fuck it all up?

-That day, he was supposed to be with you. At least one of the brothers had to be with you at all times, per Lucifer’s orders, to make sure you could circulate DevilDom without getting killed. He had one job to do. Follow you around until you got bored and wanted to go home. Then, since you were left with the rest of his brothers, he could go do his thing. But a modelling gig had come up rather abruptly and he had to go get ready for a few shots. Mammon, being a simp great companion and actually a lot smarter than people give him credit for, was really hesitant at first. He didn’t really want to leave you alone and offered to turn the job down. He would never admit it, but his human was way more important.

-However, you insisted it was fine, encouraging him to go and implying you would be alright for an hour by yourself. Besides, you had something to check and would probably be home in no time. He couldn’t really argue back so he reluctantly agreed and left you to your own devices.

-And that was the last time he saw you.

-After his shoot, he couldn’t find you anywhere. Not at home, not in Majolish, not at any of your favourite places. He wasn’t worried at first because he thought you were with one of his siblings. But half an hour later, he was getting panicky and pushing himself over the edge. Sitting alone in his room, pondering on where the fuck you could have been while also debating as to where he should look for you first. He really didn’t want to bring the subject up with Lucifer because he feared his reaction and the possibility he would forbid Mammon from helping him search for you.

-And just as he had conjured up a master plan, Lucifer walked in. With Lilith behind him like it was regular Tuesday night. Her presence wasn’t acknowledged for a few moments, he was too concentrated on Lucifer’s face, scared out of his wits that he found out you were missing and now he was about to face punishment. His older brother didn’t look angry though. Grave and sad, but mostly solemn, like he was holding back. Then it clicked that his loving sister, the one that was supposed to be dead, was standing next to him. Mammon jumped. Physically jumped backwards and fell off the bed in surprise. If there was one thing he disliked more than giving his money away, it would be thinking about Lilith. His memories with her brought him nothing but tears.

-Lilith smiled, in an honest and slightly upset way, seeing her brother’s antics after such a long time made her feel a sort of nolstagia she didn’t think she would miss. Mammon was still staring at her like he’s just been told he had to give all of his money to the witches. He kept switching his gaze between her and Lucifer, as if confirming with him that she wasn’t a ghost while he kept his eyes wide in horror.

-“Stop that Mammon. Your gawking is giving me a headache.” Lucifer snapped, more ferociously than usual which was odd. Mammon thought he looked more tense, rigid but he didn’t push the subject. He wanted to get up, walk up to Lilith and touch her, see if she was real. And then he wanted to hug the living daylights out of her. But he froze on the spot until Lucifer finally managed to spit out that Lilith was, indeed, back. And then Mammon sprinted straight into her arms like a fired bullet, not planning on letting go for a long time. His sister just smiled again, happy to see her needier brother again and to know that despite being a demon now, he hadn’t changed all that much. That moment was sort of euphoric and he grasped onto it for as long as he could.

-Then came the devastating news that would hit Mammon in the gut harder than a moving truck.

-MC was gone. Forever. Forever, forever. Never to be seen again. Gave her entire being up for Lilith to come back to life. Lucifer told him but his eyes and voice seemed to be elsewhere, as if he struggled to show emotion in his voice during his monologue because he was directing those emotions somewhere else. Lilith tightened her grip on him, preparing for a meltdown, or even an angry fit, anything could be expected from this brother of hers in particular.

-Oh there was a meltdown alright. His reaction was immediate. He started shaking, uncontrollable trembling that he couldn’t stop no matter how hard he tried to and his vision blurred and swayed as if he was drunk and his nails were digging into his palms hard enough to draw blood. Everything felt unstable and he couldn’t take MC’s face out of his mind, like their face was printed onto his brain for keeping purposes. His throat dried up and besides the stream of tears rolling down his face, Mammon started sweating. In the span of a minute, he’s gotten too immeasurably hot and now he was sweating even though he lives in hell and should already be used to this kind of warmth.

-He became unresponsive after that. Not even Lucifer could get through to him. He just sat there, like a broken shell. His brother was speaking to him about things, replacements and a bunch of shit he wasn’t interested in. He didn’t want to hear any of it. He just wanted his human back, even if it meant he had to serve the witches for the rest of eternity. After a while, both of them left. Lucifer giving his shoulder a squeeze, something he hasn’t done in forever but the gesture was somehow comforting. It showed that his older brother was suffering too and he could tell from his voice alone. Lilith hugged him one more time and pecked his cheek and he wanted to grab her hand and keep her there because even though she literally just came back, he needed his sister to stay with him as he went through this. Mammon let them leave.

-He’s more closed off than before. He still steals shit all the time but it’s out of pity for himself more than anything else. He also took a bunch of your belongings too, something to remind him that you existed once. That you had a presence and changed his life and his brothers for the better. Mammon breaks down at the most random of times whenever he’s reminded of you and these sometimes take hours before he finally calms down. Somehow Lilith is the only one who happens to have an effect on him. Her presence at least helps. But not by a lot.

-Stupid human, letting him be an idiot and allowing him to leave you all by yourself. Stupid Mammon for being such a moron and letting the one person that understood him beyond the surface of the Avatar of Greed and actually associated him with being more than just scum, die. Stupid MC, leaving him all alone...

-He just hopes you’ve made it to the Celestial Realm...but seeing as you died in DevilDom, he doubts it.

Levi:

-Levi was sort of used to you showing up late to his gaming sessions. He didn’t blame you really, his brothers were sure to try and grab as much of your attention as possible so it makes sense you forgot about little old him. Except you never did. Sure you came by later than planned, but you always came no matter what so maybe he wasn’t giving you enough credit.

-Maybe he should have tried calling you, or even just texting you to see what you were up to. That’s why he had a D.D.D to begin with after all. But he didn’t. He assumed you were with Mammon or reading with Satan somewhere. Maybe sleeping with the twins. Levi reasoned with himself that you were probably fine and just got caught up on something on the way home. Yet the pit in his stomach kept growing with every minute that passed and before he knew it, he was pacing around the room.

-He heard Mammon having a breakdown from somewhere, and at first, he really had an overwhelming urge to check in with him and see what the problem was. Maybe something happened to MC. Maybe something happened to his older brother. Levi has a dislike for him sure, but he still wouldn’t want Mammon to suffer, no matter how much money he owes him. He didn’t leave his room. He assumed he was crying because the witches were at it again or maybe because he lost all of his money at the casino or even because Lucifer was punishing him for something.

-Then, a knock came on his door and he jumped to his feet faster than he had ever done so before. Password and all long forgotten, he opened the door to his room expecting to see you. Instead, he came face to face with his oldest brother, which disappointed him beyond measure. He was about to mumble something about MC and whether he had seen them at all that day but something stopped him. Behind Lucifer, just barely visible since she is slightly shorter than him, was Lilith. His reaction was definitely interesting.

-“Oh-I....holy crap, this is just like that anime where the protagonist’s dead sister comes back as ghost and starts talking to him. Oh shit, am I going insane or are ghosts are actually real? And not Lilith, Lilith doesn’t deserve to live the rest of eternity as a ghost-“

-“Shut up Levi.”

-“Sorry.”

-Lilith slowly walked out him and hugged him, which debunked Levi’s theory. She wasn’t a ghost! She was real and she was hugging him! He missed her so much, he was actually still doubting the fact that she was back. Levi tried pushing her out of his mind so many times because it hurt too much to think of her and now she was right here in front of him.

-The moment didn’t last though. Lucifer had to interrupt. He himself was shaky, still processing a bunch of things and on top of all that, he had to break his brothers’ spirits. The words came out eventually and Levi’s reaction was a lot slower than Mammon’s. He couldn’t process it as well and it felt like his life was put on pause, like in one of his video games. Lilith was holding him, as a sort of support system but Levi just kind of drifted in another world.

-Sure, he missed his sister dearly. But that didn’t mean he wanted MC’s life to be exchanged with hers. It was such an unfair choice really, making him choose between two people he absolutely adores. Except he didn’t make that choice. You did. And it changed everything.

-Ever since you left, he hasn’t had as much energy in playing games or even watching anime. He can’t find himself sitting for too long, he always has be to pacing and chewing on his fingernails. Everything seemed pointless without you here. Nothing was right. Watching anime by himself wasn’t as enjoyable even though he used to do it for a long time before you even came to DevilDom. He doesn’t have the energy to participate in Ruri chan contests either, though sometimes he makes an effort to. In a way to satisfy himself knowing that you didn’t die for him to mope around all depressed.

-He just sort of lays in his room all day, speaking with Henry 2.0 occasionally or just trying to relax in his bathtub. But it never works. Your voice keeps ringing in his ears. He misses you terribly and his sleeping schedule probably worsened since he can’t sleep now at all, thanks to all the nightmares he gets every night, featuring you of course.

-Out of all the things the world could have taken away from him, it just had to be his Henry didn’t it? Maybe he was just cursed from ever finding a true friend like you....

Hey, yeah I’m not dead. Just been working on this for a while now. This is obviously too long already so I can’t write for all the brothers at once. I’ll do a second post continuing this ask soon but for now I’ve written and edited this for the eldest three. Sorry it took so long and that I only managed three of the brothers. I’m still working on the following four. Thanks for reading! Part 2 should done soon!

#obey me #obey me imagines #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #to be continued #angst #⭐️ requests #🦚 lucifer supremacy #🐡 levi supremacy #💳 mammon supremacy #🌪 angst

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the-fourth-knower · 3 years

Text

Diary of a lost doe, part 1

A short fic where my character Annabelle writes in diaries

Fresh off losing her parents, Annabelle Flaches must contend with trying to fend for herself and her baby sister Angelica. And with Angelica talking to a mysterious green orb when she thinks Annabelle isn’t watching, things are only at the tip of the iceberg.

This is for me and Aquillis’s “half and half” AU, our ‘main’ AU. not to be confused with Aqui’s pack universe which is her underground re-write.

Due to the length I'm splitting this into two parts. This is part 1, part 2 is here!

Diary Enry 1, Day I dunno.

Okay here it is. First diary entry I guess. Gotta keep it brief, writing instruements are hard.

Been a few months since that day. We’re doing fine. Angie started another garden. Moved to a new spot.

Got some new things for the house. Old car door and a tire. Not sure what I’ll do with the tire gonna use the door as part of wall.

Finished roof this morning. Good thing 2, might rain.

Angie still sleps bad if not next to me. Writing while she’s curled up. Wasn’t for scars on ear and having to sleep in same clothes she’d look like we’re still home.

Gotta sleep now.

Diary Entry 2

Maybe got a job. Illegal probs but $ is $

Angelica talked more today. Good sign? Maybe she relapses back into not talking but progress.

I never thought i’d miss her annoying stupid “hey lets go explore a cave and not tell anyone bout what we’ll do” self. Never thought about losing mum and pa ei

Shit crying. Bye.

Diary entry 3

Diary didn’t get too wet yesterday.Don’t think bout mom and pa it ends badly.

I can’t afford to break down even if Angie’s sleeping

If I break down then Angie will get upset

I won’t put her through it

I won’t

…

Diary entry 54

Had to leave town but am 600 $ richer

Angie’s quiet again. But she didn’t complain bout us leavin

gonna go for a city maybe. more risk but more money and places to live.

Jadetown’s the city. Dunno too much bout it but mum liked it.

Should get there in maybe a cuple weeks or so

Angie’s sound asleep. No kicking or anything so that’s good

Hope the city’s okay. Angie hates crowds.

Need somewhere with not a lot of crowds to live at

…

Diary Entry 63

Been a hot second. Settling in Jadetown’s pretty hard.

Find a quiet spot in the slums. Pretty shitty now, but the two of us can make it work

Angie still isn’t talking, but she kept close to me while we made our way through the crowds. She seemed fine as long as she held my hand

Lost her a couple times, but not for long. She seemed upset bout it.

Sorry Angie.

I’ll do better. I promise.

...

Diary Entry 169 (it’s the morning but fuck it)

The nightmare happened again.

Angelica having her ear scared by those monsters. mum and pa being taken away in exchange for us being set loose

Only it loops around and around before it’s just cries and blood and knives and screams and crying and they’re all surrounding me judging me for just failing everyone because you’re a fucking failure

Haven’t had it a while. Don’t upset yourself, Angie needs you.

Diary entry 169? Night

Angelica almost killed some street thugs.

we caught some dumbass looking punks bullying some sort of chao. I think it’s a chao

I ran up to one like an idiot and gout in their face to know what they’re doin, and the things went dark. I got knocked out on my ass, apparenlty the big brute that led them butted me in the head. Asshole didn’t even let me get ready

I came to to Angie trying to shake me awake. When I looked around the punks were gone, there were plant vines all over, and the other kids that had gathered were a mix of crapped their pants and mouths on the floor

I asked angie bout it and she just said she took care of them and that the punks had run off

What the hell did she do? Usually I’m the one saving her? But she was having none of it today.

Oh the chao’s fine, weirdass chao though. Never seen chao that just cause flowers to grow around them or in their footsteps.

Made 30 $

Rib’s hurting and headache, Angie fast asleep. Time for bed.

Diary Entry 170

Chao’s bak.

Visited Angie’s garden for a while watchin me watchin it. It waved and left right around Angie gettin up.

Showed up again when we got back home. Angie hasn’t seen it yet. Good thing, she wanted to bring it with us. We can’t afford three mouths.

I don’t like it. We save its ass and now its stalking us.

Made nothin.

Ribs hurt less. Still a bitch.

Diary entry 171

Angie’s found the “chao”

She talked to it all morning when she thought i was napping. Couldn’t sleep, too afraid of bad dreams.

It doesn’t make chao sounds. Or it does but really weird ones.

Then it turned a green light ball for a bit and back into a chao

Angie liked that.

I don’t trust it. Even less.

Need to watch it.

Angie’s relaxed.

Made 5$.

Diary Entry 172 morn

Nightmare again

Diary Entry 172 night

Angie got excited, claimed that she “found Trevor”

he lived near us back in our old home

Had to tell her no, every red mouse we see is not Trevor.

She says that Trevor and his family were gonna move here, pretty inistent too.

Man she gets caught up on the smallest things

Made 20$

Diary Entry 173

Chao returned while i was working. Left Angie on her own

Shes seemed like she was having a fun time being able to talk with someone

She’s not made friends much. Maybe i’m being too hard on the ‘chao’

Still gotta watch it. It could be manipulating her

Haven’t told her I know bout the chao yet.

Should i?

Not now. Angelica is sleeping.

Made 5$

Diary Entry 174

‘Trevor’ spotting 2. Angie wanted to go bug the person. So we went and sure enough as we got closer Angie changed her mind. It was a rat, not a mouse she said.

How can she tell the difference?

No Angie and chao visit. Unless it was while i slept in. but why would she be secretive bout it?

Saw the punk bitch again today. Looked like he crapped his pants when he saw Angie and she glared at him. That’s my sister.

Made 60$

…

Diary Entry 364

Got a new diary. Last entry for this one. Things going well. Got a good thing going for myself.

Angie found a new plant today, and now she’s got it in her garden.

Loved the look on her face when I got it for her.

Made 50$

Angelica’s chatted with the Chao again. Sort of like, is her guardian I think. Or is that its name

Guess good bye diary 1. Really weird to do but it feels right.

Angie’s sleeping well enough on her own. She mumbles but that seems it.

Do I do a good job keeping her safe

Diary 2 Entry 1

Managed to find a new diary. Keeping the old one just cause, and because I have the storage. For a couple of street bum does, we’ve got a decent enough house going. Been able to put it together from bits and bobs lying around, Angie even threw in her hat and added her own touches.

Looks ugly as hell with the plants holding things together and it’s all a mish mash of junk and crap I found, but it’s our mishmash of junk and crap.

Also saved up enough and am making enough to afford more than one pen and even some pencils. So I can write more often. Just felt like writing

Angie’s started to get more vocal again. I think she’s catching onto the fact the way I’ve been making money is less than honest a lot of the time.

I’m not going to sell myself for it though. I’m not degrading myself with that and nayone who fucking tries is going to a hospital.

And if any of those freaks dare go near Angie there won’t be enough left for a morgue to pick up.

Oh, and the chao’s still around. I can feel it. Angelica loves it, I think. I don’t trust it entirely, yet. But, it hasn't been a danger for the past months. So I think it’s actually a good thing.. Angie calls it Guardian. Maybe it's our own Guardian Angel.

Made 65$ today.

Good journal entry me. You got talkative. Writative? Whatever.

...

Diary 2 Entry 23

Got into a fight today, that was fun. The punks from when I helped save Guardian decided to jump me when Angelica was at the house. Guess they figured they could jump me without little sis to back me up. Too bad for them, when I don’t get suckered I’m damn good at defending myself. Sent them packing. Got a bit bruised. Why is it always the ribs with those guys.

Admittedly. I didn’t have to beat the crap out of them. But talk shit get hit, I say. They shouldn’t have been trash talking me when I was walking by.

Angelica was upset when I got back. Should’ve expected that, really. Don’t know why I didn’t think she would notice me being hurt, she’s got a sixth sense for that sort of thing. Always has. Kinda weird.

But, she did try and heal me a bit. Somehow, she’s gotten better at it -Ever since she's met Guardian, she’s gotten more control over that healing ability she has. I just need to make sure she doesn’t overdo herself again.

I don’t know anything much bout healing magic or whatever it is, but I don’t think what Angie has is normal. I think she uses herself for it. Whatever healing she tries to do just eats away at her. And whatever it was was enough to frighten Pa to move us in the first place

I think part of me might blame ANgie for it. For getting us out of the safety of where we lived near Agateton and moving.

But if we didn’t move would we really have been safe still. And it wasn’t Angie’s fault she did what she did, it was Pa who pushed for it and Mum who went with it.

So do I blame them? I don’t want to. The monsters that took them and hurt Angie are the ones to blame.

But they wouldn’t have found us if we didn’t move near that forest. But Mum and Pa couldn’t have seen it coming.

Ugh. brain hurts. Fuck this mind screw bullshite

Spent 123.54$ today. Groceries and supplies. Tampons are stupid expensive but I want to have a decent supply for when we need them. Also some food.

Made 13$. Gonna need to work more to recoup.

No idea if Angie talked with Guardian. She still thinks I don’t know anythin bout it.

At least, I think she doesn’t. She gets defensive and acts like she doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

I wonder why she does that. Wonder if it’s tied with how I react to her saying she’s found Trevor for the umpteenth time.

Maybe I should press her bout it. But I don’t want to get her worked up over nothin.

Okay that’s enough, my mind’s getting wandering now and I stay up if I do that.

...

Diary 2 Entry 54

Someone showed up with a bunch of robots earlier. Cause quite the commotion, sent people running, the usual.

Apparently he set up shop in the rich quarter and is causing all sorts of troubles. People have been coming to and fro a lot the past few days.

Angie got worried over explosions. Had to calm her down, explain that whatever it was probably wasn’t coming here. She asked me bout the people there and if they needed help - told her that someone would take care of the rich fops. That’s what they do after all. Who gives a shit about two practically orphaned kids.

Not sure if she bought it. Gotta keep an eye on her. Might need to pull an all nighter.

And we don’t have any energy drinks or coffee. I could go grab one, no one is gonna give a shit if I do, not in this current environment.

Gotta stop for now. Gotta focus on Angie not some stupid book.

Entry 55

Angie’s missin

#Knower writes #Sonic #Sonic Fic #Sonic the Hedgehog #Annabelle Flaches #Angelica Flaches #didn't realize it'd be so long #guess that's what happens if I just let myself write something #but I had fun writing this #hope everyone enjoys this first part

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movedto-erodasghosts · 4 years

Text

the Holiday | timothée chalamet

chapter one: The Prince and the Pauper. (prince.)

↳ read Iris’ version here and a little bit of Timmy (Tom Holland fic)

I’ve had so much fun working on this Christmas series, hopefully people enjoy! This series will have 2 fics in 1, so there will be two story lines. I will be writing this Timmy version and @peeterparkr will be writing a Tom Holland version. This series is based off of the movie the Holiday, where two women with recently broken hearts decided to switch their homes over the holiday. Both of our fics will be reader insert, but for the sake of less confusion when writing about Nancy’s character I will use “Iris” and when she is writing mine she will use “Sophia”. Both fics are connected! read @peeterparkr‘s version to get the whole story!

story summary: Two women troubled with guy-problems, one who’s in love with love and one who doesn’t believe in it are both suffering from a broken heart, with little reasoning and nothing left to lose, they swap homes in each other's countries for the holidays, where they’ll meet a local guy who will probably change their destiny.

chapter summary: the heartbreak of an apathetic lover.

pairing: timothée chalamet x y/n

warnings: mentions of cheating

word count: ~7.1k

a/n: you do not have to read both, but it does make for the best experience to! please don’t feel pressured though :)

masterlist

Love was something that seemed so simple and straightforward. How could it not be? There were set guidelines for everything, rules to follow in any event. There were rules for love, rules for relationships too. Rules that were simply that, rules. Relationships didn’t have to be complicated, so long as the rules were followed. And it wasn’t like there were many rules, or that they were even complicated in themselves. Really, the biggest and most important rule was to simply not cheat, that's all. How hard could that be?

What are you supposed to do when rules are broken though? Sure, there are rules to follow if those rules are broken, but they never seemed to be rules you would need to know. So where did this put you now?

It didn’t feel so straightforward anymore though, it felt more like a whirlpool just washing away at you. Love might’ve been more complicated than you thought. Was it worth the complications? Honestly, you couldn’t say. Things never seemed to be too terribly complicated for you, it was simple enough to make most decisions. You found that people often made things far more complicated than what seemed necessary, too many feelings attached. Why did things need to have so many strings attached? Why couldn’t people just realize what was best and move on?

Then again, you were even sure you knew what was best anymore. It had seemed that you found love, that all the rules were being followed. Things seemed to be so simple, so orderly. So why did he have to go and break the rules? And what did that make everything mean?

Maybe love wasn’t even real. How could it be? If it was, why did Danny ever do that? It was a direct violation of the most basic rule, and it was just downright cruel.

Love, if it existed, wasn’t supposed to hurt. It was supposed to be supporting one another, working with each other to make life simpler. Love was meant to be just taking your partner in, sharing your interests with each other. It was removing stress and worry off the other’s shoulders.

What love wasn’t, was going behind one another’s backs. Betraying all of what you built. Love wasn’t breaking each other's hearts, and it was not breaking the rules.

Love also wasn’t meant to be a distraction, and yet you were letting it whisk your thoughts away all morning. How could you not? You couldn’t stop yourself from this non stop wondering if it was true. Had Danny really cheated on you? And if so, why? How did he expect you to react? Well, that you knew the answer to.

“Come on, y/n. What was I supposed to do? She’s new to the job, she needed some help from someone.”

“So, so what? She needed help getting laid?” You scoffed, “Don’t play that card on me. It’s not like there is much to figure out about a receptionist job.”

“I didn’t sleep with her, I swear.” It was completely unconvincing.

“On my life?”

“What?”

“Do you swear on my life?” You repeated. “If you’re so sure that you didn’t do it, swear on my life.”

You could see as his brain scrambled for answers, he was stuck in a corner.

“Y/n, come on. I’m not going to do that, I won’t swear on your life. That’s ridiculous.”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s not, it’s simple. If you could just do it then this would be over.”

“You’re being irrational.”

“I am not!” You tossed a pillow at him, “You broke the rule! You slept with her, and for what? Just so you could gaslight me about it?”

“I’m not gaslighting y—

“Oh, of course you aren’t.” You marched over to the closet, taking all of his things out. “Unbelievable, Danny. All you had to do was not cheat. It was that simple.”

“What’re you doing?” He watched you tossing everything on the bed. “Hey, don’t do this. C’mon, we can talk about this. We can work it out, right?”

“No!” You threw the last shirt. “No, Danny, we can’t. You had to go and throw it all away. You wanted her so bad, and well now you can have her.”

“It wasn’t even her! I mean, really. I just… can’t take it with you anymore. It’s always something, you know.” He sat on the bed, folding his things up as he expected them to be put back.

“Always something? Really? What does that mean?”

“Don’t act like you don’t see it. You can’t talk, you’re too busy with work. You can’t have dinner, you’re busy at the shop. You can’t just tell me how you feel instead of beating around the bush, your emotions are too sensitive to talk about apparently.”

You started walking away, “I’m not taking this from you.”

“Oh, of course not! That’s another thing,” he followed after, “it’s always about you. It’s about your schedule, your needs, your damn rules. It’d be a true miracle for me to have any input.”

“So that’s why you decided to sleep with her? Because you couldn’t work up the nerve to tell me you needed some alone time with me?” You turned around, arms crossed. “You know how much I care about the shop, and you should know that a lot of work goes into running it.”

“Maybe I just got tired of this never ending schedule built around your world.” Danny shrugged, “Was it really so bad of me to want some attention on me for once? I mean, come on!”

“It was horrible of you to break the ru—“ you stopped yourself, there was no way he would be winning the argument. “I just can’t believe you expect me to be okay with you cheating on me. You’re talking about it like, like I was supposed to expect this to be coming? Like I don’t have the right to be monumentally pissed at you right now?”

“You’re always at that damn bookstore,” he lamely fought. “I don’t know what to tell you. It’s not like we can’t work through this.”

But what made him think you wanted to work through it? Really, that was the last thing you wanted at the moment. And it wasn’t like he even deserved that much from you. He broke the rules.

He broke them, and blamed you for it. You couldn’t even see what you had done wrong, it didn’t make sense. Yes, you worked a lot, but being a shop owner is demanding. It requires a lot from you. Danny always tried convincing you to share the workload with Tom, who had been working in your shop from nearly the start. You completely trusted Tom, and yet there was this part of you that couldn’t just let him do that out of worry that things just wouldn’t be the same if it was him instead of you.

Even if you worked too much, that was no reason for Danny to do what he had done. It just didn’t make sense. Why were you even letting it eat away at you? That was the kind of thing you would typically consider to be a waste of time, so you were unsure as to why you were so caught up in it now.

“Y/n, hey,” Tom poked your side. “You okay? You’ve been putting the books up the wrong way.”

“Hmm?” You glanced at him before looking back to the books in front of you. “Shit…”

You hadn’t even noticed, not a single one of them.

He chuckled, reaching out to help you fix them. “You seem lost in the clouds today.”

“I know, sorry. It’s just… Danny and I had a fight last night and this morning. I guess I’m just trying to figure that out.”

His brows furrowed, “What was the fight about?”

You stacked up the books and let out a long and heavy sigh. Running a hand down your face, you chuckled, “He fucked his receptionist.”

Simple, straightforward.

“Oh wow,” Tom’s eyes widened. “Umm… did he…” he cleared his throat, “did he confess?”

“Indirectly.” You shook your head, “He blamed me for it. Said he needed some attention, and that I fail to give it to him. He told me I spend too much time here, and that I make everything about myself.” You started shoving the books back into place, Tom handing you a new one each time.

“So he thinks he’s justified?”

“Completely, and he expected me to just move on from it and maintain our relationship. I mean, how the hell do I just move on from that?” You looked at Tom.

He shrugged, pointing to the shelf, “Still not put up right.”

Looking over, you noticed they weren’t. Some books were placed upside down, or even backwards. It wasn’t like you to mess up something so minor or to get that lost in your own thoughts.

“Fuck…” you started taking them out again.

“Let me,” he stepped over, taking the books from your hands. “Go on about Danny, though.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice, “He’s made it all complicated. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I could’ve sworn to you a week ago that we loved one another. You know, we just… we seemed to work so well together. He didn’t seem to mind my busy schedule, it’s like that came out of nowhere. I just thought he was more understanding.”

“So he’s upset the balance?”

“More than that, he’s thrown me completely off trail. He broke the rule, Tom!” Your voice was louder than you realized, for once you had forgotten you were even in your shop.

“It sounds to me like he’s not worth the worry,” He put the last book in. “Don’t let him eat away at you like this, it’s not like you.”

“Exactly, so why does it bother me so much?” You pulled yourself up onto the counter.

“Well… you loved him. You’ve been together for so long—”

“We were together,” you corrected. “I kicked him out this morning.”

“Right, sorry.” He started placing clearance stickers on some books, “You were together for a long time, and it’s still so fresh to you.”

“That’s the thing, we were together for so long, and yet he still did that.” You jumped down, beginning to put away more books. “I just… I want to shake him off, pretend he never happened.”

It would be much easier to just ignore him, even if you knew it wouldn’t actually solve anything. Maybe it could, though. If he was never a part of your life, you would’ve never felt this pain.

“It’s just not so simple to move on from love like that. I wish it were, believe me, but it’s just not.”

“How could’ve that been love, though? I mean, isn’t love supposed to be this grand thing? Where you meet ‘the one’ and you care for one another deeply. You do whatever you can to help each other, to be there.” You scoffed, “There is nothing like that that exists.”

“Ouch,” Tom rested a hand over his heart, “does our friendship mean nothing to you? Would I not do those things for you?”

“It’s a completely different context, and I’ve known you for most of my life.”

“Okay, okay… but you shouldn’t just give up love because of this one bad experience. You know, I’m sure there are loads of other opportunities out there for you to see better examples of love.”

“Oh yeah? And how do you suggest I would find such ‘love’?” You raised a brow, he sounded so childish.

“I don’t know… I just think that love can happen anywhere, at any time. It’s not something that needs to be planned or to follow some schedule. It just… happens.” Tom smiled softly, “And love shouldn’t hurt, no, but sometimes it does. But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth the pain. Don’t get me wrong, Danny’s absolutely not worth the pain himself. But I don’t want your image of love to be ruined from just one guy.”

Tom was right about one thing, Danny wasn’t worth the pain. But that pain wasn’t love, and your relationship with Danny apparently wasn’t either.

“It’s a fantasy, Tom.” You turned away, “I mean, maybe some people find love, but it has to be rare. Most people probably just settle out of being tired of looking.” You felt that was true. “Love doesn’t just come waltzing through the door.”

“Well, no,” he sighed. “But that doesn’t mean love isn’t out there. It has to be, you know? And finding love is just that much more precious, because it’s so much harder to come by, if that’s what you believe.”

It sounded like a fairytale to you, how could he believe in such a thing? Maybe he was right that love existed, but it wasn’t like everyone was finding it. In your mind, there was simply no way it could be as common as Tom seemed to believe.

“Aren’t you just the love expert, what with your relationship with Destiny?” You teased.

His relationship with Destiny didn’t seem to be one of love to you, not that it was really any of your business. You worried for Tom and didn’t want him to end up in the same boat as you, though you hadn’t seen it coming before. Destiny just seemed so disinterested in him, which you hated for him. You never really said that to him, as you felt that would be completely overstepping. Still, you had hinted the thought at him, because you felt like you couldn’t just let it happen. She seemed like trouble.

Maybe your experience with Danny only gave you a better ability to see when someone was going to hurt someone in a relationship. That, or you just didn’t like her from the beginning, as Tom claims. Destiny seemed nice enough but you weren’t sure how much she cared for him. That was between them, though.

“I’m not an expert,” Tom denied. “I just think that you could find love again.”

“I don’t think I ever really did, and I’m not sure that I ever want to. It seems to be more of a waste of time than anything else.” You were so set on that idea.

Tom couldn’t understand why someone wouldn’t want to believe in love, what was to hate about it? He understood that you were likely trying to process countless emotions, but there was something about how you pictured love that he could never fully understand. Your version of love seemed to be somewhat more of a business transaction rather than what he believed.

“So, how are you going to magically get over this?” He straightened up his pile of books.

“I should just… leave. Get away from here.” You started to fix a random display, “It’s what I need, a break. From him, from this, from everything.”

“You? Take a break?” He laughed, “Right, sure. Y/n, it would be a true miracle for you to take a break.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You snapped.

You knew exactly what he meant. Anyone who talked to you for more than ten minutes knew what that meant, that didn’t mean you weren’t mad at him for pointing it out. Work was important to you, and you spent a lot of time in your shop. It took more to run it than people realized. Danny never understood.

“I just…” he shifted his gaze to his feet. “I just mean that… you’re a hard worker. A very… very hard worker.”

“Which is why I deserve a break!” You made your way back to the counter.

“You do deserve one,” he assured you. “I just meant it’s unlike you. But, you had planned to go on holiday with Danny, hadn’t you? You could still go.”

“Oh god,” you groaned. “I forgot about that. We were meant to come up with an entire plan for it, we had already put my flat up on Airbnb.” You were mentally beating yourself up for that one, suppose you’d have to take it down later. “We hadn’t even figured out where we wanted to go, we were so caught up in work. Well,” you scoffed, “I was caught up in work, and he was distracted with his receptionist.”

Tom offered a sympathetic smile, “You could still go on holiday. You said you wanted to just forget about it and that would be the perfect opportunity.”

He made a good point. It did seem to be the obvious answer to your problem. You could get away, clear your mind of Danny completely, and come back to move on with your life smoothly. Danny didn’t have to be a complication anymore, he didn’t even have to be a thought. Yet, at the same time, there was a part of you that felt like it wasn’t the best idea to just run away from your problems. But was it really running away?

“No one has reached out about the flat anyway,” you stated quietly. “Maybe it’s not such a good idea. Maybe that’s my sign to stay?” But were you even one to believe in signs? “I don’t know. I think I’ll just go to bed, do you mind locking up? You’ve got the keys, right?”

He jangled them in your direction, “Yep. See you tomorrow.”

You gave him a wave before making your way up to your house, just above your shop. Going on holiday seemed to be what you needed. Like he said, the perfect opportunity. It wasn’t like you though, he was right about that too. Maybe what you really needed was to create a new routine for yourself, one without Danny. To create a life for yourself where there was one less thing to focus on.

Opening your laptop, you went to check on your Airbnb account. No one had reached out still, which only pushed your thoughts more towards staying. After all, it was a possible sign to stay.

It felt ridiculous, to think anything like that was a sign. You didn’t listen to signs, you listened to facts, to what was right in front of you. The truth of it was that no one had reached out, you needed to just remove your home from the sight and continue on with your typical life. So you did, staring blankly at the screen after.

What was your typical life now? Were you supposed to just move on? If that was what you were really meant to do, you didn’t know if you could. You couldn’t lie, deep down you knew it hurt, and maybe that’s why you wanted to leave. But leaving would really do you no good, even if it was what you wanted to do. Instead, you would do what? Ignore them in a different way? Pretend it never happened, that Danny never existed.

Yes, that is what you would do. He didn’t deserve more of your time to be spent on him, he deserved to be forgotten. You didn’t know how you really could forget, especially as you sat surrounded by a life you built with him. How many trinkets around your living room were his? How many things did you get because that was what he wanted for his home? The pile of CDs in the corner were his own taste in music, most of which you could never really get into. Suddenly, everything around you felt wrong, like it wasn’t even your home at all.

Maybe you needed that holiday after all. You weren’t really sure what to do. Where would you go? Would you be able to leave the shop to Tom? Would it even really be worth the trip? What if it only stirred up some new form of emotions? You couldn’t go.

Your account popped up with a notification, someone was actually reaching out to you.

A woman named Iris messaged, “Hey, I was interested in your house! I don’t know if someone else rented it but I thought it was worth the shot. Is it still available? I’m sorry if it’s not. I just really liked your place! It’s okay if it’s not! Sorry! Thank you!”

Could be another sign, you thought. It still wasn’t something you really believed in though.

“Oh, sorry! I was renting it because I was planning to go on holiday with my boyfriend but plans changed. We broke up recently so I won’t be going anymore.” It was a fair enough explanation, though you weren’t sure that a stranger cared to know the reasoning.

“Oh, I’m sorry! why did you break up with him?” Or maybe she did care.

Another message came through quickly after the other. She felt as if she had overstepped, “I’m sorry you don’t have to answer that. I don’t know why I asked.”

You hadn’t really minded, a part of you wanted to completely vent to her. It wasn’t like you would ever meet her, so why did it really matter? Keeping to yourself was the wiser option, though, and it wasn’t like you had much to say about the situation.

“No, don’t worry! I guess it’s pretty complicated but long story short, he cheated on me.” Simple enough.

Iris’ reply caught you off guard, “Men are trash.”

She was right. Men are trash, and not worth anyone’s time. No use in crying over spilled milk, yet here you were with a shattered heart being held together by Paw Patrol band-aids.

“To say the least” you laughed to yourself.

God, were you really letting yourself sit in that pain? Furthermore, were you really letting yourself vent to a stranger on Airbnb of all things? You weren’t being yourself, not really. Not that you had been for a majority of the day though. Everything seemed off.

“I’m really sorry, I know how it feels. I was actually looking at your place to escape from a man myself. The love of my life, Chad, just got engaged.” An Iris fell in love with a Chad?

You couldn’t help but laugh again, at least someone else was going through some similar pain. His name was Chad, falling for a Chad was pain in itself. A part of you wanted to know more about Iris’ situation.

“Chad?” you wrote back.

“I know. It’s my fault for falling in love with a Chad. Lives up to his stupid name.” Though you had never spoken to this woman, you could hear the regret in her voice.

At least you hadn’t ended up with a Chad, but you weren’t sure that Danny was much better. “Well, I’m sorry that ‘Chad’ had to be the love of your life. It sounds like we both need to get away.”

You really had needed to get away, that was something you now knew.

“Definitely, but I’m gonna keep looking. I need to be at least 500 miles away from him.” She replied.

You couldn’t believe what you were about to say, and a part of you hoped that she would just sort of brush you off. Another part of you was hoping that she would reach out further. It did seem like a possibility, since she had reached out after it was removed.

“Maybe we could work something out?” You figured if you could at least commit to renting out your place that you would then commit to taking a holiday.

“Let’s switch lives like in The Parent Trap, although we’re not twins we’d be switching breakup lives.” You thought it could just be a joke, but it also seemed like an intriguing idea.

“Sounds interesting! Where are you from?” You asked, a bit hopeful.

This was not much like yourself, it seemed like such a crazy idea. You hadn’t traveled in a long time, and even then you had never traveled alone. Suddenly, it was all you could think of doing. It would mean escape, a new setting and a chance to give yourself a fresh start. You just hoped she lived far, far away.

She replied, “Astoria, Oregon. Pretty boring compared to London I guess.”

You gave it a quick Google, just to get an idea of what it was like. You hadn’t heard of it before, and it would put a pretty good distance between yourself and Danny. It was far, small, and unknown. The only things you really cared about.

“Not at all! All I care is that it’s far from here.” It was the perfect distance, really.

“Me too.” She replied.

You hesitated, unsure of what you were about to ask. “So, should we switch?”

“You’re serious? My place is nothing like yours.” So it was great then? Maybe the polar opposite of your current situation.

“Surely it’s not too horrible.”

“I have a kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, living room. That's it. And I’m not near a romantic location like yours. I do have a dog, though.” She was only making it more and more appealing to you. You wanted to leave the “romance” and you couldn’t imagine why she would want to run towards it.

“That’s perfect, I want far away from romance.” You had, really. You were never a big fan of the romance part of it all anyway, it seemed overrated at this point.

“Well, this is your chance.”

You paused to think, was this really the choice you wanted to make? You had been thinking about it all day, but having it suddenly becoming a reality was different, overwhelming almost.

“Can I ask you one thing?” It was the most important question you had.

After a brief pause she responded, “Sure.”

“Are there any men in your town?”

“Honestly? Zero.”

So it really was turning out to be the perfect escape. “When can I come?”

“Tomorrow too soon?” She seemed just as eager as you to get away.

You considered it, would it be an irrational decision? You knew that if you declined you would likely never really break away. Besides, Iris seemed to need it just as much as you did, if not more because of Chad.

“Tomorrow’s perfect actually.” Had you really just sent that?

Apparently you had, as she replied, “wait wait wait but like are you for real?”

Maybe? “Absolutely, or would it be too crazy?”

It was completely insane, but you were going for it. Like you had said, you would likely never have to talk to this person again, why not make yourself seem crazy?

“It is but I’m down for it, but like, okay do you want pics of my home or something so you don’t think I’m a creepy old man who might kidnap you?” Not the response you were expecting.

Still, you decided to roll with it. “Umm, yes actually :) that would be great”

“Okay, wait, want my phone number so we’re not talking over air bnb?” she asked.

You nodded gently to yourself, “Yes, I feel like that might be better.”

It felt strange to be doing such a thing. You were talking to a complete stranger, from a completely different country, about switching homes. And switching the next day, no less.

You weren’t really sure how, but your conversation had somehow managed to become more personal as it went on. After texting for a bit longer, and seeing pictures of her house, you both had decided to give each other a call over facetime. It was nice, kind of, in it’s own strange way, to be talking to Iris about it all. Sure, she seemed to have more faith in love than you did, but she still could understand where you were coming from to at least some extent.

So, yes, maybe you were ranting to a complete stranger about how your boyfriend had cheated on you. To be fair, she was also ranting to you about how the “love of her life” just got engaged to someone else. He seemed like a dick, truly. It made you wonder why either of you were letting men like Chad and Danny hurt the both of you, and they still were hurting you, really. It didn’t seem fair. If there was such a thing as love, why did you have to love them?

Iris seemed to have a tender heart. She spoke so delicately about love, and you swore she seemed to still want it even after what she had just gone through. You couldn’t imagine, you wanted to run from love. You wanted to leave it behind and forget that it was ever a thing. Yet Iris seemed to want to hold it close, and to possibly find it again. It was interesting to you, how differently the both of you viewed it.

The call had been going for what felt like hours, and you seemed to be learning more about Iris than you had ever truly known about Danny. She was a writer, and surely a lovely one at that. Apparently, Chad took advantage of that, though, among other things. He seemed to only care about Iris to the extent that she was there at his own convenience. Your heart broke more, you thought, but this time for Iris. Because, no, you didn’t believe in love. But she did.

Iris had this idea of love that you couldn’t understand. It seemed too fake, like it was pulled out of a movie or book. Iris thought that love was complex, that it could be found and more than once. Her idea of love seemed so far from your own, and you couldn’t picture why. Why would she still believe in something like love after what happened with Chad?

Really, it didn’t matter much. Maybe it was your vastly different views, but talking with each other seemed so easy. It was almost as if you were just talking to an old friend.

“So how long were you with him?” Iris asked.

“About four years.” It was a waste of four years. “What about you? How long have you loved Chad?”

You couldn’t help but poke fun at his name. Chad.

“Oh god it does sound super stupid,” she groaned. “But… Three stupid and miserable years, it’s a low point.”

You chuckled, “No, it’s not stupid. But, I can imagine how it would be a low point.”

“But like you told me—He blamed it on you?”

“He did.” You let your head rest in your hand, “He said I worked too much, and that I didn’t give him enough attention.”

Iris rolled her eyes, once again tired of Danny, a man she had never even met. “Fuck him, honestly, you’re successful bet he was intimidated by your success.”

“Hmm, I doubt it. He just seemed… bored of me.” You reached for your glass of wine, “I mean, he was right about one thing. I do spend most of my time at work, but that doesn’t give him any right to do that.”

She sat on her couch, wine in hand. “No. it doesn’t. Why—Why are men—Like—No, never mind that’s my question,” she pursed her lips jokingly, “why are men?”

You laughed, “Why are men indeed.” You couldn’t help but grin, “More specifically, why is Chad?”

“Ugh, don’t even mention him.” Iris let her head fall back, “He’s an asshole, can you imagine just a week ago he wanted to sleep with me?”

Chad was an asshole, and so his name fit him well. It was still hard, almost impossible, to see what she ever saw in him. Iris seemed so soft, and kind. You could tell that, sadly, Chad had really hurt her.

You spoke truthfully, “What I really have trouble understanding is why you ever wanted to sleep with him. Maybe his personality, but he seems like such a wad.”

She paused to consider, and it then left you in your own thoughts about it. A Chad was never deserving of an Iris, so you couldn’t help but wonder why. You figured, though, that she was like you with Danny. She likely didn’t know that Chad was a jerk, how could’ve she? Though the signs seemed obvious to you, you weren’t the one living that experience.

“Look—I—I believe in love at first sight and I don’t know, I guess—I saw the fantasy, you know?” She seemed to be lost in thought almost, like it was just coming out in full truth. “Thought we could—I don’t know, he was charming.” Aren’t they always? “I guess I wanted that, you know the whole love story, and he made me believe he could give it to me and then he just never—He only wanted sex and I fell in love. Pathetic right?”

You didn’t think it was pathetic at all. If anything, it was sweet. She truly seemed to believe that love existed, and if that was the case then she was speaking from a place of vulnerability.

“No, I don’t think it’s pathetic…” you took a breath in, “I think… well, I’ve come to the conclusion that love isn’t worth any cost. Not really, especially since it doesn’t even seem real.” And it didn’t, how could it? “Love makes people get their hopes up. It makes us… give too much of ourselves to other people, when we don’t even know what our future with them looks like.” And that was what you thought of it. Love was a chore, a fairytale, a loss. “But I don’t think it’s pathetic that you wanted to believe in something that only seems to come from fairytales, I just think that’s what most people do.”

“Love is worth it, though.” You likely seemed heartless to Iris. “It’s men who are the problem.”

That was something you could agree on. “Suppose you got me there…”

“But you like really don’t believe in love?” she wondered. “Then why were you with Danny? Didn’t you love him?”

Well, Danny. Your relationship with Danny seemed like love, but you weren’t so sure anymore. It couldn’t have been love if it only led to him cheating on you, no. Love wasn’t meant to have those sorts of complications.

“You know, I thought I loved him, and I thought he loved me.” You stared blankly, “But, I guess he just… didn’t. And it just made me realize that, even if love is real, it comes so rarely that I don't believe I would ever find it.” Which hurt a bit to say out loud. “I just don’t think most people do.” Your eyes flickered back to Iris, “Why have you put so much into it if you were hurt?”

“I think… I dunno, love isn’t a one time thing.” She sounded like Tom, which wasn’t necessarily bad. “I think the problem is I suffered from unrequited love, but I think I… I dunno, I think we get chances, not me though,” she scoffed and you offered a small smile, “but it’s… I don’t know, I think I’ve always read about love and I’ve always wanted that, and love is complicated, that’s it, I don’t think you can easily-I mean I do believe in a sort of thing like love at first sight but I mean, I believe in second chances, but like not for everyone. I guess I… I think there is such a thing as love I’m just… super unlucky and maybe that sweet fantasy of any Julia Roberts’ romcom isn’t for me, I’m destined to be a side character who gets no… attention.”

It was disheartening to hear her saying that. You didn’t believe in things like that, and you were normally so quick to fight Tom about it, but it just hurt to hear her talking about it. Iris believed in this full on Shakesperian love, so hearing her say something so somber was odd. You thought it couldn’t be true, because she seemed to be the main character, really. Her disheveled hair, multitude of snacks, and her glass of wine. While it may not be the “picture perfect” main character, it was a real one. That was exactly what you pictured when it came to a main character, so what made her think otherwise?

“Oh, come on Iris, that’s not true.” You sat up in your bed, “I mean, if you do come here then you’ll have plenty of opportunity to live a Julia Roberts movie. People seem to find this place so thrilling… I don’t seem to know much about love, or to really be the one to talk to about it, though…” You paused, this conversation was starting to sound too familiar. “You know, you should talk to my friend, Tom, if you come. I think you’d get along well, he gushes on about love all the time.”

She really might make good friends with him, they seemed to hold some similar beliefs.

“It is thrilling. I mean, it’s near Notting Hill,” you could hear the excitement in her voice, “I just need Hugh Grant and that’s it but…” Yeah, but. It was another thing that was out of reach. “You might come here and hate on love with my brother, he hates everything related to it.”

It didn’t come as much of a surprise to hear that yet another man hated everything related to love. It wasn’t that you thought all men did, but it did seem to be something you noticed in quite a few. And, honestly, you didn’t blame them. You were right there with them.

“Really?” You smiled, “He sounds better than most men already.”

Iris let out a laugh, “He’s not.” Big surprise.

“Aren’t siblings meant to support one another?” You asked.

She scoffed, “You’d think that. But no, he’s a man.” That was a fair point. “I don’t know who’s worse men who hate love or men who pretend to love love. Your friend is probably the second one.”

You knew what she was saying. You had been with a man that pretended to love love, sort of at least. And Tom, well, he was nothing like Danny at all.

“No, I don’t think so,” You shook your head. “He seems to really believe in it, maybe more than you.” Though you weren’t sure how he could more than her. “He’s really sweet, typically… I mean, he is a man so he has his days,” you joked.

“Oh,” she closed her eyes, “so… Right, right, but you don’t believe in love and…” whatever she was saying, you didn’t understand. “Right, right, Perfect setup, see?” What did that mean? “This town is perfect for you, nothing that has to do with romance. It’s a great way to get away from everything romance.”

You were a bit confused by her reaction, but decided to shake it off. “Then I can’t wait to go, really. I mean, it seems perfect for you here, too. You can surround yourself with things to remember the ‘fantasy’ of love again,” because that’s what it was, a fantasy. “So, are we really switching tomorrow?”

The question of the night. It still didn’t seem real, like you were just going to wake up the next day and your life would go back to normal, or whatever the new normal was going to become. Yet here you were, planning to swap houses with a… stranger?

“You think there are any flights?” Iris questioned.

“I’m sure there have to be some,” you shrugged. “Should we check?”

“Definitely.”

“Wonderful.” More like terrifying. “How long are we doing this for?”

Another thing to worry about. Overall, it wasn’t that you had this sense of panic. You felt more excited than anything if you were being honest, but a part of you recognized how irresponsible this entire situation was. Nevertheless, you pulled your laptop closer to you.

“Uh, depends, holidays are coming soon…” she made another good point. “So, even though I have no interest in spending Christmas here, what’s your idea?”

You wanted to get away. You didn’t have much family, nor did you want to gain pity from them about Danny. The entire point of leaving was to escape the basic thought of him. Tom typically had takeout with you and Danny on Christmas Eve, but that was something you could do in the states on your own if you wanted.

“Nothing is really keeping me here for it, honestly,” you said plainly.

“I’m just-- you’re okay with dogs, right?” She adjusted her camera to put a small pug in the frame. “Because little Tommy here is going to miss me.”

You smiled brightly at the puppy, “I’d love to take care of… did you say…” you held in a laugh, it was a bit funny considering, “L-little Tommy?”

“Yeah, his name is Tom.” Iris came back into frame, “He’s the only male that matters.”

“Oh, I love that.” You grinned, “I would love to trade Tom’s with you.”

She chuckled, “As long as I don’t have to feed that one.”

“I do hope that you don’t have to, he seems somewhat capable of caring for himself,” you joked. “Oh, by the way. He’ll be running my shop for me while I’m away, sometimes he stays later for work so if you hear him downstairs don’t worry.”

You had nearly forgotten to even mention that, would’ve been quite the surprise. And, you had also nearly forgotten that you would have to eventually tell Tom about this situation. Which would happen pretty soon, if you were to leave so soon. He’d surely think you were crazy.

“I probably won’t notice, honestly…” she looked off camera, “Okay so here’s a flight, can you believe there’s actually one for tomorrow?”

You scrolled around, “I found one too, shockingly enough…” Suddenly, it was real again. It was back and forth between the reality of it, and just the idea. “Are we really going through with this?”

It was a crazy plan. There wasn’t even an actual plan in place, not really.

“I think we are.” Iris sounded just as nervous you did, which was comforting in some way.

The feeling of excitement for a new beginning was what you were trying to stay focused on.

Still, you were a bit hesitant. “Well, alright then…”

“On three then….”

Were you really going through with this? It was completely crazy. When you were talking to Tom before about needing a break, this wasn’t exactly what you imagined. You seemed so nervous, and yet you continued to go through with it. You figured that it must’ve been what you truly needed.

“One…” were you really counting down?

“Two…” that was a yes, apparently.

“Three!”

It was too late to go back. You bought the ticket, it was happening. You were officially going to the States for holiday, and at Christmas no less. A part of you felt this wave of relief, while another part of you was still feeling very conflicted. But it was done, that was it. You just swapped houses with a complete stranger.

read iris’ version here

next chapter

#timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet x reader #tim chalamet x reader #tom holland x reader #christmas fic #timothée chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet imagine #timothée chalamet one shot #timothee chalamet oneshot #timothée chalamet x y/n #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet x y/n #timothée chalamet x you #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet #timmy chalamet #tim chalamet

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redrabbitspod · 4 years

Note

This is in no way meant to be rude or disrespectful and I am fully aware that you can do whatever you please but I feel like Neil is getting so out of character. He clearly started to develop more of an own personality but he definitely has been through so much and he is just so..cheery and happy and clingy all the time(which if you’re like that is in no way wrong or bad) and now he reminds me so much of Nicky in AFTG. It’s really hard for me to still see Neil.

OOC: This is very long, and while we think everything leading up to it is super important to our thought process (and yes this is something we’ve thought about) the bit in bold is the heart of the point we try to make. (Please read the whole thing though!)

Hey, I’m actually really happy that you sent this in because I’ve been wanting to talk about it. I know that there’s a post going around that we both wholeheartedly agree with about Neil reaching far past ooc and becoming very ‘fem’. Jeni and I had a really long talk about this because we were worried that our Neil would be perceived or mistaken to fit in that trope. And while I think your concern is EXTREMELY valid (note: people can write the characters however they want. It’s fanfiction, they can do as they please, like you said, we just did not want to go that direction), I have a few points as to why I disagree.

On surface I definitely get that. Idk if you’ve read the entirety of RRP, but I know for those of you that just read the asks (Im sure there are a lot), it DEFINITELY seems that way. But we went into RRP right off the bat letting people know that these characters will fundamentally be different. In Andrew’s case, we know he’s extremely soft now and we bring that up a LOT in the fic. Both himself acknowledging it and all the other characters around him. But we went in knowing he was going to be very different from canon - mainly because we took out the plotline that he was ever put on meds. In Wish You Were Here, the story we are writing post-season 2, we will be mentioning that and how we twisted it. Because in canon, that shaped his entire character. The medication changed the physiology of his brain and we hated the fact that something so abhorrent was forced upon him by the courts that we didn’t do it. And as a result, Andrew’s character is completely different because he’s able to tap into emotions that were blocked in canon. He’s able to grow in ways that he was not able to before and besides the fact that this is set a good while after college and especially his sophomore year that we saw in canon, he was going to change. We definitely know that them admitting that they love each other, making strides in their relationship both physical and mental, opening up, expressing, for his character may seem extremely ooc for some, but we had to take into account what would’ve happened if we took the thing that shaped his character in canon away. I hope we’ve done him justice.

Now onto Neil. Neil we work over a LOT. And when Jeni brought this up to me because of the post, there were glaring things in my mind that automatically said no. This doesnt apply to our Neil even though to some it may seem that way. Here’s what we’ve done at least very consciously to make sure that our Neil holds integrity to his canon character, that he holds merit and a backbone to back up how he’s grown throughout our series.

From day one, we knew that they knew each other. We knew that an event from the past not only shaped how Andrew approaches life, but how Neil does as well. Childish sentiment and nostalgia kept Neil in Arizona for so long, which we imply throughout season 1 and start the ball rolling in the first chapter. For the both of them, they held onto the boy they met at the Grand Canyon through everything they’d been through. When shit got tough, it was each other they thought of. And on some wild whim, Neil hoped one day Andrew would walk through the Book Nook’s doors and he’d see him again. Not because Neil had a crush, because he didn’t. But because Andrew was the embodiment of strength for him.

New York was really important to us. Neil standing his ground and letting Andrew know exactly what he’d done to him, was what the entirety of Season 1 and EVEN season 2 culminated and came back to. Neil being able to say no, fuck you asshole, and always express exactly how he was feeling, was so vitally important to us. ESPECIALLY when it came to Andrew. Those few weeks of New York we wanted to build a bridge if you will. Andrew’s intentions were always genuine and well-meaning and Neil knew that, but survival instincts and what’s been ingrained in him stuck. They started to have a little give when he came to realize that he felt something for the man before him. But he never lost that fight for himself. That HE has to ALSO be okay. And I think we see a lot in that trope of Neil that he loses the fight, the backbone, the integrity that makes his canon character so compelling (even if he is a martyr).

One thing we worried people would misinterpret was how fast we pushed their characters together. We definitely get that. In our world we didnt really have the luxury of really stretching it out like some may have, just because we were working with real-time. And honestly? As we wrote, the drive to push them together because they were so connected and intertwined just fell genuinely and organically. For us, it only made sense and not because of canon, but because of the story we’d written already. It made sense to us for Andrew to be the one to hold himself back and Neil be the one reaching out - Neil be the one exploring and beginning to recognize what want and really, agency over himself AND his wants, was. Neil was the one to ask for their first kiss here, Neil was the one to initiate them all afterwards, Neil was the one that asked Andrew to touch him, Neil was the one that asked what they were in Arizona, Neil was the one to bring up sex. And in return, Andrew was peeling away layers of himself, feeling accepted, and wanted, and understood in ways he’d never been before. And honestly? Feeling honored that they were both experiencing emotions in ways that they both never felt before. We see their relationship has an equal give and take, a push and pull. And I’m saying all of this because it’s honestly and truly really important for why we’ve made Neil’s character the way that he is.

Going into season 2, we knew that happiness could not last long. They both had things to sort out, they both had hurdles to hop over, bridges to cross, whole fucking oceans to swim. Before season 2 started, before we had anything written or really even solidly planned, we knew they had to break up. Jeni even had the scene written back in either july or august. We knew that in order to continue trying to give integrity to their characters and relationship, how far they’d grown but also that growth is not a linear path, we needed to break them up. And in the lead up to that, we made sure that Neil was not only looking out for Andrew or trying to, but that he was looking out for HIMSELF. Unlike in canon, he didnt automatically have the foxes - not in his head at least. Of course he knew he had a home there, he knew that he had friends, but they weren’t like canon because he didnt grow WITH them like he did in canon. In his mind, he really only had Andrew and if there was no Andrew, why stay? And when their fight happened we made sure that Neil had value enough in himself, care for himself, love for himself AND for Andrew that they couldn’t let this go on any longer. Neil left because he knew he deserved better. He knew Andrew needed help and he couldn’t provide it. And he held onto that. In fact, Andrew even held onto it himself:

“Is there no hope, then?” Andrew asked, unable to help himself.

Neil sighed and Andrew was grateful that he at least didn’t pretend that he didn’t know what Andrew meant.

“I don’t know, Dr- Andrew.” Was it possible for his chest to hurt even more? He wanted to curl in on himself, but settled instead for clenching the sharp corners of the pack of cigarettes in his pocket into the palm of his hand. He watched as Neil bit the inside of his lip and that little indent appeared. Maybe he feels it, too . “Part of me wants to say fuck it all and let’s just go home. I hate this... But I hate what you’ve been putting me through these last couple of weeks even more. I can’t do that again,” he stopped talking once more and inhaled a shuddering breath. “You broke my heart, Andrew. I know I sound dramatic and stupid, but I don’t know how else to say it and - I don’t know how to do this, for fucks sake.” He finally turned to him, but the eye contact was brief and before it was even there, it was gone. “I came into this knowing nothing about relationships and I know even less about breakups. I don’t know how to navigate this.”

“You think I do?” Andrew asked. He didn’t mean for it to sound so bitter, but there it was.

“I don’t know with you,” Neil shrugged. “I feel like you keep everything so close to your chest, that there are whole sections of you I’m missing. And listen, I don’t blame you. You should be able to choose what you want to share. But I can’t help that it makes things hard when you’re falling apart and I don’t know why...”

Andrew let go of the box and put both of his hands in his lap. Grinding his teeth together, he heard the beginning hum of Bee’s buzz , but took a deep breath to try and keep her at bay. Clearing his throat, he looked back to the stadium and that stupid orange fox paw, before he murmured, “What if I offer you a piece?” - suddenly and quickly said, it was as if his mouth was trying to outrun his mind, despite the second he took to contain it. He’d known this would eventually come - that he would have to do this. And besides, Neil deserved an explanation, even if they never got back together.

“Andrew-”

“I’m not offering with hopes that we’ll get back together right now, Neil. I’m working through shit the best I can. Therapy is helping, but I know it’s a process. I just know you deserve an explanation. And I haven’t wanted to tell you because it’s fucking horrific, but I was also afraid that it would send me even further down the spiral if I talked about it. Now that I have a space to vent through, I don’t think I’m so afraid of the fall.”

This part was so important to us for both Andrew and Neil’s character. And in the entire build up to the break up and directly after, Neil held onto the fact that they needed to talk. He kept bringing it up. Because he knew that if they didn’t it would escalate just like it did before.

“I wouldn’t risk being with you again if I didn’t think things would be different. I’m not better and to be honest? I probably wont ever be better. I’ve spent my entire life dealing with my shit by myself because that’s just how it was. I’ve avoided relationships because I never trusted anyone with my baggage and I didn’t think it’d be fair to pile it on someone anyway. So when it comes to talking about shit - I’m not used to that. Bee was the only person I’d ever told everything to, and she doesn’t even know all of it.”

“I know that,” Neil said, leaning forward as if to show Andrew how much he actually understood. If that was the case, Andrew believed him. “I know you, Andrew. I would never force you to talk about something you don’t want to. That’s not what I’m trying to do. But , I need you to work with me, and if not me, someone else. Don’t take it out on me when you’re going through shit that neither of us can control. It’s not fair and it makes me feel like I’ve done something wrong and I can’t fix it.”

Now. Now we’re up to your points. I promise all of this was important for me to explain, because I know there’s literally SO MUCH that we’ve written, that shit happening now can get in the way of everything that’s happened before to lead up to this.

We fully recognize that Neil is definitely happy. But he’s not happy-go-lucky and we tried really hard to make sure he didn’t lose his integrity - his backbone - the things that made Neil, Neil.

Something I realized throughout this series was that I was getting worried that the focus of season 2 was so heavily on Andrew. I was seriously worried about that. But then I realized that Season 1 was focused solely on Neil. Season 1, Neil was a fucking wreck. It was Matt AND Andrew comforting him, Matt and Andrew bringing him down, Matt and Andrew trying to protect him, take care of him, find him, search for him, all of that. But even through Neil’s horrific anxiety and all the bad shit that happened, it was still Neil that pushed himself up from the ground, pulled Lola back, and gave Andrew the in. It was Neil that fought with the doctors and nurses to see Andrew and make sure he was okay. Even still afterward though, it was Neil discovering and Neil understanding and a lot of Neil, Neil, Neil.

Season 2 is heavily focused on Andrew. We’ve already seen Neil’s story and his growth. Its Andrew’s turn to try and again, build his bridge to getting better. But with that, it was Neil that made the strides to speak and handle Ichirou, it was Neil that figured out things with his uncle, it was Neil that ultimately had the gun, brought Andrew for practice - took it out and demanded Andrew get behind him this time. It was Neil that looked Andrew in the eyes as the cops patted them down and desperately tried to tether them together. It was Neil that kept reassuring Andrew they were going home. It was Neil that snapped the moment the cop tried to put his hands on Andrew to show them where their things were when they left the prescient, and ANDREW that allowed himself to be pulled into Neil’s arms in that moment, because he knew that he was the one thing that was SAFE. It was Neil that held Andrew that night and Andrew that LET himself be held as he broke down.

That was one chapter ago. And we really tried to illustrate at the end that they have a life ahead of them now. They have a future - a future that is spread out and it’s bright and full of possibilities. They have a future where they can do what they want. They have a FAMILY. They have nieces, Aaron, Kate, Bee, the entire TFN team. Neil had nothing and now he has something. He has hope.

Promise Im coming down to the end omfg. This is why our Authors and End Notes are so fucking long i swear to fucking god.

This BTP chapter, we wanted to explore that fucking unbridled happiness. That elation of fuck - we have the world out in front of us. We don’t have any killers on our backs, Hailey is safe, Robin is safe, Jean is out, the Moriyama’s are taken care of, Stuart isn’t begging Neil to join the Hatford Branch, Aaron and Kate might be moving back to South Carolina, they’re married and all of that isn’t terrifying. It’s COMFORTING. So yes, this BTP chapter was bright and cheery. Neil was most certainly happy and showing it. Jumping on the bed, kisses all around, getting excited over ZOO BABIES and a ZOO CHOO train. But just because we show this side of him where he gets to go on a road trip and experience real and true fucking freedom for the first time, doesn’t mean that we’re all of a sudden shedding everything that we’ve built for his character. I don’t think that’s what you meant, but I mean it when I say we take the characters, the integrity of the characters, very, very seriously. Also in this chapter, Neil takes a homophobic asshole to task and not in the way that a lot of people do, but by quietly hinting at the threat because Neil doesn’t need bells and whistles. In fact, he even talked about how being happy was something his mother frowned upon:

Because the way he looked at Neil when a butterfly landed on his finger or when he snuggled up to a goat in the petting zoo let Neil know that Andrew was happy. And he was happy. That was something Neil never really had in his life. His mother didn’t care if he was happy, only that he was alive . In fact, the less happy he was, the fucking better. By her logic, he was less likely to go rogue if he didn't feel like there was something to be happy about outside of her.

Neil’s finally had a moment to enjoy and let go and we know exactly how that can come off, but we have an entire future planned for them and the book they’re about to explore. Spoiler Alert: It won’t be all “butterflies and rainbows”. But all of this does not mean that all of a sudden we’re giving in to tropes and changing his character entirely because of one chapter. RRP and it’s characters mean too much to us.

So I definitely get where you’re coming from and I’m so fucking sorry this is so long omfg. And I respect your view because we definitely worried that people would see them like that. But we have a reason for almost everything we do in this fic and really, we just wanted to see the boys happy here. We don’t believe he’s like Nicky and we don’t believe he’s clingy, but everyone interprets these characters differently, and you’re certainly entitled to that opinion. We hope this just makes our thought process on Neil’s development a little clearer. - The Creators

#Anonymous #red rabbits pod #ooc #rr answers 2

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danyka-fendyr · 4 years

Text

Back Up Baby

“Hi could you write a like angsty fluff with spencer were they broken up and the reader is pregnant then spencer finds out end they get back together? Sry if it it too specific”

Not too specific at all! Thank you so much for sending in this ask and being so patient while I wrote this. I hope you like it and that it’s kind of what you were hoping for.

Wordcount: 1.4k

Warnings: Angst, pregnancy

You let out a shaky breath, the grooves in the frigid tiles of your bathroom floor digging into your skin, leaving neat little lines. You wished your life was that neat, but alas, it was not. At the moment, everything was falling apart.

When you had broken up with Spencer 2 months ago, it had made sense. He had no idea you were pregnant, and you had no intentions of telling him. His job meant that he had to travel a lot, and he was under a lot of pressure, but you knew that he loved it. He lived for his work, to help people, and you would never want to take that away from him. So when you had found out you were pregnant, it seemed like a no-brainer. You would break up with him and he would move on and be happy.

What you hadn’t anticipated was that you would not move on and be happy. You didn’t realize just how much you had relied on Spencer until you were 4 months pregnant, starting to show, and definitely starting to feel the hormones.

Which brought you to now, lying on your bathroom floor, sobbing. You had just finished packing up the last of Spencer’s things that he had left at your apartment, and you were definitely not ready to give them all back to him. In truth, some naïve part of you was still hoping that he would just forget or decide they weren’t worth coming back for and leave you here to cry yourself to sleep curled up with the box of his belongings.

The knock on your apartment door startled you out of your funk, and you shook your head, telling yourself it was just hormones.

You cleaned yourself up quickly before heading over to open your door. You expected it to be some poor delivery worker needing you to sign for another 3 AM $30 candle purchase. You heaved the strap of your camisole further up your shoulder, as though it would cover your bra strap better, before giving up. The delivery guy wouldn’t care about your messy hair, baby bump or sweats. He could see it all for all you cared.

You immediately regretted that philosophy when you opened the door to Dr. Spencer Reid.

You froze as he took you in, scanning you from head to toe. You watched his eyes widen as he made it past your tearstained face to your mid-riff. Right about where-

“You’re pregnant.”

He said it breathlessly, more air than words, like his clever mouth couldn’t support the conclusion his brain had so easily come to. In the back of your mind you catalogued that you hoped this baby had his mouth, if it was a boy. You had refused to find out the gender, not wanting to know without Spencer.

“Maybe you should come inside.”

Great. You had defaulted to hostess mode. Maybe that was a totally normal thing to do when confronting your ex who also happened to be your baby daddy. You didn’t really have a frame of reference for this particular situation.

He seemed too shocked to disagree with you, numbly coming inside. You knew his quiet wouldn’t last for long. Spencer was a fast thinker, and you could see him thinking faster than ever now, eyes bright like the well-polished gears turning in his mind. You waited for him to process, but then realized there was one question he would definitely have that you had to answer. He deserved to know the truth about that at least. For all of your mistakes you weren’t that bad of a person.

“It’s yours,” you said quietly, wrapping your arms around what was, admittedly, not much, but kind of a lot to you.

“How…how long have you known?” He choked out, running a hand through his hair.

He stared up at you with wet eyes, and for a moment you were deeply afraid he was angry. You weren’t really sure what he felt, but anger would certainly be a reasonable reaction.

“2 weeks before I broke up with you,” you admitted.

It sounded even worse when you said it out loud.

“You knew? You knew and you still…”

Now you could tell exactly what he was feeling. Hurt. That was definitely hurt. You felt it too, tears pricking at your own eyes, these ones having nothing to do with hormones.

“You were…you were so involved with your job, and I knew you loved it. If I was pregnant, I knew you would pull back, do less. I couldn’t do that to you, Spence, I couldn’t. And I was…a part of me was afraid that you couldn’t do that to yourself. That you wouldn’t want this.” It was a quiet admission, shameful in its assumptions but true all the same.

You found it in yourself to meet his eyes after a long moment, and it was just as bad as you thought it would be. He looked betrayed, and it was worse knowing that he had a right to be betrayed. He had every right to be betrayed, his brown eyes disbelieving that you could even do something that terrible. You could hardly believe you had done it, and you knew there was no way he could want you now. If he had been on the fence between you and his job before, you had sealed the deal by lying to him like this.

“I’ll just get your things,” you said, swallowing back your tears. It felt like swallowing knives. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this. I’m sorry for lying to you. I understand you don’t want anything to do with me now-”

“How could you think that?”

Pain dripped off every syllable, and you shut your eyes to it.

“I know what I did, Spencer. I wouldn’t want me around after that either.” You refused to look at him, picking up the box of his things.

He yanked it out of your arms, setting it back down on your couch.

“How could you think I wouldn’t want this? That I don’t want this? If you know what you did then why try to make decisions for me again? Because that was the problem the first time. The lies were bad enough, but making my choices for me? That’s the worst part.”

You couldn’t help it, and you blamed it on the pregnancy hormones. You started crying in earnest, and Spencer, good, kind, sweet Spencer caught you in his arms.

“I was just so scared,” you admitted. “And I know that’s not an excuse, and I’m so sorry Spence. I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” he whispered, his anger washing away with your tears. “We’re going to figure this out, okay?”

“We?” you asked.

“Yeah. You think I would make you do this alone?”

You pulled back to look at his face, the face you loved so much.

“It’s what I deserve.”

“What you deserve is support and love. You were absolutely wrong to make my decision for me, and not just because my decision would have been to stay. Not just because my decision still is to stay. I played a part in this too though. I should never have put you in a place where you thought my work was more important to me than you, or that I would leave you because of this. If you want me back, I’m here. As a boyfriend or just to support you. I’d like to be involved in whatever way you’d allow me.”

You laughed a little bit in relief. “Do you still have all those pregnancy books from when JJ was having Henry?”

“Memorized.” He tapped his head.

“I do want you back. I’ve wanted you back since the moment you walked out. I missed you every second, and it never got better. I’m so in love with you Spencer. I don’t want to do this with anybody else but you.”

“I love you,” he said, kissing your forehead before moving down your face to your lips.

He folded you into his arms, and you rested your head on his shoulder. For the first time in months, you could relax. You didn’t have to do this alone. For all the terrible things your pregnancy had brought you, you had a feeling your future was bright. For the first time in a long time, you felt good. Finally, everything was right with your world.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #mgg #spencer reid oneshot #criminal minds #spencer reid fic #matthew gray gubler #tw pregnancy #request #crazyforsstuff

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jaskiers-sweetkiss · 4 years

Text

Sunset Swerve - Part 10

Pairing: Luke x OC

Word Count: 5.3K

Warnings: some swearing, i actually think that’s it for this part?

A/N: Okay here’s part 10, or as I’ve been calling it: Part 9 2: Electric Boogaloo. This is a very special edition of Sunset Swerve in which you get to read from Luke’s POV! This is covering the same time frame as part 9 but Luke’s pov provides some different scenes and new insight that’s kinda significant so I would really recommend not skipping it lol. I wanna shoutout @meangirlsx for being my sounding board and giving me loads of help on these two parts! As always, send me a message/drop a comment if you want to be tagged and let me know what you think!

Part 9 Masterlist

___

The week started off great for Luke. He was coming off the high from their performance at the open mic time and the relief that Julie didn’t have to quit the band. The latter fact also absolved him from his guilt of having suggested that Julie sneak out in the first place.

He found himself spending a lot of time with Jordan in the following days between talking about the book he’d started (she had been right, Annabeth was really cool though he maintained that she was stuck-up) and writing music. Their relationship had become much more civil following his birthday, though the fighting didn’t stop. Luke was starting to wonder if Jordan could survive without regularly making snarky or sarcastic comments. Still, the newfound closeness had been… nice. Luke wasn’t entirely sure how to categorize it, especially alongside the feelings he was certain he had for Julie.

As he sat across from Jordan, close enough that their knees were touching as they worked through some rhythms on a new song, Luke found that he wasn’t certain of anything. Jordan felt like a magnet- he realized belatedly that she always had- constantly pulling him closer and closer no matter how much either of them tried to pull away. He was starting to wonder if learning metaphors at book club was really a good thing.

“Hey Luke, can I ask you about something?” Julie pipped up from the entryway of the garage, pulling him away from his thoughts and Jordan.

“Sure, what’s up?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow quizzically.

“Oh, um, actually can we talk outside?” She asked and he furrowed his brow but nodded, setting down his guitar and jogging over to where she stood by the doors.

“This is gonna sound weird but can I ask why Jordan was with you at your house the other day?” Julie asked unsurely once they were outside and Luke froze, not expecting the question.

“How’d you…?” He trailed off, peering at the girl suspiciously. He hadn’t told anyone that he made frequent visits to his house, though he suspected the guys knew and Jordan had figured it out on his birthday.

“Alex and Reggie took me…” Julie said, tucking her hair behind her ear embarrassedly. “After I called you selfish and said you didn’t care about anyone but yourself…”

“That’s ironic coming from you, Miss Boundaries,” he scoffed irritatedly, brows furrowed in anger and Julie sighed.

“I’m really sorry Luke, it was wrong.”

“But now you wanna snoop even more,” he frowned, raising his brows as if to say ‘seriously?’

Julie opened her mouth to defend herself but Luke cut her off with a sigh before answering her question.

“If you must know, Jordan and I have spent every birthday together since we were five, I guess she figured I could use the comfort and familiarity.” He shrugged, trying to downplay how much the gesture had meant to him. It’s been really difficult, grieving his loss of his parents while they grieved him even twenty-five years later. At least when he was a runaway there was still always the possibility of reconciliation. Now there never would be.

“That’s really thoughtful,” Julie said, “But it doesn’t make sense. You guys hate each other, what happened?”

“Oh, we always have,” he smirked to himself, remembering that first day they met. He’d found a massive spider in the yard and thought it would be funny to put it in her hair, obviously, she hadn’t felt the same and the rest was history. “But our parents really wanted us to be friends so… birthday parties.”

“That explains a lot, actually,” Julie nodded thoughtfully and now it was Luke’s turn to be confused, tilting his head in a silent request for the girl to explain. “You guys have these moments where you like, exude this closeness that totally doesn’t fit the nature of your relationship. It makes sense now, knowing how long you’ve known each other.”

“I mean, there was a point where we were basically the closest thing to family each other had,” Luke shrugged, thinking about those last five months in the studio. “Guess we forgot about that when we died.”

They’d grow inexplicably close in those months that they’d lived together. It was an unspoken closeness, neither of them dared to acknowledge it but Luke saw it often in the little things. They’d stopped calling each other names when it was just them in the garage and sometimes when he was stuck on a new song he was writing she’d shout out suggestions from across the room. It was like they’d called an unconscious truce in their grief but when they came back as ghosts that all disappeared, the two immediately back at each others’ throats.

When Luke returned to the studio after his conversation with Julie it had sort of felt like the same thing had happened again. He’d thought he was finally making headway with Jordan, that they’d finally started back on the path to friendship after his birthday, or maybe even something more, and while things hadn’t totally changed, they felt different somehow.

She’d stopped hanging out with him in her free time. Instead, she spent the time holed up in the corners of the studio with her notebook or sitting behind the piano or her guitar, playing or strumming as she hummed softly. Luke wanted to help her out or tell her she sounded beautiful but he couldn’t help but notice how secretive she was being. They’d been working on songs together recently but this one she seemed determined to keep to herself.

When he entered the studio one afternoon to find her notebook on the couch, completely unguarded he couldn’t help himself. He blamed his overwhelming curiosity for why he picked it up despite knowing first-hand how sacred a song journal was.

When he found the partially written song at the back of the notebook he sucked in a breath, chest filling with hope at the lyrics on the page. It wasn’t much, only one verse and a chorus and what looked like half a pre-chorus but he couldn’t help but wonder if it was about him.

[Verse ?]

Bored of games why do you still play?

Back and forth, it’s always the same

You’re player one, I’m player two, who is she, player who?

Roll the dice and make your way

Pre-chorus

I know I’m hard but that’s part of it

You could leave but you are still here

and I’ve nowhere to go but ???

His mind whirled as he tried to work it out for himself. It screamed jealousy to him. She’d started writing after he’d had his conversation with Julie, so it wasn’t an unreasonable guess that he was “you” and Julie was “she.” She was jealous of him and Julie. But was it platonic? Was it more than that?

He was pretty sure he’d lost his damn mind in the hurricane of questions racing through his brain. It was the only explanation for the pure stupidity of what he did next.

“Moss, what’s this?” He asked when she found him with her notebook. Then he started to read off the chorus,

“I’m selfish, I’m selfish, I’m selfish

when it comes to you.

I can’t help it, can’t help it

crazy things that I do.”

“Give it back,” she snapped, cheeks flushing in what he later recognized as a mix of embarrassment and anger but at the time his brain ignored entirely, too caught up in an unthought-out attempt to confront her feelings.

“When I need you I come back to you.

I’m selfish, I’m selfish

when it comes to you.”

“I’m serious, Patterson. You don’t see me poking around in your notebook,” Jordan argued, grabbing hold of the notebook but not pulling it out of his hands.

“You don’t see me leaving my notebook lying around.” His body and his mouth were moving on autopilot but without a GPS as he responded cheekily, letting go of the notebook. Somewhere in the back of his mind, his rational brain was screaming at him to shut up but he just kept talking. “Who’s it about?”

“None of your business.”

Though his brain was on a self-destructive warpath, he couldn’t help but notice how adorable Jordan looked hugging the notebook to her chest protectively. Though, the adorableness factor was negated slightly by the death glare in her eyes.

“I think it’s about me,” he announced smugly, leaning back against the couch haughtily as if daring her to contradict him.

What the hell are you doing, man?

“I think you’re a dumbass,” she spat, and just like that she was gone, poofing away.

He leaned forward, putting his head in his hands with a groan as he realized what he did.

For the next day and a half, he could feel how the atmosphere between them had grown frigid. He’d tried to apologize a few times but every time he got close she would poof away, clearly not wanting to hear from him. What interactions they did have in those couple days were short and snide, laced with venom and insults. The behavior didn’t seem out of the ordinary to the rest of the group, but to Luke, it felt like he’d just stepped from the warm beach into ice-cold water and it was all his fault.

Luke was on the brink of losing his mind again when he went out on a limb that night. He, Alex, and Reggie were about to go out exploring like they did most nights after all the lifers went to sleep and he really wasn’t keen on leaving Jordan in the studio to stew in her anger.

“C’mon, Moss, we’re going exploring!” he called up to the loft. Deciding he’d given her enough space, it was time for ambush mode.

“And why would I want to go anywhere with you?” She called back venomously, not even deigning to come to the railing of the loft or poof down to speak to him face-to-face.

He sighed, clenching his eyes shut briefly before exhaling heavily and speaking.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright?” He called back, wishing he wasn’t doing this in front of Reggie and Alex. “I shouldn’t have gone through your notebook, it was a dick move.”

Luke was surprised at how quickly she forgave him, poofing down only moments after he apologized. He stared at her surprise, his body more relaxed now that she was spending time with them again. He hoped Alex and Reggie weren’t watching him, afraid they might somehow see the pure relief and adoration that he felt for her. Maybe he was being dramatic, but he swore he stopped breathing when she finally turned to look at her. He was totally screwed.

___

The next morning was quiet, though it felt like everything had gone back to normal. Jordan was sprawled across the couch which Luke had stopped trying to claim possession over, it was his couch but at this point, it might as well have been hers. Alex was sitting across from him making a friendship bracelet that he secretly hoped was for him but thought might’ve been for Willie, and Luke was reading his book. Things were really starting to pick up in the characters’ quest and he was apparently so invested that he barely recognized Reggie’s arrival until he heard the word “gig.”

Just like that he was on his feet along with Jordan and Alex, quest entirely forgotten as they all started blurting out questions.

“Where?”

“When?’

“How?”

Reggie excitedly explained how they were having a garage party at the house so that their band could perform and Ray and some of his colleagues would record them professionally for the band’s YouTube. Then Reggie patiently explained what a YouTube was and Luke briefly wondered when he’d learned more about modern technology than the rest of them. He supposed Julie did give him that iPod.

“We’re gonna record a music video? Like on MTV?” He exclaimed excitedly after Reggie had explained.

“Yes, dude! And Julie says if we get enough views we could go big!”

Luke gaped at his three bandmates, trying to come up with a vocalization for the thoughts flying through his head. All of a sudden there was a lot at stake for this event, the whole world would be able to see their performance. It had to be perfect. They needed to practice, hell they needed to pick a song.

He needed to talk to Julie.

When he reappeared in the school hallway he realized he probably should’ve told the group where he was going but it was too late now.

“What’re you doing here?” Julie asked him after getting over the initial shock of his sudden appearance.

“We need to talk about what song we’re gonna play tonight,” Luke said excitedly, grinning at the girl. “I was thinking Great?”

Julie held up a finger to signal she needed a moment before pulling out her phone.

“Wait seriously? You’re just gonna take a call while we’re talking? That’s so rude!”

Julie rolled her eyes at his dramatics before explaining, “Otherwise people might think I’m talking to myself.”

“Right, nice, okay,” Luke nodded, impressed by her quick thinking.

It was strange to be back in a high school hallway after so long, chatting with a cute girl by the lockers. The thought immediately brought the image of Jordan. Wow, he was really screwed.

“But yeah, I think Great is a… great choice,” Julie answered his question and he nodded, satisfied with the choice.

“Alright, sweet! Well, that was pretty much all I wanted to talk to you about so…”

“Oh! Okay,” Julie said, surprised.

“Actually wait- I wanted to talk to you about Jordan,” He started. He knew he and Julie had something between them but with these rising feelings about Jordan he’d been experiencing he didn’t want to lead her on. “Look, I, uh, I don’t really know how to say this but-“

“You have a crush on Jordan!” Julie gasped, effectively cutting him off.

His cheeks turned red and he scratched the back of his neck embarrassedly.

“Yeah- I mean, I don’t know but…”

“But you don’t want to hurt me,” Julie finished and Luke raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Wow, you are really perceptive Molina,” he said and she smiled.

“You don’t have to worry about me-“

“Sorry, my Patterson Idiocy Meter was going off,” Jordan explained as she suddenly appeared beside him, effectively putting an end to his conversation with Julie. “It lets me know when he’s doing something especially stupid.”

Luke rolled his eyes at the comment, sticking his tongue out petulantly at the girl and Julie gave him a knowing smile.

“Anyway,” Luke said dramatically, rerouting the conversation and turning back to Julie. “I was thinking, you should just ditch school today and come rehearse with us.”

He probably should’ve anticipated both girls’ protests but he still found himself trying to rationalize what he knew was a bad idea.

“Right, you were at school first, and now you’re leaving to go rehearse.”

“Stop trying to persuade her to do bad things!” Jordan chastised him, smacking his shoulder lightly.

“I really can’t. Plus I promised Nick I’d be his dance partner…” Julie explained, and Luke noticed Jordan wiggling her eyebrows at the mention of the name. He was clearly missing something.

“…and he’s heading this way,” Julie finished, pretending to hang up the phone in favor of talking to the blond-haired boy who just walked up.

“Well don’t you look sharp!” Julie’s reaction to his teasing told him all he needed to know about her feelings and the boy was not being sly about his at all. “Uh-oh, I think somebody’s got a crush on Julie!”

He couldn’t help it. It’s the designated role of all close friends to make fun of each other for their crushes. He knew by the way Julie had reacted when he’d told her about his (well, tried to tell her) that she was never going to let him hear the end of it. So, he dove right into it, mimicking Nick’s motions and facial expressions all with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Oh he is just too cute,” he teased when the blond lifer finally walked away.

“Boundaries,” Julie reminded him with a roll of her eyes. “I’ll see you after school.”

She began walking away towards her class but Luke wasn’t ready to end the conversation.

“Fine! I guess we’ll just have to carry you tonight, just like we always do!” He called down the hallway and he could see Julie shake her head slightly in exasperation. “I know you’re smiling, Molina!”

“Shut up, Luke,” Jordan rolled her eyes, smacking his chest lightly and he sent her a cheeky grin. “Good luck Julie! You’ll do great!” She called after the girl and Luke awed internally at the support.

“Yeah! Kill it on the dance floor!” He joined in, shuffling smoothly across the floor as he yelled.

“Dork,” he heard Jordan mutter and he snapped towards her, feigning upset despite how pleased he was at the attention he was getting.

“C’mon, we’ve gotta get rehearsing,” he spoke, brushing off the dramatics but she waved him off.

“I’ll be right there.”

He frowned, wanting her to come with him but he poofed away anyway, landing back in the garage between Reggie and Alex.

They immediately got to work, Luke walking them through Great. He felt bad doing it without Jordan since it was really her and Julie’s song more than anything, but he really wanted them to sound as best as they could. It was her song and they needed to do it justice.

They’d only just gotten through the basic structure and Jordan’s plans for the song, which she’d scribbled into the margins of his notebook pages while they worked on it together, when they were interrupted by a face in the window.

“Again? What’s all that about?” Reggie asked when Willie’s face disappeared from view, the boy clearly knowing he’d been caught.

Luke shrugged in response, just as lost as the rest but Alex stood, seemingly determined to get answers this time as he poofed out.

Despite their typical itch to snoop, the two boys gave Willie and Alex their privacy, instead moving over to their respective instruments to tune and warm up while they waited.

Luke could tell something was off when Alex returned but the blond-haired ghost had gone straight for his drumset, insisting that they start rehearsing. So, Luke didn’t push it, until about halfway through the song Alex got a little too into his drums, no longer playing along.

“Alex are you alright?” He asked sincerely once he’d stopped playing.

“Yeah... yeah, why?” Alex asked, trying to brush it off but Luke and Reggie had already connected the dots.

Alex only ever played like that when he was upset and since he was in a good mood before Willie showed up, it wasn’t difficult to figure out.

“I know it’s tough man. People say you never forget your first ghost.” Reggie spike sympathetically, “but... I’m sure there will be others.”

“Yeah, thanks Reg,” Alex nodded and Luke stepped forward, clutching his guitar strap as if to brace himself. He wasn’t very good at expressing things outside of music.

“Yeah, and Alex, you’re a great drummer and a great guy, okay?” He said, leaning onto the drumset slightly as he spoke. “I wouldn’t let all that stuff get in between you and what you love.”

Alex nodded and Luke finally noticed Jordan’s presence in the studio. He’d started to take steps in her direction to ask when she’d gotten there when Reggie spoke up again.

“I don’t know, sometimes a little fire onstage can make things better,” he said suggestively and Luke froze in the center of the band setup. “Like you and Julie.”

His head immediately snapped towards Jordan, trying to gauge her reaction to the statement. He was already certain she thought there was something between him and Julie, she’d written a whole song out of jealousy after all, but he needed her to know that wasn’t true.

“Uh, what... what is that supposed to mean?” Luke asked, trying to play innocent and hoping Reggie would get the hint and back off.

“C’mon, everyone can see the way you look at her when you sing,” Reggie chuckled, clearly not understanding. “You guys ooze chemistry.”

“Please never say ooze again,” Alex said to Reggie before turning to Luke, “But you have to agree he’s right.”

“No, no.” Luke denied vehemently, chancing another nervous glance at Jordan only to find she had become suddenly very interested in her shoes. “I have chemistry with everyone I sing with.”

It felt like a reasonable excuse to him, and it wasn’t exactly wrong. He did have chemistry when he sang with people, but it wasn’t because of the person, it was because of the music. Still, Reggie and Alex gave him looks of disbelief and he huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Seriously, watch,” he said, taking a determined step towards Jordan. Sure he was trying to prove a point to the guys, but maybe he could prove something else to himself and Jordan.

Still, before he could even take another step she stopped him.

“You’d better take that step back,” she demanded, not even looking up from the floor and his heart sank.

He shook it off with a sigh, still determined to prove his point to the guys. So he turned on his heel, confidently stepping towards Reggie as he began to sing.

“I believe, I believe that we’re just one dream away from who we’re meant to be.” When he got close enough, he slipped his hand around the back of the bassist‘s neck, pulling their faces even closer together. “That we’re standing on the edge of… great.”

He winked at the boy when he finished and stepped back, watching with a smirk as Reggie gulped. Mission accomplished.

“Wow,” Alex remarked, “I see chemistry.”

“Yeah, that was pretty hot,” Reggie admitted, voice cracking as he spoke.

Riding on the high of his success, Luke took it one step further, kissing two of his fingers before placing them on Reggie’s lips. When he heard a giggle from behind him he whirled around to grin at Jordan, elated that he could turn her mood around. She rolled her eyes in response but he didn’t care. He was starting to think maybe they were a sign of endearment from her with how much she did it.

“Girls, amiright?” Reggie croaked out and Luke chuckled.

“Yeah,” he agreed and Alex quickly chimed in.

“No,” the drummer said definitively with a light chuckle.

Jordan barked out a laugh at that, poofing over to the drummer to give him a high five before poofing back to the front of the band setup. Luke shook his head at that, ducking his head to hide his smile as he slipped his guitar strap back across his body.

Practice went smoothly after that, though Jordan and Reggie insisted on messing around until Julie got there. He felt kinda lonely with Jordan now hanging out on Reggie’s side of the setup but it was worth it to see her smile and hear her laughter. He didn’t even have the heart to tell them to take this practice seriously since they had a performance tonight. When the hell did he become so whipped for a girl he wasn’t even sure liked him back?

He couldn’t begrudge them their fun, even screwing around Jordan and Reggie were some of the best musicians he knew and it was obvious when Julie got there. They only had an hour of true, focused rehearsal with the whole group yet it sounded amazing. Still, Luke was nervous. If he’d had his way, they would’ve practice until it was perfect but he knew that wasn’t reasonable.

Luke was bummed when Jordan left to get ready in Julie’s room. He figured they needed their “girl time” or whatever but- though he’d never say it out loud- watching Jordan do her makeup had become part of his pre-performance routine and he was a bit fascinated by the whole ordeal. Instead, he spent the time leading up to their performance reading his book or talking with Alex and Reggie.

Luke’s nerves didn’t present themselves outwardly as much as Jordan’s did. It was something he’d noticed back when they’d both started performing. When Jordan got nervous she moved, flicking and shaking her hands, bouncing in place, anything to stop her standing still. Luke, on the other hand, internalized his nerves. He would become uncharacteristically quiet the closer he got. When he first started performing for crowds his hands would tremble, something he’d had to figure out how to counteract pretty quickly because it’s really hard to play the guitar with shaky hands.

Still, pre-performance nerves were when his insecurities popped up the most so when he looked up and saw Jordan, Alex, and Reggie all holding hands in the garage while Julie started the song, he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He probably looked like a kicked puppy but he felt like one. His bandmates had left him out of something.

As if reading his thoughts, Jordan reached her hand out to him in a silent invitation to join whatever pre-show ritual they’d started without his knowledge. As soon as he took her hand he understood why they did it: silent solidarity. A small but strong reminder that they were in this together. Then Jordan squeezed his hand lightly, giving him just enough time to squeeze back before they were poofing onstage, well, onto the driveway.

Julie and Jordan were electric in center stage and all five of them were sounding great (no pun intended). Everything was going perfectly until Luke nodded his head at Jordan, silently asking her to come share his mic but she pointedly ignored him. Luke furrowed his brow in confusion as she angled her body away from him as she picked up the next verse.

Maybe it was a mistake, he thought, trying it again as he and Julie joined her vocals.

“Sometimes we gotta lean, lean on someone else to get a little help until we find a way,” they sang together, and Luke frowned slightly. Those lines had always made him think of Jordan, especially after his birthday and it hurt extra that she was ignoring him.

He tried to ignore the stab of jealousy he felt when she moved to the other side of the setup to sing to Alex by focusing on the music and singing with Reggie but it didn’t fully work. He still wanted her attention and he wanted to know why he wasn’t getting it.

His wounded puppy eyes were fully intact when he stepped up beside where Julie crouched on the piano to play his guitar solo. She gave him a sympathetic smile before shrugging lightly, seemingly understanding why he was upset but also unaware as to why he was being shunned. It made him feel a bit better, at least he wasn’t the only one in the dark. As the section came to an end he noticed her eyes flicking out to the crowd and followed them, spotting a familiar blond. He sent her a teasing wink as he hit the last note and she stood fully on the piano in what was a truly epic moment. That girl was a performer through and through.

He slid back to his microphone behind the piano, still hurt but pushing it aside to finish out the performance. Now really wasn’t the time to get lost in speculation and self-pity.

He was surprised when he and the guys returned to invisibility only to see Jordan still out there, singing and playing along with Julie. It was clearly a beautiful and emotional moment for the two and he wondered when they’d planned it. Still, that wasn’t his first question when he finally got time to talk to the ghost girl.

“Hey, so, how come you were ignoring me out there?” He asked her after the lifers had evacuated the driveway.

Reggie and Alex were playing some basketball on the hoop hanging from the garage door while Jordan was perched on the ledge at the end of the driveway, scribbling into her notebook.

“What are you talking about?” She asked, looking up to stare at him in confusion.

“During the performance… I wanted you to come sing with me…” he spoke, leaving pauses in hopes that she’d catch on and put him out of his misery but she never did. “C’mon Moss, I did the head nod and everything!”

“Those were for me?” She exclaimed, looking at him like he’d lost his mind, “I thought you were trying to get Julie!”

He felt the relief wash over him with those words. So it was just a simple misunderstanding.

The relief was short-lived, however, as the four of them were suddenly struck through with another jolt, sending the three guys sprawling to the ground and Jordan doubling over.

“Jesus fuck,” he heard Jordan curse as she clutched her chest and he groaned in agreement, pushing himself off the cement.

“That wasn’t like the other ones,” he said, “It’s getting worse.”

“Why is this happening to us?” Reggie asked, still bent over as he recovered.

“It’s because you guys are in serious trouble,” Willie answered, nervously approaching the four ghosts. “We need to talk.”

They all nodded in agreement, silently moving together before Willie poofed them to Hollywood.

They followed him along the Walk of Fame as he explained all about how Caleb’s stamp was the reason the jolts kept happening. That he’d stamped them to force them to work for him because they were too powerful.

“So, if we don’t join his club, the weird power outage thing continues until there’s no power left at all?” Reggie asked, crossing his arms over his chest nervously.

“Yes,” Willie answered, not meeting any of their eyes.

“What exactly happens when the power goes out?”

“That’s… that’s it. You’re done.”

Luke heard Jordan suck in a breath beside him, freezing in her tracks and the rest of the group slowed to a halt.

“Yeah, what do you mean by ‘we’re done?’” Reggie asked the question none of them wanted to hear the answer to.

“You just… you don’t exist… anymore. Not anywhere.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jordan slap a hand over her mouth as if to cover up a sob. He knew she was thinking about her parents, how she’d never see them again because of this and his blood began to boil.

“So what, we have to give up everything and work for Caleb for eternity?” He spat angrily, “That’s some club you guys got going on.”

He took a step back, reaching down discretely to grab Jordan’s hand, hoping to provide her with any kind of comfort and support.

“But there is another way,” Willie explained, “That’s why I’m here.”

“Another option?” Alex asked skeptically.

“Just please, hear me out.” Willie pleaded, and Luke shared a look with the other guys. “Alright. If you guys could figure out what your unfinished business is, you do it in time, you could cross over and be free from all of this.”

“Okay, so what’s our unfinished business?” Luke asked, squeezing Jordan’s hand reassuringly. He’d figure it out just for her.

“I don’t know,” Willie said. “But since you all died at the same time it could be something you all have to do together.”

Luke’s mind began whirling, trying to figure out what it could be. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he barely registered Willie departing, or Alex and Reggie talking.

“We have to figure out our unfinished business,” he insisted, finally joining in on the conversation.

“Yeah, man, and how are we supposed to do that? Alright?” Alex asked frustratedly. “There was so much we wanted to do.”

The combination of Alex’s words and him noticing the sign in the background brought upon Luke’s epiphany.

“Yeah, but the night we died, there was only one thing we wanted to do together,” he explained, pointing towards the Orpheum sign with his free hand.

Part 11

___

JATP Taglist: @meangirlsx @morganayennefertyrell

Sunset Swerve Taglist: @oopsiedoopsie23 @angryknightstatesmantrash @onlygetaway @deni-gonzalez @advicefromnixxxx @brooke0297 @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @cordeliascrown

#jatp #jatp fic #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms fic #luke patterson #luke patterson fic #luke patterson x oc #luke jatp #jatp luke #julie molina #jatp alex #alex mercer #nick jatp #jatp nick #reggie peters #jatp reggie #sunset curve #sunset swerve

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alkhale · 4 years

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Shoot the Ball Pt.2 (Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader) Ko-fi request

Hi. Could I get a ushiwaka trying to hopelessly flirt with a clueless OC? I requested Shoot the Ball and I am in love with what you did (and basically everything else you wrote and will write) thanks!!! ❤️❤️❤️

Aaaaa I love your writing!! Would it be possible to get a part two of the Shoot the Ball (Ushijima x Reader) fic?? That story is so fucking adorable and Id love to see more of Ushijima and the readers relationship (maybe throw in a confession or something in there)?

It’s here on AO3 if that makes for easier reading too! More to come!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24551512/chapters/59287438

Shoot the Ball Pt. 2

“Um, senpai, are you alright?”

You laughed, almost a bit haughtily. “Alright? Of course I’m alright, what are you talking about?”

You hardly looked up from your kneeling position on the wooden boards of the humble kyudo hall, bow laid across your lap as you worked on tightening the new string. It wasn’t the best time to readjust to a new one, given your still aching wrist, but you couldn’t have your old one breaking on you with the first round of tournaments coming up.

The hall itself was in impeccable condition, thanks to the hard efforts of yourself and your team. The lot of you spend hours toiling to make sure the grass is cut, the range is kept clean, and the hall itself shines in case you receive curious faculty visits or sponsors otherwise. Shiratorizawa Academy may be a wealthy one, but not all the wealth was concentrated kindly to each part of the school. It was up to you, the captain, and your members to keep the hall shining as though it were just as good—especially because it was —so new visitors would only continue to be impressed.

But instead of shooting rounds like your younger members should be doing, a small huddle of the closer second and first years were shooting you worried glances. You were the only third year still spear-heading the entire campaign since the rest had left for studies or quit beforehand. Your vice-captain was a second year and close confidant and currently running around campus like a fool because you sent her on an errand so you could get more practice in before she chased you out.

“(L/n)-san you’re good at kyudo, so of course you’d stay. We just did it for fun.”

You can be good at it and have fun. You thought tirelessly, remembering watching the third years leave the hall, standing alone in the waning sunlight across wooden floorboards. You’re just giving up.

It wasn’t as though you were born gifted. They can joke you were born with a bow in your hand, but it was pure luck that your mother turned the television on to that channel that day, showcasing the national kyudo archery performance at the Imperial Palace in Tokyo. It was luck that you fell in love with that sound and the way the bow bent and the arrow flew.

And it was hard work to follow through with the luck that brought you here.

They all told you you only had one thing on the brain—kyudo, and they also said it’d probably be the end of you. Even your parents had been dropping light hints as of late that perhaps you should finally peel off the sport and bunker down for your studies. “What about college? Kyudo might not get you there, you know.”

“Are you going to do it forever?”

What else were you going to do? Die? Of course you were going to do kyudo forever. If it didn’t get you into college then you just wouldn’t go.

There was nothing you loved more than this sight, this bow, this.

Nothing.

N-o-t-h-i-n-g.

Your juniors shot each other more nervous looks. One brave young first year who you secretly planned to have join the five-team shoot finally took a step forward, hesitantly pointing to your lap.

“Senpai,” she said nervously, “...your string is…”

“Impeccable,” you said simply, holding up your bow like a sword, a sharp glint in your eye. “Now get back to the range. I’m shooting rounds right after you guys before—”

“You put it on… wrong…”

You calmly stared at your junior for several seconds, the other archers looking frightful behind her. You glanced down to your bow, staring at where your string was, sure enough, notched to absolutely nothing instead of the other end.

You felt a vein throb on the side of your head, cheeks flushing as you did the only reasonable thing and blamed the one person who had shoulders big enough to shoulder the brunt of all your problems.

Ushijima!

----- ---- -----

Shiratorizawa Nurse’s Office, One Week Ago

“You watch kyudo ?” you spluttered, scrambling off the floor and grabbing your stool in disbelief. Ushijima considered you with a cool sort of calm, staring almost blankly back at you.

He stared at your sprawled form on the ground and offered a hand. You slapped it away but it barely moved. The stupid tree of a teenager.

You watch my kyudo?

“Yes,” Ushijima said. You almost jumped, realizing what you’d thought. He set his hands back onto his lap, returning to his solid posture. “My grandmother was well-acquainted with a friend who performed for the national ceremonial procedures. We often have the kyudo channel on within my household.”

Each sentence leaving Ushijima’s lip with frightening ease was punching holes into your gut. His grandma was pals with someone who shot for the national ceremonies? He watches kyudo? He knew what a kaichu was and —

“It is a graceful sport,” Ushijima continued, meeting your gaze evenly. “I have long admired the poise. I watched your debut on the national stage when they broadcasted your first-year tournament. You performed admirably.”

Your brain short circuited, snapping like a bowstring. Ushijima, merciless, continued matter-of-factly, “They also had a small segment on your performance in the prefectural collegates. It is a shame there isn’t talk of scouting, but it does not seem kyudo works the same way our volleyball season does. My grandmother is familiar with your accomplishments and noticed we attend the same academy.”

Huh?

HUH?

“I hope you perform well this season as well—”

“Wait one second!” you blurted, flying across the stool and slapping a hand over his mouth. “Wait one damn second!”

Ushijima seemed only mildly surprised that your hand was now plastered over his lips. He blinked once, calmly back at you and you pointed aggressively at him with your other hand, nearly towering over him except even when he was sitting, he seemed to match your height.

“....are you trying to mess with me?” you said suspiciously, eyes narrowed. Ushijima blinked once more, calm. “You’re—you’re just some star volleyball player! And you’re a high schooler! It doesn’t even make any sense! How do you know about all of that, huh? No one even watches that channel on their own unless they’re real—”

You stopped yourself. You blinked rapidly. Real… fans… no, no, no, there’s no way! Ushijima Wakatoshi could not be a kyudo buff—volleyball and kyudo were about on the farthest ends of the spectrum as you could get! It didn’t make any sense.

This strangely nonchalant, weird classmate of yours was supposed to be nothing more than some poster-boy with tried and true skills in volleyball who stole the spotlight from the other sports at Shiratorizawa Academy, who was nice enough to pick up your flyers and greet you in the morning and say hello in that low, rumbling way of his when you spotted him and he made eye contact with you—

I don’t get this guy! You felt a vein throb on the side of your head, tempting to fist the collar of his uniform and really show him what for—all due to your unjust frustration—if this hard-to-read volleyball jock was just messing around—but, well, Ushijima didn’t really seem like the type for that either.

You blinked stupidly at Ushijima when his hand calmly came up, holding your wrist and lowering your hand down so he could speak. “I watch.”

He seemed to think for a moment before continuing, as though answering a question asked by the teacher, “You’re on channel KNJ most Thursday nights. Some Sunday mornings. I often record the broadcasts when there seems to be something notable.”

You felt something stab through your entire being, ripping into your existence on this universe, turning the world around you upside on your head.

Mr. All-Youth-Japan tuned into broadcasts that featured your kyudo accomplishments and—

“I watch,” Ushijima repeated, never breaking contact with your gaze. His large fingers circled easily around your wrist, holding them loosely against the calloused heat of his palm. “As I said, I am a fan of your archery.”

Something incoherent left your lips. A croak of some sorts. Ushijima’s brows furrowed slightly. “Yes?”

“L-Let me get this straight,” you said shakily. “My… my archery… you watch it?”

“Yes,” Ushijima said.

“You… like it?”

“Quite,” Ushijima said.

The faint smell of salonpas tickled your nose. The light hint of sweat and fabric softener. Up close, you suddenly realized that Ushijima had more complex eyes than you thought, hinting a little bit of gold. Lighter than his hair. He smells different from what I’d expect too.

Wait, what the hell were you expecting in the first place?

Ushijima frowned briefly, eyes suddenly leaving your face and turning to your wrist. He considered where his fingers touched your skin, feverishly warm. His thumb lightly pressed the inside of your wrist and he turned his gaze back to you. “(L/n)-san, is your wrist swollen—”

“W-Well, it only makes sense, I guess!” you said loudly, yanking your hand entirely out of his grasp and tossing them both into the air. Ushijima looked up at you with furrowed brows as you laughed, nervous and sweating bullets with your fingers waggling. “ The Ushijima Wakatoshi? A fan of my archery? Hah! Haha… hah! Of course you’d be! Y-You have good taste! I’ll give you that, Ushijima-san! I’ll give you that! But that doesn��t mean anything else in the grand scheme of all this—y-you’re still nothing but a competitor for the sponsorships of this school!”

Ushijima apparead mildly confused, brows furrowed in a touch of a heavy set over his normally stern features. “Sponsorship?”

“That’s right!” you blurted, pointing right at his face. Your eyes were spinning, head twisting in circles. “All anyone cares about is your stupid volleyball!” Ushijima’s frown deepened. “Your team gets the spotlight even though we’ve got plenty of great achievements—you’re flattery won’t get you anywhere! My club is still going to come out on top and all anyone’s going to be talking about is kyudo and—and more kyudo!”

“Volleyball isn’t stupid,” Ushijima said calmly. “But I did not realize that others in our student body were not watching kyudo—”

“I’m going to go shoot right now!” you declared, almost delirious as you hurriedly grabbed your bag. Ushijima stood up from his stool, looking after you. “G-Gotta get those results—bye!”

Before Ushijima could say anything otherwise, you were sprinting out the door, nearly tripping over your feet and covering your face in your hands as you still tried to process the fact that Ushijima Wakatoshi was your first and probably only fan.

You probably fainted somewhere in the kyudo hall. This had to be a dream. A weird, warped dream caused by delirious induced hallucinations of Ushijima’s volleyball posters.

--- ---- ---- ----

Sadly, it hadn’t been a dream. The entire interaction a week ago had been very, very real, and it’d annoyingly been on your mind since. You tried furiously to dispel all thoughts of it with waves of your arrows and aggressive scrubbing of the floors, but to no avail.

“I watch.”

Ushijima of all people? You couldn’t wrap your head around it. Him? Kyudo? That muscle head?

But… if he knew so much about it and even recorded broadcasts… then he really did have great taste. Kyudo was an amazing sport. Anyone willing to give it the attention it deserved was worth a good tick or two in your book. Not only that, but he complimented your archery—

No, no, forget it! You furiously shoved your things into your bag, wrapping up your bow and unstringing it as you slung everything over your shoulder. Several bags hung off your back and shoulders as well, stuffed with targets you needed to take home and repaint for tomorrow’s practice. You were the last one in the kyudo hall, sending all your juniors home to rest. Who cares if he watches your archery? Just a month ago he was some stranger on a poster!

You nodded to yourself, satisfied with your roundabout answers. Yeah, stop worrying about him. What are the odds we’ll run into each other again, anyway? Only on posters. You and Ushijima Wakatoshi were still a decent world apart, even with the recent amount of run-ins. Who was to say they wouldn’t stop tomorrow?

You nodded again, kicking the door open with your foot and struggling to pull all your bags out along with your bow, strapped neatly to your back. You huffed, shaking free like a wet dog and hobbling down the corner of the hall to begin the long trek back to the dorms. Just focus on kyudo, (Y/n). Kyudo’s all that matters anyway, not volleyball players the size of oak trees and —

“Good evening, (L/n)-san.”

AND WHY THE HELL IS HE HERE TOO?

You gaped in disbelief, pale as a sheet with your arms bulging over the top of your bags, looking like a pack mule in the middle of the road.

Ushijima Wakatoshi calmly gazed back at you, expression neutral. His volleyball bag, neatly printed with the school’s logo was slung over his shoulder. He wore the deep purple track jacket over a black t-shirt and volleyball shorts—a young athlete clearly fresh out of practice.

And now here he was, standing in front of the kyudo hall, looking at you.

Ushijima raised one big hand in greeting, staring at you. The evening glow cast a nice little warm light around his broad shoulders and hair, turning it soft.

HAH?

You almost dropped your bags in shock, blinking rapidly. You rubbed one of your eyes, blinking again and squinting in disbelief at Ushijima right in front of you. He brought his hand back down, calmly facing you.

“Um,” you said intelligently. “...take this however you want, but… what are you doing here?”

Ushijima’s eyes swept once over the amount of bags bulging out from under your arms, taking particular interest in examining the tall, towering form of your unstrung bow rising high above your head. He turned his eyes calmly back to you.

“I was waiting for you.”

Oh, right. You thought. That makes perfect sense. For some reason, Ushijima Wakatoshi is waiting for me outside the kyudo hall.

HAAAH?

“Is there… a reason why?” you asked tentatively, keeping your eyes on him as you shifted side to side like an uncertain crab.

Ushijima answered, without missing a beat, “I wanted to talk with you.”

You almost dropped all your bags. Almost. “Uh… about…?”

Ushijima seemed to consider your words for a moment longer this time. He faced you with an ungodly amount of calm, reminding you more of a statue for some kind of demi-god than a human with his towering frame and golden glow against the sunset. “Whatever it is that you might want to talk about.”

What the heck is that supposed to mean? “What the heck is that supposed to mean?” you asked, outright confused. Ushijima’s brows furrowed slightly. “And, hold on, correct me if I’m wrong or something, but you weren’t… waiting for me… right?”

(Y/n), are you an idiot? Of course this guy wasn’t waiting for you. Why would he be waiting for you —

“No,” Ushijima said. You sighed in relief. “Practice ended fifteen minutes ago. It was not much of a wait.”

You dropped all your bags to the floor, except your bow, sturdy against your back. Ushijima’s eyes turned down to the mess at your feet.

You stood like a cardboard cut out in the middle of the road, frozen in disbelief. But why?

“Do you need help?” Ushijima asked, stepping closer. You jumped back into action quickly scrambling for the bags. “You were heading back to the dorms, correct?”

“S-So what if I was?” you snapped, trying to precariously balance all your bags again. Ushijima waited, watching you struggle. You defensively added, “I-I have a system! You surprised me so I just have to get them stacked in the right order again!”

“I see,” Ushijima said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

What the hell is this guy’s problem? You thought in horrified confusion, grabbing at your bags and huffing. What does he want from me? Is this some new type of bullying?

“Why are you carrying so many bags?” Ushijima asked. In any other manner, it would’ve sounded completely different, but his voice was calm, as though stating fact. You’re mouth opened and closed like a fish, still trying to wrap your head around this strange interaction.

“B-Because I have to repaint the targets!” you snapped. You struggled to fit them all back on your arms, scowling. “They were chipping yesterday so—”

In one sweeping motion, Ushijima’s hand closed over several of the bag handles, lifting the bulky materials up into the air. You blinked rapidly in disbelief, hands still hanging in the air, holding nothing but your own bow on your back while Ushijima calmly held onto your targets.

“I’ll carry them,” he said simply, gazing down at you with those impassive, unreadable eyes. The sunset made them a little warmer, but only because of the sunset. “What part of the dorms do you stay in?”

You gaped at Ushijima like a fish. He waited patiently for your answer, standing beside you and holding all your bags like they were nothing.

“I-I don’t need your help, you jerk!”

Ushijima had the nerve to look confused. “It’s more efficient this way.”

“Are you trying to pick a fight?”

“Are you on the west or east side?”

“West—I-I’m talking to you, you tree trunk! Put those down! I’ll carry them myself!”

“I do not see why you would choose a less efficient manner to—”

“You want to get beat up?”

“No, that was not my intention. Have I done something to upset you?”

---- ---- ---- ---

But the problem didn’t stop there.

Every evening after practice, Ushijima waits, without fail, outside the kyudo hall. You’re always the last one to leave, and it seems for some ungodly reason, the timing of the end of his own practices mesh perfectly with yours.

You can’t even begin to wrap your head around it, staring in disbelief day after day as Ushijima appears, again and again, waiting for you outside to walk you back to the dorms. He offered to take your bag for you, asking dutifully each time even though you always turned him down since it’s just your bow and backpack and Ushijima just nods and continues, speaking every other bout of silence.

You tried to figure out why, but all he does is answer, in his stupid, impassive Ushijima-way, “I wanted to talk to you.”

Talk? With you? What the hell was that even supposed to mean? What kind of game was this guy playing? It didn’t make any sense! Each day you set out to figure out how to stop this nonsense, but each afternoon, Ushijima brought up several other topics of conversation that made you pause, pushing it off another day and then another.

And then you just… sort of resigned yourself to this strangeness.

Is it because he’s my fan? You rubbed your chin in thought, frowning at your shoes while Ushijima walked in content silence beside you. A few students shot the two of you curious glances, but you just furrowed your brows, automatically following Ushijima as he navigated you two outside a crowd of track runners and moved to the other side of the walkway with you in thoughtful tow. Is that it? I mean, I’m flattered, but this is still weird.

He talked to you about all kinds of things too—kyudo, mainly. Ushijima was a weird person to hold conversations with, seemingly blunt and forward with his intentions, but an absolute enigma at the same time. He would ask without fail how your practice went, your intentions for the upcoming preliminaries, how the competition looked, how your kyudo was going, your team—

And, yeah, maybe you would answer because it was kyudo and you loved talking about kyudo—but that was the only reason why. The only one. If someone was asking about kyudo, you’d always answer without fail.

“Well, what about volleyball?” you snapped one day, the two of you standing in the middle of the pathway, still a good few minutes away from the dorms. Ushijima turned to you, fixing you with his entire attention like always. “You’re some kind of crazy volleyball nut, right? Why aren’t you talking about it?”

“...I was under the impression you were not interested in volleyball,” Ushijma said. Did the jerk sound pleased? No way , Ushijima Wakatoshi was practically limited to two emotions. Ushijima one and two.

“I think volleyball is fine!” you said. “It’s a great sport. It’s not as great as kyudo, but it’s fine. Isn’t it your whole life? Stop talking about mine, you creep. What about yours?”

You looked up at him when Ushijima didn’t say anything. The quiet expression on his impassive face made you pause, staring at him with curiously round eyes as a third Ushijima seemed to finally appear and he started, almost… warmly , to talk about it—volleyball, him.

“Yes,” Ushijima said. “I like volleyball.”

Well, he really did seem to know his stuff about kyudo.

So… maybe Ushijima Wakatoshi wasn’t too bad after all. I mean, if he’s my fan… you should do your duty then, right? Your personal vendetta against Ushijima had mostly stemmed from the unjust bias in publicity, but it wasn’t really his fault… But only because he’s my fan… yeah. It’d be mean to turn away someone genuinely interested in talking about kyudo.

You figured you could put up with this. Just for a bit longer.

Maybe. Just a bit.

--- --- ---- ---

At the crack of dawn one weekend, you looked up from tying your running shoes, spotting a familiar, hulking figure only a few feet away. Steam billowed past his lips, making him look just as much of a monster as he did that one morning almost several months ago now from the club meeting.

Dedicated. You blew hot air into your freezing hands, shivering at the morning chill. Guess he really isn’t a nationally ranked player for nothing.

“Ushijima!”

His arms moved neatly at his sides, stride even, form impeccable. Ushijima’s eyes swung across the school courtyard and landed on your lone form by the benches. You couldn’t make out the shift in his expression from where you stood, but instead of waving in response like you expected, he veered off his running track across the pathway and made his way to you.

“Good morning,” Ushijima said, hardly sounding winded. This guy, I swear. You lifted a hand again in greeting, stuffing your freezing fingers back into your pockets. He stopped beside you, radiating warmth and thrumming with a low, even pulse of energy. You almost wanted to put your hands on him just to warm them up.

“I didn’t know you ran on the weekends too,” you said. “You don’t go home?”

“I visit when needed,” Ushijima said evenly. “My household isn’t far from campus. It’s easier to stay in the dorms.”

“Oh, I see,” you shuffled on your feet, shifting your hands inside your pockets. “Uh, sorry to disturb you. Just wanted to say hey.”

“You didn’t disturb me,” Ushijima said.

Give me something to work with after you say stuff like that! You grimaced, somewhat used to this sort of flat-ended conversation by now. You rubbed the back of your neck, Ushijima still waiting in silence beside you, seemingly content to just stare at the pathway, steam lightly slipping past his mouth when he exhaled.

“...you, uh,” you started awkwardly. “Want to run together?”

Ushijima’s dark eyes turned toward you. You shrugged, waving a hand. “If I can’t keep up, just keep going. I’m not looking to mess with your training regime or anything.”

“You’ll be able to keep up.”

You stopped, looking at Ushijima with round eyes. He gazed evenly back at you as you searched for a hint of mockery or some kind of tease, but his expression was dutifully earnest.

“...okay,” you mumbled. “...Let’s go then.”

The two of you broke off back into a jog, slowly finding your pace together, arms and legs moving in unison.

The run warmed you up faster than you expected.

You and Ushijima never once broke pace with each other.

---- --- ----

“Tendou-senpai, who is that with Ushijima-senpai?”

Tendou hummed, swinging his legs back and forth as he stretched lazily out across the court. In a few minutes he’d shape up before Coach could lecture him about his terrible form. Shirabu was stretching out beside him, eyes turned toward the double-door opening of the gym where they were letting a bit of a breeze come through. Goshiki looked up at Shirabu when he mentioned Ushijima, quickly peeking his head around too.

Sure enough, outside the double doors stood a completely rare sight to behold. Ushijima Wakatoshi himself cut several minutes close to the beginning of practice to stand outside and speak with someone.

You.

Goshiki frowned in confusion, barely catching a glimpse of you blocked by Ushijima’s hulking figure. His head was turned downwards, speaking with you. A massive, clothed staff seemed to come up from behind your back, however, rising even over Ushijima’s head. “Who’s that?”

“That’s Kyu-chan~” Tendou hummed. “Our dear captain’s new little friend!”

“Kyu-chan?” Goshiki repeated loudly. “Who is that? Is she close to Ushijima-senpai?”

“...she’s the captain of the kyudo club,” Shirabu said, blinking in recognition. “I see her passing out flyers to the lower grades. She and Ushijima-senpai are friends? Are they classmates?”

“Something like that,” Tendou said. “Waka-kun is a bit of a fan.”

“Of kyudo?” Shirabu looked over in mild surprise. “I didn’t think Ushijima-senpai could look at any other sport beside volleyball.”

“Well, something like that too?” Tendou touched a finger to his chin, feigning ignorance. “It’s more like he became a fan of the sport as a result!”

“Of what?” Shirabu continued, raising a critical brow.

“Kyudo?” Goshiki said. “What’s that?”

Shirabu rolled his eyes, looking done with the wing spiker’s nonsense. Goshiki gaped in disbelief, quickly turning to Tendou who’d rolled over onto his stomach, watching the sight of you and Ushijima in amusement, as though it were some kind of television soap opera.

You said something to Ushijima, shoving a plastic bag his way. He took it calmly with one hand, holding it tightly at his side as he said something else to you. Tendou watched a dumb sort of laugh touch your lips and you shook your head, waving to Ushijima over your shoulder as you headed off to your own practice.

Ushijima watched you go, waiting there until you disappeared from sight. He held the bag at his side, waiting a second longer before he turned back toward the gym.

“Ah,” Tendou said, “young love.”

Shirabu’s grip on his ankle slipped and Goshiki choked, the two of them looking at Tendou in almost disbelieving horror. “ What? ”

---- ---- ----

"Ushijima-san brings the game to a match point now with that finishing serve. His powerful strikes are yet to be received by the opposing team. His statistics are still on the rise and he might just be able to finish the set with another service ace, bringing it up for — ”

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to admit it. Maybe a couple months ago you wouldn’t have wanted to admit it, because it would have left an unfairly foul taste on your mouth, reminding you again that there was perfectly good reason for Ushijima and his team to be receiving the kind of publicity and acclaim they did.

But now… well, sure, Ushijima wasn’t a bad guy at all. You might even say you were sort of acquaintances now. Maybe friends. To an extent. He was a bit awkward, blunt, and sometimes hard to talk too if you didn’t figure out the nuances in his rather simple and earnest approach—that still rubbed you the wrong way from time to time but what was life without some disputes—but the evidence was glaringly obvious.

Ushijima Wakatoshi worked hard. Terribly, frighteningly so, in the same way that you could understand with every new ache of your wrist and pull of your bow, straining to push and push and rise higher and higher. You noticed it in his runs, in his practices, and now, even sneaking a quick watch of a few of his highlights online, which lead to an endless spiral of watching several more taped games of his performances.

He dedicated himself to volleyball the same way you did to kyudo. You were both hopeless causes for these things you were willing to give your all too.

You replayed the last point again, watching huddled up on the bench as you waited for the lunch bell to ring. You’d had to tape up your wrist today, finally giving in to Ushijima’s persistent, dull-tone nagging. You’d go easier on practice too, just this once, since he seemed to adamant about it. Just this once.

“Many will be disappointed if you can’t shoot.”

I mean, I can’t let my fans down, right? Heheheh...

The announcer started speaking in your ear and you followed Ushijima across the court, watching him toss the ball up for that killer serve again. I know how it ends but I still get anxious watching this.

“(L/n)-san.”

You let out an inhuman screech, phone flying into the air as your limbs spazzed out. Ushijima blinked once, calmly catching your phone before it hit the unforgiving floor and holding it in his grip as he waited for you to calm down. You wheezed, slapping your chest to make sure your heart was still in it, cheeks flushed red as you gaped at Ushijima in disbelief. “U-Ushijima! You scared me! Say something next time!”

“I did,” Ushijima said, only mildly confused. “I said your name.”

“Louder!”

“I see,” Ushijima said. He grabbed your dangling earbuds and paused, turning your phone screen over.

His own face looked back at him, impassive and collected.

You slapped your phone out of his hand, letting it hit the floor with a clack. Ushijima blinked once at it and then looked back at you. You heaved, cheeks flushed a bright red as you stuttered, practically shouting, “It’s not what it looks like!”

Ushijima bent down to pick up your phone.

You quickly scooped it and shoved it into your pocket, completely frazzled. Ushijima considered the now empty spot in his hand before looking back at you, completely unfazed.

“We were seeded for Inter-High this year,” Ushijima said calmly. “Next month we’ll play. Would you like to come then?”

“Who said I wanted to watch your stinking game?” you snapped, cheeks till bright red as you practically hissed at the towering young man. Ushijima’s face remained almost expressionless, almost, but he simply waited for more words to come out of you, as they always did. “When is it? In a month? Maybe I’ll come! Maybe!”

“I look forward to seeing you there,” Ushijima said. He glanced back down to his hands before looking over at your bow strapped to your back. “Your beginning preliminaries don’t allow for outside spectators.”

Stop saying it like you mean you’ll come if it were different! You waved Ushijima off. “Yeah, yeah, but we’re making it past prelims so you can come to the official tournament.”

“You’re confident,” Ushijima said.

“Of course I am! What do you think I’ve been doing all this time?”

Ushijima’s hands shifted to his sides. He gazed down at you, expression almost light. No, no, no, you’re just imagining things. “I look forward to watching you then.”

“Check your calendar first,” you muttered. “You don’t even know if you’ll be able to come.”

“I will attend, if it is alright with you.”

This guy is really something else! You ran a quick hand through your hair, fighting back the furious flush of pride that threatened to overtake your features. Ushijima started saying something else, calmly talking about how he felt your form improved lately, but he had yet to see so for himself. You can’t help but think about how he’d opened the gym doors for you, allowing you to take a peek into their harrowing, rigorous volleyball practice schedule simply because you were a bit curious and—

You’re not sure what possessed you next.

“You can come if you want,” you said suddenly. “To practice today.”

Ushijima paused, looking back to you. You finally met his gaze, rubbing the back of your neck. “Since you like it so much, right? Kyudo. I can… you can try it, if you want. Just this once.”

(Y/n) I think you’ve completely lost your mind, maybe you really are practicing too hard after all and —

“If it is not a hindrance to your performance,” Ushijima said. “I will come.”

You scoffed, scuffing your foot along the floor. “What, you think I’m gonna choke?”

“No,” Ushijima said.

“You know, would it kill you to give me something to work with for once—”

“If you intend to watch more matches, please watch our match against Itachiyama,” Ushijima said, after a pause.. “It was where I received my ranking. My performance is… better, during that match.”

“Please stop talking.”

--- --- ---- ----

A round of terrified gasps and gargles from your fellow club members was about the best warning you got that Ushijima had finally made his appearance at your kyudo hall, right as rain, bright and early like he promised.

The poor first year who’d been the one to open the door looks downright terrified, face pale at Ushijima’s towering figure now blocking the doorway into the entrance hall. He gazed down at her, the top half of his face nearly obscured until he lowered his head slightly in a fearsome bow.

“Good morning. I’m sorry to intrude.”

She gaped, staring in disbelief at his appearance while the other girls had all turned and then made equally disbelieved faces, eyes round and popping out of their heads.

“H-Hey, (Y/n)!” your vice captain hissed. “I might be going crazy, but isn’t that Ushijima standing at our door? What’s the boy’s volleyball team captain doing here?”

“Are they trying to run us out?” one girl gasped. “So they can expand the gym?”

“They’ve come for our kyudo hall!”

“Captain, please do something!”

You know, maybe a few months ago you would’ve thought exactly the same. You sighed in amusement, crossing your arms over your hakama as you exited the shooting range and set your bow down against the wall. Who would’ve thought?

“It’s fine guys,” you said, waving to your club members who gaped at you. “I invited him over. Ushijima wanted to see how a kyudo practice went. I promised I’d help him shoot one round.”

“Captain—”

“Invited—”

“Ushijima-senpai—”

You walked over to Ushijima, looking up at him with your hands on your hips. He seemed to take in your formal kyudo attire with particular care, reaching up to his chest and setting his hand down on his black shirt and shorts, his volleyball jersey hanging over his shoulders. “Is the attire required?”

“Not this time,” you said with a grin. “We probably don’t have a uniform that fits you anyways. Come on in.”

The girls around you continued to gape in disbelief. Ushijima bowed to them once more, politely taking off his shoes and bending down to make it into the hall without hitting his head. He rose to his full height below the arching wooden beams, calmly taking his jacket off as well and slinging it over his arm as he followed behind you, trudging like a massive shadow.

You secretly took note of his mannerisms in the hall, curious about whether or not you’d need to correct him for this or that. To your disturbed surprise, Ushijima found himself at perfect ease in the completely formal setting, properly shifting to the side to stay out of the presentation range and moving in even, clear steps across the floor.

He looked to you, waiting for your next instructions. It was almost cute, like a giant, big dog.

Almost.

“We’ll match you with a bow and show you the practice movements,” you said cheerfully, getting a little pumped up about teaching someone for the first time in awhile. Not to mention a total newbie to the sport who was a god in his own—truly a bit satisfying for your ego. “Then we shoot, just a bit.”

Ushijima nodded, his expression settled into one of ease. You stopped just short of grabbing the unstrung bows, blinking in surprise.

Did he just smile?

---- ---- --- ----

“I can’t believe I’m seeing this with my own eyes.”

“I know! It’s the Ushijima-senpai. I thought he was some kind of scary giant!”

“I heard he’s cold to everyone else! He glares at anyone who comes close!”

“Did you hear? Apparently he comes from a super wealthy, really well-off family! And he’s gifted! He’ll go pro for sure!”

“Why’s he here with senpai then?”

The first and second year girls all shared looks, frowning at each other before they peered around the corner of the sliding doors into the shooting range.

The height difference was pitifully apparent when you stood beside Ushijima, hands on your hips as you loudly and carefully instructed him on what he’d need to know to make sure he didn’t hurt himself. The obvious pride and ego in your stance seemed to make up for any height difference though, as Ushijima patiently craned his head down and listened to you, holding the bow and arrow in his hands.

You eagerly touched your own bow, showing him in exaggerated motions the stances, shuffling backwards to show him how you knelt and then stood, coming to stand in shooting position. Ushijima listened to all of this with obvious attentiveness, following your every motion and nodding, asking a quiet question once or twice.

Your juniors made eyes at each other, nervously peering around the corner.

“Is this something she’s doing to show kyudo is worth attention?”

“Is it a fight? Do you think he challenged her to a fight or something?”

“But if it’s senpai, wouldn’t she be the one challenging him to a fight? She’s been so worried lately about new members…”

Your vice captain observed the two of you in silence, arms crossed over her chest. She carefully considered Ushijima’s attentive stare, the quiet and swift way he moved to follow your motions, coming always to stand beside you unless you shooed him back to make another demonstration. Her eyes finally tracked back to Ushijima’s bag hanging in a small visitor cubby, neatly folded bags of energy drinks and protein bars with two boxes of cut fruit—one wrapped and the other one not.

“Can you believe who I ran into trying to get that drink you told me to get? That jerk all over our school!”

The drinks sitting in Ushijima’s bag were the ones she’d told you about all those months ago.

“I think,” she said. “It’s going to be okay… probably.”

Your juniors gaped in disbelief. Your vice captain shrugged.

“The nice thing about archery is that it doesn’t really matter if you shoot right or left!” you said amiably, growing more and more excited as you showed Ushijima the correct position for a left-handed archer. “Not like volleyball, right? The ball goes a totally different way. Arrows always fly straight if you shoot it right.”

Ushijima’s hand flexed against the bow. He gazed down at you. “You noticed.”

“Well, duh , who couldn’t tell what hand you’re hitting with? Anyway, you’re lucky I can actually shoot crazy good with both, here, this part gets easier.”

You stood right beside Ushijima, hardly even coming up to his shoulder. His eyes were focused on the top of your head for a moment, gazing at the crown of your hair before his eyes shifted to your hands, small and calloused as they reached for his and you molded yourself against him. Your eyes were shining as you guided his hands against the bow, showing Ushijima how to pull the string. You pressed your fingers into the crook of his elbow, squeezing to draw him back and lightly touching the small of his back to straighten him out.

He could feel the whisper of your heart against him, the light pulse like the flutter of the net after a strike into its side, shaking its hold.

“There,” you said softly, pulling back with a grin. Ushijima’s gaze turned over his shoulder to look down at you, properly taking in the way your hair framed your cheeks, how your eyes brightened, more and more, as though being here could make you invincible.

The way I feel on the court.

“Now if you just pull and release like I taught you,” you said gently, touching his wrist one more time and then mimicking the action with your own arms, copying his left-handed stance. “You’ll be golden!”

Ushijima carefully considered his form, focusing intently on the arrow and the target that seemed an entire court away. It was reassuring, in that sense. It wasn’t hard to envision the power he’d need to send a ball that far. The arrow and bow in his hands were rather different, fragile yet stiff when he pulled, bending and bending but not breaking.

“Don’t hold back,” you said right by his side. Ushijima’s eyes met yours over the bow and he took in fully then, the sight of your eyes, burning. “We can handle more than you think.”

Ah.

Ushijima never took his eyes off you, firing off the arrow, shooting straight into nothingness.

Your eyes quickly shot to where it landed. You laughed, shaking your head at where the arrow hand landed, just a few inches from the target into the sand. “Hey! That’s actually not bad for a first time—guess even you can’t get it on the first shot though, right?”

The grin on your face was flooded with pride, cheeky as you laughed, turning back to him and picking up your bow. Ushijima followed the curve of your lips, disappearing into a smile, the crinkle of your eyes. “Here, here, one more time! I want to see the Ushijima Wakatoshi give kyudo another shot, or even a dozen more!”

You raised your bow, grabbing your waiting arrow as you went through the foot motions and stopped. “Maybe you can get a little good—then I’ll gloat to the whole world that a nationally ranked volleyball player learned kyudo from me , right?”

“That seems unnecessary,” Ushijima said, watching your arms, your hands, your body coil like a practiced, well-oiled machine.

“Publicity!” you said. “Help me out here, would you? Kyudo isn’t as loved as volleyball, you know. Look, watch how a pro does it.”

He felt something stir in his gut at your words, lurching.

You copied his stance and turned your gaze forward. Ushijima looked behind him when he sensed a sudden hush fall over the hall, your juniors watching in rapt attention as you pulled your arrow back and adjusted your entire stance.

Your eyes zeroed in on the target. You exhaled.

The light in your eyes never seemed more fierce.

With a resounding clap the arrow shot out from your fingers, as though guided by the wind. Your hair blew out from your face, coiling backwards. It slammed dead-center into the target.

Ushijima felt again, the stir, quick and fervent in his gut. His grip on the borrowed bow tightened as you gazed at the arrow, smoothly holding your bow at your side and then you turned to him. The memory of the television flickered through his head, the garbled, clear words growing louder as he faced you and your eyes focused on him, bright.

“Maybe we could make an archer out of you just yet,” you laughed, rubbing your chin as you observed Ushijima’s own charm as he held the bow. “In our uniform you’d really look like you belonged here. You’ve got the poise for it.”

“...but?” Ushijima said, sensing the continuing hang of your words.

“But,” you agreed, propping your chin up as you nodded to yourself. “Yeah… you really do look better on a volleyball court, you know?”

Twang! Twang!

He’d always thought they were a bit similar—that sharp, satisfying sound that always left your bow when you shot and the sound of his hand connecting with the ball, sending it just right through the air.

Ushijima let the stir in the pit of his stomach flood his chest, calmly seeping down to the tips of his fingers as he gazed at you.

“Let’s give it one more go. Next time you can show me how to spike if it won’t rip my arm off—”

“(L/n)-san,” Ushijima said, his voice like a low rumble. Your juniors flinched at the back of the hall and you simply hummed in response, looking back at him. “Thank you.”

“...you’re welcome,” you said amiably, laughing a bit. “If you like it so much, you can come when you’re not busy—”

“I like you, (L/n)-san.”

Your juniors froze. Your vice-captain’s eyes bulged from her head. You blinked, grinning at Ushijima.

“Yeah, I know, you dork. You’re my first and biggest fan! Were you just blown away about seeing my shooting in person?”

“Yes,” Ushijima said. He properly turned to face you, eyes heavy, expression set. You suddenly felt a suspicious chill curling up your spine, forcing you to blink at him with wide, confused eyes. “I like watching you shoot the best.”

Ah, see! Nothing to be worried about. What was I even thinking in the first place? Your juniors sighed in relief behind you. “I know! I really am the—”

“But you,” Ushijima said, completely and utterly calm, voice clear as water, “are what I like the best as well.”

For once, you committed one of the gravest sins—your bow clattered to the floor. Your face turned pale in disbelief, color slowly starting to color it back in soft red as it came up from your neck and to your face. The entire kyudo hall went silent at Ushijima’s words, resounding like an echo.

“Uh… yeah, I mean… um… what’s that supposed to… mean?”

Ushijima continued, without missing a beat, merciless—

“I like you,” Ushijima said. A heartbeat longer and he added, calmly, “I want to be with you.”

Thud!

“S-S-Senpai’s collapsed! Someone call a teacher, we’re being attacked!”

---- ----- ----

Two Years Ago

Ushijima Household

“Wakatoshi, I believe this young lady attends your academy as well.”

Ushijima calmly looked up from the steaming cup of tea placed carefully in front of him. The usual quietness, the faint stuffiness that resided within his grandmother’s studies and quarters was still prevalent to this day as he joined her for her afternoon tea. The attendants had already been dismissed, waiting outside the hall to bring in lunch once his grandmother was ready.

His legs itched to shift in their resigned position, a sensation he was training himself to forget. These were small, trivial things he had no business entertaining. Once he stepped onto the court, it would mean nothing.

The large television set was fixed to a low but clear volume. Across the screen, an array of young people were being presented in an orderly fashion across a kyudo hall. His grandmother was always watching their segments, but the time slot had changed to coincide with their afternoon tea.

She talked less about his future during these moments now, since the kyudo channel shifted time. He felt, in a childish, small corner of his heart, grateful for that.

“Do you intend to play volleyball beyond your studies, Wakatoshi? There’s more beyond the sport for you within our family.”

His mother had already informed him to consider saying the correct words to placate his grandmother. Ushijima did not know what those words could be. Not if they involved anything other than volleyball.

His left hand twitched over the top of his lap. Ushijima faintly followed the announcer’s words, trying to find what it was his grandmother had meant— there.

A fierce young girl glared hard at the expanse in front of her. Her hakama clung tightly to her body, hair pulled back and out of her face. He wasn’t familiar with her, not personally, but he had a vague sense he might have passed her on more than one occasion after practice—the kyudo hall on campus was close to the volleyball gym.

It was a final shoot off, according to the commentator. His grandmother watched with rapt attention, quietly commenting that she was fond of this girl from Shiratorizawa— she shoots like she means it. He’d never heard his grandmother speak in such a manner over any kind of sport.

Ushijima watched the screen with newfound interest, a touch critical. Kyudo was a quiet sport, not the kind that received acclaim the way volleyball did. He’d never once considered himself partaking in it though he harbored no ill will.

“There,” his grandmother said. “Watch this now, Wakatoshi.”

Ushijima watched you through the screen, your stern, serious face matching that of your competitors as they set up their shot. Their arrow fired, hitting the mark barely off from the center sphere, it seemed it was practically center. The commentator announced what this meant in the shift of points and that you would have to score consecutive kaichus once more to take the entire competition back. Full marks. You had to hit dead center to make up for your team’s single miss.

You moved, elegant and poised. He could understand why his grandmother liked you. You matched all her tastes.

His left hand curled, tighter against his lap.

And then you smiled.

Ushijima felt the world slow, silence flooding across the screen.

Your arrows fired off—again, again, and again. Each time you greeted the shooting range with a smile and left it with a frown, as though the parting, only seconds long, was already too much for your heart to bear. Your opponent remained unfazed, serious, but you smiled each shot, hitting dead center, dead center, bullseye.

The commentator’s voice was flooding with rapt emotion, though they tried to stay impartial. Everyone’s eyes were on you, a second commentator a touch critical over your confidence, hinting arrogance in your grin.

No. Ushijima wanted to correct, almost immediately, entirely entranced. Not arrogance. Not baseless confidence.

You loved it. Kyudo. Shooting—

Every last bit of it.

For a second the screen blurred. Ushijima saw the other end of the court, the ball connecting with his palm, his own lips barely turning up into a near breathless smile, almost fierce—

He wanted to play.

“Good,” his grandmother said. “She will advance next year. If she participated in the individual tournaments, I’m sure she’d do much better. She keeps playing for a team, such a shame.”

“(L/n)-san, it seems as though you were born for the sport!” his eyes quickly turned back to the screen. In an instant the crowd had cleared and you stood, calmly holding your bow as a commentator got your final words on the march. “You’re a true prodigy. What words do you have for any aspiring archers?”

(L/n). Ushijima thought. (L/n) (Y/n). A prodigy? He could imagine so, with the beautiful way you shot. It was as though you were made for the bow.

“I’m not a prodigy,” your voice cut, shooting straight through Ushijima and forcing his complete and utter attention back onto you. “Don’t get me wrong, I think plenty of people are born for this. Maybe you could say I was, if that’s how you want to see it. At the end of the day it’s work though, lots and lots and lots of it.”

You faced the screen, eyes shining, boring straight through Ushijima, as though speaking solely to him, even though you possibly couldn’t be.

“It’s luck,” you said, “I’m lucky nothing’s happened to keep me from being here. I’m lucky my parents haven’t tried to make me stop. Yet, at least. I just got lucky. Kyudo found me. It’s all luck.”

“Ushijima, why do you think we get to stand on this court? People like us?”

Because we’re—

Ushijima felt his chest tighten. His pulse raced, hard against his skin. The itch to move, to run, to play flooded through his entire body. He felt it all, simply by looking at you—the urge to play volleyball a hundred, a thousand times.

“There’s unrest that youths your age will have to focus more on studies instead of pursuing kyudo as a profession. Many find that as a sport, it does not hold up to — ”

“No way,” you said, looking offended. “I’m doing kyudo until I die.”

Ushijima imagined it then, his ball shooting across the court like an arrow, his spike sailing through the air, the same way your arrow pierced the target.

“Now, Wakatoshi,” his grandmother began. “I hear your career forms are going about next year. What exactly will you be writing on yours?”

“...volleyball,” Ushijima said, clear, resounding. His grandmother raised one fine brow, but he faced her, poised, polite, unyielding.

“I will continue playing volleyball.”

He’d remember your name. He’d remember you. If possible, he’d thank you as well. You both attended the same school—a chance would surely come.

For the record:

- The kyudo club ended up getting their funding, enough to see them through for several more years. You came to Ushijima (your boyfriend of one month) sobbing buckets over it and pawing at his jacket while he calmly rubbed your back and congratulated you. The donation was an anonymous one from a rather prestigious family familiar with the school.

- You come to the rest of Ushijima's games, your team makes it through prelims and he gets to watch you through the finals for your prefecture and has plans to go watch you at nationals.

(Spoilers for the latest chapters of the manga, proceed with caution or just end it here if you don't want to see the last headcanon!)

- Romero comments about the cool archery that Ushijima watches in his down time in the locker room. Hoshiumi and Kageyama mumble in surprise that someone like Ushijima could be interested in anything other than volleyball. Ushijima admits it was a very important person he became a fan of first before the sport. "I admired the athlete and then found myself watching."

"Wow, that's unexpected," Hoshiumi took a seat beside Ushijima on the bench. Romero continued to watch over his shoulder, clearly intrigued by the Japanese form of archery style. "Is this woman a pro?"

"Yes," Ushijima said, showing them the screen. Kageyama glanced over, catching the hint of pride in Ushijima's normally settled tone. "She's the best in Japan. She will be at the next Olympics for archery as well, even though she prefers this."

"I've never really watched archery," Kageyama said, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"I've grown to admire it," Ushijima said. "I'm mostly a fan of the athlete."

"Who is she?" Hoshiumi said, squinting at the screen to look for a name. A wide, bright grin came over your lips and you thrusted your bow into the air. "What's her-"

"She's my girlfriend," Ushijima said calmly, without missing a beat.

Kageyama blinked, looking stunned. Hoshiumi's eyes bulged out of his head. They both looked at each other, jaws dropping.

"She's beautiful!" Romero laughed, clapping Ushijima over the shoulder. "Wakatoshi! Congratualtions! When's the wedding?"

Ushijima looked mildly bothered by the topic. "She says we're still too... young. I don't entirely agree."

"I get you! I get you! Some advice from a married man, you have to reel them in and..."

- You sneezed before the final round, shaking your head with a frown.

(Hope you enjoyed!)

#ko-fi requests #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima x reader #tendou satori

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loisinherlane · 3 years

Text

Consider this my magnum opus of why I love Booster Gold and why you should read these comics, but also: how Michael Carter and his family are connected to time travel. It’s kind of a hot mess because I run through a bunch of comics, but hopefully this makes sense!

Michael Carter, alias Booster Gold, is the first new hero introduced after Crisis on Infinite Earths. Booster is from the 25th century, where he was a college football player who got caught betting on his games and expelled, eventually becoming a janitor in a museum.

(Booster Gold (2007) #1)

At this museum, he befriends a security robot called Skeets. Eventually, Booster decides that he wants the adoration superheroes had in the 20th/21st century, and with future technology, he would be able to join up in the past. So Booster steals a Time Sphere, a suit, and a Legion of Superheroes flight ring. (Wait, the legion is from the 30th century, right? Yes. There are reasons this ring is in the past, and that’s mostly because Booster was always meant to become a superhero.) In the past, Booster establishes himself as a superhero, with a manager and number of sponsors. He’s about making money. This doesn’t necessarily make him a lot of friends. But he joins the Justice League International, makes friends with some heroes (including Ted Kord, the second Blue Beetle), and has a standard fare for a non-central character.

So flash forward to Countdown to Infinite Crisis. For those of you who haven’t read this one: This is a lead-in to the OMAC Project, and later, to Infinite Crisis, where Ted Kord notices a number of things that don’t add up. Unfortunately, Ted is not the most respected hero in the community, and no one quite takes him seriously. Wonder Woman says she’s busy but to keep her updated, and Oracle is trying to get him to pay more attention to other matters.

(Countdown to Infinite Crisis)

So Ted seeks out his best friend Booster to help. Booster, after some initial reluctance, joins up. There’s some noticeable moments where Booster hints that he knows some things about the future (particularly, that Ted is going to die, and the Scarab means that the new Blue Beetle, Jaime Reyes, is about to take over): Booster keeps staring at the newly found Scarab. He asks Ted when he found it. Ted, in his narration, hints that Booster knew Doomsday would kill Superman, and he still took the first punch.

(Countdown to Infinite Crisis)

All of this parallels what happens next: Booster shoos Ted away from the computer and takes over. Booster gets hit by an explosion meant for Ted.

(Countdown to Infinite Crisis)

Consider: Later implications of time travel suggest that some small things can be changed, but the big things can’t. If Booster knew what was going to happen, did Booster only postpone Ted’s death?

With that, Ted does die at the end of this story, and a part of The OMAC Project is Wonder Woman and Booster investigating Ted’s death. But as much as I love Ted, we’re mostly talking about Booster and time travel today. So moving on!

In Infinite Crisis, Booster is the one who fetches Jaime Reyes. After returning to the 25th century to access historical records, he tracks down Jaime via the scarab. (Of course, this is another example of a potential change: Booster says he may be saving millions or billions of lives, but this is unsubstantiated.)

(Infinite Crisis #2)

(Infinite Crisis #5)

So this brings us to 52, the fallout of Infinite Crisis. Booster Gold’s plot, while not obviously central in its introduction, plays a major role in bringing back the multiverse to the Post-Crisis continuity. Booster Gold, in the wake of the loss of his best friend Ted Kord, has sold-out again.

(52 #1)

With the help of Skeets, he’s returned to his origins. He wants to be a hero and make bank. Superman’s not around, so who else could Metropolis turn to?

Booster is on the outs though. First, with the heroes: Ralph Dibny blames him for not realizing his wife Sue was going to be murdered. Beatriz de Costa (Fire) shames him for how he’s acting after Ted’s death.

(52 #7)

(52 #4)

Pay attention to that notepad. Booster writes the names of Rip Hunter and his fellow Time Masters, as well S.T.A.R. Labs Time Travel Division. Everyone but Rip Hunter is crossed out. Rip’s name is circled, but he’s noted as “unlisted?????”

Because he’s noticed a number of events that don’t line up with the history Booster and Skeets remember, Booster goes to visit Rip Hunter in his Time Lab in Arizona. Skeets has to hold the door open because of the lock, so Booster goes in by himself...

(52 #6)

...and sees this... (Feel free to read what’s on the chalkboard. A lot of it hints to happenings in both 52 and the One Year Later event, as well as other stories. It can be fun to make connections.)

(52 #6)

...and this. Yikes.

We soon find out that Booster hired an actor to fake an incident on a subway. Why? Well... that answer’s not so clear. But considering the rest of the story, it’s likely Booster wanted to discredit himself.

(52 #7)

Unfortunately for Booster, this ruins his reputation with the public, and he’s soon replaced by a new, more humble hero: Supernova.

(52 #10)

And the public adores Supernova. Meanwhile, Booster’s sponsors pull out as his reputation goes down the drain.

Booster gets one last moment in the limelight, when he pushes too hard trying to upstage Supernova, and he dies... though he’s recognized as a hero for his tragic sacrifice.

((Hold on if you haven’t read 52. You’re going to find this one funny.))

(52 #15)

So... Booster is dead. Ha. What next? Well, Skeets seeks out Booster’s ancestor, Daniel Carter, for help to get back into the Time Lab. After all, Booster didn’t give Skeets the details.

(52 #19)

Daniel lets Skeets see into the Time Lab, where Skeets finally sees the same things Booster saw.

(52 #19)

Whoops! The real problem is Skeets. A little more menacing now, isn’t it? So Skeets abandons Daniel in the Time Lab, where he’s sucked into a vortex that’s part of Rip’s security measures. Meanwhile, Skeets is free to handle his evil plan. Whatever that is.

Back to Metropolis: Supernova is still out there, doing good. He’s also grabbing items that seem a little... eclectic.

(52 #20)

And everyone is theorizing about who’s really under the mask. Cassie Sandsmark thinks it’s Kon-El. Lex Luthor thinks it’s Superman. Ralph Dibny puts the pieces together...

(52 #31)

But Supernova asks him not to say it out loud.

Later, we see that Supernova is actually working for Rip Hunter. Everything he’s gathered has been for Rip, who, as you can see, is really going through it. (Sad they never followed up on why Rip Hunter was affected like this, but I have my own thoughts that I might say later.)

(52 #36)

Where are they working anyway? In the jarred city of Kandor! Of course, Skeets can’t find them here, can he?

(52 #36)

Whoops. Spoke too soon.

(52 #37)

But who is Supernova? That burning question we’ve had for all these issues?

It’s... Michael Carter! Booster Gold!

(52 #37)

So, as Rip asks, Booster tells him. Booster knew something was off with Skeets. At the Time Lab, he almost asked him. But Rip Hunter arrived and recruited him for the long con. Rip needed Booster to gather materials, but they couldn’t alert Skeets. However, using a suit Rip rigged, Booster could be in two places at once: through time travel. After faking his death (using his real corpse from the future), Booster was sent back in time twelve weeks to complete Supernova’s actions.

Now Rip, Booster, and Skeets are engaged in a battle that, uh... is not continued until Week 50 on panel. If you count this as continued. I just love this panel.

(52 #50)

Actually, Skeets follows Rip and Booster to a lab where T.O. Morrow has searched the Red Torado’s brain to find out the truth of the 52 that he’s been repeating throughout the series.

(52 #51)

Of course, it’s not actually Skeets. The real Skeets was used as a chrysalis for Mister Mind... who has become a horrifying moth hellbent on eating the new multiverse.

(52 #51)

Rip drags Booster out, back to the Time Sphere, where they travel back to the beginning.

(52 #52)

After the events of Infinite Crisis, the multiverse was recreated. 52 identical Earths came into existence, and the same struggle has been taking place on all of them. These Earths are slowly aligning, and for some reason, Rip can see this, but Booster can’t. (Hold tight: Let’s keep in mind, for some reason, Rip was totally non-linear earlier. We’ll come back to this.)

(52 #52)

Rip intends to save all of the Earths, as they slowly settle into the new multiverse, with help from Supernova! ...This time, Daniel Carter, the Carter family ancestor that Skeets/Mister Mind used earlier.

(52 #52)

Bad news is that Mister Mind is still bent on eating a universe. As he eats parts of the various Earths, he changes their history, which leads to each Earth being unique.

(52 #52)

Booster has doubts about their ability to face something this big, but Skeets, now broken from Mister Mind, cheers him on... Booster heads back to the one place he knows to get the right power source, and Rip hints about Booster’s “glory days” soon to come. So now we know there’s a connection between Booster and Rip.

(52 #52)

But where is Booster going to get that power source?

(52 #52)

The immediate aftermath of the first crisis, where he talks a little with very young Ted Kord. (Sad.) Now we have to wonder how Booster knows to go back here? How much about time travel does Booster know yet?

Anyway, together, Rip, Booster, and Daniel succeed in defeating Mister Mind, and the multiverse is restored. Rip is very optimistic!

(52 #52)

So... let’s cut to Booster Gold’s second solo. Notice the title of his first story is “52 Pick-Up.” Booster, after saving the multiverse, wants nothing more than to be a hero again. He wants to join the Justice League again! Unfortunately, he’s recruited by Rip Hunter once again, who makes it clear that Booster’s destiny lies in time travel instead. And the world needs to think Booster is an idiot.

(Booster Gold (2007) #1)

Notice how Rip mentions his father? We’re finally getting somewhere.

Meanwhile, the other weird Time Stuff, that’s going on. Back at Rip Hunter’s Lab, Rip has written a number of interesting things on his chalkboard again.

Notice how Rip notes 1939 (the year Detective Comics was first published), 1985 (Crisis on Infinite Earths), and 2006 (Infinite Crisis). This shows how the crises actually affect time in the DC universe. Rip is, of course, aware of it. Is Booster too? How else would he know about the first crisis?

What is the connection between Rip and Booster anyway? Why does Rip care so much about Booster? Well...

(Booster Gold (2007) #1000000)

That’s right! Booster is actually Rip Hunter’s dad! So a lot of stuff we’ve been over must make more sense now.

But seriously, the Carter family is heavily involved in time travel, and the way it interacts with them is interesting. We’ve already seen how Rip isn’t linear when the timestream is disrupted... but what about the other members? How does this all affect Booster?

Honestly, I’m not sure. And I just ran out of energy for this post. If you want to know more, send an ask! And read the comics. You will not regret it.

#megan liveblogs comics #well not exactly but this is pretty close ig #if i can make ONE person want to know more about booster and the carter family my job is done #i just spent hours on this mess and now i'm about to cry bc it's so bad i'm sorry

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englandsgray · 4 years

Text

Sherlolly Self-Interviews 2020

Well hi 👋

Ignoring the internal image of Gilderoy Lockheart smiling smugly while flashbulbs pop and saying ‘In my autobiography, Magical Me...’ 🙈😆 I shall take the opportunity of this lovely event to introduce myself as a writer of Sherlolly fanfiction on AO3...

I am English and somewhere over 30. I watched the show as it aired, and lost my heart as quickly to Molly Hooper as to Sherlock Holmes. The kiss is British television history. Series 4 is my favourite. Moriarty on the beach is life. The Holmes brothers break my heart every time.

I am extremely lucky to have been provided some questions to answer here by @ohaine and @mybrainrots - huge, huge love and thanks to these two lovelies, and not just for this. I admire you both so much as writers, and your support means the world to me ❤️ Thanks too, to @sherlollyappreciationweek!

Where did you begin to write, and have you written for other fandoms? I wrote my first fanfic when I was eleven years old - a 100 page ramble about The Monkees. Oh yes. Then in 2018, I fell for the characters of the Disney Pixar film Cars and began writing and publishing. So far so random! Writing in this fandom sprang from binge-watching all four series of Sherlock during lockdown. I remembered reading Louise Brealey talking about being disappointed Molly didn’t get chance to ‘roundly kick Sherlock’s arse’ and agreeing with her wholeheartedly. That, over a few weeks, turned into my first fic - Who You Really Are.

You’re a recent (and welcome!) arrival to the Sherlolly ship, and I was wondering if writing in an established, less active than it used to be fandom has been a challenge? Thank you, firstly. My experience of this fandom has been incredibly positive - the sense of welcome has been wonderful. I will admit I was terrified posting the first fic - there are hundreds of times more stories posted daily in the Sherlock fandom as in the one I had some experience of. But I needn’t have worried, it’s been a blast. I will also admit, that it’s no small thing to be surrounded by such brilliant writing and the long-standing passion which goes with it. But I find that inspiring in itself, and I’m very glad to be here - how supportive the fandom are makes me feel like I always have been!

What’s your favourite place and way to write? My aesthetic is Lin-Manuel Miranda in his in-law’s laundry room 🤣 I wrote my first ten-thousand words on the notes app on my phone before my other half told me to stop being ridiculous! I switch between the laptop, my phone and longhand (I’m a sucker for a nice notepad and a Uni-Ball Eye) and, more often than not, not sat up properly at a table.

Since you’ve (done something I’ve never managed successfully and) written a novella length fic... how did you organise/keep track of all the details and where you wanted the story to go? Did you outline/plot in advance? First of all - I would love to see a novella length fic from you @mybrainrots! The final scene of Who You Really Are came to me very early on and I knew I wanted the fic to fit within TFP - a lot of it takes place in the timeframe of the final montage. At first, it was going to be much more about Sherlock’s relationship with the ideas of sentiment and love (the phrase ‘I’m not sentimental about you, I love you,’ haunted me for a while) and I spent some time researching the psychology and playing with scenes from throughout the series - one of my favourites I didn’t go on to use was inspired by the final scene of THoB. Using scenes from the canon gave an automatic structure, and I was always aiming for the final one I wrote early on - the two of them on the beach (everything is about the beach, with me!) As I went along and started, inevitably, to slow down, I mapped out the chapters with a short note of what I wanted to be in each, then would add notes or phrases as they came to me - often emailed from my phone! I had to force myself through a tricky section set in Baker Street at one point, but it came together in the end. I did plot The Pathologist’s Skeletons on paper first, as I found with a casefic which remains a WIP, that I can get confused and lose focus when it comes to details and how to reveal them in a way which stays paced and interesting. I’ll certainly do that from now on with longer stories and cases. How did you keep up enthusiasm for the work? I want to write an original novel, so I am forcing myself to work through the knotty bits and blocks as a learning experience. Not everything is destined to be finished or finessed, of course, but I’m finding this process is building my confidence that I can overcome problems and slow periods. I also find I know when I need some external inspiration - some of my favourite scenes have come to me while out walking the dog or sitting on the beach. I’ve also been inspired by books or other series or things going on in the world, as we all are, and sometimes that’s pushed me on. Plus, of course, I’m a newbie - I’m very much in the honeymoon period of my writing, even though I’ve loved Sherlock for ten years! (Ten years! Bonkers.)

You’ve got a knack for writing Sherlock’s thoughts and capturing his voice. That said, which character do you find easiest to write? Which is the hardest? Thank you so much. I absolutely love writing Sherlock and Mycroft, and I’m sure that’s because they suit my somewhat over-the-top writing style! I find Molly and her POV really difficult. I want the scenes I write from her perspective to sound completely different to Sherlock, but that means writing in a style which doesn’t come as naturally to me. I’m a long way off happy with that at the moment, but I’m enjoying the challenge.

Is there a scene or character that specifically inspired you to start writing Sherlolly? The whole of TFP, but especially from the moment Sherlock arrives at Musgrave onwards. I am desperate to see what a Sherlock Holmes who has been reacquainted with his own heart would look like. I find his emotionality in those final scenes hugely compelling (Mycroft’s office is one of my favourite moments from across all four series) and, as I have always believed in him and Molly, I practically jumped up back in May after watching it and said ‘right, where’s my notebook?!’.

There’s a lovely peaceful, quiet feeling to your fic ‘We’re All Right At The Moment’. Can you tell us what inspired it and if you’ve thought of doing the backstory that goes with it? Thank you! Like everyone, I would go back to January of this year and start again in a heartbeat, but I am hugely fortunate to be able to say that I have a lot to be grateful to the UK lockdowns for. I might never have begun writing in this fandom otherwise, for one, and I have had a brilliant time so far and met some lovely people. Honestly, I don’t feel able to do any sort of justice in my writing to what has happened in the world in any broader sense than drawing on my own experiences of staying at home and enjoying my family. This particular super-short fic sees Molly cutting Sherlock’s hair at home in Baker Street. I wrote it in the evening after I had cut my other half’s hair and had been reminding myself that despite how horribly worried I was - and still am - about everything, we were all right in that moment, and to focus on that as much as possible. I wanted to try to capture that, if for no reason other than to look back on this entire experience and remember something lovely, so I am so pleased to hear you felt the fic did that. It was only after I finished it and reread it, that I realised it is ambiguous as to whether Molly is worried about Sherlock contracting the virus, or whether she is remembering him being treated for it... As I say, I don’t think I could write more about these extraordinary circumstances - perhaps it’s just too close at the moment - so I don’t plan on extending it. But you know how it is, the plot bunnies hop where they will...

Do you have a Sherlolly music playlist? What are your top five favs from the list? Here’s a run down of (6 🙊) songs I have been getting emotional over in the last little while, leading my brain to assign their significance to my favourite couple...

Kissing You - Des’Ree - It’s so 90′s, it’s a bit cheesy, it’s oddly disturbing. It helped me write A Request, Made Properly, and that gave me an excuse to have Sherlock kiss Molly in the snow.

How Long Will I Love You? - Ellie Goulding - part of the playlist, but also in remembrance of a friend who passed away recently. Life is very short, love is forever.

High and Dry - Jamie Cullum - It’s made me emotional for a very long time. The original is my partner’s version of choice, this is mine.

Think About You - Delta Goodrem - Okay, this one isn’t emotional, and it’s not my usual vibe! Blame the zoom exercise class I do! But oh my goodness, it’s Molly. Bless her.

Blinded By Your Grace (P.T.2. F.T. MNEK) - Stormzy - One of the best ever, I reckon. Spent an awful lot of time thinking about angels and demons, grace and what it takes to save someone, while writing my latest - The Pathologist’s Skeletons. This has been in my head most of the (blimmin’) time!

Love Me Like You Do - Ellie Goulding - I didn’t know I was a fan of Ellie until I wrote this list... I don’t subscribe to the theory that the love Molly wants or that which Sherlock has to offer is any lesser because it isn’t ‘normal’ or expected. I don’t think romantic entanglement would come easy to either of them. But it’s still love and it would be beautiful.

Thank you so much for reading. Thanks and love to @ohaine and @mybrainrots. And thank you @sherlollyappreciationweek for the event and for everything you do ❤️

Feel like I should sign off with a quote from the show...

“You’re not a puzzle-solver, you never have been. You’re a drama queen!” Dr John Watson (Moffat & Gatiss) 2014 😜

A fav fic of mine by @mybrainrots

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7563193

A fav fic of mine by @ohaine

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10562904

My stuff:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnglandsGray/works

#sherlolly #sherlollyselfinterview20 #sherlock #sherlockbbc #writing #fanfic #ao3 #ao3 author #read on ao3

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wonderlustlucas · 5 years

Text

i hemoglobin you - byun baekhyun

⇢ prompt “Yeah, but Baekhyun doesn’t really talk romantics with me.” ⇢ pairing baekhyun x gender neutral reader ⇢ word count 4.8k ⇢ genre fluff ⇢ warnings swearing. kinda descriptive when it comes to the actual needle idk i’m bad at warnings if needles make u uncomfy don’t read. ⇢ summary You’d think, after some time, your crush on the annoying little shit named Byun Baekhyun would fade away. Fortunately for him (and you), falling out of love with someone brighter than a star is near impossible. Plus, needles are scary and even med kids need their hand held sometimes. Alternatively: Junmyeon found dead in a ditch.—friends to lovers!au ; college blood drive!au ⇢ a/n ok yes i realize this is an odd setting for fanfiction but like,,, my school had a blood drive & what happens in this is exactly what i experienced, minus the whole crush revealing they like me with a kiss thing. so i decided to WRITE IT OKAY?! also, i really tried to make this gender, color, absolutely everything reader neutral but then when i was editing i saw the nurse call y/n ‘miss’ so if i missed anything pls lmk so i can edit it!!! thank u & i hope u enjoy ♥︎

If it weren’t for that time you tried anal with your ex-boyfriend back in high school, you’d consider Byun Baekhyun to be the biggest pain in your ass. If asked, you definitely could come up with a hefty list of all the things about him that annoy the living daylights out of you, things from the unnecessary high volume of his voice to the time he introduced himself as “Bacon” on the first day of your internship at the hospital.

Truthfully, however, it all comes down to one certain realization: seeing Baekhyun’s stupidly cute smile has become the sole thing you look forward to everyday. For the first two years at university, you did not know Byun Baekhyun. You knew of him. As fate would have it, you were bound to meet at some point with an undergraduate enrollment of around four thousand, and your sanity began its downward tumble the third week of junior year.

At the time, you couldn’t quite put your finger on why he left such a sour taste in your mouth. From a distance, he was a star; this great, big bundle of sunshine and joy, full of life and spirit and in the eyes of someone as mild-mannered as yourself, he was magnificent and everything you wished you were. But, once the barrier between you fell and your relationship swiftly jumped from strangers to friends, you realized just how polar opposite you were. Always going out of his way to meet new people and a little too chaotic for you personally, Baekhyun draws attention to himself without even trying. And you can’t blame him— it’s hard to go unnoticed when you prance around with a thousand-watt smile and the energy of a three-month-old golden retriever.

Sometimes, you wished he had chosen one of the arts as his major rather than health sciences.

Nevertheless, it is hard to ignore such an innocently beautiful soul such as Baekhyun. No matter how many times you told yourself to find a new lab partner, no matter how many countless nights you found yourself rolling out of bed, bundled up in your blankets and into the cold hallway of your residence hall to knock on Park Chanyeol’s door and tell him to open the window for his frost-bitten roommate hiding in the bushes, no matter how many this or how many that’s, you couldn’t help but fall in love with the friendship and chaos that came with Byun Baekhyun.

If it weren’t for that time you tried anal with your ex-boyfriend back in high school, you’d consider Byun Baekhyun to be the love of your life.

“Absolutely not,” you interrupt, looking up from your clipboard in order to search the crowd for the younger boy. Baekhyun groans, wrapping his arms around your waist and dropping his head on your shoulder. “C’mon, ___. He’s fine, you know Sehun.” He whines, adding a drawn-out ‘please’ against your ear. It makes your stomach sink for reasons you’d rather not disclose.

“Baek,” you scoff, wiggling out of his grip despite his best efforts of keeping you against him, “are you serious? Sehun quite possibly may be the smallest person in this room. He needs to rest.”

“He’s twenty pounds heavier than me!”

“Taller, too.”

“___,” he groans, crossing his arms over his chest and mustering his best straight face. It makes you laugh.

“I’m not arguing with you. He did Power Red; he’s not going anywhere. If he didn’t want to miss chem, then he should have made his appointment later. It’s one class. He’ll be fine.”

“Why must you be so stubborn?” Baekhyun sighs in defeat, combing muted silver hair away from his forehead. Your eyes follow the movement, distracted for hardly a second, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “I learned it from you,” you smile, nudging his arm with your elbow. The signature tilted smirk returns. “Tell Sehun I’m sorry, but I—well, we—can’t risk letting him leave. He could have a delayed effect and end up passed out in the staircase. Twenty more minutes and he can go.”

“I get it,” he hums, snatching the tentative schedule out of your hands before you can even protest. For as rash as he may be, Baekhyun is not dumb. And even if he was, he knows that when you are as unrelenting as you are now, there’s no point in arguing. “I think I’m gonna try and donate.”

“What?” You exclaim, maybe a little too loud if all the Red Cross employees shooting annoyed glares your way is anything to go by. Baekhyun truly is started to rub off on you. “I thought you were scared of needles?”

“Heights, ___,” he scoffs, “needles aren’t my favorite, but if I’m going to eventually put them in other people, I better get used to them for myself.” As he explains, he rolls up the sleeves of his hoodie and presses at the soft skin on the inside of his arm before stretching it out for your examination. “I mean,” you hum, holding him still and feeling around for a thick enough vein, “you definitely have the veins. Do you want me to hold your hand?” You sing the last part cutely, lips puckered out at him.

“Will you? Since Sehun has to stay over there, I have no one else,” Baekhyun retorts, using your previous resolve to his advantage. You can’t tell if he’s oblivious or simply choosing to ignore your mockery. Rolling your eyes, you drop his arm and reach for your clipboard, tearing it out of his grasp. “Don’t you have anything else better to do than annoy me? Aren’t you supposed to be watching the donors?”

“Well, yes, but—”

Baekhyun starts, trailing behind you before the shout of his name promptly cuts him off. “Baekhyun! Can you help Jongdae carry in more water?” See, precisely as you were saying.

“But I like annoying you,” he pouts, hugging onto your arm and holding on tight. “Sorry, Baek,” you offer, feelings in shambles because 1) he is so cute you could cry but 2) he’s really distracting and now you finally will be able to focus, at least while he’s gone. Frowning, he releases your arm at last, combing his hair back and once again, you feel like throwing up.

“Go see if you can donate when you’re done,” you remind him, nodding toward the rather quiet donor room. “Yeah, I will. Wish me luck,” Baekhyun grins, blowing you a kiss. Without a second thought, you blow one back.

You have begun walking on an incredibly unstable rope, you realize, the thin line distinguishing the way you look at Baekhyun diminishing each and every day. On one side, he is simply your friend, your lab partner, a coworker of sorts. Comrades working toward the same goal, and once it’s reached, you go your separate ways. But on the other hand, he is much more than that. Now that you no longer live on campus, days spent bullshitting in the dining hall or dorms over, you most certainly do not spend as much time together.

And yet, nothing has changed. Except for your feelings, of course. This time last year, you were minding your own damn business when Chanyeol had to go and mention how much time Baekhyun spends with you instead of him. “Sorry?” You had offered, unsure of what the crease in his brow meant.

“No… don’t be sorry,” he hummed, deep in thought and stabbing at his salad in disinterest, “not to be blunt, but he usually bounces from person to person each week. He’s been sticking to you for, what, six months? Something is up.”

“Don’t you live with him?” You asked, confused. What was he getting at here?

“Yeah, but Baekhyun doesn’t really talk romantics with me.”

“Romantics?” You exclaimed, spit flying from your lips. Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice.

“He definitely likes you. God, it all makes sense now! Okay, I need to do some interrogating,” suddenly rushing, Chanyeol was up and swinging his bag over his shoulder before you could blink an eye. “See ya, ___!”

“Wait!” You yelled out for him, but the obnoxiously tall boy just kept running, dodging students meandering around the dining hall. Slumping in your chair, you eventually turned to look out the window, watching as he continued his flight across campus. “Good talk.”

Nothing ever came up afterward. No answers, no clarifications, nada. Chanyeol never brought it up again, despite the expectant raise of your brows the next lunch you had alone with him. You were content shrugging it off— it was out of your hands. If Baekhyun liked you, so be it.

Or so you thought. Turns out, having such unanswered questions dangling over your head every time Baekhyun left his friends for you at parties, fell asleep with his head on your shoulder during chem, or arrived at your front door with your favorite boba in hand just because he ‘was driving by’ left your mind racing almost as fast as your heart. You thought, for some time, that you could dodge such budding emotions by countering it with all the things you didn’t like about Baekhyun. (Spoiler: it didn’t work.)

Even now, as you watch him catch up with Jongdae, the left side of your brain has already begun arguing with the right. You miss his annoying ass already, one side points out. But he was a distraction, now you have double the students to check in, the other reasons. With a heavy sigh, you shake your head to rid such enraging thoughts and turn to said students, counting each one before making your way to the first in line.

He can’t donate. You realize this before he has even left his seat.

From across the gymnasium, you have continued glancing his way as he went through the mini physical. Just before the finger prick, he shot you a thumbs up and a beaming smile bright enough to challenge the Sun before jerking in his seat at the sudden pinch. Laughing, the grin you returned has not even left your face before his shoulders are sagging, a cloud of disappointment replacing the anxious excitement that was there hardly ten seconds ago. Your smile is gone just as quickly as his.

Standing, Baekhyun nods one last time to the nurse before making his way over, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck from side to side. “Low iron?” You guess, opening your arms for him to nestle into your side like the little munchkin he is. “Yeah,” he mumbles, miserable, and you cringe knowing he’s going to be like this all day now. “I wish I could donate, but…” You drone emptily, trying to change the subject despite the deceitfulness of your ‘wish.’ Over your dead body would you lie on one of those tables and have a harpoon in your arm.

“You should, now that I can’t,” he hums, breath warm on your skin. Convincing as snuggly Baekhyun is, it’s not happening. “Yeah, I’ll pass,” you snort, offering a faux smile to a group of sophomore girls making their way in, shooting confused and envious glances your way. “Make sure to grab a water before starting your Rapid Pass, ladies. If you have not eaten much today, there are snacks by Katie,” you spew, pointing to said girl across the room, “if you have any questions, let me know.” With one last feeble smile, you turn your back to them because, well, it’s awkward facing multiple females whose eyes are trained solely on the boy clinging to you.

“You’re hot when your all doctor,” Baekhyun whispers, lips brushing ever so softly against your collarbone. Suddenly, you regret taking your sweatshirt off during lunch. Swallowing past the panic rising in your throat, you scoff. “Doctor? What doctor are you seeing that directs their patients toward donuts, muffins, danishes—”

“Hot ones, I guess,” he interrupts, smirking against your skin. “Ooooh ‘kay,” you wheeze, heart racing and eyes wide as you wiggle away from him, “y’know, maybe I will donate. Just so you stop bugging me.” Gasping, Baekhyun fakes a bullet to the heart. “Ah, but here’s the thing,” he counters, following close behind as you make your way to the front table, “my job is to distract donors from the needle, hold their hand, tell them ‘good job!’ So, it looks like you’re stuck with me.”

Groaning, you choose to ignore the inexhaustible boy and smile to Lauren once you have reached her. “Do you know if anyone can cover for me for a little? I’m going to try and donate.”

Gasping, she ruffles through the papers spread about her for the volunteer log. Then, “You should be fine. After those girls, the next appointment isn’t until two. I thought you hated this whole concept?”

Snorting, you pull one of the laptops towards you and begin filling out the information needed for a walk-in. “Yeah, well,” tilting your head in Baekhyun’s direction, you sigh, “he couldn’t donate, so now I feel obligated to. Plus, I need a break.”

“Ah,” Lauren hums, writing your name and ‘Walk-In’ on a sticker before passing it to you, “are you guys…?”

Immediately catching what she is hinting at, you jump up from your knelt position and quickly return to your station. “Nope! Negative! Okay, bye Lauren! Thanks!” Laughing, she chooses to ignore your antics, watching after you with a knowing smile when Baekhyun realizes you have left and scrambles to catch up.

You’re hoping you won’t be eligible since you left the country for vacation with your family nine months ago.

Never mind. It’s fine.

Perhaps your heart rate will be too high. You’re pretty anxious, after all.

84. Shit.

You flinch when the quiet-mannered nurse pricks your ring finger. Praying that your iron will be too low, you lean forward in your seat just enough to see the machine’s reading. 13.4. Fuck.

“Alright, I’m just gonna need you to read this first paragraph and sign here,” she directs you, using a pen to point at each spot. When she stands to wave for the next potential donor, you glance up to search for Baekhyun. You could use one of his smiles right about now.

And what you ask for, you receive. Finding your gaze instantaneously, he shoots you bright, encouraging grin and a thumbs up. It’s enough to calm your nerves. A little.

Offering an uncomfortable smile back, you return to your paperwork and hurriedly finish up, your leg bouncing ceaselessly. “All done?” The nurse returns, smiling softly at you and taking the papers when you nod. “You can head over to the third table in the middle.” “Okie,” you squeak, nice, “thank you!”

Good god, what happened to never allowing one of these needles to go in your arm? Sure, you have had blood tests done before, Hell, you have even given someone else one! But this… this is different. This is no ordinary needle, and you certainly do not have Byun Baekhyun veins.

“How are you doing today?” The Red Cross worker greets you once you have reached the table, smile warm and comforting. Seoyeon, her nametag reads. “I’m, ah… I’ve been better, honestly,” your voice comes out shaky and weak. You cringe. Going to med school and you’re whining over a needle. A big, fat, wide needle that will stay in your arm for more than five minutes. “Aw, no! Why’s that?” Seoyeon pouts, shuffling through your papers and slapping a big sticker onto the bag your blood, eventually, will fill.

“I have pretty tiny veins, so I’m really nervous this isn’t going to go well for me,” you admit, artfully rolling the sleeves of your tee even higher. Humming as she finishes carrying over the rest of the equipment, Seoyeon helps you onto the cushioned table before standing beside you, reaching for your arms. “Well,” she starts, brushing over each one for a few seconds before tying a tourniquet around your right bicep, “lucky for you, we do in fact check to make sure your veins are big enough. Hansol, can you double-check that this is alright?”

Your nerves seemingly do not know how to feel at the given moment. On one hand, these are professionals. They know what they’re doing. Plus, Seoyeon is lovely and has certainly eased your anxiety. Nevertheless, you realize that if your veins are okay, that needle is going to be in you in minutes.

This Hansol skirts around the table to feel the two veins Seoyeon has gone back and forth prodding. “Hm,” he grunts, pressing harder on the vein set deeper beneath your skin, “this one is good.” Oh, Christ. “Okay! Thanks,” Seoyeon smiles, then, once he has left her side, “you can lie back this way, sweetie.”

“Okay,” you sigh, settling back and resting your head on the pillow. Unsure of how to situate yourself, you awkwardly cross your legs and nestle your left arm into the pockets of your joggers, right arm dangling over the edge of the table. Then, just as you have closed your eyes, “___!”

Oh, good. This should be interesting. “Hey, Baek,” you smile at the boy as he jogs over, stopping on your left side. “You made it! No backing out now, right?”

“No, no. I’m praying for the best,” you hum, turning away from him to look straight up at the ceiling as Seoyeon begins sanitizing your arm. “You’re gonna be fine,” Baekhyun sings, tugging your hand out of your pocket to intertwine his fingers with yours, “if Sehun could do it, so can you.”

“I’m just marking where your vein is, no need to tense up,” Seoyeon interrupts, chuckling at how easily your posture has gone rigid at the sensation. Funny, how you only tensed up because of Baekhyun’s tender gesture. “I know I’ll be okay, I just,” anxiously licking the desert-dryness of your lips, you once again turn to Baekhyun, “I’m not looking forward to feeling this thing in my arm for ten minutes.”

“Nah,” he giggles, thumb swiping back and forth against your skin, “I’ll distract you!” Yeah, well you do that every day anyway, you snort to yourself, shamelessly taking advantage of the moment and scanning over his features, zoning in on the pinkness of his lips and the tiny moles sprinkled about his face. From this angle, even the shitty LED lighting of the gym somehow makes him look immaculate. “Alright, I’m going to count down from three,” Seoyeon interrupts your gawking, though you haven’t really processed her words until she’s on two. “One…” She utters, and you are instantly squeezing your eyes closed just as hard as your squeezing Baekhyun’s hand as the needle first breaks skin.

“Oh, shit,” you heave once it’s completely sheathed, rolling the plastic grip anxiously in your increasingly sweaty hand, “that actually wasn’t so bad.” Now that Baekhyun has moved to stand directly behind your head, you stare straight up at him and muster your best smile. Really— it was not as bad as you imagined, felt just like regular blood work. As long as you don’t focus too much on it remaining in your arm, you’ll be fine.

“See! I knew you could do it,” he cheers, letting go of your free hand in favor of combing his fingers through your hair. “Ooh,” you quite literally purr, leaning your head back to give him further access, “so, Mr. This-Is-My-Job, is this how you distract donors?” Chuckling, Baekhyun continues to comb through the knots that have accumulated throughout the day. “No,” he admits, “I usually just talk to them about what they did over the weekend. You’re an exception, though.”

Christ, you hope he can’t feel the way your face heats up at his words. “Ah, well, this is great. Thanks, Baek,” humming, you cannot help but let your eyelids fall closed. Peak comfort when you're donating blood? Not what you would have expected.

“So, what did you do this weekend?”

“Well, I went to Target, which was kind of disappointing.”

“Oh, yeah! Didn’t I see on your story that you only got one pair of pants or something?”

“Yeah! Crazy, honestly. I needed to pick up some things and they were completely out. Even their clothes were kind of slacking.” Before he can reply, Seoyeon returns to check up on you. Gasping in surprise, she gives your shoulder a congratulatory nudge. “___! Look at you! You’ve already filled up a fourth of the bag.”

“Oh shit, really?” Laughing, you try to lean up in order to see, but there’s no use. “Have you been drinking a lot of water today?” She asks. Well, now that you think about it… “Huh. I guess I have. Nice.” Chuckling, she fiddles with the tape holding the needle in place before turning away once more.

“So,” Baekhyun starts conversation up once more, “did you do anything else?”

“I hung out with Junmyeon on Sunday again.” Suddenly, you wish you didn’t tell him that.

“Oh,” Baekhyun coughs, accidentally yanking too hard on the tiny braid he’s attempted by your temple, “how was that?”

“It was fun. He’s a great guy…” Clearly, you are hesitant and he easily catches it. “But…?”

“I don’t know,” he’s not you, “I feel really immature and lame compared to him. He’s like, super chill and polite and somehow, it makes me nervous and then I act like I’m on crack. He needs someone older than him, not younger. A lawyer, or something.”

“___, you’re getting a degree in Neuroscience. What the fuck is lame about that?” Baekhyun scoffs, undoing the braid and starting over on the other side. “I don’t know! I guess I just don’t have romantic feelings for him. Everyone keeps pushing me to go for it and he really is amazing, but… it’s just not what I want.”

“No one’s forcing you to date him, ___.”

Well, yeah, but he doesn’t know the bit where your friends are doing it so you can get over a certain someone else. “I know. I think he’ll be fine when I tell him I just want to be friends.”

When a heavy silence falls over you, you rush to change the topic. “So! What did you do this weekend?”

“I played New Horizons,” Baekhyun chuckles, giving up on the braid and going back to simply combing through your hair. When you laugh, you feel the vibration in your arm and realize with another wave of surprise that you still have a needle in you. Damn, looks like you’re a pro at this. Who knew!

“All weekend?” You snort. He definitely went out for drinks with Chanyeol or something.

“Yes, sadly,” oh, never mind, “I couldn’t help it. It’s so relaxing. I can’t wait to go home and play.” He sounds ashamed. “Hey,” you shrug, “sometimes we need a mental health day. Or weekend.”

“Or week.”

“Month?”

“Year, I’m thinking.”

In the midst of your giggle fit, Seoyeon returns, evidently shutting the two of you up. “You’re all done! I just have to take a few tubes and then I’ll tell you when I’m going to take the needle out.”

“Wow, was it just me or did that seem really quick?” Baekhyun asks, frantically moving to hold your hand when he notices you wince at the uncomfortable feel of the needle moving slightly as Seoyeon fills each tube. “No, you’re right,” she hums, “six minutes! Wasn’t so bad, right?”

“Not at all,” you agree, blinking up at the ceiling. Still, you can’t wait to be done. “You sure? Your hand is shaking really bad,” Baekhyun murmurs, hovering directly above your face. He looks funny, messy hair cascading around him and cheeks looking extra squishy. It makes you smile. “Yeah, just nervous for it to come out, actually. Feel like it’s gonna hurt,” you admit, accidentally squeezing his hand when all Seoyeon does is remove the tape on your wrist keeping the line in place.

“Alright, you ready? It’s just going to a be a little pinch,” Seoyeon interrupts, giving your fingertips a reassuring squeeze. “Yeah,” you hum, instinctively sucking in a deep breath and squeezing your eyes shut.

The sensation that first registers in your brain is not that of Seoyeon slowly withdrawing the needle from beneath your skin. Actually, it’s unnoticeable behind the gentle pressure lingering upon your lips, soft to touch and minty in taste. Blistex, you recognize, eyes flying open just in time to see Baekhyun leaning back up. “Did you just—”

“Alright, keep pressure on this for me and keep your arm straight up,” Seoyeon interjects, oblivious to what just transpired as she presses a hefty square of gauze to your skin. You oblige, brain cells going haywire still trying to piece together the fact that Byun Baekhyun just kissed you.

“Do you do that to everyone?” Is the first thing you blurt to the grinning boy, who, surprisingly so, wears cheeks just as rosy as yours. “No,” he laughs, moving to the side and continuing to stroke you hand, “just donors named ___.”

“Oh,” wrinkling your nose, you slowly lean upright once Seoyeon instructs you to do so, “can I ask why or am I just special?” When she busies herself for few moments cleaning up all of the equipment, Baekhyun releases your hand in order to cup your face with both hands. “Well, of course you’re special,” he murmurs, thumbs swiping against your jaw, “but I figured this was a good opportunity to show you how much I like you.”

It takes a fat second for you to realize what he’s just said. Like you?

“I’m gonna kill him,” you groan, definitely not the response he was expecting if the way he retracts is anything to go by. “Kill who?”

“Chanyeol! Like, a year ago he went all detective mode on me trying to figure out if you liked me, but then he never said anything again, so for the past year I’ve been going nuts trying not to fall for you because I figured if he had nothing to say, you probably didn’t like me like that, yet here we are a year later and—”

In the midst of your mindless babbling, Seoyeon coughs, promptly shutting you up and you turn to her with a wince. “I just need to wrap you up, then you can head over to Recovery,” her attempt to hide her smile is futile but you don’t comment on it, instead allowing her to wrap elastic tape around your elbow. “Leave this on for about an hour, or you can take it off after twenty minutes. Other than that, you’re good to go!”

“Thanks so much, Seoyeon,” smiling appreciatively at her, you slowly turn to slide off the table with the help of her grip on your other arm. Before you are even fully upright, Baekhyun has rounded the table to help, slipping his arm between yours. Honestly, you feel perfectly fine, but you’re not about to go arguing right now. Once he starts leading the two of you toward Recovery, he breaks the silence once more. “So, were you finished back there, or can I talk?”

Cringing, you shake your head, avoiding looking him in the eyes. “No, I’m done.”

“Good,” at this, you pinch his arm, “Chanyeol didn’t say anything because I told him not to.” Baekhyun shushes you when your mouth opens to argue. “I thought I would make a move a lot sooner. But every time I went to, I just started panicking thinking you didn’t feel the same, because, y’know, you don’t show much emotion. And then you started hanging out with Junmyeon… but that doesn’t seem to be working out, so I decided to wing it.”

Your jaw certainly must be on the floor. Stopping by the snacks, Baekhyun releases your arm so you can fill your hands with a donut, apple juice, and a bag of Cheez-Its. “Glad to see we’re both airheads,” you grumble with a mouthful of donut, “I say we blame Chanyeol.” Making sure you safely seat yourself onto the mats spread around the room, Baekhyun then joins and sits crisscross across from you. “I agree. It’s his fault.”

Then, once you have stopped laughing, Baekhyun leans in close, face centimeters from yours and evidently stealing all the air from your lungs. God, he sure is beautiful. “This means you’ll go out with me, right?” He whispers, wiping away a sprinkle that has managed to stick itself to the corner of your lips.

“I thought you were going to play New Horizons when you got home?” You tease, raising one arm to sling across his shoulders. Groaning, he finally cups your face in his hands, strawberry pink lips ever so slightly brushing yours as his smirk deepens. “I am, but you can come watch.”

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