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#just finished the last main story chapter
yazthebookish · 1 day
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Maybe I'll spoil you guys and talk about Gwynriel and ACOTAR5 and anything related to it overall. I recently finished my HOFAS reread and have some fresh thoughts. I'll let my thoughts guide me and some of these points I've already addressed in my insta stories yesterday. I just rather share a lengthy post here since I'll only tag under #gwynriel.
I often see arguments about how Gwyn and Azriel can't move the plot forward because the series is centered on the Archeron sisters.
First, that's not true because Sarah is following what she called "a traditional romance route". She's following the same patterns of Nalini Singh, Kresley Cole, and Lisa Kleypas where they publish multiple books in the same series following different couples.
This is fitting for a series like ACOTAR because it's romance-centered. And Sarah have already said that each couple is getting one book and there will likely be more books beyond ACOTAR6.
Saying that doesn't dismiss the importance of the sisters to the story, Feyre already has a trilogy centered on her. The spin-off just follows different characters including the sisters.
I won't try hard to convince people on this because I've already posted almost everything Sarah said about the spin-off series and what's it's about. So if the next book is not centered on an Archeron sister, that's for Sarah to bamboozle the fandom with.
One thing that stuck out to me is when I compared the ending of ACOSF with the scene of Bryce giving Nesta Gwydion and seeming like she left Nesta with a new quest.
First, this is what the text says, and this is Chapter 80, the very last chapter in ACOSF:
Succeeding in the Blood Rite didn't mean the training stopped. No, after she and her friends told Cassian and Azriel most of the details of their ordeal, the two commanders had compiled a long list of mistakes that the three of them had made that needed to be corrected, and the others wanted to learn from them, too. So they would keep training, until they were all well and truly Valkyries. Gwyn, despite the Rite, had returned to living in the library.
1. The Valkyries are not yet a unit.
2. SJM only and specifically highlighted that Gwyn, despite the Rite, returned to living in the library. It was like "hey, remember all the talk Gwyn did about wanting to leave the library after two years? Yeah that's on hold a bit but keep that in mind". She didnt even add Emerie or the other priestesses to that sentence.
With Nesta being left with Gwydion to find out why the 8-pointed star was tattooed on her, I don't think the next book will start with "hey Elain take this sword and deal with it". Who are Nesta's main companions now? Gwyn and Emerie.
I'll be back to the Valkyries but let's just talk about Azriel for a bit.
It is so painfully obvious to me that Azriel is being handed the Illyrian plot on a golden platter. How big or small of a plot it is depends on SJM, but it's important based on the fact that she fleshed out the Illyrian's origins and tied them to the crossover AND making Truth-teller the knife of Enalius.
That is a big deal for an Illyrian like Azriel.
And I quote my friend Lacie on this, it is very poetic for Azriel to be the owner of the knife that originally belonged to the person who freed his own people from the Daglan's clutches, perhaps because he saw his people are more than just slaves to the Daglan—how powerful would it be for Azriel, who loathes his own people, to parallel Enalius.
And for years some people were against Azriel dealing with this plot because he shouldn't make peace with his "abusers", its true his own family and some Illyrians failed him but he is condemning an entire population. Good people like Emerie and Balthazar. Even Rhys's mother, who had valid reasons to hate her people especially as a female, still made sure to make Rhysand connect with his Illyrian heritage and he even goes on to say that his mother didn't forget what they did to her but still loved her people.
If both Cassian and Rhysand (and by extension the author) continue to flag Azriel's hatred of the Illyrians as an issue—then it is a damn big issue for it to be addressed repeatedly.
Okay so to address my final point about Gwyn and Azriel and how they can move the plot forward.
Now I didn't detail out much about what the next book will deal with because that's another post (and I already have a post on that).
All of our theories and predictions are based on information that is available to us. Saying Azriel and Gwyn cannot move the plot forward does not make any sense because the central plot is tied to multiple characters, Archeron or not.
If SJM wants to make a character move the next book's plot forward, she can do it because she's in control of the story. She's in control of the narrative. She's in control of the characters.
The characters are puppets and this is an unfinished story. If some characters would add more value and make for a more interesting story before the others, she can decide on that. If she wants to make Eris the protagonist of the next book, she can easily do that whether the fandom wants it or not.
Let me give you an example of minor characters that pushed the plot forward and became main characters: Yrene Towers and the Hind. These kind of arguments could've been used for them in HOEAB or HOSAB and Pre-TOD. Before HOSAB/HOFAS and TOD, could we have predicted that they would have played a crucial role before those books? Not likely because they had minimal appearances and were not part of the main cast. This is what I'm talking about.
You can't know how a character will contribute to a story until you see how it all unfolds. We can make guesses on the information we have which is why I believe three characters are likely to join the main cast: Gwyn, Emerie, and Eris.
Why is it so easy to accept that Emerie might be sharing a book with an original character like Mor but it's hard to comprehend the fact that Gwyn could also share a book with Azriel? Because Emerie showed up in ACOFAS? To me that's not really a strong argument based on Sarah's writing and what we have in the books, she doesn't really pick based on who showed up the earliest. Here's a good example: Hypaxia, who showed up earlier, didn't even get her own chapters but the Hind did.
And there's one argument I recall about how I need to rely on Nesta to have a plot focused on Gwyn or the Valkyries in the next book. Nesta's arc is clearly not over based on HOFAS, but does that mean she's getting a POV? Not necessarily. I don't think she is. Gwyn is the perfect candidate for us to see what's going on with Nesta post-HOFAS and how they all deal with the Valkyries and whatever Sarah will set up with them.
There is this whole Valkyrie/Illyrian conflict that could be triggered as a result of the Blood Rite, with Ramiel definitely being an important location to explore in the next book, we also have the Pegasi and the Prison and the implications of the crossover. It makes sense to have an Illyrian and a Valkyrie POV to deal with some plots in the next book.
"Gwyn contributes to nothing" we can't know until the book is out. How sure are we that maybe SJM won't connect her to the crossover by making her mysterious father a Worldwalker? Or Prince of Hel? Or an Asteri? Maybe I'm right maybe I'm wrong.
"But Koschei! And the Human Queens!" Koschei will always be a background player pulling on the strings until the final book as it's obvious he is the big bad in the series, unless someone even worse is revealed. But no one is dismissing Koschei or the Human Queens messing around.
Literally what's the point of the story or the fun elements of surprises or plot twists if you need Sarah to list down everything that the next books will deal with. That's not how a story develops to me. I don't need to know everything in advance to just know how it will go. That's like knowing spoilers early on and checking off with each book what happened and what didn't happen. I feel like it's close to how a lot of readers were disappointed with not having enough ACOTAR in HOFAS, because Sarah implied half of the book would be set in Prythian. So by the time the book came out and it wasn't that, people were vocal about it.
In my opinion, SJM set a good foundation for Gwyn's arc to build up on in ACOSF and her arc is not over. We won't get mentions of her still carrying the guilt of her sister's death or not leaving the library after she said she's sick of being there for two years without us seeing resolution for that. She wouldn't be in Azriel's bonus chapter if she is not involved with him.
To conclude, my reread still affirms to me that the next book with an Azriel/Gwyn book. Azriel is clearly being set in the forefront.
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tea-is-toast · 8 months
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Get Rafayel out of my sight
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noahmullariii · 4 months
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the rage I feel when reading Blood of Olympus chapters 45-56 is almost equivalent in magnitude to the absolute joy I experience when reading The Last Olympian chapters 1-23.
remember when percabeth was good? when they meant the world to each other but had other people they cared about (nico, for one. both of them. so much), other worries and other storylines aside from their romantic plot? and when nico's completed arc wasn't repeated for no reason other than to dump more trauma on the youngest character in the series? when background characters were included in the story not for all the unnecessary last minute romantic subplots but because they were fun and fascinating to learn more about? and were actually friends with main characters? remember when grover was percy and annabeth's best friend forever? and antagonists were actually interesting and intimidating and had compelling goals? and the story revolved around friendship and family and loyalty? and death was definite and loss was palpable and battles were thrilling?
yeah. good times.
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ellies-enrichment · 1 year
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i can't believe i made so many text posts and my queue is still empty 2 days later does it not know i had a headache and needed it to keep going with new exciting posts that i haven't made because my head hurt
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mejomonster · 10 months
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To get good at telling stories... writing stories... one must... practice by writing stories ;-;
#rant#i tell u what i think id have functioned well in a wrbnovel publishing format. but i dont think#any good sites for that exist in english as of yet? (i think theres one but its contract is Yikes i heard)#but just like. the idea of publishing chapter ever 1-2 weeks until youre done. maybe 20 chapters maube 2000. maybr you never finish.#most of the chapters free and maybe idk you make some advertizing money on ads viewed on your chapter page. or make the last couple extras#paid only idk. but the big thing? the point im getting to - sorry i got lost in the sauce -#my point is: you probably DO write shit at first. or write fine with some SHIT ARCS or rushed chapters to hit ur weekly updates#and 5 years from then youll look back and wanna overhaul some of those fucking stories (weve seen many a jjwxc writer revise later).#but wow will you have practiced writing a LOT.#youll have 100k 500k 1 million 5 million words worth of writing under your belt in a few years#and youll probably be a hell of a lot better at knowing how to make more chaptwrs on average interezsting and Building Consistently to your#main plot and arcs. you'll probably get much bettwr at raw scheduling of wriitng and pre-planning that works for you and structure mapping#youll have a much better idea of your personal strengths whrn you need to lean on them for a rough month when your story's turned#into a mess. youll value your own writing more (i hope) cause LOOK how much you fucking accomplished.#like. npss? dmbjs author? idk about others but i can definitely see the improvement in wriitng skill#between dmbj book 1 and the recent heihua book and mountain village book#(in terms of style in word choice. and goals for the story set out to be told)#i look at priest and newer novels by priest are as impressive as any literary novel ive ever analysed#(and older ones while i also love i do see their slightly rougher word choice and how some were executed a bit#more up and down/not as tightly)#i just. agh. i am :c feeling that ill probably write 200k words this year#and none of it will be as good as i want. but i NEED to write these first 200k#because the only way i get better. get to the way i want to write. is to make the progress of improvement with this first 200k.#ToT fun fact i wrote 170k words this year. WOW. and maybe 400k words of fanfic in the 4 years prior (so 100k words on average)#i know i am imptoving. i just gotta keep at it.#also? annoying i cant focus my attention lmao. 160k words is mkre than enough to finish a 1st draft novel#but me? i split those among like 20 projects this year. so the novel most written so far is still only at 40k#and im probably going to need 60k more words to finish it
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the-nsr-family · 2 years
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mmmmm maybe I will come back for real this time.
I lowkey want to like. write a fanfic. issue is I’m already running one for SU and I’d never forgive myself if I abandoned my readers in the middle of such an intense moment.
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I love being insane and rambling/loredumping for over an hour in a voice note about a niche thing in the lore/world of my nonexistent book that will probably never come up and is probably not important to the story at all that I know of because I haven't really started writing it yet besides two chapters and some snippets that were like a few years ago because I cannot be bothered to do research for a different WIP that is not even past the basic stages (the real inciting incident hasn't even happened) bc it's not a current priority before finishing the first draft that I have been working on for the last four years or the first draft of the other WIP I've been working on since the year two thousand and sixteen.
#just writer things#truly hate my brain sometimes like why am I getting trivia for a book I have barely written like 2#20K* words for like I haven't even opened the doc for it in like 8 months and I haven't actually added anything for over 2 years now so.#I don't even have any particular plans to get to it until I at least finish the 2 WIPs I'm working on rn—#which includes one I've been writing the first draft for since 2018 and a basically done first draft of a WIP from like 2016#both are missing the 3rd act bc I suck at writing cliamxes + my writing style for either books isn't suited for that so it'll take a while#like the 2016 one is at 120K words and literally only needs 1 more chapter and an epilogue so maybe like 20K more words.#there's supposed to be a big climactic battle which intersects the stories of approximately 25 named characters until the actual climax#which is another battle but more small scale but also more epic bc it's personal and magical#and I've literally already written the second battle but the buildup to the first fight is hard and so is the actual battle#then there's the WIP that's haunted me for the last 4ish years which is at 160K of an expected 200-220K and is entirely missing the 3rd act#like I have some stuff written and I did plan a structure for a bunch of the main plot stuff bc the book takes place over a strict timeline#but like the actual climax is mostly missing like I have the ending written. the ending is fully done.#I've had it written and planned for a WHILE bc it's supposed to lead into a future story and it has to happen this way#but idk how to get there just yet with a cast of almost 50 named characters to keep track of and 6 'main' plots although it's really 3#like it's a lot to balance bc I prefer writing with larger casts and just getting things done is so hard#bc I physically can't do 'write later' to stuff bc those are some of the most important interactions to me and idk how characters act if—#I don't have those written precisely. it's sort of a story about the effects of the mundane. I literally can't 'write details later' this.#and in the middle of this nightmare — a 4 month writing drought — my brain in like 'here's a bunch of shit about a third story'#god sometimes I simply hate my brain#anyway yeah lol#truly just writer things#owad#anyway guess this is me sort of pivoting back to vomiting about writing on this blog#writbelr#writblr#james rambles#James yells in the tags
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schnaf · 4 months
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Ngl, I think one of my struggles with fic writing in general, is I don't really have anyone I trust enough that can give me feedback before I post said fics. I don't feel comfy at all asking someone I don't know super well to give my writing a look over, and rn my few close pals either can't or don't wanna give em a read. so yeah, I try my best to go over my own work and fiddle with it and re-adjust things as best I can, but I'm fully aware my own thought processes don't always "translate" well, or make total sense I guess? But I'm trying. ^^;
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ok ok so the thing with destiny 2 is how inaccessible it is to new/returning players. we all know this. im perfectly fine with paying 10, even 15 euros every three months for a game that i enjoy. ffxiv is one of my favorite games right now. im used to paying far more. i dont mind messy storytelling. i think it can be fun.
my problem is entirely that because i stopped paying attention somewhere between beyond light and witch queen, there is no longer any way for me to catch up in the game itself. i got burnt out on destiny. i stepped away for almost the entirety of the witch queen - lightfall period. and now i can no longer get back into it. and thats not because im no longer interested in it. i still adore the lore and characters in destiny. but i dont want to have to watch videos on youtube to get a vague understanding of the plot?
and i get it. okay. the game is bloated. the last time i looked the destiny 2 file size (including all dlc) was around 100gb. but fuck if it isnt frustrating that i cant get back into a game i loved so much 2-3 years ago
#if i leave xiv for a month i come back and have missed nothing but seasonal events#if you leave destiny 2 at the wrong moment (ie a month prior to the release of a new expansion) you miss major plot beats#i wasnt burnt out on the story. i wasnt burnt out on the characters. i was simply burnt out on the game itself#and that happens! i had a 2 year long hyperfixation on it! i needed a break!#sorry i uh. i uploaded the last of the finished chapters of tsbesg#because i know that with me not really having played the game in well over a year. i cant write it anymore#not with the concrete main game plot-related arcs#there is a lot of subplot stuff i wanted to do with patch#mostly just their relationships with guardians#crow's relationship with the scorn is still bad#like YES chapter 116 is a decent open but positive ending#but.#the entire fic STARTED with this mental image of the scorn running dsc. (bc it started when dsc dropped)#filler episode-flavored shenanigans#the darkness plot that i expanded on in the two-shot fic i uploaded#and i also really do want patch & pirrha to move past all the death to actually go back to their playful idiot4idiot banter#sniping rematch where patch gets their vengeance???? them being the absolute worst to everyone else just in general#reunited and about to make it everyones problem or whatever#finally got them to the point where their relationship starts to become like. common knowledge#so i could finally get to the main plot but with scorn plans that i had when i started the fic back in. 2020?#but yeah im. no longer caught up on the story#ramblings#aside from au/disconnected from the main plot oneshots#i dont think i CAN continue that fic. without it sucking ass#i miss them bro
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ambrosiagourmet · 8 months
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I love Izutsumi. She's got a great design, she's a fun addition to the main party, she adds some new tension, and she's honestly one of the reasons I read dungeon meshi in the first place. I mean, "the most cat to ever girl" is an extremely appealing hook to anyone who loves cats and girls (me, I love cats and girls).
However, while I have always liked Izutsumi, I finished the story kind of feeling like I didn't really get her. I felt like I had a decent grasp on her character an character arc (she's a traumatized teen given space to feel safe and open up, and because of that she realizes that she can't grow without letting go of the coping mechanisms she once needed). But I didn't feel like I really understood her role in the story as a whole.
She follows the group of her own accord, after a coincidental meeting and a misunderstanding of what they can do for her. She's never super invested in saving Falin, at least not compared to the rest of the group. Though they do help her escape Maizuru's shackles, and are clearly good for her in general, she doesn't really have a healing Moment with the group the way that Senshi does with the hippogriff soup.
And yet, she gets an entire chapter, the third-to-last chapter, dedicated to exploring her growth and future. She's the one who frames much of the falling action, who lets us check in with everyone. She's the one who helps talk Laios into accepting his role as king. She may join the story part way through, but she is there for most of it. So Izutsumi! What's your deal!?
Well, I think I've come up with an answer, at least for myself, that I really like. Two of them, even! Though they both really work together to form the overall point - Izutsumi is the character that most helps the story face towards the future. Here's why I think that.
So the first of these "ah-ha" moments was when I realized that Izutsumi really is the best supporting evidence for Laios' point about the good things that wouldn't have happened if Falin hadn't died.
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If Falin hadn't been eaten by the dragon, Izutsumi probably would still be a slave. It was because of Shuro and Laios' parties both being in the dungeon to rescue Falin, as well as Marcille's use of ancient magic in the resurrection, that she got the chance to escape. None of that would have been the case if Falin hadn't died. Shuro wouldn't have separated from the group and joined up with his retainers, Marcille wouldn't have revealed her knowledge of ancient magic, and Izutsumi never would have even met any of them. They are only part of her life because of Falin's death.
Though this isn't explicitly pointed out by Laios or Izutsumi in the scene, I do think you can very much feel the presence of it. For one, when Marcille reflects on the journey and how much it made her realize she didn't want to lose everyone, her relationship with Izutsumi is prominent:
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It's the main original group at the top and center, but when you read it right to left, it’s Izutsumi and Marcille who might catch your eye first. And it's specifically Marcille and Izutsumi's relationship on display here, not just Izutsumi's presence in the group in general.
Also, after Laios' statement about how none of their adventure would have happened without Falin dying, it is Izutsumi who gets the final word:
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Izutsumi is also the one here who is the most forward-facing. Chilchuck is trying to correct Laios, Senshi is focused on the immediate future, and Izutsumi is talking about her new goal.
And I want to talk about that goal in general as well, because it’s also interesting how it comes up. In that moment, everyone is trying to remind Marcille of her less destructive desires - to eat food, to share it with them, and to meet Chilchuck's family. All of which are previously established, existing desires. When prompted by Chilchuck to join in, however, Izutsumi offers something new:
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That's interesting, isn't it? It's kind of funny, of course, to see her rambling on about a completely new thing, her own personal motive, in the middle of everyone working together to reach out to Marcille. Izutsumi doesn't even know who Yaad is! But at the same time, it’s kind of meaningful. Amidst the focus on desires that everyone already had, she adds a completely new one to the mix. It’s even the final bridge that lets Laios reach Marcille.
It is, in fact, even an idea that comes back later to help out another lord of the dungeon. The idea of finding new goals and feeling new desires... this is exactly how Kabru reaches out to Mithrun, after the Winged Lion is gone
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So yeah, Izutsumi's presence here, both in what she's actively choosing to say as well as what she represents of the consequences of Falin's death, supports the story's ideas of moving forward. Of accepting the past, and finding new reasons to live.
Which is all really good, and that alone works pretty well as an answer to what Izutsumi's role in the story is.
But oh, oh. There's more. Something I realized after having thought of all this, because I still couldn't let go of the feeling that there was still something I was missing.
And as I reviewed the things I loved about Izutsumi - her sometimes unhealthy ways of coping with trauma, her struggles with isolation, her skill with fighting, her selfishness contrasted with the ways she grows to care for and protect the group, her perpetually guarded nature, born from the seeming impossibility of ever fitting in or finding a safe place to just be herself - I realized something.
Izutsumi...
is a foil to Falin.
Where Falin copes with isolation and trauma by being eternally caring and struggling to say no to people, Izutsumi copes by constantly saying no to everything she can. Falin is often considered selfless, but does have selfish desires that she can’t easily express until a moment of crisis. Izutsumi is delightfully selfish, but chooses to stick by her friends when they need her. They are both transformed, against their will, into partly monstrous hybrids, and they both will have to live with that - there is no undoing what has been done to them.
Falin anchors the group in the past. Izutsumi pulls them towards the future. Neither would find freedom without the other - it is Falin's death that leads to Izutsumi joining the party, and likewise, it is Izutsumi who inspires the realization of how they can save Falin.
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And Falin is her future, as much as Izutsumi is Falin's. Both learn to be a little more like each other, even though they never meet. Falin gets a little more selfish. Izutsumi gets a little more willing to bend.
In this context, I feel like I have finally started to understand just how important Izutsumi is to the story. She is a proof that they cannot just go back, and she is a clawed, happy-to-scratch-anyone-who-pisses-her-off reminder, at that. In any conversation about what the group wishes would have happened with Falin, she cannot be ignored or brushed aside.
She is a reminder that, even in the midst of a tragedy so big it feels like a shadow you will never escape, you have yet to met all the people you will love. Hell, some of those people might even be catgirls. We should all be so lucky.
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rui-drawsbox · 8 months
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remembering the most memorable mc's (with canon appearences) from the otomes i played
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all of them are phone games btw. and looong rambling about the games after the cut!
Mystic messenger has been in my radar since i was in elementary school but i played it for the first time after the spanish traslation came out (2017 i think?) Seven shaped my type in such a specific way that im not really sure why loved him so much (it was the whole "he loves you in every route" stuff). I like a lot the default mc, most of the fandom did and that was enough to won me over
Rosa is top tier protagonist tbh, Tears of Themis has really good story and characters (as far i played, not a lot but i enjoyed it) The reason i'm not that much of a fan is bc the game is expensive asf and not very free to play friendly. You're either lucky or have a big wallet with the gacha
i miss my wife man(Marius)
Ephemeral has to be one of the best free to play otomes i've played tbh (if my memories aren't tricking me, it's been years) Good artwork, good storyline, good characters and as far i remember you can unlock one chapter of the character route per day (mabye two days, idk) and the mc's background has an important role in every route (she's a zombie! she's pretty now but eventually will fall apart, aaaaand her story gets expanded in one of the routes!) ((shes also adorable)) There's also a sequel, if you wanted more of the boys! never finished it but i'd recommend it
Honorable mentions! Huellitas Mágicas is a great game! has a really good cast with well fleshed arcs for all the characters, even the scondary ones! The game shines more for the development of *all* the characters rather than just the protagonist/ml. The main theme is overcoming insecurities! Each love interest has a different way of helping our (very insecure) protagonist and helping different characters with their own struggles :DD
10/10 i recommend this game if you want something cute and can be finished in a few hours, if i remember right. It also has a sequel! with like- 12 new love interests, also never finished it bc i didnt found a guide that worked for me but ñek
A3! is my canon event as a gacha player. Discovered the english/global server, tried it and got bored, left it for a few months, tried it again and fell in love, noticed the game was going to shut down bc low sales -HAHA :(-. This is not a otome btw, this is here bc Izumi has to be one of my favorite protagonists in gacha games ever
last but not least! Obey me! Shall we date? oh dear, what have they done to you :(. The original had intense powercreep to force you to pull cards -multiple times bc that makes them stronger- and even now, the company showed a lot of favoritism to some characters, leaving others to dust bc they don't make the same money. Not to say, they released a new game with the same cast and new main story (ignoring all what happend before). And let me say: THEY LITERALLY WANTED TO KILL THE ORIGINAL GAME.
Nightbringer might be a decent game but i don't trust the devs anymore, i still remember what happend with Asmo's birthday right after the release, and honestly i don't want to sit there watching how they disrespect my favorite characters again and again and again. Loved the characters hated the devs. 5/10 you can play it if you want but i don't recommend spending money on it, it's not worth it, just search #obey me here in tumblr and enjoy the amazing fanworks that i can assure you have a lot more love than the game itself
i miss my wife man (mammon and levi)
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Chemical Override (bonus chapter 4) - Above The Gods Eye
Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader
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a/n: I had envisioned bonus chapters as not too integral to the main plot (as in, you will be able to follow the story without reading them), but this one... this one might just count.
series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist
A series of moments from the vault, occurring in part eight of the story, now yours to enjoy. 🤍
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The one with the second sons…
The photoshoot has wrapped, and the cast of House of the Dragon has drifted into all corners of the set, exchanging laughs in between much-needed sips of caffeine. The next item on Entertainment Weekly’s agenda is the video segment recordings, pairing cast members for various games and interviews.
Fabien and Freddie finished their narrative recap of season 2, with more jokes than actual informative recaps. Harry and Bethany played a game where they guessed whether the line is from House of the Dragon or Game of Thrones. Tom and Emma played a ‘which sibling' game, leaning into the dynamic between Aegon and Rhaenyra that clearly should have been explored in previous seasons.
As it happens, Matt and Ewan are paired up for an Aemond or Daemon game, meant to give the audiences a glimpse of what to look forward to. Their notorious rivalry, culminating in a battle that will be their last. 
The two film their segment in Studio E, the set consisting of the great cellar of the Red Keep where Balerion’s massive skull looms on a pedestal. The dozens of candles surrounding it have been lit, casting dramatic shadows as they take their seats, facing each other in what could easily be mistaken for the start of a duel.
“My name is Ewan Mitchell and I play Aemond Targaryen,” Ewan starts.
“And I’m Matt and I play the Daemon Targaryen,” Matt follows. “And we’re about to play Second Sons: Aemond vs Daemon.”
“Let’s go,” Ewan rolls his shoulders, his sense of competitiveness all fired up, intensified by the fact that the man in front of him potentially could become his rival off-screen. That is, when it concerns the battle for your affections. 
He can still hear it ringing in his ears, the sound of your laughter in the background, distracting him during the photoshoot. That laugh, so addictive, so yours, was a melody he could listen to forever - except when it’s Matt Smith who’s the culprit. 
The lads take their cue to read the first prompt displayed on a screen above the camera. The game begins. 
“Who is the better swordsman?” Matt reads aloud with a smirk. “Well, that’s obviously Daemon, mate. He’s older - ”
“Age doesn’t always mean better,” Ewan counters smoothly.
“Ah, but he’s battle-tested. He fought in the Stepstones, and was the Commander of the City Watch, for heaven’s sake. What’s Aemond got?”
“Aemond spent years and years training with Criston Cole in the Red Keep yard, honing his skill,” Ewan argues. “He clearly has the dedication. He’s disciplined.”
“Training,” Matt scoffs, turning to the camera as if sharing an inside joke. “Put Aemond out there in a real battle, then we’ll talk.” 
“Alright, alright,” Ewan concedes, biting his cheek to keep from saying more. “Next one. Who’s the better dancer at the royal ball?”
Matt can’t help but chuckle, “Neither of us are inclined to - ”
“Yeah, I don’t know.”
“But if we had to pick, then I'd say Daemon. We saw him dancing in the first season, didn’t we?”
“I don’t think Aemond would be much of a dancer,” Ewan says, before adding with a smirk to the camera, “unless it’s with Vhagar.”
“Oh, yeah?” Matt asks him. “Short of dancing partners, is he? Can’t say I’ve got that problem. I’ve got Rhaenyra, I’ve got my daughters, and of course, the lovely Alyna.” His voice drops at the mention of your character, and he notices a telling flicker in Ewan’s expression. The younger boy latches on to it, hook, line and sinker. 
Ewan’s brows scrunch, not missing the bait. “Oh, she wouldn’t dance with you,” flies out of his mouth before he can stop himself.
“Alyna wouldn’t?” Matt tilts his head, feigning hurt. 
“She’s… she’s too busy fighting the war,” Ewan quickly musters. “She’s got better things to do.”
“Mate, I think we all are. But that wasn’t the question.”
“I just don’t think she - ”
“She’ll dance with Daemon,” Matt says confidently. “Once she realises how good he is, then it’s game over.”
“I disagree,” Ewan easily says to the camera, willing the viewers to side with him.
“Next,” Matt continues, “Who’s more likely to get into a fight at the tavern? Is this… so far, it's been all Daemon! This one too.”
Ewan nods, but adds slyly, “Aemond’s not one to waste his time at the tavern, no.” His answer is an apparent concession to Daemon, until he adds, “which is why Alyna would prefer to spend her time with him. He’s calmer… more reliable… no unnecessary tavern brawls or anything…”
“Calmer, mate?” Matt rolls his eyes, chuckling to himself. “Come off it, yeah?”
“Compared to Daemon, he clearly is.”
“He killed Luke and Rhaenys!”
“That was an accident,” Ewan shrugs. “He feels bad for it.”
“Alyna better steer clear,” Matt points to the camera, making his point. 
Ewan shakes his head in protest, “I don’t agree.”
“So, for this one, again, it’s Daemon,” Matt finishes. 
Ewan lets it go, the Alyna comment lingering in the back of his mind. It didn’t seem like an Alyna reference; it felt like a message to you. His stomach twists, suspicious of the other game Matt seems to be playing at. Turning to the prompter, Ewan reads, “Who’s got… the better hair care routine? Oh wow.”
“Daemon’s been at some dingy castle,” Matt says, “clearly no showers there. Forget it.”
“Aemond’s got this locked down,” Ewan grins.
“Has he? Alright then,” Matt responds, amused. “He does have that pin-straight hair, doesn’t he? It’s almost like… well it’s almost like it’s a bloody wig!” He laughs, and some of the onlookers behind the camera mirror the sentiment. 
“I did read somewhere about Aemond having a 20-step hair care routine… ”
“20 steps? Blimey, mate. I’m surprised he even makes it out the door,” Matt says. “Would you say he’s got better hair than the women on the show? Than Alicent or Alyna maybe?”
“Oh,” Ewan leans back, mulling it over. How to one-up Matt without making it seem too obvious? He’s about to respond, when he hears some soft giggling in the corner. It appears that you’ve made your way into Studio E with Phia and Liv. The sound came from Phia, who gives him a thumbs up when she notices his diverted attention. 
Matt notices your presence too, and when the director waves a hand for them to carry on, he answers for Ewan, “We could say Aemond has the better hair. Alyna’s way too busy training with Daemon anyway. We do tend to get into that rough and tumble during our sword fights.”
“Mmm,” Ewan narrows his eyes. He then ignores or conveniently forgets the fact that it’s Matt's turn to read the next question. “Who’s more likely to fight a dragon for their lover?” 
The two men lock eyes, the air between them charged, more so due to your appearance. If a rivalry is what the viewers expect, then that is what they’ll get. 
Matt puts a hand up. “I think Daemon’s the one with the guts to fight a bloody dragon. Daemon will stand against anything and anyone. Without a doubt.”
“It’s different with him, though, isn’t it?” Ewan responds. “Daemon would be doing it for the glory. He’d be doing it for himself. Whereas Aemond… he’d be doing it out of pure devotion.”
“Are you talking about the same devotion he had for his brother? I’d say he’s more likely to burn his lover to a crisp, than fight a dragon for her.”
“There is a completely different dynamic with his brother,” Ewan explains. “I think that when Aemond falls in love, there is nothing at all that he wouldn’t do for them. In season 2, we already kind of saw him leaning into this reputation of being the most wanted man in the realm. So… he’d fight anything for his lover, that’s for sure. He’d burn the seven kingdoms down if necessary.” He turns to look at the camera, but he catches your eye instead. You’re shaking your head slightly at his answer, but the small smile that graces your lips tells him that you enjoyed it. 
He simpers at your apparent show of approval, but Matt cuts the shared moment short. 
“I think Aemond’s a young buck,” Matt says, “who’s desperate to make his mark. He wouldn’t know the first thing about devotion. But Daemon… that’s been his internal struggle this whole time. He’s proven that he stands behind his brother and Rhaenyra, no matter how much he tries to act to the contrary. But yeah, we’re going a bit off track here. What was the question? Who’d fight a dragon… ”
“For their lover,” Ewan finishes. “I would still say Aemond. Daemon is too unpredictable.”
“Of course you’d say that,” Matt wags his eyebrows at him. “But I’m standing by my answer. We clearly saw Daemon basically pledge himself to Rhaenyra in the last episode. What more proof do you need?”
“Aemond’s got something up his sleeve,” Ewan says. “He just wants to be loved, that’s it, and when he finds that, there’ll be no question of what he’s capable of doing for Al - ” He catches himself at the last second, before he fully lets slip your character’s name. “I mean - ”
Matt’s eyes light up, sensing an opportunity. “For Alys, you mean?” To the camera, he adds, “spoiler alert, everyone.”
“Right,” Ewan lets out a breath, “Of course.”
“Can’t be anyone else,” Matt challenges him. 
“I don’t know for now,” Ewan tries to keep up. 
“You currently have a bit of a lack in the lover department,” Matt smirks. 
Ewan narrows his eyes at the apparent insinuation. He better be referring to the show. “Fine, then, we can give this one to Daemon. But as to their real-life counterparts,” he locks eyes with you again, “who’s to say? I bet I have this in the bag.”
Matt follows his line of sight, pleased when your attention switches to him. “I think that’s yet to be decided.”
“Alright, we’ve got some more,” Ewan quickly says, in an attempt to divert Matt’s gaze from you. 
Matt reads, “Who’s more likely to maintain a good social media presence? Oh, bloody hell, we’re crossing over into uncharted territory with this one.”
“That’s interesting.”
“I’ve never touched it myself,” Matt shrugs. “I’m not on anything, only Facebook for a moment ages ago, but I did not have any desire in going back. Oh wait, we’re meant to answer for our characters. Apologies.”
“Hmm,” Ewan nods. “I don’t know if Aemond would be on social media, no.”
“Yeah, this is a weird question,” Matt says. “Maybe Daemon then? But only to post pictures of Caraxes or something. What do you think?”
“Yeah, Daemon can take this one,” Ewan replies. “Personally, I’m not on social media too much - ”
“But didn’t you jump into the fray recently? With… which one was it?”
“Instagram? Yeah, yeah, that was something.” His mind flashes back to the pictures he had up, both attesting to his love for you. But you had asked him to take the latest one down, which led him to deactivate the account altogether. Temporarily. If the fans assumed that the action was meant to symbolise an end of his involvement with you, then now would be the perfect opportunity to prove them wrong. “I did have to take a step back, because it was kind of overwhelming. I just needed to take some proper time off.”
“Oh really? I wouldn’t know,” Matt says. “Did you actually share some photos there?”
Ewan smiles, pleased at being able to answer this question. “Yeah, I shared a few of my most treasured ones. They were some great pictures, but I’ve got loads more of the same in my phone, and I - ” He throws a warning glance to the camera “ - I think I’ll be keeping those to myself for now.”
Matt, oblivious as to what he’s hinting at, reads the next one. “Who’s the better brother?”
“Aemond for sure.”
“Clearly Daemon.”
And so the banter continues for a couple more prompts, sharp yet flowing naturally, foreshadowing the frenzied fan reactions when the segment is shared online for all to see. 
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The one where Ewan needs his cowgirl…
Ewan paces around his dressing room, settling into his outfit, awaiting his cue from set. The outfit is a bold mix of traditional Western elements and high fashion: a tailored deep brown leather jacket with intricate embroidery, a crisp white shirt with ruffled cuffs, fitted trousers, and a wide-brimmed cowboy hat. His boots click against the wooden floor as he moves. He’s nervous but determined to impress you, even though it’s always been you with a knack for making his heart race.
After a while, he makes his way out of the dressing room and into the bustling set. The set is decked out to the theme. The director and crew are scattered all around, but Ewan focuses solely on finding you. 
When he finally does, his world seems to slow down. You are standing near a vintage saddle, dressed in your own Western-inspired attire. Your smile is radiant as you speak to your assistant, and the way your eyes light up when you see him makes his heart skip a beat. No, it never gets old, he realises, you will always have a maddening effect on him.
He takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders, and saunters over with as much swagger as he could muster. “Howdy, darling,” he greets in his best cowboy lilt.
You look him up and down with a smile. “Why, hello, good sir,” you say, even doing a playful curtsy. 
“Ready to give them a show?” he asks, gesturing to the expanse of the set. Ready to be my cowgirl, darling? He wants to ask instead. 
You hum a response. “As I’ll ever be. I’d say you’re a natural at this whole cowboy thing.”
“Oh, darling,” he smirks, “you’d be surprised by what I can do with my lasso.”
“Down, Mitchell.”
“Whatever you want, my cowgirl.”
The atmosphere is electric throughout the shoot, with Ewan constantly leaning down to whisper suggestive lines in your ear. 
He finds himself getting lost in the intensity of the shoot, but his focus remains on you. It isn’t as if you are making it easy on him, with your lingering touches and flirtatious remarks. 
The camera's shutter clicks away, and Ewan and you pose for one perfect shot after another. The set is alive with activity, but he only sees you, the lighting casting a warm glow on your rouge-stained cheeks. Forgetting where he is for a moment, his hand reaches up to caress your face, and he leans in slightly. 
You pose accordingly, likely thinking that he’s just giving the shoot what it demands. 
“What was that you were saying about a lasso?” you smirk, in an attempt to diffuse the tension, but it only spurs him on. 
“Care for a demonstration?” he shoots back.
“Why not?” you reply easily, adjusting your stance. 
“We may need a more intimate setting for that, darling.”
“More intimate than this?” you laugh breathlessly, the warmth of it fanning his face. He’s close enough that the tip of his nose brushes against yours. 
He smiles, deaf to the low warning that escapes your lips when he leans in for a kiss on instinct. 
Just as his lips are about to graze yours, the director’s voice cuts through the charged silence.
“Cut! Break, everyone!”
The spell is broken instantly. Ewan pulls back, his expression shifting from one of intense concentration to surprise and a hint of frustration. 
You stand facing each other, flustered and left wanting. Ewan wants nothing more than to just reach for you and pull you in a closet, and show just how well he can use that bloody lasso. If you want him to. But he forces himself to croak, “To be continued, darling?”
You mirror his heated gaze, nodding once, before turning on your heel and heading to the break room. 
When the set is mostly emptied, Ewan picks up the hefty lasso that’s been put aside. With a determined look on his face, he swings it expertly through the air, causing a resounding thwack. The movement is deliberate, a release of his frustrations about you. About Matt. About everything. 
But it doesn’t quite bring him the relief he needs, because only you can offer that. 
It’s only ever been you. 
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The one with the first date…
You glance at your phone to check the time, heart fluttering with anticipation. Matt had promised to pick you up at 2, and it is only a minute past, but you’re already standing nervously in your living room. Not a moment too soon, your buzzer alerts you of his arrival, and you press the button to allow him upstairs. 
You sneak one more glance at the mirror, smoothing a hand over your t-shirt and jeans. You opted for a casual look, dressed up with some jewelry and heeled boots. 
Finally, there’s a knock at the door and you grab your purse as you walk up to meet your awaited visitor. 
There he is, standing in the doorway, as impossibly charming as ever. Matt’s dressed in a perfectly fitted black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms, paired with staple dark jeans. His tousled hair looks like he ran a hand through it on his way over, and his signature mischievous grin plays at the corners of his mouth as he takes you in.
“Hello there,” he greets cheerfully.
“Hey, Smithy,” you blush under his gaze. 
“You look absolutely incredible,” he says, his gaze sweeping appreciatively over you, “As can be expected. You are my Alyna, after all.”
“Thanks,” you manage to say, your voice soft, almost breathless. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
“Glad to hear it. I was worried I’d underdressed,” he teases, though the way he carries himself shows that he knows exactly how good he looks. He steps a little closer, his hand lightly grazing your arm as he does. 
“You ready to go?” he asks, his voice just a shade deeper, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that still catches you off guard, no matter how exposed you have been to his charms.
“Yeah,” you nod, suddenly aware of how close you’re standing, the air between you thick with tension. “Let’s do this.”
The late afternoon air is crisp as you walk with Matt down a quiet street near Hyde Park. The anticipation from earlier has settled into something more relaxed, yet there’s still an undercurrent of excitement, an unspoken awareness of the new territory you’re both navigating.
Matt leads you to a small café tucked away from the bustle of the city. It’s quaint, with ivy creeping up the walls and soft lights glowing through the windows. As you step inside, the rich aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastries envelops you, and you can’t help but smile. The interior is just as charming as the exterior, and a few patrons sit scattered throughout, each absorbed in their own worlds. Too absorbed to notice two somewhat renowned actors entering the premises.
“Pick a spot,” Matt says, his hand gently brushing the small of your back. The touch is fleeting, but it’s enough to send a warm tingle up your spine.
You choose the table with a view of the park just beyond the glass. Ever the gentleman, Matt pulls out a chair for you before settling into the one across from you.
“Hope you like this place,” he says, his tone easy and genuine. “It’s one of my favourites. Feels like a bit of an escape from everything, you know?”
“It’s perfect,” you reply, taking in the cozy atmosphere. “I can see why you come here.”
A waitress comes over to take your order, and Matt gives you his recommendations which you happily go along with. The familiar way with which she addresses him as Mr. Smith confirms his frequent visits. Once she leaves, you lean back in your chair, letting yourself relax into the moment, though you are aware of his eyes watching you the entire time. 
“So, how are you finding the city? It’s different from set life, that’s for sure.” Matt asks, his eyes studying you with a mix of curiosity and something deeper. Something you can’t pinpoint just yet, though it’s not unfamiliar. You’ve seen that look before. From Ewan. The sudden thought of him drives a wedge in your focus, and you have to shake it off before you answer.
“It’s been great,” you say, smiling. “It’s nice to be able to explore it more this time around, since I've got some downtime. And, of course, the company’s been pretty good too.” You add the last part with a playful tone, which makes him chuckle.
“Oh, I’m sure it has,” he replies, a teasing glint in his eye. “But don’t let Ewan monopolise all your time. I’m around if you ever need a break from him.”
The mention of Ewan brings a subtle shift in the conversation. It’s light, but there’s a hint of something more - an awareness of the connection you share with Ewan that both complicates what you have, or what you could have, with Matt. 
“You’re a good friend, Matt,” you say, your tone still light but more sincere. “I appreciate that.”
He nods, a small smile playing on his lips, though there’s a flicker of something in his eyes. “Friend, sure,” he says, his voice low and smooth. “But, just so you know… I’m here, if you ever want more than that.”
It’s a simple statement, but the weight of it hangs in the air between you. He’s not pressing, not trying to make you uncomfortable, but it’s clear that he’s laying his cards on the table. Matt’s always had a way of being direct without being pushy, and this moment is no different.
You meet his gaze, feeling the sincerity behind his words. There’s a part of you that’s tempted, drawn in by the way he makes you laugh and feel seen. But there’s something - someone - holding you back. 
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you reply, smiling softly. 
Matt nods again, his smile resurfaces, as sure as the sun rising. “That’s all I ask.”
The waitress returns with your coffee and pastries, breaking the tension with the clink of cups and the sweet scent of buttery croissants. 
After a moment, Matt takes a sip from his own cup and raises an eyebrow. “You know, I heard that drinking coffee in a café like this can increase your charm significantly. I think it’s working, do you?”
You play along, pretending to consider this. “Hmm, I don’t think you need help in that department. But… I’ll still be careful. Just in case you charm me into agreeing to a second date.”
Matt leans closer with a grin. “Second date? Love, if I’m being honest, I’m already planning our third date.”
The conversation shifts back to lighter topics - your favourite places in the city, funny stories from the set, and his many revealing anecdotes about Fabien. Like the one where he got properly sloshed after a night out at the pub, so much so that he stuck some croissants in his washing machine thinking it was the oven. 
“To his defense,” Matt exclaims as you giggle uncontrollably, “the two appliances are similarly shaped!”
As the date progresses, you feel undeniably warm and comfortable in Matt’s presence, but you also can’t ignore the lingering thoughts of Ewan. Your phone had buzzed at some point, and when you snuck a glance at the screen, it lit up to reveal three missed calls from Ewan One-Eye. He knows you’re on a date, so he must be interrupting on purpose. Thankfully, Matt’s enthusiastic regaling keeps you from lingering on Ewan - from worrying about him, missing him… from wishing that he could freely allow himself to take you on a date just like this. 
As you and Matt stroll back to your apartment, the city lights cast a warm glow on the pavement, creating a magical backdrop for the end of your evening. His arm around your shoulders brings you a sense of ease, and you no longer feel that nervous flush as earlier. 
He walks with you inside your building, and when you reach the door to your apartment, Matt pauses by the entrance, turning to face you with a gentle smile. “Well, this has been quite the evening,” he says. “I’m really glad we got to do this.”
You return his smile. “Me too. It’s been a lovely night.”
There’s a moment of hesitation, a shared look that speaks volumes without words. 
“Well, I - ” you swallow, your nerves returning, “I better head inside.”
As you reach for your keys, Matt’s hand gently wraps around yours, causing a jolt of electricity to travel up your arm. “Before you do,” he says, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “there’s something I’ve been wanting to do all night.”
You look up at him. Screw your newfound sense of ease. Your heartbeat now pounds in your ears like an erratic drum. “Oh? And what’s that?” But something tells you that you know just what he means. 
Without breaking eye contact, Matt leans in slowly, his face drifting closer.
“This,” he mumbles the word as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. And then his lips touch yours.
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Some notes in the margins...
This poll caused quite the stir amongst yous, I see. Consider me amused. Since part 9 isn't out yet, and my mind isn't set either - if you've got something to let off your chest, some supporting arguments, you've got one more chance to let me know below (or let each other know) 😉 I always read all your opinions, and they are properly taken into account. What did you think of Matty after this?
When Ewan called her at the end of part eight, do you think she had company? Anyway, something sweet is coming in part nine with Ewan and his darling!
To those who are seriously worried about the outcome, note that is and always has been a Ewan x reader fic. I am a Ewan girl just like yous. Hold fast and have fun on the wild ride, darlings 💙
420 notes · View notes
simpee9000 · 2 months
Text
Not Just Friends - 5 -
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M.List : Prologue : Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Not edited : 10k words !!!
Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.
Katsuki and his closest friend decided to make a tradition of camping during the summer. The group mainly just inviting themselves in on his hiking trips and making it a bigger deal. You remember at first that he looked at you for help, only finding that you were already discussing with Mina about sharing a tent. You and the girls all shared a tent that year, in celebration of graduation.
But now, only a year later, the tradition stuck. It was beginning of August and the group of you were all getting packed. Preparing to meet at the camping site at separate times due to schedule errors. It was a small campground in all, you only knew of it if a local told you, so you had no idea how Katsuki got on the good side of a local, but he did. It was barely in service, just enough for phone calls, but Katsuki had a strict no phone rule.
Despite him being a grump about everything, the campground is beautiful, a lake in the middle of it all but surrounded by many different hiking routes. You were excited to spend this camping trip next him rather than the girls, curious about all the ins-and-outs of this campground.
You often tagged along next to him for his hikes, it was the main way you guys spent your off days. He always needed something to do, and you wanted to be near him, so you followed.
It created countless stories between you two, either inside jokes about one falling over a tree or just the deep conversations you shared as you hiked the trail.
After the hour drive out of the city, you were met with the lush campgrounds. It was just as breathtaking as last year. Just being in view of it, lifted a weight off your shoulders. It felt like you could breathe better overall.
The two of you were the first ones there. Arriving just before sunset. The rest of the group said they'd be here soon. You attempted to convince Katsuki to wait so you could share a ride with Kirishima and Mina, but he was too impatient.
Once your foot was out of the car, Katsuki started handing you things to set up. Giving you some of the tents he brought and to place them near the already made fire pit. He brought most of the camping supplies for the group, everyone else would just have to bring the things that they wanted.
You decided to wait to put up the tents until others got here, unsure of the pairing. So you and Katsuki got to work on putting up the fold up tables and some chairs out. Grabbing the ice chest filled of your food and setting it near the camp fire, which Katsuki quickly had going. Thankfully the campsite sold firewood, so you had no worries of running out.
The rumble of Kirishima's super duty truck made you turn you're head. Soon enough Mina barreled out of the truck and came running to you.
"Hi," she squeeze you into a hug, "Haven't seen you since the party!" You squeezed her back, it has been a while since you've seen her, the party was almost a month ago.
"Of course you guys show up after we finish setting everything up," Katsuki grumbled, dragging his feet as he walked to Kirishima's truck to help grab ice chests.
Kirishima gave a cheeky smile, rubbing the back of his neck, "Sorry man, I'm free to help now though."
"Whatever," Katsuki scoffed.
Kirishima gave you a wave, "Anything I can help with?"
You looked around, finally pushing Mina away from the hug, "We haven't set up any tents, so maybe that? I just don't know who's sharing and stuff yet."
Kirishima and Mina shared a quick glance, turning a shy red in their cheeks. "Well," Mina dragged out, "E and I are sharing, Bakugo and you are sharing, so we can start there."
"Wait," you paused them confused, embarrassed about sharing a tent with Katsuki.
"Huh?" Kirishima turned towards the tents laying on the ground, "Denki and Sero can share, I doubt they mind. They can set up another if hey have that big of an issue."
"We only packed three air mattresses," you pointed out.
"They've shared a bed before, it's fine. They're bros," Kirishima shrugged. He wasn't getting the point. You looked to find were Katsuki went and saw him grabbing stuff from Kirishima's truck, not having heard a lick of the conversation.
By the time you look back over to Kirishima, him and Mina were already off to the side of the campsite and setting up their tent. Mina struggling to stand as she laughed, hitting Kirishima with the tent pole constantly.
It was enduring to see them mess around, especially since they were finally getting ahold of their relationship. Both of them have been struggling with a label since the second year.
You looked back at Katsuki, who grabbed all he needed from the truck and was now crouched and working on the fire again. You walked over to stand next to him, bumping his shoulder lightly with your hip to get his attention, "We needa set up our tent."
He scrunched his eye brows, looking over to were the tent were then to were Kirishima was. "They sharing?" he nodded his head in their direction. You hummed, rocking on the ball of your feet, stuffing your hands in your pockets. This felt odd.
" Okay," he stood up, brushing the remains of wood of his hands. You stepped away slightly, giving him room to stand without bumping into you. "Where do ya' want it?"
You looked around the campsite. It was quite big, plenty of space for anything. Trees lined the dirt center that was meant for parking cars and the rest of the camping supplies. Where the trees lined the dirt, there was plenty of open grass plots for a tent. Kirishima and Mina already taking one of the grass plots near the cars. So you walked to the other side, leaving the ones in the middle for the boys to chose.
Katsuki picked up the tent and followed you, dropping the tent bag where you stopped. It was quite the distance from the cars so you would have to move the car briefly so you could blow up the air mattress.
You went to unzip the bag, handing Katsuki the poles to connect together while you pulled out the actual tent to space out. Switching jobs so he could anker it to the ground. You quickly saw why Mina was laughing so hard. The pole you were connecting broke apart in one spot and swung to hit Katsuki in the back of the head.
He wiped his head around, "The fuck?" he barked at you. You hunched over laughing, his face was so mad, it was as if you took a dogs bone. "Asshat," he grumbled, turning to finish the last anker. Before snatching the pole from your hand and threading it through the tent. Ordering you to help connect it on the other side despite you still laughing slightly at him.
The two of you did the other side without much issue, putting the rain cover up as well as threading the pole over the door to keep it steady. He quickly trudged off to bring the car. Mina joining your side as you two watched Katsuki set up the air mattress. "I hate tents," she grumbled.
You looked at her tent, seeing it messily set up, all their stuff being thrown in as well, fully set up. "Why?" you asked.
"Can't really make noise if y'know what I mean," she wiggled her brows, nudging her arm into yours.
"I better not hear that," you made a face of disgust.
"Same to you," Mina laughed, "Though I am curious as t-"
"Don't," you raised your hand to stop her, "I don't even want to know."
Katsuki called you over to the tent, currently fighting with the air mattress.
"What even happened?" you laughed the second you peaked inside the tent, he was currently struggling to get the air pump connected to the air mattress.
"Can't find the hole," he sighed frustrated.
Mina erupted into laughter, "That's what she said!"
You stifled a laugh, moving Katsuki to the side as you pushed the mattress into a better angle. Getting the mattress blown up easily. Katsuki getting out of the tent to place the bedding and your guys stuff in the tent to the side. It was a large tent, plenty of space for you to stand up straight, Katsuki only had to slouch slightly to not hit his head in the middle.
He moved the car and left you to set up the bedding once the mattress was fully inflated it. Knowing it go cold at night you threw a large open sleeping bag over the top of the mattress to sleep on top of, knowing that the air mattress would be insanely cold otherwise. Just throwing your pillows at the end of the bed and then half-assly throwing heavy blankets on top before shuffling out of the tent, hearing Sero and Denki pull up, music blasting.
Katsuki was instantly barking orders at them.
"Chill man, we brought the booze," Denki laughed, opening the truck and pulling out a cooler, Sero doing the same.
"How fucking much are you planning to drink?" Katsuki went wide eyed at the two full coolers of booze.
"We'll probably have to buy more," Sero shrugged.
"Huh? How?" Katsuki looked dumb founded.
"I mean," Sero pointed and count the group, "there six of us, five of us wanting to get drunk nightly this weekend. We all need to drink a lot to get drunk as well."
Katsuki whiped his head to you, "You drinkin'?"
You shrugged, "I mean yeah- wait Sero?"
"Yeah?" he looked up from where he was fishing a beer out of the cooler.
"Did you pack my wine?" you stepped closer to him.
"In the car," he nodded towards the car. You quickly skipping over and grabbing a bottle to drink for the night. Katsuki was busy yelling at everyone to watch how much they drunk, they still had work monday.
Mina groaned at him, lulling her head over to you, "Can you get the stick out of his ass? He's acting like he hasn't been laid in years."
Your face flushed but you laughed to cover it, "I think it's too far up there for me to help."
"Fuck off," he barked at the two of you, causing you to laugh harder.
The group was standing around the fire, Katsuki making sure it stayed steady. Once you got the wine bottle open you joined them, taking the seat next to Katsuki, stretching your legs onto his arm rest of the chair, knowing he wouldn't mind.
"Y'know, sometimes I forget you two are dating," Denki point at finger between you and Katsuki, that same hand also bringing a beer up to his mouth to take a swig. "I only remember when you do shit like that," he gestured to your legs.
"What do you mean?" you tilted your head.
"Well he'd kill anyone else for that," Denki shrugged.
"Ah yes, you bagged quite a man, one that'd kill some one from breathing wrong," Mina laughed at you.
You flushed, embarrassed that even the ones closest to you barely saw the relationship. You looked over to see how Katsuki took the joke, seeing him staring intently at the fire. Poking at it with a fire stick.
"What's our plan for tomorrow?" you looked around the group, taking a sip of wine straight from the bottle. Wanting to skip past any talk about your relationship.
"I'm going for a hike," Katsuki said, setting down the fire stick and leaning into his chair, arms cross.
"Okay," you dragged out, seeing if anyone would add their plans. When no one added you continued, "So Kats and I are going for a hike in the morning, then we'll be back and we can all go to the lake?" you suggested.
"Sounds good, I would go with but I need sleep, works been rough," Kirishima sent an apology to Katsuki, only to be shrugged off.
"Have you been taking better care of your support gear?" you nagged at him, annoyed about the amount of times you've fixed it just this month.
"Yes mom," he groaned.
"Oh shut your mouth," you scolded. The group laughed at your bickering with Kirishima.
The group quickly fell into an banter, all thankful they got the weekend off from hero work. Glad they could escape out of the city. It was refreshing. The view of the camp ground and their faces. They looked a least a little more carefree than normal. Tonight was the calm of the camping trip, tomorrow night would be all chatter and drunk games. It was only Friday night and you guys would be staying till Sunday, with work on Monday. It was a short get away but it was all the agencies could agree too. Everyone already ate their meals during the drive here, so all that was to do was set up.
By the time the fire was out, Sero and Denki still hadn't put their tent up. They'd have to do it drunk and in the dark. Katsuki was already well past tired and demanded to get up early, so you couldn't join them. So you had Kirishima promise to watch for them.
With the rest of the group taken care of, you and Katsuki walked off into your tent. Well he walked, you stumbled and grabbed onto his arm, drunk from drinking the whole wine bottle. He unzipped the door of the tent, holding it open for you and closing it behind himself.
"What side y'want?" Katsuki huffed, reaching for his backpack.
You looked at the options for a moment, "The one near the tent wall, I don't wanna be by the door."
"Ight," he was still digging through his bag. You walked over to your side, just about to sit down before he yelled at you, "The fuck y'doing? Change your clothes, I don't want our bed to smell like wine and campfire."
"But you literally smell like a campfire," you pointed out, "And I don't smell like wine."
"I saw you spill it over yourself, and I don't care. Change," he ordered.
"How am I supposed to change with you in here," you grumbled back at him.
"I'll turn around and so will you," he pointed out blandly.
So after grabbing your pjs, you both turned around and changed. You felt the urge to turn and catch a look but you knew that it'd be all you thought of. You laughed slightly to yourself, amused that you've been dating for three years but have yet to change near each other.
"What?"
Your head almost spun to look at him, but you remembered before you did, "Nothin."
"Why'd you laugh?" he asked differently.
You sighed, " Just the fact we are turned away from each other right now," you shrugged your pj shirt over your head, unhooking your bra from underneath it, just in case.
"Want to watch me get naked?" he teased.
A hot wave flashed through you, "Shuddup," you coughed out after a moment. Quickly putting on your sleep shorts. "You done yet?"
"Have been for a minute," he replied. With the okay to turn around, you quickly climbed into bed. Only then did it sink in that you'd be sharing a bed for the first time. Seeing him lift the covers and joined you excited you. It was a first, and it was thrilling, even if it was just sleep.
"Y'know," you moved closer to where he got comfortable, "We've never shared a bed."
"I'm aware," he peered down at you. He had his head rested on the pillow, arms above his head as he laid on his hands.
"It's weird," you whispered, like you were admitting a secret. You moved yourself to lay onto your stomach, propping yourself up with your arms.
"How?" he asked softly, matching your tone. He adjusted himself, getting into a better position to look at you. Even in the dark, you could see his vibrant red eyes peering at you.
"Like," you looked away from him, overwhelm, picking at the blanket that was over your shoulders, "Feels different, we live together but we don't share a bed, but now we are. Feels like a new step without the other foundations in a way."
"What other foundations would we need?"
"Well none I guess, but we didn't choose this one fully," you shrugged.
"I knew we were going to share, did you not?" he nudged your calf with his leg, grabbing your attention.
"Not really, I'm happy we are, just," you paused, "I don't know."
You heard Denki and Sero laughing from their tent, clearly in a struggle to set it up.
"I get it," Katsuki said after a moment, "Feels like we are doing things in a weird order."
"Yeah," you yawned.
"Go to bed," he order softly.
"Goodnight," you muttered, plopping your head onto your pillow.
"Night."
---
Katsuki woke you up just before sunrise, slightly shaking your arm till you woke up. He already has his hiking bag made, filled with stuff for the both of you. Shoving you a granola bar and a protein shake before he left you to change.
After slipping into some pants, aware of the brisk mornings. Katsuki having warned you while you packed. With your legs warm, you threw on a tank-top with a hoodie over it. Tying your shoes before fighting your way out of the tent, meeting Katsuki at the end of the campsite road.
"Finally," he immediately stepped off, following the tree line. Having you jog slightly to catch up to him.
"Do you sleep okay?" you questioned, worried you kicked him or something in your sleep.
"Yeah," he replied. Well, at least he didn't sleep bad. "You?" he looked over at you briefly, before looking back up, turning into a trail that went out of the main camping area.
"Yep, best in a while actually," you followed him.
The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, trailing through the forest. The trail seemed like it faded in and out, clearly not used often enough to keep a path.
Leaves brushed past your pants as you walked through, following each step he made, keeping up with his steady pace. He often looked back to make sure you were still behind him before he made a turn slightly off path, getting yourselves deeper into the forest. It was a steady up hill for the most part, up until you hit a rocky area with a steady climb.
Katsuki easily jumped up the first step, even with it at waist height, reaching down a hand to help pull you up. He let you walk in front of him from then on, just pointing you towards where to go. Letting you climb up the slight rocks, prepared to catch you if you fell, even if it wasn't higher than five or so feet. Soon enough you were standing taller than the rest of the camp, being able to see the lake and even our campsite from the top of the rocks you climb.
"This is," you let out a breath, "wow."
"See, if you didn't get wasted last time I could of shown you then," he reminded.
You ignored him, watching how the sky was slowly gaining color from the sunrise, a faint pink and orange hue barely kissy the horizon.
"This isn't even the best part," he tugged on your arm, lightly dragging you away from the cliff edge. He went in the opposite direction from the cliff, walking through the small forest that coated the top of the rocky mountain you were on. He held unto your hand until you heard the faint noise of running water. Pulling you in front of him as he guided you to the small pond that ran off the cliff edge and into a small creek.
"Why didn't you drag me with last time," you slapped his arm lightly, walking over to the water, crouching down to feel the water. It was freezing.
"You were bitchin'," he shrugged. Setting his backpack down near a tree.
You started untying your shoes, taking them off along with your socks. On a whim deciding to unbutton your pants.
"What are you doing?" he hissed. You turned your head toward him, his face was flushed as he looked away.
"I'm getting in," you shrugged.
"You're wearing a swimsuit?" he looked back over, still red in the face.
"Nah," you pushed your pants down, "I just wear my underwear, it'll dry."
"It's fucking freezing in that water," he pointed out, looking away once again.
"Scared to join?" you teased, folding your pants and setting them on top of your shoes, doing the same with your hoodie and tank top.
"Oh fuck you," he groaned. Not wanting to back out on a challenge, he tugged his shirt and pants off quickly, leaving them on a rock near his shoes. Joining you just as you started stepping into the water.
You flinched at the temperature but forced yourself to fully get in, letting the water reach your shoulders. Hair tied up to stay dry. Katsuki was by your side after a minute.
It was funny to think that last night you changed facing away from each other, but now you were only clad in underwear and in a random pond. It wasn't a first to be around each other in underwear, you've lived together for a little over a year after all.
"Water's not too bad," you commented.
He shot you a glare, "I hate the cold."
"Ice baths are good for you though, lots of health benefits," you chimed, knowing he hated being told something he hated was good.
"Fuck em," he grunted. He let his face fall into a pout as he stared at the water as if it was his enemy. His arms crossed to hold in any warmth. Butterflies filled your stomach as you looked over his feature. He was made but he looked soft. The worries of the hero world gone, if only for a moment. He looked back up at you, "What?" he bit out.
"Nothin'," you shook your head, "Cold?"
"Obviously," he rolled his eyes.
You stepped closer to him, having stuck at arms length from him. "Hug?" you offered.
"How will that help?" he coughed.
"I don't know, body heat?" you stepped closer.
"But you're fucking freezing too," he pointed out.
"Come on, Kats," you held out your arms for him. With a pout of your lip, he groaned and stepped into your arms. Wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you towards him. "See, not to bad," you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck.
He nudged his head into your shoulder, "Shuddup." The tips of his ears stayed red from his blush, the heat from his face warming your neck. "Your warm," he muttered, pulling you impossibly closer, his watch scratching your back lightly.
You scratched at his hair, letting your hands play with the strands at the nape of his neck as you looked around. Soaking in the moment. The sky was slowly waking up, the orange and pinks that were barely visible before, took up the entire sky. A steady blue warming in as well. Katsuki let his shoulders sag into your touch as he pulled his face away, catching your attention.
"You're beautiful," he mumbled, embarrassed as he let his eyes track over your face.
"What's up with you?" you laughed shyly, "All boyfriendy recently."
"Just getting used to things more I guess," his voice was soft, but rough from his daily screaming matches with the boys.
"Took three years?" you pointed out. Watching his eyes as he looked over yours.
"You said I can do what I want right?" he asked, referencing your words from the other week when he kissed you for the first time since graduation.
You flushed, "I did."
He looked over your features again before his eyes fell to your lips. Letting his hand unhook from your waist and gently cup your cheek, just as it had that night. He admired your features for a while, letting his thumb barely trace your bottom lip before he leaned in himself. Letting himself fall into the kiss.
You tilted you head and pushed into your toes, letting yourself get impossible closer to him. Letting your body curve into his, fit alongside his perfectly. You let your hands hold unto his hair, pushing him deeper into him. Grasping onto his hair when you felt his tongue trail alongside your bottom lip. You're mouth falling open, begging him to continue the kiss.
Whining when he pulled away, out of breath and eyes lidded. "You're fine with this?" he asked hoarsely brows still furrowed from how he kissed you.
You just tugged him closer to you in response, locking your lips against his. Luckily, he quickly ran his tongue over your lip again, letting it slide into your mouth slowly. The kiss left a buzz going through your body, making your fingers twitch tighter into his hair, wanting nothing but more. Air could wait. You let your tongue fight with his for a moment, playfully toying with the new feeling of kissing him like this, before you gave in, letting him take over the kiss completely.
His hand dropped away from your face, falling back to your hip and he pulled you closer, fully into him. Groaning lowly when your thigh hit him, it falling between his legs.
The groan snapped you into reality. You were making out with Katsuki, and you felt him against your thigh. Clearly enjoying it. Just in attempt to see his reaction, you move your thigh slightly, making another groan fall from his lips and into your mouth before he pulled away from the kiss. Lazily look down at you, "We should probably stop before we.." he trailed off, his eyes falling on your lips again.
"Yeah," you nodded in agreement, looking down at his lips, plump and rosy from kissing.
Both of you sat in a daze of staring at each other, only breaking out of it when you heard faint talking in the distance.
You quickly scrambled off each other and to your clothes. Throwing them on as quickly as possible, wringing out as much water as possible beforehand. You did not want to be caught half naked in a random pond. It would wreck his hero image.
With clothes thrown on you quickly walked back towards camp, running into the couple you heard from the pond on your way down. Stopping when they asked for a picture with Katsuki. Which he was in a good enough mood to agree to.
After getting out of earshot, you started giggling to yourself. "We are so lucky we heard them."
He laughed breathlessly near you, "Yeah, would of gotten an exclusive photo otherwise."
"Your fan girls would have my head instantly," you added.
"You'd kick their ass."
You smiled at his faith in you, "Thank you, that's what I've been saying. Mei thinks I'm crazy."
After only a few tumbles, you were back at the campsite, letting the laughter from the previous conversation flow out of you. Everyone was awake when you got back. All prepared to head to the lake.
"You guys were out for a while," Mina commented, a hinting tone to her voice, "Why are your clothes wet?"
You looked down at your hoodie, the fabric of your bra having soaked the front of your shirt, just as your underwear soaked your pants. Katsuki was in the same boat.
"I took a dive in the water for a moment," you shrugged, "I'm going to put on a swimsuit, we can head out after."
And you did just that, Katsuki doing the same just after you.
You met up at Mina's side, she was in the middle of teasing Denki for how he applied sunblock.
She eyed you, "So, you guys were gone for a whileee."
"Yeah? We went on a hike?" you asked back, confused at her tone.
"You left at 6, it almost 10," she pointed out. You paled at the realization.
"It was a long walk," you defended.
Denki snorted, "Yeah a long 'walk'," he did air quotes.
Lucky enough, Katsuki was in time to hear that comment and swatted him upside the head. Denki squawking at him.
---
The lake was calm, water a perfect temperature along with the weather. Only a few other campers were at the lake but they were a good distance away. You would be able to mess around with your group without having to worry about being too loud or press getting photos.
You guys had set out chairs next the shore and some coolers, one filled with alcohol and the other having food. When the sunblock was all applied and dried, you and Mina instantly ran in. Her challenging you to a race and easily beating you.
"Mina!" you heard Kirishima shout before he tackled Mina into the water. You stepped back from the two, seeing them actual start to drown each other.
"Hey."
You squeaked, scared of being dunked. Turning to see Sero smirking at you.
"Scared of some water?" he teased.
"I'm scared of being drowned by a pro hero, yes," you turned back to watch Mina and Kirishima start to calm down. Unfortunately seeing them start making lovey eyes and leaning in.
"I'm so thankful you and Bakugo don't do that," Sero cringed, turning away from the site.
Memories from the pond flashed through your mind, shooting a quick glance at Katsuki, who was leaned back in a foldable chair. Legs stretched out and arms crossed over his stomach. Head fully leaded back and face the sky, with a hat blocking his fat from the sun.
"I doubt me and him would ever do that," you agreed, shaking your eyes off of Katsuki.
"You guys were gone for a while this morning," he elbowed you.
You scoffed, "It's a long walk."
"Yeah sure," he laughed, "At least we didn't have to hear it."
"Nothing happened," you shoved him into the water.
Sero started making kissing noises.
"Shut up!" you hushed, looking to see if Katsuki heard. When you aw him lift his hat slightly to peak at you, you jumped Sero. Submerging him under water as you smiled back at Katsuki.
Once he put his hat back over his head you let Sero go.
"I know I'm a hero and everything but damn your strong," Sero laughed, coughing some water out.
"Don't cross me," you jokingly threatened.
"You guys seem to be doing better though, he didn't throw your shoes off his chair last night," Sero commented, voice low so others didn't hear, "Was he just off that party?"
"No, he just doesn't like his hands touched for too long," you shrugged, "He always shakes my hands off after a couple minutes."
Sero hummed, "Well I'm getting a beer, want any?"
"Nah, I'll drink the rest of my wine tonight though," you twisted in the water, letting the water swish near you.
Soon you heard Mina start giggling, so you turned and saw her and Kirishima obviously flirting. "Guys!" faked throwing up, "Get a room."
Mina groaned, "You're just like Bakugo," she stuck her tongue out at you, you doing the same.
Before you saw anything more you decided to bug Katsuki, walking out of the water and grabbing a towel to wrap around you shoulders before walking to his seat. With the new shade you moved his hat off his face.
"Hi," you smiled down at him, happy to be here.
"Hey," he returned, "Why ain't you in the water?"
"Missed you," you shrugged, "you should join us."
He hummed, looks around the lake. "We brought the paddle board right?"
"I think Kiri set it up," you looked around for it, seeing it leaned against the picnic table, "Yeah he brought it."
Katsuki stood up, stretching slightly before moving over to it. You had trouble keeping your eyes off the way his back rippled with each movement. He grabbed the paddle board and placed it in the water, "Hold it will ya?" he gave you the foot strap, making you keep it from going too far away as he walked to grab some fishing stuff.
It was small hobby he hardly got to do, but he loved it all the same. Once he grabbed a fishing pole and the right bait he walked back over to you. Setting his stuff down to the said as he grabbed the foot strap from you.
"Get on," he directed, holding the board still. Unaware you were going with you quickly put your towel down before carefully getting on, keeping yourself near the front so he had room on the back.
He handed you the paddle and his fishing gear before he joined you on the board. Taking the paddle from off your lap and pushing you guys off the shore and into the waters.
"Don't fuck on that paddle board! I want to use it later," Denki shouted from his spot next to Sero.
"Shut your damn mouth," Katsuki wacked him with the paddle once close enough.
Denki and Sero crackled out a laugh as Katsuki paddled away from them, further out into the lake.
He was mumbling under his breath. Before he could let it consume his thoughts more you spoke out, "It's beautiful here."
You looked around the lake, it was surrounded by greenery, cliff formations closing the lake in, making it feel closed off from the rest of the world. It was peaceful, Cottonwood trees shedding and filling the air with small puffs of white cotton, it looked like a dream.
"Yeah, last year you were too drunk to remember anything," he poked. Reminding you of how last year you were stumbling around half the time. You hardly remembered that trip, just the bruises that followed when you got back. You had countless scratches covering every inch of you.
You turned to shoot his a glare, seeing him looking amused at your frustration. "Well at least I had fun, you had a stick too far up your ass to have any," you shot back.
He glared at you for a second before letting his face rest again, paddling you guys into a small cove, good for fishing and still in sight of your group. Slowly you turned to face him, careful not to shake the board much.
Katsuki was tying on a hook, looking down intently at the knot. His brows furrowed as he focused. You watched as he tied it off and attached some bait before throwing it in.
Only then did he look at you, finally feeling your eyes on him. "What?"
"Just funny watching the symbol of strength tie a knot," you grinned.
He rolled his eyes. Silence took over for a moment, a heavy breath falling from his lips, "It's still all crazy to me."
"What is?" you shuffled slightly, leaning back on your hands rather then having your back hunched.
"Everything," he looked around, "Like, I really am number two."
"Yeah, you are the shit," you joked.
He shot you a look, sighing, "Not even just that, I'm second and I'm fine with it. Obviously I'll beat Deku soon, but for now I'm content."
Feeling the shift of the conversation, you joined in, "Well you've grown up a lot, you're not who you used to be in middle school anymore."
"It's weird," he looked down. Playing with the string at the end of the pole. "So much has changed but so little at the same time. I've become a top pro hero but I'm still closest to our class in UA."
"Yeah," you nodded along, watching how the sun hit his hair, " I mean, I'm in the top of my business yet I'm still dating you," you teased wanting to lift some weight from the conversation.
He looked up at you, keeping his head down, "No idea why you are. Our relationship is one of the things that haven't changed at all."
"Which is good," you finished for him.
"I mean at all," he added on, "We haven't changed our relationship since second year."
"That's not true," you frowned at him, "We've grown closer, we live together now, we go on dates," you started to list.
"You know that wasn't what I meant," he raised his head, moving to reel in the fishing pole, no longer in the mood for it. Connecting it to the side of the paddle board, securing it so he didn't have to worry about it. Same with the paddle, letting you guys drift with the wind.
"Then what do you mean?" you were trying to get him to say it. He's been hinting at it for ages but hasn't actually said it.
He raised an eyebrow at you, "Need me to spell it out?
"Yes actually."
"We've kissed five times in the total of three years, having know each other since we were fuckin' five," he explained.
"Yeah and?" you pushed.
"E' and Mina have been dating for all of three weeks officially and have probably done everything under the sun," he stated.
"What does that have to do with us?"
"It's just my fault, you've apparently have been wanting to and I've been holding you back," he confessed, shame filling his eyes as he looked at you.
"I'm fine just with you by my side," you answered, leaning up to grab his hands. A spark shooting out before you could.
"Fuck sorry," he dipped his hands in the water, then turned his watch on and his quirk off.
"Have you figured out why you spark?" you wondered, looking at his hands.
He looked back up at you, his eyes clearly searching for a way out of the conversation. His quirk activating clearly setting him far from the idea of talking about it anymore. "I just was trying to keep the watch off to test it earlier," he shrugged.
"No," you shook your head, " I meant overall."
Katsuki paused, looking back down at his hand. You wanted to comfort him, he was obviously not willing to talk about his quirk but you wanted him to confined in you.
Before you could cut in, his hands shot out and grabbed you by your knees, pulling you into him. He smirked at you, wearing his classic grin he wore in battle. The one that made you weak. Your hands flew to his chest to keep balance. "What are you doing?" you squeaked.
Instead of giving an answer he leaned down and crushed your lips in a kiss.
In just the span of a month, you doubled your kiss count with him, and made out with him.
You held your hands steady on his shoulders, letting yourself fall into the kiss, bones melting into his hold as his teeth nipped at your bottom lip.
A gasp left your lips as you tied to deepen the kiss, pushing yourself more unto him.
Unfortunately in the process of doing that, you pushed both him and yourself off the paddle board. Breaking apart before you hit the water.
You came back up laughing together.
---
Everyone only got tired of the lake way into the afternoon. Finally decided to go back for dinner. Which would take a while to set up as it is. Especially with Katsuki wanting to cook a steak on the fire. While he seasoned the steak he left Kirishima to start the fire.
You took your wine out of the cooler, quickly taking the cork out. Everyone, minus Katsuki, was well over tipsy. Having been drinking since the start of the day, so you needed to catch up.
Mina stepped to your side as you poured yourself a cup. "So," she swayed, "Bakugo's a lot calmer today than yesterday."
"Okay?" you focused on how much wine you poured yourself, having a third of your wine in one cup.
"And I saw you two on the paddle board," she hinted.
"Okay?" you took a sip of your wine, finally looking at her.
"Saw you kiss too," she stated.
You flushed, "What are you getting at?"
"Did you guys do it in the forest?" Mina asked excited.
"What?" you coughed, "No!"
"Come on, you can tell me," she pleaded, "Me and E have a bet going."
"We did not have," you lowered your voice, "sex in the forest."
She huffed, "Lame, did you at least do something?"
"Mina," you groaned, embaressed.
"You did!" Mina squealed, "What did you do?"
Katsuki heard the squeal, being only ten or so feet away, and turned his head, "You did what?"
You lost all color in your face, throat going dry. He only just started kissing you. You didn't know how'd he react you telling Mina of all people. You didn't even know if Katsuki talked about that stuff to other people, he didn't even talk about it with you.
"She's just telling me what you guys did in the forest," Mina teased.
Katsuki face flushed red.
"I didn't tell her anything!" you cut in, "She's just making stories to herself."
"Get your nose out of it racoon eyes," Katsuki spat.
You were relived he wasn't mad at you. You didn't know how you would handle that.
Picking up your cup, you decided to drown out the thought with some more alcohol. Switching to listen to the boys banter about who could get a brand and be plain faced during it. Clearly it wasn't wise to keep them near the fire. Deciding to no longer watch that shit show, which Mina joined to egg them on, you walked up to Katsuki. He was still seasoning the steaks, eyes focused as he carefully chose what to add. You stood being him, uttering a small hi before you raised on your tip-toes and rested your chin on his shoulder. Getting his view of the steak.
"Is Mina giving you a rough time?" he mumbled, voice low so the others wouldn't hear.
"Not really," you wrapped your arms around his waist, "she just really thinks we had sex."
He scoffed but didn't add anymore, he just let you watch him. Only pulling away when it was time to put the steak on the fire pit, having them hover on a small grate to cook fully.
---
You stared up fascinated by the stars, they covered the entire span of the sky. With the pollution in the city, you hardly saw the stars unless you were out in the mountains like you were now. It was a breath of fresh air in so many ways. It calmed your soul.
Every part of this camping trip did. You and Katsuki got time together, away from the stress of the world, and you got to spend it surround by your closest friends. They were always lively but you could tell they were even more alive with this trip. It's been the thing you guys talked about all summer. Planning every moment so you could live it up to the fullest. Yet, typical to the group, you guys didn't follow a single plan. The only plan you did follow was getting drunk each night. The group will have downed every last drink in the cooler by the end of tonight.
You looked back down towards the group, they were laughing at the old stories they shared from high school. It was a bond you didn't have with them. After the first year, you were back to a somewhat normal high school experience. And you'd rather forget that year, everything went horribly. You looked at the back of Katsuki's head, watching as he shook his head at what Sero said. You don't think you'd ever forget how you had smeared Katsuki's own blood on his face, trying to keep him with you. Fighting to stop his blood from flowing out of him before he pulled your hands up to his face weakly.
Tears blurred the look on his face, and you hated that you might of forgot his face. Might of had your last moments with his face foggy with tears. It ate you up inside.
The wasn't the only time you've seen him like that, and it wouldn't be the last, but it definitely set a dark tone for each day he left for work. Worried he wouldn't come back that same night. Wouldn't be there to yell at you for reading too much and not there to complain about your shows. The fact that you'd have to eat his last premade meals without him.
You worried about your friends too. You glanced at Mina. There was a day where each of your friends almost died. Mina have burned her own skin off with her quirk. It was a fate that shattered your heart, yet it happened in the hero world all too often. Denki constantly fried his own brain within an inch of life and Kirishima has broken pieces of his skin off after rough villain encounters. Hell, even Sero was almost strangled with his quirk.
Dark memories flooded your brain. Each day they sacrificed themselves yet they were sitting here without a care in the world as they sipped on their drinks. Sometimes it felt like you were the only one that cared and felt the toll, but Katsuki came home drained enough times for you to know that just isn't true. They find that saving others is worth ripping themselves apart. You shook your head at the idea. It was selfish of you, but you knew they wouldn't be selfish of themselves, so someone had to.
Not allowing yourself to fall deeper into that long fall, you took a deep breath and watch how alive they were right now. The biggest thing about knowing heroes, was that you had to live in the moment rather than the what ifs. Those would tear every inch of you apart.
The trees framing the campsite didn't look nearly as alive as your group did. They sat around the fire, poking fun at each other any chance they got. Bringing up Denki's horrible pick up lines and Kirishima's brick of a head. Their very much alive laughter echoing around your campsite.
The group was stuffed full, sitting around the campfire as they told stories. Alcohol stirring up their blood warm.
"No I swear," Denki laughed, "Bakugo literal came up to the photographer and barked."
"Shut it," Katsuki growled at him.
You were gathering supplies to make smores, craving them with the energy of camping. Arms full you walked back to Katsuki and dumped everything on his lap. "Thank you," you hummed, ignoring his protest.
Grabbing the graham-crackers from his lap you cracked one for a smore. "Can you prepare one for me too?" Katsuki asked, putting a marshmallow on a stick for both you and him.
"Breaking your diet?" you quirked a brow but prepped a smore for him as well. Placing less chocolate on his than yours because you knew he didn't care for sweets.
"Haven't had a smore since I was a kid," he confessed, handing you your stick.
"Seriously?" you were shocked, "Are you talking about that summer from when we were seven?" Recalling the last time he made a smore well. He boasted about his skills until he dropped his second one into a fire.
"Yeah," he followed your movements and put his marshmallow above the fire, letting it slowly melt.
"You guys are so cute," Mina gushed. Honestly, you were so wrapped up in your conversation with Katsuki and the memories, that you forgot about everyone else.
You felt the warm of your blush in your ears, grateful that it was dark and no one could poke fun.
"I'm serious," she whined at your silence, thinking you were disagreeing, "Childhood best friends to lovers, I mean come on! Who doesn't love that trope?!"
It was obvious she was drunk.
"Mina, you're drunk," Katsuki shook his head.
"I don't know, I agree with her. It's admirable," Kirishima followed.
"Thank you," she huffed happily.
"I don't know how you've stayed loyal for so long," Denki said, fumbling when you all gave him a weird look, "In the sense of never having a relationship with someone else before, not cheating."
Sero hummed, "Yeah, weird to know you guys haven't dated anyone but each other."
Katsuki shot you a look, you returning it all the same.
"Wait," Sero leaned forward, "Have you guys dated other people?"
"I haven't," Katsuki side eyed you as he focused back on his smore.
Mina whined your name, "Why haven't I been told this?"
"Did we go to school with them?" Denki butted in.
"It had to of been during first year right?" Sero analyzed.
"Oh my god," you shot Katsuki a glare, annoyed he pushed you into the wolves, "It was middle school." He was smug, seeing his friends basically gasp in betrayal before they heard the 'middle school.'
They let out a series of 'ohs.' The dots easily connecting for them. They never heard you mention anyone in first year, plus you dormed with them so their was no way they wouldn't of noticed someone you were dating.
"See. Not a big deal," you kicked your foot into Katsuki's. Annoyed at how he made it seem. They didn't know before because it was irrelevant. You often forgot about it entirely until he threw it in your face as a joke.
"Still, didn't you have a crush on him then?" Sero pointed out.
Making Katsuki turn his attention back on you, "Did you?" Another thing that wasn't shared
"Yes," you looked at him for a moment, "Hence why the relationship was nothing." You and Katsuki never got deep into the discussion of when your feelings started. Just deciding to date after agreeing on mutual feelings and never really resurfacing it.
You looked back at your smore, you've been absentmindedly rotating it, a little too low into the fire. It was charred. You pulled it back to sadly put into a smore. Looking at Katsuki ready marshmallow before making yours.
"Awh," you pouted, "Can we trade? Your looks better," you basically pleaded.
With a huff he gave in, "Fine."
"Thank you," you smiled at him happily. Putting your mostly charred marshmallow into his less chocolatey smore and putting his golden brown marshmallow into your chocolate heavy smore.
You looked back at the group after handing Katsuki his smore. Happy with the new arrangement.
They were in disbelief, Denki speaking up first, "We're not just moving past your previous relationship, are we?"
"Why does it matter?" Katsuki butt in, confused about how this turned into an entire conversation.
"How does it not matter?" Sero shot back, "Your entire relationship is a lie."
Katsuki rolled his eyes, "Not really. It's one small thing that you didn't know."
"It was a dumb middle school relationship," you filled in.
"Yeah, a relationship before Bakugo," Mina added on, "I need details."
Now you were rolling your eyes, "I don't even remember his name at this point, it's been like five years," you dismissed.
"You player," Denki cut in. You gave him a 'really' look, "Hey! I remember their names."
"I dated him for a week before we 'broke up,' it was hardly a relationship. I think we just dated for a school dance," you shrugged, biting into the smore Katsuki made for you. Melting into your seat at the sweet taste.
"Why'd you break up?" Kirishima questioned for the first time.
You smirked, glancing at Katsuki who was already shaking his head. Glad that the conversation could be flipped back onto him. "This dude," you pointed your thumb at him over your shoulder, looking at the group to see their reaction, "Scared him off by barking. Seems like a habit he hasn't lost."
Denki started cracking up, hunching over and spilling his beer sightly, "Why do you do that?" he laughed harder seeing Katsuki's face scrunch.
"He was dropped on his head," you answered for him.
Denki fell over sideways in his chair, the alcohol clearly making him laugh harder than usual. He always laughed when you and Katsuki bickered, but never this hard.
"Fuck you," Katsuki spat at you, "Shouldn't of given you my smore."
"You're the one that started this conversation," you shrugged, patting your stomach, "Smore was delicious though. Would of been a waste on your lame tastebuds."
"My tastebuds are normal," he argued. Kirishima laughed. "What?" Katsuki growled at him.
"Bro, you chug protein drinks and don't even wince," Kirishima answered.
"Cause I'm not a little bitch," Katsuki defended.
You and Mina cringed. "I can't believe you kiss that guy," Mina looked at you face holding pure disgust. You snorted out a laugh at Katsuki's face.
"Me either," you agreed, likely for different reasons.
"That's it," Katsuki stood up, standing in his classic gremlin stance. Arms out, hands up, and knees bent. He sparked his hands briefly, which made you oldy relived. It was nice to know he didn't have the watch constantly turning his quirk off, that wouldn't be good for him. "I'll kill you all," he stepped straight past you and marched to the others.
Denki scrambled behind a chair, pointing out at you when Katsuki stormed past you, "How come she doesn't?"
"She has to go home with me, she'll get it," Katsuki stomped towards the electric blonde. You blushed at the way Katsuki said it, knowing the others would think of it the same way as you.
"Ew," Sero gagged, "I don't want to hear about your sex life."
Katsuki's hand sparked brighter, "That's not what I meant!"
"Sureee," Mina teased, sending you a wink, "Hear that, you're gonna get it later."
You were bright red at this point. "Shut it," Katsuki all but shouted, running towards Mina. Quickly chasing her around the campsite. Mina using her acid to slide further away from him.
---
After Katsuki successfully singed everyone at least one, they gave in. Kirishima, Sero, and Denki all having cried 'uncle' when Katsuki twisted their arm behind their back. Winning easily due to them all being wasted. Katsuki quickly yelled at them to go to bed. Wanting them to sleep before the group hike early tomorrow so they were back in time to pack up to go back home.
Just like everyone else, you stumbled into the tent, similar to how you did the night before. Barely able to unzip the tent to get in, having Katsuki open it for you
"You're a mess," Katsuki chuckled, zipping the tent close behind him after he saw you stumble in.
You grumbled, grabbing the ends of your shirt and raising it above your head. It was dark enough so he'd hardly see as well as anything he would see, he saw earlier in the pond. Which was a lot more intimate than this. You also had the liquid courage of wine in your system.
"What are you doing?" Katsuki hissed.
"Huh?" you turned to look at him, shirt off your head and in your hands.
"Oh god," Katsuki snapped his head the other direction, his quirk sparking off before he quickly fumbled for his watch, turning his quirk off. "Put a shirt on."
You reach to grab your bag off the floor, setting it on the bed to put your shirt back in, grabbing a sleep shirt, "Why does it bug you?"
"Your half naked," he exclaimed in a hushed tone, not wanting the others to overhear despite them being at least twenty feet away.
"Need I remind you of the pond?" you raised your brow at him, but followed his wish. Pulling your shirt back over your head.
"That's different," he argued, looking back at you.
"I was also in a swimsuit all day," you pointed out, unhooking your bra from under your shirt.
He flushed so bright you could see it well even in the dark, "Will you stop that?"
"I'm just getting cozy," you shrugged, "You could do the same y'know?"
You pulled off your pants to slip on your sleep shorts.
"Oh my god," he groaned. You would of laughed at his dramatics but he was covering his eyes at this point.
"What's so bad about it?" you asked softly.
"You're half naked," he repeated.
You crossed your arms over your stomach, "And that's a problem?"
"Yes!" he exclaimed. Exclaimed. Eyes still covered.
"Y'know," you paused for a shaky breath, "you make me feel so insecure."
"What?" he dropped his hands from his eyes.
You looked down, "You're acting disgusted by my body."
"What?" he repeated, "That's not what-"
"Yes it is Katsuki," you cut him off. You could physically feel like heart drop at you calling him his full name and not just Kats. "You're covering your eyes and telling me to cover up. You'd think my boyfriend," you emphasized, "of three years wouldn't be appalled at the idea of my body. "
"You've got it all wrong," he step towards you, you taking a step back.
"Do I?"
"Yes, extremely," he nodded, frustrated.
"Then explain it to me," you offered, "Jolting away from my touch and hugs all these years and now wishing me to not show my skin."
"Fuck," he rubbed his hand over his face, taking a step closer to you, "I just can't handle it. It's too much for me," he admitted.
"I'm going to need you to elaborate."
"It's overwhelming, becomes all I can think about," he took a step closer, and you let him. Arms still crossed as you looked up at him. "I want you more than anything, fuck, more than being number one."
You dropped your arms to your sides, "What?" you asked softly.
"I can't let you touch me for too long because then I just want more. Can't look too long or I'll want to see more," he spoke softly, "it's fucking annoying."
"Then why haven't we..." you left off, knowing he got the hint.
"I'm fuckin scared," he ran his hands through his hair.
"Kats, there nothing to be scared of, " you tried to comfort, "What could the symbol of strength possibly be scared of?"
"Of just that."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm worried I'm going to fuckin' blow you up or something," he blurted.
You paled, expecting anything but that.
"Fuckin' see?" he sat down roughly on the air mattress, resting his elbows on his knees as he held his head in his hands.
You took a seat next to him, rubbing a hand up and down his back. "Why have you never told me?" you asked gently.
"Didn't want to bother you with this stupid shit," he slapped his hands down, looking over at you.
"It's not stupid," you shook your head at him.
"I should be over it at our grown ass age," he huffed, his eyes were getting bloodshot.
"How are you going to get over something you've never addressed?" you pointed out. Dragging his hands away from his eyes when he tried to rub at them. "Why do you think you'll do that?"
"I can't fucking control it, you see my quirk go off," he stared down at his hands.
"Do you know why it does?" you were trying to figure him out, for his sake and yours.
He sighed, "I get freaked out," he paused for a while, "I get nervous then I start freaking out about my quirk going off and it does."
"I don't see it happening in interviews?" you questioned, knowing he gets anxious in those.
He gave you a blank stare, "What are you? Stupid?"
"Hey!"
"I get nervous around you," he spelt out, "This shit only happens around you."
You flushed from head to toe. All you could do was stare at him dumbly. Mei was right. His quirk went off because of you. You couldn't help the light smile that crossed your face.
"The fuck you smilin' for?"
"I honestly just relived," you confessed, "I thought your quirk going off meant that you wanted me as far away as possible, since when I got too close you pushed me away."
"You'd think your quirk would help your dumbass brain but it doesn't," he looked at you in disbelief, "Why would I be with you?"
"It's also why I thought you kept bring up the physical touch thing," you shrugged, "Thought you were using it as your way out of the relationship."
"Why would of put up with your shit if I didn't want you?" he pointed out.
"Y'know, Mei brought up the same points," you laughed.
He groaned, "Mei knows?"
"Sorry," you apologized, "It was eating me up inside."
"It's fine," he brushed off, "I'm sorry too, didn't really think about what you thought was going on till recently."
"It's fine," you stifled a yawn.
"Tired?"
"Very," you admitted.
"Sleep, we have an early mornin'," he motioned to the bed. You happily moved up the bed, happy to get cozy under the covers next to him after he changed into his sleepwear. Watching the way the small light of the flashlight, used to light your way to the tent, created shadows over the span of his back. It was always a welcomed site to see. It felt even better now, knowing that he wanted you in the same way you wanted him.
"It's fuckin' cold," you mumbled, holding the blanket over your cheeks as you curled up.
Without saying a word, Katsuki pulled you into his side. He was a human furnace, so you instantly melted into his side. Flushed with the closeness. Having gone three years with no touch, to making out in a pond and cuddling in bed together in the same day.
The relief the conversation gave you was insane, you no longer felt disgusted and you no longer felt like he wanted out of the relationship.
This camping trip lifted more than a small weight off your shoulders, but all the insecurities and worries of your relationship along with it. Progress in the right direction could finally be made, rather than the stand still you've been at this entire time.
You let out a sigh of relief, curling into his side more as you let sleep cloud your brain.
-Next Part-
I did not expect this to be so damn long, fuck. I've written this in two days and it's literally the longest thing I've ever written for a chapter. I hoped you like the camping trip, it was fun to write and I hope I illustrated it well enough. Thank you <3
In them m.list of this fic comment if you want to be added into a tag list <3
I'll no longer add people to the taglist if they haven't commented there. It's too much to keep up with all the new part. Hope you understand <3
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steveslevis · 6 months
Text
‘tis the damn season
AUTUMN
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chapter contents/warnings: exes to whatever the hell this is, a little bit of smut, angst, weed and alcohol use, mutual pining, steve is an idiot and is afraid of commitment </3, barely proofread (sowwy)
w/c: 5.3k
The first big frost of the season blankets the town of Hawkins when you arrive on Wednesday night, the bits of ice glittering on the orange and brown leaves making the barren streets seem less intimidating as you make your way through your hometown for the first time in months. 
There’s a sense of anticipation and dread that fills your stomach while navigating the streets you know so well, knowing you’re going to be asked the same mundane questions about college in the big city a thousand times over during the next three weeks. You know that’s not the only thing filling you with dread for the weeks to come, but keep telling yourself that’s all you have to worry about — right?
The first evening you arrive in town is jam-packed, since your friends insisted on having a so-called “Friends-giving-mas” as the night that you arrived, due to your anticipated absence on the aforementioned Christmas. You spend a few hours with your mom and dad before leaving, enlisting your mom to help you make some cookies for the party, promising you’d leave her and your dad some behind. 
The clock hits 7 p.m. and you’re finally finished getting ready, having just thrown on a red velvet, long sleeved dress that hit just above your knees and your best black boots, Robin had requested everyone to look their best so she could take photos with her new camera throughout the party. You grabbed your secret santa gift and jacket, checking yourself in the mirror one last time before leaving your room. 
“Alright, I’m leaving.” you call out as you bound down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“Don’t forget your cookies, sweetheart! They’re on the table.” she replied from her place next to your dad on the couch, watching some rom-com while he was dozing beside her, “if you need us to come pick you up, we will.”
You let out a laugh at her remark, knowing that you were only walking to the next house over on the road, so picking you up would be ridiculous. 
“Oh, I think I’ll manage just fine.” you joke in return while grabbing the plate of cookies, “love you guys!”
—————————
The outside of the Harrington’s house is gleefully lit with warm string lights, wreaths already adorning the front windows and main door to the house in anticipation of Christmas in a few weeks. You always admired the way their house looked during the holidays, but knew it was only a cheery facade to hide the dysfunction that lay within the halls of the residence.
You knew the family all too well, having grown up next to Steve your entire life. You were the same age as him, grew up attending all the same parties as him, but ran in completely different circles than him — well, up until your senior year of high school at least. 
Long story short, being best friends with Robin led to you ultimately becoming so-called friends with Steve Harrington as well. The two of you had what you now called a stupid summer fling before you left for Chicago in August, but the rest was history. The two of you had agreed to stay civil and not let the remnants of any unresolved feelings come between your friendship and the rest of the friend group.
So here you were, knocking on Steve Harrington’s front door on a random Wednesday in late November, cookies in hand as you stood there, shivering. You faintly hear Robin say that she would get the door, then hear footsteps pad towards the entrance. 
You’re greeted by your best friend with the strongest hug you swear you’ve ever experienced, and you feel like you might not ever be let go if she has anything to say about it.
“Oh my god! I missed you so much.” Robin exclaims, the widest grin on her face as she grabs for your hand, “everyone’s in here, we’re just waiting on Nance and Jonathan then we’ll be ready to eat but come in! I have so much to tell you about everything you don’t even know—” 
You follow behind her wordlessly, smiling to yourself as she rambles on about college applications and band and Vickie — who just so happened to be in the kitchen helping finish making the mashed potatoes so you had to be quiet — and everything that she can think to fit in a conversation to catch her best friend up on after months without. She leads you to the dining room after dropping off the cookies, where you hear two familiar voices having a very passionate conversation. 
“I’m telling you, man, I’m cursed—“
“You’re not cursed, Harrington. I’m telling you, you’re just looking in the wrong place for love.” Eddie retorts to his frustrated friend, rolling his eyes at him.
“Oh yeah? And where should I be looking?” Steve snorts, haphazardly tossing forks, knives and spoons atop the napkin at each seat of the table.
“I’ve been saying ever since what happened this summer, you should be going after — oh shit, Y/N!” Eddie interjects, cutting himself off when you trail in behind Robin.
The metalhead pulls you in for a bear hug, whispering in your ear about how he promises not to ask you boring questions about college like everyone else. As you’re being engulfed in his embrace, you hear the sound of silverware tumbling to the ground from the other side of the table, followed by a string of mumbled curse words from the dropper.
You pull away from Eddie’s hug to look at where the noise is coming from, only to see Steve fumbling with a fork and spoon while trying to stand up from where he was just kneeling. Your gaze lingers on him for a moment too long, taking in everything about him that you told yourself you didn’t miss. Eddie gives you a knowing look and you roll your eyes, knowing that he’s trying to tell you to not make things weird, so you try your best.
“Stevie, how are you?” you call to him while walking around the table, putting on the best oblivious and excited face that you can.
“H-Hey, Y/N.” Steve says, feigning coolness as he pulls you in for a quick hug, nearly stumbling over his words when you use the nickname you always loved to tease him with, “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.” 
His eyes flicker over to Robin momentarily, who shoots him a guilty grin before mouthing ‘sorry’ over your shoulder.
“Yeah, it was kinda last minute on my part, I just so happened to be coming home tonight since my finals were all at the beginning of the week. I kinda forced Rob to tell me when it would be so I could crash it,” you lie, trying to throw the blame on yourself instead of her, “sorry if I messed anything up, I-I’ll lay low and won’t eat if that messes up numbers or something—“
“No!” Steve rushes to retort, shaking his head at you adamantly, “I mean, shit—sorry. No, you’re not messing anything up at all, you know you’re always welcome here.” 
The smile on Steve’s face is genuine as he speaks, but there’s a glint of sadness in his eyes while he scans yours for any sign of hesitancy. You give him a small smile in return, quickly moving your gaze from his to push down that sinking feeling in your chest you know is coming. Your chest aches as you focus your eyes downward, realizing that this night would be a lot harder than you had convinced yourself that it would be. 
“Well!” Robin interjects, interrupting the growing awkward silence filling the air of the dining room where you stood. She reached for your hand while smiling over at you sympathetically, beginning to drag you towards the kitchen as she spoke, “gotta go say hello to everyone else before dinner!”
Your best friend whirled you around to the rest of the guests–which was just Nancy, Jonathan, and Vickie–who were all in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the meal. 
A slew of awkward questions about Chicago ensued in the moments leading up to and during dinner, but you took them in stride as they distracted you from the bright eyed boy across the table who kept sneaking glances in your direction any chance he got. You explained your major, what you did for work outside of class time, and talked about all the new friends you met in the short few months you’d been gone. You could’ve sworn Steve’s jaw clenched at the mention of a date you went on prior to leaving for break, but you didn’t put too much thought into it. 
Dinner goes by fairly quickly, and then it’s time for Secret Santa gifts in the living room. Robin begged everyone to participate, and even went through the effort of making sure you and Steve didn’t get each other, partly to not ruin the surprise of you being here and partly to diminish any awkwardness that might arise from it. 
You had drawn Jonathan’s name, so you gifted him a few rolls of different camera film. Each person had to guess who their Secret Santa was, but apparently your gift was pretty obvious since he hadn’t been able to find any film like it anywhere near Hawkins, so he guessed you first. 
Your turn rolled around and a small red gift bag was sat in your lap. You immediately knew who your gift was from, halfway from the grin plastered on his face and halfway from the smell lingering from inside the back in your hands. 
“Thank you, Eddie.” you giggle out while pulling out four perfectly rolled blunts from the gift bag, courtesy of the best dealer in Hawkins.
“It’s always a pleasure,” he jabs back, “we can fire one up after presents if you’d like.” 
You nod quickly at him, grinning widely before turning back to the circle where Robin was handing out gifts.
—————————
It’s not long before drinks are flowing and laughter is spilling through the Harrington residence, something that’s happened very few times within those halls. The night seems to go by too quickly, you notice how quickly when you check and it says 11 P.M. already, even though it feels like you’ve only been there a few hours. You’re sitting on the couch with Robin and Vickie, giggling their way through a story about some guy in the Hawkins band, when the sight of the back door sliding open and closed catches your eye. 
You turn your gaze to see Steve stalking into the cold on his own, head turned down as he walks towards one of the ice-slicked pool chairs on the deck. A frown passes over your face as you furrow your brows, excusing yourself from the couple on the couch as you slip outside to follow him with your bottle of wine, one of your newly gifted blunts and a lighter in hand. 
It’s the last thing you should be doing tonight, really. You shouldn’t be following Steve Harrington – the man who was too afraid to say he loved you and too afraid to commit to you – onto the porch. You should’ve stayed inside and drank some more wine with the rest of them and let yourself cut loose for once, but you just couldn’t do it. You just had to talk to him – you weren’t so sure what you wanted to talk about, but you just felt the need to.
“You alright?” was all you could slip out as you closed the sliding glass door, watching the brown haired boy from afar, making sure you weren’t making the wrong decision.
“Yeah–Yeah, just needed a little bit of fresh air.” Steve stammered, eyes widening for only a moment when he notices that it’s you that followed him outside.  
You only hum in response, stepping closer to him as you sense no annoyance or anger in his voice, finding a spot on the chilled pool chair next to his. After setting down the bottle of wine you’d been nursing throughout the night, you took the blunt you’d brought as a peace offering between your fingers and waved it in front of his face.
Steve looked up for a moment, gaze shifting between the blunt between your fingers and your lips that curled up into a mischievous yet friendly smirk. His own lips perked up in a lopsided smile, raising an eyebrow at you when you brought the blunt to your lips, followed by the lighter.
“Would you like to partake?” you joke while puffing smoke through your lips, mixing with the cold puffs of breath coming from Steve’s. 
“I’ll never say no to that,” he retorts, reaching to grab the blunt from your fingers. 
There’s a breath of comfortable silence between the two of you as he inhales, then lets out a long exhale before focusing his gaze back onto the pool in front of him, onto the ice forming on the pool cover as a way to avoid your eyes. 
“So, how’s the Stevie Harrington been faring since I’ve been gone?” you joked after a moment more of the quiet, shoving any nerves down that were threatening to force you to run back inside. 
Awful, utterly dull and extremely depressing, was what Steve wanted to say. 
He wanted to tell you how he fucked up so badly, how he hasn’t been the same since the last time he saw you, how he hasn’t even been able to look at anyone without thinking of you. He wanted to grab you by the cheeks and pull you in for a kiss and never let go. He wanted to scream and tell you how much he regretted ever letting you leave without knowing how he really felt, but he couldn’t now. It was too late, so he just said; “Oh, y’know. I’ve been fine. Just the same shit, different day.”
Steve wanted to kick himself for saying something so lame, something so uninteresting when the most interesting person in the world was sitting right in front of him. 
“Does ‘same shit, different day’ just mean you’re stuck being the same old chauffeur-babysitter you’ve been for the last two years?” you tease, reaching down to grab the bottle of wine at your feet. 
“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Steve chuckled, giving you a warm smile as he took another puff. 
It only took a few moments to finally break the ice between the two of you, then things fell right back into place, right back into a comfortable normalcy. There was something that put you so at ease being outside with him, being able to talk to him without the looming thought of who would be the first to say “I love you” or who would be the first to leave waving over both of your heads. 
The next hour went by in a breeze, and it seemed the party inside died down by the time the two of you decided to walk back in. Steve closed the sliding glass door behind you two and you noticed only Eddie and Robin were left standing in the living room. Vickie was presumably in the guest bed, where Robin was about to head to. Jonathan and Nancy had left twenty minutes prior, only popping their heads out to say a quick goodbye before driving off.
Robin said a quick goodnight to you before heading up the stairs, along with a promise to see you tomorrow for a girl’s day. Then, it was just you, Eddie and Steve in the living room, Eddie at the couch setting up his bed for the night while the two of you stood in silence by the sliding glass door still. 
“I–I guess I should probably head home for the night,” you say, breaking the silence between the three of you as you start towards your bag and coat on the other side of the room.
“Why don’t you just stay?” Steve interjects a little too loudly, the weed and wine in his system instilling some false confidence in him. “It’s so cold out and I’m sure at this point your parents already think you’re staying anyways.”
You stop on your toes at Steve’s voice, cheeks heating at how interested he sounded in you staying there for the night. It’s not like it was a far and dangerous walk, Steve just wanted an excuse to be around you for longer. You turn around to look at him, then to Eddie, who was giving you a tired smile.
“We can have a sleepover on the couch,” Eddie chuckles, reaching for one of the pillows he was setting out for himself to move it to the other side of the couch for you. 
“I don’t have any clothes,” you suggest, looking down at your velvet dress that would be extremely uncomfortable to sleep in. 
“Oh, I’m sure Stevie has some clothes that you can sleep in!” Eddie says, shooting a smirk in his direction.
“O–Of course I do, I’m sure I still have your favorite pajama pants up there if you want them.” Steve says hurriedly, as if you would change your mind if he didn’t answer quickly enough.
You give the two of them a smile, pretending to contemplate the decision for a moment before nodding. You could’ve sworn you heard Steve let out a breath of relief at your nod, but he turned towards the stairs before you could acknowledge it. Without a word, you follow right behind him up the stairs, slowly realizing the effects of the cherry wine and weed are coming to the surface. 
Steve steps into his bedroom and you follow behind him, a situation the two of you knew all too well. 
—————————
You don’t know what led to this, but there you were, in Steve’s bedroom, him towering over your space on his bed as he pulled you in for a heated kiss. Tongue against teeth, hands against cheeks, legs tangled together, just like they were meant to be. 
This wasn’t supposed to happen, you swore to yourself you wouldn’t come crawling back every time you were in town, but here you were. 
Somehow coming upstairs for a stupid pair of pajamas led to Steve giving you that look of lust and utter desire, led to you becoming a willing participant in his games once again after swearing you would never touch him again, led to you letting him sneak his way into your heart – and pants – yet again. 
Your head is spinning as he kisses you, his lips slotted into yours like they belonged there, a perfect fit. You’re unsure if it’s the wine, the weed or the sheer yearning that’s making you feel like this, but you don’t want it to stop any time soon. 
There’s a gnawing feeling in your stomach when Steve props his knee up on the bed next to your hip, you know you should stop before he gets any further, but the ache between your thighs is outweighing any thought of what would come after he spreads you open. 
Steve groans into your mouth when you pull him closer, fingers intertwining with and tugging the hair at the nape of his neck, and you only smirked against his lips in satisfaction. You knew everything about the boy who was turning to a puddle just from the touch of your fingers. You knew exactly how to make him tick, and him the same for you.
“Fuck,” Steve breathes when he finally pulls away from you, full lips parted as he stares down at you. There’s a twinkle in his eye that you haven’t seen in so long, one you used to mistake for love but now only know to be pure lust. “I–I’m sorry I just, I need–I need you.”
You stare at the desperate, doe-eyed man in front of you for a long moment, mind wandering to a place of fear as you think about what you’re about to do. 
Instead of saying anything in reply, you close the space between the two of you once again, smashing your lips into his in a feverish and bruising kiss. Steve is on you in an instant, gently pushing you back and up on the bed, letting your head fall on his pillows. You can tell by the way he stumbles on his way up to you that he’s intoxicated — on the weed or the wine, or you, you’re not sure — but you soon realize that you are too.
A hand wanders toward the hem of Steve’s sweater, tugging at it quickly as he pulls away from the bruising kiss. He wastes no time in pulling the cable-knit up and over his head, tossing it to the side while sitting up on his knees to take you the sight of you in. Your skin was hot and your eyes were blown with lust, cheeks flushed and lips parted as you stared up at him.
You’d only been under him for a minute and had completely folded to his touch. You cursed yourself for letting your inhibitions crumble so quickly, but another part of you didn’t actually care, the same part of you that wanted to claim him as yours forever. 
Steve’s eyes trailed over you, from your cheeks to the low neckline of your dress, over the curve of your hips, ending on your thighs spread on either side of his knees. The crushed velvet of your skirt bunched where your leg met your hip, letting the fabric ride up enough for Steve to see exactly what he was searching for. 
He sucked in a breath at the sight of your white lace underwear beneath, having to hold himself back from diving in right that second.
“You’re so beautiful,” he groaned, hands tracing over your hip bones while lowering his lips to yours once again.
A moan falls from your lips as his meet yours, his knee coming up between your thighs, creating friction against your core.
“Fuck—Stevie,” you say, choking back a pitiful whine while grinding against his thigh desperately, “please, I need you.”
You swear you hear Steve nearly choke at your words, three words he’d been dying to hear from you for months. 
“I know, I know, baby.” he coos at you, trying to keep his cool as he strains against his pants, “I’ll take care of you.”
You nod feverishly as he leans down to pepper kisses along your neck, taking his sweet time while trying not to get drunk off the scent of you.
“This—This doesn’t mean anyth—this doesn’t change anything,” he stammers between kisses, peering up at you as he speaks, “we can still stay close—keep being friends after this.”
You hum in agreement, ignoring the dread building in your gut as you do. You want to be more than friends, you want to scream at him until he admits that he loves you too. But he nearly said it doesn’t mean anything, so you’re convinced he wants nothing to do with you after tonight, nothing but a friend to laugh with and a pretty face to fuck on every break from college. 
You push the thoughts from your mind, focusing on the boy in front of you as his hands begin to massage your inner thighs, inching closer and closer to your core with every circle. Steve chuckles lowly as you let out a whine of anticipation, teasing you silently as he gives in to your desires.
Steve knows your body like he knows his own, so what comes after pulling off your dress is nearly second nature to him. One large hand trails to the waistband of your underwear while the other reaches for your breast, nipple peaked from the exposure to the cold air conditioning. You moan in surprise when he wastes no time in putting his mouth to work on your other nipple, tugging your underwear down your legs simultaneously. 
His fingers immediately fall to your core once you’re free of the underwear, fingertips circling the bundle of nerves at the top as you let out another whimper. 
His moves are careful but quick, he knows you want to waste no more time, and you’ll whine about his teasing if he doesn’t act soon. 
He’s out of his boxers in an instant, one hand keeping contact with your clit as he situates himself above you.
“You look so good like this, sweetheart.” Steve says, voice low as his eyes raked over your body, “so pretty spread out for me, all fucked out for me even though I’ve barely touched you.”
“Stevie…” you whimper, reaching a hand up to him, but he pulls from your reach with a smirk across his face.
“Tell me what you want from me,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek as he lines himself up with your slick, teasing the tip against you slowly.
“I—I need you, Steve.” you beg, cheeks flushing at the admittance, “I need you to fuck me, please.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” he retorts with a smirk, sliding into you with ease.
You both let out a low moan as he bottoms out, filling you in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. You forgot how thick he was in the time you’d been gone, your body wasn’t used to the stretch of his cock inside you, but it still felt like he was meant to be there. Like he was the only one who could make you feel this way.
And you were right, nobody could make you feel that way. Nobody else could touch you and make you fall apart in less than five minutes like he could. Nobody else could get you so riled up over a few praises thrown in with some condescension (which you embarrassingly loved too much) like he could. Nobody could hold off from cumming long enough to give you three orgasms before getting one of their own like he could. 
Nobody did it like he could.
This doesn’t mean anything you repeat in your mind, clinging to his arm like your life depended on it after the two of you calmed your breathing and cleaned up. You weren’t sure if you were repeating those words to convince yourself or to ease your own mind about what just went down, but you knew they stung your heart more than any fighting words the two of you had ever exchanged.
“I missed this, cuddling with you, holdin’ you like this.” was all he slurred out against your hair, pressing a sleepy kiss into the crown of your head.
“Yeah, me too.” you mumble in return, accepting the warmth of his embrace as sleep finally took you in, ignoring the gnawing pain growing in your chest.
—————————
The spice of Steve’s cologne mixes with the familiar scent of his room, filling your senses when you wake, nearly sending you into a panic. You sit upright in the bed, turning to face the boy you claimed you wanted nothing to do with romantically just a few hours ago. Steve is sleeping peacefully next to you, plush lips parted and brows furrowed as he subconsciously pouts about the loss of your touch. The alarm clock behind him read 2:03 A.M., meaning you hadn’t been out for too long, but long enough to sober you up somehow. 
Shit. Shit. Shit. I gotta get out of here. Is all you can think as you stumble out from under the comforter, knowing you would never live it down if anyone found you’d slept in his bed, especially with your limbs entangled like they just were. You quickly dress in the clothes you’d originally come into the bedroom to fetch, and snuck out of the bedroom without a sound. 
Before making it to the living room, you turned toward the dimly lit kitchen for a glass of water. What you weren’t expecting to be faced with in the kitchen was Eddie, but there he was, leaning against the counter with disheveled hair that probably mirrored your own. 
“What a night so far, huh?” he jokes as you shoot him a knowing glare while trudging across the tiled floor. 
“Don’t even start with me, Munson.” you warn, absentmindedly reaching your hand up to the cabinet for a glass while shaking your head.
“Woah, don’t get that attitude with me! I didn’t say anything,” he laughs, setting his own glass into the sink, “but that also doesn’t mean I didn’t hear anything.”
“You did not,” you snap back, eyes wide and cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he gives you a shit-eating grin, “there’s no way you heard anything because nothing happened.”
“You’ve always been such a bad liar, Y/N.” Eddie laughs, stepping out of the kitchen to walk towards the living room where the two of you would be sleeping. 
A sigh escapes your lips when Eddie leaves, letting you be alone with your thoughts finally. There was an ache in your chest that wasn’t going away any time soon, and it was in that moment that you wondered if you would ever be able to get over Steve Harrington, or if you would be in a continuous cycle of hurt and comfort for the rest of your damned life.
You collected your thoughts as you downed a glass of water, throwing back two ibuprofens with the last chug for good measure, before finding your way back to the living room. Eddie was on his side on the long side of the L-shaped couch, leaving the shorter side for you to sleep on. His eyes were closed as you laid down with your feet next to his own, but you knew he wasn’t asleep yet. 
“I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” you heard through the darkness after turning off the table lamp once you were settled.
“I know.” you sigh in return, staring up at the ceiling that was only lit by the streetlights flowing in from outside. “I just don’t want to live like this forever, I–I can’t keep being the secret that Steve is too embarrassed to talk about.”
“He’s not embarrassed of you,” Eddie said, voice barely above a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear, “he’s just afraid of fucking everything up even more than he already has.”
If only he could say that to my face, then maybe I’d believe it, you thought to yourself, chest tightening at just the thought of the brown-eyed boy who was fast asleep upstairs. 
You don’t reply to Eddie, unsure of what to say back, unsure of what you could squeak out without breaking down. 
“Goodnight, Eds,” is all you say in return, though you know you won’t be getting any sleep. 
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
—————————
After falling asleep for all of fifty minutes around 5 in the morning, you decided you had to leave. 
The entirety of the almost four hours you laid on Steve’s couch consisted of staring at the ceiling and fighting off tears while thinking about how you regretted everything you said and did over the last twelve hours. 
Coming to the Harrington house was a mistake, even stepping foot back in Hawkins was feeling like a mistake at this point. 
The only words repeating in your mind were This doesn’t mean anything. This doesn’t mean anything. This doesn’t mean anything.
You eventually had enough of the self-loathing and inability to sleep, so it was time to go. It was time to hastily change out of the pajamas that smelled too much like the boy you loved too hard, and time to go collapse in your own bed. There was no telling if you’d actually fall asleep once you made it there, but that was beside the point.
It was when you finally made it back to your parent’s house, to your childhood bedroom, that you swore that you wouldn’t see Steve Harrington again for the rest of Thanksgiving break, and hopefully would avoid seeing him again for a long while, for the sake of saving yourself from another heartbreak.
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tags: @carinacassiopeiae
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fuckyeahdindjarin · 1 year
Text
II ║ Threads
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Joel Miller x F!Reader
{ Part I: Seams | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }
Rating: M
Summary: When Joel revisits Main Street Outfitters two weeks later, he finds you on your knees. Again.
Warnings: Very spicy thoughts but not explicit, sexual tension, sexual innuendos, some language, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!Joel, no use of Y/N
Word count: 4.3k
Notes: This crept up on me and happened just as I was finishing up edits. I am so grateful, and I hope Threads is a fitting thank you gift to you all 😘 I’m thinking about doing a sleepover celebration, we shall see!
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Joel and Pin are back ❤️ They're back because you guys have been so generous with your love, sending me so many ideas and hyping me up - I can't thank you all enough! This chapter is all thanks to Singer machine anon who bravely (affectionate 😉) shared their story of getting stuck under a sewing machine table. I hope you enjoy this one!
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A treadle sewing machine is powered mechanically by a foot pedal that is pushed back and forth by the operator's foot. 
If you're not familiar, here is a classic Singer treadle cabinet, which is no way big enough for the purposes of this story, so please exercise your imagination 😉
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Joel hovers outside the Jackson Grocer’s, arms crossed, trying to make himself look as inconspicuous as possible in front of the leafy display of butter lettuce heads.
It’s been a few months since he’s settled in, but sometimes he can’t get over how fucking nuts this place is. Looking at the shelves brimming with fresh fruits and vegetables outside, canned food and home goods inside, he could easily be standing outside the 24/7 mart in his old neighbourhood. There are even shopping baskets, for crying out loud - stacked neatly one on top of the other by the door.
A voice pipes up from his left. ‘Didn’t know you ate greens.’
Joel scowls. ‘I don’t.’
‘Why are you loiterin’, then?’ asks Tommy, picking up a couple of apples and examining them with exaggerated care.
‘I’m not loiterin’,’ he spits out the last word as if he’s above it, turning his gaze to the high street. 
Tommy tosses him a cocky grin, head tilted at a knowing angle. ‘Yeah, you are. And now you’re makin’ eyes at Bob. It’s disturbin’.’
Glancing across the main thoroughfare at the welder’s shop, where the said proprietor is cutting up wooden planks on the porch, Joel grumbles sarcastically, ‘That’s right. Bob is just my type.’
At that very moment, right next to Bob's, the door of Main Street Outfitters creaks open, and Joel recognises Lucy instantly as she sneaks out on tiptoes. She skips down the stairs and wanders up the street in what appears to be another impromptu work break.
Joel’s already taken two steps towards the shop before he remembers that he’s not alone. Braking abruptly and bringing up one hand to scratch the back of his neck, he feels Tommy’s eyes on him.
He half-turns, and snaps, ‘What?’
The younger Miller brother shrugs, pursing his lips thoughtfully. ‘Why are you going to the Outfitters again? Didn’t you just get those new jeans a couple of weeks ago?’
‘Thought I’d get a new shirt for your stupid baby shower.’
‘Joel -’
‘Sorry, sorry.’ He throws his hands up in capitulation. ‘Baby showers are not stupid. Especially in the middle of an apocalypse.’
Taking another two steps forward, a thought stops him dead in his tracks again. He can practically feel Tommy smiling smugly at his back.
For fuck’s sake.
He doesn’t turn around this time, jamming his hands into his pockets and asks, ‘Can I bring someone? To the party?’
‘We know Ellie’s comin’.’
Whipping around, he growls, ‘Tommy -’
He laughs. ‘Well, I’ll be damned. Joel Miller makin’ friends in town? Maria’s right - you’re fittin’ right in, big brother.’
Rolling his eyes, Joel flips him off and stomps his way across the street.
Tommy calls out at his retreating back. ‘Say hello to Pin and tell her we’d love to have her come over on Sunday!’
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When he steps inside, the shop is as empty as it was a fortnight ago. Joel shuts the door firmly, making sure the bell jingles, so his entry doesn’t go unnoticed.
Your voice, though muffled, comes promptly. ‘Lucy! Is that you?’
He heads towards the doorway that leads to the workshop. ‘It’s Joel, actually.’
‘Oh, shit!’
His eyebrows reach for his hairline - you don’t seem to be the type to curse. Concerned, he asks, ‘You alright back there?’
There’s a touch of panic in your reply, ‘Don’t come back here. Did Lucy sneak out again?’
On your instruction, Joel hesitates in the middle of the room, talking to air. ‘Yeah, saw her leave a couple of minutes ago.’
‘Goddamnit, Lucy!’
He shuffles his feet awkwardly. ‘Uh, you sure you’re ok? Should I come back later?’
There’s a resigned sigh, then a pause. ‘Promise you won’t laugh.’
One end of his lips tugs upwards in a smile. ‘Why would I?’
‘Promise.’
At your insistence, he humours you, ‘Alright, I promise, sweetheart.’
‘Come on back.’
When he steps into the workshop, he doesn’t spot you immediately. The space is seemingly empty, everything standing still and in order. He sweeps his eyes across the room, starting with the shelving unit and the desk along the near wall, then trailing over the large timber work table in the middle, where a stack of folded shirts stands neatly.
His throat isn’t the only thing that tightens when he glances at the rug under the skylight -
‘Joel?’
Your voice draws his attention to the far corner of the room, where a sewing station is tucked into a little alcove.
Joel doesn’t know much about sewing machines, but he can recognise a vintage Singer anywhere even without the name blazoned across its elegant body. His grandmother had one in her drawing room by a sunny bay window, and he used to watch her work on it when he visited every other weekend. For a disorienting second, he can almost smell homemade cinnamon rolls and black tea.
Little did he know that things were about to get a lot more disorienting than a pleasant childhood memory.
As he steps around the work table, the rest of the sewing station comes into view, fronted by a big window, the light streaming through the glass glancing off the black sewing machine on top of a classic treadle cabinet. What looks like a half-finished dress lies on the wooden work surface, which stands on quintessential wrought metal legs, and between them - his throat constricts with a slow swallow when he realises what - or rather, who - he’s looking at.
The words barely come out, as if his tongue is suddenly too big for his mouth, as he makes his presence known. ‘I’m here, sweetheart.’
To be fair, you’re not making things easy by any means. All he can see is your backside hovering in mid-air, the rest of you out of sight under the desk. It has built-in cabinets on each end, the right side of it backed up against the far wall, and a chair is pushed to the side.
Joel stops two measured paces away, staring down at the curve of your ass and the way your top rides up, baring the small of your back. His eyes linger on the soft skin between the shirt’s hem and the waistband of your very tight jeans.
Jesus Christ. Do you always have to be on your fucking knees in this workshop?
Your small voice jolts him from his daze. ‘Well, at least you’re not laughing.’
He has to bite his tongue to stop himself from scoffing. If only you knew how laughing is the furthest thing on his mind right now. ‘What happened?’
‘A spool rolled off and I went down to get it, but I fell on the treadle accidentally - I think my shirt is snagged in the band wheel. I can’t move at all, and this Singer is an antique - I can't risk breaking it.’
Unfamiliar with what you’re talking about, he probes, ‘And where’s the band wheel?’
‘Under the table, on my right.’
You wriggle your hips, perhaps to help him locate where you’re stuck, unaware that you’re not helping. At all. 
He swallows thickly and implores you, ‘Stay still, sweetheart. I’ll take a look.’
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It’s been two whole weeks since Joel Miller came into the shop. You’ve caught glimpses of him in between - Jackson is tiny, after all. He catches your eye as he ambles down the high street with Ellie, his gruff Southern accent carrying even in the mid-afternoon bustle, too preoccupied arguing with the teenager to notice you on the other side of the road. He’s in the cafeteria a couple of times when you arrive for a late dinner, nodding at you from a few tables over, while you work up the nerve to smile back.
Every time, he’s wearing the jeans you handpicked for him, which makes your chest swell and constrict at the same time with something like - pride.
You picked out the pair for him. You assured him that he looks good. And by the way he’s wearing his confidence on his sleeve, he’s certainly taken your words to heart. 
Whenever you see other women eyeing him as he struts about town - which is entirely too often - it awakens an ugly possessiveness in you, one that twists your insides into grotesque balloon animals.
Fourteen damn days. Even in the privacy of your workshop, you can’t escape that man. The simple touch of denim provokes a visceral reaction from you, heat chases beneath your skin every time you pick up the tailor’s scissors. It doesn’t help that most of your daily tasks are not exactly cerebral, which gives this man all the more leeway to lay claim to your subconscious.
If you believed in magic, you would've thought you summoned him with the sheer energy you’ve spent thinking about him. But what kind of witchcraft conjured him up at the precise moment you get trapped like the bumbling idiot that you are?
One minute you’re reaching for the stupid thread, the next thing you know, you’re stuck, unable to move without the mechanisms of the antique Singer groaning ominously at your attempts to free yourself.
But maybe, it’s still better than Lucy finding you. She’d take a hammer to the sewing machine to get you out, no question - patience is not her strong suit - and she’d be laughing at you for days.
You hear the floorboards give behind you as Joel moves into the space, which isn’t much - when you’re sat down at the treadle cabinet, the wall is barely two steps behind.
The wooden table creaks above you as he braces one hand on the surface, and you startle at what sounds like the vicious crack of a vertebra.
‘Um - you okay?’
Joel grunts. ‘I’ll live.’
So you wait, thinking absent-mindedly how your elbows are starting to get numb. There’s a scruff of boots and what sounds like a brief struggle, before Joel sighs. ‘Back’s too stiff ‘mfraid. Gotta get on the floor to see underneath.’
Before you can squeak out a reply, there’s a boney click of what you presume is his knees as he crouches down, and an unexpected brush of denim on your left ankle surprises you. Forgetting where you are, you jump in reflex, hitting the underside of the table so hard that you screech in pain.
‘Shit!’ Joel cusses behind you, one warm hand landing on the side of your hip to steady you. ‘You ok?’
Up until this point, you’ve been too consumed with embarrassment by your predicament to even think about the position Joel found you in. But once the warm imprint of his palm registers through the denim, it hits you like one of those interstate trucks that you used to see out of your window.
You’re leaning on your forearms, ass in the air, and now - he’s behind you, getting onto his knees. You can’t decide if the back of your head or your pussy is throbbing harder as you stutter, ‘I’m fine, just - get me out, please.’
‘Alright, hang on, sweetheart.’
You swallow the childish urge to stamp your foot. He has no right going around dropping sweethearts all over the place.
There’s a throaty exhale as Joel lowers himself onto the floor, his knees bracketing yours to shift closer to you. You know he feels the shudder that chases down your spine when soft flannel grazes your bare back, heat spilling from his solid frame as he looms over you.
‘You say you’re stuck in the band wheel?’
Somehow, you manage to answer, ‘Yeah, to my right.’
He clears his throat. ‘I - uh - I’ll have to lean down pretty close to you to take a look, is that ok?’
You feel all the air leave your body, which is probably why your reply comes out far breathier than you intend it to. ‘Yes, Joel.’
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And with those two words, Joel has a problem with his jeans. Again.
They’re too tight. Again.
There’s nothing he can do as his mouth goes dry and his cock hardens with a vengeance, his self-control slipping like sand between his fingers.
He was doing so good - well, he was more or less holding it together, as much as he could be expected to while kneeling behind you. And of course, his damn knees hurt, but so does his bottom lip which is caught in his teeth, trying to regulate his breathing when his heart threatens to beat right out of his chest. 
He already has one hand on you, and goddamnit, it’s taking him all he’s got to hold back from gripping you with his other, to grasp the swell of your ass between his palms, to trace your curves up to the dip of your exposed waist, to bow his head and run his tongue along the arc of your spine -
And the jeans you’re wearing - fuck, they’re tight. He wonders idly if you wore them for him. His eyes follow the seam that runs down the cleft of your ass, the way the pockets stretch over your backside has his fingers twitching, thinking about how well you will fill his hands, and how the slow rub of denim will burn his skin.
He wants to hook his thumbs into the belt loops and pull you flush against the zipper of his jeans, where his cock is straining against - rub himself on you, grind on you, his thighs plastered to the back of yours -
‘Joel?’
Fuck.
He sways as he snaps out of his stupor, dangerously close to knocking into you, light-headed from the lack of blood to his brain. He chokes out, ‘Yeah, I got you, sweetheart.’
Get it together, you dirty bastard.
He’s careful to leave a couple of inches between his front and your ass when he bends his elbows and ducks so he can peer beneath the desk. His chest pressed flat against your lower back, he can see the bunched fabric of your shirt where it’s caught.
‘Yup, you’re right, your shirt is snagged tight in there.’
‘Can you untangle it?’
‘Think so, but I’ll need both hands.’ He pauses. ‘I’d better get on my back under you.’
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You swear you’re going to black out.
‘Pin?’ he prompts when you’ve been quiet a beat too long.
‘I - um, what do you mean by going under me?’
‘If I’m on my back, I can use both my hands, like a mechanic under a car,’ he explains. ‘If you’re uncomfortable, I can find another way -’
‘No!’ you blurt out, wincing at the desperation in your tone. ‘I mean - whatever is easiest for you. You’re the one doing me a favour here.’
‘Alright,’ he says, placated by your reassurance. ‘On your hands and knees then, sweetheart.’
Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head. Oh, come on. Can he hear himself?
Scraping together your last vestiges of control, you push up on your palms to make space underneath you. You have to consciously lock your elbows - your joints suddenly feel like barely set pudding. 
‘Move as far to your right as possible so I can slide in.’
Shuffling on your hands and knees until you’re pressed up against the band wheel, you hear the brush of fabric on wood - must be his back against the floorboards as he slides in. To say it’s a squeeze is an understatement. His broad shoulders brush the front of your thighs as he inches in, and then, his face appears under yours, head between your hands.
His lips quirk. ‘Hi, sweetheart.’
Your breath hitches at his proximity, your wrists brushing the soft red flannel he’s wearing today. ‘Hi.’
‘You ok?’ he asks.
You’re this close to pouting. What does he think? There’s a telltale stickiness between your legs that you’re frantically trying to push to the back of your mind while you mmhmm noncommittally, hoping that he doesn’t smell your want in the tiny, claustrophobic space you’re now both caught in.
You can only assume that he’s none the wiser, since the next thing that comes of his mouth is - 
‘Climb on top of me so I can slide in closer to the band wheel.’
Someone might as well say your last rites. This is the end.
You’re taken aback when your limbs start to move on autopilot, because your faculties have well and truly abandoned ship. One trembling leg attempts to swing itself over the solid breadth of his body, but it wobbles like jelly, and your knee ends up connecting firmly with his stomach instead of landing clear on his other side.
At his grunted oomph, you panic and bang your head on the underside of the table again, which sends your whole weight sprawling onto his front with a yelp.
Joel cradles the back of your scalp with one hand. ‘Shit, you ok, sweetheart?’
The seams of your lashes sting, your head smarting with the impact, and you blink drily as your gaze focuses on Joel under you. He’s so close that you can see flecks of gold in his brown eyes, his breath hitting your face in warm puffs. Your glance at his lips, and with that one little motion, all goes quiet.
He watches you back, neither of you breathing, and in the stillness you realise that you’re fully straddling him, your palms pressing into the hard floor on either side of his ears. Your tits are crushed up against his ribs, his soft tummy warmly cushioned under you. Lower still, where your hips are nestled into the spread of his thick thighs, something stiff and long and insistent presses into you -
Your jaw goes slack when it dawns on you. 
Oh god.
He’s hard.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Joel breaks the silence, a pained frown on his brow as he shakes his head. ‘This is embarrassin’. Couldn’t fuckin’ help it, seein’ you in those jeans -’
Tongue-tied, you can only stare at him, wishing you were brave enough to say something. Tell him that you pulled extra shifts to buy this particular pair of jeans, knowing that they flatter your figure. That you’ve worn them almost every day these two weeks, hoping that he’d swing by again. 
But you can’t. 
So you pray that he can see what you can’t say by the way you’re looking at him, by the way your heart races wildly in your ribcage against his chest.
His voice cracks. ‘I understand if you want me to go -’
You unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth and cut in, ‘Don’t.’
His warm eyes widen, something like hopefulness in the way he looks up at you. ‘You don’t want me to go?’
You press your body closer into his, filling in the gaps. ‘No. Please don’t, Joel.’
He leans forward, so close that you can feel the phantom burn of his silvered beard, his palms finding the meat of your legs, blunt nails biting into the denim.
He really should be ashamed of himself, at the way his cock pulses unabashedly, nudged right between your thighs as you stare down at him, lips parted. He’s hard enough that he worries if there’s a wet spot of precum on the front of his jeans - he can feel himself leaking through his boxers. 
The wicked tip of your tongue traces a wet trail on your bottom lip, and he almost chokes on a half-buried groan deep in his chest. He knows that you don’t even know you’re doing it - and in turn, what that does to him.
It would be easy to close the two-inch gap between you. To kiss you, taste you, lick into your sweet mouth. All he needs to do is to cup the back of your head and pull you down, or crane his neck and press his lips to yours -
And Joel is someone who always follows the path of least resistance. 
But - he wants to do right by you. He knows you deserve more than a quick fumble under a table.
Sucking in a shaky breath, Joel steels himself and brushes a chaste thumb over your cheekbone. ‘Let’s get you out of here, and then we can talk, ok?’
It’s almost perverse the way his chest warms at the flicker of disappointment in your eyes as you give a reluctant nod, ‘Ok. Please be careful, the Singer’s really delicate.’
It’s hard to focus - his attention keeps drifting to how snugly you fit into his chest, between his arms, and it’s not a stretch to imagine a soft mattress underneath his back. It's funny how quickly his body has adjusted to creature comforts after months of sleeping on the cold winter ground.
Joel’s mindful that an antique sewing machine will be a pain in the ass to repair without the requisite parts, so he moves carefully, gently coaxing the band wheel back and forth to see how he can extract you. It doesn’t take long to loosen the grip of the metal teeth on your shirt, but he has to reach up and untangle the threads snagged into the mechanisms one by one.
He muses idly that this is not his method. These hands of his, with crooked knuckles that never healed right, where many a dagger, knife, gun, rifle have found a home - they break things, people.
When was the last time someone asked gentleness of him? 
He wants to scoff. That’s not what he’s good for.
Despite himself, his throat rumbles with a hum of satisfaction when the band wheel finally lets go of your shirt, the Singer whirring to life as it spins freely. He gives you a lopsided smile. ‘There you go, sweetheart.’
You smile, but don’t seem to be in a hurry to move, which pleases him. He likes looking at you from this angle, relishing in your weight on him. He takes his time running his eyes over your face, his palms coming to rest on your knees.
You duck your head prettily. ‘Thank you, Joel.'
He gives you a playful shrug. ‘Well, I owed you one for these jeans.’
You roll your eyes in good humour. ‘Actually, I told you specifically that you didn’t.’
Joel basks in the lighthearted turn in the conversation, egging you on, ‘Well, in that case, you owe me one for this instead.’
‘That’s hardly fair -’ you chide him, punching him in the shoulder in a half-hearted rebuke.
Taking the opportunity, he grabs you by the wrist, the contact prompting a bodily shudder from you that he doesn’t miss. He smirks, ‘M’fraid I don’t play fair, sweetheart.’
You glare at him in mock sternness, bold enough to demand, ‘Fine - what do you want then, Joel Miller?’
For a split second, he hesitates, woefully out of practice at whatever it is that he’s about to do. Swallowing his self-doubt, he asks, ‘Tommy and Maria are throwing a baby shower on Sunday at their house - do you want to come?’
Your shoulders stiffen. Now, that you were not expecting. Your social anxiety bubbles between your ribs and looms over you like a spector. You sputter, ‘Um, I -’
You start when his fingers draw soothing circles on the top of your knees, as if seeing straight through the source of your apprehension. He reassures you, ‘Lucy is welcome to join too. The more the merrier.’
Your eyes soften. ‘Ok. I’d love to.’
The endearing way the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles has you swaying towards him, his nose just brushing the side of yours - when the doorbell rings, cutting through the loaded silence. 
In your haste to sit up, you knock your head against the table for a third time. 
‘Ow!’ you cry. Even Joel flinches at the hard hit.
Lucy calls out, sounding dangerously close. ‘Pin? You ok, hon?’
‘Shit!’ You start scrambling backwards, bent over awkwardly, convinced that you’re one more blow away from a concussion. You’ve barely scrambled onto your feet when Lucy steps into the workshop, the world tilting on its axis for a moment as blood rushes to your brain. 
She watches in amusement as Joel drags himself from under the sewing station, head cocked to one side. ‘Hi again, stranger. You really like our shop, don’t you?’
His shirt is rumpled from where you sat on him, bits of his curls sticking up. He rubs the back of his neck, as if caught with his hand in the cookie jar. ‘I just swung by to, uh, invite you and Pin to the baby shower. Tommy and Maria’s. This Sunday.’
Lucy crosses her arms, arching an eyebrow. ‘And it’s a tradition where you’re from to talk about weekend plans under a table?’
You narrow your eyes at her. ‘Luce -’
She winks. ‘You know what? I don’t need to know the gory details - but I’m in. See you Sunday, Miller!’
Joel huffs a chuckle as Lucy disappears into the front of the shop, leaving you two alone. You smile, suddenly shy for no reason, twining your fingers to stop from fidgeting. ‘Thanks again, Joel.’
He shrugs it off, a touch of boldness in the way he stands, hands in pockets, hips cocked. ‘Pleasure was all mine, sweetheart.’
Instead of heading in the direction of the door, he takes two long strides towards you, leaning down to murmur in your ear, ‘Wear those jeans for me again on Sunday?’
Stunned, you gape at him as he turns with a crooked grin and walks off, dispatching a two-fingered salute at Lucy as he goes. Pausing by the threshold, Joel gives you one last wink that has your breath stuttering - but you only allow yourself to sag against the wall when the door closes behind him, your knees giving.
Lucy wastes no time skipping back into the workshop, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement. ‘Alright, time to raid the party clothes rack, girl!’
You laugh - Sunday can’t come fast enough.
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Notes: I had the best time writing this chapter - it was fun to flip the tables on Pin, not that Joel comes out completely unscathed!
I definitely have ✨ideas✨ for these two, but I'm enjoying keeping things loose, so I have no plans to turn this into a full-blown series just yet. I hope you enjoyed this instalment, comments/reblogs/asks are so so appreciated as always ❤️
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