contains: detailed descriptions of how the arcane women (jinx, vi, cait, sevika, mel) would comfort/understand you, for causes such as anxiety and depression.
reminders: english isn’t my first language. men and minors dni.
𝓗 : behold! anxiety attacks! depressive episodes! come inside, shield yourself with the love of non existent women! it’s horrid out there.
Jinx.
،،̲. Jinx cannot by any means be considered an emotionally available individual, although being very emotional intelligent. Out of all the Arcane Women, Jinx is probably the one who comprehends emotions best than any other. She herself has panic attacks and depressive episodes.
،،̲. She will attempt, in her own way, to comfort you whenever she notices you being off; especially if your episodes are chronic, with time she’ll grow to be more and more gentle (as much as the menace she is can allow, that is).
،،̲. The chaos this girl is will sit on your lap, or seek for any physical contact, and shake your shoulders mildly. “Hey. You’re being weird again.”
،،̲. Then, more softly, “It’s just... Bad thoughts. I get those too sometimes.” She will lower her voice, as if absorbing your inner troubles, and get beside you. Going with her head on your shoulder.
،،̲. A silent, and a bit timid too, way of letting you know she’s there. And she won’t go away unless you tell her to. Jinx is the most empathetic of all.
Vi.
،،̲. When situations like these occurs, I feel like she’d have such a big sister vibe. A leftover of her past with Pow, that made her the “speech giver”.
،،̲. She’s the best at comforting through words, and would not hesitate to shake off your irrational fears with objectivity and a security you so much need in the moment.
،،̲. When she first sees you being clearly anxious, or depressed, she won't ask you what’s wrong or dart you with questions that could only utterly agitate you.
،،̲. She’ll sit beside you, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer, resting her cheek on your head and stay so for awhile, hoping it will be enough to calm you down.
،،̲. Only after you did calm down, she’ll slide a question or two. “Did something happen?” Or “What is going on inside your big brain, mh?” ruffling your hair, throwing a harmless joke in hope to gift you a smile, and then beginning her monologues on how your feelings are valid, but your brain has no reason for making you feel that way. She’ll just... Bring back reason to you. Patiently, kindly.
Caitlyn.
،،̲. Caitlyn is probably the most “awkward”, for lack of better words, at comforting someone. Even if she loves you with every fiber of her being, she’s the type of person who would be completely lost in front of your teary eyes.
،،̲. Having grown emotionally neglected, she isn’t experienced with confronting one’s emotion, indeed she’ll be almost scared of touching you even. She’ll keep physically distant, trying to have you open up instead.
،،̲. But, most of the times, it will result more like an interrogation than an actual comforting. It’s like she needs to find a culprit, the cause that made you feel that way so that she can take care of it as soon as possible. In her mind, it will solve your sorrow.
،،̲. She’s pragmatic, careful. She wants to give you a concrete solution to an abstract issue— even if you just need a hug, or a kiss.
،،̲. And do not get me wrong. She will kiss you and hug and pamper you all you want, after you voice your requests... But she still wants to comprehend if the issue can be physically resolved.
Sevika.
،،̲. I feel like there’s people who believe she would be the most “awkward” one at comforting, but I disagree.
،،̲. Sevika is a grown woman, the oldest of this list, and she’s shown multiple times in the show that she is an emotional aware person (ex: her “father-daughter” discourse to Silco in S1)... Though she’s also tremendously emotionally unavailable.
،،̲. This woman isn’t stranger to depression, nor anxiety. Nobody who grew up in the Lanes is, and she knows how you’re feeling. She isn’t much of a speech giver, or a hugger, or a “practical problem solver”. Sevika is... Calm. Collected. A paradox to the burst of rage she usually is.
،،̲. Unusually, undoubtedly, unbearably calm. She stares at you with void eyes, a neutral expression that hides a hint of sourness and sorry she doesn’t want to show. She’ll slide a glass of water toward your direction, waiting, hoping, for you to return to normal.
،،̲. Yet you rarely do. That’s when she sighs and goes to your side. Her hand goes to stroke your back. She struggles. “It’s... Okay. It is.” Being so serious results like an incredibly challenging task to her. But she’ll keep trying, if you need.
Mel.
،،̲. Mel is the only one of the list who knows what to do almost perfectly. She is comfortable with emotions, difficult conversations, anything that might seem like a challenge for many, she digs it.
،،̲. She views your need for help, and your request to be comforted by her, as a honor she makes dear to her heart; following your flow effortlessly.
،،̲. If you want physical contact, she’ll give it to you however you prefer. If you’d rather just vent, she’ll listen, and won’t interrupt until you’re done talking. Then, if you want an opinion from her – and you always do – she will share her takes with grace and politeness.
،،̲. Honestly, sometimes she could even sound like a professional therapist. Her talent with words is immaculate, she’ll tell you what you need to hear most as if reading you like an open book.
،،̲. It is scary almost. Is her perfection a natural talent, or a mastering of what she’s wished to have for her younger self?
i am currently in the process of re-writing the second chapter of healer after starting my re-watch of bes because i want the story to be as decent as i can make it but guess who is stuck on a key moment
i wanna cry so bad bruh i’m just 2 eps away from finishing the show i need my fuel to work before the hyper fixation dries down and i do not feel motivated to write for another 6 months
also if mizu ends up with someone romantically on the incoming second season i will be so devastated i will not be held responsible for my actions
contains: y/n usage. l/n usage. e/c (= eye color) usage. reader’s pov. alternative modern universe. popular!shimizu x loser!reader. high school life. teen drama. lots of angst. reader being jealous, insecure and viewing yachi as a “threat”. characters are meant to be 17/18 yo (there will be lemon/adult jokes in future chapters! keep that in mind if it makes you uncomfortable). reader calling kiyoko “kyo”. hinata shoyo is reader’s friend.
summary: your talk with shimizu seems to have awoken something in the both of you; on your part, the realization that trying was useless. on hers... you’re not sure. her behavior is odd, wanting your attention yet showing a part of herself you’ve never seen before. that you hate. so much.
wc: 3038.
reminders: english isn’t my first language. men and minors dni.
𝓗 : chapter one flopped so hard buT I DO NOT CARE, TOXIC HIGH SCHOOL LIFE YURI SHALL LIVEEEEEEE
“Wow, since when do you have a free minute to do that?”
A derisive laughter succeeded your withering statement, hiding your fists into the pockets of your navy uniform, to not show their slight quivering.
“Especially to talk to me.” Adding more salt to your already sour words, you exaggerate your shocked expression, your eyes darting hers with aggression.
Adrenaline pumped your blood, coloring your already rosy cheeks of a darker shade of red. Did you really want to have that conversation there, in that corridor, where anyone could pass by?
Another rational question tossed away, in the far corners of your now shut off reason, by the pulsating anger that threaten to make you say things you’d regret later on.
She doesn’t look away from your disdainful gaze though. She holds still in her spot, her lips closed, taking your accusations with apparent composure and an unbearable silence, that pisses you off even more.
That’s it?
Clenching your jaw, you spit one last sentence.
“Was lovely hearing from you, after all these weeks.” Continuing to leer at her, you let the venom run freely in your tone, before turning your back.
Struggling not to show how much your body was actually shaking, your feet begin to drag yourself far from her, your hands going to grasp the bag’s strap, tightening the grip so much your knuckles turn completely white.
As you do, you fight the stringent urge to look behind your shoulders.
Is she still there? your inner voice questioned, causing every inch of your being to itch in the desperate desire to verify.
However, you force yourself to resist.
Nobody, not even you, fully knows how hard you wished she would chase you, crying your name and her sorries for you to accept; how badly you wanted to hear her say that simple “forgive me” that would’ve made you fall on your knees instantly.
And after walking for two good minutes, reaching the entrance of the school, you had your confirmation.
Kiyoko didn’t follow you.
You double checked the stairs several times to see if you’d catch her frame descending them, but it never happened.
Not even after waiting for another minute, awkwardly standing still between walking students that went in and out of the building.
She really let you go.
Shame painted your face like a pierrot, swelling your eyes of warm tear drops you blearily watched fall on the floor, your gaze locked on the tip of your shoes, in hope your hair will somehow cover that sight to stranger eyes.
Though being seen was the last one of your worries.
It’s a silent cry, a mewl. It wasn’t like the last one, when you were able to soundly sob against the soft pillows of your bed.
Still, it hurt the exact same. It burnt your throat and your shiners, weaking your limbs and numbing your mind.
With the little strength your legs still owned, you descended the big, cemented steps that leaded to the yard.
The February sun welcomes you like a caress, kissing your cold fingertips and bringing warmth to the ends of your body. It’s the only comfort you get.
Better than none, nonetheless.
Keeping your weeping eyes firmly on the ground, you blindly bump your shoulders against several students as you head towards the gate signing the exit of the public Karasuno High School.
Lunch break was over, literature class had just started. Then two hours of PE.
Then your undeserved detention with your chemistry partner.
You knew what was gonna come as consequence for skipping. Calls from the office, more punitive hours. Perhaps, your grades would suffer too. It didn’t matter.
The moment your foot exits the property, you turn left and begin your trudge toward home, letting your face lifts up a couple inches just for the sake of being able to properly watch your surroundings and not trip onto or against somebody.
You keep crying. You could do that there, without fearing one’s judgement, the street was pleasingly empty, left for you and you only.
،،̲. Time skip.
Around fifteen minutes later, you’re rolling the keys into the door lock, opening the space that, to your contentment, was empty.
Your mother was at work and wasn’t gonna be back at least until 4 o’clock.
Your tears dried down during your walk, leaving sticky strings on both your cheeks. Your breathing went back to normal, and your trembling too.
Those fiftteen minutes really did God’s work in cooling you off.
Finally, you toss your bag in the corner next the entrace after fishing your phone and earbuds out of it, letting out the deepest sigh to fly out of your mouth.
You enter the kitchen, pouring yourself some water in a glass and shoving it down your throat so fast you choke on your own saliva before dropping your weight on one of the chairs around the table, your fingertips going to massage your sore temples.
You stay so for a good while.
Your phone vibrating on the wooden surface of the table is the only thing snapping you out of your trance, sometime later.
You double tap its screen to check out what the notification was about; rolling down the bar, you see a text from Hitoka.
(2:03 PM) Yachi Hitoka: Hey, where have u gone? Class has started and you’re nowhere to be found, the teacher was informed you were present this morning and she wants to call home.
A grimace draws over your face. You forgot you and her shared literature classes, and that text was definitely not something you were looking forward to receive.
For a good second, you ponder whether to reply or not, staring at the screen until it turns off.
Just as you got up from your seat, deciding to ignore it, you heard the landline ring.
“Well, that sure was fast.” You thought, not helping the slight rolling of your eyes, the sound worsening your headache.
Needless to say you didn’t pick up.
Instead, like all the times you wanted to escape a bad event or feeling, you went to lay down, seeking comfort in your dreams... Only to be disappointed.
You woke up six hours later, after a dreamless slumber, feeling as exhausted and awful as before.
،،̲. Time skip.
The next day, you were once again in front of the school.
Your mother hadn’t really noticed you got home earlier, as you were always the one coming home before her on the daily.
Noticing, though, you didn’t leave your bed all day, she asked you a couple how are yous, what’s wrongs and the typical questions one receives when acting oddly.
Yet you didn’t really give her a clear answer.
She knew nothing about the situation, and you intended to keep it that way. As much as you loved her, you weren’t one to seek comfort from your parental figures.
To be honest, you never seeked comfort from anyone.
Well... Aside her.
You still had to fully process the fact that your main source of reassurance had become your main source of distress.
Your gaze raises up, eyeing the building with inexpressiveness.
Was it really necessary of your brain to give you those thoughts that early in the morning? You sighed, the leftover of yesterday’s feeling lingering inside your guts.
“Damn, I know school sucks but to have such glumness for it is a lil’ too much, don’t ya think?” A male voice spoke behind your shoulders, a pair of hands going to mildly push you into the yard.
Before you can turn around, ready to snap at whoever the moron was, the person jumps in front of you.
“Moorning.” Shoyo’s radiant smile is just a couple inches away from you.
“What’s with the long face, huh?” He asks, going with his hands to cup your cheeks. On a reflex, you take a step back.
And when you try to form a thought, he goes with his thumbs to pull the corners of your lips into a smile. “There! Much better.”
His genuine titter made the muscles on your face loose immediately, soon enough causing the fake smile he made you to become sincere.
“Hi, Hinata.” You chuckled.
“Wanna walk together to class? Been awhile since we spent some time together.” He confesses.
Oh, what a dear Shoyo is.
He had no idea how much his cheerfulness had an effect on you. He was the serotonin you were lacking since days. Accepting was the only sensed option.
“I’d love to.” You admit, beginning to head toward the entrace of the building side by side with your freckled friend, as he begun to tell you about every detail of his life;
From his volleyball trainings, his terrible grades, to how much he wanted to beat Kageyama’s ass for skipping school that day.
For the first time in weeks probably, you let out wholehearted laughters at his way of speaking– So unfiltered, hilarious, yet always respectful.
It was always like that with him.
He’d randomly find you and simply make your day better without any effort. He was a natural, and you loved him greatly because of it.
،،̲. Time skip.
Albeit brief, your interaction with Shoyo significantly brightened your mood. The two of you waved goodbye when arriving at the second floor, where he had his English lesson awaiting him.
You, on the other hand, had to take another flight of stairs to reach your science class.
As your foot goes on a step of the stairs, you notice a bunch of students coming down from the upper floor with concerning speed. They were tossing a basket ball to each other, way too harshly, when the object misses the one guy it was aimed at.
It all happened in a fragment.
The ball bounced on the wall, then the step a couple feet away from you. Next thing was gonna be your face.
For a fraction, all you see is the orange of the item.
You squint your eyes in anticipation, your arms going to cushion the impact, that you knew was gonna be fucking painful.
Yet nothing hit you.
You flap your eyelids a couple times.
After realizing you were out of danger, you fully open them, and the moment you do, the last voice you expected to hear started talking.
“You are not allowed to play outside the gymnasium. Put this back immediately or I’ll make sure to suspend the club activity for a week and report you to the teachers.”
Shimizu’s severe tone reverberated through the entire hallway, silencing the boys, who all begun to look anywhere but her.
You stayed unmoving, leaving her back as your only sight, as she stood in front of you, holding the round object against her hip.
Noticing none of the guys said a word, she proceeded to add, rather aggressively;
“Did you hear me or not? Move. Take this and go to your classes.” Her hand grabbed the ball, lifting it toward their direction.
The group stepped down with tails between their legs. Timorously, one of them took the object from the girl’s grasp, still carefully avoiding her severe face.
Shimizu kept her blue eyes glued to the group for entire duration of their walk of shame. It was only once their figures disappeared behind the last corner that you sensed her shifting her attention on you.
That’s when you remember you’ve been there the whole time.
For a long, endless, instant you lock eyes. She doesn’t pull away, neither do you.
Instead, all you can do is go from her right to left eye repeatedly. Has she been there the whole time? Saw you walk in with Shoyo?
Was she staring at you?
Those were just a small portion of the questions that ran through your mind. Of course she was watching you. She couldn’t have reacted so fastly if she wasn’t— You gave yourself the answer to the latter, which was the one you were more interested in.
The mere idea was enough to make you forget how to breathe. You blushed madly.
“Shimizu, Mrs. Saito is looking for ya!” Hollered a student from upstairs. You raise your chin of a couple inches to take a look at whoever the speaking person was, a frown pushing the redness off your cheeks in noticing it was a familiar guy you’ve seen her hang out with in the halls.
Kiyoko gave him a quick nod, dismissing him with her hand.
As she does, you find yourself returning to your senses.
You were being late for class.
And you had no business staying there anyway.
With that, your legs move to walk past the girl’s unmoving figure.
Not even two steps were made that you feel warm fingers wrap around your wrist in a tight squeeze.
“At least thank me.” Her voice speaks right into your ear, a low murmur whispered only for you to hear, minty breath tickling your skin.
God.
“Why should I? I didn’t ask you to do anything.” You growl in response, snatching your hand away from her grip, and struggling, so goddamn hard, to not hide the goosebumps her words just gave you.
Quickly, you sprint forward, ready to jog your way to the class.
... Except she has no intention of letting you.
Her hand goes on your shoulder, roughly pushing your back against the wall, before completely cornering you, going with her other hand to do the same with your other shoulder.
Shock shows vivid on your face at her unexpected strength, taking a moment to realize the position you were put in so embarrassingly easily.
Soon enough, you’re fighting to get her hands off of you, tugging pathetically at her arms and clothes with tight teeth and a face so red and humiliated you felt pathetic.
It must’ve been quite the sight, since it draws an amused smirk on her lips, that she erases almost right away, to begin her short monologue.
“It’s called being polite, L/N. I prevented that ball from hitting you, the least you could do is modestly lower your head and give me your thanks.”
Her fingers dig into your uniform, blue irises peering right into your E/C ones.
Under your humiliated expression, you let out a sour cackle. ““Modestly lower my head”? I am not one of your shitty flunkies, Kiyoko.”
She presses you more against the wall.
“Then what are you?” Her lifted, provocative, eyebrow clenches your jaw painfully.
“To you? I genuinely don’t know that anymore. You should tell me.”
Silence falls between you two.
Maybe she sensed the hidden sadness that bitter sentence held.
Maybe she was thinking about it too, what your friendship became.
Or maybe she had no answer for you.
But you refused to take the latter one in consideration.
“Are you really that upset?” Her grip looses, although her hands remain on you.
“What?” Your jaw drops, watching her looking at you up and down, as if you were some kind of unfunny joke she wasn’t getting.
“I know we haven’t talked much, but are you seriously that upset about it?” She lets out a laugh, blocking her staring at your quivering lips.
No. It wasn’t happening. She wasn’t playing it down.
A tornado of thoughts took space in your brain, leveling your rage up to a dangerous level.
Without thinking twice, you harshly push her away from you with both your palms.
“How can you be this fucking stupid?!” You shout from the bottom of your lungs.
“Are you playing dumb, Kyo? Please tell me you are.”
Once again, your breathing is teetering, frustration voicing your thoughts.
“Tell me you’re fucking joking.” And, once again, your eyes swells up with angry tears.
“Please.”
This time not being sure you were gonna be able to contain them in front of her.
“Calm down.” She warned, throwing a quick glance around the place to make sure nobody was eavesdropping your conversation.
Though it was pretty unrealistic, considering the volume of your speaking.
Is that all she’s thinking about right now? You grit your teeth, feeling the anger beginning to shake your whole body.
“Fuck you, Shimizu.” Your heart pounds within your ribcage, painfully fast.
It wasn’t fair.
Not only that, it also wasn’t possible. She was so much better than that. Never once she dared to minimize your feelings, moreover if they had a good reason to be there in the first place.
That... Wasn’t her.
Not your Shimizu.
Feeling the tears beginning to frame your face, you bump her shoulder, walking away.
Where you were headed, you had no idea.
You just wanted to get the fuck away from her.
“Ah, yes, walk away. Suits you amazingly.” Her voice haunts you, sensing her steps following yours.
“Leave me the fuck alone,” with incredible fatigue, you turn around to pronounce those words.
“You’ve done it until now, what difference does it make for you to keep it that way?” Your wrist goes to clean your running nose.
“Listen. I had to idea it would devastate you this much.” She starts.
Her tone gradually softens at your puffy face. “I’m... Sorry, okay?” She adds, going with her hand to caress her own arm awkwardly.
Yet something’s not right.
It doesn’t feel sincere.
“No, you’re not.” You blurt.
“Do you really expect me to believe you thought I was gonna be okay with you acting like I ceased to exist?”
A sour chuckle leaves your dry lips.
You swallow the knot formed in your throat. “Why?”
Finally, the question you’ve been dying to ask.
And it feels like a weight taken off your shoulders, so relieving it calms your breathing down and stops your tears in the corners of your eyes.
Replacing them with sheepishness, that makes its way within every inch of your being; darkening your entire face to the tip of your ears, shifting your attention to the floor under your feet.
You inhale deeply, babbling your next question lowly.
“What did I do to make you stop wanting me?”
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contains: y/n usage. l/n usage. reader’s pov. alternative modern universe. popular!shimizu x loser!reader. high school life. teen drama. lots of angst. reader being jealous, insecure and viewing yachi as a “threat”. characters are meant to be 17/18 yo (there will be lemon/adult jokes in future chapters! keep that in mind if it makes you uncomfortable). reader calling kiyoko “kyo”.
summary: it’s the last year at the karasuno high school. you only have one friend, who you love very much, the beautiful and smart kiyoko shimizu. you girls have known each other for a couple years now, though shimizu has been acting oddly since the beginning of the school year... which leaves you with many questions.
wc: 3185.
reminders: english isn’t my first language. men and minors dni.
𝓗 : i never thought i would publish this story here, but after reading it again months later... i can’t help but low-key enjoy it. toxic yuri let’s fucking go. also, this is probably going to be the first and last fanfiction i write about kiyoko, i outgrown haikyuu a long time ago.
Kiyoko was such a good friend to you. Always been, since you’ve met her. You two clicked from the start, when you were paired up for a science project during your junior year.
She was everything one could yearn for, an intelligent, determined, yet kind, fragile, and gentle mannered person. Her intentions were always good, her words always wise, never failing to convince, comfort or put someone back in place with elegance and charm.
Her reputation preceded her around school. Everyone knew her, from the freshmens to the seniors.
You lost count of all the times you’d get stuck in a corner, waiting for her to finish her conversation with one of her hundredths acquaintances. It happened on the daily, since day one.
It wasn’t something bad. You knew it. You weren’t envious of her popularity, never was. She was the sun, you were the moon. While everyone knew her name, they had no idea who you were, although being at her costant side.
“Shimizu’s friend.” That’s how they called you.
And you didn’t mind.
Not until you became “one” of Shimizu’s friends.
This year was gonna be your last one in that high school you grew fond of. You managed to make your little friendgroup in there, with the volleyball team you and Kiyoko were the managers of, along another girl named Hitoka Yachi, who quickly became a friend of you and the black haired girl. Mostly hers.
Only, this year, something changed.
As always, she made sure to give a hand where needed. And it happened to be needed to recruit new members of certain clubs, which required her to be constantly out of reach, for some unknown to you reason.
The school year began on late August and you could count on the fingers of one of your hands the times you were able to talk for more than five minutes alone with her.
Not to talk about your outside school evenings. During those five months that had passed, not even a free weekend of hers was dedicated to you.
Instead, you’d often catch her around, both on and off school, with other people... Sometimes familiar faces, others not.
Your gut tightens as you recollect one of those times, where you caught her and Yachi at the school cafeteria, alone, during lunch break.
They didn’t notice you standing still, a couple tables away from them. But you were there.
And it hurt you way more than you were willing to admit.
“Honey, how are you?” speaks your mother, as her head pops up from behind the door of your bedroom.
Licking your dry lips, your clogged nose makes a sound, to give her an idea. “As bad as fifteen minutes ago.” Your nasally voice spoke, going back to breathe through your mouth.
“Aw, love.” Her face softens at the view of your body laying on the bed, a pile of tissues next to you.
“I'll go buy something for you at the nearby drugstore, okay?”
“Please.” You beg, going to sit down.
Your mom gives you a nod, smiling. “Be right back. There’s some honey in the shelf if you wanna get a camomile or a warm drink while I’m gone.” She adds, before closing your door and leaving you be.
As her footsteps vanish in the distance, your mind inevitably goes back to her frame.
You fall back onto the soft pillows, grabbing your phone from your drawer close your bed, laying on your side. Maybe she posted something on her socials.
You spend a good moment watching the screen, without really doing anything.
Why did you turn it on for? To torture yourself, seeing her hang out with other people?
You shake your head, putting the object back in place, deciding it really wasn’t the case to dig yourself further into the depression the whole situation was already giving you.
After a couple minutes, you sigh, frustrated at your poor health. You couldn’t even rest.
With a sigh, you get up from your bed, crumpled pajama and messy bed hair.
“She must been having lunch now.” You mumble to yourself, watching the clock in the hallway that readed 12 PM.
“With one of those chicks from the music, art, or whatever club. Or maybe with those guys from the basketball club. Or maybe with someone else I don’t know.”
You couldn’t help yourself. It was so much mightier than you, as mightier as foolish and babysh and everything you knew she didn’t like nor approve.
You’ve been her friend for years. Why did she seem to prefer everyone’s company over yours so suddenly? What did you do?
What the fuck did you do?
Descending the stairs, you go into the kitchen, opening the fridge in hope to find something appealing to fill your empty stomach with.
But you find the void. A couple eggs and an orange juice is all that’s left. Another sigh leaves your mouth when you close it, a sneeze hurting your lungs the second the cold air of the appliance hits the inside of your nose.
،،̲. Time skip.
You were about to go back to your room, resigned, when the sound of the bell ringing at your right stopped you.
It couldn’t be your mom. It was way too early.
Curious, you go to peek through the peephole to check who it could’ve been.
“Oh, Yachi,” You mumble to yourself, opening the door of a couple inches just to show the side of yourself that wasn’t too battered.
“Y/N?” You hear her ask, tilting her head to take a better look at you.
You cover your mouth with your hand, coughing.
“Hi.” Your voice leaves no doubts to your conditions.
“Can I help you...?” You question, bittersweet. You haven’t really talked to her after what you saw at the school cafeteria.
And she did not either, to be honest.
“Kiyoko sent me to give you these.” She takes several notebooks out of her bag.
“We noticed you haven’t come to school during the past week and we didn’t want you to get behind.” Her lips curve into a shy smile.
Hearing her words and seeing the kind innocence on her face, your heart tightens inside your chest.
How could you dislike someone so sweet?
Yet, you had that sour voice in your head, asking you why wasn’t Kiyoko the one giving you those herself. You two were closer than you and Hitoka.
“Thank you, Yachi.” You return her smile, opening the door further to grab the notebooks she was handing you.
“No problem!” Her smile widened slightly at your reaction. “How are you feeling? You look...” She scratches the back her neck, suddenly bashful.
“I know I look terrible.” You laugh. “Let’s say I had better days.”
“You don’t look terrible at all!” She squeaks.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” Her tones lowers again.
“—Sorry to hear that. I could go take you something if you need, I’m supposed to meet up with Kiyoko at the square later.” She confesses, concern in her syrupy eyes.
Unaware it only made your intestines drop.
“Oh.” You immediately fake a smile, but it’s so obvious she understands your drastic change right away.
“What?” She questions.
“Nothing. Sorry, my headache is killing me.”
The first thing you could think of slips off your mouth, uncaring of how fake it sounded.
Your hand goes to massage your temple to make it more believable, “I think I better go lay down now. Thanks for dropping by. See you.”
You give her one last hasty salute, before closing the door to her face, a bit too vigorously.
A sharp, stinging, painful urge to cry choked your throat, leaving you unmoving in front of the door you just closed.
The strength in your muscles plunge abruptly, making you drop the notebooks on the floor next your feet, your face shifting every second that went by, more and more into a grimace as the tears started forming in your glassy eyes, chest rising and lowering at unsteady pace.
A drop. Then the storm.
You walk upstairs, pulsating temples, throwing your body onto the bed, smashing your face on the pillows and cry, cry like a baby, cry all the built up frustration you have pent up all these months, all these weeks you’ve spent watching your dearest friend pick everyone over you and today.
Today was the last fucking straw.
Why didn’t she like you anymore?
It looped in your head like a broken record, 10 times in a row, as if doing so was gonna magically appear an answer in front of you.
Like it was gonna get your friend back.
You missed her so much.
You wanted her back to yourself.
It went on and on. The tears couldn’t stop, framing your face and wetting your hair, that was now glued to your sticky cheeks.
Until you heard the door of the entrance open.
“Y/N, I’m back!” Your mom shouts from the first floor.
Quickly you jump upright, rubbing your eyes with the fabric of your pj sweater, swallowing your soreful sobs.
Your mother was the last person you wanted to see you like that.
“I’ve bought you some hot chocolate, want me to make it for ya?” She adds, still far away from your room.
You jerk your face up, clearing your throat best you can before speaking.
“No, I’m good! Thank you.” You respond, shouting back.
Your mother didn’t insist. She wasn’t the type, luckily.
And eventually, you managed to calm down, noticing she wasn’t entering your personal space, going for a shower to shake off the mental breakdown you just had.
،،̲. Time skip.
A week passed by. The meds your mom gave you worked, you were finally back to normal, and ready, on that fine monday, to get back to school.
During the week, you made good use of the notebooks Shimizu “gave” you, leaving you, though, in the uncomfortable situation of having to hand them back.
Which meant having to search her up throughout the whole school, to probably find her with someone. Needless to say how much the idea made the blood boil underneath your skin.
After your talk with Hitoka, you really could not be bothered to try anymore. If she no longer wished to be your friend, then you couldn’t do anything about it.
Frankly, you were fed up. You asked her countless times to spend some time with you, only to be met by a “can't, busy.” that, at times, felt like an excuse even.
You loved her. So much.
However, just because you did, it did not mean you were gonna chase her and beg her to stay in your life.
That’s when an idea crossed your mind, the second you realized didn’t want to see her no more.
You didn’t have to hand them back directly to her. You could use Hitoka as a go-between, just like she did.
Although the idea of seeing Hitoka didn’t make you the happiest either, for obvious — yet very childish — motives.
You knew she had done nothing wrong to you, you were deeply and annoyingly aware of how stupid you were acting, of how jealousy was blinding you. Nevertheless, caring was starting to result impossible.
،،̲. Time skip.
“Y/N! You’re back!” A familiar voice made you snap toward the direction it came from, seeing the girl you were just thinking about run toward you into the big school yard.
“Speaking of the devil.” You scoff with bitter irony under your breath, though your annoyance trounces your amusement.
“Hey.” Your strained smile hurts your cheeks.
“Glad to see you’ve gotten better.” Meanwhile, hers look as natural as can be.
“Thank you, I do.” You hold the notebooks tight against your chest, when the thought crosses your mind again.
“Hey, uh,” you begin. “Thanks for these. Helped me a lot. Here.” You lend her the objects.
But as you do, Hitoka’s smile turn sheepish.
“It’s no problem, but... They aren’t mine, remember? They’re Kiyoko’s. You can give them back to her.” She says, bursting your bubble so cutely you almost wanna go back home and call it a day.
“Hah,” you shriek. “But, you see...” struggling to put up a bullshit.
“I can't really do that, I’ve actually got something really important to do today and I don’t think I’ll have the time to look for her. If you could...”
You’re not give time to finish your sentence that the blondie interrupts you.
“Oh! What d’ya gotta do? I can help!” She squeals, making you hate her for a moment for being so nice all the freaking time.
“Something rather personal. Can’t really talk about it. Actually, don’t wanna.” Your façade starts cracking, pretending to be polite in that situation was exhausting you.
“Just— give these back to her for me, okay? Please.” You sigh, your hands going into your pockets, eyes drifting away from hers.
“Oh, uh, okay.” Her smile drops, noticing your change.
“See you around, then?” She tilts her head, her lips fatiguing to form one last smile.
Punching your guts with guilt, like all the times she’d give you that puppy look.
You swallow deeply, your brows softening into a displeased expression.
“Yeah.” you speak lowly after a moment of silence, taking a step back, before watching her turn around with a wave and walk off into the building.
You mentally face palm yourself.
“Really, Y/N?” Scolding yourself, you entered the place as well, after making sure Hitoka was out of sight.
،،̲. Time skip.
The clock reminded you that your class was awaiting you, and you were already late for it. A loud sigh, and you’re going up the stairs to the third floor, where your classroom was.
You had no shared classes with Kiyoko that day, although you happened to see her multiple times in the hallways, to your bad luck.
You had no clue if she waved at you, or simply mouthed a “hi” as you began to veer each time you happened to glimpse her.
And those few times you made eye contact, you’d snap your head in the opposite direction.
Just like the mature girl you were.
“Well, it’s not like she cares anyway.” Your head would tell you, which made it bearable. At least, that is what you tried to convince yourself of.
Making her the villain was the easy option, it was the only way to feel somewhat less shitty about it all.
،،̲. Time skip.
Lunch break signed the last morning class of the day, making students fly out of the classroom unnecessarily loud, leaving you by yourself, your head buried between your hands.
Honestly that day couldn’t get any worse.
First you had math. The teacher returned your corrected papers, finding out that you got the worst score of the entire class. The old man wasn’t even a bad one, which made it worse.
You really fucked up an easy test. It hurt your self-esteem tremendously.
Second, chemistry. You got paired up with someone you’ve never shared a word to for a practical lesson, only to end up causing a mess that got the both of you, after he tried to put the blame on you, in a one hour detention post-classes.
To say you were pissed was an euphemism.
You went to rest your front on the desk’ cold surface, your hands at the back of your head. At least, no one was around. You could finally be gloomy and let your facial expression go into your natural resting face, that today looked anything but friendly.
،،̲. Time skip.
“Y/N?” An oddly familiar voice speaks from several feet afar, making you curse under your breath for always being proven wrong the second you’d think something.
Your head slowly lifts up, met by a pair of blue eyes peering at you worrily from next the entrance.
“Kiyoko?” For a moment, your gaze lightens up.
Then you reality hit you.
Clearing your throat, you look away, going silent.
“Are you okay?” You sense her stepping into the classroom. “I was walking by and saw you here, all alone.”
A coincidence. What else could it be? She certainly wasn’t gonna look purposely for you.
“Mhm.” Giving her a brief nod, you begin to pack your bag under her confused gaze.
Shimizu takes a moment to study you, eyeing carefully your body language, which didn’t leave much space for interpretation.
“Are you sure?” She tilts her head.
“Mmhm.” You emphasize, uncaring whether she might get offended or think whatever of you.
“I’ve heard the teacher tell you off an hour ago.” She approaches you further. The more she does, the quicker you move, as if a fire was coming toward you, instead of a person.
“I gotta go.” Hastily, you toss your bag over your shoulder, turning around to head toward the exit.
“Wait, Y/N—” She calls, confused.
“Bye Kyo.” But you don’t care.
Her eyes widen, silently watching you leave the classroom, lowering the hand she had lifted to reach you.
،،̲. Time skip.
What the hell did just happen.
A knot tightens in your throat as your mind tries to process the conversation, if so could be called, that just happened.
It has been weeks since you last talked to her, since she voluntarily came up to you, coincidence or not—
And you dismissed her like she wasn’t the main reason you were struggling to concentrate on your classes, like you weren’t dying to spend even the briefest time with her.
Like you didn’t miss her like oxygen.
She was your best friend.
Your only, real, friend. The only person you were genuinely comfortable with, that knew you and valued your presence.
What were you doing.
There, in the middle of the hallway, your feet come to a stop. Regret kicks your legs, making them almost shaky, your hands closing into fists.
Your eyes are turning glassy once more, realization smacking your face harshly.
You didn’t want to lose her, that was the last thing you wished for.
You turn around, ready to go back to her and have the discussion that needed to be had between you two since too much time now...
Just to find out you were never left alone.
Shimizu stood still a couple feet away from you.
You let out a frightened gasp, taking a step back. You hadn’t heard her following you. Plus, you certainly wasn’t expecting her to.
“Sorry—” she starts, lifting her hands defensively. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
You manage to blink the tears that had formed in the corners of your eyes away.
Your gaze wanders over her face warily, scared almost, as if you were struggling to recognize her, although having known that person for years.
She does the same, however her gaze isn’t as untrusting and fearful. Contrary, it was hurt.
There was affection in it, eyeing you like you were some wounded cat in a corner.
Which wasn’t too far from the truth.
“Can we talk?” She asks.
You notice her loafer moving closer, but she withdraws it when you make yours get backward as response.
summary: shimizu kiyoko is your one and only friend. you two have been good friends throughout high school, only your senior year has started quite oddly; kiyoko seems to not have time for you anymore, which leaves you rather confused... and hurt. how will you react to such behavior from the person you hold most dear to your heart?
contains: y/n usage. she/her pronouns for mizu. mainly mizu’s pov. dom!reader x sub!mizu. canon universe. mention of injures. a bit of angst. smut (!). fingering (mizu!receiving). biting. (mizu!receiving) mizu being needy for validation.
summary: this is a spin-off of healer. it takes place in a future story line i am yet to reach in the original story.
wc: 1443.
reminders: english isn’t my first language! this post contains smut, men & minors dni.
𝓗 : well hello there. i apologize for my inconsistency, i promise you i’ll finish this goddamn story. as for now, since i’m particularly horny for this girl these days, here’s a little spin off.
Mizu was a quiet soul. She moved like a shadow, blending herself in the crowds of each small city she traveled through; never talking too much, giving slight nods as answers...
Staring, with the corner of her eye, the elegant figures that walked by in and out of the tea houses.
She had the bad habit of staring.
And although silent, her thoughts weren’t. Those were loud and relentless.
The front she built with blood and fatigue couldn’t cease her natural instincts. Acting like an machine didn’t, and won’t ever, make her one.
She had fears, desires. Desires especially.
Born with the rising of her age.
When her first period came, she had already fantasized about kissing you.
And when she trained, in the harsh winter nights, outside of the Sword Father’s modest home, she dreamt of your body in such way she felt shame swallowing herself whole by the mere remembering of it.
Lust was painful.
Like the binding of her chest and the forcing of her low voice and the constant reminders that she wasn’t a man.
How could two women ever be intimate, she wondered with a rage that was starting to seem more like bitter resignation.
Perhaps if she pretended not to be, you’d desire her the same way she did with you.
That simple thought was enough to spark hope within her heart.
So the years passed, your monthly encounters with them, alongside repressed cravings, omissed confessions and the secret of who Mizu really was.
،،̲. Time skip.
The evening of the new moon of the month arrived.
Happiness was supposed to be the main emotion, yet Mizu had an injury, occurred in the dumbest way possible. She felt stupid simply thinking about it.
She wasn’t running from anyone or fighting with someone. She was walking down a forest path, watching the pretty sakura trees absorbed in her own thoughts.
Then her foot hit a rock, and her fall began. She rolled down a couple meters, scratching her whole back with branches and Gods know what else.
Something managed to get stuck between her legs in the process, cutting her pants and her inner thighs’ flesh.
It burnt so bad she had to hold still for awhile after she stopped.
The cuts weren’t deep, though they had stained the navy colored pants all around the area.
It was only half an hour later that she managed to trudge her way toward a small pond that was luckily nearby.
She dropped herself into it without a second thought, hissing with eyes squeezed shut as the cold water made contact with her skin. She let it clean her wound from the dirt before removing her clothes.
“Quick.” she thought with tight teeth.
The sun was now fully gone behind the montains, signaling the samurai your presence would appear any moment now.
“She fucking can’t see me like this—” the desperation colored both her face and her tone rather funnily.
It happened not long ago that Y/N discovered Mizu’s real sex. The samurai’s comfort was supposed to grow after the revelation, yet here she was, jumping around anxiously at the mere thought of you seeing her half naked.
The girl had taken off her pants and part of her top wear, leaving the gauzes as her only garment.
She hissed a few fucks and shits through the pain as she tensed up her muscles to examine the injury further more, bent in herself, when the sudden sound of a chuckle she’d recognized in a million made her freeze completely on the spot.
“See you like what? Butt naked?” your teasing voice sent a shiver down her spine. “Or with your hair down...” you added.
Her eyes squinted upward, finding your figure sat comfortably on the pond’s edge.
And you had that expression.
The one you had last time.
The flashback of last month’s night made her cheeks flush.
Mizu gulped, red until the tip of her ears, with her chest rising and falling way too unevenly.
But before she can say or do anything, your smirk widens.
“Let me check that.” your chin hint the injury between her legs.
Mizu exhales like she’d been holding her breath for hours, hesitantly taking a step back. She laughed nervously, watching you enter into the water like a snake, ready to tempt her into a bite.
And she wants you. She wants you with every fiber of her being.
Way more than you want her.
،،̲. Time skip.
“Hah–”
Mizu’s head laid on your shoulder as her laments left her lips at every thrust you gave inside her.
You move your fingers smoothly, never stopping, continuing your movements up and down, down and up, between her slippery folds. Her liquid drips from her, and when you come out of her to stimulate her clit, you feel it pulse under your touch like a racing heartbeat.
You can’t help but chuckle at the sound of her desperate moans she tries to suffocate, whispering some gibberish into her ear before pressing your sloppy tongue and lips onto her already marked neck.
“Shit,” she hisses with tight teeth, hard nipples and her whole body trembling like a leaf against your chest.
Her calves are having spasms by how tensed they are, her legs spread open for you to keep doing whatever you please with her body, hidden below the water’s surface away from indiscreet gazes.
Not that neither of you would care if anyone saw at this point.
“Mizu...” you nibble the skin below her lobe, feeling her palms grip your wrist. The water splashed lightly around you, keeping your bodies cool.
Mizu never thought she’d feel hot into a freezing water.
“Yes?” she bites her lower lip, fighting the urge to turn around and bend over the edge to have you finger her cunt deeper.
“Bend over.” but you command softly, sliding your hand on her back to mildly push her over the edge, as if reading her thoughts.
She didn’t nod, she mumbled a quiet mhm, struggling very much to hide her excitment, and did as you said.
Clumsily she reached for the edge, placing her elbows on it, before feeling her nape being pushed down, her cheek pressed against the cold stone.
Your hand held her head firmly, while your ring and middle fingers slid back into her. Your fingers felt heavenly, it made her eyes water.
By the time you managed to give her the first orgasm of the night, Mizu was a complete mess.
You devastated her hips and shoulders with bites, strings of hair were glued to her cheeks.
Her eyes pointed blankly into nothingness, as if drunk, mumbling your name so cutely you felt scared of yourself for all the kinds of fucked up things you wished to do to her.
Your surroundings were barely visible. The darkness of the night made it feel both dangerous and safe to have sex in such unusual place.
Mizu even forgot about Ringo. Wherever he was, she couldn’t care less.
Nothing really mattered when her cunt was having spasms after an hour of fingering and biting and you just pleasing her.
She wanted so much more from you. Didn’t matter how embarrassed she felt, how vulnerabile.
The night was not over.
And she needed to have that validation from you. She needed to be complimented, to be told she was good, that you liked her. She craved intimacy and care from you like oxygen.
She needed you.
“Y/N.” she mumbled your name a little louder, the redness on her traits lingering.
You responded pressing a gentle kiss on her shoulder. Your hands, which laid still on her sides, began caressing her again.
“Do you find me attractive?”
The question tipotoed out of her without her realizing it, regretting the second it was being pronounced.
You remained silent for a moment.
It definitely wasn’t something you were expecting to hear.
Especially in that moment.
Especially from her.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
But the answer is easy. It rolls out of your tongue without any effort.
“I want you to be mine.” you can’t help yourself.
It’s like she’s opened a box within yourself. All the things you’ve always thought but never dared to speak out loud.
Maybe because it was too early.
Maybe simply because you were scared.
“Can you be mine?”
Yet you didn’t feel like being vulnerable right now.
Lust is painful.
Like your need to do things you shouldn’t do.
So you turn her around to face you.
And you kiss her once, then twice.
Ready to start again, to make her yours until dawn.
contains: she/her pronouns for mizu. nsfw headcanons about her personal sexual preferences, an odd analysis on mizu’s mommy issues and basically a tutorial on how to turn her on.
reminders: english isn’t my first language! this post is nsfw, read at your own risk! men & minors dni.
𝓗 : i have no idea what’s getting into me but i’m really, no like really, thinking a lot about mizu and i gotta voice these headcanons. also totally random but. fuck mikio. that ugly thang didn’t deserve one inch of her (it’s been 8 months & i’m still mad about it).
،،̲. Okay so. As mentioned in my first headcanons of her, I do think she’s bisexual, with no preferences toward any specific gender as she’s demi so it all depends on the person’s personality/manners/ect.
،،̲. But, sexually Mizu has several preferences.
،،̲. First of all, she’s a switch, bottom leaning.
،،̲. Perhaps a power bottom, depending on the person, and definitely a service top (she secretly has a praise kink and nobody can’t change my mind about that).
،،̲. With women she is incredibly timid. Although knowing exactly how the female body works, what is there to expect and where to put her hands on, women intimidate Mizu much more than men.
Her relationship with the most important female figure in her life has always been complicated, causing a sort of ‘fear’ — well, not fear, just, nervousness? anxiety? — for her to interact with women altogether, not only sexually.
It’s kind of a paradox. She comprehends women more and therefore she’s either more secure with them or is absolutely terrified of them.
،،̲. That’s why it will always have to be you to take the first step (at least during the first months). That being cleared out of the way,
،،̲. Mizu isn’t one who fancies roughness in any shape or form, she’s a vanilla girl who loves being touched softly.
،،̲. She likes getting massaged all over her body, a good way to turn her on would be to simply massage her inner thighs, her hips. Don’t go straight to the point. Foreplay is key.
،،̲. Along with kisses. Nibbles. Sit behind her, stroke her thighs, kiss and nibble her neck and shoulders. Just be gentle.
،،̲. I mean, gentle but not boring. When things get hot and heavy of course she’ll want more than just massages. She does love penetration and she takes it good while laying on her belly.
،،̲. I have no idea if during Edo Japan’s times toys existed for women specifically, I doubt it, so I’m not gonna say anything on the matter—So I hope your fingers are long, this girl can get needy.
،،̲. Meanwhile... As a giver, things change. She may not like being treated roughly, however she does like treating you roughly.
I’m not saying she would literally vent her needs on you but I kind of am.
،،̲. I could totally see her going down on you and digging her nails into your flesh to hold you still against her face, totally ignoring your squirming and actually getting more turned on by it.
type: both sfw & nsfw(!). suggestive. not specified universe. maybe some ooc characters??
contains: literally just my favorite dynamics with each character (jinx, vi, cait, sevika, mel). smut(!) for sevika. 3 examples for each character. it’s not specified but reader is meant to be female of course.
reminders: english isn’t my first language! this post contains smut, read at your own risk! men and minors dni.
𝓗 : very random but i just wanted to share my favorite tropes about each arcane woman i write for because fuck yes? god i love my random ass bursts of motivation.
Jinx · sunshine/hyperactive!jinx x grumpy/serious!reader.
،،̲. Jinx constantly asking “are we there yet?” while going to a place, you huffing an annoyed “no.”
،،̲. Jinx having the habit to pull the corners of your lips into a smile anytime she finds you all serious and assorted deep in thoughts.
،،̲. Jinx exaggerating her fake offended gasps whenever you throw an insult at her unfunny jokes.
Vi · “fuckgirl/player”!extroverted!vi x nerdy!introverted!reader.
،،̲. Violet sitting next to you as she catches you reading, leaning against your shoulder while asking “what are you reading today? lame-o’s sequel?”.
،،̲. Violet mocking your vocabulary whenever you’re arguing, being so good it actually makes you laugh instead of pissing off.
،،̲. Violet being known by everybody, causing you to wait in a corner for her to finish greeting whoever she met anytime you go out together.
Caitlyn · smartass!caitlyn x even!worse!smartass!reader.
،،̲. Caitlyn hitting you with what she thinks is a witty remark but you responding with an even wittier one that makes her go silent, frustrated, and so red.
،،̲. Caitlyn becoming super serious whenever she has an idea, you lifting your brow. “It’s not gonna work. Unless I say it does.” and being right every. damn. time.
،،̲. Caitlyn loving competition and taking any opportunity to create it, secretly hoping you’ll win and put her in her place since it’s such a guilty pleasure of hers.
Sevika (NSFW) · fake!nonchalant!horny!sevika x aware!reader.
،،̲. Sevika suddenly taking the bodyguard’s place at the Last Drop just to have the excuse to hand search your body, lingering on your thighs.
،،̲. You putting on the clothes you caught her staring at you with, her playing it off. “The other top suited you more.” she mutters while her pussy literally throbs in her pants.
،،̲. Sevika maintaining the straightest face at work while her mind is playing the filthiest fantasies about you, having to go to the bathroom at least twice an hour.
Mel · bossy!councilor!mel x simp!personal!assistant!reader.
،،̲. Mel casually requesting your presence whenever she has to go lingerie shopping, or to the spa, wanting an ‘external opinion’ from you.
،،̲. Mel asking “how does it look?” as she turns around to show her incredibly revealing dresses with a knowing smirk.
،،̲. Mel sending a matching outfit to your chamber, which she commanded to be next your own due to commodity of course, anytime an important event is around the corner.
type: sfw. very mildly suggestive. canon universe based.
contains: she/her pronouns for mizu. general headcanons about her appearance, sexuality, mbti, ect.
reminders: english isn’t my first language!
𝓗 : i wanted to write these headcanons – which are a mix of actual headcanons & canon infos – as a profile for my interpretation of mizu, the one i’ll mainly use in my fanfictions. of course it’s not a limitation, as of right now i’m writing the series “healer” hence these might be slightly influenced by the story, but it’ll shift based on future story plots.
،،̲. Mizu is around 22-25 years old in the events that take place on the show. Her birthday is on November 4th.
،،̲. She’s 5’9” (175cm) tall.
،،̲. Her body is extremely pale, with a cold undertone that make her purplish veins well visible. When she’s cold, her lips and nails turn of the same color.
،،̲. Her torso is full of scars due to her binding too tightly her chest.
،،̲. Her foot size is 6.5 (us size) 39 (eu size).
،،̲. She’s bisexual and demiromantic. Could only fall in love after creating a strong connection with the other person, which must take years. Her trust needs to be built brick by brick.
But a hint of lust lures in the corner. If she’s attracted, she might unconsciously provoke or even flirt.
،،̲. Personality wise, Mizu is as assertive as one can be. She’s calm, composed, calculated and, at times, a manipulator too. She stands her ground in low tones, growling, never barking.
،،̲. She’s a control maniac who wants things done her way only. Might actually have a sort of OCD. She’s really all about control, like, she genuinely freaks out when a situation doesn’t feel controllable.
And she bites hard when necessary.
،،̲. I feel like her MBTI would definitely be either ISTP, pragmatic, present-oriented, and totally insufferable to have around at times.
،،̲. Definitely not a people person, an introvert 100%. She enjoys company, but finds rest in being by herself.
Not shy. Not anxious. If she doesn’t talk, it’s because she has no interest in doing so.
،،̲. She’s a night owl who struggles to sleep lots of the times.
،،̲. Her hand writing is small and clean.
،،̲. Hates tight fitting clothes. She feels like she’s constantly being smothered by them.
contains: y/n usage. n/n usage (= nickname). reader’s pov. canon universe, following the events of s1’s first act (ep 1 precisely). both reader and vi being -18. comfort. sweet kisses. kind of angsty ending.
summary: y/n and vi share the same past, two orphans who lost their parents in the revolt organized by vander and silco. when they found themselves living under vander’s wing, vi picked an interest on you, a very mutual one turns out.
wc: 3698.
reminders: english isn’t my first language! this story portrays teens, no inappropriate comments allowed.
𝓗 : rewatching arcane on the second season’s anniversary (even though i’m late lol) has me in tears. i know i’m not the only one who imagines how the menace vi was would be with her first love and i’d like to give my first contribute to the arcane fandom with this little fluff oneshot. alright, i’ll stop re reading it before i end up hating it and hand it to you girls instead!
Zaun was called many names. The “Undercity” and the “Lanes” were the most common by the locals, still the Piltovians had less manners with the attributes.
One time, a fisherman called it the “darkest slum”.
He had just filled the boat with the daily catch and was chatting with one of his colleagues at the edge of the bridge at the entrance before Zaun, unaware that a little girl, bare feet and torn clothes, had just stolen a couple crabs from one of the baskets inches from him.
“Because the sun doesn’t reach down there. It refuses to.” was the reason of the chosen title. It was so unexpected, so cruel, it astounded the girl terribly.
She wondered if it was true.
She never cared to take much of a look at the sky, but that afternoon, on her way back home, her chin kept high, holding close to her chest the goods that would be her meal.
And... It was correct. The man was right, the sky shifted colors. From a clear azure, it became navy the deeper she descended in the city.
It was the first time she heard such disdain toward the place she was child of. Little did she know it was only the beginning.
“Eh, are you sleeping over there?”
Vander’s hand goes resting on your shoulder, shaking you out of your memory and back into the livings world.
“Huh?” with a jolt, you almost drop the glass held in your left hand.
A small laugh leaves the man’s lips, squeezing your shoulder just a bit. “I was asking if you could pass me that glass. Though you seemed immersed in your thoughts.” with that, his smile gets a little wider at your shocked face.
“I wonder what is it that you were thinking about so intently. Or who.” he softly takes the object from your hold and goes to pour in it a golden-ish colored liquor.
You know what he’s trying to tease you about. For once he’s mistaken.
Though you choose to play along anyhow.
“Ha-ha.” the corners of your mouth copy his. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” you give a hint of playfulness, pushing the unpleasant recollection back in the peripheries of your mind.
The man threw a knowing glance your way.
“Oh, well.” he said, going to a bring the early poured glass to a table among the crowd, where a regular, who you faintly remembered the name of, Huck, and two other individuals you’ve never seen before were dealing apparent business. It didn’t seem to be going too well, you thought, watching curiously the scene.
That little girl had grown a lot since the day she noticed Zaun’s constant nightly state. Many events succeeded that realization.
Like the one that brought her to where she was today, the loss of her mother during the uprising organized several years ago.
Hah. Uprising. More like bloodshed.
Perhaps that’s the reason why Vander decided to took you in.
Did he feel guilty, like he did for Felicia and Connol? A question never dared to be asked.
At least, the disdain felt by the topsiders she now possessed it too. Was only a matter of time for it to become mutual, after all.
Now Y/N was almost 15. She had decent clothes, a pair of shoes, friends.
... Friends.
The girl silently spaces out, lowering her gaze to the counter her hands are laying on.
Vi, Mylo, Claggor and Pow had been gone since early in the morning. You were conscious the job was big, they spent a week setting it up, getting ready, after Little Man told them about the rich weirdo who came at Benzo’s shop.
And you know they’re not stupid, yet you can’t help but worry. About Powder, specially. It was unusual of her to take part in these operations, even less when important.
It was already 6 o’clock. Sun was getting down and a couple voices began spreading around like a spider web.
An explosion of an important House’ building, four young thieves clearly from the Undercity. Lots of enforcers.
It wasn’t sounding good at all.
Vander questioned you a couple times, though you met him with silence, a culpable face that spoke volumes on your knowledge of the matter.
“If they’re not gonna be back by 7, I...” your thoughts rushed, until the sound of the entrance being swung open abruptly interrupted them.
Your eyes whipped upwards. It’s them...!
… All with their heads down, shame weighting painfully obviously on their shoulders. Despite distant, you could swear you saw a shiner on Claggor. Moreover the bag appeared empty.
You sought for one to return your stare, however none lifted their face. Instead, they quietly descended into the lower room without a word or wave.
Preoccupation colored your traits, suddenly switching attention to the table Vander headed a couple minutes ago, finding the man gazing at the direction the group walked to just like you. Evidently sensing you watching, his eyes diverted to you.
Both of you shared the same concerned expression.
He gave a small nod and mouthed a go, I’ll be there in a sec., which was all you needed to leave the space and run downstairs.
،،̲ Time skip.
What followed was to be expected.
Even if you rushed in the room, trying to have them explain to you first whatever happened, Vander wasted no time joining the conversation.
The tension was palpable, exactly as Vi’s humiliation; portrayed on facial lines and a nervously shaking leg.
The dried blood on her knuckles, brow, nostrils told a new story also. Those familiar signs of a fight were drawn on several of her body parts, though the questions for that needed to be delayed, priority given to the old man’s incoming lecture.
Your eyes couldn’t control gluing inevitably on the pink haired girl as he began his monologue.
Her posture, stiff and unnatural, sat uncomfortably on the armchair. Hair messily pulled back. A tight lour.
Just as you observed her, the realization that she hadn’t looked at you once creeped its way within the back of your mind.
Slow at first, deepening as time passed.
Powder timidly smiled at you. Claggor too. Mylo used his usual cheeky “Hey sweets.” to greet you.
Vi… Nothing. She avoided any eye contact, didn’t even deign to say a mere hi. Even now she looked at anywhere but you.
It’s not what she got you used to.
After what happened, the loss of her mother and the choice of Vander to take under his wing another “stray” – as some have called Y/N, and Vi, and Pow, and any orphan inhabiting the neon streets nearby the Last Drop – the girl managed to make more than friends actually.
Vi couldn’t be categorized as friend. Not by Y/N’s heart.
There was never an I love you, or an official request. In the Lanes you can’t just throw such words around.
Love in the Lanes is shown differently.
Fights, attempting to show self worth, a scream to become noticeable. To tell you “I bleed for you”.
Endless jokes, louder when you’re around, because they need to hear that ugly laughter coming straight from your lungs and be the cause of it.
To be lovable in the Lanes you got to be tough. Courageous. Loyal. Strong.
Vi was a character, one who quickly became interested in you. You questioned yourself the reason hundreds of times.
Was it your hair? Your same age? The way you dressed?
She’d never tell you in a million years.
She simply roamed around you night and day, watching you work behind the counter, always finding a way to bait your attention.
Constant teasing. Helping you out with whatever.
With time, viewing her shy-at-first tactics had the desired effect, she grew in confidence and levelled the game up a little bit further.
Touching your hair. Pinching your hips.
Stealing a kiss at the back of the bar outside.
Then two.
Last week, it became three.
Scarlet spread on your cheeks at the recollection.
،،̲ Flashback.
You were taking out the trash, Vi shadowing behind you with the bigger bag in her hand – because she was able to use just one, unlike you – babbling nonstop about your smell.
“So what is it?” she leaned closer, after throwing the garbage into the bin. “It’s like cherry, or strawberry. A sweet fruit.”
You exasperatedly sighed at her guesses. “It’s just a perfume, Vi. Why are you so obsessed with it?”
“You never wear any. I didn’t even know you had…” her voice suddenly trailed off.
You tilted your head in her direction with an inquisitive eyebrow, finding the girl’s expression curved into a frown.
“Did someone gift it to you?”
Hearing that, your brain clicked.
“Are you jealous?”
The grin on your face was so big it hurt your cheeks.
“No. Nobody gifted it to me. Or maybe yes,” a laugh succeeded. “What if someone did? What’d you do about it?”
“Huh.” Vi scoffed, staring wide eyed at your reaction.
It happened in an instant. You were already close the wall.
When she pushed your back completely against it, bringing her face an inch from you, you felt her breath on your upper lip.
“Don’t make fun of me, N/N.”
Her voice lowered, her palms wrapping around your wrists in a hesitant squeeze. You felt it. You felt it all, her chest rising and lowering steadily, her blushed pout. Her shyness coming back, hidden by that false insolence that didn’t suit her at all.
It only made your grin bigger. Your cheeks colored of the same red as hers as you went to shorten the distance entirely by grazing the tip of her nose with your own.
“You’re so pretty when you’re flustered.” your eyes ajar.
The redness reached her ears. Her lips twitched in anticipation.
And when you tilted your head, her eyelids shut, letting you free yourself of her grasp to hug her tightly, welcoming your kiss with goosebumps all over skin. Heart to heart.
A Saturday evening never to be forgotten.
،،̲ End of flashback.
“Everyone out.” Vander’s voice thundered through the room, shaking you out of your memories once more.
You had completely lost in yourself, not paying any attention to the conversation, if so could be called, between Vander and Vi, barely making out the last sentences.
Absentmindedly, your legs moved by themselves, following the three in the corridor and closing the door. Mylo instantly took one of his tools out of nowhere and pressed it on the wooden surface of the door, almost sticking his ear inside of it in order to catch the continuation of what was left hanging.
Claggor, on the other side, must’ve noticed your confusion, hence his approach. “You alright?”
“Yeah.” You dryly replied. The question lingered in your head, not the one Claggor just made you, but the looping why that had you fall into last Saturday’s flashback.
There were a couple things to be cleared. Well, one. A pink one.
،،̲ Time skip.
Powder disappeared.
You noticed immediately, seeing her walk off outside the bar the moment Vander ordered to free the space.
The attention you’ve given Vi this whole time veers to the blue haired girl, the muffled voice of Mylo exclaiming a take a punch or two! when you were about to enter the place prior reverberated in your head.
Has Mylo picked on her again? Claggor didn’t mention anything of the sort, but it wouldn’t be much of a surprise, knowing his personality and history.
When Vander finished his pep talk with Violet, there were only Mylo and Claggor left on the corridor.
Y/N was already gone, in search of wherever the little girl could have decided to isolate this time.
Perhaps her room?
Quietly, your hand goes to push the door slightly open. You peek inside, the faint sound of rock music assuring you the presence you’re looking for is, indeed, present.
“Hey…”
Powder’s face shifts from the small metallic object she’s holding to you.
Her body is upside down in the tiny bed, a couple crayons scattered here and there. She greets you with a head move, sad eyes going back to draw on the metal piece right after.
“How are you?”
The foolish question had the answer written all over her freckled face. You moved closer, resting your shoulder on the bunk bed frame.
But as usual, her reply was kinder than truthful. “Just a bit tired.”
“I bet you are. It’s been a long day.” your expression softens, going to sit next to her. She did have dark circles under her eyes.
Your hand found her cheek, thumb grazing gently back and forth.
Maybe asking her about Mylo was a bad idea. Vi did a better job with the comfort than you. You were best at distracting.
So you did.
The upcoming 10 minutes were filled telling her about your day. Any funny event you could remember, or upgrade about a gossip ongoing with the bar’s regulars.
After awhile, you were finally able to get a cackle from her, soon joining her with more stories.
An adorable scene to Vi, standing on the doorjamb with her arms crossed and a smile that reached her icy eyes.
The girl had come to check up on her little sister, after a brief moment of clarity, per say, with Mylo… However her presence wasn’t needed at all, turns out.
Her pupils dilated in hearing your laughs. No best cure for a bad day, she thought, enjoying the moment from a distance a little longer, when an idea crossed her mind.
She clicked her tongue, proudly nodding to herself, before leaving the place to head who knows where.
Because when Vi has an idea she’ll be hell-bent to accomplish it.
،،̲ Time skip.
Later that night everything returned to normal. More or less.
Vander went out with Claggor at Benzo’s, and you went back to work at the bar, serving beers and cleaning tables.
Powder kept you company most of the time, sat on the other side of the counter, coloring some papers while sipping orange juice, legs dangling from the tall stool.
The hours passed. Slow. Dull.
The clients left one by one around 1 AM.
Y/N mopped the floor, sat the stools atop the tables, turned off the big lights and machines– however nothing could really turn off her rumination about the occurred events. It only got worse when Vi came into the bar to take Powder around an hour ago.
She “needed her little sister for something”, promising to come back to help you with the cleaning after she was done. Weird how she pretended like she hadn’t basically avoided you all day.
A grimace begun spreading on your face.
It’s been two hours.
You often had no idea what was going on inside her head, but… Ditching you like that, too?
You told yourself not to read too much into it, finding possible excuses for her behavior: she was having fun with Powder probably.
… Forgetting about you in the process.
The corners of your mouth contorted. You swallowed, the anguish feeling you’ve discarded all night beginning to creep under your skin.
It hurt way more than you were willing to admit.
A knot formed in your throat, burning your cheeks and giving you glassy eyes. You won’t let yourself go though.
Quietly, you blink the tears away.
Just as you’re about to go grab the garbage to bring outside, deciding to push it all away, the entrance creaks open.
With your wrist you swiftly go to dry your E/C peepers, hoping it would be enough to hide your state at whoever the visitor was.
To your surprise, you see her pink head pop out.
Her face lightens up when she sees you, her body fully enters the place, closing the door behind her shoulders with a thud.
“Ah,” she strolls the place with her gaze. “I’m late, aren’t I?”
“Don’t worry, I got it done anyway.” you tried your best to sound unbothered, to hide the disappointment… Failing miserably.
Violet had grown to know you, to intercept your micro expressions and slight tone changes.
“I’m sorry.”
Desolation colored her face, arching her brows upward.
“I was busy.” taking steps towards your standing self, she shortens the distance between you two, posing her hands on the counter that divided your figures.
Her body bends on it to reach you. You had your visage covered by strands of hair, avoiding her irises to focus on the tip of your shoes.
She’s in front of you, you sense the air shifting as her arm moves in your direction. You understand right away what she’s about to do, keeping still on the spot to allow her that gesture.
“Don’t be mad at me.”
Her fingers slide the hair behind your ear, revealing your rosy cheek. Then, her touch lingers, warm, morbid palm laying on it.
Oh, how you love it when she does that.
A sheepish smile splits your face, leaning, no melting, on her palm bashfully. “I’m not.”
Not anymore, at least.
A chuckle follows, coming from her. “Aren’t you gonna ask me what I was busy doing?” her hand slides down your neck, your shoulder, stopping on your forearm. You miss it already.
Her thumb draws circles on you and you can’t help looking, the butterflies in your stomach dancing wildly. “It’s strange you haven’t already.” another chuckle.
You weren’t sure whether it was for her statement or because of the blatant effect she had on you.
“I was about to.” you mirror her chuckle.
Your response makes her grin proudly. “Come with me, I’ll show you.”
Your eyebrow raises. “Show me?” you question.
“Yeah! Come on.”
،،̲ Time skip.
The roof wasn’t any different than the streets below the building. Debris piled up in the corners, split mesh wires that used to be the only protection from the edges.
The only difference was the view.
From up there, majority of Zaun, the bridge and Piltover were visible.
That night the full moon illuminated each little house inhabiting the Undercity. It colored the river’s surface pearl and reflected on the windows.
At the center of the small space, a round table with two stools caught your sight.
The table was tiny, atop of it two covered plates with glasses, a bottle of a drink you weren’t able to recognize – but that looked a lot like your favorite juice – and a box wrapped in a pink bow.
Violet let go of your arm, walking to the left to grab something from behind an old furniture piece.
When her back turned, she had a bouquet of various colorful flowers in her hands. “I’m sorry about today, we barely talked.”
Her voice softened to a whisper.
“I thought it’d be nice if we ate together alone for once. I’m not the best cook, but you’ll be the judge.” she hands you the flowers, going to the table to reveal the content of the plates: which was none other than your favorite dish.
You silently accept the flowers being offered to you, burying your nose into the petals. Your heart pounded with emotion, beaming stupidly at her like a child during Christmas’ night.
“And I…” she laughs awkwardly reaching, then, for the box. “I asked Pow to make a pretty bow, I wasn’t really able to do it myself— to thank you.” she hurriedly added the last part.
Your eyes keep switching from the box to her face, unable to make a sound, realization tiptoeing its way to you.
“I saw what you did with Pow. It did her really good… Thank you.”
She gulps loudly, playing with the box in her hands, as if too ashamed to hand it to you.
“It’s not much. Don’t think—”
“Vi, give me that box right now.” you’re so delighted you wonder if you’ll start floating around with a red hearted aura around you like in cartoons.
She blushes heavily, pressing her mouth into a thin line. A few more seconds pass, before she finally manages to stretch out her arms.
You don’t take it. You let her hold it, unwrapping the bow with medical cure and removing the lid anxiously.
What you find, is a diamond shaped perfume glass with a cherry charm attached to the button.
“No way.” your grin went from ear to ear. You lift your eyes at her.
“I’m not gonna ask you where you got this.” you add, gaining an amused “Good.” from her.
The time slowed down. Although being late, neither of you cared. You sprayed some of the fragrance on your neck and wrists, before wrapping your arms around her neck merrily, pressing a kiss on her lips.
With that, it was now four. Four kisses shared with her, with the girl Y/N has fallen for long ago.
The fourth of what you hoped would be a billion.
You then proceed to sit down and consume the meals, after a prolonged hug. Another surprise to add to the list was Violet being a great cook— the food, even if slightly colder now, tasted delightful.
The atmosphere around you was light, serene. Chatters filled the air, for once no hard topic was brought up. Instead all you could do was tell each other about yourselves.
It was usually you who had the role of the listener, but not tonight.
Tonight Vi watched you adoringly as you spoke about your interests, your opinions on whatever subject popped out. Her cheek rested on her palm, occasionally brushing your fingers with hers. Laughing at your takes. Spitting compliments, all smiley and so unapologetically, obviously, in love with you.
“I wish Vander would allow us to have a pet. I’d love to have a kitty, or a dog... Or a bunny! They’re so cute.” was one of your sentences that stuck in her head.
She jumped back and forth with it, already giving herself ideas for future gifts to make.
Completely unaware of the storm that awaited her, and the people she loved most, the following day.
But you’re here now, with her. And that’s all that matters.
summary: have you ever wondered how vi would be as your first love? to grow with her, share the exact backgrounds and realize how much you like each other? y/n is another one of vander’s adopted kids, who not only has found her place in the undercity, she’s also found the first person who makes her heart beat... the little rebel, vi.
contains: y/n usage. he/him pronouns for mizu (for now). mizu’s pov. mystical!creature!reader x samurai!mizu. canon universe. mention of injures! angst.
summary: mizu had another one of her ugly days— covered in bruises, she heads by the docks to find “someone” that’s been showing up for awhile now: a sort of angel resembling girl, who, for some reason, shows up during the darkest night of the month to see her.
wc: 2543.
reminders: english isn’t my first language!
𝓗 : discovering blue eye samurai was definitely one of the good surprises of this 2025 for me. gosh, i love this show so much and i cannot wait for season 2 to drop next year. hope you’ll like this, it’s kind of a test since i’ve never really wrote supernatural stuff— but i lowkey really like how this first chapter turned out.
“Agh—”
The young boy, who of a boy had nothing, trudged his way toward the nearest maple tree that inhabited the small wood of the small village he was child of.
A cursed child, doomed since birth, haunted by each soul who caught glimpse of his irises. Which leaded to mocks and beatings.
Hate was never left unspoken or undone.
Like that night, and many before it.
His aching body finds rest at the roots of a tree, purplish bruises spread on his legs, arms, back. In his head, he counts.
1, 2, 3.
An inhale. Then again.
1, 2, 3.
An exhale. Then the cycle restarts.
Mizu convinced himself that counting helped with the pain, finding in it a sort of comforting ritual he would pursue like a prayer. Each time the same, repeating the gesture 10 times. 5 inhales and 5 exhales.
Then, after that, the boy would get up. He checked right and left, then back and forth, tiptoeing his way to the docks with all senses on alert.
His heart was calm. Moonless nights had a certain quietness, they daunted people, locking them within their homes after the sun set. Lack of light was meant to scare humans off.
Not him though. It gave Mizu an odd sense of ease, allowing him to make a sound, or even two— something he dared not to, usually, when walking, breathing, being, on the day light.
Another proof, for his altered mind, that he was no human.
Although it wasn’t just the absence of moonlight and familiar faces that had him feeling almost well.
A presence. With human guise, limbs, face and voice even, same as his and whichever person’s… However no human was able of what the creature was capable of.
He knew behind the façade of what could be disguised as a person was more than Kohama, Japan, and Earth itself, could comprehend.
He saw it with his own eyes.
As soon as he steps bare toes into the freezing November sea, he hears it. The voice he heard many times before.
“Skins can own many colors,” coming from afar into the water, approaching his frame with a cool breeze. “But purple isn’t one of them.”
His favorite part about it all, your arrival.
Mizu closes his eyes, letting the breeze run through his black hair, caressing his face, the only loving touch he ever felt. It felt like a reward, gifted to him for unknown reasons.
“What happened?” the voice was now near, feet ahead of him, eyeing with displeased curiosity the battered skin of the child.
When he lifted his eyelids, he saw it.
Before him was a long, white, dress, iridescent at its ends. Big E/C eyes staring back at his with compassion in them and strings of H/C hair framing her cheeks.
He didn’t respond. Never did, trying instead to grasp every inch of the appearance of who he grew to believe was an angel. His Healer.
Because that’s what you did. On moonless nights, you met the boy by the docks and cured his wounds, lulling his thoughts to slumber.
Why, he had no clue.
You first appeared when his head had just been shaved and gender masked. You kissed his hand and spoke kind words.
That’s all he remembers of your first encounter.
All he remembers after that, is seeking your presence each night, eventually figuring you’d make your visit once every 4 weeks, in the same spot. Right after the last night of waning crescent.
That’s how it all began. He kept count of the days, weeks, on the ground in proximity of a big rock hidden far away from people’s indiscreet gazes, growing eager as time neared.
You never revealed your nature, your name. What you did, was allow him to see you.
Creatures like you shouldn’t do what you chose to do. You were going against any rules and laws of your world, picking a human to interact with.
Too bad you never cared what you must and mustn’t do.
Freedom tasted best when risky.
Indeed, you proceeded.
Your translucent palms travel on the bruises, one by one, erasing them entirely, as if they were never there, your touch as morbid as silk.
“What are you?” Mizu’s question leaves his lips as a whisper, awe coloring his voice.
A question for another day. Another life, perhaps.
Your index fingertip stops at the center of his forehead.
“Goodnight.” kindly, you whisper, sending the boy unconscious under your touch.
He woke up the next day, well-covered within a blanket in his “home”s — Four wooden walls with no furniture, of modest dimensions — floor, with a sense of tranquility he rarely ever owned, the sound of your voice echoing in the corners of his mind.
Wondering if it all happened or was figment of his own imagination.
،،̲ Time skip.
The mission had started long ago, leaving the old swordmaker and Kohama far behind his hat and round glasses. A couple fingers cut and some stolen information, his webbed steps cross the snowy paths across Japan’s rigid towns, seeking names and locations.
The young boy is not so young anymore, not so weak and soft as many might dare to judge. He even gained an “apprentice”, heaven’s sake.
However, as many things changed and shifted to adapt his growth, one didn’t.
The Healer. A decade had passed but the ritual between the two hadn’t ceased.
Mizu went by the docks, or any water place, and called for you— sometimes he needn’t to, you’d appear unsolicited, others he’d simply close his eyes and wait after saying the name out loud.
And each time, you appeared. Like the time before, and the one before that.
After all those years, he became confident you were the only certainty he had in life. His only source of comfort, guiding his way through riddles for his mind to resolve, giving him lessons when unreason and hot temperament blinded the truth.
Wise, although being his own same age. The fact that you, once a child like him, had grew to be an apparent adult, like him again, deepened the sense of intimacy he grew for you.
A mirror. Picturing what he most yearned for, sometimes a friend. Others a mother. Others more, a teacher.
The swordfather was, indeed, a father. But you were no man.
Which made it so easier for him to trust you.
During all those years, your interactions became longer and warmer. As time passed, his shyness faded away, leaving space for curiosity to voice his thoughts. You never giving him answers didn’t stop him from continuing to try, though.
He even started joking around.
That night he followed the river’s sound for hours, hoping it wouldn’t be too late when he’d find it.
“Ah, thank God.” A sigh of relief drops his shoulders, immediately relaxing his body as he notices your familiar figure bent down, running your fingers into the river’s water.
Finally. Found you.
“What?” without looking at him, you smile.
“Nothing.” he says, clearing his throat. He took off his bottom clothes, bare feet and calves immerged into water as he sat at the edge of the river.
“There aren’t any wounds for me to cure tonight as well.”
“No.” Mizu looked down. “Disappointed?” a sarcastic question.
The river was big, endless it seemed as Mizu looked right and left, realizing no ends were visible. And you looked different.
There was something sparkling within your eyes.
“Not at all.” your smile held tight on your lips, so much it made the boy curious– or annoyed. You couldn’t tell.
“What’s so funny?” he asks. Contrary to you, his face looked anything but amused.
At his serious tone, you straighten your position back up. “You.” unwavering, you blurt. “You came here running. Why?”
You could see it in his slim face. His red cheeks and chest still rising and falling swiftly, recovering from his run.
Slowly, his stiffen up body looses up completely. He could do that around you.
“It was late. I just didn’t want you to think I wouldn’t come, that’s all.” his feet moved into the water, the coldness of it bringing comfort to his sore calves. Quietly, he takes off his hat and glasses, sitting them beside him.
“I see.” you fix your gaze on the glasses, not because they’re interesting, rather because you suddenly felt a wave of excitement pounding your heart… Giving you a funny face.
You weren’t supposed to feel that way. Such phrase shouldn’t have that effect on you, you knew better. However it wasn’t the first time you weren’t supposed to be feeling a certain way. Or doing a certain thing.
All your life you’ve been doing stuff you weren’t supposed to do.
“Can I ask you something?” Mizu’s question leaves his lips with hesitation. Neither he does look at you. When you nod, hinting him to proceed, the boy squeezes his eyes mildly as if regretting his words.
“I know you don’t want me to ask about yourself,” defensively, Mizu finds the courage to look back at your standing frame. “And please, don’t go as I dare,” his face a beg. “But, please, just give me a name.”
He swallows. “I-I don’t care if it’s fake. Yeah, give me a fake name if you can’t reveal your real one. Just please.”
It’s been so much time. There were so many whats, whys and hows lingering in his mind since he met you. He told you about his mission, his deepest desires for revenge and the little stuff he knew about his past— carefully avoiding his sex topic.
There was one thing he omitted, though. One he couldn’t talk to you about.
There wasn’t just one mission he desired to accomplish, but two.
Aside from his vengeance, Mizu had given himself the quest to figure out the biggest mystery of his life, none other than his Healer.
Finding out more about you bits by bits, If it would’ve taken his whole life, he didn’t mind.
He just had to try.
For years he deprived himself of any source of happiness or selfish gratifications, fully dedicating his time and focus on his trainings and mastering of the smith’s work. Getting distracted was his biggest fear, finding someone to love and growing attached to was severely out of discussion.
But you. Oh, you.
He just couldn’t resist. Didn’t matter you occupied good part of his daily thinking, not for anything he could’ve renounce you. It was mightier than him.
You make the mistake of returning his stare, finding yourself drowning into his icy blue irises.
No. You can’t, you really can’t.
Your breathing becomes unsteady. You attempt to shake reason back into you, to no avail.
“I… Can’t.” you take a step back, hoping to not hear more. Another please and you might just ruin yourself over.
“No!” as you turn around, Mizu jumps on his feet. “Don’t go!”
And when you feel his warm fingers wrap around your wrist, you freeze completely. Immediately, he withdraws his hand as if he’s just burnt.
It's the first time he’s ever touched you. It’s always you who did.
A breathless “Sorry.” and a couple steps back make you go blank.
“Y/N.”
The wise Healer preaches lots of things: calculation and caution being two of them. Impatience is an invisible enemy, she never once spent good words for it. If only she was as good as taking her own advices as she was to deliver them.
Being skilled with words and displaying a calm front helped many believe she was what she spoken to be. Only her was aware of how abyssal the difference between what she presented herself to be and who she actually was, was.
Everything she critiqued, she owned. Impulsiveness being a perfect example.
His eyes open wide. “W-what?”
“My name is Y/N.”
The presence, creature and all other terms Mizu has ever used to refer to you fall that instant.
It feels so right… So you. That name, that’s who you actually were.
He takes a moment to calm his beating heart down, without being able to get rid of the sheepishness that had colored his pale visage peach. A smile splits his face, so unfiltered and genuine it makes your legs weak.
“I,” he laughs. “I’m Mizu.”
Regret makes its way within your core, dread for the consequences of your unthoughtful action starting to shake your hands.
“Mizu.” you mumble the name to yourself, gaining a shy nod from him.
So, that’s the name of the human you were risking more than you were probably even aware of for.
Sweet.
Like the boy didn’t know his Healer’s name, likewise Healer didn’t know her human’s. That’s how it was supposed to be.
Didn’t matter the already incoherent perpetuated deed of stepping into foreign world’s realm to seek a human, which was forbidden enough that having someone figure out would’ve meant God knows what… You now took it to another level.
He senses your discomfort. Your face didn’t leave much space for interpretations of your thoughts, to be honest.
“I won’t tell anyone.”
His tone attempts to reassure you. “I could’ve said so much already, don’t you think?”
Naïve, fool human. It wasn’t your kind the one to fear.
“I have to go now. The sun is rising.” this time you don’t allow him to rebut. Your body vanishes into the water, leaving him alone and awake behind you.
The samurai’s heart ached, it always did when you’d leave like that. Watching the spot where you were standing just a second ago, he lets out a resigned exhale.
But as he sits down again, about to drown in worry and sadness for your parting, a rustling sound wakes Mizu on alert.
Whipping his head toward the direction of a bush at his right, he finds Ringo peeking at him.
Fear overtakes his preoccupation. How long as he been there? The boy questions himself, struggling to hold a pokerface.
“I can see you, you know?” Mizu’s annoyed tone preeceds a sigh.
“Oh.” Ringo, his… earned, apprentice, clumsily comes out of his hideout. “Sorry, Master.”
“It’s fine.” he murmurs, lowering his gaze to his hands resting atop his lap. When he puts his glasses and hat on, Ringo speaks again.
“It’s almost daylight and you haven’t gotten any sleep.”
“I’ll sleep tonight.” The samurai wore heavy bags under his eyes, a frown on his brows. He didn’t care. He only cared about what just happened with you, and him not making comments reassured him he hadn’t seen anything.
Ringo begun following his Master, walking behind him lumbering.
“Master... Who were you talking to?”
Shit.
Mizu stops abruptly.
The apprentice isn’t given time to realize that he’s being held the shining sword’s blade just an inch from his round nose.
“I’ll say this one last time.” gritting his teeth, the samurai eyes Ringo askance. “Leave. It’s either you leave or you don’t ask me a single question about what you just saw ever again.”
“Got it?” the tip of the blade brushes the boy’s skin, insistent.
A wordless nod and his scared face convince the samurai to place back his weapon into the belt of his pants.
“Don’t make me regret trusting you.”
The last sentence spoken by the samurai, signing the start of the rough journey that awaited the two.
contains: y/n usage. reader’s pov. angst, smut (!) cunnilingus (r!receiving). canon universe. photographer!ellie x f!reader. both ellie and reader being 18+.
summary: ellie and y/n have broken up by some time now, when y/n is met by an invitation to a special party where her “dear” ex will participate at, as official photographer— fun thing is, reader despises el as much as she’s attracted to her. and ellie knows it very well.
wc: 5130.
reminders: english isn’t my first language! this story contains smut, men & minors dni.
𝓗 : hello. this is my first ever fanfiction posted here, and i hope you’re gonna like it. i gotta say the ending feels a bit rushed, i begun working on this story around late april and i only recently gave it an ending, so... that’s the reason. anyhow, enjoy ❤️
The gates behind your shoulders close with a thud, friendly faces greeting you with a nod as you enter Jackson after a morning stroll by yourself.
The summer’s early noon sun burnt your skin, sweaty palms holding your horse’s, Holly, martingale before you mildly pull it to a stop.
As you hop off, you hear a voice calling from the inside of the stable at your left.
“Y/N!” Tommy hollered, as soon as he noticed you.
Whipping your head in his direction at the sudden call of your name, you find the man hurrying towards you with an atypical excitement drawn on his traits.
You can’t help but bite the inside of your cheek, suppressing a sigh. You really didn’t want to talk.
Especially since you already had an idea of what it was gonna be about. And you were not going to like it.
You respond with a lifted eyebrow, hinting him to proceed.
“Joel told you ‘bout the party?” he spoke with utter passion, a grin that went from ear to ear… That goes away the second you shake your head.
“What party?” you inquire, forcing your voice to sound fairly clueless, and especially unbothered. Your guess was right. Yikes.
Joel vaguely mentioned the thing a couple days ago, when you went to him for help regarding a broken photo frame he knew how to fix, but changed subject after your outburst in hearing a certain name– That you had become very sensitive about.
How could you not, after all.
You grab Holly’s martingale and head her towards the stable, Tommy following behind you, continuing.
“Maria’s and me 5th anniversary!” his southern accent slips in, watching you place back Holly and feeding her an apple left on a basket next the entrance, by the same Maria probably. “Oh, how could he forget to tell ya?” he adds a sour mutter, mostly to himself.
You stroke the horse’s mane. “Beats me.” is your flat answer.
Tommy eyes you up and down, scrutinizing you. “You.. Okay? You seem off.”
His tones changes, going suddenly quieter and careful. He sensed your discomfort. You still didn’t understand whether it was because you were terribly evident, or simply because he knew you better than anyone else.
Nonetheless, playing dumb with him was useless. He was inviting you, of course. The matter was,
“Is she gonna be there?”
The question comes out tiptoeing, reluctant yet resigned. The answer was written in his front. You should know better than to ask the obvious.
His adam’s apple bobs, going quiet.
There was no need to say her name, everybody in Jackson knew. Him and Joel being the first ones to.
It was one of the main reasons the “always available” and “sweet” Y/N had turned into a vile presence to have around. It’s been months, however that anguish feeling kept lingering in your guts like a meal you weren’t able to digest.
Sleep deprivation and absent hunger were just two of the issues that woman made you the honor of gifting you.
It was why Tommy, Joel and Maria had became so careful around you. Actually, everyone who cared. Yet, the first one had gotten particularly soft on you.
After a long moment of silence, Tommy clicks his tongue. “Yes.”
You grit your teeth, shifting your gaze away from the man’s.
“But–” inhaling sharply, his hand goes to scratch the back of his neck. Before you can say anything, he continues. “Not as a guest. I asked her to be the official photographer.” a small, nervous, smile curves the corners of his lips upward, perhaps hoping this information would somehow make it look more appealing for you to come.
But you make a face. It only makes sense, considering that’s what she does. Unfortunately, it doesn’t make it any better.
“Please, Y/N.” his kind eyes beg you, “Maria and I would really appreciate it if you came.”
Your furrowed brows soften. How could they not, when the man that’s been the closest thing to a father for you asks you such favor. You were painfully aware of how much it mattered to him.
Which made it ten times harder for you.
“I… I’ll think about it.” your hands go back to take care of the animal, giving him your back as a sign the conversation, at least for you, was over.
“Please.” he insists. “I know it’s been hard for you,”
“Okay!” you cut him off. Hearing another monologue reminding you of how bad you felt, feel, is the last thing you need.
“I’ll come. Just– I gotta do some stuff, okay? Let me be.”
Without thinking twice, you blurt the first excuse that comes to mind. It’s all he needs to understand you’ve had it.
Mouthing what resembled a sort of heedful “sure”, he turns his back, leaving you alone with that voice that spoke in the back of your mind,
“Fuck me.”
What the hell did you just do.
You haven’t seen her since the breakup. Accepting that invitation meant not only you were going to see her, but also that you had to acknowledge her and, fuck no, perhaps speak with her also.
What did you just get yourself into.
،،̲ Time skip
That night came slowly. August’s noons felt endless when nothing was there to be done, leaving you huffing the boredom out of your mouth and trying to find activities to distract your mind with.
It was 9 PM, you had just gotten out of the shower after binge watching Tarantino’s films, when you hear knocks coming from the entrance.
Lazily, you go to check through the peephole who the person behind the door was, finding out none other than Maria had came to visit.
A rush of stress came over you. You never knew with her– one day she’d show up to bring the uttermost gut-wrenching news, while the other she just wanted to bring you homemade lasagna.
Another impatient couple knocks send you opening the door swiftly. Showcasing an unbothered face, you greet the woman with a strained smile.
“Uh, hi.” she smiles, after taking a glimpse of your… Conditions.
Your hair was still wet and you were wearing a wornout, piss color, tee with no pants on. Oh, an a pair of mismatched socks too.
You turn red until the tip of your ears, taking a silent gulp. “Hi, Maria. You need anything?”
“No.” she lowers her gaze, returning to her serious self. Lifting a plastic bag she held between her arms, she goes on, “I wanted to bring you these.”
You take a look at the bag, noticing a container within it.
“It’s sandwiches.” she adds in front of your confused face.
A small smile makes its way on your lips.
That simple gesture wasn’t new to you, not once she happened to show up with a bag of whatever for you to eat– yet you couldn’t help but feel so overwhelmingly grateful every time it happened.
And, of course, it also meant she wasn’t there to bring any negative topic to torment you with.
Silently, you move to the side, allowing her in.
Entering your place, Maria goes straight to the table, posing the bag on top of its wooden surface and beginning to remove the container which held the food from it.
“How are you?” she asks without watching you, too busy setting the table with a couple glasses and a water bottle she went to take from your fridge.
You close the door and reach her side at the table, sitting down in one of the chairs around it. You grab a sandwich. “Fine.”
“Tommy told me you said yes.”
You take a deep breath. Throwing her a quick glance, you ask, “What about it?”
“Thank you.”
The sound of that simple sentence is so sweet and so rare you feel the corners of your eyes wetting up. Gulping, you lower your gaze to the table. “It’s nothin’.”
That moment between the two of you is over before it even starts. Maria shifted the topic on something more frivolous, for you to ease up a little, considering you were always pretty rigid these days. The two of you chatted for awhile—
It was only after she made sure you finished the whole food that she left, wishing you a goodnight.
She also gave you a small card with the date and hour of the party. This Friday, at 6 PM. Tommy already informed you it was gonna be at their house.
It was…. Happening. That card was its confirmation. The more you stared at it, the more you realized.
Those informations were enough for your brain to create imagines of all the possible ways that evening could go. Useless to say how much it made you sweat cold.
You were gonna see her.
You couldn’t help it. Didn’t matter how much time passed, it stuck with you, day and night. Especially night.
And now that you were all alone, again, in your empty house, flipping that stupid card between your fingers over and over again, you were seeing it all.
Her slim fingers holding that camera. The way she watches you and tells you how to pose, how good you look with no clothes on. Illuminated by the early dawn lights, giving you that erotic shade she so much loved, after one of your many nights spent exploring each others’ bodies.
It all goes back to you, punching your gut with memories of what you saw many times. Of what you were going to see again, in just a couple days.
Only this time she wasn’t yours anymore.
،،̲ Time skip · Party taking place.
The reflection on the mirror meets your irritated face, gazing up and down the dress you chose for that party with unsure eyes. What were you thinking. Seriously, going to Tommy and Maria’s anniversary dressed like that— God.
Red, you pull the mini skirt down, trying to cover your thighs the best you can. Of course it’s useless, with such length it could barely cover your ass.
Cursing yourself one more time for your poorly thought choices, you brace yourself for the crowd left downstairs when you went for the bathroom half an hour ago. You couldn’t spend the night there, as much as you wanted to.
Though it wasn’t your clothing the thing bothering you the most.
Ellie. Ellie, fucking, Williams.
Who else could it be.
It’s stupid, so stupid. You know it shouldn’t bother you, she shouldn’t have that effect on you. And you knew you, deep down in your core, you chose that skirt just for the sake of catching a glimpse of her attention.
And it worked, too. Getting pissed off for having the desired effect was the peak of hypocrisy from you. Well done, Y/N.
،،̲ Flashback.
It was 6 o’clock. The sun was still high on the sky and you were standing still in front of the door, with your knuckles white around the handle, drops of annoyingly warm sweat dripping down your temples.
It was too late to chicken out— is what you’ve been repeating yourself for a good moment now. Hell, you got there earlier too.
Hearing the muffled voices, which were way too many for your personal comfort, coming from the other part of the door, though, it sure made you question whether it really was “too late”.
“Uhm.” Someone behind your shoulders cleared their throat, the sound vaguely familiar.
You don’t turn around, feeling your breathing fastening.
Why. Why her of all people. Why now. Just, why.
“Are you gonna open that door any time soon, or…?” Ellie’s smile shows through her words, her steps coming closer behind you. “If you don’t mind, I have to get in.”
Without saying anything, unable rather, you move to the side to free the space. She walks closer, until reaching the handle with her hand.
Just as she’s about to open it, her gaze drops on you.
“You’re not getting in?”
“Not now.” you dryly answer, your feet suddenly very interesting.
“Uh, okay.” She says, pushing the door slightly open. “Nice skirt, by the way.” is the last sentence you hear from her, before she disappears into the house, closing the door with a thud.
Such good start.
،،̲ End of flashback.
Walking down the stairs to return to the living room, you smile your way between the people in there, fishing for a familiar face in the crowd.
“Jessie!” you merrily approach him.
“Y/N! Where were you? Maria’s looking for ya!” the boy shouts.
Definitely not something you wanted to hear.
With less excitement than before, you go ahead.
“Why?” you feel your insides sink. Please, let it not be…
“The pictures! She’s already made severals with other guests, you’re the only one missing!” he keeps shouting through the music, indicating with his chin the direction of the “photos corner” Maria set up for the purpose.
It was time. Turns out trying to escape didn’t really work.
You sigh, strangely accepting your fate without too much resistance. You’ve already made it through half of the time, might as well just push through a little more until the whole thing was over.
“I’ll go search her up.” you pat Jessie’s shoulder as a sign of gratitude for informing you, beginning to squeeze yourself through the mass of people on the dancefloor to go to the corner. Hopefully Maria was still nearby.
Once you get there, you let out a loud exhale for finally having back some vital space. There weren’t so many people in there, it was rather tranquil.
“Y/N! There you are.” Maria’s voice exclaims from a couple feet away, a glass of what you guessed was wine in her hand and an unbothered Ellie under her arm.
You struggle not to widen your eyes stupidly, shocked to notice how fucking drunk the most serious and rigid woman known to Jackson was.
“I looked everywhere for you!” she proceeds to add, almost spilling her drink on you when she gestures ostentatiously her surroundings. “We have to take the photos, go, go get the camera Ellie–” this time, caused by a quick jerk of her arm in the direction of the camera, Maria manages to spill the thing on you… Altogether.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Ellie hurriedly grabs the glass from Maria’s hand, placing it on the table next you, while you, on the other hand, were too busy watching with disgust your top and skirt gluing to your skin. It smelled pretty bad, too.
“Ugh–” you take a step backward, lifting your face towards Maria’s figure. To your surprise, you meet an apologetic Ellie looking back at you. “I’ll,” the girl holds the woman to her feet, “I’ll bring her to Tommy. She’s way too wasted.”
“I noticed.” you ironically chime in, although the bitterness in your tone, which wasn’t caused by Maria spilling the drink on you contrary to what one might think, but rather Ellie’s unwanted presence.
“Yeah…” she lets out an ashamed cackle. “Sorry about that.”
The sentence is accompanied by a glance, lingering on your naked thighs a little too long for it to go unnoticed. Before you can remark, she snaps herself out of it, going back to watch Maria with a cough that sounded vaguely forced.
“Ain’t your fault.” you mutter, turning your face away– and pretending you hadn’t catch sight of what she’s just done. “Look.” as you do, you see Tommy’s frame not to far from you, chatting with several guests alongside Joel. “Tommy’s just over there.”
Ellie nods, after peering at him. “’Kay.” she pulls Maria closer to her, gaining some gibberish laments from her.
“I’ll go then.”
Just like that, she takes off and drags herself, and intoxicated Maria, towards the man, leaving you by yourself.
Well, that was awkward, you thought. But at least Maria being so drunk she could barely speak was a sign she was having a good time, right?
Letting out the hundredth sigh of the night probably, you head to the restroom once again. Perhaps the couple had an hair dryer you could use.
They do.
When you open one of the drawers, you find the object immediately. It’s old and small, but you don’t mind, connecting it to the socket and turning it on.
Surely Tommy and Maria weren’t going to be bothered by you using it, you thought.
You take your time drying your clothes, unable to stop yourself from going back to the moment. You certainly wasn’t expecting to have a civil “conversation”, if so could be called, with her.
Your cheeks redden. The way she looked at you.
Didn’t matter it was just an instant. It happened and it was enough for you to rub your thighs together.
And God, was she hot. You weren’t able to see her earlier, when you two first “encountered” in front of the entrance due to your… Shame. But she looked so good.
With those tight faded jeans and that white wife beater. Oh, she played your same game, you were sure. Even worse, considering you complimented those pieces in the past.
Perhaps it was way too irrational and narcissistic of you to think she wore that just because you liked how they suited her. Maybe it was a little too cocky of you to even think she remembered you saying you did.
Still, it made you wonder.
A couple minutes pass. The clothes were now fully dry.
Placing back the hair dryer, you fix yourself up a little bit, before descending the steps back into the crowd again, when a thought crosses your mind.
Honestly, after all that’s happened so far, a breath of fresh air really wouldn’t hurt.
You throw a glance at the door that leaded to the backyard, then a couple shots left and right. Nobody seemed to be looking at you.
Although you didn’t really see Tommy, Maria, nor Ellie.
The question of where they were crossed your mind briefly, tossing it away the second you stir your legs into the kitchen, to walk outside.
The second you close the door behind your shoulders, you inhale the fresh nightly air and let it brush your skin pleasingly. Summer nights were so the best.
The patio was adorable, to say the least; showcasing a small dining set at the right, and some white steps at the left, leading to the actual yard… Which was full of plants and decorations.
You’re unable to hide a small smile, seeing so vividly both Maria and Tommy’s touches all around you.
Quietly, you take out a small pack of smokes from your pocket, going to perch down on one of the steps. You light it up, after bringing it between your lips, and take your first inhale.
As you begin to lose yourself in your thoughts, you hear the door open mildly, warily almost.
You watch Ellie’s head pops out of it, looking both sides, as if seeking for something or someone. Her eyes lock on you when she sees you.
“There you are.” she enters the place.
Looks like she was indeed searching for someone. The question was, why you of all people.
You lift an eyebrow, fatiguing not to show how irritated you were for the interruption of your alone time.
“Maria’s passed out in her room. Gosh, you should’ve seen Tommy’s face when he saw her.” the girl laughs, stopping at a fair distance from you, with her back resting against the cold railing of the steps.
You don’t say anything, allowing her to go on with her monologue. Maybe she was going somewhere.
“I never seen her ease up so much. Well, it’s their night. Only fair she enjoyed herself, I guess.” she proceeds, eyeing the smoke in your lips. Actually, your lips.
Your brows frown. No, she definitely wasn’t.
“She’ll be so sorry she hasn’t taken the pictures with you, though.”
“Ellie.” you snap. “What are you doing?”
Ellie’s face becomes stupid, resembling perfectly a fish out of water. “What do you mean?” she asks.
“We’re not friends. We haven’t spoken in months, why are you coming to me and talking nonsense as if we’re on good terms?”
Strangely, your lucidity hasn’t left you. Neither did grudge have the best on you. For now.
It made your ex go silent, though.
“Listen.” you get up from your seat. “I have nothing against you,”
The way you held a straight face while pronouncing the biggest lie of your entire life was worthy of a Nobel for best actress.
“But I genuinely hope you won’t mind me not having any desire in chatting with you as if nothing ever happened between us.”
“I know you hate me.” a bittersweet laughs succeeds her statement, the “clueless” mask falling off of her face. “Everyone noticed.”
Her shoes seemed to be incredible interesting all of a sudden, redness spread on her cheeks and fingertips playing nervously with her silver rings.
“I just wanted to talk.”
An uncertain sheepishness you’ve never seen on her colored her tone. Almost softening you.
Almost.
“About Maria?” you sarcastically respond, taking a couple steps toward the door, until reaching its front.
Just as you’re about to leave, tired of that cheap interaction you were engaging in, you stop.
You know you shouldn’t say your next words, you should just go away and move ahead with your night. But you can’t.
Opening your mouth, an obnoxious phrase leaves your throat like a spit. Just a tint of the grudge that left you sleepless most nights.
“Go talk to Dina. I’m sure she’ll love to chat with you.” you say, stepping into the kitchen.
Oh, how you hate yourself for what you’ve just done. You’ve just showed you were still thinking about it— the reason El gave you that April evening.
A hand fetter the door from closing.
You whip your head behind you, taken aback.
“Dina and I are not together.” the shyness seemed to be gone all of a sudden. Now her body was just a couple inches away from you, uncaring of your wide eyes.
“I didn’t say you were.” you blurt. “Who’d want you?” a sour chuckle.
However your witty remark is not as witty as you think.
“You.” Ellie’s response is swift, confident.
And you hate how true it is.
Letting out another chuckle, this time spurious and very notably annoyed, you attempt another witty remark.
“I used to. Don’t get your hopes high.”
Another lie.
She knew all of them.
Because she’s the one who broke up with you. Not the other way around. She knew how much power she still had over you. How much you still liked her.
You wouldn’t be avoiding her like a plague, if that wasn’t the case. Would you.
“Hm, not sure ‘bout that.” a smirk splits her face. “You still very much do.”
One may argue you merely did out of a place of nuisance, having grown harsh feelings for her and simply deciding it was best for your persona to stay away from someone that no longer had a place in your life.
Alas that wasn’t your case.
“I don’t.” you breathe. Ellie Williams had a hold on your heart, every inside of your being really, to the point it burnt.
The interaction is ceased, momentarily, by a loud vociferate coming from the parlor where everyone was still partying in.
Looked like somebody, Seth perhaps, was arguing with another somebody. Who knew, from what it sounded like, could’ve just been loud cheers. You couldn’t tell.
And by the look of Ellie’s confused face, neither could she.
Yet, the pause is short. The girl in front of you has no intention to quit what she’s begun.
“So you’re telling me that if I were to kiss you,” she starts, shifting your attention back to her with a shock. “You’d push me away?”
Her eyes flitted on your face, every inch of it, from your eyes to your lips.
“Yes.” firmly, you answer. “And I swear to God, if you seriously try to I’m gonna scream.”
Ellie’s lips curled up.
“Can’t scream if your mouth’s covered.”
Them being the last thing you saw before the black of your closed eyelids.
Your complaints were muffled, your body tugged into her, by her brisk hands holding you where you most liked: your sensitive hips. All too familiar things that made you lose every drop of dignity with such simplicity it wasn’t fair.
She didn’t even feel your palms trying to push her away, your pathetic attempts to reject what you, deep down, most yearned for.
And when you ultimately give in, because your weak self does, your back is pushed against the fridge, a little too roughly, your thigh being lifted up against her own, sneaking her knee between your legs. Pressing right under your sweet spot.
“El,” the name slips from your tongue like a moan, a whiny please for her to do whatever with your body.
You feel her press her knee harder onto you, grinning proudly on your lips. “Mmh?” she hums into your mouth, covering your skin with shivers.
“Stop.”
What was supposed to come out as a strict order, instead sounded more like an insipid suggestion. One last endeavouring, before wholly giving yourself away to someone who left you for developing feelings for another woman.
How goddamn low was your self worth.
“Just for tonight. Tomorrow you can go back hating me.”
Such bittersweet words were a knife in the heart of a poor soul like yours. Never have you ever felt so torn apart, so small and helpless.
Ellie’s thumbs draw circles on your waist, her lips pecking the corner of your mouth, your jaw, below your ear. Her touch is inebriating, it drugged you without any effort.
You squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing hard.
“Remember how good it felt?” her hot breath tickles your ear. Your fingers dig into her nape, your chest rising and falling quicker.
“I can still do it, y’know?” her tone lowers dangerously, vibrating beneath your flesh, shaking your senses alive. “Make you see God.”
If Eve’s snake had a voice, it would’ve been Ellie Williams’.
“And I still have those photos.” slowly, her fingers travel down, her teeth nibbling your lobe. “Wanna know what I do with ‘em every night?”
At that, your heart halts. “Do you really wanna have this conversation here?” you inhale sharply.
“It’s not a conversation, it’s just me trying to get permission to take off your panties.” she chuckles at your red face. “But you’re right, we should go at my place.”
“No, we shouldn’t.”
“Yeah, okay.” her green eyes roll.
“You’re a jerk!” you exclaim.
“And you’re wet.” El’s hand slides down into her pocket, fishing for something. A second later, her keys are whirling around her finger. “So? What do you wanna do, miss?”
A silent gulp.
But you’ll have all the time in the world to regret your poor choices later.
،،̲ Time skip.
The two of you left the event without explanations, nor goodbyes, aware it would only cause unwanted questions and glances from the guests and hosts— thing you’d rather avoid.
Like two thieves in the night, you quietly walked your way to Ellie’s house. It wasn’t far from Tommy’s, yet the five minutes it took to actually get there were filled with avoidant stares and awkward silence.
You felt lightheaded, excitement mixed with shame, precocious remorse. It made you numb, watching and listening the keys rolling into the lock.
Then you see her move aside.
You lift your eyes at her.
“Been awhile since you’ve been here. Go first.”
The sentence hit you with a wave of sourness, that you swallowed down. There was nothing to comment, or add.
You went in under her green peepers. The second your feet step into the place, each one of your sense is shaken by an overwhelming nostalgia.
The smell of old furniture and paint. The sight of her mini studio, where she kept her cameras, lights. Her living room, with the TV and console.
It kills you and brings back to life at the same time.
The memories. Oh, the memories.
“Missed it?” her voice speaks behind you, as she closes the door. Without waiting for you to reply, she adds. “’Cause I did.”
As you turn, her frame walks up to you, swiftly cupping your face.
She steals a kiss, two kisses.
You let yourself be touched, lulled toward her bedroom. Her veiny hands travel on every inch of your back, finally zipping the dress down then sliding it off of your body. Not wasting time on your bra too.
A pleased sigh leaves your lips, feeling her mouth printing wet hickeys on your neck, her thumbs circling around your bare nipples.
Her touch is strangely gentle, it’s not something she ever got you used to. She takes her time, slowly and gently, a sort of foreplay for you to actually get desperate for it.
Your back hits the mattress, as she makes her way between your legs, her hands teasing your skin until you’re filled with goosebumps. Her middle and index fingers go to tease your sweet spot, going slightly faster then stopping.
It goes on until your panties are a soaking mess, then she does you the solid of taking them off and shoving her mouth on it.
Your swollen clit pulsates into her mouth, her tongue working its way up and down, then sucking in. It feels like heaven, you struggle not to make a sound, as you’re already panting and sweating— A mess, arching your back to pull yourself further into her, gasping at her slick movements.
But all she wants is for you to let that sound out.
“C’mon.” she growls, hot breath tickling your cunt, before she slides two fingers in you, going back to stimulate you with her good tongue. Your pussy is dripping all over, sloppy as she goes in and out, fastening her pace to spit that orgasm out of you.
And, finally, your voice starts speaking within your throat, your chest is rising and falling at an unsteady rate, nearing climax. Another thrust, curling her slim fingers to your sweet spot, and your jaw drops, letting the pleasure leave your mouth, uncontrolled, spontaneous.
“Mmh,” Ellie’s thighs rub together, the sound making her bite her lower lip arousingly.
“First orgasm of the night, very well. You won’t leave this house until you have at least 4 more.”
Your sweaty self looks down at El’s face between your naked thighs, her face a mere promise of what’s gonna await you for the next hours.
“The night’s still young. I told you I could still make you see God.”
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