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lesbianrobin · 1 year

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i'd be the prom queen (if crying was a contest)

3,561 words

robin & steve: an alternate meeting

“Your 1985 Prom King is, drumroll please..!”

Kids pound their legs and any nearby tables, some stomping wildly in place and others simply screaming until the noise bouncing around inside the gym seems to make her bones rattle. Robin halfheartedly pats her thighs along to the horrendously out of sync drumroll, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. It’s going to be him. It’s going to be him, and she’s going to lose what’s left of her sanity, and then since he’s single now he’ll take Tammy home and they’ll have gross sex and he’ll definitely suck at it and Robin could totally do better even though she’s never kissed anyone before. She’d just be better by default because Steve sucks.

“Steeeeve Harrington!”

The room erupts in a cacophonous mix of cheers and taunts. Robin drains the last of her punch as they lower the crown over his stupid hair, and for what certainly won’t be the last time tonight, she wishes that it had occurred to her to sneak in alcohol before she’d already arrived and gotten a peek at Christina Brown’s “hidden” flask.

“Woo!”

“Yeah, Stevie-boy!”

“Aw, fuck off!”

“Homo!”

“Go Steve!”

It doesn’t escape Robin’s notice that the more encouraging remarks tend to be from female voices, while all of the jeers are male. At least one guy is whistling in support from the back of the room. Steve soaks it all up, the adoration and envy alike, with perfect, shining hair and a pageant smile.The student council president whose old lady name she can never remember shushes everybody so she can announce who won Queen as Steve waves to his adoring fans. Robin doesn’t know most of the nominees. They’re upperclassmen, cheerleaders and high achievers who’ve never given her a second glance.

“Heather Holloway!”

The pretty brunette in a nice pink dress gasps and slaps a hand over her mouth like she’s just won the lottery. People cheer just as loudly as they did for Steve, though nobody heckles her. Steve claps, whoops like he’s not onstage and still way too close to the microphone, and it makes her sick. Heather accepts her crown and sash gracefully before being whisked offstage by some muscular asshole who must be her boyfriend, and the DJ starts up “Time After Time.” Steve takes the stairs down, and Robin forces herself not to follow his path through the crowd. The shitty finger foods on her paper plate are far more interesting than Steve Harrington.

Robin likes Cyndi Lauper alright, but this song just… sucks. It just sucks. It sucks almost as badly as the stale crackers left on her plate now that she’s eaten all the grapes and cheese. God, what did she really expect, getting dropped off at prom by her parents to meet up with a bunch of friends? They ditched her to dance as soon as they got inside, and sure, maybe she could get up and join them, but it just… it just sucks. None of these stupid couples will last after high school, and the ones that do will end up miserable together, but there’s still a jealous pang in her chest whenever Robin looks up to see some girl’s nicely manicured hands laced behind some guy’s neck, the way their ties and dresses match and they lean in close to whisper right into each other’s ears.

“Wanna dance?”

She looks up. The first thing she sees is a glint of light.

“With you?” Robin immediately pinches her own leg through the layers of polyester and tulle that her mother’s forced her into for the occasion. Shit, it stung. It actually stung.

Steve Harrington glances around like he might’ve missed somebody else in the conversation, light glinting off his crown, before shooting her a winning smile. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

“No,” she says instinctively.

He frowns, and of course he does because the asshole could never even imagine somebody not wanting to be with him, but his eyes go a little dull, a little tired, a lot sad, and something seizes in her chest, and this is why Robin doesn’t always do well in social situations, because panic seizes her throat and stimulates her vocal cords without her permission.

“No, I meant I don’t mind! So I do. Want to dance.”

The sadness dissipates with an airy Steve Harrington laugh. The winning smile returns as he raises an eyebrow. “With me?”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” she says easily, shoving down the anxiety swirling in her gut and raising a hand because she’s read this script before. She must’ve delivered her line right, because Steve takes it, pulling her lightly to her feet and leading her out onto the dance floor. Her heart pounds faster as they weave their way to the center of the floor. So many people are looking at them already. There’s not a familiar face in sight, which should be statistically impossible for a school this size, but Robin doesn’t know any of these people as more than faces in the hall, and she really should have stuck to her instincts. Why did she take back the “no?” That was the smartest “no” in the history of the world, and she went and screwed it up like she always does.

Steve taps someone on the shoulder, and tugs her through a wall of people, and suddenly they’re right by the stage. Nestled between the speakers it’s almost… intimate. The music is loud, but the people aren’t so much. It’s better. Steve smiles softly as he arranges her arms, taking one hand gently in his own and placing the other on his shoulder. He moves his own hand slowly to her waist, like he’s waiting for her to stop him, and she can’t help but snort.

He makes a face at her and grips her waist properly. “Alright, alright.”

She rolls her eyes. “Well, I said I’d dance, right?”

“Jeez, I can’t be polite?”

There he is. Steve “the Hair” Harrington, asshole extraordinaire. She knew he’d come out sooner rather than later.

“...Why me?” Robin asks, “Steve Harrington couldn’t get a date to the prom?”

She almost regrets her harsh tone when he averts his gaze, pretending to be interested in whatever’s going on over in the little photo studio in the corner of the room. Steve sighs.

“Well, I saw you admiring me all night,” he says with a wry grin, neck craned just a bit, eyes fixed in the corner. Robin’s stomach fills with lead. He’s gonna Carrie her. This is a Carrie somehow. It has to be.

His eyes flick back towards her as he chuckles, then they flick away, still focused on something over her shoulder. It feels cruel, nothing like the laugh she heard earlier, and the hand on her waist is hot like a brand, and he must feel how sweaty her hand is, and this is when he’ll tighten his grip and—

“Kidding. Uh, I don’t know. You looked about as miserable as I am, I guess.”

“What?”

Steve swallows. He finally meets her eyes with a weak grin. “Didn’t want to bring someone down with my shitty mood, but I have to dance. So I figured maybe you wouldn’t mind taking a spin and helping me out. Can’t be worse than just sitting around, right?”

“That’s a pretty big assumption.”

He blinks at her. He smiles, really smiles, and tugs her closer so that they might be able to rest their heads on each other’s shoulders, if they wanted to. She doesn’t.

“What’s your name?” he asks conversationally, like she can’t feel his breath on her shoulder and his hand in hers.

“Robin,” she says, and it sounds so raspy, he probably thinks she’s, like, into this or something, which is pretty much as far from the truth as humanly possible. How did this even happen? She’s been facing the stage most of the time, but Steve has been rotating them as he slowly sways, and now she can see some faces out in the crowd. A few are familiar. A lot are looking at her.

“I’m Steve.”

“No shit,” she bites out, fighting the urge to dig her fingers into his shoulder in the hope of bruising it.

“Okay, yeah,” Steve says placatingly, “Obviously you know that. Uh, you look familiar.”

“Click’s class. You sat, like, right in front of me.”

“Oh. Really?” Steve sounds genuinely surprised.

“Yeah, really.”

“Shit,” he whispers, and she probably wasn’t supposed to hear it, the music as loud as it is, but his mouth is, like, right next to her ear, and it’s not her fault that Harrington doesn’t understand how sound works.

She scoffs. “Relax. I didn’t really expect you to remember me. You never really even looked at me.”

“No, it’s not — ” Steve sighs, and she feels more than sees it when he shakes his head. All she can see is the crowd. There’s Catherine, and Ally, and Jeremy and David and Rachel, all looking at her. He’s stopped rotating them now, sticking to the slow sway, so she’s stuck unless she wants to force him, and instinct tells her that Steve Harrington isn’t someone who lets people force him to do anything.

“ ... just don’t remember a lot of shit, now.”

Her attention snaps back to Steve, to his hand on her waist and face nearly buried in her shoulder. “What?”

“Forget it.”

“Why the shitty mood?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

Tammy Thompson’s wearing blue. Her dress is… awful, honestly, it’s horrendous, like a big blue garbage bag, but she wears it well, like with a smile and a toss of her hair she could make an actual garbage bag look even better.

“Alright,” she finds herself saying. “Then ask.”

“...Okay. So, Robin,” he says, deftly maneuvering the clammy hand he’s cupped in his own so that their fingers are entwined, “Why the shitty mood?”

Tammy’s dancing with Sam Reynolds. They’re just friends, Robin’s pretty sure, or at least they’re nothing serious, but it hurts all the same. She’s absolutely glowing.

“Well, as you can see, I came alone.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t have a good time,” Steve counters. “There’s music, and food, and you look absolutely gorgeous.”

Robin can’t help how her face scrunches in disgust. Steve must feel her tense up, because he huffs out a laugh.

“Calm down, I’m not, like, coming on to you. But I can see, you know.”

Tammy looks away from Sam.

Their eyes meet.

Robin freezes, or she tries to, but Steve loosens his grip on her hand and it’s enough to jolt her back into reality. She squeezes both his hand and his shoulder, probably a little too tight, but if it bothers him he doesn’t say anything. Tammy is still looking.

“I didn’t come with the person I wanted to,” she says. It’s the truth, but it leaves the same sharp, sick aftertaste as a lie. An opening. Asking to get caught.

“Guess I don’t have to give you my answer now,” Steve says lightly.

“Yeah?” she asks.

Tammy’s lipstick is just on the tasteful side of pink. Just a bit brighter, just a bit more eye makeup, and it would be garish, but of course it isn’t, because it’s Tammy. She licks her lips, so quickly Robin can barely even see. What does her lipstick taste like? Is it bitter? Or is it decent enough that she can wet her lips whenever she’d like without worrying about washing the taste out of her mouth later? She’ll wear it away, then, and Robin can’t help picturing it, Tammy leaning in close to the mirror to reapply, and what if they ran into each other in the ladies’ room, and Tammy asked if she could be a doll and help her out?

“Well, no point in repeating ourselves.” Steve takes a harsh breath, and it’s weird, being so close to another person that she can feel his chest expanding just a bit more than it has been. They’re so close, and she should be uncomfortable, and she is, technically, in the sense that her shoes are pinching and her dress is hot and the whole room smells like sweat, but Steve’s hand in hers isn’t too bad. Pathetically enough, it’s almost nice. She’s so desperate and lonely that even Steve “the Hair” Harrington holding her hand is a comfort.

Tammy hasn’t broken eye contact yet. There’s something in her gaze, though, something Robin’s never seen directed at herself before. Tammy frowns at her, pulls Sam in close, and shuts her eyes as she continues to dance.

No point in repeating themselves. She might be hopeless, but Steve Harrington didn’t get the girl, either.

“That’s really it? You just won Prom King, and you can’t get over whatever girl turned you down this week?”

“You know, you’re kinda harsh, Robin.”

Robin might be hopeless, but she also has a mean streak. She shrugs, and Steve’s hand moves from her waist to rest on her back, like he might pull her into a hug at any minute, and it feels better. Less performative.

He continues, “I don’t think that’s really it for you either.”

“It’s not.”

“Well, there’s your answer.”

Robin shakes her head. “You know, you can’t just keep dodging questions with other questions forever.”

“Who said anything about forever? The song’s at least halfway over.”

She hums like she’s disappointed. “One and done, huh?”

It’s the third time Steve’s laughed since they first started talking, and this one makes Robin smile too. He shoves his forehead against her shoulder for a second, shaking, before he lifts his head again and says, “We really never talked in Click’s class?”

“Uh, not unless you count that time I dropped my paper and you said, hey, is this yours, and I said yeah, and you handed it back to me. That was pretty much it.”

“What a waste,” Steve says.

He says it like he means it. Like he really regrets not talking to her. She kind of believes him.

“What’s the other reason, then?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I came alone and I’m going straight home afterwards because I’m failing pre-calc and I have remedial work to do. These shoes barely fit. I can’t sleep, I can’t remember most of last semester, and I can’t go anywhere near the picture line without feeling like I��m gonna throw up. And I’m pretty sure half the basketball team just campaigned for me because they knew all the girls up for Queen already had boyfriends and I didn’t have a date. It’s funny for them, you know? Makes me look like even more of a loser.”

There’s… a lot there, but he rushed through the stuff in the middle, and something tells her that he sandwiched those things for a reason. What’s his problem with pictures? Does he mean he can’t sleep like he’s up all night tossing and turning, or like he’s torn awake by night terrors? Did he forget most of what he learned last semester, or like, most of what happened over those few months? It’s just… a lot, too much, and none of it really makes sense.

So Robin rolls her eyes. “You know, dancing with me isn’t really gonna help you with looking like a loser.”

“Jesus, shut up. Like you’re not cooler than all the girls in here. You know this is all stupid. This shit is who I am, but it’s not who you are. So why do you care so much?”

Steve Harrington is just as irritating as ever when he’s being nice. Maybe even moreso.

“Oh, you know who I am?”

“I think I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

She wants to challenge him. Tell me, she’d say, go on, I’m listening. I want to hear what you think. What do you see when you look at me, huh? What do you hear when I talk to you? Do you know what I want? What I’m afraid of? Who I want to be, and what I’m terrified of becoming? Do you hear it when I cry every night? Tell me, Steve, where does the weight of the world sit on you? Is it crushing your chest, too? Or does it sit nice and high up on your shoulders? Go on, tell me. Who does the great Steve Harrington think I am?

But some questions don’t need to be answered. Besides, those questions are meant for the great Steve Harrington, and this guy is… something else. Something sadder.

“... It’s not really about them,” she tries. “Or it… it won’t be. It is, right now. But it’ll be about someone else eventually.”

“That’s… good, right?”

“No,” she says plainly. “It’s gonna be the same way then, too.”

“What makes you think that?”

Robin tries to laugh. It feels like more of a sob. “Call it instinct.”

“Time After Time” fades into something energetic and upbeat. It’s probably big right now, based on how everyone reacts by immediately breaking away from their partners to form big dance groups with their friends, but Robin must be listening to her Walkman too much, because she swears she’s never heard it before in her life.

“Well,” Steve says, not letting go, continuing to sway, “I think your instincts are bullshit.”

“Don’t,” she chokes, “Please.”

Steve unwinds their fingers, and it almost hurts, but then he pulls her into a hug, one arm around her shoulders and the other around her waist. She reciprocates without thinking, pressing her face against the fine material of his suit jacket. He’ll probably have to wipe her makeup off later.

“Look,” he says, and his voice wavers, just for a moment. “I know… Hawkins sucks. It really fucking sucks, more than anyone realizes. But you don’t. It’s not… we just met, basically, but I know that whatever it is, you’re not the problem. Okay? It’s just… other people.”

He doesn’t know. He can’t. He can’t, or he wouldn’t be holding her like this, and saying these words, and treating her like...

“Other people suck,” she says.

Steve’s shoulders slump forward, and she realizes that he’s been tense all night. Their hug feels different, now. More like the hugs that her mom used to give her when she was little and she couldn’t sleep. The music is a blanket of noise around them, her eyes shut and face tilted down into Steve’s shoulder, and Robin could almost forget they were in the same gym where she plays dodgeball on Thursdays. Fifty feet away from the locker room with the tiles she’s memorized, with the forty-six holes in the drain on the floor and the small remnant of somebody’s old gum stuck in the grout. They’re standing in warmth, and sound, and maybe it’s a veil of denial or ignorance but Robin can’t really bring herself to care when it lets her believe that maybe someone understands.

“Get a room!”

“Fuck off,” Steve lifts his head to shout at whoever said it, and Robin flinches.

She opens her eyes. She lifts her head. She takes a step back.

“Robin?”

“Hm?”

“Are you alright?” Steve leans in to speak clearly over the music.

Shaking out her shoulders and forcing herself to smile, she says, “Yeah. I think I ruined your suit, though.”

He frowns, glances at his shoulder, and laughs at the perfect imprint of Robin’s face loud enough that some nearby dancers turn their heads for a moment. It’s a nice sound. It makes Robin want to laugh, too.

“You want to get out of here?”

Fuck.

“I’m not…” she says, glancing back toward the table Steve had approached her at. None of her friends have since sat down.

He runs a hand through his hair, dislodging the crown and then fumbling awkwardly to save it before it falls onto the floor. He settles it at a crooked angle on his head and Robin snorts.

“Not like that, geez. I’m not even looking for anything —” He cuts himself off.

Steve takes a breath and continues. “ I just… we could get burgers, or something. You’re paying, obviously,” Steve says as he gestures to the makeup stain, but his fidgeting hands betray his confident tone.

There’s no way this doesn’t end badly. No way that Steve Harrington doesn’t try to make a move on her, or somehow figure out she’s a raging lesbian, or drive her out to an old abandoned farmhouse and turn her skin into a suit.

Robin hasn’t felt this good all night. She’s on the brink of tears, but she hasn’t felt this good in weeks, maybe fucking years, and if there’s just the slightest chance that she might actually just go and get burgers with a friend and make her junior prom a night to actually remember… well, she’s willing to take that chance.

“I’ll pay my half, obviously.”

Steve grins. “Then come on, my Queen. Or, uh, princess, or whatever a king’s, like, friend —”

“Are you trying to say my chariot awaits?”

Steve presses his lips together. “...No?”

Robin rolls her eyes as she holds out her arm, and Steve takes it. “Come on, Your Highness. Our totally platonic chariot awaits.”

This time, they laugh together, and Robin doesn’t bother to think about whether it was the fourth time or the fifth. She’ll hear it way too many times to count.

#robin buckley #steve harrington #stranger things fic #lesbianrobin.fic #stobin #genuinely platonic soulmates #stranger things #em talks

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sehnsuchts-trunken · 2 years

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Same Old Truck

Jake Seresin x fem!reader 7k words (yeah i know)

summary: It’s been fifteen years since you last saw Jake Seresin. Back then, you were head over heels in love with him. Now you aren’t much better off. The only question: If it ended back then, how can you be sure it’ll last now?

a/n: still no clue about the us military. i googled it all and as we know google is inaccurate as shit so dont mind that also that’s one of my favourite jake gifs so.... yeah.

top gun masterlist

Usually on a Friday night, you would be sitting at home with a nice cup of tea, watching TV. Sometimes, you would be out with friends, drinking and dancing. Today, you were back at your old high school’s gym in a summer dress, champagne in one hand and phone in the purse at your side, chatting to people you hadn’t seen since graduation.

Everyone had come back today. All of the guys you had spent years next to in class, laughing with over lunch in the cafeteria, gossiping with, studying with, crying with. There were so many memories here, good ones as well as bad ones, and you’d dabbed at your cheeks more times already than you wanted to admit. But who could blame you? So many stories were being told again, half of which you’d forgotten over the years, and new ones as well - these of careers and weddings and kids. It was unbelievable how much and how fast everybody had grown up.

Yet as happy as you were to be here, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread too, couldn’t help the gnawing in your stomach, the nerves bubbling up, the voices in your head that had been arguing for days now - Will he come? He’s far away after all. Do you even want him to come?

And after an hour of being here, an hour of not having seen him once, you were beginning to think that all that hope, all that dread, all that nervous anticipation had been for nothing in the end - he hadn’t come. You scolded yourself for the bitter taste that thought left in your mouth. You tried to wash it down with champagne. When that didn’t work, you excused yourself from the group you’d been catching up with to find something stronger.

And, of course, just as you had lost hope, just as you decided fuck him, let’s get drunk, just as you turned around to walk to the bar, there he was, in all his glory, standing in the doorway with a killer grin, shirt with the top buttons undone, hands stuffed lazily in the pockets of his jeans, and as you felt yourself stiffen at nothing but the sight of him, you realised that even fifteen years later you were no better off than you had been in senior year in high school.

Well, shit.

A chorus of cheers went through the crowd when he stepped in, like he was some superstar, some hero. Of course. Obviously you weren’t the only one still stuck on high school impressions.

Jake Seresin made it all of two steps into the gym before he was surrounded, shaking hands and greeting people and offering everyone a charming smile. You stood, dumbfounded, frozen in your spot - how you’d hoped he’d come. How you’d begged he wouldn’t. How you’d prayed he’d show up. How you’d pleaded he’d stay far, far away.

His eyes met yours and you could feel your knees going weak at once. Goddamn, you had to get yourself together. You were a grown ass woman, an adult with her own successful career, her own apartment, her own cat, her own fucking life, not a teenage girl anymore wooed simply by the attention of the popular guy.

At least that was what you told yourself as you tore your eyes away and forced yourself to turn around and walk up to the bar to pour a whiskey, ignoring your shaking hands as best as you could. One of the advantages of being an adult, of course, was this: There was alcohol at the prom now. No more forbidden bottles of wine and beer stolen from parents’ cabinets to sip after midnight, when the gym had closed and the teachers were going home and you were perched on the back of Jake’s truck with the rest of your friends in your dresses and suits.

“He still looks at you like that.”

You almost jumped out of your own skin at your old friend’s voice. You’d lost contact years ago - sad, really, because you’d always loved her. You remembered her in your bedroom, rummaging through your closet like it was hers, flitting about with the makeup she’d brought from home to help you get ready for your first date. You could remember her sleeping over any chance she got, you could remember staying at her’s every Saturday, you could remember dinner with her parents and torturing her little brother and staring in awe when she had got her first laptop. You’d been through thick and thin with her.

“Jesus, don’t scare me like that”, you said, pushing the well of emotions down as far as you could. You were here to enjoy a night of catching up, not cry every time someone talked to you. She raised an eyebrow.

“You still look at him like that too.”

“Look at who like what?”, you asked, your fingers skimming the rim of your glass. You weren’t dumb - she was talking about him, of course, about Jake, about the way you’d frozen in place when you’d seen him. You had been hoping it hadn’t been as obvious, but it seemed it had been (despite your prayers).

“You should go talk to him”, she said, brushing over your question completely. You bit your lip and looked down.

“It’s been fifteen years”, you said softly. “I don’t know what I’d even say.”

“It’s been fifteen years for everyone”, she countered. “And let me just remind you that reading people’s body language is part of my job. You very obviously want to talk to him.”

Right - you’d forgotten she’d studied psychology.

“I...” You took a deep breath and glanced up at her. “I’m not saying I don’t want to talk to him. I’m just saying... I don’t know what I’d tell him. And I don’t know if he even wants to talk to me.”

She snorted at that.

“Are you kidding me? He’s been eyeing you from over there since he got here, he definitely wants to talk to you. He probably would’ve already if he wasn’t being cornered by literally half the people here at once.” She rolled her eyes. “Of course he’s still just as popular.”

You couldn’t help but grin. You knew very well that she loved him - at least that she had back then - and that she was feigning the annoyance just like she always had. They’d got in so much trouble together, pranked each other to the point where they’d both ended up in the ER, and you were surprised that they’d lost contact, though you knew yourself just how easily that happened. Time really did sneak up on you in life. You’d be surrounded by friends one day and when you looked back the day after that, years would have passed and they would all be off in some faraway corners of the world without you.

Your eyes started filling with tears for the millionth time today. You tried to blink them away, but she noticed before you could.

“Oh god”, she said, putting a hand to your arm, “Don’t cry or I’ll cry too.”

“Sorry”, you laughed, in an attempt to get your mood back up. “It’s just- Sometimes I just wish we could go back. I didn’t even realise how much I missed you all. Promise me we’ll stay in touch after this, please? I don’t want to lose you again.”

You could see the tears in her eyes when she sniffled and hugged you, throwing her arms around you with a fevor that nearly knocked you back.

“Promise! And you promise to come to my wedding.”

You laughed as you held her close. “Definitely.”

When she pulled away again, you had to dab at your eyes, but she wasn’t looking at you - she was looking at something behind you, the corners of her lips tugging upwards, and the twinkle in her expression reminded you of the way she’d always looked at Jake the second before tackling him.

Jake, you thought, and immediately your body reacted (to the mere thought of him, no less), a cold shiver running down your spine, your jaw clenching, your knees going weak. She winked at you. You had half a mind not to turn around.

“Loverboy heading your way”, she muttered. She was already backing away when you came to your senses.

“Don’t you want to, you know, catch up too?”

Maybe it would be less weird if she stayed. Maybe you’d be less affected. Maybe... Or maybe not. But she wasn’t about to let you figure that out.

“I’ve got his number saved”, she shrugged. “You just relax and enjoy it.”

Relax and enjoy it, sure, sure, because that was so easy. Because you hadn’t spent the last fifteen years drinking up every tidbit of information about him that had somehow crossed your path. Which hadn’t been much anyway. He’d become a naval aviator, just like he’d always wanted. He’d been travelling all over the US. He’d come for the holidays whenever he’d been able to. That was that. So basically, you knew nothing. Nothing at all.

You didn’t know if he was still the same Jake you’d dated back then. You had no clue if perhaps he was an entirely different person now.

But you would have to find out. You would have to jump in at the deep end, because you were standing all alone at the bar with Jake coming up behind you. Your fingers swiped over your glass. You didn’t want to turn around. Yet everything inside of you was screaming at you to do it, just to look at him, just to know if this was the same guy that you’d been head-over-heels in love with in high school.

He tapped your shoulder. You could smell his aftershave. Your hand wrapped around your glass as you took one last, deep breath and turned to him.

He’d grown. He was taller than you by a head now. His shoulders were broader. His hair was shorter. His hands were bigger, gripping the neck of a bottle of beer. His fingers were longer. You were certain that he was hiding a set of well-defined abs beneath his shirt.

But his face was still shaven - you remembered him doing it with your pink razor in your bathroom one Monday morning before school, when he hadn’t had the time the day before - and his eyes were still the same shade of greenish grey that you’d never quite managed to figure out.

You had to smile involuntarily.

“If it isn’t the prom king in all his glory”, you grinned, hiding your nerves under an all too familiar facade of teasing and flirting. “Just had to make a late, dramatic entrance, did you?”

He grinned as well, resting his elbow on the bar top, his aftershave fully clogging up your senses.

“Well, if it ain’t the prom queen”, he drawled. He paused to look at you. Really look at you, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, and usually you’d think you would feel embarrassed or shy, but Jake had looked at you so many times before that all you felt was a sense of familiarity. You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. The last time you’d seen him, he’d been eighteen years old. But you did nevertheless.

“You look stunning”, he said after a moment. You couldn’t help the heat spreading through your body like molten gold.

“You don’t look too bad yourself”, you smiled - the understatement of the century.

Jake Seresin had always looked just a bit too handsome for his own good. It had got him in and out of trouble often enough. But, well, back then he’d been a teenager, hardly an adult. Now he was grown up. He was wider and broader and older and if anything, he’d become even more handsome, even more attractive over the years: he’d got tan and obviously he’d been working out. His job seemed to be doing good for him.

You couldn’t believe that after all these years, you were standing in front of him again. Looking at a man living his dream, not a boy just dreaming it anymore. He’d been extraordinary back then - now he was nothing short of impressive.

You didn’t know how long you’d been staring at each other. It could’ve been anything from a few seconds to a few minutes. You didn’t mind. You didn’t think you’d have minded a few hours either. Compared to fifteen years, that was nothing.

“I got off the plane two hours ago”, he explained eventually. “Hence the dramatic entrance.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“You got here today?”, you asked.

“Two hours ago”, he repeated with a grin.

“Shit”, you laughed. “What’d you do, miss the first three flights?”

“Had to work ‘till five.”

“Five?” You slipped your phone out of your pocket to take a look at the time. “It’s ten. How’d you get here in five hours?”

His grin widened.

“Kind of my job to be good with planes.”

So he was still as cheeky as he’d been back then. And his accent had hardly changed - you’d dreaded hearing him with something like a Brooklyn one. God knows where he’d spent his time.

But no. He was still your Jake. Your Jake from back then. Jake who’d taken you on an hour-long drive in his car just to go stargazing on a random Thursday night, Jake who’d climbed in through your window when there’d been no reason to, Jake who’d left you his cowboy hat even though it was his most prized possession. Jake.

“Is it your job to get off the plane looking flawless too?”, you asked, heartbeat quickening. You’d never had inhibitions when it came to complimenting him. Sometimes you’d thought you shouldn’t fuel his ego further - though in the end you’d always decided he deserved it. Your friends had been so annoyed with you, but you’d never minded. You’d never minded his arrogant grins or that over-confident twinkle in his eyes. Maybe because you knew that despite it all, he was a big sweetheart, or maybe because it was all just so very justified. Because he was that talented, because he was that charming, because he was that attractive. So why, good lord, why should he not have known it?

“You know I always look flawless”, he chuckled.

“Ah, yes”, you said. “Of course. Always have, always will.”

He paused for a moment. Then he said, “Much like you.”

Your grin widened. He’d never seemed to have a problem complimenting you, either. God - he was here, he was real. After fifteen long years, you were finally seeing him again. And apart from a few differences, it was like he’d never left.

“I missed you”, you whispered with a smile still on your lips. You didn’t leave him time to respond, too afraid that his answer might not be one you wanted to hear, that he might not have thought about you at all. Which you really couldn’t have held against him - it’d been so long you wouldn’t even have been surprised. “Now tell me what you’ve been up to. I want to know everything. If you did become the best pilot the navy’s ever seen, if you did visit every state. If your dream turned out just as good as you wanted it to.”

He did tell you. He told you about the academy, about the planes, about the places he’d been stationed at. (”That’s classified”, he chuckled when you asked him why he was stationed in San Diego now. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”) He told you about the people he worked with, about what a callsign was, about being one of the only ones on active duty who’d shot down enemy planes. But more importantly than that, he told you about what it felt like to fly. About the freedom of being up in the air, about being responsible for only him and his own plane, about power and liberty and about feeling like he belonged.

You had to bite your lip to keep from getting too emotional again. He’d lost none of the charm of the young boy dreaming about all this, about planes, about flying, about how one day he’d be up there himself. He’d promised you - lying on the roof of his car, wrapped up in his arms, staring at the darkening sky and pointing out contrails - He’d promised you that one day he’d do it. You had made him swear he wouldn’t stop at anything to get there.

“You seem happy”, you said when he’d finished, a genuine smile on your lips. He did seem happy. And you were happy for him.

“I am”, he agreed. He looked at you again, looked you in the eyes with an easy grin, voice turning all serious. “Just sometimes think I could be happier.”

You felt the intensity of his eyes stronger, then. Heat rushed to your cheeks. You grabbed your glass more tightly.

“Happier how?”, you asked, a bit breathless, because you thought you knew the answer. But you wanted to hear him say it. Hear him admit that he’d not forgotten about you. That he’d remembered the little girl from school throughout the years. That maybe after the great love story of your lives had turned into just another high school romance, you hadn’t been the only one to stop and ask yourself if maybe it really had been the love of your life, if maybe you had blown your chance of ever finding love like that again.

You’d cursed him so often. After dates, after breakups, after watching rom-coms on your couch with your cat curled up in your lap and Ben & Jerry’s ice cream perched on your leg. Cursed him for ruining men for you so early on, for setting your standards too high, for going away back then, for never really coming back.

Jake reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone. He put it in front of you. You frowned.

“Take off the case”, he urged. Your curiosity won, so you let go off your glass to peel off his phone case - plain black, but you hadn’t expected anything else. A piece of paper came free. You looked up at him with raised eyebrows. When he nodded, you glanced back, dropping the case onto the bar top to unfold the paper. It was barely bigger than your hand and even though it looked torn at the edges, it must have been folded carefully after every time it had been looked at.

You recognised your own scrawly handwriting the very moment you glanced at it, gasping up at Jake, who only grinned.

This is your guardian angel, you’d written, in the middle of maths class one fateful day close to graduation, here to tell you to pay attention. You won’t be a very good pilot at all if you can’t concentrate on what you’re doing because you’re staring at me.

So you’ll be up in the air with me?, he’d scrawled below that.

Always, you’d scribbled. Even if you can’t see me.

You could remember that day well, mainly because that morning he’d been accepted into USNPS, the first step on his way to chasing his dream. He’d pulled up to your house and you’d already been closing the door, but unlike usual he hadn’t stayed in his car, instead he’d come sprinting at you with the biggest grin and you’d already known what had happened just by looking at him, so you’d run at him at full speed, abandoning your schoolbag and jumping up into his arms, drawing him in and kissing the grin right off of his face.

“You kept that?”, you asked with a laugh.

“Of course”, he said. “I took it up with me the first time and came back in one piece. Haven’t flown a single time without it.”

Your teeth dug into your bottom lip. If you weren’t careful, you’d fall back into your old habit and keep at it until you drew blood, but...

“So a piece of me has been up in the air with you every time”, you realised.

“I couldn’t leave behind my guardian angel now, could I?”

You felt a hot tear running down your cheek that you did your best to wipe away without letting him see. He’d not only kept one of your notes all these years (and you’d written each other a ton of those), he’d used it as a lucky charm - Jake, who’d never been religious, much less superstitious. He’d kept it, he’d kept it close to him for fifteen years, he’d taken it up in the air with him every single time. He’d made you a part of his dream even after you’d let him go.

“I actually did write you a letter, you know”, you admitted, quietly, almost whispering. “I did even before they’d accepted you. I wanted to give it to you the day I had to kiss you goodbye at the airport. It said... it said that I had always known you’d do it and that I was sure you’d become the best of them all. That I was always right anyway so you could trust me. That I would always be there for you, no matter how far away you went. And that I’d... that I’d be there even when you were up in the air. I folded it so it’d fit in a pocket. So that you could carry it like a lucky charm even though I knew you didn’t believe in them.”

He was smiling when you found the strength to look at him again.

“Why didn’t you give it to me?”, he asked and for just a moment you thought you heard a kind of sadness in his tone. You shrugged.

“We’d broken up. I didn’t want to make it harder for either of us.”

He paused. You didn’t look away this time. The paper still between your fingers, a chorus of ‘He never forgot’ in your mind.

“But you still came to say goodbye at the airport.”

You took a deep breath. Yes - you had driven to the airport that day, had sprinted to the gate you’d known he was supposed to be at and tackled him just before he could go through security. That was the last time you’d seen him - waving at you as you sobbed, a smile on his lips that you knew he was only putting on to seem strong for you, before he disappeared into the gate and you realised just who you’d lost.

“I couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye”, you admitted. “I had to see you one last time.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“And that didn’t make it harder?”

“Only a bit”, you chuckled, pretending there weren’t tears dropping off your chin. “But it would’ve been worse if I’d had to live with the knowledge that I never got to properly say goodbye. I thought I’d never get to see you again. I mean, we all knew that you’d be successful and that you wouldn’t come back. What’s a little town in the middle of Texas got to offer a multi-million-dollar plane-flying naval aviator such as yourself?”

You glanced from him back down to the paper in your hands, your own handwriting, and folded it carefully again. You couldn’t look him in the eyes anymore, not while you were living through the memories of two beautiful years and one horrible one to get over them. Maybe all this was pathetic - you’d thought so a lot of times before. Maybe it was pathetic that you were clinging on to a boy from high school, to someone you hadn’t seen in fifteen years, to someone you knew - and had always known - you simply did not have a future with. But every time you met someone else, every time you considered the possibility of settling down, of marriage and growing old, you had to think back and compare and god, Jake Seresin really had ruined your love life so very early on. He’d ruined dating for you once and for all. Your miserable attempts at hookups and boyfriends had always ended the same: with you waving goodbye because none of it felt good enough to be called love. None of it came close enough to him.

Jake hooked his fingers under your chin and turned your face to his, his thumb brushing over your skin to wipe away your tears. You bit your lip, the weight of his eyes on yours enough to make your nerves run rampant.

“What about my dream girl waiting back home?”, he asked quietly.

You took a deep breath. Thoughts were racing through your mind at such a speed that you couldn’t grasp a single one - shreds of “dream girl” and “after all these years” and “oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck”. A lot of that last one, really. With how close he was, those too-familiar eyes boring into yours and the feeling of his touch for what was the first time in a decade, you couldn’t even say you were surprised.

“Dream girl?”, you repeated breathlessly, your voice hoarse to the point of breaking. You had half a mind to stay where you were (not that you could move a muscle). He smiled.

“Dream girl.”

Your brain short-circuited.

This was better even than the wildest of scenarios you’d been imagining since you’d got the invite to the reunion - hell, this was better than what you’d been imagining over the past fifteen years. You’d pictured over and over what it would be like to see him again, to talk to him and to touch him again, and every time you had scolded yourself for doing so because it would never happen anyway. Now here you were. And Jake was more breath-taking, more overwhelming than ever, driving you to the edge of insanity with just his presence, a grown version of the boy you’d kept close to your heart all throughout your life, a man now who’d achieved everything he’d ever wanted, and he was telling you, you and no one else, after fifteen years, that you were his dream girl. That you were the only thing this whole town still had to offer, the only thing he was still missing.

You had to close your eyes and take a shaky breath.

“Jake”, you said quietly. “We haven’t seen each other in over a decade. You don’t even know who I am anymore.”

His thumb kept brushing over your skin even after the tears had dried.

“So let me get to know you again”, he muttered.

You smiled. It was like he was plucking the - in themselves very few - doubts from your mind with such care that you felt fuzzy inside. You opened your eyes again to look at him, only to catch him still staring at you, lips curled in something between a genuine smile and a cheeky grin.

“I went to college in California because I had to get away from home for a bit”, you started in a whisper. If he wanted to get to know you, he’d have to make do with the run down of your life for now. “Studied child care. Came back and got a job as a kindergarden teacher here. I got an apartment, I got a car, I got a cat. You know, just like I’d always said. It all worked out exactly like I’d planned.”

Jake raised his eyebrows. His fingers had travelled from your chin to cup your jaw softly, thumb brushing over your cheek.

“So you’re living your dream”, he said.

“I guess so.”

“Impressive.”

“Says you.”

There was a pause - Jake was just looking at you again, smiling, but you didn’t feel like complaining. You never had, you certainly never would. He could spend the rest of his life looking at you if he wanted to.

“Green still your favourite colour?”, he asked. You nodded. If it were anyone else, maybe you would’ve been surprised that they’d remembered but god, it was him, you would’ve been surprised if he hadn’t. He’d remembered every little detail about you back then, from the nail polish you had used to the sound of your father’s footsteps coming down the staircase.

“Your mum’s hot chocolate still the only you’ll drink?”

You nodded again. Your smile was quickly turning into a broad grin.

“Do you still turn the volume all the way up when our song plays?”

You swallowed. And nodded again. Your song - the one that had played in the background for your first kiss, for your last, for your first dance at prom, that time you’d baked in his kitchen, countless more when you’d been driving around in his truck. You had turned it up all the way whenever you’d heard it, no matter where or when. And Jake had pulled you close to him and started dancing with you, twirling you this way and that until you collapsed against his chest, smiling and laughing and kissing him. Even after he’d left, you had always turned up the volume, just now with no one to dance to it with.

“So I do still know you”, he muttered. You paused to examine him.

“And do I still know you?”, you asked, voice barely more than a breath. His thumb on your cheek stilled. Instead you felt him reach for your waist, tugging you closer, so close that you had to tilt your head back to keep looking at him. You felt your breath catch.

“You’ll have to find out”, he drawled.

“I’d like to”, you smiled. “I’d really like to. It’s just... How do we know it’s not gonna end like before again?”

He was so close that you could kiss him now. He felt like home, all familiar and comfortable and cozy, like love and adventure and sparks in your stomach. He was real, he was here, right now, right there, right in front of you, touching you, talking to you. This wasn’t some fantasy - and that was why you were scared.

It was all fun and games imagining it. Imagining that you’d meet him again and fall for him again and that you’d spend the rest of your life with him because he was the only man you’d ever truly love. But this, this was reality, this was the real world with all its obstacles and its difficulties. The problem was that you remembered like it was yesterday how you had broken up - why you had broken up.

Afterwards you’d been sitting cross-legged in the passenger seat of his truck, letting your tears fall and drop onto your shirt, onto his shirt that you’d been wearing, staring out of the window at the sky and the scenery change, blankly for the very first time. You had been hugging yourself, arms wrapped around your torso, and the radio hadn’t been playing - the radio had always played. But not then. He had been driving in silence and you hadn’t said anything either and when he had pulled up in the driveway in front of your house, you had got out without another word and paused just before closing the door.

“I love you, Jake”, you’d said. “I’ll never not love you.”

And he’d said “I love you too. More than you’ll ever know” and then you had shut the door and not looked back at him once as you had walked up to the house, fumbled for your keys and sunken down into a puddle of human limbs in the hallway, sobbing and screaming and struggling for breath.

“Because it was the wrong time back then”, he said now, holding you close to him.

“And this is the right time?”, you asked.

“We’ll have to find out”, he said.

There was a certainty to his voice, a determination in his eyes that told you he wasn’t saying it lightly. Jake Seresin was never saying anything lightly. So despite your fear, you had to smile at him.

“Kiss me”, you breathed.

You didn’t have to think about it, didn’t have to ponder the what’s and if’s or any of the consequences. If there was one thing you knew about him, it was that when he did something, anything, he would come out a winner, because that was just what he did: win. Any situation, any challenges, any difficulties thrown at him. It was why you had always been able to trust him completely, to follow him blindly. Because Jake Seresin would never do something he wasn’t a hundred percent sure of.

So when he pulled you close, when he leaned in, when your heart stopped beating for the moment that his eyes travelled to your lips, when you felt his breath on your skin, the last of your doubts faded away. And when his lips met yours, the last of your thoughts left right with them and your eyes fluttered shut. Because the kiss was soft and gentle, because neither of you moved for a second, because you were holding your breath in fear that this moment might be a dream after all, because he put an arm around your waist and held you close, because your hands found their way to his jaw, cupping his face, holding him there as firmly and as carefully as you could, as if not wanting to break him or maybe just not wanting to break the kiss. Because he tasted like mint and beer and vanilla somehow and because he smelled of sandalwood and spice and something so distinctly him. Because it was so familiar and so new at the same time.

Because when he moved his lips against yours, when he deepened the kiss, your feet suddenly weren’t on the ground anymore, not anywhere near the earth, and if you had opened your eyes you probably would have seen heaven, but you didn’t because why would you have, why would you have with his arm around you and his hand holding your cheek and his lips on yours so perfectly.

There were fireworks going off in your heart, butterflies going berserk in your tummy, warmth unfurling in every part of your body.

He tasted of your very first kiss and your last and every single one in between that, of the memories of so many: your legs wrapped around his waist, waves crashing against your bodies, friends cheering from the beach; your arms around his neck, the hood of his jacket, too big for you anyway, pulled over your head, snowflakes catching on your nose; his fingers skipping over your cheek, pulling you close to him, rain dripping against the umbrella he was holding over the two of you; the warmth of his sweater and a cup of tea, sitting cross-legged on his windowsill, his lips barely ghosting over yours, quickly, softly, as to not disturb your stargazing.

When he pulled back, you were tempted to chase after him for another kiss, but instead you just smiled at him. He rested his forehead against yours, eyes still closed, thumb still brushing over your cheek.

“I waited so long for that”, he muttered. The thought sent a shiver down your spine.

“No longer than I have”, you chuckled. You were still a little breathless and a lot emotional. He opened his eyes and pulled back a bit to look at you, the ghost of a grin dancing across his lips.

“No”, he admitted. “Probably not.”

You wanted nothing more than to bathe in this feeling of joy, of bliss, of finally being back home, but...

“Jake”, you whispered. “Why did you never come see me? You visited your parents at least once a year for Christmas. Why now?”

He pulled away from you, drawing his arm back and his hand from your jaw, and you felt horribly lonely at once, like you’d made some irreversible mistake and hurt him deeply. He grabbed the neck of his beer bottle and took a sip. Your teeth found your bottom lip again and you reached for your long abandoned whiskey glass, fingertips skimming over the rim as you watched him from the side. Eventually, he let out a chuckle and shrugged.

“I was scared”, he said quietly. You raised your eyebrows.

“Scared?”, you repeated. You couldn’t believe that any word related to fear was rolling off his tongue. Jake Seresin was never scared. He simply didn’t do fear. “You? That can’t be.”

He laughed then and looked back up at you and you felt yourself smile, relieved that you didn’t seem to have hurt him after all.

“It’s true. Sadly.”

You grinned and shook your head, still in shock that not only he’d been afraid at all, but that he was admitting it - to you, to himself. He really must have grown a lot over the years.

“So why now, all of a sudden?”, you asked.

He was quiet for a moment, just looking at you, taking in your expression, thinking about your question and how to answer it or thinking about if to answer it at all, you didn’t know.

“I flew a mission two months ago.” He’d gone serious. “A few of us almost didn’t come back. Makes you think about your priorities in life.”

You couldn’t help the lump in your throat or the way your fingers stilled. You’d always tried to ignore just how dangerous his job actually was, what was on the line every time he started the plane. Once you’d asked him about it, about why he would purposefully put himself at risk like that, and he’d looked at you in earnest and asked you if you would not do the same for your dream, if you would decide any different, decide to keep yourself safe with no concern for the children in your care. You’d smiled and kissed him instead of giving him an answer. It had been obvious enough.

“So... you’ve been rethinking priorities?”, you asked carefully.

Priorities. That one word had held so much power all those years ago. It had been the reason he’d left, the reason you’d stayed, the reason you’d let him leave, the reason he’d let you stay. Priorities. Over a decade later and it was still haunting you. You’d done your own fair share of thinking about it.

“You haven’t?”, he asked, a smile tugging at his lips. You had to smile as well, shaking your head slightly as you chuckled.

“I have.”

He raised his eyebrows as if to say I told you so.

“You really think we can do this”, you realised, somehow not surprised. Jake just didn’t take unnecessary risks. He nodded.

“I do.”

It had been fifteen years. Fifteen years that you’d spent without him, without anything - no calls, no texts, no nothing. But here he was and despite what should be logical and reasonable and what you should probably do, you knew that you’d still do anything he asked. If he was serious about this, you would be too. If he thought you could manage it, then you would manage it.

“How long are you gonna be here?”, you asked. He chuckled.

“Two weeks.”

“Already got a place to stay?”

He raised his eyebrows at that, amusement apparent in his expression, and you couldn’t help but grin.

“Not necessarily.”

“Alright”, you said, trying your hardest not to look too cheeky. “How would you like a cozy little apartment with absolutely no room service but a fully functioning kitchen and a very cute alarm at 3am every night called my cat?”

Jake smiled.

“Sounds lovely.”

“You’re saying that now”, you snorted. “Wait ‘till you get punched in the face by one too-big possum.”

“Sounds very lovely.”

You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your whiskey - it was almost empty by now and the clock read half past eleven. Was it acceptable to leave already? You’d talked to most everybody you’d wanted to catch up with so far, exchanged numbers with everyone you wanted to keep in touch with. There was nothing really keeping you here.

“Do you...” You bit your lip, suddenly shy for some reason. Maybe it’d been too long to still feel confident when suggesting something like this. “Do you want to get out?”

His grin deepened, turned smug, and he raised his eyebrows, emptying his beer at once.

“I hear there’s an apartment waiting for me”, he said.

“And a demon possum”, you reminded with a laugh.

“Not to forget.”

Silence fell, comfortable, only for a second. He was here and he was real and he had kissed you and you were taking him home. Taking him home because maybe this time it would last. Because you felt fifteen years younger with him, like a girl in her last year of high school. Because you wanted all that again, everything that since then you had only read of in romance novels and watched on screens. That “love of my life”, that “once in a lifetime”, that “heaven on earth”. Maybe you were stupidly optimistic. Maybe you remembered it all through rose-coloured glasses and the perception of a teenage girl.

But maybe it would be even better. Maybe this time it really would last. Maybe you had, in fact, both rethought priorities. Maybe you had both come to the same conclusion. Maybe this time, love would play just as important of a role for your futures as your careers had back then. Maybe what Jake said was true - maybe this was the right time.

“I’ve got my truck parked outside”, he said, putting the beer bottle down on the bar top.

“The same old truck?”, you asked. That truck had been through a lot with the two of you. You’d been through a lot with that truck. You couldn’t believe it still existed.

“Same old truck”, he nodded. You shook your head as you grinned at him. You’d had your first kiss there, you’d said your first I love you’s there - you’d said your last there too.

So you puzzled his phone back together, held it out to him and drawled:

“Then take me for a ride, cowboy.”

#top gun #top gun x reader #x reader #jake seresin #hangman #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader

985 notes · View notes

kaoreta · 9 months

Text

"That's the Trolls I know..."

Woo-hoo!! First post!

Important Note: Creek's your bf in this

Genre: Angst with a happy ending

Warnings: Use of [Name], Creek's a little shit (but what's new?)

writing under the cut~

Here you all were, captured by Chef in a small cage. At this point you were thinking you were destined to be the bergens food, I mean with Poppy captured too, you’ve almost lost all hope.

Almost.

You had one hope left, it was an uncertain one, but it's all you had…

Your boyfriend, Creek.

I mean you knew he was still alive, maybe he could find some spiritual answer and come free you all! What a miracle that would be, right?

Snapping back to reality, Chef was going on and on about getting enough trolls and making all of Bergentown happy again… Then, Poppy spoke up against her.

“You’ll never find them, not where they're hiding!”

After that, Chef turned back towards all of you, stepping closer, saying she might be able to with someone they know and trust… But, who could that be?

Your question was soon answered as she opened her small bag and took something or someone out of it…

Oh no.

Out came Creek, looking as calm as ever… The others cheered that he was there meanwhile you and Branch stayed quiet, looking towards one another, you both silently agreed that something was up. Branch spoke up about it first.

“He’s selling us out!”

He said as he started strangling Creek with his hair, while the others panicked at his outburst, you watched silently, trying to make sense of this turn of events.

After Poppy stopped Branch and told him to let Creek give an explanation, he simply said…

“I’m selling you out.”

Then it was Poppy’s turn to do the strangling, while all that havoc went on, you looked to the ground. He just confirmed that he was betraying you and everyone else, he was your only hope and now he turns around and does this? It’s just too much…

You lifted your head back up as he explained why he was doing such a thing, closing it out by flirting with Poppy, right in front of you. He didn't even spare you a glance, did you really mean that little to him…?

Only thing you got from him was a smirk and a shrug after he was done, not a single word said…

What an asshole he turned out to be.

When he left with Chef, you backed up into the back of the cage, both sad and furious at this turn of events, sitting yourself down as you hid your face in your knees.

“Yo [Name], you alright?”

You heard Cooper ask, that turned everyone's attention towards you, all equally concerned. You felt like sobbing…

But you couldn't, not in front of all your friends… That would be too embarrassing.

Your body started shaking.

You… can't…

Then, tears started falling from your eyes.

Fuck.

A few tears turned into soft sobs, then those sobs turned into full-on crying, and that crying turned into a meltdown.

Everyone crowded you, trying to comfort you at the same time, just like with Bridget. You only covered your ears as you cried more, all the added noise overwhelmed you.

Shortly after, you heard someone shout “Guys, look!” and they all went quiet… Too quiet.

Slowly raising your head, you looked at everybody, they all looked back at you as if you were a ghost.

“[N-Name]... [Name], I’m so sorry…”

Satin and Chenille both said to you softly, you were about to ask them what was wrong, then you saw your knees…

They weren't your usual bright colors… Raising your hands to look at them, they weren't the right color either…

Your eyes widened as the realization dawned on you.

All your color was drained.

Now your colors were similar to Branch, grayed out and devoid of feeling.

Looking around at everyone else, they all looked sad as well, but luckily their colors aren't disappearing… That was good.

“G-guys, c’mon… I’ll be fine… I think.”

You said to them, trying your best to be positive for them, they all looked up at you, surprised you could say such a thing after all this.

“...They're right, we can't give up now!”

Poppy exclaimed, the rest slowly but surely started to get their usual energy back, agreeing with what she said. You looked at their determined faces with a fond smile.

“That's the Trolls I know…”

#trolls x reader #creek x reader #trolls creek x reader #trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls creek

87 notes · View notes

rafedaddy01 · 1 year

Note

Rafe x goth!reader (super angst but kinda sweet in the middle) they have been rivals since they were kids, both always fighting for who are more dominant in life.rafe secretly loves the reader and will do anything for her but he doesn’t let her know that and maybe they get into it really bad and he makes her cry but he. Makes it up too her

Rivals Turned Lovers

Summary: you and Rafe have been rivals since the beginning of time, what happened when he confesses his feeling to you.

Pairing: Rafe x goth!fem!reader

Notes: there will be some smut in this. I just can’t help it! I need to add smut! I’m sorry if that’s not something you wanted.. but it will include Rafe eating reader out, and penetration, also reader experiences trauma

Rafe and you have never gotten along. There was a strong hatred and it wasn’t gonna change. You two had different friend groups. You hung out with pouges and Rafe with kooks. You were birthed a kook, but at heart you were a pougue and nothing was gonna change that.

Rafe despised pougues and the fact that you were hanging out with them made his hatred for you grow. So you partly hung out with them to piss him off.

When you were younger your parents died in a freak accident so your uncle took you in, but he was never home so you spent most of your time on the cut with JJ, kie, pope, and John B. Youd constantly wake up with nightmares and being around your friends calmed your nerves. So at least one of them would sleep with you constantly. You were grateful for them, you felt like you didn’t deserve them.

Tonight was the bonfire and all of you were at John B’s chateau pregaming. JJ and John b were being their usual idiot selfs and trying to jump over the small fire they’d had started. Pope, kie and you were sitting on a log watching.

“You guys are gonna hurt yourself!” You shouted as JJ jumped and almost slipped back into the heat but caught himself. Everybody laughed as he casually played it off but you could see the fear in his eyes as he realized he almost fell.

“Don’t worry, baby girl. I meant to do that” he winked at you as you shook your head and laughed.

“You guys think Sarah will be there tonight?” John b spoke up. You gave kie a look as you both understood his question. Sarah and John b have been on and off for a while now.

“John b. You need to forget about her. She clearly doesn’t care about your feeling” you said setting your drink down and walking up to him. You grabbed his shoulder and looked into his eyes.

“Agreed. You need to move on dude” JJ said coming up on the other side.

He let out a small sigh of acknowledgment but he was hurt. “Tonight’s about friends!”

“Yeah. Too friends!” Pope said lifting his beer as all of you cheered and drank. “Let’s go!” You said linking your arm to John b’s and dragging him away.

“Ugh. I’m dreading seeing Rafe” you groaned as all of you walked to the beach.

“Fuck those kooks!” JJ exclaimed as he raised his drink and let out a woo after. “Fuck those Cameron’s!” You clarified as you did the same. All of you laughed and continued on the journey.

“Thanks y/n” John b said quietly to you as he squeezed your hand lightly.

You smiled as you looked up at him. You felt like you should be thanking him. All of them really. They took you in when you had no one and have treated you like family. In fact they were your family. You spent every hour of every day with them and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

The 5 of you walked to the beach cheering and laughing and acting stupid like always. You reached the beach when it was dark already and the fire was already started with a crowd of people. There was kooks, pouges and a bunch of tourists who would come with their parents on vacation. You all ran down the hill and gathered in your own little group, passing beers around and continuing the nights fun.

You and kie were sitting on the log and laughing at JJ trying to balance on the other log with his beer can on his head. John b and pope were arguing about something on the other side of you. You looked around at your friends and felt happy for once in your life.

“Y/n” a voice that you recognized all too well broke you thoughts and creased your lips into a frown. You rolled your eyes and tried to ignore the annoying voice pestering you from behind as you casually sipped your beer.

“Your uncle told me to tell you to come home”

“Does anyone else hear a annoying sound or just me?” You said as you took a sip of your drink.

Rafe rolled his eyes and walked off with his bodyguards, topper and kelce, following behind. Not without making a comment of course, “dirty pouges” kelce shouted back at you. Your reached for JJ arm and held him in place.

“Not worth it” you said pushing back down. “I fucking hate them!” He said gritting his teeth. You bit your tongue and nodded in agreement. They loved to play on your emotions, all of yours, and sometimes it was better to let things go.

“I know JJ, we all hate them. But it’s better to bite your tongue than start a cat fight right now” you let his arm go and he slugged down on the sand. You sat next to him and handed him a beer.

Everybody brushed off the kooks and indulged in the rest of the night. Although your mind still raced about your uncle wanting you home. You figured he was back in town, he didn’t even try to get in contact with you, sending Rafe to do his bidding. He knew of your hatred towards the kook and still sent him to search for you.

“I think we should call it a night” kie said kicking at pope and John b who were passed out drunk on the sand. They groaned as they stirred awake. JJ helped them up and you all walked back to the chateau.

“Are you gonna go back home?” Kie asked

“I am home” you told her as you neared the house, she smiled warm heartedly at you and grasped your hand giving it a gentle squeeze. You all entered the house and straight to bed.

“Good night” you said as you turned in the bed next to JJ, who fought with kie to sleep with you. He turned around and pulled you closer.

“Good night, baby girl” he said kissing your head and passing out.

“Good night!” John b, kie, and pope shouted from their rooms. You all passed out, you in jjs arms, kie on the couch with john b and pope. Some might think it’s weird to sleep with a guy but for you it’s not. Their your best friends and it helps subside the nightmares

You woke up in a sweat, imagines of finding your parents covered in blood blinding your vision. Your chest heaving as you looked to your right to see a snoring JJ. You reminded yourself it was just a dream and cuddled up to him. “You okay, baby girl?” He asked. You just cuddled closer and he held you tight.

You woke up to the smell of bacon and a chirpy pope cooking breakfast in the kitchen. The rest of the group at the counter with raging headaches. You sat down next to john b.

All of you had your breakfast and the rest of the day was spent at the chateau. All of you sitting in a circle in the living room passing around a joint. The guys engaged in conversation and you tried to focus, you really did, but your mind raced with the nightmare that attacked you at night. So much blood, your parents blood, and you were covered in it.

Your mind raced with the thought of the house, your uncles house, that was a crime scene. How could he expect you to come back after what happened? It was partially his fault. You were curious to know what he wanted, he never cared about where you hung out but he also never approved of you living on the cut with the scum, as he called them. Your thoughts were interrupted as JJ spoke.

“Y/n? What do you think” all heads rolled your way you tried to focus on what the conversation was before your mind was invaded with the past. Something about.. blood? No that can’t be right, that was your own thoughts.

“I’m sorry what was the question?” You said taking a deep sigh.

Kies face washed with concern at your pale state, you haven’t even noticed your own hands trembling at the side. “Are you okay? She asked scooting closer

“Oh I’m fine” you said smiling at her warm heartedly. kie was the one who knew the most about your past.

“How about we take a break. Pope, will you make y/n some tea” she said more of a statement as she held your hand in hers and gave a gentle squeeze. The boys walked off and it was just you and kie. You couldn’t hold back the floodgates.

Kie pulled you into her and you wrapped your arms around her as you balled your eyes out. “T-there was so much blood kie!” You sobbed out into her neck. She rubbed your back as she held you tightly.

“Shhh, your okay. Deep breaths, just let it out” she soothed. You managed to calm down before the boys came back.

Pope handed you some tea and JJ and John b gave you some cookies that you hoped were store bought because these boys can’t bake for shit. You’ve seen it first hand, JJ almost burned the whole house down when he tried to bake a cake for your birthday. Let’s just say spending your 18th at a fire station is no fun, although you couldn’t complain about all the hunks walking around.

You downed your tea with some of the cookies and it seemed to calm your nerves as you were forgetting all about your dark past. Your main focus was on the debate JJ and pope were having. Something about how pope wants to be a coroner and JJ trying to convince him that no chick is into the dead body talk. You laughed at their antics.

By the end of the night you forgot all about your uncle and your trauma. all of you danced with music blaring, JJ had brought a tourist he met at the bonfire last night and they were getting busy.

He kicked you guys outside but not without you snagging a bottle of whiskey John b had laying around and the party continued outside. The liquid burned down your throat but it was a pleasant burn, one that took the pain away.

“You think he’s almost done in their?” John b said, cringing at the thought of JJ doing it on his bed. You laughed as you handed him the bottle of brown liquid. He took a swig and hissed at the burn. “Don’t worry, we’ll sleep on the couch tonight” you said laughing. The thought of JJ doing it making you cringe as well

He smirked at you and pulled your hand as the two of you started dancing. You knew that all the boys looked at you and kie in that way but they would never act on it, too respectful. But it was fun to tease them. You started pressing against John b’s front, making him groan.

You moved to the beat as you swayed your hips, the alcohol giving you extra courage. His hand gripped on your waist a little tighter as he pulled you closer. You giggled at the ticklish feeling his fingers delivered.

“Y/n!” A voice boomed, making everyone stop

“Uncle? What the hell are you doing here?” You said coming up to him. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here, hanging out on the cut, what would your parents think”

His words cut you like a sharp knife. How dare he bring your parents into this, how dare he even speak about your parents to you. It was this bastards fault they were murdered. Your thoughts blinded by rage. You wanted to kick and scream and run away but you couldn’t. You were frozen.

For a moment it felt like you blacked out, like you were floating in space. Like time didn’t exist until you shook it off and were brought back to the present. Your uncle standing before you and John b, pope, and kie behind you ready to defend you in any way they could.

You knew who to blame for your uncle being here, it was obvious. Rafe. Your mind wandered to the encounter at the bonfire and him telling you your uncles wanted you home. You didn’t think he’d stoop so low. Of course he did. He was Rafe, your sworn enemy. Your rage building even more at the thought of rafe.

It takes a moment to come back to reality. To your uncle pulling you towards his car, you tried to fight his grip but it only hardened the more you fought. You couldn’t go back to that house. That horror. The thoughts of your parents flooding your brain once more. It was no use for John b or pope to help, they’d only get themselves hurt. You sent them a loving stare and they understood to back off.

Good thing JJ wasn’t witnessing this. He’d try to take your uncle down and only end up killing himself in the process. Although you knew he’d try to do something once the others told him about this in the morning.

Your uncle threw you in the car and next thing you know your pulling up to the house. “I won’t go in there!” You said crossing your arms over your chest in a false hope of protection.

He sighed deeply as he took a moment to gather his thoughts. The way he looked at you with a soft gaze made your heartache. As much as you hated him and blamed him, he missed your parents too.

“Fine” you grumbled. You both climbed out of the car and headed towards the house. Your heart thumping with each step you took. Your feet moving but your mind telling you to stop.

You managed to make it inside but you didn’t sleep the whole night. Tossing and turning. Missing the warmth your friends provided. Your mind filled with rage as you thought about rafe. That two faced snake.

You decided that since you couldn’t sleep you’d try to get your revenge tonight. He was only a couple house down, not too far to walk. It was late at night and the house was dark, your uncle asleep. So you decided to sneak out.

You tossed on a black shirt that covered your mid thigh and short black shorts that hugged your waist tightly, you paired them with fishnet stockings and a pair of thick heeled black boots. You climbed out your window that was about 3ft from the ground. Your feet touched the ground and you made way to the Cameron estate. The porch light was on but the house was dark and quiet.

You took a deep breath as you approached the side, where you knew Rafes bedroom was. You climbed up to it to see him sound asleep.

“Bastard” you said under your breath. Rafe had a balcony so there was no window to break through and he left it open, so you walked into his room and laid a punch to his bare chest “wake up prick!”

“What the fuck!” He groaned as he stirred awake. “What are you doing in here?” He said annoyed as he jumped from his bed. “How the fuck dare you tell my uncle where I was!” You screamed at him, being mindful of his parents sleeping. He laughed “calm down, bitch.” He snarled. You snapped at that moment.

Instead of fighting him you fell to the floor in a sob. Rafe looked around confused on what to do. “Hey, hey, hey! Y/n. I’m sorry! Calm down. Please!” He said kneeling down next to you. “I-I- I can’t be in that house Rafe. You don’t know what it’s like” you said hyperventilating. “Shit. I’m sorry! Okay? J-just breath” he said taking a deep breath in and out, helping you calm down.

You looked into his worried eyes and for a moment there was no hate in them.

He held your gaze for a moment before leaning in and capturing your lips in a kiss. It was soft and warm at first, and then his tongue slipped past your teeth and you let him. It felt just as right as it did wrong. He took the pain away with the kiss. You moaned into his mouth and he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and carrying you to his bed.

“I-I love you y/n” he said as he nuzzled your neck and nipped at the skin.

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Rafe Cameron. Your sworn enemy. Loved you? He didn’t let you speak as his lips devoured yours and you let him know what you wanted to say with each stroke of your tongue against his. He laid you down on the bed and unbuttoned your shorts as he slid them down, he wasted no time, tearing your fishnet stocking off your body, leaving you a heaving mess.

“I’m sorry for your pain, and for making you cry” he said as he knelt before you and moved his face closer to your bare pussy. “I’ll make it up to you” he mumbled as he licked up your juices.

“Rafe!” You moaned throwing your head back and tangling your fingers into his hair, pulling roughly and making him groan into your cunt. He lapped at you like a kitten drinking it’s milk until you were a quivering mess under him. He pulled back to stare at your whimpering state. “I need you Rafe” you told him breathing heavy.

“Whatever you want, princess” he said removing his boxers and aligning himself up to your core. “I-I love you too” you gasped as he pushed in. You were feeling a mix of emotions, but one thing you knew was that you loved Rafe and he loved you.

@v21sstuff @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings

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cartoonfanaticmonsterrobotalien · 1 year

Text

Solar Monsters Pt. 4 Epilogue (Old)

(artwork is not mine) Once the Solar Opposites hide, the effects began to wear off as Terry, Jesse and Yumyulack started to transform back to normal.

Terry: breathing in and out as he turns back to normal with the cat device destroyed and fall off of his face Oh my God. It worked, the goddamn device is off my face! I finally got it off! Yes! No more fucking hairball! suddenly spits out a hairball Aw fucking sick.

Jesse: turns back to normal once her wings disappeared Yay! The pain in my back is more! gasp once she notices her dress is half torn and cover it Holy fuck!

Yumyulack: sighs once the steroids disappeared Well, I am sure am gonna miss those muscles. But at least I’m back to normal.

Terry: I’m so proud you two hugs the Replicants as they smiled

Giant Pupa: burps and turns back to normal

Terry: Hooray! We can hug the Pupa now!

Terry and the Replicants hug Pupa as the latter smiled. Suddenly, they noticed a worn out Korvo trying to turn back. Then, they realized they need to put on clothes.

Terry: Oh shit! Kids! We have to put on fully clothes! Quick!

After getting into their fixed clothes, Terry then notices Korvo finally beginning to transform back as Terry and the Replicants runs up to him with Terry carries Korvo’s clothes.

Jesse: touches Korvo’s arm with her hand for comfort Easy there Korvo.

Yumyulack: You’re gonna be just fine.

Ogre Korvo: breathing in and out calmly as he finally turned back to normal

Terry: Oh my God. Korvo. helps Korvo put his clothes on while the Replicants and Pupa look on worriedly It’ll be okay honey.

Korvo: finally back to normal as he breaths in and out It’s over. It’s finally fucking over. We did it fam. starts to feel faint as Terry catches him with the help from the kids The nightmare is finally fucking over.

Jesse: Group hug time guys. I love you guys.

Yumyulack: I love you guys too. But that’s just between us as a family.

Pupa: I love you guys. And I love Baby Shark!

Solar Opposites: D’aww.

Korvo: I love you all. Even though I hate to admit it.

Terry: Aw and I love you honey and you too kids. Come here.

The Solar Opposites gets in a tearful group hug as the sun rises while shedding tears of joy. Korvo and Terry shares a kiss while continuing to hug their children. Suddenly…

Angry Mob: Get the monsters! Yeah!

Principal Cooke: Wait, huh?

The angry mob stops and to their surprise and total shock, what stood the ogre alien, werecat alien, hulk alien, giant baby alien and demoness alien are now the family of five aliens hugging each other.

Kevin: Hey, what happened to the monsters?

Principal Cooke: They’re gone….. WE’RE SAVED! Mob: Yeah! Hooray! Fuck those monsters! Woo-hoo! They’re gone! We’re free! Yay! Fuck yeah!

Jesse: Huh? notices the mob What the fuck guys?

Mob: stops cheering Huh?

Jesse: Guys, those mysterious monsters saved us from Simone, who is now a fucking dead corpse of a woman. But, those monsters are misunderstood. These kinds of beasts have been tormented by a bunch of corrupted motherfuckers who were using it out of revenge. We shouldn’t misjudge monsters for what they are, we should just praise them for they are and try to learn to love them and-

Principal Cooke: Oh my God… what have we done… they’re just poor victims of an evil corrupted force who are trying to live normal lives until someone fucking turned them into ones!

Randall: What kind of people are we?!

The mob starts crying while Korvo and Terry comforts them.

Terry: It’s okay everybody. Those damn heroes are in a much better place now. Whenever they are.

Korvo: Hell yeah. Whoever those fucking monsters are, we’ll always remember them, as heroes.

The mob had a moment of silence while Korvo, Terry and Yumyulack smiled at Jesse.

Terry: That’s our sweet girl.

Korvo: We’re so proud of you and your brothers.

Yumyulack: Awesome speech sis.

Miss Frankie then came in a huff, now furious as she stomps towards the Solar Opposites.

Miss Frankie: WHAT? THE?! FFFFFUUUUUCCCCCKKKKKK?!

Pupa: screams as he hides behind Korvo and Terry while Jesse picks him up

Yumyulack: Uh, you alright Miss Frankie?

Miss Frankie: No! I’m not fucking alright! You fucking aliens ruined everything! I was supposed to teach you guys a fucking lesson!

Principal Cooke: What?!

Mob: What?! Huh?!

Korvo: Uh, what the fuck are you talking about?

Miss Frankie: I was the one who did this to you guys! I was the crook who turned you into monsters, just to teach you guys a thing are too for fucking up our lives the Solar Opposites and Angry Mob gasp in horror I fucking hate you aliens so much! Ugh! To think?! The lies I told! The stuff I took to frame you two! points at Terry and Korvo

Principal: Uh, you’re scaring us man.

Miss Frankie: I even framed you with the stupid BBQ rib pig thing!

Miss Frankie gasp and covers her mouth as she notices the shock and horror from the Solars and the humans. The mob then summon their weapons along with the Solars as they surrounded her.

Miss Frankie: Uh, I was kidding? nervous laughing

The Solars look at each other, clearly disgusted by Frankie turning them into a giant savage beasts and framing them two seasons ago with the whole Peter the Pig thing. So, they got the perfect idea.

Three hours later, Miss Frankie is seen strapped in a rope on a chair while wearing a prisoner outfit with her goons.

Miss Frankie: Uh, what the fuck is happening?

Solar Opposites: showing up with the nets with the fire ants as a punishment PAYBACK FRANKIE!

The family put the nets on Frankie and her goons’ hands as they scream in pain with the crowd jeering at her for what she has done to them, their beloved town and the Solar Opposites.

Principal Cooke: crying while eating a carton of ice cream Why Frankie?

Jesse: There there Principal Cooke comforts Cooke things will be okay.

Miss Frankie: screeches in pain I’LL GET YOU FOR THIS, YOU FUCKING GODAMN ALIEN MONSTERS!

Terry and Korvo gave each other a toast while laughing slyly with a wine glass they drink. Later…

Terry: I am so glad things are back to normal, is on his bed at nighttime with Korvo now we don’t have to be under house arrest anymore now that we got the evidence to the police.

Korvo: clipping his nails while sighing Thank God, that’s fucking over. Things are finally back to normal. The Replicants and Pupa are fast asleep like little baby angels, you and I finally got rid of those awful devices and now we can finally relax. suddenly accidentally clipped the top his toe and roars like his ogre form

Terry: gasp and hugs Korvo It’s okay Korvy. I’m here, your Life-Terry’s got you.

Korvo: finally calming down Sorry Terry, don’t know what got into me.

Terry: It’s okay. Right now, we just need some sleep. kisses Korvo on the forehead affectionately Goodnight honey.

Korvo: Goodnight.

The two adults head to sleep while snuggling towards each other affectionately despite the ruined blanket covers shown from Terry’s werecat form’s teeth and claws and fur too as the credits role.

The End

Note: I hope you all enjoyed this fandom, and I promise you. For those of you who are monster tfs fans and/or Solar Opposites fans, feel free to draw each scene you choose from this 10-chapter event I made this week. Send me some love and no mean comments. And don’t worry, there will be monster transformations from other cartoon franchises soon. See you later! Kudos! 💖

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