#I still have two endings left so fingers crossed the brothers get to talk

[ballads-of-breeze]

Oh my god. The end of the route with Venti. Kaeya slipping away because he’s not a follower of Barbatos and thinks that means he’s not a true son of Mond. Venti essentially telling Kaeya and Traveler point-blank that he’s tired of losing the people he cares about before the ending (I think he’s alluding to the nameless bard’s death before he got to see New Mondstadt + maybe the Ragnvindr ancestor leaving before the same). The poem and exchange at the end where Venti tries to tell Kaeya that it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t follow him and is from Khaenri’ah, he’ll bless him all the same (and what a thing to say to a descendant of the godless nation)!! I am also specifically losing my mind over this line

(Yeah he sure does have stars in his eyes, and the Abyss euphemism is NOT subtle. Kaeya admitted in Caribert that he doesn’t want to be connected to the Abyss, and the poem as a whole is Venti describing Kaeya’s struggle with who he’s meant to be and his fate)

And this one

The thought of not having to live forever in struggle over his identity under the shadow of the legacy his ancestors have left him, and being able to choose the dawn—I can’t help but think this is intentional; the dawn is widely used as a symbol of new beginnings, but it’s got to also be representative of his adoptive family (especially Diluc, whose name origin diluculum apparently means dawn) which is closely associated with dawn.

[i-like-writing-stuff]

grateful [ five hargreeves x reader ]

“Fancy seeing you here,” You crossed your arms, trying to act natural as the boy before you eyes you curiously.

“In front of the CIA headquarters?” Five mimicked your posture, “Jee, Y/N, fork spotted in the kitchen. What are you doing at my work place?”

You sighed, trying to fight back the urge of rolling your eyes. You were lying to yourself if you wanted to say that Five’s sarcasm actually annoyed you. After all, it was one of the traits you loved about him- surprisingly. You hated to admit it, even to yourself, but even if you were actually waiting for him to talk business, you never once missed an opportunity to meet him.

Especially if you weren’t surrounded by your noisy family. The Hargreeves siblings became your family by choice, and as much as you loved each and every single one of them, you couldn’t help but appreciate deeply the one on one time you got to spend with Five.

“I just got off the phone with Luther,” You said, putting your hands in your pockets, “Viktor got kidnapped, Five.”

As soon as those words eat your lips, you saw Five’s expression go from cocky to shocked, to worried and then to shocked once again. You hated you had to be the one to break these news to him, after six years of peace where all of you managed to live normal lives. You hated that you had to see him worried again for his family’s safety, but you had no other choice.

You all had to reunite to save your loved one.

“I’ll drive,” Five nodded, already realizing that the gang would have to get back together.

You and Five met during the JFK mission in 1963, when both of you were working for the Commission. You only heard of him around the work place, but never actually worked together. The Handler assigned you both for the first time to get the assassination done, but one thing led to another and you accidentally woke up in 2019, in your teen body, alongside him.

The rest is history.

As you got into his car, you watched him as he started the engine in silence. He was deep into thought, obviously worried half to death about his brother. You were as well, since Viktor was his first sibling you warmed up to, and honestly it felt surreal that he was in danger again, after six years.

Six years where nothing, and quite literally nothing out of the ordinary happened. After your third attempt at stopping the apocalypse and the Hargreeves losing their powers, you all moved on with your lives, keeping in touch now and then. All nine of you went separate ways, rebuilding your lives. Allison was back to acting, Klaus was finally sober, Diego and Lila were a family with kids, Viktor was running a bar and Luther was working somewhat as an astronaut. Key word, somewhat.

Five became a CIA agent and you were running a marketing agency, so you really only saw the family on holidays or random gatherings. You and him kept in touch the most. You were happy to say that he was your best friend, but sad that nothing more went on. If you were supposed to be together, you would have been by now.

After all, there was this drunken kiss you shared on the night of Luther’s wedding.

“Shut the fuck up, Hargreeves!” You giggled, pointing a finger m at him, “I respect Delores, I swear I do, but I do not understand why in the world she would put up with your ding dong face, honestly.”

“Oh, spare me the reverse psychology in which your jealousy lays, Y/N,” Five smirked, softly waving away your finger in his face.

You were the only ones left on the dance floor, intoxicated over the safe limit. After the whole family went to sleep, the two of you were still left quite energized. You didn’t know if it was because you were sixty year olds back in your teen bodies, or simply too drunk to realize how hyperactive you were, but you were not about to end the night any time soon.

You couldn’t exactly pinpoint the moment you fell in love with Five, but he definitely could write an entire book of how he grew feelings for you. It all happened at such a slow pace, how could he not? When he first met you in 1963 at the Dealey Plaza, he was immediately taken aback by your quick wit and intellect. He also didn’t think someone who looked so sweet and elegant, like the grandma who would take her grandchildren all the time to fancy restaurants and then bake fresh cookies for them at home, could also be a trained assassin, ready to fight off three people at once wearing dresses and heels.

It was love at first sight for him.

Then, when you kept Delores safe from Hazel and Cha Cha, he realized just how big your heart was. He was completely blown away by the way you held onto the mannequin with one arm, while dodging attacks incoming from both of them.

There was also this moment in 1963 when you held him in your arms after he went on a spree, taking out the entire board of the Commission.

He was so infatuated with every single action of yours, so deeply and intensely in love it was actually pathetic to him, to some degree. Now, as his hands were firmly gripping your waist, swaying your hips in sync to the melody on the speakers, all he wanted to do was feel your lips on his, for a first and last time.

“What’s on your mind?” You asked, as your arms were wrapped around his neck. You didn’t know when you got so close to one another, it was all just so natural.

“Ironically enough, you,” He scoffed, making you roll your eyes;

“Only you could make such a romantic comment and at the same time make me want to stomp on your face, Five,” You said amused, shaking your head in disbelief.

Five laughed, looking into your eyes. In his drunken state, he was not thinking rationally as he usually did anymore. He didn’t know for certain if he’d make it out of the apocalypse this time, and after the two attempts at saving the world, the regret of not tasting you was finally getting to him.

He moved his hands up your sides, resting them on your cheeks at last. Rubbing your face gently, Five leaned in to capture your lips, tasting the alcohol you shared all night. You were relieved to finally feel his touch you so deeply craved over the months spent together, pulling him even closer, as if that was possible.

That led to nowhere, unfortunately, as neither of you ever mentioned it again. Like little stupid kids, all these years you both assumed that the other didn’t remember that part, since no one ever brought it up ever again.

“Viktor will be fine, Five,” You broke the silence, watching as his knuckles turned white while gripping the steering wheel, waiting for the green light.

“I just forgot how fucking stressful all this shit was,” Five sighed, letting go, but not looking at you yet, “So stupid.”

“Hey,” You placed a hand on top of his, “We will rescue him and go back to our lives before, okay? Who knows, maybe it’s not even that serious- maybe it’s just some misunderstanding or a real easy mission. We stopped the apocalypse three times, I think some amateur kidnapping will be a walk in the park, okay? Besides, maybe by the time we get there, Viktor will have already handed their asses to each other.”

Five scoffed amused. You did always manage to be the voice of reason in his life whenever the over-thinking got the best of him.

You didn’t have any idea just how grateful he was for you.

[bellarkeselection]

Hey love your page I was wondering if I could have a John request where your the new horse trainer and slowly reader and John fall for each other maybe Beth doesn’t trust her but Kacey likes her ?

Opinions of our Horse Trainer

Twirling the rope in my right hand I held onto the end of the rope with my left. Clicking my tongue I watched the horse quickly running around me in circles. I had been working for the Dutton family for a quite a few months now. Since John Dutton’s youngest son had taken on the position of Livestock Commissioner so they needed someone else to break in the new horses that would come in and I was hired. “Come on, boy. You wanna come at me then let’s go.” I taunted the horse causing the horse to charge at me so I ran climbing up the fence and the horse hit the wooden fence.

“Are you crying to make him want to kick your ass?” Turning my head around I heard a woman’s voice and recognized a girl with her blonde hair. She stood on the outside of the fence wearing a white and grey dress and some heels. “Cause I don’t think you want to piss a horse off sweetheart.”

My hair fell in front of my eyes, and my tan cowgirl hat was close to falling off my head when I was eyeing John's daughter. "You've got to knock the defiance out of him somehow."

"If you say so. I've just decided not to go anywhere near those things...not anymore at least." Beth shook her head at me, pulling out a cigarette.

Swinging my legs over the wooden fence, I climbed back down into the wooden fence, clicking my tongue to get the horses attention again. "Berh, I hate to say this but can you just say what you want to say because I should get back to work here."

"I'm just trying to see what your intentions are with my father." She said quickly before leaving and heading towards the white barn. I saw that John was coming from the barn, but I couldn’t hear their conversation. She smiled at her father. "Hi, Daddy."

John paused in his tracks. "Morning honey, what were you talking with Y/n about?"

"Just trying to see what you see in her exactly." She shrugged her shoulders.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Uh! Beth, don't do this. I don't want to have this conversation with you."

"I loved my mother and it just seems odd for you to be with anyone but her. Even though she's dead." His daughter explained hearing footsteps coming towards the entrance of the barn.

John ran his hands down his face, not thinking this was how his morning was going to start. He removed his cowboy hat, running his fingers through his grey hair, finally seeing that it was Kayce coming towards them. "What are you two talking about this morning?" Kayce asked, tugging his horse to a stop in the doorway.

"How dad is trying to sleep with someone else who will never be as wonderful as our mother." Beth rolled her eyes, kicking some dirt with the edge of her heel.

John cursed under his breath. "Shit, Bethany!"

"Beth, I get that you'll still love our mother. But dad should be able to date other women." The youngest son said back.

The Dutton girl scoffed. "Are you serious, little brother!"

"Yeah, I am, sister. Our father should be able to be happy just like he wants us all to be. He shouldn't just be trying to maintain this ranch without having some sort of love life away from all the work." Kayce declared at his sister, wanting her to see his side of things.

She crossed her arms over her chest, letting silence fill the wooden barn for a few seconds. "So what are we just supposed to be okay with this?"

"Yeah, unless it all goes to hell in the end. But let him try and be happy with someone until the day he gets to be with our mother again." Kayce nodded, tipping his hat at the pair walking forward to put his horse in the stall.

John patted his son on the back when he walked past. "Thank you, son." He then walked in the direction of the wooden fence training area to watch Y/n as she had the horse right where she wanted it to be.

Holding one hand on the top of my head so it wouldn't fall off, the horse slowly bowed its head to me. Raising my free hand, I slumped my shoulders, not noticing John just yet. "There you go, boy. You’re a good horse. You'll do just fine now."

"Y/n, he rather likes you. And he certainly ain't the only one." John tells me with a kind smile, leaning his arms against the wooden fence.

Brushing my fingers through the horse's mane he made a noise where I focused my attention back to John. Leaving the horse I leaned my body against the fence sending him a wink. "Are you asking me to dinner, Dutton. I don't quite think you're daughter would like that very much."

John groaned slightly when he began climbing over the fence and dropped down on the other side in front of me. "To be honest with ya, darling. I don't really care what they think. So if you'll go on a date with me then let's just do it and to hell what they think."

Stepping forward I dropped the rope in my hands cupping his face in my hands and kissed him out of nowhere. "To hell with what they say it is then, John." I mumbled before he drew Mr back in for another kiss not bothered by the knowledge that Beth and Kayce were watching.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

Tag list @whateverthecostner @the-morning-star-falls @rosie-posie08 @hcwthewestwaswcn @kcloveswrestling @kaymudd @nettysworld-madisonclark @elenavampire21

[prncssie]

caution! mdni 13k wrdz, best friend's bother!hobie x black fem! reader, hobie is twenty one, reader is 19, small town in the country, everyone knows everyone, a very brief moment of angst, reader is jealous, misunderstanding troupe (?) but quickly resolved, crybaby reader, kitchen sex w/people in the house, unprotected sex, fingering, handjob, cunnilingus, p in v sex, unprotected sex, facial, cum eating, open ending

miffy's note! this took me like two weeks to write which is so much faster than every other fic i’ve written in a while. i knowwww she has a lot of words but she is my baby and I hope everyone loves her as much as I do. enjoy <3 pls do not spam like my blog if you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the reblogs

there’s a waxy smell in the freshly opened soda shop, one that reminds you of the shiny tiles that line the floor of the high school you graduated from, the high school most people graduated from.

highbury high, smack dab in the middle of highbury hills. it’s the only high school for miles, operating on a set curriculum and generic uniforms. fits right in with the small town vibe.

“do you know what you want?” your long-time friend, maise, glances over at you. she’s a darling thing, curly hair braided into pigtails and tied with two white ribbons. her arms are crossed over her stomach, clothed in a white tank top just barely cropped. “there’s so many options, i can’t decide.”

you sniff, eyes glazing over the yellow tinted menu. your tongue skims over your lips, getting a taste of the vanilla flavored lip gloss. “i dunno. i don’t even think i want anything. i’m too nervous, like i’m gonna throw up.”

maise’s deer shaped eyes find yours in sympathetic understanding. “aw, honey. it’ll be okay. it’s been years, now. i doubt he even remembers.” her hands massage the kinks out your tense shoulders in a tight grip. “you were a kid, anyway.”

“yeah, maybe.” you offer a small smile in return. you find you’re disinterested in the menu, stomach rolling in its queasiness for the anticipated scenario. “i still don’t think i want anything. i don’t think i could keep it down.”

maise just shrugs and orders a rootbeer float for herself. she gets your anxiety but she’s never been the best at helping you through your emotions, even more so when she can’t relate. maise doesn’t have an older brother, not one with an attractive best friend that she used to have a crush on as a child.

with the acrylic, milkshake cup settled between the fingers of your friend, you both move towards the booths surrounding the perimeter of the retro-styled shop.

it’s really, very cute. quaint with pop music softly wafting from the speakers and a red, white, and blue theme consistent throughout. america’s sweetheart is what this place is known as, although you prefer to think it’s talking about a better, more ethical version of the country.

“you have to admit it’s kind of exciting, though.” despite your claims, maise still pops a second straw into the float and settles the cup between you. “i mean, your brother and hobie are coming home today and you haven’t seen hobie in like, two years. the last time anyone saw him was on graduation day, right? and then he packed up and left town. and your brother! he kept contact this whole time and didn’t tell anyone? doesn’t that bother you a little bit?”

you wait until she’s retreated to grab the straw between your thumb and pointer finger and tap a long, drawn out sip. the sugary sweetness does nothing to quell your nerves but it gives you time to come up with a response. “mm, not really. hobie is quen’s friend. plus, everyone knew he was gonna skip town. he didn’t like it here and he made that very clear.”

although your words convey otherwise, there’s a small seed of discomfort in your tummy. it would have been nice to keep you in loop, especially since you were under the impression that you and hobie were somewhat acquainted with each other. after all, he’s been good friends with quentin since elementary school and has known you for just about the same amount of time.

“okay but you’re not even curious? not even a little?” maise tilts her head inquisitively, lips drawn in a pout. “hobie is coming home after being gone for two whole years and you don’t care at all.”

“i didn't say i don’t care, mai. i do care and it's nice that he’s stopping by for a visit but let’s be serious, it’s hobie. in all the years we’ve known him, when has he ever committed to anything?” you turn your gaze towards your baby pink nails, shiny and just long enough to clack against your phone when you text. “i don’t want you to get excited over a summer romance that hasn’t even happened and won’t happen. we’re friends and barely that. his loyalty is with quen.”

you can feel the change in the atmosphere the longer you sit in silence. you’re hesitant to look her in the eyes and find a sudden interest in the condensation trickling down the side of the glass.

“uh huh. so if you feel all of that, why are you nervous? you don’t like hobie anymore, and he owes you nothing. what’s the problem then?” she rests her cheek in the palm of her hand, supported by the elbow resting on the table.

instead of answering her question, your hand smacks down against the table. it echoes in the empty room, filled by only you two and mr. terry, the owner of the shop.

“you know what, i have to go. it’s almost three and quen should be home soon. you know how punctual he is.” you grab your purse and sling the strap over your shoulder.

“chicken!” maise points a finger at you. she’s glowing with a toothy grin while watching you prepare to bolt for the door. “you can’t avoid it forever, honey.”

you brush off her comment with a hug and a wave. “whatever. love you. i’ll call you tonight with the details, maybe. bye!”

you all but run out of the shop, white sundress blowing with the opposing force of your movement. it’s not quite three o’clock yet but leaving is better than letting maise interrogate you further. she’s a riot but she got you pinned up against the wall and there’s nothing fun about being forced to answer her questions and face the music you’ve been tuning out for weeks. at least now you’d have some time to freshen up before the great arrival.

by the time you’re finished primping and set the hot curler down to refresh your styled silk press, you can hear the engine of your brother's lexus rolling into the driveway.

you lean forward and tug the curtains back in a firm grip to peak out into the driveway. between you and quentin, you received the larger room with the connected bathroom and it offered a perfect view of the front yard. said view is particularly handy for times like these.

you watch the driver door pop open, breath hitched in your throat and refuse to make any movements until you get the answers you're looking for.

a polished sneaker makes its appearance and becomes stationed on the white pavement. a body follows, tall and stocky and unlike the statuesque frame you’re subconsciously excited about.

pushing yourself even more to your feet and across the expanse of your vanity, you flick the latch of your window until it clicks to signal its unlocked. you push it up with such force that it soars much farther than you anticipated but that’s the least of your concerns right now.

“quentin!” you yell from your bedroom with a wide smile and a vigorous wave at your older brother below you.

your voice gets his attention and he snaps his head in your direction. “ ☆ !” he mirrors your expression, arms open wide in a hug as if he expected you to fly down into his embrace. he bumps the car door closed with his side. “i’m coming up.”

quentin’s words don’t stop you from flinging your door open, running down the stairs, fingertips grazing the wooden railing as you go. to some it may seem odd to be so cheery over the reappearance of your sibling but he’s your best friend, a staple part of your life to which you’d be lost without. if you aren’t running to the front door to see him, then there’s clearly a problem.

he’s already in the entryway, though, and peeling off his jacket to hang in the coat closet. the pittering of your feet long alerted quentin of your presence so he’s not shocked when you’re throwing yourself at him. “jeez, girl. did you eat a whole cow? you’re strong as shit.” his arm comes to wrap around your back and become settled between your shoulder blades.

“shut up,” you roll your eyes in return and separate yourself from him. you give him a once over, from the two strand twists at the top of his head, across the gray nike tech, and to the pristine white laces of his shoes. “wow, you really don’t look like you belong here anymore. that’s crazy, quen. you’re all grown up.”

“yeah well,” he pushes the closet door closed, waiting for its creaking hinges to silence before continuing his sentence, “gotta get out of this town someday. not you, though. you can stay. it suits you.” quentin’s eyes are filled with a brotherly fondness while giving you a similar once over. “where’s ma?”

you follow him to the bathroom to watch him wash his hands. “at work. dad, too. told me to text them when you get home but, uh, where’s all your stuff?”

quentin flicks his wrists into the sink and side-steps you. he rounds the corner to enter the kitchen, making a beeline for the fridge and popping it open. “oh, it’s at hobie’s place. i figured i’d leave the extra shit there since he has his own crib. do you know what mom’s making for dinner?”

you’re still trailing behind him, now leaned against the countertop with your arms crossed over your chest. when you’re face to face with the source of your turmoil, it’s hard to pretend it doesn’t exist. “so he really is back in town, huh.” it's not a question with the way you say it, staring at your fluffy sandals designated for wearing inside the house.

“mhm. forgot how talkative people here are. news spreads fast.” he pulls out a container of last night's leftovers and sets it beside you, already closing the fridge and moving on to find a plate. when his eyes find their way back to you, he’s surprised to see you glaring at him. “why are you looking at me like that?”

“because i’m a little upset that you didn���t tell me he was coming home. i get it if he didn’t want to draw attention to himself but it’s just me. i thought we were all cool.”

“we are all cool. it just slipped my mind, swear.” quentin bounces around the kitchen. he’s still engaged in your conversation though his sole focus is getting some food in his system but every now and then, he’ll glance at you while scooping fried rice onto a plate. “i didn’t intentionally not tell you. i just had a lot to do with the packing and the whole coming home thing. plus, you just finished your first year of college so i didn’t think you’d care so much. which you also still have to tell me how it went,” he puts the fork in his mouth and sticks the plate in the microwave.

“quentin,” you’re tempted to stomp your foot, no matter how childish it will come across.

“i didn’t exclude you on purpose, ☆ . i forgot and i’m sorry. next time, i’ll tell you as soon as i know.”

you’re somewhat pacified with his response, tossing his words over and over in your head until your concerns are soothed and the gloomy feeling dissipates. “fine but you have no idea what i had to go through with maise today. i swear she had all these theories and speculations about what its going to be like that i could have avoided if you told me.”

the microwave beeps, ringing its alarm that the timer has finished all throughout the kitchen. quentin is quick to take out his steaming plate and make his way towards the table with you still in tow. “oh, maise! how is she? i haven’t seen her in a minute.”

“she’s good. good grades, likes her college, majoring in child development. who cares, though. i want to know about hobie. it’s been two years.” you sit next to him, even going as far as pushing the chairs closer as if the topic needed it, as if hobie is a taboo subject.

“he’s great. he’ll be by later, said he wanted to stop by and see you and then he has to make his rounds.” quen shovels a forkful of food into his mouth. he’s eyeing his plate with an almost blank stare. you’re too close for him to feel comfortable looking at you, expectantly. as if he’s going to drop some big news about hobie’s return.

he's not an idiot. he knows, knew, about your crush on his best friend. it was obvious watching you go through all the childish phases, giggling to clinging onto to him to trying to play it cool. quentin has seen it all and he doesn’t think he can handle watching your excitement grow and dull when hobie ultimately makes his decision to leave. “he’s got that place he rents out when he’s not here. don’t know how long he plans on staying, though. when i asked, hobie said two months so i guess we’ll see.”

you’re blissfully unaware of the idea that quentin’s words are for your sanity, to calm the budding excitement as you gather strands of your hair between the tips of your fingers and stare at the freshly trimmed ends. “that’s nice. maybe he’ll come to the summer festival in a few days.”

that elicits a scoff out of your brother. “fat chance. hobie brown? he’s not showing his face at those things. he thinks they’re capitalistic holidays that prey on children. personally, i think he just really hates this town and is coming up with a bullshit excuse not to go.”

you let the bundle of hair between your fingers go and it drops back towards your shoulder in a soft heap. “did he say that or are you speaking for him?”

“he doesn’t have to say it, stupid. i just know.” quentin points his fork at you, flinging grains of cooked rice in your direction. despite the gross reaction that flashes across your face, all he does is laugh. genuine laughter with his head tilted back, clearly delighted to have bothered his dear sister. “it was an accident. i didn’t mean to.”

“get away from me.” you scrunch your face in disgust and shove the chair away from the table. it screeches against the floorboards with each movement. “you don’t point your fork at someone, dumbass. that’s fucking gross.” you say as you rise to your feet and make your exit, rolling your eyes on the way out.

it’s futile to pretend you aren’t looking forward to hobie pulling into the driveway. behind the closed door of your room, you barely watch the virgin suicides. the volume to the movie is turned down so low, you can almost hear your neighbor’s dog trotting on the pavement enjoying its walk. you’ve even gone as far as to open your window just in case you’d be too preoccupied to hear him as is.

you haven’t bothered to change out of the pretty dress, wanting to give off the best first impression you possibly could. after all these years have passed, it’s nearly critical that hobie sees you as you are, an adult. not because you still harbor feelings for him, but because that’s what you are now. you’re all grown up, just as he is.

quentin’s asleep in his room and offering you no answers as to when his friend is actually arriving nor did he request you to wake up when he does so. it’s only right to assume he’d rather stay asleep when hobie arrives then, isn’t it? especially after such a long trip.

hence why when the sound of hobie’s motorcycle reverberates through the glass pane of your window, you roll off your bed and to your feet with a sudden quickness. contrary to the excitement you greeted your brother with from your upstairs bedroom, you close the window the moment you reach it.

as soon as the white latch clinks shut, you’re flying out the door and down the stairs. the tips of your fingers graze the railing, only truly grasping it when you find yourself losing your balance at the speed you’re moving. if only maise could see you now.

you pull the front door open before hobie has a chance to ring the doorbell with such force, he flinches. there’s still a finger hanging in the air, adorned in silver rings and what seems to be a hand tattoo. that same hand is connected to a body, just as tall as you remember. your eyes trail as far as his shoulders, gaze already tilted upwards and too nervous to continue. it never occurred to you what being face to face with hobie would mean, would entail.

you didn’t think about him and his pine scent, paired with the natural musk of being outside. not once did you even think about the possible changes he’d go through within the past two years. even without looking at his face, you can already point out differences. he’s leaner, more muscles protruding from his tank top. grungier too, with dark wash baggy jorts sitting so low on his waist, you can see the calvin klein boxers peeking through the bottom. if you thought seeing hobie show off his toned stomach was a lot, the sight of the ink on his arm has you at a loss for words. a full sleeve of various line art and doodles.

you’re sick to your stomach.

“you’re back in town!” you finally gain the courage to look him in his eyes and nearly fall to your knees. “and you pierced your face!” your eyes dart between the nose piercing, the lip piercing, and the eyebrow piercing. slowly, you soak it all in, including the shoulder length locs tied into a ponytail. only after all of that do you look him in his eyes, filled with the same warmth and wonder as they were two years ago.

“ ☆ !” hobie’s face lights up with the same childlike glee as before, too. it’s like nothing has changed when he throws his arms around you to envelop you into a tight hug. “you noticed, did you?” he chuckles, deep and smooth right in your ear. unfortunately for you, it sends spirals into your stomach.

“do you like them? i want to get my tongue pierced this summer, too.” he finally pulls away and reveals his toothy grin, full of dazzling white teeth that can only come from regularly visiting a dentist. “but how have you been? i haven’t seen you in forever. you’re so . . .” he gives you his own once-over, much shorter than the one you gave him, “not a little kid anymore.”

you aren’t too sure what to make of that but you step aside anyway to welcome him into your home. suddenly, you’re far more nervous than you were at the mere thought of hobie coming over. he was intimidating just as a concept but in person? he’s even worse. he’s too pretty and composed. “i’m so not a little kid anymore?” you try to offset your awkwardness by turning the situation back to him.

“yeah. i mean, you look nice, ☆ .” hobie stands with his hands in his pockets and a lazy smile. there’s not one ounce of embarrassment or hesitation written on his face. however, it oozes out of you. “so, where’s your brother at? he’s supposed to be going around town with me. it makes it less weird if we’re both there.”

“oh, quen fell asleep a few minutes ago.” you say with your back to hobie, disguising your reluctance as a sudden interest in turning the lock rather slowly. “you’re welcome to wait until he wakes up but he’s out cold.”

hobie clicks his tongue with a sigh, eyeing the walls of your childhood home. it’s still lined with the same family portraits and kindergarten crafts. there’s even his own graduation picture on the mantle, sandwiched between yours and quentin’s. he snorts at the sight, dressed in the same black graduation cap and gown but missing some of the cords adorned by the others. not only was hobie not too involved in the community, but he merely did what he had to in school with the exception of a few clubs and hobbies. “no, he’ll probably be knocked for a while. i’ll just do it later, i guess.”

you nod, hugging yourself in a tight grip. your act to self soothe during your one-on-one isn’t very effective. the air feels thick with tension. you have the impression that it’s one-sided because hobie turns to face you. 

“how about you come with me instead? we can ride around and go to that one park we used to go to as kids.”

for a moment, your heart drops to your feet. staring into his eyes does nothing good for your nervous system. as much as you attempted to convince both maise and yourself that you harbor no feelings towards hobie at all, everything in you is screaming otherwise.

your eyes settle on the floorboards and you sniff. “i don’t know. i don’t think i’d feel comfortable on your bike. don’t you have to wear gear and stuff?”

“well, yeah i’m supposed to.” he shrugs. his head is tilted to one side. “i don’t, though. not here at least. if i’m on the highway or in a big city then yeah but not here. nothing ever happens here.”  parts of the hobie you subconsciously fear appear as a shadow on his face. the corners of his mouth twitch downwards and his eyes become clouded, but only for a second. “we can take your car if you’d like. i saw it in the driveway. it’s cute.”

he’s referring to the little volkswagen beetle parked just outside with a tan exterior and a decorated interior. it’s full of flower vent clips, pink seat covers, and scented with gain car air freshener.

“um,” you busy yourself by smoothing your hands over the skirt of your dress. suddenly, you’re reflecting on the fact that you are somewhat dressed up. sure, you curl your hair and wear cute dresses on the regular but never have you worn a cute dress, curled your hair, waited for someone to come over, and beat them to the door before they could announce their arrival. “sure. i guess we can do that. i don’t want you to think you have to, though. you came for quentin and he’s asleep so don’t force yourself.”

you’re surprised when hobie laughs, nose wrinkling with genuine enjoyment. he shakes his head and places his hand on your shoulder. it engulfs your skin like a warm blanket and gives you a squeeze. “never change, okay? you’re so sweet. get your keys and let’s go.”

there’s a strawberry field just across the park guarded by a wire fence. some kids gather around the edges and pluck the berries off the overgrown branches that poke just close enough for them to reach with their little fingers.

the breeze carries the sounds of high-pitched laughter and squeals from the children running about. with school just recently letting out, the park is well occupied. it’s a surprise to no one to see a crowd of elementary schoolers running around the slides and pushing each other on the swing.

you sit at a bench. the metal is warmed from the sunlight beaming down. you have your phone in your hand, pumping out back to back texts to maise filled with terrible grammar and even worse spelling. to say you're panicked would be an understatement. you’re more than panicked. you feel so wrong about being here, more or less alone with your brother’s best friend. the same best friend that you’ve had the biggest crush on for years, only for him to disappear and for you to assume everything you’ve ever felt and thought would be gone with him. the same best friend who’s return brought back the juvenile feelings from your youth.

he’s gone to the ice cream truck parked in the parking lot to buy you both popsicles and therefore, giving you about five minutes to figure out your game plan. maise is no help. most her texts consist of “i told you so” and laughing at your inevitable demise. you feel just about ready to melt into the pavement and through your phone across the park, in no particular order. your nails just might break your screen with the amount of force between each push.

“are you mad at someone?”

you're quick to turn your phone off in the amount of time it takes for you to look up at hobie, standing in front of you with two popsicles, one in each hand. “huh? oh, no. it’s just maise. she’s being so stupid.” the frustration has yet to dissipate and your face shows it, huffing a breath of annoyance. “you’d think you ask someone for advice and they’d actually give it to you instead of making fun of you.”

“mm,” hobie has a seat next to you. he hands you the powerpuff girls popsicle, very obviously supposed to be styled after bubbles. its still in it’s wrapper and it’s a good thing at that. already the popsicle began to get a little soft in the summer heat. “advice about what?” he, himself, holds one of those spongebob ones that never come out right. for a moment, you consider that perhaps he’s reminiscing about the days where you, quentin, and hobie would run out at the sound of the ice cream truck and get the silly cartoon popsicles, only to compare who’s looks the worst.

“oh, just about my classes. i don’t know if i want to take one of my electives or not.” you spit out the lie faster than you can really process it. you peel the wrapper off the popsicle and stick it in your mouth to give you an excuse not to speak.

“i definitely can’t help you with that. i didn’t go to college so i really wouldn’t know.” for a brief moment, hobie finds humor in the distorted face of his spongebob popsicle before taking a small bite of the cold corner. “what’s it like? do you like it?”

the question makes you sigh. there really is no response you can give him that would push the conversation forward, especially when you have been asked the very same thing so many times by almost every adult in your life. “um, it’s okay. it’s hard, y’know, to find the motivation to make myself go to class and there’s always some sort of drama going on between someone and someone else.” you reminisce on the boy and friend drama you’ve both witnessed and experienced from a bittersweet perspective.

hobie nods, watching a group of giggling ten year olds run by. they seem to be participating in a game of tag, their cheeks rosy and eyes glistening with what can only be found in childhood. “can’t believe you’re in college now. that used to be us, playing at the park and then going to your house to have dinner.”

you don’t mention that hobie didn’t come to your graduation. instead, you kick a rock by your foot and change the topic of the conversation. “so, if you don't go to college, what do you do?”

“i’m a server at a restaurant. it makes pretty good money, actually. i can afford a one bedroom apartment in the city so i don’t mind. i’m in a band now too and sometimes i make stuff to sell.” he pulls out his phone for a split second to check the notification that vibrated in his phone before sliding it back into his pocket.

you’re grateful that he doesn’t outright tell you what he makes so you’re able to participate in the conversation and ask him, “what kind of stuff?”

“oh, like paintings, crochet stuff, stuff like that. arts and crafts that people like to buy. it does pretty well since that kind of thing is trending.” 

the conversation falls a bit flat after that. you fault yourself, too self conscious to relax around him. a part of you is overjoyed to have him back and another part of you feels like a neglected afterthought. all this time, hobie was doing just fine. he was living his life and choosing who to keep contact with. it hurts your heart that he didn’t consider you at all but is so comfortable with returning and acting like nothing has changed. perhaps he didn’t take you as seriously as you would like.

“oh, that’s cool.” you try not to sound too sour when you say it. “it’s great that you made a life you enjoy.” you watch a blue drop of melted popsicle roll down and drip onto the white plastic gripped between your fingers. gravity continues to pull the droplet down towards the stick and it stains the wood blue.

hobie glances at you, eyebrows knitted together. he takes in your expression and the subtext behind it. it’s obvious what he’s doing behind his scrutinizing gaze. “yeah? you can be honest. you know that, right?”

“mhm,” you nod with a hum. you’re not interested in engaging any further with the topic. instead, you eye a ladybug crawling on the bench armrest. it’s not like you planned on discussing your deep emotional feelings with him anyway, especially not here. “i’m happy for you, really.”

you can still feel hobie’s eyes boring into the side of your face but the feeling does nothing to capture your attention and turn your head back towards him. instead, you nearly praise whatever higher power caused your conversation to be interrupted by an onlooker.

“oh my gosh, hobie brown!”

you both turn your head to the perpetrator. hobie is just as surprised as you are to see magnolia, from high school, walking up to you both. you don’t know her very well considering she was in the same graduating class as your brother but you’re aware of her.

truthfully, you’ve never liked her very much during your younger years. you despised the way she’d cling onto hobie and quentin, often forcing her way into their circle. at least, you’d consider it forcing. quentin always told you not to worry about it.

here she is again, forcing herself into your hangout with your supposed friend who’s there with you. she’s grinning as she walks up to you both, hands planted on her waist. you so badly want to judge her for her outfit choice but you know you can’t. it’s not like you don’t know what type of person magnolia is and how much she pushes the social standards most people operate with. still, something vile twists inside you and even more so when you catch hobie’s eyes wandering across her body.

that is also no surprise because you know their history. of course hobie wouldn’t be able to deny himself from staring at magnolia like this when she’s wearing daisy dukes, a tiny shirt, and so ready to reopen the book of their past.

“look at you. can’t believe you didn’t come by the moment you got back,” she teasingly smacks his arm with a tinkling laugh. her eyes briefly drift to your direction and she smiles out of politeness. “oh hey, sugar. tell your brother i said hi, would you?”

you nod and pull your lips tight. suddenly, what interest you did have died a painful death and you turn back to the ladybug as your only comfort. unfortunately, that too is gone and you’re left with nothing but the ability to listen in on a conversation you want nothing to do with.

“aw, maggie. don’t worry, i’m still planning on it. you’ll get a very special and personal visit, just for you.”

“promise?”

you nearly choke, face scrunching up in disgust. you’re not five and can read between the very obvious lines. you feel the need to remind them that you are quite literally right there and swallow the green monster making a nice home in your heart. “i don’t mean to interrupt but i have to get home and get ready for dinner. do you want me to give you a ride, hobie, or are you good?”

you try to hide your disappointment before hobie can say anything. you can tell by his hesitation and expression what decision he’s going to make, glancing between both you and magnolia. he’s going to spend some quality time with her. “i think i’m good but you should get back. drive safe, okay? text me when you get home.”

“okay. then, i’ll see you later.” you rise to your feet and dig your hand into your purse, searching for the keys to your car. “bye magnolia. it was nice seeing you again.” her words of the returned gesture fall on deaf ears as you turn and head back to the parking lot. there’s a frown etched on your face and you dump the mostly-eaten popsicle into the trash.

it never crossed your mind that you’re not the only one who is looking forward to hobie back around. you’ve been so used to viewing yourself as the center of the universe that not once did you think about literally anyone else who has been involved in hobie’s past.

you pull the door open of your car and get inside, staring out of the windshield. you feel so teenage girl romcom movie but you don’t know what to do about it. one half of you wants to sob and rot in your bed and claim your heart is broken and the other part of you just wants to go home, eat dinner, and call maise.

you sit there like that for a few minutes before eventually turning on your car and starting the drive home. sza blares through the radio and is your only solace on your lonely drive home.

“no! and then she just shows up and takes him?” maise pulls out two small boxes of sour patch kids out of the plastic grocery bags on the counter. her eyes are wide and she’s hanging on to every part of your story.

it’s been about a week and a half since that time in the park with hobie and you’re still reveling in the emotions of it. you have yet to make a decision on how to conduct yourself around him and as a result, have begun to avoid him. you find it’s better not to be near him at all than to stand there and know that he wanted you to leave him so he could probably have mind blowing sex with his small-town fling.

“she just walks right over and he basically starts drooling.” you’re also unloading various snacks and a liter of soda from the grocery bags. tonight, you both plan to watch movies and eat junk food until your tummies are threatening to burst and you’re both ready to pass out from exhaustion. “i’m so stupid. i should have known. we weren’t even in the same crowd back then. why did i think anything would be different now?”

maise pities you just a bit. she sympathetically presses her lips into a pouty frown and reaches over the counter to grab your hand. “poor baby. in your defense, you have more of a southern belle, sweetest girl in town thing going for you and hobie is the exact opposite. it makes sense why he’d go for magnolia. you two have nothing in common and you’re virtually inexperienced.”

“i have experience!” you begin to pile the various snacks into the bin you brought down from your room just for the special occasion. “i have plenty of experience.”

“you had one situationship for half of your first year of college that treated you like shit. that’s not experience, babe. that’s trauma.”

you whip your head to give maise a pointed glare at bringing up what you’re trying so hard to forget. that chapter of your life is over and it died the moment the academic year ended. “okay but the point is, i am not a baby and i bet i could fuck just as good as she can. he just sees me as a little girl and i can never change that.”

“so what are you going to do?” your friend leans against the counter on the opposing side of you. she crosses her arms over her chest after adjusting her black leggings as they have risen above her ankles.

“nothing,” you say with a sigh. you grab the basket and hoist it onto your hips. “like i said, he sees me as a child. i’m just going to do what i’ve been doing, nothing. ignore him. just keep my distance until he goes home and forget all about him.”

what you don’t tell maise is that magnolia isn’t the only one. sometimes, the habits from your childhood return and you sit yourself at quentin’s door with your ear pressed up against the wood. you listen to his conversations with hobie, sometimes on the phone and sometimes in person, about his recent endeavors with the locals in town. so far, there has been at least one other girl since magnolia. whether he bounces between spending his nights with the two, you’re unsure and you don’t think you even want to know.

maise begins to open her mouth to say something but snaps it shut at the sound of the front door opening. there’s an irregular pattern that comes from two people coming through the door and for a moment, your face flashes with panic.

“i’m beginning to hate going out with you. every single time there’s always some girl ready to — oh hey.” quentin stops in the middle of his sentence as soon as he spots you standing in the kitchen. he jumps a bit, not having expected to see both you girls watching him walk into the house. “what are you doing here, maise?”

“we’re having a movie night.”she rises to standing and positions herself at your side.

“the sun is still out.” quentin lifts a finger to point to the window with the blinds open. sunlight streams through the trees of your backyard and reaches the living room.

“yeah. we just came back from the store and now we’re pregaming by talking shit.” she throws an arm around your shoulder, taking notice of your silence and lack of movement. it’s almost like you’re not breathing and it’s definitely because hobie is standing right there in all his glory, smiling right at you. maise using her grip on you to subtly nudge some sort of humanity back in you.

“anyway,” you clear your throat and take a sudden interest in reorganizing the bin of snacks, “we’re going to get going. we have a lot of girl stuff to talk about so see you later.” you take maise’s hand and take the lead in walking past the two and up the stairs of your house. you don’t miss the quizzical looks from both men at your hastiness to get out of being around them.

frankly, this isn’t the first time you’ve made a bolt to get out of being in the same room as them, but only when hobie is around. however, no one makes a move to question it and lets you do as you please. to quentin, it’s a sign you’re no longer hung up over his best friend and is far better than getting your hopes up for nothing. to hobie, you’re abhorrently avoiding him for some reason and he can’t stand it at all.

it makes him antsy, as if there’s some big impending doom coming that he won’t be able to stop. it makes him uncomfortable to see you get along so well with others and flee the moment he steps into the room and oddly enough, it’s only ever started happening since that one day. was it something he said or did? surely it can’t be because he didn’t accompany you back home. after all, you did text him to let him know you made it safely like he requested so he thought everything was fine. what is going on with you?

it’s somewhere between the hours of two and three am when you make the decision to trek downstairs for a cold glass of water. maise had fallen asleep on the left side of your bed a half hour ago and you had beaten her. you won by staying out longer than she did and decide to reward yourself with a neutral drink to wash the syrupy taste out your mouth.

the house feels awfully cold during such hours of the night and you regret leaving the warmth of your room in your oversized shirt and little pink shorts. both of your parents came home hours ago, wished you a fun night and retired to their beds in preparation for work the next day. you’re assuming no one else is awake with the only other options being quentin and hobie, if hobie is even here.

you sniff and rub your hands along your arms as you round the corner and enter the catch. in the darkness of night and with your squinting eyes, you use what spatial awareness you have to guide your way to the glasses in the cabinet.

you just manage to wrap your fingers around it before there’s some sort of shuffling behind you. you’re unnerved, almost dropping the glass in the time it takes you to look over your shoulder at the perpetrator. “hello?” you try to make out the form in the dark and find purchase in the knife drawer in front of you.

“it’s just me.” the voice is gruff and familiar and washes over you like a relaxing wave of warm water. “sorry, i wasn’t trying to scare you.”

“hobie?” you lean towards him to make out his figure in the shadows. the moonlight does little to aid in visibility. there is only a pale light struggling to come through the window. you have to reach over and turn on the stove light just to see him since your eyes have yet to adjust. “i thought you went home?”

“i did. i went to see my parents and it went just about as well as i thought.” hobie takes a seat at the bar stools behind the aisle. he seems strained, running his hand over his face with a sigh. “so i came back because i like it here more.”

“why didn’t you just go to your own house?” you feel a little underdressed in your attire all of the sudden. sure, you are preparing to go to sleep and in the comfort of your own house but you’d hate to give off the impression that you’re walking around without pants on.

“because i like it here more. pretty sure i said that,” now he’s rubbing his eyes, sitting up to lean against the back of the chair. “if you’re getting a glass of water, can you get me one too?” hobie’s lips turn up into a small, sad smile. his eyes look tired, worn out from whatever went down at his parents’ house.

you forgot all about the glass in your hand, looking down at it as if it’s appeared from the ether. “oh, you can just have mine. i’m probably going to go back to bed.” you’re still dead set on ignoring hobie. for one,  it makes it so much easier to get used to the feeling of disappointment that he doesn’t see you when you literally don’t have to see him. not to mention, it’s difficult enough to look him in his eyes but to be alone with him and look him in the eyes? you have to go.

you set the glass down on the island and slide it over to him, prepared to take a quick and silent walk back to the safety of your room and your best friend asleep on your bed. “goodnight, hobie.”

you don’t make it very far before hobie is speaking to you, again. his gaze is following your attempt at escaping him and it’s annoying him that this is probably the thousandth time you’ve evaded him. “what is up with you? i’m clearly going through something and would benefit from talking about it with someone. i literally just left your house and showed up again and you’re not even going to ask me how i got in?”

you try to not huff when you turn to face him with an eyebrow quirked. “what are you talking about?” you clench your hands into small fists, only to flex them and release what tension you carry.

“what am i talking about? you speak like, five words to me now. i don’t know what i did to make this happen and i’m sorry but you’re literally avoiding me. you came down here for what, a glass of water? you gave me yours before you even got one and now you’re going back upstairs so you don’t have to talk to me. what did i do?”

you shake your head at his words. he’s not wrong. you have been avoiding him and looking for any way out not to speak or be around him more than you need to. still, hobie doesn’t have to bring it up. he shouldn't have brought it up. what are you going to do now? “i still don’t know what you’re talking about. i haven’t done anything to avoid you. i just don’t want water anymore and i want to go back to sleep.”

hobie presses his lips together. he’s doing his best not to stare at you with hardened eyes so he turns away, looking at the countertop instead. his frustration is palpable but he’s sensible enough to restrain himself, to keep himself from turning it into an argument. “okay, go to sleep then. goodnight.” he taps his nails against the side of the glass, listening to the little plinks ro distract himself from the unrest in his soul.

you stand there, staring at the back of hobie’s head even though he’s dismissed you. you’re free to go with no repercussions but the guilt from doing so while knowing he wanted to talk about whatever is plaguing him is too much to handle. “oh my god, fine. what is it? what happened at your parents'?”

your feet drag all the way towards the island and you sit on the bench beside him. you rest your hands in your lap and stare at the numbers reading back the time on the stove. they’re green and a great source of something to look at that isn’t hobie.

“no, it’s okay. you don’t want to hear about my problems because it’s such an inconvenience to you. i’m just going to sit here and mope, maybe cry, and go home.”

“don’t piss me off.” you tsk, picking a strand of string off your shirt. your eyes cut to him in a sideways glare, urging him to talk and quickly before you change your mind. “what’s wrong? what happened?”

hobie pokes his cheek with his tongue. he stares at the ceiling before slowly closing his eyes. “i dunno, man. it was so bad. they think i’m a disappointment or somethin’. it’s written all over their faces.”

“that’s not true. they probably were just overwhelmed that you came home.” you do your best to reassure him but even you know that’s probably a lie. hobie’s parents disapprove of him, everyone knows it. they’re embarrassed their only son turned out to be some sort of punk neanderthal and actively denounce him in public.

“don’t kid yourself, dove. my parents hate me and you know it. we all know it. i went over and they practically screamed it in my face. we had dinner for five seconds and got into a screamin’ match about how i let everyone down by runnin’ wild in the streets.” he’s squinting now. “when have i ever run wild in the streets?”

you can only shrug, unable to give him a response. you don’t know what to say to him. there is no denying what he experienced. all you can do is listen and shrug. “i’m sorry about that. you’re not a disappointment. they just can’t understand why they like it here so much and why you don’t. that can’t be easy to understand.”

“yeah well, i’ll get over it. i’ll just stay away from them and they can stay away from me and we can all pretend we aren’t related.” hobie doesn’t sound bitter, he sounds defeated. he sounds like he’s been down this road many times before and expected an outcome no different than before. however, it’s only natural for a child to wish for their parents to understand them. “anyway . . .,” his head lolls to the side until he’s looking at you, staring at you, “why are you avoiding’ me?”

your lips curl into themselves and you feel the need to excuse yourself. “i’m not avoiding you. if you’re done with your rant, i’m going to go to sleep now.” you go to rise to your feet but your attempt is short-lived when hobie catches you with his hands on your shoulders.

“yes, you are. look. you’re trying to do it right now. you’re tryin’ to leave because i’m confrontin’ you about it. i’m not going to stop pressin’ you about it until you tell me.”

one look in his eyes and you can tell he’s serious. hobie has caught you alone in the dead of night. he’s got you face-to-face and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it but lie or tell the truth, neither of which would work here.

“i’m not avoiding you, hobie. i just –,” you avert your gaze until you’re looking at literally anything else, “– i just think it’s best if we keep a distance and remain cordial. we don’t have to be friends because you're friends with quentin. you don’t have to feel like you have to be friends with me.”

“what?” the man lets you go. his arms drop back into his lap and he’s looking at you as if you’ve just proclaimed your undying love for present day denzel washington. “where is this coming from? you’ve always been a friend of mine. we grew up together. just because i’m closer to quentin doesn’t mean we aren’t close at all.”

you rack your brain to find a way around the real reason by cherry picking the words until they form a sentence that makes sense. “well, yes but i’m not like you. i don’t think there’s anything you – i just – we aren’t the same. we’re in very different crowds and i don’t want you to force yourself to get along with me.”

“okay, we’re in different crowds. what’s that supposed to mean? i’m friends with you because you are different from me. if i didn’t want to be around you or anyone who isn’t the exact same as me, i wouldn’t have come home. you’ve never been insecure about our friendship before so what’s going on?”

you’ve just about reached the end of the line. you’re frazzled and unable to keep pumping out excuses. he’s just going to disprove every single one and deny you a reason to run away. he doesn’t get it and he won’t get it. there’s only one option left to do. every ounce of your soul is screaming at you not to, already burning from the humiliation but as far as you’re concerned, you have no other option. “you don’t get it. jeez, hobie, you’re so stupid. obviously, i’m avoiding you because i have feelings for you and you don’t feel the same. i don’t want to be around you when i know you’re just going to go out and fuck every girl in town.”

your little spiel is followed by silence. while what weight was lifted off your chest, your hands are beginning to sweat from the anxiousness. still, you’ve already said it and you can’t back down so you sit firm in your decision. your eyes still begin to water from the overwhelming emotion that comes with speaking your mind like that and being met with absolutely nothing.

finally, hobie tilts his head. “fuck every girl in town? what are you talking about? is that what people are saying about me?”

you burst into tears, partly because you took that as rejection and partly because you think he doesn’t care. he just brushed off everything you said to talk about his sexual endeavors. “you’re so mean. you’re so mean and you hate me and you want me to die,” you blubber through a watery gargle. your hands are unable to keep up with the tears that stream down your face. by the time you brush one away, there’s another one that takes its place.

“oh my god.” hobie’s eyes widened in shock at your immediate reaction. it happened faster than he can blink and he’s terrified that someone is going to wake up, find you crying, and blame it all on him. “why are you crying?” he pulls you into an embrace, tucking your head beneath his chin and into his chest. despite what many would think, his skin is awfully warm to the touch and it would have been comforting if he didn’t stomp on your heart.

“because i just spilled my deepest, darkest secret to you and you don’t care. you’re bragging about how many times you got laid instead of having human emotions.” you only sob louder as he runs his fingers along your spine in what’s supposed to be a soothing manner.

“i’m not bragging about anything. i haven’t even fucked anyone since i’ve been here. where are you getting your information from?” hobie can’t decide whether or not he’s concerned or humored. he lifts your head, but only briefly, to wipe the tears on your cheeks. the moment he sees your lip tremble, he allows you to go back into the comfort of hiding against him.

“i don’t have to get my information from someone. i just know. you literally left me for magnolia and i know that you’ve been seeing some other girl. plus, quen was saying something about every girl and you when you walked in.” your words are muffled in his shirt. you feel a little guilty because of how wet it is but then you think about how hobie wronged you and wish you soaked it with your sobs.

“okay, first of all, i did not fuck magnolia. i’d have to bash my head with a brick to consider doing that. second of all, i’m not seeing anyone. i’m trying to get a temporary job while i’m still here and i have to suck up to the manager because she doesn’t like me. and why is it my fault that people like me? i can’t stop them from liking me and i can’t stop someone else from talking about it. you’ve misunderstood every single thing and now you’re yelling at me.”

you sniffle and tilt your head up. there is suspicion and doubt written all over your face. “so if you don’t like magnolia like that, then why were you looking at her like that? like you were thinking about taking her clothes off.”

hobie reels his head back, giving you a similar mystified expression. “girl, what are you talking about? if i was looking at her any sort of way it was probably because she was standing in front of the actual sun and I couldn't see. i wear contacts and i forgot to put them in. you know i wear contacts so now i’m confused.”

for a moment, you don’t say anything. you sit there and replay his explanations over and over again, searching for any holes in his story. you slowly run your tongue over your lip as the embarrassment slowly sets in. he’s right, he does wear contacts. he got them senior year of high school and you suppose you just forgot. you forgot and cried and went on him for no reason.

hobie watches you come to the realization. he can tell it’s dawning on you when your face relaxes and forms into one of mortification. this is where he decides it’s humorous to him. it’s even more hilarious when he adds the cherry on top. “and your deepest, darkest secret? i already knew. it’s not really a secret if everyone knows.”

that brings you an entire new wave of waterworks but instead, they build and build in your waterline until they eventually spill over in an occasional spill. “so you knew this whole time and let me embarrass myself? and you’re rejecting me?”

hobie reaches off and tears a paper towel square off the roll. he shakes his head, bending the square into a smaller one. he uses it to dab your cheek with a tut of his tongue. “you have to stop crying. i can’t talk to you when you’re refusing to listen to me. at least cry silently or ask questions that i can actually answer.”

“no,” you take the square from his fingers. really, you snatch it and use it to clean your dribbling nose. “i’m so mad at you. i don’t want to talk anymore.” you take this chance to get off the bar stool and move towards the trash can. you’re still sniffling and occasionally gasping for air while you clean yourself up. “you knew this entire time and didn’t say anything? i’d rather you turn me down from the beginning than give me this false sense of security. you led me on.”

“no. no, i didn’t.” hobie watches you rinse your face with water. hearing his denial just makes you angrier.

“yes you did. you knew and you said nothing.”

“no i did not. you didn’t even ask me –”

“i don’t have to ask you because i already know. you’re the worst person alive and you only care about yourself –”

“ ☆ , listen. you’ve been assuming things for weeks and look where that got you. just, stop talking and let me speak, please.” his firm tone knocks any thought out of your brain and gets you to tighten up, real quick.

you look over your shoulder, not yet ready to look at him but finally ready to accept that you just might be wrong. you lift the neckline of your shirt over your face and use it as a method to dry it.

“in order for me to have led you on, you’d have to actually confess your feelings to me. at what point do you think i should have just walked up to you and say ‘hey, i know you have feelings for me that you aren’t ready to talk about yet but i just wanted to let you know that i’m not interested’? why do you assume that i don’t feel anything towards you, anyway? maybe i do but i don’t say anything because i know it’s not going to work. let’s think about it, i rarely ever come into town. you love town. at what point would i ever come along and see you?”

“you would get your ass on your bike and drive here like you did this time,” you mumble under your breath. you stand by the sink for a moment to gather your thoughts. you’re gaining clarity through the fog but now you’re drained. you’re tired and you don’t have the energy to feel displeased over whatever he has to say. it doesn’t matter what he has to say because in the end, it’s all going to be a no. “but whatever you say. we don’t work, okay. you’re leaving soon, okay. if that’s all, i’d like to go to bed now.”

“are you mad at me?” he asks from behind you, softly. he almost purrs it and it tugs at your will. you want so badly to let him in but he doesn’t want that and so you must persevere.

you shake your head with a breath. “no. i’m not mad at you. you’re entitled to your own opinion.” you put on the blankest expression you can manage and turn to face him. you cross your arms over your chest and manage to maintain what little composure you have.

he quips a brow at you, obviously not believing your claim and even more so when you don’t say anything to confirm it. “come here for a second.”

you shift your weight until your weight is all on your right side and your hip is popped. “hobie . . .”

“just for a second,” he outstretched his hand as an offer for you.

reluctantly, you take it and give no resistance when hobie pulls you into his personal space. his hands find your cheeks and squish them together until your lips are forced into a pout. “be honest with me, baby. are you mad at me?”

he doesn’t act surprised when you pause before nodding in response. “are you still going to be mad at me if i kiss you?”

hobie watches the thought go through your mind. you consider it and the consequences that come with it. it’s going to be a meaningless kiss because hobie has drawn the line. he can’t be attached to anything from this town and you know that. still, it’s an incredible opportunity to just pass up because of morality.

you shake your head.

hobie’s lips are soft against yours. there’s a subtly sweet taste but it’s possible you’re high off  oxytocin. again, you clench your hands into fists but this time it’s to restrain yourself from holding onto him and pulling him tighter. you have to keep reminding yourself that it’s a meaningless kiss.

it’s even harder to maintain that thought when hobie’s mouth fits so perfectly against yours. he doesn’t move his hands from your cheeks but the kiss grows heated, regardless. his tongue, wet and warm, runs over the expanse of your bottom lip before worming its way into your mouth.

you mewl when it finds yours and sucks. you have to tuck your hands behind your back to hold onto your composure. your feet betray you, though, by bringing you even closer into him and in turn, into his lips.

“are you done cryin’?” he kisses the corner of your mouth and jumps to the skin along your jawline. like before, he kisses and sucks the trail of skin from there to your neck. “because it wouldn’t be right if i just left you here.”

you squirm in your spot and do your best to conceal the whines that threaten to bubble up out of your throat. “hobie, you said – you –” you finally rested your hands on the tops of his thighs. the voice in the back of your head telling you to give in is getting more and more convincing with each passing second.

“what did i say?” he pauses his ministrations to catch his breath and give you a second to find yours. he isn’t sure how the conversation took this turn but he isn’t complaining. if anything, he’s hoping it’ll never end.

you stare at him in the yellow light from the stove. there’s still a chill in the air but you’re buzzed with need. suddenly, you’re hot. it’s sweltering even without the heat being on. you need to find a solution to your lust and quick. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him back into you, deciding the solution right there in the moment.

your lips crash against each other with a burning passion. hobie stands up out of the bar stool, his hands circling around your waist. he takes steps forward and forces you back against the counter across from you. you don’t mind, entangling your hands within his scalp. you’re willing to let him do whatever he wants to you and it shows.

hobie turns you around and presses his hardening cock against the plumpness of your ass. you gasp at the feeling of him rutting against you with his breath fanning over your shoulder, warm and sticky. there’s something that takes over, a horny little monster that throws all your inhibitions out the window. you’re equally as turned on, rolling your hips back on his in tandem with him.

“fuck, okay. don’t get too loud.” he whispers under the sound of the fabrics moving together. out of he corner of your eye, you barely get a glimpse of him shoving his fingers in his mouth before sliding underneath your clothing. he pulls your shirt up in a balled up fist and watches his hand disappear beneath the waistband of your shorts and elastic of your panties.

they waste no time finding your clit, sticky and growing swollen from your insatiable desire. “already so fuckin’ wet.” he rubs the nub in little circles, growing accustomed to your body and what you like most. occasionally, his fingers slip and unintentionally fall too close to your entrance.

your mouth falls open in a tiny “o”. you throw your head back onto his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut and grinding against both his dick and his fingers. you’re sandwiched between pleasure and doing your best to keep your moans limited to a whisper. you grip the edge of the counter and you’re actually grateful for it. it’s the solace that’s keeping you grounded to reality because without it, you’re sure you would have soared to the sky. “d – don’t tease,” you pant. you reach behind you searching for hobie’s dick and you find it easily. it’s hard to miss with the hard feeling of it against your skin and you swear you feel it grow harder when you wrap your fingers around it, still clothed over his sweats.

“sorry, dove. whatever you want,” hobie flattens his palm against your pussy. his middle finger prod at your sticky entrance to test your reaction but it slips right in, much to your pleasure. he has to take it slow with your sensitivity but hobie savors every moment. he’s not in a rush, especially when your fingers squeeze and rub at his clothed cock. he’s ready to stick it in now if he truly wanted but hobie wants this moment to last. he wants to burn the memory into his head and stain his life with whatever effects you have on him.

“mmm,” you hum, spreading your legs farther to accommodate his size. just one of his fingers could make you feel so full that you’re nearly satisfied like this. you have to close your lips and run your tongue along the inside of your cheeks to wet them again. “that feels so good.”

“yeah?” hobie asks. he’s so focused on you, he doesn’t notice how you’ve also managed to get your hand under the waistband of his boxers. he only realized what’s happening when your hand brushes against the stubble of his pubes and wraps around his shaft. “oh baby,” he whines in your ear. you can feel his dick twitch and jump at the tightness of your palm. he nearly falls over your frame when your thumb begins to circle around his tip.

hobie’s fingers stutter inside you. they push farther, deeper, making contact with your g-spot accidentally. he hasn’t gotten a chance to stick another finger in before you’re whimpering and nearly finger fucking yourself with his hand. “oh my gosh, right there. right there, right there!”

if hobie could have laughed at you, he would have. however, he has better things to worry about. like how your voice is beginning to rise in volume and he just cannot have that happen. “shhh,” is all he can manage throughout his full-body shudders. he uses his other hand to drop your shirt and instead stick his fingers in your mouth. they serve the purpose he intended, muffling your noises. he didn’t anticipate for you to suckle on them as if it’s the last thing you’d ever have in your mouth.

that, paired with the handjob and your gushing pussy around his fingers, he could have came right then and there. he could have exploded in his pants and made you cum and end it there but he didn’t. instead, he forces himself to pay attention to you. he puts his pleasure on the back burner and pushes his finger deeper, even going as far as to stretch you farther by adding a second one.

with his fingers deep in your throat and drool pouring out the corner of your mouth, your legs begin to shake. your chest rises and falls with each heaved breath. if you weren’t forced into somewhat silence, you’re sure you would have been calling out hobie’s name, drunk of him and him alone.

he has no idea what words you’re gurgling but unless you’re chanting about how you’re on the verge of cumming, he doesn’t care. luckily for him, it’s almost certain that you were and it’s evident with how your body falls slack in his arms and your cunt spasms around his fingers. the sight is an ultimate turn on.

hobie pulls his fingers out of your mouth and wipes the saliva over your cheek. he takes the opportunity to yank your bottoms down until they’re confined to your ankles. you step out of them and turn around, reconnecting your lips with his.

once again, you’re kissing hobie as an act of hunger, pushing your lips so hard together that they nearly swell. you cup the back of his head to draw him in. you’re delighted to feel his hands on the globes on your cheeks and set you onto the counter. it’s cold on your skin and so you flinch but it becomes a faint thought when hobie’s hands are anchored on the backs of your thighs. he pushes them back until your feet are flat on the counter and your glistening pussy is all on display, still creamy from your recent orgasm.

“just gotta get a taste,” he mumbles, mostly to himself as he eyes the shining cunt open and throbbing for him. he wastes no time wrapping his lips around your puffy clit, slurping at your slick. he enjoys the sapidity that’s unique to you, tangy and a bit sweet, like a refreshing dessert he could eat for the rest of his life.

he can feel the juices drip down his chin and coat the lower half of his face but that doesn’t stop him from eating your pussy like a starved man. you have to bring a hand up to your mouth to muffle the moans, watching the hobie lick between your folds and lap at your clit. your eyes are ready to roll back when hobie’s tongue pokes at your entrance. you want so badly to scream, to pull hobie’s head even closer to your aching pussy but you can’t. you can’t risk moving your hand off your mouth, knowing that the moment you do, you’ll wake up the whole house.

you compromise by using your other hand to support your weight and shift toward, putting yourself a little more onto your toes. in this new position, you’re able to move your cunt along his face. you push farther, going as far as to brush your clit along hobie’s nose.

his response is to tug your body to the edge of the counter and wrap your legs over his shoulders. your lower body is solely held up by him, his shoulder, and his hands. he swallows every ounce of your slick and sears your clit with a kiss.

it doesn’t take long before you’re finding yourself closer to the edge of a second orgasm. you ball your shirt up and shove the jumbled mess into your own mouth. your brain is foggy. you can’t think of a single thought that isn’t full of hobie, the pleasure, and the need to cum, immediately. 

“mmmf,” you wrap your legs around his neck. dig your fingers into his hair, and tug just in time for another gush of cum to come flowing out of your pussy. every muscle in your body has relaxed and become putty by now. you’re at hobie’s disposal and you love that.

“you’re so perfect, i’m devastated.” he kisses your inner thigh, continuing to trail those kisses up your stomach, between your tits, and onto your lips. he doesn’t wipe the cum off his face as he does it. instead, he makes you taste it, wrapping his tongue around yours and wetting your cheeks with the stickiness as your arousal as he does it.

“no you’re not. you won’t stay for me.” you whisper between kisses, running your hands along his bare chest under his shirt. you grab the hem and pull it up until hobie inevitably allows you to pull it off. it’s discarded and tossed onto the floor.

“i won’t stay for anyone. you know this.” he disconnects from the kiss, but only for a moment. during this time, he drops his pants to pull out his cock, raging from watching you cum not once, but twice. in the darkness, you can make out an outline of it, long and skinny with a mushroom tip and bulging veins. he’s been straining this whole time but hadn’t complained at all, loving every second of pleasing you. he could do it for hours if he had the time.

you resort to pouting as hobie sets your feet back onto the ground. with his hands on his hips, he turns you back around until your back is pressed against his chest, once again. “just say you hate me.”

“keep saying that and i’ll shove my dick in your mouth.” he says, aligning his tip with his sticky entrance. you don’t mention how his threat holds no weight if you’d enjoy it. instead, you play into it and huff, resting your hands flat on the counter.

you brace yourself when hobie begins to push deep into you. the stretch is painful at first, enough that you have to grit your teeth and will yourself to relax through the shallow thrusts to ease his way into you. it only takes a few seconds before the pain is blooming into satisfaction.

he fits so well inside you, filling you as if he was created solely for this purpose. you reach up, resting your hand on his cheek for a source of intimacy in the slow thrusts. you use the leverage of the counter to push your ass back to meet his thrusts.

you don’t know how much willpower you have to continue standing on your own when hobie is doing such a good job of fucking you dumb. even with the slow pace, you have to give in, leaning over the counter. to hobie, this is leverage for him to take control of the situation. he slots a large hand over your mouth and the other rests on the small of your back.

almost instantly, his thrusts increase tenfold. you’re certain if this was done on a bed, it would have been rocking with such an intensity against the wall. you grasp his hand covering your mouth with yours, almost screaming into his hand.

“shh, you’ll w – wake someone u – up.” he leans over you. hobie doesn’t compensate for the sound of skin slapping against each other by speaking louder. instead, he gets closer to you and because of that, angles his dick deeper into your cunt.

in this new state, you can hear every soft moan and whimper that leaves his mouth. he’s not rough about it, almost singing in your ear. his breath feels moist on your skin and adds to the fire burning in your core. “just t – take it, baby.”

you almost sob, rising onto your toes and writhe underneath him. it didn’t occur to you that you’d be overstimulated by the time you’ve reached this point. as much of your fault as it is, you like to blame most of it on hobie for pushing it this far. you wouldn’t be tempted to push him away, feeling as though he would be forcing another one out of you, if he didn’t.

you’re still, almost stuck in place. he’s too good at delivering. your body craves more and less of him at the same time. you’re certain you can feel him in your throat, ready to pop out the other side and through your mouth if this continues long enough. it’s driving you crazy, so crazy you squeeze your legs together.

it doesn’t last long because coincidentally, hobie hooks his hand under your leg and pushes it onto the counter. your cunt squelches as it swallows his size greedily. he’s obsessed with watching his length disappear inside you and the white sheen that surrounds the base. “shit, you’re gettin’ tight. gonna make me cum.”

you can only wail at his words and press your forehead against the granite. your legs have begun to quiver for the second time that night and you’re almost certain your insides are about to explode. you’re unsure what is building up inside you but it’s drawing from somewhere deep in the pits of your stomach and you’re getting nervous. there’s not much you can do about it, nor can you think about it too much because hobie’s fingers are rolling your clit between them.

the bud is all swollen and practically hot to the touch. you’re dripping down your own thighs at this point. there’s a musk that accompanies sex in the air, thick and sending you into a daze. your eyes flutter closed before they roll back. you let loose, weak streams of squirt falling into the floor beneath you.

“holy fuckin’ shit,” hobie pulls out of you so fast, you whine and crumple onto the floor. he, as the kind gentleman he is, don’t force your weak body to move positions again. instead, he steps to your side and turns your head with a hand under your chin. “open your mouth for me. atta’ girl.”

you watch him through half lidded eyes jerk his swollen cock in front of your face until he’s spurting cum all over it. your tongue dangles open and catches what remnants dribble downwards into your mouth.

hobie’s equally sensitive body stands there for a moment to catch his breath. he slowly lowers himself onto the ground until he’s able to run his thumb over your cum-covered face to collect some of it on the pad of his finger and swipe it over your tongue. “how do you feel? want water or something?”

you wordlessly shake your head and crawl into his arms, despite the fact that your face is ultimately covered in his nut. you don’t mention that what you really want to know is what happens now. “just want to shower and sleep.”

he looks at you, half asleep against him, and then around the kitchen and the few pieces of evidence left behind. for one, the scent has got to go. “i’ll get you into the bath and i’ll handle the cleanup, okay? you just rest your pretty little head.”

you’ve already beat him to it, humming in response and envisioning the comfort of your queen sized bed. if you considered things awkward before, just what until you see how you try to navigate it in the morning.

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

Road Not Taken | Bang Chan

Synopsis: When your parents tell you that you're to marry the mayors son, Seo Changbin, you're left with two choices. Do you take the easy and sure route with nothing but green grass or do you take the path that's a bit less predictable and rough?

Pairings: au Bang Chan x Female Reader

Content Includes: Fluff, Forbidden romance, Secret romance, Strict parents, A sexually suggestive moment, Runaway, Happy ending, The Notebook vibes, Rich girl x not so rich guy

•Short but sweet. wc 2k•

an: Inspired by the poem The road not taken by Robert Frost and Chan quoting the poem when he talked about yellow wood in the intro.

“Y/N are you listening? Your father is talking to you.” Your mom sighs and rolls her eyes. “Honestly, get your head out of the clouds. This is a great opportunity and Seo Changbin is a great catch. He's so handsome and strong. Not to mention he'll be mayor one day after his father. You'll be the mayor's wife y/n doesn't that sound wonderful?” She gushes, clasping her hands together happily looking lovingly at your dad, who was the governor.

What is this, some eighteenth century life you're living? Why do you have to marry some guy just because he's rich and smart? Yeah sure, Changbin is great, literally at everything but... You've known him since you were in preschool. Even went to the same prep school together too so you know just how amazing of a guy he is. He's just not your type. He's more of a big brother to you. The problem though, you've always done as you were told. Take up horseback riding even if you were terrified? Yep. Harp even if it made your fingers blister and bleed? Of course. So how could you possibly look your parents in the face and defy them? Your dad looks at you with such a proud expression that you feel like shit for even thinking about going against him.

“Yes.” Is all you can say because the false smile and enthusiasm you give, takes everything out of you.

“That's my princess. You make your mother and I so proud of you. Really, we're so lucky. Isn't that right Grace?” Your dad pats your mother's hand still looking at you and she nods in agreement.

“The luckiest.” She chimes in. “Now make sure not to be late for your piano lessons; your recital is next week.” waving a dismissing hand.

Her large wedding ring and perfectly manicured nails shine in the sunlight that spills through the multiple windows of the conservatory. Removing the white cloth from your lap and setting it onto the table next to your barely eaten lunch, you stand up and leave. The entire conversation replays repetitively in your mind that you don't see your little sister leaving her room and you bump into almost butting heads.

“Shit, I'm sorry sis. I didn't see you. You're not hurt are you?” You fuss over her and she slaps your hands away smiling.

“Jeez will you chill. I'm fine. Where's your head at though?” She questions you, crossing her petite arms over her chest. Her large eyes look up at you and you briefly think back to a few hours ago when you were that carefree. Hopefully she won't share your fate in a few years seeing as she's only four years younger than you.

“Mom and dad just dropped a bomb on me.” Sighing, you lean back against the perfectly decorated wall behind you. “I'm set to marry Seo Changbin.” You finish and your sister's eyes light up.

“Oh my god, no way?” She whispers and covers her mouth. “You're so lucky. I'd give my left ear to marry that man. Have you seen his arms?”

When she giggles you can't help but join in. Just like Changbin, her laugh is infectious. The two of you gossip about boys a little longer in the hallway before you reluctantly make your way to your room to quickly shower and change your clothes before your lessons. Piano lessons were not only important to your mom but even more important to you.

Chris Bang, your piano teacher and the love of your life, secretly for the past two years, makes the lessons worth every second of struggling over the piece you decided to play for your recital. River flows in you by Yiruma has been a favorite of yours since you were really little and because you've heard it so many times you thought it would be easy. It isn't, not even remotely. The increasing tempo is where you seem to struggle and Chris will often tell you “Don't fear a little accelerando baby.”

Seeing his face when you walk in erases all the stress from your body and mind. He's like a hard reset to your mental health. The way his eyes sparkle and even smile along with him, the two dimples perfectly placed on either side of his beautiful mouth and the enveloping scent of smokey vanilla that surrounds you when he pulls you in for a tight hug, it all chases away all the bad and heals you.

“There's my beautiful girl. Gosh, I missed you.” He greets you with open arms that go around your waist when you stroll into him. His lips leave feathery light kisses all over your face making you chuckle softly.

“I missed you too babe.” You happily reply and push his blonde hair back from his brow. In contrast to how heavy your heart felt earlier it feels lightweight now.

His lips find yours turning the sweet embrace into something more intimate. Inside the family library, it's the only space you two are never interrupted. No one, not even staff dare disturb your lessons, not after your mom fired the last person that did so. It was completely uncalled for, the poor guy only came in the room to dust while you were going through the notes and when you messed up your mother blamed him. Now it's a haven for you and Chris. The two of you have spent hours studying each other's body's more times than you've actually studied the music. Thank God that Chris is a good teacher, you're able to show off your progress if or whenever your mom decides to show interest. So when his hands move from your waist and grips your ass you don't stop him.

══════════════•✦♡✦•═════════════

“Well now that that part of the lesson is over, what do you say you show me what else your fingers can do?” Chris suggests playfully still breathing heavily above you with a cocky smirk.

“Oh my gosh,” you giggle and cover your face. “you're such a dork but I love you.”

The moment is blissful and if you could lay like this under him for eternity, you gladly would. Unfortunately though, the large black Steinway grand piano sits waiting for you because if your mom doesn't hear any playing she won't hesitate to barge in. So you two unreluctantly separate and get dressed, hands and lips refusing to stray away from each other for too long.

Sitting on the shiny black surface of the piano's bench, your fingers hover over the keys as you inhale deeply through your nose and then exhale slowly out your mouth. The pads of your fingertips lightly press down on the ivory keys in front of you and begin moving effortlessly. Your eyes close upon hearing the sad yet happy music you create. Due to how many times you've played this piece it's become second nature now but when the crescendo approaches you become more focused and tense up.

“Relax babes, you can do this.” Chris whispers in your ear and you breathe him in.

Your fingers move, gradually picking up speed feeling calm and at ease knowing Chris is behind you and believing in your abilities. The worst is over and the tempo slows, ending with a beautiful climax.

“See baby, I knew you could do it!” Chris cheers coming around from behind you to stand beside the instrument and look at you. “Woah woah what's the matter? What happened y/n, why are you crying?” He gently takes your face in his hands stroking your cheeks with his thumbs wiping away the tears that rapidly fall from your eyes.

With the day's news finally getting to you, you break down and tell him everything. About the arrangement and how you are terrified of disobeying your parents but most of all you tell him that the last thing you want to do is be with someone that isn't him. That thought alone fills you with dread and makes you sick to your stomach. Changbin is a good man but he isn't Chris and you could never love another man the way you love him. You're pulled into his strong arms as he consoles you, the soft singing coming from him soothes you until you're able to calm the sobs that wrack through you.

“It's okay baby girl. Don't be sad. I know that I may not have a lot...” He pauses and scoffs at himself, resting his chin on top of your head, still holding you tight. “Honestly the only thing I have a lot of, is the love that I have for you. So whatever path you decide to take I'll always love you.”

“After all this time I still get amazed at how perfect you are, Christopher.” You tell him, voice slightly muffled against his chest, followed by sniffling as you hold back fresh tears that threaten to spill by his words.

He chuckles and his body shakes lulling you like a newborn. Chris's actions and words only proves your point, how can you love someone other than him? There's no one that could possibly take his place, you know that. What you don't know is how you're going to let your family down and tell them that you won't be marrying Seo Changbin. How do you disappoint your parents in a way that won't entirely shatter their hearts to the point where they just cut you off or abandon you? They could never do that to you… could they? That night you replayed Chris's words in your head so much that you gave yourself a headache. Sitting up in bed, after having tossed and turned for a good three hours you ran through all possible scenarios.

If you chose the easy path and agreed to be with Changbin you were sure how your life would be. Exactly like your mother's life. As a rich wife with a simple, boring, predictable life full of other people who just care about money and social politics. You'd spend your days with other wives, expected to dress and act a certain way all while losing a part of yourself if not all. Choosing Chris however, things would be uncertain. You have no idea what the future could possibly hold for you both. There could be rough terrain along the way but you were certain that you would be happy. That you both would get through whatever life decided to throw at you. As long as love continued to bloom and grow like a well taken care of flower, you two would be okay.

Jumping out of bed you look at your phone and see it's just past 5am but it's now or never. Grabbing a backpack from the closet and emptying it of any forgotten items you shove some clothes and a few important items inside. Your heart races and mixed emotions flood through your chest. Fear, excitement, guilt, nervousness and sadness sit comfortably at the top of the iceberg that is you. You keep moving silently throughout your room though, making sure you've got everything that you need.

“Just in case.” You whisper outloud to yourself. ‘Just in case they don't let me come back.’ That thought sits heavy on your heart but it doesn't derail your plans. You've made up your mind.

You're not going to play it safe by marrying Changbin. You've been playing it safe all your life. The uncertainty of taking a path that not many would travel down is scary. All the ‘what ifs’. If you could take both paths some way you would but that's not possible. It's a risk but for love and for Chris, you'd gladly make this choice again. Glancing around the room one last time, a last minute thought springs to your mind and you walk over to your desk to write your parents and sister and note.

“Mom and Dad, please don't be too upset with me. I'm leaving with Chris. I love him and I just couldn't see myself doing as I'm told this time. I hope you can find it in your hearts to continue to love me just the same. If you allow me to, I'll be back someday soon. Sweet little sister go and get Changbin, yeah? He'd be lucky to have you as a wife instead of me anyway we both know that. I love you three. I won't be far but I also won't change my mind.”

With a satisfied sigh you fold the paper in half and set it on your pillow. Your palm lays flat on the surface and you silently say goodbye to the life you had always known for something grander. Love. As the sunrise casts a golden hue on the horizon, you run towards the woods with nothing but the clothes you're wearing and a backpack slung over your shoulder. The sounds of the wildlife waking up throughout the yellow wood around you sounds so beautiful and it keeps your feet moving. The small house fenced in just past the woods comes to view and you smile breathlessly.

Rapping your knuckles on the white painted wooden door you chew on your bottom lip and wait for Chris to open up. Curly, messy blond hair peeks through the crack in the door when he slowly opens it. Almost in unison when he realizes it's you visiting him this early, his sleepy eyes and the door widens.

“Y/n baby what are you doing here?” his eyes go from your face down to the backpack that you now clutched in your hand and he lets out a small gasp that lights you up. “You really chose me?” His voice sounds so small like he can't believe it.

“Yes, I did. How could I not?” you give him a lopsided grin and wink playfully.

He grabs you in his arms and kisses your lips over and over, pecking them with a huge grin on his face. Setting you down, looking down into your eyes with so much love and longing he tells you that he'll make it his life's mission to make you happy every day and to not only tell you but show you just how much he loves you. You could feel your heart swelling from his words and your emotions bubbling up inside. Didn't he know he made you happy everyday already?

Setting your hand into his and interlocking your fingers you look up at him and sweetly smile. “No matter what storms we encounter, I'll always be there holding my hand out to you. I'll never regret the path I've decided to take at your side. I made a choice for love and that will make all the difference.”

The End.

══════════════•✦♡✦•═════════════

Sidenote: I wanted to end this the same way the poem ended so there won't be a part 2. Just know they lived happily ever after.

Her sister married Binnie and her parents eventually got the stick out of their asses and were cool with her living her best life as Mrs. Y/N Bang lol ♡ if you've never read the poem or listened to the track Road Not Taken from skz's Yellow Wood album I definitely recommend both.

[eatmeeraw]

never tell anyone anything ever. never tell anyone anything again.

Escapism.

summary: you’re in her friend group. you two have been close for months and you slowly fell in love with her more and more. you suspected the feeling was mutual because of how attached she was, how she behaved like you two were together, until tara began detaching and avoiding you, not showing up for you nor your friends anymore…

category: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff at the end.

warnings: swearing, idk if my writing is good sorry if it disgusts you, avoidant attachment everywhere, venting, alcohol usage, smoking, dissociation (r doubts she’s alive). portrayals might not be 100% canon. might not be completely proofread. there are mentions of tara’s trauma with amber and some behaviors she has because of it.

word count: 4,9k.

A/N: first fanfic, kinda nervous. i hope everything is okay and some people are going to like this. ethan and quinn aren’t ghostfaces in here, but the group knows they’re siblings, anika isn’t dead, and they’re all still in the friendgroup with the core four. ghostface isn’t present. tara is a bit of a emo who actually lags and denies everytime she feels emotions here. Error 404 kinda thing, but as the fanfic continues she gets better.

you are settled on the couch, your body sinking into the soft, cold, and miraculously still clean cushions, their fabric feels good against your skin, making your muscles relax. you could hear the voices of other people overlapping each other furiously, and smell the scent of alcohol, coca-cola and tobacco mix in the air.

you inhale just because you need to, you didn’t appreciate such strong smells, but you could handle it. you always handled it.

the room is large, but not too overcrowded, making the party feel a little bit less dangerous.

groups of friends are chatting around you, some people are dancing, you could catch some of the guests kissing or directly, shamelessly, making out, the sounds of their lips meeting, their spit, and everything else almost makes you nauseous.

the dim and warm hues of the lights are hitting you and the others, and the music in the background isn’t too loud, but loud enough to set the atmosphere and make people move to the rhythm of the sweet, animated music.

you luckily aren’t alone: sam, chad, mindy, quinn and anika were around you, on the couches, making short and light conversations. not everyone in the group was in the mood for partying, like sam, who was blankly looking at the ceiling, jaw clenching sometimes. you can see especially chad go around and try to flirt with some people, entertaining himself after the disappointment he had with tara. unrequited love always hurts, and you know it all too well. he isn’t the only one disappointed.

mindy and anika are creating the conversations mostly, quinn following them and playing their game every time, ethan, instead, her brother, is extremely silent, looking around like a lost puppy who couldn’t understand how to have fun. he always has been so weirdly shy.

you are lost in your thoughts, until anika talks again. « oh! have y’all seen tara? sam, any news? » before tara’s older sister could talk, chad opened his mouth. « she didn’t even show up tonight…weird. » « yeah, she hasn’t been around lately. didn’t even text back these days. i sent her a message about tonight’s party and she left me on seen…rude » mindy explains, looking at the ground, crossing her arms. you can hear a hint of anxiety in her voice.

« i mean, she has been through a lot- » ethan talks, surprisingly, but his sister interrupts him. « it’s not like her to disappear like that, but…i dunno. » she shrugs, now fidgeting with her fingers, suddenly serious again.

you drown in your bitter thoughts again, as you hear the others talk. their sentences a echo in the room of your fears and your indescribable confusion, making you feel slightly hazy even though no alcohol is flowing in your veins.

« y/n? » quinn calls for you, but you don’t reply, completely zoned out. « y/n… » another time, and this time you look at her, frowning as to invite her to go ahead and say what she needs to say. « when was the last time she replied to you? » she asks, and you grab your phone to check the chat. you scroll up, because ten or more messages were sent by you during those days where she fully disappeared. a worried you. a worried you that was still there, lingering, being the skeleton of your essence. « two weeks ago. »

and the question was asked to everyone else in the friend group: they all hadn’t heard from her since a week ago. they stare at you, and your breath hitches in annoyance and paranoia, as you are the center of the worst type of attention possible. you were sure it was your fault, you probably said something that made her get icky and disgusted, like always. you softly tremble in your seat as they discuss how, maybe, something was going on with you, and then sam talks, interrupting the endless, useless gossip that was gravitating in the air.

« can i talk, now? » she asks, crossing her arms tightly on her chest, head tilting slightly. ethan nods, and she continues her sentence. « she’s okay, just stressed. she’ll return. » her posture was tensed, her jaw just persistently clenched every time she’d close her mouth. you knew something was up, you knew she knew. anika sighs, and everyone nods, except you.

as the context of the conversation shifts, making the previous calmness of your friends come back, you stay there, you remain where everyone was investigating heavily on the girl you always loved.

you just felt the urge to cry: she’s so dear to you, the love you feel is like an eternal explosion, butterflies rising and falling inside your stomach, a soft hand grasping your heart: her hand. when you first started liking her, everything was smooth, like an oiled surface. the feelings were unspoken, no kiss was given, but, oh, how her eyes would sparkle every time you entered the room, every time you joined a conversation, every time you simply passed by.

her cheeks flushed, her softness being between your hands, she was malleable and weak for how much she seemed to care about you but you loved her the way she was. her hands loved to be in your hair, or on your cheeks, her fingers would perfectly interlock with yours, and her arms found comfort encircling your waist or neck.

but, still, at some point, she chose to act like you were dead, like right now.

are you dead? you aren’t sure, you can bet that your heart is beating still. you try to re-focus on your friends, whom you hear giggling in the background, giving one another the entertainment they needed in a similar party.

« so…what’s up with that guy you fucked, quinn? » mindy teases, giggling afterward, making the others gasp. quinn squints her eyes, you see it as a little detail that you actually appreciated about her. but, god, if she, sometimes, was annoying. especially when you were in tara’s apartment and you could hear continuous moans in the background while you were trying to have a normal conversation with tara, or with sam.

« huh, we text here and there…he’s fine, i guess. » she shrugs, like nothing was important, like he was just a passenger, someone that existed in her space just to satisfy her stupid needs once, and then disappeared. « no second date? you’re slippin’, quinn » chad jokes, raising an eyebrow, a hint of startle on his face. sam, instead, wasn’t surprised at all. « no. i’d say i prefer variety. »

« what a shame, anika and i were searching for a couple to go to a double date with. » mindy affirmed, anika nodded in agreement, a little pout painted on her face.

you think about how sweet it would be, to go on their double date bringing tara with you. maybe you would end up in a lousy fast food, or maybe an elegant, cozy restaurant with all her favorite dishes. you sighed, shaking your head softly as you looked around. you gazed at sam again, she was lazily scrolling through her phone, always serious and tensed up.

you get closer to her, whispering, as everyone else is distracted. « …did i do something? ». tara’s older sister looks up at you, and you see her turning off her phone as she pushes the tip of her tongue against the inside of her cheek. she takes a deep breath before replying. « no, she’s just…complicated. » she looks around almost as if she could be there, secretly listening to your conversation. « it’s not just you. give her space. »

you stare around, still disoriented, if not more than before. you decide to get up and walk towards the table that holds bottles of beer, pouring yourself a cup and tasting the bold, cold bitterness while it fills your mouth and goes down your throat, bringing you relief. you drink a little bit more before everything gets destroyed by something that you didn’t exactly expect.

you see tara, the friend group slowly walking closer to her, and you do the same thing, still holding the plastic cup, now as warm as your palm.

« hey, you made it. » her sister awkwardly says, waving a hand, and tara would just softly nod and wave her hand back. « WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? » mindy screams and tara giggles, the nervousness was clear, she was avoiding eye contact with every single person in front of her like it would be a potential danger, like it would make the plague come for her body and soul. « we thought you went full hermit mode, dude. »

« i…didn’t think so many people would come. » tara murmured, looking down. felt off, like a withered rose, a rotten fruit, a bleeding pomegranate. tara looks at you, a strange spark in her eyes. you glance at her back, hesitantly, and you feel like death isn’t so bad, suddenly. you are hoping someone would show their guns and threaten everyone to have no mercy upon them in that exact moment. but no one saves you, saviors don’t exist, you remind yourself.

« hi. » she murmurs, forcing a smile.

« hi. » you reply, showing the palm of your free hand, waving it slowly, just a lazy move. she nods and goes away, showing a lack of interest in any sort of interaction between her and the group. they remain skeptical, and you just walk away again, gulping down every single drop of the drink you had in your cup.

a hour passes. you spend it by secretly glancing at tara, or at least trying to, since every time you would set your eyes on her, she would catch the opportunity to make creepy, long-lasting eye contact with you. you hate it, you hate it because you blush, and you can’t help but feel embarrassed by the slight, useless attention she gives you with so much nonchalance. after this, she is surely not going to talk to you again, you think.

the lights that once made you comfortable inside a house you barely knew the owner of, now make you irrevocably disturbed. too intense, too blinding, they would get in the way as you tried to understand what tara was doing, but it actually wasn’t much: talking to sam, looking around, scrolling on the phone, and grabbing drinks.

nothing to see. but everything to think about: many questions would torture your mind, and make your soul beg to leave your body at once. but what did you do? what made tara so distant? is it actually you that is the problem?

you stare at her again. this time, she was talking with mindy and anika, her expression cold, blank, like emotions were nothing to her but ants she could step on and kill with no hesitancy. she shook her head at them, and then looked behind them, at you. her big, brownish eyes scan you, her lips are slightly parted and her expression always neutral, but somewhat altered by something else, looking almost dubious or...scared?

you are the one that breaks eye contact, grabbing a pack of cigarettes that was hidden in the pocket of your jeans, going out of the party, not talking to anyone anymore. you feel too dizzy, too bothered, to even function properly, to even talk to someone without crumbling in a million pieces. you feel almost miserable, too. you have been desperately chasing something that, clearly, wasn’t meant for you.

she doesn’t love you, does she? your gaze hardens as you light up a cigarette with your lighter, looking at the emptiness of the dark night sky, the stars are barely visible and it was saddening. maybe you are like that to tara, too: barely visible, and not worth squinting her eyes for.

you are just a fainting star for her and it destroys you. when are people going to figure out you exist? you breathe, you are alive, are you not? are you dead?

you put your free hand on your chest, searching, looking desperately for the beat of your heart. as you find it you exhale loudly, and your hand becomes a clenched fist.

you feel it, why doesn’t anyone else feel it, too? you grab with force your cell phone from your pocket, scrolling through your new notifications fast, not even glancing at them with great attention. chad asked where you were, mindy called you. it meant nothing. you opened tara’s chat, scrolling up, gazing at the messages you two would send each other.

you smile bitterly, as the phone lights up your face, which was wholly taken by nostalgia.

a month ago

tara 💗: can u come over rn??

you: i don’t know, are quinn and sam around?

tara 💗: no

tara 💗: please? we needa watch the movie we talked about :)

you: alrrrr, coming

memories flash in front of your eyes, her apartment and the sweet scent of hers, the popcorns, her adorable giggles that would give you a reason to exist. you inhale deeply, your lips wrapped around the cigarette, and you almost choke on it as you hear tara’s voice.

« throw that cigarette. » direct, almost mocking, and you don’t look her way, avoiding to even acknowledge the fact she is talking to you. really a coward thing to do. you exhale the smoke, and you watch it get lost in the fresh air of the night.

as you get the cigarette’s orangish butt close to your lips, you feel a hand blocking your wrist, the other grabbing the cigarette by the white casing wrapping around the burning tobacco. you watch the youngest carpenter hurl the item on the ground, putting it out by smashing the heel of her shoe against it with great force, looking at you.

« what the fuck? » you mutter, your cheeks slightly red. is it the alcohol or her presence making you react like that? her cologne was slowly dominating the scent that the cigarette was producing, filling your nostrils, your lungs. you would exhale with great hesitation, aching for the perfume you missed for days.

you, in a rush, turn off the phone, putting it inside your pocket again. your chest feels heavy, your breathing is irregular and you can’t grasp again the control you had before checking the past messages.

« smoking is bad. » tara hisses, and you raise you eyebrows, skeptical by the reaction she has. impressed also by how smoothly she came, how you didn’t notice for not even a moment someone was lurking. you reply, your voice cracking mid-sentence, making you melt in shame: « also alcohol is bad, but i saw you drink with no shame tonight. »

« you did, too. » « so if i smash my head against the wall you’re gonna do it too? »

silence.

you take a deep breath, avoiding watching her in the eyes, you just can’t. confusion is even more marked now, and you bite your lower lip trying to take some of the frustration out of you, but it lingers still, it haunts you totally.

you feel played, like a light that gets continuously turned on and off. now she shows she cares, turning on that light, but those two weeks when the light was off? what did they mean? you can ask her, you have her right in front of you, and the alcohol, somehow, makes you bold, a brave girl confronting the cause of her fears.

« why did you disappear? why was i the first you ran away from? » you question with a shaky voice, and you see her expressionless face falter, turning into something more confusing. is the spark in her eye sadness, or something else?

silence, again. for a few moments, she just watches, as if she didn’t have a voice, as if she was trying to communicate everything telepathically to you.

then, she talks.

you see her hesitate, remain with her lips parted longer than needed, and you wonder what was she trying to cover. « why do you care? i’m here now, so. » she hints a giggle, you know tara is actively trying to ease the tension, somehow. but she’s failing, because your expression hardens more, your eyebrows furrow. « are you serious? » you almost bark.

you slowly feel the anger knock at the door of your throat, wanting to come out. still, you bottled up. still, you swallowed down the loath. you force your gaze to soften. « why do i care? how do you- shit »

you take a step ahead, turning slightly towards the nothingness that is seated beside you and making your shoulders face her for a brief moment. you cover your mouth, taking a deep breath against your palm.

« you think it’s that simple? you think it’s easy to see you walk away without saying anything? you’re my friend, i thought some bad shit happened to you. » you laugh nervously, you see guilt in her eyes as you glance at her, but also…disappointment. like she expected something more.

« fuck, i even talked to sam. you know how awkward it is. » you try to change the context of the conversation as you feel a part of you beg to let the fear out, all the worries she caused, all the paranoia you felt that kept you awake at night. the insomnia, the poignant thoughts that would keep you alarmed.

tara laughs, but it sounds fake, programmed. she slowly turns serious as she sees you not even hinting a smile. « i’m sorry, okay? i just needed space. » she fidgets with the hem of her shirt, almost painfully torturing it. you can see the regret showing, but being denied by tara herself.

« for what? what did i even do? » « nothing. » you huff, befuddled by her ways, she is making you feel like you are in an unlimited limbo. you completely lose it. some tears prick your eyes, you gaze at her almost like you wanted her dead.

« you know what? fine. » you bark, and you walk away with hasty steps, the silence from her was the strongest, most hurtful sound you could feel at this moment. the only thing covering it were your heels striking furiously the ground, until you stop.

your walk gets interrupted by a hand grabbing and squeezing your shoulder, and tara is panting. maybe you walked too rapidly, until now. you gaze at her, surprised and still confused, a tesr goes down your visage. your head is clouded, the alcohol you have inside your body isn’t helping at all.

« okay, i’ll- i’ll tell you. » she says, quietly, taking a deep breath in. you frown, her hand lingers, not letting you go, going down until it reaches your forearm, the grip tightening again, fearing you’d escape, exactly like she did. « i was…scared. » « of what? »

she freezes, looking down at the asphalt beneath your feet, tapping on your shoulder obsessively, reflecting, opening her mouth before closing it again.

a sigh. « i-i mean, you started treating me so w-well and i got- it was so- i didn’t…» « sorry, i won’t do it again. » you shrug, and she squeezes your arm painfully tight. your breath hitches, and as she notices, she lets your arm go. « it’s not what i meant. i…» she swallows hard, putting a hand on her forehead.

« it’s that after what happened…» she stops, putting her hands behind her back. oh, you know it all too well. sam talked to you about it when she felt like you were close enough to them to deserve to know, more as a warning than a demonstration of closeness

she continues: « with…amber. i can’t risk again. » she hesitates before saying her name, almost as if her name was a forbidden word, a spell, a death sentence. it held weight, but she acted like she would show up if she said her name too many times. and the umpteenth confirmation is in front of you: she looks around, looking at the empty streets, checking to see if someone is watching. if amber is watching. « but i’m not amber, tara. » you remind her, crossing your arms.

« i know, but i’m scared. y-you’re so nice and she was too- you know, you know what she was doing to me while she was b-being nice. » she says one word after the other furiously, her voice shaky and unstable, cracking, and she says everything so slowly because sobs would interrupt every word in her sentence, obstacles full of emotions.

you notice tears going down her cheeks, and it makes you wonder when she started crying. you move your hands slightly, nervously, trying to not listen to the urge you have: cup her cheeks, wipe her tears. you just couldn’t, you feel like it would be too much.

« but i don’t want anyone else to hurt you » tara barely nods, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt again, her head tilted. « that’s exactly what amber used to tell me. »

you sigh, having no idea of what to do now, what to say. the young girl saves you, just by declaring something else. « besides…if you don’t kill, y-you’ll get killed. being close to me is a death sentence, really. »

« don’t say that. » you murmur, shaking your head, a shiver of pity runs through you like thunder. you hate seeing her that way. her voice is still there, but unstable. « the next one could kill you. i don’t want you to d-die. » she almost screams, holding up a hand to her neck, like she was choking on her tears. she cries, and she isn’t even able to interrupt her grief, her pointless grief that looks at the future with a negative eye. « who said there’s going to be a next one? » you ask, almost rhetorically, like it was sure the murders ended in woodsboro, and that would dare hunting down tara and sam another time.

not in my story, you think. not when there’s me. you would protect her, no matter what, and at the first suspicious murder happening close to her, you already know you would make whoever wanted to get in the way disappear, in one way or another. but you didn’t know the gravity of the situation, you never were a victim of the attacks, you have no idea how smart a ghostface killer has to be.

tara remains silent again, her silence, every time she would use it, was as bothering as a loud, earth-breaking storm.

she just sobs, and trembles, and you can’t hold back anymore. you wrap your arms around her, pulling her in a hug that you both needed, so much, and you get it, you do, because she wraps her arms around you like her life depends on it.

« it’s okay. » your lullaby of consolation makes her nod, breathing deeply between her sniffs. she tightens her grip, and you only desire to feel all of her attached to you, every limb touching yours. you feel content at the affection, but you want more, her lips looked perfect, smooth, and soft. you wondered how they would taste.

but you couldn’t fuck around and find out, not now. « i know you’re scared, but i’ll be here, okay? we’ll be fine, no matter what. just…please. please don’t run away from me again…i…i missed you, so much. » you whisper, your voice is a restless plead, and you almost break down between her arms.

« i missed you too. » « but…i’m confused, » you finally confess. she looks at you, waiting patiently for you to add context, something that can help her understand what struggle you had. you notice how she calmed down, how she doesn’t sob anymore, how very few tears would fall, compared to how much she was crying before. she looks clueless, and it made your sentence stop for a little more time than how much you programmed. is it just you who wants more?

« the days we spent together…what do they mean to you? » and the question takes a few moments to be answered, as her grip tightens around you, her eyes gazing at you rather than the emptiness of the place. strangely, no one is there, you two can hear the music of the partying flat even out of it, and it relaxes you more because you aren’t alone, you can say you need to go if you want to, if it gets too much even for you.

you wait still, and she sighs. « they’re special, obviously. » « but tara, there’s more. » you notice that as you speak and breath, cold whiteish air goes out of your mouth, losing itself in the space in front of you. is it really that cold?

« i don’t know what you mean. » she shakes her head, and you take a step back. her cheeks are flushed, her body is stiff and as she doesn’t have anything else to grab, her hands clasp roughly.

you falter, shaking your head softly. « it’s nothing. maybe i should head out, y’know, maybe mindy is still waiting f— » « no, wait. » her hands open, she shows her palms, and huffs. « i want to understand. how come there’s more? i don’t even know what that means. »

« you get incredibly close for weeks, you kiss my face, you hug me and struggle to let go, you treat me with…weird sweetness that i have never seen before, especially from you. you suddenly disappear because you’re scared that i’ll end up copying amber, then…you say that those moments are just special. that’s a meaningless reply to me— do you even care? » you vent, a hint of anger mixed with palpable confusion, and the words go out of your mouth faster than you wanted them to.

she widens slightly her eyes, raising her eyebrows. and you know she still isn’t understanding from what place you’re coming from, or maybe she understands? how confusing she is.

« what kind of question is that? i care »

you decide to go all in, your patience wearing thin, as thin as a blade of grass. « then why do you act like you’re in love with me? » you giggle nervously, maybe looking crazy in front of her eyes, maybe looking desperate. she locks eyes with you, and you go ahead and take steps towards the building, fearing her reply, fearing that everything you know is false.

« because i am, y/n » you hear her say from behind, and you turn around, frowning. you are suspecting that what you heard isn’t actually what she is trying to say, and somehow, even if you didn’t say anything, she gets it. « i said i am. »

« how did you— » « you always make that face when you’re lost. » she laughs, getting closer, and that phrase makes you hint a smile. she cups your face with her cold hands, and it makes you shiver, but somehow it feels emotionally warm. a blanket over your heart.

« so what do you think? » she whispers those words, her voice cracking with fear. you feel your cheeks gradually getting hotter and hotter, redder and redder. « i think that…i’m in love with you, too. »

you stop, and her gaze softens. yours does too. « i love you, tara. a lot. i thought you were disgusted by me or…you didn’t want me around anymore. but god, i’m so in love. » you calmly declare, her fingers brush against your cheeks softly, with tenderness.

« i could never be disgusted or change my mind about you, you’re pretty dumb. »

giggles echo in the air, and she leans in, her breaths quiver at the intimate closeness you both have now. everything fades out, and you both look at each other in need, in need for the physical contact you both are craving. she scans your face as your breaths intertwine, and then her lips found yours, after months of research.

it’s perfect, you kiss back without even thinking about it, like you were born for this: to kiss her, to have her with you. you cup one of her cheeks with your shaky palm, the touch is soft and warm, and her lips are too. no anger is held in the kiss, only the affection you both feel, gentle in its essence. your heart stumbles in its rhythm, and you fear that she can hear it beating erratically too.

she breaks the kiss hesitantly, and you don’t know how long the kiss lasted — seconds? minutes? — but it just made you even more infatuated with her. her forehead rests against yours, her brownish hues shining with satisfaction, her lips curled up in a soft smile. you can still feel those lips against yours, or maybe you simply want them to be there again.

but you’re fine, you finally are. there are things you both need to work on, but you know that, until you’ll have her, you’ll be content and wanting to be better.

« i promise i will take care of you. » you whisper, you can’t help but smile, showing your teeth.

« i will take care of you, too. »

[satorus-lover]

— JEALOUSY

ran sees you hanging out with kakucho and he gets really Jealous (i’m not good at writing these stuff)

pairing: Bonten!Ran x Fem!Reader

genre: Smut !!

content warning: (18+) mature content

notes: this is my first time writing smut so i wanna apologize if this is bad T_T I also wrote this in a document in english/physics class for my friend :3 also i’m so sorry for the end this was sitting in my drafts for a really really long time and i don’t even know what to write 😭

“c’mon. we’re leaving” Ran says, grabbing your arm harshly while leaving the club

once you and Ran got outside of the club you yank your arm always from him, scoffing, “why? you wanted to come here so badly” you cross your arms and rolled your eyes

Earlier your boyfriend, Ran Haitani begged you to come to the club with him because Kokonoi and Sanzu was hosting it. He told you he wouldn’t wanna go unless you went. You didn’t wanna go but your boyfriend begged and begged until you finally agree to go with him.

“You were all up on Kakucho! why would I wanna see my Girlfriend all up on my co worker” Ran said angrily.

he grabs your arm again, dragging you to the car. Once you and Ran got to the car, Ran puts you in the passe-nger seat and slammed the door. you buckle up slowly, looking at the side mirror to see what Ran was doing. He was talking to his younger brother Rindou. After a couple of minutes of them talking and you just looking through the side mirror, trying to figure out what they are saying, you make eye contact with Rindou. He mumbles something to Ran before walking back inside the club. Ran gets in the car and he starts driving home.

You glance over at Ran, His knuckles were turning white as he grips on the wheel and he was clenching his jaw.

he’s mad.

something about him being mad turned you on. You quickly turned to the window as you feel your face turning red. You slowly rub your thighs together to gain friction. Your breathing becomes wobbly as you gain some sorta friction and you began to grip on your seatbelt. you continue to rub your thighs together until your body jerks as the car abruptly stops.

you look out the window and notice you guys already got home. Ran unbuckles his seatbelt and he gets out the car, slamming the door. You slowly unbuckle your seatbelt, Ran opens your door and he picks you up from the car,

“Ran-“ you yelp

He walks into the house and lightly throws you on the couch. you sit up and look at him as he is pulling a stool up in front of the couch. He sits down and crosses his arms, just staring at you.

“I want you to play with yourself in front of me.”

“w-what” Ran let out a deep chuckle

“you heard what I said” you bite your lip, “why do you want me to do that…” you whispered loud enough for him to hear

You don’t know why you whispered. It was just the two of you guys in the house. The maids left for the night and Rindou is at the club still.

Maybe it was probably cause you were nervous…

or maybe..Just maybe because you were having sinister thoughts about Ran fucking you on this couch.

“don’t act like I didn’t see you rubbing yourself in the car y/n” your face grew red and he laughs, “what a dirty slut..” you close your legs as you felt yourself getting wet at his words.

tears welled in your eyes, due to embarrassment

“don’t go making me feel bad for giving you this punishment” he tells you

you wipe your tears away and look at him, “if you go through this punishment i’ll give you whatever you want” he smile at you, “what do you say hm” you nod your head

“good girl.”

you slowly side off your dress, leaving you just in your bra and panties. You bite your lip as your move your panties to the side. you prop your legs in a way were Ran can see what you’re doing. You slowly slide your right fingers up and down against your wet folds, your breath hitched as your finger slightly touched your clit. you slowly insert two digits inside of of you, you gasp at the feeling. As you are sliding your fingers in and out of you, with your left free hand you start rubbing your clit, You gasp as the feeling of pleasure. your back arch and you began moaning Ran’s name, imagining it’s his fingers inside of you instead of yours.

“f-fuck” you whimpered, this isn’t enough for you. you look over at your boyfriend who is palming his hard cock. his breathing becomes shaky as he is watching you finger yourself.

you continue for a little longer until you began to see white, your body jerked “R-Ran” a high pitch moan came out. “i-i’m close” you moaned out.

Right before the knot in your stomach could release, your fingers were quickly taken out of you. you whine as your clench your walls around nothing. You look at your boyfriend, who was hovering over your while pining your arms above you. “Why would you do that” you started tearing up “i was close”

you were sexually frustrated. You were about to finish until he took that away. Ran let’s put a low chuckle and he looks at you with an innocent smile, “this is a punishment remember” with one hand he moves a strain of hair away from your face “bad girls don’t get to cum”

Ran sits on the couch and he motions you to fix the growing tent in his pants. You kneel down between his legs. You pull down his pants along with his boxers. his cock springs up, hitting his stomach. your eyes widen you had sex with Ran multiple times but you always forget how big he is. His cock was thick and long, you don’t think you can fit it all in your mouth. You look at ran and then back at his red angry tip as Pre cum oozes out from it.

“you can take it, i know you can” Ran pats the back of your head

you lick the pre cum before taking all of him in.

this was gonna be a long night…

-

[kaminocasey]

We Were Golden Part 5

Summary: You get to Cut and Suu's. Tension between you and Hunter starts to rise.

Pairing: Ex!Crosshair x Reader / (Eventual?) Hunter x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Smut in a dream (oral f receiving), angst

WC: 4.2K

A/N: Wow, it's been a hot minute since I've updated and I'm so sorry. That season 3 trailer really put my ass in gear, huh? Lol.

We Were Golden Masterlist │ TAGLIST FORM

(pictures from Pinterest)

“Fuck, you’re so pretty…” Crosshair groans softly in your ear as he teases your clit with his slender fingers, with you pushed up against the fresher sink.

Letting out a soft whimper, you catch his lips in a passionate kiss, needing more of him. 

You and Crosshair have been together for three months and within those three months, there hadn’t been a day that the two of you hadn’t found yourselves like this in the fresher, locked away, enjoying each other. In the midst of war and battles, all you could do was cling to these little moments. 

He drops to his knees, latching his perfect lips to your cunt, determined to make you cum harder than the night before and the night before that and so on. 

“Cross-” You gasp, gripping his silver hair tightly, desperately.

“That’s it, Princess.” He praises you, slipping a long, slender finger into you. “Want you to cum on my face just like this.” 

You wake up with tears in your eyes, sitting up to wipe them with your sleeve. When you look up, you find Hunter sitting in his bunk across from yours, watching you. The look on his face is of concern but he’s clearly trying to give you space. 

“You… okay?” He asks you, but you shrug with a sniffle. “You wanna talk about it?”

You shake your head. “Not really.” 

What was there to say? 

You left Crosshair back on Kamino… you’re a terrible partner… how could you live with yourself? He would’ve never done that to you. Right?

“It’s not your fault, you know.” Hunter murmurs across to you, softly. 

He’s always been able to read your mind and usually, it’s endearing. But right now, you’re still slightly resentful of him, even though you really don’t want to be.

“No, I suppose not…” You stare at him.

But he reads your mind again. Your eyes still say It’s yours. Even though you don’t really believe that. 

“I know…” He nods. “I’m sorry…” 

“I know you are.” You sigh. “It’s just… hard.” 

He puts his feet down on the ground and leans forward to you, his forearms resting on his thighs.

“We’re going to get him back, okay? I just had to get the kid out of there.” Hunter murmurs, glancing down the hall at Omega, who’s asleep against Gonky. 

“I get it…” You sit up, your legs resting against his as you lean on your forearms as well. “I really do…”

The two of you are closer now, looking at each other. It’s almost comforting, after sleeping in the empty bunk, missing Crosshair’s presence. But then, you’re hit with the memory that he shot at his own brothers… tried to stop you from getting to safety. This new him… what if it’s permanent?

“I just…” You look down at your hands, clasping them together. “I miss him… and it’s weird… because that person we left behind… was not Crosshair. And I keep thinking… what if we can’t get him back to normal?” 

“We’ll figure it out if it comes to that.” He pats your hand and you place your other hand over his, nodding. “I think Crosshair was sort of right… Maybe I’ve been making bad calls-”

“Stop.” You squeeze his hand, catching his eye so that he looks at you. “You’re doing what you think is best for this squad. I told you a long time ago that I would follow you to the ends of the galaxy, Hunter. You’re a good leader. A great one. And there’s no one else I’d rather follow.”

You don’t miss the way he glances at your lips, but you choose to ignore it. 

“Would you really follow me to the ends of the galaxy?” He smiles, softly.

You roll your eyes, smirking, bumping your knee against his. “You know I would.” 

You hear Echo clearing his throat in the doorway and as you look up at him, you and Hunter separate as if you’ve been caught in some compromising position. 

“What is it?” Hunter asks, standing up. 

“Should I move the kid?” He looks down at Omega behind him. 

“I’ve got her.” Hunter steps over Wrecker’s leg and scoops her up, carrying her to his bunk and laying her down gently.

You ignore the tug in your chest at the gentle action and lean against the wall, crossing your arms.

Hunter steps back into the doorway, looking down at her, chuckling. “It’s a first, isn’t it?” 

“Inspecting every corner of the ship finally tired her out.” Echo smirks. 

“Yeah, she’s curious. I’ll give her that.” Hunter glances at you again.

“Hunter, she’s a child. What are we going to do with her?” Echo whispers with a sigh.

You’d all been through a lot over the last 24 hours, but you can’t help the attachment you’ve already formed with Omega. She deserves better than what she was given on Kamino. You could all give her that… But also, you know that this life that you and the Batch have is incredibly dangerous for a child. Obviously, she needs someone and she’s very clearly already attached to you guys as well. Especially Hunter. 

Hunter looks to you as if you could have all the answers but you just give him an encouraging smile, knowing he’ll make the right decision.

“We are coming up on Saleucami.” Tech announces.

Hunter joins Tech up in the cockpit, leaving you and Echo in the bunk room doorway. Echo gives you a strange look and you raise your eyebrows.

“What?” You ask.

He shrugs, glancing at Hunter, knowing Hunter can hear. You’re sure he’ll bring it up later when you land. 

“You wanna wake her up or you want me to?” Echo asks. 

“I’ve got her.” You start toward Omega but she’s already sitting up, rubbing her eyes.

“Are we there already?” She asks and you can’t help but smile.

“Yeah we are.” You reply.

She immediately bounces up, ready at the hatch, but Hunter pulls her back.

“Whenever we land, I go first, so I can make sure it’s safe, alright?” He asks her, softly.

She nods up at him, her eyes already filled with wonder, as Tech lands the Marauder. Hunter still hasn’t told you who’s on Saleucami that they know, so you’re a little anxious, even though you trust him fully. 

Hunter hits the hatch button and it comes down, the steps ascending with it. He walks down the hatch first with Echo behind him, and then Tech, Wrecker, and you. Omega is the last to exit the ship and when you turn around to tell her to follow close with you, you find her shielding her eyes from the sunlight, clearly having never been used to such light before on Kamino. When she gets used to the light, you watch the wonder fill her eyes once again and your chest tightens.

“Huh? What’s with her?” Wrecker asks, confused.

All of the guys turn to look and watch Omega inhale the fresh air and then step on dirt for the very first time. You just can’t help but smile as she kneels down to the ground to sift it through her fingers. 

“Woah.” Omega looks at it falling from her hand, with wonder. “What is this?”

“That would be dirt.” Tech speaks up and you grin. 

You’ve wondered a few times what it would be like to have kids. Though, you were never fully sure if you wanted them. But looking at Omega experiencing things for the first time, brings you to a realization that maybe one day… it wouldn’t be so bad. 

You and Crosshair had talked about your futures many times, but never about children. Would he ever want them? 

What about Hunter? 

Wow. Where did that come from? You shake your head slightly, trying to clear your head as you look around you. 

Omega lets out a soft gasp. “It’s amazing.”

When she stands up, she giggles and kicks it around a little bit, sending it up into the air around her. You and Hunter smile at each other before looking back down at her as she joins the group. 

You notice Hunter quickly glance up at the sky when some thunder rumbles. 

“Come on. Let’s get moving.” He nods toward some fields. 

As you start walking through the fields, you keep a safe eye on Omega as she finds wonder in every stalk and plant and insect. Her curiosity is a breath of fresh air, honestly. 

When you glance forward, you find Hunter’s eyes on you and you go warm in the face and look up at the sky. Things were so easy a couple days ago. Now everything is so turned around and different. You’re supposed to be able to handle the biggest changes. To adapt. To survive. 

You hear Echo call your name and tell you to watch out. But due to your mind being elsewhere, you don’t comprehend what he’s saying in time and step into an unfortunately deep mud puddle.

“Karking hell…” You groan as you find yourself waist deep in the puddle, which just turns out to actually be a hole in the ground.

Echo and Wrecker immediately burst into laughter. You start to throw an obscene gesture at them but then remember the kid and just settle for a glare instead. With a grumble, you reach for your pack and toss it to Hunter who sets it to the side and starts to reach for your hand. You ignore it and instead crawl your way out. Wrecker ignores your protests and helps you to stand. 

Tech scans you with his data pad. “Nothing seems to be hurt or bruised.”

“Just her ego.” Echo teases.

That time you do throw up your finger, walking ahead of the group, despite not being entirely sure where you’re going. You can practically feel Hunter’s gaze on you now. 

“Anyway, this friend of yours, what’s he doing all the way out here?” Echo asks.

“Hiding. That’s what deserters do.” Tech informs him.

A deserter? 

“Staying off the radar’s not our specialty, but he’s been doing it for years.” Hunter speaks up.

“And you trust a deserter?” Echo seems unsure.

He’s always been a loyal soldier to the Republic. Of course he’d be wary of a deserter. But before you can point out that you’re all technically deserters now, Tech speaks up.

“Why not? We’re all deserters now.” Tech says what’s on your mind and you nod in agreement. 

Hunter speeds up a little bit in front of you, putting up his fist for you all to stop, just as you’re about to point out the trip wire. He even stops Omega as she was about to keep walking. 

“What are we looking at?” Omega looks up at him.

“A booby trap.” Hunter informs her, but Wrecker steps over it.

“Single trip wire.” He chuckles. “That’s cute.”

Just as he says that, he triggers a second trap sending a circle of battle droids pointing guns at Wrecker flying up around him. You quickly pull Omega behind you, like it’s already a reflex to protect her.

“WOAH!” Wrecker lets out a yell and quickly pulls his blaster off his back and shoots down the droids. 

“Easy, Wrecker!” Hunter shouts, trying to get the giant to settle down just as you realize the droids aren’t active.

Thank the Maker. 

“W-was that me?” He asks, confused.

Before anyone can say anything else, you all hear a female voice and then turn to look toward it. 

“What do we have here? More clones who have lost their way.” A pink Twi’lek woman and a man with her are pointing a rifle at your group. 

“It’s been a while fellas.” The man puts his gun down.

You quickly realize the man is a clone and you look to Hunter for some sort of an explanation. How do they know these two people?

“You look like you could use a shower.” The woman smiles at you, eyeing the dried mud.

“Yeah, you got a hole in your field out that way.” You tell them, back behind you.

“Sorry about that, I’ve been meaning to fill it in.” The man tells you as you start walking toward their house. 

When they let you inside, the guys all gather around the table and Hunter starts to introduce you while Omega starts to check everything out. You don’t blame her one bit. This small house has to be intriguing to someone who’s spent their entire life in a Kaminoan facility. This place, which is full of life and warmth, is basically the complete opposite of Kamino. 

“I see a few new faces.” The woman says after getting everyone a drink.

Hunter introduces you, Echo, and Omega and then the two hosts as Cut and Suu. Omega waves up at Suu, politely, and Suu waves back. 

“Pleased to meet you.” She tells you all.

“Ma’am.” Echo nods, politely, and you can’t help but smile. 

When you met Echo back in the 501st, he was quite smooth with the ladies. Since his incident, he’s been more refined and not as outgoing. It was also really hard on him when he learned about his twin, Fives, who was basically joined at his hip. They did everything together. And that included going out and finding women together. They were something, that’s for sure.

Cut looks up suddenly. “Where’s Crosshair?”

The guys all look at you and you get a soft pang in your chest. You and Hunter make eye contact for the first time since before you fell in that mud hole and he sighs. 

“It’s complicated.” Hunter tells Cut, pulling his gaze away from you. 

“Sounds familiar.” Cut smiles, obviously noticing the look between you and Hunter. “Rex told us about the clone troopers turning against the Jedi.” 

Rex?

“You talked to Rex? When?” Echo asks, more eagerly.

Your brain goes back to the 501st. You could never imagine them killing Anakin Skywalker nor his former padawan Ahsoka Tano. Last you’d heard some of the 501st branched off to help her and a group of Mandalorians. You know that yours and Echo’s brains must be on the same wavelength because you both share a look of concern. 

Rex would never hurt either of them. Right?

“Well, he passed through yesterday.” Cut tells Echo.

“Where’d he go?” Echo asks.

“Didn’t ask.” Cut shrugs. “He was going on about some behavioral implant.”

Omega joins the table, next to Hunter. “He must mean the inhibitor chip.”

“The what?” Hunter asks her.

“Inhibitor chips. The Kaminoans implanted them in the clones to modify their behavior.” She tells him. 

You look at all of the guys, confused. Inhibitor chips. So that means if that’s what’s making Crosshair act this way, it can be removed… right?

“Tech, you said the regs were programmed but you never mentioned a chip.” Hunter looks over at Tech.

“How else did you think it worked?” Tech looks up from his data pad.

Suddenly, the front door bursts open and two small children come running in. 

“Mom! Dad!” They yell. “There’s a ship outside!” 

“Shaeeah, Jek!” Wrecker yells, excitedly. “Remember me?”

They both yell “Uncle Wrecker!” as Wrecker scoops them up in a hug. It warms your heart how good Wrecker is with kids. You suppose it’s probably got something to do with the fact that he can be like a big kid himself sometimes. But the fact that they’re calling him “uncle Wrecker” means that they all know these people well. 

The girl, Shaeeah, turns toward Omega. “Who are you?”

Omega suddenly gets shy, peering out from behind Hunter’s chair. 

“Omega.” She tells them. 

“We never see kids around here.” Shaeeah informs her, grabbing her hand. “Come with us.”

The kids start ushering Omega toward the door and Omega looks back at Hunter, as if for reassurance that it’s alright. Hunter gives her the softest smile and a nod to let her know that it’s okay. With that, they drag Omega out to go play and Suu turns toward you.

“I suppose you would like that shower now.” She smiles.

“That would be great.” You smile, gratefully, taking your pack with you.

She grabs you an extra pair of clothes that she said she’d had lying around for a long time and didn’t need anymore and you thank her again as she shows you to the fresher. 

You shred your muddy clothing and hop in the shower, immediately appreciating the warm water. You let it run over your body for a moment before starting to scrub. 

Once the grime is off of you and your hair is clean, you feel instantly better. You get out of the shower, wrapping the towel around you. You put your shampoo and body wash back into your pack kit and pull out your brush, wiping the fog on the mirror down with the towel and then hanging it over the bar on the wall. 

You turn around and look in the mirror, seeing yourself for the first time since throwing up in the fresher back in the barracks on Kamino. You feel like you look different. Maybe it's because you aren’t necessarily who you were the other day anymore. So much has happened in such a small time frame, that would surely change anyone. 

You put the clothes that Suu gave you on, and notice it feels a bit snug. She’s obviously a bit smaller than you. Whatever. If you get uncomfortable, you’ll just borrow from one of the guys. 

As you walk out of the fresher, you see Hunter and Cut by the door. Hunter is in civilian clothing that Cut must have given him. You both just stand there and stare at each other because wow, he looks good with his arms showing. It’s not a sight that many get to see all that often due to the black bodysuits that GAR keep the clones in underneath their armor, and also because of said armor. 

Hunter’s eyes sweep down your body, taking in your form and he has to physically tear his eyes away from you by looking at Cut, who’s of course giving him a knowing look.

“We’re uh… heading into town. To book Cut, Suu, and the kids a shuttle offworld.” He tells you.

You nod. “Alright. Be safe.” 

He smiles, softly. “We will.” 

When they leave, you notice Suu’s eyes on you.

“Uh hi.” You clear your throat, sticking your pack with the rest of the Batch’s. 

“Are you two-?” She smirks as she takes your clothes and throws them in a washer tub.

“Ha. No, absolutely not.” You wave her off and go sit on the couch. 

She joins you on the couch, resting her arm on the back of it, grinning at you. “But you want to.” 

You shake your head, glancing over at the guys who aren’t even paying attention to you. Echo’s keeping an eye on Omega in the doorway. Tech’s nose is buried in his data pad and Wrecker is passed out in the recliner, mouth gaping open and snoring. 

“No. It’s not like that.” You shake your head. “I’m with or… was with… Crosshair.” 

“Oh…” She murmurs. “I apologize. I just saw the way that you two…”

You shrug your shoulders. “Hunter’s my best friend. We look out for each other.” 

“And what happened to Crosshair?” She asks.

That pang in your chest is starting to become familiar and you really don’t care much for it. You realize though that she’s probably asking because she knows him and is genuinely curious. 

“He chose this new… “Empire”. Or I suppose the inhibitor chip did…” You murmur, looking at the rug on the floor. 

“And you still love him.”

“Of course.” 

There’s no question. He may have broken up with you, but you’re still always going to love him. 

“But you have feelings for Hunter.”

It’s not a question that she’s asking. She’s telling you she sees right through your shit. But she’s not being rude about it. You don’t know what to say because what you and Hunter have is something too complicated, yet also easy. 

Complicated for others, easy to the two of you.

You’re sitting in the barracks by the window, watching the ocean rage on angrily, your knees drawn up and your chin resting on them. As always, you’ve never once seen a calm Kaminoan Sea.

You hear the doors slide open and shut and you assume it’s Crosshair come to apologize about your fight you had. Which have been becoming more frequent. And desperate to follow Hunter’s rules about it not affecting the group, you went out for some alone time on the Marauder and Crosshair got offended. 

Which is not only stupid, but also hypocritical because the man loves his alone time, which you’d pointed out and it only escalated things, making him storm out of the Marauder. 

“Hey.” Hunter’s voice is suddenly next to you as he sits in the window with you, but leaning his back on the window.

“Hey.” You look at him.

“Crosshair mentioned you’d had an… argument?” He raises an eyebrow.

You shrug.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He offers.

“What, are you trying to be my therapist?” You quip. 

He chuckles. “Just a friend.”

And that’s what Hunter became. Your best friend. 

After a while, Hunter and Cut finally return and Echo nods for Hunter to follow him outside. Which seems strange to you. Normally Echo isn’t usually shy about saying what’s on his mind in front of people. 

Unfortunately, your curiosity quickly gets the best of you and you decide to follow them once you think they’re far enough away. You watch as they head into the barn and quietly make your way that way so you can at least hear what they’re talking about. Being out of the know doesn’t sit well with you, that’s how you justify it being alright that you’re about to eavesdrop.

“I heard her talking to Suu… even Suu could practically see right through the two of you.” Echo tells Hunter as you lean up against the hale bay by the barn doors.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Look��� I’m not saying don’t pursue her… But… give her time to get over Crosshair. We can’t afford any fuck ups right now. If you’re both not focusing-”

Hunter sighs and you can already tell he’s rubbing his hands down his face in exasperation. “I am giving her time, Echo. I’m giving her space. Hell, I’d even give her the entire galaxy if she asked for it. Since when are you so nosy?”

Your chest tightens at Hunter’s serious tone when he says that last part. 

“Since I heard the hurt in her voice, and saw it in her eyes when they brought up Crosshair.” 

Hunter’s apparently not the only one who can read you like a book. But Echo’s right. You need time. It’s not like you can just move on from Crosshair in a day. You spent every single day together for a year.  

“You think I didn’t?” Hunter snips.

Deciding you can’t handle anymore talk about Crosshair, you start to head back to the house but end up tripping over a smaller hale bay, cursing automatically as you fall to the ground. You try to yank yourself up quickly, but are met with two confused clones, staring down at you.

“Uh, hey. Looking for Omega.” You cough. 

Echo snorts and holds out his hand to help you up. “Right.”

You take his hand and Hunter rights you, holding a hand on your shoulder.

“You two should talk.” Echo lets go of your hand and shoots Hunter a look and walks off.

Hunter guides you down to the hay bale, sitting on it next to you, watching Omega as she plays with Shaeeah and Jek. You sit like that in comfortable silence for a little bit. And for a moment, it feels normal again.

“Echo’s right. We should talk.” Hunter murmurs.

“I hate when he’s right.” You sigh. 

He lets out a chuckle and then looks at you. His eyes briefly fall to your lips before settling on your eyes. 

After a moment, he gets back up and starts to pace a little bit. It’s clear that he’s anxious about whatever conversation has to be had between the two of you. He finally stops to look down at you and then looks at the barn and goes into it, knowing you’ll follow him. Because that’s what you and Hunter do, apparently. 

You could ask for the galaxy and he would give it to you, and you would follow him to the ends of it. 

What does that mean?

He turns to look at you, leaning forward on the table. You stand across from him, crossing your arms. 

“Just talk to me, Hunter.” You murmur, softly. “Please…” 

He opens his mouth to speak but Tech’s voice falls over Hunter’s comm requesting both of your presences back at the house. Hunter lets out an annoyed grunt.

“On our way.” Hunter pulls the comm up and talks into it, never breaking eye contact with you.

Whatever the conversation was, it’ll have to be put on hold for now. Which, judging from the way that Hunter’s looking at you, is probably for the best.

TAGS: @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @idledreams @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms @wizardofrozz  @burningfieldof-clover @rebelsriley 

[skyfallslayer]

Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Chapter Five - Part 1

-A ST Rewrite Feat. Steve Harrington x Henderson!OFC-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🎲Summary: Hopper breaks into Hawkins Lab, while Nancy and Jonathan confront the forces that took Will and Steph. The boys, and even to their surprise, Steve, ask Mr. Clarke how to travel to another dimension; All while Stephanie frantically starts looking for Will after hearing his cries.

🎲Pairings: Will x Platonic!OFC; Dustin x Sister!OC; Slow burn! Steve x Henderson!OFC (Ex-bestfriends to Lovers); Slow burn! Byler

🎲Rating: Teen-Mature

🎲Word Count: 22,544 (In Total)

🎲Date: 7/31/24

🎲Warnings: Heavy Angst; Heavy Language & Dialogue; References To Broken Friendship; Mental Strain/Breaking Down; Physical Fighting; Lying; "Death"; Funerals; Crying; Talks of Corpses; Being Drugged; Brief Alcohol Consumption; Unwanted Touching; Suggestive Dialogue; Suicidal Thoughts; Minor Blood; A Certain "Curse" Comes Into Play Early; The Byers Family's Mental Strain; Hopper Being a Great Cop & A Total Mess; Dustin Being a Gangster & A Overprotective Brother; The Harringtons' A+ Parenting; Steve's Emotional Damage & Signing Up To Be A Babysitter; Stephanie & Will Deserved All The Love, man. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

(And let me know if I missed anything)

🎲A/N: Heads up, Readers! This document is split between two parts. For some reason Tumblr said I reach my 1,000 space limit, or something like that and wouldn't let me post it because it's so long. But at the very end of this part will be a spot you can click on for the next. Hopefully where I cut it off makes sense. Hope y'all in for a treat :) - And as you probably will notice when you're reading this, I left out Lonnie, Joyce's ex-husband. I left the scene out of chapter two where Jonathan goes to meet him and inform him that Will is missing. I felt like I really did need to write that, kind of like I don't feel like writing him in this chapter either. He doesn't exactly benefit this story, and this chapter/episode, is the last appearance of the character anyway, so... I just decided to just cut him, and replace his intense "dialogue" with a scene between Joyce and Jonathan. Hope you understand, and enjoy this chapter ❤️

Hopper wasn’t sure what he was even doing or thinking anymore. He got the answers he was looking for, but there were still some follow up questions about those answers that he needed to know. When the horrible, horrible thought crossed his mind about breaking into the morgue and seeing if the poor kids’ bodies were even real, he barely even hesitated. Why he didn’t hesitate kind of scared him. I mean, did deep down he know his doubts might be real?

So he swallowed and drove over to the place, still in his street clothes, hat discarded in his seat, and smelling like cigarettes and three hour old alcohol. He got out of his car, parking illegally, and was surprised to see the receptionist outside the door.

“Hey, Patty. Heading home?” He said, and she perks up upon seeing his face.

“Oh, Chief. Perfect timing. I was just debating if I should call you or not.” She says, confusing him.

“Is there a problem?”

“I…” She sighs. “I-I don’t know. About… ten minutes ago, I would say, a young lad came in and said his brother left something behind and wanted to retrieve it. I let him do it, but I noticed he hasn’t come back. And when I try calling out to the officer in the back I get no response. Frankly, I’m a little freaked out to investigate myself.”

A young lad? An officer? That’s weird. “Did you recognize this man? The one who came in?”

“I don’t recall seeing him this morning. Just Ms. Byers, her son and of course Ms. Henderson. But that’s all I’ve seen all day.” Patty explains before pointing in the distance. “I’m assuming that’s his car.”

Hopper follows her finger, a familiar black BMW was parked a few feet away. If it wasn’t for her pointing it out, he surely would have missed it since the area had poor lighting. It didn’t take him long to realize who’s car that was.

He puts on a front to calm her. “I’ll see what’s going on. Just wait right here. I’ll make it quick. ‘Kay?”

“Okay. Thank you, Chief.”

As soon as he’s inside, his hand is already on his holster. Judging by the car, he knew the Harrington kid was here, which he’s not exactly sure why; But to be honest, him being here was his least concern at the moment. He was more concerned about another officer being here. I mean, this was a morgue, people unfortunately die all the time, whether it was just natural or part of a crime; So it didn’t make any sense why the murders of two local kids would get special treatment.

His mind of course wanders back to the bar earlier where he had to beat the crap out of O’Bannon just to get some answers.

.

“Okay…” Hopper pins him to the wall. “Let’s try this one more time.” He grabs the man by the chin, squeezing. “Who told you to be out there? What were you doing out there?” He watched for an answer, and when he wasn’t getting any, he dialed back his fist.

“I don’t know!” David shouts. “I don’t know. They… they just told me to call it in and not let anybody get too close.

“Get close to what?!”

“The bodies.”

.

The bodies. Someone told him not to get close to the bodies. There was something about Will and Stephanie’s bodies that no one was supposed to get close to, and needed a cop to guard the morgue.

And I am a little afraid to find out why though. As Hopper got closer to the back, he immediately saw something that made him draw out his gun. The cop, whom he didn’t recognize at all, was lying unconscious on the floor (At least he hoped he was unconscious). He runs over quietly, and squats down to check for a pulse. Breathing. That’s good.

Now for the real question is… why was he unconscious? Was this the teenager’s doing? He frowns and pushes open the unlock door carefully, and steps inside. The cold temperature hits him hard but he doesn’t shiver; Maybe it was the adrenaline that was pumping in his veins, and pulled his heart to his feet. It was so eerily quiet, it was like straight out of a horror movie. He had half expected someone to come through the shadows with a knife. As he move inland more, he heard some shuffling and someone muttered, ‘What the fuck’, and then decided to push open the door to the fridge.

He must have startled the other party, which so happened to be the Harrington kid, brown eyes blown wide and (Oh, the irony) a knife pointed his way. They both stared at one another in silence, both surprised to find each other here…

Both surprised that they had the same idea/doubts.

Hopper’s eyes trailed past the boy’s shoulder, landing on the table where he could see the top of the dead girl’s head. What is he–

Then he stops himself when he notices something else. In the tips of Steve’s fingers, he sees a small ball of… cotton. Afraid, but he didn’t show it, he starts walking towards the table, lowering his weapon as Steve sidesteps to give him room – Hopper’s heart almost stops. He sees the incision immediately, and the white fluff pooling out of it. The two of their gazes meet, silence was enough to tell the adult everything. 

Deciding he needed to know more, he pulls the sheet back over the body and slides her back in before searching for another one. In the drawer below, he pulls out Will’s body and pulls the sheet back. It was still a sickening sight to see, despite knowing damn well it was a fake; But he still needed to know. Still not saying any words, Hopper holds his hand out and Steve gets the message and hands over his blade.

With no hesitation, Hopper digs into the realistic flesh, the flesh that was dry and had no prior incisions like it should have, and pulls out the same fluff like the last one. 

Oh, my God. His doubts were real. The bodies were fakes. But if that was the case, where were the children? Closing the blade and handing it back, Hopper grabs the teenager by the bicep and strings him along. “Come on.”

They leave in a hurry, only slowing their pace when they see Patty outside. Hopper puts on a cheeky smile, still holding onto Steve. “Dang, teenagers. Always wanting to do a good prank.” He chuckles. “Everything’s all good. Goodnight, Patty.”

“Uh…” She stares at him, slightly confused but still waves goodbye. “‘Night, Chief.” He drags the boy back to his car, glancing back to make sure she was inside before exploding. 

“Hey, listen–” Steve begins, as he tries to wiggle out of his hold.

“What did I say about forgetting our conversation at school?” Hopper snaps, and let’s go.

He scoffs and gives him a look. “How could I forget? Especially the way you reacted? How could I forget all that?”

“Listen, son, whatever this is–” The adult gestures around. “Is dangerous. Something’s going on, and it’s a dangerous slope.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You know?” Now it was Hopper’s turn to scoff. “Then why the fuck are you running head first into this?”

“‘Cause I had doubts too. I thought about everything, and nothing’s adding up, Chief.” Steve explains, getting a groan from the man. “Nothing’s making sense. They said the two of them drowned in the Quarry, but I highly doubt that. But, who knows! Maybe they did get pushed towards the Quarry, but they also took a shotgun with them. If someone was chasing them to a cliff, why didn’t they use the gun? Why did they feel like they had to make their bodies fake? Were they actually taken and not lost? Or–”

“I’m going to stop you right there.” Hopper says, holding his hand up. “I know you have questions, I get that, but you really need to stop and let me handle it.”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m not letting this go.”

“You should. Before you get hurt.”

“They stuffed my friend like she was a fucking stuffed animal!”

“I thought she wasn’t your friend anymore?” Hopper asked, and Steve shut his mouth and looked away. His face softens a tad. Just a tad. “Listen, something is definitely going on, that’s as clear as day. But when I poked around today, I noticed someone was following me, which means I’m getting close to something that I’m not supposed to.”

“That means you’re on the right track then.”

“Yes. But that’s a track that I don’t want you on.”

“Chief–”

“Steve.” Hopper steps closer, and grabs him by the shoulder. “I know this is an emotional time, but I need you to trust me, and let me do this. Please.” He swallows the lump in his throat. “I can’t see another kid get hurt or die on me. So trust me, and stay away. Okay?”

Steve nods slowly. “Okay.”

“Good. Go home. Be safe. And please, do not do anything stupid.” He warns, because he’s about to do something stupid. But Jim Hopper doesn’t really know Steve Harrington all that well.

Because the teenager was already planning on doing something stupid too.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

Besides the migraine, Stephanie wakes up to the sound of screaming. She shoots up from her sleeping form, big blue orbs blown wide and adrenaline starts to spike. Memories came in slowly, remembering the way her body basically gave her the finger and shut off on its own, falling into the deepest, but dreamless sleep. Her body felt colder than usual, and hugs herself for warmth.

What is… She winces at the pain in her temples spike, followed by a small drop of blood coming out of her nose. Slowly, she reaches up to touch, her fingertips stained red. She wonders if she hit her head too hard when she fell over. That could explain the headache, the nosebleed and the feeling of being in a fog. Hopefully she didn’t give herself a concussion. That’s the last thing she needs.

And that’s when she hears the scream again.

She felt a shiver, not from the cold, run down her spine immediately. She knows that scream so familiar now, it’s engraved in the back of her skull.

“Will.” She mutters, and looks around. Sure enough everything was here except for him. “Will?!” And then another scream, and Steph wastes no time to grab her pistol and bolt back towards the house. “WILL!!”

Completely scared – heart beating, head pounding, blood trickled down her chin – and the thought of not losing her footing was keeping her going. She doesn’t know why he was gone. Did he run off on his own? Did the monster get him? She’s not so sure, and she doesn’t care. She just needs to find him and make sure he’s safe. 

“Will!” She shouts again, completely obviously how short the run time was,  and rammed through the back door and–

Right back outside. 

She stumbled to the stop, and her eyes burned in the light, the buttercream sun and the sound of peace, and the feeling of warmth she hasn’t felt for days now. Confusion hits her now, and she suddenly finds herself on her very own lawn that was connected to her very own home. She blinks, and looks around, spinning on her heels like a twirl. Everything looked… normal. No weird snow-like substance falling from the sky, no darkness, no weird plants that pulsate, and drop temperatures close to zero. She was back home, and totally not in a scary place she’s been stuck in.

But how did I– How did I get back here? She touches her head, thinking. None of it made sense. She ran through Will’s back door and now she’s here? Back at her home? The normal version? This doesn’t–

Then, a car pulled into the driveway, making her breath get taken away. It was a 1960s station wagon, her Mom’s car, her Mom’s old car, The one that had gotten totaled in an accident years ago. 

She tilts her head, squinting like it would just change at any second. Why is it–

Then the front door opened in a flash with another shocking sight. Her grandmother, the one that passed away when she was just a kid, was standing in the doorway with a huge smile on her non-sickly face.

// Oh, baby, they’re here // She says, and that’s when she’s hit with another strike to the gut.

Stephanie watched as her barely five year old self shifted around her granny, practically bouncing down the steps towards the yellow car. Her mother gets out first, with a small bundle of cloth in her arms, which her younger self was giggling about.

// Stephanie, come meet your brother, Dustin // She said, with a smile that touched her eyes and soul.

Her younger self laughed as she showed her baby sibling. // Hi, Dustin //

Stephanie stared, the confusion intensifying by hundreds, no even sure what else to say except, “What the fuck…?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hopper manages to sneak through the door just as a scientist left for the night. He was out of his mind, he knows that for sure, especially since he decided to trespass into Hawkins Labs that seemed more guarded the last time he was here. He was also more out of his mind when he decided to head inside the place that was blocked off and had two large hazardous signs on the entrance. Well… what do they say?

You only live once.

The hallway was short lived, leading right up to a door that was of course locked, and unable to access it without a passkey.

“Shit.” He said, unaware of the two security guards rushing up behind him.

“Hands up!” They shouted, guns drawn. “Forgot all the cameras, bub?”

Hopper decided to play it cool, his face calm with a smile as he slowly turned around, hands in the air. “Look, Dr. Brenner asked for me specifically. Okay? How else do you think I got in here?”

One of the guards raised an eyebrow, using a free hand to reach for his walkie. “What’s your name again?”

“It’s Jim Hopper.” A little chuckle. “Chief Jim Hopper.”

He presses the button. “Yeah, I’ve got Jim Hopper–”

And the Chief landed a punch across his jaw, sending him to the floor and grabbing his gun. He immediately points it to the other party, and pins both his arms against the wall. The guy over the radio shouts what’s going on, but Hopper ignores it and takes the guard’s weapon away from him too.

“Hey…” His fingers latched around the badge. “You mind if I borrow this one?” 

He plucks it off and swipes the card, never taking his eyes on the conscious guard until the door shuts. As soon as he’s in the dark room, Hopper shoots a bullet through the card reader, trapping himself inside.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, the boys were back at the Wheeler house, all lounging around in the basement, trying to process everything they heard on the radio.

“What was Will saying? Like home... but dark?” Mike said, pacing around, occasionally glancing at Eleven who was laying in a daze on his couch. He feels a bit bad that they might have pushed her too far tonight.

“And empty.” Lucas adds, face in his hands.

“Empty and cold.” Dustin says, sitting on the steps, a worried look on his face. “Wait, did he say cold? And who was he talking to?”

“Could have been your sister.” Mike suggested.

“No. He said my sister was passed out. There’s no way that was her.” Dustin groans. “That stupid radio kept going in and out.”

“Like home. Like his house?”

Lucas perks up with a snap of his fingers. “Or maybe like Hawkins.”

“Upside down.” El mutters from her spot on the couch.

“What’d she say?”

Mike was suddenly hit with realization and springs over to the table. “Upside down!”

“What?”

“Upside down.” He waves them over, and flips his upside down game board back over. “When El showed us where Will and Steph were, she flipped the board over, remember?” He flips it over again. “Upside down. Dark. Empty.”

“Do you understand what he’s talking about?” Lucas asked, meeting his other friend’s eyes.

“I’ll admit, I’m a little lost.” Dustin said, sheepishly. 

“Guys, come on, just think about it.” Mike pressures. “When El took us to find them, she took us to Will’s house, right?”

“Yeah. And they weren’t there.” Lucas points out.

“But what if they were there? What if we just couldn’t see them? What if they were on the other side? What if–” He flips the board back to its normal side. “This is Hawkins and–”  And then back to the blank side. “This is where they are? The Upside Down.”

Dustin gasps. “Like the Vale of Shadows.” It took his friends a moment to process the reality of this as he fished out his ‘unofficial’ D&D guidebook. He flips to the page he was talking about. “The Vale of Shadows is a dimension that is a dark reflection or echo of our world. It is a place of decay and death. A plane out of phase. A place of monsters. It is right next to you, and you…” He locks fearful eyes with them. “Don’t even see it.”

“An alternate dimension.” Mike realizes, terrified as well. 

“But... how... how do we get there?” Lucas asked, worriedly.

“You cast Shadow Walk.” Dustin answers.

“In real life, dummy.”

“We can’t shadow walk, but…” His blue eyes trail to their sleepy friend. “Maybe she can.”

“Do you know how we get there?” Mike asks, hopefully. “To the Upside Down?”

Unfortunately for them…

She shook her head no.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Will?” Hopper frantically called out into the darkness, frantically scanning the area with his flashlight. “Stephanie?”

From what he can tell, this area mimicked a hospital. The white walls, colorless floors, the cold. I guess he should have suspected the rooms lined in the hallway to be filled with beds, but what he wasn’t expecting was the rooms to be catered with a few stuffed animals and security cameras in them. He also got a sudden wave of sickness when he saw a drawing done by a child on the wall, one that looked pretty recent.

What the hell? And that was his last thought before he could hear alarms blaring in the distance. He was honestly surprised they didn’t sound it sooner. So with a gun back in his hand, Hopper raced frantically down the rest of the halls, checking each room he could find.

“Will? Stephanie? Kids?” He shouts, and picks up speed. Come on. Where are they?

When he reaches the end of the hallway, he finds an elevator. A slight blessing in some way, but he also dreaded what else he might find. Are the kids really here? Or is he really following a thin thread? 

“I see him!” Someone shouts just as the door opens. “Hey! Stop!”

Hopper just gives them a sharp glare as the door seals him inside, heading down yet another level. When he did arrive, this floor was a lot creeper than the last. This time it did have lighting, except only every other light fixture ‘worked’ (It was more flickering on and off), and there was something floating in the air – a substance that looked like snow, but wasn’t. 

“Will? Stephanie?” He manages to yell before breaking into a coughing fit. “W-Will? St-Stephanie? Kids!” He continued to cough, covering his mouth with his elbow as he continued his trek. “What in the world?”

When he entered the room at the end of the hall, he saw something he cannot explain. Stretching along the back wall was a very disgusting looking plant; Black veins shot out like the spiderwebs that were hanging off of them, and the middle of it, the core, seemed to glow a red hue and it was… pulsating. In a strange case of curiosity, Hopper couldn’t help but reach out to touch the stickiness.

What is this thing? And that’s when he catches something moving in the corner of his eye. He whips around, gun out again and starts looking around worriedly. And just like a fucking horror flick, a man in a hazmat suit came right out of the darkness and straight towards him. 

“Hey!” He takes a step back as a warning. “Hey! Hey!”

And then out of the depth again, only this time he did not see, another masked up individuals come from behind–

And plunges a needle into his neck.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Jonathan was rushing home rather late. His little… “shopping trip” was cut short by none other than a schoolmate, Nancy Wheeler. Never in his sixteen years on the planet did he think he would get a visit from her – and over something so strange. But now, he was trying to get back home, to tell his mother that she wasn’t insane, that he finally understood what she was saying these past few days.

When he got home the first thing he noticed was there was a big gaping hole on the front of his house. Distressfully, he did his best to rush inside, finding his poor mother shivering with a conveniently placed axe by her feet. It didn’t take a genius to put two-and-two together.

“Mom, what happened?” He asked, and she didn’t even flinch – almost didn’t acknowledge he was even there. 

“Oh… hey, Jonathan.” She said, the exhaustion made her look ten times her age. “How was the shopping?”

“Forget shopping. Jesus, you’re freezing.” He replies, slugging his jacket off and placing it over her. “Just wait right here.”

It took a few minutes to retrieve a few things from the shed, but he managed to nail up a tarp to block the chilly November winds. Holding back the urge to shiver himself, he focuses his strength back onto his mother.

“Mom.” He begins, sitting down next to her (He even takes her cold hands into his own). “What happened?”

“Oh…” She shakes her head with a sniffle. “Nothing, sweety.”

“No, not nothing.” Guilt started to eat at him a bit (Why didn’t he believe his own mother in the first place?). “Why did you take the wall down?”

“Jonathan, it’s nothing–”

“Mom… that thing you saw before–” He swallows “Did it come back?”

She shakes her head again. “Who cares. Maybe it was all in my head after all.”

“No, it was not.” Jonathan reaches inside his jacket pocket, pulling a photo out. “The thing you saw, is this it?”

“Jonathan–”

“Mom, please. Just look.” He gives her a set of pleading eyes. “Please.”

It took a moment, but she did. It took another moment for her to process what she was looking at. And another for the realization to settle in. 

“W-Where did you get this?” Joyce gasps, and points at it.

Jonathan takes a second to think over his story. “Two days after Will and Stephanie disappeared, I decided to look in the area they vanished from. Somehow, I ended up at a house where one of my schoolmates was having a party; Nancy was there with her friend Barbara. Remember Barbara?”

“Yeah, I remember Barbara.”

“Well, you know she’s missing right?”

“I’ve heard. So you…” Joyce gives a look. “You saw her before she went missing?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “But before you scold me, I ended up taking pictures of the people at the party, one of them happened to be Barbara when she was alone at the pool.”

“Jonathan–”

“I know, I said wait… Please.”

“Okay.” She nods. “Continue.”

“Okay. So I snapped a picture, and as soon as I snapped it, she was gone.”

“Gone?” Her look intensifies. “What do you mean ‘Gone’?”

“It’s like she vanished out of thin air. I thought it was weird. Kind of freaked me out too, so I left.” He frowns, scared. Even when he found out what may have happened, he still couldn’t wrap his head around it. “It wasn’t until earlier today that Nancy came up to me and asked to see my photos, from there she revealed she saw something at the house. A man with no face.”

Joyce covered her mouth with her hand, processing. “Oh, my god…”

“Mom, is this what you saw? Is this what came out of the wall the night before?”

She shakes her head eagerly. “Y-Yes. This is what I saw.” She replies, ending with a small sob. “I… I couldn’t hear them, y-your brother and Stephanie, but I just…” She touches her chest, her heart. “I-I just had this feeling that I knew they were there, right next to me and–” She sighs heavily, feeling like she’s losing her mind again.

Jonathan starts rubbing soothing circles on her back, still holding one of her hands. “It’s okay. Take your time. Just… walk me through everything. Please.”

Another sigh, but this time it was for her to steady herself. “Okay. I… started hanging lights, ‘cause when I-I was in the store I felt their presence, the lights on the aisle flickered, so I thought maybe I can get some reaction here. It took a few hours and I did. I said, one blink for ‘Yes’, two blinks for ‘No’. But–” She bites her lips. “It wasn’t giving me the questions I needed, so I painted the wall.”

“The alphabet wall?” He asked, gesturing behind them with his head.

“Y-Yeah.”

“What did you ask them? What did they say?”

“I… I-I really could only get one answer. I asked them, ‘Where are they?’. Then, they gave me a strange response.”

“Which was?”

“‘Right here’.” She points to the floor. “They said, ‘Right here’.” She frowns. “I… I tried asking what that means, but then they told me to ‘Run’. And that’s when that… th-that thing came out of the wall.”

“It came out of the wall, okay. Um–” His eyes glance over to the tarp. “Is that why you took the axe to the wall? Were… were you trying to see if it was in there?”

“No.” Another shake of her head. “I heard him. I heard Will a few hours ago, so I… I peeled back the wallpaper, and… there was this– this bubble type thing inside, and… a-and I could see him, hear him. He was talking, and he was scared. I asked him where he was, and he told me he was here, but it was dark and cold. And… s-something was coming for him, so I told him to run, and…”

“You took down the wall to see if he was there?”

She nods. “Y-Yes.”

“Okay.” He says, nodding to. He was trying to process this. “Okay. Okay. Okay. Um… shit.” He starts rubbing the side of his head. “I… I don’t have an answer for this.”

Joyce laughs quietly. “Yeah, neither do I.” She sighs. “I don’t know… I do know what to do. All I can do is communicate when I can get a hold of him.”

“Yeah.” He frowns. “I guess…”

Suddenly, the lights flickered for a few seconds, and the boombox flipped on. 

.

[ ♪ –or should I go?

If you say that you are mine

I’ll be here ‘till the end of time

So you got to let me know

Should I stay or should I go? ♪ ] 

.

Jonathan had jumped to his feet when it turned on, and got all defensive. “What the–”

“See?” Joyce said, touching her son’s arm to get him to calm down. “Your brother is here.”

The eldest stared at the box, imagining his little brother laying on the floor with his legs in the air, and adding color to a drawing he’d finished. He felt a bit relieved that his brother was still “around”; But it also made him feel terrible, because…

.

.

.

He has no idea how to get Will back to them.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

Will will admit… that this did not go as he planned or at least hoped it would have. He actually got through to his mother, he actually got to see his mother. Even if it wasn’t the clearest image, he could tell it was her. He wonders when the beast crawled out of the wall earlier it must have left behind some kind of doorway to the other side. The sucky part was, no matter how hard he pushed on that… disgusting bubble it wouldn’t budge. All he could do was explain where he was to her and hoping she understood before the faceless beast returned to hunt.

But Will wasn’t shaking this thing off. This thing seemed to be mad, a bit pissed off with the way the movements were, frustrated even as it let out a few growls and huffs of air. He tried to make a few runs for the door, but everytime it kept lunging and throwing him off track. He felt his heart pounding in his ears as he trips on something, losing the shotgun and literally crawling across the hallway to get away. 

He finds himself on the verge of tears at this point, wondering if this is how his life will end: By dying by a literal monster on his big brother’s bedroom floor. 

Will starts pleading quietly, the beast’s meaty hand reaching out towards him, and at the last minute, Will moves out of the way. The beast ran into Jonathan’s desk  before rerouting and stalking over his prey again. Will curls up into a ball in the corner, muttering ‘I’m sorry’ to everyone he knows…

Then his brother’s boombox fell, turning it right on, and causing the lights to start flickering like a rave. 

.

[ ♪ –or should I go? ♪ ]

.

The beast flitched hard, almost like it was hurt by the vocals coming out of the box. It made a distressful sound, Will uncurling himself to watch this turn of events unfold. 

.

[ ♪ If you say that you are mine

I’ll be here ‘till the end of time

So you got to let me know

Should I stay or should I go? ♪ ]

.

The thing lets out a shriek and starts jerking its head around, before calling it quits. It practically threw its body out the room, running frantically around the house until it finally got out and disappeared. Will followed carefully, poking his head down the hallway where he was met with silence again. The beast was gone. Like… actually gone. Scared away by The Clash? It almost seemed too good to be true.

.

[ ♪ It’s always tease, tease, tease

You’re happy when I’m on my knees

One day it’s fine and next it’s black

So if you want me– ♪ ] 

.

He comes over and shuts the boombox off with a small smile, and gets an idea. Rummaging around the filth, he started stuffing some cassettes into his coat pockets until they were full before shifting over to pick up the boombox until he remembered something. A boombox is a bit hefty to be lugging around, and what if it gets to be too much and then they have to ditch it? Then what? What could they use? That’s when he remembers his brother had a walkman lying around somewhere. He eventually finds it, and starts making his way back to Stephanie. 

Will did his best to carry everything in his tiny grip, still a little scared that the beast might make an appearance again (It’s not like he could whip out his gun quick enough ‘cause his hands are full), but now he knew it’s weakness. Who knew it was something so silly like music?

Maybe… this could be our way out? He wonders about that, and he also wonders about the way he communicated with his mom earlier. If the beast could travel to both worlds, could it also be their key to getting out of here? Could there be another gate somewhere? It was questions like these that were going to be hard to answer. Hawkins was so big, how long would it take them to search every nook and cranny for a gateway home?

This is something I got to run by Stephanie. Speaking of… When he got closer to where they settled down, he noticed she was actually awake; Sitting on her knees in the grass, looking like she hadn’t noticed his presence yet.

So, she is awake. Weird. I thought she would have run after me when reading the note I left her. But he shrugs it off. Maybe she was more understanding than he thought. With a huge smile on his face, he picks up his pace to tell her the good news.

“Hey, Steph. Before you get mad, I found a way to protect ourselves.” He explains, setting the items down next to her. “When I accidentally turned on the boombox, the monster got all frightened and ran off. I know that sounds weird, but it works! We can roam freely just by playing a song! Isn’t that crazy?”

He was expecting a scolding, maybe even a laugh, or a look of disbelief, but he certainly didn’t think she wouldn’t say anything. He doesn’t recall her being the type of person to give the silent treatment if mad. Will repeated the last sentence to see if he would get something, and that’s when he finally noticed something odd. The girl wasn’t… moving. She was just sitting there on her knees, slightly hunched over, looking like a statue.

He’s not going to lie, it was kind of freaking him out. “Stephanie?” He slowly crouches down in front of her, and brushes a few strands of hair out of her face and nearly falls back.

To his shock he finds her looking paler than the last few days, and her eyes were bloodshot red and dry, but that wasn’t what was scaring him. What was scaring him was the fact that her blue eyes looked unnatural, and that her pupils had completely disappeared from sight. To him, she looked like she was possessed. 

Will finds himself growing pale himself, completely scared of what’s happening to his friend. “Stephanie?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

Stephanie couldn’t help but follow them inside. Her grandmother was saying to Claudia all kinds of loving things, as her younger self wouldn’t stop expressing how much she wanted to hold her baby brother. It all seems so surreal, it felt like it happened only yesterday, but it was in fact twelve years ago. 

She runs up the stairs and through the door, as soon as she does, the memory changes. The three of them vanished, and the house looks like it was spruced up more in this scene change. Now, she sees her younger self was a little bit older, Dustin was too, and they both were sitting on the floor in the living room, playing a game on their Atari. 

// You’re cheating // Her brother pouts as soon as the score on pong changes to double digits.

She snorts. // How am I cheating? It only has one control //

// Still cheating //

// Dustin… //

Stephanie smiles at the antics. This was pretty much the same conversation every time they played a video game of some sort. It makes her laugh and feel good every time she thinks about it. But this still doesn’t explain what’s going on.

// Ugh, this doesn’t make any sense! // Dustin, a different version, yells from the dining room table. His head lays across one of his books as his big sister looks over it, perplexed. 

// I don’t remember learning any of this // She mumbles, scratching her head. 

// I’m going to fail… //

// You’re not going to fail //

// I’m totally going to fail //

The oldest shakes her head at his antics. She remembers this too, and despite the hardship of it, he still passed with a B. It’s still better than nothing.

She then nearly jumps out of her shoes when she swears something exploded in her kitchen. She rushes over, finding herself again standing off to the side in disbelief. That’s when she saw her brother standing tall and proud with batter all over his face. 

// Pancakes are done // He said, oblivious to her shock. 

She rubs her face, cringing at the time Dustin tried to make breakfast on his own which was a complete disaster. How he managed to burn and undercook everything was beyond her knowledge. Oh, Dusty.

Then, she perks up again when her little bro is replaced by her mother. Her hair is tied back, and she’s wearing her kiss the cook apron. “Mom?”

// Hey, Ms. Henderson? //

Stephanie gasps quietly and spares a glance to the side where the entrance to the basement was. Just like she thought, she finds herself staring at a young Steve Harrington, probably about eight years old.

“Steve?” She said, taking him in. A little stripe button up shirt, shorts and small bandage on his cheek; He was also flashing a grin with a couple baby teeth missing.

// Yes, Steve? // Claudia said, not taking her eyes off the stove.

// Can we eat downstairs? Fia and I are almost done with our game //

Fia. Her heart clenched at the nickname she hasn’t heard in such a long time. I kind of… miss it. 

I mean, her brother calls her Phanie which was special to her, but that was something only he ever called her. And Steph was just a common nickname to call all ‘Stephanies’. However, Steve’s little nickname for her was really unique and special to her.

Apparently it was still special to her.

Some more was said but she didn’t listen, and before she knew it, little Steve was running back down the stairs. 

“Hey!” She shouts and chases after him. As soon as she gets off the last step she finds herself somewhere different again. She was met with a few flashing strobe lights, loud music and lots of laughter. She recognizes this place rather quickly, it was the roller rink they built in the mall a few years back.

// Steve! Stop! // Her preteen self yells, looking like a newborn colt on rollerblades. She was hanging onto dear life to her best friend who could not stop laughing at her over reaction. 

// You know you’re going to have let go soon // Steve says, as she shakes her head.

// Nope. No way. I don’t want to fall again //

// Falling comes with the practice, you know //

She sends him a look. // Easy for you to say. You haven’t fallen once! //

// What can I say? // He starts slowly pushing her away, only holding onto her hands for support. // I’m just a natural //

// Steve! Please! // She said, a mixture of panic and laughter. // Come on! //

He hums, acting like he was thinking before he lets go of one of her hands. // Oops //

// Steve! // She warns, and slouches a bit to keep herself small so she doesn’t slip.

// Relax, Fia. I wasn’t going to let you go // He replies, truthfully, warmly. // I’ll hold your hand until you’re confident enough. Okay? //

// You better, Harrington //

// I will. Relax. Here // He pulls her back, waiting for her to steady herself again before explaining. // This is what you have to do. First– //

Stephanie couldn’t help but smile. She loves that memory so much. It was so perfect in her eyes. The all American boy was the most elegant roller skater she’s ever seen, and he was so dorky and teasing, but patient while teaching her the ropes. She wishes sometimes she could go back to this day over and over again. I miss this so much. 

.

.

“Little Stevie here can’t protect you any more.”

.

.

And just like that, the scene changes again, only this time it feels more heavy and darker – like it was sucking the soul out of her. She felt so scared all of a sudden, and when she blinked she was sitting at a bar top. The smell of booze, money and cigarettes nearly knocked her over… and sent a chill through her body.

N-No. This was a painful memory she was trying to forget. What was she doing here? What was the point of–

“Are you not having fun, Munchkin?”

Now that voice almost made her die on the spot. Terrified, she slowly turns to her left, finding the only other person inside the place. He was rather tall, 

A bit lanky but built, dark hair and blue eyes. The genes that ran so strong in this family, the genes that her and Dustin hated they both had. And he’s sitting there with a stupid smirk on his bearded face, one that makes her want to crawl into a hole or slap off. She almost couldn’t speak as she felt like she lost her voice.

.

.

.

“D-Dad?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Jonathan’s bitter thoughts were pulled back into reality the early next morning by his own mother, who was helping him with his tie.

“Why are we sending daggers at our home phone?” Joyce asked, heavy makeup covering her exhaustion, a black jacket clings to her body that acted like her blouse. 

His gaze follows back to the phone before back to her. “I know we agreed not to talk to him at all, besides it being pointless because Will’s body is a fake, but still. He can’t even give us a call about his own son’s death?”

She finishes his tie, frowning out of sadness with a hint of hate for her ex-husband. “Well, another reason why I’m not with your father. This should be a lesson to you, don’t just settle for the first person that gives you attention, or makes your rebellious phase feel ‘special’. I know I’m not the best mother–”

“You’re the perfect mother.” Jonathan pushes, wholeheartedly. “I know it was hard, but for someone doing it on your own, you always made time for us, loved us, and did only what you thought was best. A thousand times more than whatever dad did. I just…” He gets a bit teary eyed. “I just wished I believed you in the beginning. Maybe things would have been different.”

Joyce chokes down her own sob. “Oh.” She brushes a tear from the corner of her eye. “You’re going to make me bawl.”

He quietly laughs. “Sorry.”

“And you know, I’m not upset that you didn’t believe me. I never was, and never will be. I am glad that you came around though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “Jonathan?”

“Yeah?” 

“Don’t… don’t do anything stupid, okay? We’re going to go to the funeral, act like we’re in mourning, and when everything is over, we’re going to figure this out. We’re going to figure out what really happened with you brother. Okay?”

He puts on a good smile and nods. “Okay.” Jonathan agrees with a heavy feeling. He knows he agrees, but deep down he’s not. He’ll pretend to grieve, pretend that he mourns his not-so-dead brother, he’ll pretend that he’s not going to do anything with going through his mom first. In reality, it’s the opposite. 

In reality, he’s about to do the stupidest thing in probably his entire life. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Claudia Henderson had to fix her make up for the fifth time already, and she hasn’t even left the house, almost too scared to even leave the door. She was sitting on the couch, a ball tissues in one hand and her baby’s photograph in another. She was shaking all over, trying to hold down more sobs. Her son eventually appeared, dressed in black, pretty curls brushed back neatly, and had a glass of water in his palm.

She looks up, watching him silently offering it. “Oh, thank you, honey.” She replies, gesturing for him to set it down. He does, and scoots next to her. 

Dustin can’t stand that his mom is this way, and half of him wants to blurt out that something about his sister’s and Will’s disappearance doesn’t seem right, and the bodies in the caskets had to be fakes, but he can’t. He can’t go off a theory that has barely any evidence still.

“Oh… look at her face. I’m going to miss her pretty face.” Claudia continues, touching the picture. “Her little curls, her freckles, her… beautiful blue eyes, those…”

Dustin’s heart clenched. “Dad’s eyes…”

“Oh, not him. Not his.” She shakes her head, batting her honey brown orbs. “No. You and your sister’s are so unique.” She reaches up to cup her son’s cheek, him leaning into the touch. “Hers is like a sky and sapphire, and yours is like this cross of sky, this pale blue and, uh…”

He gives her a goofy smile. “A light denim jean.”

That got her to laugh. “A light denim jean, yes. That’s… that’s perfect.” She then pulls him into a hug. “It’s going to be hard, but we’re going to get through this. Together.”

Suddenly Dustin felt the wind get knocked out of him. What if… what if he and his friends were actually wrong? What if they were just imagining everything? What if his big sister was actually dead? 

What if… she really is gone? He couldn’t stop himself from tearing up, a single stray rolling down his cheeks, clenching his sister’s necklace in the palm of his hand like it would make her appear in his arms.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Now you know who wasn’t ready for the funeral? I mean how could he when he just woke up in a cold sweat and a dazed look in his eye. Jim Hopper finds himself on his couch, still wearing the same clothes (minus the jacket) that he seemed to have sweated through most of the thin material. It didn’t take long for him to remember what happened last night and immediately bolted up. He takes in his coffee table, which to him seemed way messier than he left it (Plus, there were a lot more empty beer cans than he consumed over the few days).

Grabbing his gun that was right in front of, Hopper wastes no time to run outside with it held high. But as he searched the land that he was all alone on, he didn’t see anything or anyone out of the ordinary. He almost started to doubt that last night even occurred. 

Almost. That’s the keyword.

Coming back inside, he examines himself in the bathroom mirror, trying to find the needle marking in his neck. It took a hot minute, the doubt was coming back until his finger picked up the tiniest drop of blood. Now, the paranoia was setting in, and that’s when he started tearing his trailer apart. Anything he could get his hands on, pictures frames, light bulbs, home phones, stereo system, VHS player, cookie jars, anything was torn apart in his hands. He even went so far by cutting open his couch cushions with a knife. 

In a hot, sweating, panting mess, he was about to give up until he noticed he forgot to check his overhead light. Just tall enough to reach it on his own, Hopper carefully unscrews the fixture and that’s when he saw it.

The bug. 

Plucking it off so hard that the wires ripped, he examined it close, the disbelief came first, and ended with sheer anger.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

I guess you could say that Steve “snuck out” of his home, dressed appropriately in black attire, still thinking about what his next “detective” move could be. The funerals were being held together to make it emotionally easier for the families, and everyone in town was welcome to come. His parents wouldn’t have approved, anyone associated with them wouldn’t either, but I guess the “good” thing about coming to the graveyard is that he wouldn’t have to worry about any of them. The only person he knows that will be there is his girlfriend. Speaking of…

Nancy was quick to notice after getting out of the car herself with her family. She was honestly surprised a bit, but didn’t let that weigh her down as she excuses herself to come over.

“Steve?” She said, as he flicked her a sad smile. “How… how are you?”

“I’m… I’m good. Really, um–” He replies, fiddling with his hands. “How are you?”

“Fine.”

“That’s good. How’s your brother doing?”

“Mike?” She takes a quick glance back his way. “He’s coping, I guess. I don’t know. He’s been really quiet.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” Steve says, nodding slowly. “Listen, Nance, I wanted to apologize for how I reacted the other night.”

Nancy shakes her head. “Steve, it’s alright. I get it. You’ll tell me about the relationship with your parents eventually. I honestly really don’t care if you do or not. It’s not my business.”

“I know, but still. I got a little snappy and–”

“Steve, it’s fine. I get–”

“My parents don’t like her.” He blurts out, silencing her. He watches her tilt her head, waiting for him to elaborate. “My parents never… approved of my friendship with Stephanie. She wasn’t up to their… ‘standards’. So…” He sighs. “My parents are probably going to gut me when they find out I’m here.”

“Gut you?” She asked, worriedly. Was it really that bad for him to be here? “Friends or not, she still was a classmate, the least you can do is show up for a quick respect.”

“Yeah, they don’t see it like that. They…” His throat felt dry. Every time he starts remembering a few things about his past, his parents, he just feels like he’s going to shut down and hide. 

“Steve?” Nancy says, pulling him out of the rut. “They… what?” She needs to know more, she wants to know more. She didn’t like that he looked like a kicked puppy. What has his parents done to him?

“She wasn’t like Tommy or Carol, or even you. Steph was sweet and caring, but didn’t dress like a girl should, she didn’t talk like a girl should, she didn’t…” He laughs, a mixture of nerves and distaste towards his parents. “She likes heavy metal, she likes to wear black and stomp around in big combat boots, and she would always do the craziest shit I’ve ever seen. She wasn’t the girl my parents wanted me to hang out with because she wasn’t a ‘girly-girl’. She fits in with the school’s ‘freaks’.”

“Steve…”

“Sometimes… I miss it. I miss going behind my parents’ backs to hang out with her.” He says, sadly. “But I… I had to end it… for her sake.”

Well that’s news. She thought, piqued. “What do you mean by that?”

“I–” His attention was caught by someone else arriving. “I… I’m going to go pay my respects. I’ll catch up to you later, Nance.”

“‘Kay.” She mumbles, watching him leave with a heavy heart.

Steve makes his way over to the family he used to call his own; The mother gets out, in her own head, while the brother immediately stops in his tracks – looking like a deer in headlights upon seeing him. 

“Ms. Henderson.” He begins, getting her attention (His throat felt tight again and his chest felt like it was being kicked in). “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Steve Harrington.”

“Steve?” It takes Claudia a moment to recognize him. “Steve! Oh, my gosh, I do remember you.” She smiles. “You’ve grown quite into a young man.”

Steve blushes a bit. “Uh, thank you. Um, listen I… I know your daughter and I had a bit of a falling out, but I thought it would be alright if I gave you my condolences. If you… approve that of course.”

“Oh, honey, I appreciate it. Friendships, I know, tend to end sometimes, and it can be hard. But I really do appreciate you coming.”

‘That’s good to hear.” He clears his throat and takes a step back. “I’ll be going now.”

“Oh, why don’t you stay?” She said, with her son perking up at the news.

“What?” Dustin said, a bit sharp for his mother’s liking.

“Dustin.” She turned and scolded. Her son gave her a shrug of disbelief, making her sigh. “Sorry. Do you mind staying for the wake? I think it would be nice if we can catch up.”

Steve was honestly lost for words. He’s guessing that Stephanie never actually told them what occurred… at least she didn’t tell her mother the truth. His gaze falls on Dustin who was pouting a bit and looking at the ground; The bitterness he probably had makes Steve wonder if he knew the truth. It was making him feel pretty shitty right now.

Jesus. If his mom wasn’t here I’m sure he would deck me by now. But Steve ignores this and just smiles. “If you insist, Ms. Henderson.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Jonathan, or course, ignores his mom’s pleas not to do something stupid. Him and Nancy had both stepped off to the side to discuss their findings, hoping to form some kind of plan of action. “This is where we know for sure it’s been, right?” He says, holding a small map of the area, some places marked with a red X.

Nancy leans in closer. “So, that’s…”

“Steve’s house.” He starts pointing out each mark and their meaning. “And that’s the woods where they found Steph’s car, and that’s my house.”

“It’s all so close.”

“Yeah. Exactly. I mean, it’s all within a mile or something. Whatever this thing is, it’s... it’s not traveling far.”

Nancy locks eyes with him, realizing what he was suggesting. “You want to go out there.”

“We might not find anything.” He admits with a shrug.

“I found something. And if we do see it… then what?”

He inhales. “We kill it.”

“Kill it?” She said, surprised. “Are you serious?”

“What? You want to find this thing and take another photo? Yell at it?”

“This is a terrible idea.”

“Yeah, well, it’s the best we’ve got.”

She shakes her head. “Jonathan–”

“What? You can tell someone, but they’re not gonna believe you. You know that.” He points out as she frowns.

“Your mom believed you.”

He averts his eyes from her. “She’s been through enough. It’s time for me to worry about this thing.”

“She deserves to know.”

“Yeah, and I’ll tell her when this thing is dead.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Dustin was leaning against the wall next to a table full of snacks and drinks, ruefully chewing on some knock off brand cookies. His daggers were set on Steve who was chatting with his mom for most of the wake now. He still can’t believe he even showed up, the same boy who broke his sister’s heart and reverted her back into a bit of a hermit. Now, he loves his sister, his friends do too (probably as much as he does), but he kind of felt sad that after being disowned by Steve she decided to hang out with them more. Times at the arcade she was always driving them; The past few Halloweens she’s been stuck with them; A few times a week at school they would sneak outside for lunch and have it together. It was sad that no one else wanted to hang out with his sister, and it made him mad in more ways than one because of it. 

Stupid ass people. He thought, taking another harsh bit out of the food.

“Uh, Dustin–” Lucas says, nudging him a bit. “Maybe try to be a little more subtle on the lasers you’re shooting out at Steve.”

Dustin doesn’t answer his question, instead replying with, “These aren’t real Nilla Wafers.”

“Alright enough about him for a moment.” Mike interrupts, and tries to be the reasonable one. “How do we do this?”

“Do what?” Dustin mumbled, turning and taking another handful of cookies, making his friend sigh.

As the boys were distracted a bit, Steve had finally finished the nice chat with Claudia. He almost forgot how sweet she was, and how he remembers he wishes his own mother was like that. It could explain why he was always over at Stephanie’s house when he was young (he kind of misses it). He excused himself for something to drink, only to accidentally wander into another conversation that couldn’t help but hearing. 

Mike sighs. “Mr. Clarke. We were going to ask him our questions about another dimension.” 

“Oh, right. Another dimension.” Dustin says, nonchalantly, his friends looking at each other with confusion. 

“What’s your deal, man?” Lucas asked, confused on the sudden attitude change (and both him and Mike know it’s not about Steve). 

“My deal is what if I’m actually wrong? What if they really are dead?” 

Lucas made a look. “Dude, I’m supposed to be the skeptical one here. And besides, you’re the one who told us about hearing Will over the radio.”

“This funeral must be messing with your head.” Mike points out. “Will and Steph are alive. Where they are, we don’t know. But we aren’t going to know if we don’t ask Mr. Clarke about dimensional travel.”

“Yeah, man. Don’t be so down yet.” Lucas pats him on the back, before pointing out something. “Look. There he is.”

The Wheeler boy makes the first move, looking a bit sluggish to suggest he was sad. “Mr. Clarke?” 

“Oh, hey there.” He says, sending them a bittersweet smile. “How are you boys holding up?”

“We’re in... mourning.” Lucas replies, pretending to be glum too.

“We were wondering if you had time to talk?” Mike asks, nervously.

“We have some questions.”

“A lot of questions.” Steve says out of the blue, shocking the kids who were not expecting this. As the kids looked like they were fishes out of water, Mr. Clarke was overjoyed to see him.

“Ah, Steven. I haven’t seen you in a while. My, you’ve grown to be quite the stud.” He replies, his ex-student bowing with excitement. 

“You flatter me. Uh… the boys here were sharing a few things with me that I couldn’t really answer.” Steve points out, still having no idea where this was going and hopes he doesn’t screw it up. “But uh, hey! I always remember you were a man of answers.”

That seemed to fuel the adult’s ego a bit and got him more excited. “Oh, well, I can certainly try. Uh–” He gestures to an open table. “Let’s talk.”

Mike sits and is the first to speak, “So, you know how in Cosmos, Carl Sagan talks about other dimensions? Like, beyond our world?”

“Yeah, sure. Theoretically.”

“Right, theoretically.”

“So, theoretically, how do we travel there?” Lucas asks, getting right into it.

“Ah.” Mr. Clarke nods. “You guys have been thinking about Hugh Everett’s Many-Worlds Interpretation, haven’t you?” 

The boys subtly glanced at each other, having no clue who he was talking about; Even Steve was trying to remember if he ever learned this when was young. But they shook their heads ‘Yes’, and went along with it. 

“Well, basically, there are parallel universes.” The teacher begins. “Just like our world, but just infinite variations of it. Which means there’s a world out there where none of this tragic stuff ever happened.”

“Yeah, that’s not what they’re talking about.” Steve blurts out, before realizing he spoke. “Right?”

“Y-Yep!” Mike said, nodding eagerly. 

“We were thinking of more of an evil dimension, like the Vale of Shadows.” Dustin replies, the anger disappearing for now. “You know the Vale of Shadows?”

Mr. Clarke’s face lights up a bit. “An echo of the Material Plane, where necrotic and shadow magic—”

“Yeah, exactly.” Mike butts in, quickly. “If that did exist, a place like the Vale of Shadows, how would we travel there?”

“Theoretically.” Lucas adds.

Mr. Clarke’s gaze locks with Steve’s, who just shrugs. “Hey, I told you I couldn’t answer their questions.” He says, rendering everyone silence.

The teacher took a moment to think this over. “Well…” He picks up an empty paper plate and takes out a pen, drawing two lines and a tiny stick figure on top of it. “Picture... an acrobat… standing on a tightrope.” He shows off his drawing to everyone, before holding in a position where everyone could see.

He continues, “Now, the tightrope is our dimension. And our dimension has rules. You can move forwards, or backwards.” He drew an arrow on each side of the figure. “But, what if… right next to our acrobat, there is a flea?” He draws a tiny insect next to it. “Now, the flea can also travel back and forth, just like the acrobat. Right?”

“Right.” They boys said, intrigued. 

“Here’s where things get really interesting. The flea can also travel this way…” He draws an arrow between the two lines. “Along the side of the rope. He can even go…” And another below it. “Underneath the rope.”

“Upside down.” The boys said, in unison (Steve just flashed them a confused look).

“Exactly.”

“But we’re not the flea, we’re the acrobat.” Mike asked, everything clicking in place. 

“In this metaphor, yes, we’re the acrobat.” 

“So we can’t go upside down?” Lucas asked, an undertone of concern.

“No.”

“Well, is there any way for the acrobat to get to the Upside Down?” Dustin asked, hopefully.

“Well…” Mr. Clarke jogs his brain. “You’d have to create a massive amount of energy. More than humans are currently capable of creating, mind you, to open up some kind of tear in time and space, and then…” He folds the plate in half, and aggressively pokes his pen through it. “You create a doorway.”

“Like a gate?”

“Sure. Like a gate. But again, this is all–”

“Theoretical.” Lucas says, almost rolling his eyes at how many times this word was repeated.

“But…” Mike shifts in his seat, another question lingering around. “But what if this gate already existed?”

“Well, if it did, I... I think we’d know. It would disrupt gravity, the magnetic field, our environment. Heck, it might even swallow us up whole. Science is neat. But I’m afraid it’s not very forgiving.”

The boys were left awestruck, all three of them looking at each other and agreed on something in silence.

“Wow, uh… thanks, Mr. Clarke.” Mike replies, standing up. “You, uh, really answered our questions.”

“Any time. Is there anything else I can help you with?” He asked, as they shook their heads.

“Uh, nope! W-We’re good. We’re, uh…”

“We’re off to grieve some more.” Dustin said, his friends agreeing.

“Yep. Thanks again, Mr. Clarke. See you at school.”

“Uh–” He watches his students leave, a little thrown off by the mood swings. “See you around.”

“I… better see what’s up with them.” Steve replies, taking a stand too. “It was nice seeing you again.”

“You too.”

Steve quickened his pace to catch up with the group that was now outside, a small part of him can’t believe what he’s about to do or say. “I didn’t know you guys felt the same way.”

“Why are you following us?” Mike asked, stopping with annoyance all over his face.

“Look, I didn’t mean to bud in, but it just so happens that you guys feel the same way I do about this situation surrounding Stephanie and Will.”

Lucas rolls his eyes for real this time. “Ignore him. He probably just feels bad.” He says, and they started walking away, wanting some time alone to think their plan over.

“No, guys, come on. Listen to me.” 

“Stop following us, man.”

“Guys, just a moment of your time–”

“Leave us alone.” Mike snaps harshly. 

Steve sighs heavily, the debating he felt was necessary was suddenly over and he finally lets it out. “Her body’s fake!”

And like pressing pause on a TV, the boys immediately stopped. It took them a moment, a solid moment to process what he’d just said before turning around and staring like he was crazy.

Dustin was the first one to speak, the fierceness he spoke with earlier had returned with a hint of disbelief. “What?”

Well there’s no backing down now. Steve thought, and went along with the punches. “I went to the morgue last night, with the Police Chief. Your sister’s and Will’s bodies are fake. I don’t know what’s going on, but whatever happened to them, someone doesn’t want people to know how, what or why.”

“You went to the morgue?” Lucas said, after another moment, to process what he just admitted.

“With the Police Chief?” Mike adds.

Dustin shakes his head, not sure how he feels about this. “H-How do I know you’re not lying? You’re the reason my sister was in a rut that whole school year.”

Steve frowns, apologetically. “Listen, I’ll admit I was an asshole, but despite that, I would never, ever lie about something like this. Even if someone I didn’t know, I would never snoop that low. And…” He shifts his weight around. “And if you don’t believe me, you can call the Chief yourself. Although, he’d probably be pretty mad because he told me to forget about what I saw. So…”

Forget being gutted by my parents later, he would definitely kill me on sight if he knew about this. Steve waits anxiously as the boys look at each other, mutely communicating like they were doing earlier. 

Lucas looks between them and shrugs (Even Mike does too, as Dustin looks a bit on edge still). “I think he’s telling the truth, man.”

“If he is, why bother?” Dustin asks, looking over at the teenager. “Your friendship’s been long gone with my sister.”

“Yeah, it has.” Steve admits, heart clenching again. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I know her, and when I found out the official ruling for her death, I knew something felt off.” His frown deepens. “I was going to do a little investigation on my own, until I overheard you boys talking about how you don’t buy any of this bullshit either.”

Although I’m still a little confused on the whole other dimension thing. But he kept his mouth shut for now as the boys looked at each other again.

“Can you excuse us for a second?” Mike said, turning around and pulling his friends into a huddle. “Listen–”

“No way.” Dustin says, putting his foot down.

Lucas sighs. “Dustin, look, I understand the hate for this guy, but either way, if we take him in or not, he’s going to be snooping around too. You know, you can’t beat ‘em, you join ‘em, right?”

“Plus, he is older, and he can get away with a lot more shit when things get tough for us.” Mike points out, and they all looked back at him for a second. “Come on, man. The more the merrier, you know?”

Lucas and Mike plead with Dustin with just a look, and soon he caves in.

“Fine.” He says, arms crossed. “But the moment he disrespects my sister, he’s out.” 

“Agreed.” Lucas said, and they disassembled.

“Hey, Steve?” Mike said, getting his attention. “You think you can come over to my house afterwards?”

-To Be Continued-

Read Part 2: Here

~

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[thelunarfairy]

Amane's past

I've been thinking about a pretty crazy theory lately. I saw in some posts about the desire of supernaturals to devour humans.

So I was thinking, right at the beginning there was that theory that Amane could be being abused by Tsukasa, despite the signs really indicating that it could have happened, the hypothesis was discarded.

Analyzing the situation carefully, Amane had no friends, there is no evidence that any student was bothering him (and the hypothesis was said by Yashiro) and even so, for Amane to always forgive, it wouldn't make sense for it to be someone random, there had to be some connection.

So that leaves Amane and Tsukasa's parents. There is no evidence that his parents were violent, which I think is unlikely as they could have done something more drastic and aggressive to Tsukasa, since his mother took him to be exorcised.

So, in the end, only Tsukasa remains. We see that Amane does not always appear injured.

Like when he is repairing a watch, but at the same time Tsuchigomori, while talking to Amane, says that he appears injured every day since he started studying with him.

Knowing that Tsukasa has merged with that "God" who usually grants wishes for a lifetime, I have been wondering about Tsukasa's "hunger". As I said at the beginning, supernaturals like to devour humans, Tsukasa is a supernatural, even though he looks like a human. When he returned home, he was no longer an ordinary human boy, he was a supernatural one.

What guarantees that Tsukasa wasn't always trying to please this God by using people? Just like he did in the temple when he granted the wish.

Perhaps, Amane may have given Tsukasa his body to satisfy this desire and stop his brother from hurting other people, which is why he "always forgives"

Mitsuba bites Kou to the point of almost biting off his fingers because he is so hungry. Why wouldn't Tsukasa do the same?

Still, we never saw Tsukasa devouring supernaturals or interested in devouring humans, but we also never saw him say that that possibility wouldn't exist. Remembering that the Tsukasa that appears with the seal is a Yorishiro, that is, it is not the original Tsukasa, after all, the Yorishiro is everything you love or want to protect most, it takes the form of that. Like Sumire for example, even though she has memories, that Sumire is not the real one, as the real one died many years ago.

The same applies to Tsukasa. Proof of this is Tsukasa's appearance to Nene at the festival, he was without the seal, considering that he speaks directly to her because he already knows her, it is a fact that that Tsukasa is the real one and not a memory of the past. Although Tsukasa has this ability to float through time, we are not sure if the Tsukasa from the past is Yorishiro or if there are two Tsukasas.

It's a bit of a crazy hypothesis, but it crossed my mind these days. The other hypothesis would be that Amane himself was hurting himself for some reason, but this would be in contrast to Amane's phrase "I will always forgive". Would he forgive himself? Also, there are rope marks on his arms, would he tie himself?

Other than that, the possibilities are that other people who could be important to him did this, but we don't know them.

Maybe Amane will always forgive him because Tsukasa wouldn't be able to control his hunger, just like Mitsuba. Kou was able to overlook Mitsuba's entire situation when he realized that without it he would die, so it would be okay for Kou to hunt supernaturals for Mitsuba to eat. Why wouldn't Amane do the same for her brother? The difference is that instead of supernaturals, it would be himself.

"I will always forgive"

Amane may have gotten tired of this and thought he had no solution left for Tsukasa, so he would kill him to take away his burden, and since Amane wouldn't forgive himself for killing him, he took his own life. Or, he just tried to get the "creature" out of his brother, but ended up killing him as a result.

[builtbybrokenbells]

Hate To Love You | ii

Read part one here

Read part three here

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 8.3k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, female masturbation, slight touch of (consenting!!) voyeurism, fingering (f!receiving), dirty talk, a bit of choking, unprotected sex (god please wear protection, im sorry i keep doing this), sex in a sort of kinda public place, shower sex, continuing to have sex while someone is talking to you ? Idk what that’s called but yeah, that, swearing, talking about toxic ex’s, fluff, angst, love triangle shit, sad Danny and Sammy (very much deserves a warning), sorry if I missed anything!

without further ado, here’s part two! Hope you enjoy :) also fair warning that this is actually kind of filthy by times 😭 I’m unsure of where that came from, but anyway. beware, this kind of has emotions all over the place. also disclaimer, I set this up as a terrible situation right from the beginning because for some reason i literally live for writing angst. i only started this fic bc i knew how i wanted it to end. it’s a character flaw now ig. please be kind and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!!

~

Your heart drummed in your chest as your hand slipped around the doorknob, opening the door and sliding through the crack. You let out a sigh of relief when the latch clicked behind you with no interruptions. See, the plan was that there was no plan. Just you and Sam inconspicuously sneaking off at different times and hoping nobody would notice that you’d both magically disappeared without a trace. So far, it had worked out in your favour. And if it hadn’t, nobody had said anything yet. It definitely wasn’t the smartest course of action, but it was the one you were going with. You decided you would reap the consequences when they made themselves known.

You took a seat on the couch of Sam’s dressing room, crossing your legs and leaning into the arm. Their set finished in five minutes, which was your cue to get moving. In no way were you willing to be caught sneaking into his room by one of his brothers after they got off stage. You checked your phone to see if you had any missed messages, but the screen was blank. You pulled up your camera, checking your hair and makeup to make sure you looked good. You sighed as you clicked your screen shut, tapping your fingers against the leather of the sofa with growing impatience.

The boys has started a small tour, just for about a month, and it was wrapping up in the next week. But, the month had been too long for your liking. It had been weeks since you’d seen Sam, or any of the others, for that matter. They had a show booked for a venue a few cities over from where you were living. You had managed to convince their tour manager, which you’d met a few times in the past, to sneak you in the back door so you could surprise Sam. Guilt was creeping up on you for not telling Danny about your arrival, but you were desperate to see the boy who’d been occupying your mind for weeks on end. You loved your best friend, but Sam had somehow wormed his way into your heart and showed no signs of leaving. He consumed almost every one of your thoughts. He’d been plaguing your phone with messages of missing you, and some rather provocative voice messages and photographs. He was making sure you wouldn’t forget about him. Little did he know, it wasn’t even a possibility that you could. So, you packed up for the weekend when the chance arose, just so you could curb the need for his company for a few more days.

So far, to the best of your knowledge, he had no idea. Before you’d arrived that night, Sam had texted you his daily countdown of how many days were left until he could see you. You were quite confident that you were still in the clear. One thing you hadn’t really thought out was how you were going to leave the venue without anyone knowing you’d been in there. And also, how the hell you were going to sneak in and out of his hotel room. You’d worry about that later, though. All you were concerned with was seeing the boy who’d been occupying your mind every night for weeks on end.

You’d fully intended on telling everyone about your’s and Sam’s new found relationship the night it had begun. Somewhere along the lines, the plan was lost in translation. The sneaking around had become thrilling, to say the least. Pretending to hate each other like usual, but sneaking off to a bathroom to make out, sneaking touches when no one was looking or from under the table, or leaving parties ten minutes after each other to go back to Sam’s place, was kind of hot. Plus, the idea of growing the relationship together first, making sure it would last before announcing it to everyone seemed most logical in your brain. But, above all, you were terrified of hurting Danny by telling him. Realistically, you knew deep down it might hurt him more by hiding it, but you were terrified of being the person to cause him any sort of pain. This had been dragging on for months now, no end in sight.

You were jolted back to reality when you had heard laughing and shuffling from the hallway. You immediately sat up, straightening yourself out. You couldn’t hide the smile on your lips, practically vibrating with excitement. You were eager to see his reaction when he came in. When the doorknob twisted, your heart could have exploded. The door pushed open and Sam stepped inside, not noticing you immediately. The door fell shut behind him with a thud. He was glistening with sweat, hair sticking to his neck, shirtless and barefoot. You had to stop yourself from giggling at the sight.

“Great show you put on, Sammy. Think I’d be able to get an autograph?” You asked sweetly. His head snapped up, eyes wide with shock. It took him a moment to process what was in front of him.

“Y/n?” He asked, still barely believing you were there. You jumped up, running over to him. He picked you up in a hug, kissing you as if it was the last time he ever would. You didn’t care if he was sweaty, you were just happy you were finally back in his arms. “What are you doing here?” He questioned, still holding you. Your legs were wrapped around him, his hands supporting your bum.

“I couldn’t wait any longer to see you, and I pulled some strings at work.” You whispered, kissing him again. It was soft, but imminent, showing him all the emotion you had pent up since he left. “I missed you so much, Sammy.” You whispered against his lips.

“You have no idea how much I missed you.” He said, resting his forehead on yours. “Does anyone else know you’re here?” He asked, gently letting you back down to the ground. You shook your head.

“As much as I love everyone else, I just needed to see you.” He understood what you meant, feeling the same way. “I drove here, so maybe I can just sneak out and meet you at your hotel once you get there?” You asked, hopeful. For the first time so far, sneaking around was much less than hot and way more of a pain in the ass.

“I mean, yeah, if you’d like to do that, we can.” He said, brushing some stray hairs from your eyes. “As long as I get to sleep next to you tonight, I’ll be happy.” He admitted. You couldn’t agree more.

“I just wanted to surprise you, I didn’t really think it all out too much. Five days just seemed so long.” You laughed, feeling a little dumb.

“That’s okay,” he rushed out “I’m more than happy to see you, trust me.” He let his fingers trail over your jaw, then down your neck and landing his palm on the back of your neck. He pulled you in for another kiss, much hungrier than the last. You could feel the shift in the dynamic before it was even over. “Bathroom, now.” He ordered once he’d pulled away. The sweet side vanished, quickly overpowered by desire.

“Why?” You cocked an eyebrow, challenging him.

“Because you’re going to get in the shower with me, and I’m going to fuck you.” He stated, simply. His eyes showed no hint of joking.

“I don’t want to ruin my hair and makeup. I prettied myself up just for you.” You smirked, knowing your disobedience to the order would get him going. “Don’t you want to appreciate it, first?”

“Oh, I have.” He paused, eyes looking you up and down. “I’m not going to say it again; go to the bathroom and take your clothes off.” He growled. You tilted your head to the side, staying in place, a sweet smile stuck on your lips. You always found it fun to mess with him. He was already tired of waiting for you, his patience never really existing in the first place.

“Make me.” Your cheekiness was quickly brought to a halt when he reached up, taking your throat in his hand. He was careful not to apply too much pressure, still terrified to hurt you in any way. He smiled, admiring the look on your face. He caught your lips in a kiss before tightening his grip slightly.

“I don’t think you want me to have to do that, sweetheart.” He whispered. You gave a nod, feeling your arousal pooling between your legs. “Now get in there and take your fucking clothes off.” You weren’t sure if Sam had normally been dominant in the bedroom, or if it was an extension of your relationship dynamic from almost the entire time you’d known him. Either way, you weren’t complaining.

He let you go, putting a little force behind it as he did so. You stopped yourself from stumbling and turned on your heels quickly, making your way to the bathroom without another word. You wasted no time ridding your clothes from your body, leaning against the counter to wait for him. You heard shuffling in the other room, presumably just Sam straightening some things out before he joined you. Your mind wandered to what he was going to do with you once he got you in the shower. You were out of your mind with anticipation; you had no idea how you went so long without having sex before Sam. Now that you were with him, it was all you wanted to do.

You couldn’t help but let your thoughts consume you, reaching a hand down between your legs for some type of satisfaction. You ran your fingers through your wetness, spreading it up to your clit, rubbing small circles. A gasp fell from your lips as you did so, but you couldn’t help but wish it was Sam’s fingers instead. You found yourself lost in the moment, not even noticing when the door opened until you heard someone speak. “You couldn’t even wait for me, princess?” A disapproving tone broke you from your concentration you quickly moved your hand, embarrassed to be caught. Sam moved towards you, now only clad in a pair of boxers. He grabbed your arm, roughly putting your fingers back to where they were before he’d interrupted. “I didn’t tell you to stop.” He reminded.

You watched him, cheeks flushed, trying to process what he was saying. His jaw was hard set, clearly worked up himself. Slowly, you returned to touching yourself, waiting for his approval. He took a step back, allowing himself full view. His breath caught in his throat. “Get up on the counter.” He demanded. You did as you were told without question, placing your hands on the cool surface and hoisting yourself up. You watched him watch you, feeling a knot form in your stomach. It had been far too long since he’d seen you like this. You placed your hands between your legs once more, but feeling a bit nervous being on display. “Don’t be shy, baby.” He said, reaching out and spreading your legs for you. “You wouldn’t have been touching yourself in here if you didn’t want me to catch you.” He said. Your eyes fluttered up to meet his. “Am I wrong?” You shook your head ‘no’. Although it wasn’t your original intent, a small part of you definitely wanted him to walk in on you. “Use your words.” He demanded.

“No, Sammy.” You said softly, feeling the anxiety slipping away.

“That’s what I thought.” His voice was gravelly. You could tell by his tone he was trying not to take you right there, but he was a bit too cocky to give in so quickly. “Get yourself off.” He ordered.

“Sam-“ you began to protest, but he cut you off.

“Shut up.” He snapped. You stopped, immediately scared that he wouldn’t allow you an orgasm at all. I said, get yourself off.” His hand was still on your knee. Although his tone was harsh, the loving circles he’d been tracing into your skin assured you it was an act. “Then, I’ll make you cum.” He assured you. “I just want to see how you did it while I was gone. Did you think of me?”

“Mmhmm.” You mumbled softly, picking up the pace in which you were rubbing yourself. “Wished it was you every time.” You mumbled.

“Oh so it was more than once?” Arrogance was radiating from him, but you couldn’t help but watch him with nothing but admiration. “Answer me, beautiful.” He said palming himself through his boxers.

“All of the time.” You answered truthfully. You let in a sharp inhale, feeling yourself getting close to your climax.

“I can’t wait to fuck you.” He admitted, hand trailing up your bare thigh. You could tell he was struggling not to touch you.

“You gonna show me how much you missed me, Sammy?” You wanted to put on a show for him, hooking your leg around his waist and pulling him closer to you. He let out a groan at your actions, tightening his fingers around your leg. “Are you gonna fuck me?”

“Don’t worry about what I’m going to do.” He spat, still rubbing himself, trying to get some relief. “Just worry about you. I’m getting impatient. If you don’t hurry up you may not get to cum at all.” You did as he said, quickening your pace and adding your fingers to the mix with your unoccupied hand. “That’s it, gorgeous.” He sighed, his eyes focused on your cunt. With the added stimulation of your other hand, you were painfully close to your climax. You threw your head back, closing your eyes and letting out a moan. Sam acted fast, grabbing your face in his hand and forcing your head back down. “Look at me. I want to watch you.” The statement caused your hands to stutter.

With his eyes locked on yours, gaze unwavering, you gave into the pleasure. Your orgasm hit you hard, way harder than it had in the past weeks. His eyes hardened, scared if he looked away from you, you’d disappear. Your own eyes rolled back in your head as you rode the high, desperate for air. “S-sammy!” You stuttered, almost as if you were praying to him.

“That’s it, baby.” He muttered, bringing your lips to his. He was painfully hard, already planning on getting you right off the counter into the shower. When he pulled away, you removed your hands from yourself, to which he immediately replaced them with his own. A strangled cry came from your mouth as his calloused fingertips brushed over your overly sensitive clit, but he didn’t stop.

“Sam, please,” you pleaded, trying to push his hands away.

“Stop it, you’re fine.” And he was right, you were. After a few moments of unbearable sensitivity, the euphoric feeling had hit you ten times harder. You were practically screaming your noises of pleasure, only fuelling him further. “Come on, princess.” He whispered, working his fingers into you. “I want you to cum like that for me.” And you did, clenching around his hand while crying his name. Tears were welling in your eyes as your legs shook, hips locked in a solid position. Your throat was hoarse, and you were sure the entire venue would have heard you if not for the concrete walls.

Just when you thought he would coddle you, maybe pull you in for a kiss, he removed himself from you completely. He walked to the shower, flicking the tap on. He threw his boxers away hastily and returned to your side. He didn’t utter a word as he picked you up. “Legs around me, now.” He ordered. You did as best you could to obey, barely being in the conscious mind. He stepped into the shower, still holding you, and pressed your back against the wall. The cool tile felt nice on your warm skin. He supported you with one hand while lining himself up with you with his other. He pulled you down on him, eliciting a groan from you. “Fuck I missed you,” he muttered, withdrawing his hips slightly and pushing himself back in. He stayed slow in that position, wanting to enjoy being close to you again without getting too intense. His head was buried in your neck, whispering sweet nothings while he sucked and bit marks into your skin.

“I love you, Sammy.” You mumbled, so fucked out you were barely aware of what you were saying. He paused his movement entirely, pulling his head away from you. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t-“ you rushed out, finally coming to your senses. When he dropped you to your feet, your stomach churned with anxiety. He didn’t say a word, but watched you meticulously. You were starting to panic, tears rushing to your eyes. “I’ll just… I’m gonna g-go.” You excused yourself, making a move to get out of the shower. He grabbed your waist, his fingers searing into your skin. He pushed you against the wall of the shower so your chest was flush, but pulled your hips back towards him.

“Say it again.” He barked, his hand now gripping your shoulder. He lined himself back up with you.

“What?” You questioned, unsure of what was going on.

“Fucking say it again.” He hissed.

“I- I love you, Sam.” You said with more certainty. He pushed himself into you, moving his hand to your hip. The steam from the heat of the shower was filling your senses, sending you back into euphoria as he started to fuck you again.

“Again.” He pleaded, all tones of assertion gone, replaced with a touch of desperation.

“I love you, Sammy.” You repeated, confident this time. His hips sped, pushing your face into the tile with every thrust. Something had taken over him, he was more animalistic with you than he’d ever been. You were driving him crazy by saying it. He leaned down, leaving love bites all over your shoulders, gripping you so hard you were sure he’d leave bruises. You let out a blissful moan as he hit your g-spot. He continued on at that angle, loving the noises you’d been making for him.

A knock sounded at the door just as you were both reaching your peak. You expected him to pull out, or at least slow down, but he continued on. “Brother?” Someone called out from the other side of the door.

“Yeah?” Sam yelled back, voice unfaltering.

“You okay, man? You’ve been in there for a while. We’re getting ready to head to the bar.” You could recognize the voice as Josh’s. You had been trying to stay as silent as possible, but Sam did not make it easy. He’d slipped his hand around to the front of you, fingers dancing over your already abused clit.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just don’t feel too good, don’t know what hit me.” He lied so effortlessly that even you could have believed him if not for him being inside of you.

“Oh, okay, man. You think you’re gonna join us? Should we wait up?” He questioned. A whimper fell from your lips as he had hit the perfect spot. His free hand clamped around your mouth.

“No, you guys can go. I’ll be done here soon, then I’ll probably go to the hotel and call it an early night.” You couldn’t understand how his voice was so steady. You chalked it up to him singing and talking while he jumped around on stage.

“Okay, text us if you change your mind and we’ll let you know where we are.” Josh yelled.

“Will do!” Sam answered. He waited a moment until he heard the bang of the main door shutting, then he removed his hand from your mouth.

“What the fuck was that, Sam?” You whispered, still scared Josh would overhear you.

“You certainly weren’t complaining.” He muttered, slamming his hips back into you. You let out a gasp. “Actually, I think you’re gonna cum.” He said, smugly. He was correct. Damn him for knowing your body too well. He swirled his fingers over your clit a few more times before you unravelled, slurring out profanities. “That’s it, baby.” Sam groaned, not far behind you. “Tell me you love me again.” He ordered once you can down from your high.

“I love you.” You said softly, no tone of arrogance or anything other than honesty. He took a sharp intake of breath and reached his own orgasm, moaning your name and pulling you back down on him as it happened. He rested in you for a moment, just basking in the closeness. Eventually, he withdrew and you turned to face him.

“I love you, too, baby.” He said, eyes drooping with exhaustion. You couldn’t help but smile at the confession. “I love you so much.” He sighed, pulling your chin up so he could lean down to kiss you. “We seem to have a thing for fucking in bathrooms, though.” He stated once you broke apart. You both laughed at the statement.

You finished your shower with him, both of you slipping out and wrapping yourselves in towels. You dried off and picked up your clothes, making a move to go back to the main room. He followed closely behind, not wanting you to leave his sight. When you dropped your towel, he gave your ass a smack. You jumped in surprise, letting out a giggle. He went over to his bag and grabbed a hoodie and sweatpants, tossing them in your direction. “Here, if you’d like to leave undetected.” He smiled. You nodded, slipping on the bottoms. You had to cuff the sweatpants quite a few times and tie the drawstrings, but you made it work. You threw his hoodie on, leaving the hood up.

You revelled in the confines of the sweater, breathing in the scent. It smelled just like him and it warmed your heart. “You look good in my clothes.” He said, pulling on another pair of his pants. That was one thing you had to laugh at, Sam packed a bag like a middle aged woman on vacation; two outfits for every occasion. He grabbed his wallet from a pile of his things and opened it, pulling out a hotel keycard. “I got two at check in, cause I always end up losing one.” He chuckled. “Guess it really came in handy, this time.” He handed it to you. “The room number’s written on it too.” You slipped it in your pocket.

“Guess so, baby.” You said, giving him a smile. He leaned down to place another kiss to your lips. You held him there for a moment, never wanting to lose the feeling. When you pulled away, you let your hand rest on his cheek. “I’m gonna head out, try and avoid everyone.” You informed him.

“Sure,” he said, pulling you into a hug. “I’ll be there soon. Be safe.”

“I will, Sammy.” You said, making your way to the door. “Oh, uh, can you bring my clothes back with you?” You asked, suddenly embarrassed at your earlier interaction. A blush rose to your cheeks. He laughed at you, nodding his head at your request.

“Of course.” He followed you as you left, leaning against the doorway as you walked out. He watched you make your way to the exit, smiling to himself.

“Hey, who’s that?” A voice sounded from beside him. Sam looked to see Danny standing, watching you walk away, too.

“Oh, uh, just some chick from the front row.” Sam brushed it off. “Asked security to pull her back here before she left.” He lied quickly, trying to cover his own ass.

“Ah, I see,” Danny said. “And you let her take your clothes home?”

“Yeah, just old shit anyway. Figured I’d never miss it.”

“Uh huh,” Danny paused, knowing that the clothes in question were some of his favourites. “And how do you think y/n would feel if she found out you were fucking groupies?” Sam nearly choked on his breath, whipping his head to look at Danny.

“What?” He asked, in disbelief.

“Come on, man. We all know. You think you guys are being sneaky, but we know you both way too well.” He chuckled. “Just wish you guys would have told me, you know?” He said before he walked off.

“Wait, Danny!” Sam called to him, but he wasn’t turning around.

“Also, you guys are obnoxiously loud.” He said before disappearing around the corner.

“Fuck,” Sam muttered to himself, turning on his heels and walking back into his room.

•

You pushed through the door of the hotel, taking in the sight of the front lobby. It was beautiful. You didn’t have too much experience with hotels, or travel. Your parents were quite poor growing up, and you never really broke the curse as you grew into adulthood. Hotels and anything of the sort, no matter if they were five star or not, were quite luxurious to you. The lady at the front desk gave you a warm smile as you passed by. You mumbled a hello, returning her gesture. You went directly to the elevator, pressing the button to go upstairs. The doors swung open, inviting you inside.

You looked at the paper holder containing the keycard, seeing the room number written messily on the outside of it. You clicked the floor number and waited. You laughed at the messy penmanship; Sam could be so forgetful by times. Luckily, this time around, it really worked in your favour. The ding of the elevator broke you from your thoughts. The doors parted and you stepped into the hallway. Your legs carried you down the hall, eyes scanning the bold black numbers labelling the rooms.

You landed in front of the room that matched the number on the card, swiping the key in front of the sensor. The electronic lock clicked open and you stepped inside. Upon first inspection, it was so blatantly clear that this was Sam’s room. His cologne was still present in the air from before he’d left for the venue, a towel was left on the bathroom floor, and a few different outfits were strewn on the bed. The blankets were messy and the pillows were all over the mattress. You smiled to yourself, dropping your bag by the T.V. stand and immediately crawling in the mess of pillows, pulling the blanket over you. The pillowcase smelled like Sam’s shampoo, inviting you in and lulling you to sleep. It had been far too long since you fell asleep surrounded by him.

Without even realizing it, you drifted off into a slumber more peaceful than any you’d had while he was away.

About thirty minutes later, Sam was unlocking the door himself and making his way inside. He dropped his own bag by the door, kicking off his shoes. When he looked to the bed, his heart melted at the sight of you. He walked over, carefully sitting on the bed beside you. He ran a hand through your still damp hair, gently brushing out any knots. As you began to stir, he leaned down and placed a kiss on your head. You let out a small groan, slowly coming back to life. You stretched out your legs, taking in a large breath as your eyes fluttered open. “Well, hello, sleepyhead.” Sam said softly, hand still tangled in your hair. “Have a good nap?” You couldn’t help but smile. It had felt like an eternity since you’d woken up next to him.

“Would’ve been better if you were here.” You whispered.

“Good thing I’m here now, then.” He said. He wasn’t sure if he should tell you about his interaction with Danny earlier, not wanting to disturb the peacefulness of the reunion. He knew he’d have to eventually, but right now just didn’t seem like the time for it. You opened your arms, reaching out for him to lay beside you. “Just a second.” He promised, standing up. He took off his shirt leaving himself just in his sweatpants. You watched him, silently admiring him as he moved. You made a move to take your pants off, wanting as much closeness with him as you could get. You tossed them onto the floor beside you, scooting over a bit to give him some more room to climb in.

He picked up the comforter, sliding in next to you and wasting no time pulling you to his chest. The warmth of his body immediately relaxed you. “I know I already said it, but I missed you, Sammy.” You mumbled, eyes closing once more.

“I missed you too, baby.” He said, his hand snaking under your far too large sweatshirt, caressing the skin on your hip. “I promise I’ll take you out on a date when we get home, I just want to be here with you tonight. I want you all to myself.” He admitted.

“Me too,” you agreed. You both sat in silence for a moment, not moving, just soaking up each others company. Eventually, he pulled you on top of him, settling you between his legs. Your head rested on his stomach, your arms brought to your chest, curling the blanket up to your chin. He played with the ends of your hair, letting the locks fall through his long fingers.

“Did you mean what you said, earlier?” He asked.

“Which part?” You asked for clarification.

“That you loved me.” His hands worked their way up to your scalp, gently massaging it. You let out a hum of pleasure at the feeling.

“Yeah, I did, Sammy.” You whispered, your own hand now moving to his stomach, tickling his skin with your fingertips. The muscles in his abdomen flexed at the contact, causing a small giggle to fall from you. “Of course I did.” You added. “I was scared that it was too soon, you looked almost… mad when I said it. But I meant it.” He laughed quietly at your words, finding it ridiculous that you thought he’d be mad at you.

“I wasn’t mad, y/n. Shocked, yeah, for sure. I wasn’t expecting you to say it.” He admitted. “But I’ve been waiting to hear you say that since the day I met you. If that was the only thing you said to me for the rest of my life, I’d be happy.” His hand that wasn’t knotted in your hair came down on top of yours, lacing your fingers together. “Why would you think I’d be mad at you?” He whispered now, gentle with his tone. You stayed silent for a moment, unsure of how to answer him.

“I don’t know… I guess I’m just so used to my past boyfriends being mad at me all of the time. I suppose it’s just in my nature to expect you to be mad, or assume I did something wrong.” You confessed. His heart leapt at the use of the word boyfriend. That had not been discussed yet, but he certainly didn’t mind the sound of it. On the other hand, he was curious. He’d never heard you talk much about your former partners.

“You can talk about it, if you want.” He didn’t want to pry, but he did want to know more. He gave you the option to tell him or not.

“I don’t know, Sammy.” You sighed. “Not much of a story, I guess. I’ve only had one other boyfriend. He was a dick. I dated him all through high school and moved in with him after graduation. He was mean and I didn’t know that it wasn’t how I should be treated. I didn’t know anything else.” A frown encased his lips. “He never let me go out, or have any friends. He wanted me to do anything he wanted whenever he wanted it. He always wanted to fight with me and according to him, I could never do anything right. That’s how I met Danny, actually.”

“What do you mean?” Sam never actually got close enough with you to know much about you in the beginning. He knew you were beautiful, funny and kind. He knew you adored Danny, but not why. He knew enough to fall for you, but he really wanted to know you, now. He wanted the little things constantly stored in the back of his head so he could use them as needed. He wanted to know what made you, you.

“After a particularly bad fight, I went to a bar to get some cheap liquor.” You laughed at the memory. “I’m not sure why, but it seemed right at the time. I barely drank back then. But Danny showed up, he was just finishing up with you guys at the studio. He sat beside me and bought some god-awful looking beer.” You shuddered at the thought. No matter how hard Danny tried to convince you it was good, you couldn’t stand the taste of it. “He introduced himself and noticed I’d been crying. He talked to me all night, wanting to know everything about me. It was the first time I’d ever felt…” you pondered for the right word. “Seen.” You finished. “He was the only person in my life by that point, who’d ever cared enough about me to want to know everything. And he barely knew me.” You had to laugh.

Sam felt a rush of jealousy flood through him, but he pushed it aside. “He offered me a place to stay because my boyfriend at the time told me to get out, and that he never wanted to see me again. You know why?” You asked.

“Hmm?” Sam mumbled, still listening intently.

“A male coworker sent me a friend request on Facebook.” You whispered. “It was bound to happen eventually, and I had an apartment lined up just in case. Things had been really bad for a while. But he just kicked me out, he didn’t want to hear anything I had to say. Just opened the door for me like I’d meant nothing to him for six years.”

“That’s terrible, y/n.” Sam consoled you, pulling you closer to him as he spoke. ‘I’d never do that to you.’ He thought to himself.

“Yeah, but I never would’ve ended up here if it didn’t happen.” You reminded him. “But Danny came with me as backup to get my shit from his house. He helped me move into the apartment I live in now. We got wine drunk together and the rest was history. He didn’t care that I was broken. He didn’t care that I had no idea how to make friends, because I was never allowed to have them. Just wanted to be with me.” You shrugged. Sam tried his best to just hear your words rather than think about how Danny felt about you, but he was struggling. “You know, I prayed for months that something would happen, anything to make life better. And he showed up that night. Just waltzed in and changed everything in an instant.”

“You love him, don’t you?” Sam couldn’t help it. The jealousy was surging through him. He wanted to listen to you talk, but his heart was breaking at the words you were saying. You lifted your head to look at him, noticing the expression of worry.

“Yeah, of course I do, Sam.” You were honest. “But it’s never been like that for me.” His body relaxed slightly. “Danny was always meant to be my best friend. He’s been the person I looked for my whole life. Someone to do stupid shit with, to make memories, to be my kids godparent, I love him more than anything, but I’m not in love with him, Sammy.”

“I’m sorry, I know that. I just… yeah.” He muttered. “I just get nervous, I guess. I know how he feels about you. I know how much he cares for you, and you for him. It’s hard to think that he could steal you away at any given moment.” He laughed quietly, more to himself. “You know, it would’ve made so much more sense if you ended up with him. He deserves you way more than I do.” He said, guilt seeping through his pores.

“It was never a matter of ‘deserving’ anything. If I wanted to be with Danny, I would be. I’m in love with you, and I always knew it would end up like this. The minute I met you… it was like all of the bullshit from the past didn’t matter. The pain from the last relationship didn’t hurt, because it brought me to you. It made it all make sense, you know?” You sighed, fingers still dancing with his. “I know we treated each other like shit for a long time, but I always knew. From the minute I saw you, I wanted to love you, to be in love with you. I wanted this, exactly what we’re doing right now.” His heart drummed against his ribs, threatening to break them. He couldn’t believe how much you affected him.

“Me too, baby.” He sighed. “All I want to do is love you; I’m sorry that I was an asshole for so long.” You sat up, moving around to sit on him. You straddled his waist, pulling his face in your hands and running your thumb over his cheek.

“We’re here now, aren’t we? Isn’t that what matters?” He smiled at your words, putting his hands on your hips.

“I guess so.” He agreed, catching your lips in a kiss. “I’m so lucky to be able to love you.” He breathed as you parted ways. “I want to know you. I want to know everything about you; I want to make sure that you know how you deserve to be loved. I hope I can do it properly.”

The sentiment of his words hung over the room like a cloud of serenity. You two enjoyed the alone time, rolling around in the bed, sharing kisses and laughs. You played music softly in the background, singing along to songs that had no meaning to you until that night. The evening dwindled by too quickly for either of your liking, slipping into the late hours of the night and eventually to the earliest ones of the morning. You wanted to live in that moment forever, where nothing was wrong and it was just the two of you making up for lost time. Sam made it so easy to fall for him, with his sweet words, loving touches and fantastic sex. He treated you better than you ever could have imagined a partner doing. The months of romance felt like an eternity; you felt like you’d known him like this your whole life.

Eventually, exhaustion enveloped the two of you and the music that was once fuelling your energy turned into lullabies. Sam was on his side, facing you with his arm draped over your bare torso. Somewhere in the events of the night, you both had ended up naked, but not resulting in a sexual motive. The intimacy of being completely exposed with no intent of sex was beautiful. It was just the two of you seeing each other completely, loving each other fully. Your eyes were drooping, barely being able to hold them open. His were similar, but he was forcing himself to stay awake so he didn’t miss a second of admiring you. His eyes on you, holding so much emotion behind them, felt like pure bliss. Being appreciated by Sam was the greatest feeling you’d ever experienced.

“I love you, princess.” He whispered, voice laced with sleep. “So much.”

“I love you, Sammy.” You said, the words coming straight from your heart. You were sure that you both had said it a million times that night alone, but the novelty of the phrase was too exiting to stop. Finally, the proclamation of emotion you’d both been feeling for so long was in the air, accepted and desired.

“I’m gonna take you to breakfast in the morning, before you have to go. Just me and you.” He promised. You smiled at his words but your chest ached at the realization you’d have to leave him again the next day. Although the time between now and seeing him next was much shorter than the one previous, you didn’t want to be away from him at all.

“I’d like that.”

“Me, too.” You laughed at him, barely awake and still trying to hold a conversation. You had both closed your eyes, finally giving your bodies a chance to rest, just minutes away from sleep. He pulled you closer to him, your head quickly finding its way to the crook of his neck. You drifted to sleep to the scent of him, finally feeling at home.

•

A violent knock on the door shook you both from your slumber. Neither of you had moved from the position you’d fallen asleep in. You both ignored the first knock, figuring it was one of the boys coming back drunk and wanting to chat. “Go back to sleep, baby.” Sam mumbled, clearly not caring about who was looking for him. You tried to do as he said, but another burst of loud knocking pried your eyes back open.

“Sam, open the fucking door!” You were upright now, immediately recognizing Danny’s voice. Sam groaned, reaching out for his phone.

“It’s 4 in the morning, man, go to bed! We can talk tomorrow!” He shot back.

“I know she’s in there, Sam. I just want to talk to her.” Danny pleaded. You could tell he was plastered. You could hear it in his voice. Your heart was racing, panic encased on your features. Sam gave a look to you as if to say it was okay. He rolled out of bed, pulling on a pair of pants as you searched wildly for clothes for yourself. You threw on the clothes Sam had given you earlier, crawling back in the bed and hoping that Sam could convince Danny to go back to his room. Sam wanted that, too, hoping you would just talk to him in the morning, when you were both sober and in the right state of mind.

Sam shuffled to the door. You heard him open it a crack before speaking again. “Just go to bed, Danny. You’re hammered.” Sam sighed, trying to reason with him.

“You’ve both been avoiding me for months and lying to my face the whole time. I’m done. I’m sick of waiting for you to decide to tell me the truth.” Danny snapped. Your stomach twisted in a knot, palms breaking out into a sweat. He knew. He’s known all along.

“Hey, stop, man. It’s okay. We can talk in the morning.” Sam muttered, obviously still half asleep. You didn’t understand how he was so calm about the whole thing. Sam made a move to try and shut the door, but Danny pushed it open again, not done with the conversation.

“Just let me talk to her, please.” Danny said again. “I know she’s in there. I saw her car outside.” Danny was pushing back on the door as Sam tried to hold it closed. “You can’t keep my best friend from me.” Something in Sam snapped at his territorial marking, not liking it in the slightest.

“Okay, fine, in the morning!” Sam was losing his patience. “I’m not letting you talk to her while you’re drunk and pissed off.” Sam was being overly protective, not willing to budge from him stance.

“I’m not going to fucking hurt her, asshole.” Danny argued. “She’s my best friend, Sam. I have to talk to her.” With a final push, Danny got the door open and stepped in the room. Sam sighed, stepping down and out of his way. Danny walked in, his eyes immediately landing on you. He stared for a moment, watching you sitting in Sam’s bed, wearing his clothes, looking scared. He felt a wave of hurt enveloping him. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again, unsure of what to say. He’d gotten his answer already. He already knew what he would find, but he was hoping he was wrong.

“Danny,” you started, but he’d already turned to walk back out. Your heart shattered, but you pushed it to the side. You were not the one that should be upset in the situation. You jumped out of the bed, following after him. Just as he was rounding the corner into the hallway, Sam grabbed your wrist to stop you from following. “Let go, Sam.” You warned.

“Y/n, just wait until the morning. We’ve waited this long, we can wait one more day.” He begged.

“That’s the problem! We never should have waited this long to begin with!” You cried, still trying to shake yourself from his grip. “We lied to him. I hurt him. I’m still hurting him!”

“This isn’t a good idea, you’re both upset-“

“We’re going to be upset either way! I need to make it right with him before it’s too late. He’s my whole world, Sam.” You pleaded with him. Sam’s eyes darkened at your statement, once again feeling that pain he’d felt walking into Danny’s apartment the year before.

“What about me, y/n? Am I not part of that world, too?” He said, hurt dripping off of his words.

“What? Of course you are Sam, what do you mean?” You scoffed.

“I mean exactly what I said. This is just like it was in the beginning. No matter how many times we fuck, or how many times you say you love me, he’ll always come first, right?” You opened your mouth to retaliate, but found no words coming out. “That’s what I thought.” Sam rolled his eyes. “You wanna go talk to him? Fine by me.” He dropped your wrist. “It doesn’t matter what I think, anyway.”

“You’re jealous now, of all of the times you could’ve been jealous? We did something to hurt him and you’re pissed off because I want to make it right?”

“No, I’m pissed off because it seems like I was right the whole time. You may not have been fucking him, y/n, but he will always be the most important person to you. He says jump and you’ll do it, no matter how high. No matter who’s begging you not to.”

“Sam you’re being ridiculous.” You scowled, feeling the months of hatred and vicious words coming back.

“It’s four in the morning, y/n. He shows up drunk and wakes us up, barges in here and doesn’t even say a word to you, and you’re chasing after him. Im asking you to stay. I am begging you to at least wait until the morning, when he’s not drunk and you’re in your right mind, but you refuse to see that maybe that’s the most logical thing because like I said a million times before, he comes first, before anyone else. It. Will. Always. Be. Him.” He annunciated his words so harshly that it caused your blood to boil.

You couldn’t believe that after everything you’d told Sam, every memory and sweet word over the last few months, everything that you’d professed to him that night alone, he could throw this out the window so easily. Tears welled in your eyes, begging to be shed. You loved Sam, but he always seemed to be the one to know exactly how to break your heart. You thought that he’d changed, that him being an asshole was just one big misunderstanding, but maybe you were wrong. Maybe Sam would never change, no matter how much you hoped he would. “I’m not fighting with you over this, Sam. Not again.” You said, completely defeated. “I could go into the next room and spit on him, even kick him in the face and you’d still try and argue that I’m in love with him. You didn’t believe me when I told you the million other times, and you never will. I’m done fighting.” Your voice broke.

“If you leave,” he paused, eyes angry but you could tell it was covering sadness. “If you run out there after him, I’m done, y/n. I can’t always feel like I’m in second place.”

“That’s your problem, Sam. You’re trying to beat him in a race, but you guys aren’t even competing in the same one.” You took a step towards the hallway. “Oh, and if you’re genuinely giving me an ultimatum, whatever this is, ends here. Because if you make me choose, I will never forgive you.” You said, back turned to him now. You couldn’t see it, but a tear fell down his cheek, too. He didn’t answer, just watched you teeter between the hallway and his hotel room, hoping you’d turn back towards him.

“You say that because you know you’d choose him.”

“If you make me stay, we’re done.” You whispered.

“I guess we’re in stalemate, then.” He replied. You closed your eyes, praying he’d say something else, that he would change his mind. Instead, you were met with silence. You looked back at him over your shoulder, wanting to see him one last time before you made up your mind. The sadness in his features implored you to stay, to hold him and tell him you only ever wanted to love him, but the anger towards him that was brewing in your chest was overwhelming. “Please, y/n, come back to bed with me.” He tried one last time. You checked to make sure you’d slipped your phone and your car keys in your pocket when you got up, relieved when you found that you did.

“I love you, Sammy.” You whispered. His eyes glistened with hope, thinking that maybe you were going to stay. As soon as he’d let himself feel it, it was quickly shattered. You had stepped into the hallway and slammed his door shut, not even waiting for him to say it back. He stood, staring at the doorway where you’d been standing just seconds before, not knowing where to go from there.

.

Don’t worry!! It doesn’t end here, there will be a part three! 🫶🏻

[ballonleamusings]

Episode 6 Thoughts:

. James and Helen always have me in tears. Everything in this episode was brilliantly acted. Honestly, I've been so distracted by Tristan's problems this season that I didn't anticipate James' breakdown. I don't know if this was the writer's intention or whether it's because of who my favourites are lol. Either way, James' storyline gave some much needed closure to the psychological impact that the war has had on him. I don't know how long Brucellosis lasts, but I hope he doesn't have any more bouts. I have a feeling this won't be the last repercussion of James' trauma.

. Helen was a trooper in this episode: Caring for James, making sure Jimmy was being looked after, and being there for Audrey and Mrs Pumphrey. Her partnership with James evolves each series, and this experience brought them closer.

. Audrey held everyone together as always and I love how she has a solution for everything. She knew that sending Tristan to help Siegfried would force them to talk properly, and she was proven right.

. I like the dynamic that Mrs Pumphrey has with everyone at Skeldale house. It was fitting how she recognised James' symptoms, having cared for her late husband when he was ill. On a side note, it's cute how well Tricki settles in with the other pups.

. Siegfried walking dirt into the house, then proceeding to stand over the baby triggered me.

. The Farnon brothers were so funny in this episode. I enjoyed their escapade, as well as their moments of tenderness. The two of them definitely needed time alone together to bond after being apart for so long. They can't stand each other but also can't live without each other.

. I was hoping we would learn more about Tristan's war stories in this series. We still don't know exactly what he experienced in Egypt, good or bad. I thought Tristan had been acting strange since his return so I assumed he was hiding something (or maybe it's just me...) One thing he did reveal in this episode was that he got "lucky." Maybe he just feels out of place compared to Siegfried, who had a very traumatic war. At the same time, Tristan has lied and masked his feelings in the past. Therefore, it wouldn't be out of character if he hasn't been completely open with people. I think this could either be elaborated on in the future or left open to interpretation.

. I don't know if Siegfried and Mrs Grantly will become an item at this stage. If they do, I think it will be a temporary thing like Audrey and Gerald. Because of the fact that Mrs Grantly didn't appear in the finale, it doesn't seem like the writers are setting up anything substantial.

. I expected to see a bit more of Mr Alderson and Jenny in season 5. Fingers crossed they'll get more screen time in the Christmas special. I want to know whether Jenny decides to leave home or not, and how Mr Alderson would manage without her.

This technically isn't the series finale because of the CS, but it's still the end of a chapter. Carmody has left for London, James has opened up to Helen, Audrey is playing her part in the war effort, and the Farnon brother's dynamic keeps developing.

I've really loved this series- the biggest treat seeing the whole cast back together. There has been some discourse about the execution of this season, and everyone is entitled to their opinion. Series 5 has left more questions than answers regarding the characters, but I think this is likely a set up for the CS and series 6.

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 13

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 4.5k

A/N: Long time coming! I've been so busy getting ready for uni, I recently transferred colleges so my life is a MESS rn. I hope you guys like this one, new chapter hopefully next week. Enjoy my lovies

You were going to be an aunt. That was very true, very insane, but very true. Your best friend, sister in law (to be), and childhood bully had a tiny little thing in her belly. A little friend in there, Tía Andrea.

You weren't having kids for a long time, you think, so this little blessing was going to be spoiled to a T.

 Juan, you named the baby, if he was a boy, Julia, if she was a girl. An affinity for J names you've noticed, god help you.

After sulking at the thought of Javier dropping you the second he sees Lorraine, you do see your brother and congratulate him. You cry, because he's going to be a dad, you want to tell him to be the dad you two never got to have, but that was far too heavy for a guy like Frankie. You leave him be, because you were quite the cry baby and that he hated about you.  

You groan in your bed, it had been 2 whole nights since Javi left you without a word. His face so full of nothing when he looked back at you for a chin raising nod as a goodbye.

You had the privilege of working at the summer school program from 9-2, the rest of your nights were alone. Spreading jam on toast, sitting criss-crossed dipping your finger in the purple goop and finger feeding your teething sister, who almost always gripped your finger and gnaw. It sort of hurt but tickled, the feeling of no teeth, hungry teething angry baby. Those were your moments of laughter. 

You ranted to poor Marisol often, “Do you think Lorraine and Javi will just rekindle that flame? I'm so stressed Sol,” she had a permanent grin on her face so you felt like she never took your problems seriously. She was 11 months old, still you felt judged. 

“I didn't want it to end”

Pause, a fucking pause. 

“I didn't want it to end that way either. “

Your chest expanded and tightened at the thought. And you did what you have always done best.

Overthink it.

What if it was Houston that tore them, too grown too soon. What if them both standing in a wedding in their hometown, a town where they fell in love in, what if that becomes just too much for them and they realize that they can try the damn thing again. You narrow your eyes at your sister as she slobbers on her fist. Lorraine has always been prettier than you. You couldn't see why Javi wouldn't just crumble at her feet when she comes home.

And she's a Christian, like a good one.

You recall in your sophomore year being teased by a junior named Terrance. He had heard about the rumor (the half true rumor), that Javier hooked up with his best friends sister atop a car. Close, you thought.

Hook up though? Depended on your definition, and it was against the car, not on top. Anyway, he crowded you at your lunch table while your friends stood to get their meals. He claimed you made it up for attention, why would anyone cheat on Lorraine with you? You held it together, brows pulling tight and leaving without a word. Finding the bathroom and breaking down, an experience unique to teenage girls. 

Biting back sobs in a bathroom stall. 

You stare at your baby sister longer, “Don't ever let a boy talk you down, okay mama?” She babbles and you take an aggressive bite of your toast. Face screwing up realizing you never really liked this snack. And don't let a boy shut you out after he's been intimate with you. You shake your head no, I’ll tell you that one when you're older. 

Like a light bulb hovering over your head, you grab your sister and walk out your room. Storming into the living room where your mother and her husband cuddled while watching some movie. The baby babbled at the sight of her daddy, “Going to bed.” You lie and plop your sister in their laps and hurry up the stairs before your mother could question you. 

You lock your bedroom door and shed your clothes with thoughts of Javier and his stupid sexy mustache and smile. How pleased he seemed to be getting you off, bastard. You stare at the mirror while you're bare, the hickeys on your soft skin mellowing in the slightest. And despite wanting to go over to Javier's just to talk, you slip on pretty panties. Just in case. 

You dig for something less appealing to stick on your body. If you don't tempt he wont have to see what's waiting for him under it all.

Jackpot.

Frankies track pants from high school, Laredo’s awful navy and black colors. Haven't they heard, navy and black is fashion suicide. You slip the loud material on, and then a gray tank top. You don't even bother with sneakers, slippers will do. 

You don't even call, you exit through your window and hop off the small shed Mr. Warden recently built for his storage. Passing your own car and walking to Javier's house at 11 pm. 

You're huffing 2 minutes in, despite Texas being famously flat, you still had the beastly hill to get to the two paths that led to Javier's home. The short cut that involved walking 3 minutes in the woods and ending at his house in less than ten, or the main road with long haul truckers and an additional 15 minutes to the walk. 

“God, please don't let me get mauled by a wolf.” You mutter to yourself before making a left into the barely lit trail, one warm light at the beginning and one off in the distance at the end. 

Well you don't die. You do get bit by some sort of bug on your elbow and startled by a squirrel. You just repeat to yourself that this is a good idea, the two of you need to communicate.

You end up at the Peña ranch, completely dark. You start to realize how silly it was for you to show up unannounced in the dead of night but the light from Javier's room has your stomach doing a strange flip. His window closed but the view of him sat at his desk was clear. 

Javier heard your call and didn't even startle. He was confused for a moment, looking at his door to his room but ultimately he threw that idea away, you strolling in his house near midnight, no way.

Hearing a crunching of leaves and a shriek, Javier is at his feet and opening his window, his eyes meeting your flushed cheeks and a leaf in your hair. 

Javier desperately tries to bite back a laugh at the sight, shirt strap off your shoulders, in track pants and slippers. Eyes wide in embarrassment, he’s just glad you aren’t hurt from whatever caused a piece of greenery to be stuck in your hair, a hand swiping to whack the thing away. Your hair disheveled from the midnight breeze, you were so damn beautiful. Always. 

“Will you stop staring and let me in before your dad comes out here with a shotgun?” 

Javier blinks, realizing he had just been ogling you for a bit too long, “Right, sorry.” 

He grips your hands and lifts you in. You huff with the sketchy landing, effectively kicking your slippers off and dusting off those loud pants, your cheeks are still red, maybe it’s from the fall or the weather or something else. You sit on his bed, wiping your brow free of sweat. “This thing makes me sound like a fucking wind tunnel.” You tug at the oversized pants. 

A strange primal heat spread across Javier’s chest seeing you wear pants that obviously weren’t yours but instead some boys.

The heat died when he realized they’re just your brothers. He remembers Frankie wearing them back in high school. 

“Wait-how did you get here?” A worry flashing him, you bring your knees to your chest on his bed. He stood against his desk, his arms crossed, leaned forward a bit to be face level with your own. He was just a huge broad man, you had to pounce on him.

About that, you think. 

“Walked, what were you reading?” You deflect, Javier shakes his head knowing what you're trying to do, he’s known you for a decade. He knows your often poor decision making skills and inability to lie, so he presses again, ignoring your question.

“I would have picked you up if you called.”

He would have, in a heartbeat. He’d drop anything and you knew that. Through all your insecurity and self depreciation you always understood that. That pissed you off, no wonder you had fallen so hard. He was always there, fixing up whatever mess you made.

He never did really mind, but you going M.I.A on him and then putting yourself in harm's way just to see him. That pissed him off pretty bad. Then again he could also never really be angry with you, not when you're finally here with him after so many years of no contact wondering if you were okay, happy, fed, healthy or whatever he killed himself over worrying about you. 

You, and your fucking tiny tank top and big eyes like you've never done wrong in your life. To him you hadn't and if you did, those eyes tell him otherwise. You just shrug with a pretty pout and a pulled brow. That stupid thought of pressing his thumbs to your forehead smoothing out any worry you’ve ever had. “I wanted to go on a walk and ended up here.” Lie.

“It just isn’t safe.” Javi’s crossed arms flex when you narrow your eyes in annoyance.

“Believe it or not Agente, I used to take walks by myself back when you lived with Lorraine 5 months ago.” You bite and ah, thats why you’re here.

He saw the look on your face change when he spewed that awkward phrasing to Genie’s news.

Truthfully Javier didn’t mean for it to come out like that. He gripped the wheel to his truck when he dropped Genie off at her house. His pounding head leaning against the wheel, feeling so dumb. Ashamed. 

He didn’t call you because he didn’t know how.  Didn’t know if your mom would pick up or if you were actually upset with him. Maybe you felt different after he ate you out, after he bent you over and came on your back. Maybe he was a fucking idiot and moving too fast. 

But the name drop gave him confirmation. Javier dropped his eyes to the floor and let out a sigh. “Yeah, about Monday…” His eyes stay trained to the ground, bracing himself for your attitude that he strangely adored. For you to rip him a new one for making you feel bad, for making you feel unsure in whatever this was. Waiting for a justified fuck off, or a firm talk like you gave him when he saw you again for the first time last week. 

But instead he hears you sniffle. 

Well fuck, you were crying and Javier looked like you had just stabbed him. Striding to you to get on his knees and hold your knees as you sat perched up on his bed crying over something so stupid. But the whole situation gave you deja vu.

A flash of trying to look pretty for him after the two of you kissed and fading at the hollow pit in your belly when you saw him arm in arm with Lorraine just two days after. 

Communicate, it’s what you told yourself to do on your way to his house. You lost too many years by being too damn shy to tell him how you felt. 

But now that the moment was here you couldn’t help but sob. But to feel like the insecure girl trying to compete with someone in a different ball park. But this time around Javi is repeating your name and attempting to soothe you, his hands moving from your knees to your wrists. Andrea, he presses so tenderly and so concerned. 

Andrea, querida, what’s wrong, hey. 

And all other soft calls to you. “I-I’m sorry- I don’t know why i’m crying, sometimes when I’m around you—i still feel like i’m sixteen and—" He drops his head, his hands loosening at the thought of all the mistakes he made with you. Your own hands flex and move from the hold completely as he’s at your mercy, head bowed. “I understand if Lorraine coming home changes things—you two were together for a long time and I know she’s probably less complicated or-or emotional—and not someone you need to hide— I know she’s easier to have and keep. I won’t be upset, I know in comparison i’m i don’t know, homely? And never really made for a good-“

“Andrea.” His voice strained but demanding you to stop your tearful rambling. It wasn’t like you to act that way, not anymore. You’ve grown too much to let all your insecurities wash you out, but it seems that maybe you never got over 1980, maybe you couldn’t just have casual sex with Javier Peña. 

“What?” Your voice breaks, god. And there’s Javier with that same look of disappointment, in you, in himself or in your doomed situation, you weren’t sure but he looks absolutely torn in half. 

His wet lips part like he was prepared to say something but they shut as his eyes search yours.

There’s silence again and his eyes drop and you begin to fear that maybe he agreed with all that you said. Maybe he knew that when his ex came home he’d be ready to fix that, maybe he knew Lorraine was a simpler, prettier girl. So your heart breaks further every second that passes. Every second he doesn’t look at you. 

 “Be with me.” 

Your mouth parts at the softness in his voice, and what was left of your heart swelling in your chest. Tears fell harder in confusion and praying this wasn’t just another spec of false hope, hoping it wasn’t another kiss by his car or another if you tell me to stay. 

You whisper, “What?”

His own eyes, glossy. “I don’t want anyone else, I don’t want you with anyone else. Nothing will change that. I don’t care if this is difficult, I don’t care if you think you’re hard to be with. I’m just asking you to be with me Andrea.”

You frown and shut your eyes tightly. You want him to repeat it again, over and over until you two wither away together.

Maybe he also knew that you two could never just be casual. 

Javier and Andrea casually hooking up, who were you kidding?

“Okay-"

He doesn’t let you finish whatever came next, you don’t even know what else you were going to say because his lips were crushing your own. His hand holding the back of your head as he presses you close. Tying your souls in his own way, kissing and holding you. 

Finally. Oh my god…

You arch your back into him, he groans against you when he realizes his uncomfortable position. His body hunched over in order to make out with you while you sat on the edge of his bed. 

“Fuck it.” He mumbles before grabbing your ass and lifting you up. Your legs wrap against him, holding to him like a koala. His hands generously squeezing at your behind in the track pants. Your nails raking in his pretty brown hair, his mustache scraping your lips raw and you love it. 

Laying you on his bed and kissing you there would be easy, but Javier obviously could care less about easy, I mean he just asked his best friends sister to be his for good. So he held you up, licking into your mouth with your legs wrapped around his stomach. Moaning when your core rubbed against his stomach. 

“Am I too heavy?”

Javi scoffed against your lips, “shut the fuck up.”

He takes a few steps back and bumps into his desk. The image of you bent over it, taking him makes his pants tighten. He turns to sit you on it, shoving the mail from work on the floor, the thing you had been so interested in just 10 minutes ago. 

He steps back slightly, your hands still attached to him with your swollen lips and desperation for more. You looking so pretty perched up on his desk. He had to have you every day, what was he going to do when he leaves, what was he going to do?

No time for that, he grabs your face again and continues kissing you, making up for all those years you spent wanting him. All the years he spent hiding how bad he wanted you. 

Without warning Javier hooks his left hand in the front of your thin top and pulls it down. Your breasts spilling out, and he looks like he’s ready to devour you. His mouth immediately attaching to your left breast eliciting a high pitched moan from you. His wet lips suctioning on such a sensitive and untouched part of your body. His right hand moving to your unattended one. Kneading and gripping while his tongue flicked and swirled. 

Your hair falls in your face as your heavy head falls at the pleasure. Still so wet, you move your hips to hopefully get some release, “Javi, please-“

His lips part from your breast, his mouth wet and open as he looks up to you, waiting for your request. But you’re so turned on by the circumstance, by him asking you to be his, by the way his hair is falling above his brow and by your breasts spilling out of your tank top “What do you need baby?”

“I want to come.” 

His lips quirk at your bluntness. He wastes no time and begins pulling off your pants—or your brother pants. Your chest heaves when he stands straight to remove you from the desk and you get a glimpse of his hardness. Heavy in the oh so causal sleep pants that made your head spin

“I want you to come.” You add, he pauses his brows raising a bit. “We don’t have to take off our clothes, i’m not ready yet but we can-“ You cut yourself off feeling awfully shy and juvenile for the suggestion but his eyes darken at your bashfulness. You were ready to fuck him on Monday when you were clouded by horniness and the uncertainty of if it was your last time but now he wants to you to be his. You never need to rush. 

He tilts his head slightly and grabs the bottom of your tank, freeing you from it. Leaving you bare breast and in your small little underwear, placed on his desk. His pretty girl, his, finally his. 

“What baby? You wanna dry hump me? Like a couple of fucking teenagers?”

Your cheeks heat quickly, embarrassed about your stupid horny ask, feeling frozen in shame until Javi smiles again. Picking you up for what feels like a millionth time and sitting you in his lap at his desk chair. Straddling him, you feel the weight of him, so close to him.

You love kissing him, you never want to stop and you don’t, your lips working on his. Dragging to his cheek leaving wet kisses from jaw to neck. The perfect position to hear his own pretty breaths. 

In between pants he gets a hold on your waist lifting you slightly. He gives himself space to move his erection, move it to help you feel him better. Lowering you, your lips suck and nip at his neck leaving a careless mark. A whine leaves your parted lips at the contact and his lips quirk in a sweet smile. 

But the smile fades into an eyebrow screwing groan when you move on him. He repeats your name in worship. His forehead dropping to your shoulder while you use his body. So little clothing for you and so much for him. Yet he’s mumbling in your ear like he’s already on the verge of finishing.

Feeling the underside of him rub against the thin cotton throws you for a loop and you can’t seem to care how feral you have to look getting yourself off on Javi like this. His head turns to place his lips on the space below your ear.

“Don’t leave, let me keep you here forever.” He urges and your core is pulsing just from his words. “When you let me fuck you��fuck—i’ll make sure you’ll never need anyone else querida.” 

“Oh god-“ You moan, your head dropping feeling closer, his own hips bucking up to meet you. The spaced out thrusts causing you to release a high pitched squeak. 

Javier’s hand moving to the back of your head, forcing it to his neck to keep you muffled. 

“Hijo?”

Your eyes widen and you squeeze Javi tighter. You stay frozen at the sound of Don Chucho calling outside of Javier’s room. 

Javi doesn't let up, you hold a muffled whine in his neck as he continues to buck his hips into you. “Si papi-uh dad yeah?”

“Todo bien?”

Javier, still moving below you, slips his hand between you, his fingers dragging along your clothed cunt, helping speed up your process. You're so close but if you come now, there's no doubt his father will hear. 

“I’m good, uh-working on some DEA stuff.” 

You would laugh if the pad of his thumb wasn't circling your most sensitive part of your body. 

“Alright hijo, try to sleep we have to be at Mrs. Glorias home tomorrow at 12. You're coming right?”

“Uh-yeah-I’m coming” His eyes grow large and he finally stills from under you, “I mean–yes I am coming…tomorrow.”

You stifle a laugh in his shoulder and he pinches your ass.

“Um, alright, goodnight.” His dad calls, the sound of footsteps and a door slamming ends that.

And you laugh into him forreal, but his fingers returning to your panties shut you up. “You're coming Javi?” you tease.

“Shut up-” He bucks harder and you’re close, your eyes going blank. 

You move your lips to his neck again, “Papi huh?”

And then he breaks, “Fuck-Andrea”. Coming in his pants in deep grunts and grips at your ass. Coming down from his own high he gets frustrated, his fingers dipping into your panties without warning. His deft fingers collect all the moisture he created and drag to your clit.

You come in a white flash, falling off the edge. You repeat his name in whiny cries. His hands hurrying to hold you up against his while you collapse into him. Heart racing, the orgasm comes in rippling. Javier holds you, sweat and all. Kissing the top of your head, whispering sweet words of You’re so good, feel so good baby. He keeps you like this for what feels like an eternity, feeling boneless and light when he stands.

He lays you on his bed like a doll. You lay still coming down, chest rising and falling. Still pulsing at the thought of how dirty and depraved the whole thing was. So wrapped in the high and replaying all the shit you’ve always wanted to hear, you flinch when he climbs in bed with a new pair of pants. 

“You’re bad.” He groans when he settles into the bed with a creak. 

You screw your brows together and turn to him, “Yea says the guy still trying to jump my bones while his dad was outside the room you psycho!” You whisper yell and he laughs that same deep sweet laugh you love. 

Javi brings you in closer to him, kissing you a quick chaste one. Blushing at the simpleness of it all. Cuddling in bed with Javier Peña and kissing him for fun, what is my life? “Mmm, take off your panties.”

You scoff.

“Not like that–I’m tapped out, unless you want to.”

“As much as I would love to have you between my legs, I am also tired.” You reach down and slip the soaked thing off, leaning over placing them on his nightstand. He pulls up the comforter over you. 

Javier slips his arm over your stomach, thumbing your hip in light circles. “You can put them in my drawer, they're mine now.” 

“You're a pervert.” You laugh, pinching his wrist.

“Mmm, when it comes to you? Yeah a bit.”

Red as a cherry you bury your face in his chest, hiding yourself. 

Silence passes for a few minutes, just the two of you together. The reality sets in, the hiding begins. But so does being with him, so does working this out so does communicating. “I should probably leave, don't want your dad to catch me.” You whisper and he grumbles an annoyed sound from his chest.

“Dont care, stay here. I’ll sneak you out early in the morning.” He grips you tighter and you smile feeling satisfied. “Tell me about Miami.”

You frown, “What do you want to know?”

“Anything. Tell me about your roommates, classes. I never got to go to college, tell me.”

Kissing his chest again, “You say it like you’re some dropout, you’re like a secret fucking agent.” He groans again, hatong when you talk him up, he gets shy like you. You spare him. “My roommate is cool, party girl. Her name is Delilah, from Arkansas. She was like a real southern-belle, big curly hair and blue eyes. She’s been begging for me to visit since I graduated early. We got along really well but she was annoyed with me often. I never partied.”

Javier’s chest rises, “Why? You used to party a lot in high school, remember when I had to get you from Juniors house at like 2-”

“Oh god don’t remind me I was a mess, case and point. Didn’t have a hot strong brother's best friend to pick up said pieces.”

“Oh shut the fuck up.”

The two of you laugh into each other, it's simple and perfect. 

“Besides that, it was an unfulfilling experience but I teach in the fall so it worked out I guess.”

“Ms. Diaz, sexiest teacher to ever step foot in Laredo for sure. If you were my teacher, whew.”

“You need to relax.” You mumble, feeling sleepier in his arms. “What were you reading by the way?”

Javier stirs and lets out another annoyed groan, gripping you tighter. “Some stupid fucking retreat for my office. In New Orleans in June, it's for all the people who are going to Columbia in fall. Stupid shit but its all expenses paid at the Roosevelt.”

Your brows raise, “Fancy, you gonna be flirting up the staff. Chest hair out with Getting your game back on before Columbia.” He scoffs and brings his hand down hard on your behind, eliciting a screech from you. “You’re gonna leave a mark pendejo.”

“Well you have a smart mouth, would rather see you half naked by the pool. I’ll sock anyone who looks at you though,” You shove him, the out of reach thought, fantasy, of maybe going away with him flashes in your eyes. Before you could dwell, he reached down to kiss you again. He mumbles against your lips. “You gave me a hickey so we’re even.”

Your eyes flutter shut, dosing off in the warmth of Javi. In the warmth of someone who’s yours. 

Half asleep you mumble, “Why’d you come the second I said the word papi?”

He scoffs tiredly and kisses your head again.

 “Shut up.”

[chucksfavouriteprophet]

End of the Line

Dean Winchester x (gn) Reader

Request/Summary: Hi! Could I request a lovers to enemies with Dean x reader? Say there was miscommunication between the two during a hunt and it just spirals from there? But they still hunt together for Sam. If that makes any sense😂

Warnings: Nothing much just some angst, arguments, falling out of love

Word count: 2,074

You’d managed to avoid Dean for the best part of a week now, but inevitably there had to be a point where you’d have to see him. You were dreading it; not because something happened, but more because nothing had happened. You’d just been drifting away from each other for the past few months, and at some point you were going to have to face the music and admit you no longer felt the same way about him as you did all those years ago.

As Sam hollered your name for the third time, you rolled off your bed with a groan and headed to the bunker’s kitchen to see him grabbing a few snacks and ramming them in a bag.

“Erm…how long is this hunt expected to be?” You crossed your fingers behind your back hoping he was just overly hungry already.

“A week, maybe more. We don’t know much about the case so we’re gonna need to rest up in a motel and get studying first.”

Fuck.

“Really? We can’t just do that here before we go?”

Sam shook his head as he swung his bag onto his back. “We need to scope out the town first, talk to some locals. Is Dean ready?”

You shrugged. “Not sure, I haven’t seen him yet this morning.” Sam frowned but knew not to push the subject further. It hadn’t passed him by that his brother and his partner hadn’t be spending much time together recently but he knew not to get involved.

Dean ended up to be in the garage, giving Baby a fresh clean before she hit the open road. You seized the opportunity to hop in the back seat while Sam loaded her up, meaning he would have to ride shotgun with his brother. You didn’t fancy having to make awkward conversation with your boyfriend for the next few hours, especially with Sam able to listen in. He’d definitely know something was wrong if that was the case.

Having slept majority of the way, the drive to Dripping Springs, Texas, flew by. Before you knew it, you were trying to act like you weren’t disappointed the motel only had one double bed and Sam had refused your offer to sleep on the sofa. Maybe sharing a bed with Dean would help your relationship seeing as you hadn’t done it in a while?

He seemed just as disinterested though, so that wasn’t likely. 6 years together had left the two of you too comfortable, and sure, at this point most couples might be thinking of marriage and kids, but that had never been on the cards for you. You’d always imagined that once your Gran had passed, you’d leave Lawrence and join them properly on hunts, but that just wasn’t working out. You missed caring for her, and working with Dean wasn’t at all like you’d expected it. You were constantly bickering and always too tired to show each other any love. It had quite literally killed your relationship.

You knew Dean felt the same too. He got frustrated when you got hurt, and honestly he could never focus on the job at hand because he was worrying about keeping you safe. Although he knew you could do that yourself, that didn’t change how he felt. To Dean, you’d always be that sweet 17 year old he had a crush on for years.

The next few days dragged. You tried to get out of the motel room as much as possible, volunteering to talk to the locals and to do research at the library so there was always a distraction. You'd established you were dealing with a classic haunting by a woman who was out to get revenge on town members who had something to do with the death of her young son, who had died when playing in an abandoned warehouse that had failed to be secured properly. So far, she had already gone after the families of the town's mayor and the head of the health and safety council. Now, the daughter of the building regulation and planning committee's exec was reporting seeing a strange woman follow her home from school.

Truth be told, this news was exactly what you'd been hoping for. Now you finally had a lead, you could get on with hunting and clear out. With the family shipped out of town, you lay in wait around the house, each one of you stationed particularly. This ghost was sour with revenge, and seeing you'd soiled her plan would certainly mean she'd be after you. As a result, Sam was ready as bait to lure her out, while Dean was responsible for burning the bones, and you tried to tame her with a list of hoodoo shit that would keep her in the house and hopefully slow her down. With the three of you being so split up, you'd managed to avoid Dean for the best part of the day, which had given you a chance to think about what you were doing to do.

You had to break up with him. There was no other choice. Things just weren't the same anymore, and you had to face up to that.

But not before you put this ghost in the ground for good. On Sam's cue, you chanted around the house, following the woman once you caught sight of her. Alongside the younger Winchester's luring techniques, you managed to isolate her in the living room just as the clock struck midnight. As it did, your shoulders relaxed slightly, knowing this was Dean's sign to have the bones burned. Yet the ghost remained passionately visible, lunging at Sam as you were thrown off by her lack of disappearance.

"What the-" you cursed as you shot at her with salt, pulling her away from Sam and sending her in your direction.

"WHY ISN'T SHE ASH?" you demanded as you shot at her again, this time making her go up in smoke. You took a breath as you looked confused at Sam, knowing she'd be back any second.

"I'd like to ask you the same question!" You whirled round to see Dean standing in the doorway, book in hand, chalk on his fingertips.

"Did you burn the bones?"

Dean frowned at you and grunted. "Did I burn the bones? No of course not, Y/N, that was your job!"'

"What?!" you demanded, looking from one brother to the other. "No, Dean, that was your job. Sam distracts, I defend, you burn. That was the plan!"

Sam backed off, distancing himself from the bickering. He'd let the two of you sort out your allocated roles, so he wasn't going to take the downfall.

"That was not the plan! I was the one supposed to stay here and ward the house and weaken the spirit. You're the one who's done all the research, you know where the bones are!"

You couldn't believe this. Yes, you'd figured out where the woman was buried, but you never signed up to do the heavy work. The most crucial part of the plan had just been abandoned because neither you nor Dean had the patience to communicate with each other effectively.

Sam's gunshot bought the two of you back to reality as the ghost returned. "For the love of God will someone please go and burn those bones!" Sam hissed as he battled the now incredibly irate ghost. Without a moment's hesitation, you leapt towards the door, only to be followed closely by Dean. The two of you sprinted down the road towards the cemetery, rolling your eyes that both of you had just reacted when previously neither of you had.

Skidding to a halt at the location, you clawed with your fingers at the soil. Dean had disappeared, only to return seconds later with a shovel, which he eagerly thrust into the ground beside you. It was probably the speediest grave dig in history; before you knew it, you were coating the bones in salt as Dean sacrificed a lighter and sent them up in flames.

You panted as his phone rang, and collapsed back into the dirt at the sound of Sam's voice confirming you'd finally been successful.

"What the fuck was that, huh? We could have all been killed!" Dean ran a hand through his hair as he hung up on his brother, looking at you with piercing eyes.

"Dean, I think we need to talk," you panted.

With a sigh, he collapsed up against a tree and crossed his arms.

"I know. We've needed to talk for a while. Things haven't been the same, have they?"

You shook your head, biting your lip to try and hold back the tears. You'd been so angry at your own feelings for so long, but only now in your exhausted state did the emotion start to get at you.

"I don't know what happened, Dean. Everything was fine, we were fine, then just..."

"...then just it wasn't." He finished for you, shaking his head. "We aren't the same kids we used to be, Y/N. We've grown up, and we've both seen some shit. I mean, I've been to hell for god's sake. That changes people."

"But I thought it would be easier once we were hunting together. No more long distance, no more responsibilities. What went wrong?" The tears were flowing freely down your cheeks and reflecting in the moonlight.

"Maybe that just wasn't meant to be. We worked so well together before, but I guess people change. You've changed, that for sure. Theres this fire in your now...I'm not saying its bad, but you're not who you used to be. You've lost your innocence."

Your body shook with anger. Sure you'd changed, you'd had to change. You were used to the kind, soft side to Dean, the side you saw after the hunt. You'd never quite prepared yourself for how vicious he could be when he was doing his day job, even though you knew you should have expected it. "Yeah," was all you could manage.

"You're a good hunter, a really good hunter. I think if anything our relationship has made it hard to see that. But we can't work together cos things like this happen. You almost killed my brother back there." Oh he was livid now, but so you were you.

"No, Dean, don't you dare put that on me. You were supposed to burn the bones, or at least thats how I interpreted it. I would never put Sam in harms way, and you should know that. But you're right. We can't work together, clearly."

The two of you stood in silence, your heavy breathing the only sound in the dark night.

"I did love you, Dean. I don't know when I stopped, but I did. And I know at some point you did too."

"Michigan, five months ago. After that Wendigo kill, you came out like a different person. Thats when I stopped."

You winced. That hurt. You'd thrived on that hunt, you'd finally felt like you were alive again. You got all the anger about your Gran's death out, and you truly felt like you'd fought like the brothers. You thought you'd made Dean proud.

"There's no saving this, you know." Your voiced sounded like gravel but you held your ground.

"I know, and I'm sorry. What we had was amazing but its just..."

"Gone." You finished for him, this time stronger. He nodded and glanced down.

"I owe you a lot, Dean Winchester. And your brother. But this is our last hunt together. I'm going to continue, no matter what you say. But I can't do this with you any more."

He sighed heavily and shifted his stance. "I know. I can't stop you, and like I said, you're a damn good hunter. But I think it's the right choice."

"It is."

You both stood there, taking it all in. Eventually, the looming silence was interrupted by a faint shouting in the distance and a shaky flashlight started to grow stronger to your left.

"C'mon, we better tidy up this grave before your brother gives us a mouthful for almost getting him killed. We owe it to him to at least see this hunt through."

Dean agreed, scooping up the shovel and getting straight to work. Silently, you worked to let the poor woman rest once and for all. You only hoped that one day, you could rest peacefully too.

Supernatural tag list

@sexyvixen7 @stitchintimefan @tristanrosspada-ackles @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mimaria420 @spnexploration @siospins2 @hellhound-whisperer @nancymcl @rinnie-rintarou @foxyjwls007 @imherefordeanandbones @elephants-bubbles-brachosauruses @craftytrashprincess @tiggytaylor @kye-the-nb @deans-baby-momma @flannellover67

(note: this is a forever taglist for Supernatural so if you'd like to be added/removed please let me know)

[loganlostitall]

Talking to the Moon

Rating: 13+

Word count: Just under 3.5k

Characters: Judith Grimes, Negan Smith (NOT A SHIP!!!!!!); mentions of Carl, Rick, Michonne, Carol, Enid, and R.J.

Setting: Alexandria, post 6 year jump

Content Warnings: sibling grief, talks of death, a little bit of suicidal ideation in here too I think, vulgarity, light talk of typical TWD violence, just lots of sad. Sorry. Fluffy ending tho!

Summary: Judith is getting older, and it’s not fair that Carl isn’t.

Author’s Note: Okaaayy so I really did not want the first piece I published on here to be an angsty vent but life kinda decided to bodyslam me (as usual) so anyways have this lol. I spent all day yesterday writing this in between crying fits and I’m only finishing it now.. oopsie whoopsies. A little context I guess, my older brother was shot and killed 5 years ago, and in 5 years I will be older than he got to be. That’s heavily implemented in here, as well as just the majority of Judith’s dialogue being my own thoughts/feelings. Sometimes it just hits you again, man. My therapist likes me to write it out 🤷🏻 I’m workin on other stuff that isn’t like this so pls bear w me y’all 😭🙏🏽

Beta’d by @murdadixon as alwayysss

Midnight marked her 10th birthday. 

She liked to keep track of time in intervals of five. R.J. was currently an interval of 5. He died at an interval of five. She was reaching an interval of 5 herself, right now. In a demi-decade, she would encounter the age he’d never passed; and in a decade, she would be 5 years older than he’d ever be. Five felt significant, and she did not—she simply felt like her brother’s stand-in. 

Judith sat on the edge of the wooden boardwalk with her legs drawn up to her chest and both arms wrapped around her knees, chin rested atop them, and stared blankly at the water source before her. Tried to mimic its stillness. But she disrupted it, instead, because the tears swimming in her brown eyes splattered down and sent ripples coursing across the surface, growing larger the further they fanned out and expanded. 

That was, similarly, how missing Carl felt. At the start, it was a heavy impact, it obliterated the calmness, and as the years blazed past, it got further away and yet simultaneously… bigger. How could something shrink and grow? How could she grow, every day; and yet consistently feel as if she were being pushed back, made smaller? Small enough to be back in his arms again, like before, like that final night she knew him. 

She would appreciate his last words this time. She would wrangle her brain up into her juvenile hands and pin it down to carve them over the top of her damn hippocampus to keep them there; even if it did mean her blood got everywhere, even if it meant she lost all the rest of her cognitive function. Truthfully, she did not want to function this way. Being medically brain dead would be a graciousness. Or maybe just being bit.

Feeling the fever Carl did would unite them in a way. 

The panels beside her creaked recognizably, a familiar gait and stride, and Judith’s fingers twitched to move instinctively for a gun she knew she wouldn’t brandish. The scuffed tips of two large black boots entered her peripheral vision but she did not turn her gaze. 

“Hey there, Miss Grimes.” 

Negan sat in a loose mirror of Judith’s position—he struggled with holding his legs in exactly the same manner and had to improvise considerably. He got himself comfortable with his legs toward his chest but with a short gap between his thighs, toes pointing outward instead of inward as Judith’s were, and both forearms crossed above his knees to lie his head upon. 

“Don’t really like water, kid, but I’m diving in there after ya if you jump, so please don’t, alright? For me?” 

The preteen wiped her right cheek against her bicep and tilted her head to rest the left cheek against the adjacent knee and look at her guest. Her eyes weren’t really seeing him, but she was trying to acknowledge the fact that he’d joined her. “How’d you get out?” 

He ignored that she ignored his question and instead plastered on the usual grin, even if the edges were heavy and worn down, and lifted a finger to his smile. 

Shhhh, it’s a secret. It went without saying. 

“I should shoot you. I brought my gun,” she pestered, poking a bear with a stick. Only, this bear was a puppy. And the humor behind the words didn’t reach her tone. 

He decided not to address her monotony.

“Mmhmm. Right.” 

“I would.” 

“I know,” he grinned again, more genuinely, and his side administered a dull throb almost out of nostalgia. She had, in fact, shot him. He wouldn’t challenge that.

There were only a few moments that went without speech. Judith found herself gazing ahead again, tapping her right cowgirl boot without tempo because it was simply to alleviate the odd, incessant gnawing in her gut that screamed to bounce her leg, or else. 

“Why don’t I get to have a word?” she blurted out, albeit quietly, almost unaware that Negan could not read her mind and was clueless to what she really meant. The man hummed questioningly as if to say ‘continue,’ and Judith finished verbalizing the thought. “I mean… mom’s a widow, and you’re a widower. Enid is an orphan. Aunt Carol is a v- vi..lo..mah, she lost her daughter Sophia.” The young girl struggled on the pronunciation momentarily before returning to the point. “But what am I? Just… a kid who lost a brother? Don’t I deserve a word? Doesn’t Carl? I think he deserves more than one. I would give him them all.” 

In truth, Negan would not have heard the second half of her statement had they not been knee-to-knee. Even from only having a view of the profile of her face, he could tell that she was fighting back the need to cry. The intensity with which she swallowed, the twitch of the corners of her frown, her small nostrils flaring. She was probably also avoiding allowing her voice to crack. 

Kids don’t ever deserve to feel this way. Adults can hardly even cope with loss. He’d seen it sometimes before, the occasional teen with swollen eyes and dark circles wordlessly offering him a slip with a small, rectangular obituary card stapled to the top left corner to excuse a few days of absence after the passing of a parent, guardian, or otherwise crucial family member. And similar to now, he truly tried his best… when it came to situations like that. It was hard—shit, it still is hard, but after eventually grasping that what most of them wanted was to just be heard (and not to be told that a kick-ass exercise routine could distract a weak mind, or about how being a pussy didn’t get you pussy), he’d take his attendance and approach again with a juniors mitt and baseball to throw at the wall and catch while they cried, screamed, shook, even dissociated some of them. He’d never been a great man, or honestly even a kind teacher; Savior Negan essentially just carried on acting as he had before Lucille’s confrontation, diagnosis, and passing; but the kids who saw through him loved him. When the rest loathed to hear ‘Mr. Smith,’ though no one was to blame for that but himself. To the damaged kids, the whole façade of coolness he tried to upkeep around his classes was utter horseshit because they found him badass when he let them bitch about things without taking to the nearest phone as a mandatory reporter. 

Judith was, arguably, the most mature ten year old with significant trauma that he’d ever sat with. Children that young hadn’t been his area of work, really, but there were a handful of times one of his high school students had to drag along a little sibling because they’d emancipated after the death of the only responsible parent, were granted custody of the kid, and the younger had a day off. Other stories, heavily similar or drastically different, with the same outcome. Judith was more put together than half of the seniors that had dished their shit out on him. In a strictly militant world and with no empire turning to him for guidance, there was no excuse to be assertive around her age bracket. He would tell her she was strong, that she was an Amazon warrior who could brave anything and then have to explain Wonder Woman comics, but the probability was massive that she could only grasp some variation of control over herself in these heavy moments because life now held a sickening promise that anything could be marred with a streak of blood. That you have to always be ready to mourn. 

So fucked up. 

His prior internal assessment to remain silent and give her more time to process her feelings into words proved correct when Judith turned her head back in his direction again with more to express to him. 

“Dad isn’t here anymore to tell me what Carl was like at my age. Or tell me stories about before everything got bad. And mom wasn’t around for all that stuff. But even if she was, I- I hate always hearing about him from other people. About how they won’t ever get to see him grow up. Why does everyone else get to remember my brother? Why doesn’t anybody care that I gotta know he’s not watching me grow up anymore? I want to remember Carl on my own, but I was too little!” Her delicate voice shattered beneath the weight of her last sentence, and the way her eyebrows were flying into all different angles on her face betrayed that her developing mind didn’t know what to do with the guilt that ignited furiously behind her ribs for seemingly such a selfish notion. It was a vicious fact that Judith almost never understood what she was feeling, not acutely. 

But, she trusted Negan. He’d told her things that no one else had cared to let her know. About Abraham. About Glenn. About Sasha, Denise, uncle Daryl. Everyone she loved had been damaged by him in some way, but… they’d all together affected him, too. 

Maybe he changed. Or maybe he’d been keeping this Negan safe. Whatever the case, here he was, out of his cell, not even allowing his knee to bump her own. 

This man had killed people? He was the kindest one here to her. Especially when it came to stuff like this. Other Alexandrians always dismissed her; she didn’t have any “adult” problems worth sparing their time for. How could the big bad wolf be so tame? 

Judith wiped both of her eyes and straightened her left leg out halfway. “If… if Carl hadn’t got bit, what do you think things would be like now?”

And that question certainly beckoned an answer. He had been allowing her to talk as much as she felt necessary tonight, content to simply sit quietly and be an ear for the little girl as she often was for him. His skull would have been split open on one of those prison walls years ago had it not been for his little window and Judith’s spark of rebellious humanity. 

Negan responded honestly, as was always the case with her. “I woulda killed every last one of these dickwipes, and brought you and Carl back to the Sanctuary with me. I don’t kill kids. But I don’t think your brother would have been too crazy about that. Nah, with those titanium balls of his, he would have taken me down, torn all of my people apart limb from fuckin’ limb. Yeah…,” he peered down at Judith, who was just watching him with her elbow on her extended knee and her cheek rested on her palm. No signs of distress. He continued on. “Yeah, Prick thought he was a badass, but Carl? Well, he was the real badass. Anybody could’a killed me, my bet was on him. Catch me off guard, I wouldn’t have fought back. I think he would have stocked one of my big ass trucks with everything he needed and taken off with you knowing he won. But he also would have lost everything.” 

Now, Judith’s energy had shifted back into that murky cloud it had resembled before. Not entirely, but to a noticeable degree. Negan cursed under his breath. 

“Did I scare you talking abou-” 

“You think Carl would have raised me all on his own? You really think he would have done that?”

“Oh, I know it,” Negan nodded adamantly, without aggressive urgency, and chipped a piece of plastic from the aglet of his shoelace to chuck into the water. “Carl loved you more than anyone else, I think.” 

A brittle, cracked sob drew his attention immediately to the little girl beside him, left hand reaching out to comfort on instinct and then hovering uselessly between them. Judith gave her permission with action instead of words; turning her legs off to the side to be able to roll onto her right hip and notch herself against Negan’s side. She rested her head against his knee and old tears from her cheek seeped through the thin material of his jumper. The previously awkward arm dropped around her own and he settled for hanging his hand at an outward angle away from her body. He’d comfort the kid but any one of the adults here would send Michonne into a goddamned stroke by reporting that he’d made an attempt against her daughter's life by, say, scratching the back of her head. Some asinine bullshit. He wouldn’t risk it, and not because of himself. No, he’s a big boy and can handle his own conflicts. But Judith would get in so much unnecessary trouble. 

After taking a minute to gather herself, Judith whispered, “I think I would have liked that better.” 

“…What, Carl taking care of ya?” He queried. “Y’know that means you wouldn’t have your mom, or dad, or-”

“Mommies and daddies die before their kids do, or they’re supposed to. Siblings are- they’re supposed to be there the whole time you grow up, and after. You’re supposed to live your life together. And they’re not supposed to die before you mom and dad do.” 

“Kid-”

“I want Carl. I’d give up anyone here to get him back.” 

It proved remarkably difficult given how much taller he was than her, but Negan managed to make do. He tilted his neck to a sideways angle and rested his head on top of hers whilst fishing through his right pocket. 

Judith peeked up at him. “What’re you doing? Are you gonna stab me for making you sad? I’ve still got my-”

“No. Don’t be nosey,” he goaded and even ventured so far as to stick his tongue out and wrinkle his nose. Her head dropped back down to his leg just as quickly as it rose, and Negan’s fingers closed around the surprise. 

“Sounds like a candy wrapper…,” she mumbled, still too lost in her own head and the darkness residing. 

Two bright blue pouches withdrew from his pocket, and his brown eyes traveled skyward. “Moon’s right above our heads now. Means it’s midnight. I got ya a gift.” 

A second, smaller pair of brown irises gazed upon the same sky, and her bottom lip began to give way into trembles again so Negan damn near shoved the quite literally sweet present directly in front of her face. 

Judith blinked, eyes focusing on the text in front of them that stood out violently against the package design. “What’s ‘Razzles?’” A small hand accepted the curious, but still exciting new treat, and read the yellow script surrounding the name at the top and bottom. “‘First it’s candy, then it’s gum’? What’s gum?” 

Negan had already ripped his open. “You’re about to give me one fat ass kiss, Miss Grimes,” he mused delicately, tossing three colorful disks into his mouth.

His much younger counterpart followed suit, unsure of how to react while the candy crunched before a scintillating smile broke out across her face and two more pieces joined the first. “Where’d you get these?”

“…Okay, don’t laugh,” he deadpanned, and couldn’t help but smirk when Judith narrowed her eyes at him and raised an accusatory eyebrow, still blissfully chewing away. “I’ve gotta secret admirer.” He drew his shoulders up into a loose shrug, threw his hands out in a ‘surprise!’ gesture and dropped his mouth open to an overly enthused smile as the preteen choked on gum. 

“WHAT?!? What do you mean?! Tell me, tell me!” 

He wouldn’t comment on how much tension finally dissipated from his body and mind at the eager enthusiasm on Judith’s face. This had all been so… glum. “Don’t know, but they slip me goodies through the bars on the window. I asked Father Freaky for some paper to draw, keep my mind busy y’know, and left a note up there requesting a special birthday gift for my best friend. They got dropped in this morning.” 

“So, someone here in Alexandria?” she asked, munching her way through her bag of sweets. There was a twinkle in her eyes, finally, so he’d entertain it. 

He shrugged idly. “I’d assume so. I’ve got my fingers crossed there’s some freaky deaky coming my way!!” 

“Oh, ew. There it is, you ruined this whole thing.” Judith pushed on the side of his knee with both hands to amass enough force to actually shove his leg over. 

“Damn. This whole thing, huh?” 

“Mmhmm,” she hummed, her mouth now so full of chewed up gray gum that speaking proved difficult. 

Negan chomped down on a considerable number of candies all at once and reached for Judith’s own pack of Razzles. “Alright, I’ll just take this then, since I fucked up your birthday and all.” A deep, rumbling laugh burst forth from up out of his chest when the ten year old shouted ‘NO!!!’ and a huge wad of gum rolled out of her mouth to plink into the water and bob along to float elsewhere. The pout her bottom lip garnished was impressive and Negan glanced around to the houses in the distance behind them, all of the windows being dark with the quiet insinuation of sleep, to ensure the absence of scrutinizing eyes before taking one of Judith’s hands into his own to unload half the contents of his own candy until her palm was overflowing and a few stray pieces thumped down against the wood. Negan administered the 5 second rule with a quickness and claimed them for himself. 

“Thanks,” she chimed faintly, and set about organizing the surplus of thin, cylindrical candies into separate groups of yellow, purple, orange, pink, and blue. 

Negan tucked his hand back to his side and pointedly did not give any attention to the prominent droop Judith’s shoulders adopted afterward. He wondered fleetingly if anyone in town ever just… gave the kid a hug. “Ah, don’t worry about it. Really. It’s not like I went out and found these myself.” He pointed one of his own bits of candy at her and added, “Well, you can always just find my paramour and thank them yourself.”                

She tilted her head back against his arm to smile up at him. “You just want me to get you deets. You have a crush on this person already, uncle Negan?” 

“I’ll love anybody who gives me attention at this point,” he shrugged again, tone steady despite the admission. “Aren’t I hopelessly in love with you, Miss Grimes?” 

Her braid swung and the sheriff’s hat far too oversized for her head shifted slightly out of place when she nodded. She tucked the intertwined strands of hair behind her ear after they fell into her face and tickled her nose. “I never hear mom say that she loves me.” 

“Ah, she does.” He tapped a finger against his temple once he knew Judith was looking at him and would see it. “She’s got a lot going on up here. But I bet if you went up to Mich and told her first, she’d say it back.” 

The young girl nodded again, though this motion was a simple, stiff jerk and only once. Drastically unlike the one he’d earned for himself just moments prior. Judith didn’t believe that Michonne really loved her, but she could easily surmise that he did. “Love you, too,” she murmured and a hefty sigh followed closely behind. Judith tapped the toes of her boots against the boardwalk and followed Negan’s offered instruction to bravely attempt blowing her first bubble. It snapped into a sticky disaster on her lips. The pair fell into a comfortable, innocent, expectationless silence. Negan eventually polished off the last of his candy and crumpled the wrapper up to tuck away into the pocket he retrieved it from, along with Judith’s once she’d finished her own. She was, reasonably, exhausted, and it didn’t take long for him to realize that Judith had drifted off leaning against him. 

Next thing he knew, the clouds were graying and little hands were nudging his arm, accompanied by a sleep-slurred voice telling him to wake up. His legs were numb from having remained in the same seated position for what had to be at least a couple hours, but Negan still managed to get himself up into his feet and follow her along as she led the way to his cell. A sheepish smile and tired shrug was all he could muster when her eyes lingered on the lock and bobby-pin discarded haphazardly in the middle of the concrete. He took his place on his cot and watched the child close the bars behind him and slide the lock back into place. 

Judith turned from him to walk away, but threw a drowsy smile over her shoulder and waved. And pointless as it was, he spoke after she’d left and her shadow had already passed by his solitary window.

“Happy birthday, kid.” 

I think I get attached to characters like Negan who are dangerous and have soft hearts because that’s exactly what my brother was like.

I miss my Carl ❤️‍🩹

This is my first time writing for TWD, and the first work I’m posting in over 2 years, so I hope it’s good for y’all 🥺

[damagedintellect]

Trafalgar Law x reader

💌 Fake it till you make it: Chapter 12  💌  

Summary:  To avoid an arranged marriage set up by Doflamingo, Law needs to bring home a girlfriend during the Christmas break and you just so happen to be a theatre major in the same dorm at One Piece University. What could possibly go wrong?  

Tropes: College AU, Fake Dating, Idiots in love

💌 Word count: 4,487 💌 <= Previous Chapter | Next Chapter =>

Sanji took a long drag of his cigarette as he approached the manor. He didn’t want to be here. When he left the first time he promised himself that he would never come back and true to his word he hasn’t. Until today, it was the only way to get in contact with his “family” and even though Pudding personally handed him his invitation he wanted to do this for the rest of his nakama. It was the safest way to get everyone on the guestlist without raising suspicion. Even if only his sister agrees it would be better than nothing, otherwise he would be solely responsible for Luffy and he didn’t want that to be on him. Heaven knows what kind of a plan he has in his head, or lack thereof, especially since the only thing that he’s been repeating like a mantra is “I’m going to kick Mingo’s ass” and that wasn’t going to go over well with the media. The gates opened for Sanji’s arrival and he crossed his fingers that this would be an easy twenty minutes tops, in and out adventure. Ideally he’d like to finish convincing his siblings before his father caught word of his presence at the estate. Although just in case he prepared a back up plan, but he really didn’t want to use it.

As he passed through the courtyard he could already hear his siblings' colorful banter. They were always so lively. Taking another drag he then delicately extinguished the end before pocketing the rest. He observed from a far for a moment seeing if he could spot his sister around. Reiju’s company was always decent but she was always off doing who knows what. Luckily she seemed to be enjoying a book on the sidelines of whatever sport his brothers were partaking in. He slipped past his brothers easily as they seemed too involved with keeping the soccer ball in the air to notice him. Once he was right beside his sister she put the book down.

“You’re looking well Sanji. I’m surprised to see you here.” Reiju got a good look at him. She hadn’t seen him in over a decade. Sanji shifted where he stood “I wanted to ask a favor concerning the wedding coming up.”

Reiju smiled “Interesting, I assume you were accidentally invited then? You could have just let it be. I don’t think anyone would have even noticed-"

Sanji politely cut her off "No, I want to go. I was going to ask if you were already using your plus one." His sister's eyes widened at this. She would have thought for sure that he wouldn’t want to represent the Vinsmoke name in public. This was enough to grasp the attention of his brothers.

Yonji was the first to comment, whistling for emphasis “Wow, looks like the runt finally shot up.” The other sauntered up as he tried to compare his height. Despite Yonji being the youngest he was always the most competitive out of the bunch. Sanji only rolled his eyes waiting for Reiju to answer before he had to entertain his other siblings but it was kind of too late for that as the other two made their way over. Great.

“I thought you weren’t going to show your face around here again?” Niji voiced while still juggling the ball with his foot. Ichiji remained uninterested but since Sanji’s presence stopped their game. He figured he would at least see why his younger brother decided to turn up out of the blue. Sanji huffed, pulling out the cigarette again. He really thought he could make it a few minutes talking to his sister before he felt the need for the cancer stick but his brothers had that kind of effect on him. If he’s learned anything from his upbringing, asserting dominance was the only way to get through to them. Instead of explaining the situation he made his demands, “For the wedding I want everyone’s plus one invite.”

Ichiji’s face stayed uninterested but decided to ask anyways “What’s in it for us?” Sanji took a long drag feeling a little sick when adding “I have two lovely ladies that won’t be able to accompany me.” He left it at that for now, the blonde already felt gross using Nami and Robin as bargaining chips he would apologize to them afterwards. He knows they both could hold their own but the objectification of his friends doesn’t sit right with him but he couldn’t think of another way to get them on board.

Reiju smirked, slowly trying to piece together what Sanji was thinking by coming here and asking such a request. “You could have mine, it would be interesting to meet some of Sanji’s friends. I wonder what they’re like.” Seeing Reiju take the offer made Ichiji raise an eyebrow. Ichiji wasn’t going to bring anyone with him anyways so he didn’t really care one way or the other. It was rare for Sanji to exude such confidence. Ichiji decides it would be more entertaining if he let whatever the blonde had in mind happen. He turns to walk away before spouting “Do what you want.” giving a half wave before making his way into the manor. Upon hearing that Niji considers it “Hrm, I guess it depends if she’s well read. I have to keep in mind the media’s presence.”

Yonji looked shocked but also chipped in “You guys can have the boring bookworms I want the hottie! You’re still friends with the redhead right?”

Sanji grimaces remembering that Yonji actually met Nami once. “Yes, I’m still friends with Nami and Robin enjoys history and classic literature.” Sanji stated very flatly, maybe he should have gone with plan B instead. The only reason he didn’t was because he didn’t want to speak with his father. The two boys seemed satisfied with those answers and went right back to their game, leaving Reiju to motion for Sanji to sit.

“So what’s this all about. It must be important if you came all the way to the lion's den. This is more than just wanting your friends to attend the event isn’t it?”

Sanji took one last drag of his cigarette before stomping it out on the pavement and putting the trash on the table beside them. “Am I still that easy to read?”

She hummed mulling it over “More like big sister intuition. There’s not many reasons you would confront your past like this, not after what happened.” Sanji rubbed his hands together “It started out being for (Y/N)-chan but spending so much time with Pudding-chan and getting to know the real Pudding it just doesn’t sit right with me.” He clenched his fist “She should be able to have a choice in the matter, to marry for love rather than status.” Growing up under the Vinsmoke name he remembers not having a choice especially growing up being forced to be a child actor. It only got worse when his mother passed and his father started blatantly ignoring child labor laws. Unlike Sanji who made the choice to leave, Pudding felt threatened to stay.

“Reminds me so much of mom.” Reiju pointed out. “Hopelessly romantic, but that’s just like you. Never change that” She looked up, giving Sanji a wary expression. He didn’t have to turn around to know what that meant.

“I’d like to speak with you in private.”

It was the order Sanji was trying to avoid but he knows that if he were to ignore the impatient man it would be worse. He stood up and followed the man to his office in silence. Giving his sister a reassuring smile before disappearing into the estate. On their way the cook couldn’t help but notice the familiar dents in the wall. Battle scars from a different time when his brothers would push him around for not cooperating on set or refusing to show up for shoots wasting everyone else’s time. He knows now how immature that was but he didn’t know any better. He didn’t exactly have the greatest role models.

Standing outside the office after the fact was strange. Waiting for his father to round his desk was even weirder and the silence that followed was stifling. The elder didn’t sit. He stood facing an old family portrait that has since been covered in one corner where Sanji’s mother once was.

“Ichiji tells me you’re going to attend the wedding, after years of refusing the Vinsmoke name?” Judge doesn’t turn around, just waits for an answer or maybe an explanation. Sanji rolls his eyes “I am and I’ve come up with a proposition that unfortunately would please you as well as help out a dear friend.” He doesn’t have to look to know that the other is smiling; he can hear it in his voice “I’m listening?”

“I know your numbers haven’t been the same since Smile corp. pulled out of the deal, but what if I told you I had a way to stop the wedding and turn Big Mom against them instead.”

Judge finally turned around to meet his son eye to eye. “I would tell you, you’re finally thinking like a Vinsmoke.” He sat down gesturing for Sanji to do the same “ I’ve been meaning to deal with Doflamingo for a while now. Depending on what you have in mind you’d have my full support.” Reluctantly plan B was going to work better than expected.

—

Since that night with Law you were anxious yet relieved that it had settled a few things in your head. Contrary to popular belief Law did have a very good reason for putting on a front and being an asshat. He still loves you an ungodly amount and will make it up to you no matter what happens at the wedding. Doflamingo had been pulling all the strings the entire time. Where you stand with Pudding was a mystery but you don’t resent her, especially after watching her interact with her family but on the other hand you feel like you are forgetting something fairly obvious.

You have been the busiest you think you’ve ever been in your life. You’ve pretty much been attached to your phone making phone call after phone call to triple check everything was set for the wedding. The flowers, cake, entertainment and whatever else was detailed in her wedding binder were all under your jurisdiction, for some reason. You would think that with the power her family had someone else could have taken these responsibilities from you. Especially since this wasn’t any normal wedding. Currently you were glued to Pudding’s side in one of her family's vacation homes that was a scenic retreat and close to the venue. You’ve kept contact with the others to a minimum and you're not sure what the plan even is. You’re getting nervous. Sure you haven’t reached out and you felt partially responsible for coming up with a real plan, but you would think that someone could have contacted you at some point but no one did and now it’s the day before the reckoning and you're kicking up dirt. The most you could remember was that the Vinsmoke family has a beachfront villa near Big mom’s.

Tonight was the rehearsal dinner and it was pretty much just for everyone involved in the ceremony to figure out how to enter, where to stand, and lastly where to go after the fact. You flipped through the binder again trying to check over a fourth time that you hadn’t forgotten anything when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in.”

You looked up from the book to see Pudding looking at you feeling overwhelmed. “Sorry I didn’t mean to bother you but my family keeps arriving and I don’t want to greet them.” You blink at her a few times “You want to talk about it, or just need a spot to hide.”

Pudding was perplexed. “Why would I want to talk about it with you?”

You shrugged “I don’t know, just thought I’d ask. I don’t have much to do until tonight when I inevitably blow a gasket,” you flipped back through the binder to the page with her family on it, gesturing to the book “That and I’ve been curious as to why some of these faces are crossed off.” Pudding was caught off guard. She slowly sat in the chair across from you. Over time you’ve both accepted that you have a strange relationship. Where you are not quite friends but you couldn’t exactly say you were enemies either and you knew for a fact you weren’t rivals, especially when Pudding doesn’t even like Law at all. Pudding has pretty much treated you like shit so she still doesn’t understand the reason you keep being nice to her. It’s not like you have to, it’s just not in your nature. It takes too much effort trying to navigate this weird set of circumstances. Why waste your energy?

“You just want information to use against me for revenge.” she spat childishly.

You snorted “I can think of hundreds ways I could have gotten revenge or embarrassed you by now,” it’s technically true you had thought about it but now knowing that your assumption was correct, that Doflamingo has been watching your every move, it gives you more of a reason not to act on the ideas. “So spill I have to interact with your family too ya know.”

She stared back at you wide eyed before looking away “I mean,” Pudding started off wondering if she should actually tell you or just make up a lie. It’s not like she owes you the truth. “I have a big family, there were bound to be people I didn’t get along with.”

There was something about the way she said it that told you that it wasn’t entirely true but it wasn’t entirely false either, you didn’t try to pry. It was already more of an answer than you thought she would give you “Yeah, I get’cha. I might be an only child but I’m only so so on my extended family. It’s like fool me once, I kill you.” She grinned at your dumb joke grabbing for the binder on the table. “There was one sister that I really wanted to invite but I was told not to.” She flipped through the pages until it landed on one where the picture was crossed off in red instead of black “Lola was my favorite sister. I used to follow her around all the time and she was always really nice to me. Despite our age difference she didn’t treat me like some of our other sisters.” Pudding smiled fondly remembering.

“I used to idolize her because she was the only one of my siblings that wasn’t afraid of standing up to our mother.” Pudding could vividly remember the day Lola told her mom that she didn’t want to be a patisserie. It was also the reason that she decided to take up the mantle instead. For the sake of the sister she loved.

“So what happened?” you were actually invested since you’ve never heard Pudding talk highly about anyone other than Sanji.

“She,” Pudding paused as the joy in her voice faded out, “didn’t want to marry who mama set up for her.” she articulated the rest with a frown as her fate started to sink in. You could see the gears turning in her head as she sullenly looked at her feet. It seems she’s come to the same conclusion as you. You wanted to reach out but you didn’t know how to comfort her. There was probably nothing that you could say that would make her feel better about the situation she was in.

She has gone her whole life being told what to do and how to act similarly to Law with Doflamingo but at least Law has Corazon. Had Corazon. A sour taste fills your mouth as it finally dawns on you that everyone’s parents are just playing with their children like little dolls and it makes you sick to your stomach. An image from your past flicks to the forefront of your mind of a time when your parents were around. It was the moment you decided that you wanted to be an actor because the one thing you wanted more in life was to make everyone you meet feel moved in some way shape or form but simply put, you just wanted to make people smile. For all the days that you didn’t feel good enough.

Both you and Pudding were on the verge of tears. For different reasons but god you felt pathetic about it. You need to stop inserting yourself into other people’s business because at this point you just keep digging yourself a bigger hole.

Hole.

Oh no, you were afraid you forgot something. Snatching the binder off the table startled Pudding as you agonized over the small detail you missed. There had been a hole in the binder where before and after pictures of the wedding were supposed to go. Today would be the last day to take them. A lightbulb went off in your head as you looked out the window. You still had a few hours before the rehearsal. You needed to make another phone call, you had a vision.

“Pudding, get the girls ready and meet me at the beach in an hour,” you stood confident as you sent out a text to the boys to do the same. “We forgot to take photos at the beach!”

She looked up at you stupefied. “Of all the times I thought to myself “What does Law even see in you” I think I finally understand.” You tilted your head to the side “Huh?”

She giggled at you, waving her hand in front of her face to mask the fact that her eyes were watering. “Nevermind, I’ll let everyone know.” As Pudding left the room she smiled bittersweetly. You were such a genuine person it hurts sometimes. One day she would be deserving of your friendship.

—

Sanji was relieved when he got your call. Having his friends meet his family had been a nightmare. Luffy had almost immediately threatened his father upon arrival and if it hadn’t been for Zoro he’s sure that Luffy would have run at him by now. His sister gets along too well with all of his friends in an almost unsettling kind of way and Yonji has not stopped trying to flirt with Nami despite her clear lack of interest. So the moment you gave him an out with the prospect of taking pictures of Pudding he grabbed Luffy and bolted. Not wanting to think about the repercussions of leaving Zoro, Nami and Robin with his siblings.

As Sanji approached everyone on the beach he held up his camera “Hear you guys needed a photographer!”

You and the girls were already in formation waiting for the boys to make their way down. You wanted to take a series of pictures, just the girls, just the guys, then everyone together and lastly one of Pudding and Law. It would be bizarre if they didn’t have a couples shot and you could sense Doffy staring at you from somewhere in the distance but you couldn’t pinpoint where. When you turned around to greet your friends you stumbled a bit at Luffy’s usual running jump hug.

Luffy snickered before whispering “Don’t worry we have a plan, it’s all taken care of.” Your eyes widened not truly knowing what he meant by that but you didn’t have time to ask nor was this the place. That’s when the boys and Law made their way over to you and Law got tackled by Luffy as well.

Sanji had started dabbling in photography around high school after Nami and Chopper made comments that he should make a food blog. He hadn’t taken many pictures of people but the same rules of composition should still apply. It didn’t take long since everyone was waiting around anyway. Although when it was Pudding and Law’s turn, it just didn’t look right.

Sanji was getting annoyed at Law’s detached, almost clinical expressions. “At least hold her shoulder or her hand or something and would it kill you to smile.” Sure he understood the situation but everyone else was playing along just fine. Law only rolled his eyes putting his hand on Pudding’s shoulder. “Like this?”

“No, no absolutely not. You look like a cardboard cut out.” Sanji handed you the camera as he marched over to demonstrate “Move.” The blonde shooed the surgeon away so he could delicately pull Pudding towards him with a loving look on his face. Needless to say, you snapped a picture of it. Law rolled his eyes following exactly to the letter how the cook held Pudding. You gave him a wink right before Sanji took the picture just to mess with him. The face he made was priceless. The best part was he couldn’t say shit.

After that Sanji and Luffy left as everyone else made their way to the venue for the long awaited rehearsal. For once all you had was to sit back and be told what to do and where to go which was a load off of your shoulders. If you didn’t have to be up early to meet with the hairstylists and the florist you would have had a drink. You’ve definitely earned one. The night shockingly went well. There were a few little comments from Linlin and Doffy. Nothing serious, more placement things above anything else, but other than that the two seemed satisfied with the endeavor. You watched as Pudding finally relaxed at dinner and took that as you cue to finally breathe easy. The hard part was almost over now you just had to trust that Luffy and co. had everything else figured out. Which was daunting and probably would keep you up for at least another hour or so. You tossed and turned trying to get comfortable. This might be a problem if you can’t get to sleep at a reasonable hour.

—

Across the way Pudding was also having a similar dilemma. No matter how she laid down she couldn’t get comfy. She added more pillows, blankets, even stuffed animals but it didn’t lull her to sleep and it didn’t ease her mind about tomorrow either. It was a big day. Dare she say the most important day of her life. Not that marriage was the most important event for a lady but this would be the most important social event for the Charlotte family business and she didn’t want to ruin their reputation. After all this isn’t really about her and maybe that’s why she’s bothered?

Pudding got up from the bed opening the curtains on her window to view the moon. Maybe she needed to clear her head before she made such an important decision. Without anymore stalling she put on her night slippers and slipped outside through her balcony. When she got to the sands edge she took off her slippers leaving them by the stairs and casually strolled along the beach as if the sand against her feet would give her the courage or answers she was looking for. The soft sound of the waves crashing distracted her enough to where she didn’t hear the footsteps closing in, not until a familiar shadow joined hers did she turn around in a panic.

“I didn’t mean to startle you! I just saw you out here and thought a walk on the beach didn’t sound that bad.” Sanji looked away sheepishly fixing his hair to give his fidgeting fingers something to do. She lightly pushed his arm rubbing her face. “As if you could scare anyone with that dopey smile of yours.” They laughed and walked along the water's edge enjoying each other’s company. Talking about whatever came to mind at the hour.

Once Pudding deemed that they were far enough away from the villa she let the water run over her toes. Letting the icy water and cool breeze cover her skin. Right now she feels free even if she’s never known true freedom. “When you left your family, were you nervous?”

“Are you nervous?”

They both stared at the moon. Pudding hummed “Not really, I know what’s expected of me.” She was already walking a fine line and despite everything she would be willing to cross it. “I’ve already made my choice.”

—

You were finally about to drift to sleep when you thought you heard a soft knock at your door and being as paranoid as possible you bolted upright. You swear if it’s nothing and was just the wind or something you’re going to scream. You opened the door slowly to be met with Doflamingo. A chill ran down your spine as you straightened out. “Doffy? Is there something I could help you with?” You wondered aloud. To be honest you were half expecting it to be Law or Pudding. His expression was hard to read and he didn’t speak immediately which was rather unnerving but you had to stand your ground. This was a test both of your will and of your patience.

“I didn’t get the opportunity earlier to thank you for everything you’ve done for the occasion. I’m sure if Corazon were here he’d have showered you in praise. I’d like to show my gratitude somehow.”

The level of unease was insurmountable but you tried to stay calm offering a frank “Well I am Pudding’s maid of honor. There’s really no need to thank me for doing my job.” Your heart was pounding in your chess as he approached resting a hand on the small of your back to lead you out of the room and down the hall. The door behind you closed with a soft click. You didn’t dare look back, you kept looking forward and playing along with whatever game the blonde was getting at.

“Nonsense, it’s the least I could do. I know how much work goes into lavish social occasions. I do have to say you’ve exceeded my expectations.”

“H-have I now? You cursed yourself for stuttering but you were terrified.

Doflamingo opened the door to his room and motioned for you to go inside first. “You have,” he dipped down to whisper in your ear “Not many people manage to successfully pull off a heist underneath my surveillance.”

You turned around sharply to see Doflamingo holding up a picture taken from the bachelor party. It was during your set as you were about to spin on the pole. The blood drained from your face.

He knows.

Thoughtlessly you took a step back into the room and were grabbed from behind. A damp cloth muffled your panic before it all faded to black.

___

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