#lol sorry the gif is shitty i made this like......two years ago

[luvendiary]

3 times hiccup asked you to marry him + the time you realized he meant it

hello! this was an early draft for this request: Hello!!! Imagine hiccup telling reader "I'm in love with you" / "Marry me" out of blue after a stare down (can be established relationship or not muahahaha) I like how this turned out, except for the ending. it's sort of shitty in my opinion. also, this isn't proofread. and sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language. feel free to point them out. also, there’s a slight corpse bride reference with the vows!! as always, thank you for reading. let me know what you think and if you'd like more of this. requests are always open!

1.

Snoggletog was one of your favorite festivities. The beautiful coat of snow that hugged the soil, and the way the sunlight softly reflected on it was perfect to you. You loved to see how vikings busied themselves by hanging up ornaments and mistletoe on the doors. You loved hearing the out-of-tune carols that echoed across Berk. And you loved the late cold nights as you and the dragon riders sat around a warm fire and talked about the day’s happenings.

One thing you did not love though, was the Snoggletog play, specially because it had been assigned to you all this year. It was the dragon riders’ responsibility to plan, organize and act it out the day of Snoggletog.

“What about the start of dragon races?” Snoutlout suggested.

“They did that two years ago,” Astrid replied as she sharpened her axe.

“We could do Loki-”

“We’re not doing Loki day Tuffnut,” Hiccup interrupted him.

A moment of silence passed amongst all of you.

“What if, we make a reenactment of Odin and Freya’s marriage? How they stopped the Aesir and Vanir war,” you said while nibbling on your thumb.

“That could work,” Fishlegs said.

“I like it, we could even get the dragons in on this,” Astrid suggested.

“Of course, brilliant idea (Y/N),” Snotlout said as he stood up with a cocky attitude. “Specially because I would make the perfect Odin.” He flexed his muscles and stroke a victorious pose.

You chuckled and pushed him away, “Sit down Snotlout. I was actually thinking that Astrid and Fishlegs could be Freya and Odin.”

“Oh no,” Astrid said immediately. “I’m not good at performing. Plus, you gave the idea, you should be Freya.”

“Alright,” you said. “If no one else is up for it, I’ll be Freya. Fishlegs, are you ok with being Odin?”

“Ye-” his reply was interrupted by Astrid elbowing him. “I mean, I wish I could but…I-I don’t like performing.”

“What but you love perfor-?”

“Hiccup! Why aren’t you Odin?!” Astrid chimed in as she placed her arm around your shoulder while the other went around the brunette-boy’s shoulders.

“Uh…I-I guess,” Hiccup said.

Astrid grinned while looking at you, “Great! It’s settled then!”

“Why would you do that?!” you shrieked as you pressed the palm of your hands to your eyes.

Astrid, who sat next to you overlooking Berk from a nearby cliff, shrugged, “Oh I don’t know. Maybe because I’m tired of you two beating around the bush. Why don’t you kiss already? It’s obvious you want to.”

“Shut up Astrid,” you said while sitting up. You rubbed your hands together to provide some heat to your body. “I’m not even sure if he likes me.”

“You’re as blind as Gothi is mute,” she replied.

“How can you be so sure? Has he said anything about me?”

“You’re hopeless Y/N.”

The days went by, and Snoggletog drew closer and closer. Right after training, you went to rehearsals, and while most of it went by in fits of laughter and jokes, you all managed to build a production. You often tended to practice with Hiccup, since you had the most line together, and it gave you an excuse to spend more time with him. During this period, you had managed to gain some small victories in the love department, holding his hand, dancing with him, and hearing him laugh while you acted out some of your scenes being some. However, there was something you both had been avoiding: the marriage kiss. It made your heart flutter and your stomach swarm with butterflies every time you though about the possibility of kissing him; on the other hand, it also felt like Gronkle iron swishing around your intestines. What if he didn’t want to kiss you? What if he just did it out of pity?

Your mind was plagued with questions up until the big day.

“Good luck,” Astrid said while she gave you a knowing look. She was looking forward to the kiss, and if what she had told you was true, all of the dragon riders were too.

The play started out good, Snotlout and Tuffnut played the Aesir family, while Ruffnut and Fishlegs played the Vanir.

The scene changed and the Aesir were complaining with Hiccup about how Freya’s magic and her help towards the Vanir was the reason for their shortcomings.

I was then your time to appear. After several attempts from the Aesir to try to kill Freya, you and Odin came to an agreement: you were to marry each other.

“Marry me,” said Hiccup. And as you looked into his eyes your breath hitched. He had a smile plastered on his face, and his eyes gleamed.

“I will marry you,” you replied as you offered him your hand and he put the ring on your nuptial finger.

The scene was supposed to end there, you were about to take a step backwards so that the actual marriage scene could take place, however you felt a hand wrap around your wrist, and before you knew it you were being kissed. You were being kissed by Hiccup Haddock.

Your shock was palpable, however you dissolved into the kiss once the initial incredulity had passed. Once Hiccup felt the kiss was reciprocal, he wrapped his arms around your waist and drew you closer.

2 .

Dragon racing was a hefty sport. Ever since it was created, it became a fan favorite amongst Berkians. Once every full moon, a match was held that was sure to be the talk of the town for at least a week. On summer and winter solstice, you held the dragon riding tournament, that usually lasted for about a week; except for that one time when the black sheep had wondered deep into the woods, and you weren’t able to find it for two days.

Point of the matter is, dragon racing was a serious issue for vikings. And that’s why victories where celebrated so grandly. You never particularly cared for the celebrations, however wining was important to you; your usually carefree nature was irrecognizable when it came to the sport as you became a furiously competitive rider. This change, spared no one. Not even your boyfriend.

“Incoming!” you called out before snatching the black sheep from Hiccup’s arms, as you held on with your legs to (Y/D)’s saddle while she flew in an upside down position.

“Hey!” he shouted in response with a light chuckle.

“I wish I could say I’m sorry, but I’m not!” you replied with a shit-eating grin directed his way. With the black sheep secure in your arms, you flew away, not a hint of remorse visible on your face.

You returned to your upright position and quickly flew up to your basket and threw in the black sheep. As soon as you do so, you hear the crowds cheers and applause mixed with the blow of the horn, signaling that the match has ended.

Astrid joined you on the platform, followed by Ruff, as they cheered you on and celebrated your team victory.

Hiccup watched you, still mounted on Toothless with a lovesick smile present in his features, “I’m going to marry her,” he said as he took in your beautiful smile.

“I don’t think you’re her type,” said a voice next to him. Tuffnutt flew next to him with a pissed expression -probably because of their defeat- “but go for it. I’m sure my sister would be flattered.”

3 .

“Do you think there are other people out there?” you asked as you stared blankly at the stars. “I mean, besides us dragon riders and dragon hunters. Do you think that maybe there’s another civilization that has been familiar with dragons long before us?”

You heard Hiccup chuckle, “Possibly, maybe they even know of species we have yet to discover.”

“I wonder if they maybe think the same of us. Maybe we’re some strange advanced civilization to them”, you said with a light giggle as your thoughts went wild with the idea of the unknown. “Or maybe, we’re cavemen in comparison to their civilization. Maybe…they know about our existence, and they have just decided to leave us alone because we’re not worth their time.”

“That’s a bit depressing isn’t it?” Hiccup asked, humored by your rambling.

“I don’t think so. I think it’s exciting…” you said slightly breathless as you stared at the vast abyss of twinkling lights that spread above you and beyond. “Just imagine everything we’ve yet to discover.”

You faintly heard the huffs and growls of your dragons, who were entertained by Hiccup’s prosthetic leg as they fought each other for it.

Hiccup allowed himself to steal a glance at you for a fraction of a second. He thought that the view in front of you was beautiful, but to him, the real wonder was sitting right next to him. You looked breathtaking with the starry abyss reflected in your eyes. Yet, you were so unaware of it.

“Marry me.”

He didn’t mean to actually say it. But he just couldn’t control himself when he was with you.

Your trance was broken and you stared at him wide eyed, in disbelief at what he had just said. However as soon as you saw his expression mirroring yours, you burst out laughing. You couldn’t say truthfully that you had never though about marriage, especially with Hiccup.

Hiccup’s startled expression morphed into confusion.”W-What? Why are you laughing?”

“Are you sure you want to marry me?” you asked in between giggles. “You don’t seem very sure.”

“What? Y-Yes! Of course I’m sure! Why wouldn’t I want to marry you?” his eyebrows furrowed in the way you loved. The way that told you you had successfully managed to get in his head. He had turned his body so that it was now mirroring yours, and his shoulders were raising up and down as they usually did when he was trying to explain something or defend a point.

“Fine then. I’ll marry you.”

His rambling stopped immediately. “What? Y-You will?”

You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “Sure. Why not?”

You stood up then as you walked around the small island you had stumbled upon earlier that day. Leaving a very flustered and confused Hiccup behind.

“Wait! Where are you going?” he called after you as he struggled to get up. He rambled on as he chased you, asking about arrangements and other things.

“Aha!” you said victoriously as you crouched down over a patch of grass with some wildflowers sprouting out.

Hiccup peered over your shoulder, trying to see what you were doing.

Eventually you stood up and extended your hand towards him. He stared at you blankly for a moment, and muttered to himself, tryin to understand your actions. Still, an amused smile was present on his face.

“Well?” you said after a bit. “Give me your hand.”

He did as you instructed, and then you took out your other hand from behind, which gently held a blade of grass along with some small wildflowers intertwined with each other, forming a ring.

“I know it’s not the best craftsmanship, but I figured we couldn’t get married without rings,” you explained with a soft giggle.

Hiccup grinned down at you, and laughed incredulously. He wondered how he ever got you to agree to be his. “I’m afraid to tell you dearest, but I don’t have a ring for you.”

You sighed mockingly and rolled your eyes. “I know that. I assumed you would be too in your head about your future duty as chief and the dragons to think about me.”

“Hey!” he protested immediately. “I’m always thinking about you-”

“But worry not!” you said as you giggled playfully. “Since I know you well enough to be married, I know you well enough to be prepared for our wedding.” You reached into one of your pockets and puled out and identical ring, which he gently grabbed.

He stared down at you, with a skeptical expression.

“Well, go on with it. Do you want to marry me or not?” you asked as you tilted your head slightly to the side.

Hiccup sighed and then locked his eyes with yours. “I, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock, the Third, make this oath. With this hand I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine."

Once the traditional vows were finished he gently took your hand and slid the delicate ring onto your nuptial finger.

You watched with a smile as he carefully placed it, and once he was done, you repeated the vows and slid his ring onto his own finger.

With your ceremony done, your lips met in a gentle and warm dance. You felt as his hands slid down your back and rested on your hips, holding your body closer to his.

“This is the second time we’ve been married now,” he whispered as he broke apart form the kiss,

“How scandalous,” you whispered back with a soft laugh, as you remembered the Snoggletog performance and how it ended up with your first kiss.

“Maybe the next time we get to do it, you’ll actually be wearing white.”

You stared up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Is that so? Does that mean you’d like to bed me next time?” you teased.

“I’d love to bed you now,” he said with a slight chuckle. “But I’m aware you’d rather follow the traditional path.”

You laughed and patted his chest. “Well, you’ll better get me that white dress quickly then.”

4.

Hiccup had been acting weird all day. Evading you and whenever you managed to track him down he responded any question you had in a dismissive manner. You had figured you should let him alone for a while, at least until he was ready to talk about whatever was bothering him.

He did tend to get too into his own head whenever he was worried, and it took you telling him about it for him to realize he could share his burden with you. But this time it was different.

When you had asked what was bothering him he dismissed you as soon as he could and continued what he was doing.

It had hurt you. It made you think if you had done anything wrong, but you couldn’t think of anything. It was scary thinking about what this could mean for the both of you.

“And you’re sure he hasn’t ever acted like this before?” Astrid asked as she tried to make sense of the situation with you.

You where both sat in the Great Hall, as the rest of the vikings ate their dinner. You however, couldn’t seem to make anything go down past your throat, as worry consumed you.

“Yes Astrid, I am sure,” you replied rather harshly. “I don’t even know where the hell he is right now. For all I know he’s probably off in another girl’s house. Maybe he got tired of waiting for me. Maybe he realized he doesn’t want this sort of commitment…”

You knew that this was irrational thinking. Hiccup had never given you signs that he didn’t want to be with you anymore, on the contrary, he was always very reassuring on how much he liked being with you. Up until now you had never had any reason to doubt your relationship; but up until now, Hiccup had never behaved like this either.

“Don’t say that! That boy is crazy for you. He has been since we where thirteen.”

You sighed and buried your hands in your hair. “Then why is he acting like this?!”

“I think you should ask him yourself,” Astrid said as she placed a comforting hand on her friend’s back.

“I’ve already tried that…” you groaned out. Your voice muffled by your arms, on which you were resting your head.

“Give it one more try. Maybe he’ll snap out of it.”

Reluctantly, you agreed and made your way up to the watch tower. It was Hiccup’s turn to keep watch tonight, so you knew he wouldn’t be able to escape this time.

You felt the heat of the fire before you saw it, and you knew he was there.

“You need to cut the crap Haddock,” you started as you saw the faint outline of his shadow as you were nearing the end of the stairs. “If I did something wrong, just tell me right now because I can’t keep doing this. We’re not teenagers anymo-”

Your throat closed up as soon as you saw him. A gasp escaped your mouth and your hands flew to your face.

In front of you, Hiccup was down on one knee and a small wooden box sat comfortably on the palm of his hand.

“You bastard,” you whispered just to yourself.

He chuckled at that and smiled as he saw your reaction. He then opened the box to reveal a small silver ring in the shape of some intricate patterns.

“My dearest Y/N…” he started, but the lump in his throat wouldn’t let him go any further.

“Oh Hiccup…” you breathed out as you approached him slowly.

“Please marry me,” he said finally.

You crouched in front of him with tears in your eyes and held his face in your hands.

“Of course I will marry you,” you replied as a teary laugh escaped your throat.

To him, it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

He laughed then, as he slid the ring in, and looked up at you. He cupped your cheeks with the palm of his hand and pulled you closer until your lips met. He tasted tears and relief in that kiss.

You eventually separated and you hit his chest lightly.

“Don’t ever do that to me again you bastard!” you said as the tears flowed, and you whipped them off as nervous laughter escaped your lips.

“I swear this is the last time love,” he chuckled as he crouched his head slightly to help you whipe your tears.

“Not that! Don’t ever avoid me like that again Hiccup! I was starting to think that maybe you didn’t want me anymore…”

Hiccup grabbed your chin gently and made you look up at him. “Theres no one else I’d rather want.”

You laughed nervously once again and offered him a teary smile.

“I’m sorry I scarred you love. I just…I was so nervous.”

“It’s ok…” you reassured him. “I understand.”

He smiled down at you and whipped another tear. You didn’t mean to keep doing it, but you had been so worried all day long that it was finally coming out. You didn’t want to ruin your moment like this. It was supposed to be a moment for celebration and happiness. You tried to make it stop.

“You can cry. I will lift your sorrows,” Hiccup said with a soft laugh as he whipped another tear.

You smiled then, tears still flowing out. But you knew it would be alright. He would make you feel alright. He always did.

[satellitespinner]

✼ mommy issues .. (two)

a/n: PLEASE READ CONTENT WARNINGS ! holy gyat i just ate good chilli and it made me wanna get pregnant ANYWAYS.. i was gonna add spice but i found out the girl i like had a crush on a dude so you get more angst:) enjoy

content warnings: ANGST readers child is described to have curly hair, reader is of spanish speaking descent. (or atleast speaks it.) we on some white people shit lowk… ellie is good with kids😍😍😍😍😍 reader works in a hospital! you kids lowk an ass.. ellie has another panic attack. ellie still sad. CANADA MENTIONED RAAAHHHHHHHH cat brought up!!!! we almost get a kith…. this bitch is not proofread

wc: 4.4k

taglist @flowersforvi @ellslvr @saturnsdrafts @3lli3l0v3r @williamssgirl @liasxeatt @adelaide013 @a-little-bit-of-everybody @elliessweetheart @pedropascalsbbg @ellies2missingfingers @nelzooo @r3starttt @jaeminpookie @onlinelesbo @tphmnv @p4ison1vy @pascals-doll @snowy-vee @diddiqueen @littlegingerperson5 @ellieslob @elliessluutt @macaroni676

a few days later ellie finds herself sitting in a booth at her work with her two colleagues. tonight was the first time she was going to babysit your son, and she was terrified

she found that in this moment was the first time her thoughts weren’t plagued of joel since he died.

“i swear! not even light years could dim such a woman.” ellie describes you as if you were a goddess. well, to her you were.

“can you shut the fuck up with that weird space shit and talk like a normal person?”

jesse scolds jokingly. he winces in pain as dina’s foot meets his shin under the table.

“whatever, dude. it’s true.” the girl sulks.

“hey! speaking of space nerd shit. how’s school going, el?” dina asks with a smile on her face.

little did she know the mere mention of school caused gut plummeting anxiety for ellie.

“uhh, it’s good. it’s- school, you know?.” ellie mutters, there isn’t much to say. besides the fact that she’s gonna fail if she doesn’t scrape together a thousand dollars for fucking textbooks.

sometimes ellie wondered if dina struggled with money. she works this shitty waitressing job for twenty bucks an hour, and she has a son. but then again, she didn’t have the burden of school on top of all her other responsibilities.

the table goes quiet after ellie’s response. she’s not one to open up about her personal life. she only told dina about joel dying a few weeks ago.

joel. joel.

ellies mind clouds over. like a switch that clicked, making her go from happy to sad in a matter of seconds. she was always like that.

“ellie?” she hears a feminine voice break her out of her trance. a sympathetic expression on dina’s face when ellie looks up at her.

“sorry. what did you say?” she throws in a fake smile to distract from the fact that she was on the brink of another panic attack.

the last time she had a panic attack at work she was so embarrassed she didn’t come in for a week.

“i asked if you needed a ride tonight. y’know cause of the baby sitting.” dina offers, again.

ellie thinks about arguing with the girl, but she decides against it. knowing she’ll just end up in dina’s passenger seat anyway.

“yeah that would be awesome. thanks.” ellie couldn’t help but feel even more guilty every time dina offered. she felt like she was taking advantage of her. even though she knew she wasn’t.

ellie huffs out of her cheeks before standing up from the booth. “time to get back to work.” she jokingly frowns. causing jesse to laugh.

“it was time to get back to work 10 minutes ago.” he corrects in a ‘told you so’ tone as they start walking back to their designated areas.

“fuck off.” she peers, stopping so dina can catch up to them. she sticks her tongue out at jesse when dina places a hand on her shoulder.

“what a gentlewoman, she’s gonna love you.” she whispers and shoots ellie a wink. leaving ellie flustered yet rolling her eyes.

6:45

you had to be at work in an hour and your son was not cooperating.

“felix!” you shriek, the child was running around with a cheeto you gave him 3 hours ago. you fight the urge to laugh at his un styled curls and grimey face, but your stern mom facade over rode.

“¡vuelve aquí niño sucio!”

(“come back here dirty boy”)

he continued to run wild like a chicken with no head. you start to get sick of his behavior and put your foot down.

“felix. now.”

he stops in his tracks at your stern tone. he sulks as he makes his way to you. you smile at his obedience.

you take his gross cheeto and toss it into the trash. he pouts at your action which causes you to scoff. “put that lip away, chiquito.” you tease him.

he lightens up fast. his sad attitude being replaced with a toothy smile. it was infectious. whenever he was happy, you were happy.

“there we go!” you laugh as you zip up his sweater. he scrambles away before you could wipe the dirt off of his face. you sigh.

you picked your battles with him.

you decided to shoot ellie a quick text, hoping to prepare her for your crazy kid.

ellie’s running around the house in hopes to baby-proof the place when she gets a text from you.

sexy neighbor: hey ellie! he’s almost ready, and please excuse the dirt on his face. i promise i’m not a bad mom lol.

she smiles and begins to type back.

ellie: all good haha, is there any specific allergies or things you need done tonight?

she shuts off her phone and continues to clean up, moving the whiskey on the counter into the high parts of her cupboard.

she runs to her room and changes into a pair of gray sweats and a clean hoodie.

sexy neighbor: nope no allergies! could you make him dinner? if it’s to big of an ask i can totally send something! just say the word.

ellie: oh absolutely. i already planned to make him dinner anyway.

sexy neighbor: oh wow thank you so much, you’re going to be a great babysitter i’m sure 😉

ellie’s cheeks heat up at the text. you were such a mom. she thought to herself. she was just going to like the message when another comes through.

sexy neighbor: he is insisting to bring his coloring supplies. i hope that’s okay..?

ellie: oh wow were going to get along well. that’s totally fine :)

sexy neighbor: thanks sweetheart

a few minutes ellie’s front door is being knocked on by a small hand. when she opens the door she’s met with a backpack clad felix and you. in scrubs.

“hi!” she exclaimed as soon as she opened the door, her words mostly directed at the young boy.

“hello!” your son replies quickly. “i brought toys for us to play with!” she tells her, like he’s known her forever.

“oh thank god.” she puts a hand over her heart as she crouches down to his level.

“toys r’ scarce around here..” she warns. felix looks at her confused, but you laugh.

ellie stands up and puts out her hand for the boy to take, which he does. you smile at the interaction before crouching down to him.

“te amo, cariño” you gently whispered into his ear as you give him a small peck.

you stand up quickly and pull ellie in for a quick hug as well.

“thank you, again.” you sighed into the hug as you expressed your gratitude. ellie smiled at you. she really wanted to kiss you right now.

“don’t sweat it, now get going mom. you’re gonna be late!” she jokes as she looks down at your son.

“you’re right. i should go.” you make your way to the car and get in. you roll down your window and blew kisses at your son, who was now in ellie’s arms. you shoot ellie a wink before taking off.

ellie puts your son down, keeping his hand interlocked with hers as she takes him inside.

“hey kid, does your mom speak spanish?”

—————————————————————-

you found yourself immediately trusting ellie when you first met her. her green eyes reminded you of your own sons.

you saw yourself in her quite a bit, you could tell she was hurting. when she opened up to you that night in your kitchen about her father you could tell.

she told you she had grown up without a mother and all you could think about was nurturing and comforting her like she deserved.

you also saw the way she looked at you.

ellie found great comfort in your sons presence. he distracted her from her usual routine, which wasn’t the healthiest..

currently, felix had ellie drawing each one of his toy cars.

“like this?” she asks, flipping the paper to show him her drawing of a red car.

“no!” he denies before showing his own. a paper full of scribbles with his name poorly printed at the top.

“ohhh.. i see.” she says before flipping the paper back to herself and scribbling atop her original drawing.

“like this?” she asks once again.

“yes!” he confirms. ellie laughs at his childish antics.

the boy had requested a grilled cheese sandwich for dinner around 8:30.

“yeah i could go for a grilled cheese right now.” ellie agrees as she pats his head.

ellie had mastered the art of cooking before she was 14. when joel started fostering her the first thing she asked him was if she could use the kitchen.

although she would do anything to do that for her career, in this economy there was no chance. so she settled on astrophysics. and boy was it expensive.

she just hoped that everything would work out and she could make joel proud.

your shift was fucking exhausting. first, some random psych patient spit in your face. then, you spilt coffee all over yourself not even halfway through the night.

you were ready to go home and see your baby.

you had texted ellie a few times throughout the night for updates and she replied with something positive every time.

ellie next door: yeah he’s fine don’t worry! hes coloring right now.

you: awh that’s my boy. i hope he’s not being to much.

ellie next door: nope not too much at all

ellie next door: *one attachment*

he says hi mama !

you: oh my god aweeeeeee you two are so cute.

you smiled and saved the image to your camera roll without hesitation. it was a picture of your son at ellie’s kitchen table, markers and paper littered her table.

the reflection of her on the black television caught her smiling widely as he waved at the camera.

you: did he eat anything yet?

ellie next door: yep! he requested a grilled cheese. he also had some snacks earlier.

you: perfectttt you’re a life saver!

ellie contemplates how she should respond to your message. she could start flirting or she could img fucking chill and be normal.

she chose the latter.

ellie next door: haha! it’s really no problem :)

ellie had put your son to bed in her bedroom rather than the couch. the kid had toddled in there before ellie could reach him.

she tried to chase him down but his curiosity made him fast and sneaky.

“get back here lil’ man!” she giggles as his tiny feet smack against the hardwood floors.

he giggles as he ran away from her, running into the first open door he sees, that being ellie’s room.

he was awestruck by the many comic book posters and the guitar in the corner of the room was where he was headed.

before ellie grabbed him, that is.

“i don’t think so.” she laughs as she picks him up with ease. gently tossing him onto the bed.

“you have a boys room. but you’re a girl.” the boy points out, not in a bad way. ellie could tell he was just stating what he saw.

“yeah thanks for telling me i didn’t know.”

by the time you arrived home the sun was about to come up, and you were fucking exhausted. you contemplated asking ellie to keep him the rest of the night, but you didn’t.

your kid, your responsibility. you reminded yourself. as you knocked on ellie’s door.

pajama clad ellie opens the door with a smile, welcoming you in immediately.

“hey ellie, how was it?” you ask with a yawn. she guides you over to her kitchen island. her house layout almost identical to yours.

ellie smiles and describes her night with your son in great detail. your heart melts at the way her face lights up during certain points of her story. she recalls how she chased him around after dinner and he insisted on sleeping in her room.

your reach into your purse and searched your wallet, you spoke as your hands fumbled in your bag.

“i really cannot thank you enough,” you begin, finally pulling out your wallet and pulling out a few twenties for ellie. she looks confused as you try to pass them to her, putting her hands out to decline.

“you already paid me, remember?” you nod - urging her to take the extra cash.

“i just wanted to give you a little extra.” you smile and ellie almost cries. she held it together though, she probably told you thank you about forty times before you laughed and told her it wasnt a problem.

ellie lead you to her bedroom to retrieve your son, who was dead asleep underneath her planet print bedsheets. ellies cheeks turned pink when you giggled and said; “nice sheets, el.”

you tried to gently wake your son but he wasn't having it. you grabbed his arm to pull him out of the bed. he groans and slides himself underneath the covers. you are fully on your knees at this point. “i swear, if you embarrass me.” you threaten in a whisper so ellie didn't hear, she still did.

ellie chuckled lowly. “he can sleep here, its pretty late anyways.” she smiled.

you slightly bit your lip. “are you sure?” it wasn't ellie that you didn't trust, it was your kid. ellie wasn't hearing it.

“positive.”

sleepovers at ellies became a recurring thing after that. your son was so excited everytime she babysat and it made your heart so full.

this time in particular your son was extra excited. ellie had promised him ice cream for not putting up a fight to leave the previous time.

usually she greeted you at the door with a smile and a hug. but this time she didn’t answer at all..

“mama where’s ellie?” your son asked. “i don’t know baby.” you reply with a raise of your eyebrow.

you saw her arrive home, you two even spoke briefly before she went in to unwind. she seemed dull today.

you knew something wasn’t right so you decided to go in. your son followed you close behind. you sat him on the couch and advised him not to move.

the house was dark. you slowly stepped down the hallway.

“ellie? honey?” you called out, to your surprise there was no reply. a shiver crept up your spine.

you walked until you were faced with her bedroom door. it was slightly open. so you knocked before you stepped inside.

“ellie?”

the door cracked open as you entered. you didn’t know what to expect but it definitely wasn’t that.

ellie was laying in her bed, fetal position. sobbing her brains out. you were surprised you didn’t hear her when you were walking down the hall.

she gasped for air as you rushed to her. you sit down and sit her up so her back is against the headboard.

“shh, you’re okay. i’m here.” those words, although comforting triggered even more tears to fall. she didn’t know what she was doing.

the girl screamed in your arms for what felt like forever and you just sat there and held her. you whispered sweet words into her ears and rubbed circles on her back.

eventually your son had run through the door. a little gasp leaving his lips at the sight of ellie.

“ellie are you okay!?” he practically screamed in her face. you took your free hand and tried to shove him out the door.

ellie’s loud cries turned into soft sniffles as he wouldn’t leave. your son practically jumped onto her to try and make her feel better. your heart drops but ellie just laughs and pulls him into a deep hug.

ellie looks to you as your son babbles absolute nonsense into her shoulder.

“i’m really sorr-“ she starts, but you instantly cut her off.

“absolutely none of that.” you say, in your mom voice. her eyes widen at your tone.

“can you stay with els while i make a quick phone call?” you ask your son. he stands up tall. “yes!” he nods as if he were superman. you and ellie both laugh.

ellie knew exactly what put her in that position. her entire day was fucked from the beginning.

she should've called out of work when she woke up from a dream nightmare about joel.

she couldn’t stop thinking about the dream while doing her morning routine, or skating to work. which ended with her on the ground and her board in half.

if that wasn’t enough, while she was on her shift her ex walks in.

“you’ve got to be kidding me.” she whisper-yells as she watches the black haired, tattoo ridden girl takes a seat. with a new girl.

there was no way in hell she was going to serve them. she couldn’t ask dina, her table kept sending back the food. ellie was ready to go over there and rip them a new one. she refrained.

jesse couldn’t, obviously. she wasn’t going to ask sam. she looked like she was also on the verge of tears. i guess everyone’s having a shitty day. she thought to herself as she walked over to cats table. except you.

“ellie! hey!” cat smiled, she wasn’t happy to see ellie, it was an evil smile. she was happy to terrorize ellie.

“i forgot you worked here!” she continues, earning an eye roll from ellie. sure you did, bitch.

ellie keeps it short and sweet. oh how badly she wanted to ask if this was her new girlfriend. but she didn’t.

“what can i get for you?” she asks, she didn’t even bother plastering a fake smile on her face.

cat and her whatever she is tell ellie there orders and she’s out of there. she doesn’t even give out her scripted response of.

“great choices! that’ll be right out for you!”

she just leaves.

when ellie returns with the two plates the pair look to be in deep conversation.

perfect ellie thought. she could just put down the food and get the fuck out of there-

“so how’s joel?!” cat asks, her lips pursed and her hands intertwined underneath her chin. ellie takes a deep breath. she should’ve docked cat in the face. she didn’t.

the fucking nerve that this bitch has.

ellie doesn’t reply. she turns around and speed walks back to the kitchen where she breaks down for the first time that day. dina ended up finding her and bringing her home early.

to top off her picture perfect fucking day. ellie gets home and finds a new email from her prof. she quickly skims through. as soon as she read the words “cost” and a four digit number, she was done.

her wobbly legs about to give out underneath her as she lays down on her bed. she takes a few deep breaths but it doesn’t help.

she didn’t even hear you come in. but soon enough you were rubbing her back and telling her that it was going to be okay.

she couldn’t help but cry more because the last person to comfort her like that was him.

eventually you calmed her down. you left for a few minutes and came back with a glass of water and a few pain killers.

“take these, your head must be killing you.” you sit down next to her and rub her back as she throws the pills back.

god. ellie felt like such a child.

“good girl.” you whisper as she takes a few more deep breaths. eventually calming completely. the comment didn’t pass hee though. her cheeks (among other things.) were suddenly hot and sticky from tears.

she turned to make eye contact with you, her eyes blood shot. you wondered how long she had been crying for.

the first words that left ellie’s mouth were simple. “did you still want that ice cream, lil man?” your son jumped up and down before grabbing her hand and pulling her off into the kitchen.

ellie had sat him down with a kind portion of chocolate ice cream before she walked up to you.

“hes more than welcome to sleep here tonight. if you don’t feel like picking him up.” she clarifies. her hands on her hips.

“oh ellie, i called out of work. we’re both staying.” ellie’s jaw drops. she instantly starts shaking her head in denial.

“no no you didn’t need to do that trust me, i’m really fine-” you pull her in for a hug to shut her up. you hold her tightly as she sighs into your shoulder.

“i’m sorry.” she whispers. you could only imagine how embarrassed she must’ve been.

“don’t be. you’re human.” you reassure her. you wanted to cry now too. you knew she was going through a bit of money trouble but how broken was this girl?

that night after your son went to bed you listened to ellie rant about her life for hours.

for the most part she held back tears but when she brought up joel you could tell it was hard.

you didn’t pry, or ask questions. you just listened. you listened to the good and the bad.

you two laughed when she told you about when she kissed her best friend riley, and then cried when she told you that riley had moved to canada and that they haven’t talked since.

you had told ellie about how you discovered you were a lesbian during your marriage.

you were bruh shocked to find your now ex-husband very cool with it.

she found out that you guys shared custody and he owned a house in a different part of the city. ellie was a bit envious of your seemingly normal life. you didn’t have to worry about money. atleast, not as much as she did.

you were nodding along as ellie told you about joel. joel had fostered ellie since she was twelve, he adopted her officially when she was sixteen.

she told you how he taught her the guitar, and let her get a tattoo before she turned eighteen.

ellie and joel’s relationship was rocky before he passed. ellie was going through that age where she needed a mother when she started acting out.

“i was always angry.” she confessed. “i would say the cruelest things to him and he would just,” she paused, looking for the right word. “he just took it.”

you frowned at this.

if you had known about any of this you would have never thrown your kid at her for half the week.

among the bad, you also learned a few interesting things about ellie.

she really liked to cook, and she was fucking good at it. you discovered that when she pulled out leftover pasta and served it to you like you were a member of the royal family.

eventually it was your turn to talk her ear off. however, there wasn’t much to tell, you thought.

“uhm- my favorite movie is tangled.” you laughed. ellie blew a raspberry.

“oh c’mon mama, you didn’t have like - a crazy childhood?” she asked. mama, huh?

you shrugged and spoke “not much to tell.” ellie rolls her eyes.

“alrighty then.” she ponders for a moment before speaking “you wanna watch a movie?” she asked, smiling like a fox. you felt your core tighten.

you accepted her offer and she reached out and helped you off her bar stool.

“what a gentle woman.”

“so i’ve been told.”

you and ellie didn’t settle on a movie. she sat you down and told you that you were watching tangled.

you put your hands up in defense. “if you insist.”

“i do insist.” she lays a soft pink blanket over the two of you as the movie begins.

“didn't picture you as much of a pink girl.” you state, covering your arms up with the blanket.

“m’ not, it’s just for you.” she says, her eyes only leaving the television to meet your own.

“just for me?” you ask, putting a hand over your chest in flattery.

“mhm” she replies with a wink and turns her focus back to the tv. it was your turn to feel flustered at her actions. she was quite the flirt apparently.

rapunzel was currently interrogating eugene when you turned to ellie.

“this is also his favorite movie.” ellie smiled at the fact. “is it really?” she laughed. not a condescending laugh, but more of a ‘that’s the cutest thing i’ve ever heard’ laugh.

“it is! he loves it so much, it’s adorable.” you tell her.

“you’re adorable” ellie accidentally admits. her face flushing when she’s noticed what she said.

she’s about to profusely apologize and possibly crawl in a hole and die when you giggle.

“i could say the same about you.” you whisper, shifting your body a little closer to her own. you were already close, but now your thighs were touching.

you tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, her eyes still on the screen. you burn holes in the side of her face. she doesn’t budge.

“ellie?” you whisper, you see her swallow before turning to look at you.

“y-yeah?” her pupils had dilated just a bit and you swore her freckles were more prominent. maybe you were a bit too close-

“you’re very pretty.” you tell her, your eyes darting from her eyes to her lips. then back to her eyes again.

ellie didn’t respond, instead she smirked and licked her lips. “yeah, you think so?” she asks, mostly rhetorically but you answer anyway. “i know so.”

ellie’s lips are dangerously close to your own when she slips her hand under your chin.

“i think you’re the prettiest.” she whispers. you almost didn’t hear her.

you're closing the gap between you two when you hear your sons sleepy voice come out of nowhere. you and ellie both quickly pull away from each other and she clears her throat.

“‘punzel!” he cheers, one of his pant legs riding up his leg, his hair all frizzled. you both light-heartedly laugh at the boys appearance.

“c’mere, baby.” you bring your arms out from underneath the blanket. open for him to crawl into. he obliged and crakes into your lap. you couldn’t even be mad at him for being up so late at this point.

ellie reached up and strokes his hair gently.

fucking cockblock

[mrtwizz]

memories - bella ramsey

Pairing: Bella Ramsey x fem reader

Summary- Bella breaks up with you and you stay friends, what happens when they come crawling back to you after realizing they still love you?

Warnings: angst, drinking to ignore problems, not learning from mistakes, possibly accidentally toxic!Bella? Sorry yall 

Word Count: 1.3k

they/them pronouns used for Bella :)

Note- i wrote this instead of my research paper teehee

bella ramsey masterlist

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Your blood ran cold, and it felt as though they had grabbed your heart from its rightful place in your chest, squeezed it until it was empty, and then handed it back to you. 

The two of you were standing in your shared apartment when they told you they wanted to break up. Tears filled Bella’s eyes as they explained that they needed to work on their mental health. You stared past them and at the wall behind them as they spoke, knowing if you looked at them you would fall to the ground hysterically sobbing, “Okay.” 

The tears finally escaped, and you were quick to wipe them away with your sleeve, “I’m going to grab a few things, and go to Jamie’s. I’ll be back sometime to get the rest of my stuff.”

 You gave them a sad smile before heading to the bedroom that the two of you had shared for over a year now. You locked the door behind you before sitting against it, hysterically sobbing. Bella swears their heart breaks at the sounds of your sobs, wanting nothing more than to rush to your side and comfort you. But they know they can’t, and that they’re the reason for your tears. 

Bella was sitting on the couch when you walked out of the bedroom twenty minutes later, eyes and face puffy from crying. You would laugh to Jamie later about how dramatic the mascara running down your cheeks was, but it only broke Bella’s heart more. This was their fault. 

“I’ll text you before I come to grab my things.” You said, looking at the ground. 

At first it was hard for you to talk to Bella, and you had to distance yourself. It didn’t make you stop loving them, but it made it easier for you to push the feelings down. You came to the conclusion that you would probably love them until you died, but at some point the two of you began talking like normal again. 

It had been a few weeks before you saw them in person again, they came to the apartment that you shared with Jamie. They looked slightly disheveled and like they hadn’t slept in days. 

 “Hey Bells, what’s up?” 

“I just want to talk.” They start, moving further inside. 

“Okay, then let's talk.” You move to the kitchen to grab a cup of water, offering them one as well. 

“I’ve been thinking about this for a few weeks now, and I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am for what I did, that was really shitty of me. I should have just talked to you, and worked things out with you instead of shutting you out and hurting you the way I did. And I understand completely if you can never forgive me, but I just wanted to get it off my chest.” Tears form in Bella’s eyes and they wipe them away before they can fall. 

“Bella, it’s okay. I understand, we all make stupid decisions. But it’s okay, really. No hard feelings.” You lie through your teeth, it was not all okay. You weren’t mad at them, truly you weren’t. But you were trying to heal and now all of those wounds have burst back open.

“Are you sure?” They weren’t fully sure that they believed you, but they wanted to so bad that they let the words feel like the whole truth. 

You give them your best fake smile, “Of course Bells, I could never stay mad at you.” 

But that had been nearly two months ago, and the wounds wouldn’t heal, they were always around you. Hugging you, holding your hands, putting an arm around you on the couch and pulling you closer. 

You let yourself bask in those moments, and then you would cry yourself to sleep that night. You wanted to tell Bella to fuck off, and to stop playing with your emotions like that. 

You had been sitting on the couch in the apartment you used to share with Bella, they were having a small gathering with friends. And to no surprise, Bella was sitting right next to you, their arm around your shoulders as they laughed with the group of friends. 

You blamed your next actions on the fact that you had been drinking, maybe more than you should have, but you were trying to ignore the ache in your chest. It still felt as though Bella held your heart in their beautiful hands and crushed it whenever they felt like it. 

The emotions were suffocating, and you were drowning in your own thoughts. And the alcohol was enough to break the dam, so you lashed out. 

“Why do you do this?” You suddenly ask, turning to Bella who had pulled you even closer. 

“Do what?” They asked, confused by your question. 

You shoved yourself off of them, “This! You’re so touchy feely, you text me at three in the morning about all of your thoughts. You invite me out to dinner only for it to just be the two of us, you remember everything I’ve ever told you.”

You can feel your face heat up and tears fill your eyes, but choose to ignore them, “You look at me with those beautiful brown eyes and say stupid shit you don’t mean like ‘I love you’. No Bella, you don’t fucking love me. You broke up with me, remember? You told me that you couldn’t handle a relationship right now, but what the fuck is going on here? Because everyone, including me, is confused about what is going on between the two of us. Do you just want all of the conveniences of a relationship without the label? The commitment? Well fuck that Bella, and fuck you too.” 

“I’m sick of the way you have ruined my life, and I’m even more sick of the way I want you more than anything in this whole world. I hate you, and I hate the way I love you.” You finish your rant, unaware if any of it was coherent. 

All you know is that Bella was too shocked at your outburst to respond. 

“Jamie, can we leave please?” You ask, getting up from the couch. 

You hadn’t spoken to Bella in almost a week, not since your outburst. They had texted you, and left a few voice mails. At first they were confused, then they were angry at you for acting that way. But finally they were heartbroken, it had taken you yelling at them for it to get into their thick skull that they had been awful to you, but they still wanted you. 

You on the other hand were thinking about how fucking embarassed you were, you still coulndt’ believe the way you acted. You had screamed at them, and definitely ruined the little relationship you had left. 

You were broken from your thoughts when you heard someone knocking on your door, for a moment you wondered if it was Jamie but she said she wasn’t going to be back until the morning. Cautiously you made your way to the front door, looking out the peephole, only to see Bella standing there, soaked in water from the rain. You quickly unlocked and opened the door.

“I’m so sorry for the way I screamed at you-” You had started before they cut you off by holding your face with their hands cold from the rain. 

“No, Y/n I’m sorry. I have fucked you over more than once now, I apologised and I just expected you to just forgive everything. I just assumed that it was okay, and it could go back to the way it was. But I was wrong, but you were wrong too.” Their words took you by surprise. 

“Huh?” 

“I do love you, Y/n. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone else. And I want you, I want you in every sense of the word. Please, give me another chance. I’ll right all of my wrongs. I promise you. I love you, and can’t lose you again.” Bella says, resting their forehead against yours. 

“Okay, but I’m serious Bella. I will kick you to the curb, maybe literally.” You joke and they laugh before placing a soft kiss on your lips. 

Maybe everything will be okay after all, and they won’t have to just be a memory.

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thank you for reading lovelies, feedback is greatly appreciated <3

[workingforthewidow]

RJ’s Girl

For the ANON that asked for RJ! I have a second part planned (I know the ending seems rushed but there is another part!) Enjoy

In all the summers (Y/N) had lived in Texas it had never rained this hard for this long. Usually this time of year there was a drought. But here she was with two flat tires stuck in the mud in the middle of the night. She was convinced the world hated her. Today was truly a ‘one step forward two steps back’ kind of day. She had finally moved out of the shitty apartment she had shared with the ex that had left her four months ago and was on her way to stay with some family. They didn’t know she was coming but hopefully her aunt she hadn’t spoken with in three years would let her in. Her parents would be no help. They were too drunk to even remember they had a daughter.

Her self pity party was interrupted by a sharp knock on her window, she turned and jumped when she saw a large male face in the window.

“Need a tow?” The voice was deep and she wasn’t so frustrated she might try and flirt with him.

YN nodded and opened the door stepping out into the rain, “Yes please. Is there a tire shop around here?”

The man nodded, “Family got a gas station few miles up. I have the truck.”

“Thank you so much. I have cash.” She gave the man the keys and followed his orders to climb in the truck. She didn’t know why but something about the man made her feel safe. Like she knew she was going to be okay.

—

RJ knew that was Otis was going to be pissed at him. Spaulding had already called to say he sent a group out. But in the rain his usual route was flooded out and the detour dropped him right in front of a broke down car. Something in him told him he needed to go see who was in the car. And when he saw the girl in the front seat he knew he wanted her. Otis had found his girl a similar way. RJ deserved a girl too. A pretty girl to warm his bed and satisfy his needs.

“RJ.” He grunted out when he climbed in the truck. The girl looked at him and tilted her head. “My name. Rufus Jr. RJ.”

The girl’s mouth formed a perfect “o” shape, “I’m (Y/N).”

RJ thought that was a pretty name. It fit her.

The truck jerked to turn making her fall into him, “I’m sorry.” (Y/N) said quickly and righted herself back up. RJ wished she hadn’t, she fit right up next to him like the last piece of a puzzle.

Far too soon they reached Spaulding. Quick to think RJ pulled out a knife from his boot and held it up to her. Her eyes went wide and started to water.

“Imma leave you here with my uncle. He’ll watch you till I get back. Then I’m bringing home. Mama’s gonna love you.” He put the knife away when she nodded, too stunned to speak. He climbed out and grabbed her carrying her in over his shoulder. She wasn’t crying yet or screaming.

“Dammit RJ the hell you doing back here and what the fuck you doing carrying a bitch around. That ain’t the ones I sent ya.” Spaulding smacked his hand on the counter but he did appreciate the few of the girl’s ass hanging over RJ’s shoulder.

RJ just grunted again and pushed past Spaulding to the back room and put (Y/N) on the couch, “You gonna stay here and be good?” He held her chin in his big hand making her look him in the eyes.

Her eyes were still huge and shining with tears, “Yes.” It was barely a whisper but he heard it. This made him smile and press his lips to her forehead with a mumbled ‘good kitty’.

He walked back out to the storefront and looked at Spaulding, “Make sure she don’t run. Coming back for her. She’s mine. Try anything funny and uncle or not I’ll gut you.”

Spaulding just laughed and pushed him out the door, “I’m a clown dumbass everything I do is funny. But I guess I’ll watch the thing for ya. Owe me one after this.”

[arcplaysgames]

If the Fortune Arcana is literally a fortune teller, I am going to slash some tires. Especially since, like, the point of the fucking Wheel is that you are not in a position to see where it will turn.

Some journalist I've seen for like five minutes makes a deal with Reverie. She'll give a name of the criminal running the scams in Shibuya but she wants access to someone at Shujin who suffered under Kamoshida's abuse.

Which is a shitty deal, so calling it: Devil arcana.

Morgana suggests Mishima for the deal, so, uh

I hate Mishima but this feels terrible. 8C Come on, he's gonna think it's a date and instead someone is gonna ask him about the volleyball coach beating him. This sucks, Persona 5 Royal!!!! I hate this!

And Ryuji gets accosted by... drag performers??? Or are they just queer people? I am literally looking through my screencaps of this scene and I frankly don't get what it's trying to imply here???? I feel like it's a joke at my people's expense but I'm missing context, so. SHRUG.

Kaneshiro's palace seems to be the entirety of Shibuya's central street. Which made me think they just didn't want to make new assets but I'm proven wrong in a bit.

Seeing people as walking ATMs doesn't make sense to me, like, you withdraw from your own account with ATMs, not from the magical ATM fairy. I don't get this metaphor. Whatev!

TURNS OUT THE ACTUAL PALACE IS A FLYING BANK. Alright. That's sure a thing.

I feel like this was an incredibly valid question. Unfortunately, Morgana cannot turn into non-car things. Which really begs a lot of questions about why he can become specifically a van.

Ryuji when was the last time you were useful, homes, you are the one who got us into this fucking mess with Makoto because you kept screaming about being a Phantom Thief, you absolute dunderfuck. Don't insult Morgana.

Dinnertime at the Nijima Household.

This is a totally inappropriate reaction but I started laughing in disbelief because like. This turn is SO hard and SO sudden and came out of nowhere???? Sae, bruh, what the fuck, are you having a bad day?

OH MY GOD SHE IS LMAO THAT'S HER EXCUSE. And then she says she's going to stop coming home for dinner from now on???? Holy shit?

lmao as the main caretaker of a very frustrating person who drives me batshit, I am judging Sae so fucking hard right now. Remember the halcyon days when we first met Sae? God, I barely remember. Now she's interrogating our card collection and making Dojima look like Parent of the Year.

The Thieves meet up to talk about how to reach the Palace and Makoto just invites herself along again, and Ann happens to call her "useless" and oh my god is this like her trauma trigger?

ATLUS

WHO THE FUCK WAS YOUR SCENE COORDINATOR FOR THIS SEQUENCE

AM I SUPPOSED TO TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY?

YOU JUST FLASHED BACK TO A SCENE THAT LITERALLY JUST HAPPENED 40 SECONDS AGO.

Makoto completely loses her shit and is like "okay fine I will go find you Kaneshiro" and storms off

Gets shoved into the back of an unmarked car by two thugs

Everyone very reasonably flips their shit too and chases after her, including Ryuji throwing himself into the path of a speeding car to make it stop

which: is the most Chariot shit any Chariot has ever Charioted, but also if he got hit doing this, I would have deleted the game in a rage-blackout, i'm so furious with Makoto

and oh she leads them to Kaneshiro! and he immediately snaps a photo of them all for blackmail purposes. he wants 3 million yen in 3 weeks.

HEY YUSUKE?

THANK YOU

Everyone gets a shot of sympathy for Makoto because she's like super sorry that she flipped her shit and ran off and confronted some mafia dudes and got in their car and wound up needing a rescue and then got everyone on the hook for 3 million yen, which is about what I make in a fucking year (roughly)

whatever, they bring her into the Metaverse, she pops her Persona, it's a motorcycle, which is way more fucking cool than she deserves

you know what, same here. same here.

I think I feel comfortable saying, yeah, this is worse than Ryoji. If anyone is hoping I turn on Makoto later, do not hold your breath, because this is a staggeringly bad prolonged introduction to this character. I am to a point I want to sit down with the writers and just ask them to explain to me what impression they intended to leave on the player, taking a character who has thus far only been a stalker and harasser of the protagonists turned outright blackmailer turned into oh now someone else is blackmailing us bc of her? and then handing her off like "here's a new teammate"

what

the actual

fuck

thank you and good night. I'm going to bed.

[velvet-paradox]

Tactile

Fandom: Edward Scissorhands AU

Pairing: Edgar Scissorhands (Timothée Chalamet) x Female reader

Summary: (look friends, I don't even know ok I got an idea and I'm running with it so... without further ado I'm giving you this FREE of charge) In which Edgar Scissorhands (college aged son of Kim and Edward bc I said so) has gotten himself a crush. I was inspired by that commercial from like two years ago.

Length: not too bad; kinda short before we get to the meat of the story

Warnings: eventual friends to lovers, nothing risqué, some strong language.

P.S. I imagine he listens to Artic Monkey's (in general but "Love is a Laserquest" album & acoustic version for sure)

Chapter I

Now I Can't Think of There Without Thinking of You

Edgar Scissorhands envied those with actual bone-in appendages. Not for the reason you would think plausible, let's face it, his were made of metal and jagged shapes; no flesh until the wrist. He was jealous because you could twist and bend them, gnaw on the nailbeds and cuticles when you got nervous or times got tough. If he did that he'd cut up his mouth like a piss poor homage to the late and ever great Heath Ledger. Instead, anxious chewing was lost on him. A shitty replacement was his twitching blades.

He drowned out the sound, custom to his ears but he did feel them open and cut a little faster when you'd walk into class. Always five minutes late. He noticed that right away. It was funny this class, Linguistics. Edgar wasn't known for big conversations, long winded explanations about things he found absolutely fascinating and yet here he was, learning.

Professor Deetz, ruddy faced and of course in one of his wool sweaters gave him quite the look when he gingerly placed book at his desk. Eyeing him and quite possibly picturing the pages torn and ripped to shreds by his hands, a pricy investment lost on a college boy with curly hair sheepish smile.

Edgar was always careful with things, he'd poked his way through plenty of things over the years, he knew to be tender with even the thickest of volumes. He enjoyed books, they were stationary and calm, not the jittering and explosive surrounding that colleges, community or state.

His hazel eyes shot over to you on the opposite side of the rounded classroom, you dropped your keys down the tiled steps. They slipped and rolled, clanged and gathered speed causing Professor Deetz to stop mid sentence, mouth agape and watched them come to a final tumble at his feet. You yelped out a sorry and took off after them. Edgar bit back a smile as you apologized again and again as you ran back up to your seat.

His other classes were just as interesting; Law. International Relations. Theatre Arts. But... the class he shared with you was far more exciting. For the simple fact that you were there. No, you weren't some boisterous sorority recruiter or a cheer captain, you didn't play sports but you went to all the games. Face paints and school sprit, college colors striped overalls or hand painted jackets. You radiated something he hadn't experienced yet and the glass ceiling of his feelings, the stained corners were beginning to show color.

"Hi!"

Edgar jumped at his spot on the bus stop bench when you sat down extremely close. Your knees were touching. And you were smiling and smelled incredible.

"Oh uh, hi." He mumbled, wary of your intentional (maybe, unintentional... he didn't really decipher) eye contact.

"I didn't scare you did I?" 

"A little."

"Sorry about that," you apologized, touching his arm (she's touching me she'stouchingmeshe'stouching--) for a second. "I don't have a sense of timing."

"Is that why you're always late on Tuesdays?" Edgar could've poked himself in the leg for that. He didn't mean it, it just sort of crawled out and sat on his lap.

You laughed. "You noticed, huh? I'm kind of scatterbrained sometimes. I mean I set several alarms and I don't think I've ever been exactly on time for anything," you shrugged, a gust of middle of the road, neither cold or hot breeze wafted your perfume or lotion or whatever it was that clung to you filled his tank a little bit more. "My mom says I'll probably be late for my own funeral. And she's probably right!"

Edgar smiled and nodded. His usual M.O. He wasn't good with small talk. Or big talk. Any kind of one on one interaction was a bit of an Olympic sport.

"Did you read through the rest of the curriculum yet?"

"Not yet."

"There's a two person project for the final," instant panic settled into his marrow. "You wanna' be partners?"

"You wanna' be my partner?" Edgar had never been picked first for anything team related. He was paired with Victor in the fifth grade for a piñata making project though, his name being called first. He supposed that might count.

"Yeah why not? You're a decent guy, right Edgar? And not to sound gossipy but," you moved closer and the tiny little hairs on the back of his neck tickled when you spoke. "Some of the others are kinda' on the clique-y side." 

You wiggled your eyebrows and that made his scalp tingle. He agreed.

"Great! So do you need a ride, partner?"

"Where?"

"Where are you going?"

"Oh. Um I work after class. Tuesday, Thursday and Saturdays."

"Oh yeah? Where at?" You asked. Genuinely asked and he was getting used to looking at you this close up.

"Um the uh Chop, Chop, Go. It's in Jingle Bell Square in Christmas Town."

"I've never been there."

"Oh you should!" Edgar stopped himself, a smile of his own stretching across his face. He hid his mouth out of instinct, shaking a little when you unprovoked and casually grabbed the blades of what would be his last two fingers.

"Then I will. But don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Don't hide your excitement about something. If you like it, you like it. And you have a nice smile." You added, bumping shoulders before standing. He didn't even realize you had a skateboard until the wheels clacked against the cement.

"See ya' around Edgar," you pushed off, steadying yourself before you expertly called back over your shoulder. "Have a good day at work!”

Edgar leaned foreword on the bench watching you skate away, making it across the street before the light changed. He smiled to himself. He was dumbfounded because you’d just asked him if he needed a ride, as in you had a car not a skateboard. He fondly looked down at the bench, only seconds had passed but he already was beginning to miss your company. He put his hand there as if he could feel your heat.

As the bus pulled up, he scanned his bus pass on his hip to the driver and sat down. He watched the bench disappear out of view.

At least he wouldn't have to relive his first day anymore, the way the STOP pully to get off transit snapped under his scissors had the passengers ducking and diving out of the way. The driver was not happy about that.

And just his luck, that same driver was the one to pick him that evening too when his mom had been too late to pick him up. Another one of her meetings gone on too long after his shift had ended.

He didn't mind it then and he didn't mind it now.

He had something to look forward to.

He had a feeling that he wouldn't be able to think of anything other you at the stop now and the foreseeable future.

Edgar did in fact have a good day. He managed not to get yelled at again for constructing a towering salad instead of a plain bowl filling one. It was simple work with his blades, he could get customers in and out at lightning speed. Though the clean up was quite the hassle. You know; scissors for hands and all. Wooden handles weren't the best option.

"You seem in a chipper mood then when you left this morning." His mother Kim announced, tired but still on her feet with a bright smile. Always.

"Good day, I guess."

"You guess?" she laughed, holding up the door open for him and securing his seatbelt before running around the front and getting back into her seat. "Honey you're practically glowing!"

"Like I said," Edgar shrugged with a smirk. "I had a good day."

“Well whatever it is hon, I’m glad it happened to you.” She said after giving his shoulder a tender squeeze then pulled out of the parking lot.

Edgar was too.

Tagging: @synnersaint​

[waiting-on-a-dream]

𝙰𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 (𝙰𝚔𝚊𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗)

"Aka-chan~" Haruto wiggles his hand in front of Akane's face, trying to get her to acknowledge him.

She stubbornly remains silent, keeping her eyes averted away from him. Since yelling at him didn't work last time, she's trying out silent treatment this time.

Haruto laughs. He wonders how long she'll last before she-

Akane slaps his hand away from her face with an irritated scoff.

There it is.

"Done ignoring me?" He smirks.

"Just get on with it," Akane scoffs, still refusing to look at him.

"Did Ichi-kun tell you guys what we talked about yesterday?"

"He was only interested in telling us that you asked him some personal questions," Akane crosses her arms with a scowl. Was she miffed at Ichiro for being so secretive?

Haruto chuckles at the thought. "Don't worry. You'll find out for yourself soon enough. What are your parents like?"

"The fuck does that have to do with anything?"

"I just wanna know your family background, that's all," Haruto tries to smile disarmingly, clasping his fingers together.

"Its none of your damn business," Akane huffs.

"The more you cooperate, the sooner we can wrap this up," Haruto reminds her with a sing-songy voice.

"You're so annoying," Akane snaps. But she relents anyway. "My father was a shitty drunk who did nothing productive all day."

"Doesn't he have a job?"

"No," Akane rolls her eyes. "He lost his old one because of his drinking habit and decided he didn't need to work anymore."

"Then, does your house income from your mom?"

Akane's expression softened slightly. "Nah. She passed away a few years ago. Cancer, I think."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Haruto says (mostly out of obligation).

"Yeah, yeah," Akane's soft expression melts away, replaced with one of annoyance. "I don't need your fake sympathy."

Seems her mom is more of a sensitive topic compared to her dad.

Haruto clears his throat awkwardly. He still needs Akane to talk. "Did you have friends before Milgram? In school maybe?" It didn't seem so in her music video, but he just wants to make sure.

"I befriended a girl at the start of this school year, but she got bored of me quickly. It was the same thing for every friend I've ever made," Akane replied with a frown. "It doesn't help that I get angry so easily."

"And that bothers you?"

Haruto quickly realizes that asking such a question was a mistake.

Akane scowls deeply. "Not at all. I can manage just fine on my own."

"Friends can be fun," Haruto meekly offers his two cents.

"Not if they're always abandoning you," Akane somehow manages to scowl harder. As if she had bitten into a lemon.

And that's it for the topic on friends. "So uh, if the world was to end tomorrow, what would you do?"

"Huh?" Akane seems taken aback by the question. But she quickly recovers. "Oh. I'd reread all volumes of 'A Silent Voice'."

"Why?"

"Its my favourite manga."

"Oh. Okay," Haruto shrugs casually. "Good to know."

He tries to think of another (bonus) question to ask Akane, but his mind is boringly blank. Oh dear. Akane continues to stare at him as the silence drags on.

"Well," he claps his hands together. "That's it for today's interrogation. Thanks for cooperating~!"

Akane only scoffs in reply, her chair scraping against the concrete floor noisily as she gets up. She's out of the room in a heartbeat.

Haruto watches as she leaves and tilts his head. This group of prisoners he finds himself living with is so interesting.

[sinclairss]

akeem47bell​:

As much as Akeem thought Hawkins was… well, whack, everytime he got a call from Cole Montgomery, he was reminded all over again how glad he was to be here and not in LA. He didn’t know what Max was thinking, leaving him with some white dude who did labor law. The fuck did labor have to do with Akeem? He went out of his way not to labor, and Max knew that damn well.

But, well, there was other shit on her mind, obviously, and Akeem had basically decided that she wouldn’t ditch town until that one kid was found, so he decided to do his part. He didn’t really have a flashlight or anything, but he had a lighter, which he brought with him on the trail by the lake. Of course, pulling the lighter out reminded him that it’d been at least two hours since his last hit, and he couldn’t do something as fucked up as look for a missing kid sober, could he?

So Akeem lit up in the woods, puffed on his joint, and held his lighter up as if it was illuminating anything other than his own hands. It was so dark that he didn’t even notice the other until their shoulders brushed, and Akeem let out a breathy laugh. “Oh, shit, you’re that dude!” he exclaimed, clicking his lighter to inspect the man’s face. Yup. It was him– the guy who’d been… weird at the school but then, like, way cooler later. They had to stick together, anyway.

“‘Sup, man, what you doing out here? You need a ride?” Akeem hadn’t seen any other cars in the parking lot… or, at least, he was too distracted trying to stash his stash in the trunk so no fucking kids got too nosy. But anyways, he rocked forwards on his feet toward the dude. “You need a hit?” he offered, before thinking again. “Who are you, by the way?”

.

lover’s lake had been a gate to the upside down years ago, so once he’d started trying the compass trick, it was only a matter of time before lucas ended up there. he’d once again taken his bike. his logic said that luke was too young to drive and he and the rest of the party had gotten pretty much everywhere on their bikes at thirteen, so he was trying to get back in that headspace. besides, it meant he didn’t have to walk the entire trail around the lake. 

still, about halfway around it, lucas had hopped off of his bike in favor of walking along beside it, compass in one hand and his trusty flashlight in the other. he kept his eyes on the needle, but it didn’t spin as he made his way along the shore towards the spot where he’d watched the older kids take off by boat during that fateful spring break. he’d gone to a lot of parties here in high school, too. that log was where tracy tyler told him she loved him for the first time and he’d so eloquently answered with a mumbled thanks, but what he remembered most about this place was being eleven or twelve, skipping stones with his friends, and, later, splitting their first shitty warm beers on the shore. 

he didn’t expect to run into anyone out here and jumped slightly when he did. lucas heard akeem before he felt their shoulders brush, so he swept the beam of his flashlight almost right into his face before realizing he knew the guy. sort of. “shit, sorry.” lucas dropped the flashlight towards the path again and quirked a brow. “could ask you the same thing.” he wasn’t entirely sure about akeem, but he figured it was a better interruption than the useless hawkins p.d. “looking for luke,” he conceded with a sigh. he gestured to his bike. and then he took the joint with a shrug. why not?

he took a hit and passed it back. leaning his palms against the handlebars, lucas said “i’m lucas sinclair.” and then, realizing that probably would mean fuck all to akeem, he added “i knew max when she lived here.” that was an oversimplification, but lucas was never sure how to talk about that time in his life. sure, he could call max his ex, but that seemed so much less than what had happened to them back then. and it wasn’t like he could tell akeem about all of that. so vague it was. “did you ever play d&d when you were a kid?” lucas was skeptical, but it was an easy way to explain it in his mind. “she was part of our party. only she left for a while.” his fingers itched and he held a hand out for the joint to take another puff. maybe it would ease some of the tension in his shoulders. 

“...and who are you, exactly?”

[maximons]

Where Am I?

Chapter Summary: Going from swinging around New York City to waking up in an entirely new reality is a confusing and stressful as it sounds. But Y/n was used to life throwing curveballs, being Spider-Woman and all. But this...was definitely new. Where was she? And how does she get back home?

Word Count: 3,725

Warnings: Mentions of Violence

A/N: Hey guys! Welcome to my new mini series! This takes place after the movie, so here is your official warning: Spoiler Alert for Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness and Spider-Man: No Way Home. In this story, Y/n is based off of Miles Morales. Also, there’s another note under the cut, but it’s a spoiler. Hope you enjoy!

To Find A Home: Series Masterlist

*Okay, so here, MoM ended differently. Wanda still takes down the castle, but doesn’t bury herself inside. Instead, she’s taken back to Kamar Taj and imprisoned.*

Your eyes snapped open as you took in a huge gasp of air. 

You did your best to get a sense of your surroundings, but everything around you was overwhelming your already heighted senses. You tried to slow your panicked breathing as the familiar sounds of New York filled your ears. 

That’s when you noticed you were lying in the middle of 38th street. That’s probably why the honking sounded even louder than normal.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Get out of the road!”

And the shouting.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now!?”

“Take your shitty Spider-Man Cosplay somewhere else! People got actual jobs!”

Wait, what?

That last one got your attention. You sprang to your feet quickly, something the surrounding civilians clearly didn’t expect from you, and scanned the crowd. Your spidey senses picked up on the voice of the person who shouted that last statement.

“Hey, you!” You made a small leap over to the man, who jumped back slightly. “What did you mean by that? Spider-Man Cosplay?”

“Uh...yeah?” The man coughed as he regained his composure, thankful you weren’t coming over to attack him like he originally thought. “You got the pattern right, but Spider-Man’s blue and red, you got a mostly black thing going on.” He explained, and with every word you grew more confused, if not a little annoyed.

“Come on.” You sighed with annoyance. “I know Spider-Man’s been doing this way longer than me, but I’ve been around a while too y’know.”

The man looked at you as if you were crazy. And maybe with the tattered appearance of your suit and the fact that you were literally just lying in the middle of the street gave that thought some justification. “Am I supposed to know who you are?”

You scoffed. “I’m Spider-Woman.” You said like it’s obvious, but no recognition came across the man’s face. There was a small crowd surrounding you now that began whispering, some laughing at your statement.

“What, like his wife?” Someone else asked.

“What? Ew, no!” You rejected immediately. “No, come on, I saved the city like a bunch of times.”

“Yeah, sure you did.” Another voice piped up.

“Uh, yeah, of course I...” You trailed off. This wasn’t just a case of one or two people not following the news, the fact that literally no one around you knew who you were was seriously odd. Something was up. “I...sorry.” You excused yourself, choosing to walk away from the crowd instead of swinging to avoid more confrontation.

You tried to clear your head as you walked, but you couldn’t help but pick up on your surroundings, which made your suspicions grow.

‘I thought they took that building down months ago’

‘Isn’t the Daily Bugle a newspaper?’

‘Tony Stark is dead? Since when?’

Your short walk stopped when you got to Times Square. You looked up at the one of the billboards that was playing the news, and the headline got your attention. ‘Two-Year Anniversary of The Blip.’

“Um, excuse me?” You turned to a bystander. “Can you tell me what that’s about?” You gestured to the billboard, and the guy did a double take before scoffing.

“Yeah, good one.” He said as he stormed off. It was only then when it finally clicked. You didn’t know how, but this wasn’t the New York you knew. You weren’t where you were supposed to be.

So where the hell were you?

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

One Month Later

Peter Parker had dealt with a lot in his life, he should know to expect the unexpected by now. 

So when a night that started as normal Spider-Man patrol was interrupted by someone else in a Spider suit, he shouldn’t have been surprised. But alas, he still was.

“Hey there!” He was mid swing when he heard it. He turned to see someone, a woman, in a suit like his, only it was black with red accents. You shot out a web line, swinging alongside him, but it didn’t last for long as he lost his concentration in shock.

You watched as this world’s Spider-Man let out a yelp and fell thirty stories below before landing on the roof of a shorter building. You chuckled, knowing he was fine, before flipping off your own web line to join him.

“Gotta say you’re a lot more graceful on my world, Pete.” You chuckled. You expected a quip in response but there was only silence as he stared straight at you. “And less serious too.”

“You know who I am?” 

“Yeah, of course I know who you are.” A month ago you would’ve been confused at his statement, but at this point you knew you were an outsider, so you began to explain.  “Peter Parker is pretty much the whole reason I got this Spider-thing under control. You- or he, I guess, has been my mentor and friend for the past five years.” You didn’t get any response back again so you continued. “I’m starting to get the hint that I’m not a thing here.”

“Well...I’m sorry, it’s not just that it’s...” He trailed off with a sigh as he sat on the ledge of the building. You joined him after a few more moments, silently encouraging him to continue. “No one knows who I am...no one’s supposed to.” He said as he took off his mask. Your eyes widened at who was revealed.

He noticed your silence and turned to your, confusion and panic taking over as he saw your reaction. “What, what is it?”

“Sorry, it’s just...you’re a kid.” You said, letting out an breathless chuckle. Peter’s face morphed from confused to offended at what you said.

“I’m 18, that’s an adult.”

“Yeah, well to a 27 year old, that’s very much a kid.” You laughed. “Sorry, it’s just I’m used to my Peter being older. He’s married with a kid on the way and everything so-” You shook your head, stopping yourself. You were getting off track. 

“Anyway, kid or not, you’re still Spider-Man. And right now I need Spider-Man’s help.”

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

After explaining your situation to him, Peter took you back to his small apartment to figure out your next steps. 

After climbing through the window and shutting it behind you, you both hopped down and felt secure enough to take your masks off. Peter went to turn his light on but groaned when nothing happened.

“No, no, no! I paid in advance this month!” He muttered angrily as he flipped the switch repeatedly, hoping that would somehow turn it on. 

You watched his struggle for a moment before surveying the apartment, finding a power outlet fairly quickly. “Here, I got it.” You crouched down, holding your fingertips to it. Peter watched as orange sparks flowed out of your fingers and into the outlet quickly. Before you could even say anything, his lights flickered back on.

“Whoa! I-whoa!” You stood and turned to peter, smiling at his reaction. ”How did you do that- I can’t do that!”

“Yeah, you can’t on my world either. Long story short, something must’ve been different about the spider that bit me, I can do this too.” Before Peter could even ask what, you vanished before his eyes. He looked around in confusion and astonishment.

“Boo!” He heard your voice behind him, causing him to jump in shock. You laughed again as you reappeared.

“That’s insane! Invisibility and electric powers!?”

“Camouflage and Bio-electricity technically, but yep!” You said with a proud smile. “Those were fun to navigate when I first discovered them.”

“I wish I could do that, that’s so cool! I got so many questions, but-”

“Later.” You finished his sentence, agreeing. First things first, you had to hear his plan on helping you before you could geek out with this world’s Peter.

“So I know why and how you got here, like I told you, but I’m not sure why you didn’t go back.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when I told Strange to reverse the spell, that should’ve sent everyone back to their own universes. Everyone who knew I was Spider-Man left this reality and the ones that knew that already lived here...forgot.”

You eyebrows rose at what he said. It clicked for you why he said no one should know who he was. He must’ve made some kind of sacrifice. “Oh...Peter, I’m sorry.”

“No, no don’t be. It had to be done.” Peter waved it off, and you knew better than to push. Peter continued his original thought. “But you were clearly left behind, and Strange doesn’t make mistakes...at least he’s not supposed to.” You both thought for a moment on your next move. You looked back up at each other, and you could tell you were thinking the same thing.

“You know where we can find him?”

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

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“Look, Mr. Wong, we just need to talk to Strange so he can help her.”

“I should’ve known you were going to continue to be a pain in the ass somehow Spider-Man.”

You watched the back and forth between Peter, now masked, and this ‘Wong’ guy in silence. They went at it for a few more moments before you decided you had enough. “Uh, hi!” You interrupted, causing both guys to look at you. “I really don’t want to be a ‘pain in the ass’, I just want to go home.”

Wong looked to Spider-Man for a moment before looking back at you with a sigh. All of a sudden, he spun his arm around. Dark orange sparks circled in mid air, creating a small portal. Wong nodded his head towards it, indicating you two get in it. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

You looked into the portal, seeing what could only be described as ancient temple grounds on the other side, with people who were dressed exactly like this Wong guy going about their business. You turned to him, wishing he could see your raised eyebrow under your mask. “What’s that supposed to be?”

“Your only shot of going home. Strange is in Kamar Taj right now, and it’s a good thing he is because any resources you could use are also there.” 

You turned to Peter. “I’m just supposed to believe this guy?”

“Yeah!” He answered immediately. “Wong and Strange are the best at this kind of thing.”

“Aren’t they the reason I’m here in the first place?” 

Peter paused. “Well, I-”

“No, Strange is.” Wong interrupted. “I remember precisely saying to leave me out of it. And this” He gestured to you and the portal. “Is not leaving me out of it.” With that, he shook his head and took a step into the portal, turning back to you two after stepping through.

“But, of course, I’m in it. So let’s get this sorted out.”

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

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Oh, hey, two for two.” 

Strange gave you a once over at your response to his comment. He let out a humorless chuckle before turning to Peter, who stood in silence beside you. “What did you do this time, Spider-Man?”

As someone who was used to working alongside your world’s Spider-Man, and as someone used to wearing the mask yourself, you knew how to read expressions without the help of facial features. The way Peter’s body stiffened slightly along with the dip of his head told you a million words without him having to say any.

The way Strange said ‘Spider-Man’ must’ve hit a nerve. You guessed this was one of the people that had to forget about Peter.

You wonder if they were close.

And you wonder how many others this Peter lost in this way.

But you didn’t wonder anything else for too much longer before deciding to step it. “Uh, sorry, Mr. Strange?”

“It’s Doctor.” The sorcerer said as he turned his attention to you.

“Right.” You muttered. “Doctor Strange, Spider-Man here didn’t do anything. I just kinda...showed up here? And he told me what happened and I should’ve just...popped back home by now” You began to lamely explain your situation, hands flying wildly around while doing so. “But obviously, I didn’t and...” You sighed, trying to collect yourself. “Look, I just wanna get back home. That’s it.”

Strange looked at you for a moment before nodding. “Okay.” He relented. “First things first, I need to know what Earth you’re from. You don’t happen to know do you?”

He watched you tilt your head as one of your masks lenses squinted slightly. “Uhhh”

“Yeah, that’s a no.” He quickly intervened. “I’ll figure it out, but it could take a bit. Could you...?” He raised his hand above his head, gesturing for you to take your mask off. You hesitated briefly before remembering that you had no reason to conceal your identity in this world, so you pulled it off. “Thank you.” He said as he reached over to you, and before you knew it, you felt a quick pinch on your head.

“Ow! Hey!”

“Sorry about that.” The sorcerer halfheartedly apologized as he started messing with the hair he plucked. “I need DNA to get a sense of origin, once I figure out where that is, then we can work on getting you back. For the time being though, make yourself comfortable....” He trailed off, silently asking your name.

“Oh, Y/n. Y/n L/n.”

Strange gave a curt nod at the introduction. “It’s a pleasure Ms. L/n. Anyway, like I said, this could take a bit, so” He turned his attention to the group of people behind you, nodding towards the direction of one in particular. “This is America Chavez. She’ll show you around. I’ll come get you both when I have some answers.” You turned towards where he nodded and saw a young girl, even younger than Peter walking towards you with a smile. You smiled politely and waved back.

“I, uh, should actually get back.” You heard Peter pipe up beside you. “I got...y’know friendly neighborhood stuff to do.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the reasoning. “Good to see some things aren’t different between universes.” You held your hand out, which he took. “Thanks for helping me out.” You smiled.

“Yeah, of course.” He nodded. “I’ll see you around?”

“Once they invent the multiversal phone plan, I’ll tell you all about how my powers work.” Peter laughed at your joke before turning to wave goodbye to Strange, who only gave him a curt nod. 

His head hung slightly in disappointment again before Wong opened a portal back to the Sanctum. You gave him a sympathetic nod, silently telling him he’ll be okay. He nodded back before stepping through.

A moment of silence passed over the room after the portal closed. America looked around at the faces around her and figured she’d have to be the one to speak up.

“So, how about that tour?”

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

“Lost in the multiverse, huh?” The young girl next to you piped up as you walked through the, seemingly neverending, halls of Kamar Taj.

You nodded. “Looks like it.”

“Yeah, been there, done that.” America said as if it was nothing, which caused you to look to her in surprise.

“Really? How?”

“Well, I...” She trailed off, trying to think of what to say. “I- It’s complicated. Basically, I can travel the multiverse, that’s my power.” 

“Whoa!” You exclaimed, genuinely impressed by this. After the initial reaction wore off though, you thought for a moment. Having a power like that sounds like a lot to handle, especially for a kid. “That...actually sounds like a lot.”

“Oh, it is.” You chuckled at how fast America agreed. “Not being able to control it is actually how I ended up lost in the multiverse.”

“Oh...” You said simply, not sure what else to say to that.

“Yeah, but it’s all good now.”

“So, how did you end up getting back home?”

America paused for a moment. “Well...I never did actually.”

You rose you brows at this. If this girl had the power to travel universes at will, why couldn’t she just go back home? Why couldn’t she just get you home for that matter? You figured there was a story there, but you didn’t know the girl well enough to pry into it. Luckily for you though, she continued before you could even utter a word. “But, I have a home here. Home is what you make it, y’know? Found family and all that.”

You gave her a small smile. “You've got to be the most optimistic 13 year old I’ve ever met.”

“Hey, I’m 14! Almost 15, thank you very much.” She exclaimed in mock offence, causing you to laugh and raise your hands in mock surrender. 

“Right, sorry my bad.” You said jokingly as you two continued your walk. “Where to now, your majesty?”

“You’re hilarious.” She waved you off as she looked around, trying to figure out her next move. “I always get lost around here...” She hummed, looking at the different paths in front of her. “Let’s just go this way.” She pointed to the right and started walking, you shrugged and followed her.

“What’s down here?”

“Just more magical artifacts it looks like.”

“So like 95% of this place?”

“Exactly.” She chuckled. “I’ve only been down here a few times though, so I don’t- oh.” She cut herself off as she stopped suddenly. You stopped with her, confused at her actions.

“What’s up?” America didn’t answer you, instead just staring ahead with an indecipherable expression on her face. You looked in the same direction, brows raising at what you saw.

There against the wall was what you could only describe as a makeshift prison cell. There was a translucent yellow wall, which you assume is some kind of magic, and inside looked to be some a bed, a tv, some chairs and a bookshelf. Honestly, if it wasn’t for the way the woman inside looked, you would assume it was just a normal bedroom.

Said woman sat on the edge of the bed, hunched over slightly, staring at the floor, almost burning a hole in it. Her ankles and wrists were all individually cuffed in some kind of mystical braces that looked straight out of the year 1635. She was dressed similarly to the other sorcerers you’ve seen around Kamar Taj, but you got the feeling she wasn’t among them.

You figured she sense your presence as she sat up slightly and turned her head. America kept staring at her as the woman’s face shifted slightly. Her face went from being blank to...shyness almost? Guilt? You couldn’t tell. She raised an arm and gave the girl a small wave, one that was only reciprocated with a small nod. The woman’s eyes then moved towards you and you froze as your eyes locked.

The woman’s wave paused in midair, her eyes started to scan you. You were new here, dressed similarly to what she remembered Spider-Man to dress like, but she’s never met you before. Who were you? And more importantly, what were you doing here? Were you here for her? Were you a new Avenger that the government sent over to come collect her? Would make sense. The Avengers that she knew, the ones still alive or in this time anyway, were probably too ashamed and disgusted to even want to look at her.

You couldn’t even begin to form your own thoughts as you felt America’s hand wrap around your wrist, taking you away and leading you back towards the direction you came from. After walking for a minute, you spoke up. “Who was that?”

“That’s Wanda. Otherwise known as The Scarlet Witch.”

Your face snapped from awe to utter disbelief. “The who what?”

America chuckled at your reaction. “I’m guessing you don’t have her where you’re from.”

“Not that I know of, no.” As you continued walking, you glanced back towards where the woman- Wanda was being held. “Why is she down here in a cell?”

America let out a harsh breath at that. “Between attacking Kamar Taj and killing a bunch of sorcerers, trying to kill me to steal my power to travel the multiverse to be with her kids that never existed here, and dreamwalking to another reality and killing a bunch of their superheroes, take your pick.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. You definitely weren’t expecting all that. You glanced back again. “Oh. Uh... her?” The woman in that cell looked harmless, it was surprising to think she was capable of all that. But, you guess looks could be deceiving.

“Yeah. She’s dangerous.”

“That’s putting it lightly.”

“But...it’s not as simple as ‘she’s an evil murderer’. She wasn’t entirely herself. Again, complicated.”

“Huh.” Was all you could think of to say. This place was weird you officially decided.

You shook your head as you continued forward. You only got a few more steps in before you felt that familiar tingle go off. Your Spider Sense.

You put stopped and put an arm in front of America, causing her to stop as well. Before she could ask what was going on, a figure suddenly appeared in front of you.

America faltered slightly, but just sighed in annoyance. This apparently wasn’t the first time Strange did something like this to here. After it moment, it clicked for her that you must’ve sensed that coming. “Whoa, how did you-”

You cut her off with a simple smirk and point to the head, giving no further explanation. You turned to the sorcerer in front of you, who looked a lot different than what you remembered him to be. Before he seemed cocky and arrogant, but now he seemed almost worried. Dare you say sad.

“Everything okay?” You asked. He turned to you and simply stared for a moment before taking a breath, preparing himself.

You already knew this couldn’t be good.

“Y/n...” He started, trying to collect himself. “I’m sorry, but there’s no easy way to say this.”

Now you’ve dealt with a lot in your life, between the death of your father to radioactive spider bites, to evil relatives and friends that tried to kill you, you thought that at this point you could handle anything. Boy were you wrong.

“Your home, Earth 1610, was caught in an incursion. Which, to put it simply...it was destroyed. It no longer exists.”

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter 13: Happy Endings...

Raining Hellfire: Season One | Season Two

Raining Hellfire: Season Two [Finale]

Word Count: 6710 words

Warnings: swearing, lots of fluff, mentions of adoption, slight mention of death, visions, I tried my best to make it a happy one okay

[A/N: This is the last chapter for Season Two and wow I didn't think this many of you would love my story. Thank you all for reading and keeping up with me. I know we've come so far from an Eddie x Reader story but I really wanted to give the reader more of a role in the episodes than just pining over eddie all the time. Anyways, please enjoy and read til the end for an announcement :)]

Happy Endings...

One month later…

December was easily your favourite time of year. Something about the buzz of Christmas and how the cold felt right just made you happy. It was almost peaceful.

After a long day of shopping for outfits and presents, you make your way home so you could start getting ready. You had volunteered for the Snow Ball at the middle school a while ago with Nancy, both promising over the summer that it would be fun just to sit and chat in nice clothing. It hurt a little to know that promise meant nothing now.

You would both be there, especially since you’re too polite to cancel on the school, yet you will probably end up in different corners of the room to just exchange small smiles once in a while. At least the kids would be there. Dustin was over-excited to find out you would be attending.

Letting the door swing open, you struggled with the bags as you tread fallen snow through the hallway. With a sigh, you drop the shopping and kick off your shoes. You may have gone overboard on Christmas presents this year. But, after the month you had, you figured everyone would need some kind of cheer.

You lazily flicked on the light to the living room, removing the scarf from your neck before you saw something shift in the corner of your eye. You glance over and find a figure sat in an armchair, just staring at you.

You screamed.

“Hey! Woah, calm down. It’s me!”

In the time it took them to stand up and walk closer into view, you had reached around the corner to grab your trusted bat, bringing it up in front of you.

“Talk about deja-vu.” He laughed and your eyes widened.

You didn’t lower the bat. Billy was in your house. Billy was in your house. How did he-

He holds both his hands up in surrender, a familiar set of keys dangling from his fingers as he slowly sets them on a table. You had completely forgotten about the Halloween party, how he had swiped your keys.

In all fairness, you had a lot to worry about that didn’t include shitty exes.

“I’m just here to talk.” He glances in your general direction and lowers his arms, shoulders slumped. He almost looked… scared.

“What do you want?” You practically spat the words at him.

The last time you saw him was the night he tried to attack Lucas, the night he actually attacked you and Steve. If Max hadn’t stopped him, he would have killed your best friend. You did return his car, but you didn’t stay long enough to even see him.

“To…” He takes a breath, finally bringing himself to look you in the eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Once he says it, it’s like a dam was burst in his mind, allowing his true thoughts to finally escape.

“I’m sorry for everything, Y/n. I… I don’t even have any excuses anymore. Everything went to shit. Everything and… I don’t know what happened to me.”

You lower the bat and prop it against the wall within reaching distance.

“You realise an apology won’t change anything, right?” You risk a step closer, “You hurt a lot of people, Billy. Innocent kids. Hell, if I weren’t there- if Steve wasn’t there, then you would have hurt Lucas-”

“But I-” He tries but he’s not the only one in need of closure.

“And Steve, oh my god, you almost killed him. I- I don’t even know why I’m talking to you right now.” You raise your arms in exasperation, moving to walk away and yell at him to leave.

“I know.” He follows you into the hallway, practically begging. It was more than unusual for him. “I know and I hate myself for it.”

That took you by surprise. You stop, turning back to look at the boy stood just outside of the living room.

“Then why?” You shake your head, trying to process the fact that Billy Hargrove was apologising to you. “What the hell happened to you?”

He stays silent, avoiding your eyes yet again.

Billy used to be the sweetest boy you knew, even with an abusive father. But you knew that was because of his mother. They had a bond that could never be broken. That was until she left.

“Billy…” You try, crossing your arms across your torso for comfort.

“You left.” He whispered, staring at the photo on the desk next to him; it was one of you as a child, sitting with your aunt when she had visited once. “I thought… I thought you just left. I thought it was my fault.”

You try to respond but nothing seems to leave your lips. He takes your silence as his cue to continue.

“I deserve it. All of it. I was an asshole. I treated you like shit and you never did anything wrong. It was never- But… Lillian died. You had fought her and that’s- that’s when I realised.” He looks up to you, eyes foggy, “I did that.”

“No, you-” As much as you hated Billy, you weren’t letting him take the fall for something you did. You weren’t that kind of person.

“You were always so kind, so patient and… I took my anger out on you. Because it was easy.” He stepped closer, shaking his head as all the pieces in his mind fell together, “And then you did the same to your best friend. Don’t you see, Y/n? It’s an endless fucking cycle of pain and misery all because my dad wasn’t given enough fucking attention.”

At this point, you had nothing to say. You just stared, speechless.

“When you left, before I could explain anything… it felt like any hope I had for redemption was ripped out of my body. You were the only person in California I gave a shit about. And I ruined it. Just like I’m ruining it now.”

“What are you talking about?” You ask before realising as soon as the words left your mouth, “Max.”

“I never had a sibling before.” He shrugs, shaking his head.

“You can’t treat her the way you treated me.” You blurt and he whips his head up to you, “She won’t be your personal punching bag.”

“I never wanted to-”

“I know. I know you never wanted to, but you did. You did hurt me, even when we were friends. And I let you. Because I met Neil and I saw how he manipulated you, poisoned your mind and for that, he will always be my enemy. But you can’t use that as an excuse-”

“That’s just how any kid in that position would react! There is no way around that!” He yells but you won’t be intimidated.

“No.” You say, determined fire in your eyes, “No. Shitty fathers are around much more than you think. Abusive ones… just look at Jonathan Byers. You may not see him the way I do, the way all of his friends do, but have you ever stopped to think that he was in the exact same position as you? You both broke from the pressure, had to deal with a father-figure that only wanted to tear you down. But the one difference? Jonathan used that pain to protect his friends, to become the person he wanted to be. Don’t ever tell me that there isn’t a choice in any of this!”

“What do you want from me, Y/n? To be like Byers?”

“I just… I just wanted you to talk to me, Billy! That’s all. Maybe if you did…”

“Nothing would have changed.” He says with so much certainty that you stepped back in surprise. “That party would have still happened. You would have still moved away. Nothing between us would have changed. We wouldn’t be together.”

“You don’t know that.” You sigh.

“You looked happy.” Billy smiles sadly, hands in pockets. “Getting here and seeing you with that freak-”

“Eddie.” You cross your arms. You’d be damned if you’d let anyone call him that around you. “His name is Eddie.”

“Yeah, Eddie. I, uh… I hated it.” He chuckled lowly, “I hated that you were happy when I was more miserable than ever. I blamed you for everything.”

“Why?”

“I thought you ran away. Left everyone without a care. Max tried to tell me the truth and I didn’t listen. Didn’t want to, I guess.” He leans against the wall, nodding. “I get it now.”

“Good.” You cross your arms, staring at the floor, “I never wanted to leave. Not at the time but now… I know that part of me was glad to leave it all behind.”

“You should be.” He muttered before looking at you, “That night… Lillian-”

You shake your head, cutting off his words. You didn’t need the reminder. “I don’t-”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

You look up with confusion.

“I’m not a narc.” Billy shrugs, “Whatever I saw that night… It’s not important anymore. Everyone was drunk and mad at eachother. Stuff like that just happens.”

“What did happen?” You furrow your brows. You knew what happened, at least with the before and after. But you still couldn’t remember the actual fight itself, how she even ended up in the pool…

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He smirks, thinking it’s a test, and he heads to the door, careful to keep his distance from you.

“Billy. Wait…” You follow him out the door and he stops before the last step off the porch. You had too many burning questions so you settled for one he could actually answer.

“What happened when I left California?”

The question hung in the air before Billy stepped off the porch and turned to you one last time, smiling thinly.

“I had no reason to care anymore.”

And with that, he continues walking away, leaving you on your porch to process what just happened.

Despite your last visit to the Hargrove-Mayfield home, you forced yourself to ring the doorbell, gritting your teeth once Neil greets you.

“Hello, Y/n. Lovely to see you again.” He smiles. Oh, how you wished you could rip that moustache off his face and feed it to him.

“I’m here to help Max get ready for the dance.” You force a sweet smile onto your face, sighing relief when he points you in the right direction and leaves you to it, clearly not interested.

You find Max in the bathroom, Susan stood above her as she twists her ginger locks into a bun. Max looks as if she is about to throw up any moment as she stares at her reflection.

“Oh, Y/n. Good, you’re here.” Susan comments as if you were just some required visitor. Max rolled her eyes.

“Hey, Y/n. Mom, you can go now.” She turned to face her, eyes wide and practically begging her to leave.

“Okay, okay. You girls have fun.” Susan smiles, walking past you.

Usually, you’d be more than happy for her to leave you alone. But curiosity got the better of you.

“Actually-” You stop her in her tracks and you glance back to Max. “I’ll be right back.”

Your sister gave you a confused nod and continued to fiddle with her hair in the mirror.

“Did you need something, sweetheart?” Susan asked, almost as if the last conversation between you never happened.

You knew you wouldn’t have her attention for very long, so you jumped straight into it.

“Am I adopted?”

The silence was the only answer you needed as your mother stared at you. It took a while before she found the words to speak.

“Yes.” She sighed, relaxing her shoulders.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You question, fiddling with the bottom of your dress. It was the first dress you had worn since last year’s funeral and it felt nice. Only because you picked it out yourself.

“Because you are my daughter.” She rests her hands on your shoulders. “Blood doesn’t define family. It never did. Sam and I… we were struggling to have a baby. Our last option was adoption and once I saw your beautiful doe eyes staring up at me… I knew there and then that you would be my daughter.”

“Is Max…” You both speak quietly, aware that Max was in the other room.

“No.” Susan shakes her head, “She was our little miracle.”

You take a breath. You had been pondering that question for quite some time now. And now, to see her finally admit it, you felt relief. Like you could start figuring out who you truly were.

“Do you know-”

“If you’re asking about your birth family…” She shakes her head again, “We didn’t know anything about them. Just that they had dropped you off at the orphanage and then left just as quickly as they arrived.”

Great, you thought, more unanswered questions to keep me awake at night.

“I’m sorry for being such a terrible mother.”

That caught you off-guard. “What? No, you-”

“I know, Y/n.” She smiled sadly, “I wasn’t anything like you deserved. It was… it was a terrible time for me. But I’m trying.”

She looks over to Max. “I’m getting a second chance.”

You thought carefully about your next words. “You’re going to be amazing. You were never a bad mother. You were there for me. That’s all I needed.”

“You’ve always been my independent little girl.” She brushes your hair from your face. “You’ll always be my daughter, Y/n. I never wanted to send you here but I was afraid of what people would do to you.”

“I like it here.” You reassure, smiling the first genuine smile you ever gave her, “I have a family here. And… just so you know… you’re always going to be my mother. That won’t change. But… I like living with Uncle Jack. I feel like… we need eachother more than you and I do.”

“As long as you’re safe.”

She kisses your forehead before disappearing to the kitchen. She left you with more clarity than you were expecting.

You make your way back to Max, chuckling as you watch her furiously taking down the bun your mother had insisted on.

“Help me.” She deadpanned when she saw you stood there and you nodded, still smiling.

You swiftly plait part of her hair, bringing it back so the hair was out of her face. She frowned.

“What?” You ask as she points to the hair you currently clipped back. “Oh, I thought you’d want Lucas to see your face when you dance together.”

Her face twisted and you laughed again.

“Ew. No. No, that’s not-” Max keeps shaking her head, “No.”

“You sound so sure.” You smirk, resting your head on her shoulder and looked at her through the mirror. “It’s okay to like someone, Max. Even if it’s someone you’d never expect.”

“Like you and Steve?” She raises her brow and you laugh at the comment. Usually you’d react in disgust. You didn’t know why that wasn’t the case this time.

“He’s my best friend.” You shrug.

“Right.” Max nods, pursing her lips. “Now look who’s in denial.”

“Okay, Madmax. Do you want any makeup?” You change the subject, pointing to the makeup bag at the sink.

“Uh…” She looks up at you, expecting a mocking look. But, instead, you smile, patiently waiting her answer. “Maybe? Won’t that be too… girly?”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” You say, reaching for the bag to pull out the mascara. “You can still skate when wearing makeup. I don’t think you have to define yourself to one thing. Like you can be both girly and a tomboy. I guess it just depends on how you feel at the end of the day.”

She hums in response, opening her eyes and you lightly brush some mascara on her.

“Okay, look.” You turn her to the mirror and she flutters her eyes.

“Cool.” She shrugs, a soft smile on her lips. “I’m glad you’re back. I know I keep saying that but… I kept your promise.”

You instantly smile, remembering the last words you spoke to eachother before you left. “Really?”

“I never gave up.” She looks at you with her blue eyes, holding your hand.

You grip her hand tighter. “I gave them hell.”

Footsteps approach and you see Susan walking with Billy before parting ways. Billy stops just outside of the bathroom, looking in. Max simply glares at him before turning back to the mirror. His eyes shift to you and you offer a soft smile. He faintly nods before walking away.

“It must be hard for him this time of year.” Susan comments, shaking her head as she moves aside for Max to grab her coat and head to the door.

“What do you mean?” You ask, grabbing your bag.

She looks to you in confusion, assuming you already knew. You shrug and start to walk away before she finally replies.

“His mother died last December.”

Your uncle had let you borrow his car for the evening. You had both had dinner together as a family the previous night and for once, it felt normal. Usually you’d be too stressed to pay attention and your uncle would still be recovering from a hangover with a beer in his hand. But lately, you’ve both had a breath of fresh air.

You were doing better, taking each day as it came as you reconnected with your sister and rekindled the friendship between you and Steve. Your uncle was 4 days sober, doing his absolute best to be a good parental figure for you and to finally get his life back on track. You both struggled in your own ways but it was worth it.

“Do I look stupid?” Max asked, fiddling with her clothes. “Should I be wearing a dress or-”

“You look amazing. Don't even try to deny it.” You turn off the engine and move to face her. “Ready to go in?”

She glances toward the entrance, frowning. “Yeah. I think I am.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

You both step out of the car and you lock it before snapping the keys shut into your purse and pushing the hair out of your face. Since Billy visited, you hadn’t had time to take care of your hair so it fell loose around your face. You didn’t mind.

“Is that…” Max peered over to the entrance and you followed her gaze. Outside the entrance, a car had pulled up. One you were pretty familiar with.

Dustin stepped out and made his way into the school. Max starts walking and you tap her shoulder, still looking to the car.

“Hey, I’ll see you in there?” You ask and she nods, sending a knowing look.

You make your way over to the vehicle, walking around to the passenger side since you didn’t bring a coat and the cold air was attacking your skin.

As you open the door and slide in, you hear a little yelp from the driver’s seat, making you laugh.

“That’s so not funny.” Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair and glancing back to where he had been looking before you scared him. You notice why he’s staring, smiling softly.

“She looks pretty tonight.” You comment, noticing Nancy stood just in view of the doorway. She really did look pretty.

“Yeah, she does.” He nods, turning back to you.

For a moment, he just stops. Stops moving, stops breathing. You furrow your brows, whipping your head to look behind you. But he was looking at you.

“You good there, Steve?” You laugh, as confused as ever.

“I.. uh…” He stammers before clearing his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m… yeah.”

You shake your head in bemusement before catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You had completely forgotten about the outfit, the makeup. You looked… nice?

It was definitely something different that you tried. But the emerald dress was calling your name earlier that morning and you couldn’t resist dressing up. After all, you didn’t get a Winter Formal dance.

“I didn’t, uh, realise you were…” Steve waves his hand toward the school, struggling to keep his eyes off your outfit. He most definitely wasn’t used to this.

“Volunteering?” You offer with a soft laugh. “Yeah, me and Nancy signed up a while ago. I was meant to go with her but… you know.”

“Maybe it won’t be that bad.” He suggests but the look on your face disagrees. “Okay, so maybe it will be completely awkward but, I don’t know, isn’t there someone else you can hang out with in there?”

“No.” You sigh, slumping into the car seat, “It’s Saturday night so I’m all by myself because everyone’s busy and-”

You practically squeal as an idea pops into your mind. Steve jumps a little at your sudden outburst, eyes wide.

“Are you having a stroke? Do you smell burning toast?” He questions, leaning away from you in confused fear.

“What? No.” You say as you lean towards him. You’re too invested in your own idea to notice the way his breath hitches. “You. You don’t have any Saturday night plans.”

“Excuse me, how would you know that?” He objects your accusations, shaking his head.

You relax your face, looking to him expressionless, “You literally just dropped off a child to a middle school dance.”

“Okay, okay.” He surrenders, palms raised. “And please don’t say it like that, it sounds creepy.”

“I’m not the one driving around with a 13 year old-”

Steve’s hand suddenly clamps around your mouth and you giggle, causing him to laugh along with you and retreat his hand.

“Get to the point, tinkerbell.” He finally says, resting his arm on the wheel.

“Tinkerbell?” You question and he shrugs. You weirdly like the nickname. “Anyway, I was thinking that since I’ll be all alone in that dance and you have literally zero plans-”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“What, why not?” You pout and his face twists as he tries to resist.

“No, Y/n. Don’t do this to me. Not that face. I’m not going to chaperone a stupid little school dance just so that you won’t be lonely. It’s your own fault, don’t drag me with you.”

He tries, huffing when you continue pouting and shaking his head profusely, “No. That’s my final answer!”

And just a few minutes later, you walk into the dance, taking in the gym’s decorations that hung neatly from the walls.

“This is nice.” You smile.

“I hate you.” Steve crosses his arms, scouting the sea of middle schooler’s before finding the buffet station you were meant to oversee. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Nah, you love this really.” You smirk, setting your purse onto the chair as he leant against the wall.

“I’m not even dressed for the occasion.” He mocks, pulling at his red jumper.

“You look handsome, I don’t think anyone will notice.” You say without any thought, sorting out the paper plates into even piles.

When Steve didn’t reply, you turned around just in time to watch him shift his eyes away from you, pretending to be invested in the hanging snowflakes.

“It really is nice in here.” You shuffle over to him, leaning against the wall so that your shoulders brushed eachother. “I was kind of expecting just a banner and some bunting.”

“Seriously? The schools always go all out for this kind of stuff.” Steve looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I guess California does it differently.” You sigh, looking out to see your sister talking to the Party. They all look very smart, dressed up in their suits.

“You didn’t get a formal?” He questions and you hum, focused elsewhere.

“I didn’t get the chance.” You say as your eyes drift over to where Nancy stood.

She was chatting away with Jonathan, the smile on her face brighter than you’d ever seen. You were happy for her. It’s hard to find someone that was truly made for you. Seeing them together was nice until the pang of guilt beat against your chest.

You look to Steve with a grim face but were surprised to see him smiling in their direction.

“I didn’t expect you to be this okay about it.” You confess softly and he chuckles.

“Nancy and I ended ages ago. We just didn’t know it.”

“I’m sorry.” You say and he furrows his brows, “If I had any part in tearing you and Nancy apart, I never meant to-”

“Woah, woah, no. You didn’t do anything.” He shakes his head, pushing off from the wall to stand in front of you. You never expected him to be tall for some reason. “Actually, the only thing you did was give us some clarity. Hell, if you weren’t there, I would never have actually realised what an asshole I was.”

“You were a bit of an asshole.” You laugh when he pretends to be offended.

“Wait.” He looks back to the couple across the room, pointing an accusing finger at you, “Jonathan’s here.”

“Yes, I do believe the guy holding the camera is Jonathan Byers.” You shake your head at him.

“So why did you tell me you wouldn’t have anyone else here to talk to?”

“I wanted to see if I could actually convince you to chaperone a middle school dance.” You smirk, nudging his shoulder. “Turns out the pout still works.”

“Cruel. You are cruel.” He says, unable to hide the smile in his face. “And that pout never worked on me.”

“Liar.” You accuse with a breathy laugh. He starts to object but you cut him off. “I seem to remember it working every single time, actually.”

“Oh, really? Name one time.” He waved his hand, waiting. You stand and ponder for a minute. “See? I told you, it’s never-”

“You snuck into the cinema with me when I didn’t want to go alone, you ended up joining an art class you hated to keep me company, you drove me wherever I wanted and I even convinced you to wear matching jumpers that one time.” You take a breath, looking at him, “Shall I go on?”

“So it worked a couple of times.” He winced and you smile. “They were pretty fun times.”

“God, you make it sound like we’re so old.” You shudder, leaning against the table.

“We are so old, though.” He sighed, rubbing his face, “We graduate soon, that’s scary.”

“Oh god, don’t remind me.” You grimace, “Doubt I’ll even graduate.”

“Like hell you won’t.” He snorts before noticing the stress on your face, “Hey, you’re going to graduate.”

“I’ve missed so many classes, I- I’ve spent the majority of my time fighting off monsters that shouldn’t even exist and when I don’t, I just distract myself because none of that shit ever leaves me-”

You stop your rant, fully aware that if you went on, you’d be admitting to your visions. Steve already went through a lot this year, you weren’t about to shove all of your problems onto him.

“I get it.” Steve smiles sadly and you look back up to him. He had walked over to the table, scanning the food.

“You do?”

“Yeah. I mean, I can’t imagine all the shit you went through last year. I wasn’t there until the very end but…” He takes a breath, forcing his eyes to meet yours, “When I finally found out what happened to Barb. I just- I can’t imagine being home anymore. I mean, I hated it there before but now it’s just… someone died in my backyard.”

Your breath hitches and you instinctively grab his hand, squeezing it.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Maybe…” You purse your lips, trying to think of any solution, “Maybe you can stay over tonight? Jack’s working until the morning again and I don’t particularly want to be alone. Especially after today.”

You laugh faintly at the last part but Steve frowns.

“What happened today?”

You whip your head up. Fuck. “Uh, nothing. I just… I’m just not feeling like staying in my house all by myself.”

Steve squeezes your hand and you realise you had forgotten you were holding his.

“Anyway… we could have a movie night? Just like old times.” You suggest and his eyes light up.

“I would love that.”

You smile before something catches your eye. The song choices had slowed down which meant slow dancing was covering the gym floor. You notice Max and Lucas together and you smile a little. Your eyes drift to El and Mike and then to Will with a girl you didn’t know. You searched for Dustin and his mystery date when you see him sat on the bleachers, head down.

“Oh no.” You mutter and Steve looks in that direction, breath hitching. “Should I-”

Before you could say anything, Nancy crosses the room, offering a hand to Dustin. You couldn’t stop the grin spreading across your face.

“Never mind.” You smile proudly as you watch Nancy pull Dustin to the dance floor. Even with all the hate and the tears, you could never be truly upset with Nancy Wheeler.

Steve clears his throat and you turn, not expecting his hand to be held out to you with a soft smile.

“Care to dance?”

You couldn’t stop the giddy smile on your face as you took his hand. “Would be my pleasure.”

‘Every Breath You Take’ echoed, bouncing of the walls as you swayed to the music with none other than Steve Harrington. The boy you first met when you caught his basketball after throwing a terrible shot, quickly sparking a friendship. The friend who always made you laugh, causing small little butterflies in your stomach whenever his skin brushed against yours. The jock who dumped you for Tommy and Carol when they had claimed you were ‘toxic material’, leaving you with nothing but tears. The guy who saved your life, making you question your hatred. The best friend who did everything in his power to make up lost years.

You were dancing with Steve Harrington and you were happy.

Your arms rested comfortably around his neck as his hands lay gently around your waist, allowing you to move with eachother as the song played. You smiled into his shoulder just as you turned to face the exit doors, something through the glass catching your eye. A flash of dark leather jacket and wild hair. Your breath hitched.

You pulled away from Steve just as the song came to a close and he smiled down to you.

“Do you want something to drink?” He asks you while you still glance at the door.

“Huh?” You shift your gaze to his, ignoring the flutter in your stomach. “Oh, yeah. Please. I, uh… I need to get some air but I’ll meet you back at the table?”

“Sure.” He walks away without much argument and you sigh, heading over to the other side of the gym.

Pushing open the door, you step out into the cold air, breeze hitting your bare skin. It would have caused a reaction if you weren’t still so flushed from the dance.

Eyeing the reason you wanted to come outside, you step down, tilting your head and willing the word to leave your mouth.

“Eddie?”

He quickly spun around despite how quiet your voice was. The music from the gym was blaring behind you as you took another step.

“H-hey.” He smiles, glancing down at your outfit before meeting your eyes again.

“Hi.” You breathe, your chest tightening as you realise how much you missed seeing the dimples in his face. “What, uh… what are you doing here?”

Eddie watched as you gestured to the building before letting out a cough, bringing himself back to focus. “Right. Yeah, I remembered that you were volunteering so…”

“So?” You wonder out loud, fiddling with your dress.

Wordlessly, he shifts himself to face you fully, bringing his left arm forward to reveal your Walkman. There’s a pang in your chest at the sight of your tape player.

“You left it at mine.” He clears his throat again, extending his arm to bring the object closer to you, “I figured stealing it wouldn’t be very chivalrous of me.”

“Yeah, I heard it’s frowned upon.” You laugh softly, walking closer and gently taking it from his hand, “Thank you. You didn’t have to come all the way out here.”

“I- I wanted to. It’s no big deal.” He shrugged as if he truly meant it. He stared at you a little longer and you wonder why. Was he waiting for something?

“Oh.” You suddenly speak, remembering. He furrows his brows at you. “I… I don’t have your necklace with me right now.”

You notice how his face falls slightly and you worry that you’ve somehow ruined his entire night by not returning the guitar pick.

“No, no, you don’t have to-” He tries but you’re way too deep in panic and guilt to stop talking at 100 miles per hour.

“No, I have it at home. Maybe I can just drive back and-”

“Y/n.”

“It’s not very far anyway, my uncle gave me a car so it won’t take very long-”

“Y/n!” Eddie placed both hands on your shoulders and you snapped your mouth shut. You didn’t even noticed he had closed the distance between you. He let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. “It’s okay. It was a gift, it’s… it’s yours.”

“Are you sure?” Your voice was barely a whisper now, still reeling from the fact that you were staring into his chocolate brown eyes for the first time since you broke up.

“I have the ring you gave me.” He brought his hand down to show the familiar ring on his right hand but you quickly shook your head.

“If there is a single thought in your mind that I don’t want you to have that, then you’re mad.” You declare and he laughed in surprise, stepping away.

“Good. I was kind of getting used to it.” He smirked before his head tilted towards the doors you had pushed through earlier. His eye seemed to have caught something.

You glance back to see Steve talking with Dustin while holding two drinks in his hand. You smiled slightly at the sight. Steve tried his best to look interested but you could tell you needed to save him from one of Dustin’s rants.

“You seem happier.”

Eddie’s words brought you back to him. He lowered his head and you tried your best to smile.

“I suppose so.” You shrug, wrapping your arms around your torso for warmth since the cold was finally hitting you. “I guess I am. I finally got to reconnect with my best friend.”

He chuckles softly at your confession, looking back up to you as he scuffed his trainer against the concrete.

“I should probably let you get back inside. Hero-duties and all.” He smirked and your face lit up when he referenced one of your inside jokes.

“Thank you again.” You say, waving your hand currently holding the Walkman and trying to urge yourself to say what you really wanted. “I’ve missed… my Walkman.”

You mentally slap yourself.

“You’re welcome.” He nods shyly, turning around and stuffing his hands into his pockets.

You assume he’s finished the conversation and you regrettably walk back up the steps, reaching out for the door handle. It was going to be hard but you knew you had to move on.

“Hey, Y/n.” Eddie calls out and you whip your head back to him, mentally capturing a picture of the infamous grin laying on his lips. “Merry Christmas.”

“You too, Eds.” You smile, pulling open the door and finally stepping away from the past.

“Okay.” You sigh, looking at the current display of the living room.

You and Steve had started on turning the living room into a movie room like you used to, setting up the spare mattress on the floor and positioning it against the couch so you had something to rest your backs on.

When it came to pillows and blankets, you had had just chaotically thrown them everywhere. You had both lost energy after the dance so the fact that you had set all of this up was a major achievement.

You place your hands on your hips, grateful to have changed into something comfier. “So now you just put the popcorn between us while I grab the drinks.”

“You may have to grab the popcorn.” Steve mumbles and you turn to see him holding an empty bowl, pieces of popcorn still shoved in his mouth.

“I-” You take a breath, walking over and grabbing the bowl from his hands, “I have no words.”

He laughs as you walk away to the kitchen, currently moving to put Monty Python into the TV while you sort out the snack situation.

You fill up the bowl, sliding the drinks over and moving to head out of the kitchen before you notice the empty pizza boxes laying by the back door from earlier.

Dumping the snacks back onto the counter, you grab the boxes and slip out of the back door.

As you walk towards the trash cans, a taunting shiver strikes your spine, goosebumps prickling your skin. Turning to the sky, you freeze in your place. A flash of red light revealed a shadow.

It went as quickly as it appeared yet you couldn’t take your eyes off the clouds.

“You should really rethink leaving this popcorn out in plain sight.” Steve chuckles as leans against the door, the bowl in his hands. He straightens as soon as you don’t respond. “You okay?”

He looks to the sky just as you are, frowning. “Did you see something?”

You finally tear your eyes away. “Um…”

“Y/n?”

Once the both of you made your way back inside, Steve insisted you tell him everything. Not because he wanted to know, but because he wanted to help you.

It didn’t take much for you to spill everything, to describe your nightmares, how you swore you could hear the demo-dogs. You finally told him about the black dust, how none of it made any sense.

“But if you knew about the black dust, why didn’t you say something?” Steve’s worried eyes stared into yours, the noise from the comedy on the tv long forgotten now, “You could have died when we-”

“I couldn’t risk it.” You whisper and turns his head. “Tell me you wouldn’t have done the same.”

“That’s different.” He sighs, shaking his head.

“How? How is that any different-”

“Because it’s you!” Steve cries, holding your arms, “You don’t deserve any of this, Y/n. You- you’ve never done anything wrong.”

You stay quiet, a tear finally dropping from your eye. You had decided a long time ago that you would never tell anyone about Lillian. They all thought too highly of you.

“Just-” He sighs again, running a hand through his hair. “Just let me know when one of these… visions or something show up again.”

When you don’t respond, he leans forward until your foreheads touch and the action makes you laugh.

“Swear it.” He says in a robotic voice, making you laugh harder.

“Okay, okay. I swear.” You giggle and he pulls you into a hug.

“Good.” His voice muffled into your hair before he finally lets go. “Now, I’m gonna make more popcorn.”

He stands up and you let out a gasp.

“How did you even finish it?” You were dumbstruck. You could have sworn he hadn’t laid a finger on the bowl since you came back inside.

“I work in mysterious ways.” Steve taunts as he disappears into the kitchen.

You shake your head in amusement, reaching to grab the controller. Your arm stiffens.

You’ve had a lot of cold shivers but this one was definitely the worst. As you struggled to move, a breath leaves your lips and fogs the air. You start to feel light-headed as you shook and you instantly fear what you might find when you turn your head.

When your eyes find your reflection in the TV, you go cold.

Your eyes are black.

“It’s not over yet, Y/n”

[Raining Hellfire will return for Season Three]

Season Three ->

taglist: @gnnnne / @beepisbeep / @paintballkid711/ @eddiesbirdie/ @livasaurasrex/ @darktimelegends / @jackierose902109 / @mvrylee / @chervbs/ @eternallyvenus

[jamespottertheloml]

never been more sure

pairing: james potter x female!reader (any house)

warnings//content: sad james, angst to fluff, mentions of crying, kissing, shitty paragraphing, not proofread

a/n: my first ever oneshot!! i wrote this in like 30 minutes thus the shitty quality, and i’m sorry if the plot doesn’t make sense but hopefully y’all like it <3

*✧･ﾟ:*✧*:*✧･ﾟ:*✧*:･ﾟ✧

“what? really?” lily asked, incredulous.

“yes, lily . for the thousandth time, im not dating james!” you denied. “are you sure ? because a little bird told me that he saw the two of you snogging at hogsmeade last weekend!” she wiggled her eyebrows, desperate to get something out of you, anything.

“snogging? who was snogging?” marlene butted in. the girl was especially good at picking up gossip, she could sense whenever someone was gossiping, and would immediately work her way into the conversation. you couldn’t complain though, her skills made for extremely entertaining conversations.

“apparently, y/n over here was snogging the one and only james potter at hogsmeade last weekend!” lily announced. “what?” marlene laughed. “didnt you vow to yourself to never date james potter?” she asked. “ that’s exactly the point! i’m not dating him, and i never will. i’d rather die than kiss that ugly thing, let alone date him!” you flared. you were sick of all the questions, and all the probing.

the truth was, you and james had been dating for quite some time now. after about 97 failed attempts to get you to go on a date with him, (marlene had counted) you had caved in, and agreed to go on a date with him. on the date, you had succumbed to his charms, and agreed to be his girlfriend.

and it was wonderful. he treated you like you were a goddess, like you were his world. with every bouquet of flowers, every forehead kiss, every cheesy pick up line, you could feel yourself falling harder and harder for him.

james had wanted to go public a while ago, but you had refused to. in all honesty, you were embarrassed of him. you had always had the reputation of being the tough, emotionless y/h/n. you had built your reputation over your 5 years at hogwarts, and if people knew that you were dating james potter, the cheese ball of gryffindor, all that would go to waste. your reputation had helped you gain inordinate amounts of respect from your fellow peers, and you were scared that it would all go away once people found out you were dating james potter. james potter, the same guy who had once stood on the table in the great hall just to announce that he loved his friends, the same guy who had once hacked into the announcement system just to announce his—as he called it— undying love for you. you had told yourself that you would never date him, you would never risk your hard earned reputation just for james potter.

unbeknownst to you, james was right behind you when you were talking to marlene and lily. he had decided to surprise you that day with a new book that he had bought for you. sneaking up behind the three of you, he stopped in his tracks when he heard the three of you talking about him. grinning from ear to ear as he heard what lily said, he was planning his “grand entrance” when he heard what you had said.

the moment you had uttered out the words “ugly old thing”, he swore he could feel his heart crack. his lip trembled as a tear rolled down his rose red cheeks, trying not to make any noise as to prevent you from being alerted of his presence. turning on his heels, he ran back to his dorm, small sobs escaping from his body. once he reached the safety of his dorm, he slammed the door shut, threw the book into his nightstand ,and flopped onto his bed. burying himself under a mountain of pillows, he could hold the heartbreak no longer as he broke into a fit of sobs. he thought you loved him. he had been a fool to think that.

at dinner, you didn’t see james. concerned, you asked sirius where he was. he simply shrugged, and continued stuffing his face with pudding. you rolled your eyes jokingly ; talking to sirius on pudding night was like talking to a wall. swallowing the last of your pudding, you pushed in your chair, bid goodbye to your friends, and set off for james’ dorm. you quickened your steps as you approached, eager to see him.

opening the door with a soft click, you peeked in to be met with the sight of james curled up in a ball underneath a mountain of pillows, his body shaking violently. making your way over to his bed, you sat down next to him and hugged him tight, not noticing that he was crying. “hey baby,” you cooed, “ lemme see you jamesie, missed you today.” you tried your best to get rid of the pillows piled on top of him, but he was adamant. “no! stop it!” he yelled, voice muffled by the pillows. needless to say, you were confused. you didn’t understand why james was acting this way. “what’s wrong, jamie ?please, let me see you, baby.” you pleaded

“i heard what you said. just now. to marlene and lily.” you were confused at first, but realisation slowly sunk in. he had heard what you said about how you would rather die than kiss james, let alone date him.

“baby, please, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean it. was just trying to get marls and lily off my back.” you muttered. pushing off the covers, he stared at you with bloodshot eyes, arms clutching his old stuffie. “oh baby...” you muttered, wrapping your arms around him. “do you even love me?” james asked, the sadness evident in his voice. he had stopped crying, but was still sniffling occasionally. his sad expression broke your heart. “of course i do, jamesie. ‘m sorry. i didn’t mean it, i was just trying to get marls and lily to stop bothering me.” james didn’t reply, but instead held you tighter. “hey, what about this. why don’t we go public?” you suggested, peppering kisses onto his forehead. this caught his attention. “really?” he asked in a small voice. looking up to meet your eyes. “yea, really. we should go public,”you smiled. james smiled, and the sight was enough to make your heart melt. you regretted not doing this sooner.

the next day, the two of you walked into the great hall, hands interlocked. you ignored all the shocked looks, and sat down at your usual spot. james sat down next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. you could’ve swore you saw marlene choke on her porridge. the marauders stared at the two of you with ogling eyes, obviously eager to bombard the two of you with questions. “you still sure about this decision?” james whispered into your ear. leaning in to connect your lips with his, you smiled. “i’ve never been more sure.”

[thesolferino]

Favor

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ genre: angst, fluff

⤷ word count: 8.4k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: dream asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a day. things only seem to go downhill from there.

It started as a favor.

On a quiet night in your apartment when you stared at your phone for way longer than your eyes could physically take and rolled around on the bed, talking to one of your best internet friends, Dream, he asked you for a favor. His voice was muffled through the mic on his phone, the one connected to his computer way cleaner, but neither of you could bother getting off FaceTime and call on Discord instead - yet you still heard him loud and clear, because you burst out laughing right after.

“What the hell did you just say?” you laughed, turning on your stomach and opening the call, now entirely focused on the timer that counted every second you spent talking to him instead of your Twitter timeline.

“It’s embarrassing, don’t make me repeat it!” And for that sole reason, you wanted him to repeat it, loud and clear.

“Is this why you were so insistent on me coming down to Florida? So I could pretend to be your girlfriend at your cousin’s wedding so your family doesn’t think you’re a loser?” you laughed, finding the situation entirely absurd as he sputtered, words mashing together, trying to defend himself.

“No! No, I wanted you to come here because we’re friends and I-I wanna meet you, this is just a… benefit, of sorts.” he replied, and you couldn’t help but laugh even harder at his poor attempt of trying to save face.

“Alright, I’ll bite.” you chuckle. “What’s in it for me?”

“Whatever you want.” he responded, much too quick. Your eyebrows raised.

“Whatever I want?” you parroted.

“Yes.” he confirmed. “I’ll buy you something, if you want; I’ll even pay you-”

“Pay me?! I’m not a whore, Dream!” 

“That is not AT ALL what I was saying!” he cut in, yelling as you burst into a new fit of laughter. “It’s just… I sort of already told them I have a girlfriend and I was just hoping you’d say yes ‘cause it’s gonna be very awkward if I show up without the girlfriend in question.” 

You put your head in your hands and he sort of dryly laughed at himself when he heard your palm hit your forehead. “What is wrong with you, man?” 

“Listen, it’s not gonna be so bad! Just stay by my side for a bit, look pretty, we’ll get some drinks, and then dip. That’s it, I promise.” he reasoned.

“And here I thought we were gonna make out in front of everyone. What’s a fake relationship if we don’t make a show out of it?” you sarcastically snickered, and could practically see his eyeroll from miles away.

“If that’s what you want, then we’ll do it, by all means.” he replied and you laughed, shaking your head in mild disbelief.

“Alright, well, if you already told them, I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” you huffed, pretending to be way more bummed out about it than you really were. “I’ll do it.” 

“Thank you so much, oh my God.” he replied and you chuckled at the sheer relief in his voice.

A few seconds of silence pass. “What’s the catch?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“How do you want me to publicly embarrass myself in exchange for this favor?”

“Personally, I think that forcing you to tweet that tweet about pissing yourself in bed again and also tweeting that everyone should subscribe to me isn’t “publicly embarrassing” at all.” 

“Maybe I should’ve picked a different fake girlfriend.”

“Sucks to suck, pissbaby.”

The weeks leading up to your meetup felt like years, with every treacherous minute of you two talking over muffled mics and shitty webcams feeling longer than it should, your empty apartment feeling emptier and emptier by the day. Was it even possible to miss a person you hadn’t even met yet? 

It turns out that it very much was, because as soon as the painfully long weeks were up and you were finally metres away from him, you jumped in his arms like a woman finally seeing her soldier husband after the war, standing on your tiptoes while he bent down the best he could to hug you back. His chest rumbled with a warm laugh when you turned your head ever so slightly towards his ear.

“Hello, boyfriend.” And just like that, the warm turned into a groan of faux annoyance while you burst into laughter and he pulled away, scanning your face with an equally annoyed look.

“I should’ve never asked you for that. You’re never letting it go, are you?” Yeah, you were kind of annoying with the amount of corny boyfriend jokes you threw his way - you had to give him that. But then again, he crafted his own fate and now he must accept the consequences.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realise your majesty wasn’t appreciating the work I’m doing! I just won’t show up at that wedding, how about that?” you bit back, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You’re such an idiot.” he laughed. “Give me those bags.”

A blissful week had passed, and he hadn’t pissed you off in real life nearly as much as you thought he would. It took a bit of getting used to to his family calling him Clay instead of his beloved internet username, and you did get a couple of suggestive looks from his mother the first few times she visited - you had a couple of “eye conversations” in which she never exactly asked if you were his girlfriend, and you never exactly denied it, but you knew both of you felt the weight of the unspoken words yet you had to keep everything secret and ambiguous. Or at least you thought you did, before he revealed to you that he told his mom the two of you were dating already. Seems like the glances were knowing and not questioning. Maybe you weren’t as good at eye conversation as previously thought.

Living with him was fine, mostly because he had godly air conditioning and a house that was probably way too big for him, and also a very cute cat that followed you everywhere and made living with a man for a full two weeks way more bearable. Finding out that he can’t cook was one of the most bizarre revelations about him that you’d had in the years of your friendship, and you demanded he watched as you made chicken wraps. You complained about how he was 21 and couldn’t cook for himself, he complained about how it’s 2021 and he can just order from Chipotle or something, dude.

A week of goofing around and trying to hide the fact the two of you temporarily lived together from the internet had passed quicker than it should’ve, and for the first time in seven days, Netflix was turned off and the two of you were dressing up for the wedding, ready to set off with his parents and younger sister. He spent ages trying to convince you to match with him, which was quite literally impossible because he wore a black suit and you brought a red dress, which resulted in the two of you roaming around a local mall at 10 am, half asleep, looking for a reasonably formal black dress, because of course Dream always got his way.

An hour of arguing and your fashion tastes clashing later, you picked an off shoulder black dress with a high slit, along with a pair of pumps, both of which you forced him to pay for, and went back home, ready to glam both of you up as much as humanly possible because you were not ready to let him show up in some horrendous pair of shoes and claim to be your boyfriend. 

“Is this okay?” you questioned, turning from the mirror to face him and let him be the judge of your shimmery black and white eyelids, spending way too much time on a makeup look for a wedding of someone whose name you didn’t even know. He blinked at you as his judging gaze washed over you like a wave, scanning you up and down while you nervously cocked your head, leg tapping in faux impatient annoyance to cover up the fact that you felt like prey under his eyes. 

“It’s… yeah, it is. You look good.” Dream confirmed, nodding his head at you in a movement that was way too quick and snappy and you turn back to the mirror with a huff, watching him stare right back at you. 

“Too much, right? I should try something else.” You say, grabbing your makeup remover wipes, but he cuts in before you can even wipe a single smudge.

“No, no, it looks good, I promise. Really good. Don’t touch it.” Something way too sincere in his voice makes the air tense, more tense than usual, but you drop it, deciding to just take the compliment with a tight lipped smile.

“Okay. You ready?” you ask, and he nods, nervously straightening out his suit before looking back at you with an anxious grin.

“Yeah, I think so. Do I look fine?” 

He did. He looked more than fine. You’d never seen him actually dress up for something and put proper care into his looks - he was practically forced into doing it by you this time as well - so seeing him in an actual black suit, all formal and expensive looking, messy dirty blond hair properly combed for the first time in ages, made you gulp and look away. You sort of never understood the argument that women and men can’t be friends because you were never attracted to one of your male friends, ever. Dream was born to be an exception to every rule, it seemed. 

Realising that you abruptly looked away, you attempted to awkwardly clear your throat and smile at him.

“Yeah, you do. Let’s go.”

During the ride there, his mother seemed to finally explode and the words that have clearly wanted to pour out of her mouth for ages finally came out. You supposed it was better for the poor woman, and did your best to suppress a laugh when Dream dramatically sighed and leaned against the window when she nosily spoke up. 

“So… since when have you and Clay been together? He’s told us absolutely nothing!” She spoke up from the passenger seat, shifting to look at you, excited smile plastered on her face and you politely smiled back, mentally noting that you’d have to bully the shit out of him for acting like his mom is embarrassing him in front of his 8th grade crush.

“Ah, we’ve been friends for a long while, but we only started dating a month or so ago, because it’s hard doing long distance and all that.” you said, hoping it would sound believable enough because the two of you rehearsed this a few days ago, writing out a whole backstory from how you started dating to what exact words he used when he asked you out. There were a couple of arguments here and there, such as the fact you refused to say you confessed you’ve been in love with him for years and he refused to say he admitted he’s been your “bottom bitch” for 3 years but in the end, you somehow managed to agree on a cohesive timeline of events.

“Oh, does that mean you’re going to move here?” she questioned, and that one didn’t surprise you either, Dream having prepared a full list of answers to questions that people might ask in your notes app. He was a perfectionist to the point it got on your nerves, but that had its own perks.

“No, but I’ll definitely visit more often, and if it goes well, I might as well move here.” you smiled back at her and she nodded, going back to staring through the windshield. You and Dream exchange a relieved glance that you hope his younger sister doesn’t notice.

“Let me tell you, I was waiting for you two to get together! He always talked about you, I was getting tired of him, you know that?” she giggled and you widened your eyes at Dream who, snapping out of somewhat of a daze, immediately jumped to protest, light blush adorning his pale cheeks. 

“No, I didn’t! I did not, mom, don’t lie to her.” he argued while all she did was laugh.

“Oh come on, it’s not embarrassing now that you’re together!” she kept going, and his younger sister joined in, to make it even worse.

“Yeah, you do talk about her a lot, not gonna lie.” she spoke up and his cold glare directed her way told you everything you needed to know, hanging on by a thread not to burst out laughing. He refused to even look your way, turning back to the window as his cheeks started heating up. You couldn’t help but let out at least a bit of a giggle, placing your hand on his arm in fake comfort.

“It’s okay, you can admit it now.” your tone borderlined on mocking and he knew you’d make fun of him for days to come so he stayed silent while the rest of the car burst into laughter.

The wedding was truly beautifully set up, set in a hotel wedding venue, walls painted in pure innocent white with hints of gold here and there, and you nudged Dream as the two of you observed in awe, asking what sort of money the groom had to be able to afford this sort of expensive venue. Nudging him proved to be way easier now, because you linked arms - you originally made fun of him for suggesting to walk like that instead of holding hands like normal people, telling him you’d look like you were at your high school prom, but he persisted, and you didn’t end up looking as goofy as you thought. 

“He’s a doctor or something, pretty sure.” he replied, quick feet trudging down the long hallways, your own struggling to keep up with him, especially in your heels. He seemed to be in a rush to sit and get it over with as soon as possible so he could avoid any nosy family members, but bad luck followed him everywhere, it seems, because as soon as you two entered the place where the bride and groom would unite, at least three different pairs of eyes locked on you, and you immediately saw a fairly elderly woman get up with open arms, staring at Dream with a grin on her face. You saw him immediately tense up, and almost laughed right then and there.

“There’s my boy! Oh, you’ve grown so much, come here!” The woman looked to be in her fifties and Dream let go of your arm to nervously laugh and fall into her hug, the two rocking from side to side as she kept going on about how it seemed that he grew taller and taller every time she saw him. 

When the two pulled away, her eyes fixed on you, judgingly scanning from head to toe and you suddenly realised why Dream tensed up the way he did - old white women sure had a way to make you anxious. Thankfully, he stepped in. 

“Aunt Bessie, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is aunt Bessie, my mom’s older sister.” he generously offered the explanation you were so obviously lacking and you grinned, as if that information helped you in any way, and stuck out your hand in an offer of a handshake. However, she seemed to have different plans, because as soon as she heard the words “my girlfriend” her face lit up as if she won the lottery and her lips stretched into a smile, opening her arms for you the same way she did for him. 

“Oh my God, you finally got a girlfriend? Come here!” she said, shaking her head at your outstretched hand and gesturing you to return the hug which you quite hesitantly did, politely laughing as she hugged you tighter than you’d deem appropriate. Dream came from a family of huggers - that much was apparent from him, you guess, but you weren’t exactly prepared for this.

Aunt Bessie seemed to be way louder and screechier than expected, because the word “girlfriend” boomed through the room and off the snowy walls, and at least five other family members of his turned around to check who the lucky fellow that finally got a girlfriend was. Another one of his aunts seemed to notice the commotion and suddenly, another older woman with shoulder length, dyed blonde hair, along with her two younger kids, was hurling at you as well. 

“I always complained to him that it was about time he got a girlfriend! He’s a fine young man, no wonder you picked him, honey.” Aunt Bessie shot you a knowing look and you closed your mouth in a tight lipped smile in a feverish attempt to keep down the laugh that threatened to escape you. 

“Oh yeah, he definitely is.” you giggled, looking up at Dream again who looked like he wanted the earth below his feet to open and swallow him whole. Before you could nudge him in the ribs and tease him for hours to come, the other aunt suddenly spoke up.

“Clay! Oh my gosh, is that you?” she exclaimed, shocked grin on her face, and you briefly wondered if Dream ever even visited his family. He nervously smiled, obviously not really sure who this woman even is, but he hugged her back anyway, clearly walking the line between ‘happy to see his family’ and ‘insanely uncomfortable’.

“I haven’t seen you in so long, your dad hasn’t visited since we moved to Toronto! Look at how tall you are, you’re taller than my husband now! You used to be so tiny, whatever happened to you?” Upon hearing the word Toronto he seemed to realise who he was talking to as his eyes softened, and you wondered if he really was so expressive or you could just read him that well.

“I grew up, I guess.” He awkwardly laughed and she laughed harder than she should’ve before turning to you.

“Oh, and who is this?” She said, gaze periodically switching between him and you, a knowing smile on her face which told you she definitely knew who you were.

“Ah, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, this is… my dad’s cousin, Mabel.” He introduced, large hand landing on your back, and you felt like you were experiencing déjà vu at the way her face lit up at the mention of a girlfriend. 

“Wow, it’s so nice to meet you, Y/N!” She said, energetically shaking your hand, before turning back to Dream. “You never told us you got a girlfriend! You’re finally planning on settling down, huh?” 

Your head snapped in his direction at the speed of light when she mentioned settling down, and you could see him tense up as well as he nervously laughed.

“Yeah, we haven’t visited in a while, so nobody from the family really knew. And, uh… we haven’t really thought of that yet, we’re taking it slow and everything.” He said and you were almost in awe at how good he was at bullshitting. The woman did nothing but laugh.

“Ah, don’t lie to me, I see the way you two look at each other! It’s your wedding we’ll be attending next!” She winked, and just as Dream got ready to fake laugh once again, her family called her over and she excused herself, walking off.

The two of you hurried to your seats as well, sitting down next to his younger sister. 

“Your family is insane, man, holy shit.” You laughed in disbelief, staring at him as he shook his head, clearly as distressed as you were.

“Literally nobody in this family gives a single fuck if I’m single or not except the old aunties. And I seem to have a shit ton of those.” He muttered under his breath. “The way you look at each other - I literally didn’t even look at you properly that whole time!” 

You cackled at that one, hitting his arm. “She’s right, Clay. You’re one fine young man, eh?” You nudged him as he groaned in embarrassment, only turning your way to glare at you. 

You didn’t get to tease him for much longer, though, because the organ started playing and the bridesmaids and groomsmen lined up, the groom standing at his designated place. The bride walked in, arms locked with her father, thin white veil covering her face as she walked down the aisle, looking angelic in her puffy wedding gown. Silky brown hair fell down her shoulders, curled towards the ends, and you could see the hint of blood red lipstick beneath the veil. She looked beautiful - the groom seemed to think so as well, because you could see him tapping the corner of his eye lightly, wiping any stray tears.

She finally made it to the end and stepped to face her soon-to-be husband as her father moved away, sitting back in his chair. The wedding officiant stepped up, and held a speech much longer than it should be, which just led you to zone out. 

One day you’d be beneath that veil, wouldn’t you? One day, you’ll face your fiancé the same way she is, and you’ll let your hearts link with a string that nobody but the two of you could snap. Who would that be, though? Who could you even trust with your heart in their hands? And you’re not aware of how and why and when, but your eyes shot up at Dream, whose eyes also glinted in that way where you knew he wasn’t paying attention, and maybe he was thinking about the same thing as you. Maybe one day, you’ll be attending his wedding, forcing one of your friends to play a fake boyfriend as he wipes his tears, waiting for his bride to get to him. 

It was disheartening, the thought of being a bystander while he locks lips with somebody else. You supposed you just liked being the center of attention, so you let yourself pretend you were his bride in your daydreams. Separating daydreams from rational thoughts was mandatory, because you weren’t sure how you’d explain to yourself that you can’t stand seeing Dream marry someone else. 

Dream, the infamous hopeless romantic, still seemed out of it, maybe even a little emotional, despite not being that close with either of the two. He was probably thinking about his own wedding as well, thinking about his future, the face he’d see when he pulled back the veil.

Just then, his eyes darted to yours, and you realised you were caught staring, snapping your head back to the couple that started reading their vows by now. You started going red from the neck up, cheeks on fire as you could feel his gaze burning into you. He turned back after a few seconds, though, probably assuming you stared at him because you were bored, and neither of you spoke, even though you kind of wish you did. What even is there to say, though? 

By the time you snapped back, the “I do”s were already being said, and her veil was getting lifted, showing her beauty to everyone present, and as they kissed the whole room bursted into cheers and applause in support of the newlyweds. The two exit, teary eyed, their parents follow close behind, and that’s when Dream’s family rushes both of you to your feet, following the two into the reception hall where the actual party would take place. 

From then on, the wedding is the same as any other. The two have their first dance, they give a welcoming speech, and Dream lets you stuff your face with cake and repeatedly refills your wine glass as repayment for dragging you into this whole thing. At some point, he stretches his hand out to you and asks for a dance like a rom-com main character, and you’re not sure exactly why he did that because he’s mostly terrible at dancing, but you had fun letting him twirl you until you got dizzy anyway.

You also realised just how much he did actually need a fake girlfriend, because it seemed like every twenty minutes some sort of relative of his would walk up to the two of you and congratulate him on “finally getting a girlfriend”. You ended up bullying him for that as well, wondering just how long he’s been single for if they’re all this surprised that he’s got a girlfriend, to which he just downed the glass of water he’d been sipping for half an hour and asked you about the weather.

His family took a few pictures with the new couple - you even got to speak to the bride at some point, congratulating her and wishing the two of them well, but in the span of a few hours, the wedding was over and the newlyweds made a great exit, signifying the end of the party. The two of you were driven home by his parents, and you waved them goodbye as you stumbled to the front door, your heels insanely uncomfortable and the red wine in your stomach weighing down on you; you just wanted to get out of this dress and into a pair of pajamas and pass out on his couch in the living room. 

That’s sort of exactly what you did - you half-assed taking your makeup off, wiping down your face a couple of times, deciding that was enough before changing into some worn pajamas and plopping down on the couch next to Dream who already claimed his place and sunk into the cushion while a random movie played on the TV. The two of you basked in the comfortable silence that surrounded you, the exhausted, tired type. You both appreciated the quiet and fell asleep sitting next to each other, wedding already forgotten.

That night, he went from Dream to Clay.

The departure was bittersweet. You left two days after that, your hug at the airport tight, warm, filled with a sugary sweet feeling you couldn’t quite place and sour acid that ate away at you because you didn’t want to leave in the slightest. His arms were warm, inviting, whispering for you to stay but you left anyway, waving him goodbye, setting off to home. 

It seemed like all your problems came and went with him, because a week later, at 3 in the morning while you were up editing a video, you got an all caps message on your Discord from Sapnap.

“YOU’RE DATING DREAM?”

You blinked at your computer screen, white letters blinding you in the dark, brain trying to keep up with why he even thought that. Within 10 seconds, another message, this time from Dream.

“so i told george and sapnap that we’re dating”

“don’t kill me pls” 

Yeah, you weren’t going to kill him, per se, but he definitely made your life a lot harder than it should be. You opened Discord, Premiere Pro and the unedited video abandoned, typing back to Clay quickly.

“WHY”

He responded immediately, as one panicked man does.

“they’ve been making fun of me for being single for ages now :(“

“we already did this fake dating thing before and it went perfectly fine”

“just play along for a month or so”

“pls”

You audibly sighed. And as if he could hear you, he started typing again.

“i’ll promote you on my channel more”

“just pls do it”

“you love me, right” 

Another sigh fell from your lips before you could stop it. Of course you did, because if you didn’t, there’s no way you would be playing into this. You typed back.

“fine”

He messaged back immediately.

“THANK YOU”

“LOVE YOU <333”

With a shake of your head, you mumbled “idiot” with the ghost of a smile flashing on your face, switching back to your video, opting to ignore Sapnap for a little bit. He could wait. 

Fake dating seemed pretty damn easy during the first week - you thought you were killing it by sending corny tweets and staged selfies so he could screenshot them and send them to the groupchat, giggling on call about how oblivious they are and how you’re fooling them so good, both of you opting to ignore the parts where they claimed they knew the two of you were gonna get together eventually. It was fun, lighthearted, and an excuse to flirt with someone you had nothing official with.

As much as all your problems came and went with Clay, though, they came and went with his friends as well, especially that hopeless man Clay called his best friend. 

Because yeah, of course Sapnap was the one to accidentally spill to the public that the two of you were “dating”.

George was streaming at what was apparently a normal time in the UK, not so much for Florida, and Clay was sleeping while you were watching his stream while making some food for yourself. It was going fine, a bit of a chill stream, and you leaned against the fridge as your oven preheated, tired eyes following his Minecraft skin. 

“Sophie, thank you for the dono! ‘Hey George, I love your videos, just wanted to ask if you were speedrunning with Dream today?’” he read out, and you could faintly hear Sapnap join the stream through your headphones. 

“No I’m not, Dream’s… I don’t know what Dream’s doing right now, actually. He’s not responding to me, though. Probably talking to his girlfriend still.” he continued, exaggerating the last part mockingly, still playing into the whiny role of being upset that Clay was ditching the two of them for you. That majorly woke you up, though, as you stood straight on your feet immediately, because oh no, nobody was supposed to know.

You exited out of the Twitch app quickly, letting the stream play in the background as you tried to fish for Sapnap’s profile on Discord and text him as quick as possible, trying to warn him to not let anybody know, but before you could do it, you heard his laughter clear in the stream.

“Yeah, Y/N, his sweetie poo.” Sapnap said, causing George to laugh even louder, before moving onto the next topic, and your heartbeat picked up an insane amount, nails loud and probably damaging your phone screen as you typed as quickly as humanly possible to yell at him because this was not planned, at all.

You heard him go quiet after you shot him a couple of messages over Discord (“SAPNAP” “ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID” “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU” “NOBODY KNOWS YET” “IM GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU”), type something to George who then fell quiet as well for a few seconds, pure horror on his face, and then went back to streaming as if nothing happened while Sapnap profusely apologised to you on his and George’s behalf.

No apology could fix what had already been done, though, and you were left alone with the warzone that was Twitter who had already speculated the two of you were dating long before while Clay peacefully slept somewhere in his house at 4 am in Florida. You bombarded him with messages and waited until he woke up ‘cause what were you even supposed to do?! 

You chose to spend your time finishing the pizza you were originally supposed to make and almost burnt your whole apartment down because you forgot the oven was on for a whole hour while yelling at Clay’s idiotic best friends. You yelled at Sapnap, who kept apologising to you, you yelled at George, who yelled back that it’s not that big of a deal because people were bound to find out anyways, and you yelled at Clay, because he was the guilty one somehow for not being awake during your breakdown. 

He did eventually wake up though, to the shitshow that were his notifications with at least thirty messages from each of you, messages from his other YouTube friends who were fairly surprised, and his entire fanbase going ham on Twitter. He was surprisingly calm about it - calmer than you were, anyways, and sheepishly said over the phone that the fake dating thing may have to go on for a little longer since you couldn’t just date for a month and then break up, and you were sort of okay with that.

And of course, the business side of him awoke at that moment, and he giddily told you about the amount of views the two of you could pull if you did the same shit you do with George and Sapnap anyway, but on livestream. 

You rolled your eyes.

And then agreed anyway. 

And so, the charade began.

His Twitter statement was up shortly, telling the people that you’d been dating for a couple of weeks and weren’t planning to tell anybody yet until a certain someone spilled their guts live, and the fact Dream was dating someone, let alone another popular streamer, took the internet by storm. You expected hate, and you got quite a bit of that, but the people that had shipped the two of you before were certainly more than delighted and a lot of Clay’s fans were supportive. 

Now, both of you had excuses to do chill streams together and just hang out and you took the opportunity and ran with it. 

You’d sit and play Geoguessr or just try and speedrun Minecraft a bunch of times for hours on end, doing stupid bits and things you’d be doing offline anyways, with a little more flirting than usual, because that’s what made it interesting.

“Oh this is France, for sure.” you claimed one night, two or three weeks after the secret was officially out, chewing on the fries you bought for this specific occasion, streaming on his alt to a few thousand people. 

“You think so? It could be Belgium, too.” he responded, humming in thought as he looked around.

“I know so.” you responded.

“How?” 

“I just do. Gamer intuition, babe.” you said, and he wheezed at your response, repeating the words gamer intuition under his breath.

“No, seriously. It is France, I know it is, I’ve seen so many pictures of that place I know it like the back of my hand now. That’s Lyon, or something.” you continued, plopping another french fry into your mouth.

“You have? Why do you know so much about France, that’s so random.” he responded, opening the map and pointing to France, although he keeps looking around, unsure of his decision.

“I dunno, I like it there. I wish I could move there.” you replied.

“Why, though?” 

“It’s pretty and heavily romanticised! Just like me!” you joked and he laughed, before letting you continue. “I dunno, it’s the city of love. Be a little romantic.” 

“The… the city of love is whatever city the two of us are in.” he said, and it took a few seconds for you to process the joke before letting out a fake disappointed sigh.

“I can’t believe I’m dating someone as corny as you.” 

At that, he bursts into wheezes, and you follow along, enjoying the sound of his laughter coursing through your headphones more than you used to a few weeks back. It feels nice, feels right, acting like this. You like calling him your boyfriend more than you think you should. 

A few weeks go by, and it feels all too natural. It feels too natural, talking to him first thing in the morning when you’ve barely even had your coffee, calling him pet names, throwing sweet words at each other publicly like they mean nothing. It feels all too natural, and nice, and all too right, and you don’t even notice when the two of you cross the line between public and private, and you’re stuck making stupid jokes about making out when you first see each other when there’s nobody to witness them except the walls of your rooms, but you don’t like thinking about that, because you know it’ll bring nothing but confusion. The current this that the two of you have is perfect to you, perfectly lighthearted and funny and fun, and you intend on keeping it that way, refusing to think about it in any way past jokes.

That is, until you can’t anymore.

It’s late, again, and you’re staring at his contact name on your phone screen, lazily lying on the bed. It reminds you of a night from roughly 3 months ago, when your whole friendship seemed to change in the few seconds it took you to process what he’d asked of you, and it feels weird, but nice.

“My mom really likes you, you know?” Clay breaks the quiet that you’ve learned to appreciate in his presence, and you exhale through your nose, the noise just short of a chuckle.

“Yeah?” You laugh, and he does as well.

“Yeah.” He reaffirms. “She thinks you’re a great girlfriend. Apparently I seem brighter ever since we got together.”

You laugh again. “I am a great girlfriend, to be fair. She’s totally right.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t know that. If you’re as good of a girlfriend as you pretend to be, though, then you’re amazing.” He says, and words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them. 

“Yeah? You wanna find out?” The flirty nature is nothing strange to the two of you, but this time it feels kinda different, it feels like you’re stepping into dangerous territory that there’s no coming back from. You feel like you’ve ruined everything, for some reason.

He laughs, like normal, though. He laughs like nothing happened at all, and you’re so, so grateful for that.

“Sure, let’s do it. You’re about to unpack the full Clay boyfriend experience.” He snickers and you laugh as well. 

“That means I just unlock the dick as well as the personality.” you respond, quick as always, and the wheeze that escapes him is so loud that it makes you laugh too.

“...Unlock the dick…” he repeats through another wheeze and you nod, laughing.

“Yeah! I mean I’m literally experiencing the boyfriend experience without actually having a boyfriend, it’s fuckin’ great.” you say and he hums.

“You could have one, though.” 

The implications are crazy, his words are crazy, he’s crazy and everything that he could mean and couldn’t mean by that is driving you crazy too, brain faltering and heart seeming way too big for your chest to contain it. It’s silent.

“I could, I guess.” 

You choose to say, and he switches the topic naturally, like he never said anything.

Things are never the same again.

It’s not in a bad way. Sure, it is kind of a bad way for the feelings you’re trying to push down inside you, a bad way for hot nights when the unbearable heat forces you to stay up even when you don’t want to and you have no choice but to think about why you feel the way you feel as you melt into the burning sheets below you, a bad way for when he jokes about finding somebody else and you feel your stomach churning. A bad way for realising that this fake dating thing is really getting to you, but not a bad way in general.

Maybe it’s in a good way. Maybe the underlying implications whenever he makes jokes about making the relationship real are good, maybe the way he calls you in the middle of the night when he’s anxious and freaking out and defends himself by saying: “You’re my girlfriend, you’re always there for me, I just figured I could call you.” and you end up wondering if it’s possible to say jokes in such a vulnerable state or if he’s serious is good, maybe the way it’s been a few months and he won’t tell his own best friends that it was a joke the whole time is good, maybe the way you confronted him about it and he said he likes having you as his girlfriend is good. 

Maybe the way the two of you are always walking the line between joking and being serious, between being friends and something more, between lies and pranks and emotional investment and fear of committing, and the way you’re always trying to push the other off, is good. 

The fans love it. The fanart is incredible (serves especially well for those hot nights when you can’t fall asleep and you scroll, watching yourself fall in love with Clay in every universe, tales told by people who observe your story and find it worthy enough to retell in their own words, to take the love you pretend to have and turn it into something real), people love to gush over the compliments he sprinkles in at random times during conversation and the general flirty dynamic is loved by many, pulling in more views and attraction for you. 

And you suppose that’s good too, but at some point, the good warps into bad, bad warps into terrible, and you wonder if this is all even worth the sleepless nights, wondering if he feels the same way.

Those thoughts haunt you more and more often every day. When you wake up, and text him first thing in the morning, your brain acknowledges that the camera is off - nobody’s around, people aren’t listening, so why are you still playing the role of a girlfriend and starting up a conversation with him when you haven’t even brushed your teeth properly? When you’re editing in the middle of the day and he calls to keep you company, making more stupid boyfriend jokes, your stomach flips in a weird way that makes you hate him, hate the way he can joke about these things so freely, like it doesn’t hurt him. Like it doesn’t affect him like it affects you. 

But, as much as you wish you could hate him, you couldn’t bring yourself to, and that was the worst part. Because, in reality, whenever he laughed you’d smile without realising you did, whenever anything exciting happened to you he was the first one you went to, whenever you wanted to laugh or cry or sit in silence for hours or complain you always went to him, the one person who you know would listen. In reality, whenever he made a joke about giving up on the fake dating and making it real, you wished so bad that he was serious this time, that this was what it took and he’d crack and all of your suffering would end.

It eventually happens.

It’s a pretty chilly morning, birds chirp outside and the sun that slowly rises is covering the kitchen floor in a golden hue as you pour milk into your cereal with one hand and hold your phone in the other, letting Clay ramble about whatever it was this time, when he brought it up.

“So, when do you wanna come down to Florida again?” he asks casually, and you almost drop the gallon of milk in your hand. 

“What?” 

“I said, when are you coming down to Florida again? Last time you came was pretty fun.” he says, and an empty silence follows. There’s an unsaid “I miss you” that you don’t hear, and he’s too afraid of saying it. 

“Florida wasn’t exactly on my schedule this month, man.” you say, placing your phone on the counter for a second. Clay sure knew how to surprise a person.

“Well put it down, then.” he jokes, and you hum.

“What, you got another wedding coming up?” you giggle and he groans - you never really stopped making fun of him for that wedding.

“No, I don’t. Can’t a man just miss seeing his beloved girlfriend?” It’s unbelievable how quickly dread can wash over you as soon as he makes one of those jokes. You were convinced the mix of anxiety and butterflies that appears in your stomach was gonna kill you sometime soon.

“He can, he’s just being weirdly insistent.” you argue nonetheless. “But sure, I’ll consider it.”

You do more than consider it - in a few weeks, you’re back at the airport, and falling into his arms has never given you such an adrenaline rush in your whole life. Something about having him wrapped around you, close to you, the warmth of his body radiating into yours sent you spiraling, head clouded with nothing but love and the fact that you wish you could stay there forever. You wished you could press pause and cherish the moment, let yourself bask in that feeling of pure love, pure adoration that you helplessly drowned in. But you couldn’t, and you left his arms feeling oddly empty. 

Hiding the fact that you were unapologetically head over heels for him proved to be a hundred times more difficult when you were right there, next to him, talking to him, when you could just kiss him any second, feel his lips on yours and nobody would stop you - the opportunity was right there, looming over you, the devil on your shoulder taunting you, telling you to do it. 

You got to wake up in the same house as him, watch his hair stick out in different directions and his raspy morning voice as he complained about the smell of your coffee, watch his eyes glint whenever he talked about something he liked and observe as he carried around Patches like a little baby. You got to experience every bit of domestic without the consequences of committing, and you wondered just how far this would go. For how much longer would the two of you blatantly ignore the fact that you were a couple that slapped the title “fake” on it because you were cowards who refused to admit what this truly was. 

Not for long, apparently, because you grew tired, and decided to put an end to everything on one random Thursday night - and if he hated you forever for it, then so be it. 

You were sitting on his couch, watching a random movie together, drowning in one of his Dream hoodies while you chewed the popcorn he made. It was dark outside, just past midnight, and you could see the branches of a tree swaying calmly through one of the nearby windows - the silence while he scrolled through his phone lazily was comforting too, everything was lazy and serene and it would’ve been perfect if it wasn’t for the constant anxiety that gripped you by the throat whenever you were in his close proximity, the nervousness that killed you, the upset feeling of wanting to cuddle up with him but knowing you can’t because you guys are just friends, and nothing more.

The couple on the screen kiss while a violin plays in the background - how fitting. Maybe that’s what pushes you to the edge, or maybe you were just that sick and tired.

You were exhausted, beyond exhausted. Your eyes were tired, the anxiety was morphing into annoyance and anger and you were ready to give up on it all. If this ended the friendship, at least you two had a good run. Your heart couldn’t take it anymore.

“You know, you still owe me a favor in return for pretending to be your girlfriend.” you say, and you sound gone, zoned out, more than you wish you were. You hear his phone turn off with a click.

“Yeah? What do you want?” Clay asks, and you blankly stare at the TV for a few seconds before turning to face him, eyes burning. 

“Kiss me.” 

It’s silent. The characters on screen are arguing. You hear the wind through one of his open windows.

“What?” he asks, voice cracking, and his expression falls. You’ve fucked it. Oh well.

“I want you to kiss me. Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me like someone’s watching and you wanna make it believable.” you say, eyes boring into his, your words having nowhere near as much of an effect on yourself as they do on him. Your eyes sting like they’re being lit on fire, and your throat is sort of closing up, but it’s fine. “Let me have this before I go, because once I leave, I don’t wanna do this anymore, Clay. I can’t pretend like I don’t want you to introduce me as your girlfriend and fully mean it. I can’t lie to your face anymore.” 

Silence. Deafening silence, once again.

“I love you.” he blurts out, and you don’t even register it at first. “I don’t want this shit to be fake either. God, I really don’t. It hasn’t been fake for a while now, at least not on my part. I’m sorry, it’s just- it was easier to keep this bit going than it was to actually admit that I’m… into you.”

And once again, the room falls into silence, much like it always does whenever the two of you share moments like these.

And then, you burst into laughter.

“So… so you mean to tell me, that both of us have liked each other this whooooole fucking time, and just refused to admit it and ‘pretended to date’ instead?” you burst into giggles, and he looks sort of hesitant to laugh, but he does anyway.

“I mean… yeah? I was waiting for you to call me out for doing all that when nobody was watching! Why did you never call me out?! Don’t blame me, I made it so damn obvious that I wanted you!” he protests, and you almost can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“Excuse me? You should’ve just fucking told me instead of making a million and one jokes about how I’m your girlfriend! We’re not in middle school, Clay!” you argue.

“Yeah, but I thought you’d catch on and talk to me about it at some point! You never called me out for anything!”

“So what, I’m supposed to just read your mind now? You’re fucking unbelievable.” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest and turning away in annoyance. As soon as a warm hand lands on your shoulder, though, the annoyance melts like wax under fire, leaving nothing behind.

“I still haven’t returned that favor, you know?” he whispers in your ear, breath fanning your neck, closer than he should be. The hairs on your neck stand up as you turn back to Clay, who wore a mischievous grin and a glint in his eyes that suggested no good. 

You suppose bad can be good, sometimes. 

As his lips press onto yours, that theory is proven true, because he sends a flicker of fire burning down your spine, spreading into your limbs, making your fingertips electric as you pulled him in closer, hand snaking up to grip at his hair - the everlasting grin against your own proves, once again, to be no good as his hands slip under your hoodie and grip your sides, but you think you enjoy this sort of bad. 

They sneak up further, and you hear him chuckle into the kiss as your insides melt at his touch. The two of you silently agree that maybe he should ask for favors more often.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Lost Time ❤️ (S.R.)

Summary: Reader and Spencer spend their mandatory leave taking the Spring Break Spencer never got to have. (See Requests Here) A/N: This piece bounces between Spencer and Reader’s POV! Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut/Angst (NSFW, 18+, Happy Ending) Content Warning: Mutual pining, dub con (sexual assault – reader victim w/ non-canon character), self-hatred, penetrative sex, unprotected sex Word Count: 11.2k

MASTERLIST

It was that time of year again. The BAU was taking its annual leave. The two weeks, which almost never actually lasted two weeks, where the office would be empty. For most of the team, the time was a blessing; their days would be spent with significant others or family, friends, or fame.

Not me, though. For me, it meant two weeks away from the only friends I really had. The days would be spent in the park playing chess or at cafes, lazing around and counting the seconds until I could stop pretending like I had anything else to do. I didn’t mind it that much, really. I was used to being alone, and it wasn’t like it would be forever. If it had been another year with another team, I might have even looked forward to the time off.

But it was hard to be happy about it that year. It was impossible, really, to look forward to days where I wouldn’t see her. Especially knowing that she would probably be spending the two weeks having the time of her life with her absolute piece of shit boyfriend.

I couldn’t explain that to her, though. I couldn’t give away just how lonely I was or just how much I absolutely hated that horrible asshole. So, when she caught my elevator on her way out of the building, I asked the question I already knew the answer to. At least I wouldn’t have to wonder.

“So... what are you going to do on your time off? Do you have plans with your boyfriend?”

(Y/n) looked at me with an expression I could only describe as utterly bewildered. For a second I thought I must’ve said something wrong, but then the thought came to her with a jolt.

“Oh! No, we...” she trailed off, her voice getting significantly softer and sadder, though she tried to hide it with a laugh. “We broke up, actually. Like two weeks ago.”

Don’t look happy. Don’t look relieved.

“Oh, I’m sorry. You didn’t say anything to me about it.”

With a gentle jab of her elbow into my side, she teased, “Aren’t you supposed to be a profiler or something?”

I’m such an asshole.

There was no avoiding the butterflies in my chest and the way my shoulders straightened from the news. The fact she’d touched me made it even worse, and my entire body practically swayed to chase after her.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Please say no. He doesn’t deserve our time.

“Nah. It doesn’t matter,” she mumbled with a shrug. It gave me some hope that she’d maybe finally listened to my, granted, vague advice about her abysmal taste in men.

That hope only lasted a matter of seconds before it was crushed.

“He was probably too good for me anyway.”

“I don’t think that was it.” The bitterness laced through my words so powerfully it stained my tongue. I regretted it only to the extent that it hurt her, but that hurt seemed fleeting and minimal compared to the way a smile eventually bloomed over her cheeks.

It looked a little too sad for my taste. Still beautiful, though.

I wanted to watch her hand as it started to stir, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her smile for even a second. Even as she pressed her palm to my cheek, I only barely strayed to look into her eyes.

With a heavy sigh, she said, “Why can’t more guys see me with Spencer tinted glasses?”

If they don’t look at you like I do, they don’t deserve you. I thought the feelings louder, hoping that she could hear them. Considering she let her hand fall, I don’t think she did.

“Honestly, I just want to... get away. You know?” she started, recognizing the confused look on my face before she thought about how to explain. “Like in college when you got dumped by your shitty boyfriend who cheated on you. You just spend the next holiday vacation on a beach somewhere getting your heart broken by another douchebag.”

There was an awkward silence after she finished, but only because I was trying to figure out if that was really all the context I was going to get. When she started to pout, I panicked.

“I relate to absolutely none of what you just said,” I said to explain the silence, “But I think I get it.”

It was a lie, but she didn’t bother pointing it out. I got the impression I’d only managed to make her feel worse by reminding her that these kinds of things only seemed to happen to her.

The elevator reached the garage, and she waited for me to step off before she followed. Deducing that she was going to see whether or not I hung around, I made a point of only stepping out of the way of others before I turned my attention completely back to her. I really, really didn’t want her to leave yet, even though I had no idea what to say.

She looked comfortable in the ambient noise of the wind caught between the cement. I let myself hope that I played some small part in that feeling.

“Maybe I’ll just go by myself. That’s not pathetic, is it?”

My laughter was probably not the result she was hoping for, but I couldn’t help it. The idea just seemed so silly. “No, you’re not pathetic,” I stated like the fact it was. “If I did it, it would be pathetic. But you? No.”

Her whole body reacted to my voice, her arms jumping up in an excited wave before she shouted, “Oh! Spencer! What are your plans?”

Okay, don’t sound pathetic.

“I don’t have any. I was just going to see if I could finally look into some new theories and catch up on recent scientific journal releases.”

Or, worded differently, I would be sitting on my couch and imagining how much better it would be if you were there with me.

(Y/n) narrowed her eyes, drifting closer to me until our arms were pressed against each other. I tried not to let her see how quickly the contact drained the air from my lungs.

“Can you do that from the beach?”

“What?” I asked, just hoping to keep my mind focused on her words instead of the way she spun around to grab hold of both of my hands.

“Come with me!” she cried so excitedly I thought my heart might burst.

I wanted to tell her yes immediately, to throw myself into her life in any capacity she would have me. I wanted to sweep her off her feet and take her away to a world where she would know love unlike anything she’d experienced before. But my brain had latched on to the most recent red flag in the sea that was her romantic preferences.

“With you? To the beach?” I asked first, to clarify. My heart ached when she bounced her head and held tighter to my fingers. There was no nice way of saying the next part.

“Go with you to... get your heart broken by some guy? I don’t know, (y/n), I might get in the way of that.”

Her body language faltered, but only for a second before she brought back the same enthusiasm from before I pointed out the gaping hole in her plan.

“Come on! It’ll be fun!” she urged through a bright, toothy grin, “You’ve never had a spring break experience and I’m the perfect wingwoman!”

That last word felt like a punch to the gut, yet another reminder that even in a world where the two of us ran off into the literal sunset together, it was never as a couple. She would always belong to someone else.

But how could I say no to her? How could I look at her, bouncing on her toes and hands wrapped around mine, and not want to follow her? How could I hurt her and pretend like I loved her at the same time?

“Okay.”

I heard myself say it before I realized what had happened. (Y/n) looked equally concerned that she heard me wrong.

“Okay?” she repeated.

“Yeah…” I answered, letting the words come slowly in the hope it would make them sound more genuine. Because they were. “I’ll go with you.”

“Really?” She was bouncing even quicker, knocking both of our bags against each other and eliciting a rather embarrassing giggle from myself.

“I can’t promise I’ll be the best wingman, but I’ll be better than a college girl... I think.”

There was no second-guessing what I’d said, or worrying about whether it was too weird, because as soon as the words left my mouth, she had thrown her arms around me. I caught her in my own, not bringing her closer through sheer force of will. Instead, I let her adjust the pressure exactly how she wanted to and cursed my satchel for getting in her way. But she didn’t even seem to notice, burying her face in my shirt and mumbling the words against the fabric,

“Thanks, Spencer. You’re the best friend in the world.”

Don’t look hurt. Don’t let her see how much it hurts.

Avoiding the thought as best as I could, I cleared my throat when she started to pull away. “You know I hate the beach though, right?” I started with a bit of a whine. Before I got any further, she cut me off.

“It’s non-negotiable.”

“Alright, fine,” I sighed, “You win.”

But from where I was standing, I wouldn’t exactly say that I lost.

The crisp white sheets of the resort hotel weren’t new to me. I swore, no matter how many stars a place had, they all used the same bleached-out supplier. I guess I just hadn’t really had time to think about how much they sucked when I was exhausted from work. And the few times I did go in my free time, I was usually way more distracted by the other person in the bed with me.

Maybe that was why the sheets felt so strange then. Because while I wasn’t at the beach alone, there would be a set of two doors between me and him.

“It feels weird not rooming with you,” I announced to the man who stood on the other side of the threshold, carefully cleaning the wheels on his suitcase before he would let it touch any other surface in the room. The action made me smile because for a brief moment I forgot just how strange it was.

I was just so used to his idiosyncrasies. I actually quite liked them.

“I’m just on the other side of the door,” Spencer chuckled, pointing to the barriers that had remained wide open since we’d arrived.

“Yeah, but, I don’t know. I’m used to staying in the same room as the team, you know?” I tried to argue.

It didn’t work.

“Not really? We usually stay in our own rooms?” he returned with knitted brows and another nervous laugh. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to deflect or if he was actually just oblivious to my very poor attempts at flirting. I figured it was probably the former and let it go. After all, I wasn’t really his type. And considering he wasn’t a raging asshole, I guess he wasn’t my type, either. No matter how badly I really, really wanted him to be.

“Fine, then. I guess you won’t get to cuddle with me tonight,” I said with a triumphant huff.

That time, the laugh he gave was genuine, fading off into the calm, comforting feeling flowing between the rooms. “I’m not really what they call a ‘cuddler,’” he explained simply. Unfortunately for him, I knew him a lot more than he gave me credit for.

“Oh, I don’t believe that for a second.”

The boy who begged to share a blanket with me on the jet couch could not convince me that he would not love a proper cuddle. No way.

Almost sarcastically, Spencer challenged my conclusion with his own observation. “I don’t know, I’m pretty stingy with physical touch.”

I figured it wasn’t worth the argument when I could see from his little smirk that he knew I was right, anyway. Because it was true that Spencer was usually stingy with physical touch with most people— but not with me. Most of the team would get the semi-regular hug from him. I’d even been told by JJ that he’d taken even less time to take that leap with me. It didn’t mean anything, though. He’d grown a lot since he started at the BAU. He was just a different person. It wasn’t anything special about me. Which was why I didn’t linger on the topic, instead shifting it to the remarkably more relevant.

“What about sunscreen?”

Spencer, the non-cuddler that was apparently still fixated on cuddling, didn’t catch on. With an adorably confused look, he asked, “What about it?”

Again, I was too used to him to be surprised by his obliviousness. I held the bottle up to him as I tried to lessen the smile on my face as I clarified, “Will you help me put it on?”

“S-Sure,” he squeaked. That time, it was less obvious if he was trepidatious because he was uncomfortable with putting it on me, or if he would have reacted that way to anyone. He had just told me he was stingy with touch, after all. But he came to me too quickly for me to be concerned. I also saw the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat when I finally pulled off my shirt, revealing my back and shoulders to the man who had definitely seen them before.

I wrote it off as him being a gentleman, but it was hard not to feel a little uneasy at how badly his hands trembled when they did finally touch me. I told myself it was just because he wasn’t used to touching half-naked women, but I had no reason to believe that. Spencer didn’t talk to me about his love life… at all. Trying to spare my feelings, I guess.

The same preservation couldn’t be attributed to me. Without even thinking about the sultry nature of the noise that escaped me as he rubbed my shoulders, I drawled, “Your hands are so warm.”

If he was trembling before, he was positively shaking now. Still, Spencer said nothing. He just kept trying to smooth out the stripes of white down my lower back that arched at his touch.

“What’s it like having big hands?” I asked, hoping the terrible conversation choice would help distract us from the way my ass pressed against him.

Spencer was too far gone. Despite the constant clearing of his throat, he managed to finish as quickly as possible and practically threw my coverup back at me before turning away.

“I’m not sure I understand the question,” he mumbled, taking a seat beside me and crossing his legs in a very transparent manner. I didn’t want to think about the effect touching me had on him, but I couldn’t help it. He looked so pathetically polite while he tried to distract himself by poorly applying sunscreen on his arms and face. Like I would blame him for being a man who was attracted to a woman’s figure.

There was still little reason to dwell on it, though. Instead, I just took his hand that had run out of sunscreen and resorted to nervously ruffling his hair. When Spencer looked up at the contact, all he would find was my palm flattening against his, slowly stretching out our fingers to see how different they were.

“Have you ever seen Tarzan?” I asked, unable to hide my inspiration for too long.

“Can’t say that I have.”

It wasn’t that surprising, considering. But it was an unforgivable thing, nonetheless.

“Let’s watch it tonight,” I suggested, intertwining our fingers and pulling him back off the bed.

Spencer laughed as he fell forward, apparently no longer insecure about any signs of attraction. I wondered if it was because I had a similar effect on him as he had on me, but I didn’t ask. No, I just pulled him closer, wrapping my arm around his waist in a very poorly conducted waltz that involved almost no movement. He played along, anyway, moving his two left feet and almost crushing mine in the process.

“I thought you wanted to go find some… ‘douchebag’ to break your heart,” he muttered between missteps.

“I figure I have all week for that,” I sighed, leaning forward in the hope that it would lead to him holding me closer. When it did, I realized that I’d made a mistake. Because the second I was caught in that embrace, I knew I’d never want to leave.

“You never know when someone might come snatch you away from me,” I whispered into his shoulder that smelled of sunscreen and home.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be around,” he reassured me.

I wanted to believe it. I wanted to think that he would always be there. But the truth was that it wouldn’t be fair to him. I wasn’t what he needed and we both knew it.

Spencer Reid had enough pain and heartbreak to last a lifetime. The last thing he needed was another mess.

“Come on,” I said as cheerily as I could with the regretful thoughts demanding my attention, “Let’s go to the beach.”

And as usual, he didn’t put up a fight. He just followed me with that same solemn smile and his hand holding onto mine for dear life.

Despite the setting, (y/n) reminded me more of a faerie or a sprite rather than a mermaid. I decided this after about the third hour of watching her prance along the beach. Between the radiant smile and laugh that seemed never-ending and the way her skin was already practically glowing from the kiss of the sun, it was impossible to draw any other conclusion.

Then again, the way she managed to drag me out into the ocean was definitely siren-like. There were few other explanations for how she could convince me to step into the vast unknown that was the ocean.

That being said, I didn’t regret it. Not even a little bit. How could I when it made her so happy? Even as the waves pummeled us until we were rolling along with them, she never stopped smiling. She’d emerge from the depths with an excited shriek before clinging to me like she was a second skin.

She said it was just because I was taller, but we both knew she was a better swimmer. I let the horrible excuse go because I really, really didn’t want her to let go. Even after my skin started to turn red under the ruthless star, I didn’t want to leave if it meant I would have to exist without her holding me anymore.

But, of course, eventually she tired herself out so much that even I couldn’t keep her up. We still took our time drying off and settling back onto land. We reminded ourselves just how different things were out here, separate but still together. I still didn’t feel lonely, though. I couldn’t when she refused to let go of my hand the entire way back to the hotel. She didn’t have the excuse of the waves anymore. She didn’t have any excuse at all, actually. I don’t think she needed one, either.

Once we got back to the hotel, though, we had to split up. Our showers seemed so long, even though I knew realistically that we had taken the usual amount of time one would expect for two tired sand-covered people. I just wanted to see her again. Every second away from her was agony.

Not that it was all that different from the time I spent with her. Loving someone unattainable is pretty goddamn exhausting. And as it turned out, I wasn’t the only one feeling that way.

“I’m exhausted!” she whined as she threw herself directly into the middle of my bed, “The sun drained me.”

And of course, in my traditional fashion, I couldn’t be normal for five seconds in response to what was definitely not meant to be a question. So, I immediately burst into a rant to distract myself from the fact that not only was she laying on my bed, but she was also doing so in the tiniest pajamas I’ve ever seen in my entire life.

“It’s actually really fascinating why that happens. Aside from the usual predictions like dehydration and overexertion, the sun also makes you tired because the warmth increases your heart rate and metabolic rate, even if you’re just sitting. And that’s not even considering the sudden introduction of melatonin after you’re removed from the sunlight.”

There were only a couple of avenues to take in response to my nonsense. She could, as usual, acknowledge and dismiss what I’d said, or, if she felt particularly brave, she could engage. The former usually came with a bit of a sting, but this time was… different.

“Come lay down,” she slurred.

“With… you?”

She gave a breathy, sultry chuckle as she responded, “Is there someone else here?”

But I couldn’t, right? She couldn’t mean it. It had to be a joke. Why would she want me to lay with her? I mean, she was in my bed. But still — was this a pity thing? There were a million insecurities bubbling to the surface, and I almost listened to them.

Almost.

All it took was one powerful enough thought to overtake everything else. It was the simple and overwhelming realization that this might be my only chance. There were certainly few other opportunities like this one, with her sleepily begging me to join her while she writhed around on the sheets that I’d brought to replace the hotel issue.

She didn’t know that part about me and hotels. She’d never stayed in my room long enough to find out. She’d definitely hadn’t laid in it, and definitely not with me there, too. So I did it. I seized the day and literally every ounce of confidence I could muster in my body and I joined her.

… Kind of.

Although I didn’t lay down with her, I sat on the edge of the bed. It was close enough that I hadn’t outright rejected the offer, but far enough away that I could test the waters and ensure she really knew what she was requesting. It became very clear to me very quickly, however, that she knew exactly what she was doing. She also made sure I knew that she did not appreciate my hesitance.

With both hands, she grabbed hold of my arm and used all of her strength to literally drag me into the center of the bed. Between my nervous, awkward laughter, I somehow managed to scramble up onto the mattress before she dislocated my shoulder in her insistence.

Once I was there, though, I couldn’t laugh anymore. I couldn’t breathe. My lungs had completely given up any semblance of functioning the second she rolled over to face me. Our noses brushed against one another and her breath fanned over my lips. She smelled of mint and purity, and I was losing any control I had managed to maintain this far.

But while my eyes were stuck on her, she looked away from me with no effort at all. I guess she decided that there were better places to be, because she sunk into the sheets and nuzzled her face into my chest so quickly that I almost worried she’d slip from my arms entirely. But she didn’t. She stayed there, pressing her ear against my chest and undoubtedly being deafened by the pounding of my heart.

“Wow. You are warm,” I nervously chuckled, hoping to muffle the sound.

“So are your hands. Still,” she mumbled back without budging at all.

I could say the same for the lump in my throat, which refused to move no matter how hard I tried to clear my throat. Deciding that I’d rather suffer than disturb the girl half-asleep on my chest, I just croaked out a weak, “So what now?”

“We still have to watch Tarzan,” she grumbled. It was admirable, really, how dedicated she was to the half-baked plan, considering I could practically hear her snoring.

“Are you actually going to be able to stay awake that long?”

“Of course. I’m an adult,” she sneered, “I don’t need naps.”

Unsurprisingly, she was wrong. So wrong in fact that by the time the first music note hit, she was already fast asleep. It bothered me less than I thought it would. In fact, the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest were even more comforting than the gentle thrum of the musical score.

I drew the rest of the words against her skin with gentle strokes across her back, wondering how in the hell a cartoon about a man convinced he was a gorilla could so perfectly describe the strength contained in the woman in my arms.

Because there was nothing that I wanted more than to protect her. I wanted to keep her right there, the one place I could shield her from any of the men who wouldn’t love her right. I wanted to feel her breath against my neck and her heart gently matching with mine.

I took in the moment to the best of my ability. I barely watched the movie, too caught up in the sight of her at her most vulnerable. I selfishly wished she would realize just how much better she slept in my arms and want to do it more often. But I knew that was silly. She was just tired from the beach.

This was a once in a lifetime event, and I needed to remember that. But it was so hard to not wish for more. To not hope and pray and beg whatever gods that might exist to recreate this moment over, and over, and over again.

But of course, it didn’t work. After a while, she started to stir in my arms just enough to alert me that she’d woken up.

“Is the movie over?” she said through a dramatic yawn. After that was done, though, she just returned to her previous position with her cheek pressed tightly against my chest. That was, until I regretfully caught her attention with the honest answer.

“It ended… an hour ago, yeah.”

She shot up so quickly that our faces almost collided. I prevented disaster by a couple of seconds and a few laughs at the state of her hair after she’d fallen asleep in such a ridiculous angle. I was sure mine was just as bad, but she was too sleepy to notice.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” she whined like it was all some massive inconvenience instead of exactly how I’d wanted to spend the entire trip. Luckily for me, I didn’t have to tell her that. I had a fantastic explanation that also doubled as the perfect cover.

“If you’ve been asleep for longer than 30 minutes, you shouldn’t wake up until after the 90 minute mark so your body is able to complete one sleep cycle, so you don’t wake up feeling groggy.”

“I don’t know…” she trailed off. I saw the mischievousness forming in her eyes, but I was powerless to stop it. Per usual, I was weak to her whims. Then, with an accusatory yet playful tone, she snickered, “Spencer Reid, I think you enjoyed cuddling with me.”

When I scoffed, she took it as yet another challenge. This time there was no clever comeback or caution. No, she threw herself on top of me with enough force that her impact knocked the little air from my lungs.

“Admit it!” she dared. It wasn’t until I shook my head ‘no’ with my lips pursed shut that I realized our noses were touching.

“Fine,” she grumbled, narrowing her eyes to focus more on the impossibly close quarters. Whatever she found there must have been convincing, because she let out an exasperated sigh before she conceded with one final threat. “Your secret is safe with me.”

My hands made their way to her waist without my instruction, but I wouldn’t have stopped them even if I could have. The little gasp of breath she took in response fueled something dangerous in me. I felt the familiar tightness forming, but couldn’t bring myself to make her move. She was still on all fours, hanging her face above mine and letting the cutest little flush form over her cheeks. I had to wonder if it was from the position or because she felt that feeling, too.

Regardless, I had to do something to break us from this moment before something happened that I would regret.

“I appreciate your discretion,” I finally replied in a register lower than I’d expected. The rumble it produced in my throat was just enough to make my mouth move closer to her. But just before they touched, just before she closed her eyes and gave in my prayers, she turned away.

Barely audible and entirely out of breath, she quickly rasped, “I’m starving.”

The disappointment I felt wasn’t nearly as suffocating as I thought it would be. Because as much as I’d rather have kissed her and consumed her until there was nothing left of us, I knew we’d have to face the real world again eventually. And I still had the rest of the trip left, right? There would be other nights.

Right?

“Let’s get food,” she said as she stood up, leaving my bed a little bit colder in her absence.

I shouldn’t have been surprised when it stayed that way. If I’d really wanted her to come crawling back to my bed that night, I should have begged her to. But I didn’t. I gave her the space I assumed she’d need and simply enjoyed her presence from whatever distance she created.

Still, I couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief when she wished me goodnight and left the door between us open.

There would be other nights.

Right?

I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life. I’m not really sure why I decided to pursue some of them. Most of them, really. But there is always this feeling deep in my gut that tells me the mistake is inevitable. So certain, so sure, that the energy taken to try to avoid it would be even more fruitless than my attempts to pick up the disaster in its wake.

I’ve made a lot of mistakes. It was inevitable one would happen this week.

But something about this time was different. Normally when I had someone else on my bed, I was at least able to enjoy the warmth of their skin pressed against mine. His hand on my back should have been comforting, a reminder that for the brief period of time that he stuck around, I wouldn’t be alone. This encounter would be the glue holding together the broken pieces I barely recognized as myself anymore. I’d done it so many times before.

So why did his hands feel so cold? Why were his fingertips sharp despite dull nails, and why did the gruff sound of his voice whispering my name feel the same as metal scraping against a chalkboard?

He didn’t kiss me, and for once I realized that I didn’t want him to.

With one hand against his chest, I applied just enough pressure to hopefully catch his attention. When nothing changed, my voice came out, too meek and too scratchy to sound like an order.

“Actually, I don’t think I—”

He kissed me then, but the alcohol on his tongue tasted more like acid.

“Wait,” I mumbled, pulling my face away but still able to feel where he had touched me. Louder and harder, I cried, “Stop, I just—!”

His hand grabbed hold of mine, and for a brief second, I realized why they felt so cold. My mind replayed Spencer’s palm pressed against mine. I thought about how perfectly they interlocked. It’s cheesy to say it was like the pieces of a puzzle, and truthfully, it isn’t entirely true.

Because puzzles have imperfections. Our hands didn’t.

But my hands were pinned against the bed under someone else. I looked into his eyes and I saw something that terrified me. I saw myself, splayed out with a self-inflicted vulnerability. I looked away because the darkness felt less painful than facing myself. I wanted to close my eyes, but I couldn’t. They were too busy, too stuck on the soft yellow glow coming from under the door.

I heard my name, but it sounded so far away. It sounded wrong. It hurt. The hands on my body felt like scratches on a sunburn that didn’t exist. My lungs filled with the smell of regrets that I still had the chance to end if I could just make myself move.

“Please!” I croaked, and something in the way he returned a laugh told me that he was choosing to interpret the desperation as the opposite of how it was intended.

Self-preservation was a powerful thing. Self-hatred was stronger. Until that night, I was convinced that there was nothing strong enough to combat it.

But then the light flickered away, drowning me in a darkness and pain so overwhelming, the fire in my stomach burned through my throat until the words burst out like plumes of smoke.

“I said stop!”

My eyes snapped back up to meet a disgusted rage in a stranger’s eyes, snuffing out the newfound confidence and leaving me paralyzed underneath him once again.

“I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to yell,” I blubbered, regretting the words before they ever even touched my tongue, “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have—”

I hated that I meant them, and I hated that he knew that. But to his credit, he abandoned me almost immediately. I realized that his hands weren’t as cold as I’d previously thought, and a guilt shrouded my thoughts and prevented me from noticing the way the light in the room next door had turned back on.

“I’m sorry. I just… I don’t really feel well. I guess the sun and alcohol aren’t a good mix,” I joked, chasing after the wrong person out of fear and shame and something else.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, gathering his things with a haste that hurt me even though I wanted it to be over faster.

My thoughts ran separate from my mouth, pathetic pleading to the man already halfway out the door, “Maybe I can call you later.”

The door slammed shut just hard enough to rattle the paintings practically nailed to the wall. I wondered if it was possible that the force was also the reason tears dripped from my chin, but I knew I couldn’t blame him for that.

It was my fault. I made a mistake. And this time, I had an audience.

My eyes fell to the sliver of light still peeking under the door beside me and I felt the nausea crash into me much like the waves against the shores we shared together earlier. The seasickness spread, making my vision rock and my breath catch as I suffocated under the weight of what I’d done.

With my hands and forehead pressed against the door, I hoped he’d be able to hear me when I quietly called, “Spencer? A-Are you still awake?”

Silence followed, but I could still hear him within it. I could hear him weighing his options, trying to decide whether it was worth it.

Eventually, he answered, “The door is still unlocked on my side.”

“Oh… Right,” I breathed, letting numb fingers flip the latch and pull the door open to reveal his, still slightly ajar, just as we’d left it before.

At first, all I saw was an empty room. It wasn’t until I pushed the heavy door open that I spotted him, his forearm pressed against the wall and his head resting on it. But the most painful thing about it all was the way his chest heaved with heavy breaths that sounded just like mine had earlier. Like he was still caught in the fray he hadn’t really been a part of.

I don’t know what made my arms seek him out, but they did, wrapping around him despite tremors and trepidation. Spencer didn’t move; his body remained frozen in place but still shaking until he let out a deep breath that felt connected to my own lungs.

Then, he turned within my embrace, enclosing me in a familiar warmth that extended beyond the physical. His fingers, while undoubtedly tighter and more insistent in their grip on my shirt, didn’t hurt.

It felt… safe, which was terrifying in an entirely different way.

“Do you want to watch another Disney movie?” I heard myself ask, muffled in the soft fabric of his shirt.

Again, Spencer paused, his answer coming slow and strained. “Sure,” was all he said. But there was another answer in the way his hands never completely left me, lingering on my arm and guiding me with absolutely no signs of force until we both stumbled into his bed.

Within his hold, there was nothing but a comfort that induced its own guilt from my selfish indulgence in him.

And I thought to myself: Why do I do this? Why let myself feel something that could never actually be mine?

“Are you okay?”

The question caught me off guard, and I opened my eyes to see Spencer staring back at me from the other pillow.

“What?” The syllable broke in my mouth, and I cleared my throat before I continued, “What do you mean?”

“I heard you... you…” he crackled. The words must have stung him as harshly as they hit me, because he never finished the thought. Instead, he pulled me tighter to him until there was no avoiding the red-rimmed eyes that were still filled with nothing but empathy as he repeated, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied. He knew it was a lie, but he didn’t say anything. He held the words back with his tongue between his teeth and his jaw steeled shut.

“You know how I am,” I laughed nervously, “Can’t really blame him for leaving, can I?”

Spencer’s nostrils flared and his teeth ground together. The tension permeated every inch of him, but he never let me feel the pain that forced the words between still tight teeth, “That wasn’t your fault,” he said, “It is always okay to change your mind.”

Butterflies flooded the spaces that desperately craved air, leaving me only able to shrug unsurely before I whispered, “I guess.”

“It is,” he said again, the words harder to ignore when they were spoken with his whole body holding me like I was made of already cracked glass, “Always.”

I bit down on my lip and tried to laugh, but all that came out were almost silent sobs. He caught the tears that flowed down cheeks still hot from the sun and embarrassment, but he had no air in his lungs, either. Together, we struggled to find oxygen in the too-small room, knowing damn well that breaking apart would be easier, but not wanting to let go.

Somewhere within the battle of wills and worn out hearts, I managed to slur, “I’m sorry, Spencer.”

He waited until I was comfortably nestled against him, my face hidden from him while his hard-beating heart beat clearly against my ear. It wasn’t until he knew I could feel the way it sped up when he asked, “For what?”

“Everything.”

There was no verbal answer provided, and I told myself that the fact he didn’t let me go was already more than I deserved.

I’d always hated the beach. The sand stuck to everything, and the crashing of the waves, the incessant cawing of the seagulls, and the chatter of tourists created a cacophony of sound that I’d simply rather be without.

But I had never come to the beach at night, and I had never come to the beach with her.  It took less than an hour for me to fall in love with the rumbling water that seemed farther away when the sun wasn’t glaring off of it.

The moonlight, pale and unforgiving, was drawn only to the woman lying beside me on the blanket. I was so lost in the way her profile somehow seemed flawless that when she turned to see me, I didn’t even try to hide my shameless staring. A gentle curve appeared on her lips, and I couldn’t decide if it was because she was flattered or uncomfortable. She looked too beautiful for me to think it was the latter.

“Tell me something about the stars,” she said, breaking the silence and drawing my attention back to the sky if only for a second.

“Like what?” I asked. There was so much to say, but my breath seemed better spent on her than the fiery gases light years away. I looked back at her, and her following words reflected what I saw.

“Something beautiful.”

She didn’t expand on the thought, and I followed her eyes to the sky and considered what natural wonder might compare to the vision next to me.

“Okay… Well, you see that star?” I settled, scooting closer to her and tilting my head to the side so that we were almost touching.

“I think so?” she laughed as she closed the few inches between our shoulders. “The one that looks brighter than rest.”

“That’s Sirius A, meaning ‘glowing’ or ‘scorching.’ It’s also been designated ‘canis majoris.’ It’s the brightest star in our sky, only outshined in our perceptions by the full moon and the International Space Station. But in reality, it is more than twenty times brighter than our sun. It just doesn’t feel that way, since it’s 8.6 light years away. Which is actually pretty close, considering.”

Normally when I talked this much, people would either tune out or tell me to shut up. (Y/n) wasn’t most people. Not only did her eyes stay wide and full of wonder fixed to the sky, but her hand also strayed over my lap until she found mine to hold on to.

After only a little bit of hesitation, I took the offer. She laced her fingers between mine like they were always meant to be there before whispering, “Keep going.”

I wished she wasn’t talking about the stars. I wished she was talking about us. But I knew better than to assume that, and so I continued with my impromptu astronomy lesson.

“It was one of the oldest recognized stars, and ancient civilizations like the Greeks and Polynesians used it to track the progression of Summer. It’s actually where the term ‘dog days’ comes from. It was the entire basis for the Egyptian calendar, although they called it ‘the Nile star.’”

“A star by any other name,” she interrupted with a goofy smile.

She was the only person who could interrupt me as much as she did and yet never hurt my feelings. It was like it was her way of showing that she was still listening. I wouldn’t complain even if it wasn’t. I just loved hearing her voice, especially half-breathless and threaded with laughter.

“Exactly,” I mumbled, even though what she’d said made little sense in the context. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was her smile that never waned, even as I continued. “That star was what would signal the rising of the river that would revitalize their lands. A symbol of hope and life.”

“What a well-loved star,” she sighed. The sound reminded me of the waves still rolling in the distance. I wanted to stop the lecture and point it out to her, but I was worried that comparing her to something as vast as the ocean might come off differently than I intended.

But what I really meant was that she was so breathtakingly beautiful. So full of life and strength and perseverance. I wanted to liken her to the ocean because of the way I found myself caught in the riptide of her. The way I had been lost in her since the moment I met her.

I stayed there; my mind stuck in the gravitational pull of her until she tore me away from it with a question I would’ve already answered if I hadn’t been distracted.

“Does it have any planets?”

I cleared my throat and my mind before I gracelessly answered, “No. Well, probably not. We aren’t really sure, but it’s probably too young for that.”

“How lonely,” she mumbled back. The answer turned her smile to a frown, and I tried not to blame the stupid star for making her sad. I didn’t stop myself from blaming the people who had hurt her, though. There was nothing to stop me from resenting anyone who ever made her feel alone.

I just needed to show her that even when it felt that way, she wasn’t. I squeezed her hand just hard enough that she broke from her reverie. She didn’t look at me, though, and I had my suspicions that she didn’t want me to see the sadness in her eyes.

“It’s not exactly lonely,” I explained, hoping that the literal truth might serve as some sort of metaphor, “It has a companion star, although astronomers didn’t find it until much later. And one day it’ll probably have planets that orbit it, too. Just like ours.”

Just like us, I wanted to say, but I was scared to be too bold.

I’m right here, I called to her from my thoughts when she turned to face me. Our noses were almost touching, and I felt that same soft breath ghost over my lips as she spoke words I could barely understand over the sound of my heartbeat.

“Do you think people will lay on the beaches of those planets and tell beautiful stories about our sun?” she whispered into the little space that remained between us.

“If they’re lucky,” I replied, my words crackling like softwood in a fire.

Be bold, something in me called, or be quiet forever. And I must have lost my mind, because I wanted to listen to it. I watched as her gaze bounced between my lips and my eyes, and I swore I heard her giving the same desperate plea.

Be bold right now, it said even louder, or be quiet forever.

“If they’re really, really, lucky…” my voice trailed off, but my free hand found its way to her cheek that was still warm from the earlier sun. As I stroked her cheek, she came closer, her lips just barely touching mine as I finished, “they’ll find someone even more beautiful to share that moment with.”  

I think that she smiled in response, but I couldn’t be sure. Because as soon as she had the chance, she closed the space between our lips. Just like that, she kissed me like it was the most natural thing in the world. She let go of my hand, but only so she could lace her fingers through my hair and pull me closer. That action alone made me gasp, and she took full advantage of the opportunity by sneaking her tongue between my parted lips.

Meanwhile, my hands struggled to decide how to hold her. Eventually, they settled on not holding her at all. Instead, the two of us rolled until I had her pinned beneath me on the blanket. I would’ve felt bad about the escalation if she hadn’t already wrapped her legs around my waist like the cutest little koala. Her whole body clung to me the same as the sand, and I found myself hoping that I would also find her everywhere.

The first time she moaned into my mouth, my heart nearly stopped. It sounded so much smaller than I imagined, so gentle and shy and not at all like the rest of her. I wanted to hear it again, and again, and again, until it echoed in my mind like the crashing of the waves.

“Spencer,” she purred against my lips before she even took a breath. That sound was even more beautiful than the last. Her hands, too, were wandering from my hair down my back. She arched her own until our chests touched, and I wondered if she could feel the way my heart reached out for her.

I didn’t trust myself to say her name without it sounding like, ‘I love you,’ so I kissed her, instead. I kissed her with all of the passion and admiration that had stayed locked inside of my chest for over a year, and suddenly I wondered how it had ever fit. There was no stopping it anymore. I didn’t want to.

I didn’t want to stop kissing her, but I had to. Like every supernova in the endless oblivion, the moment reached its inevitable end gracelessly and with a bang. This bang, though, was actually the persistent blaring of a car alarm somewhere in the distance. Although not deafening, it was enough to shake us both from the moment.

The two of us had already reacted exactly like our job had prepared us to when we realized that we hadn’t driven to the beach. By that point, it didn’t matter that it wasn’t our car, because the momentum had come to a screeching halt.

“We should probably head back, huh?”

She said it so nonchalantly that I wondered if she could still feel me on her lips the way I still felt her on every inch of my body. She wasn’t even looking at me, her eyes stuck to the blanket as she fiddled with her top and her hair and tried to pretend like nothing had happened. Like we hadn’t just lost ourselves so much in each other that we forgot all about the stars.

“I have sand on basically every inch of my body,” she chuckled as she brushed the particles off of her. It felt like she was trying to do the same to me.

“Yeah, sure,” I forced the words out like they didn’t hurt, “Let’s head back.”

I used to love this part of the beach. After spending all day in sand and sun, I looked forward to stepping into the shower and watching the evidence of a day well spent flowing down the drain. It felt cleansing. It made me feel new.

But this time, there was no relief as sand fell and disappeared at my feet. Because in that moment, all I saw were failed attempts to wash Spencer from my skin. A fruitless attempt to force myself to forget the way it felt when he kissed me.

It felt wrong.

The plushness of the robe didn’t feel like a comfort or a luxury. It felt like a costume, an attempt to hide away and hope that Spencer wouldn’t see just how hard I’d tried to avoid this exact situation.

But the second I stepped over the threshold into his room, I couldn’t avoid the truth. His eyes roamed over the exposed skin of my legs but stopped on my face. He looked at me, unlike any man I’d ever met. So full of such a pure adoration that it made my chest ache. It reminded me of just how lonely it felt when he wasn’t there.

I approached him with steps full of trepidation but lacking any regret. How could I think this was wrong when my legs moved towards him without my permission. My body sought him out so clearly and strongly that I couldn’t deny myself the pleasure derived from his company.

So why was it that my hands reached out, but stopped before they touched him? They stayed suspended just beside his face, begging him to do something to take the last step to close the distance between us.

He didn’t. His hands came to mine just as slowly as I’d come to him, and he led them away from his face and down to his chest. Silently, he pressed our hands against his heart like the harsh beating held a morse code message for me. Words in a language I didn’t understand.

I was so frustrated that I had to bite my tongue to hold back tears that slipped out, anyway. That was the only thing that tore Spencer’s hands away from mine. He wiped them away with so much tenderness I could only cry harder. Gentleness was such a foreign feeling that my body must have mistaken it for pain.

A different kind of pain. An ache that I wanted to throw myself into and drown in. A feeling so overwhelming that there was nothing else except for the two of us, lost at sea and hoping to never find land again.

“Break my heart, Spencer,” I whispered, surprised to hear my own voice but glad to have broken the silence. “Kiss me again.”

I could see the thoughts behind glassy eyes, that same desire to let go of the control and the fear. But his words betrayed those thoughts, and with a sad, pathetic voice, he answered, “I… can’t.”

I felt my dreams slipping through my fingers, even though my hands held tightly to his shirt. Everything I’d ever feared was coming to life in front of my eyes, and I tried to fight the inevitable with everything I had.

“Why not?” I begged in the form of a question.

“Because it means something to me,” he replied, and I felt the familiar words like a punch in the gut. I’d felt them before, but he still felt the need to explain it to me like it wasn’t currently tearing my soul apart at the seams, “Kissing you means too much to me.”

I laughed. It was a breathy, exhausted chuckle that made his frown falter for just one self-pitying second before our eyes locked again and he saw the full force of the feeling behind it.

“Then do it,” I said with an almost silent whine, “Please.”

I should’ve known better. It would take more to convince him than thinking things really hard. But the mere thought of spilling my heart out to him was its own kind of paralyzing. My mouth wouldn’t move, and while his lips opened and closed, he also couldn’t make the words come through. Until they did, weak and scratchy.

“I can’t do it unless… It means something to you, too.”

The words, spoken by a bona fide genius, were simply too stupid to acknowledge. I couldn’t even formulate enough words to explain just how ignorant they were. So I didn’t even try to string together a sentence filled with the frustration and admiration I felt for this absolute idiot in front of me. No, I just forced my way through the little space left between us until our lips met again.

They were so much shier this time, our hands inching by instead of flowing freely over one another. His breath came out hard, and our cheeks slid against one another with salty tears. They were the evidence of how much our bodies were overflowing with love, unable to contain the feeling any longer.

The kiss was shorter, too. It ended abruptly, with my lips breaking away to take in a shaky breath and force out an answer, just in case he needed it. Because he deserved to hear it.

“It does mean something to me. It always would have.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” he whined back, his pitch wavering with his hands that still weren’t entirely comfortable holding me like this.

I thought about the question because I didn’t know the answer. I closed my eyes hoping that it might clear my mind and make it easier, but even then, all I saw was him. I was faced with all the lies I’d told myself to keep us apart. There was no denying that I’d loved him for a long time, and if I was really being honest, I’d seen that same love reflected in his eyes. But I ran away from it and into someone else’s arms. Always someone who I knew would never look at me like he did.

Then the words came, through small sobs and with a life-altering wave of relief. The truth came out, genuine and untainted and raw.

“We accept the love we think we deserve.”

And he tried to accept the answer. He tried to see what I saw in myself, but his eyes were too clouded, too colored to see me exactly how I was to him. He looked at me like I was perfect exactly as I existed in that moment, because to him, I was.

“You deserve so much better than that.”

Those were the last words he spoke to me before our bodies crashed together like waves on the shore, always returning to kiss the surface of sand that would mix with the water to create something new. Spencer didn’t just kiss me. There was something else there, too, something deeper than a meeting of mouths.

For once, I didn’t try to identify it. I let the feeling flow through me, opening my mouth to him and feeling the way our bodies started to tangle together faster with each passing second. I barely registered his hands tearing my robe open, noting how I didn’t feel even the slightest tinge of fear as I stood bare before him.

His arms wrapped around my waist felt more comforting than any fabric, and when he spun us around, I fell back onto the sheets trusting that he would follow me. Which, he did… after he took a few seconds to appreciate the sight he’d worked so hard to have displayed for him. But seconds were all that he allowed himself, with hands too excited to find me again.

We tore the last barriers away in a mess of clothing and covers until we were back to where we were on the beach, with him hovering above me and protecting me from everything else. Within the confines of his arms, I felt safe in a way I’d never experienced before. My breath got faster to match my heart, and Spencer must have seen the way it made me shake. Because he kissed me again, returning me back to equilibrium before he spoke the unavoidable truth again.

“You’ve never let anyone love you right.”

But the meaning behind the words was lost on me, my mind too stuck on one word to move past it. My thoughts paused, but my body continued to explore the way it felt to slide against his. Somehow, my skin burned hotter with each second I got closer to asking him the question I needed him to answer.  

“You… love me?” I finally said aloud, granting myself the grace to stop all movements while I waited for his response. It came seconds later, with a full-hearted enthusiasm presented with a little bit of a laugh.

“Yes,” he whispered through it all, “I love you.”  

I bit down on my lip, but the laughter came through, anyway.

“You love me?” I asked again, just hoping to hear it again.

Spencer understood the request, and right before he kissed me again, he repeated the words. “I love you,” he said, again and again, each time our lips broke apart enough to allow him to speak.

“I love you,” he said for what must have been the millionth time before I could manage to return it.

My “I love you” was returned through uncontrollable giggles, urged on by his lips tickling my neck and his hand working its way over my stomach with soft, barely-there touches. There was so much joy, so much love, that by the time his hand landed between my legs, I’d almost forgotten what was going to happen.

It had never been like this before.

Everything shifted when he brushed knuckles over my sex, reminding me of what we were about to do. The laughter stopped, but it wasn’t replaced with an apprehension or sadness that I felt so often. It was pure, unadulterated joy so unfamiliar to me in this context that I’d almost interpreted it as a mistake.

But then he said it again.

“I love you,” he said, and the anxiety transformed to lust that couldn’t be sated by his finger delving between my folds. My back arched to meet him, and his mouth chased after my lips to make sure that we were never too far away from one another. The slow movement of his hand mimicked the softness of his tongue as we freely explored the new parts of each other.

“Please,” I slurred, earning a chuckle from the man above me.

He knew what I was asking for, and although his retreat was slow, it was in the best way. My body continued clinging to him for as long as I could, begging for his return however he would allow. When the head of his cock pressed against me, I felt my lungs cease all function. I froze, trying to memorize exactly what it felt like to be in this moment with him before everything changed.

“Spencer…” I sighed, relishing the way the name tasted on my tongue.

Before he began to sink into me, he gave me one last assurance. “I’ve got you,” he promised, “I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

And despite the words sounding so honest, I still had to ask, “Do you mean it?”

He didn’t mind. He never did. That impossible, wonderful man would sing my praises until his voice wore out and he was forced to write them on every surface he could find.

“God, yes, I would do anything to make you happy.”

The words were paired with more feathery kisses and an unbearable pressure as he entered me so slowly I thought I might scream. I tried to pull him forward, to bring us together faster, but Spencer stubbornly took his time. I could feel his lips curve into a smile against my throat that forced me to return my own, trusting that he would feel it all the same.

“You do,” I answered just in time to be cut off by his hips swiftly snapping forward, entering me with a momentum that carried through my whole body. A deep, guttural moan tore through my chest that so strongly contrasted all of the noises we’d made so far. It was a desperate, animalistic sound that demanded an equal energy from him.

It was a challenge that Spencer was ready to meet. He wasted no time in increasing the force behind each movement. With one hand resting against my cheek and the other digging into my hip, we continued to blend together into a new creature made up of cries of pleasure and overwhelming relief.

Each passing second felt like a lifetime that would still never be enough. There was so much happening that my mind couldn’t decide what to focus on, instead choosing to let my body act of its own accord and Spencer’s guidance.

It was… easy. He commanded each of my muscles with nothing more than a glance. Like he could feel every part of me. I swore it was like his soul held my heart in his hands, helping it beat in harmony with his own until we couldn’t tell them apart. He read my mind and answered all of the fears and the thoughts until there was nothing left but happiness and home.

He felt my ending before I’d even noticed it was approaching, and somehow, he created an even gentler touch as he asked, “Are you ready?”

There were no words I could say to explain the feeling, and I knew he didn’t need me to speak to understand, anyway. I nodded and let our lips catch together again as my body tensed around him.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, and I believed him.

I gave in to the pleasure and the safety of his embrace. Still, even in the greatest heights of pleasure, I never lost the clarity in how it felt to be held by him. When my vision went white, I saw his eyes in the light. My nails dug into his skin and pulled him over the edge with me until we were shaking messes of euphoria and catharsis.

His movements faltered as he filled me with a warmth that spread beyond the physical. I felt the very essence of our beings twine together so tightly that they would never be separated again. He found a home in me, and I held onto that feeling until our bodies collapsed together and brought us back to the hotel room bed.

But even as the yellow lights and strange artwork became obvious again, I didn’t feel any different than I had seconds before. Because that feeling wasn’t forged through atmosphere or alcohol, as it so often was for me.

I still felt at home because that was where I was.  

The feeling persisted even after we fell into bed together again, silent and seeking each other out among the sheets. His embrace was more insistent, hungrier in a strange contradictory way. I had a couple theories why, but I had the grace to let him off the hook… sort of.

“Alright. Admit it.”

“What?” he murmured into my shoulder, burrowing his face in my chest like he could actually melt into me if he tried hard enough. But he couldn’t hide from the I-told-you-so I was chasing.

“You know.”

“Fine,” he sighed after a moment of pouting that got him nowhere. “I like cuddling with you.”

“I knew it.”

“You did,” he happily chirped. If you’d told me even an hour before that Spencer would accept his defeat in grace, I would have never believed you. But there he was, openly admitting that I had been right all along while proving my point.

I pried him away from my chest because I needed to prove to myself that it was all real. That Spencer Reid had really told me that he’d loved me. I needed to see the love in his eyes to convince myself that happiness was really possible and within my grasp. And when he looked up at me, he told me all of that and more with a dopey, lovesick smile.

“I…” The words caught in my throat, fighting past one last obstacle. My heart stubbornly held its final wall up, trying to prevent me from giving Spencer all of me.

But I wanted to. I wanted him to see the ugly because I knew he would still find it beautiful. I wanted him to feel the weight I’d carried for so long because, despite skinny arms and a fit test that would beg to differ, I knew he was strong enough to carry it.

“I didn’t realize it could be like this,” I finally admitted, smashing through the theoretical brick to find Spencer patiently waiting on the other side with open arms.

“That’s okay,” he promised, “I’ll never let you forget it.”

(Tell me what you thought of this fic here!)

[metalbuckaroo]

Sweet Pea Pt. 10

Summary: Your father is the leader of a biker gang, you got out and moved away, years later you return searching someone out with only one person to turn to. (I suck at summaries sorry)

Warnings: lil smutty, fluff, cursing, tobacco use

AU: Beefy Biker Bucky x Reader

AN: Not gonna lie, feel like this one kinda sucks but needed to get this part out so im sorry. Requests always open! Reblogs and feedback appreciated!

SWEET PEA MASTERLIST

Gif not mine

You were laid in bed with Bucky on his front between your legs, his head resting against your chest, his fingers rubbing small shapes into the skin of your sides as a movie played on the TV.

Your concentration was pulled away from the movie TV when you felt the weight of his head move and your shirt being pushed up.

Another week had passed of enjoying the simple things with Bucky, coffee and sleepy kisses when you'd wake up, rides to and from work on the back of his bike, and days like this of laying around.

Bucky had moved the TV stand so you could see it from the bed since he was too large to lay on the couch with you.

He'd always grumble about being uncomfortable when he'd try to fit his broad frame on the small couch, legs hanging over the arm as he shifted around until you would pinch him for crushing you.

He peppered kisses along the waistband of your underwear, moving his hands to have you bend your knees.

"Buck, I'm trying to watch this." You sighed, closing your eyes when you felt his fingers brush against your underwear.

"There's a pause button." He muttered, sitting up to tug your underwear down your legs. "Just can't keep my hands off you, sweet pea."

You moaned when he slid his middle and ring finger into you, his head tilted to the side and bottom lip bit between his teeth.

"Buck..." You whined, his fingers curling up into your g-spot. "Love when you say my name." He breathed, watching his digits slide in and out of you.

A few more pumps and a brief kiss to your clit and you fell apart, moaning softly as pleasure coursed its way through your body.

Sitting up, Bucky sucked his fingers clean, moaning lowly as he moved to sit back against the headboard and strip himself of his boxers.

"C'mere, sugar." His husky voice pulled you from your daze, shifting so you straddled his hips as he fisted over his dick a few times.

"Want you to ride me." He said watching as you pulled your shirt off.

You nodded, planting your hands on his shoulders as you sunk down on him, every inch of him bringing a new shock of pleasure.

It was slow paced, like many times had been over the last week.

Filled with loving kisses, roaming hands, and sensual sounds as he helped guide your hips, just enjoying the feeling of each other.

Bucky's words alone nearly had you coming undone, mumbling praises as he watched every movement you made, the swirling in his stomach starting when you whimpered his name.

He rubbed small circles against your clit and rolled his hips into you, helping to work you towards your orgasm. "Just like that, pretty girl. Want you to cum for me again so I can fill you up."

Cupping his face in your hands you captured his lips in yours, a second orgasm searing it way through you as he swallowed your breathy moans.

One last roll of your hips and he was painting your walls with his thick release, letting out soft grunts as his fingers dug into your hips.

His large hands glided up your back as you laid against his chest, leaving goosebumps in their path. "Wanna order take out?"

You nodded your head lightly and he planted a kiss to the top of your head, giving your ass a soft slap. "You take the first shower and I'll call."

After ordering, Bucky got a beer and sat on the couch, Sam's number showing on his phone screen.

"Yeah?" He said when he answered. "Hey, I'm in town. Where are you?"

He furrowed his eyebrows and lit a cigarette, leaning back into the couch. "Uh, New York. Figured Steve told you."

"New- Bucky, you didn't. Tell me you're not there for the reason I think you are." Sam groaned through the speaker. "If you're reason involves a certain person, then yes, I am."

"We're gonna talk about this in person, text me the address. I'll be there tomorrow."

Rolling his eyes as if Sam could actually see him, Bucky agreed before hanging up.

"Who was that?" You asked as you walked out of the bathroom.

"Just Sam, said he's gonna come visit." He shrugged, watching you walk pass him.

"That's great, haven't seen him in years." You smiled, pulling one of Bucky's shirts on before leaning down to kiss the corner of his lips. "Now go shower before food gets here."

By the time Bucky had showered and the two of you ate, you were called into work which led to a grumpy Bucky putting a helmet on your head before you got on his bike behind him.

"Shit." You cursed under your breath when you saw a familiar face standing in the diner.

A date from months ago that you had never called back and ended up having to block his number. He had been insistent on a second date.

"What?" Bucky asked, holding the helmet you just took off in his lap.

"Just an old date that was shitty." You shrugged, pressing a kiss to his lips.

He grabbed your chin when you pulled back and slotted his lips over yours. "Call if you need me."

____

Lacey had given you a ride home from the diner, your body tired and ready to be engulfed in the strong arms belonging to Bucky as you toed your shoes off at the door.

"Tired..." You mumbled, shuffling over to where Bucky was sitting on the couch.

He stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray and pulled you onto his lap. "Have any problems?" He asked, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

"The cook had to kick him out because he wouldn't leave." You sighed, leaning into his warm body and closing your eyes.

He shifted and you opened them again, being met with a disapproving look. "I told you to call me."

You breathed a laugh and shook your head at him, reaching to hold his jaw and peck a kiss to his nose.

"It's fine, J.B. All handled." You assured, brushing your thumb over his frowning lips.

He huffed a breath and rolled his eyes. "Fine.

[unwantedtomost]

the night before — sebastian stan

sebastian stan x fem!reader

word count: 2,644 words

summary: you were invited to your ex’s wedding and despite all logical reasoning, you decided to go. now it’s the night before the wedding and you’re in the same night club with your ex. time to make some more mistakes.

warnings: angst, crying, cheating, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex.

a/n: i am going to make a part two because i want to explore this more. also, thank you so much for almost 500 notes on my first one shot! enjoy :)

The love of your life was getting married and it wasn’t to you. When you heard the news, you laughed out loud, a bit too loud for being in a quaint cafe. You thought that the girl Sebastian was dating was going to be nothing more than a rebound from you, even when you heard the news that they were engaged, you thought that it wasn’t serious. But now it’s the day before their wedding and you’re pretty sure she’s not a rebound anymore.

You wish you didn’t know what day the wedding was, but you did because you were invited. Sebastian invited you. What kind of asshole would do something like that? You know he saw it as taking the high road, being a bigger person, but it just came off as a pretentious douche bag move to show that he could be happy too. Without you. And how did this get past his fiance, Lauren? Did she want you to come?

You planned on not attending because why the fuck would you want to go? But then your friend, Emerson, talked you into it. “It’s in Hawaii,” “It’ll show him that you can still be friends,” “Rub it in their faces that you don’t care anymore.” They were all very shitty reasonings but you were drunk when you RSVP’d and even drunker when you booked the plane ticket. You had been drinking a lot in the weeks leading up to the wedding, it was the only thing that made all the nerves go away. You promised yourself that you would stop drinking so much after they were married and you intended on keeping that promise.

You had been trying your best to stay as far away from Sebastian as possible in the three-day period leading up to the wedding. It had been working well so far, until tonight. You and Emerson decided to go to a nightclub away from the resort you were staying at because you heard that that’s where the bachelor party was being held. Much to your surprise, that was false information. Now you’re starring at Sebastian from across the room with eyes wide and a jaw down to the floor.

“I thought you said they were gonna be at the resort!” You yelled at Emerson over the loud music.

“That’s what the bridesmaids told me,” she defended. “But it doesn’t even matter, we came out to have a good night. Fuck him! You can be nice tomorrow.”

You quickly started to regret every single one of your decisions you had made in the past three months. Accepting the invitation, booking the plane ticket, and leaving your hotel room tonight. You knew you shouldn’t be here but you were and you hated it.

“This was a mistake. I’m booking a plane ticket and I’m going back home. Tonight.”

“What?! You can’t do that.”

“The hell I can’t.” You grabbed your phone from your purse only to get it grabbed from your hand and shoved into Emerson’s pocket. “What the hell!”

“You’re not just going to leave.”

“Why not?”

“It’s been two years, y/n. You have been telling me that you’re finally over him for a year, that’s why we’re even here, right? Because you’re over him?”

You took in a shaky breath. No, you weren’t over him. You knew you should be, but you weren’t. You thought seeing him say “I do” would force you into moving on, finally letting him go. Now, you wanted to slap yourself for being so stupid.

“Yes,” you lie despite yourself.

“Good, so let’s go get you a drink and a hot piece of ass! And in the morning we’re going to watch as he gets married and you’re going to finally let go of him, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod.

You had to get over him, it had been two years. This was the way to do it. You would force yourself to let him go and be happy. That would make you happy … right?

You and Emerson walked to the bar, ordering shot after shot until you were dizzy. Then you ordered a long island ice tea which you did not need. After you basically chugged the drink, you made your way to the dance floor.

You changed from grinding on Emerson to random individuals and you couldn’t have cared less. Everything about tomorrow and moving on left your mind completely. Right now you were living in the moment, something you were always working to do. You could tell that the individual dancing behind you hadn’t switched for four songs, so you decided to turn around. You were hoping for it to be someone cute and nice. Someone to take you somewhere and fuck the worries away. Instead, it was Sebastian.

Your smile faded and so did his. You went still, your eyes trained on his. It felt weird to be the only people in the crowd not moving. You had lost all sense of anything, you didn’t know if you stood like that for seconds or for hours.

Something in your jumbled thoughts forced you to speak. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he yelled back. His face was unreadable at that moment, you blamed it on the alcohol but you weren’t sure if you could have deciphered what it meant even if you were sober. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah, a few months, I think.” You were sure, it had been four months prior, right before you heard about the engagement. You ran into each other at a red carpet event and you tried your best to act normal.

“Do you … uh—do you want to go get a drink?”

You stood still again, silent. Your brain needed a minute to process the request. You definitely did not need another drink. “Sure.”

You followed behind Sebastian to the bar, a trip you had made with Emerson no less than an hour ago. He ordered himself a Screwdriver and you a Sex on the Beach, your favorite. You had both sucked down half of your drinks before either of you spoke.

“How are you?” He asked.

“Fine, I guess,” you replied. “How are you?”

“Good, good, really good.”

“That’s good.”

It went quiet again and even though the music all around you was blaring, it sounded only like white noise at this point. A thought came into your mind “tell him how you feel.” In a sober state, you would have shut down the thought immediately, but now it played on a loop. The chant continued to play in your head as you finished the last of your drink. You felt the tension in your body rise from your feet to the pit of your stomach, up past your throat, and to your head, making you dizzy.

“Can I tell you something?” You blurted out.

“Sure.”

“It’s loud in here.”

Sebastian chuckled, almost in relief. “Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“No,” you said, too unaware to get how cringe-worthy you were being. “Can we go somewhere, uh, quieter?”

He nodded and you took his hand and went to go find a secluded location. You weren’t going to be that asshole who jammed the bathroom door shut. Also, you were pretty sure you’d get kicked out if you did that. It took a few minutes but you finally landed your sights on a room. The door was unlocked and you realized it was a coat closet, so you picked it as your location. You closed the door before turning back to Sebastian.

The music was quieter in here, it was muffled and far away. It smelled vaguely of cigarettes but you didn’t mind too much, it was dull.

“What did you want to tell me?” Sebastian asked, voice louder than it needed to be due to how unexpectedly quiet it was.

This was it, your one time to speak your mind. You might never get another situation like this ever again. You needed to let it all out.

“I don’t think I’m over you,” you confess. “And I really don’t know if I will ever be. I know it’s been two years and you’re getting married tomorrow, but I’m still not over you. I’ve been telling myself that when I see you at that alter tomorrow, everything is magically going to go away, but I don’t know if it will.”

“Why are you telling me this, y/n?”

“Because this is the one-shot I’m gonna get. You’re getting married tomorrow morning and you need to know this. Well, actually, you probably don’t, but I need to tell you. I need to let it out or otherwise, I think I might actually fucking explode.” You took a deep breath before the words started pouring out again. “When I heard you were engaged I laughed. It was funny that you were getting this poor girl’s hopes up when we all knew that you were just going to call it off. But you never did, and I was the only one laughing. I’m pretty sure that you were my person. And I think the only reason I accepted that we were done was because I didn’t think we were actually done. I thought you were gonna come back to me. I thought one day we would look back on this and laugh because it was so stupid.”

As you talked, your throat began to feel sore, your eyes stung from the tears forcing their way down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry about everything. I should have fought for us when we had the chance and I should give up right now and—”

Sebastian cut you off by cupping your face and wiping the tears away. “Hey, hey, hey,” he cooed softly, pulling you into him. You buried your face in his chest as he softly rubbed the back of your head. “It’s okay, you’re okay.”

His sweet tone made you cry harder. You wished he would have been mean. You wish he told you to get over it and move on. But he was sweet and consoling you because that’s the type of guy he was. He was the girl who consoled his ex-girlfriend on the night before his wedding. That’s the kind of guy girls want to marry, that’s the kind of guy you should have married. At least if he was an asshole, it would have easier to move on. No one gets hung up on the asshole, they get hung up over the good guy.

You pulled away from him, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand.

“Do you still love me?”

“Y/n…” he sighed.

“Tell me you don’t. God, please tell me you don’t. Tell me that you moved on and that you love her. Could you tell me that? Tell me that you never think twice about me and that you only invited me to your wedding because you honestly think we can be just friends. I need you to tell me you still don’t care. If you tell me that, I’ll walk out the door right now and you don’t ever have to see me again. I’ll wish you good luck on your marriage and I’ll be gone. Can you just tell me that? I really need you to tell me that.”

You looked up to him with pleading, puppy dog eyes. You wanted him—you needed him to tell you that it was never going to happen. You needed closure to move on.

“I-I can’t,” he confessed. “Not honestly.”

You let out a breath you were holding before pulling him closer. You kissed him deeply and passionately, you needed him. He pulled you closer, melting into your mouth. This was it, this felt right. You didn’t think about the repercussions, you couldn’t. All you could think about was his mouth on yours, his hands on your skin.

He backed you up so your back was flat against the door. The hand that wasn’t pulling you closer by the hip locked the door. He hoisted you up, seemingly with no effort as you wrapped your legs around his waist. You made haste with his button-up as he started to push your dress up your thighs. You stayed like that for a while, tugging, kissing.

After a while, Sebastian put you down. This made you nervous, was he going to leave you here? Was the kiss just one dumb, hot mistake?

Instead of walking away, he knelt down in front of you. He grabbed your panties and pulled them down your legs. You looked down at him and let out a moan at the sight of him; lips read and raw from kissing, eyes blown out with lust. He hiked your right leg over his shoulder before looking up at you, asking you if you wanted him to continue. You nodded aggressively, letting out a few whines of anticipation.

He dived in, sending you into a state of euphoria. You pressed your head against the door as your hands tugged at his jet black hair. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, trying your best to keep in whatever moans he coaxed out of you. You felt you were nearing your high, but he pulled away before you could get there.

You let out a cry at the loss of contact. You tryed your best to pull him back to you, but he instead pushed your hands away, pinning your wrists against the door. He stood back up, form towering over your own.

“You’re so fuckin’ needy,” Sebastian stated, voice low and raspy. He undid his pants before hosting you up against the door again. He pumped his member before putting the tip at your entrance, teasing you. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, pulling him closer by his shoulders. “Please, fuckin’ need you.”

With that, he pushed in, both of you letting out loud wanton moans. You forgot what is was like to be with him. He was on the bigger end of the men you’d been with and he was by far the best. As he thrusted into you, you started to realize how much you missed him every sense of the word. You missed the way he would kiss you in the morning, you missed the way he said he loved you in the middle of a fight, and you missed the way he grunted in your ear when you would have sex.

You both held each other close as he continued to snap his hips against yours. One of his hands reached down to rub your clit, making you let out another moan. You knew you were close again and you wondered how you could finish so fast when you were with him.

“I’m so close,” you warned.

“I know baby,” he cooed. “Wanna watch you.”

You leaned your head back so you could now see each others faces. He admired how you looked all fucked out and needy. He loved how your eye brows knitted together when you were trying not to cum and he loved the way you bit your lip every time he stared into your eyes. And he loved you.

“I love you, y/n,” he accidentally said, thoughts slipping into words.

Your eyes went wide but you couldn’t help but smile. “Fuck, I love you too, Seb.”

The confession brought you closer to your high and before you knew it, you were clutching his shirt in your hands as your legs cleanched around his waist. You both moaned loudly as you came, holding each other as close as possible. You stayed against the door, holding onto him tightly for a while. Then he slipped out of you and set you back down on shaky legs.

“Did you mean it?” You asked after minutes of staring into his eyes.

He hesitated, “yes.”

“Now what are we gonna do?”

[munsnz]

TRICKS OF LIFE — STEVE HARRINGTON

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐯. — 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞? Overview: Y/N tells Mike information to help their lost friend, she also heads to the search party for Will with Victor. As they explore, the past unravels and there is an odd occurrence that happens. Navigation & Mixtape

Tag: @samiyamuntaha @thepowerstoner @ughgclden @mqyfield @cooperdaysgf

“So right by Mirkwood right?” Mike Wheeler’s voice peeped after listening to Y/N’s remark of details about what she heard at the Hawkins Police Department a few hours ago. It was around 7 pm, right around to where the girl was getting ready prone to the search party being held with a few of the residents of the town.

Y/N hummed a positive response to clearing out his doubts just in case he was confused by any means, this wasn’t going to help Mike, it was going to help Will get a faster chance to be retrieved to his home again.

Although Hopper disapproved the request of letting young people in the search, Y/N and Victor were eventually allowed to come along, “Yeah, but remember you have to be somewhat far from the real search group okay? We don’t want you to get caught.”

”Mike! What are you doing?” Nancy’s faint voice was caught on the other line of the phone, leading Mike to leave the phone out, Y/N overhearing them argue over the dumbest things.

Prior to the noises of Mike pushing Nancy out of the basement she guessed, the boy came back on the line, sighing loudly, “Sorry about that, Nancy gets so annoying, I still don’t know why you still hang out with her.”

”She could be a priss sometimes,” She responds, breathily giggling, clenching the ceramic telephone tighter, “But she’s still my friend if you could say.”

Continuing with their conversation based on the plan, it was perfectly assembled, safe with a high possibility of finding Will, even if it had been a day. Will couldn’t have gone far anyways. Y/N was about to speak, but was suddenly caught off guard as soon as she heard her dad in the hallway, getting prepared for the search.

”Oh shit! I have to go now,” Y/N hushed in a subtle tone, trying her best to keep away Hopper from listening to their discussion, “Remember to be home by 9 at least with flashlights. Stay safe Mike.”

The line went awfully silent, placing back the phone to its regular position on the handset, while it being attached to the wall. Rapidly, spinning to look at her father, trying to act as normal as possible, his brows furrowed at her.

”What were you doing?”

Shrugging it off calmly, Y/N breathily giggles while she put her hands on her hips saying, “I was just checking in with Victor, that’s all.”

Hopper’s eyes widened at her point, clicking his tongue as he started grabbing on his sweater for the frosty night ahead, “Funny, but I just called his mom to let him know that he was coming.”

”Right..” Y/N casually crossed her arms, cursing under her breath before she showed any subtle reaction to what she was up to. Play it cool.

In the silence of her looking around the messy home by the front door, Hopper sharply whistles while slinging the car keys in the air to catch them, making Y/N follow right behind me, pretending as if the few minutes didn’t occur. Feeling the breeze of the autumn air, both the relatives made their way to the vehicle, on their way to the small yet important search for this boy, Will Byers.

As the road got narrower and narrower, the car drove deeper into the dark woods, where Y/N could see the slender trees and branches surrounding them. The starry sky lit up the place with a soft tone of dim blues and grays painted across it on the chilly night. Watching out the window, Y/N squinted her eyes to see a figure from afar waving towards the vehicle, a familiar figure to be Victor. Hopper drove nearer, the headlights being able to guide him to the stop where a small crowd of people were surrounding along with the patrols.

Hopper cleared his throat, while he pushed the breaks down and turned to his daughter, “Hey kid, remember don’t be-“

Without hesitation, Y/N swung the car door open to step out of it, hustled her way to her so called “acquaintance”, Victor. It was more like a friend but she didn’t want to be that close with the boy. Victor wearily smiling at her.

“You seem tired,” Y/N creeps up next to him, watching the small groups of people around the mounds of dead leaves and twigs gathered for the search.

Victor’s voice brings the girl’s attention back to him, he clears his throat, “I mean dealing with Flo is already a lot for me to handle, so I suppose I am.” The two silently chuckled, the frost getting to their noses, “I heard there’s gonna be a chance of rain.”

”Really?”

“Yes really! Haven’t you seen the forecast? I’m even wearing a jacket!” Victor squinted his eyes, his eyewear raising up on the bridge of his nose and the girl shrugged aimlessly.

Y/N scoffed, shoving him slightly, “I think there’s way more important things we need to focus on instead of the weather.”

From afar, Hopper and the policemen indicated all the volunteers to gather around on the sidewalk, near the entrance of the forest. The flashing blue and red lights were turned off from the cars, everyone else preparing for the upcoming search.

”Okay guys!” The chief shouted to direct everyone, “We need to stay in the 5 mile radius from where Will was last scene! Everyone please be careful and remember to blow the whistle if you find anything at all!”

Heads were nodded, agreeing to the directions, Officers Powell and Callahan guided two separate groups from different directions, Y/N having to come along with the third group including her dad. Although the girl was 16, her father wanted to take the best care for her, after Sarah. He wanted to keep her as close as possible, but he knew she was getting older. It was just for today, he can protect her for today, now being aware of a kid disappearing in their town. Maybe one of them was next.

“I guess that’s your call genius,” Y/N told Victor as she pointed towards Powell’s group who were walking to the right side of the woods, the people disappearing one by one into the darkness.

Not budging at all, Victor stood his ground saying, “I think I’ll stick with you for now, there’s just soccer moms hoarding the group for Powell, he has a fan club.”

“You’re not wrong Vic,” She sniggered quietly but failed miserably, letting out a subtle loud laugh, both of the teenagers walking behind their group, down a steep hill leading to the inner nature.

Rushing down first to the bottom, the tall brunette reached his hand out for Y/N who was still at the top, to help her come down to his level, “M’lady?”

”Why thank you, what a gentleman!” Y/N sarcastically gasps, gripping onto his hand to steady herself below, after they jogged closer to the group, flicking their flashlights on to carry on.

Everyone glanced above the branches, the moon shining as the crickets chirped. The crisp wind running across their faces, making the trees shuffle loudly. As flashlights led them with its brightness, they all searched and searched, for any trace of the boy around the area.

Half an hour later, the air became cooler than usual, almost bringing a frostbite to their bare hands. The sound of branches and dead leaves crunching over the few people above them. In the silence, Y/N stayed near Victor and her father, hearing shouts for Will. The realization hit the girl, they were looking for lost Will, Will hasn’t appeared, he was probably in some sort of danger. She fastened her grip on the flashlight, looking around more closely, along with the rest.

”He’s a good student,” Someone decides to break the silence of the leaves and twigs crunching under their feet, Victor and Y/N turned their attention to him as they strolled in the woods.

Hopper cocks an eyebrow up and looks towards the teacher’s direction after the statement, “What?”

”Will. He’s a good student. Great one actually,” He elaborates, smiling sheepishly to lend his hand in front of the chief to introduce himself, “I don’t think we’ve met, Scott Clarke. Teacher, Hawkins Middle. Earth and biology.”

“Don’t you remember he was my teacher back in the day?”

Victor nods agreeing with Y/N’s statement from behind, Hopper reluctantly trying to remember his daughter’s middle school teacher, still not recalling since in those past years where fighting for Y/N’s custody between the parents, “I always had a distaste for science.”

”Well maybe you had a bad teacher,” Mr. Clarke remarks, checking if his flashlight was still operating, trudging closer to the group of three ahead of him.

”Yeah, Ms. Ratliff was a piece of work,” Hopper scoffs jokingly, Y/N doing the same as well, remembering his shitty science teacher from his past years while he studied at Hawkins High.

”Ratliff?” The teacher ponders, realizing that the same teacher still resides in Hawkins after all these years, “You bet. She’s still kicking around believe it or not.”

Victor elaborates in between them, sliding his hands onto his pockets, “I had her when I was in eighth grade a few years back.”

”Oh I believe it Victor. Mummies never die, so they tell me,” Hopper smiles, trying to get his daughter to notice but she dozed off beyond the sight of the woods, ”Sarah, my youngest, galaxies, the universe whatnot.. She always understood all that stuff. I always figured there was enough going down here, I never needed to look elsewhere.”

Y/N flickered her eyes towards her father’s direction after hearing the special name, it wasn’t so special to one, but to her, it was. Sarah, Sarah Hopper her little sister, but soon enough the teacher interrupted, “Maybe I’ll get her in my class I-“

“No, she uh.. she lives with her mom in the city,” He cuts the man off from his statement, Victor widening his eyes on Y/N’s side, knowing fully that wasn’t true.

The girl beside the tall boy looked back at his dark eyes, signaling him to be quiet, Y/N was aware of the fact that everyone in Hawkins knew Sarah’s death. Just because of her own blabbermouth, Steve told everyone including the parents her little secret the young female confessed to.

As much as her dad still wants to deny the fact the little one was gone and resting in peace, staying of his delusion Y/N wished she could have. It was a promise. A promise that everything was okay and there wasn’t nothing to worry about, almost some sort of fairy tale where everything had its happy endings with a happy family which wasn’t it.

“Thanks for coming out, Teach. We really appreciate it.” Hopper clears the air, trudging past them farther into the dark eerie woods, Y/N and Victor repeating his steps behind him.

Once they were  out of the picture and range from hearing, a middle aged woman spoke up next to the teacher, in a hushed tone saying, “She died a few years back.”

”Sorry?” Mr. Clarke shifted his head in bewilderment towards the lady for any clarification from the inadequate statement given.

”His kid.”

The teacher’s eyes widened, observing the two family members mumbling inaudible words behind the brisk trees of the cool night. He didn’t know the Hoppers hid their family, they never talked much about family when it came to projects when Y/N was younger. It seemed like something ever so private not like where many kids shared experiences with their loved ones, they always kept everything about their family closed up. Almost a mystery.

Y/N could hear the soft mumbles of the quiet conversation being exchanged by the lady and her former teacher, she felt sick knowing that her father stays in the delusion of her sister being alive, lying. Lying wasn’t so hard for her, Y/N was almost a professional at it when it came to helping the party in situations. But lying to her dad was different, it was the both of them against the horrid place called the world.

“Is Sarah going to be back?” A small girl walked over to the grown adults who stood at the front door, puffy eyes showing on their faces, as they held a plastic wristband and stuffed tiger after a long day from not seeing her sister. It was already near midnight.

Without any move, the woman, who to be seen was the girl’s mother, bursted into tears, her husband catching her into his arms. The youngling worriedly watched her parents shed tears, a middle aged woman got up from the couch to comfort both of them. Whispers and mumbles being shared between the adults, bringing more tears.

”Mommy?” The girl steadily crept next to her mom’s leg, wrapping her short arms around her waist, pressing her cheek against the woman’s body, “Don’t cry, I’m here.”

Sobs were still heard from the mother, the two of the women held each other tightly while the tall man let go from their hug, kneeling next to the girl’s level, “Y/N, kid-“

”Dad, where’s Sarah?!” Y/N shakily shouted, her stomach feeling uneasy, with her sister not being found. What happened to Sarah? She knew Sarah was going to get better. Why was mom crying? So many questions filled her head, eyes welling up, her father hugging her tightly with all the hurt and love. Y/N noticed the wristband that her father was holding, she peered closely to see a sloppy handwriting shown as the name Sarah, written all over it with the date when she was sent to the hospital.

”Sarah is... gone.”

The little’s watery eyes widened, her bottom lip trembling, she threw her arms around her father, her head leaning onto his shoulder. Her little sister was gone, she was alone now, her heart crumbling into a million pieces. Sarah, Sarah wasn’t here anymore. But it seemed so surreal, it was only yesterday the two sisters laughed about one of the nurses dropping her cup of coffee while getting chemotherapy.

“Dad.. Can she come back?”

Sadly grinning, Hopper wiped the girl’s chubby face from her tears, shaking his head, “I’m sorry kid, she’s not coming back.”

”But she has to! Sarah has to come home with us,” Y/N choked in her tears, her eyes becoming swollen, grabbing the wristband from her father’s large hand, “Sarah can’t leave me alone here. She promised she would stay.”

”Y/N, I know this is difficult but your sister left us. She’s in a better place now.”

Making her cry even more, Y/N’s mother rapidly kneeled next to her husband and daughter, she sniffed, grabbing onto her daughter, “We promised Sarah we would love each other and always stay safe. Forever.”

”Promise?”

Both of the girl’s parents joined in for a tight hug, Y/N fastening her arms around the two others, “Promise. We promise you sweet pea.”

”Y/N! Y/N!” A familiar voice boasted in the ears of Y/N, she focused her attention back to the voice. There was no one beside her by the time she looked around, it was the sounds of the wind and her alone. Her flashlight flickered in her hands, she shook it vigorously to try and turn it back on, but there was nothing coming out of it, just a dimly lit tone guiding her way. Nothing else in her sight except for the trees and moonlight, she tried her best to not overthink this and make her way back to the group.

Every turn she made in the paths, it led her to nowhere, noises filled the aura. Slowly, she began to worry, she wasn’t coming back to the group. Y/N’s head filled itself with thoughts, there was no way she could be lost, last time she was with Victor, rambling about the weather. Where was she? Looking up, she felt small droplets of water dripped onto her face above, Y/N squinted her eyes to avoid the drizzle. The water fell down slowly until it started raining heavier in the air, she wiped her face to dry it off and continue to try to find her way back.

“Dad!” Y/N shouted, wrapping her arms over herself, her hair becoming soaked along the time. She kept shouting and shouting, worry filling her in. The girl was afraid. What if she went missing like Will? Oh no.

Without a precaution, a branch from behind was heard. Y/N whipped her head to the direction, seeing a small human with a white gown rapidly run off to opposite direction, the rain blurring her eyes. Was that Will? Curious, she picked up speed to follow the boy, it may be Will. A chance of relief rushing in as her adrenaline sped up, almost running faster. “Will! It’s me!”

The boy didn’t stop, sprinting faster with his bare feet. Y/N still yelled, slowing her pace down, then picking it back up, going through the trees. An idea came to her, tugging at her metal whistle to her lips, blowing on it. The sound coming off it, maybe attracting people to find her and the boy, it has to be Will. Using her arms to run faster, she suddenly trips over a thick log after not seeing below her because of the wind, sending her to the floor. She whimpers as she felt her ankle burn in a pain, whistling even more.

From the distance, few people to what she could tell came forward to her, rain soaking over her head. Thunder being heard far away, Victor came into the picture to kneel down next to Y/N.

”Hey are you okay?” He worriedly checks on her, receiving a nod. Victor looked around for any possible wounds since he found her on the ground, “We couldn’t find you!”

Y/N hardly paid attention to him and looked afar to see if the boy would turn up again. She held Victor’s jacket to pull him closer, “I think I saw Will! He was running through there I-“

”Chief Hopper coming through, excuse me,” A voice from the crowd of people called in, Hopper bringing himself forward to find his soaking daughter on the ground pointing toward another direction. “What’s wrong?”

Victor moves to tell Hopper while being next to shaking and wet Y/N, “She saw Will.”