#sorry to my mutual who doesn’t like Taylor swift

[ethan-nestor-owns-my-heart]

‘Who’s Afraid Of Little Old Me?’ Is so Sam Carpenter coded

[jamminvroomvroom]

ruined.

LN x fem!reader - 4k celebration

based on this request!

in which, why wouldn’t they fall in love?

back with another celebration request! thank u anon, love this one sm! so tempted to make something longer form outta this one omg... lemme know what you think of this, hugs hugs hugs

i had to reupload this! sorry if you already interacted :(

songs to set the mood: let’s fall in love for the night by finneas, you are in love by taylor swift, sofia by clairo, till forever falls apart by ashe and finneas

warnings: 18+!! minors go away dni!! smut, fluff, swearing, alcohol consumption, voyeurism? kinda? friends to lovers, mutual pining

3.4k words

“i bring gifts!” you call out, throwing the keys on the side. you shuffle your feet against the doormat, awkwardly balancing the bottle of wine you hold in one hand and the box of pizza in the other. it doesn’t help that you feel like the michelin man, bundled up in a jacket and a scarf. you kick off your boots, leaving them haphazardly in the hallway.

“in the kitchen.” lando shouts back, and you trudge towards the sound of his voice, sliding around in your fluffy socks.

“i hate all of those stupid little cars that everyone in monaco seems to drive.” you tut, sliding the pizza box across the counter, the bottle of wine clinking against the granite.

“even my jolly?” lando pouts. he’s waiting with two wine glasses, even though you’ll drink most of the merlot while he scrunches his nose up in distaste, but this is routine, standard procedure.

“i do miss the jolly, to be fair.” you give him that much, grinning playfully.

five minutes later, your coat and scarf are long forgotten, slung over one of the high chairs that line his breakfast bar. you’re in the living room, sprawled on one end of the couch, him on the other. your feet rest in his lap and the pizza box rests across your knees. some series you’ve been trying to watch for weeks is playing on netflix, but you aren’t really paying much attention.

“so, you’re telling me,” you pause to take another bite of pizza, swallowing between giggles, “you’re telling me that you heard oscar through the wall?” you choke.

“yeah, i’m telling you! little oscar is definitely not… little, from what i heard.” he cackles. “and then afterwards, bless them, they were all dishevelled and he would not make eye contact with me.” lando explains, both of you a mess of giggles.

“oscar piastri, what a minx.” you shake your head in disbelief.

“as if that’s what i needed, by the way! the dry spell was not helped by whatever him and lily were getting at.”

“dry spell? you? don’t lie to me, norris.” you kick him gently.

“what? i’m serious! start of the season has been so busy, haven’t had time to… get busy.” he wiggles his eyebrows and you roll your eyes.

“welcome to my world, you prick.” you tease, kicking him again. you catch his ribs as you do, knowing full well you’ve hit the prime tickle spot.

“what’s your excuse?”

“excuse you, i’m a busy gal! we can’t all be famous jet-setting f1 drivers.” you feign offence, and he grins toothily.

“i meant,” he starts, speaking slowly as if you’re stupid, and for a third time, you kick him, a tad harder than the last two times. “you’re a catch, how are you not getting laid?”

you pray he can’t see the way you’ve gone pink.

truthfully, he’s the damn reason. how can any man live up to the one and only lando norris? how can anyone compare to your best friend? world famous, beautiful, down right hilarious, beautiful!

lando’s the guy that picks up the pieces every time some loser breaks your heart. he’s the guy who’s key you keep on your overflowing keychain, the guy who buys duplicates of the skincare products you use, so you can keep them at his place - you still laugh every time you remember the first time he tried to pronounce salicylic acid. he’s basically your guy, but after 10 years of friendship, you’re not willing to tell him that.

“just… not.” you shrug, tucking your hair behind your ear. he hums in response, sounds like he doesn’t believe you, but he drops it.

you sink three glasses of red, the pizza box is on the floor, and your eyes are drooping, heavy.

“bedtime for you, methinks.” lando whispers, gently shifting your feet from his lap. you frown, missing his touch already. you make grabby hands at him, too comfy to move on your own. “want me to carry you?” you nod lazily, a smile stretching across your face.

he slides one hand under your legs, the other under your back, and hoists you up. he holds you close to his chest, your head resting against his heart, so close that you can hear the soft thrum that keeps him warm.

“thank you.” you murmur as he places you softly on your- his guest bed.

“anytime, honey.” he smiles down at you. he thinks you’re so pretty like this, so sleepy and cosy. he fights the demons that tell him to crawl into the empty space beside you. “there’s some water here, sleep well, love.” he walks away, reaching the door when:

“love you.” you coo. he shivers. you always say it, and he always says it back, but lately, it pains him.

“yeah. love you too.”

lando pulls the door to quietly, leaning against the wood for a moment trying to compose himself.

-

it’s been an hour, and you’re sobered up, wide awake in the dark.

you try to fall asleep, really, you do, but your mind is moving a thousands miles an hour, and all you can think about is his dry spell. your dry spell.

how can you sleep when you know he’s on the other side of the wall, as needy as you are for a warm body. you also know that you’ve soaked through your underwear. you’re wildly uncomfortable, restless, desperate for a sweet release, whether that be of sleep, or something else.

you can’t ask him, it would be a step too far, despite how torturously close you already are. so instead, you drive yourself insane with the thought of him; the image of him, head thrown back, slick and sweaty, cock hard in his hand.

what’s the harm in helping yourself out?

you’re throbbing, hot all over. you lose the war with yourself and your hand trails shamelessly down your body. you’re so sensitive that you’re instantly stifling moans, hand slapped over your mouth. you can’t get the earlier image out of your head, and you pray he’s on the other side of the wall thinking about you. you’re desperate, bucking your hips into your hand, aching for a release. you wish your hands were lando’s, big and rough, toying with every quivering part of you.

you have an idea, a twisted one, the kind that almost sends you over the edge. what would happen if you let yourself be as loud as you wanted, if you tore your hand away and cried out like you wanted to? every shred of rationality leaves your needy body.

you’re whining, clear as day. your resist calling out his name as your high builds, tweaking your clit between your fingers. you’re so dangerously close, hovering right on the edge. that’s when you hear it.

on the other side of the wall, your vision of lando has become a reality. your faint whines through the wall have him rock hard, fucking his own hand. he wishes it could be yours, and with the way you’re crying out, he doesn’t think you’d oblige to sitting on his lap, wet and pretty, and letting him sink his cock nice and deep.

but he can’t cross that line. not with you. it doesn’t matter how badly he wants you, how he’d go to the ends of the earth for you. one night wasn’t worth ten years of friendship, washed down the drain.

his hand speeds up, his head thrown back, at the same time as you slip two fingers inside of yourself. you fingers curl, hitting deep when you hear a throaty groan sounding from the other side of the wall.

you’d think a millionaire would have thicker walls.

he hears the exact moment you cum, a noticeable change in your sounds. they’ve gone up an octave, breathless, and before he can even register, he’s spurting thick white ribbons that land hotly on his skin.

you clean yourselves up, rooms apart but the same exact things running through your minds.

i just got off to the sound of my best friend.

-

you nibble the crusts of your toast. the kitchen is quiet, painfully so, and the air is still.

lando has his back to you, making you another cup of coffee. he’s forgone a shirt and you try your absolute best to ignore the warm glow of his skin. he looks radiant. you know why; orgasms can do that.

“lando-“

“we don’t need to talk about it, honey.”

“um, i was just gonna tell you that you’re burning your toast.” you snicker.

“oh, fuck.” he slides along the floor to the toaster, burning his fingers on blackened bread.

when he turns to you, he’s tinged red, grinning bashfully.

“moving on.”

“i need to get home but dinner later? i won’t stay the night.” you wink. you crave the normalcy that once was, the light, teasing nature of your friendship.

“i’ll cook.” he’s still blushing.

“ooh, on second thought.” you suck air through your teeth, pulling a face.

“get outta here.” he sticks his tongue out at you.

-

dinner was… well, it was edible.

he made spaghetti and some kind of sauce, one that you couldn’t quite work out the contents of but it was good enough.

“thanks, lan.” you smile softly, helping him clear the few plates off the table.

“anytime, honey.” he replies.

you’re standing at the sink, placing the cutlery down when you feel him behind you. you spin around, instantly regretting it, because you’re caged in. he’s leaning up to reach into a cupboard, frozen. so, so close. his panicked breath fans your face and you can feel the heat of his body.

you lean in, because why wouldn’t you? and so does he, so, so close. your hand that rests on the edge of the sinks moves so that you can reach out and cup his disgustingly perfect face but then-

a knife that had been hovering between the counter and plunging into the soapy hot water gets nudged over the edge by your clumsy hand and clatters against into the bowl.

the irritating noise springs you both back to reality and he jumps away like an orange cat. you grimace at the awkward tension, and he scratches the back of his neck. and then you’re laughing, hard, and of course he joins in because this situation is utterly ridiculous and your laugh is so beautifully contagious.

“oh my god, what is wrong with us?” you wheeze through the laughter, leaning back against the counter.

“last night was… insane. and now everything feels weird so, let’s just go back to basics.” lando smiles gracefully. you nod.

“that sounds absolutely perfect.”

“netflix?”

“and chill?” you chime in sarcastically. he glares at you. “couldn’t help it.” you hold your hands up in faux surrender.

-

you don’t know when you fall asleep, but you conk out, head lulling against his shoulder when you do.

he haunts your dreams, fingers thick between your thighs while you whimper his name. you must be out of it, so deep in your slumber that it takes lando a good few coos of your name to draw you out of it.

when your eyes shoot open, he’s looking down at you, a single curl falling over his forehead, taunting you.

“you dreaming of me?” he grins, something in his eyes that snaps you out of your grogginess.

“wh-why?” you splutter, sitting up. he’s still so close to you, coy smile pulling at the corners of his pink lips,

“kept making these little sounds, panting my name. got me thinking.”

“about what?” you whisper.

“how much i wanted to pin you to that bed last night and make you cry for me.”

“is this gonna ruin us?” your voice trembles with a unique blend of fear and anticipation.

“after last night? baby, we’re already ruined.”

his lips meet yours, tentative for just a brief second, and then it’s passionate, warm, lightning. his hands are firm on your body, pulling you impossibly closer until there’s no other option but to clamber into his lap. your hands find his hair, tugging wildly until his curls are a disheveled mess, pulled every which way.

“you’re so beautiful. want to tell you all the time but-“ lando mumbles into your mouth, urgent and hushed.

“but friends don’t do that.” you cut him off.

he pulls away from you, his nose bumping yours. his eyes are so blue today, sparkly.

“i think we’re more than that.” he mutters, lips brushing yours. “i think we have been for a while.”

“yeah.” you pant. “yeah we have. yeah.” your eyes dart between his and his kiss swollen lips.

and then you’re licking into his mouth, sighing at the relief. he paws at your waist, warm hands sliding under your jumper, gliding over your hips and up, up, up, until he’s dragging the material over you head and tossing it carelessly to the side. he kisses over your collarbone, licking and nipping while his hands smooth over your bra. he plucks at the fasten, and you relax as it snaps open, and the straps slide over your shoulders.

“is this okay, angel?” he whispers.

“perfect.”

his thumbs trace over the curve of your breasts, teasing your nipples gently, enough to send shockwaves through your body. you’re subconsciously grinding down on him, dragging your hips over his crotch, mouth dropping open when you hear the way his breath catches in his throat.

“driving me insane, honey.” he gulps, rolling your nipples between his fingers. “need to get inside of you.”

“hurry up then.” you sound desperate to your ears, delicious to his.

“do you know how hard it was to stay in my room last night? when i could hear you making those pretty little noises? you’re so bad.” he tuts, lifting you off of his lap and laying you back against the couch.

nimble fingers undo your jeans and you jolt as he slides them down your thighs, intimate touches on intimate skin. you lace your fingers through his hair, pulling him down to kiss you, and you moan into his open mouth when his fingers trail beneath your underwear.

lando dips his fingers between your folds, groaning as soon as he feels where your wetness has pooled in your panties. you’re intoxicating, he thinks, and he’s starving for you. he pries his hand from between your legs, lapping at his soaked digits. his eyes fall shut, eyelashes fluttering over his cheeks.

your taste sparks something within him, and he wriggles onto his belly, resting in between your thighs. he toys with your panties, just for a second, and he can’t help but latch on. he laves his tongue over the growing wet patch, eyes fluttering shut. he drags your underwear to the side, lapping over your cunt messily.

“taste so good.” he slurs into your pussy, depraved and ravenous. you buck your hips, the sensation of his words sending rumbles of vibrations to every one of your nerve endings.

you writhe against the plush couch, sinking deeper between the cushions as he fucks his tongue deeper and deeper, burrowing his face as far between your thighs as he can go.

“lando, ‘m so close.” you gasp, tugging hard at his curls, taking your nails across his scalp. he whimpers, whimpers, at the sensation and that’s enough to finish you off.

he keeps going, kitten licking you through your orgasm and you pant, nothing but white behind your squeezed shut eyes. you have you drag him away, overstimulated and twitching against the silvery grey fabric of the sofa.

“fuck.” you laugh, breathless.

“good?” he smirks.

“shut up and come here.” you make grabby hands at him, and he clambers over you, smiling wide, his lips coated shiny and red.

“you’re pretty.” he coos, licking his lips clean.

“so are you.” you whisper.

he collapses on top of you, urgently slotting his lips over yours. he slides his hands all over your frame, memorising every dip and curve, while your hands find the waistband of his joggers. you push the material down his hips gently tracing his hip bone; he shudders at the graze, kicking the fabric away and wrapping his hand around his cock.

you glance down, taking in the sight before you. he’s thick in his own hand, red and slick already, as he runs his hand over himself.

“you want me?” he manages to ask through gritted teeth.

“please.” you whine, reaching to replace his hand, but he bats you away.

“patience, baby. wanted you like this for so long, you can wait a few seconds.” he scolds, condescendingly.

you don’t get a chance to talk back, because he’s sliding inside of you, nice and slow. your eyes roll back at the delectable stretch, he’s bigger than you’ve had in a while, and you hum lowly. he kisses over your throat and you can hear his shaky breath fanning your ear. you’re fluttering around him, adjusting to him with small circles of your hips.

“do something.” you beg, hushed and breathless.

“you think you can take it?” lando taunts, but you can hear the way his voice waivers as your walls spasm around him.

“can you?” you whisper, giving as good as you get. something inside of him snaps and pride kicks in, because before you can even truly gloat, he’s barrelling into you.

you cling onto his shoulders greedily, digging your fingertips in to whatever part of him you can get hold of. he thrusts so deep, all the way in, before dragging fully out, leaving you aching for him to fill you up again. he’s going quick enough that you can’t really complain, but slow enough to tease, to drive you insane beneath him. it feels too good to hurry him up, he knows what he’s doing and you want to take it, feel him like this. you’re quivering, his cock hitting every single spot that makes you tick and you think you can die happy now that you’ve had him.

“i’m so close.” you warn, overstimulated from your first orgasm. he ups his pace, just enough to send you spiralling, and you can’t keep your eyes open as you let go, your legs kicking out.

it’s too much when you open your eyes and find him staring down at you, sleepy and sweaty. he’s gorgeous like this, pupils blown, bronze skin glistening in the low light. he feels the way you throb around him, still buried so deep.

“not done with you yet, angel. c’mere.” lando sits back, pulling your limp body along with him until your right back where you started, sprawled over his lap.

he’s so close to his own release, pained and restless, and you can feel the head rubbing against your clit. even in your state of pure exhaustion, you can’t help but grind down against him, and he lifts your hips enough for you to sink down on him.

your sounds of pleasure ricochet off of one another’s, animalistic contentment spilling from between two sets of equally swollen lips. you’re so full like this, rocking tiredly, backwards and forwards.

“just like that, baby. just like that.” he’s breathing heavily, brows furrowed. his head tips back, neck thick and flexed, and you’re thrown back into the deep end of your fantasy.

“oh my god.” you choke, tears of satisfaction building. “lando!” you cry, meeting his shallow thrusts. he’s guiding your hips up and down, just enough to hammer against that special spot that makes you whine his name.

“cum for me, baby, last one. know you can do it pretty girl.” the praise knocks the last bits of air out of you and you collapse forwards into his arms. he holds you tight, groaning sweet nothings and your name like a prayer, right in your ear.

“you’re definitely staying tonight.” lando laughs softly, coming down. you think back to your earlier refusal, grinning lazily.

“guest room?” you joke, kissing his shoulder.

he pulls you back so that he can look at you, cupping your face.

“you’re never staying in that room ever again.”

he kisses you, then. soft. warm. home.

it’s natural, everything you’ve been missing, and somehow the only thing you’ve been missing in your relationship with him. he already gave you everything you could ever need, tonight was the cherry on top.

“are we gonna be okay?” you whisper, so quiet that you can barely hear yourself. fear pools in your belly.

“i hope so. ‘cause i’m never letting you go now.”

-

i feel so warm inside hehe

-

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[beingsuneone]

The One

SYNOPSIS: it would’ve been fun. If he would’ve been the one.

FANDOM: Harry Potter

PAIRING(S): Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader

RATING: G

CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Goyle, Crabbe, Draco, Theo, Pansy, Enzo, Blaise, Tom, Voldemort

GENRE/AU: Angst, Unhappy ending, Arranged Marriage Au!, reader is married to Goyle (not by choice),

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

WARNINGS: Angst

A/N: *cough* the 1 by Taylor Swift was my inspo. *cough* header and dividers made by me. I would also like to make a part two to this. Note: Voldemort/Toms son Tom Jr who looks exactly like him! (Pre-Voldemort)!AU hope this helps.

DEDICATIONS: the people who voted for him in the poll :)

CREDITS: N/A

The silver band on your finger glistens in the bright lights of the wedding hall, looking anything but enticing; instead of a symbol of love and comfort, it was like a shackle that tied you to a man you didn’t love forever.

Your eyes scan the crowd for the millionth time this evening, trying to seek out a pair of familiar brown eyes— your heart drops for the millionth time this evening, and you realize all over again that no matter how many times your eyes search for his, it will not make him appear.

He won’t come, you know that now as your new husband leans over to ‘kiss the bride’.

You try to wipe the disappointment off of your face, let go of his messy brown curls and smooth words, his rough hands and intoxicating scent.

Mattheo Riddle wasn’t yours to think about anymore; the man in front of you was.

Why your father thought a marriage alliance with Gregory Goyle would help your family, you’ll never know.

Worse, Goyle was, at one point, at least a decent friend of yours; You, Mattheo, Draco, Theo, Enzo, Blaise, Tom, Goyle, and Crabbe, used to strut around Hogwarts like you owned the place— let’s be honest, you damn near did. You and your protective group of Slytherins.

You allow your lips to touch Goyle’s for only a moment before you pull back and smile cordially; the two of you walk arm-in-arm down the aisle until you reach the doors at the end.

The moment you’re through, you push him away.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He says sadly. “If I could have said no, I would have.”

You shake your head, not even listening. “He didn’t even come, Goyle. I thought he’d at least try.”

Goyle sighs. “It wasn’t up to any of us. Not even Mattheo.”

Your eyes sting so you force your face to go deadpan and stare at Goyle. “I will always love you as a friend, Goyle, but I will never love you as anything more.” You say, retreating towards your dressing room.

He says nothing in return. He doesn’t need to. The feeling is mutual.

You enter your dressing room and release a strained breath, resting your head against the door after you close it.

Taking a deep breath, you allow yourself to daydream; to think what this day would be like if Mattheo was the one wearing a suit, the one saying his vows and sliding a ring onto your finger. You let yourself imagine all of the things you would’ve shared with him in this alternate reality, all the joy you might’ve felt. The future you might’ve been able to look forward to.

A tear slips silently down your cheek as your throat closes, suffocating you in the feelings you wish you were feeling.

Someone clears their throat and your eyes fly open, as your whole body snaps stick straight.

It’s your father, sitting eery and alone in a dark room. “You had to grow up one day, Y/n,” he says as his cold gaze sweeps over you. “Stop running around with that Riddle kid and risking your future.”

You shake your head. “The only real future I had was with him, Father.” You tug on the skirt on your wedding dress, and then your hair. “All this— this glamour and camaraderie is you, father, you playing puppeteer with real live people. I don’t know what status you think you’ll get from Goyle, of all people.”

Your father just sneers and pulls up his sleeve— an elaborate tattoo meant to symbolize his allegiance to Voldemort. The dark mark. He says, “You know exactly who that boy’s father is, and exactly where that puts me in relation.” He pauses. “This is what the Dark Lord wanted, Y/n.”

“…what?” Your mouth hangs open, and you wonder why the dark lord would want to torment you personally. “Why would he… I don’t understand.”

Your father just brushes past you and twists the door open. “If the Dark Lord doesn’t tell, you do not ask.”

……

“You’re going to marry him, right?” Pansy asks, smiling at you in the way that friends do when you have a crush on someone.

You shrug, playing it cool but despite your heart going a thousand miles a minute; excitement courses through your veins at the thought of Mattheo. “I think we’d have to become an actual thing first, Pansy.” You laugh.

She winks at you playfully. “I don’t think that’ll take too long, Y/n, He is whipped for you.”

You shake your head. “He is not.” Your heart still flutters.

“He is.” A new voice cuts in, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You turn to face Mattheo, who is now leaning in the doorframe.

What an entrance.

Pansy looks between the two of you and smirks mischievously. “I‘ll leave you two alone and go bug Blaise.” She slips past Mattheo.

You can’t meet his eyes as you grin stupidly at the floor, and the shirt in your hand.

“You talk about me often?” He says, settling on the floor next to you; he breaks you out of your stupor by gently tugging the shirt out of your hands.

You finally look at him. “No, only when Pansy brings you up. Which is always.” You bite your lip as you smile. “I don’t mind it though, you’re one of my favourite subjects.”

“That’s good,” he agrees, toying with a lock of your hair. “I think the guys are sick of hearing about you.”

“Of course they are,” you banter, “They already know everything about me.”

Mattheo leans in closer. “I don’t think they know everything.” His head dips down until his lips are just millimeters from yours. “They wouldn’t know what your lips feel like, would they?”

He bridges the gap and the two of you spent what is probably several minutes just kissing, and when he pulls away you’re breathless.

“No, I don’t think they know that.” Your voice comes out high-pitched, still trying to catch your breath both mentally and physically.

“I hope they never find out.” He says quietly.

You nod absent-mindedly. “Me too.”

….

You sigh deeply and set down the box in your new living room. Trying to put a positive spin on it, you think about how it won’t be terrible living with a friend instead of your parents, who were never there when they needed to be and always there when you needed them to leave.

Emotionally and physically.

You and Goyle are throwing a housewarming party, per his mothers request; so, technically this box really shouldn’t be in this room right now. It needs to be prepped for the party.

Goyle walks into the room. “Malfoy wants to know if he should invite Mattheo.”

You shrug. “Tell him to invite him, I don’t think he’ll show up either way.” Getting over Mattheo has not been easy, and when you think about him, his absence still sends several intense stabs through your heart.

You can still feel the ravines where the cracks in your heart formed. If he did show up, it would either put you on the path to healing or destroy you all over again and possibly forever.

You were fully prepared for the latter if it meant seeing him one last time.

But he won’t show, just like he wasn’t there when you really needed him just a few months ago, when some other man’s ring was being slipped onto your finger and you were near powerless to stop it.

Goyle stares at you for minutes, as if you’re fragile and need to be handled gently. “It is short notice.”

You pick the box back up and walk past him, just to stop at the foot of the stairs. “That’s not what I mean and you know it.” Then, you go upstairs and place the box in the guest bedroom. You have all this space in your new house and absolutely nothing to do with it.

Rooms filled with expectations and soured dreams.

….

Parties should be fun; this cake, considering it’s your favourite flavour, should taste good. You’re surrounded by the faces of your closest friends, all your family— though you aren’t fond of many of them— and all of Goyle’s family. Yet, all you feel is unfulfilled aching for Mattheo.

You feel so pathetic, always thinking about Mattheo, always relating everyone moment to your first love.

But you had wanted him to be your last. Your only. Your everything.

Draco is here, and he’s the one who asked about inviting Mattheo, so you’re pretty sure he’s not coming and you know you absolutely shouldn’t ask.

Instead, you stare at Draco as you eat the tasteless cake, wishing he’d somehow understand what you wanted to know.

Doesn’t help that he’s across the room.

“Y/n, come upstairs for a minute.” Pansy says, dragging you away from the party and into your bedroom. Or what will be your bedroom, anyways.

When the door has shut and she’s locked it, she turns back to you. “You can’t spend the whole party pining over the possibility of Mattheo showing up, Y/n; I know how much he means to you but you have to accept that you’re married and it’s over. You’re only going to hurt yourself more if you keep obsessing over this.”

You reel back, though you’re thankful for how bluntly Pansy says it. “I know, Pansy, I know. I just— I don’t know if can ever get over him. I mean…” You trail off trying to find your words. “Goyle was probably the last person out of our group that I would’ve chosen if I couldn’t have Mattheo. Truly, I think I could live if it was Enzo, or Theo, or even Draco, but not Goyle.”

She sighs. “But it’s not them, and it is Goyle.”

“So, what now?” You huff. “I’m just supposed to… I don’t know, keep his house and have his kids?”

Pansy’s eyes soften but she doesn’t respond; its a rhetorical question and there really isn’t any proper answer for it.

Then, there is a knock at the door. Pansy unlocks and opens the door, just enough for her to see who it is.

When she does, she says nothing. You watch her slip out the door before you even see who is behind it.

And then he steps in.

Mattheo Riddle.

“Hello, Y/n.” He says, so plainly as though he hasn’t just affected you in more ways than you could ever possibly count.

You look away. “You actually came.”

He clears his throat. “I did.”

You can almost picture him a few years back, standing in your dorm room door, smiling at you in that teasing way that made you knees weak.

Except he’s not smiling, and there is absolutely nothing blissful about this moment.

“There’s something I have to tell you.” Mattheo shuts the door behind him. “If it changes anything at all.”

…..

“There’s something I want to tell you, y/n.” Mattheo says one day, cryptically. “I’m just not sure if I should yet.”

You brush his hair out of his face. “Whatever it is, you can tell me, whenever you’re ready.”

He shakes his head, but he’s not disagreeing. “I’m worried you’ll see me differently.”

“There is nothing in the world that could make me see you differently, Mattheo.”

He seems sated by your words, and pulls you into a hug, resting his chin on top of your head. The two of you stay like that for a long while before he finally says, “I’ll tell you, but not today.”

You nod silently and focus on the feel of his arms around you, not wanting to take a single moment with him for granted.

…..

“What is it, Mattheo?” You say exhaustedly while you sit down on the mattress. “What could you say that would change anything?”

He takes a deep breath and sits beside you. “I know why this is happening, why Voldemort singled you out.”

You look up at him. “Mattheo…” trailing off, you stare at his sleeve in horror, dreading what you think he’s going to say. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

He furrows his eyebrows, following your gaze; when he realizes, his eyebrows shoot up again. “No! No, That’s not why I know.”

You visibly deflate with relief. He instinctively curls his arm around you but then quickly pulls it away. “Okay,”

He chuckles dryly. “My reason is actually much worse.” Mattheo pauses, blowing out a breath. “I’m his son.”

.

.

.

After a moment's hesitation, you shoot up from your spot, your eyes blown wide with disbelief. “Mattheo, you cannot be serious.”

He stands up, and sits you back down, trying to keep you calm. “It’s not like I want to advertise that my father is the most notorious dark wizard in history.” He reaches out and pushes a strand of hair out of your face, like you used to do to him so many times. “But he didn’t want you with me, Y/n, all of this is happening to you because of me.”

He sinks down to his knees in front of you and takes your hands in his.

“So,” You start. “I was personally targeted by the dark lord because you couldn’t bother to mention what’s probably a very important detail.”

His fingers tighten around yours. “I was so scared that you wouldn’t love me anymore if I told you, and then, by the time you were engaged, it was too late.”

You push his hands away. “Mattheo, I would have loved you no matter what you told me.” The hurt in your voice makes him back away from you and you can see the pain swirling in his eyes too.

“I told you. You know. Now, we can fix this.”

“No, Mattheo,” You stand up and push him towards the door. “It’s too late. You’re too late.”

He shakes his head rapidly. “No. No, it’s not.” Mattheo tries to stop you from opening the door but ultimately you push him over the threshold. “Please, Love, We can make it work— we could run away, do anything— please.”

You can’t look at him as you speak, while tears flow freely down your cheeks. “We were something, don’t you think so?”

His face falls, and you can see his heart shatter— you can feel your heart mirror his.

Perhaps, though, the most painful part is when he replies; “Yeah, we were.”

All content belongs to @beingsuneone , do not repost, copy or post on other platforms without my permission.

[bobfloydsbabe]

burning flames | eccentric professor!bob floyd x oc

a gold rush fic

SUMMARY: A heated argument reaches a fever pitch for Bob and his TA.

WARNINGS: academia au, enemies to lovers (if you squint), age gap (mid-to-late 20s/late 30s), power imbalance, mutual jealousy, SMUT (fingering), bob being grumpy and rude. strictly 18+/minors dni.

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

GOLD RUSH MASTERLIST

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SPECIAL THANKS to @cherrycola27 for letting me rant about professor bob and for sending thots when i ask for them. you're a real one.

A/N: very loosely inspired by the song style by taylor swift for the wonderful @laracrofted's 1989TGM writing celebration. this was supposed to be a mob boss bob fic, but that made me cry, so i switched gears and now here we are. i'm sorry this is so late, ames. enjoy!

“That’s all we have time for today. You’re dismissed.” He closes his book and listens to the sound of laptop lids being shut, chairs scraping against the old wooden floor, and chatter amongst his students. It’s a sound he’ll never tire of, no matter how long he teaches.

One sound is distinctly different, though. The sound of her voice. Sweet and soft. Lifting his eyes, he sees her talking to one of his students. Mike something. He can’t quite remember, but she laughs and puts her hand on his arm, making Bob clench his jaw.

Another student, Alicia, comes to his desk to talk about the upcoming assignment and what she can do to improve her grade. Normally, he would tell her to make an appointment at his office, but then Imogen laughs again, making heady eyes at that Mike guy, and he decides he has all the time in the world to talk to Alicia.

He tries to pay attention to his student, to answer her questions, and even tries to smile, but he can feel Imogen looking at him out of the corner of her eye. Her dark gaze is intense and sets his skin on fire in a way he’s been trying to ignore for weeks.

“So,” he hears Mike say. “What are your plans this weekend?”

Bob freezes. He lets his eyes wander over to Imogen, who’s still smiling. Next to him, Alicia is still talking, but her voice is far away and barely audible as he focuses on his assistant.

“I’m revising my dissertation proposal,” she tells him. “They rejected the last one for being too broad, so I have to narrow it down.”

Bob’s on that committee and strongly disagreed, but other members outnumbered him and he was forced to dissent. Dr. Kazansky had given her the news, and Bob remembers the heartbroken look in her eyes when she came to his office afterward. He’d wanted to comfort her then.

“Too busy to have dinner with me?”

Bob straightens his back, eyes still trained on Imogen as he dismisses Alicia, telling her to make an appointment if she wishes to discuss things further.

She mutters a thank you and scurries away. Imogen opens her mouth to answer, but Bob interrupts, certain he doesn’t want to hear the answer she’ll likely provide to this Mike character.

“Miss Van Doren,” he says, barely recognizing the hardness in his own voice. “My office. Now.”

He doesn’t wait for her to respond, but gathers his books and leaves the lecture hall without a glance back to see if she’s following. It doesn’t take long for him to hear her marching footsteps behind him, so he leaves the door open for her.

She slams it shut, so it rattles on the hinges.

“What is your problem?”

She’s furious. Nostrils flared, heavy breathing, and a delicious flush paints her cheeks pink.

“My problem?” he asks, placing the books on his desk. “What’s your problem?”

She drops her bag to the floor and crosses her arms in front of her chest. The gold necklace with her initial catches in the light, drawing his eyes down.

“I don’t have a problem,” she insists, taking a step toward him. “But you constantly berating me is getting old.”

He says nothing. He can’t. Not when she’s looking at him like she wants to wring his neck. Not when all the blood in his body is racing south, and he’s trying not to look at her legs, but they are on full display in that tight little skirt she’s wearing. Again.

He swears she’s doing it on purpose to rile him up.

He hates that it’s working.

She takes a deep breath, pushing her shoulders back, and looks up into his eyes. He’s always found hers unsettling, like she sees the parts of him he’s been hiding for decades.

“I know you don’t want me here, Dr. Floyd,” she says, gesturing around his office, making her short skirt even shorter, revealing more of her supple thighs. “You’ve made that abundantly clear, but you could at least show me the courtesy of not undermining me every time I talk to students.”

He frowns. “I don’t undermine you.”

She scoffs, gaze leaving him as her frustration fills the room. “You interrupted my conversation with Michael not five minutes ago,” she argues as her eyes find his again. Dark brown meeting ocean blue.

He steps forward, eyes wandering over every inch of her exposed skin, making his head spin with barely contained desire. “It was an inappropriate conversation.”

“He asked about my dissertation.”

Bob shakes his head. “No, he asked you out.”

“So what?” she throws her hands out to the side, exasperation turning into full-blown anger now. “He’s been trying to ask me out for weeks, but you always manage to interrupt. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you do it on purpose.”

He freezes. His heart’s beating painfully in his chest and his face feels like it’s on fire. There may even be steam coming out of his ears.

He watches Imogen run her hands through her hair, pulling at the roots, and he truly wishes she wouldn’t. It’s conjuring up very vivid images in his head that he shouldn’t have of his teaching assistant.

She looks at him expectantly, thinking an answer is going to come, but it doesn’t. He doesn’t know how to respond to that in a way that’ll make sense to her. It barely even makes sense to himself.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Bob says finally.

She scoffs. “Yeah, well, he treats me better than you do, and I know that’s a really low bar, but it’s better than—”

Bob crashes his lips against hers, swallowing the gasp she emits. For a moment nothing happens, and for a second he thinks he’s made a grave mistake, but then Imogen’s arms circle around his waist and she sighs against his mouth. 

He walks her backward until her back hits the wall behind his desk, and he presses her against it, trying to get closer.

He pulls away a few inches to look at her. Cheeks flushed, hair a little out of place, and pupils dilated. She’s never looked more delectable, and he knows she can feel his hard cock against her hip. He doesn’t care.

Taking a deep breath, her eyes search his face for something, but it’s unclear whether she finds it. “Why did you do that?”

Her voice is barely above a whisper. There’s no hint of regret, but the rational part of him knows this is a bad idea. He’s her superior, after all.

“You wouldn’t shut up.”

“So you kissed me?” she asks with an adorable wrinkle between her brows.

He frowns. Now sure he’s misjudged the situation, Bob leans back and squares his shoulders, letting his hands fall away from her neck.

“Oh no,” she tuts and grabs a handful of his sweater, pulling him back in. “Get back here.” She stands on her tiptoes and captures his mouth with her own, tongue dancing at the seam of his lips for entry.

He doesn’t have to be told twice. He leans his weight against her, pushing her against the wall, and groans into her mouth when she tugs on his hair.

His hands travel down her body. Grazing across the swell of her breasts, into the dip of her waist, the hips that have occupied his thoughts for weeks, and finally, her thighs. His lips never leave hers, and his tongue explores her mouth and the taste of mint that lingers from her toothpaste.

Imogen shudders as his fingertips tickle the back of her knees, whimpering at the touch.

His hands slide up the back of her bare thighs, feeling her soft skin under his palms. She moans into his mouth and it’s the most arousing sound he’s ever heard. He can’t help the roll of his hips, desperate for friction, for relief, for something warmer than his own hand.

His hands travel up under her skirt, feeling the plumpness of her ass in his hands make him push against her again and she’s meeting him with her own movement.

“Professor,” she moans, as he trails wet kisses along her throat, running his tongue over the skin afterward.

He hums, kneading her ass-cheeks, growing harder as he rocks against her. Even separated by layers of fabric, the friction is enough to drive him mad.

“Dr. Floyd,” she says, pulling his hair hard enough that his lips detach from her throat. Her pupils are wide and hungry, mirroring his own, and their heavy breaths mix in arousing unison. “I’m still mad at you.”

A smug smirk spreads across his face. “I know,” he says and removes one hand from her ass. He uses it to brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Don’t go out with him.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

The words hang in the air. Bob keeps one hand on the side of her neck while the other remains under her skirt, playing with the edge of her panties. He holds her gaze, waiting for her to make the next move. To tell him where she stands, what she wants.

He sees the moment she decides, the corner of her mouth turning upward just enough to be a smile.

“Show me.”

Yanking her panties to the side, his fingertips glide along her folds, feeling her already soaking for him. Her mouth forms a perfect o as she gasps, and he wonders what else that pretty and vicious mouth can do.

Her fingers curl into the hair at his nape, gasping when he finds her clit. “So pretty like this,” he whispers, kissing the underside of her jaw.

“Professor,” she whimpers. “Please.”

“Come on,” he says, leaning back to watch her. Her brown doe eyes have gone dark with hunger and desire, arousal clear from the bead of sweat on her temple, and his cock is so hard he’s about to go insane. Yet, he still leans in close, his lips featherlight against her ear and whispers “moan for me.”

He leans back just in time to catch the look in her eyes when he presses his thumb against her clit and she lets herself moan. Louder than he expected, so his hand flies over her mouth, keeping her quiet, but feeling her smile beneath his palm.

His thumb massages her clit while his index finger finds her entrance, warmth begging him to enter. Bob meets Imogen’s eyes, asking without saying the words because he doesn’t trust either of them to keep their voices down.

Her nod sends him to heaven.

She moans into his hand as his finger slides inside her. He’s hot all over, groaning into her neck at the sensation of her. “So fucking tight,” he mumbles against her skin, making her clench around him.

Tightening her arms around his shoulders, she whimpers against his palm, and her hips meet his motions as he pumps his finger inside her. Her juices spread across his hand, and before long, he adds a second finger.

His office fills with the sounds of heavy breathing, muffled moans from Imogen, and barely contained groans from himself. He can feel her getting close, her legs trembling, struggling to stay upright. Leaning his forehead against hers, he removes his hand from her mouth. “Quiet,” he mutters against her lips.

She nods as she kisses him, open-mouthed and desperate, and his thumb draws tight circles on her clit as he angles his fingers against that spot inside her. She’s there. He knows it. “Good girl,” he whispers. “Cum for me.”

She does. Gushes around his fingers, writhing in his arms. He guides her through her high, holding her against the wood-paneled wall behind her. Her head falls against his shoulder as she comes down, and a long whine escapes her throat as he withdraws his fingers.

Leaning back to give her a little space, he takes in her unkempt hair, swollen lips, and the breathtaking pink flush in her cheeks. Her eyes flick down to his hand, then turn to the very obvious bulge in his slacks.

“I–”

She takes his hand, the one with fingers covered in her cum, and brings it to her lips. Keeping her eyes locked on his, she closes her mouth around his digits, swirling her tongue around them, tasting herself. He’s entranced, can’t stop watching her when she hums as if it’s the most delicious meal she’s ever had.

She withdraws his fingers with a pop, letting his hand fall back at his side. They stay there, looking at each other, processing what just happened between them. Not only is she his teaching assistant, but he’s on her dissertation committee. He has power and influence, and while she’s not his student, he is her superior.

“I…” he tries again, but trails off.

She smirks, squaring her shoulders. “Close your mouth, Dr. Floyd,” she says and sidesteps him, adjusting her skirt. “You’re too smart to be a mouth breather.”

She crosses the office, gathering her bag from the floor where she dropped it, and he gets a peek at her panties as she bends over. White lace. His slacks have never felt tighter.

Unsure what to say or do, he stands there watching while Imogen tries to make her hair look presentable. “Alright,” she mumbles after a minute. “See you tomorrow.”

The door closes behind her, leaving Bob in his office, surrounded by books, paper, a chessboard, a laptop he’s forced to own, and the memory of his TA coming undone on his fingers.

There’s only one word to describe the situation he now finds himself in.

“Fuck.”

likes are nice, but reblogs and comments are golden

TAGLIST: @roosterforme, @kmc1989, @bradshawsbaby, @cherrycola27, @wkndwlff, @yanna-banana, @bluezraven, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @hangmandruigandmav, @keyrani, @just-in-case-iloveyou, @solo-pitstop-vibes, @yuckosworld, @have-a-nice-day-k, @writingshae, @the-whitegirl-is-back, @dizzydisaster, @floydsmuse

[joesalw]

imma rant about something i am sorry. i am a huge conan gray fan. i've been since 2020 when i first heard him on a mutual's spotify playlist. i'm indian and i wasn't on internet before pandemic nor did i used to listen to non hindi songs. i did not know who taylor swift was at the time. i had just heard her name in passing and probably two of her biggest songs (love story, you belong with me)

in 2021 my love for conan grew so much. his music has helped me with so much shit in my life. i also started watching interviews and stuff and he mentioned that taylor was a huge inspiration for him many times. he became besties with liv in 2021 and taylor sent both of them her fearless tv recording (due to which i was introduced to taylor's music)

at this point swifties started using the term 'taylor's children' for conan and olivia and then the whole cruel summer credits thing happened with liv and so many swifties started accusing her of copying taylor with everything she does. she rightfully distanced herself from taylor and as her best friend, conan did too

when midnights came out, an interviewer asked him what his favourite track was. he said something along the lines of 'oh i am on tour right now and i think an album like that deserves to be properly heard. i just haven't had the time to listen to it yet' (nothing to be upset at. he was respectful towards taylor and her music) but oh the swifties went wild. they started unnecessarily trolling him, being racist and homophobic towards him and all that

even now in 2024, whenever he does ANYTHING, swifties make it about him not having heard midnights. it's so annoying atp.

but what will you except from a fandom who were all like father towards joe alwyn when he was still dating their idol. but when they broke up, he is public enemy number 1 "who put her in the basement and didn't let her bejeweled" and their new father is someone when alcohol and anger issues (they are accusing joe of that shit now btw. saying how he was an alcoholic and also accusing him of dv which is so messed up. like always believe victims. but why are they making up rumours of abuse with no proof and no word said by taylor who according to them was abused??)

They expect everybody to kiss the ground she walks on, and if someone fails to do it/ doesn’t do it by choice, they become public enemy #1

[burntblueberrywaffles]

My 2023 recap (but it's through all my favorites posts I've made this year)

Part 2! (part 1 here)

Aug 14th

Me @ the prequels haters:

Aug 14th

Aug 18th

He did it for me specifically and I thank him every day ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Aug 20th

Me progressively spiraling in my latest sw posts:

Aug 26th

Discovering you’re ace is wild cause like, you guys were serious when you said you wanted to fuck that character/celebrity?

We weren’t just exaggerating and being silly?? UH???

Aug 27th

Watching the end of ROTS: a moodboard

Aug 30th

Having a R2d2 and C3po cameo might be the laziest form of Star Wars fan service but you know what that shit work my dumbass goes “OMG it’s R2 and threepio 🥺🥺🥺” everytime

Aug 31st

Tumblr staff be like: somehow they’re still using desktop, lets add an evil clown

Aug 31st

“I want the main character to end up with this person, even though I hate one of them who sucks and doesn’t deserve to end up with such a good-”

My brother in Christ call me crazy but I don’t think you actually love this ship. Read an x reader or x OC fanfic at this point jfc.

Sept 4th

Me sending a feedback report to complain every time tumblr makes another idiotic change:

Sept 10th

I’m always so scared to assemble it

Sept 15th

I love doing research, I am not tearing my hair out (lying)

Sept 21st

Im so good at forgetting my blorbo is a child murderer you wouldn’t even believe

Sept 29th

Lowest luminosity setting is not low enough why is my iPhone a fucking beacon of light burning my retina with the force of a thousand suns

Sept 30th

Me every few months:

Oct 4th

Oct 18th

Me reading fanfic titles on ao3 after first becoming a Taylor Swift fan:

Oct 28th

My boy was so sleep deprived this would have fixed him.

Oct 29th

Can’t believe you hate on my ship just because it’s toxic, unhealthy and has disastrous consequences for everyone around them. Grow up. 🙄

Nov 11th

I have beef with TCW Anakin

Nov 14th

When people go “ew why would you be into this ship when it’s toxic and problematic” and I’m just

Sometimes you don’t need another reason than "it makes my brain go brrrrr” it’s fiction babes it doesn’t have to be good or healthy ❤️

Nov 15th

I thought “oh it would be fun to randomly send a kitten picture to this one mutual” and then I went insane 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️ sorry about that besties

(this isnt a good post but since i'm making this as a 2023 recap I want to commemorate that time I sent kitties to all the beloved mutuals LOL)

Nov 18th

I love these “what do you most associate with [insert US state]” polls bc my non-American ass is always:

Baby I literally have no idea what you’re talking about ❤️

Nov 17th

hate when people are like “why would Padme be into cringefail Anakin it’s so unrealistic”

Like, um, CLEARLY she saw his pathetic weepy eyes and immediately decided she wanted to fuck that. What’s hard to understand.

Nov 20th

I think when you break up with someone their memory of you should be wiped men in black style thank you

Nov 22nd

Philosphy class be like

Nov 25th

Me when the known mass murderer starts murdering

#you’re telling me my genocidal babygirl is in fact genocidal???

Nov 26th

The thing about philosophy class is that most of these dudes you have to learn about just suck.

“Ohhhh humans only use each other and every relationship is only built on the potential advantages you can get from it” So your heart has never exploded thinking about how much you love your friends?? Sounds like a you problem.

Nov 28th

Snow being judgmental and having a constant sense of superiority…. brother you can’t even buy a new shirt HUMBLE YOURSELF

Nov 28th

Me starting the Ballad of songbirds and snakes and reading snow’s inner monologue: this guy sucks lmao I will NOT be rooting for him and Lucy Gray to be together 🙅‍♀️

Snow:

Me: oh goddamn it

Dec 1st

“I liked this thing before it was cool!“ Boohoo you’re not special. You just stumbled upon it before other people, congratulations.

"I still like this thing after it was cool, now that public opinion has shifted from being overly positive to considering it bad and cringe” now that takes strength. Courage. Who I aspire to be.

Dec 3rd

Snow: is always nice to Sejanus, helps him distribute food to the tributes, offers him a seat, gives him advice, CALLS HIM HIS FRIEND, save his life-

Also Snow: wtf this bitch thinks we’re friends????

#babyboy you are so stupid

Dec 4th

Me when I see my friend sadposting: I will smother you with kisses and love. Do you need me to kill someone btw

Also me, when I’m sad posting and friends send me encouragements: Friend??? 🥺 Friend cares about me??? 🥺🥺 friend wants to cheer me up? 🥺🥺🥺

Dec 7th

Tumblr rn feels like a landlord trying to make its tenant leave by not fixing shit and cutting utilities, but unfortunately for everyone involved, I am a rat

Dec 10th

No but seriously no one should try being tumblr famous, this website is for one thing only, and that’s having a silly time with your friends and mutuals 😤

Dec 12th

If your mutuals don’t say hi in the tags when they reblog one of your popular posts from someone else then what is it all for

Dec 12th

“Ew liking unhealthy ships is so toxic-”

“Actually toxic ship are INTERESTING unlike those boring healthy ships that have no flavour-”

Meanwhile me, who can appreciate and enjoy any ship dynamics:

Dec 18th

I’m like an old man shouting at clouds except I’m a 20 years old trying to make everyone listen to La Lumière by pomme asdagshdjfk

#I don’t think anyone is buying what I’m selling but I shall keep trying 😔

Dec 20th

Snow when being friendly to Sejanus results in becoming friends with Sejanus

#bro was really like: you’re telling me the person I’ve been treating well and interacting with regularly thinks I’m his friend??? #and that everyone else also think we’re friends???? #like yeah bby that is how friendship works ❤️

[munsonsreputation]

Hey Steven....

steve harrington x fem!reader 

word count: [14.3k] im sorry....not lol

warnings: underage alcohol consumption, reader 18 (senior in hs) + Steve 19 (graduated), reader being a tipsy mess, cursing, mutual pinning, little bit of angst, happy ending :D! -- all credits to taylor swift for writing “hey stephen” and sparking the inspiration for this fic!!! 

_

“Oh, come on, don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet, sweetheart.” Eddie’s voice causes you to snap back, tugging the flimsy stage curtains shut as you turned to face him. A devious smirk on his face and his arms crossed over his chest, reading you like an open book.

“I am not Munson…and how many times am I going to need to tell you to stop sneaking up on me like that!” One of your hands that rested on your sides came up and jabbed at his shoulder aggressively but still he barely shifted.

He only snickered a bit, reaching over to take his own peek at the small crowd that had assembled in front of the stage.

“Don’t be nervous, there’s only like fifty people out there.” He assured you before his eyes caught their small group of friends. He twiddled his fingers at them, getting a wave and thumbs up for encouragement by Robin and Nancy. 

Your voice is what caught the older teens’ attention, sighed and shutting the curtains back to closed, “What if he doesn’t show?” 

“Trust me, Harrington will be here, especially if you invited him…you know he never says no to you.” 

— 

“Robin, I really feel like I’d be invading! I wasn’t even invited!” You protested, fingers stiffening around the steering wheel as your friend sat in the passenger seat giving you directions to the house party.

“Don’t be ridiculous! It’s a party and all of Hawkins is invited—oh! park on the curb!” she babbled rapidly, pointing at an open spot on the sidewalk.

You turned the key, shutting your car off, and peered out the window. It was unmistakable which house it was throwing the enormous party as people lingered outside, music was blasting, and you could hear the loud cheering and laughter of everyone inside. 

Still while it looked like a blast, you grumbled turning to Robin, “Parties aren’t even our thing.”

“It’s senior year honey, let’s live it up before college inevitably turns us into nerds forever.” She shrugged nonchalantly, opening the car door and leaving you back.

“Fine! But I’m not drinking since I’m driving is home.” You jumped out of the drivers seat and locked the car, catching up to her.

“No complaints here!” 

You and Robin walked side by side up the pavement and towards the home of the one and only Steve Harrington who allegedly was best friends with Robin, who claimed that both you and Steve were her best friends despite you and Steve ever crossing paths with each other. Like ever.

She had met him through her new job at Scoops Ahoy that she landed two months ago. On the other side, you and Robin had been friends since sophomore year of high school when you first moved to Hawkins. It should’ve made you jealous when Robin had told you Steve was one of her best friends other than you, but you didn’t mind.

Stumbling, drunk bodies bumped into you and Robin as you stepped through the double doors into the expanse of Harrington’s lavish home. You let Robin lead you into the home that too was foreign to her, and that where you found yourself wedged between hallways trying to figure out which way to go.

“Didn’t think you’d really show up, Robs.” You could feel the presence of the unknown behind you while his laughter filled the air.

“Well, your offer of free alcohol and a good time seemed rather convincing, so I had to come…plus I know you don’t have too many real friends, so I really had to come.”

“Again with the damn sarcasm Buckley, I swear you never get….who’s this?” 

His eyes faltered to the figure standing beside Robin. Arms crossed behind your back and shoulders stiffly shrugged up and you look awkwardly around the space that you weren’t used to.

“This is my lovely best friend” Robin’s arms draped around your shoulders, making you loosen up a bit and finally meet the gaze of Steve’s, “We met in sophomore year biology and have been connected at the hip ever since.” 

“Hi Steven.” You smiled gently, palms undoing themselves from one another to wave at him. 

“Hey, nice to meet you! Steve is fine.” He returned your hello with his even more excited response pair with a pleasant smile.

Robin unwinded herself from you, curling arms with Steve, “Well, come on! Show me to the drinks!”

You were left bracing yourself up against the living room wall, nursing a lukewarm plastic cup of lemonade while Robin and her crush, Vickie, danced the night away. While it wasn’t your ideal Friday night, seeing your best friend blissfully in love with her crush made it all worth it realizing that they were having a good time and you’d be able to get her home safe and sound at the end of the night. 

So despite the ruckus of loud chattering and mediocre music, you continued to sip on your drink, waiting for the clock to hit midnight so you’d be able to get Robin back home.

“Fancy seeing you here, nerd.” 

You nearly jumped, almost spilling your cup all over the floorboards, but thankfully the suspect steadied you, “You’re insufferable, Munson!” 

“It’s kinda my thing—what’re you doing here?” 

“Babysitting.” You replied with a nod, tilting your cup in the direction of the two giggling ladies who twirled each other around to the music.

He scoffed jokingly, “Jesus Christ, they’re going to have a gnarly hangover in the morning.” 

“What about you?” You rose your brows, following as he yanked open his leather jacket stuffed with drugs and other junk.

“Parties are the perfect place to sell. Usually only come to these for deals. Interested in partaking in some purple palm tree delight?” He winked, pulling out a blunt from one of his compartments and twirling it in his fingers. 

You turned your nose up at the smell. He knew you didn’t smoke, but he liked to mess around with you to see if you’d ever give it a try. But not tonight, so he snickered, cramming it back into his pocket, closing his jacket and leaning up the wall, continuing to make small talk with you to pass the time.

Soon you were joined by King Steve, who cleared his throat beside you, “He bothering you?” He questioned with raised brows, taking a sip of his own drink.

“Seriously, does she look that uncomfortable?” Eddie tried to look offended at the statement, placing his hands over his heart while Steve rolled his eyes and you laughed, pushing Eddie away.

“Eddie and I are friends, actually. I know that’s kinda hard to believe, considering his satanic worshipping.” You mocked, feeling a cheeky smile coming onto Eddie’s face as you heard him let out a snicker while you continued to keep eye contact with Steve.

He simply nodded, peering down to look into your cup as he frowned a bit, “Not drinking tonight?” 

“I usually don’t anyway, plus I’m babysitting Buckley over there.” 

He searched the room, finding the dancing teenagers who were stumbling around his living room to the genetic radio music that was playing in the background.  

“Look, I know that I’m only here for dealing, but Jesus Christ Harrington, the music is absolute shit!” Eddie declared, making you nod your head in agreement while Steve rolled his eyes, hands on his hips. 

“Yea, well, we’ve been through this, Munson. You deal and I graciously provide the people and music, plus I don’t want to hear any of that heavy metal shit alright. Sounds like damn pots and pans banging around.” 

You laughed at that reply, cheeks hurting from the constant bickering the two had, almost like brothers’ to be honest with you.

“Can I play something?” You requested, floating over to the sound system, checking out the different cassettes that cluttered the piece of equipment, fingers shuffling through, expecting you’d find something that was more of your tune. 

Eddie puffed noisily, crossing his arms over his chest, looking at you then to Steve, “Harrington has a strict “no changing music” rule, never lets anyone—“ 

“Sure.” Steve retorted, with a smile widely covering his face, cutting Eddie’s sentence short and leaving him in confusion.

You screeched and quickly shuffled through the tapes, finally finding one that you knew everyone had to love. Sticking it in, hitting play and then the synth rattled throughout the house while your body followed the beat, hips swaying and your feet drawing you towards Robin and Vickie, who engulfed you in their arms as the three of you giggled and glittered. 

“I wear my sunglasses at night!” You sang vociferously, chin up in the air as your eyes closed, savoring the song wrap you in this bubble of sweetness and fun, despite being perfectly sober.

Vickie and Robin cheerfully sung along, “So I can, so I caaannnnn.”

Eddie rocked his head, biting back another huff of disapproval as he watched his friends have a great time, while Steve ooggled at you—without a doubt — the beginning of the fall for you.

“Fucking hell, you bend the rules for a chick you just met a few hours ago, but not for the guy who's been supplying you with the goods for the last three months?” Eddie nudged Steve, who rolled his eyes and tsked away the accusation. 

He honestly only said yes to spite Eddie and get him to shut up, but you looked like you knew your stuff so he could bend the rules for you, just this once.

“She has good taste. What can I say?” Steve held back a cheeky smile, eyes never withdrawing from your dancing figure as he sipped his wine cooler. 

_

“Dude…hello…you’ve got to be kidding me.” 

You snapped out of the brief recollection as Eddie flapped his hands in front of your face, stooping down to your height to somehow capture your attention that Steve stole. 

“Sorry…you were saying?” You swung your head from side to side, and Eddie groaned, taking your shoulders in his grip, giving you a comforting squeeze. 

“We’re on in five.” You felt your throat tighten and your heartbeat speed up at the thought of you performing a confessional love song out in public like this. 

Sure, it was one thing to daydream about a perfect moment where you confessed your undying love and admiration for Steve, but standing here in the small space concealed from your friends, all of Hawkins, and the muse of your song was scary. You had balls writing this song and actually working with the band to make the music, but to perform it live took another risk.

Regret. You were feeling instant regret for considering doing this, and you needed to find a way out before you made an embarrassment out of yourself. 

“Maybe you and the guys should just perform your usual stuff tonight, just totally forget about my whole—“ You were rambling swiftly, a bunch of rubbish shooting out of your mouth. 

Something Eddie was accustomed to, but he was not going to let you get away so easily. Especially not after the long hours he and the band spent with you trying to write the goddamn music for the past week. 

“Hey, listen to me alright.” His voice was genuine, needing you to truly understand the situation. Your mouth sealed closed, looking up at him as you tried to regulate your rapid pulse, knowing that time was ticking and you’d be up anytime now. 

“We’re going to go out there and you’re going to sing your heart out to that boy and who knows maybe he’ll finally muster up the courage to finally ask you out on a proper date and you guys can go and be the love birds that you were destined to be.” 

Your cheeks were heating a vivid red just imagining that act. Hoping. Praying. Wishing that would be the outcome for tonight, nevertheless, you let your fears get the best of you. 

“A-and if he doesn’t?” You sought quiet, voice wobbly, trying to balance itself. 

Eddie shook his head, not wanting you to keep that thought in your head, messing you up even more. So instead he bopped your nose with his ringed finger, “Then we say, “Screw Harrington” and we’ll all go out and get pizza’s and milkshakes, then we can watch those stupid romance movies you, Robin, and Nance watch.” 

Laughter finally burst from you, easing your spirits, knowing that you could always count on your friends to make you feel better no matter what. 

“Yeah, that sounds good.” You folded your arms around his lanky frame, giving him a small hug he returned before walking a short distance away, hauling over the rest of the boys who were ready giving you a smile and words of encouragement as they got ready to head out on the stage. 

Gareth, Kevin, and Jeff stepped out through the curtains, waving hello to the crowd and Eddie was last, looking at back at you once more, “See you out there, and hey, it helps to thinking about happy times, makes you feel more at ease.” 

You nodded warmly, watching as he picked up his guitar, slinging it over his body, “Thanks, Munson.” 

“Evening everyone, I’m Eddie from Corroded Coffin…” He went on introducing the band as you listened, squeezing your arms around yourself while you waited for your cue to head out and join them. 

Dustin apologized profusely as he dragged himself and Steve by the arm through the crowd that seemed to get bigger, knowing that they couldn’t miss Corroded Coffin’s set but somehow they got caught up at the basketball booth trying to win a giant stuffed animal for Dustin to gift to Suzie but failing.

Finally, they spotted their friends in a small group within the crowd. Dustin headed over to sit with the younger teens while Steve hung back a length bit with the older crew.

“Well look who finally decides to show up!” Robin scolded, elbowing Steve who shrugged it off, too busy searching for you in the crowed, thinking you got separated from the bunch. He had really only agreed to come to the fair after you invited him two weeks ago and seeing as you were nowhere to be found, he was disappointed.

“She’s not here?” He leaned over towards Nancy, who stifled her giggle and shrugged unconvincingly. Even though she and Robin knew that you’d be performing with the band tonight, they didn’t know that you wrote a love song for the event. But obviously, the girls had their suspicions and theories. 

“And please welcome our special guest for tonight!” Eddie announced proudly, gesturing his hand to the side of the stage where you timidly came in, waving a small hello to the audience as you stepped up to the mic stand. 

Steve was still looking between Robin and Nance trying to get answers about your whereabouts and suddenly the sweet sound of your voice hit his ears.

“What the—”

“Umm…hi everyone, first I really want to thank Eddie and the rest of Corroded Coffin for doing this for me.” Your fingers were tightly gripping the microphone at this point, and you haven’t even got to the most nerve-wracking part.

“… I wrote a song for a special person and usually sappy love songs aren’t Corroded Coffin’s thing, but they are so kind to drop their metal personas for the next four minutes so that I can make sure that this person hears this song…” Your eyes searched the crowd and finally landed on Steve’s he looked surprised, but in a good way. 

Steve smiled, whispered a quiet “hey” to you and you swore you could see his eyes twinkling and the halo above his head…he was an absolute—

Eddie strategically coughed, causing you to snap out of the goddamn daydream once again and say your final peace. 

“I hope you like it.” You spoke honestly, separating your eyes away from Steve’s as the sentence left your mouth and you nodded towards the band and the music begun. 

While you waited for your moment to start singing, your inner self was freaking out, “Think about the happy times” your brain kept repeating Eddie’s words, concentrating on the moments you and Steve shared that made you fall for him and inspired the song. Then it was showtime as you took a breath and your voice carried it away.

“Hey Steven, I know looks can be deceiving

But I know I saw a light in you

And as we walked, we would talk

And I didn’t say half the things I wanted to”

“And so we meet again.” Steve announced merrily, making his way down the basement stairs, staring right at you where you were seated on the couch reading a magazine while the rest of the gang did their own thing in the cozy area and in other parts of the Wheeler home. 

You looked up from the pages and smiled softly, “Hey, what’re you doing here?” closing the material and pushing it off to the side, you offered him the seat next to you, which he gladly took. 

“Dustin invited me,” He pointed to the curly-headed boy sitting crossed legged on the floor, entranced by a video game that he and Mike were occupied with. 

You let out a laugh and a flashed him an apologetic smile, “They haven’t put that thing down for the last hour and a half, Lucas and Will got tired of waiting for their turn so they went with Jonathan and Nancy to pick up some takeout.” 

Steve glanced at the youngsters, shaking his head disapprovingly, realizing he was called to be Dustin’s ride home in who knows how many goddamn hours, but at least he had his new friend to keep him company for the time being. 

“Little dipshit.” Steve murmured quietly, but still your ears caught it, a small giggle spewing from you that led to him shifting his attention. Watching as your chest faintly moved up and down while you continued to laugh and your smile was wide as day. You knew the kids were always up to something and somehow seemed to trick Steve countless amount of times. 

“Wanna go on a walk around the block? Who knows how long you’ve been sitting here.” He stood up, holding his hand out for you to take and you nodded without hesitation, taking it to help you up before making your way up the basement steps, through the living room, and out the front door where you slid your sandals on. 

The walk started off silent, taking in the afternoon sky that would soon fall dark in the next hour. Despite basically sharing the same, if not all, friends, you and Steve had never run into each other, let alone hung out like this before. The only other interaction you had with him was his house party last week and seeing him through the window at Scoops when you’d pick Robin up from work. So at this point, you still had a lot to learn about Steve, and so you started talking first.

“So, how do you like working at Scoops with Robin?” You inquired, interlacing your hands behind your back as you glanced at him, then back to the path in front of you. 

He let out a half wistful sigh, making your eyebrows furrow together. “It’s not bad, don’t get me wrong. I love Robin and working with her. It’s just that…I don’t know, I thought that I’d be in college—I mean, it’s been a year since I graduated and still I feel lost.” He confessed, hands gesturing in the air as he worked on telling you about his ongoing issue. 

Your bottom lip pouted sadly, softening your eyes at the older guy beside you and shooting him a sympathetic gaze. 

“I’m really sorry to hear you feel that way, Steve,” he was slightly surprised as your hand came in contact with his shoulder, but quickly got used it. Sadly, as soon as that comfort came, your hand withdrew itself, placing it back behind your back.

“I just hope you know that you’re not the only one who feels lost,” You paused mid walk giving him an encouraging expression before proceeding, “I mean trust me, I feel like half the population who claims they have their life together are just lying out of their ass,” your voice held nothing but truth as you rolled your eyes jokingly just thinking about the many adults who were lying to themselves on a daily basis. 

It was his turn to chuckle, head nodding in agreement with your statement before he spoke again, “I applied but just didn’t have the grades to get into any of the schools I wanted to attend.” 

Steve had spent a lot of time in high school focused on popularity and status and while it was a fun run, it ultimately came back to haunt him when he received three back-to-back letters from his top schools sadly rejecting him due to his failing grades. Not only was his parents disturbed, but regularly brought it up whenever they could, which is why he wanted to keep working so that he could save up and get his own place away from his parents and hopefully with a new itch to pursue a career he’d actually enjoy. 

“You could always go to a community college, then transfer.” You pointed out with high spirits as Steve shook his head ferociously with his hand held out as if he was declining the very thought. 

“My parents would lose their shit knowing their boy was going to a community college. They think it’s for broke kids, and I can’t damage the Harrington name.” 

He looked sad. A little crushed, to be honest. Maybe it was because he didn’t agree with his parents’ views on the different school choice. Or maybe it was because he didn’t want to disappoint them. At this point, there was a big possibility that it could be both. 

“Fuck what they think.” You blurted out with no second thought, taking yourself aback as well as Steve, who snapped his eyes at you, filled with trouble and a bit of intrigue to see where this was going. 

“Why should I?” He challenged, standing in the middle of the empty sidewalk, turning his entire body to face you as you did the same, staring into his eyes, thinking of all the right and true things to say. 

Because you don’t give yourself enough credit, Steve Harrington. You’ve changed since a year ago and you have got so much to offer to this world besides living up to your family name. You have an enormous heart that you’ve opened up to these kids who look at you like an older brother who they feel safe with. You’re not the jock jerk from high school that bullied others and that’s because you changed and you hold yourself accountable and make efforts to apologize to the people you hurt. You’re funny, charming, charismatic, handsome, and—

“You’ll only get so far if you keep trying to live up to other people’s standards and one day you’ll realize your unfulfilled because all you ever did was make the people around you accept you rather than doing something that makes you truly happy.” 

You said it so quickly, you weren’t even entirely sure if Steve was able to understand any of that, but your suspicions were proved incorrect as he grinned broadly, nodding his head as his eyes trailed to the pavement unsure if he could look at you without feeling something strong inside him. 

“Thanks.” He replied sincerely, finally catching your face that held a smile, 

“Always.” 

_

Steve’s eyes widened when the first two words left your mouth, his name included, “Holy shit,” his voice faltered, watching the words leave your lips beautifully, accompanied by the music and your nervous stare. 

“She wrote you a song?!” Dustin turned behind him to look at Steve, the rest of the kids following as he ignored them, never letting his eyes leave you.

Steve swallowed thickly, continuing to listen to the words you’ve been dying to say as your mind and his seemed to be united, replaying specific moments in your complicated…friendship?….almost relationship?…but not really? 

Whatever it was, it just wasn’t set in stone.

“Of all the girls tossing rocks at your window

I’ll be the one waiting there even when it’s cold

Hey Steven, boy, you might have me believing

I don’t always have to be alone”

Your fingers held the straps of your backpack that laid over your shoulders while you walked through the crowded mall on this Friday evening, making your way to Scoops Ahoy. 

“Ahoy Steven.” You called out, approaching the register where his back was turned to you, sorting out papers before finally turning around and meeting your saluting figure. 

He beamed walking up to the front counter, resting both palms on the surface, “Hey you, did you come by for some ice cream?” He queried, eyeing the plethora of flavors that were sitting in the deep freezer. 

You shook your head with a tight smile and peeped behind him, trying to see if Robin was in the back, busy or on her break. “Is Robin here? We’re supposed to see a movie tonight and have her mom pick us up.” 

Steve shook his head and frowned, causing you to be confused since she specifically said that it was this Friday. You couldn’t have mistaken it for next Friday since you knew she had band practice that week and—

“Robin left like two hours ago. Didn’t tell me where she was going, just that it was a super duper important emergency that had to be tended to immediately.” He quoted, trying to replicate Robin’s character as you let out a sad laugh and nodded. 

“Well shit, guess it’s just one of those nights again…anyway, thanks Steve!” You were turning on your heel, prepared to walk out of the establishment and figure out how you were getting home tonight as you got dropped off to the mall and didn’t have your car. 

But his voice called out to you and you spun back around to face him, “You have a ride home?” somehow he ended up outside the vicinity of the counter and was now standing face to face in front of you. 

“Not tonight, my mom had to use my car for work today.” You gave him a tight smile as your weight shifted from one foot to the other, nervously, “…but it’s no worries, I can take the bus.” he narrowed his eyes, shaking his head and checking the time on his watch. 

His eyes met yours again when he finished getting the hour. “I get off in fifteen minutes. What do you say I give you a ride back to your place?” 

Your heart raced, mouth not knowing how to answer, but apparently your body did as your head nodded upon instinct, and Steve displayed a radiant smile. 

“Great! You want to hang out in the back room? It’s much more comfortable than out here.” He gestured towards the back and you nodded, following him as he led you behind the counter and opened the back door, motioning you to take a seat at the desk. 

You removed your bag, resting it on your lap as you sat and looked around, “Are you sure I’m allowed back here?” You raised your brows, pointing at the “Employee’s Only” sign that hung on the back of the door. 

Steve waved it off, giving you a reassuring look, “Just there for decoration…I bring girls back here allllll the time.” 

Your eyes enlarged and a pink flush covered your cheeks at what just escaped his mouth and Steve, who seemed to be confused at your expression, immediately caught onto his mistake. 

“No, no, no, no! That’s not what I meant!” He panicked, not wanting you to think he was some douche bringing random girls back here during his breaks. 

You attempted to make him feel less embarrassed, “Steve it’s ok—“

“I meant like El and Max, they come here all the time and nag me to stay in the back since they don’t want their classmates to see them.” He corrected himself, hands on his hips as you laughed and nodded your head. 

“Steve, really you don’t have to explain yourself to me, i’s not a big deal if you have girls back here or not.” You soothed him, but there was a slight pang in your chest. You thought Steve had changed from high school and dropped the player's title. 

“No, really, I’m serious.” He made his way over, standing on the other side of the desk where his hands now rested, “You’re the only girl….besides, Robin, Max, and El that has been in here…just came out wrong and weird the first time.” 

Why was Harrington trying so hard to get you to believe him? 

“I believe you.” You assured him, patting his hand as he let out a breath of alleviation before his attention was taken away from you as the bell dinged from the other side of the wall. 

“Steve, I want my ice cream!” The small voice belonging to the one and only Erica Sinclair. 

He rolled his eyes, yelling out a curt reply as he gave you another one of those famous smiles before telling you to relax back here for a couple of more minutes before he’d close up shop. So you did, pulling out your recent library borrow and reading a couple pages before you heard some ruckus coming from the front of the store, followed by your name. 

Standing up from your seat, you stuffed your book back into your back, slinging over your one shoulder as you walked back out to the front, “Steve?” 

A quirky smile sprawled out on his face as he held up his ice cream scoop and a bowl. “Any ice cream for your liking, M’lady.” 

It caught you so off guard that you couldn’t help the snort that came with your laugh, throwing your head back at how ridiculously cute he looked, especially with the uniform that you came to love every time you came to see Robin at work. 

“W-what? Do I look stupid?” He asked, grimacing sadly at his attempt to pull off something sweet for his new friend. 

“No! No! I think it’s sweet actually, it’s just the whole getup really tops it all off.” Your fingers rounded the air as you pointed at his outfit, stepping closer to him so that you could pluck off his hat and place it on your own head. 

He watched as you skimmed over glass, observing the flavors, letting out a small squeak when you saw your go-to, “peanut butter cup, please.” 

Steve got to scooping you a substantial amount in your bowl, stopping only when you shrieked and told him you wouldn’t be able to finish the monstrous pile of creamy peanut butter ice cream and Reeses’ mix-ins.

“Toppings?” He asked, watching you scrunch your face, instead happily taking your plain old ice cream from his hands and taking a bite. 

“Toppings ruin’s the flavor.” You said with a full mouth, attempting to chew the ice cream that was too cold for your teeth making him chuckle, going back and scooping himself his own bowl of ice cream. 

“I have to disagree. Toppings are amazing.” 

“On vanilla ice cream, sure, but if you’re piling on heaps of candy on an already sweet treat, then you’re just messing with the flavor profile.” 

Steve rolled his eyes, topping off his mint chip with even more chocolate chips and sprinkles, before tossing the scooper into the sink. He took a bite, letting out an excessively loud hum, attempting to convince you that his ice cream masterpiece topped off a plain bowl of peanut butter cup anyday.

“Vanilla ice cream. Sprinkles. Chocolate sauce, but only two small squeezes. And a little dollop of whipped cream.” You said it so specifically, leaning against the counter as you two enjoyed your sweet treat together. 

He seemed to like your order, filing it in his brain for whenever he would see you next time, “Not too bad…no cherries?” 

You gagged in disgust and shook your head, “Hate ‘em. Reminds me of the dentists.” 

He filed that in the “she hates this” folder. 

The two of you finished up your ice cream, you even helping him with cleaning up the last bits of Scoops before heading out the back entrance and making your way to his car. 

“Can’t believe Robin would ditch you for a date.” Steve said, stuffing his hands in his pockets as you walked through the parking lot. 

You brushed it off and opted to smile instead, “I can’t be too mad…Vickie is great and her and Robin seem happy whenever they’re with each other,” you remembered his missing hat that rested on your head now and you smiled, pulling it off and placing it back onto his.

He grinned, thanking you, and pushing it down securely before going back to conversing, “I just don’t understand why she didn’t tell me. I mean, I am her best friend too.” 

Footsteps halting and you looked at him, biting your lip as he finally stopped, realizing you were behind him, “What? Why are you stopping—“ 

“Super duper important emergency that had to be tended to immediately is code for “date” Steve.” 

He looked a little puzzled, not entirely processing what you had said until he repeated it in his brain again, “What! How come I didn’t know about this?” 

You giggled shrugging your shoulders and finally catching up to his spot, “It’s been me and Robin’s thing since Sophomore year…my parents used to be really strict with dating so when I had to come up with an excuse I used that phrase and said I was going over to Robin’s study for a last-minute test. It’s just been a thing that stuck, I guess.” 

“Are your parents still strict with dating?” He wondered, peering over at you, shaking your head. 

“Thank god,” he thought secretly, wanting to fist bump into the sky but hold himself back.

“Not really. They trust that I make good decisions so they aren’t too concerned, but they also know that I don’t get out much besides the Wheelers and Robin’s so they don’t have to worry about me getting knocked up either.” You joked, making him snicker a bit before another voice interrupted your conversation. 

“Steve! Hey, Steve!” 

You both turned around, watching as a girl ran up to the both of you and practically flung her arms around Steve’s neck, making you visibly embarrassed, as if you stormed the occasion even when it was her. 

“Hey….hey Marissa, what’s up?” He was unsure, untying her arms from his body and placing it back at her sides, as she sulked and trudged her foot on the asphalt. 

“Christian is having a party tonight. Do you wanna go?” She asked sweetly, rubbing her arms up and down his biceps as you wanted to shrink yourself into a puddle on the ground and evaporate. 

Again, Steve removed her hands from him and shot her a look, “I’m not really feeling the whole party thing tonight, plus I’m actually dropping my friend off to her house so my schedule is a little booked,” He pointed over at you, who stood stiffly on the sidelines, keeping your eyes on the sky to avoid her harsh glare.

The girl frowned again, letting out a frustrated sigh, turning to you and shooting daggers at your face before heading back to her car. You and Steve continued the walk to his car in silence, but not before he gave you an apologetic smile.

“You really didn’t have to turn her down for me.” You muttered, eventually getting to Steve’s car as he unlocked the passenger door for you, waiting as you got buckled in.

“I really didn’t want to go out with her, anyway.” He answered, shutting your door and jogging over to the driver’s side where he got in. 

A thought lingered, but you didn’t let yourself voice it to him, just fidgeting with in the passenger seat as he looked through the radio stations, finally settling on one until he started up the car and began the drive. 

But you still couldn’t help but ask, “Why?” 

“Hmmm?” He hummed, peering over at you, then back to the road, then back at you again for a few seconds. 

“Why didn’t you want to go out with her?” 

He let out a chortle, almost expecting you to laugh along with him, but you were dead serious. Stone faced as your body veered towards the left of you, getting closer to observe Steve. 

“Oh, you’re actually being serious?” His laughter came to a screeching halt when he saw your deep stare. 

His fingers remained tapping on the steering wheel and the music flooded out the brief silence between the two of you and he spoke without a seconds hesitation.

“I don’t want to waste my time, especially when I know that I don’t see a future with her. Kinda just grew away from the whole hookup scene, you know. I graduated. I had my time to fuck around already, but I just want to settle. Find a great girl and adore her….forever. ” 

Shit, he really is charming. 

“And plus…why go to a boring party when I could give my friend here a ride back home, knowing she’s safe and sound from the evil that lingers in Hawkins?” 

You exhaled, closing your eyes at the answer and nodding before opening them back up, staring at his side profile that illuminated in the moonlight, “Thanks again, Steve…but I should’ve told you to take the last right two minutes ago.” 

_

“‘Cause I can’t help it if you look like an angel

Can’t help it if I wanna kiss you in the rain, so

Come feel this magic I’ve been feeling since I met you

Can’t help it if there’s no one else

Mmm, I can’t help myself”

“And whose bright idea was it to go swimming during a storm watch again?” Nancy heaved, setting down her things by a nearby tree as you and Robin elbowed her slightly. 

“It’ll be fun, Nance, cheer up!” You argued enthusiastically, throwing off your shirt and pants, leaving you in a black two piece stumbling your way through the rough ground and into the cool lake. 

“Wait up, dingus!” Robin yelled after you, ripping off her own clothing and racing in, practically splashing you while you squealed and hands driving the water towards her in payback. 

The two of you eventually settled and got used to the temperature, looking up at Nancy, who was considering her choices of either watching from her spot and being the conscientious friend she was, or joining in on the fun. 

“Come on Nancy! It’s senior year, have some fun!” Robin screeched, which set something off in the girl, the two of you howling and whistling while she shrugged off her coat and began making her way in the shallow end with you two. 

Nancy and you never were never exceptionally close, but the two of you found comfort in each other and began getting closer when she and Robin starting hanging out more. You tagged along, assuming you’d be third wheeling, but Nancy was a sweetheart, always making sure you were included and inviting you over to her home whenever her nose wasn’t stuffed into a textbook or newspaper club. 

“Ok I’ll admit this isn’t too bad, it’s actually really peaceful out here, even when it’s about to storm,” Nancy admitted, swaying around in the water as you all marveled at the grey sky and the clouds that hovered your small town. 

“And you finally get some time away from Jonathan.” Robin teased and Nancy rolled her eyes faintly, “Oh, and I suppose you and Vickie aren’t together all. the. time?”

Robin stayed hushed, as you and Nance looked at each other and smirked, “You two are sooooo in love with each other, it’s cute.” you complimented watching as her face lit up hearing about how her and her lover were so clearly into one another. 

“What about you? Any guys in your love life?” Nancy relaxed her hand on top of yours beneath the water and you shook your head, “nope, no guys as of right now.” 

“Bullshit. You and Steve?” Robin rose her brows suspiciously as you gasped and shook your head immediately.

Nancy was your friend, and she was also Steve’s ex and you’d be damned if you broke girl code just for a guy.

“Steve and I are friends. All he did was give me a ride home after you ditched me to go on a date.” You lovingly scowled at Robin, who mouthed a “sorry.” 

“He isn’t bad, you know. He actually changed from a year ago, which is telling.” Her voice trailed distantly swimming deeper, Robin following, leaving you behind. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You called out, paddling your arms to catch up to them. 

“Means that if you like him, then take a chance on him.” Nancy said, turning to face you, nervousness covering your expression, not knowing if this was some sort of trick she was playing on you to see if you would break the girl code. 

Nancy could read your mind. She was good at that kind of stuff. 

She smiled sincerely as she reached out, pulling her arms around you in a hug, “You’re my friend and I want you to be happy, and don’t ever worry about the history me and Steve have. It was a good run, but I really feel that Jonathan is my soulmate and you deserve to find yours, too.” 

That was the compassion that you were talking about. 

“Yeah, and Steve wouldn’t shut up at work yesterday. He kept lecturing me that if he wasn’t there that you’d be stranded at a bus stop and something bad could’ve happened to you. Told me to never ditch you for a stupid date again….not unless he was working and could be your emergency ride home. He was real concerned, if you ask me.”

Robin’s confession made the butterflies in your stomach swarm wildly just at the thought of Steve being so concerned with you. You could literally feel your cheeks burning up and you so badly wanted to let out the highest pitch scream of your life feeling like a damn third grader all over again. You were sure that Nancy could feel your heart beating out of your chest since she was still hugging you, but this feeling didn’t last long as you heard tires screeching coming from a short distance away.

“Shit! We’ve been swarmed.” Robin muttered annoyingly, eyes trailing up the small hill seeing Eddie’s van parked while the older teens and kids filed out of the car dressed in their own swimwear. 

Nancy squeezed you in her arms lovingly, “Go get him, tiger!” she released you, swimming back up to the shallow and running into Jonathan’s arm as she pulled him into a kiss.

“Definitely soulmates,” you thought to yourself.

Little by little, the lake was filled with your friends, basking in the peacefulness of their very own private space without needing to worry about nagging adults and bullies. You certainly didn’t want to make the first move to approach Steve, so instead you hung out by yourself, taking in everything all at once.

“Sorry to crash your girl time.” Steve floated up behind you, alarming you as you lost your balance on the uneven lake floor. 

“Sorry! I’m so sorry!” He sprang into action, clutching your arm gently, keeping you up until you gained some sort of stability. 

You let out a relieved breath and finally grinned, getting to meet his eyes. “Don’t be sorry…about crashing…and the jump scare.” 

He returned the smile, nodding his head forward, signaling you to swim with him, and you did, “Max and El complained ten minutes after you guys left and begged Eddie to drive us all here. It wasn’t working up until El threatened she’d rat on Eddie’s drug deals.” 

You giggled, a little water filling your mouth as you swam deeper, feet now unable to touch the ground beneath you, so instantaneously you grabbed the closest thing…or you should say person near you and that was Steve’s wrist. 

“I got you, don’t worry.” He assured you comfortingly, remaining in your spot in the middle of the body of water. The sky grew darker and you could hear the rumbling of thunder that would soon come closer any minute now. 

“Do you guys come out here often?” Steve asked, examining your face while you gawked up at the sky, watching the tiny tiny drops of rain that began to plummet. 

You turned slightly, nodding your head, “Just to get away, but this is the first time we’re here during a storm,”

“There’s a first time for everything, right?” He replied softly, giving your hand a squeeze with his free hand,

“r-right.” your voice shook, melting into his touch.

It was as if you traded positions now. Him staring up at the sky, rain beginning to fall down quicker in bigger drops. He squinted and cursed under his breath, whipping away at his eyes when a raindrop plunged straight into his orbs, making you stifle a cackle. 

You drew him closer by the shoulder to face you fully, “Here, let me see,” your hands letting go of his arm that you gripped on, counting on him to hold you in place to keep you from sinking. Thumbing around his eyes smoothly, you wiped away whatever water particles that were dropped, letting your fingers rest at the high points of his cheeks when you were done.

“He looks like an angel,” you thought to yourself

He blushed, more rain tumbling down and coating your skins, practically blessing you in the cold kiss, “Thanks” 

“I said that out loud?!” 

He bowed, smirking now, realizing that you didn’t even intend for him to hear you say that. Now he knew that you felt it. The magic. And it was about to be sealed, the two of you leaning closer until Robin’s voice echoed and thunder struck. 

“Get your asses back up here! Storms coming in!” 

_

“Hey Steven, I’ve been holding back this feeling

So I’ve got some things to say to you

I’ve seen it all, so I thought

But I never seen nobody shine the way you do”

You bit on finger nails, trotting the front of the Byers-Hopper resident, as it was your last resort at getting some advice without risking running into Steve. It had been two weeks. Two entire weeks since the lake incident and even when you ran into Steve, you made sure the interaction was short and quick. A “hello, how are you doing? That sounds good! I have to go, bye!” was the normal conversation now as you couldn’t bear to face him after almost kissing him. 

Your knuckles were about to knock on the door again, but halted midway when Mrs. Byers opened up the door with a sparkling smile on her face, welcoming you in, “Hey sweetie! Come in, come on.” 

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Byers.” You said hastily toeing off your shoes and entering her home. 

She led you into the living room, gesturing you to sit on the couch. “Are you looking for El? Or Nancy? They’re at the arcade with the kids, honey. I could give you a ride if—“ 

You shook your head, cutting her sentence off as she oh’d and waited for you to speak. “I like this boy. And I really need advice, but I can’t really go to Nance or Robin about it ‘cause they’re with the guy right now. And I really can’t talk to my own mother about it since, I don’t know, I don’t want it to be awkward or anything. And I most definitely can’t talk to Mrs. Wheeler about it since the guy and—“ 

She snickered, slowing you down, taking a seat beside you, and pulling your arms into her lap as she smiled, “Take it easy, sweetheart, I’m all ears alright? You can tell me everything you feel comfortable telling me, and I’ll try to give you the best advice I can.” 

You needed that more than anything, so you hugged her, and you hugged her tightly. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Byers—“ 

“Joyce.” She corrected rubbing your back then drawing away as she pushed the stray hairs away from your face. 

“Thank you, Joyce…I just really like this guy, but I don’t know how to tell him or if I even should.” Your head rested in your hands now, mind racing with a million “what if’s” all going in the right and wrong direction, depending on how you would approach this situation. 

Joyce rested a hand on your back, rubbing up and down soothingly like a mother would, “Honey, why don’t we start off with what you like about the boy?” 

Your list went on for the next fifteen minutes as she sat there, beaming with pride at how enamored you were over this guy. I mean, you just kept going on and on about how kind and hardworking he was. How he had this entire character development, and it wasn’t some sort of phase in order to be liked by other people, but how he genuinely changed to be a better person. 

“He’s just wonderful…everything about him, he’s practically perfect.” Your hands crossed over one another in the air, finishing up your spiel and taking a deep breath before looking at Joyce, who was still smiling from ear to ear. 

“He sounds like it, sweetheart. I just don’t understand why you’re scared to confess how you feel.” Her forehead creased, and you exhaled sadly.

“I hate rejection. I fear it. And, Steve, he’s amazing and I don’t know if I’ll be able to live with myself knowing that I ruined a perfectly good friendship, all because I couldn’t look past some feelings.” 

She hummed when you mentioned his name for the first time since for the past twenty minutes you were referring to the mystery guy as “him or he.” Steve was a good kid. She knew that for sure. He had apologized to Jonathan for some poor behavior in the past, but made the effort to change and actually stuck to his guns.

He was good. Good for you. 

“Honey, there is no doubt in my mind that Steve may share these romantic feelings for you after what you told me, but you’ll never know if you don’t say anything. The worst that will happen is that he says he just doesn’t feel the same. And if that’s the case, just know that there is someone out there who will care and adore you unconditionally.” 

Joyce was right, and you hated to admit that, partly because you just didn’t want to hear Steve utter the words, “I don’t like you back” but because you had been so good at not getting swept off your feet. The last relationship you had was back in sophomore year, and the guy was a total jerk—like the old Steve. It wasn’t the fact that you were scared of old Steve coming back, but more so the idea that you weren’t good enough for the new Steve, and how were you going to be able to keep up with a catch like him? 

But fuck it. Here goes nothing.

“Does that ride to the arcade still stand?” 

Joyce screeched, kissing your cheek excitedly as she stood up grabbing her car keys, and hurrying you out to the car where she drove you to the whole ten minutes down the arcade where she gave you a hug in the parking lot and again pushed you to get the man of your dreams. 

“The way you walk, way you talk, way you say my name

It’s beautiful, wonderful, don’t you ever change

Hey Stephen, why are people always leaving?

I think you and I should stay the same”

Wrapping your fingers around the door, you pulled it open, swarmed by the chatter and sound effects coming from the machines in the arcade. Your eyes trailed around, trying to find him or any of your friends…but there he was. Playing PacMan, of course, with Dustin and Eddie practically breathing down his neck trying to knock him off his game so that he wouldn’t beat his high score. The others were doing there own thing to keep themselves entertained on this weekend.

You smiled at the scene, sneaking a few feet behind them in order to conceal yourself as you listened closely to their conversation, even if it felt a little wrong to do so. 

“Stevie you suck!” Eddie rocked out, making up his own tune and lyrics to distract a very focused Steve. 

Dustin played air guitar on the right side of Steve as Eddie continued, “You’ll never beat my score, you’re just bad luck!” 

“Would you two please just…shut…up.” Steve exhaled, evidently agitated, just wanting to beat Eddie’s goddamn high score on this thing without being tormented by the two boys who were making up insults to get him fired up.

“He’s getting angry, knuckles clenched, about to blow…here we gooooo, but noooooooo!” Eddie erratically drummed his fingers on Steve’s shoulders just a few points away from beating the high score then—

“Hi guys!” Your voice peeped happily as you finally approached them. Steve quickly rotating, totally ignoring the stupid game and taking in all of you. Your oversized pullover and shorts. Beautifully messy hair. And even more beautiful face.

“Hey look who decided to show up and hang with the cool kids!” Eddie teased, reaching over to give you a quick hug, followed by Dustin, who did the same. 

“H-hey!” Steve rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly giving you a warm smile since the last time you two properly talked was at the lake and since then he hasn’t gotten the chance to catch up with you.

“Hi Steve,” you grinned, eyes never learning his the second you made eye contact.

“Mrs. Byers actually gave me a ride here. I know I turned down Eddie’s invitation, but I just needed to talk to her about something first.”

It should’ve been weird, the way you and Steve were just staring at each other, but it wasn’t, not until Dustin quirked up, “Well, what was it?” 

Both sets of eyes snapped away from one another, turning to the youngest who smiled like a maniac, and Eddie, who was sensing the tension between you and Steve but not thinking anything of it.

“Y’know, just boy advice, that’s all.” 

You didn’t see Steve’s eyes as they glimmered, but there was a sense of worry behind them. Had you found someone else? 

Eddie and Dustin gasped, “You like a boy!?” 

“Shut up, you guys!” You reached over, pinching their arms, finally getting them to stop acting like toddlers, especially in front of the guy you had a huge crush on. 

They apologized halfheartedly, still snorting to themselves, “Soooo this guy…” Steve’s voice started catching your attention. 

“Do we know him?” He crossed his arms over his chest, staring at you skeptically. And you built up a new sense of confidence after the pep talk Joyce gave you and you nodded your head, “Very, well actually.” 

I mean, it was pretty obvious who you were talking about, right? You were practically eyeing Steve the entire conversation, so he had to know. He was just playing coy…right?

“Well, I mean, I’m having a party at my place tomorrow. You think he’ll be there?” 

Your smile widened, and you nodded quickly, “He’ll be there. Absolutely.” 

A hand patting your back roughly caused you to turn your head, “This is great! Can’t wait to meet the mystery guy! I’ll pick you and Robin up tomorrow, and we’ll head to Steve’s and meet your guy there.” Eddie wiggled his brow as you rolled your eyes.

“Can I come too? Please!” Dustin clasped his hands together, whining as the three of you shook your heads, the kids were never invited to Steve’s parties when there was alcohol present and tomorrow would be no different. 

It could wait one more day. Tomorrow you’d be the first to admit your feelings. 

_

“They’re dimming the street lights

You’re perfect for me

Why aren’t you here tonight?

I’m waiting alone now

So come on and come out

And pull me near

And shine, shine, shine”

Smoothing out the wrinkles on your jeans, you looked in the mirror, appreciating the way you cleaned up for tonight. Deciding to go for the simple casual look with a cropped white tee and your favorite pair of jeans that fit perfectly, paired with your beat up chucks. Today was the day. Operation, get the man of your dreams, as Joyce liked to call it.

A honking of the car horn startled you, your feet speedily taking you to your bedroom window to see Eddie waving his hand out his window while Robin shouted your name from the passenger seat. 

“I’m coming!” You hollered, sealing your blinds shut and frantically grabbing your purse before jogging down the stairs and shouting a goodbye to your parents who sat on the couch watching late night television. 

When you approached the van, passing Eddie’s window, he sighed, “Finally, you took foreverrrr.” Eddie says sarcastically, looking into the backseat of the van as you got in and shut the door loudly, rolling your eyes, “It was like thirty seconds, Munson, and seriously, one day you’re going to give me a heart attack.” 

“You’ll live.” 

Robin shifted around his her seat, “Munson tells me your crush is going to be at the party tonight.” She plays along, already knowing who the guy is, especially after you confided in her and Nancy after the *almost* kiss in the lake. 

“Yeah, I think I’m going to come clean to him tonight….tell him how I really feel.” 

She squealed, clapping her hands excitedly as you finally gathered up the courage to tell Steve that you liked him and no matter the outcome, she was going to be proud of you. It had been a good year and a half since you met someone who swept you off your feet, like Steve did. And it didn’t help the fact that she could read Steve like the back of her hand and she knew that it was mutually pining between you and him. 

“Have you told Nancy?!” you shook your head, “I’ll tell her as soon as we see her.” you responded as she squealed again while Eddie just listened in, anticipating meeting this special guy.

When the three of you finally arrived, you all made your way into the residence. Eddie parting ways to do a couple of deals while you and Robin headed towards the drink table where you found Nancy and Jonathan cuddled up with red solo cups in their hands. It was nice knowing you had full support from Robin and especially Nance with the whole Steve situation. You knew that they wouldn’t let you do this if they didn’t think Steve was good enough for you and you definitely trusted their advice, considering your two best friends were in healthy relationships now. 

Time ticked. About an hour went by and you had yet to come across, let alone find Steve. You, Robin, and Nancy split up, checking every room and area of the damn house, hoping to find him and lead him to you. I mean, it was his own goddamn party, so where the hell could he be? 

“Don’t stress, cupcake, he’s probably just late.” Eddie declared with a cigarette in his mouth, watching your figure pace the porch with what was your third drink of the night in your hand.

You shook your head and glanced up at him through your lashes, evidently not satisfied with that excuse, “You don’t understand, Eddie, he’s supposed to be here.” 

“Maybe he ran out to get beers or something?” Robin suggested from where she sat on the garden bench, head on Nancy’s shoulder while Jonathan kept quiet to himself, not really understanding what was going on thanks to the palm tree delight he bought from Eddie half an hour ago. 

You weren’t content with that either, instead you tipped your cup of spiked punch to your lips, letting the liquid flow down your throat, assuming it would ease some of the stress and worry you were feeling in his very moment. 

Your friends couldn’t stand seeing you like this. I mean, you must have had to be head over heels over this guy, especially he had you resorting to drinking when you usually, didn’t,

“Gosh, come here.” Nancy’s arm sprang out, pulling you mid walk into the last empty spot on the bench. 

She and Robin both wrapped their arms around you in a soothing hold, knowing you needed this. Whenever you were anxious, a good ole’ hug always made you feel safe and secure. 

“He’s going to be here alright, then you can talk to him in private and tell him how you feel.” Robin murmured against your neck, hand rubbing comforting circles on your back as your breathing calmed down. 

Nancy hummed in accord, pushing away the strays of your hair behind your ear, “And we’re going to be here if anything goes wrong. We’re not leaving without you.” 

At that moment, your eyes caught the maroon BMW that you rode in a couple of times since the two of you became friends. It came to a stop, parking just a few feet away from you in the driveway, then the driver’s door opened and there he was. 

Your breathing hitched, watching his every move in slow motion, and then your friends gave you a strengthening pat on the back before they pulled away. “It’s now or never,” you sighed, standing up, your grip on your solo cup tightening as some sort of comfort fidget. 

But the comfort was soon ripped away from you when the cup and its remnants splattered onto the concrete when you saw Marissa get out of his passenger seat. 

“Oh, my god,” lips quivering and your voice barely a whisper anymore

Your heart was breaking, and the tears were beginning to form. You should’ve known that he would pick her, let alone any other girl, over you any day. She was beautiful, popular, and well liked. She’d been throwing rocks at his window while you were waiting around, doing nothing but crushing on a boy you knew you couldn’t have. 

“Hey…woah are you ok?” Steve approached you, just as your drink fell and you nodded, stuck in the place in front of him as your feet couldn’t bear to move right now. 

“Stevie, wanna go in and dance?” Marissa’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard, eating you and all the happy moments you and Steve shared up. 

You cringed, shutting your eyes tightly, causing two tears to leak from each eye, Steve obviously noticing it thanks to the streetlights that lit up the neighborhood. 

He turned his head, shaking his head at the girl, “No, no, you just head inside, alright?” she wailed again, before heading inside all by herself. 

You felt a pair of hands come up to hold your shoulders and you flinched, forcing your teary eyes to snap open and stare into Steve’s, “What’s going on? Why’re you crying? Did your guy do something?” 

Was this a sick joke the world was playing on you? The lump in your throat was supposed to stop you from speaking a single word from him, but it didn’t as you muttered a low, “forget about it,” shrugging his hands off of you roughly and walking away from his home, needing to get away from him and everything that reminding you of him. 

“Holy shit.” Eddie and Jonathan muttered to themselves quietly as they watched the scene unfold. The realization hitting them that Steve was mystery guy all along. Jesus, they were slow.

The girls grimaced, instantly standing up and grabbing the two men to go after you. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” Steve snagged onto Robin’s arm as she passed him swiftly, frowning as she pushed it away from her. 

“I need to go after my best friend, alright?” She left it at that, her, Nancy, and Jonathan running after you down the street. 

Eddie shook his head, standing face to face with Harrington, “You just made the biggest mistake of your life, dude.” he threw his cigarette onto the ground, stomping it out before going after you and leaving Steve a confused mess on the porch. 

Was it a poor choice for a buzzed you to show up at Joyce’s home on a Friday night? 

Sure, but you had no other place to go, and you definitely didn’t want your parents to worry over seeing you crying hysterically over a boy who wasn’t yours. So you begged Jonathan to let you stay at his home, and usually he wouldn’t mind, but at this point you were sad-drunk, a hot mess with a mascara tear soaked face and extremely messy hair. The last thing he wanted was a lecture from Joyce and Hop about parties, but he knew you needed a place to stay so he opened up the doors for you.

“I hate him! I never wanna see his stupid…dumb…perfect….handsome face….ever…again!”

Your fists pounded into Eddie’s chest as you drunkenly continued to break down while he held you up and Nancy and Robin, rushed Jonathan to get the door open with his spare key that he just so happened forgot in his other pair of jeans—

“What the hell—” The front door whipped open, and there was Hopper, standing in his pajamas, staring at the teens who tried to explain themselves.

Thankfully, Joyce came to the rescue, immediately pulling you into her arms once she saw your state, “Girls’ only!” she called out, stopping the moments of the guys who were following. She led your crying body into the guest bedroom where you plopped down onto the mattress, letting the sheets soak in your tears. 

Joyce listened as Robin and Nancy explained the entire situation. How you were supposed to come clean to Steve and tell him how much the romantic feelings for him have grown over the past two months, but instead you were met with the harsh reality that Steve had already found someone. 

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry.” She rubbed your back kindly, as you continued to sob, feeling so pathetic for even thinking that Steve would feel the same for you.

Maybe he was just leading you on. Maybe he didn’t change at all. He was still the same player from high school who broke the hearts of girls who actually liked him. 

“You’ll get over him, sweetheart…you’re a good girl who deserves someone who doesn’t think you’re the second choice.” Joyce continued to console you through the tears, while Robin and Nancy excused themselves, going to get some water and tissues for you. 

There they found the boys. Eddie, Jonathan, and Hopper, sitting on the couch in uncomfortable silence as your cries from the hallway filled the home. The situation would’ve been ever more pressing if they had to explain to the kids that their hero babysitter was actually a prick, but thankfully, they were spending the night at the Wheelers.

“Is she ok?” Eddie stood up quickly. He could kill Steve, to be honest, but he didn’t need Hooper on his ass for another reason other than his drug dealing. 

The two girls shook their heads, “She’s a wreck—umm Jonathan, do you’ve got any tissues around?” Nancy proposed, and he coughed stiffly, nodding as he led her into one of the closets, passing her a fresh box of unopened tissues. 

“I think she’s going to crash here tonight, so Nance and I will make sure she gets home safe tomorrow morning. In the meantime, just keep it hush, alright? She already feels terrible.” Robin told them, as they all nodded their heads. 

That night, you laid in the middle of the queen sized bed, as the girls did their very best to comfort you through this heartache. Cracking jokes at Steve’s expense to make you laugh a little. Putting on some tunes that would lift your spirits. And even having an impromptu movie night, scarfing down popcorn, chips, and soda to make you feel better. 

_ 

“We should totally go!” Robin gleefully threw an arm around your shoulders as the three of you walked down the school’s halls. Nancy had picked off a flyer from the school’s bulletin board about the upcoming Hawkins’ fair that would feature a few booths from school to help raise money for this year’s extra-curricular activities like the sports team and the news writing club. 

You shrugged and sighed. “I’m not really in the mood to go out.” 

You really weren’t in the mood for anything these days. Instead, you opted to stay locked in your room, journaling about how you felt, knowing it was your safest bet on not looking like a lovesick fool in front of your friends. Plus, hanging out with the whole gang meant risking running into Steve, and that was the last thing you wanted. If you had to throw away your social life for the rest of senior year in order to avoid him, then you would.

And you weren’t kidding either.

“It’ll be fun…we’ll play a bunch of stupid fair games, then eat a bunch of stupid fair food, and maybe we’ll even win one of those ridiculously stupid teddy bears.” Nancy tries to convince you, poking your side gently, making a small smile break out on your face. 

The fair was a week away, so you had plenty of time to decide if you wanted to go or not. You didn’t know if you’d be in the right head space when the date came closer, so just to be safe, you left the plans up in the air. Nancy and Robin gave you a comforting hug as they went off to their last period of the day, but since you were waaay caught up on credits, you had a free period to either stay back at school or head home. Today you decided to stay back, heading into the empty music room to get some peace, knowing that no one spent their free period there and you’d have it all to yourself. 

“Finally.” You murmured, tossing down your backpack as you took a seat in one of the chairs, before reaching in and pulling out your journal and jotting down the thoughts that lingered in your head today. 

It was nice being able to have some peace and quiet, especially after being surrounded by noisy classrooms and students. You hummed softly, as you wrote freely, not noticing the door to the music room opening and the figures coming closer to you. 

“What’re you doing here?” 

“Holy shit!” You jumped in your chair, notebook flying out of your hand and landing with a smack on the floor as you looked up and saw Eddie and some of his friends from Corroded Coffin.

You groaned, reaching over and slapping Eddie on the arm harshly. “Eddie, you can’t just sneak up on me like that! I could’ve punched you or something!” 

He and the guys laughed, apologizing before Eddie bent down, picking up your book. His eyes didn’t mean to read the contents, but he really couldn’t miss the name that was written about five times, followed by some catchy and corny phrases. He smiled as he passed it back to you. 

“You wrote a song about Steve?” He pulled a chair out, remaining in front of you as you furrowed your eyebrows and shook your head. 

“It’s just some stupid writing.” You clarified, looking back down into your book and rereading them in your head. 

His bandmates took a seat as well, giving you a smile and hello, “Do you guys want me to leave? I didn’t know you had band practice.” 

“What was that tune that you were humming?” Eddie waved off your question as you peered at him, perplexed. 

He motioned his hands at you, telling you to repeat the melody, and you sighed, rolling your eyes as you did. 

Eddie repeated it and laughed, pulling your notebook to him, reading the lyrics in his head. You were a goddamn genius without even knowing it. 

“Do you hum this every time you write?” He asked curiously, and you shrugged, pulling your precious notebook full of your secrets to your chest. 

“I hum all the time…but that specific tune only for this entry.” You told him as he sat back in his chair and looked over at you, “I’m gonna hum that melody and I want you to sing those lines. Just whatever feels right, sing it that way.” 

“Eddie, it’s not a song, it’s just a—“ 

He placed a hand over yours, giving you those eyes followed by a “trust me.” 

You sighed, rolling your eyes as you opened up the book to those pages, singing quietly enough for Eddie to hear as he hummed the melody over and over, putting his little twist on it as you got further into the sweet lyrics…and bam! 

You were a goddamn song writer. 

“Holy shit.” Gareth smirked, clapping his hands as you finished up the first chorus. 

Soon, the rest of the guys; Jeff, Kevin, and Eddie followed. “You need to perform this song,” his fingers dug into the table, basically demanding you to do this outrage thing that was totally out of your comfort zone.

“No! Are you insane!” You argued, shutting the notebook close and stuffing it back into your backpack, hiding it away from ever being seen again. 

“At the fair…we have a set, but we can give you like five minutes and you can open and perform this song!” Eddie rubbed his hands together excitedly, already planning it, as you shook your head with wide eyes in panic. 

“You know I absolutely cannot go and do that! You expect me to just name drop Steve out in the open like that? Especially after he practically ripped my heart into shreds!“ 

Eddie shushed you, gripping your shoulders in his hands. “I know that your heart still feels broken, but it’s going to stay that way if you never get those things you’ve been wanting to say off your chest. You wrote this for a reason, believe it or not. You deserve to tell him how you feel, and the least he can do is listen.” 

You swallowed, not wanting to admit that Eddie was finally right about something. You had avoided Steve for the past few days and there was still so much you wanted to say to him, even after the incident that happened on that Friday night. You wanted him to know that you really did have true and deep feelings for him. That he messed up overlooking a gem of a girl who was ready and willing to give the world to him because you liked the real Steve.

Not the one that threw drunken weekend parties, but….

The one who wasn’t scared to swim in the middle of god knows where during a storm. 

The one who wore that stupid Scoops Ahoy uniform and ripped off the stupid hat, breaking company policy. 

The one who babysat freshman since he didn’t have anything better to do. 

The one who would offer you rides when you and Robin would spend the entire night at the theaters with no one left to take you home. 

The one and only Steven Harrington. 

“Fine. But you promise I won’t make a fool out of myself?” 

You held your pinky finger out between the two of you and he chuckled, nodding his head, hooking his with yours. 

“And I want a ride after this. To the mall.” 

It was like it was supposed to happen, and everything felt so right. The guys had sprung into action, pitching ideas as they strummed and hit their instruments, coming up with a harmony that would compliment the melody and lyrics. It definitely wasn’t close to metal, more like country pop, but by god it sounded great and they were not going to miss out on this type of talent. When the last bell of the day rang, you thanked each of the guys with a smile and hug before practically dragging Eddie to his van, demanding he drive quickly to StarCourt. 

And now you were here. Maneuvering through the crowded mall with Eddie trailing quickly behind you, trying to get you to slow down, but it only made you want to walk faster until you pulled the doors open. 

“What are we doing here?”

“Steve!” you shouted, quickly grabbing his attention, dropping the scooper and hopping over the counter to stand in front of you.

He had tried to call your home phone, but you never picked up seeing his caller ID. And when he asked Robin, or Nancy, or anyone about you, they’d tell him you weren’t feeling well and were avoiding everyone. But he didn’t believe any of it. Not even for a second. You wouldn’t do that. 

“H-hey, hey, I’ve been worried sick about you—I mean, I haven’t seen you for like five days and that’s a while. You usually come around to hang out with Robin or just to talk…and you haven’t been around, at least when I’m around…did I do something?” 

His voice was unsteady and rapid, trying his best to act relaxed about it, but he wasn’t going to let you run away this easily. He wanted answers. Why were you avoiding him? He needed to know so he could make it all better. Or at least try to. 

“Come to the fair…the one happening in a week.” You told him instantly, standing up straight and not letting your guard down for even a second.

He stared blankly at you, confused, but still he nodded, “Y-yeah, sure. Of course. I’ll be there.” 

You smiled, getting the answer you wanted, “I’ll see you then,” you turned on your heels, about to walk out, but he grabbed onto your arm gently. 

“Wait, just…just give me a second, alright. I want you to have something.” 

He gave you a hopeful smile, as you sighed, nodding your head as you watch him rush to the backroom. You could hear Eddie making some joking comments from behind you, but you ignored him, watching Steve step back out with a bowl of ice cream in his hands, quickly bringing it to you and placing it in your hands.

Vanilla ice cream topped off with sprinkles, two lines of chocolate sauce, and a little dollop of whipped cream.

“I make one every day…..in case you come in.” He said, as you eyed the treat and your heart began to race a little. 

You wanted to jump into his arms and tell him how much you liked him, but instead you settled for a thank you and a smile. Walking out of the store with Eddie smiling behind you like an idiot and Steve left standing, wondering why you were acting so casual when he was clearly into you.

_

For the past four minutes, you had been immersed in the story of you and Steve. Not paying attention to the large crowd that formed, swaying and cheering along to your singing frame that waltzes around the stage without a care in the world. 

And Steve. He was beside himself, feeling so dumb for not making a move quick enough. How you liked him so much that you wrote him a song, but the only thing he did was give you a damn bowl of ice cream that just so happened to be your new go-to and favorite.

But as the last set of lyrics from the bridge left your mouth, you slowed down your dancing. Placing the mic back onto the stand as you beamed at Steve, wanting him to know that in this moment you were only seeing him, and this was for him. 

“Hey Steven, I could give you 50 reasons

Why I should be the one you choose

All those other girls, well, they’re beautiful

But would they write a song for you?”

He smirked, shaking his head and mouthing you a “no!” as you finally laughed. Actually, let out a laugh that perfectly went with the song before getting pulled into the chorus one last time. 

“I can’t help it if you look like an angel

Can’t help it if I wanna kiss you in the rain, so

Come feel this magic I’ve been feeling since I met you

Can’t help it if there’s no one else

Mmm, I can’t help myself”

You took a deep breath as your song finished up. Totally surprised by the overwhelming applause you received from the town and your friends, but especially Steve, who shouted out a, “you rock!” making you giggle. You quickly bowed, gesturing towards the band who made it all possible, walking over to give Eddie a giant hug. 

��Killed it, sweetheart.” He whispered into your hair as you grinned, pulling away, “All thanks to you…and hey, thanks for encouraging me to do this.” 

“Don’t mention it…now go get your Steven.” His voice teasing, finger pointed at Steve in the crowd, who waved at you, gesturing over to the side of the stage, wanting to meet you there. 

“Wish me luck.” You sighed, giving him a smile as he nodded. 

You gave the crowd one last wave before Corroded Coffin went back to their regular programming, heavy metal and punk as you jogging off to the side of the stage where Steve was already waiting. Hands in his jean pockets, staring down at the grass before you cleared your throat, coming closer to him, just inches away. 

“H-hey.” You said quietly, with a smile, hoping this wasn’t too awkward. 

He let out a relieved sigh and smiled too, “Hey yourself…I….I’m stupid for not chasing after you that night.” 

You nodded, remaining quiet as you tucked your hands behind your back, digging your nails into your palms anxiously,

“I know it looked bad, but it really wasn’t what it seemed. She is nothing but a stranger, I swear. I don’t feel anything for her...at all. I just gave her a ride since I didn’t want her to be stranded after her friends left her on the side of the road.” 

He tried his best to explain it to you, and you listened, heart still stinging a bit,

“All this time, it’s been you…and I meant it when I said I didn’t want to waste any time on another empty relationship. I don’t want to waste any time with another girl because I want you and only you. These past couple of days, I’ve been feeling unfulfilled, and that’s because you’re not around.” 

Your mouth hung open and your heart raced a million times over the speed limit, he removed his hands from his pockets, gently reaching to grab yours from behind your back and holding each of them in his, “I like you and I like you a lot…i know I messed up, but I can make it up to you if you let—“ 

Without a second thought, you drove your head forward, connecting your lips together in the most electrifying kiss of your life. The sparks flew, and you felt the magic coursing around the two of you. His lips moved against yours, arms moving to pull you tighter, basically hugging your bodies together as you gripped onto his shoulders, deepening the kiss, only pulling away when you felt droplets of rain coming down slowly. 

You giggled, blinking up at the sky, both of you realizing how ironic the situation was, especially after the lyrics you had just sung out for him. 

“That’s means I like you too.” You grinned softly, resting your forehead against his as you two dorks gawked at each other, filled with so much lust and affection. 

“How does it go again?” He rose his brows, swaying your body in his cages, “I can’t help it if I wanna kiss you in the raaaainnnn sooooooo!” He sang it loud and proudly as you threw your head back, giggling uncontrollably as you playfully tried to push him away, but he wasn’t going to let you go this easily.

Not this time. Not ever again. 

You shut him up with a kiss and he returned it, still mumbling the lyrics against you, making the laugher never stop.

He finally pulled away, your face in his hands now as he took in your features and those bright eyes, “Let’s go win you one of those stupid teddy bears, I want you to write another song about me!” 

“Of course you do, Steven.” You rolled your eyes jokingly, squealing as he kissed you again, feeling your smile against his lips, which he was sure was ear to ear, and now he was certain he was never letting you go.

And you never looked back as he dragged you into a lifetime of happiness and fulfillment that you never thought was possible. 

He was your Steven and many more love songs that you marvelously wrote.

A/N: I know it was long, but I hope you guys enjoyed it! This is my first fic I am ever publishing on tumblr so I really appreciate all comments you guys leave <3 I’m also planning to write a bunch of Steve and Eddie (maybe even Robin) fics based on taylor swift songs!!!

[jaemrkist]

speak now

pairing: mark lee x gender neutral reader

wc: 1,400+

genre: fluff and angst i think

warnings: none

summary: weddings are days full of love and joy for the happy couple. you wish you could be someone who saw this day as a joyful day but how could you when the love of your life is marrying someone else?

a/n: happy late valentine's day! i wanted to have this posted earlier but i got super busy with school so it's late. inspired by the taylor swift song if the summary and title weren't obvious enough.

—————

it was a nice day outside. the sun was free from the shadow of clouds and the weather was not too hot but not too cold either. you were dressed in formal attire, as one would at a wedding. you weren’t here to celebrate a wedding though. you weren’t the type of person who would do this on someone’s wedding day, but you couldn’t let mark marry someone else without knowing how you felt about him.

mark was your ex-boyfriend. the two of you dated for almost 4 years before you broke up with him. you knew you were a stupid person for breaking up with someone you loved so much but you felt scared for the future. you felt that it was impossible for someone to see a future with you despite mark telling you multiple times he wants to be with you for eternity. 3 years later and you still regret your dumb decision, but you came here to fix that. you and mark stayed in touch after the breakup via social media and having mutual friends. when you found out he was seeing someone else, it broke your heart. it also didn’t help that his girlfriend hated your guts.

“y/n y/l/n.”

“i’m sorry but your name isn’t on the list. are you sure you rsvp to the ceremony?”

you rolled your eyes at the poor man who was just trying to do this job by managing who came in. you knew you said you were coming but it seemed likely that the bride had your name taken off the guest list without mark knowing. when you were thinking of how you could get into the church, someone put their arm around your shoulder.

“we actually came together. my name is na jaemin.”

you looked over at were greeted with a smile by jaemin. you and jaemin had been friends since college and he was the one to introduce you to mark. jaemin was one of the mutual friends you and mark had after the breakup, so he knew how it affected the both of you.

“oh great. welcome, you guys can head right in. enjoy the wedding,” the man said.

you and jaemin walked in. jaemin still had his hand on your shoulder until you guys were away from the door so you wouldn’t get caught.

“thanks for doing that,” you said.

“no problem. i’d do this for all my friends who strangely attend the wedding of their ex,” jaemin said, laughing at how ridiculous the sentence sounds.

you shoved his shoulder and laughed with him.

“no but seriously don’t you think it’ll be a little awkward for you to come? i mean i’m glad you did don’t get me wrong.”

“i don’t know. i just felt like i had to. i wanted to see mark one last time i guess.”

“you act like once he’s married you two will never speak again.”

“oh come on, you know she doesn’t like me. i doubt she’ll let her husband speak to his ex once they're married.”

jaemin nodded along. you did have a point, mark’s fiance has been a little controlling of mark’s life recently.

“well, i’m gonna go to the grooms’ room and check on him before the wedding starts. whatever you secretly have planned in that head of yours, i hope it goes well,” jaemin said, adding a wink at the end of his sentence. he began walking towards the hall and you were left standing alone.

how obvious was it that you had an idea? maybe it was just because jaemin knows you so well but you began to overthink and worry that others know you still love mark. you walk around the venue to clear your mind and accidentally cross paths with the bride’s family. they were all dressed in pastel pink, the accent color of the wedding. you tried to casually hide behind a waiter who was walking around so you weren’t stopped by someone. sure the family didn’t know who you were, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t stop to ask how you know the couple.

you ended up walking to the bathroom and hiding in there while you gathered yourself. you began to daydream about possible ways this could end. you could tell mark before the wedding starts, that way it is private and only the two of you. you could also just walk out and pretend none of this even happened. or, you could tell him while he’s at the altar.

while in your thoughts, you hear someone outside say that the wedding will start shortly. mark must already be at the alter so your first idea is a bust. i can’t just walk out now. i’ve already made it into here, you tell yourself. you shake your head to clear your thoughts and walk out of the bathroom.

you make your way to the room where the wedding will take place and sit in the far back. you look over to the altar and see mark with his best man haechan and groomsmen johnny and jaehyun. you wonder if mark wishes it was you who will stand with him at the alter.

the organist began playing a melody indicating that the bride was on her way. the usually happy song sounded like a death march to you at this moment.

everyone stood up and waited for the doors to open. once the door opened, flower girls began throwing white and pink rose petals down the aisle. the bride followed after them. you thought her dress made her look like a pastry but she still looked pretty. she walked down the aisle as if it was a beauty pageant runway.

when she reached the alter, mark put his hands out for her to hold. they held hands while the preacher gave a speech. you rolled your eyes at the preacher describing their lives as if it was some epic love story.

“if anyone has any objections speak now or forever hold your peace,” the preacher said.

he looked around the church. there was silence as people waited for the officiant’s sermon to continue. surely, they didn’t expect anyone to actually object to the wedding.

this is my last chance, you thought to yourself. you took a deep breath. am i really going to do this? the answer was yes. yes, you were really going to interrupt a wedding. you had to do this. when you finished thinking about it, you stood up and began fiddling with your fingers.

“i object,” you said.

there was a gasp from the bride’s parents as well as mark’s parents. other guests had horrified looks on their faces at your action. you didn’t pay attention to them though. you looked directly at mark who was looking back at you.

“i love you mark. i always have and i always will, whether you’re in my life or not. i just want you to know that. this wasn’t something i wanted to do in a million years but i couldn’t watch you marry someone else without knowing that i love you. i wish i could take back the heartache i caused all those years ago but i can’t. i hope you don’t hate me for anything i’ve done because i really wish i never did it”

mark was surprised by your speech. he didn’t think you still loved him after you broke up with him 3 years ago. he kept his eyes on you the entire time you declared your love for him. the bride-to-be looked at you and then mark with anger.

when mark stood there longer than you had hoped without saying anything, you began to walk out of the row you were in and headed towards the door. you took this as a sign of defeat and that maybe mark was truly over you.

“wait!” mark calls out.

you turned around when you heard mark’s voice. mark drops the girl’s hands and ran over to you. you smiled when you realized what was happening. he grabbed your hand and ran out of the church with you. you ran to your car and got in. mark sat on the passenger side and turned to grab your face when you got in. he pressed a long-awaited kiss on your lips. he had waited for this moment for years.

“i’m so glad you said something when the preacher said ‘speak now.’”

[iliveiloveiwrite]

winged cupid painted blind // Anthony Bridgerton

Request: I’d really love something based on love story by Taylor Swift. The lines “We keep quite cuz we’re dead if they knew” and “take me somewhere we can be alone” stick out to me //  I was thinking that the reader could be from a family that isn’t well off and her and Anthony meet at a ball somehow. They create a ruse that she’s from a well known family so that the gossips in the ton don’t attack her because Anthony has fallen in love with a “commoner.” All the Bridgertons are in on the ruse and at the end of the story Anthony proposes - @whovianwholikesgirls

A/N: Why is it that every Bridgerton fic I write, I end up writing thousands and thousands of words? This is long and I am sorry for that! As always, I hope I have done your request justice and that I hope you like!

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: she/her pronouns, female reader, class divides, pining, mutual pining, lots of fluff, dancing, kissing, happy ending, Anthony in love.

Word count: 7.7k

Madame Delacroix’s took up the central property on the most prosperous street coming just off of Grosvenor Square. The most popular modiste in London, many of society’s richest families flocked to her door in order to claim their own dress made by the talented seamstress.

Anthony sighs as he climbs down from the carriage. His mother must be in a particular benevolent mood to send him to pick up her newest dress from the modiste. Anthony would much rather be spending his day at his club, but he finds himself ringing the modiste’s bell for service.

“Monsieur Bridgerton!” Madame Delacroix smiles, delighted at the sight of the Viscount. “How can I help you?” She asks, her smile turning flirtatious.

Anthony responds with his own flirtatious smile. “I’m here to pick up a dress for my mother.”

“Of course, of course,” Madame Delacroix sings, “I have it over here. I finished it last night. It is divine!”

“My mother will surely thank you,” Anthony states earnestly, his gaze dancing around the room filled to the brim with fabrics and ribbons, models and hoops.

“No need,” Madame Delacroix, “The Bridgertons are my best customers.”

Anthony takes the offered box, marvelling at the lightness of its weight. For all the skirts, for all the numerous pieces of fabric that go into making a dress, Anthony will always remain shocked at the featherlight weight of it.

“Will Lady Bridgerton be wearing this to the Hastings’ ball tonight?” The modiste asks, her tone light as she tries her best to keep the burning curiosity out of her voice.

“Most likely,” Anthony smiles, tipping his head in goodbye.

The modiste calls out her goodbyes as Anthony walks out the door. He doesn’t pay much attention to where he is going; only knowing that he needs to turn left in order to reach his carriage. The very thought has him rushing, safe in the knowledge that the quicker he got his done, the quicker he would be at his club.

It’s that self-indulgent thought that had Anthony distracted enough to walk into something hard.

“Oh!” A feminine voice gasps as Anthony catches her elbow whilst keeping a tight hold on the dress box.

“My apologies,” Anthony offers, steadying the unknown woman.

“You’re forgiven,” She murmurs dryly, turning her attention back to the seamstresses window.

“You aren’t hurt, are you?”

“No, I’m perfectly fine. Thank you for your concern, Lord Bridgerton.”

“My pleasure, Miss…”

“(Y/L/N).”

“My pleasure, Miss (Y/L/N),” Anthony repeats, adjusting the dress box in his hands. He goes to say something else but notices her slyly counting the money in her purse, watching her frown when she realises she cannot afford the prices set by Madame Delacroix.

“Have a nice day, Lord Bridgerton,” Miss (Y/L/N) remarks, stepping away from the Viscount to begin her walk home. She didn’t need a Viscount to be witness to her money troubles; she had thought she had enough, but the prices must have been increased since the last time she had wandered past the window. It would be another two weeks of saving before she could afford a new set of ribbons; it wasn’t worth it at this point, she sighed to herself.

“You too!” Anthony shouts to her retreating figure, feeling upset on her behalf that she could not afford the ribbons she was so dazedly admiring. Shaking off the uncomfortable feeling, Anthony climbs into the carriage, thinking of the young woman all the way home.

-----

“Jayne!” (Y/N) laughs, “Slow down! I’m going to lose a shoe.”

“Alright, Cinderella,” Jayne snickers, slowing her pace as she climbs the winding staircase to the home of the Duke and Duchess of Hastings.

“Have you ever seen such a home?” (Y/N) gasps; eyes widening as she takes in the grand structure. The brickwork is immaculate; many red bricks painted black to give the impression of a crosshatch pattern spreading across the building. This is only highlighted by the many windows; all seemingly lit by a countless number of candles and sconces.

“(Y/N)!” Jayne shouts, “Stop admiring the building! We have a dance to get to.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” (Y/N) laughs, hurrying after her friend who has already handed over their invitation.

Jayne grips (Y/N)’s hand tightly as they enter the ballroom together. The event is in full swing; the dancefloor already full with couples dancing a quadrille.

“Would you dance with me?” The handsome brunette asks of Jayne, staring at her hopefully. Jayne casts her gaze to (Y/N), not wanting to leave her friend, but wanting very much to dance with the handsome man.

(Y/N) nudges Jayne forward, answering for her. “She would be delighted.”

Jayne sends her a thankful smile as she joins more and more couples on the dancefloor.

The drinks table isn’t busy at all as (Y/N) wanders over. She makes sure to keep an eye on Jayne, watching her dance with what looks to be a Rokesby. (Y/N) shakes her head fondly at her friend; ten minutes into a ball and she’s already caught the attention of a member of one of the richest families in England.

Turning her attention away from her friend, (Y/N) reaches for a glass of lemonade when her hand brushes with a man clearly wanting the same glass. (Y/N) pulls her hand away, not wanting to cause any trouble at a ball she wasn’t even invited to.

“My apologies,” She murmurs, grabbing another glass from the many.

“You’re forgiven,” A voice drawls. (Y/N) glances upwards through her lashes to find Anthony Bridgerton watching her with a confused expression.

“Lord Bridgerton,” (Y/N) greets, curtseying lightly at the sight of her superior.

Anthony nods. He remains silent as he stands next to her; it’s not an awkward silence, rather, one where (Y/N) can practically hear the cogs and gears winding in Anthony’s mind, trying to figure out where he knows her from. If he knows her at all.

“I met you this morning,” Anthony recalls suddenly, snapping his fingers together when he remembers why he recognises the woman standing next to him.

“You almost knocked me over,” She states wryly, lifting her glass to her lips to take a tentative sip of the lukewarm lemonade.

“I believe I apologised for that, Miss (Y/L/N).”

“Call me (Y/N). And I forgave you,” She states simply, “But It doesn’t mean I’m going to let you forget it, however.”

“I’d be disappointed in you, if you did.”

(Y/N) laughs. The very sound music to Anthony’s ears and he briefly wonders whether he could have the sound imprinted on his brain; to hear her laughter for an eternity.

“What are you doing here?” Anthony asks, taking a pull of his lemonade before wrinkling his nose. Too sweet, not sour enough. “Are you here with your parents?”

“I wasn’t technically invited,” She confesses to the Viscount in a conspiratorial whisper. Anthony’s eyes widen when her words land, “What?”

“I came to chaperone my friend, Jayne. You may know her, she’s Lord Dorchester’s daughter.”

Anthony nods; he knew the man well, drank with him a few times at his club – dreadfully dull with a fascination for military history. Much like many of the men of his father’s generation.

“Anyway,” (Y/N) continues, “Jayne wanted to go, but needed a chaperone as her mother has taken ill – nothing serious thankfully. I was the next best option so here I am.”

“Here you are,” Anthony parrots, enunciating every syllable as his eyes pour over her figure. “If you weren’t invited, what do you do for a living?”

“I’m a governess for Lord and Lady Saville,” She answers proudly; a happy smile on her face as she thinks of her students.

“I hated my governess,” Anthony confesses with a laugh. “I don’t care much for Latin which she knew so she would make me do double the work.”

(Y/N) snorts. “Latin is a very useful language; it’s a good skill to have.”

“I know that now,” Anthony gripes, “I just didn’t know that at ten years old.”

Silence descends between them. Again, not uncomfortable, but a natural stopping point in their conversation. After all, titled gentleman such as the man stood beside her didn’t speak to her occupation outside of a brief conversation about their child’s progress in their education.

(Y/N) places her finished glass of lemonade back on the table before smoothing out the deep blue skirts of her borrowed dress. She clears her throat, ready to make her excuses and check on Jayne when Anthony speaks first.

“Would you care to dance?”

“Pardon?”

“Would you like to dance with me?”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Why not?”

“I’m a governess, Lord Bridgerton.”

“Call me Anthony, please.”

“That still doesn’t change the fact that you’re supposed to dance with someone of your own class, Anthony.”

“I don’t want to dance with them. I want to dance with you.”

His argument is straight to the point; no beating around the bush that (Y/N) finds it hard to find fault with it. Instead, she sighs, “One dance.”

“One dance,” Anthony promises, holding out his hand for her to grasp.

She didn’t expect to find herself the centre of the Viscount’s attention, but she cannot bring herself to mind much. Not as he holds out a hand for her to take; not as he leads to her to the dancefloor and not as he settles a palm against her lower back. The feel of his hand feeling so right that she loses the power of speech.

The music begins and (Y/N) travels to a new place entirely. The room melts away; the couples, the families. They all disappear. The only two people in the room are her and Anthony; his blue eyes fixed on her as they start to circle the room in waltz. There’s no need for conversation; all words passed by looks alone.

When the music dies and the room fades back into view, (Y/N) only wonders whether she would feel like this again, whether they would be anyone to make her feel like this again. As Anthony bows and kisses her hand, (Y/N) has her answer.

----------

He doesn’t stop thinking about her. She left soon after they finished dancing; her friend finding her and asking whether she was ready to leave. Anthony wanted to argue; wanted to reach for (Y/N) and pull her back to his embrace where they could dance the night away.

Anthony returned home and went straight to his room. He undressed mechanically; still thinking of her as he slipped between his sheets and tried to fall asleep only to find that sleep was a fickle friend that would not be granting him a visit tonight.

He remains awake; thinking of every aspect of her. He didn’t think he would see her again after the modiste; it was a shock to find her at the ball, but he took the opportunity with both hands to find that he had quickly become infatuated with her.

Could this be called love? Anthony rolls over in bed; tangling himself up in the sheets as he runs a hand up and down his bare chest, thinking the question over and over.

He felt as if he had hit by the arrow of Cupid; as if he had handed himself over voluntarily to be pricked with one of the god’s arrows. He’s never felt like this; no woman had ever kept him awake at night in such a manner.

Groaning, Anthony reaches for the pillow on the other side of the bed, hugging it to his chest. All the while, he dreams it was her body he was pressing close to.

The day after the Ball, Anthony strides from his study to his mother’s drawing room. There, he sits next to his beloved mother, and asks her to gather his siblings for a family meeting.

They arrive one by one. The youngest arriving first; a simple call from the bottom of the stairs has Gregory and Hyacinth rushing to the drawing room, each one adamant that they didn’t do it, but rather their sibling. Anthony shakes his head in exasperation, not wanting to know what they were referring to and instead, asks them to take a seat on the pale blue couch in front of the window.

Over the course of an hour, Anthony’s family arrive. Each one just as curious as the last, each one just as questioning as the last. “Why have you gathered us here, Anthony?” Daphne sighs, her hand resting on Simon’s knee.

“I’ve met someone,” Anthony announces. He frowns at the shocked gasps from Daphne and Eloise; was he really so incapable of finding himself a wife? He ignores the jibes from them both, turning to face his dear mother.

Violet Bridgerton sits in her favourite chair; the one next to it empty as it has been for the last decade. Edmund Bridgerton died so suddenly, and their love was so strong, Anthony knew that there was no recovery from it. “Do we know her?” She asks; her face showing the happiness she feels for her eldest son.

“No,” Anthony sighs, settling down next to his youngest sister, Hyacinth. She offers him a sweet smile as he sits; Anthony cannot help but return the smile and ruffle her hair. When the moment is over, Anthony focuses his attention back onto his family who he finds is watching him intently. “She’s a governess,” He admits, straightening in his seat.

“A respectable profession,” Eloise states with a smile. Anthony feels a rush of affection for his sister; he had always been wary for her outspokenness, but right now, he could thank her heartily.

“What’s the problem, Anthony?” Eloise continues, crossing her ankles, leaning forward in interest.

“I think she may have feelings for me as well, but she’s hesitant to act on them because of our differences.”

“Differences?” Hyacinth questions curiously; unaware of such class differences at such a young age.

“(Y/N) is a governess. I am a Viscount,” Anthony explains, “It would be the subject of gossip for years to come should anything happen between us.”

“So we come up with another story,” Francesca suggests, shrugging her shoulders as if her suggestion was always the answer.

“Another story?” Daphne wonders, eyes glancing between her husband and her family.

“We create a ruse,” Francesca explains to her elder sister. “A story for (Y/N) and Anthony to follow when out in public.”

“Do you think she would go along with this?” Benedict asks; his tone wary as he thinks of the possible implications this could have for his family.

Anthony remains silent, tapping a finger against his cheek as he thinks of whether (Y/N) would follow such a ruse. “Why don’t we ask her? I can send a summons.”

Violet, who had been watching the whole exchange in silence, nods. “Send her a message asking her to come as quick as she can. Tell her it isn’t an emergency, but that you would like to talk to her.”

Anthony nods; rushing from the drawing room to his study to pen such a message. After that, he calls on one of the footmen, handing them the letter and the strict duty of delivering this to (Y/N) personally. The footman nods; his face serious as he takes the letter from his employer’s hand, all but sprinting out of the door.

Anthony returns to the drawing room; taking his seat next to Hyacinth.

“Did you send the missive?” Violet asks. Anthony nods; doing his best to keep his heart from beating right out of his chest. “I sent it with one of the footmen,” He answers, “It shouldn’t be long now.”

His family all nod, breaking off into separate conversations whilst Anthony remains stoic and silent. His leg bounces repeatedly; the only outward sign of his anxiety. Internally, he nerves were fraught. He couldn’t help but wonder whether this was all too much; he knew from their first meeting that Anthony would do anything for her, but if (Y/N) didn’t return such feelings then it was all for nothing.

Worries and thoughts continue to plague him as Anthony catches sight of Daphne leaning into Simon. It’s a small movement, almost imperceptible, but Anthony cannot miss the devoted smile that crosses Simon’s face when he feels his wife press against him.

Longing breaks within Anthony’s chest, spreading through his body, leaving behind an ache that he doesn’t know how to heal.

“Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” introduces the Butler, breaking Anthony’s longing in half.

He stands all too fast, appearing all too eager. Anthony shoots a glare in his brother’s direction when he hears their sniggering.

(Y/N) rushes into the room; her eyes filled with panic when she finds herself in front of the whole Bridgerton clan. “Anthony?” She whispers; her eyes finally meeting his from across the room.

“(Y/N),” He breathes, “Thank you for coming.”

“You told me not to worry, but you sounded so urgent.”

“We wanted to talk to you,” He explains, gesturing to his whole family. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

(Y/N) sits; her mind running a thousand miles a minute as she finds herself being watched by every Bridgerton/Basset in the room. The room is silent; too silent – no-one dares broach the subject first. They don’t want to anger Anthony or ruin his chances with (Y/N).

“Whatever is the matter?” (Y/N) finally asks, breaking the silence.

“We’ve come to understand that you and Anthony have feelings for each other,” Violet states quite plainly.

(Y/N) fidgets, somewhat uncomfortable with this line of questioning. “I guess you could say that,” She offers, smiling smally at the aforementioned man.

“We also know that you’re worried about the differences between Anthony and yourself,” Violet continues to which Eloise huffs, crossing her arms in anger at the state of the class differences within England.

“It’s not so much worried,” (Y/N) explains, “It’s more resigned to the fact.”

Violet nods, understanding where the young governess is coming from. “Francesca,” Violet starts, nodding to the brunette sitting by one of Anthony’s brothers, “Has come up with an idea that we would like to run by you.”

“Oh?”

“It would mean that you and Anthony would be able to begin a courtship.”

(Y/N) feels herself flush; her face heating with how open the Bridgerton family were about their emotions. Their family unit so healthy and happy that everyone felt at ease to talk about whatever was on their minds.

“What did you have in mind?” (Y/N) asks, turning to face Francesca who responds with a large smile.

“We’re going to create a backstory for you. Not something terribly complicated, but something that you and Anthony can follow whilst out in public.”

“Okay…” (Y/N) whispers hesitantly, “What’s the backstory you’ve created?”

Francesca begins to look sheepish. “I haven’t thought of that part yet… I didn’t think Anthony would go for the first part.”

(Y/N) laughs; a light and airy sound that has Anthony straightening in his seat, smiling automatically. “Why don’t we come up with it together?”

“So you’re willing to go along with it?” Anthony asks; his voice unwaveringly hopeful as he refuses to look at anyone but (Y/N).

Something in his face has her nodding. “For as long as you’ll have me,” She answers earnestly, almost breathless when Anthony smiles widely in return.

“This is what I’ve thought of so far,” Colin announces, breaking the moment between Anthony and (Y/N).

The family turn to Colin to find him sat forward on his seat, an eager look across his face as he begins to lay out his plans. Anthony smiles and nods; happy with every word leaving his brother’s mouth.

(Y/N) cannot help but feel an ounce of doubt; not so much at the plan, but for longevity of it. How long would it be before Anthony realised she was not worth it? How long would it before the class difference between them became too much? She dreaded the day but knew it would be upon her before she realised.

----------

The annual picnic in Hyde Park drew in every affable family in London. After all, it was another excuse for mother’s to parade their daughters to the many eligible gentleman. For the gentlemen, it was a free lunch with whichever gazebo they chose to throw themselves upon.

The Bridgertons had been attending this picnic for many years; their station in society meaning that they were personally invited by the monarch. Violet took pride in her set up, making sure her cook’s famous biscuits were on display and that there was plenty of tea to go around. She also ensured that her family had the perfect view of the Serpentine; not too close for her children to fall in, but not too far for it to be out of sight. It was not a sorry affair.

(Y/N) had joined the family happily; talking briefly with Colin and Eloise before Hyacinth monopolised her attention. (Y/N) didn’t mind; she had taught many young girls the same age as Hyacinth and found them all a delight to educate. Hyacinth would be no different.

It wasn’t long, however, before Anthony joined her side. His hand settled comfortably on the small of her back, liking the way that she stepped closer to him, as if wanting to be in his presence all the time.  

“Did you have fun the other night?” Anthony questions, thinking back to Daphne’s ball when (Y/N) had smiled at him as he lead her across the dancefloor.

(Y/N) smiles. “I did. I had a lot of fun.”

“How are you feeling about our ruse?” Anthony queries, catching sight of Lady Featherington marching across the many blankets in the direction of the Bridgerton patch.

“Confident,” (Y/N) answers, “Why do you ask?”

Anthony smiles; shifting his position slightly so he can hear every word of the conversation about to happen. He ducks his head, his mouth close to her ear as he answers, “Because it’s about to be put to the test.”

“Lady Bridgerton,” Lady Featherington calls; her gaudy green gown shimmering in the sunlight as she teeters her way to the matriarch of the fine family.

“Lady Featherington,” Violet greets, her voice as polite as ever. “How are you?”

Lady Featherington smiles at Violet; her gaze glancing around the colourful blankets and gazebo set out for the Bridgerton family to remain comfortable as the picnic progresses. Lady Featherington smiles when her eyes find the figure she was looking for. (Y/N) stands to the side, wrapped up in a conversation with Anthony that certainly looks to be a private one.

Lady Featherington nods towards (Y/N); the fascinator attached to her threatening to slip into her eyes. “You have a new addition to your family, Lady Bridgerton,” Lady Featherington states; no infliction of a question but one inferred all the same.

“(Y/N) is a distant friend of the family,” Violet answers breezily, “She hails from a wealthy family just outside of Leeds.”

“Leeds?”

Violet nods. “Yes, Leeds. It’s just over 20 miles outside of York, perhaps you’ve been?”

Lady Featherington smiles tightly at Violet. She smooths down the green panels of her dress. “A handful of times, Lady Bridgerton. After all, my side of the family hails from Manchester. The two aren’t so far removed.”

“Of course,” Violet appeases, “How does your family fare? I’d heard your mother was ill.”

Lady Featherington continues to smile graciously at the Dowager Viscount. Her eyes are brimming with warning and curiosity, but her smile is forced. “Mother is doing much better, she travelled to the coast. The latest journals are saying sea air helps with fragile conditions.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

Lady Featherington nods her thanks to Violet before making her excuses. Violet’s shoulders shake with silent laughter as she watches the notorious gossip walk away from her gazebo. Lady Featherington’s shoulders are tight with displeasure as she marches back to her own plot.

Violet returns to the stitching in her lap after a brief glance towards her youngest children. Gregory and Hyacinth occupied with Benedict and Colin as the older of the set teach their younger siblings games from their youth. Violet smiles at her children; content to return to the pattern at hand, the Dutch Tulips would not stitch themselves.

“What was Lady Featherington talking to you about?” Anthony asks. His face the very picture of innocence as he breaks his mother’s concentration and grabs two biscuits – one for him, the other he hands to (Y/N).

“She was fishing for information on our dear (Y/N),” Violet comments, observing her stitching to ensure it remains straight. “She didn’t find out a thing other than what we discussed.”

(Y/N) lets out a relieved breath. “Thank you, Lady Bridgerton.”

Violet waves away her gratitude with a dismissive hand. “You’re making my son happy; I’ll protect that and you with all that I have.”

(Y/N) flounders for a moment at the quick acceptance by Violet. She smiles at the matriarch; whispering her thanks to Violet, ducking her head as she tries to come to terms with rush of emotions coursing through her body.

Anthony returns his attention to the conversation; his mind no longer focused on way to distract Lady Featherington. He flashes a smile in (Y/N)’s direction; his heart racing when she sends her own smile back.

“(Y/N) and I are going to promenade, mother. You’ll be fine without us?”

Violet snorts. “Yes, dear. I have my seven other children to keep me company.”

Anthony rolls his eyes fondly at his mother. He presses a sweet kiss to her cheek before offering (Y/N) his arm.

They amble along the path; all the while aware of the maid sent by Violet shortly after they departed. Violet trusts (Y/N) implicitly, but she knows the reputation of her eldest son. The poor opera singer being prime evidence of his abilities to break hearts as quickly as he mends them.

“You look beautiful, by the way. In case I haven’t told you,” Anthony flirts, a handsome smile spreading across his face.

“You haven’t, but I’ll take the compliment now.”

Anthony laughs, throwing his head back in delight as they both pause their walk. “You are though,” Anthony murmurs, reaching out to brush a finger down (Y/N)’s cheek, “You’re beautiful.”

(Y/N) averts her gaze; her cheeks flushing from the unexpected compliment. Anthony glances on either side of them, catching sight of the maid only a few feet away, doing her best to nonchalantly follow them. Anthony turns his attention back to the woman in front of him, desperate for a moment alone with her. A wicked grin spreads across his face, “Follow me.”

“What?”

“Follow me,” Anthony repeats, stepping off the path and onto the grass. He gestures to a faint path; one less travelled. “Do you trust me?”

(Y/N) answers by taking his outstretched hand, letting herself be led down the lesser known path.

Their pace slows when they are certain they have lost their chaperone. (Y/N) feels a twinge of guilt as she thinks of the poor maid who was only doing what she was asked by her employer, but then she catches sight of the unbridled glee on Anthony’s face and her guilt is quickly replaced by anticipation.

“Where are we going?” She asks; her voice jostling slightly as she tries to watch Anthony and not trip over any loose twigs or stones.

“Nowhere in particular,” Anthony confesses, “I just wanted you to myself for a little bit.”

His pace slows; they’re a good distance away from the picnic party, they wouldn’t be interrupted by anyone.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Anthony wonders as he comes to a stop. His hands settle on her waist and she has do all that she can to focus on the conversation and not the fact that she can feel the heat of his skin through the fabric of her dress.  

“You can tell me anything.”

“I like spending time with you. You make me…” Anthony trails off as he thinks of the word, “Happy. Yes, you make me happy.”

“You make me happy too.”

“If you want me to stop,” Anthony whispers, bending to press a line of kisses from her cheek to the corner of her mouth, “You need to tell me now.”

“Don’t stop,” She whispers, fisting her hands in the lapels of his jacket, tugging him forward.

Anthony kissed her carefully, as if afraid he would ruin her from the very moment their lips touched. What he didn’t realise, however, was that he had ruined her from the instant they met. He might not have realised it, but she knew. She knew that from that one conversation, that one touch to her elbow, she would be ruined for other men.

His mouth is gentle, hesitant. By the way he groans low in his throat, Anthony does not expect (Y/N) to react the way she does. Gasping against his mouth, pressing herself against him as her lips open under his. The kiss becomes hurried; oxygen becoming a distant thought of the past as (Y/N) tastes the lemon biscuits Anthony had stolen from his mother’s table.

Breaking the kiss, the couple each suck in ragged breaths. Shy smiles break out across either of their faces, not having expected such a thing to happen to between them. A short laugh leaves Anthony’s lips as he keeps (Y/N) wrapped up in his embrace. Neither of them feel the need to say a word; happy to let the time pass between them in complete silence.

“We should probably get back,” (Y/N) eventually murmurs against Anthony’s cheek, the slight stubble scratching her skin.

Anthony releases a choked sound. “I don’t want to,” He confesses, “I want to stay here with you.”

(Y/N) pulls back, brushing a gloved hand against Anthony’s cheek. He leans into the touch; finding himself enraptured by the woman in front of him. “I want to stay with you too,” She whispers, “But your family will be looking for us.”

Anthony sighs, breaking the embrace entirely. He holds her hand; tangling their fingers together. If he could, he wouldn’t let go of her at all. He would keep her with him at all times; he likes to be in her presence, doesn’t want to be without it. However, society and duty calls, and he must return. However, he would be damned if he was to let go of her hand before then.

“Alright,” He concedes, beginning the walk back to the picnic.

The walk is quiet, but comfortable. Their hands remained tangled even as they arrive back to the Bridgertons. His brother’s throw Anthony a knowing glance which Anthony ignores. He knows his mother will have a strict word with him later, but he has more pressing matters on his mind – his future and the woman now sitting with his youngest siblings.

He’s found his forever; he just needs to keep it.

-----

“Miss (Y/L/N),” the Butler begins, interrupting the governess as she marks her student’s latest set of handwriting, “A Viscount Bridgerton to see you?”

“Oh!” She gasps, standing from her seat far too quickly. The inkpot on her desk spills, sapphire blue ink spreading across the multitude of papers thrown about her desk. As she watches the puddle grow, she begins to feel a deep sense of dread spread through her being.

“Shall I show him in?” The Butler asks, also watching the ink stain spread.

“Have you already made Lord and Lady Saville aware of his presence?”

“Yes, miss. They’re the ones who told me to fetch him to you.”

“Then yes, show him in please,” (Y/N) answers, staring forlornly at the ruined paper and wasted ink. The Butler makes a sympathetic noise before opening the door further for Anthony to enter.

“Darling,” Anthony greets. He goes to speak further but spies the growing blue stain. “What happened here?”

“I stood up too quickly,” (Y/N) complains. “It’s gone everywhere, and I can’t afford another bottle right now.”

“That’s no problem. I’ll get you a bottle.”

(Y/N) fixes the man with an unimpressed look. “No you won’t. I don’t want you buying things for me.”

“It won’t be bought. I have a stock of ink back at Bridgerton House due to the amount of correspondence I have. You can have a couple of pots; I will not miss it.”

“Oh… well, thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Anthony smiles. “Now that’s sorted, I came here to ask you a question.”

“You have?”

“I have. Would you attend the Shakespearean ball? With me?” His voice has a note of vulnerability in it as he voices his question.

“What?” She asks, “As in arrive with you, on your arm?”

“Yes,” Anthony states slowly, “You would come with me and my family.”

She begins to pace the room; her hands wringing together as she tries to calm the pounding of her heart and mind. “Are you sure this is the path you want to go down?” She asks Anthony; her voice begging for a truthful answer.

“What do you mean?”

“This is getting very serious very fast, Anthony. This plan isn’t going to work forever; the ton will find out that I’m a governess and the ruse will be over. This could ruin your entire family, Anthony.”

“Hey,” Anthony hushes, interrupting her pacing. He reaches for her hand with one hand whilst the other cups her cheek. She automatically leans into the touch, sending a thrill through Anthony’s aching soul. “Nothing’s going to happen,” He reassures with a gentle tone, “Should anything happen, we can do damage control.”

“I don’t want to be the ruin of your family, Anthony,” (Y/N) whispers, her eyes lined with unshed tears. She could never forgive herself if the Bridgertons were socially injured by her lack of money relating to her lack of status. (Y/N) could not help the hand of cards she was dealt at birth, but society dictates her station, and hers was so far below Anthony’s it was any wonder that he noticed her in the first place. It was a dream to be accepted by his family; she didn’t want to be the cause of their ruination.

“You aren’t going to be the ruin of my family,” Anthony assures, brushing under her eyes with his thumbs to wipe away the tears that have fallen. “You’re going to be the making of it. I want you in my life, (Y/N). I want to see where this goes.”

“You do?”

“I do. I haven’t felt like this for a long time, I want to see where this feeling takes me.”

“Okay,” She concedes, doing her best to stop the tears falling, “I’ll go to the ball with you.”

“You will?”

“I will.”

The smile that spreads across Anthony’s face makes it all worth it. He presses a kiss to her forehead, then another to her nose, to her cheek before finally kissing her in earnest. She hums against his mouth; getting lost in the feel of him.

“It’ll be worth it,” Anthony whispers. “All of this is worth it.”

“You’re worth it,” (Y/N) states quietly, pulling him back in for another kiss.

----

Lady Danbury was one of two women in London that could throw a memorable ball. The other being Violet Bridgerton. For her theme this year, Lady Danbury had chosen the works of the Elizabethan bard, William Shakespeare. For what could be more romantic than dressing as characters immortalised in his plays and sonnets?

Anthony would not tell (Y/N) one whisper of his costume; kept it a secret from her despite her barrage of questions. As revenge, she kept quiet about her costume, refusing to tell the man the colour of her dress.

The two walk into the ballroom with (Y/N)’s hand resting on Anthony’s forearm; her nerves rattle as she walks further into the room. She knew she had no reason to be nervous; Anthony and his family would protect her from whatever form of gossip falls her way, but she could not help the turning of her stomach as she walked passed many disappointed mothers who had hoped Anthony would pay their daughters the slightest bit of attention.

The music is loud; the laughter lightening the atmosphere and the dancers in full swing as (Y/N) begins to feel comfortable. Having taught many a child Shakespeare, (Y/N) spent a lot of time trying to decipher the characters in attendance tonight. She had already seen three Violas, four Benedicks, and six Olivias.  

“I have to go talk to someone,” Anthony says apologetically, interrupting her guessing game, “I won’t be long. Will you be okay without me?”

(Y/N) nods. “Go. I’m sure I’ll find someone to talk to.”

Anthony presses a lingering kiss to her cheek, whispering as he does so, “A marvel amongst women.”

“You’re nothing but a flirt,” She laughs, batting the love of her life away. “Go talk business.”

“As you wish,” Anthony laughs, mock-bowing before leaving (Y/N) to wander the ball alone. Moments pass before she finds someone she recognises. “Colin,” She greets happily, “Who have you come as?”

“Romeo Montague,” Colin answers, stretching his arms wide to show off his rather fetching garb.

“How wonderful,” She laughs, watching the Bridgerton strike a pose in his costume.

“Who knows,” Colin teases, “Maybe tonight I’ll find my Juliet.”

(Y/N) laughs once more, batting the man away when he wiggles his eyebrows at her in a suggestive manner. “Off with you,” She snorts, “I’m sure there are plenty of ladies for you to dance with.”

Colin departs with a bow of his head. (Y/N) rolls her eyes at the antics of the younger man; Colin knew full well of the line of ladies waiting for his signature of their dance cards, but something warms in (Y/N)’s chest when she watches Colin walk straight to Penelope Featherington.

“They���d make a fine pair if he would pull his head out,” A voice full of humour sounds from behind her.

(Y/N) startles. She turns to find Anthony watching her; his lips curled in a manner that suggested he was holding back the laughter he so desperately wanted to let out.

“You made me jump,” She hisses, batting his outstretched hand away.

“I’m sorry, my love,” Anthony coos, pulling (Y/N) into his embrace by pulling on one of the many skirts about her waist. (Y/N) flushes at the term of endearment, but also at the many pairs of eyes now watching the young couple.

“You’re forgiven,” She sighs. “Who have you dressed as?” She asks, changing the subject.

“Ferdinand,” Anthony answers, “From The Tempest.”

“How odd,” (Y/N) muses, “I’ve dressed as Miranda from The Tempest.”

“‘Admired Miranda!/ Indeed the top of admiration, worth/ What’s dearest to the world!’”

“Only you could quote Shakespeare from the heart,” (Y/N) states wryly.

Anthony preens, puffing out his chest slightly. “All the Bridgertons can. We would do dramatizations of the plays.”

“Of course,” (Y/N) laughs, picturing Anthony as a young boy, dressed in breeches with a make-do ruff around his neck. The very image brings a fond smile to her face.

“What are you smiling about?” Anthony questions, wanting to be privy to the thoughts running through her mind.

“You,” She flirts, hooking her arm through Anthony’s as they start to take a turn about the room.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Anthony states pompously though his heart races at her words.

Her laughter chimes as Anthony steers (Y/N) around the room, pausing only to grab two glasses of lemonade from the drinks table. She sips at it delicately, not risking a spill of a single drop on her outfit.

“I’m glad you decided to come,” Anthony murmurs into her ear. “Truly. I would have been lost without you.”

“You always know what to say, don’t you?” (Y/N) teases, enjoying the blush that begins to paint Anthony’s cheeks. She briefly touches a gloved hand to his cheek, smiling fondly at the brunette. “I’m glad I came too.”

Anthony clears his throat; clearing his throat of the emotion clogging it up. He takes her drink from her, placing it on a nearby table. As ever the gentleman he was raised to be, Anthony bows towards the women he vows is the love of his life and offers his hand. “Would you care to dance?”

“Always,” She answers with a breathtaking smile, taking his hand to be led onto the dancefloor for the start of the new song. Couples on the floor take up the position of the quadrille as upbeat music sounds through the hall.  

It’s hard not to smile as Anthony takes her hand to begin the first steps of the lead couple. The first dance figure is performed before copied by the other couples in their square.

Anthony keeps a tight hold on her as he begins the next set of dance figures; spinning (Y/N) out before drawing her back in. Laughter falls from her mouth, setting his heart alight with the love he feels for her.

She catches the eye of Lady Featherington through one of many of Anthony’s spins. The Lady smiles knowingly, raising her glass to the young woman spinning in the arms of the Viscount.

(Y/N)’s breath freezes in her chest; she makes a choked sound and her steps falter. Luckily, no-one but Anthony seems to notice, but he recovers his hold on (Y/N) fairly quickly. It’s the end of the song; couples slowing on the floor, the audience beginning to clap their approvals.

“Darling?” Anthony calls quietly, breaking her out of her reverie. His hand remains in her hold; refusing to let him take even a step without her.

“Take me somewhere we can be alone,” She pleads, suddenly overcome by the sheer amount of people milling about the hall.

Anthony doesn’t need to be told twice, leading (Y/N) away from the dancefloor with a guiding hand on the small of her back. Anthony catches Benedict’s eye as he leaves the hall; his brother offers him a single nod to which Anthony relaxes – Benedict would make sure no-one would follow or interrupt, there was something important Anthony had to do.

The night air is cold against her heated skin as she inhales hurried breaths. The stone of the railing is cool under her fingers as she grips the stone tight; needing something to tether her to this place. It feels like a dream; a total dream that she would find herself costumed as a character from a Shakespeare play brushing elbows with some of the most powerful people in the country.

At this time of night, the gardens are dark, but she can still make out their heavenly fragrance perfuming the air, providing the perfect backdrop for this night.

“Are you alright?” Anthony asks, removing his jacket and settling it over her shoulders.

(Y/N) pulls his jacket tighter around her; inhaling the comforting scent of musk and sweet orange washing over her. “I’m fine now, it got to be a bit too much in there.”

“That’s an understatement,” Anthony murmurs, “I saw Lady Featherington.”

(Y/N) cringes internally. Her face is a mask of polite interest as she murmurs, “Oh? You saw that did you?”

“She only acts as if she knows everything, darling,” Anthony reassures, settling his hands on (Y/N)’s waist, desperate to be touching her.

“I know,” She murmurs, but his words do nothing to settle the panic tying her chest into knots.

“We’re fine,” Anthony promises; hands rubbing up and down the sides of her bodice. “It’s going to be fine.”

“I know,” She repeats, sighing heavily, leaning back into his embrace. His chest is strong against her back, but she doesn’t get long to admire his strength. He turns her in his arms, peering down at the expression on her face.

“You’re who I love. I couldn’t give a damn what the rest of London society thinks.”

“I love you as well,” She answers, a small smile on her face, letting his words wash away any and all of her worries. “You do have a way with words.”

“Flatterer,” He teases, dipping his head to kiss her.

(Y/N) gasps at the first press of Anthony’s lips against hers. She had kissed him before; a hurried meeting of mouths before their chaperone caught up to them. This kiss differed from that; languid, unhurried. Anthony took his time to memorise the feel of her lips against his; the small whimpers sounding at the back of her throat.

Each brush of his lips against hers spoke of what he found it hard to put into words. He had never been a wordsmith; could never write poetry or recite the romances of the past, but with every butterfly kiss placed on her lips in time to the shuddering of her heartbeat could Anthony translate the sheer scale of what he feels for her.

She reaches up to cup the back of his neck, fingers carding through the dark brown locks. Anthony’s grip on her waist remains firm as he presses her further into the railing. The gentleness of Anthony’s kiss soon turns to a burning passion as his hands splay across the small of (Y/N)’s back, pressing her to him.

As Anthony’s kisses begin to travel the expanse of her jawline, (Y/N) is suddenly grateful for the railing behind her. If he was to let her go now, not only would she feel the keen absence of his touch, but she would surely sink to the floor. The feel of his mouth, pressed hot against her, has her knees feeling unsteady.

“(Y/N),” Anthony whispers, nuzzling the side of her neck, “(Y/N)…”

“You keep whispering my name,” She murmurs into the night air; her ragged breath leaving behind white plumes.

“Marry me,” Anthony all but pleads, pulling back from (Y/N)’s neck to gaze into her eyes. “Marry me and always be mine.”

It seemed that time had stopped and lost all of its meaning; there was no party, no gardens, no laughter of lifelong friends. No. In this moment there was only Anthony.

“Yes,” She whispers, laughter beginning to fall from her mouth as fresh as a morning rainfall. Once it starts, she cannot find it in herself to stop. Tears soon join the laughter as a smile breaks across Anthony’s handsome face. “Yes,” She repeats, “I will marry you.”

********

Bridgerton taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ @dreaming-about-fanfictions​ @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown​ @janelongxox​ @aspiringsloth20​ @wallwriterstuff​ @magicalxdaydream​ @darkestbeforethedawn16​ @gryffindors-weasley​ @spideysz​ @iammirrorball​

taglists are open! drop me an ask if you would like to be added!

[joesalw]

First of all I just wanted to commend you for becoming a TS hate blog despite the annoying fangirl swarm you're probably going to face. You're truly doing the lord's work.

I saw that you said you were her a fan of hers but then realised who she was after her breakup with Joe. I was curious about how long you'd been a fan and how involved were you in the fandom and what was it that caused this 180? Was it one thing that just shook you out or was it little things added up?

For me, I had always considered myself more of a casual fan of her music but never got into the fandom side of it because I always thought of swifties as pretty fucking annoying. However, I've had mutuals through the years who were more in the fandom so I sort of observed from the outside. As for her as a person, I never went to bat for her but I always felt like I gave her a sense of grace and understanding despite her being 7 years older than me and far more privileged. For example, when people accused her of always playing the victim I always thought it was understandable because when you're young you often only see things from your own pov, but with age and maturity you start seeing the bigger picture.

My issues with her started in 2020, the year after she made a documentary where she shed her white women tears and proclaimed she wanted to be politically active and use her voice for good. But when the opportunity came with covid, BLM and the election she did less than the bare minimum, a couple of tweets and some cookies iirc. After that her shitty allyship continued to annoy me especially after that Ginny and Georgia tweet, but what was really grating on my nerves was the way her fanbase and the media were hailing her an artistic genius for the littlest things. She's always been one of the poster girls for white mediocrity in the entertainment industry but it was taken to whole new level with her directing her "short film". I don't know what makes good music, but I do know little more about movies and directors and all too well was just so meh and bland and basic and the fact that Sadie and Dylan are both brilliant actors yet their performances in that "film" were so lackluster tells me she does not have what it takes to be a director. Yet she was invited to one of those variety talks and was campaigning for a Oscar nomination? And will apparently direct a movie sometime in the future? Has the world lost it's fucking mind?

Anyways come 2023 to her dating a bigot and I realised just how much of a performance her "activism" has been and her going back to the same tricks of playing victim that made me realise it wasn't immaturity and age this is just who she is.

Sorry if this is tmi but I thought since I was asking for you story I'd tell you mine in a sense. I also have some completely unqualified armchair psychology takes on miss t if you're interested in hearing them. They're probably not "hot takes" or something someone somewhere hasn't already said about her but this was already too long for me to dump them on you unasked.

Hope you have a great day! X

I started fangirling her in 2016 when the whole snakegate thing happened. With reputation especially, when she wrote those monologues about her being comfortable being her ownself at the end of her 20s and wanting a normal life and privacy outside media scrutiny. Her talking about how she used her "taylor swift sqaud" to heal her past insecurities not knowing how it could affect someone who still doesn’t have that type of friendgroup, her deciding to keep her relationship private instead of making it a circus for the media. You know, you could see the personality growth in her at that time. To me she really felt like a very matured person.

Even though there were still lots of things (that you talked about) used to make me very uncomfortable, like that ginny and georgia tweet and her posting that black image of blm trend with THIRTEEN HEART EMOJIS (so embarrassing and weird?)

Moreover, I never liked any of her self directed music videos. Like those were so bland and boring and never fit with the music. But people still praising her and giving her vmas and shits was just a confirmation that nobody cares about art these days, they only want the clout from her name. Her music is also very boring. She writes about the same events in thousand different songs to milk the shit out of it. Like girl please move on!

But what made me actually unstan her was the whole shitshow she put up after her breakup with Joe. The person she talked so highly about in her whole discography was now a villain too. She went on a brought up a whole hate trend on Joe by making her friends unfollow him publicly.

SHE IS THE ONE WHO INSTIGATED THE WHOLE JOE ALWYN HATRED TREND.

You know no matter whatever someone does (his only fault was not wanting to marry her lol), nobody deserves to go through this type of media harassment. But Joe did. Joe is the person who saved her when she was having this kind of media treatment but later on SHE instigated the same type of hatred for him. That just proves how terrible she is as a human being. And not to forget she immediately started dating a vile, racist, islamophobe, bigot, piece of shit and said that was the best time of her life. She didn’t even acknowledge her wrong in the relationship on her breakup announcement (she acted unbrothered). She used Ice Spice to cover up her mess. I mean how many more reasons did i need after that?

Now in her travis era, she switched completely 180° saying being public is her real personality. She also brought back her squad pap walks. She is really feeding into the narrative that Joe kept her in basement. So like the MAIN thing that made me fall in love with her in the first place was all along a lie? She never matured? She never wanted to have privacy? She never valued a normal life? Her personality growth really went downhill to a shithole.

But after being so invested in her for 7 years, I can tell you that a breakdown is coming very soon and I will not feel bad for it at all!

[timesholland]

‘tis the damn season  || preface

A/N: I just had this idea while listening to evermore by taylor swift, my very favourite album. So this will be inspired by the songs on the album and the first one is ‘tis the damn season! also I’m sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language. If you like this idea let me know :)

Pairing: tom holland x actress!Reader

Moodboard one

Summary: On the first day of your new project you happen to just discover who you are going to be working with for the next months and it just so happen to be your ex. Or something like that. Even though you knew how much you liked Tom back then, it was never clear to you what actually happened between the both of you. He was never clear and the moment you knew you were going end up hurt, you left.

The holidays linger like bad perfume You can run, but only so far I escaped it too, remember how you watched me leave But if it's okay with you, it's okay with me

You had just finished getting your make up done when you took sometime to breathe and finally think about what was going on. So you would have to see Tom again, not only see but work with him everyday for the next three months. Here's the thing: you didn't deal well with unsolved things. Yes, you made the decision to forget him and you did it. But you wished things had been different, in some parallel universe, you wished he held you tighter, tried harder. Wish he decided to meet you halfway.

No one ever knew how much you were hurting when you stopped talking to him. "It wasn't anything serious anyways." you'd tell your bestfriend when she asked about how you were feeling after the news of him being in a new relationship had leaked.

You met Tom when you were younger, you knew him and you loved him. You met him through mutual friends who are also actors and you connected instantly. You couldn't tell when things started to get so confusing and complicated until you realize the guy that was your best friend was sleeping in your bed and then breaking your heart. Not even him, cause you never said a word about it. You acted like you didn't care.

You loved each other and you knew it. But you loved him like you could call him when you were high and talk about anything but you could never tell him why you were hurting. Like you could fall asleep in his lap when you had movie marathons on lazy Saturdays, but you couldn’t touch him when you kissed or look into his eyes for longer than a second. He'd drive to your house at 3 in the morning if it meant you'd be okay. He couldn't close his eyes without seeing you. You haunted his dreams. You could make him break his own knuckles on his bedroom wall and then pull him into your arms moments later with a smile on his face. 

Whenever you happened to meet at premieres, he’d act like he couldn’t look at her when he held her hand because you were laughing with someone else on the other side of the room. And you both knew it, just pretended you didn't.

And now here you are, ready to spend three whole months next to him. You heard a knock on the door that made you snap out of your thoughts as you saw someone opening the door slowly putting his head to the side. “Hey. Can I come in?” 

You couldn’t help but make a weird face at Tom, standing right at your door. What was he doing? What are you supposed to do? Act like nothing ever happened? 

“Sure. How are you? It’s been so long.” you said walking in his direction. 

“Yeah, I'm okay. Happy to be back at London?” he asked while he took a sit on the small sofa you had in your dressing room. You sit next to him, having a hard time to look him directly at the eyes.

“Always happy to be back. So what's up?” you reffered to him coming to your dressing room. He laughed a little, you could see he looked embarassed.

“Nothing really, just wanted to see you before we start this whole thing. Wanted to make sure we are hm...fine?”

“We are fine, yeah. I don’t think this is right place to talk about it anyways.” you stood up and sit on a chair in front of him. 

“I know Y/N but where is the right place? Or moment? I don’t mean to bring this up now but you are the one who’s been ignoring me for months, stopped answering to my texts and been acting weird, we were friends before everything so I don’t get it-” Tom was cut off by your assistant (and best friend) entering the room. 

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were here...hi Tom. I can come back later.” Emily apologized. “No! It’s okay, he was just leaving.” 

Tom stood up and left the room leaving his very well known perfume in the air. 

“What was that about?” Emily asked, knowing well what was that. 

“Nothing, he came in to ask me if we were okay?” you answered ironically laughing. “Saying I stopped answering his texts like he wasn’t the one who was basically running so he wouldn’t have any commitment.” 

“Doesn’t he have a girlfriend now or something?” she whispered. 

“So I heard. But tell me, how can I help you?” you asked her who immediately hand you over a pile of paper and explained what you were supposed to do. You obviously knew well the role you applied for, you just didn’t know who was going to do your love interest in the cast. Until 10 minutes ago. But Tom however, looked like he was ready to come talk to you, actually, looked like he was waiting for it for so long. 

“Y/N! Are you even listening?” Emily called “Can’t stop thiking about finally being a couple in front of cameras?”

“Oh stop it, I’m glad no one ever knew the rumors about me and him were real.” You answered her laughing. “Sometimes I think the best thing I did was leaving, but I kinda miss him though.” 

“Well, I’m glad you do cause you’ll have a lot of time to spend together now.” 

[blorbocedes]

Once again. I’m so so sorry but I am going INSANE so here’s part 3! Starting from the bridge.

And I can go anywhere I want Anywhere I want, just not home

yeah, this one doesn’t need explaining. just pain. whatever home is to Nico, may it be Monaco, may it be the Mercedes team, or may it be the friendship they once had and how it used to feel like home. All of those has been tainted and after it all went down, he could never come back and look at it the same way.

And you can aim for my heart, go for blood But you would still miss me in your bones

And I still talk to you (when I'm screaming at the sky) And when you can't sleep at night (you hear my stolen lullabies)

just aaaaarrghhh🤧🤧🤧 hehjsnnss 😖😖😖kssssujjnnd😫😫😫 you would stil!l miss me! in your bones! I don’t have enough words to describe this one. for me these lines translate and define their entire relationship.

You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same. […] And you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain / Crossing out the good years

I mean. THE TRAGEDY OF IT ALL. The mutual destruction? The feeling of having hurt a loved one and as consequence hurting yourself in the process?? the blame throwing crossing out the good years??? sounds familiar?????

In conclusion, my tears ricochet is brocedes coded. everyone please stand up and say thank you for the Nico Rosberg and Taylor Swift alliance.

(that was a lot and I’m v sure it was barely comprehensible but I just needed to put it out there. Keep spreading the brocedes word, maybe it will consume others’ brain like it did mine! Mwah)

Part 2 here

if you would like more brocedes aligned music, including an entire taylor swift one this is your holy grail. (fun fact I was actually the person who sent that ask, so this is coming full circle in a way)

Taylor Swift absolutely did write an entire album about Nico Rosberg and his friendship breakup with Lewis Hamilton... her mind!!!

every time you think brocedes can't get worse I promise you they can. actually I can feel the love and brainrot with which you've written this 😭🥺 so thank you for your effort, anon it is not wasted. the whole time reading I was going yes, yes, of course (moving my monocle) this is absolute scholarship

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | Chapter fourteen

Chapter fourteen

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: talks of spencers major anxiety, parental death tw (not Diana or bob and Linda), trauma talks, computer hacking and new members joining the family...

word count: 4k

from the beginning <3

Taylors biggest surprise that weekend was what she had planned for Amoreena that night.

She set up a fort in the theatre room, they had every snack imaginable and any movie of her choice to watch. Karaoke in the corner, popcorn being popped in a theatre-style machine, and 3 different, matching child and adult, princess dresses for them to choose from.

It was all an elaborate plan to keep her preoccupied until bedtime, which Taylor offered to handle so that her parents could have a little wedding night date alone.

They’re all ready for a wonderful night when Spencer’s phone started ringing.

“Hello?” Spencer answers, sneaking away from the girls so he could hear better.

“Spencer, I am so sorry to interrupt you this late, but we have a situation… it’s not something that should be discussed over the phone. Do you have someone to watch Amoreena while you and Y/N come into the bureau? As soon as you can?”

His stomach drops, he feels instantly sick. “Not until you tell me who’s dead, who’s dying or who’s trying to kill us.”

“No one is, Spencer, it’s not a case or criminal related, it’s… personal, someone is here to see you,” she sounds serious and Spencer is still just as worried.

“I’ll tell the girls,” he responds before hanging up.

Y/N is standing right behind him, listening with wide eyes as she waits to soothe his panic. They worked like a well-oiled machine, she could physically feel his anxiety and in return, something about her just being there made him physically feel better.

“What’s wrong?” Taylor asks as she appears behind Y/N, Amoreena now off changing into one of the dresses she picked.

“They won't tell me on the phone but they need me and Y/N back at Quantico as soon as possible,” Spencer explained with a pale face, “we can go in the morning.”

“I’m fine watching Amoreena for the night, there’s a hanger down the road with a few of my dad’s planes, I can have someone take you to Virginia within the next hour? It's only 7 pm, I’m sure you can be back before bedtime?” Taylor offered her services for the 100th time that day, “It’s not a problem, really, and they wouldn’t call if it wasn’t serious, they’re the FBI after all.”

With that, they said goodbye to Amoreena and told her they’d be back before she woke up in the morning. If not, she had Y/N’s cellphone for the night to call them before she goes to sleep and when she wakes up, so she won't bother Taylor that early. (Even though Taylor said she wouldn’t mind early morning Amoreena cuddles.)

He was anxious on the drive to the small airport, the old man named Norman, chartering them that night was incredibly kind, they were granted lading access in Quantico and before he could prepare, they were up in the air. He chatted up a storm with Y/N on the headset radio as Spencer overthought the upcoming chat with JJ and stared out at the world below them.

On queue, he jumped from anxious to scared when they land, before getting in the shuttle from the airstrip to the front entrance, but he’s so incredibly terrified when it comes time to actually start the walk to the bullpen.

“Will you come in with me?” His small voice asks as she is pinning a visitors tag on her shirt.

“Of course,” she smiled, taking his hand as they walked into the elevator together.

He grips her hand tighter as the elevator stops, dipping and returning to the right height and making his stomach drop the same way a rollercoaster would. He hated that feeling more than anything, having it alongside the anxiety wasn’t helpful.

He can see JJ and another girl sitting together at his old desk. She’s smiling at whatever JJ says, she looks exactly like Amoreena just with box-dyed black hair that shines purple under the lighting. She’s in all black, she pushes her glasses up her nose with her sweater hiding her hands, Spencer knows she’s a foster kid from just her posture.

“JJ,” Spencer makes their presence clear and the little girl turns to him with a huge smile, running to him and wrapping her arms around his waist. “Hi?”

She’s sobbing ten and he doesn’t know why or even who she is, he lightly holds her with complete shock on his face. He stares at JJ with wide eyes and a gaping mouth as he communicates the confusion and terror with his eyes.

“This is Josephine Elliot, or Jo as she likes to be called, her parents passed away a few months ago and she recently found out her biological father was actually a sperm donor and not her moms husband,” JJ explains a little before sighing and sitting on the edge of the desk.

“She hacked into the sperm bank and found your name, and google led her to the FBI and they stopped her at the second gate, the first only let her in thinking she was your other daughter, Amoreena.”

“I’m so sorry,” the poor girl wipes her tears with her sweater sleeves, “I don’t know why I hugged you when you don’t even know me, ew sorry.”

Spencer pulls her back into a hug, “it’s okay, you don’t have to worry about wanting a hug ever again. You can have whatever you need from me.”

She cries more, holding on to his shirt as he holds her, shushing her softly and rubbing his hand over her back. It’s weird how safe she seems this early in their acquaintance with one another, but he understands it. She’s so desperate for someone related to her to love her again, to replace what she was missing from her parents, that she’s already accepted him as a father without thinking it through. Without even know what he would be like to her.

When she finally calmed down enough, Spencer led her towards the briefing room so they could have a moment alone to talk. He wanted to know her, and she needed to know him before she made another big decision. He let her know who he was, what he used to do and the rundown on his relationship with Y/N and Amoreena.

“So you met her at the park and got married a week later because you both have dead exes and somehow through fate, you made a kid together?” She summed it up in a way that made it sound ridiculous.

“Mutual trauma is a great bonding tool, I’m sure you probably listen to rock music or anything sad and angry because you know someone feels the exact same way you do? I was like that when I was a teenager. We've both lost someone we loved and then made Amoreena out of pure luck,” he combated her snarky summary with his own profile of her.

“I actually like Taylor Swift, Paramore, Evanescence and Olivia Rodrigo when I need to scream about being sad, thank you very much,” she teased him, finding a very easy rhythm as they got to know one another.

“You’re going to lose your mind when you find out who’s with Amoreena right now,” Spencer smiles, somehow everything just fits together.

“What?” She looks so confused, scrunching her face the same way he did to push her glasses up without her hands.

“It’s a long story, but essentially we were at Taylor Swift’s house when JJ called, she’s watching Amoreena still,” Spencer explained, watching her jaw drop.

“Who the fuck are you, dude?” She whispered, and it took Spencer by surprise. “Sorry, I’m so used to swearing in front of adults lately to get my point across. But seriously, you’re so interesting…”

“Understandable,” Spencer laughs lightly at her strange compliment. “I have a lot of connections, and I’ll do anything to see the people I love, smile, that includes you now.”

“You barely know me and you’re just ready to accept that I’m your kid? Didn’t this just happen to you last week?” She laughs at the insanity of it all, “you’re going to have a million kids at this rate, dude.”

Again, she calls him dude and he knows she’s just trying to distance her emotions as they grow fonder and fonder. A coping mechanism so that she doesn’t get hurt anymore, she’s lost too much and she’s not going to love him just to lose him too.

“My dad ran out on me when I was a kid, I basically raised myself when my mom’s schizophrenia got bad, I know what it’s like to feel alone even when you’re with people who are supposed to love you,” he makes sure she knows who he is inside.

“I’m sorry,” she reaches a hand out for him, holding it softly. “I never really liked my dad growing up, he always felt off… I can’t explain it, but he was never the same guy twice he was either angry, miserable or scarily happy," she explains him and all Spencer can think is how he sounds like an unsub.

"I do miss my mom a lot, I didn’t know what else to do when I found out they couldn’t have babies together and she went to a Sperm bank without telling him. I know the names of your other kids too, besides Amoreena, I’m really surprised you found her mom without hacking the system too but, yeah, Dylan is 6 and Alice is 10, they’re both in DC with the same 2 mom’s, so if you didn’t want me, I was going to see if they would cause I’m technically their stepdaughter in a weird way and if I spent one more day in that foster home I would have ended it all,” it's a Reid rant, she's his for sure.

It takes him a minute to absorb it all, “wait, Amoreena is mine for sure?”

She nods like it’s a stupid question, “could you not tell my just looking at her? The 3 of us have the same face.”

“No, they wouldn’t tell us at the clinic,” Spencer is still in shock but more so that she got into the database so easily, “how did you do it?”

“It was easy, I had all the information about the sample my mom used so I just encrypted an email to the secretary of the sperm bank so as soon as she clicked the link to read more I’d have access to her computer, they didn’t even know I was in the system, they probably still don’t know I was there,” she explains it exactly how Penelope would.

“I don’t want you to think I’d ever not want you,” Spencer holds her hand a little tighter, “I’m not sure what the process will be like trying to get the foster agency to agree to me taking you home with us, but I’ll see what I can do. We have a big house and enough room for you in our hearts if this is where you’d like to be. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, you might hate the farm life and the isolation and all the cousins you now have, but you’re a piece of me and I’m not letting you go.”

She uses her free hand to wipe her tears on her sleeve again, “please, I know it’s not going to be the same but I miss having a family so much.”

He wraps her up in his arms, he knows the feeling all too well. One day his mom was there, the next day she was gone and no one prepared him for that. She never had to do this alone, Spencer wasn’t going to let that happen to her.

“Y/N is wonderful, you’ll love her and Amoreena. We live on a huge farm and there’s a lot to do during the day and people to spend time with, believe me, you’re going to feel so surrounded by the love you won’t know what to do with it all,” he shares from personal experience.

“Okay,” she hugged him tighter, pressing her face into his neck as he talked more, feeling the vibrations of his voice on her forehead to know that he was real. That his words were true and she was going to be taken care of.

“Is there anything about yourself that you’d like me to know? Or any questions you have? I’m sure this is going to be an interesting adjustment,” Spencer asked as he pulled away, looking down into her sweet eyes and seeing the hope she was still hanging on to.

“Is Y/N even okay with all of this? It’s her house isn’t it?”

“I��m sure she’ll be fine with it, she knew I had you and the other 2 out there somewhere, we just never expected to meet you so soon,” he’s as honest as possible, talking to her the same way he would with Henry, she seemed even more mature than him.

“Can she come in here too? I’d like to get to know her as well, see if she’s really as lovely as you say she is,” she smiled, coping with her trauma the same way he and Y/N did, with humour.

Almost like Y/N could feel him thinking about her, she knocked on the door before opening it a crack, “sorry, I have some updates,” she smiled.

Josephine smiled at her, “come in.”

Y/N sat down close to her and placed her hand on her shoulder, “my sister is a foster parent, she called her caseworker and they were able to rush the emergency next of kin paperwork, you can stay with us for as long as you would like to.”

“You’re serious? You barely know me?” She kept repeating that as if she convinced herself earlier in the day that they wouldn’t want to know her.

Y/N wrapped her up in a soft hug and Spencer saw all the tension leave Josephines body as she settled against her. It had been a long time since a mother held her, she didn’t realize how much she needed it until she was in her arms.

“You’re half Spencer, so by default you have a portion of my heart now too. I’m not going to love you as an obligation or because I feel like I have to, I love you because you’re part of him and our family,” she whispers into her hair, “I know what it’s like to be alone, you never have to be... unless we’re smothering you then I get it, but you know what I mean.”

She laughed in Y/N’s arms before pulling back. Y/N held her face in her hands and looked at her gently. She ran her fingers through her dyed hair, “you’re going to fit right in with the 4 of us.”

“Four?” She repeats, wondering who else they lived with.

“I’m pregnant,” Y/N smiles as Josephine lights up.

“I’ve always wanted to be a big sister,” she cried a little, “my mom named me after Jo from Little Women, she said she always planned to give me lots of sisters.”

“If this one is a girl she’ll be Eleonora like—“

“Like the poem, Edgar Allan Poe is one of my favourites,” Jo smiled again.

Somehow, without even being there, Amoreena’s mess of glitter glue was able to patch her older sister's broken heart right then and there too.

“I read really fast, my mom said she was going to go bankrupt buying books for me,” she opened up more and more, the hurt of the memories fading as she remembered them with happiness instead of mourning.

Her mom was gone, but the love of a mother filled her space once more. Y/N took her under her wing, keeping her warm and making sure he grew to be as happy healthy and wonderful as all her other babies.

—

They arrive at Taylor's door once again at 11:30. Amoreena is sound asleep in the spare room, not even able to change out of her princess costume or phone them to say goodnight. Taylor said she had a sugar crash and just asked to go to sleep, reminding Taylor that she had the best day ever before closing her tired little eyes.

Jo was very anxious to meet Taylor too, telling her a similar story to Y/N’s from just a few hours prior. Taylor made sure she was comfortable for the night in another spare room, making her a hot chocolate and some snacks from earlier that day at lunch. She was the best host, a wonderful friend and an even better honorary godparent to these girls of Spencer’s.

“Can I have a hug?” She sheepishly asks before she has to turn down the hall to her bedroom for the night.

Spencer answers by wrapping his arms around her and holding her close to his chest once more, he wasn’t sure how his heart could hold so much love for these girls, and still have room left to make more one day. It was a dream come true to have a family this big, no one was going to believe that he gained 3 kids and a wife in under a month.

He kissed her on the forehead gently, seeing her smile at the contact let him know it was fine. “Goodnight dad,” she whispers, pressing her lips together awkwardly the same way he did before turning down the hall and disappearing into her room.

She had only a backpack of things currently, not expecting everything to go as smoothly as it did. She had enough clothes to sleep in, and Taylor happily provided some old tour perch to her just in case she needed something new to wear. Something to help her ease to sleep that didn’t feel like she was going back to her old life in the morning.

Amoreena was going to have a field day tomorrow when she met her big sister, the beautiful girl who was busy covering her scars with bandaids provided by Spencer, but it would take a lot of time, effort and care to make her feel truly healed again. It was going to be interesting seeing Amoreena adjust to sharing him so early, especially since he knew Jo would need so much more attention to ease her anxiety moving forward.

Spencer sat on the guest bed beside Y/N, noticing all the rose petals and candles on the dresser and night tables, “oh she really had a lot planned for us.”

“She’s the fairy godmother of our dreams,” Y/N agreed with a laugh. “I don’t mind staying up late tonight if you don’t mind leaving on Monday instead?”

“I was going on suggest the same thing,” he smiled at her, leaning in to press their lips together gently for the first time since the wedding that afternoon.

“let's get into our comfy’s and go for a walk on the beach, Taylor left me the keys to lock up when we come back,” she whispered the words against his lips before smiling.

“Can I call Derek before we go? I really need to talk to him,” he’s honest with her as he pulls away, feeling really anxious and shook up at the events of the day. He needed his best friend.

“Yeah, I’ll go check out the rest of the guest house, come find me when you’re done?” She says softly, getting off the bed with a smile and stepping out of the room with a small wave.

He takes his phone out and dials the number, waiting with the phone pressed against his ear as it rings. Again and again, every new hum in his ear making his heart beat faster, “hello?” He’s finally rescued.

“Have you talked to anyone on the team lately?”

“Who died?” It was everyone’s go-to question when they got a phone call like this one.

“No one, quite the opposite actually—“

“She’s pregnant!” Derek shouts, cutting him off and Spencer can hear Savannah asking who from the background.

“Well, yeah, but that’s not why I'm calling,” Spencer replies only to be met with Derek's laughter.

“Penny and I had a bet on how long it would take.”

“She cheated because she knew we were trying,” Spencer takes the fun from him, Penelope always won. “I have another kid.”

“I know man, birth is so cool— well I’m telling him anyway,” Derek is clearly talking to Savannah and him at the same time, “we’re pregnant again too.”

“No, Derek, I’m pregnant and sick as hell while you’re perfectly fine,” she snaps back at him as she takes the phone. “You better be so kind to her Doctor Spencer Reid; rub her feet, make her breakfast, thank every god on earth and the ground she walks on for being willing to make another version of you, do you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am,” Spencer hold back a laugh, wondering when Y/N would have a hormonal switch like that, “but I didn’t mean the one in her stomach, another fully formed human of my creation walked into the BAU looking for me today.”

There’s a rustling through the phone as Derek takes it back from her, “what the fuck did you just say?”

“Her name is Jo, she’s exactly a month younger than Henry and her parents died 7 months ago,” he continues without even repeating the last part, “Derek I have 3 kids now and I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Where are you right now?”

“In Taylor Swift's guest house.”

“Spencer, be serious with me, are you doing drugs again?"

“Ask Penelope, she contacted Portia, Rossi’s stepdaughter, who contacted Taylor so I could help Y/N and Amoreena meet her, then JJ called and made us fly all the way to Quantico and now I have 2 children living with me and one on the way. Not to mention, child 1 is extremely jealous about sharing me with people and hasn’t even gotten accustomed to being a big sister, and child 2 is so traumatized she hacked the fucking sperm bank and explained it to me like it was as easy as making a sandwich. I am in over my head here, Derek.”

“Okay, that sounded more like Spencer Reid,” Derek’s calm and happy voice calms him slightly and prompts him to take a deep breath. “If she’s able to hack she’s most likely like Penelope, we can introduce them. She’ll need someone who understands the loss of a parent. Amoreena, on the other hand, you need to spend a day with just her. Take her to the movies, or to see a play or something. Let her know she’s always going to be your little girl no matter how many siblings she gets.”

“Thank you, I needed someone who wasn’t my overly optimistic wife to tell me if I could do it,” he’s overly honest, Derek is his person and will always be his person.

“I get it, thanks for calling me, I’m really glad you’re okay,” he can hear Derek's smile and all he wants is a hug from him. “How was the wedding?”

“Good, we all cried a lot,” he laughs then, “we were supposed to have a big dinner on the beach before we got called into Quantico, so I’m going to go spend time with her now, I love you, Derek,” he rushes the words out so he doesn’t get overly emotional.

“I love you too, Spencer, have a good night,” Derek hands up before they both get too emotional. They always had a knack for making the other cry in times like this.

He lets out a deep sigh before tossing his phone on the bedside table. 3 of his 5 kids were here with him and Y/N now, safe and sound. If anyone else needed him, they could wait.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

@k-k0129

[madwoman14]

a) AMY MARCH = YOU

b) other things i associate you with : taylor, jess, teen wolf, pjo, evelyn hugo, johermione, baahubali (probably definitely gave myself away with last one)

c) oh and why does scrabble suck so much!!!!?

gehdhsjsjs my morning brain isn't working, i promise i'll remember much more as some coffee gets into me!

wow who EVER could this be?? i’m sooo confused… please i love amy march so so much, i love that it’s now my brand. she’s me and i’m her. i love how we’re on first name basis with tay tay. like we’ve never met her but we’re close enough to call her blondie and taylor and i love that you associate me with her because well it’s taylor. jess, yay!! haha teen wolf, i apologize for the amount of tw posts that will happen when the movie comes out, sorry (she said already planning her blog theme for when it comes out) pjo was my ENTIRE childhood, apologizing for when that comes out too mwahahahaha. oooh i got my sister to read evelyn hugo which is a big thing considering she doesn’t like to read ugh ik. but she finished the book in three hours and yeah just sat there thinking. i think vee that you and i are model siblings, exposing our naive siblings to gifts like taylor swift and evelyn hugo, we need a trophy asap. @johermione girl it’s the BIGGEST honor to be associated with you! baahubali?? that’s so totally random? but yeah comfort movie, also my friends used to call me raja maathai (the royal mother in the movie) because i was the mom friend and my eyes would get really big when i was mad just like her. ugh don’t get me started on scrabble ew worst board game ever vee! still wondering who this could be from… must be a very fergulous mutual, love you💜💜

[omi9iri]

(this could be read as a sequel to my other kuroo fic drivers license, or as a stand alone! this title in reference to taylor swift’s song but not too closely related to the song itself!)

Everything is bleak when Kuroo drove back to the city he grew up in after college graduation. Maybe it’s the recent breakup, but did he ever really feel satisfied in the relationship either? His biggest mistake was thinking he would, because he ended up losing you.

He thinks he should have listened when people told him not to trade in a good thing for a good time. Maybe you would still be here beside him, with your soft kisses and angelic smiles.

Now he’s standing in the middle of a party your mutual friend invited you both to, letting a girl throw him flirts, all while looking at you. There’s some guy he doesn’t know that has his arm thrown around you. You look so beautiful he thinks he should punch his face in.

He misses the feeling of your lips on his— what it felt like when you kissed his neck or when he kissed yours. The pleasuring sighs. His name leaving your lips, yours leaving his. He missed the skin to skin contact. Even if it was the most simplest thing like when he ran his fingers down your thigh, or your hips. He missed feeling your smile through a kiss. He missed your talks. He missed when he could just come up and hug you from behind at a party (which he was especially yearning for at the moment.)

Now there was this space full of tension that he was supposed to respect?

You weren’t the same person you were back then. You were smarter. Smart enough to know that first love was meant to break you. It’s why you’re so polite when you met again, with your it’s good to see you again and how have you been. He hates it; the fact that you made him sound like a colleague.

He catches you by yourself for the first time that night. “I’m fine,” you tell him when he asks. There’s a moment of silence as you both let the moonlight settle on your skin.

“I’m sorry.”

You freeze. How long have you been waiting to hear those words? How many times have you tried running away from them because you knew everything would still hurt even after you’ve heard them?

Still, you manage to throw a teasing smile, attempting to ease the tension. “That apology’s five years overdue, don’t you think?”

Kuroo frowns. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey...” Your hand touches his comfortingly. “It’s all in the past now.”

He doesn’t make any movement to rid the contact. “Do you think we could...”

Start over again? Did he even have the right? Who the hell did he think he was to say this to you, especially if you had a boyfriend? Kuroo’s thoughts were raging. Did he even deserve you?

“No.” You smile, slipping your hand away. “Not now, anyway.” You sigh, tucking your hand under your chin to gaze up at the moon. So, this is what Juliet looked like to Romeo, he thinks. But, you weren’t just the sun to him, you could be the moon too, you could be the whole fucking universe.

“When, then? I’ll be there.”

You’ve heard that promise before, so you’re not too adamant about it now. You hum nonchalantly. “Maybe when I renew my drivers license.”

That’s not too long. Licenses expire every five years. But, Kuroo is willing to wait longer if you need it. He’s willing to let you take all the time in the world, so that the moment you’re ready, he’ll spend the rest of his life making it up to you.

Because with you, the road is never bleak. He’d ride forever with you. And this time, forever isn’t a promise. No, he’s tired of those. This time it’s different. This time it’s a goal — a goal he’ll keep on chasing. He turns to you, looking as determined as ever.

“Okay.”

[loveelle]

New Year, New Requests!

However, requests are closed until January 8 :(

I think I’m going to make a choice that might not be popular but with the new year here, I think I’m gonna delete the requests I have and sort of start over. I mean sort of because I’d be willing to do requests that had been requested and continue some of the wips I started but only if the requester comes back and lets me know that they’re still around and wanting the fic. I’m doing this because, you know, new year new requests and I haven’t posted a fic in a long time thanks to my blog being hidden for 3 months. I know I have a lot of requests that I’m scraping and I’m sorry about that but it’s very overwhelming and I hope you understand <3

That being said, I’m putting the requests below the cut for those who requested them to remember which ones are theirs and to let me know! I’m headed back to school hopefully tomorrow for a quarter that starts on the 4th so I might be a little busy to start excepting requests right away but I will soon!

Thanks for sticking around with me guys and I hope this year brings you more content from me :)

*If you do not see your already requested fic on this list and would like me to write it still pls send me an ask and I’ll add it to my list!

Luke Patterson:

Can we get a cutesy/maybe angsty Luke x reader fic based off the scene/look Luke gives Julie when she asks him to “tell her mom she loves her” when they cross over. But it’s the reader planning to tell Luke how she feels & he gets that giddy smile (the band has been hyping her up/but second guesses herself) then they have the performance & reader returns with Julie expecting the boys to be gone but they aren’t & tries to convince them to go to Caleb but Luke says no & she goes to kiss him??

Hey I love your writing!!!!!!! I have a request for a Luke x reader. So basically this is an alive Luke fic where he is dating the reader. The reader is a little insecure of Julie because she keeps overheating how amazing those two are together and how they should start dating or how he’s probably cheating on her with Julie. So one day she goes to surprise him with lunch and she sees them kissing. Luke sees her but she runs away and he runs after her. Do it very angsty with a happy ending where it was Julie who initiated the kiss because she likes Luke but he doesn’t like her and chooses the reader. Sorry it it’s so complicated.

Can i request a Luke x reader based on the song "She Will Be Loved" by Maroon 5💚

Luke Patterson x reader - Friends by Ed Shareen

Luke Patterson x reader please? Maybe with song Style by Taylor Swift? Or just any Taylor Swift song in general? Better than Revenge? All Too Well? Cordelia Street?

Can i request a luke x reader for all too well by taylor swift?

Luke x reader? Nobody Compares? By 1D?

Oooo Luke x reader - either Fallin’ All in You/Mutual/Queen or Like to Be You kinda vibe by Shawn Mendes??? I LOVE ALL YOUR WORK! 💞

Omg what about a Luke Patterson x Mercer!reader with the song Accidentally in Love by Counting Crows from Shrek sksks

could I request luke patterson x reader - remember the mornings by clinton kane 💚

Could I request a luke x reader with girls like us by zoe wees! love your fics

Luke x Reader Upside Down by Austin & Ally?

hi!! I saw you were doing song requests ages ago, but I just thought of one now, pretty new song but it hits you right in the feels 🥺🥺 it’s chicken tendies by Clinton Kane (the name is very misleading 😂)

Can you do "Sex" by The 1975 with Luke you dont have to put smut (maybe implied) just Luke pining after the reader with a happy ending💕

Omg! Hi! So idk if you are still taking song fics but I was folding my laundry at 2 am (you know... gotta love that college life) and The Vamps song Can We Dance came on and I was like Ahhhhh! The perfect Luke x reader song... especially if like set at a party or something... but I’d just thought I would suggest it! Everything you write is so incredibly good PSA!! 💞

Reggie Peters:

hiii! i was wondering if your accepting prompts could write reggie x reader (who is alex’s younger sibling) and they’re kinda sneaking around. Thank you 💛

hiiiii! can i request some mercer sibling x reggie pleasee! really interested to see your take on alex as a big brother!! Xx

Jatp:

ah hi !! heard you needed songs for requests or something? sorry if you don't but idk any other jatp pages if that makes sense. young love by btr could work really well for any ghost member x ghost / living reader?? anyway take with that what you will !! have a good day and much love

Could you do something with the song Amnesia by 5sos? Maybe the reader literally has to move. A happy ending twist? (I don’t remember the character requested :( let me know pls)

Peter Parker:

I was thinking maybe Peter Parker x Cheerleader!Reader? Where they both secretly pine after eachother but due to Peter's shyness reader thinks he's intimated by her popularity and uncomfortable around her and she avoids him because of it. But Peter's shy and awkward because he thinks no one like her would like someone like him because they're so different from one another. And then they get paired together for a project or something and their feelings grow stronger and they start getting even more awkward around eachother and they get in an argument where they both think they've done something wrong and in the heat of the moment they both confess their feelings. Idk I feel like its too detailed of a request so I'm not gonna be upset if you decline it. If you do want to write it feel free to take any artistic liberties you want! Totally up to you.