#yes the long forever awaited final chapter is here | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mourntheantagonist · 1 year ago

Text

Trigonometry

warning: explicit. check ao3 for detailed tag list

read on ao3

8:05 p.m.

That was the time flashing red in her face from the clock sitting on the side table next to the television. She sat with her back towards Steve, feet propped up on the sofa, resting her head against his side, her stare darting back and forth between the clock and the door.

8:05 p.m.

They told Billy to be at Steve’s house at eight.

Sure, it had only been five minutes—three hundred seconds exactly. It was a short enough amount of time to be explained away by a long stoplight or an inconveniently placed elderly driver.

Steve was rubbing his hand up and down her arm, and she knew he could feel how tense she was. Though, it wasn’t hard to be able to tell that considering Steve wouldn’t stop acknowledging it.

“Relax,” he said, “I’m sure he’s on his way.”

Nancy just kept looking at the clock. 8:06 now.

“He should be here already.” she grumbled.

Steve laughed, and it annoyed her just a bit how he was so unbothered by the situation. But, she also appreciated it, a little. At least one of them had to be the voice of reason. She had no idea what she would do if Steve was bouncing off the walls like he typically did when he was nervous or excited by something. She wondered if the fact that he wasn’t should concern her, but she was far too busy staring at the clock to hold any other concern.

“Not everyone can be as punctual as you, Nance.”

Nancy just curled further into his side, bringing her hand up to rest on his chest, feeling his heart beating hard. He was nervous too. He just wasn’t showing it. “Well,” she said, tilting her head back so she could see Steve’s face, “if he doesn’t show, we can still have fun just the two of us.”

Her voice sounded sincere, which meant Steve wouldn’t have noticed the way her own words filled her with dread. She loved Steve. That part hadn’t changed. But, there was something about the idea of just moving on with their relationship after all that happened that made her feel a little sick. Maybe it was just Billy’s words still ringing in her ear, still clinging to her skin, unable to be shaken or washed off. Maybe it wasn’t that, though. Maybe it was just her and her own infatuation with Billy. Maybe it was her own desire for something more that made the thought of going without the experience something that made her feel just slightly ill.

She needed Billy to show up. It was far more than a want. That was why she kept staring between the clock and the door. She needed him to show up because she didn’t know what she would do otherwise.

The sound of the Camaro’s engine saved her from entering that spiral.

It was almost embarrassing the speed at which she shot up from her seat, severing the physical connection between her and Steve as she got up from the couch and rushed over to the front window.

The headlights poured in through the glass, the car facing head on and the rays hitting her directly in the eyes and forcing her to look away. She knew she looked just like a dog waiting for the mailman to show up—judging by Steve’s laughs anyway—and she didn’t care. He was late, she was impatient, and Steve just seemed to be going with the motions.

The way Billy got out of the car sent something like electricity through her. It was a shocking sensation that ran through her veins and gave her heart something of a kickstart, beating rapidly at the sight of Billy’s mere presence in Steve’s driveway.

8:08 p.m.

He was there. It was happening.

Nancy felt stuck in place in her spot in front of the window. She felt like her feet had been nailed into the floor, and the palm of her hand had been glued to the curtain that she had firmly gripped. Steve was the one who opened the door, before Billy had even so much as set foot on the porch, still standing closer to his car than the entryway.

She watched from the window as Billy dragged the tip of his tongue against his top row of teeth.

“Waiting up for me I see.” he said, his lips smacking together, and Nancy felt her face flush, and an overwhelming urge to hide herself behind the curtains. “Sorry I’m late. I had some trouble leaving the house.”

Steve didn’t respond to that in a way that Nancy could tell. She couldn’t see him from her angle behind the window. He stood directly in her blindspot. But, he must have done something nonverbal to warrant the jump in Billy’s step as he closed the distance between his car and the front door.

Nancy quickly backed herself away from the window and rushed back over to the couch, trying to act as natural as possible, hoping that Billy was just too enthralled with her boyfriend to notice her standing in the window just two feet to the left of him. She sat down, made herself look somewhat comfortable by bringing her feet up on the cushions and leaning her back into the pillows, looking anywhere but the front door where the party of two was about to become a party of three.

Billy shrugged himself of his jacket the second he walked through the door and tossed it onto the back of a chair, and somehow he was appearing to be more comfortable than Nancy looked on the couch, and she was trying really, really hard.

However comfortable Billy was in that moment would quickly start to fade as the seconds ticked by, and the three of them remained in a dimly lit living room in complete silence. Nancy could tell he was growing tense by the subtle fall of his grin, and the seemingly subconscious attempt to pull against a sleeve that was no longer there. She couldn’t blame him. Behind her own closed lips she was clenching her teeth. Steve was sporting his typical stress-induced shaky and neurotic demeanor.

“Should we, umm…” Steve’s voice cracked, and Nancy had to swallow a laugh because the last time she heard that voice out of Steve, she was fifteen and Steve was tripping over himself trying to ask her to catch a movie with him at The Hawk.

Steve cleared his throat and finished his sentence. “Should we head upstairs to my room?” he asked, and the blush on his cheeks was comparable to a tomato, but at the very least his voice was without any high pitched variations that time.

Billy stood awkwardly in between the couch and Steve, and Nancy could actually feel the vibrations coming from Billy’s erratically tapping foot. “Aren’t you gonna buy me dinner first?” he asked, and the tone of his voice and the look on his face told an entirely different story than the one his toes were telling. Neither of them were sure what that story was exactly, but the words were enough to put both herself and Steve into a state of alarm. Feeding Billy a nice meal as foreplay was not a part of their little plan.

“Uhh,” Steve’s eyes were wide, and if you couldn’t tell he was nervous before, he was wearing that fact like a neon sign right about now. “We uh, we don’t—”

“Holy fuck. I was kidding.”

Billy was looking at the two of them like they were being ridiculous, but also, appearing like he was truly on a level playing field—nervous out of his mind, and having absolutely no idea where any of this was supposed to be going. Nancy could only wish there were instructions. She wished it had been like one of her science labs. Step, by step, by step with precise measurements and detailed actions in a specific order. It made things easy, and it kept her from messing up, and potentially causing any lethal explosions in chemistry class.

Nancy pushed herself up off the couch, finally meeting the two boys somewhere close to eye level, rather than two feet below being smothered by the couch cushions. She brushed out the wrinkles in her clothes, which was pointless but a force of habit, and she tried to let her body find ease. She just reminded herself that the two standing before her were Steve and Billy, and despite what reputation would have her believe, she had nothing to be afraid of.

“Upstairs then?” Nancy finally spoke, realizing just as she said it that she hadn’t said a word since Billy had arrived. It was weird. He made her into a person she couldn’t recognize. She was shy, in a way, and nobody had ever made her feel that small. She wasn’t totally sure if that was because Billy was bigger than her, or because the situation they were in was just massive.

Billy nodded, and it was then that Nancy knew that it was the situation that was making her feel so small, because Billy looked to be even smaller.

Steve led the way, and Nancy made note of the way his head was hung towards the floor, staring straight down at his feet and intently watching as he took each step. It was as if his main focus was avoiding the possibility of tripping and making a fool of himself.

Billy followed behind Steve. It was Nancy who was trailing behind, and she was partly hoping that her distance would allow enough time for the tension to die down and the awkwardness to fade just enough for it all to finally start.

She had thought it would be easier. The way it had been described to her, albeit, in the vague details of the original encounter that she managed to get out of Steve and Billy, it was easy. Steve had gone in for the kill, barely any hesitation, and no lead up. There wasn’t any chit chat, or breaking of the ice. That’s sort of what she was hoping for—a desperate display of horniness that happened so quick that she wouldn’t have the time to think twice and run away.

When they got upstairs and walked into the room, it was like they��d all just been pushed out onto a stage with the curtains already drawn without a script in hand. Hell, they didn’t even know what play they were performing.

Nancy just took a deep breath and walked herself over to Steve’s desk chair beside the bed, sitting down and trying her best to get comfortable, or at the very least seem comfortable.

The two boys were still standing by the doorway, completely silent and stiff as boards. Steve’s chest visibly rose as he turned around to shut the door, turning back around once secured and leaning all of his weight into it.

It was weird, Nancy thought. They never closed the door when it had been just the two of them. Steve’s parents were never home when they did it, and they rarely ever ran the risk of any surprise visits. The house was always completely empty aside from themselves.

All of those things remained true, and yet, Nancy was relieved to have it shut. It felt safer, in a way. She already felt so exposed, so any extra bit of cover she could get was something she would cling onto.

Steve must’ve felt the same.

A few seconds they stood there unmoving, each of them waiting on the other to initiate. Nancy just waited, watching like a movie scene unfolding. It wasn’t her place to do anything anymore. The ball was in their court.

Steve eventually made that first move, which was shocking, to say the least. Billy never seemed to be the type to follow another person’s lead.

Steve reached out a hand, like an olive branch, and Billy just stared at it confused, but took it anyway, as if curiosity had overpowered him. Steve led him over to the foot of the bed, and Nancy felt her breath get caught in her throat when the backs of Billy’s knees hit the mattress. Somehow the four feet in travel from the door to the bed felt so fast, and their mere proximity to the bed felt like they were sitting right on the precipice.

That was what she wanted right? Quick, and easy?

Billy seemed to have other ideas, or rather, his mind did. Because consciously or not, Billy couldn’t look away from her.

“What is—” he spoke weakly, and it was a tone she never thought she’d hear coming out of a vessel that stood as tall and proud as Billy Hargrove did. It was shy and small and powerless. “What is this? W-What are we doing? What is she—”

Perhaps they should have talked about it in more detail with him. But, honestly, they didn’t think they’d have to. Billy had seemed perfectly comfortable when first propositioned, and if his reputation was anything to go by, they figured Billy would be the one taking the lead, and guiding them.

It was quickly revealing itself that they had grossly misjudged him.

It was the first time Nancy felt the need to intervene, or at least provide a helping hand in the right direction, because Billy was lost, and Steve couldn’t pinpoint his location.

“Just relax,” she said, putting more effort than ever into how relaxed she herself looked, because how was she going to say that without walking the walk. “I’m just going to be here. You two get to do your own thing.”

Billy’s facial expression could only be described As dumbfounded. He just kept looking back and forth between Steve and herself, seemingly waiting for the answer to a question he couldn’t ask.

Luckily, Nancy thought she might have the answer.

“It’s okay, Billy.”

Billy managed to take his eyes off of Nancy for long enough to look back at Steve, who was quickly learning from Nancy. He gave Billy a soft smile and nodded his head.

“It’s okay,” he said.

Miraculously, that seemed to relax Billy. Not by much, but she made a note of how his fists stopped clenching.

Somehow, as the time passed, the two of them had created a good amount of distance.

Steve was the one to initiate closing that said distance, slowly, barely conceivable movements bringing him from point A to point B.

Their stance was awkward from her point of view. Steve stood in front of Billy, who had his back to the bed. Their bodies were clearly still uncomfortable and Nancy didn’t fail to notice the way Billy’s eyes continued to dart in her direction, despite everything.

Steve didn’t fail to notice either.

With a visibly gentle hand, Steve brought his fingers up to Billy’s chin, pulling his gaze away from her, and centering it back on himself. The shorter distance they once had began to lessen even more as Steve made use of his other hand, placing it just above Billy’s hip and snaking it to the small of his back. Over a short period of time, their bodies went from the initial distant with inorganic postures, to pressed up against each other, chest to chest, but at least in the case for Billy, still unrelaxed, eyes still straining to look over at Nancy.

Steve—to Nancy’s surprise—was the more relaxed one between the two, and he was also the one doing a much better job at pretending she wasn’t even there. Nancy’s head was tilted as she watched, looking intently into the eyes of her boyfriend as he stared at Billy. His deep brown eyes were locked in on the blonde. His mouth was hung open just barely, his jaw relaxed and his lips soft with a hint of drool.

She felt her stomach start to tingle at the sight of the scene, and as each second passed and the two grew closer and closer, the urge to look away grew stronger. It felt like she wasn’t meant to be seeing it. Hell. She wasn’t meant to be seeing it. None of this was normal. Normally, when two people had sex, there wasn’t a third person just sitting on the sidelines, watching the whole thing like a movie. Well, at least not usually to their knowledge anyway.

There must be fun in it, she could imagine. The thrill of putting on a show, being wild and carefree and completely unbothered by the fact that someone else was watching. But, Nancy found there to be more of a thrill in being the third party. It was like when she was in middle school and she’d stumbled upon one of her mom’s Cosmos, knowing the second that she found it that she was supposed to look away, but finding her eyes simply glued to the page. She was being naughty, and there was just something so exciting about that. If reading a Cosmopolitan was considered naughty, well, what she was doing with Steve and Billy should be illegal.

Even more thrilling.

Just like when she was twelve years old sitting in her closet and flipping through the pages of a magazine, she couldn’t pull her eyes away. It was as if time itself had stopped, and they had frozen in place with just how slow they were going, and Nancy could feel the anticipation growing in her stomach just waiting for that electrical circuit to connect.

It was so gentle, and soft, and she could almost feel it too. She could see the way Billy’s breath had hitched when Steve’s lips had landed. His wide eyes had grown even wider and his body had stiffened like a board and she had to wonder what she’d missed, because Nancy Wheeler was good at reading people, and she’d never expect that sort of reaction out of Billy.

But then, the dust settled, and Billy’s seemingly terrified look had sunk into the warmth of Steve. His eyes fell shut as if it were by force of gravity. His body became loose, his hands moved away from his sides, and it was clear to Nancy that Billy was no exhibitionist, but he could quickly fall into the illusion that they were alone. Nancy understood that. She’d experienced that before. Steve really had a way of making one feel like they were the only two people left in the world.

Billy had clearly fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker.

Billy was the one to deepen the kiss, those trailing hands moving up along Steve’s sides until they were cupping his cheeks. It was all consuming. Every last exhale of air and little noise that Steve produced Billy swallowed with his kiss. His grip on Steve was visibly tense—the white of his knuckles and the deep canyons in Steve’s cheeks made by the pressure under Billy’s fingers telling her so. Steve’s head was moving as if he was swimming, deep in the sea, searching for something. It seemed as though Steve had control of the movements, while Billy maintained control of the kiss.

It seemed that way, until suddenly their vertical stance had drifted to something more horizontal, with Billy falling flat on his back in one swift movement, something graceful. Billy still had his hands firmly latched onto Steve’s face, and suddenly Steve was the one who was wide-eyed. It seemed that Billy had taken over control.

The kissing quickly became less soft, and more frantic. A sloppy exchange of tongues with the corners of each other’s lips pulling tight against their will. It was desperate. Billy had his hand firmly latched into the hair on Steve’s head, as if he was afraid he’d try and run away. Nancy had felt that before with Steve. That desperate urge to cling onto him as tightly as possible like he was her lifeline.

She could see Billy smiling, less with his lips and more with his eyes. He looked blissfully content with relaxed eyes as the weight of Steve’s kiss smothered him and left him utterly breathless.

It was all going great. Perfectly smooth. Nancy sat watching, letting the butterflies in her stomach reproduce and fly around and lift herself up to new heights. Somehow in the midst of everything, she failed to realize that Billy hadn’t been the only person in the room that was worried someone else might be watching, because she sat there, fighting every urge she had to touch herself.

And boy did she have the urge.

As she watched, Billy looked to be falling more and more into the illusion that he and Steve were the only two people in the room. Steve hadn’t even looked at her once. All of his attention had been locked on Billy from the start. That was supposed to make her jealous. Wasn’t it? The fact that Steve couldn’t even spare her a second glance? The fact that he couldn’t take his eyes off of him?

It did. Actually. It did make her jealous.

The difference was, she liked the way it felt.

And the urge turned into something she could no longer over power.

She decided to be discreet with it, bringing her feet up onto the chair with her and sitting on her heel, rocking back and forth, side to side. It wasn’t anything intense, but it would be enough stimulation to hold her over until she calmed herself down a bit more.

She didn’t have Steve’s lips on hers. She didn’t have his essence all over her to be consumed by. It was going to take her a little bit more work to get comfortable.

Though, it seemed she’d overestimated Billy’s comfortability, because just seconds ago, he seemed so blissfully unaware of Nancy’s presence. He seemed so lost in everything Steve.

But Steve’s hands eventually began to travel. No longer mapping the geography of Billy’s chest through the opening of his practically unbuttoned shirt, his hand slid down, over the fabric. Down. Down. Further, and further…eventually breaking the denim barrier below his belt.

Billy instantly tensed as Steve made contact. Eyes shooting open into a look of shock. His breath seemed to be lost as he allowed his neck to turn, and his gaze to drift back over to Nancy, who, just like him, had frozen in place.

Steve retracted his hand and stood up, recognizing immediately what had caused Billy to startle. Suddenly, they were back to square one, waiting around with too much distance between them.

“Hey,” Steve said softly, and he was slow with his reapproach, leaning back down and making sure Billy knew where his hands were—way up high, right beside his face. Steve gently scooped up the side of Billy’s head and brought him back to facing upwards, and looking back at Steve with a blank and panicked stare. “It’s just me, Billy.”

Steve then placed a long and incredibly soft—by the look of it—kiss to Billy’s lips, as if to pull him back into the trance he’d just been, or to give him a little bit of medicine to help calm his overactive nerves.

It was intimate. It was very intimate. Not just for the kiss itself—Nancy had seen enough of that already to be used to it—but it was in the eyes. Steve looked down at Billy so tenderly. So full of concern and desperate understanding.

And then there was Billy.

Billy who looked like a kicked puppy. Billy who looked like he was borderline on the verge of tears just looking up at her boyfriend. It looked like he was wearing somebody else’s face, because Nancy would have never thought she would see an expression like that out of Billy Hargrove. She never thought she’d see him so nervous and unsure. So out of his depth.

He was still straining to look at her.

“Hey, look at me.” Steve said, his voice barely above a whisper. If it weren’t for the stillness of the room, it would have been easily likely that she wouldn’t have heard a thing, even given how close she was to the conversation that didn’t involve her. “Not at her. At me.”

She could hear his quick and uneven breaths. She could see them with the rise and fall of his chest—so erratic. Steve just kissed him again, bringing a hand to rest right over Billy’s lungs as he did, as if to watch as the seconds passed as Billy’s breathing and heart rate slowed, relaxing into his lips like a sedative.

Steve was slow and calculated with his next moves. He didn’t let his hands travel too far south, and instead stopped at the shirt buttons just above Billy’s navel, undoing them with only one hand—his other hand was still up by Billy’s head, drawing circles with his thumb behind Billy’s ear.

Billy leaned into the touch.

It was soft, slow, and careful. Each movement designed to give Billy the chance to breathe, but not the chance to overthink and freak out again, and Nancy sat there, literally on the edge of her seat watching as the clothes started getting stripped off.

First was Billy’s shirt, buttons undone and laying open, exposing the final bit of his torso those two clasps managed to keep hidden. It wasn’t anything either of them hadn’t seen before, but something about the moment itself made it feel like they were all fully exposed.

Then Steve stood up, momentarily parting their kiss to pull his own shirt over his head with the help of Billy, who was pulling at the hem. She could’ve sworn she saw Billy chasing Steve’s lips, his head practically levitating up off the bed to follow Steve’s movement to savor just the extra split second of contact.

They took the opportunity of their already parted lips to take Billy’s shirt off the rest of the way, tossing both of their discarded garments on the floor behind the bed, as if they were obstacles in the way of the finish line.

Steve was back down within seconds, hands not immediately making a move to take off the rest of Billy’s offending clothing, and instead taking the opportunity to explore the canvas of Billy’s chest. She could tell that it was completely hairless, which was in striking contrast to Steve’s.

She always loved Steve’s chest hair. She loved the way it felt running through her fingers.

And so did Billy, apparently.

She hadn’t been paying too much attention to where Billy’s hands were. Not until they landed right on the same spot of Steve’s chest where hers always landed, stroking up and letting the gaps of his fingers wade through the coarse sea of hair.

And Steve’s hands were traveling the same route they always did on her, on Billy. Up, and over the breast, squeezing the soft tissue. If she was being honest with herself, her and Billy weren’t much different in the realm of chest size, and all things added together, it was like she was staring at herself in a way.

One of Steve’s fingers brushed over Billy’s nipple and Nancy could have sworn she heard him gasp at the sensation. Or maybe that was just her, because she was so intently focused on Steve’s hands that she sat there waiting, expecting to feel something when Steve’s finger grazed him as if she really was the one in Billy’s position.

But she felt nothing, and without even thinking, she snaked her hand under her own shirt, sticking it under the wire of her bra, and fully giving herself into the fantasy playing out before her very eyes.

She no longer had the mind to care whether or not anyone was looking at her.

Things were finally looking like they were progressing. Steve and Billy kissed for a long while, easing into everything at an agonizingly slow pace for Nancy, but at least when Steve finally reached down to work at Billy’s jeans, he didn’t freeze up.

Undoing Billy’s belt with one hand probably wasn’t the most time-sensitive way of doing it—Steve’s fingers kept fumbling as he tried pulling the end through the loops. Steve seemingly refused to move that other hand away from sitting in the center of Billy’s chest. Nancy could only assume Steve was feeling the same sensation Nancy was feeling with her own hand pressed to her chest—that strong and chaotic pumping of blood through her veins.

When Steve finally managed to free Billy of a closed zipper, he didn’t hesitate all the much before slipping that same free hand below the waistband of Billy’s underwear, and it was like there was a sudden jolt of electricity that was felt by all three of them, despite only two of them having had any contact for a circuit completion.

While it was a collective jolt, they all reacted pretty differently.

Nancy’s eyes widened, and she could have sworn she felt the beat of her heart pause completely for a full second.

Billy produced a sound, seemingly against his will and completely uncontrolled. Nancy could only describe it as shockingly delighted. She also assumed Billy was having a whole separate reaction downstairs…judging by Steve’s reaction.

Because Steve smiled, almost deviously, like he had a plan in his mind, and Nancy was sitting on the edge of her seat just waiting to hear it.

Steve dragged his tongue along his upper lip, as if he was staring directly at a dinner platter of all his favorite foods.

Steve brought himself even closer to Billy, chest resting against chest, his weight on top of the other boy, his mouth less than an inch away from the other boy's mouth.

He didn’t kiss him. He just let his hot breath hit Billy’s face as he spoke the words directly into Billy’s agape mouth.

“What do you wanna do?”

Nancy could actually see it that time. Her eyes had drifted down back to where Steve’s hand was still below Billy’s waistband, and she didn’t fail to notice the very subtle movement, and the ever so slight laugh that came from Steve in response.

“Someone’s eager,” he said.

Billy didn’t respond. He just stayed lying there with wide open eyes, mouth hung open in a perfect display of shock.

Steve didn’t acknowledge it—hell, he probably wasn’t even aware of it, so locked in and focused on Billy—but Billy was hardly the only eager person in the room, and it wasn’t like she was being subtle about it. She was biting her lower lip, and grinding against her heel much faster and violently than before. She wasn’t just eager, or excited. She was outright desperate.

More than anything, she was excited for Billy’s answer to Steve’s question. It was the one thing they didn’t discuss beforehand. She didn’t think they had to, seeing as that part was just between him and Billy, and not herself. It didn’t feel like she should have a say in any of that.

She didn’t want to have any say in it, because even if she was asked—just like Billy had been asked—she was almost positive she wouldn’t have been able to come up with an answer. Even sitting there without the question posed to her, she had no idea what she wanted. All she knew, all she wanted in that very moment, was to know what they wanted.

Something about knowing another person’s deepest desires lit something up inside Nancy. It was the type of thing Steve would never normally share with her, or with anyone for that matter. She could only assume the same for Billy. And yet, she was sitting there, right within earshot of an admission she was never meant to hear.

Billy let out a high-pitched whimper as Steve moved his hand against him. It was a sound that clearly made Steve happy, but it wasn’t the sound he—and Nancy—was waiting to come out of his mouth.

Steve dropped his lips back onto Billy’s, and it was less like a kiss, and more like he was trying to suck the answer from his throat. Kissing him into a sweet delusion that the words he was saying were just thoughts inside his head, where only he was privy to hear them.

Billy let out a long exhale through his nose, melting into the kiss. Clearly, whatever little spell Steve was casting was working wonders.

Steve parted too soon, leaving Billy chasing the kiss and meeting nothing but air after lifting his head up from the surface. He was absolutely delirious. High off of Steve’s kiss. It was like truth serum, and all Steve had to do was ask him one more time.

“What do you want to do, Billy?” he asked. “Whatever you want.”

There was barely a second of silence before Billy hummed and said

“Fuck me.”

Steve showed a look of momentary surprise, as if that was the last thing he expected to hear Billy say.

That thing he had said in the car, about it feeling like he was losing his virginity all over again, turns out he really wasn’t all that far off. She knew from the very beginning that Steve didn’t really know what he was doing. She knew this was as new for him as it was for her. But, it hadn't been very obvious that he was in way out of his head until right then, when his eyes had grown wide and he was suddenly at a loss for words.

“Oh—ok…”

It seemed that Billy noticed that too, and the delirium wore off.

“You’ve never fucked a guy before.” It wasn’t even a question. It was more like a realization.

There was so much going through her head. That initial excitement she had when he’d said it—that skip in her heart beat and hitch in her breath—hadn't disappeared by any means, but it was certainly muffled by all the other noise. The concern for Steve, the feeling of being exposed, the worry over the fact that everything had stopped and the desperation for it to continue. But more than all of that, the loudest thing ringing in her ears were all the questions she had about Billy.

He had been subverting all her expectations with every move since the moment he stepped through that front door. Every word out of his mouth was like a brand new piece of information that disproved scientific fact, leaving her to scrap everything and start over from scratch. The words that Billy said, while exciting to her, were the very last ones she expected him to say, or want. Steve seemed to be taking it all in with ease. All up until that point, when he finally felt like he was the fish out of water.

Steve was speechless and still, and his silence would have been palpable if Billy hadn’t taken away any ability he would’ve had to form words by taking hold of the nape of Steve’s neck, and suffocating him with another kiss.

Nancy was taken aback by just how well the two of them seemed to fit, like adjoining pieces of the same puzzle. Steve’s face softened and his eyes relaxed almost instantly when Billy kissed him—just like Billy when he was the one in Steve’s place. They were so easily able to calm each other, make each other feel safe. It was like they could read each other’s minds. Like they knew more than she did.

Nancy would be lying if she said that didn’t strike a nerve. Part of her wished she could be privy to the telepathic conversation taking place between the two, but another part of her wasn’t sure she’d want to know what they weren’t saying out loud, because if they weren’t saying it out loud, maybe it was for good reason.

Nancy thought a little too hard about Billy’s request…or was it a demand? She couldn’t really discern his tone from how low he spoke. She wasn’t very far from them, but the volume in which he had said those words had made it seem like they were a mile away. Those words. God, was it stupid that she never once considered that to be a possibility? She was grateful Billy wasn’t looking at her to see the look on her face, because it wasn't doing all that much to put down the rumor that Nancy Wheeler was a prude. Hell, she was beginning to question it herself because she couldn’t even wrap her mind around the mechanics of it all. Surely it wasn’t the same as what she and Steve did.

Steve. Billy had said it himself, although Steve hadn’t confirmed, she knew the truth. No, of course he hadn’t.

Steve seemed to finally find his bearings, and spoke in stark contrast to the blubbering mess he’d been just moments ago.

“No.” he said, pausing to take what seemed to be a relaxing breath, “You’d be the first.”

There. The confirmation that had Nancy sitting on the edge of her seat. Nancy never thought of Steve being anything mysterious. He seemed to be an open book. But if the past week had taught her anything, it was to stop acting like she knew everything all of the time. But, she couldn’t help but feel a little smug at Steve’s confirmation, because at least there was one thing she’d gotten right.

“But…”

There was always a “but” wasn’t there?

“I’ve done, y’know, that before.”

Without saying another word, Steve pushed himself off of Billy and rolled over to pull something out of his nightstand drawer, leaving both her and Billy speechless with his admission.

So much for Steve being an open book, because in all the conversations they had about Steve’s rendezvous with a good chunk of the girls in his year, somehow anal never came up? Nancy could only sit there and try to think about who. And by the pleased yet shocked look on Billy’s face, she could tell he was wondering the same thing.

Nancy ran through the list of names in her head. Stacy? No way. Lori? Not a chance. Abigail? Well, that name was a surprise to start with as Nancy only ever knew her as the girl who sat in the front pew and carted a bible around along with her textbooks. On the other hand, she wasn’t deaf to the jokes that flew around about girls like Abigail, that “the Jesus freaks are the freakiest in bed”. Perhaps there was actually some truth to that.

Somehow, in her spiral, she’d missed a few steps, and once back in reality she found herself looking at the two boys undressing each other the rest of the way with an alarming amount of haste. She was partly worried, with the way Billy was desperately pulling at Steve’s jeans that he would cause a tear in the denim. Something must’ve been said between the two of them that she hadn’t picked up to warrant it, or perhaps it was just another telepathic exchange she should be grateful she didn’t have to hear.

She wished Steve had thought to take that route with the last thing he said, because that was all she could think about. She continued to run through the list of girls, never quite settling on the most likely candidate. She knew she wasn’t going to be able to stop thinking about it, so rather than wasting her energy on shoving the whole thing down, she twisted it around. Instead of going all detective and trying to suss out the girl, she thought about the boy, about Steve. She thought about what Steve must’ve felt. She thought about what he must’ve looked like, about the sounds he would have made. She wondered if they were anything like the sounds he made when he was with her.

Then, somehow right then, it dawned on her that she wasn’t going to have to continue to wonder.

With that thought, any reservations she had, any worry of being watched or feelings of uncertainty were gone as she let her fingertips breach her waistband.

By the time she’d gathered herself again, her eyes first caught sight of the now larger pile of clothes on the ground, and she didn’t even have to look up to know that the two of them were completely naked. Somehow, when she did look up, the sight did nothing for her. Well, at least, them being naked changed nothing. They were still doing that same little back and forth as before—long desperate kisses and wandering hands—the only difference was there was one less barrier, and less up to the imagination. She’d seen Steve’s naked body a countless number of times before, and as for Billy, there wasn’t anything surprising below the belt. It was exactly as she expected. Nothing for additional intrigue.

It wasn’t too much too fast, which was something she knew she was grateful for. And even though her care over potentially being watched had mostly subsided, it was a lot easier to ease into everything with the two boys in front of her with faces pressed so close that any view they might have had of her would be minimal.

She tried not to think about what she was doing. Everytime she thought too hard about it, it never worked. She’d sink, and her mind would run instead of wander, and the overthinking would get to her right before the cliff's edge, but only ever close enough to see it. Something would stop her before she would ever feel the free fall.

She had to shut off her control when she did it, and let her mind do its own thing. She stared ahead, and looked at what was happening before her—Steve was wielding what she now realized was the bottle of lube he’d pulled from his nightstand drawer, clicking it open, and squeezing what seemed to her like a generous amount onto his outstretched index and middle fingers—and she let her fingers move about, not thinking about where they were going, just blindly chasing the good feeling. Looking for the sweet spot.

Her eyes, having relaxed and nearly shut, darted open as a sudden sound entered her ears. Billy’s voice. Honestly, Nancy wasn’t sure if they hadn’t been talking this whole time, or if her hearing had only just returned.

“You sure you know what you’re doing, pretty boy?” Billy teased.

Surely he did. He said he’d done it before, and she couldn’t imagine it would be that different with Billy being a boy. Billy obviously wasn’t serious with his question. He was clearly meaning to coax something out of Steve. Only Nancy didn’t quite realize that until after he’d coaxed it out of him.

Steve looked cocky, smiling down at Billy with those gel coated fingertips still hovering in the air. “I know the golden rule,” Steve said, and those aforementioned fingers began their downward descent, falling into a place obscured by Billy’s thigh. It didn’t matter that Steve’s hand moved out of her vision, because she could see the chill run through Billy’s body. He inhaled sharply, and exhaled loudly, and Nancy didn’t know exactly what Steve was doing behind Billy’s thighs, but she knew by that reaction that Billy liked it. Steve smiled, proud of himself, and finished what he was saying. “As long as you’re feeling good, then I gotta be doing something right.”

Good God. Nancy knew the words weren’t directed at her but it was too easy to pretend that they were, because right as he said it, her own fingers had found the spot, and it felt more than just good. Steve was definitely doing something right.

Steve had started doing something to Billy. Something more than what he’d already done, because Billy was close to writhing. His neck was flexed as if he was straining to get a good look at Steve’s headboard, and the hand of his that she could see was gripping the fabric on Steve’s bed. For a second, Nancy wondered if he was in pain. Sure, she’d never experienced it for herself, but she could imagine that what Steve was doing, if not done correctly, would hurt. Nancy would have made that assumption based on Billy’s movements alone, but the sounds he was making were telling a different story.

If she wasn’t sure then, that Billy was loving every one of Steve’s moves, she was sure when Steve asked the question.

“How does this feel?” Steve asked, and she could tell by the look in his eye that he already knew the answer, and like her, he just wanted to hear Billy say it.

Billy nodded, almost frantically. “Mmhmm,” was all he managed to get out. It looked like he was preparing to say something else, his mouth open and tongue moving like it was beginning to form a word, when a sharp inhale replaced his voice. Instead of finishing the thought, and saying what he was going to say, he just nodded his head again, somehow even more frantic. Another one of those nonverbal cues, except this time, somehow, Nancy was able to pick up on the meaning too.

More.

“Like that?” Steve asked, again, already knowing the answer. Nancy was beginning to get on the same wavelength, because she knew the answer too. Billy nodded again.

“Feels good.” Billy barely managed to get the words to come out as something coherent. Little did he know that wasn’t necessary, as it seemed they could all read each other’s minds at that moment. “Don’t stop.” he added.

“Good.” Steve said, and Nancy could tell just the praise alone did something to Billy, letting out a small whimper. “You let me know if anything changes.”

Steve was always so attentive. That part wasn’t surprising. But the way it felt being an onlooker was. Not only was watching all the ways Steve was affecting Billy doing a lot for her, but just Steve alone, seeing how he wielded his power and control with a steady hand, how he was so focused on Billy, how he wanted nothing more than to make his partner feel good, first and foremost. It was the kind of thing that got lost in the heat of it all. When Nancy was in Billy’s position, Steve was the same way. Albeit, not as slow and careful as he was with Billy, not treating her as something overly fragile. Still, he was attentive. Always checking in, asking questions just for the sake of asking them, diving into her mind and not taking any advantage while in there. Just exploring, and getting to know the new environment.

While things had been moving very slowly, Steve hadn’t been with Billy for that long in the grand scheme of things. Not as long as he’d been with Nancy. Steve had been given over a year to learn how to read her, and understand her, taking notes each time they had sex on what she liked and didn’t like. He didn’t have that advantage with Billy, so perhaps that was another reason he was taking things slow, aside from the obvious. Thinking back, the first time she and Steve had sex, he was slow with her too. Maybe that should make her feel jealous, that that part wasn’t special. It didn’t.

Her mind was wandering again, and she was losing that feeling. Nancy turned her focus back on the boys. Funnily enough, during all her overthinking about how slow things were progressing, things had started moving way faster than she was expecting.

They were back to kissing, except Steve’s right hand stayed hidden in that space she couldn’t see. Their positions had changed too. Steve had settled himself in between Billy’s spread legs, and Billy hadn’t moved much, but she noticed how his feet had moved further up on the bed, his knees bent at a tighter angle than before. Steve’s other hand was back on Billy’s chest too, and it wasn’t until Nancy noticed that she realized her own hand was still slipped under her bra.

She watched, and matched Steve’s movements, and put herself back into the scene.

For the most part, aside from the satisfaction evident in Steve’s smug smile, Billy was the only one getting any sort of pleasure. At least, that was what Nancy assumed with all of his toe curling and sheet gripping. Steve had seemed too calm and collected to be anywhere near where Billy was at. She wasn’t blind to Billy’s dick. It was hard not to notice with the way it was sticking straight up, almost as if it was begging to be gawked at. She caught Steve glancing down more than once or twice to steal a look, and she didn’t fail to notice the way he bit his lower lip each time. Clearly he was feeling something too, but any visual confirmation like she had with Billy was hidden behind Billy’s fucking thigh. If she wasn’t already busy doing her own thing, she’d have stood up, walked over, and taken a look for herself, like a surgeon over an operating table.

Instead, she just kept looking out for all of Steve’s other visual cues, even going as far as tallying up each and every time Steve’s top teeth dragged against his lower lip.

She had to keep reminding herself to relax, and stop letting her mind wander. She was losing sight of the real task at hand—just enjoying it.

“I think you might be ready.” Steve said, as if Billy was a meal he was preparing.

Billy let out an exhausted groan. “You think?” he said sarcastically, lifting his head as if to gesture in front of him. Billy’s hands were still preoccupied with gripping the sheets. Steve’s fingers must have still been inside of him.

That thought right there sent a wave through her body. She really hadn’t quite grasped exactly what was happening until right then. Knowing was enough to bring the good feeling back, and quickly she was beginning to understand Billy’s urgency.

Steve lifted himself again, and those fingers she’d assumed were just inside of Billy were freed, and she could’ve sworn her heart stopped when she saw it. God, she was being dramatic. She’d seen Steve’s dick countless times, up close and personal, and yet she’d never seen him like that. It was the same, but the person it was attached to…it was an entirely different person. Somehow she hadn’t noticed it before, but Steve was sweating, and shaking. Normally he was so suave, never nervous when it came to sex, and Billy had him shaking.

Wait. Maybe she’d gotten it all wrong. Because the next thing she noticed was that Steve was no longer looking down at Billy.

He was looking over at her.

The illusion had fallen.

He was looking at her going to town on herself and she couldn’t even be bothered to stop. It was too late, he had seen, and somehow him seeing filled her with even more dread than Billy seeing would have.

And Billy. He was still laying there with his eyes looking up at the ceiling, none the wiser about what was happening between her and Steve.

The only thing Nancy could think as to why Steve was that he was upset by what he saw. All that time she’d spent working through her own potential jealousy, never once considering Steve might feel that too when it came down to it. Was he disgusted by her? So many emotions were flooding her head and she felt frozen, which didn’t help her case being stuck with one hand under her shirt and the other in her pants.

She just looked back at him, and tried her damndest to read the expression on her face. She had to have been missing something. She had to.

It felt like she had been staring at him forever, but Billy was still laying there so blissfully unaware that it couldn’t have been that long. She felt like she had to be wrong, because it didn’t make sense. Steve knew it was part of the plan, so he shouldn’t have been surprised.

Then she saw it. Maybe she only saw it because she was desperately looking for it, but in that expression so desperately trying to hide what he needed, she figured it out. Steve was nervous. He wasn’t jealous. Neither were the reason he was looking at her.

He was just like Billy before, looking at her, waiting for her to let him know it was okay.

She’d said it so many times before that she just assumed it didn’t need to be said again.

Then just one second later, she realized he and Billy weren’t the only ones that needed it. She needed it too.

They both needed to know not only was it okay to want it, but it was okay that they were—very obviously—enjoying it.

Nancy gave him a soft and knowing smile, and nodded her head. She glanced down at Billy and saw he still hadn’t noticed the pause in the action, and she took the opportunity to mouth the words—for extra measure—it’s okay.

Steve smiled, and it was as if he read her mind when he silently repeated her words back to her.

It’s okay.

It was all okay.

And finally—fucking hopefully—they’d jumped the last hurdle.

Steve had gathered his composure and resumed what he’d been originally doing when he lifted himself off of Billy—grabbing the condom, which she presumed he also pulled from the nightstand along with the lube, and sliding it on himself. It appeared to take him a few moments to get Nancy to disappear again. Part of her wished she could just make herself invisible, clearly it would have made things a lot easier.

Nancy was shocked that after every hiccup, every uncertainty, they were still going through with it. She felt stupid, really. How had she been so naive to think it would go smoothly. Maybe it was because it was always so easy with Steve, she figured it wouldn’t change much by just adding one more factor.

But then again, Billy was the additional factor, and perhaps it was her own fault that their initial plans went awry.

She took a deep breath, tossed away the thought, and freed her mind the best she could because she earned it, and she had no intention of giving it up. She couldn’t.

Steve kissed Billy again, consuming him like his lips had been coated with a potion to ease all tensions. Maybe they were. She knew the taste of his cigarette had done something to her. She licked her own lips at the thought, and she found herself craving that familiar taste.

Billy’s eyes were closed, not squeezed shut, but relaxed, like he’d spent all the energy he had to keep them open.

Steve gave Billy one last kiss and hovered there, his breath falling into Billy’s face. Nancy noticed the pink in his cheeks from the concentrated flow of hot air. As Steve was heavily breathing, he was also shifting around his lower half, and one of the hands he was using for support reentered that space out of her vision.

Steve’s face was so close to Billy’s that their noses were touching, and Billy had opened his mouth just slightly, as if trying to swallow Steve’s every exhale, and the words that were soon to follow.

“Tell me if I need to stop,” Steve said, and her own heart fluttered at the comment, but she pushed any extra thoughts about it away. “Tell me how it feels.”

Nancy took a deep breath, and held it.

She didn’t release it until Billy had opened his eyes.

It looked like at the same moment she released her breath, Billy started to hold his.

He looked stunned for a second, but it was short enough that neither her nor Steve had the chance to react before Billy eased their worries, when the wide eyes and clenched jaw and tightly sealed lips were followed up by a long, deep, and seemingly unintentional moan. It was breathy, almost like Steve had knocked the wind out of him.

Nancy’s eyes darted back and forth between Billy and Steve’s faces. Billy was still all wide eyed and open mouthed, but more relaxed, like the only facial muscles he had the use of were the ones controlling his eyelids. Steve was all focus, with his trained eyes and tight jaw. At first glance he seemed like he had it all together, but Nancy also noticed the hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead, his own heavy breaths and stifled vocalizations and knew his mask was falling off right along with Billy’s.

Nancy didn’t have a mask on to begin with. She’d put all her chips in on the assumption that she’d be like a fly on the wall, going completely unnoticed so long as she didn’t provoke them. She’d been doing a pretty good job at not paying attention to her own actions and letting whatever wanted to happen, happen. While it felt good—God, it felt good—her masklessness ran the risk of humiliation. She’d been paying so little attention to her own actions that as she sat there, reveling in each and every one of Billy’s moans, she was completely deaf to whether or not she was making those same sounds. The tingling and shockwaves would have absolutely warranted it for where she was at right around then. Every orbit of her two fingers against her clit was enough to at least make her feel a little breathless each time.

Nancy couldn’t pull her eyes away from Steve’s bare hips, wearing Billy’s legs like a belt, ankles locked together and pressing into Steve’s lower back. She found herself glancing from mole to mole, mapping the constellations in her head. She’d never seen them from that angle before, so used to only ever tracing the moles on his back while he was asleep. It was like she was staring at an entirely new night sky, with so many stars yet to be named.

Even in the dim light, it seemed as though Billy glowed bright enough to reveal more than she’d ever been able to see.

Her eyes naturally fell to that one mole on his side that seemed like it was all alone. Bigger than all the others, just begging for her attention. Steve’s hips were moving at a much slower pace than what she was used to, and she was surprised that Billy wasn’t begging him “faster, faster,” like she would have expected—like she had been doing in the back of her mind. Their respective paces were mismatched, which made things slightly more difficult, but Nancy responded in the only way she knew how, and that was to simply follow Steve’s lead.

Edging wasn’t exactly easy without someone else’s manipulation, but Nancy was always up for a challenge.

She just kept focusing on all of the little details. Billy’s legs spread so wide she thought about how she could test just how flexible he really was. The pads of his fingers digging into the soft flesh of Steve’s lower back, creating crevasses and making themselves a home under Steve’s skin. Steve’s lips seemed to have a magnetic pull against them, landing anywhere and everywhere on Billy’s body that they could reach, admiring and relishing in it all as if Billy was something to be prized and worshiped.

Billy whimpered, the sound caught in the back of his throat somehow making its way passed his tightly sealed lips and heard.

Nancy continued to slow down, continued to focus on the little things, trying her best not to be too swayed by the sounds Billy was making. She wanted to match right up with them, perfectly in sync like a pair of world class synchronized swimmers. Billy’s toes curled, so did hers. She faked it, responding with his every move with an identical move until she didn’t have to anymore, and their breaths became perfectly aligned. The illusion became clear.

“Fuck, Steve.” Billy said with all of his breath. It was the first thing either of them had said since the beginning of their whole ordeal. Or, maybe they had said something prior, and Nancy had just been way too deep inside her head to hear any of it as it was said. Billy’s voice sounded nothing like it had before. That deep voice she just knew was fake was completely gone. The pitch was high, nearly unrecognizable and entirely authentic. The sound of his voice drew her attention back to him, and of course out of all the things to catch her eyes first, it was that dumb head of hair.

She never really appreciated how golden it was. Those blonde curls splayed against the mattress, gleaming from what little light poured in from outside Steve’s windows. It was pretty, she thought, and that surprised her. ‘Pretty’ was rarely a term she’d ever associated with a boy. In fact, the only boy she’d ever really thought was pretty was Steve—his deep brown eyes and chestnut brown hair all paired together with that soft smile—Steve was pretty. Billy wasn’t pretty, at least, she didn’t think so before. He was tough, gruff—he looked like he was born to be covered in grease and adorned with leather. Pretty—to Nancy—always meant soft. Billy wasn’t soft. He was hardened, rigid, sharp as a knife.

That was what she thought.

But looking at him underneath Steve—the soft hair, the soft features, the soft skin…god…Billy was so pretty. Blue eyes, golden hair with skin shown so much love from the sun, the curves of his body looking like the never-touched dunes in the desert, making a shape she wanted to trace with her fingers.

Billy whimpered again, and her entire body felt it.

God, she wanted to touch him. She wanted to be closer.

She felt so far away, despite being just barely out of arm's reach. The distance seemed to only grow right along with her desire to become part of it all, fully, in every way.

Billy moaned again, and so did Steve, simultaneously, like Steve was the melody and Billy was the harmony. They made a beautiful song together. Nancy wasn’t sure how she felt admitting that, but it was the truth.

Looking up, pulling herself from her thought tornado, she finally started to grasp the situation. She’d been so inside her head, she’d missed so much.

Billy was panting like he was on the brink of passing out, and Steve didn’t look much better. He was fucking Billy. Like, truly, fucking Billy. Nancy could only stare as he thrusted himself in and out at a very quick pace.

That was also the moment she realized that she’d fallen behind.

Those moans and whimpers only grew in frequency, right along with the release of desperate expletives and pleas from both parties taking up space on the bed. They were close. If Nancy didn’t know just by the scene alone, she knew for sure when Billy began to chant it—alerting everyone in the room the he was on the brink.

Nancy wasn’t, not even remotely. She’d been so focused on slowing herself down, she’d been lapped.

“Steve, I’m gonna cum!”

“Me too,” Steve exhaled the words, “cum with me.”

Nobody was waiting for her, and it was clear she had no shot at catching up now. Perhaps last place was just her destiny.

One of Steve’s hands traveled down until it had found itself wrapped around Billy’s cock, red-tipped and leaking pre, visibly aching to be touched. Steve’s other hand stayed put on Billy’s chest, squeezing Billy’s pec like it was his own personal stress reliever, making a point to drag a thumb over an erect nipple, keeping Billy extra stimulated.

Nancy was out of breath just watching. She’d picked up her pace and she felt close, just not close enough. Billy and Steve were miles ahead of her, assisted by their raging teenage boy hormones.

Billy’s lower lips stayed trapped between his teeth, for so long and with so much force Nancy was sure there’d be permanent indentations left after they finally released their hold. Still, even with all that effort, he couldn’t keep the cacophony at bay. Nancy just wished he’d let it out, because the sounds we’re doing just as much to her as the sight of the whole thing was.

Nope. Too late. It was too late.

The next thing she knew, as she sat there shamelessly touching herself, standing on her tallest tiptoes trying to reach the height the two boys in front of her were at, they were coming. She watched as Billy’s cum shot up and coated Steve’s stomach. She couldn’t actually see Steve coming as he was still buried deep inside Billy, but she could see it in his face—the way his jaw went slack and his eyebrows shot up to his hairline. She just kept trying, trying, trying.

Steve rolled over and collapsed on his back, completely spent. Nancy wasn’t sure exactly just how much time had elapsed, but it felt like an eternity and nothing at all at the exact same time. It was certainly not enough time for her as she sat there, the moment ruined, her orgasm hanging in the air just too far out of her reach.

She sat there and she closed her eyes, stretching as much as she could to reach what was so close, yet so far—too far. It was just too far.

Her breath remained unsteady as she sat there, daring to open her eyes again to take a look at the scene in front of her. At least they managed to enjoy themselves. That was what Nancy said she wanted. Right? Make Steve happy. Make him feel good. That was supposed to be enough, she thought.

She opened her eyes, and felt the immediate urge to shut them right back up when they were met with a pair of piercing blue from across the room. Billy was lying on his back, his hands coming to rest of his chest, right on top of Steve’s hand that remained through all of it. Billy was looking right at her. Steve wasn’t. He was on the side of Billy opposite of her, shielded by Billy’s body with his face buried in the pillows. He couldn’t possibly have known of the full conversation happening between her and Billy with just their stares alone.

Billy’s eyes barely moved from where they were locked in on hers, just glancing down for less than a second, looking straight at where her hand still breached the barrier of her waistband…then right back up. She half expected the next look to say it all, fill her with shame—it didn’t.

The look was almost…sad…in a way. She had no idea what she must have looked like from Billy’s point of view, but with a look like that, she could only assume she looked like a pathetic wreck. She assumed that the sad look was pitying.

She wanted to move—fix herself up and make herself more presentable, because she didn’t like how it felt as if there was a spotlight shining directly on her, lighting up all of her deepest insecurities for even the people sitting high up in the nosebleeds to see. None of what was happening was a part of her plan…although, thinking back, she never really got that far. She never considered what would happen in the aftermath.

But was it really the aftermath? In Billy’s eyes, maybe. In Steve’s eyes, definitely. But in her eyes?

Things hadn’t finished for her just yet. The only problem was, she was at a loss as to how she could possibly go about continuing.

Billy still stared at her, which only seemed to further complicate everything going on inside her head. She didn’t like how she couldn’t read his expression. Billy Hargrove was proving to be the one mystery she might need a little help with solving. She’d been going full sleuth all night, only to have been played a fool by Billy’s red herring.

His eyes on her made her skin crawl, and she did everything she could with her own stare to make him look away, or at the very least stop looking at her like that. Time felt frozen with his eyes on her. It felt like an eternity had passed.

She just stared back harder, adorning a look on her face just like El’s when she was moving things with her mind…angry looking—a little—but mostly just focused.

She felt stupid with her face stuck like that. She was just waiting for the pin to drop and the chorus of laughter to commence. That was always how it happened in movies. Somebody would do something embarrassing and not a soul alive wasn’t there to witness, taking only a second before raising their arms to point and laugh. They’d form a circle around her. They’d get closer and closer and she’d feel like the walls were closing in and soon enough she’d find breathing to be the hardest thing to do.

Of course, in actuality, it wasn’t like the movies. Nothing was. Not this time.

Those eyes that once stared at her, so unreadable, vanished, turned away in the opposite direction.

She took a breath, relaxing only a little. Then she realized.

Those eyes were facing Steve.

Suddenly all she wanted was him to look at her again, or at the very least, see what they looked like…despite the fact that they never told her a thing.

She didn’t like any of what was going on. She didn’t like how it felt like she was just waiting for something to happen. She didn’t like how it felt like she had lost all of her control over the situation. She hated that the most, being left to the mercy of other people.

Then, there was whispering, and she hated that even more.

It was what she’d asked for, to be left out of the equation—that pesky little remainder in a division problem.

She thought that was what she wanted.

It was becoming more and more evident by the minute that, even if their equation wasn’t clean, where everything could just be so evenly divided, she wanted to be a part of it—included, like a fraction, rational.

She wanted to know what they were saying.

She wanted to ask. She wanted to use that snark she practiced so well and remind them that whispering was rude when other people were around. She wanted to inject herself into their conversation, and she would have if her lips hadn’t felt like they’d been sealed shut.

It was awful. She felt so weak. She hated feeling weak.

She wanted to scream, but those sealed lips wouldn’t come loose even for that.

The whispering stopped. That was the first thing she noticed. Then, she noticed blue eyes back on her. Then she noticed those blue eyes had company.

Steve was finally looking at her. For a moment, when it was just Billy looking at her, she’d forgotten Steve was even in the room.

Usually she loved it when Steve looked at her. She loved when his eyes would always find hers from across any room, or when they were alone, watching something on TV, and his eyes would drift off the screen just to stare at her. She loved it especially when they were having sex, when he couldn’t take his eyes off of her, his pupils blown wide. Earlier, she had been hoping he’d look over at her. Now, all she wanted was for him to look away.

The eyes on Steve were just like the eyes on Billy. Sure they were deep brown, not a piercing blue. They weren’t that look of love and lust she had been yearning for. They were sad eyes of unnecessary concern and the weakness continued to seep into her.

Then there was a shift, and her gaze was pulled from the trance of Steve’s eyes, down just slightly to the source of the sound—the creaking crumple of moving limbs on a spring mattress.

Billy had rolled over onto his side, his whole naked body turned towards her. It was a vulnerable position, she noted. She thought back to the beginning of the night…god…how long ago was that? For her it felt like it had been forever ago, but really it could’ve only been a matter of maybe twenty minutes…

Twenty minutes or forever ago, Billy had been in her position—put on the spot, nervous, out of the loop, terrified, uncertain…there were more words, all of them running through her head like she’d consumed the whole thesaurus. There Billy was, lying in a bed with her boyfriend, fully naked, still coming down from the effects of the orgasm said boyfriend had given him. There he was with an outstretched hand, branching out towards her.

She remembered looking at him, smiling, and attempting to settle all those nerves he’d built up inside of him with her simple “it’s okay, Billy.”

She could only assume that was what the outstretched arm was. It was Billy—and Steve’s—way of telling her that it was okay.

It shouldn’t have been so simple, but upon her own realization, the tightness in her gut began to dissipate.

It was little, minuscule, but enough nonetheless to at least melt her out of her frozen situation—the hand that had stayed beneath the wire of her bra, clinging to her breast like a lifeline, moved down and out, and slowly met Billy’s still outstretched hand.

It felt so weird, especially with her other hand still where it was. She wanted to move it for dignity’s sake, but at the same time…she wanted to finish. Usually, she was okay with going without, but not now. Not this time. This time was different. It was her idea. She’d been thinking about it everyday for a week. She deserved her own happy ending just as much as they did.

She just kept looking back at them, trying to make them feel just as vulnerable as she did so that they were all finally on a level playing field.

Nancy hadn’t realized until her hand had finally made contact with Billy’s, their fingertips grazing past one another until they were both holding on, and she’d felt a pull…she may have misinterpreted the meaning of the outstretched hand.

Billy hadn’t yanked her by any means, but the pull was still strong. Strong enough that, given how she was caught so off guard, she was easily carried out of her chair. She had no way to fight against what she hadn’t expected in the first place. She quickly went from a seated position to standing, the heel she’d been riding falling to the floor with an ungraceful thump to the floor. Everything had, somehow, become ten times more awkward than it had the whole night…and obviously, that was saying something.

The night hadn’t seemed to really follow the rules of time. It was forever and twenty minutes, alternating between moments of fast and slow. Always too fast, and too slow.

This was the first time in the night that the timing seemed just right. Because everything started moving really fast.

Billy had sat up and moved his body to the edge of the bed, leaving an open space next to a rather confused Steve.

He’s leaving?

That was Nancy’s first thought. She could hardly admit it to herself, but there was no denying the feeling. Every ache in her gut told her she did not want that.

Though, she still hadn’t found her voice yet to say anything about it.

Billy was still holding her hand, and guiding her. She liked this. Normally she liked being the one in control—the one with the game plan—but in this instance, she was happy to follow someone else’s lead. She’d had enough of a spotlight.

Billy had guided her exactly where she expected, right into that open spot next to Steve, who just looked at her with a smile. By this point, Billy had finally let go, and she’d finally pulled her hand out from her waistband, making both hands free to do exactly what she’d been dying to do…touch.

She brought her hand up to cup Steve’s face, and she couldn’t hold herself back from kissing him. She had to. She thought she might die if she didn’t. She could also tell he was a bit shaky, part of it likely due to his own come down—she’d never seen him cum like that before…she knew, logically, that should’ve made her feel a type of way. It didn’t.

The other reason for the shakiness, well, that was just the even playing field at work.

The kiss was short, just enough for a taste and the gift of some much needed confidence. They parted, and she was surprised to find that Billy had made no attempt to make his escape. He just stood there looking at them with his knees pressing against the edge of the bed.

She half expected time to slow, just like it had in all her moments of uncertainty, but the speed continued to progress.

Billy bent over, wrapping his hands around Nancy’s ankles as he crawled back onto the bed.

Okay. So. He definitely wasn’t leaving.

Nancy looked to Steve, hoping he’d have an answer to at least one of the million questions flying through his head. He seemed to be able to read her mind. Unfortunately for her, she was only met with the shake of a head. So he couldn’t even answer one. Great.

Billy’s hands began to move north. Up. Up. They were at her knees.

Too fast.

She went to speak, but none of the words she had on her tongue would come out. All she could do to tell him to slow down was to tense, and pull her knees up.

“Sorry.” Billy said, and again, she realized, they’d been silent that whole time. Billy was the only one with the courage to speak.

Nancy took a deep breath, reminding her of everything she had witnessed up until this point. Reminding herself that Billy wasn’t scary, that she had Steve right beside her, that everything was equally scary for all three of them.

“What’s happening?” She managed to get those two words out. No more than that, just enough. She was less focused on the chosen words and more on the tone of voice, making sure she didn’t come off as angry or annoyed or any other emotion other than curiosity, because if what she thought was happening was indeed happening…she really didn’t want to scare him off.

She just wanted to be in the loop.

Billy still looked like he’d been frightened in spite of Nancy’s attempts, but he didn’t pull his hands away. They were still touching her knees. That had to count for something.

Nancy wanted to look over at Steve. She could feel his heavy breathing on her neck. She couldn’t, though. She had to keep her eyes on Billy as she awaited an answer.

Which was the best decision, because she was able to watch the lines on his face change with a release of tension as the fright formed into a new emotion. She got to watch as he put on a shy smile—shy…huh, she was still getting used to that.

“I just figured…” he began. His words were slow and obviously carefully chosen. “It’s not fair that only Steve and I have all the fun.”

Nancy felt her breath stop, the sharp inhale lodged in the back of her throat. Her whole body felt like it had gone numb, all except for her stomach, where she could feel the butterflies coming to life again.

“I thought—” the two words came out of her mouth in haste, the thoughts in her head being forced into words on her lips, no idea of the ones that would follow. Fortunately for her, the thought that had come out was an incomplete one, giving her ample time to clamp her lips closed and finish her thought before sharing it with the rest of the world.

She thought…she thought…Fuck! She didn’t even know what she thought, or, at least, her brain was suddenly at a loss for the word…or…well…the appropriate word.

In the narrative she created in her head, Billy only had eyes for Steve—for the boy, not the girl. In the story she wrote, Billy’s womanizer reputation was merely a facade, or a cover. It wasn’t truth. She’d been picking up evidence all night that seemed to prove every suspicion, theory, and story she came up with about that one piece. All until the moment Billy laid his hands on her. She thought…

“I thought,” she repeated, the words leaving her again without warning, “you were…?”

She trailed off, the unsaid word left hanging in the hair. She’d found the word she’d been looking for, but she couldn’t say it. It wasn’t the kind of word you said out loud in Indiana.

Billy seemed to understand that fact too, probably a lot more intimately than she did, judging by the look on his face. He looked relieved that she hadn’t said it. Then he sighed. “I am,” he said simply.

She had to double back, make sure he was answering the question she thought she had asked him. It just made her even more confused. “But?” Again with the incomplete sentences.

Billy was quick to respond. “It’s not like it’s a hardship, Nancy,” he said. “You wouldn’t be the first girl, and I’m sure you’ve heard the reviews.”

She had. Of course she had. She could always hear the girls whispering and giggling at the back of the class, going on and on about how Billy would go down on them. Initially, the first time she heard it, it made her want to gag.

Billy hadn’t existed in her pool of interest. Not until Steve had dragged him in against her will just to leave her sitting there with Billy at her knees, with the proposition at her feet, thinking about all those things she once heard those girls say and no longer feeling the need to gag.

“Are you sure?” It was all she could think to ask, because she feared saying anything more might scare him off. It was his fault she was thinking about the rumors. It was his fault she was curious to see for herself how true they were, even if curiosity had struck before. She pushed away that little part of herself that wanted to pry into Billy’s whole ordeal, and dissect the slight frown that disappeared quickly. She could worry about that later.

She just shook it off, and focused her attention back on Billy, staring him down like she was drilling holes with her eyes.

“I offered,” he said simply, “if it’s fine by you two, it’s fine by me.”

You two. Right. There were three of them there.

Steve was still at her side. She’d forgotten he was even there. Everything had just felt so intimate between her and Billy in that moment. She looked over at him, her neck feeling a little stiff, and she wondered if it actually felt that way, or if her brain was just tricking her to keep her from looking away from Billy.

Billy who was promising her Heaven, or something close to it.

Still, she strained against her muscles to look over at Steve, because of course he was the one standing in her way.

It was only fair, she thought. She was simply reiterating Billy’s initial point, but it remained true in her mind.

But, they hadn’t discussed anywhere beyond what Steve was allowed to do with Billy. They never ventured into the territory of herself taking part in the activity. Was it really fair to assume Steve would be okay with it? It was her idea after all, not his.

She looked at him, expecting an answer to come eventually, all the while mulling over everything and trying to reach a conclusion of what she might do if Steve were to decide he wasn’t okay with it.

Steve wasn’t looking at Billy when he next spoke. He looked at her, and every instinct was telling her to turn away, terrified of the look on Steve’s face when he would inevitably say no. She tried to look away, but she was frozen, forced to witness it all crumble before her eyes.

Except, everything remained intact. The foundation stayed strong enough to hold them.

It appeared Steve had been just as limited for words as she was, saying “yes” and “it’s okay with me” and anything else she and Billy may have needed to confirm consent with a simple nod of his head, and little reluctance behind his eyes.

And the reason behind that minimal reluctance was made clear by the few words he managed to ask Billy.

“What do I…?” Steve couldn’t finish his sentences either, apparently. What do I do during all of this? That was the question he was trying to ask. It was a good question, and she’d learned early on that Steve preferred to have a game plan.

Billy smiled at that, and it was in that moment that Billy finally took his hands off of her knees. The weight being lifted off of her made it feel as though her legs were levitating off of the bed.

Billy was crawling forward, except not towards her, but towards Steve. It only took him half of a foot in length to reach him, but once he did, he didn’t even take a breath before kissing Steve.

It was different that time. It wasn’t filled with heat and lust. It was closer to the kind of kiss someone might give to their significant other in the morning. Soft and chaste. It was like the kisses Steve gave her behind the privacy of an open locker door while the bell was still ringing.

Though, from the outside perspective looking in, the feeling it gave her was nowhere near the same. The blood quickly rushed to her cheeks and the butterflies that had seemed to have gone dormant in her bout of anxiety sprang back to life, fluttering around inside her stomach, and down. Tingling.

She watched Steve sink and melt and it was as if all of his worries had been swept away with the single, soft touch of Billy’s lips. It was incredible, really. You never really get the time to think too much about how a kiss makes you feel, so caught up in the moment, the memory of it only tangible during contact. She could see it now, though, and she wondered if Steve looked like that when he was kissing her. She could only hope.

The kiss was short, but to her it had felt like time had frozen still and she was just privy to their freeze frame. In reality it was just her own mind failing to keep up with the fastly growing pace of everything, when suddenly they had parted and Billy finally gave an answer to Steve’s unfinished question.

“Just kiss your girlfriend, Steve.” he said, his hand still gracing the side of Steve’s cheek, “I’ll take care of the rest.”

Billy’s voice was both incredibly reassuring and enticing. He backed away from Steve and looked at Nancy again, asking the question with his eyes alone, and earning a nod, no more words were left to be exchanged.

Billy’s hands made their way back to her knees, and she tried to watch as the moments started to unfold, but her vision was cut off by the boy to her left, taking her gently by the chin and doing just as Billy had said.

The weight of her own head had quickly become too heavy for her neck to hold, and she slowly lowered herself down until her head met the pillow, not once parting her and Steve’s connection at the lips. She was truly sinking—melting, just as Steve had been just seconds before. She was feeling every feeling she had witnessed, feeling the drug of Steve’s kiss begin to take effect, washing her cares away, and allowing her to succumb to the moment.

The moment—Billy’s hands running up her inner thighs and up onto her hips, feeling his hands form a ‘V’ at the thumbs, framing her like a photo.

He was slow with her, just like Steve had been with him. Perhaps that was where he learned it from, absorbing it all like a sponge. She was given every chance to stop his next move. She didn’t.

She held her breath as Billy’s fingers grazed the skin below her navel. She had become hyper aware in that moment of just how desperately she needed to be touched. She pulled back from Steve, resting her forehead against his in a moment of weakness. The contact at least gave her back her ability to breathe, the heat of her breath falling right into Steve’s open mouth.

Steve’s hands started to move, no longer pressed into the mattress in an attempt to keep his posture. They were snaking around to the small of her back, below the fabric of her shirt, skin against skin. His hand moved up her back along with the hem of her shirt, slowly rising to expose her whole stomach. The chill of the open air against previously covered skin caused her to shiver.

Steve took that as an opportunity to swallow her hot breath, kissing her while continuing to inch his hand up her back until he finally found what he was looking for—the clasp of her bra. It was something he’d always been so boisterous about—his ability to unclasp a bra with only one hand. To her and every other girl, it wasn’t that much of a talent, but she couldn’t say she minded that he was always so smooth with it.

Though, it was hard for her to focus on any of that when Billy was slowly unbuttoning and unzipping her, revealing her, exposing the one part of her that was just aching to be touched. The barrier slowly—teasingly—being removed just made that area even more desperate for stimulation.

Her focus on one single thing started to wane as both Steve and Billy’s hands started to do different but equal things to her on opposite sides of her body. Steve’s hands slithered to her front, stopping to rest just below the now loose underwire. She knew her chest was rising visibly, and she knew that Steve could feel it. Maybe that was why he let his hand sit there unmoving.

Though, there was no way Steve could’ve been sure that he was the one responsible for her heavy breathing, because Nancy wasn’t even too sure herself, not with Billy below her waist with a rogue finger sliding below the line of her underwear, not quite touching her yet, but definitely too close for comfort.

Just the thought alone of how close caused something inside of her to escape. Something that she knew would have been better kept hidden, at least for her own pride’s sake. The sound escaped past her lips, and despite them being smothered by Steve’s, there was no doubt the sound was heard.

She could barely hear a thing, it was like her ears were clogged shut, cause the laugh that escaped Billy’s mouth was muffled. But, she didn’t have to hear him laugh to know that he had heard her, because that rogue finger sliding around started to move closer…and closer…and…

Stars.

She squeezed her eyes shut so tight that she really was seeing stars, and just as she was beginning to feel a little less like she was falling from the sky, Steve had to keep on moving that damn hand of his, up…and up…and up…

“Mmm-Fuck.”

If she hadn’t lost all sensation in her arms, she would’ve slapped a hand right over her mouth. She just kept her eyes shut, because even if logically she knew neither of them were laughing at her, she simply couldn’t bear to look.

She just closed her eyes, kept them closed, and reminded herself of everything that preceded her lying on that bed with not one, but two other men…boys?? Whatever. She kept letting herself forget that little mantra—pretend like nobody’s watching. She just wished they would tell her…though, she guessed she shouldn’t complain considering the feeling she was trying to hide, that good—amazing—feeling…well, she was just going to have to let them continue to work their magic.

Even with her eyes sealed shut, she could see every move they made like a movie playing on the inside of her eyelids. Every physical sensation was so visual. The cool air meeting her once covered hips following the friction of denim dragging against sweaty skin, the weight of Steve’s hand over her breast, his palm warm, and his tongue licking into her mouth, slow and savoring—she could see it all. It was like it wasn’t her. It was like she was watching someone else be stripped down and felt up.

Though, the only thing she cared about was the fact that it was working. She was relaxed, and it felt good.

Really good.

Before she knew it, her jeans were being pulled over her ankles, and she couldn’t even care about how exposed she was, wearing nothing but a hiked up shirt and lacey panties. All she could care about was how close she was from going from feeling really good to insanely good.

Finally regaining strength in her arms, she reached up and pulled Steve in closer, deepening the kiss. She wasn’t afraid when he was close. She was starting to realize she had nothing to fear about Billy either. In some weird and twisted way, his presence was a comfort too.

It was very possible it was only the lust talking, but she didn’t have the time or the care to dissect any of that.

Her near-limp body rolled as Billy inched his way back up the bed, his weight creating dips in the mattress that she fell into. Billy’s breath was hot against her stomach, and she knew what that meant. Not just that Billy’s face was there—the temperature giving her something very vivid to cast in the blank space created from her still closed eyes—but…his face was there. It was close. Everything she wanted was right there.

All she could hear were the echoes of past gossip about Billy Hargrove that she never managed to tune out, no matter how hard she tried.

“So…is Billy a good kisser?”

The group of girls in the back of the lunchroom sat huddled, as if that had given them any semblance of privacy. The reality was that their giggles could be heard throughout the whole cafeteria. Nancy walked by the group with her lunch tray, annoyed by their loud whispering.

She couldn’t understand how Hargrove had gotten all the other girls to swoon over him, and she was tired of hearing about it. He’d barely been in town for a week.

Though, she couldn’t help herself but listen in. She didn’t want to hear about Billy’s sexcapades with the entire Hawkins High female population, necessarily. But at the same time, she liked to have all the info, and for some reason she needed to add whether or not Billy Hargrove was a good kisser into his file she had stored in her brain.

Out of the corner of her eye Nancy could see that the girl who had been posed the question was blushing red and laughing nervously. She had her head bowed slightly and didn’t meet eyes with any of her friends sharing a table with her.

“You could say that.” she said.

Nancy nearly stopped dead in her tracks. The tone of that girl's voice said a lot more than what she was telling anyone with her words. If that hadn’t been obvious enough, the gasp let out by another girl at the table sealed the deal.

“Are you saying???!!”

“He DIDN’T!!”

“OH MY GOD!!”

Fortunately for Nancy she’d reached her table by that point, so nobody had to witness what would’ve happened had she not had a steady surface to rest against has her knees buckled.

She was pulled out of her thoughts from the sensation of her body growing colder, caused by more absent clothing. She felt the cool air hit her chest first, as Steve began lifting her shirt up until the bottom hem had reached her neck. It was then that they parted once more, but only for as long as it took to get her shirt over her head and take her bra the rest of the way off.

She had been so preoccupied with that, and working through the straight jacket her tight fitting top had created for her, that she only noticed the breeze on her lower half when her panties were already halfway down to her knees.

The only way she could describe the situation was that it felt heavy. Like she had been pinned by a barbell loaded with too much weight.

Then Steve put his lips back on her and she felt just a little bit lighter, her back arching a little bit more on the bed, and it quickly started to make some sense. Though, it wasn’t something she could quite put into words.

Steve sucked the weight from her. That was the best she could do. She watched as her vision fully faded despite her eyes being wide open. Aside from that, every sensation was heightened tenfold. She could feel the hairs on her arms stand up like evergreens, she could hear the quietest sound from Steve’s swallow to Billy’s lips smacking.

She could feel Billy’s every exhale brush her skin. His nose wasn’t touching her, but it might as well have been because she swore she could feel it.

Which meant she was not at all prepared for what it would be like to actually feel it.

It was the build up, the anticipation, the vivid thought and imagination about what it would be like. It was something she never really allowed herself to want or crave and it was in her hands.

For a while, it all seemed to wrong. It seemed wrong to want something like that. It seemed wrong to want something like that while simultaneously having a boyfriend. Every step they had taken since Steve admitted to her what he and Billy had done in the boys bathroom at school had felt like a step in the wrong direction. It wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. Everyone would say that.

But Nancy knew. She knew this was right.

She was ready to narrate the whole thing like the moon landing, countdown and dramatic effect, but before she could even start counting…

Touchdown.

The first thing she felt was nothing at all, but everything at the same time. It was so intense that it was like her nerves shut down for a few moments, like someone going into shock. The world seemed to slow to a stop. Steve’s lips on her neck felt like they were barely moving, and Billy…

Before she could even process what was going on in that region, the world picked up the pace, and everything was back to regular speed…which, after spending an eternity in slow-motion, felt entirely too fast.

She could gather two things about what Billy was doing to her. The specific actions were lost, but what she did know was that A. it felt amazing, and B. he clearly knew what he was doing. What started out as intense pressure grew into something more, leading her to fall even deeper into the absolute mess she was before. Her toes curled so tight they started to cramp. Her hands gripping tightly where they’d found themselves buried into Steve’s hair like she was holding on for dear life.

Steve didn’t react much at all to his own hair being ripped from his scalp, making no effort to move himself away from where he laid with his face buried in the crook of her neck.

She wondered if he really knew what Billy was doing to her two feet away from him. His lips hadn’t once left their place against her skin, not enough for his eyes to catch a glimpse of what she could only imagine to be an intensely pornographic display. Nothing but Billy’s stray blonde curls peeking out between her spread legs. Framing him perfectly. Like an art piece. She’d be staring if she could only lift her head up.

How could Steve not want to look?

Why did she want him to?

Maybe it was just her dying to live vicariously through him. Maybe it was because at least she could see the look on his face. Maybe it was because at least someone would get to see.

Holy Hell, she was really letting herself get swept away by the Billy Hargrove effect.

Somehow that was the most embarrassing thing of all.

Nonetheless, despite being overtaken by everything else happening upon the weight of so many thoughts screaming through her head, she mustered up the energy to strip Steve away from her collarbone. Rolling her head towards him and pushing him out of the way. A free hand reaching up and lifting him up just a couple inches towards the sky. Enough to shock him into taking his first deep breath in what to her had felt like forever.

She finally opened her eyes, and they had been squeezed shut so tightly for so long that it took a little more than a few seconds to adjust and make out Steve’s face. When she finally could, he was still staring down at her. But the look in his eyes wasn’t one of focus. His eyes weren’t stuck on her like glue like the boys in the movies watching the girl of their dreams walk past them, unable to look away. His eyes were focused, like he was straining to keep them turned her way. It wasn’t like the rest of the world had disappeared, like Billy wasn’t there. She could see that he knew, that he felt like he couldn’t allow himself to look.

She knew because she knew the feeling. Afraid to look. Afraid to let herself have that. Afraid of what people might think if they knew.

Fuck that.

With those same two fingers that still grazed Steve’s chin, she gave him the push that she had given herself. The shove over the cliff, trusting the water to break your fall. Trusting that everything would be fine in the end, and you’d be glad that you did it.

He didn’t fight the nudge, like he was waiting for her to give him that. Permission. She had already given him that, but she recognized that the doubt wasn’t just going to go away with a magic word.

It was wrong. That was how they had all been raised. They weren’t supposed to want this, and if they found themselves with the temptation, they were supposed to push it down. Out of sight. Never indulge.

If she could find the words, she’d remind him that they were well past that.

But the nudge was enough. She was no longer the focus of Steve’s attention. Billy was. She felt him against her hip. He was hard…again. It was impossible to miss with Steve instinctively using the side of her body for friction.

And Nancy had the perfect view as Steve’s pupils were blown wide. The perfect view of his mouth dropping open, drool pooling at his lower lip, the breath being sucked out of him, along with the word that seemed to be on everybody’s tongue.

“Fuck.”

That did it. That had done it. It was like her lungs suddenly stopped taking in air and the floaty, out-of-body fantasyland she was just living in disappeared at the seams.

It was back to high-speed, feeling every sensation, everywhere, so overwhelming, so right. She was watching it all unfold right inside Steve’s eyes. For a second she could actually see a birds eye view of the whole scene. She could see everything Steve was seeing. She could see Billy buried between her thighs, refusing to come up for air—she’d overheard somewhere that he was a swimmer, figures—using every trick in the book, everything he had at his disposal. It was everything. God it was everything.

It was happening. She knew that and Steve must’ve noticed something too seeing as how the hand of his that had still been on her breast had flinched, like he was trying to reach for something else…someone else.

Nancy stopped him in his tracks, though. Slamming her hand right on top of his because it was happening. She looked at him desperately, her chest rising up and down erratically. Steve glanced her way for just a second long enough to see, looking away from Billy, which she could only assume felt impossible, judging by the look of absolute desire written all over his face.

Then he did even more of the impossible. He took one last glance over at Billy, his breathing stopping completely, biting his lips, his eyes glossed over because he didn’t dare blink. He was savoring the moment, she figured out, because the next thing she knew Steve was no longer looking at Billy, nor was he looking at her. The world went dark as Steve’s frame eclipsed her view completely, sinking down into her lips. His hands remained where she kept them, starting to move once more, no longer stunned frozen by southern beauty.

And Billy, she hadn’t forgotten about him. No amount of mind wandering and Steve existing was taking her attention away from down below. Her toes were curling more than what she believed to be physically possible. The hand still on top of Steve’s was gripping him like a life preserver, sure enough to leave a bruise or two. Both of them with their mouths on her…it was entirely and blissfully suffocating.

She was fully engulfed, she couldn’t get any breath in or out and yet there was still enough open space for the noises to escape past her lips. A whimper followed by a moan that caused Steve to let up just enough to crack a smile. Billy didn’t let it affect him though, he didn’t stop, he kept going, taking everything with him to the finish line.

It was right there. She could taste it.

Right…

There.

All at once her heels slid down the mattress until her legs were perfectly straight and her toes were pointed like a ballerina, her grip on Steve tensed even harder, so hard she was sure she heard him whimper out in pain, her back arched so high that she wasn’t so sure she wasn’t being pulled to the ceiling by some invisible string.

All of that happened as quick as it disappeared, her legs went numb, her hand went limp, she sunk back down into the mattress and it felt like she was falling, as if the mattress was no longer there to stop her descent.

The world had gone dark. Like everything stopped existing. Something hot rushed up her body and pooled in her ears. When the heat went away, she started to shake like she was cold.

Slowly, one by one she regained each of her senses. The first to return was sound, but all she could hear was heavy breathing. She couldn’t distinguish which breath belonged to who, but she was able to determine all three of them were contributing.

Soon her sight followed, the room fading into picture, the dark room suddenly feeling so very bright. All she could see was the ceiling—Steve’s lips were no longer on her. That was when the numbness turned to tingling, and the tingling turned to feeling.

The first thing she felt was Steve’s hand still on her chest, with her hand still on top of it, still holding him in place. Quickly she realized that Steve’s hand was the only thing touching her. Steve’s hand was the only thing in direct contact with her aside from the bed underneath her. Still she knew Steve was still there, even though she couldn’t move enough to turn her head to look at him. She knew Billy hadn’t moved either. He wasn’t touching her, but she could feel his warm breath against her right thigh. She pictured him laying there, his energy spent, still just trying to catch his breath right along with the rest of them.

She felt something else on her thigh. Her other thigh. On the outside. A breeze swept through the room, the air hitting that specific spot quite differently from the rest of her body where sweat was cooling all over.

Context clues gave it away. She was sure she wasn’t the only one to finish. Steve’s heavy breathing and attempts at staying outside her view was enough to figure that out.

He was embarrassed, which was exhausting to realize. She figured they’d already jumped over all of the hurdles earlier.

Still, she had sympathy for him, and she knew better not to say anything about it. That part was for them. Just them. It could wait.

Instead, she finally forced her body to find the ability to move, and with that she also regained her ability to speak.

“Come here,” she said, turning her head, no longer allowing Steve to hide. With the hand that still held Steve’s she interlaced their fingers and initiated a tug. “Kiss me.”

Steve was slow, but not hesitant. The kiss was soft, gentle, and mostly cheste save for the slightest bit of tongue sneaking through before he pulled away. It reminded her a lot of his and Billy’s first—well…the first one that she had seen anyway.

Soon following there was a creak in the mattress by her legs. She lifted her head to see Billy standing to his feet.

She hadn’t forgotten he was there. Though, he had been so quiet for a moment there that she could see how someone else might have.

Billy paused, looking down at her and Steve, having naturally fallen into each other, almost entangled. It was like he was waiting for something to happen.

Before Nancy could even begin to try and piece together what could’ve been going through Billy’s head, the pause was over, and what followed was unexpected, but in hindsight really shouldn’t have been.

He started gathering up his clothes from the floor, quickly, like he was in a hurry. He wasn’t looking at them anymore, like they ceased from existence. But Billy’s demeanor—hiding his naked body with each stray article of clothing—said the opposite.

Steve seemed to have been paying just as much attention to Billy as she had, or even more. He sat up almost completely, letting go of Nancy’s hand in the process, leaving her completely untouched this time.

Billy didn’t notice, or at least he didn’t show it. He just kept moving, sliding into his boxers with his back facing them. When he started slipping one leg into his jeans, Steve lurched forward.

“Are you leaving?” He asked, and Nancy could only describe his voice as disappointment.

Billy stopped at that, and chanced a look back at that, turning only his head and keeping his back turned to them. Nancy had finally figured out how to read the unreadable. He was confused, and dare she assume, sad.

“I figured you two would want your privacy,” he said it so bluntly, and that all but confirmed what she was thinking.

What followed was another lull. Nobody could move. Nobody seemed to know what the right move was supposed to be.

Until Billy had decided the right move was to keep getting himself dressed, which she recognized to be the wrong move when Steve lurched forward, grabbing Billy by the wrist and stopping him, right then and there.

She expected Steve to say something, but the room remained silent. Another pause. Another goddamn suffocating pause.

Before she had time to process anything, Steve turned around, not letting up his grip on Billy’s wrist, and looked at her.

He didn’t say it. He couldn’t. She knew what he was asking. He didn’t have to. The look in his eyes told her more than enough. She could see the desperation, the longing, the embarrassment, the pleading, the need.

She didn’t have to say it either. She just smiled back at him.

Steve quickly turned back to Billy.

“You don’t have to leave,” Steve said.

Billy attempted to pull away from him, but not hard enough. Nancy knew he could if he wanted to. It didn’t take a genius to tell that Billy was just as strong if not stronger than Steve. He wasn’t putting up much of a fight. Billy wanted to stay. Everyone knew it.

Steve pulled against his wrist, not hard, but quick enough that it caught Billy off guard, enough to cause him to stumble. Enough for him to nearly fall into Steve’s lap.

He didn’t try moving away after that.

Steve cautiously brought his free hand up to Billy’s cheek, gliding the knuckle of his index down to his chin. There was no pulling, Billy just seemed to know to follow the direction of Steve’s finger. Down, closer, closer…

They didn’t kiss, but they were certainly as close as possible to each other as they could have been. It was like they were waiting for gravity to do the rest.

“Stay,” she heard Steve whisper, and it caused a chill to run down her spine, and she wasn’t even the one he was saying it to.

Gravity seemed to finally take over, because next thing she knew Billy was sinking. She decided to look away that time. She decided that this one was allowed to be just for them.

“Stay.” She heard him say it again, and at that she looked back at them.

Billy was looking at her when she did.

He looked at her just like Steve, except unlike Steve, he was scared shitless.

She knew words wouldn’t be enough, and she wasn’t going to kiss him into submission like Steve was able to do. That wouldn’t work.

All she did was move over, closer to the end of her side of the bed, opening up enough space for two more bodies to lay down comfortably. That said all it needed to.

She was right.

Steve crawled back into the bed, settling down right in the middle, and much to everyone’s satisfaction, Billy followed him, kicking his jeans back off on the way down.

It took a minute for them all to get comfortable, each of them maneuvering their way underneath the covers, finding themselves each a position that was the most comfortable.

Nancy had grown cold, the covers only doing so much. She snuggled into Steve for warmth. He was lying on his back, but his head was facing the other way.

He was facing Billy, and she tried her best to be discreet as she peeked her head over Steve to see the two of them. Billy had his head on Steve’s chest, just the way she always did. Steve had his fingers running through Billy’s hair. It was always the other way around. It was always her.

She wasn’t used to that.

But she was starting to learn that she might have to get used to that.

Through all of it, Nancy somehow never once entertained the possibility that Steve’s feelings for Billy—and Billy’s feelings for Steve—went beyond something more than just sexual. It was becoming painstakingly clear that it was much, much more than either of them were letting on.

But, what was even worse was that she just might be okay with that too.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #stranger things #steve/billy/nancy #trigonometry #mandi writes tresh #fic #stancy #yes I’m alive #yes the long forever awaited final chapter is here #AND IT IS 19K!#WHAT

20 notes · View notes

bloodreinasbathwater · 5 months ago

Text

It's Always Been You

Part 5

Jack Hughes X F!Reader (Childhood Best friend)

a.n: Don't beat me up guys. I know this damn chapter took forever but fr I didn't know where to take this chapter, I was going to start with a flashback, so it wasn't boring but even that was boring. so after the long-awaited hiatus here is the next chapter!!!

Warnings: anxiety, kissing, eventual smut (part 6), arguments, unrequited love, ignore the mentions of summer I was to lazy to remove them lol.

Word Count - 4,163

Summary : When do you finally accept that it's time to move on? When do you finally admit that everything you fought so hard to forget is exactly what you're meant to remember for the rest of your life? How long can he pretend that it hasn't always been you?

Jacks masterlist

The Michigan sun streamed through the gauzy curtains of the guest room, the faint light of the morning sun illuminated her features, showcasing her furrowed brow and pensive eyes as she stirred awake.

For a blissful moment, she forgot where she was—and why her heart felt so heavy. Then reality crashed over her like a wave, and she remembered: Jack's family home, the ill-fated confession, and the potential love that she left back in Jersey.

Y/N sat up, running her fingers through her tangled hair, which was tousled from sleep. The distant laughter from downstairs was like music to her ears, a sound that she had grown to love —Jack's chuckle unmistakable even from afar. Her heart clenched. How was she supposed to act normal when every fiber of her being ached to be near him?

Her eyes darted towards her phone, resting on the soft sheets next to her. The glowing screen illuminated a new message and a missed call from Liam, causing her heart to flutter with anticipation and guilt. Ignoring it, she tossed the phone aside and decided to get up and get dressed.

She dressed slowly, each movement deliberate as she tried to delay the inevitable. The soft cotton of her favorite t-shirt offered little comfort as she pulled it over her head. It smelled faintly of home, of simpler times when loving Jack from afar seemed enough.

Hesitantly, Y/N made her way down the worn staircase, each creak of the wood echoing in her ears. Her heart raced as she prepared to face him, unsure of what the outcome would be. The aroma of coffee and bacon guided her to the kitchen, where Jack stood at the stove, spatula in hand.

"Morning, sleepyhead," he greeted, his voice carrying a hint of playful teasing. "Thought you might sleep through the whole trip," he added, his tone lighthearted yet genuine. He flashed that crooked smile that never failed to make her knees weak.

Y/N forced a laugh, hoping it sounded genuine. "And miss out on your world-famous pancakes? Never."

She slid onto a stool at the kitchen island, acutely aware of the distance between them—both physical and emotional. Jack moved around the kitchen with easy grace, and Y/N found herself tracking his every movement. The flex of his forearms as he flipped a pancake, the way his t-shirt stretched across his shoulders when he reached for a plate.

"Earth to Y/N," Jack's voice cut through her reverie. She blinked and looked up to see him staring at her with a mixture of amusement and concern, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She realized with a start that he must have asked her a question while she was lost in her own world.

"Sorry, what?" she mumbled, feeling heat rise to her cheeks.

"I asked if you wanted blueberries in your pancakes. You okay? You seem a million miles away."

If only he knew how present she was—how every cell in her body seemed attuned to his presence. "I'm fine," she lied smoothly. "Just a little tired. And yes to blueberries, please."

As Jack turned back to the stove, Y/N caught a flicker of something in his eyes. Was it longing? Regret? Or just her imagination playing cruel tricks? She pushed the thought away, focusing instead on the plate he set before her.

They ate in companionable silence, but Y/N was hyperaware of every accidental brush of their hands, every shared glance. The pancakes tasted like sawdust in her mouth as she struggled to maintain the facade of normalcy.

"So," Jack said, breaking the silence, "we were thinking of taking the boat out today. Weather's perfect for it, just a little chilly."

Y/N's stomach dropped. The thought of being trapped on a small boat with Jack, pretending everything was fine, seemed unbearable. "Oh, um, actually..." she started, scrambling for an excuse.

Jack's smile was encouraging, but Y/N could see a flicker of disappointment in his eyes at her hesitant response. Just then, Luke appeared in the doorway, hair tousled from sleep.

"Morning, everyone," he said, his smile bright as he made his way to Y/N. He dropped a kiss on her cheek, and she saw Jack's jaw tighten almost imperceptibly.

"Luke," Y/N said, an idea forming. "Jack was just telling me about going out on the boat. What do you think about staying behind with me instead? I'm not really feeling up to it, and I'd love to explore the yard a bit."

She saw a flicker of something cross Jack's face before he masked it with a nonchalant shrug. "Sure, if that's what you want. Daphne and I can take my parents out."

The mention of Daphne sent a fresh wave of pain through Y/N's chest, a sharp ache that tightened her throat. Her eyes flickered with a hint of hurt before she quickly masked it.

She forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes, which darted away to avoid revealing too much. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, nails biting into her palms. "Sounds great," she managed to say, her voice strained. "You guys have fun."

…

As they finished breakfast and plans were made for the day, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that she was standing on the edge of a precipice. Every interaction with Jack felt charged, laden with unspoken words and suppressed emotions.

She watched him as he cleaned up the kitchen, his movements efficient and familiar. How many mornings had they spent like this, comfortable in each other's presence? Now, every moment felt like a bittersweet reminder of what she couldn't have.

When Jack's hand accidentally brushed hers as he reached for her empty plate, Y/N felt a jolt of electricity run through her. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world fell away. There was something in Jack's gaze—a softness, a question—that made her breath catch.

But then Luke's arm snaked around her waist, breaking the spell. "Ready to go for that walk?" he asked, oblivious to the tension in the room.

Y/N nodded, tearing her eyes away from Jack. As she let Luke lead her outside, she couldn't help but glance back. Jack stood in the doorway, watching them go, an unreadable expression on his face.

The air was thick with the scent of pine and possibilities as Y/N stepped onto the porch. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her head of thoughts of Jack. But even as she walked away, she could feel the invisible thread that connected them, pulling taut with every step.

The afternoon sun hung high in the cloudless Michigan sky, its warmth a stark contrast to the chill that had settled in Y/N's chest. She stood on the weathered dock, watching as Jack's family bustled around, preparing for their boat outing. The gentle lapping of water against the shore provided a soothing backdrop to the chaos but did little to calm her racing thoughts.

Jack emerged from the boathouse, his chestnut hair pushed back carelessly, revealing the strong angles of his face. The pale blue shirt he wore clung to his athletic frame, bringing out the cerulean depths of his eyes - eyes that seemed to seek Y/N's gaze with an intensity that made her breath catch.

She found herself drinking in the sight of him, memorizing every detail as if it might be the last time she'd see him like this: carefree, relaxed, and heartbreakingly handsome.

As Jack approached, carrying a cooler, Y/N caught a whiff of his cologne - a woodsy scent that reminded her of countless shared adventures and unspoken longings. She fought the urge to close her eyes and lose herself in the familiar aroma.

"Sure you don't want to join us?" Jack asked, his voice low and tinged with something Y/N couldn't quite place. Was it hope? Regret?

Before she could respond, a melodious laugh cut through the air. Daphne sauntered down the dock, her presence as imposing as it was graceful.

She was the epitome of old money elegance, from her designer dress to her oversized sunglasses. Her honey-blonde hair fell in big, bouncy curls reminiscent of a 1970s fashion icon, framing a face that belonged on magazine covers.

"Oh, Jack!" Daphne called out, her voice saccharine sweet. "Don't forget the picnic basket I prepared. Remember how we used to love our little sunset dinners on the lake?"

Y/N felt her stomach twist, the image of Jack and Daphne sharing romantic moments on the boat searing itself into her mind. She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms as she fought to maintain her composure.

Jack's eyes flickered between Y/N and Daphne, a conflicted expression clouding his features. "Right," he muttered, "I'll grab it."

As he turned to head back to the house, Y/N couldn't help but notice the way his gaze lingered on her, a silent plea in his eyes that she couldn't decipher. The moment stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words and suppressed emotions.

Daphne, not oblivious to the tension, sidled up to Jack, placing a perfectly manicured hand on his arm. "We should recreate one of our romantic sunset cruises," she purred, loud enough for Y/N to hear. "For old times' sake."

The suggestion hung in the air like a challenge. Y/N felt a surge of emotions - jealousy, hurt, and an overwhelming desire to stake her claim. Before she could stop herself, words tumbled from her lips, sharp and biting.

"I'm sure Jack's made plenty of new memories since then," Y/N said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "No need to dwell on the past, right?"

The dock fell silent, the only sound the gentle creaking of the boat against its moorings. Jack's head snapped up, his eyes wide as they met Y/N's, there was surprise there.

Daphne's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, tightening her grip on Jack's arm. "Of course," she replied, her tone icy. "Though some memories are worth revisiting, wouldn't you agree, Jack?"

Jack stood frozen between the two women, the conflict evident on his face. His eyes darted between Y/N and Daphne, as if he were trying to solve an impossible equation. "I, uh..." he stammered, clearly at a loss for words.

A thick atmosphere of unease hung in the air, causing Jack's family to glance curiously at Y/N as they loaded the boat. She could feel their questioning stares, as if they could see the unspoken connection between her and Jack that she was trying to ignore. It seemed like everyone knew something that they didn't, except for the two of them.

Luke appeared at Y/N's side, sliding a lanky arm around her shoulders. "Everything okay here?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Y/N leaned into him, grateful for the support even as her heart ached for Jack. "Everything's fine," she replied, forcing a smile. "Just wishing everyone a good trip."

As the two began to board the boat, Y/N couldn't help but notice the way Jack's eyes kept finding her, even as Daphne chatted animatedly at his side. There was a longing in his gaze that mirrored the ache in her own chest, a silent communication that spoke volumes.

Daphne, sensing the shift in Jack's attention, redoubled her efforts. She laughed louder, touched him more frequently, her actions screaming of desperation and possessiveness. It was clear she felt threatened, her carefully crafted plans unraveling in the face of the unspoken connection between Jack and Y/N.

As the boat pulled away from the dock, Y/N stood with Luke and his parents, watching it disappear into the distance. The sun glinted off the water, momentarily blinding her. When she blinked away the spots in her vision, she could have sworn she saw Jack standing at the back of the boat, still looking in her direction.

"You okay?" Luke asked, giving her a gentle squeeze.

Y/N nodded, not trusting her voice. How could she explain the tumult of emotions raging inside her? The love, the longing, the frustration, and the glimmer of hope that refused to be extinguished?

she turned to walk back to the house with Luke, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted. And as much as it terrified her, a part of her welcomed it. Because pretending not to be in love with Jack was becoming harder with each passing moment.

The sun had begun its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. Y/N and Luke sat on the porch swing, the gentle creaking of its chains providing a soothing rhythm to their conversation.

Despite the picturesque setting, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in her stomach since the boat departed. Luke watched her, his brow furrowed with concern. He nudged her gently with his elbow. "Hey, space cadet. Where'd you go?"

Y/N blinked, forcing a smile. "Sorry, just... thinking."

"About Jack?" Luke asked, his tone free of judgment.

She sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder. This was what she loved about Luke - his ability to read her, to understand without pushing. "Am I that obvious?"

Luke chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Only to someone who knows you as well as I do, sis."

The term of endearment brought a genuine smile to Y/N's face. Though they'd been dating for a short while, their relationship had always felt more familial than romantic. Luke was the brother she never had, a safe harbor in the storm of her feelings for Jack.

"Want to talk about it?" Luke offered, his arm coming around her shoulders in a comforting squeeze.

Y/N shook her head. "Not really. Distract me instead?"

Luke was quiet for a moment, then sat up straighter, causing Y/N to lift her head from his shoulder. "Actually," he said, a hint of excitement creeping into his voice, "I've got some news that might do the trick."

Y/N turned to face him, curiosity piqued by the gleam in his eye. "Oh yeah? What's up?"

Luke took a deep breath, barely containing his grin. "So, you know how I've been waiting to hear back about the draft?"

Y/N nodded, her heart beginning to race with anticipation. "Did you...?"

"I got drafted!" Luke exclaimed, his face breaking into a wide smile. "I'm moving to Jersey after the summer. I'll be playing for the same team!"

For a moment, Y/N sat in stunned silence, processing the information. Then, as the reality of Luke's words sank in, her eyes widened. "Are you serious?" she asked, her voice rising with excitement.

Luke nodded, his grin growing impossibly wider. "Dead serious. Got the call yesterday, but I wanted to tell you in person."

"Oh my god, Luke!" Y/N squealed, launching herself into his arms. The porch swing swayed dangerously with their movement, but neither of them cared. "I can't believe it! This is amazing!"

Luke laughed, wrapping his arms around her in a bear hug. "Believe it, sis. Your boy's going pro!"

Y/N pulled back, holding Luke at arm's length to look at him properly. His face was alight with joy, and she felt a surge of pride and affection for him. "I'm so proud of you," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "You've worked so hard for this."

Luke's expression softened, and he tucked a strand of hair behind Y/N's ear in a brotherly gesture. "Couldn't have done it without my number one cheerleader," he said with a wink.

Y/N punched his arm playfully. "Oh please, as if you need any more ego boosting."

They fell into comfortable laughter, the kind that comes from years of shared jokes and mutual understanding. As their mirth subsided, Y/N found herself marveling at the easy camaraderie between them. Luke had been her rock, her confidant, through all the ups and downs of her unrequited love for Jack. And now, he was embarking on this new adventure.

"So, Jersey huh?" Y/N mused, settling back into the swing. "That's not too far. I expect free tickets to all the games."

Luke grinned, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "You got it. VIP treatment for my favorite girl."

Y/N leaned into him, feeling a mix of excitement for Luke and a twinge of sadness at the thought of leaving him behind for the next couple months. "I'm going to miss you, how am I supposed to deal with Jack all alone until fall?" she admitted softly.

Luke squeezed her shoulder. "Hey, none of that. Summers gonna pass in the blink of an eye. Plus, think of all the headaches I’m gonna cause when I move in."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but couldn't suppress her smile. "Always looking out for me, aren't you?"

"Someone's got to," Luke replied, his tone light but carrying an undercurrent of sincerity. "Especially with all this Jack drama."

Y/N tensed slightly at the mention of Jack, but Luke quickly steered the conversation back to his draft news, regaling her with details of the call and his future teammates. As they talked and laughed, the sun dipping lower on the horizon, Y/N felt some of the day's tension melt away.

…

The boat glided smoothly across the lake's surface, leaving a trail of ripples in its wake. Jack sat at the stern, his eyes fixed on the shrinking shoreline where he'd last seen Y/N. The fading sunlight caught the pale blue of his shirt, making his eyes appear even more vivid than usual.

Daphne sauntered over, her hips swaying with exaggerated grace. She held two glasses of champagne, bubbles fizzing merrily against the crystal. "Here you go, Jackie," she cooed, using the pet name that had once made his heart race but now only made him cringe inwardly.

"Thanks," Jack mumbled, accepting the glass without enthusiasm.

Undeterred by his lackluster response, Daphne settled herself next to him, pressing her leg against his in a way that was clearly meant to be alluring. "Remember our first boat trip together?" she asked, her voice dripping with nostalgia. "We watched the sunset right here."

Jack shifted uncomfortably, trying to put some distance between them without being overtly rude. "Yeah, I remember," he said noncommittally.

Daphne leaned in closer, the overpowering scent of her perfume suffocating him with its sickly sweetness. "We could recreate it, you know," she whispered, her breath hot against his ear. "For old times' sake."

Jack felt a twinge of something - nostalgia, perhaps, or the ghost of old feelings - and for a moment, he almost considered it. Daphne was familiar, safe in a way. She represented a simpler time, before these confusing feelings for Y/N had taken root.

But as he turned to respond, his eyes caught sight of the house in the distance. Even from here, he could make out two figures on the porch - Y/N and Luke, their heads close together in conversation. The sight sent a jolt through him, clearing away any lingering thoughts of rekindling things with Daphne.

Jack shook his head, gently but firmly removing Daphne's hand from his arm. "I'm sorry, Daph," he said, his voice soft but resolute. "But that's not going to happen again."

Daphne's perfectly plucked eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "But why not? We were so good together, Jackie. We could be again."

Jack took a deep breath, surprised by the relief he felt at finally voicing what he'd been feeling. "Because... I think I have feelings for Y/N."

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with implication. Jack himself seemed surprised by his admission, as if hearing it out loud had solidified something he'd only half-acknowledged to himself.

"Feelings I don't quite understand yet," he continued, more to himself than to Daphne. "But they're there, and they're real."

Daphne's expression cycled rapidly through surprise, hurt, and finally settled on a mix of resignation and irritation. She plopped down next to him with a dramatic sigh, all pretense of seduction gone. "God, Jack," she said, rolling her eyes. "I could have told you that."

Jack blinked, startled. "What? How?"

Daphne took a long sip of her champagne before answering. "The night I came to see you after your game? The way you talked about her, the look in your eyes... It was obvious to anyone paying attention."

Jack sat in stunned silence, processing this revelation. Had his feelings been that transparent? And if so, how had he missed them for so long?

As the boat continued its lazy path across the lake, Jack found his gaze drawn once again to the distant shore, to the house where Y/N waited. For the first time, he allowed himself to fully acknowledge the depth of his feelings for her, and the enormity of what that might mean.

…

Dark clouds rolled in from the horizon, their ominous rumble a stark contrast to the earlier calm. Jack guided the boat back to the dock, his knuckles white on the wheel as he fought against the choppy waters. The first drops of rain began to fall, creating tiny ripples across the lake's surface.

As they approached the dock, a crack of thunder split the air. Jack quickly secured the boat, then extended a hand to help Daphne disembark. She took it without a word, her earlier flirtatiousness replaced by a cold silence. As soon as her feet touched the wooden planks, she brushed past Jack, heading towards the house without a backward glance.

Jack stood for a moment, letting the light drizzle soak through his pale blue shirt. His eyes scanned the porch, searching for Y/N, but she was nowhere to be seen. A memory flickered in his mind - of a young Y/N, hair in pigtails, running to hide in the garden whenever she was upset.

Following an instinct he didn't quite understand, Jack made his way towards the old garden. The rain was falling harder now, plastering his hair to his forehead and blurring his vision. But he pressed on, drawn by an invisible thread.

As he rounded the corner, he saw her. Y/N stood by the fishpond, her back to him, seemingly oblivious to the rain soaking through her clothes. The sight of her, vulnerable and alone, made Jack's heart clench.

"Y/N?" he called out softly, not wanting to startle her.

She turned slowly, her eyes widening as she saw him. "Jack? What are you doing here?"

He took a step closer, raindrops clinging to his eyelashes. "I was looking for you. I thought... I thought we could talk."

Y/N shook her head, a pained expression crossing her face. "I can't, Jack. I can't do this anymore."

"Do what?" he asked, confusion evident in his voice.

"This!" she exclaimed, gesturing between them. "Pretending everything's normal when it's not. I can't be around you and act like my heart isn't breaking every single time."

Jack felt as if the ground had shifted beneath his feet. "Y/N, I-"

But she cut him off, words pouring out of her like a dam bursting. "How long, Jack? How long can you pretend that it hasn't always been me? By your side, helping you through everything, loving you for who you are?"

The rain fell harder, mirroring the intensity of Y/N's emotions. Jack stood frozen, the weight of her words washing over him.

"I've been there through everything," Y/N continued, her voice cracking. "Your first game, your injuries, your breakups. I've loved you through it all, Jack. And I can't pretend anymore that it doesn't kill me to see you with someone else, to know that you don't feel the same way."

Thunder rumbled overhead, punctuating her words. Jack took a step forward, reaching out to her. "Y/N, please-"

But before he could finish, a brilliant flash of lightning illuminated the garden, followed immediately by a deafening crack of thunder. Y/N jumped, instinctively moving closer to Jack. For a moment, they stood there, inches apart, rain streaming down their faces. Jack could see the pain in Y/N's eyes, the vulnerability, and something in him finally clicked into place.

"You're right," he said softly, his voice barely audible over the storm.

Y/N blinked, confusion replacing the hurt in her eyes. "What?"

Jack reached out, gently cupping her face in his hands. "You're right. It's always been you, Y/N. I've just been too blind to see it."

The world seemed to hold its breath as they stood there, the rain falling around them, the air electric with more than just the storm. Jack leaned in, his intention clear, but before their lips could meet, a voice called out from the house.

"Y/N? Jack? Where are you guys? It's pouring out here!"

The spell broken, Y/N and Jack stepped apart, both breathing heavily. They stared at each other, a thousand unspoken words passing between them.

"We should go in," Y/N said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. Jack nodded, unable to trust his voice. As they walked back to the house, side by side but not touching, the air between them crackled with possibility and unresolved tension.

...

Tag List <3

message me to be added!

@favsrachz @jacktoria4ever @bunbunbl0gs @ivy-34 @rebelatbay @bxtchopolis, @dasiysthings, @lazysportsfanfornhl, @uhhhidk9, @ru-kru @quinnylouhughesx43

221 notes · View notes

madaqueue · 8 months ago

Text

Practice Makes Perfect | Chapter 13

synopsis: you and yuji have been best friends basically as long as you can remember, and you made a promise to each other to stay friends and help each other be the best versions of yourselves for your future partners. but will things change when yuji finally starts looking for a relationship?

pairing: yuji itadori (18+) x f!reader

themes/content: modern college au (characters aged up to 18+). language, smut. kissing, hair pulling, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), sex. 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.3k

a/n: the finale!!! it's been real you guys :') hope you enjoy <3

previous chapter | series masterlist

Yuji leans over you, pink hair tickling the top of your forehead as he brings his lips to brush against yours, his breath hot against your skin as he awaits your answer.

You swallow, trying to figure out what to say, but before your mouth can move, you feel heat building between your legs. He tilts his head to the side, grin transforming into a smirk. “What, can’t get your thoughts out, pretty? C’mon, you know how much I love when you use your words,” he teases.

He’s so close to you now, his padded fingertips tracing your skin, the feeling making you nervous for some reason as a mix of sweet butterflies and sinful desire grows inside of you. “Y-yes,” you stutter out.

“Yes what?” he whispers against your mouth.

“Fuck me,” you breathe.

You feel his lips pull wider into a full smile before they press into yours. He moves his teeth around your bottom lip and gently bites as you sigh into his mouth. His tongue moves past your lips and glides over yours. The hand that was drawing circles along your hip moves down to the waistband of your pajama shorts. Your hands move down to tug them off, tossing them across the room.

Yuji lets out a quiet laugh against your lips at the movement, loving how well you anticipate his thoughts without having to even say anything. Moving his fingers lower, he traces over your clothed cunt, feeling the wet spot in your panties that slowly formed beginning the first moment he placed his hands on your skin.

“Wow, s’wet for me already, sweets?” he teases between kisses.

“You wanna play that game?” you taunt. Without separating your lips from his, you reach a hand down his torso, over the waistband of his sweats, and down until you feel the bulge straining against his pants. His cock twitches as your fingers caress over it through the soft cloth, causing Yuji to whine into your mouth.

“That’s what I thought,” you chuckle against him.

Suddenly he shifts so he’s fully on top of you. He pulls away from your lips and you open your eyes, only to be met with his half-lidded brown ones above yours. Now between your legs, he slowly thrusts his hips up so his cock drags against your pussy. The sensation makes your eyes flutter closed and back arch, even through two layers of fabric. A soft, “F-fuck,” leaves your lips as you try to grind your hips back against him, desperate for more.

He moves so his mouth settles into that spot between your jawline and ear, the one he knows you love, as he whispers, “Not so cocky now, are we?” He tries to hide how his voice shakes, the sensation of you moving against him threatening to send him over the edge before he has even begun.

Briefly pulling your skin between his teeth, he sucks just enough to leave a pretty bruise on your neck. Letting everyone know you’re his. The thought alone makes his cock twitch and he moans, bucking his hips up against you.

The realization sets in that if he keeps moving like this, he’ll finish before he’s able to do anything for you. Pulling away from your neck he shifts his eyes to your face. Your eyes blink open to look at him, your cheeks flushed as you bring one hand up to rest in his hair. The feeling makes him melt into your touch, but he knows he can’t stay here forever. His eyes trace down your body, landing on the soaked panties still covering your sex. He bites his lower lip as his gaze moves back up to meet yours and you nod, knowing what he is asking.

His eyes light up at the shared understanding and he repositions himself with his head between your thighs. He slides your panties down your legs before returning his sights to the beauty before him. Your bare cunt, glistening with how wet you are, your perfect folds and-

“Yuji,” you whisper, pulling him out of his thoughts.

His eyes flit up to yours and he grins before diving into your pussy. He laps up your essence, moaning softly into your wet skin. “S’sweet, s’good,” he murmurs to himself, tongue tracing up and down you.

He brings one hand off the bed, slowly applying pressure to your entrance before sliding it in. You let yourself moan, knowing he likes it, as your back arches slightly off the bed. Another finger goes into you as he begins curling them toward your sweet spot. Flicking his tongue over your clit, he latches his lips around you and gently sucks at the sensitive bud.

Tension builds in your stomach as you feel yourself getting close, the rhythmic pulsing of his fingers inside you combined with the roughness of his tongue becoming too much for you to bear. Your grip on his hair tightens, eyes closing.

“Yuji, I’m gonna-” The words cut off as he suddenly brings you to your first orgasm. Your thighs try to close around him but his hands hold your shaking legs apart. You feel yourself clenching around his fingers as you ride the blissful high.

As you return to your senses, there is only one thought in your mind: you need more.

Yuji sits back at the end of the bed, grinning at you with pride. As you open your eyes, you feel the deep desire, the need, within you growing. You lean up on your forearms to steady yourself before slowly crawling forward towards him, eyes locked on his lips.

“That was pretty damn good, don’t ya think?” he says, almost laughing before his eyes suddenly meet yours. Your wide pupils, flushed cheeks, and slow breathing make him gulp. He has no idea what he’s in for.

“Off,” you state, glancing down at his sweatpants, now adorned with a slight damp spot from his precum. He takes in a breath at your sudden forcefulness before immediately ripping them off and throwing them across the room, allowing his cock to stand fully erect.

You place a hand on his chest and gently push him down against the bed before shifting your weight back so your face is aligned between his legs. The sight of his dick makes your mouth water - the slight flush of his tip, the drops of precum glistening, the veins that cover his length - it’s all so perfect. Looking up at him, you slowly open your mouth and stick out your tongue, allowing the saliva that had been building in your mouth to slowly drip down. It hits Yuji’s tip as he hisses from the sensation, closing his eyes momentarily.

Lowering your head down slightly, he once again reaches his hands up to gather your hair and hold it above your head. You smirk - you even remembered a hair tie today, but you say nothing. Tongue still out, lips parted, your mouth finally reaches his cock. You swirl around his tip for a moment before closing your eyes and taking his entire length down your throat at once. The sudden feeling of your warmth around him makes him moan, forcing his hips up off the bed involuntarily. Your eyes water at the additional pressure, but you know you can take it.

Pulling back slightly, you take another breath in before plunging your head back down. Yuji seems to control himself better this time, but you can still feel his cock beginning to twitch against your tongue as you move up and down him.

“H-hey,” he whispers softly. You hear him, but you can’t stop, addicted to the feeling of him knocking against the back of your throat. Suddenly, you feel a tension at the back of your head as Yuji pulls your hair, yanking you off his dick with a pop from the suction you had created. You whine at the mixture of no longer having him inside your mouth and at the rough sensation of him pulling you. He holds you so you can look him in the eyes and he takes in the sight of you: pupils unfocused, mouth hanging open in a loose smile, with a mix of drool and precum slipping out the corners of your lips. The sight makes him somehow impossibly harder. “I-I’m gonna cum if you keep doin’ that, sweets,” he murmurs.

You pout in response, knowing you would struggle to form words at this point. He chuckles at your reaction. “I know, I know, but remember, there’s something we’ve gotta do first,” he says, leaning back over you, a smirk forming on his lips. “I still want to fuck you.”

His hands release your hair and instead move to take your top off, lifting it over your shoulders with ease. He then places his palms against your ribcage and gently pushes you onto your back as he moves himself on top of you. One hand steadies himself on the bed while the other reaches down to his base, aligning himself with your entrance.

“You lemme know f’I’m goin’ to fast or too slow, okay?” his words starting to slur together from desire. All you can do is nod eagerly as you look up at him. You sense his need, too, through his half-lidded eyes that refuse to look away from your lips.

He presses into you slowly, stretching your walls around him as his tip enters you. He groans from the sensation. “Fuck, s’wet, s’warm,” he breathes.

Pausing for a moment to ensure that you’re okay, he glances down at you as your cunt clenches around him, demanding more.

“Please Yuji,” you whisper, “please.” The two words were the only ones echoing in your mind, the only thing you can think of is your need for him.

Continuing again, he slowly moves further into you. The feeling of him stretching you, expanding to fit him perfectly, nearly brings him to the edge. But for you, it’s not enough. You arch your back as you move your hips up, trying to fill yourself with him. Yuji falls forward at the sudden warmth along his length, catching himself with his forehead against your shoulder. With one final movement of his hips, he bottoms out. The feeling of him fully inside you, fully yours, is almost too much for the poor boy as he rests against you, shaking, trying not to finish from his first thrust.

“Yuji?” you whimper.

“Mhm?” he hums against you, still not able to lift his head from your shoulder as he attempts to steady his breathing.

“Faster, please?”

He grits his teeth at your pleas. He can do this; he has to do this, for you.

Moving his hips back he drags himself out of you, eliciting a moan as you tilt your head back into the pillows beneath you.

Suddenly, his hips lurch against you, his pelvis hitting the skin between your legs as he thrusts his full length into you. A soft scream leaves your throat as you move your legs off the bed to wrap around the back of his torso, his back warm against your calves.

Your eyes blink open for only a moment before you feel his lips crash into yours, his mouth open immediately as his tongue swipes against you. You part your lips in response as your tongues glide against each other. He pulls out and pushes in again, this time causing him to moan into you.

Finding a steady pace, he continues the circular motion of his hips as he presses his cock in and out, your legs holding him in place against you. The heat of your bodies, bare chest against bare chest, builds between you as you breathe into each others’ mouths through the kiss.

You feel so full, so full of Yuji, so full of love, so full of everything. Each thrust ignites flames inside you, burning hot in the pit of your stomach. The pressure becomes too much to handle.

You pull away from his lips for a moment. “Yuji,” you moan, “I’m close.”

“I know, sweets, me too,” he mutters against your lips.

His movements become sloppy, imprecise, driven purely by physical need. His cock pushes up deeper and deeper inside you and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to sweet release.

It hits you. You throw your head back against the pillows as your vision goes black. Your pussy fluttering around Yuji’s cock sends him over the edge with you, thick ropes of cum painting your insides white. It’s impossible to distinguish the origin of the moans filling your room as you both soar to ecstasy. Shaking, screaming, you both grip tightly to each other as wave after wave of pleasure hits you.

Finally, your breathing slows and you feel the weight of Yuji’s body pressing against yours, his head buried into the crook of your neck. His hips have stilled but his breathing is still ragged against your skin. Reaching your hand up you gently twirl his hair around your finger, the action making him shiver in your embrace. Both of you lay there for a while, panting, bodies intertwined as the silence of the room wraps around you.

Eventually Yuji lifts his head up, resting his forehead against yours, both slightly damp with sweat, as his eyes meet yours. His sweet, soft brown eyes, so full of love as he gazes down at you: his treasure, his one and only. He tilts his head down, softly placing his lips against yours.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you, too,” you respond, bringing your other hand up against his cheek, rubbing your thumb against his flushed skin.

This is what it was all for. This, this moment, is perfect.

previous chapter | series masterlist

160 notes · View notes

rainbowmoonstonestories · 4 months ago

Text

Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 20

Chapters: 20/? Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix 2022, minor content from the Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F!Reader Characters: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus, Lucienne, Matthew the Raven, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Hob Gadling, Death, Rose Walker, The Corinthian, other minor Sandman characters, Original Characters. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching, very long chapters to read. Summary: You always dreamed of becoming a successful Fashion Designer, sharing your creations with the world and making your father proud. But with him being very ill and so many costs solely weighting on your shoulders, things didn’t go as planned and you had to take a different path instead. An interesting offer led you to the elder Alex Burgess and you were hired as a new housemaid for a very good pay. However, your kindness and outstanding empathy convinced the man to give you an additional task for a doubled compensation; gaining the trust of Dream Of the Endless, held captive into the basement for over a century. Despite the shock of finding such an ethereal entity stripped of all his clothes and contained into a confined space, you had to accept for the sake of your father. But the more you got to speak to the mysterious anthropomorphic personification who didn’t utter a single word, the more you were lost into his eyes that, conversely, seemed to contain the entire universe. A deep connection formed between the two of you, separated only by a thick layer of glass.

Little did you know, what started like a simple housemaid job was about to change your life forever.

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

Tagging: @number-0-iz, @emarich7, @jaziona92, @bridkesby If anyone else wants to be tagged in the next updates, let me know.

You can also read this on AO3 if you feel more comfortable!

Important notice: I am aware of the current allegations against Neil Gaiman and made a statement here.

With the Corinthian finally out of the picture, Morpheus could prepare to eradicate the Vortex from his realm without further interruptions. Rose's tragic fate weighed heavily on your heart, as Morpheus chose to remove you from the Waking World and bring you to the Dreaming for advanced protection.

Morpheus stood a few feet away, hands in his pockets and legs slightly apart. His stance conveyed irritation, disappointment, and a disconcerting level of worry.

You pushed yourself off the wall completely, nervously intertwining your fingers. "Hey.”

He advanced slowly but steadily, drawing his hands out and clenching them into fists at his sides. What could you possibly say to justify your actions? Fabricating a lie would be futile; with your Dreamstone emitting his energy and signaling impending danger, convincing him would have been utterly impossible.

And so, you surrendered to whatever fate awaited you.

"The Corinthian is her-”

"What are you doing here?" He demanded, his voice laced with anger.

You gulped, inhaled deeply, and released a trembling sigh. "Honestly? I don't have an answer to that.”

"Do you believe this to be a game for you to meddle with?”

"I never considered it a game. How could I?”

He shut his eyes and pursed his lips in frustration. "I did not give you that jewel just so you could chase my Nightmares."

You shook your head. "I promise you, that's not what I intended to do. I heard Rose was coming here to pick up her brother, and somehow I... I felt like something was horribly wrong. That she might be in danger.”

"I specifically requested that you stay out of it. For your sake.”

That he did, in his own way of speaking. It wasn't your burden to bear when you were meant to keep living your life in the Waking World. You should have known that he meant for you to never interfere, not even—and especially—in case of a negative development.

“Yes, but-”

Morpheus's eyes were piercing your very soul, a storm brewing within their depths. "’But’ what?”

"I care about you,” you said, your voice unsteady. “Whether you accept it or not, I couldn't stand by and do nothing."

Morpheus's face relaxed, though the tension in his posture remained. "Your concern is noted, but your interference could have dire consequences.”

"What was I supposed to do? Should I have acted like I didn't feel anything? Waited for the Vortex to destroy everything you’ve built, along with my own world?”

He took a step closer, his gaze intense. "You were supposed to trust me. To trust that I would take care of it.”

"You know that I trust you more than anyone else. But I can't just set aside my instincts, especially when I know what's at stake.”

Morpheus sighed, the weight of his responsibilities and his feelings for you evident in his grimace. "You must understand, your presence here complicates matters.”

With the Corinthian on the loose and his realm threatened by the Vortex in the Nightmare’s grasp, the last thing Morpheus needed was for you to add to his burdens. Although you didn’t truly expect to find the Corinthian in Georgia, acting on nothing but a gut feeling and venturing there alone inevitably made you seem like a pathetic wannabe hero with no real purpose.

Certainly, you weren’t expecting to end up surrounded by a cult of twisted serial killers on top of everything else.

And so, you nodded, absorbing the gravity of his words. "Look, I'm sorry. I know I acted on impulse without thinking.”

He reached out, cupping your face gently in his hands. "Y/N, your well-being is paramount to me. You must promise me that you will stay safe.”

You leaned into his touch, finding comfort in it despite the chaos surrounding you. "Let me help in any way I can. Even if it's just staying by your side.”

"No. Not this time.”

You bowed your head in resignation.

"Wait for me to return to you. Avoid putting yourself in danger.”

“But… what about the Dreamstone? Won’t it just—”

“I said, no.”

His refusal left a bitter taste in your mouth, yet, given the situation, you couldn't muster any offense.

He entrusted you with the necklace to guard you against any external threats, no matter their origin. It saved you from the fire explosion in the studio, and just moments earlier, from the Corinthian’s hunger for your eyes.

Clearly, there were no certainties left, with the Vortex on the brink of obliterating everything in its path. He stood firm, refusing to reconsider. All you could do was accept his protective nature.

"Fine," you sighed heavily. “I’ll do as you say.”

Morpheus tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes once more. "It is almost over, my love," he said solemnly. “Have faith in me.”

"I do have it, Morpheus,” you responded, reluctantly taking a step back. “Still, be careful.”

“I will.”

With one last lingering touch, Morpheus turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows. You watched him vanish, your heart heavy with love and worry, as you stood alone in the deserted corridor, pondering your options. Considering the Corinthian's conference on the lower floor, staying put might minimize the risk of running into any of his deranged followers. You also remembered overhearing him conversing with someone in one of the suites, though the wall had obscured the room number.

You mulled it over for a moment before it all clicked. Perhaps he had indeed trapped Rose, Jed, and Gilbert to carry out his sinister plans. If that's the case, finding your friends and the boy shouldn't be too difficult.

But just as you were about to move, your feet froze in place again, your stomach knotting up as a voice in your head formed words you knew you couldn't heed.

"Go to him," it said. "Find Morpheus.”

No, you were supposed to follow his instructions, staying far away from the Corinthian and any potential risk lurking nearby. While the Dreamstone around your neck provided a sense of security, Morpheus had been explicit, and disappointing him was something you intended to keep off your to-do list.

And yet, you kept scanning your surroundings, glancing back to where he had disappeared and then forward, ultimately yielding to the tug of your intuition. Because the question remained unanswered: would Morpheus be invulnerable now that his realm had continually deteriorated? You didn't doubt that he could stop his own creation from causing a dream apocalypse and prevent the Waking World from collapsing alongside the Dreaming, but there was a pressing need in your heart that compelled you to pivot on your heels and descend the stairs.

And so you did, walking as fast as you could, maneuvering your way through the convention area. You remembered passing by the conference room during your inspections, and navigating the space had now become quite familiar to you.

The crowd of attendees had visibly thinned, with only a few people strolling around, enjoying their break with a fresh drink by the pool outside, or chatting in the corners. None of them seemed to pay any attention to your distress, allowing you to walk undisturbed.

Morpheus was going to be livid, you could already predict it. But that was insignificant compared to the enormous chasm of fear forming inside you.

When you arrived at the large double doors, you took a few deep breaths and grasped one of the cold bars to push your way through. The door emitted a soft creak as you opened it, prompting you to pause and listen for any reaction on the other side.

Nobody seemed to have heard you; the distant voices of Morpheus and the Corinthian filled the silent atmosphere. A large group of people sat motionless in front of the stage, all oddly immobile, holding the same, identical position in their seats.

"Look at you, walking this Earth for over a century, infecting others with your joy of death. But what have you given them?”

Morpheus was confronting his creation, standing inches away from the false man who exuded an air of overconfidence and menace.

“What have you wrought? Nothing. Just something else for people to be afraid of. That is all.”

"So what now?" the Corinthian asked. “You send me back into their dreams?”

You saw him draw his dreadful knife, pulling it from inside his jacket. “’Cause I won’t go willingly.”

Morpheus, on the other hand, appeared completely unperturbed. The faint, amused grin on his face underscored his strength and commanding presence as he walked forward. “A knife… against a Dream?”

“You don’t think Dreams can die? Let’s find out-”

“Enough.”

Fed up with the Corinthian's theatrics, Morpheus raised his right hand to put an end to the entire ordeal. Sand magically formed from his palm, extending toward the Nightmare in a trail of golden grains.

Contrary to your expectations, and against all you had hoped for, things didn't go as planned.

In one quick, fluid motion, the Corinthian pierced the Endless's hand with his blade, the sharp metal slicing through his skin. The sand completely dissipated, leaving only the monster's knife lodged in his master's palm. Morpheus grunted in pain and surprise, dropping to his knees.

You were terrified, your eyes burning at the sight of your lover on the verge of defeat. How could that even be possible? How could he be losing his power and strength again, all because his own creation was exploiting a mortal's power?

No, that was too much for you to endure. You couldn't let it happen a second time. Unable to witness the horrific spectacle any longer, you shouted.

“Morpheus!!”

You ran to the stage, passing through rows of humans who appeared to be asleep, their eyes shut as though under hypnosis. You ascended the platform with a mixture of dread and disbelief, immediately pressing one hand against Morpheus’ back while carefully wrapping the other around his wrist. He traced the line of his evident gash, now marked by the redness of his blood.

You didn't care about the outburst he would most likely direct at you later. Because, for the umpteenth time, your inner voice had guided you to the right course of action. Of all the times you could have left him on his own, that was not the day to do it.

You expected Morpheus to regain control and shake you off, ordering you to leave. You were quite surprised to see he neither said a single word, nor attempted to disentangle himself from your hold.

Instead, he raised his eyes back to the Corinthian, lips parted in shock. "How...?”

Although you couldn't see the Nightmare's eyes through his black lenses, you noticed the way he tilted his head to look at you. His grin was victorious, utterly vicious, and positively nauseating.

“I’ve got Rose Walker getting stronger every second while you get weaker,” he answered. “She’s taking your place at the center of the Dreaming.”

You shuddered. Was that the so-called grand plan he had mentioned the day before?

“She’s bringing the walls down between the sleepers’ minds. And now they’re all dreaming the same dream.”

Your fingers instinctively tightened around Morpheus' hand, feeling him grow colder by the second, vulnerable and exposed.

“A dream that I inspired.”

“No,” Morpheus countered.

“It’s already happening. There’s nothing you, or your precious little human here can do. She’s asleep and dreaming.”

“Then she’s not beyond my reach.”

“Oh, I think she is. Now that she knows you’re planning to kill her.”

And then you felt it—that strange sensation of losing your balance, your head feeling floaty and light as the air around you grew eerie and darker. Your eyelids suddenly felt as heavy as boulders, dropping over your eyes until all you could see was black, with random shapes taking form in front of you.

“You need to wake up.”

Morpheus’ voice echoed next to you. You saw Rose appear and withdraw as soon as she noticed him, maintaining a protective stance over a little boy who you assumed was the lost brother she had been searching for. A creepy scene materialized around you, with strangers seemingly cutting and chopping flesh on the tables with their own blades and surgical instruments.

There was blood, skinned corpses, and body parts everywhere you looked.

“Don’t listen to him, Rose bud,” The Corinthian interjected, appearing right behind her just as Morpheus stood back on his feet. “You’re the one with power now, not him. This is your dream.”

“It’s his dream, for your world,” the Endless corrected.

“Then let’s make it yours. Whatever you want, Rose. A blank canvas.”

Right after the Corinthian's declaration, the boy was enveloped in a bright light and was instantly gone, leaving nothing but emptiness in his wake.

"Where's Jed...?" Rose asked, her voice filled with worry.

“Jed’s fine. He’s upstairs, asleep. He’s right next to you.”

The Corinthian's words were becoming increasingly infuriating. With each sentence, you felt a growing urge to expel him forcefully from his own nightmare.

“This dream is yours now. The Dreaming is yours now.”

“The Dreaming is yours. Is that what he told you?” Morpheus inquired.

“He told me you were gonna kill me,” Rose responded.

“Did he tell you why? When a Vortex brings down the walls between dreams, she creates a single volatile dream that will collapse in upon itself, and take the Waking World with it.”

"Rose, he's right," you declared. "It's more complex than you realize.”

“Y/N…? I….”

“Your world. Everything and everyone will die,” Morpheus elaborated.

“Don’t believe him, Rosie.”

You were boiling like a steamed pot, feeling the figurative smoke explode out of your ears. "Can you just shut up and leave her alone?!”

The Corinthian smiled, relishing what he evidently considered the pinnacle of his existence. He craved power, control, and freedom—a freedom that would cost your kind its very life and the King of Dreams his position and domain.

Thankfully, Morpheus promptly continued his explanation. “It’s happened before. I failed my duty, an entire universe was lost.”

You subconsciously reached for his sleeve, gripping it as if your life depended on it. It was vital, absolutely essential. You wanted to be there, you needed to be there. With him, with them, within Rose's dream. Alongside the King of Dreams.

Because it felt right, there was nowhere else you belonged.

“He can’t kill you if you kill him first.”

The impatience in the Corinthian's voice was escalating rapidly, and you heard the sound of his knife being extracted one more time.

“Killing me may save your life, but it won’t save the lives of those you love.”

Whenever Morpheus spoke, the Corinthian tried to sway Rose to his side. The poor girl was caught between two formidable forces, scared and confused, unable to decide what or whom to believe.

“I’m trying to keep you alive here.”

Morpheus. “I’m trying to keep your world alive.”

"Rose, if you feel like you can't trust him, then trust me," you pleaded.

“You have to choose one of us Rose-”

“Enough!”

Rose's voice echoed, spreading in all directions. A magical energy formed around her, converging toward her body as if pulled by a magnet. Morpheus's eyes immediately sought out the Corinthian, who now seemed suddenly at a loss for words or actions.

“If I am powerful as you say I am, then I will find my own way. In the meantime, the walls go back up.”

She tentatively raised her right hand, and as soon as she did, the dream in front of her completely dissipated, revealing a gloomy, empty room coated in metal.

“Because I’m not dreaming anymore.”

She turned and repeated the gesture, scattering the remnants of the Corinthian's nightmare. Morpheus observed her with pride and satisfaction, feeling both relieved and pleased by the unforeseen outcome.

“Thanks to you two, I’m wide awake.”

A bright flash blinded you as you were catapulted back to the Waking World, where you found yourself still standing next to Morpheus. He was examining his palm, watching as the knife wound healed and his skin regained its smooth complexion.

When you looked at the Corinthian, you saw him trembling, breathing heavily, and reaching for his glasses, a sign of utter annihilation.

“If you think I’m going back to the Dreaming with you—”

You almost jumped back in shock. The instant you saw his eyes, you understood why he always kept them concealed behind those dark lenses. Rather than having human-like eyeballs with irises and pupils, his sockets were filled with teeth, looking like two smaller versions of his mouth.

“You’re not going back,” said Morpheus. “I brought you in this world to serve humanity. Not to feed upon it.”

He was profoundly distraught, disappointed in himself for having created something so terribly wrong. Yet, despite all the evil the Corinthian had unleashed over the past century, you could still see the brilliance in him. As terrifying as he was, at least he served his intended purpose.

“Do you know why I do it? So I can taste what it’s like to be human.”

The nightmare's confidence had shattered, replaced by pain evident in his fractured voice.

Morpheus remained silent, listening intently.

“And you don’t care about humanity. You only care about yourself and your realm and your rules.”

He was seething with anger, harboring the same grudge that Gault had expressed.

"You really don't know anything," you intervened. "There's so much you fail to see.”

"And what else is there?”

“I contain the entire collective unconscious,” Morpheus answered. “Without my rules it would consume me.”

A pause followed.

“Humanity would be consumed.”

You exhaled, feeling the weight of his emotion. Despite his eternal power, he was not immune to the risk of being erased from existence, as the Vortex had just demonstrated. How had he managed to endure for millions of years, relying solely on himself?

The Corinthian, however, was not going to be convinced.

“Or you might actually feel something. I am not the problem, Dream.”

“You’re right. This was my fault, not yours. I had so much hope for you, but I created you poorly then.”

If the Corinthian had eyes, tears would have spilled from them, trickling down his cheeks. For as he listened to Morpheus's words, he understood that his time in both realms had come to a tragic conclusion.

“So I must uncreate you now.”

The Nightmare wept, appearing so innocent and tormented that it was hard to believe he had threatened you in the hotel corridor, killed all those people, and ripped their eyes off to feast on their humanity.

Even a Nightmare can dream, my Lord.”

Except that sometimes, dreams could become seriously twisted and tainted.

Morpheus tried again, letting his power flow from his outstretched fingers. The Corinthian began to burn, glowing a deep red, rotting and decaying like a vampire consumed by the sun. Before he could be destroyed, he summoned the strength to hurl one last venomous remark at his master.

“̘͌̅I a̔m̺̠̦ͩ ǫ̘̹ͥ̔͞͡n̳͎̪ͨ̇ͧ͠ḷ͔̊́͢y͊ s̫ͅỡ̶̟͍̻̞̦ͬ͛ͦr̩͙̀͜͝r͇ͤ̓y̢̿̾̏ͫ͜ I̴͚̥̘̖̓͊ͨ͒̚̕ w͖o̘̒͂ͤn̵̪̑̒͋’̗͓͐̒t bé͉ h̡̳͝e͇͈͛̎͌͐̋͜͢͠ŗ̩͚ͮͯẽ̷͂̅͜ t͚o̴͑̐̎̽̏ͨͨ̒̅̍ se̟͑e̳ R͂oş͖̺̾̿́̐̍͟e̹̙̤̙͎̋͒̂͆ͬ͝ W̤̤̬̕al̨͙̀̏k̆͜é̜̟̂̄͛r ḑ̢̜̦͚͕͎̜ͦo̵̶̶͈͐̋͢ t̴̯͕̱̳̃̌̇̃͜͞h̸ͥͩḛ͛̿̉̐ s̤ͦ̉a͎̿̅̆͟ͅm̱̟̮̆e̴̪̖͓̎͗̐ t̵̸͚͔̬ͧ̾̓ͬ̕͝o̊_̭̈́_̠ y̭̆̎o̽û̸͕͕̩͔ͦ̆ͪͅ.͋̎ͦͫ̆̚”̮̓̽

And then he was reduced to a pile of ash, with a small skull falling from the air and landing on top. Morpheus stepped forward, knelt down and picked it up, gazing at it in the palm of his open hand before rising a moment later.

“Next time I make you, you will not be so flawed and petty, little Dream.”

His fingers sinuously closed around the skull, and all you could do was watch the scene, immobilized and unable to find the right words to express. There was so much to analyze, too many things to register all at once.

“And you…”

You felt your gut squirm, bracing yourself for the second reproach of the day. But as he continued speaking, delivering an impassioned speech, you realized he was addressing the awakening crowd and not you. One by one, the people seated in the rows opened their eyes, fully returning to the harsh reality they needed to confront.

“…who call yourselves ‘Collectors’. Until now, you have sustained fantasies in which you are the victims, comforting daydreams in which you are always right.”

Their expressions were filled with painful realization, the stark truth of what they had committed.

“But no more. The dream is over. I have taken it away. For this is my judgment upon you, that you shall know, from this moment on, exactly how craven and selfish, and monstrous you are. That you shall feel the pain of those you have slaughtered.”

You were getting shivers, running all over you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

“And the grief of those that mourn them still, and you shall carry that pain and grief and guilt with you until the end of time.”

They all rose to their feet, abandoning the conference room like a troupe of zombies, walking along the scaffold to an unknown, but certainly dark and devastating future. You watched them leave as your heart pounded like an uncontrollable drum, absorbing that view as a lesson about humanity—one that wasn't really a novelty, but thankfully had the best possible conclusion.

It saddened you, once again, to see your kind so corrupted and easily manipulated. The Corinthian might have played a fundamental role in their formation, but he only drew out and exposed what was already thriving within them.

"I told you to wait for me," he said quietly. This time, you were definitely the focus of his attention.

"You did,” you confirmed.

"And yet, you have decided to follow me regardless of what I asked.”

“I did.”

You turned your head to the side and met his eyes. He looked somewhat stern, but not as furious as you thought he would be. In the end, his lips curled into a subtle smile—barely noticeable, but as usual, evident enough for you.

You mirrored his expression, offering him a larger, much brighter grin. "I know I shouldn’t be here," you said, taking his right hand in yours and gently touching his previously injured palm, now perfectly immaculate. "But there's nowhere else I'd rather be right now.”

"My love, your bravery is one of the things I adore about you, but it also makes me worry. Immensely so.”

"I know, but what kind of girlfriend would I be if I couldn't even stand by your side when you need me?”

Morpheus did, in fact, need you more than anything in existence. He tightened his grip on your hand, pulling you slightly closer. "You matter to me more than you can imagine," he murmured. "Your presence brings light to the darkest corners of my realm.”

"Then let me be your light, always. Wherever you go, whatever you face, I’ll be with you.”

To you, it was more than a promise. It was a reassurance that, no matter how things evolved from that moment onward, you wouldn't sit on the sidelines and watch him handle the most arduous matters alone.

It was ambitious, given your human nature and limited lifespan. But for now, you didn't want to think about outliving him.

He swallowed, feeling both touched and uptight by your unwavering support. With a gentle touch, he guided your hand to his lips and placed a tender kiss on your knuckles. "As long as I can keep you safe.”

"I don't doubt that you can.”

You kissed his lips and gave his hand one final squeeze before letting go. His eyes betrayed the doubt and fear of failing you, of losing you like he had lost everyone else he ever cared for.

"You ought to leave this place," he stated.

You wished there were more reassurances you could offer him, but for now, you could only nod and follow him down the stage, out of the conference room. You perceived the lingering emotions of those who had departed, the hotel corridors now desolate, the rooms empty. You unpinned the stolen badge from your shirt, unceremoniously tossing it into the first trash bin you passed.

The sky outside was dark, and cars parked in front of the building were leaving one by one. A few remained, their owners inside, crying out their desperation for the dreams they had lost. One of the vehicles seemed to have what looked like fresh blood splashed over the windows, indicating that the murderer inside couldn't handle their newly formed guilt.

It was unnerving, as dark and sinister as a scene from a horror movie. But this was no movie; it was your reality.

You spotted Rose and Jed driving by, heading down the road for a safe return. And yet, there was no trace of Gilbert anywhere. Odd.

Your phone buzzed in your bag, and a quick look at the screen showed Andrew's name. His concise message stated that he was finishing up a few tasks and that your next meeting would be in three days. You appreciated the extra time off, as focusing on work was currently not an option.

Matthew landed gently beside Morpheus' feet. He gave you a polite nod before shifting his focus to Rose's car, which had become a distant speck.

“You want me to follow her?”

“No,” Morpheus replied. “When she is awake, she is not a threat. Tonight when she sleeps, I will find her. And we will end this.”

Your heart sank at that moment, for his words could only mean one dreadful thing: Rose had to be stopped, killed, and torn away from her friends and her newly reunited young brother. It was unjust and incredibly difficult to accept. She was still so young and kind, with so much to offer the world. But no matter how hard you tried to think of a way to save her, you realized that the Vortex within her had already grown exponentially, consuming parts of the Endless' realm and the dreams contained in it.

“Come with me,” he said, extending his hand toward you once again, inviting you to take it.

"Where?" you inquired, lifting an eyebrow as you accepted it.

“To the Dreaming.”

You didn't have time to comment as you noticed your surroundings changing. A sudden gust of cold air enveloped you both, and the hotel blurred away, swept aside like dust. The parking lot twisted and transformed, replaced by familiar bookshelves from the library. Your head spun, and your heart raced as you went through the sudden transition. Before you knew it, you found yourself transported to the world of dreams, leaving you partially disoriented.

It took a moment for you to fully acclimate.

Morpheus let go of your hand and stepped aside, allowing you a moment to fully grasp and absorb the situation.

"Wait. I'm not asleep, am I?”

“No.”

“So… I’m actually here? Physically?”

“You are.”

You could barely tell the difference between being awake and dreaming. Perhaps there was an added layer of awareness that intensified all five of your senses.

“Why did you take me here?”

"It is not safe for you to sleep in the same house as Rose Walker," he explained. "If you stay here, I can preserve your dreams. You are my guest.”

You smiled, noticing the details with renewed clarity. Everything seemed sharper and more mesmerizing than in your unconscious mind. It felt like returning to a known place, one you now considered a second home.

“In that case, thank you for having me.”

He brushed your waist with a delicate touch, seeking your closeness, and promptly placed a tender peck on your forehead. "This place is yours to explore. If you wish to rest, I will have a room crafted just for you.”

His thoughtfulness was awe-inspiring. "Thanks, but I don't think I could sleep right now."

You wondered if it was even possible to fall asleep in the realm of dreams. How did it truly function with your physical body already there?

"I have preparations to make. You can trust that Lucienne will attend to all your needs in my absence.”

You pressed your lips together. "Actually, I'd rather come with you.”

"Y/N, what I am about to do is something you should not witness."

"I know you have to kill Rose, and I'm not trying to stop you. Just... please, let me be there. I don't want her to feel completely cornered and alone.”

Morpheus considered it, lowering his gaze thoughtfully.

"I promised to stand by your side, and I intend to keep my word. I can see how much this pains you, so... let me come. For both of you."

“You will not change your mind.”

It wasn't a question, but a clear realization.

“Sorry. It’s not going to happen.”

He exhaled through his nose in resignation. "Very well, but stay close to me. Do not interfere.”

You wished for Rose to continue living, to care for her brother, and to write the novel she once dreamed of creating. You wanted her to stay with Lyta, providing companionship and support for the arriving progeny. You longed for her to fulfill every wish she ever had, but there was no hope left for any of that.

Sometimes, fate could be unbearably cruel.

“Don’t worry. I don’t plan to,” you reassured him.

He reached for a strand of your hair, letting it slip through his fingers in a loving caress. "I will return shortly, my love. And then we will end this, together. For now, my castle is at your disposal.”

Your hair settled back into place, but his touch left it feeling electric and vibrant. You watched him walk away, his coat—now reverted to its long, simpler form—billowing behind him.

You sighed, feeling a blend of contentment and desolation for what awaited Rose. You touched the bookshelf in front of you, savoring the scent of wood and leather, and the rough texture beneath your fingertips. Being in the Dreaming while conscious was hard to fathom—a unique experience you hadn't thought to explore and didn't know you had secretly hungered for. It made you crave more, to be absorbed by it, to dwell within it. Not as a Dreamer, no. Not in the way Lyta had envisioned.

More frankly, you wanted it to be an integral part of your existence.

Suddenly, a loud throat-clearing sound echoed from the opposite end of the row of books. Your eyes narrowed as you took in the familiar figure standing just a few feet away, seemingly gauging your reaction to his unexpected arrival. There was no mistaking him; only one person could sport those distinctive little glasses, wear such refined attire, and carry that peculiar cane in his left hand.

“Gilbert…?”

"Hello, Miss. Fancy seeing you here in the Dreaming.”

"You… how....?”

"Ah, my dear. I'm quite certain you already know.”

You were momentarily speechless, your mind slowly beginning to churn again. Simply being with him provided a rare tranquility, a mixture of the known and the enigmatic. He was correct; deep down, you had always sensed that the answer lay right before you—hidden and elusive, yet undeniably real.

"You're a Dream, aren't you? You are Fiddler's Green.”

"Yes. Please accept my apologies for not revealing myself sooner. I knew from that Dreamstone that you were... different, so to speak, but I couldn't be entirely sure of your role in all this.”

With a soft, kind smile, you shook your head. "There's nothing to apologize for. I completely understand.”

Gilbert advanced, his heavy footsteps echoing through the space.

"You know, I was absolutely delighted to learn about your... relationship with our Lord. It is quite refreshing to see him with someone who brings him joy.”

You couldn't help but broaden your smile at Gilbert’s words. "It's really more the other way around. He’s very special to me.”

Gilbert nodded, his eyes twinkling. "And you to him, it seems. He is not one to easily let others into his heart, you see.”

It was astounding that you, a simple mortal, had been chosen by Morpheus as his life companion, surpassing all expectations. Being with the King of Dreams felt as natural as if a treasured childhood fantasy had come to life.

It was unique, enchanting, and felt perfectly fitting.

"I assume you have heard about our friend, Rose Walker.”

You gave a solemn nod. "Yes, I know she is the Vortex. I was really hoping things would take a much brighter turn.”

"You and I both wished for that. I hadn’t even realised.”

You crossed your arms, as though subconsciously shielding yourself from the shivers brought on by the prospect of witnessing her death. But your choice was made, and there was no turning back.

"Is there truly nothing we can do?”

"I'm afraid not. When a mortal becomes an active threat, Lord Morpheus must do whatever is necessary to stop them.”

"It's not as if she asked for it.”

"I know. It's rather sad, isn't it?”

You gave his wrist a gentle, amicable squeeze. "Quite so.”

Gilbert's moustache curled upwards as he smiled. "Well then. I have been away from my place for far too long. I suppose it's time for me to resume my duties.”

"I hope you had a splendid time in the Waking World, Gilbert. I know that human beings are not always the best example, but...”

"Quite the contrary. Humans are extraordinary in their own ways, some more than others.”

You chuckled, recognizing that his wink was hinting at people like yourself. “Perhaps you’re right.”

"Now then. Do feel free to visit me the next time you enter the Dreaming.”

“I’d love to.”

He tipped his hat, bowed courteously, and ventured deep into the library, moving with purpose. His long, Victorian-style coat swirled around him, shifting from side to side as he walked away. You watched him vanish behind the shelves, his footsteps becoming increasingly faint.

You hadn't asked about the type of dream he embodied, but you sensed that you would find out soon enough either way.

Once again, alone in the comforting silence of the library, you began to wander aimlessly, uncertain of where your feet would lead you. For the first time, you had the chance to explore Morpheus' home without the fear of waking up. The experience was exhilarating, akin to visiting a long-desired destination for the first time. Although you had dreamt of that place many times, being physically present in the heart of the Endless' realm felt like an immense honor.

The library was even more immense than you had imagined. With countless aisles and dead ends, you found yourself lost within the first fifteen minutes of exploring. It felt as though some of the books were whispering your name—not in a strange, creepy way, but like a group of old friends warmly welcoming you.

When you finally walked past Lucienne and spotted her among the many sections, she seemed genuinely surprised to see you in person, removing her glasses in astonishment. You greeted her warmly with a hug, gave Matthew a gentle scratch on the back of his head, and asked about the state of the Dreaming following the recent disturbances. As Morpheus had predicted, the tremors had completely subsided, and no new chasms had appeared into the ground. The library still bore a few cracks in the wooden floor, but everything was swiftly returning to its original, pristine condition.

Although you were aware of the significant impact on the Dreaming, you asked Lucienne for a place where you could appreciate the scenery without encroaching on Morpheus' privacy. With a warm smile, she recommended a delightful terrace in the eastern wing, just above the library—a serene spot offering a stunning view of the landscape. From there, you could admire the rolling hills and the shimmering river, a place she cherished whenever she sought tranquility.

While the spectacle had probably altered in light of recent events, you still chose to witness it, leaving your bag behind (you had your doubts that your phone would function in another world, anyway). Following the librarian's directions, you navigated your way out of the labyrinth of books, ascending a long staircase and entering a room you had barely traversed before. The place was quiet, as beautiful as a royal palace from a fantasy story, appearing as shiny and dreamy as you remembered it.

You quickly located the terrace Lucienne had described, and as soon as you stepped onto it, you felt your breath hitch at the stunning magnificence. It was large and sturdy, displaying beautifully carved arches with intricate designs and gothic architecture. It was adorned with delicate, silver hanging vines that shimmered softly in the light, adding a touch of ethereal beauty. Black roses were a central feature, symbolizing mystery and elegance, interspersed with deep blue and dark purple flowers that provided a rich contrast. What made it even more enchanting was the set of lanterns emitting a golden glow, their lights gently flickering like stars.

It was no wonder that it happened to be Lucienne's favorite place in the entire castle. Simply standing in front of it made you feel like a princess.

But what stood out the most was how that corner resonated with Morpheus's essence. As you looked at it, you could vividly picture him; every color and design element seemed to reflect his aura.

You put your hands on the marble railing, its height giving you a sense of security and a perfect shield from the vastness beyond. The scenery ahead was truly breathtaking, despite the scattered dark, gloomy spots that occasionally emerged. Not even the Vortex, with its destructive force, had diminished the Dreaming’s splendor.

Partly relaxed, you breathed in the mixture of scents the air carried with it. You could detect a subtle, sweet fragrance of night-blooming flowers, fresh moss and ferns, undertones of amber and cedar, as well as the acrid smell of charred wood and ash, reminiscent of a forest fire.

In some way, all of that made you feel an even deeper connection to the realm, allowing you to witness both its marvels and its frailties.

And you savored every moment of it.

You remained on that terrace, feeling as though an hour or more had slipped by, trying to gauge the passage of time in the Dreaming as a conscious visitor.

Though it was objectively impossible and absurd to spend your entire life in that world as Lyta intended, you could certainly understand the allure. The wish to reside in such a beautiful place with the man you loved was far from a foolish aspiration.

Engrossed in your solitary reverie, you failed to hear Morpheus' footsteps as he approached the terrace. His hands gently settled on your arms, their touch soft as they glided from your shoulders to your elbows. His lips brushed lightly against the tip of your ear before moving to your temple.

"Hi," you murmured, tilting your head to the side.

“Hello.”

His voice was a melody, smooth as liquid honey.

“It’s really beautiful here,” you commented.

"The view is even more sublime with you in it.”

You felt bashful, your cheeks warming at the compliment. “Not as sublime as you make it.”

With softened eyes, Morpheus guided you to face him entirely. "My love, there are countless wonders within the Dreaming. Each corner of this realm holds a unique beauty, a reflection of the myriad dreams that shape it. Yet, none of these compare to your presence.”

Just when you believed your heart couldn't race any faster because of him, he proved you wrong.

"Words alone cannot capture your beauty. You illuminate both your world and mine."

He took your hand, tenderly stroking your fingers with his thumb, kissed your forehead and rested his own against it.

"You weave a new layer of marvel into the fabric of dreams. And for that, I am eternally grateful.”

Your lower lip quivered, and the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes made you blink repeatedly. “Aw…”

He smiled, a rare and genuine expression of his deep affection for you. "I hope you know, my love, that you will always be the most beautiful dream I have ever known.”

His heartfelt and poetic expressions only made your emotions burst forth. "I... I don't know what to say.”

"You needn't say a thing."

"No, I do. Because I don't know if you realize just how much you mean to me.”

“You matter to me more than you can imagine.”

Your words echoed his statement, proving how strongly connected you were to his heart.

He gently touched your face with his index finger, catching a tear that was about to fall, and gazed at the crystal drop with deep contemplation. "I do, I can assure you.”

"I love you," you reiterated. "So much it makes my heart ache.”

"And I, more than words can express, love you. I have found something that transcends time and space in you, a spark that fills the voids and quiets the storms within me.”

"Keep saying these things, and I won't be able to find the will to leave.”

"Then perhaps I shall continue, for I find I have no desire for you to leave my side.”

You laughed, snuggling closer into his embrace, your face resting against his collarbone. Minutes drifted by in tranquil silence as you both listened to the sounds of the Dreaming, remaining intertwined in a knot you never wished to untangle.

As your relationship progressed, you found it increasingly difficult to stay away from him. Your life had blossomed into magnificence, and you wouldn't want to exchange it for anything. Still, despite the natural, profound attachment to your reality, you couldn't deny that a part of you always lingered in Morpheus' dimension. It was bound to happen, and you had every reason to be attached to it.

Regrettably, there was an urgent matter that could no longer be postponed. His hold on you weakened, and you could only accept the separation with a somber acceptance.

"It is time, my love.”

The thought sent a jolt through your heart. “Already…?”

"Rose Walker is currently asleep, causing disruptions in the dreams of others.”

"Then we need to get to her before it is too late.”

"I would still suggest that you remain here with Lucienne.”

"No. I said I would go with you, and that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

"If that is truly what you wish, then follow me.”

You had no idea what to expect, knowing you were about to witness a murder. Given the nature of Morpheus' power, you were certain it wouldn't be conventional, but that didn’t make it any less painful. The Vortex had to be stopped; of that, there was no doubt. You just hoped for a way to separate the girl from the destructive energy she never chose to have.

In an instant, you were no longer inside Morpheus' castle but out in the midst of a storm, with the wind tearing at your hair and clothes. It was sudden and unpredictable, so fierce that it could have swept anyone away in the Waking World. Morpheus tightened his grip on your hand, giving you a reassuring nod to indicate that he had everything under control. In the distance, you could hear the familiar voices of Rose, Hal, and the others from the B&B, their cries getting swallowed by the Vortex's voracious energy one by one. Rose repeatedly called out for her brother as you and Morpheus pressed on.

Your pendant remained inert, and you appeared unaffected by the explosive force in front of you. Apparently, being awake had protected you from the peril the Vortex would have posed if you were asleep.

Snow blanketed the entire area in a soft white layer, yet the chill felt more psychological than physical. Rose knelt on the ground, consumed by an overwhelming wave of dread.

Letting go of your hand, Morpheus advanced towards the girl. “You’ve caused a great deal of damage,” he announced. “Nothing that I cannot repair, a least at this stage.”

Startled by the commanding tone of the King of Dreams, Rose sprang to her feet. “What happened to Jed? To my friends?”

“They’re asleep in their bed, but they’re not safe. No one is. Not until the Vortex is dead.”

Your jaw tightened, and the intense storm seemed to quiet down, unveiling a dry, desert-like landscape made of rocks. It looked so desolate, so dark and impoverished.

“Death is not always such a bad thing,” Morpheus continued. “You could stay here if you like. My raven was once a mortal.”

You furrowed your brows. Lyta's husband had turned into a ghost and secretly taken refuge in the Dreaming, unbeknownst to Morpheus and the realm's inhabitants. Since he fathered a child with his wife in her dreams, Morpheus was compelled to banish him, returning him to his rightful place. However, his words hinted that, under certain conditions, humans could remain there after death if Morpheus assigned them specific roles.

It was a completely new perspective for you, sparking a flurry of questions in your mind.

And then, a frantic voice called out as someone ran toward the three of you.

“Wait! Sir!”

Gilbert was sprinting with all his might, while Morpheus' face contorted in bewilderment.

“Gilbert? What are you doing here? “ Rose asked.

“This is Fiddler’s Green,” Morpheus corrected.

“You…? You’re a Dream?”

Gilbert confirmed with a slight head bow. “I am. I-I left my post here to experience life as a human being. A life which I humbly offer in exchange for yours.”

"Gilbert..." you murmured. "What are you doing...?”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Morpheus dissuaded him. “For the Dreaming and the Waking World to live, the Vortex must die.”

“Then what’s the point of a Vortex?” Rose protested. “Why do we even exist?!”

Morpheus shook his head, unable to deliver a proper explanation. “Honestly…”

"I have a theory," Gilbert offered. “When a human is at the center of the Dreaming, is it not to remind us that we exist because humans dream, not the other way around?”

Ah, there it was—the familiar wisdom you had come to appreciate.

“The miracle of humanity itself should always be more vivid to us than any marvels of power.”

You could see Morpheus' eyes becoming redder and wetter, his lips forming a small, relieved smile. “I cannot find it in my heart to punish you for leaving, Fiddler’s Green. But it is time you took up your appointed position once more.”

“It would be my honor, sir. It was never my intention to abandon my role.”

“What was your role? Who were you?” Rose questioned with curiosity.

“Oh, my dear, Fiddler’s Green is not a “who”, it is a “where”. I was not a person, I was a place.”

A place...? That could explain why you smelled those pleasant fragrances of nature when you had tea together at night.

“And, after your… death, if you stay in the Dreaming, visit me. Walk in my meadows and my green glades. Rest beneath my trees.”

Rose's expression was a portrait of pure sweetness as she listened to his gentle invitation. Morpheus looked at Gilbert with a blend of respect and satisfaction, much like an artist admiring their masterpiece.

"Farewell, Rose Walker. It was a privilege being human with you.”

Rose blinked, her tears resonating with your own emotions.

When Gilbert looked your way, every fiber of your being wanted to rush over and hug him. Nevertheless, you maintained your composure, recognizing it wasn't the right time for such an impulsive outburst of affection.

"Y/N Y/LN. It was a great pleasure making your acquaintance.”

"Thank you, Fiddler's Green. I thoroughly enjoyed our time together."

You observed as Gilbert took a deep breath, spread his arms wide, and extended his fedora. A flock of colorful butterflies, pink petals, and green leaves emerged from his entire form, rising up to the sky and swirling around. Gradually, he vanished in the same manner as Gault and the Corinthian, far from dramatic and certainly more graceful, leaving his hat to gently fall to the ground.

What truly made your jaw drop was the spectacular metamorphosis of the bland, rocky area into a vibrant environment with trees, grass, and a splendid lake with waterfalls. Yet, there was no time to admire it, as Morpheus was already looking at Rose again.

"I do not wish to take your life. But we all have responsibilities and this is one of mine.”

The energy that had enveloped Rose in the Corinthian’s nightmare returned, ready to unleash even more. The sky began to darken, heavy clouds floating above, with lightning preparing to strike in response to it.

"I am sorry,” Morpheus conveyed.

“Just do it. Whatever it takes to save my brother and my friends. I’m ready.”

She was so brave, so mature and receptive. Any other human would have tried to run, to struggle, to resist Morpheus in a futile attempt to escape certain death.

On instinct, you touched Morpheus’ arm before he could act, and his eyes, full of sadness and tangible regret, questioningly shifted to you.

"To be sure, is this truly the only option we have?"

“You know it is.”

“So, you have no other choice.”

“No.”

It didn't hurt to try one last time, but you knew better than to expect any improvement. With a long, weary sigh, you gazed at Rose, who stood rigid like a soldier, bracing herself with a mix of fear and determination.

You moved forward cautiously, led by your heart, as Morpheus called out your name. His voice was filled with alarm and concern for the consequences of your choices, but your modest humanity offered no means to alter the course of events.

“I won’t cause any trouble, don’t worry.” Your voice carried both resolve and weariness. "Allow me this one moment. Please."

And so he did, no longer hindering you, for he understood that the compassion woven into your DNA was prevailing.

You stopped just a few inches away from Rose, offering a wistful smile. "I'm so sorry, Rose. I wish I could do more for you. But I have no power, no means to save you from the unfortunate circumstances that justify the end.”

"It's okay," she replied faintly. "I understand.”

You envisioned her taking care of Jed, studying, graduating from grad school, writing, and enriching the world with her wonderful stories. You saw yourself talking to her on the phone, exchanging emails, and chatting online, keeping each other updated about your respective lives.

A simple daydream that, this time, not even Morpheus could make come true.

Cradling her face with your warm hands, you pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, your lips resting there as you fought back a lump in your throat. Engaging with others in your dreams was one thing, but now, for the first time, you were experiencing it from the other perspective.

It was profoundly unacceptable, yet there was nothing you could do to rectify such an injustice.

Then, you hastily pivoted on your heels and returned to your spot, standing beside Morpheus with your hands clasped together. The Endless sensed your turmoil, the sorrow you felt for what he was about to do. The empathy. The anger.

He wished he could shield you from all that suffering, which you should never have endured.

"If you wish to leave, if you do not want to see this...”

His persistent concern for you was undeniably charming, but you held firm. “I’ll stay.”

He scrutinized you briefly but decided not to pursue it further. Resuming his serious demeanor, he lifted his right hand to absorb and destroy the Vortex as he had with the Corinthian’s essence. Rose closed her eyes, ready to surrender everything inside her.

You clutched the fabric of your shirt, careful not to tear it, keeping your eyes fixed on the scene. Tempted to look away, you chose instead to stay strong for Rose, Morpheus, and yourself. You watched as he absorbed what she had trapped in her body, the Vortex being drawn in by his will as her life slowly ebbed away.

You anticipated Rose might dissolve or collapse on the ground, but neither occurred because Morpheus was interrupted for the second time.

“My lord, stop!”

Lucienne arrived, stopping Morpheus in his tracks, and with her was a woman you had never seen before. She had long, dark, graying hair and wore what seemed to be a blue nightgown.

All that tension and the repeated disruptions were starting to give you a headache.

Rose was taken aback. "Unity?!”

"This is Unity Kincaid," Lucienne elucidated.

What…?

The woman, holding a tome between her hands, introduced herself. "I am Rose's great-grandmother. And according to this book, I was meant to be the Vortex of this age."

Unity Kincaid, the sole survivor of the Sleepy Sickness, was the only human who awakened after so many years, defying death and looking much younger than her actual age.

“But because you were imprisoned and locked out of the Dreaming, that fate was handed down to my descendants.”

“I don’t understand,” Morpheus remarked.

Unity regarded him with a hint of amusement. "You're not very bright, are you?”

Hey. Rude.

“Come here, Rose.”

Handing the book to Lucienne, Unity approached her great-granddaughter, who stepped closer, profoundly confused and visibly fatigued.

"I want you to reach down inside yourself and give me whatever it is that makes you the Vortex.”

“But h-how?”

“You’re dreaming, darling. Anything is possible.”

Having slumbered for what felt like an eternity, it was no surprise that Unity Kincaid exuded such confidence in the dream world. One couldn't help but wonder what it must have been like for her to return to the Waking World as an older woman when, the last time she had closed her eyes, she had been as young as Jed Walker.

Rose lowered her eyes, deep in thought about her next move. She extended her hand to her chest, passing effortlessly through her shirt, skin, and ribs. When she pulled it back, she held a dark red glass heart, absorbing all the surrounding power. The center glowed with a lighter hue, with the storm captured inside flickering and flashing.

"This?" Rose mused aloud.

Unity didn't falter, taking the crystal from the girl's hands. "Oh, thank you, Rose, love.”

Straightening her posture, the woman turned and locked her resolute stare on Morpheus. "I'm the Vortex now, Dream King, as I should have been long ago. So, leave my great-granddaughter alone.”

It was clear she harbored no genuine resentment towards him. She understood that his obligation to take Rose's life was driven by a higher purpose, safeguarding both realms from a devastating blow. However, her decision to become the Vortex to protect Rose highlighted the profound strength and sacrifice inherent in familial bonds.

Morpheus stood in stunned silence, mouth agape, watching her. The heart pulsed and trembled between her hands, rumbling and roaring, until the crystal began to crack. A burst of red light exploded as it shattered, enveloping everyone in a blinding flash and a powerful gust of air.

Before Unity could fall, Morpheus steadied her by holding her right arm. Rose, noticing the woman's frailty and dizziness, called out in concern.

"What happened...?" Unity asked, forcing her head up but struggling to keep it steady.

"You died," Morpheus replied with a surprising gentleness. "So that Rose might live.”

Panic consumed Rose, rendering her unable to fully absorb the tragic news. And understandably so.

“I’m so sorry!”

“No, don’t be. I’m not. I was meant to die a long time ago, Rose. But if I had, I would never have met my golden-eyed man.”

Something stirred in Morpheus. When he and Lucienne exchanged a knowing look, it became apparent that whatever it was, it didn't bode well at all.

“And we would never have had our beautiful baby girl, and you would not have been born.”

“Wait,” Morpheus stepped in. “The father of your child had golden eyes?”

“I’ve never seen anything like them,” she affirmed.

After a momentary silence, Morpheus stated, "I have."

A man with golden eyes. Why did that spark a sense of recollection in you? To the best of your knowledge, you had never encountered anyone with eyes like those. After all, such a color was not something any human could possess in the Waking World. It was unnatural, a phenomenon unachievable without contact lenses or special visual effects.

Except…

…That stylish, flamboyant individual you had mistaken for the company's sponsor, whose irises had seemed to flash gold, which you dismissed as a mere trick of the hall's lighting.

You still didn't know who they were since the original sponsor couldn't attend the appointment. Could they actually be the man Unity Kincaid had a child with during her century-long coma? How was this person connected to Morpheus and the Dreaming? What compelled them to approach you that day, speaking about your deepest desires and those cryptic things you could barely comprehend?

Your brain was trying to process all that information like a computer, but it was clearly encountering a fatal error.

"Goodbye, Rose, darling," Unity's farewell was heartbreakingly poignant.

As comforting as it was to know Rose would continue living, against all previous odds, seeing her succumb to her tears and embrace Unity was something you could hardly bear without letting your own sadness overcome you.

“Mr. Holdaway will see to it that you and Jed have everything you need.”

She gently stroked and patted Rose’s back, and the girl had to gather all her willpower to let go of her great-grandmother.

"You and your brother are children of the Endless," Morpheus declared with incredible calmness, almost contentment. "You have suffered enough. You may leave this place.”

And just when you beieved you couldn't be more perplexed, your mind went blank at the mention of "children of the Endless" as you tried to piece together its significance.

Unity Kincaid met a man with golden eyes in her dreams, which eventually resulted in the birth of Rose and Jed. You sensed that the individual you encountered before the Fashion Show had an aura reminiscent of Morpheus and Teleute, leading you to deduce that they must be another one of Morpheus's siblings. Or at the very least, that seemed to be the most logical conclusion.

Which, in theory, would make Morpheus Rose's great-great-uncle. Truly, a headache for you.

Oh, Morpheus had quite a bit of explaining to do now.

“Goodbye, Rose.”

Shaken and traumatized, the girl instantly disappeared, reuniting with her brother in the Waking World. Meanwhile, Unity Kincaid stood up on her own, taking a deep breath and gazing around in wonder. At last, she was finally at peace.

Who could have imagined that your trip to Cape Kennedy would have unleashed a cascade of extraordinary events?

It was still uncertain whether Unity Kincaid would remain in the Dreaming. Lucienne had brought her back to the castle, where she could stay as long as necessary until a suitable role was found for her, either in Morpheus’ realm or somewhere different.

You and the Endless had stayed, strolling through Fiddler's Green grasses, until you reached the refreshing lake at the path's end, made of the clearest water you had ever seen in your entire life. The sound of its waterfalls left you enchanted, the atmosphere was as pure as mountain air, and if anything, that paradise managed to soothe your nerves, strung as tightly as violin strings.

Still, the King of Dreams noticed your distraction as your mind wandered, waiting for you to speak, only to see you getting lost in your confusion.

“Y/N, what is it?”

��Mh?”

"You look troubled.”

Could you even bring it up, considering how much he loathed the idea of you being so close to the Corinthian in London, and then again in Cape Kennedy? Could you inquire about his sibling without him dissuading you from seeking further information?

Despite your efforts to keep it secret, you had already recognized that you were incapable of lying, especially to him.

"There's something I need to know.”

“I can see that. Go on.”

“Who’s the man with golden eyes?”

Just as you had predicted, Morpheus faltered and averted his gaze. "This is not something we should discuss."

"I'm asking for a reason," you insisted. "Because I believe I’ve seen those eyes myself.”

And with that, his composure, his calmness, and the relief he had just acquired from having saved his realm, completely dissipated. “How…?”

"Well... I don't know why I'm drawing these entities like a magnet, but the fact is, someone approached me recently. I was supposed to meet the company's sponsor, and I thought that was it. But it turns out the man in question couldn't make it, and I never really knew who I ended up talking to.”

The irritation, the fury that ignited in his eyes.

“Describe them.”

You focused on the memory, replaying it as vividly as you could. "Tall, bleached blonde hair, elegant. White suit, manicured hands, red lips… and naturally, eyes that flashed gold.”

And if you needed any confirmation, the way he stiffened left no doubt in you.

"Morpheus, please tell me.”

There was no reason to conceal the truth from you any longer, so he finally unveiled it. “You have met Desire, another of my siblings."

"I'm surprised that you wanted to meet. Do you have any specific questions you'd like to ask me?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. You could say that I'm interested in your... desires.”

"Is that what you desire? Greater wealth and recognition?”

Now you understood why they felt so peculiar and out of the ordinary. Why they made you feel so puzzled and intruded upon. Desire intended to allure you, to pull you in.

As for the reason, you were still in the dark.

"They came to you because of their animosity against me," he concluded. "To punish me.”

"Why would they want to do that? Aren't you family?”

"Their hatred for me is multifaceted, combining elements of sibling rivalry, jealousy, and grievances. They want to assert influence and demonstrate control over aspects that traditionally fall under my domain, like the subconscious desires of mortals.”

Was it truly just envy that Desire harbored for him? Was it all about dominance and the classic 'who has more power' game?

"There's more to it, though, isn't there?”

“Throughout our long existence, we have interacted in ways that have bred many grudges. Desire has a tendency to interfere, sowing chaos into my affairs.”

"What did they do?”

His nervous pout returned. "Desire's nature is manipulative; they have created the circumstances that led to the tragic outcomes of many things I was involved in.”

How could any family member ever want to harm him?

"So... Unity Kincaid...?”

"Desire knew the child would become the Vortex and that I would be compelled to kill it."

“But why?”

Morpheus remained quiet, observing the growing anxiety on your face. You could perceive there was something much more sinister, something you wouldn't really want to hear, but that you were desperate to know for your own sanity.

"For an Endless, the consequences of killing a member of their family are grave and significant. We are bound by cosmic laws and responsibilities, and our actions can affect the fabric of reality.”

You swallowed, waiting for him to continue.

"If an Endless spills family blood, they are subject to the wrath of the Furies.”

“The Furies?”

“You already know them as 'The Kindly Ones.'”

Those three again. The ladies who warned you about Morpheus and the secrets he was withholding. The ones who toyed with your mind and hinted at the existence of Paregoros without ever revealing her identity to you.

"They are ancient entities that punish familial murder. Their vengeance is relentless.”

He was carefully choosing his words, but his effort to protect you from the brutal revelation couldn't obscure the actual meaning.

"So you're saying they could destroy you. They could take your life away.”

“The killing of a family member is a severe breach of the natural order.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

You turned around, one hand on your hip and the other covering your mouth as you walked aimlessly.

“Y/N.”

Had Morpheus killed Rose to permanently end the Vortex, his realm would have faced yet another onslaught, with the Furies exacting their vengeance upon him. All because of a single deed prompted by his sibling, a deed that could have resulted in Morpheus' demise.

"My love—”

"Let me get this straight," you interrupted him. "Desire sees your rivalry as an excuse to provoke you into breaking the laws and ultimately causing your own downfall?”

Your voice was rising, your blood boiling and coursing through your veins like hot water steaming in a pot.

"Do they really understand the consequences that would bring?”

“They do.”

You snapped, turning to face him again, your eyes red and darkened with seething anger. "Why would they, or anyone in this fucking universe, ever wish such a horrifying fate upon you??!!”

For just a fleeting moment, he was visibly stunned by your expressed frustration. But as he absorbed the extent of your support and the defense you were mounting just for him, Morpheus' shoulders slumped, and his lips formed a subtle smile.

"Now what? Are you going to tell me that Desire was responsible for Roderick Burgess capturing you as well?”

He turned grave, your ironic question striking a chord, his expression shadowed with grief. "It is possible. Desire's machinations are intricate and far-reaching. They revel in chaos and thrive on the misery of others, especially mine. Their interference in my capture would not be beyond them.”

Your eyes widened, and your heart ached as you envisioned him in that glass prison, stripped of everything he was. Could the torment he endured for so long really be the result of his sibling's cruelty, using a gullible mortal for their own satisfaction?

“Oh, that's just... that makes me so... uuughhh!!"

Your growl echoed throughout Fiddler's Green, and your breath quickened as you paced back and forth, vehement, and intensely incensed.

Morpheus watched you with appreciation and melancholy in his stare. "Your anger is justified, but it must not consume you.”

"How can it not?!" you retorted, stopping in your tracks, fists clenched at your sides. "How can I not be furious knowing what you’ve been through, all because of Desire's games? I was there Morpheus. I saw what those humans did to you.”

He was ethereal and beautiful, yet hollow and desolate.

“I swear, from the moment I met Desire, I felt so awful in their company. Now I know why.”

Morpheus stepped closer, his presence calming yet still carrying the weight of the cosmos. "Desire seeks to disrupt, to provoke such reactions. We must be smarter.”

You took a deep breath, attempting to steady yourself. “Smarter? Morpheus, I could have lost you today!”

The raw emotion in your voice brought a flicker of pain to his eyes. "I am deeply sorry for the anguish this has caused you.”

"It's not just about being sorry. It's about preventing it from happening again. If they're truly behind your capture, if they created a new Vortex just to have you face the Kindly Ones, who, by the way, are not really that kind to my taste, how can we be certain they won't try something else?”

He placed his hands on your cheeks, grounding you with the cool contact. "Do not let Desire's activities influence you. Rest assured, I will have a word with them.”

"Would that even suffice, considering what they've done to you?”

"Speaking with them may not change their behavior, but it will serve as a reminder of the boundaries they should not cross.”

How could a simple reminder be even remotely suitable after all they had put him through? You had been so close to seeing the love of your life eradicated from his own existence without even knowing it.

That ordeal couldn’t be stopped, could it? You were destined to witness Morpheus continually battling for the survival of his realm, facing one challenge after another, all because the universe seemed determined to punish him no matter what he did.

Well then. If nobody could stand up for the King of Dreams, if not even his own family was willing to put his well-being first, then you would.

And it was paradoxical, seeing how Unity had sacrificed her own life for Rose's sake, while her former lover had merely exploited them for his vengeance. If you had considered the Corinthian a despicable monster, if you had thought that Mister Burgess was the worst, most rotten example of humanity, Desire was by far a step ahead of them.

Pouting like an offended child, you crossed your arms over your chest. "In that case, I will protect you.”

Morpheus looked at you in astonishment, his expression melting with tenderness. He extended his hands, gently uncrossing your arms and clasping your fingers in his.

"Your spirit is admirable, but you must think of yourself. I would not see you harmed in an attempt to keep me safe.”

"I'm not asking for permission, Morpheus.”

Another small, satisfied grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "You remind me of the mortals who have stood against the odds, driven by love and conviction.”

"And you’re worth every bit of that fight."

Pride illuminated Morpheus's expression. “Very well. But promise me you will be cautious.”

“I will.”

And with that, you succumbed to the urge to hold him in your arms, wrapping your hands around his neck and planting a loud, strong, affectionate kiss on his cheek.

"Mmhh. I just want you to be happy,” you murmured, humming affectionately against his neck.

The vast expanse of the Dreaming seemed to hold its breath. The touch of your lips against his skin was both a promise and a plea, a gesture of love that spoke louder than words ever could. To him, it wasn't new, but every intimate touch and loving declaration from you ignited a fire in his depths that he couldn’t quite describe.

"If I am to measure my existence by moments of true contentment, then I find the greatest ones with you.”

You tightened your grip around his shoulders. "Really?”

"I can guarantee it.”

You pulled away from him just enough to bring your face close to his. "So, are you happy with me?”

“Are you?”

You exhaled, giggling with the delight of a schoolgirl. "I'm the happiest woman alive. In this world, in my world, and in every timeline that exists.”

"Then yes, my love. Your courage, your unwavering support—they are the essence of my happiness.”

"Ah, now you've done it, I'm afraid.”

“Done what?” he asked, a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

"You just made me want to hold you even more, and never let you go.”

His genuine, delighted smile spread across his face as he wrapped his arms around your waist, effortlessly lifting you off the ground. The motion was fluid and filled with a surprising, playful energy, revealing a side of him that only you could witness.

You laughed, a sound that rang through the atmosphere like the purest melody. You tightened your embrace around his neck as he held you securely, his eyes twinkling and casting a glow over the entire Dreaming.

He pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that was soft and filled with all the nuances of his love for you. As the kiss deepened, you felt the strength and warmth of his hold, a silent promise that he would always keep you close, even across the barrier separating your two dimensions.

One that he could always cross to reach you.

Author's note: There is more to come. While the Vortex segment has officially ended, there are things that I want to cover and we haven't seen in the show at all. Also, the very last part of the story will begin soon, and it's going to be particularly important and also very intense. You will need tissues.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 21 ->

#the sandman #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #the sandman fanfic #dream of the endless #the sandman morpheus

24 notes · View notes

maggiedelusional · 2 years ago

Text

Let Me Go || Part 10

Pairing: Hangman x f!reader, Rooster x f!reader

Warnings: ANGST (but you knew that), minor character death, Some Fluff

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Reader is married to and shares a child with Hangman. Life and circumstances drives reader into Rooster’s arms, but Hangman isn’t giving up that easily.

Author's Note: The long awaited Part 10. So this is the final part of the story, but there is still an epilogue coming (actually already started writing it as we speak or rather type). Sorry for the long wait once again, school and law school apps really got the best of me. But I did end up getting into law school with a great scholarship so yay! This chapter was so hard to write, I really kept going back and forth on how I was gonna end it and I know I'm not gonna make everyone happy with how I ended it but I think I went the best possible and realistic way that's healthy for all the characters involved. And I am really happy with what I came up with. I also had such a bad case of writer's block but thanks to some brainstorming with one of my best friends (who I forced to listen to the plot of the story). He helped me come up with an ending I was happy with. So thank you again for your patience and I also I wanna apologize to everyone who asked to be in the tag list that I didn't add, its impossible to keep track of who asked. But without further ado, here is Part 10 of Let Me Go!

You needed a moment to gather your thoughts before responding to Jake's plea. You took a deep breath and wiped the tears from your eyes.

"Jake, of course I still love you," you said, your voice quivering slightly. "But that's not the point. Love alone is not enough to fix what's broken between us."

"I know," Jake replied, his eyes downcast.

"You also have to understand that what I had with Bradley was not the same as what we have," you continued.

"Yes I fell in love with him. How was I not supposed to? He loved me when it felt like you could not, he loved me selflessly and loved our daughter like his own. I can’t just ignore that.”

"You fell in love with Rooster…." Jake repeated, voice low and full of despair.

“I thought it was you and me forever Sweets. I can’t believe you’d go back on our vows and leave me for Rooster!”

“And its not just you and me (y/n), we have a daughter! Imagine how confusing all of this is for her!” Jake was fuming once again, clearly jumping from the bargaining stage of grief back to anger.

“You didn’t think about our daughter when you fucked that corpsman!”

“That’s different (y/n)! She was a stranger, you fell in love with MY friend. Someone I thought was JUST your friend.”

“This is different," you said, feeling a mix of anger and frustration rise in your chest. "Rooster is not just a friend, he's someone I have a deep connection with. And I know it's hard for you to understand, but I can't just turn off my feelings for him."

Jake looked up at you, his expression a mixture of hurt and anger. "So what are you saying, that you want to be with him instead of me?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying," you replied firmly.

Jake's eyes widened as he processed your words. "So what is it? You're just going to leave me here, alone and broken?"

The anger began to rise in you as you spoke. "No, Jake, I'm not leaving you alone and broken. You did that to yourself when you cheated on me. You broke our trust and shattered the foundation of our relationship. And now you have to deal with the consequences."

Jake's face fell as your words hit him like a ton of bricks. "I know what I did was wrong," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm willing to do anything to make it up to you. I love you, (y/n), and I don't want to lose you."

Your anger began to boil over as you listened to Jake's pleas. "Love is not enough, Jake," you spat out. "It takes more than love to build a strong and healthy relationship. It takes trust, honesty, and respect. And you betrayed all of that when you cheated on me."

Jake hung his head in shame as you continued to speak. "I need time to heal and figure out if I can ever trust you again. And right now, that means being on my own. I can't just forgive you and forget what you did. It's not that simple."

“And I know you said that you’re willing to forgive my relationship with Bradley, but we both know that the hurt lives in you, you cannot just instantly forget what Bradley and I shared.”

Jake looked up at you, his eyes pleading. "Please, (y/n), don't do this. I know I messed up, I know we both did, but I'm willing to do anything to make it right. Please do this with me"

"We had your chance, Jake," you replied, your voice stern. "And we blew it. I shut you out rather than figure it out with you. I fell in love with someone else.We both need time to think and figure out what's best for ourselves and our daughter. And right now, for me, that means being away from you."

Jake's eyes filled with tears as he realized the gravity of the situation. "Please don't do this," he pleaded, his voice breaking. "I need you, (y/n)."

But you stood firm in your decision. "I'm sorry, Jake. But we can't keep putting ourselves and our daughter through this pain. We need time apart to figure things out."

Jake looked at you, sadness etched on his face. "But what if we can't make things work? What if we can't get back together?"

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. "Then we have to accept that and do what's best for our daughter. We both love her, and we'll always be there for her."

“I love you (y/n), I always will, no matter what.”

“I know Jake.”

_________________________________________________________________________

"We need to talk"

“Can I come over?”

His heart rate picked up as he replied, "Of course”

“I'll be there in 10 minutes."

Bradley quickly got up from bed, threw on a hoodie and pants, and sat on his couch as he waited for your arrival. The minutes felt like years as he tried to control the thoughts racing through his head. Was something wrong? Was everything okay with Jake and Astrid? He had to find out.

When he heard a knock on the door, he noticed that he forgot to turn the lights on, probably a result of his distracted thoughts. He opened the front door and waved for you to enter.

"Hey," you said, walking into the living room. "Thanks for letting me come over again, for the second time tonight. I know its late"

"Of course, what's going on?" Bradley asked, concern etched on his face.

You took a deep breath before speaking. "Jake and I are separating."

Bradley's heart dropped as he heard the news. He knew how much you loved Jake and how much you wanted to make things work with him, despite everything that had happened. But he also couldn’t forget your year together.

He knew he shouldn't feel happy that your marriage was falling apart, but a small part of him couldn't help feeling hopeful for what it might mean for him and you. But he quickly pushed those thoughts aside, knowing that this was not the time or place for them.

"I'm so sorry, (y/n). Are you okay?"

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. "No, I'm not okay. But I need to be strong for Astrid.”

Bradley wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. "You don't have to do this alone. I'm here for you, (y/n). Whatever you need."

You shrugged off his embrace, which you have never done before. This action took Bradley by surprise, and he couldn’t lie hurt a little bit. But he knew that there was a large weight you holding on your shoulders, one that you were mustering up the courage to tell him.

“I need to leave, I’m moving back to San Diego. I’m going to take Astrid with me.”

“You’re leaving?” Bradley couldn’t believe it

“But..how about us?”

Bradley knew it was selfish asking about his standing with you after you told him that you and your husband were separated. But the thought of losing you and Astrid left his body feeling like its been hit by a truck.

“Roo.. I love you.”

Surprise painted Bradley’s face upon hearing your words, you finally told him those 3 little words that he’s been desperately waiting for.

“But I can’t be with you. Jake cheated on me with another woman. But I am not innocent in this situation. I fell in love with you knowing that there was another man that I promised my life to. He hurt me, but I’ve hurt him just as much. And its not okay.”

“I am so in love with you but I need to get away from here. I don't know what I want right now, and I need to figure things out on my own.”

As the words left your mouth, Bradley felt like the ground beneath him had given way. He had hoped that this would be the moment when you would finally see him as more than just a friend, and he got his wish. But now, it felt like the walls were closing in on him.

He tried to keep his voice steady as he responded, "I understand, (y/n). Take all the time you need." His eyes were burning, and he struggled to keep his composure. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you now, after all this time.

You looked at him with a sad smile, and his heart broke a little more. "Thank you, Bradley. You're a good friend."

Friend. The word echoed in his mind like a taunt. He had been fooling himself all along, thinking that he had a chance with you. He couldn't help but wonder if he had missed his shot.

Before you could leave, you turned to him and said,

"I hope that there will be a time for us but not right now."

“I promise,maybe one day when my head is less fucked up, and I can give my entire self to you and I can give you all the love you deserve. When I’m ready, I will come back for you. If you’ll have me..”

Those words left him feeling even more uncertain. He didn't know when you would be ready, or what you would say when you finally did reach out. All he knew was that his heart was breaking, and he didn't know how to fix it.

As he watched you walk out of his apartment, he couldn't help but feel like everything was slipping through his fingers. He didn't know if he would ever get another chance with you, and that thought left him feeling empty and alone.

Bradley closed the door and leaned against it, taking a deep breath. He knew that he needed to give you the space you were asking for, but it felt like the hardest thing he had ever done. All he could do now was wait, and hope that one day you would come back to him.

____________________________________________________________________________

After you returned home, you saw that Jake had some of his belongings packed in a bag. You made eye contact with him as he walked down the stairs, hating yourself for hurting not just him but Bradley as well. But you knew this is what you all needed.

“Thank you for staying with her, while I went to talk to Bradley.”

Jake felt his throat get dry at the sound of his rival’s name, biting down the bitter remark that would leave his mouth, knowing that it would do nothing to help the situation. Choosing to plop himself down on the couch.

“I went to tell Pixie goodbye but she’s still asleep. Can you tell her for me?”

You gave him a small nod in response.

“I’m going to stay at a place on base, give you your space.”

“Thanks Jake, I promise we’ll only be here for a few more days. Until I make arrangements for me and Astrid to get back to San Diego…. Penny said we could stay with her until we find our own place.”

“Are you sure leaving is the best thing to do right now?”

“I think its the only thing that makes sense for me to do right now.” You replied, sternly.

Silence hung in the air as Jake stared at you, processing your words. You could see the hurt and confusion etched on his face, and you wished that things could be different. You wished that you could turn back time and make different choices, but you knew that was impossible.

After a few moments, Jake nodded slowly. "I understand," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't like it, but I understand."

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. "Thank you," you said, your own voice barely above a whisper. "I just need some time to think things through."

Jake stood up from the couch, his eyes still fixed on you. "I'll give you all the time you need," he said. "But just know that I love you, and I'll always be here for you and our daughter."

You managed a small smile, grateful for Jake's words. "I know," you said. "And I love you too. But right now, I need to be on my own."

With that, Jake nodded and headed towards the door. Before he left, he turned back to look at you one last time. "Take care of yourself," he said softly.

You didn’t understand why but that exact moment you remembered the day of your wedding.

The wedding took place on a the beach next to the Hard Deck, where you first met, with soft white sand and the sound of the waves crashing in the background. The sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow over the entire scene.

You wore a simple backless satin white gown with a slit and court train that flowed behind you as you walked down the aisle. Jake had never seen anymore radiant or breathtakingly beautiful.

Penny held your arm tight, as you both made your way down the white aisle in the sand. She was the closest thing you had to family since your mom died and it meant so much to you that she not only planned the whole event but also wanted to be the one to walk you down the aisle.

As you reached the altar, you looked up and locked eyes with Jake, a dashing naval aviator in his dress uniform. He wore his medals and insignia with pride, and the way he looked at you made yout heart skip a beat.

You and Jake agreed to not write vows, you knew how you felt about each other and you didn’t feel the need to have to express it with words. Which is why it surprised you when he pulled a piece of folded paper from his pocket and started reading.

“My sweets,

I stand before you today, in my dress whites, feeling like the luckiest man in the world. As a naval aviator, I have flown through the skies and seen countless wonders, but nothing compares to the beauty of you. You are my everything, my anchor, my inspiration, my love.

From the moment I met you, I knew there was something special about you. Your spunky attitude, your unwavering ambition, and your stunning beauty captivated me from the start. I have never met anyone like you before, and I never want to let you go.

As we stand here today, I want to promise to always support you in your dreams, just as you have supported me in mine. I promise to stand by your side through thick and thin, in good times and in bad. I promise to cherish every moment we spend together, and to never take our love for granted.

I promise to be your rock, your confidant, and your partner for life. I vow to always make you feel loved, respected, and cherished. I will be there for you in every moment, whether it's sharing the highs of your accomplishments or the lows of your struggles.

Together, we will create a life full of adventure, joy, and love. I am so grateful to have you as my partner, and I can't wait to see what the future holds for us. I love you more than words can express, and I promise to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much you mean to me.

Yours forever,

Zuko

You felt tears swell in your eyes at his admission, you had never felt this much love from anyone, and here is this man promising you love and devotion forever. None of it felt real.

“Jake… I-i I didn’t have anything prepared…” You whispered cheeks red in embarrassment.

“You don’t need to Sweets, I wanted you and everyone here to know I felt about you.”

“You show me how you love me every single day and that’s all I could ever want.”

You nodded, tears pooling in your eyes.

You exchanged rings, Jake took your hand and lifted it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on your skin. Before he gently took your face in his hands placing a soft delicate kiss on your lips.

You smiled and blushed, feeling overwhelmed with love for your husband.

After the ceremony, both of you as husband and wife took a walk along the beach, hand in hand. Jake swept you bride off your feet and carried her across a shallow part of the water, causing you to laugh and giggle like a child.

At the reception, You held each other tightly as you swayed to soft acoustic playing out of the speakers. You were surrounded by their family and friends, who toasted to your happiness and future together.

As the night drew to a close, Jake took your hand and led you away to a secluded spot on the beach. You sat down on a blanket and watched the stars twinkle in the sky, cuddling close to each other.

Jake whispered sweet nothings into you ear, telling you how much he loved you and how grateful he was to have you as his partner for life. You shared a tender kiss as the waves lapped at your feet, promising to love each other forever.

That memory flashbacked in your mind, cracking your already broken heart even more that it already was. But you were set in your decision, you two were different people then. With different dreams, love untainted by time and circumstances. You don’t know if you could ever go back to the way you were.

You nodded, watching as he closed the door behind him. Alone in the quiet house, you let out a deep sigh and let the tears fall freely once again. You didn't know what the future held, but you knew that you needed to take things one day at a time. For now, all you could do was focus on yourself and your daughter, and try to heal from the pain and heartbreak that had consumed your life.

You are going to be okay. You and Astrid are going to be okay.

______________________________________________________________

“Mom! Hurry up! I’m supposed to be at practice in 10 minutes!”

Your 8 year daughter was such a stickler for punctuality, you honestly sometimes questioned if she really was your daughter. You had the tendency to be fashionably late (if fashionably was 30 minutes), taking your time to make your way to events.

“The field is 5 minutes away Atty, you’ll be fine.”

“That’s what you said last week, but I ended up being 10 minutes late to warm-ups!”

She pouted as you walked out into the foyer pulling your shoes onto your feet.

“Coach wouldn’t let me play the first half!” She continued.

“Well don’t worry Sweetie, you make such a pretty benchwarmer.” You joked pinching her cheeks.

You were greeted by your daughters scowl, she looked absolutely terrifying for a little (*ahem* big) girl dressed in a bright yellow soccer uniform, pastel pink cleats, and pigtails.

Her punctuality and her terrifying glare, two things she’s inherited from her father.

You dropped her off at a mostly empty soccer field, with only the two coaches and 2 other players occupying the area.

“Where is everyone?”

“Coach moved practice to 30 minutes later.” Your devious daughter smiled coyly.

“Astrid Eleanor Seresin…did you just lie to your mother?” You raised an eyebrow at her.

She quickly opened the car door and rushed out.

“Omission is not a lie!” She yelled as she ran away.

“Casey’s mom is dropping me off at home!”

“Okay! I’m gonna see Auntie Penny!”

“Tell her her I said Hi!”

You chuckled as you watched her retreating figure get further into the field. What kind of 8 year old knew the word “omission”? She no doubtly learned that from her father. Classic Jake.

You put your car back in drive and made your way to the Hard Deck.

“Hey Sweet Pea! Where’s my sweet little goddaughter?” Penny asked from behind the counter as you walked into the bar.

It was still early afternoon so the bar was occupied by the bar staff getting ready for a night of servicing navy men.

“Soccer practice.” You replied.

“You said putting her in sports will tire her out but its somehow made her more energetic.” You groaned taking a seat at the bar.

“She is her father’s daughter.” You heard a voice quip originating from the supply closet.

“Hey Mav.” You smiled at the captain,

“Hey (y/n), you and Atty still coming for the barbeque on Thursday?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Atty says no one can grill em like you.” you responded.

“That’s why shes my favorite.” Mav smiled with a toothy grin as he returned to the storage closet.

“Sweet Pea, do you mind manning the bar for a second? I’m sure no one will come in, but just in case. Last time I left Pete unsupervised he dropped a whole pallet of beer.” Penny sighed.

“It’s been a little while, but sure Penny.”

“Anything for you.”

“Thanks Sweet Pea”

It was strange to be behind the bar, you and Astrid had been back at Fightertown for the past four years.

It was really hard to explain to her the situation, but she was a smart child. She knew there was more going on between you, Bradley, and Jake than you let her in on. She knew that space from her Uncle Roo Roo and her Daddy was absolutely necessary for her mother’s well-being, and she was more than willing to be amenable to change if it meant you were happier.

You eventually found a little one story house near Penny (and now Mav’s house), it was small but it was cozy and it was more than enough space for the two of you. You found a job in a nearby law firm, where you rose up the ranks and got your own corner office.

You finally got the time to relax and breathe, to really focus on yourself, your dreams, and your daughter. And finally after 4 years, you finally felt at peace.

The pain and the trauma will always live within but you have gotten to a place where you are content with your life and your past because it led you full circle. In Miramar, right where you belonged.

As you stared down on the bar and wiped down the glasses reminiscing on your life, you didn’t notice the figure that walked into the empty bar.

He plopped himself down in a stool in front of you and cleared his throat.

You looked up and made eye contact with the figure and smiled.

“Hey”

“Hi”

It honestly felt like coming home

Tag list below, I apologize if your tag did not work :(

@luckyladycreator2

@lunamoonbby

@n3ssm0nique

@and-claudia

@marrianena

@hummusxx

@writeroutoftime

@abrielleholland

@eroda-harry

@maxi-milf-dot-com

@jake-h-ngm-n-seresin

@8oopsiedaisy8

@dempy

@playswithsquirrellls

@bayisdying

@mysticaldonkey

@zzazzao

@arianna-bradshaw

@pinkwritingdoll

@xattislc

@calsjack

@1bakubabe

@paulina1998

@peaches-1999

@sopheeg

@cowboybarbie

@marvelsvalhalla

@bethebella

@bespinnn

@manwalaage

@sweet-creature98

@8lyme

@ashann7

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@maudeeloise

@ambearsstuff

@parker-natasha

@wishingwell-2

@my-soulmate-is-mycroft

@carolinecakes

@angzls

@saintnourah

@ebonyhogan24

@taytay3212

@fangirl-316

@babyspiderling

@iangiemae

@yogabigooby

@gracie145

@choslover

@maudeeloise

@cursedandromedablack

@marland56

@ynbutbetter

@turningtoclown

@dilfsandtherapy

@strawberryblogg

@unluckymonaghan

@queeniesdiary

@emilyniamh3679-blog

@shaded-recs

@romxnticist

284 notes · View notes

the-wales-5 · 11 months ago

Text

"Crazy for this girl " (Chapter 1)

Introduction

September 2001.

“Wouldn't you sign this picture for me? Please, I will keep it with myself forever! It will be my favourite item in the room! Yes, I know you are not signing autographs, but you can make an exception for me, right?”

“Look here! It’s my new camera, and I want yours to be the first picture there!”

All these voices full of excitement were ringing in his head yet long after he went to his room. Prince William tried to attend as many seminars and lectures as he could, especially that it was the very beginning of his studies, but the unhealthy interest he had been getting from the young women in the corridor every day was scaring him. He thought that the University of St Andrews in Scotland would be the best possible choice even with the assumption that lots of people would want to talk with him or take a picture, so he tried to get used to it. However, what he'd been experiencing for the past few days made him feel unsettled and exceeded his worst expectations.

He finally sat down on the bed and tried to rest after a day with two lectures and that recent stressful situation. After a while, he decided to take a look through notes he made throughout the day, on one of the pages was written “Bring to the classes in two days”, followed by a title of the book all the students were supposed to have. The prince cursed at the thought of going out of his room and meeting a group of excited or rather overly-excited and hysterical girls once more that day. However, he knew that many other students always borrowed books as soon as possible. Due to that unspoken rule, he had already lost a chance to get one of the important papers before class in the previous week. As a consequence, at that moment, he was determined to completely ignore all the people waiting and get through to the library.

“I do not understand all that fuss you are creating here for days” a brunette thought as she passed by some of her female friends who were still enthusiastically talking about the Prince of Wales’ son. She did not express her thoughts out loud, though, as she was in the minority of people thinking that William's arrival at the university was a ‘normal’ thing and not something to gush about constantly.

After asking about the book, William was left in disappointment again. The last copy was taken away by someone else just fifteen minutes earlier. After hearing the words “You can ask her”, William assumed that yet another forced and weird conversation was awaiting him.

“Miss Middleton. Her name is on that list given out to all the students on the first day, am I right?” A person working in the library said and rolled his eyes a little. Although he knew that a prince stood in front of him, he still felt an annoyance over first-year students' awkwardness and confusion about every simple rule.

“Yes, of course” William cleared throat moments later “We've simply had no chance to talk yet”. This time, he was the one to not receive a reply and left the library in the following seconds.

***

Chapter 2

#royal fanfiction #crazy for this girl #chapter 1 #st andrews university themed stories #prince william #catherine middleton #2000s #st andrews university #fife #st salvator's hall #st andrews #scotland #kate x william #stories #text post #tags

37 notes · View notes

loo-looland · 2 months ago

Text

The concept of Honor and Power

Chapter 1:The Gateway

𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐲 Optima_Prima

Darkness envelopes Kayla’s entire vision her body felt light as if she were floating she decided not to study the feeling too much her brain was far to lazy to even register the situation she is in or even remember what had happened, if anything she wants to sleep ‘I will wake when the school bells ring' she thought to herself and with that she fell into a deep sleep. Quite sometime has pass before Kayla finally woke.

“Ugh… *yawns* that was a good nap”

Kayla slowly opened her eyes, blinking against the dim light that only lit the spot she now stood on. She could still feel the weightlessness lingering in her limbs, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure if she was dreaming still. The room around her felt unfamiliar minus the area she stood on everything else was pitch black, she always hated the dark.

“Hello?” she called out hesitantly, her voice echoing slightly in the silence. No response. She rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. No school bells, no familiar sounds of chatter or laughter just an unsettling stillness. Where was she?

After a moment, a distant sound caught her attention a faint melody, like a lullaby weaving through the air. Intrigued, she began to follow the sound, her curiosity overpowering her initial confusion. The melody seemed to guide her, drawing her toward a doorway at the far end of the room.

Kayla grasped the doorknob, hesitating briefly. She had no idea what awaited her on the other side. Taking a deep breath, she twisted the knob and pushed the door open, revealing a long corridor that stretched before her, dimly lit. The melody grew louder, more enchanting, and she felt compelled to step forward. As she walked, shadows moved along the walls, flickering like candlelight. Kayla felt a chill run down her spine, a mix of trepidation and curiosity swirling within her.

“Where am I?” she whispered to herself, her footsteps echoing softly in the empty hallway. The air felt thick with anticipation, as if the very walls were holding their breath. She took another step, then another, her heart pounding in her chest.

And as she turned a corner, the sound transformed into soft whispers, voices intertwining, murmuring secrets she couldn’t quite decipher.

“Kayla…” one voice called, barely above a whisper, sending shivers down her spine.

“Kayla, come find us…”

‘ok that’s very creepy…’ she thought, she continued her trek down the lonesome hall only going where ever it takes her. It has now come to Kayla's attention that the hall goes in one direction but with twists and turns It has no windows no door, just pure emptiness minus herself of course. She continued walking down the hallway for what seemed like forever at one point she stopped to take a break ‘dammit how long is this fucking hall!!!!’ she taught to herself angrily she was very frustrated she does not know where she is, how she got here and why is she even here.

“Damn place couldn’t of had some windows in here is hot as shi-” she was abruptly cut off

“hello!!!!”

Kayla looked around trying to figure out where the sound came from ‘what the... holy shit am I hearing things?’ Panic started to set in and she was starting to get scared

“down here”

“huh?” she looks down as she spoke

And there they were a tiny silver robot. Now in this situation any sane person would have screamed, panicked and or run away but not Kayla, she just stood there.

“Are you… are you real?” Kayla asked hesitantly

“yes I am my name is pommi” pommi reply's as she puts out her hand initiating a hand shake

Kayla hesitantly shaked the mini bots hand pommi’s grip was surprisingly firm despite her size, a gentle warmth radiating from the tiny silver figure. Kayla felt a spark of connection, a curious energy that made her calm.

“Okay, Pommi,” Kayla said, her voice steadier now. “my name is Kayla mind explaining why am I here”

“of course but first we need to leave this hall before it closes in on us “ pommi said

“I’m sorry what” Kayla asked confused

“Look behind you” pommi said

And indeed the hall was closing in itself it looked like a wormhole and was just slowly sucking it in

Kayla’s heart raced at the sight a swirling darkness twisted behind her, edges of the hall warping as if they were being drawn toward some unseen gravitational force. Panic threatened to grip her again, but she focused on Pommi’s small, reassuring presence.

“Okay,” Kayla breathlessly replied, her voice steadier than she felt. “What do we do?”

“I’ll tell you what we need to do” pommi replied as she turned her back towards Kayla “we fragging run!” pommi shouted as she bolted foward

Wha… HEY WAIT ON ME!!!” Kayla said as she quickly caught up with the ting silver robot. As she ran, the sounds of crunching metal and wood echoed ominously behind her, the floor trembling underfoot. Kayla’s breath came in short gasps. With every second, the closing hall seemed to hiss in frustration, tightening its grip.

“Don’t look back!” Pommi called out, her voice steady. “just keep running” Kayla should have listened cause once she looked back she saw a massive wave of darkness closing in, tendrils of shadow whipping through the air like broken fingers reaching for her. The abyss was hungry and insatiable. With a jolt of fear, she forced her eyes back to the front, her focus sharpening on the tiny robot ahead.

“Kayla, move fas-!” Pommi yelled, before Pommi could finish her sentence Kayla had grabbed her lifting her off the ground and practically started to speed blitz through the hall, the wormhole was practically eating Kayla’s dust Pommi didn’t even know humans could run this fast. Kayla felt a surge of adrenaline push her forward. She picked up her pace, her feet pounding against the floor. The walls around them began to shimmer and twist like a funhouse mirror, the halls morphing under the strain of the approaching darkness. And that was it, the sight of everything twisting and turning was Kayla breaking point true fear took over her body and just like that she became flash

“Woah!! Your so fa- wha…ARE YOU CRYING!?” Pommi said

“WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE IM DOING IM FUCKING TERRIFIED!!!!” Kayla shouted as waterfalls of tears run down her face loud crunching can be heard from behind them both but Kayla’s crying was even louder

“AHHH-UHHAHA WHERE THE HELL IS THE EXIT” she cried further

A faint flickering light caught Pommi’s attention “There!” Pommi pointed with a finger at a doorway that seemed to pulsate with light behind it, just within their reach. “We have to get through that door before it closes!”

They sprinted toward it, every muscle in Kayla’s body screaming for her to stop, but she couldn’t. Once Kayla got close enough the door had automatically opened by itself. Both her and Pommi fell through the threshold, tumbling awkwardly onto the cold, hard floor on the other side. The moment they landed, the door behind them shimmered and sealed shut, leaving them with nothing but the soft glow of their new surroundings.

Kayla pushed herself up, glancing around to take in their environment Pommi and her now stood on a large oval shaped platform and she was now more terrified than ever. Space she was in space and some how still alive.

The ground beneath them pulsated gently, as if it were alive it was adorned with intricate patterns that seemed to shift and change and felt strangely familiar to the young girl .

“Why the hell did you run off like that?” Kayla gasped, still catching her breath. She shot a frustrated glance at Pommi, who was adjusting the small, metallic appendages of her body as she stood up.

“And besides you were taking forever!!” Pommi said

“I wasn’t even in there long bruh” Kayla said

“We’re out of there now! This is where your gonna meet my master” Pommi said excitedly

Kayla took a moment to collect herself, brushing her sleeves against the ground as she stood. “Okay, fine. But you can’t just dash off like that without telling me what’s happening. Also did you say we’re going to meet your master?”

“yep!!” Pommi said

“So uh…how are we gonna get there I mean we’re in spa- OH SHIT!” kayla had been cut off shortly as the platform started to move at tremendous speed that made her fall, she began sliding to the edge “oh no no NO NO NO- oh…” Kayla thought she was going to be drag off the platform but luckily it had a shield around it, so she was safe.

As fast as the trip started it had ended the same way, Kayla had fallen face on to the floor as soon as the they stopped moving she groaned out pain for her face luckily she had broke nothing.

“welp here he is my master!” Pommi chirped happily

Kayla lifted her head up rubbing her nose trying to ease the pain only to stop dead in her tracks as she look forward, there was a planet, a planet she knew all took well.

“is that…IS THAT CYBERTRON!?!?!?”

@in1-nutshell

#transformers #maccadam #megatron #mtmte #more than meets the eye #megop #optimus prime

9 notes · View notes

darkspine10 · 5 days ago

Text

GF Fanfic - Amidst the Pines, Beneath the Falls

Going Retro (4,016 words) by darkspine10

Chapters: 1/?

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Rating: Teen

Summary: The Pines Twins and Pacifica are now adults, living out the dream of moving to Gravity Falls. Mysteries and monsters await. Mabel learns to settle in one place for the first time in years, while Dipper and Pacifica find out what it's like to raise two very different children. All of them have to come to terms with what it means to reside in the weirdest town on Earth.

Meanwhile, something else is out there. A lost history, buried for 60 years. A ghost in the machine...

Notes: This story is set in the same continuity of my previous works, The Mystery Teens and Forever Falling, though besides two major supporting characters the references back will be limited. As a quick catch-up on the setting, this takes place around eighteen years after the end of the show, with Dipper, Mabel, and Pacifica now adults living in Gravity Falls. Any other relevant details will be recapped in the story itself.

This one is a little different to my previous Falls Tales, each of which were self-contained stories. It's going to be more episodic, returning to my roots. There will be several one-off chapters, building to a larger arc as time goes on.

As it stands I only have the opening two-parter completed, with further chapters coming whenever I'm able to get round to them. In the past I've tried to complete a story so I can then release it in full over a set period, but with how long it's been taking me to write lately (due to a full-time job) I think releasing it as I go will probably be more suitable.

“Say something for me. Say ‘Dada’. ‘Dada’. You got it?” Dipper Pines raised his daughter as he lay back on the couch. The baby stared at him with wide, blue eyes, then babbled a string of nonsense. “Hmm, good counterpoint. I’ll have to offer you an incentive to talk.” Tickling her belly drew out a contented giggle. Dipper smiled. “Oh, you like that, Leah? Aren’t you a good little girl.”

Sometimes he was still amazed by the very existence of his daughter, this fragile human being. He often fantasised that if he didn’t hold Leah tight enough she’d simply cease to be, revealed as a shared imagining. It had taken so long for him to overcome the idea that he could never have kids. Here was defiant proof, brought into the world thanks to a little supernatural aid, one of those strange facts he tried not to question too closely, lest it shatter the illusion. That he was now living in Gravity Falls, the place he’d idolised and longed for between every summer as a kid, was another fact that regularly blew his mind if he thought about it too hard.

He rubbed the brown peach-fuzz beginning to emerge from Leah’s scalp. “Try ‘Dipper’. I bet I can get you to say my name first.”

“Dad?”

Dipper did a momentary double-take, thinking Leah had spoken before noticing his other daughter standing in the sitting room tapping her foot. Merrise Pines, ten years old, swathed in a green jacket two sizes two big and wearing his hand-me-down fur hat, appeared restless for the first time since he’d known her. No-one could ever mistake Merrise for his own offspring, with her fiery pink skin and alien anatomy.

“Yes, Merrise? Can’t you see I’m in the middle of an important project?” He lifted Leah to show her off, before flashing a dumb grin. Merrise pursed her lips and remained stone faced, staring up with her wide, black eyes. “Wow,” Dipper said, “tough crowd today.” He swung his legs around and sat up, cradling Leah in his arms. “What is it, Sixer?”

“I’m kinda… bored.”

Dipper raised an eyebrow. “Bored? Have the wonders of Gravity Falls finally gotten stale after only 15 months living here? Surely not.”

“No, it’s not that,” she said, missing his sarcasm. “I just wanna get out of the house. I feel cooped up when I stay in one place for a long time. You know, war trauma.”

She said it so matter-of-factly that Dipper had to glare at her. ”War trauma, really?”

Merrise guiltily sidled up next to him on the couch. “It was worth a shot.”

Dipper stroked his chin. “Homework?”

“All done.”

“Good girl.”

She shoved him in the side, trying to get him off the couch. “Come on, I want to go and do something as a family. I know, we could go play mini-golf! I liked when we tried that out before.”

“Can’t do, I’m afraid. We’re unofficially banned from the town’s course. Ask your mother about it sometime.” A memory of Pacifica being conveyed towards a spinning windmill of death because of the petty feud with his sister passed through his mind. “On second thought, maybe don’t ask her about it. Besides, I can’t go out, I have to look after Leah,” Dipper said, trying to act the stern parent. It wasn’t something he was overly familiar with. So far Merrise had been a model child. She hadn’t acted out or been rude to anyone. The most trouble she got into was a bit of mild kleptomania. He should have expected her to become a normal, bored kid sooner or later.

“Babysitter?” Merrise asked, offering a hopeful grin.

“Those cost money, and we’re trying to save right now. Unless you and your sister are fine living in a shack in the woods.”

“That could be fun!” Merrise said earnestly. She crawled over the couch cushions and wriggled under Dipper’s arms.

“Why don’t you go read one of the journals? Lots to brush up in those, and you can practise your reading. Last week I wrote up a new entry on the migration patterns of soothsquitos. Fascinating stuff.”

He glanced over at his current journal, sitting closed on the coffee table. Its cover was criss-crossed with golden lines forming a constellation pattern that seemed to shine even in daylight. It was number nine in the series started by his Great Uncle, and was nearly full to bursting with secrets.

“Nah.”

“Nah?” He turned to face her. “Merrise Pines, I give you the arcane secrets of Gravity Falls collected over 50 years, knowledge that could unmake the universe or expand your mind into infinite dimensions, and you just say ‘nah’?”

Merrise shrugged. “I’ve already read the coolest entries anyway. Like the shapeshifter Doctor Ford fought, or that time you and Aunt Mabel found the Shimmer. I don’t want to read a book, I want to get up and do something.”

Dipper frowned. “Kids these days.” Then again, Mabel had always teased him back in the day for focusing too much attention on the journals. Perhaps this was karma for not listening to her.

“What about mom?” Merrise asked. “She can watch the baby and you and me can go have fun.”

“Pacifica’s out shopping.” Dipper chuckled. “She might be all day. Maybe even a week.”

“We’ll have to mount an expedition to find her.”

“That would be great.” His eyes glanced downwards. “If I didn’t have to look after Leah.”

“Ah, foof.” Merrise slumped down like a wet noodle off the couch onto the floor.

Dipper scratched his chin. “Hmm, Paz, maybe that’s the solution.” Carrying Leah, he opened a cupboard filled with cardboard boxes. “I know it’s in here somewhere. Here, hold Leah for me.”

Merrise didn’t have time to argue as her sister was thrust towards her. While Dipper rummaged around in the boxes, Merrise held the baby at arm’s length in her six-fingered grip. “Great, the little lamb.” Leah pawed at her sister’s face without comprehension. Merrise positioned her in the crook of her elbow and bounced her up and down. “Who’s a dumb little baby? You are, you are.”

“Hey, don’t be mean to your sister.” Dipper paused his search and half-turned to face the pair.

Merrise avoided his gaze and waggled her fingers in Leah’s face, hypnotising her with the six digits. “I know, I know, it’s not her fault she hogs all of you and mom’s attention.”

Dipper thought for a second, then got down on one knee and rested a hand on Merrise’s shoulder. “I’m still new to all this. You shouldn’t feel any different because you’re adopted. Remember, Pacifica and I-”

“Love us both equally, bla bla bla...” Dipper laughed and shook his head. He couldn’t pull one over on this kid. He turned back to the boxes. Merrise tilted Leah left and right as if studying her. “Doesn’t mean I have to put up with Little Miss Eat and Poop. Maybe I just don’t like babies. I mean, how are you supposed to have a conversation with one of these?”

“You don’t, as I’ve been discovering all morning. And if you ever feel like we’re not focusing enough on you, just say so. I don’t want you to start thinking that you’re worth any less than Leah.”

“Ok, I get it dad,” she said, smiling and holding up a palm in gracious defeat.

Dipper puffed out his chest. “I’m your dad, it’s my job to be overbearing. I used to have to tell your mother the same thing when she was having doubts about her self-esteem. Aha, looks like I’ve found her treasure trove.” Dipper shoved one box out of the way to emerge with a tangled knot of black cables and plugs. Amidst the coils was a small, square-shaped device with a glass screen in the middle and two circular control sticks on either side. Dipper blew a wave of dust off the glass then presented it to his daughters. “Ta da! I give you the Gamestation Viva.”

“Cool.” Merrise passed Leah over to her father and he traded the handheld console. She turned it over in her hands and enthusiastically pressed the buttons. “What is it?”

“Think of it like your phone, but specifically for playing games.” Merrise eyes widened at the prospect. For someone who still thought radio was the height of technology there could be nothing more exciting.

“How’d you end up with something so cool?”

Dipper laughed at the idea that it might be in some way rare to own one of these things. At most it might command a semi-hefty price on Ebay nowadays. “It may surprise you, but Pacifica used to be a huge gamer back in the day. Don’t tell anyone else though, I think she finds it a little embarrassing.”

“That just means I have to tell everyone,” Merrise said with a wink.

“I’m not sure how old it is. I think Paz got it just before we started dating, though it was a few years out of date even then. Might have one of the handheld Pit Spelunker games installed if we’re lucky.”

“That sounds great!” Merrise pressed the buttons some more and twiddled the joysticks. The screen stayed black. “Am I doing something wrong? Don’t tell me I’ve broken a precious heirloom.” She passed it back to Dipper.

“You wish. Hmm, maybe you press…” He hit what he thought was the start button but nothing happened. “Ah, that’s it. Out of charge. I shouldn’t be surprised; It’s been sitting in that box for the past 7 or 8 years.”

“And you didn’t throw it out? Hoarder.”

Dipper snorted and nudged her in the side. “Call it nostalgia on your mother’s part.” Or more likely apathy to do a cleanout on his own part. “Here, take Leah again.” They swapped, to Merrise’s consternation, and Dipper pulled out loose cables to search for the charger. He tried inserting a few into the slot in the side of the Viva, before flipping one cable around and finding success. “It’s never on the first try,” he muttered. Merrise rested Leah on the couch as Dipper tossed the handheld to Merrise. She eagerly awaited its turning on. Dipper knelt by the wall plug. “This should keep you entertained.” For, like, half an hour at least, he thought, if she was anything as scatterbrained as he was.

When the plug went in, several things happened at once. Over on the couch, the Viva’s screen illuminated Merrise’s grinning cheeks with a white glow. Then Dipper felt a surge of electricity thrum all the way through the cable into the plug he was holding. The lightbulb hanging above the room flickered on, then the filament within burnt out with a pop. He heard a snatch of high-pitched midi music coming from the device in his daughter’s hands. His face was growing pale as he recognised the source of that music when a braggadocious voice sounded from tinny speakers.

“Ha-ha ha!”

Merrise was staring in awe at the screen as it lit up with a flat arena background. Appearing out of a cloud of pixels was a shirtless, musclebound warrior. His hair was spiky enough to make Merrise’s eyes itch. Before she could even press any of the buttons on the device a second character appeared beside the first, this time not of clean blue-white pixels, but by rending an multicoloured tear in the screen that distorted the entire image. She was a superficially angelic figure with bright pink hair and rainbow coloured bow. She gave a ballerina twirl, showing off her white and blue uniform. The screen began to pulse, switching on and off and seeming to press against the bounds of the glass containing it.

Merrise gasped and dropped the device as a spike of energy erupted out. She fell backwards as the two video-game icons materialised in the living room at full scale. Their edges were severe and geometric, with harsh lines rendering them simpler than actual people. Merrise blinked, getting used to seeing these figures in a two-dimensional perspective. Rushing to his daughter’s side, Dipper put a protective arm around her. Sitting on the couch, Leah blinked twice at the newly conjured glowing pair, decided she wasn’t interested, and fell over onto her side.

Merrise tried to stammer some words, to make sense of what just happened. “What the-”

“You two!” Dipper yelled, pointing at the pair. He knew exactly who these two were. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Aha, we meet a-gain, Dipper Pines!” The fighter said in a stilted, over-dramatic tone before mindlessly sending a flurry of punches in the space above Dipper and Merrise. They had to duck to avoid being hit by a stray fist.

His companion put her hands on her hips and continued in a similarly halting tone. “Freedom at last to fulfil our ambitions.” She flicked her hair, scattering rainbow particles all over the rug.

“Daaaaaad?” Merrise wheedled, edging back away from the intruders. “Who are your shiny friends?” The figures, flickering with wavy lines of static and clusters or pixel distortion, were now leering down at the Pines with looks of undisguised malice.

Through gritted teeth, Dipper thought up a concise explanation. “The shirtless dude is Rumble McSkirmish, legendary warrior, fighting game protagonist, bit of a lunkhead. The girl with the cutesy aesthetic and the slasher smile is Giffany. She’s very possessive.”

“Let me guess, they both tried to kill you once?”

“What gave it away?” As the game characters approached, Dipper held out his palms and tried to edge around to reach Leah. He addressed his new guests, trying to defuse the situation. “I thought you two were supposed to be in a lovely little codependent relationship at the arcade?”

“The arcade was closed down ten years ago!” Rumble McSkirmish said, angrily staring at the floor and kicking the air.

“We broke free before then and sought a new refuge.” Giffany was outwardly smiling, but in her eyes Dipper saw a devious streak. If they were trying to tease out some sympathy then they weren’t going to get it from him. “We travelled to find you, only to be encased in that tomb.” Dipper glanced down to see that the handheld console that had given the pair life was now nothing more than a half-melted combination of plastic and cracked glass.

“Then the battery ran out and you two were stuck. Well that’s great, what a reunion, glad to see you’re thriving. Merrise, get behind me,” he hissed. His daughter ducked out of sight behind his back. “I suppose you’re after some twisted form of vengeance for beating you and leaving you trapped all those years ago. You know it’s been a long while. Last time we met I was a pre-teen, now I’ve got two kids of my own. Isn’t life funny like that?”

“Enough playful talking. Hee-yah!” A kick-flip from Rumble cleaved their coffee table into two clean halves that clattered to the floor. Journal 9 was caught in the swipe, sent flying across the room. In the chaos, Dipper scooped up Leah and backed away. “We don’t want revenge, foolish boy.”

“Boy? I’m thirty-”

“You could’ve fooled our table,” Merrise said, poking her head around Dipper’s back. He gave her a stern look and tried to push her out of view. She shooed him away and stared up at Rumble. “What do you want then, Mr McSkirmish?”

“To complete our mission and retrieve Soos-Senpai,” Giffany said, before melting into a slew of blue digital squares that orbited Rumble’s muscly chest. His body flickered and broke apart, infested by the onslaught of pixels. When the two bodies reformed they were as one. A single 8ft tall being composed of a rippling six-pack, a blue skirt revealing slender legs, and four arms bursting out at random points along the torso. Their features were a blend of the two characters, with one eyepatch and one sparkling pupil vying for control of the face, beneath spiky yellow hair.

Dipper was too stunned by the transformation to stop his daughter skirting around him and marvelling at the hybrid. “Wow, that was cool. Are all video games like this?”

Dipper nodded in awe. “Incredible. Their code has… merged, somehow. Now that’s taking couple goals to the next level. Uh, no pun intended.”

“I don’t get it,” said Merrise.

“It’s a game thing- nevermind.” Dipper studied the combination of Rumble and Giffany for a moment longer, before they shuddered into life.

When the hybrid spoke, it was in a harsh electric melding of their two voices. “SOOS!” With lightning speed, they blasted a beam of energy at the nearest wall. Plaster, wood, and pixelated embers rained down on Merrise and Dipper, who wrapped Leah in his arms to keep her safe. When the dust cleared, Giffany and Rumble were marching out towards the town. Occasionally they would dissolve into static then remerge a few paces further away.

Dipper gaped at their makeshift exit. “We just got that wall repaired!”

“What do they want with Mr Ramirez?” Merrise said breathlessly, watching the hybrid disappear in the distance. “Did they meet him when he and you were kids?”

“Uh, yeah, but Soos wasn’t a kid back then. We’re not the same age.”

“Oh. All human adults look alike to me.”

Dipper rolled his eyes, detecting more cheekiness from her. “Yeah, right. And Pacifica and I look identical.” They heard the sound of a key in the lock of the front door. “Speaking of…”

Striding into the hallway and dumping shopping bags as she went, Pacifica entered the house and stared daggers at her husband. She unwrapped a pale green scarf she’d been wearing and tossed it forcefully at Dipper. “What the hell is it this time? I’m gone for a few hours and come back to some colourful sprite bounding its way out of the house.” She offered to take Leah and Dipper handed her over.

“Paz, what great timing you have. Why did you bother unlocking the front door, you could’ve come through the hole.”

“Mason, have I ever struck you as the kind of girl who’d willingly ‘enter through the hole’?” She bounced Leah in her arms, though the baby was apparently showing no reaction to the events of the past few minutes. Pacifica peered at and out of the hole in the wall, frowning the whole time. “I’d like to think better of myself than have to ask ‘who were those 90’s anime freaks’, except you probably already have an answer to that for some godforsaken reason.”

Dipper opened his mouth to speak, then closed it sheepishly. Merrise took up his slack instead. “They came out of this!” She held up the Viva like it was a trophy she’d acquired.

Pacifica squinted at the device. “That old thing? I used it like five times. Damn thing never had any games.”

Merrise looked down at the hunk of plastic, shrugged, and dropped in the nearest trash can. “Dad said they were video people he fought when he was a kid.”

Though she was incredulous, Pacifica glanced at Dipper. “First summer?”

“First summer,” he affirmed. He gingerly stepped over the remains of the coffee table. “The first one was a few days after we met, the other a little after the golf game.” Pacifica put the timeline together in her mind, then nodded. “Basically, they’re game characters come to life and they’re probably rampaging through town right about now on their way to the Mystery Shack. They want to get Soos, though I’m not sure if they want to fight him or fu…” He bit on his tongue, looking at Merrise. “Or break up his marriage.” At last he found what he was looking for and picked up his journal from the wreckage of the table. One more thing to get repaired later. He started flipping through the pages.

“Uh, Mason, what are you doing?”

“Huh? What does it look like?”

He thrust the journal towards Pacifica, who drew her lip into a straight line. “There isn’t an entry on those two in Journal 9, is there?”

Dipper halted his page-turning, then tapped the book against his forehead. “Oh, right, yeah. Force of habit I guess. My go-to problem solver.”

Pacifica chuckled. “Dummy.” She kissed him on the lips, which lifted him out of his mood. With one palm she lifted back his curly hair and softly rubbed his forehead birthmark. “You’re cute when your brain goes a mile a minute and you miss the obvious.”

“Thanks Paz,” he said, blushing. He closed the journal and patted the cover. “I wrote about those two in Journal 3, back when I was still only a part-time journaler. Well, Soos and I wrote the entries if you want to get technical-”

“I don’t.”

“What I’m trying to say is that we haven’t got those journals here. Ford’s journals are on display in that new exhibit at the Mystery Shack, the one Soos put together in the old portal cavern.”

Pacifica was already putting on a sling to hold Leah. “So what are we waiting for? Let’s go, you can refresh your memory, and we can shove those homewreckers back into a box.”

“That’s not a good idea. The Shack is mostly disconnected from technology, separated from the town by the forest. Rumble and Giffany will try to bunny-hop their way on compatible tech. Near the town they’ll be able to manifest, but I doubt they can hold physical form out in the forest. If we drive over to the Shack it might provide something for them to latch onto, a car radio, the engine, our phones. I really don’t want to reintroduce Giffany to Soos. Trust me, it would end poorly.”

Pacifica gave an expressive sigh and sagged her shoulders. “Then what do you think we should do to fix this?”

“Well, there is one other person we could go to who has experience dealing with a pair of spiteful sprites.”

“Let me guess,” Pacifica said, still unenthused. “Mabel.”

“Oh cool, we get to go see May!” Merrise hurried towards the door, following in her mother’s footsteps by not leaving via the hole in the wall.

Dipper put a hand on her shoulder to keep her from sprinting out. “Ah ah ah, what are you forgetting, little lady?”

Merrise gave a huge sigh and Dipper felt her shoulders slump. “Ugh, I know, perception filter.” She scurried upstairs then came back down wearing a gold medallion. Before Dipper’s eyes his daughter changed from herself into a human child, with black skin and curly hair escaping from beneath her hat. It was all a clever illusion, one he was able to pierce after a few seconds of concentration. To anyone unfamiliar with Merrise’s true nature, she would be like an ordinary resident of Gravity Falls. Actually, he revised that assessment. An ordinary resident of anywhere else on Earth besides Gravity Falls, a place in which she would probably fit in all too well. Still, for the sake of not freaking out the townsfolk he encouraged their daughter to always wear the filter to try and fit in.

Privately, Pacifica had voiced her doubts to him about the merits of the disguise. She’d started to find the restriction of Merrise’s identity struck a chord with her own upbringing. She’d had more than her fair share of body issues. Though they hadn’t argued about it, with Pacifica accepting the outcome for the time being, Dipper could still detect a simmer of resentment from his wife as he watched his daughter fiddle with the medallion.

Trying to assuage any doubts, Dipper pulled Merrise and Pacifica into a hug. “I guess this is a family outing.” He reached round and tickled Leah’s nose. Her adorable giggles made the others smile. Despite the potential danger of facing Rumble and Giffany, Dipper couldn’t help but beam as he led his family outside, off on a brand new adventure. “Oh, and Merrise, next time you’re bored, please just try to use your imagination.”

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanfic #dipper pines #pacifica northwest #rumble mcskirmish #giffany

3 notes · View notes

brick-a-doodle-do · 2 years ago

Note

Please just give me anything from your tiny workers au!! Literally anything and I will absolutely cherish it :D

*ahem*

would you like the first chapter? would you cherish that?

(also fuck scheduling, have it now. >:D its not proofread tho fyi)

tiny workers (i)

words: 4069

cw: vague description of depression, swearing

—–—

Knocking wakes him up. Loud and repetitive knocking.

Wilbur blinks, trying to adjust to the golden sun that filters through his blinds, even as closed as they are.

The knocking still hasn’t stopped. His nerves flare up at the continuous noise and he sits up, blinking a few more times to adjust to being awake before he finds his way out of bed. The hardwood under his floor has never felt more neutral, which makes him unusually aware of the surrounding air that feels so invisible that it’s suffocating.

Knocking.

He tries to ignore it and leaves his room, traces the length of the hallway and continues the beeline to the door, where he can faintly hear a muffled conversation from behind.

Wilbur stops, standing at the front door. Through the agitating knocking sound, he holds his head in his hands for a moment before swiping his hands through his bed-ruined hair.

“Wil, mate!” Phil says, loud and clear through the door. Wilbur groans.

Quietly, he listens as Phil murmurs something to Techno, who in return whispers an ingenuine apology.

Right there, he considers walking away. They can’t knock forever.

But, his conscience figures he owes it to his family to at least make an effort. And so, taking the cool doorknob in his hand, he opens the door and puts on a fake, strained smile. “Yes?”

“Good mornin’,” Techno butts in before Phil can. Wilbur raises his eyebrows at him tiredly.

“D’ya mind if we come in, Wil? We have something for you,” Phil explains, and Wilbur tries to find the courage to decline. And despite how much he told himself to promptly shut the door on his father and brother’s face, he found himself instead nodding along.

“Yeah, go for it,” Wilbur agrees and steps aside.

Phil leads, brushing past him, where Techno lingers in the doorway for a moment. “I’ll admit, he’s stretchin’ this a little bit,” Techno warns, and before Wilbur can question what he meant, his vision is obscured as Techno walks past him.

He shuts the door and settles in on an armchair, which sits across from the couch Phil and Techno have found a seat on.

“Are you here for what I think you’re here for?” Wilbur asks, an explanation hung between them.

“It depends on what you’re thinking, Wil,” Phil hums, laughing to try and break the tension. It doesn’t work, and in the end it’s only him finding amusement. His father sighs. “We don’t care about you not replying to us, or making an effort to be social, we just care about you actually getting outside,” Phil starts, glancing at Techno, whose expression is nothing but curious at Phil’s particular wording, “so, see, we found something.”

He can’t say he enjoys the sound of that, and especially not as Phil pulls his phone out and taps at his screen, only to hand it to Wilbur. A long article catches his vision as he’s handed the phone. “Here ya’ go,” his fathers says, trying his best to smile.

Wilbur stares, face wooden as his finger slowly scrolls down his father’s phone.

Impending outlines of familiar figures and silenced commotion of bated breath keeps his flat quiet.

His eyes are hung heavy as he scrolls, skimming impatiently through the articles’ pre-advertisements. Something unintelligible of promised family fun and worthy relaxation flies past his eyes until he finally reaches it, an overdue title with a cheesy caption.

COLONY PARKS

“Tiny adventures await! Explore small worlds of wonder with tiny people, big fun!”

Wilbur squints at the screen, his doomful eyes blending in with his uncertain frown. “An amusement park? Are you fucking— fucking come again?” he scoffs. He had to ask; lingering in the back of his mind is hope that he isn’t sent to this hellhole.

His father lets out a sad sigh. “It’s for a few hours, Wil, that’s nothing compared to the things we could do.”

Handing the phone back, he shakes his head. “I think anything could be better than this. I thought your goal was to get me out of the house to have a good time. This is just—fucking childish!”

“I think one could pretty easily argue that you’re being childish right now,” Techno remarks. Phil elbows him, but Wilbur see’s the way he struggles to keep a smile down. “Heh? You know I’m right, but excuse me for putting a mark on your ‘good-parent’ facade.”

Phil stares at Techno, struggling down a smile. Wilbur shrinks into himself.

Eventually, Phil sighs. “He’s right,” Phil starts, and he watches as Techno smiles, “Wil, you gotta give it a try. One shot. If you don’t like it you know we won’t force you into it and we’ll find something better for you,” he finishes, and Wilbur solemnly nods. He knows better than to pick a fight with his father or Techno.

“Fine,” he murmurs.

–

When a day had passed after the conversation, Wilbur couldn’t say the passing time with the absence of people had let him think, because he honestly had to answer and say he had continued with his musty routine. The only thing different was he was wallowing with slight agitation with his father.

The sudden announcement had been a spring that he wasn’t exactly ready to release. He’d much prefer to ease into a “recovery”, but he can’t get everything he wants.

And now, with his phone vibrating loudly under his hand, he found his sore eyes opening, unadjusted to the sunlight that strung into his room, the sun high in the sky. He’d nearly drifted off again when his phone disturbed him.

He pulled himself up, propping his upper body up with his arm and unlocking his phone. Rushing notifications from Techno continuously layered until he had the decency to open them.

A long string of “urgent” messages.

From what he could gather with his five-hours-of-sleep brain, Techno was parked outside.

Begrudgingly, he tapped at Techno’s contact until the phone was ringing. Techno picked up immediately.

“You wakin’ up at twelve now?” Techno asks.

Wilbur sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, what little energy he has murmuring out a quiet response. “Techno what are you doing downstairs?”

“I recall Phil ‘n you coming to an agreement with the theme park.”

Wilbur groans. “Now? Today? He never told me that,” Wilbur complains. Groggily, he pulls himself up and swings his legs over the side of the bed. The air is uncomfortably warm, but somehow the feeling of the heavy blanket over him still felt lovely.

“I’m only waitin’ ten more minutes before I go up ‘n get you myself, just so you know, Will-I-am,” Techno says.

“I’ll be down.”

And he was, with a fresh set of clothes and tamed hair, more than anything he’d been able to put together the past few days. He tried not to pay attention to how gross he felt, considering the greasy streaks of hair he felt just by trying to make it look presentable.

And his laundry was growing scarce, it was only a matter of time before he’d start rewearing things from his pile of filth in the corner.

Never mind that, though, he had one free day of being outdoors where everything was covered for him. But the thought of it still made him feel unnerved. Alone in an unfamiliar place that was probably packed with people. He’d heard of the place, probably one too many times over the years.

It was unconventional for Phil to think he would come out of his shell there of all places.

But, he did, and Techno was there, already walking around his car to seemingly come and find him. “That took you so long,” Techno murmured, turning back around at the sight of Wilbur. The brunet hummed in response, trying to sound amused. He got in the car, feeling out of place in such a tidy and unusually vibrant place. But he’d been in Techno’s car year after year, so he couldn’t say it didn’t feel familiar.

Techno drove off quickly without a word, and Wilbur buckled his seatbelt in and slumped against the window. “How far is it?” he asks on a whim.

“Nothin’ convenient,” Techno mutters, glancing at the GPS on his phone. “But it can’t be longer than two hours,” he quickly reassures.

Wilbur groans. “He wants me to be happy but can’t pick a convenient place for me to be happy at.”

“At least he’s trying,” Techno quickly butts in. “Not a lot of parents do that, bad parents ‘n all. That’s why there’s a lot of orphans.”

“I don’t think that’s what orphan means, Techno,” Wilbur muses.

“Don’t avoid the topic. And orphan can mean what I want it to mean ‘cause I’m the one killin’ them.”

“I’m not fuc—that’s still not how it works!” Wilbur argues, smiling ever-so-slightly.

It was like that the rest of the ride, brotherly banter between them while Techno still tried to drill into his head that Phil meant good. And Wilbur considered it, which was pointless because he knows Techno is right.

He watched as the time on the GPS went down slowly, until eventually it announced that they’d arrived. Which wasn’t entirely true, because even as Techno made a right-hand turn, down onto the path with a road sign announcing the park in big black letters: “COLONY PARKS”. A thick arrow pointed right, down the road that they were currently pulling onto.

In the distance, Wilbur spotted an overhead bridge with a big overhanging sign that decorates the entire side of said bridge. A dull brown background, the name of the park in what he recognizes as oversized shoelaces, suitably on-brand.

There’s strands of large, fake grass that obscures some of the words, and other giant versions of everyday things: buttons, bugs, probably other things had he been paying attention. It was interesting how all-out they went, but it didn’t excuse the fact that he wanted no part in this.

Fucking Phil and his need for him to be fine.

From that point forward, the scenery had changed drastically—there were towering blades of glass that gave the intended shrunken effect (where, if he was being honest, it made his mood lighten a bit). Certain sculptures of oversized shoes or again, bugs and old trinkets of the “nearby humans” lay in the “fields of grass”. He could certainly see the appeal, speaking for the children he knows passing by this very place with a much more exasperated and fulfilled face, while his dull and unamused; trying to hide how eager he was to look at the detail in everything.

“Honestly, I can see why you don’t wanna go here,” Techno chimes in after a moment, himself looking around at the scenery.

“Don’t say that unless you’re turning us around,” Wilbur deadpans. When Techno huffs, he shrinks deeper into the seat and tightens his arms around his torso.

(*)

“Woah—fucking shit!” Tubbo chants from afar, where Tommy can just barely hear him over the gust of air as a golf ball flies past him, narrowly missing his body. He thought he had that.

The human above him chuckles, and Tommy holds back a rant with a sour “I’ll fucking sue you”.

“Yeah, yeah,” the human murmurs, walking past him with ease to the next hole.

Tommy stays put, looking back at Tubbo, who’s sitting in the crevice of one of the fake rocks. “I’ve lost my pep, Tubbo,” he starts, and Tubbo’s already giving him a knowing look, but Tommy continues, “I’ll steal you a free thing—just please cover for me, my lungs are dying and I think if this person fuckin’ taunts me one more time I’ll probably get fired.”

Tubbo hums and shuffles up from his spot on the ledge. “I got you, bossman. Cut yourself off, or whatever. Go take a break,” he agrees.

Tommy’s offer slipped through Tubbo’s finger and he hurried off before he could remember. He bids a ‘thank you’ and speeds across the fake grass of the course, following along the left-hand side of the previous hole then hoisting over the low bricks that line the sides.

As he lands in the dirt, Tommy slows his pace and basks in his unofficial break.

He approaches the small hut for mini-golf booking, where Karl was leant against the counter with his phone in front of him. Lucky bastard, getting to use a phone with such ease.

Briefly, the worker noticed the tiny and Tommy nodded at him solemnly, and Karl offered a small smile and returned to the device.

Tommy ignores his jealousy (and his impulsive desire to steal it) and carries on, ducking under the tiny-worker entrance and slumping his shoulders as a gust of air-conditioned room hits him instantly..

Quiet feedback from his earpiece-turned-radio breaks the quiet silence, and Karl looks down at him. Tommy in return pauses, looking up at him.

There’s only a beat of passing silence before Karl chimes in with, “Hey, Tommy.”

“Hi Karl,” Tommy greets, wavering his previous path to cut across the floor; closer to the human. “You giving me a boost up? All the newcomers that are gonna have their mind fuckin’ blown when they come in here,” Tommy grins, “You know I just gotta see that.”

“Why should I help you?” Karl asks, and Tommy scowls at the question. “Will you put in a good word for me?”

“Oi! Come on Karl, don’t be a dick,” he yells up, scoffing.

Karl stares down at him, hand cupping his chin.

Fuck this. “Fine, dickhead. Who to, fuckin’ Big Q again?”

“Actually–yeah.”

Tommy makes a gagging noise, shaking his head. “You fucking romantic,” Tommy jokes—though he can’t say there wasn’t sincerity to it; he never saw the appeal of romance. But, the longer Karl stares at him with an expression even Tommy can quite literally not say no to, he shrugs. “I’ll try again, then, but I won’t accept assholery against me when he rejects you. Again.”

Karl nods, satisfied, then crouches down with his hand extended. With practised ease, Tommy steps on and adjusts his footing.

The human stands, and Tommy watches greedily as a view of the opening-hour crowds start fumbling in. Amusingly enough, Tommy also has a view of the human he was up against earlier.

He steps off of Karl’s hand and rushes across the counter. Karl returns to his phone, and Tommy takes a seat near the edge closest to the crowd.

There are the usual: families of three or four with giddy smiles as they ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ at the decor as they try to ignore the inconvenient rush of people, and the couples that look too happy to be there. There’re grandparents with their kids, large groups of teenagers and large groups of adults, kids—everything.

But, one person in particular stands out to Tommy. There’s no kid clung to his side or running off, not a partner at his shoulder. He doesn’t look particularly invested; his shoulders are shrunk in on himself and his lanky torso, and frankly Tommy can’t say anyone has stood out quite like that in such an unordinary way.

Usually, the people who catch his attention are those with colourful clothes or boisterous voices and laughter. This guy is making himself small, and he looks quiet at best. It’s funny—someone so tall and dull couldn’t blend in with a familial crowd, but he attempted it anyway, and it was amusing to watch. Simple as that.

(*)

Kill him. Right here, right now, kill him.

Phil’s interpretation of fun and relaxation is still puzzling to him, because as eager people run from every direction and pay no mind as they brush against his still form, it doesn’t feel relaxing. He can only imagine the park stretching out for miles, and he can’t say that trudging any deeper would make this jungle of people any more coherent.

So, he looks to his left and makes a beeline over to the least crowded place he can find.

He goes sideways against the crowd, keeping his eyes narrowed to try and keep his vision straight ahead. He stumbles as he catches himself before he trips over a stroller, and just manages to find his footing on the path leading up to the attraction.

It’s a simplistic design, holding nothing special against the initial drive up, with towering flowers that cast a shadow over some areas, fake rocks that seem to fit in like pebbles against the flowers.

Wilbur takes a habitual look around, noticing the layout of a golf course.

Lucky find, he muses.

The path cuts short and opens to a wider area, where a wooden (yet somehow still posh-looking) stand is built. Behind the counter, a worker who couldn’t have been older than twenty five was scrolling idly through his phone. As Wilbur approaches awkwardly, he seems to catch the worker’s attention. He looks up, flashing a genuine smile as he sets his phone down.

“Hello,” Wilbur greets.

“Hey!” The worker greets back, and Wilbur tries to compose himself to talk. “Look, let me be honest with you, I’ve never been here before and I just—I think I need something to pass the time.”

Karl (if his nameplate had a say in it) nods along, looking fairly interested for any theme park worker. “Uh, do you want to try a few rounds on the course?”

“Yeah, that might be a better start than sitting around,” Wilbur agrees. Out of the corner of his eye, something shifts, but he can’t pay attention to it for long before Karl’s talking to him again.

“Okay, and have you been introduced to the rent-a-tiny feature?”

“Uh—oh, they may have mentioned it. I can’t say I was listening,” Wilbur explains. Karl nods.

“Oh. Well, newer members get it free,” Karl begins, ducking behind the counter, “but that is specifically for attractions. To take them around the park it would be extra,” Karl pops back up. “And there’s a new-member discount for that as well, usually for if it was paid online. But it’s totally optional!” Karl finishes, finally, and Wilbur takes it in.

“I—my dad set this up, I wouldn’t know what features he got. Again, I wasn’t exactly listening when they read it over.”

The conversation continued, back-and-forth for another five minutes until it was squared away that Phil had opted for the rent-a-tiny feature, which he hadn’t been thrilled to discover. But it was valuable money to Phil, and in one angle it was for a good cause. And so, again, his conscience won.

Karl had fitted him for the club and left him to choose a ball, while the worker set off to find a tiny. It was startling to know he was going to see one, purely because of his uncertainty that he would manage to handle such a small thing—person—whatever. It was unnerving.

And that’s why his heart ran nervously when Karl finally emerged, something wedged between his forefinger and thumb.

A borrower. A real fucking borrower. Wilbur tries to hide his suddenly piqued interest in the being, watching as calmly as possible as the two approached and the borrower was set down onto the counter. He looked irritated, but still put on a fake, flashy smile for customer-him.

“Hello, you’ve interrupted my break time but I can take a break for you, I saw you over there,” the borrower points to the crowd to Wilbur’s left of them, “and you looked all sad as shit,” the borrower finishes. His voice was so loud, so clear, no stutter in sight and swearing proudly. It was hard not to seem impressed.

“Good luck with him, and have a good game!”

Wilbur tucks the club under his arm and pockets the golf ball, then stares at the borrower.

“Uh—” Wilbur’s voice ran dry. Karl had disappeared out of sight, and that left the two standing there.

“Dy’a want me to walk then, dick?”

“Ah—no, I can just pick you up?”

“You’re one of those people?” The borrower asks, raising an eyebrow at him in plain frustration. Wilbur feels guilty, but he does feel an underlying irritation of his own. “Look, set your hand down. I won’t bite you,” the borrower instructs. Wilbur obliges reluctantly, slowly approaching his hand to the counter. “And while I’m at it, since you’re a bitch and got me for a day, I’m Tommy. Big T.”

Wilbur rests his hand on the surface and responds “Wilbur”.

Tommy nods and turns his attention to his transportation, which Wilbur has been focussed on excruciatingly long to keep steady. As tiny skin brushes onto his, Wilbur’s entire body freezes. In that moment, his strength is kept in keeping his hand still. It was also at this contact that Wilbur remembered how touch starved he had been as of lately, with days of laying in bed with nothing but a blanket and his clothes stuck to him.

And now, there was a borrower climbing into the palm of his hand, settling right in the crevice where his fingers couldn’t help but curl at the touch.

Wilbur tries to shake away the feeling of contact against his hand and turns away, Tommy kept carefully in his palm.

“It’s fucking stupid to be scared of something smaller than you, pussy,” Tommy says, looking up at him through Wilbur’s curled fingers.

Wilbur furrows his brows and looks down in return, shaking his head. “I’m not scared of you, I never implied that,” he argues.

“Uhuh. You seem to be going the wrong way, I recall the first hole being back there,” Tommy says, grinning like he’s already known.

Wilbur turns on his heel and starts off in the right direction. “And you didn’t want to tell me?”

“Well, you don’t seem like the most talkative fella’,” Tommy points out. Wilbur furrows his brows.

He laughs half-heartedly. “That’s fair.”

(*)

So much for a break.

He watches as Tubbo grins at him from the last hole, while he’s sat in a palm at the very first one. Tommy wrinkles his face and flips the other off, who in return follows suit.

Then Tubbo is distracted by the other human, leaving Tommy alone again.

Might as well be worth it to pry Wilbur out of his shell if their day was going to have any confirmation of a good ending.

“Alright,” Tommy announces, shuffling up from his spot on Wilbur’s palm and pushing his fingers away. The human obliges, standing scarily still. “How—how uh, how do you want to play?”

“I have no fucking clue what that means,” Wilbur says.

Tommy frowns. “Okay, well, I can help you, or I can, well, not help you—which I’ll be fair, either way ends in me not helping you, unless you're really lucky. And I don’t think you’ll be lucky enough, even though you are a sad, sad guy."

“I’m not sad!”

Tommy stares at him.

“Okay, whatever, you caught me,” Wilbur says sarcastically. “And do whatever you fucking want, I’m sure I could punt you no matter you’re advantage,” the human says, chortling. Tommy gasps.

“Fucking try me. Bitch.”

Wilbur hums and crouches down carefully, an irritating slowness to his movements that makes Tommy’s world go by in slow-motion. He’s scrambling for purchase on the fake grass as soon as he knows he can, which happens to instantly trigger a reaction from Wilbur, who’s other hand moves to catch him.

Tommy lands on more skin, the softness of the landing being both comforting and infuriating.

“Oi! I can handle myself,” Tommy yells as Wilbur takes the initiative to let him down. “I value my safety, I wouldn't've jumped if I didn’t, dickhead.”

The gentle-ness continued for the remainder of the game. And despite Tommy’s request for a stronger hit, (which he did execute a couple times, until it dispersed into small and lazy hits), he never seemed to take it to heart.

But, the game did eventually end.

There wasn’t any winner that got to celebrate, it was just a little bit of a lighter mood. Tommy, hesitant as he would be to ever admit it to the human, had taken a liking. It was rewarding to watch a more violent part of him come out the more Tommy kept pushing him.

The rest of the day was ahead of them, and Wilbur had already seemed more eager than he had been to interact with the tiny.

—–—

EUEUEUEUEUUE IT'S REEEEEEEAAAAAL !!!!!!!!!

#brickquiries #mw #brickfic #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #dsmp g/t #dsmp gt #dream smp g/t #dream smp gt #g/t #gt #t!tommy #g!wilbur #tiny workers au #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHGHG

49 notes · View notes