#this made me laugh lol. homework is hard

[tisorridalamor]

I'M LOOKING FOR CONTROLS THEORY NOT HAMILTON FANART!!!

[star-sim]

exe.enhaboy_stopped_working.exe ☆ ot7

☆ non-idol! ot7 enhypen x fem! reader ☆ summary: how to fluster your enhypen boy beyond words! ☆ genre: FLUFFFFF, can be interpreted as established relationship or pining stage lolz ☆ warning(s)? made one (1) chemistry reference, mentions of drinking and throwing up lol ☆ word count: 3k words total ☆ today is lunar new year, year of the dragon. happy new years to anyone that celebrates it, may the spring treat us well! take this as a new year charm.

heeseung ☆ ask him for help

"can you open this for me, hee?"

on it.

"heeseung, can you carry this for me?"

already taking it out of your hands.

"heeseung, how do you do this problem?"

he appreciated that you think he's smart enough to help you with your homework, but truth be told, if you were struggling in this subject, then he'd be drowning.

there's something about the way you look up at him with wide, star-filled eyes, smiling along with your words as you asked him for help.

outwardly, heeseung would shoot you a smirk, maybe even tease you with a, "oh, you need me so bad, don't you?"

but inwardly, he'd be freaking out.

you, the most perfect person in the world, needed his help.

heeseung had always been the baby of his family, and even when he was with his friends, where he was the eldest, he found himself slipping back into the role of being taken care of.

but when it came to you, heeseung was more than eager to be the strong, dependable one.

and you asking him for help meant that you you saw him as reliable, that you could depend on him. it made his chest fill with pride.

but it also made heeseung feel so shy.

did you think of him that highly? he wondered what you thought of him when you asked him to open jars for you. did that mean that you wanted to marry him? you wanted a man that could take care of you right? did that mean that you wanted him?

"hee?" your voice broke him out of his thoughts.

shit. by the way your bright eyes gazed at him, a small smile playing on your lips, heeseung knew that you could see right through his smug facade. if not the red color of his face, or the way his hands gripped the hem of his shirt like his life depended on it, it was probably the way his eyes widened a fraction in sheer panic as he realized that you were chuckling at his dazed expression.

"y-yes?" perfect save.

you laughed, handing him one of your hard-to-open chip bags. "can you open this for me?"

"of course."

honestly, that hard-to-open chip bag was kind of hard to open, but heeseung would never admit that to you.

"thank you, heeseung," you gave him another one of your bright smiles, as he handed the bag of chips back to you, popping one of the crisps into your mouth. "love you."

then, you left.

you were so pretty.

wow.

wait...

LOVE?!

jay ☆ pull him by the collar

honestly, jay knew that he was being a bit of an asshole right now. he was tired, and so were you, but he tuned you out as you talked to him.

as the two of you stood under the streetlight, waiting for the pedestrian light to turn on, jay's feet ached. after spending an entire day out with you, his good friend, he was exhausted. even if he liked you a lot (a lot), even he couldn't ignore his fatigue.

"jay, are you even listening to me?"

"hm?" did you just say something? he had no idea, getting lost in the blankness of his tired mind.

"i asked you what you..." jay tuned out the rest of your sentence.

when he only nodded blankly, his eyes very clearly unfocused, you let out a huff.

you grabbed the collar of his shirt, harshly yanking him down so that he was eye-level with you.

"i said," you snapped into his ear, your tone annoyed, "what do you want to eat later?"

oh god.

that forced jay awake immediately. if someone dumped a bucket of iced water on him, he still wouldn't be as alert as he was now.

it was a combination of things: the way you gripped his shirt so harshly, the force at which you jerked him down, the way you looked irritated at him, how close your face was to his now... all of it.

jay heard your question, loud and clear, yet he couldn't register it properly, not when you were so close to him. his eyes were wide like saucers, a sudden wave of embarrassment washing over him. his lips parted, in an attempt to give you an answer, only to let out choked out stutters.

"i— w-well..."

you let out an annoyed sigh. you let go of his shirt, pushing his chest away, as you began walking the intersection, as the stoplight changed.

"whatever," you grumbled, rolling your eyes.

jay stood there stunned, under the streetlight as other pedestrians passed by him, watching your retreating back.

he'd always known that he was attracted to you. but this may have been the turning point.

you were rough with him, aggressive even. it made his heart plummet to his stomach.

when he realized that you were a good distance away from him already, jay snapped back into reality. his feet picked up, running after you.

"w-wait!"

jake ☆ run your nails along him + say he's strong

it was a friendly gesture. because you and jake were friends. and you saw him exclusively as a friend. was what jake told himself.

so why did he feel this way?

the two of you were just hanging out, talking about whatever came to mind, when jake randomly brought up the topic of working out. sure, maybe he was glazing himself a little bit when he was talking about how much he had bulked up in the past few months, especially because he wanted (and needed) to look cool in front of you. he didn't know what he was expecting, but you obviously got curious, asking him with owlish eyes if you could feel his arms.

of course he let you.

you started off with his biceps, feeling the hard muscle under your palms. you gave it a squeeze, giggling when jake flexed his bicep for you. in fact, you now got a good look of his entire arm now.

it was veiny and toned, the type where whenever he did anything you could see the muscle bulging from under his skin. you bit the inside of your lip, before you ran your nails along the length of his arm.

"you're so strong, jakey," you mused into his ear, before your hands trailed up to feel his strong shoulders.

jake froze.

his chest swelled with pride, attempting to bite back a proud grin on his face to stay humble about it, but deep down, he knew that he hoped that you'd say that.

but the worst part was the way your hands had felt on him. when you ran your nails against his arm, a warm chill struck through his entire body. it was such a strange feeling. but he liked it. he wanted more.

feeling the tension in his shoulders, you ran your nails on the back of his neck, fingers brushing up against the muscles on his back.

"relax," you said, and he could feel your breath on his skin.

were you doing it on purpose?

jake felt like he was about to evaporate. you were so close to him, and even if your light touches were friendly, it sure didn't feel like it.

it's safe to say that the moment that you put your fingers in his hair, running your nails against his scalp, jake's soul left his body.

sunghoon ☆ show some love to his moles

sunghoon wasn't always a fan of his moles as a kid. kids liked to tease him, pinching his skin in an 'attempt' to take the 'speck of dirt' that was his mole off his face. and when he was young, his mom took him to some korean fortune teller, and the moment the lady looked at his face, she pointed out the mole below his temple. "bad luck," she said. even in high school, his classmates would point to the dark mole under his eye and call it Avogadro's Number, because it was a mole. ha ha, funny enough, but sunghoon would only frown.

"did you know that moles are where you were kissed the most in your past life?" you asked him one day. his head was lying on your lap, something that sunghoon had to fight himself to not freak out over.

it was a quiet afternoon, just the two of you relishing in each other's presence.

"who told you that?" sunghoon asked, his hands scrunching up the hem of his shirt. it made him a little nervous, the mention of his moles. what if you didn't like them? "what evidence do you have for that?"

"have some fun in your life, sunghoon." you brought your finger up to poke the mole under his eye. then, you dragged your finger across his face, to trace the two moles below his temples, then to the mole on the side of his nose. sunghoon let his eyes fall shut under your gentle finger.

"i love your moles, hoon," you finally said after a moment of silence.

sunghoon choked on his spit, jerking up to cough up a lung.

love? his moles? absolutely no way!

"are you okay...?!" you clutched his arm as he choked on his own coughs.

when he was finally done coughing up a storm, sunghoon whipped his head over to you, his expression painted with sheer horror.

"why do you like my moles?!" he asked, his tone laced with what could only be called offense (even if he wasn't actually offended).

you shrugged. "they're cute."

"cute?!"

sunghoon's world was crashing upon his shoulders. in a good way.

you didn't hate his moles? and you thought they were... cute?!

his cheeks flared with heat, while his chest filled with warmth. he swallowed down hard, before opening his mouth to speak, yet he couldn't form any coherent words. what he spent his whole life hating was something that you loved.

his hands were getting clammy.

"why are you so surprised?" you nudged him with your foot. "doesn't everyone love your moles?"

"not really," sunghoon frowned.

you stared at his face, assessing him, before you clicked your tongue. you grabbed his head, gently pulling him back onto your lap.

"they're clearly blind then," you muttered. "your moles make you so cute."

you continued to trace his face, connecting his moles together like they were constellations, completely oblivious to the fact that sunghoon was both completely fried in the head, yet still somehow consciously planning your marriage.

sunoo ☆ take care of him

you and sunoo were just hanging out in your apartment with a few friends, when someone suggested drinking.

and that's how sunoo found himself sitting in a circle, with five or six empty soju bottles in the middle, with the rest of his friends passed out. you were in the kitchen, grabbing a recycling bag for said empty soju bottles.

sunoo was the only one who didn't drink. not even a drop. even when they reassured him that nothing bad would happen, sunoo's resolve stayed. because he had one reason, and one reason only: he said, looked, and did dumb things when he was drunk. even if he had a relatively high alcohol tolerance, sunoo would rather die than run the risk of embarrassing himself in front of you.

you, on the other hand, had a few shots along with your friends, but remained sober.

you came back to where sunoo was, bag in hand. you muttered a small, "hi," at him, before you began collecting the green, glass bottles. sunoo wanted to say hi back, but his voice came out in an embarrassingly small whisper.

"why didn't you drink?" you asked him suddenly, quickly adding when his face pinched, "sorry, i just feel like i've never seen you drink before."

yup, and there was a reason for that.

"it's okay." sunoo only nodded understandingly, hiding his excitement to finally have alone time with you (as if he wouldn't die on the stop right now). "i do dumb things when i'm drunk, y'know?"

you blinked owlishly. "like what?"

sunoo felt awkward. it wasn't like he never spoke to you at all, but just that he felt so intimidated by you and your beauty. how could he not?

though, he couldn't help the twinge of jealousy that seeped into his chest as you brushed stray hairs out of jake's sleeping face, grabbing a pillow off your couch so that heeseung could sleep peacefully on your living room floor.

"i dunno," sunoo shrugged, his eyes fixed on the way you took care of your friends. "last time i drank..."

he trailed off, causing you to turn your head toward him, watching him for an answer.

"... i threw up all over the kitchen," sunoo grimaced at the memory. "it was nasty."

you smiled. "no shame in that. if you threw up all over my kitchen, i would have cleaned it up happily."

sunoo's ears burned. he loved that about you, how you were so willing to help people.

"my roommate wasn't so happy," sunoo frowned. "jungwon yelled at me, even when i got sick the morning after."

you crawled over to him, putting the bottles aside. "well, that's jungwon. i wouldn't mind."

you poked him, nudging him with your foot. "i'd have no problem taking care of you, sunoo."

you met his gaze, your hands reaching out for his, your lips spreading out into a smile.

sunoo flushed.

you? take care of him?

that would be a dream.

he could imagine you ruffling his hair as you tucked him into bed, pressing a kiss to his forehead as you told him good night. the thought of you petting his head, letting him bury his face into your chest after a bad day made him feel dizzy. the idea of being enveloped by your warmth and perfume had him trifling, fighting for his life as more and more thoughts of your tenderness attacked him.

"r-really?"

you squeezed his hand, you other hand coming up to brush his bangs out of his face. "of course."

sunoo was going to die!

jungwon ☆ eye-contact

jungwon knew that you had a bad habit of looking at people's hair or noses instead of their eyes when you talked, he knew it better than anyone because you'd confided in him about how shy some people made you.

he was happy that you trusted him enough to tell him about your troubles.

and he should now be happy that you felt comfortable enough with him to stare straight into his eyes when you talked to him. and he was. but now he felt like he was going to melt.

were eyes always this beautiful? how come he never noticed the way they shined so brightly, the way they creased into thin crescents as you smiled?

"jungwon, are you okay?" you asked, cocking your head as your eyes innocently blinked at him.

jungwon cleared his throat, sucking in a sharp breath. "y-yeah, i am."

you blinked again, your wide eyes filled with a little concern as they stared straight into his. "are you sure?"

"of course..."

and it was then that jungwon was hit with the realization that he was probably one of, if not the only, the people that got to see your eyes like this.

"w-wait, look at me!" he blurted, and your eyes flickered back to his. jungwon winced at his sudden outburst.

you smiled. "what's up?"

"i.. uhm.." jungwon didn't know what to say. he just needed an excuse to look at your eyes. "you.. uh.. you—"

"what about me?"

"you look really pretty today!"

you blinked slowly. in that moment, jungwon saw the way your eyes darted around his face, running away from his eyes as you processed his words.

you didn't meet his gaze when you said, "th-thanks."

no! did he make you uncomfortable? "wait—!"

as you've told him before, when you got shy or nervous, you avoided making eye-contact.

(if he used his critical thinking a little better, jungwon would realize that he, indeed, just made you feel shy. not because he was making you uncomfortable, because he just called you pretty, for goodness's sake!)

riki ☆ be mean to him

riki thought of himself as a fighter, the type of person that never backed down in the face of a challenge. sometimes, he did the exact opposite— he liked to fan the flames, letting the blaze that was his friends' anger rise so high that it burned everything around him, all for a little chuckle and a heightened sense of pride.

but as the two of you sat in class, you (who sat in front of him) sent him a glare, your gaze hardening as it met his, followed by your lips parting to mutter a soft, but venomous, "shut the fuck up," riki's breath caught in his throat.

it was weird and uncomfortable, the way that riki's face began to prickle with heat. his ears burned into a red color. he couldn't bring himself to look you in the eye after that.

at first, he thought he was just embarrassed, embarrassed that someone like you had to reprimand him.

but the more that that scene replayed in his head— the sight of you angry and annoyed at him, as poison laced your sharp tongue— the more he felt queasy inside. you looked so... attractive when you were angry at him. he liked the way your eyes were filled with so much displeasure and dislike for him. it made him feel so small, but it made riki's chest pound.

he squeezed his eyes shut, biting down on his lip to suppress a frustrated groan. alas, he couldn't keep it in, as riki buried his head in his hands, fighting off the warmth that was bleeding onto his face, letting out a loud, exasperated sigh.

your head whipped around to him. your brows crashed together, annoyed and irritated by his loudness.

"i'm serious, riki," you spat, kicking him with your shoe. "shut up."

riki flushed.

all he could do was mutter a soft (and slightly-pathetic), "s-sorry."

[kendyzzlewp]

The Right Decision || ART DONALDSON

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pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: you’ve come to a big scary decision but it’s okay because Art supports you. no matter what.

tags: married art, working mom female reader, they have kids, basically the conversation that tashi should’ve had with art when he wanted to retire lol

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“I have to tell you something but I don’t want you to get upset. Just listen.”

Art looks away from the tv, his mouth falling automatically into a frown. You stand next to the couch, your fingers fidgeting with your wedding ring. A habit you picked up on when you first got engaged.

“I might cry,” you warn, already feeling the tears sting the edge of your eyes. “But it’s not because I am sad or anything. I just have anxiety.”

His frown deepens and he instantly turns off the television, giving you his full attention. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

With a heavy sigh, you drop down onto the couch next to him. “I’m struggling at work,” you admit, the embarrassment creeping behind your neck like a tick. “I can’t do it anymore. The demand, the constant traveling. It’s keeping me away from you and the boys. I hate it.”

Art scoots closer to you, his strong arm wrapping around your shoulders. “Yeah,” he says softly. “We hate being away from you too.”

“I want to be home,” you say, turning your head to look at him. “I want to be here for them. I feel like I’m missing out in everything. I want to be a good wife and a good mom. I want to cook dinner and help with homework. I want to clean—god I miss cleaning.”

Art chuckles quietly, pushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Baby, I-“

You cut him off because you already know what he was going to say. That you should’ve quit that job the moment you found out you were pregnant. But you weren’t a quitter, you saw things through to the end but this… this was just too much.

“Yes, I know,” you say quickly. “I should’ve quit years ago but I just didn’t want to take advantage of you. You trained so hard to be where you are. I’m not entitled to it just because I’m your wife.”

You could feel Art tense beside you, he couldn’t understand how you could think that. With a gentle touch, his fingers grab your chin, forcing you to stare into those ocean eye that made you weak.

“You are the mother of my children and the love of my life,” he firmly states. “You are entitled to every part of me. You took care of me, held it down for us when I first turned pro. Let me take care of you.”

Cue the waterworks. You always told him that if the tennis thing didn’t work out, he could look into being a writer. The sincerity in his voice, the love in his eyes, the kindness of his touch really made you fall in love all over again.

“We have more money than we know what to do with. If it quitting your job brings you peace, then do it. Be a stay-at-home mom or get another job if it’s what you really want. And please, cook for us again, I don’t think I can keep eating dino nuggets.”

A watery laugh escapes your lips as you grab the bag of his neck, pulling him closer. “Thank you,” you whisper before pressing your lips to his. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

The sounds of tiny footsteps, thundering down the hallway capture both of your attentions. Your twin boys, Jackson and Eli, burst into the living room.

They are the perfect mixture of you and Art. Their blonde curly locks, your skin tone, his stunning blue eyes and your nose. You couldn’t help but to stare of them in slight awe, eternally grateful to be able to be their mom.

“Mama, look!” Eli exclaimed, climbing up onto your lap. “I drew a dino.”

You took the paper in your hand, gasping dramatically. “Wow, this looks so good bear.”

Jackson, the more reserved of the too, quietly climbed onto Art’s lap. He snuggled into his chest. “I drew something too,” he says, handing a paper to Art.

Art shows you the paper with a fond smile. “Wow, buddy. Is that our family?”

He nods, a small smile on his face. “Yeah, you, me, mama and Eli.”

Your heart swelled at the picture perfect moment. Sitting there basking in the love of your family you realized the decision you had to make. It wasn’t a hard one at all.

“I have some great news,” you say as the four of you cuddle closer. “Mama is going to be home all the time now.”

Eli jumps excited on your lap, his eyes wide and curious. “No more trips?”

“No more trips,” you confirm, ruffling his hair.

Jackson lifts his head from Art’s chest. “Really?”

Art smiles, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Really,” he confirms. “Mommy is ours now!”

The boys cheer, jumping from the couch and pulling your hand. Both of them babbling excitedly about playing and painting and snacks. You turned to look at Art, smiling widely.

“Thank you,” you say, tears threatening to fall again.

He smiles, tilting his head. “No, thank you.”

[whorergal]

SHE'S MINE

summary: you get attacked by ghostface but another ghostface comes in and saves you…

warnings: scream vi spoilers, language (cussing), blood, gore… typical horror stuff lol

pairings: ethan landry x fem!reader

authors note: this is my first ever imagine (and post) on here so i hope u like it >.< i want to write more so i’ll try to be active especially for ethan. also, this is pretty short so i wouldn't mind writing a part two :3

❗️: part three can be found here!

———————————————————————————

You weren't in much of a party mood unlike the rest of your friends. Really, you haven't been in the exact mood in doing much anymore. Ever since Woodsboro, you had lost a part of yourself in the tragedy that haunted you. It was unusual especially since it was nearing Halloween, your favorite holiday, that you didn't want to participate in dressing up and getting drunk as a reward. You decided to stay inside your apartment that you shared with Anika, catching up on homework that you had missed.

Tara had made it her job to text you every so often, casually updating you on the party. After a couple more short texts, they started to become more and more hard to understand which made you laugh. At least someone was having fun.

When you sat aside your phone, trying to keep all your attention on finishing your notes, your phone began to ring. You furrowed your brows when you took a glance and saw it was coming from an unknown caller. Immediately you became paranoid. You let it ring until it ended, shaking it off as a coincidence.

Ghostface was gone. There was no possible way it could've followed you and your friends to New York City. Right?

Your phone began to ring again.

Maybe it was Tara, you thought. You knew she was drunk so maybe something happened and she was borrowing someone's phone. But why wouldn't she just use Mindy's or Anika's? You tried not to think about rational answers because you didn't want to feel stupid for answering the call when you knew you shouldn't have.

"Hello?" You answered.

"Hello, Y/N," the familiar voice said back. "You miss me?"

You should've known. Well, you did know; you were just stupid enough to think otherwise. "Fuck, no," then you hung up.

Instantly, you opened your contacts and went straight for Tara's number. But, then you remembered she was absolutely hammered which meant she probably wouldn't be much help in your situation.

You scrolled mindlessly until you landed on Ethan's contact, clicking on it instantly, seeing as he was someone you confided in the most. Mindy had already told everyone her plan tonight was to get shit-faced so you weren't confident in her being able to aid you in this; neither could you count on Anika as she would be with her.

It rang for a couple short seconds which felt like eternity for you, being panicked and all. You were relying on him answering because you weren't sure how long you had until something happened.

Luckily, he answered in confusion. "Y/N, what's wrong?"

"E, I need you to come to my place now," you let out in a complete rush, the words almost slurred together.

"What?" he questioned. "Y/N/N, I can barely hear you. Are you okay?"

"Ethan, he called me. Ghostface called me."

The line went silent, only the sound of loud music and people hollering. That was until your phone began to vibrate against your cheek, startling you. You brought it down to your line of vision and saw it was the unknown caller. Or, should you say, whatever fucked up person that was behind the mask.

"Y/N, can you hear me?!" His voice came out in distress, worried something happened to you. "Hey, Chad and I heading over right now! Y/N?!"

"They're calling again," you stated simply.

"Don't answer it!" He was practically yelling into his phone at this point because he knew exactly what you were going to do. It was what almost got you killed in Woodsboro.

You didn't listen to him, deciding to hang up on him and use your remaining courage to answer the call. If you survived once, you sure as hell can survive again.

"What the fuck do you want?" You spat in anger.

"You hang up on me again and I'll paint your bedroom walls in your blood," they rushed out. "It would be a shame for your friends to find your mutilated lifeless body, wouldn't it?"

"Fuck you." You held back your wavering because although you weren't afraid, their descriptive threat made you nauseous.

"How about we play a game?"

"How about you fuck off."

"It's an easy game, Y/N," they told you. "You answer correctly and I may consider sparing your life."

You scoffed, getting up from your bed. "Fine. I'll play your stupid game."

"Great." There was a short pause. "Where in your apartment do you think I'm at?"

The confidence crumbled as now you started to feel the rising fear bubbling in your chest. "What?"

"You heard me," they said. "Where. Am. I?"

"Fuck," you mumbled to yourself. "Why don't you just come and get me, asshole? Are you too afraid?"

"The opposite." Their voice came out hushed.

Then, your bedroom door flung open, hitting harshly against your wall that it left an indent. Ghostface came running toward you, knife rose in the air, intending to plant it into your skin but you managed to dodge their attack, shoving them onto your bed as you made your escape.

You didn't get too far as they grabbed ahold of your ankle, making you face-plant into your wooden flooring. If the pain of hitting your head against the hard surface wasn't enough, the sheer agony rippling through your leg at the feeling of their knife digging into your calf was enough to make you scream. When they pulled it out, you grew enough strength to kick them in the face as you struggled to get up, finding all your energy diminishing.

Attempting to make a run for it didn't turn out well as you heard their footsteps catch up to you, causing you to throw yourself out of the way for their knife to go straight through the door.

Your apartment was pretty small. I mean, it only housed you and Anika so there wasn't much room needed which ultimately meant there wasn't anywhere else to go. Your kitchen was connected to your living room which was also connected to your hallway. It was all one open space. So, it was no surprise that they caught up to you again.

They managed to tackle you to the floor, holding you in place by stabbing you right where you had been previously, breaking through the stitches. You screamed so loud, you were concerned at the fact that your neighbors hadn't become suspicious at the sound. Where the hell was Ethan?

Them pulling out the knife hurt much worse, causing you to whine in return. But then they stabbed you in your abdomen once more, causing you to let out a choked sob. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to release the tension as you were physically helpless at this point. You reached down, feeling the blood coat your hand as you forced them to pull the knife out of you. Using whatever energy you had left, you kicked them off of you.

You used your entire arm to hold your wounds in place as you turned to crawl away. You weren't surprised to feel them grabbing your ankle, on the leg that had been injured which made it feel ten times worse, and drag you back to them. They flipped you on your back and stared down at you for a second until they began to raise their knife in the air.

Preparing yourself for the worse, you laid there with not much else to do, waiting to be punctured for what you assumed to be the last time ever. That was until they were thrown off of you by someone smacking them in the head with the wooden cutting board Anika used to cook you two dinner. Your eyes felt heavy but you couldn't help but widen them when you saw a second Ghostface, staring down their accomplice instead of you. The sound of the wooden board clattering against the ground caused you to flinch.

The one who had previously been attacking you was shorter than this new figure. You began to crawl away again, seeing as this short distraction gave you that advantage. You were bleeding out quickly, but you didn't want give up just yet.

You made it toward your counter, glancing at them as it seemed they were having a silent conversation. That was until the shorter one attempted to attack the taller one, using their knife but they easily intercepted the stabbing by grabbing ahold of their wrist. The taller one tossed the other one carelessly against your bookshelf, causing all your shared books with Anika to fall at their collapse.

It was funny to think you were now more worried about your books well being than your own.

You cowered behind your counter, carefully watching them in total confusion. The fact one of them was defending you, which seemed to go against their whole purpose, had rendered you frozen.

There was one last silent mutual conversation until the one with the knife shook their head in what you assumed could've been anger before fleeing the scene. You followed their figure until it was gone with wide eyes.

Your breath hitched when the Ghostface that practically saved your life turned to look at you. They didn't come near you, or really move at all as they stared into your soul. There was noise coming from somewhere in the building which caught their attention, making them turn toward your door and run out as well.

You watched in surprise. What the hell just happened?

[ash5monster01]

could you write todd helping reader in english? like helping her with poetry or just regular homework. also, they are already dating ❤️ im a sucker for established relationships im sorry lol

Study Buddies

Pairing: Todd Anderson x FemReader

Warnings: established relationship, fluff, some language, just sweetness

Summary: Being a student at Welton is difficult and even more so when you already struggle with most of your classes. Thank God you have a sweet boyfriend who is always so willing to help.

word count: 700

Masterlist

The groan you let out immediately causes Todd to lift his head and scan the library for any onlookers. Deer in headlights like always just at the thought of someone paying a semblance of attention to him. You shake your head as you watch him, dropping the pencil in your hand as you completely give up on the assignment in front of you. When Todd realizes the coast is clear he finally turns his attention towards you.

“What’s wrong now?” he curiously asks and you wonder how he ever got comfortable around you if he panicked like that over just a couple of curious looks.

“This homework is impossible. I give up” you tell him, eyes glancing at the chemistry you no longer cared about. Even if you could figure out what all of it meant, the amount you had been given was absurd.

“You don’t give up, you just need a second to collect your thoughts” he says, voice his normal quiet and hushed tone and you watch as his hand reaches and slides the book back towards you. “Give it another go”

“I’d rather die” but the pointed look he gives you convinces you to pick back up the pencil and stare at the images on the page.

“I don’t get it” you pout, half annoyed and half on the verge of tears. Welton was hard, you knew that, but it still broke your spirits just the same.

“Let me see” he says, scooting close enough that his knee bumps against your own. He’s a fool if he thinks there’s any chance you’ll pay attention to your homework now. Not when your extremely adorable boyfriend is now this close to you.

“Oh well that’s easy, here look” but when Todd’s eyes look up to meet your own he can see you’re no longer interested in whatever he’s trying to show you. The look makes his ears tint pink and you can’t help but smile.

“Todd, I don’t want to do my homework anymore” you coo, leaning your face close to him. His head swings again, searching to see if anyone was peaking in on this private interaction. He freezes when your hand reaches up and stops him.

“W-we have to study” he tells you but you let out a soft ‘shh’. Stopping his stuttering and brushing your nose against his own. His face is fire truck red in an instant.

“I’d rather kiss you” you say, hot breath fanning across his lips and you can feel his mouth opening and closing, struggling to find words in this very moment. You love how shy he can still get around you.

“You gonna stop me?” you whisper and he shakes his head in your hand, yearning for it just as much as you. With your grip still on his chin you tip his mouth up and towards your own, sealing it against you.

The soft sigh he lets out causes you to grin against his lips before closing them around his again. You kiss him briefly but enough to make him dizzy. When you pull away his eyes are closed, mind reeling and now suddenly desperate to get far away from here. You chuckle to yourself lightly, watching as he processes the moment between you.

“Can you help me with number 6?” you ask and his eyes snap open, trying to recover from the whiplash you’ve just given him. He’s a mumbling mess, head snapping between you and the text book and you offer him as innocent a grin you can muster.

“Everything okay?” you curiously ask and he smiles, laughing lightly to himself and mentally cursing himself for always falling into your traps. It made sense you were the only girl who was able to lock him down.

“Everything’s just fine” he says, sliding back close and leaning to look at the question. You watch him intently, waiting as he processes the words.

“Okay, listen close” he starts and you grin, eyes casting over the page as you’re now prepared for him to explain. He was right you definitely needed a second to collect your thoughts.

Best mini break ever.

[joaofelix70]

MISS DIPLOMAT & MR. CHARMING |

dominik szoboszlai x female reader.

author's note: this handsome man's living rent-free in my head. he's a freaking masterpiece. talented, funny, charismatic, attractive. i watched interviews, tiktok videos made by supporters and much more to understand a little bit of his language, personality and what he does towards friends and loved ones. laughed a lot! i made my homework as a writer, hope you enjoy it! (compliments and any kind of retributions are more than welcomed).

summary: your job is involving the commitment of unify the population and create interrelations to another countries, using the eurocup qualifiers and the hungary national team executions. you just didn't expect to fall in love with the no. 10's captain player.

words and characters: 1,811/11,223. it was three days working too hard on this story. i'm begging for your consideration, lol.

────

sports diplomacy: it's the unique power of sport to bring people, nations, and communities closer together via a shared love of physical pursuits. this responsibility is the reason of a transition between strangers to connected individuals, advancing foreign policy goals and augmenting sport for development initiatives. the complex landscape where sport, politics, and diplomacy overlap become clearer, as do the pitfalls of using sport as a tool for overcoming and mediating separation between people, nonstate actors, and states. the power of sport has never been more important. so far, the 21st century has been dominated by disintegration, introspection, and the retreat of the nation-state from the globalization agenda. in such an environment, scholars, students, and practitioners of international relations are beginning to rethink how sport might be used to tackle climate change, gender inequality, and the united nations sustainable development goals, for example. to boost these integrative, positive efforts is to focus on the means as well as the ends, that is, the diplomacy, plural networks, and processes involved in the role sport can play in tackling the monumental traditional and human security challenges of our time. credits: international studies association and oxford university press.

────

MLSZ (hungarian football federation) ──

new training ground at telki.

"i can't believe that being in places like this made up my most theoretically utopian childhood dreams. what a progress in front of me!" you still witness exciting moments where you pinch yourself, trying to believe in the reality that surrounds you: visiting the new training center of the players who are just a few meters away from you, getting ready to represent an entire country.

"your presence is our privilege. a voice of the spread of eurocup to our nation, right here…" the technical director gives you deference, obtaining a measure of humbleness and respect by you.

"the honor belongs to me in its entirety. grateful for having me, sir. while the view is immersive and captivating — my fervent congratulations to everyone involved — could we retreat from the pleasant glass-enclosed room and see everything closer, on the outside? please? i will never get used to this atmosphere." you pour politeness and charisma to the staffs around you, being directed to the proximity of the field and saluting the employees who pass through your path.

meet dominik — your szobo — instigates the nostalgic combination of detailed moments in which your thoughts display as photographic retrospectives. you're incapable to oppose the little enthusiastic laughs, fidgeting the rings between your fingers and avoiding possible suspicious glances from others. however, for you, this wouldn't actually work. the lives of you both are correlated, but different.

the training session is finished. clapping your hands and celebrating the performances, you greet the athletes and recognize some familiar people. nevertheless, reality slows down after those dark woody eyes capture through your soul. his arms tattoos are glorified by the sun's rays, the same illuminated smile is offered to you: that one you got during the very first time you saw him — instantly knowing he made you testimony the accuracy of freedom, catharsis and emotional amorous complement. that he'd be the one to introduce you what you never experienced, what you thought you'd never receive or deserve. what love truly is. when you were novices in your actual professions, not even imagining the future gifts of your unreal purposes.

"there you are!" intimately, dominik points at you, being reciprocated by vibrant nods and your old sort of secret — not that mysterious or serious — handshake. "még mindig emlékszel rá? (still remembering it?). you're a real one!"

"hogy tudnám elfelejteni? alábecsülsz engem. (how could i forget it? you're underestimating me)". your defensive actions demonstrate purposeful falseness. masking any sensitive, verbal or figurative communicative fragment from him is a difficulty that makes you give in over time. honestly, you never complain about this. it's like he wants to understand the factors and layers of you.

"a te kézfogás fickó. ne merészelj lecserélni engem. (your handshake man… don't you dare to replace me)". a shameless wink is send to you, butterflies acquiring space in your stomach.

"és hivatalosan is a szavamat adom rá. (and you officially have my word on it)." your gloss is pigmented against your fingers while you raise it up, displaying an oath, wondering if szoboszlai comprehends that his replacement in your life would be blasphemous.

"diplomata kisasszony, (miss diplomat)…" the hungarian fingerprints are shared and you recognize the sign to hold them, ready to perform your typical fashion icon moment. "gorgeous as always. go ahead! you know what to do!".

amusement surrounds you with the nickname's citation. although, you could feel some curious glances, from the outsiders, about the intimacy between you and him. "i appreciate, our top-class national bless…" you move your body in rotations to exclaim the outfit's characteristics, lifting your feet to show off the specificities of your heels. "how is your hair so well-groomed after sweating, though?" your arms cross and you raise an eyebrow in questioning, trying to hide your fascination.

"thank you, my number-one fan, but don't change the subject. finish our inside joke, c'mon!" dominik grabs his water bottle and spreads the cooling liquid on his forehead, wiping the glowing droplets across his face as he lifted his jersey high enough to exhibits his fortified abs.

your attention is directed to any surrounding scenery, throat being piked. szoboszlai pretends he doesn't notice, preventing to embarrass you.

"alright, alright! you've won, bájos úr… (mr. charming)". your final comment escapes as, practically, a whisper. you can't control the shy laughter, coupled with the considerable redness invading your cheeks.

"that's the secret to make my day!" using his tongue to reproduce a sharp noise, he matches your humorous reactions. "would you like me to show you the infrastructure changes? i'm just gonna take a shower!"

"i've already been granted a tour around here, but in case you insist…" during the dialogue, some athletes cross your space, wishing them good luck for the competition. your concentration on the activity is significant, at the point that dominik's silent admiration goes unnoticed.

"i mean, you know me! i'm gonna insist anyway, so…" he reaches your captivity, bringing you jollification.

"i'll rate you as a personal tour guide. now, go there!" jesting each other, you both exchange exaggerated reverences, like a challenge of who makes the most chaotic one.

────

walking around the area, various subjects are explored, informations entrusted. you ask and are updated about his ethereal younger sister.

portraits of the generations are framed. you magnifies his presence in celebratory pictures, dedicated to find him in the memories and achievements on that wall. pride shines from you and the hungarian finds it lovely.

"you know i'm a sucker for accents… they're much more than mere verbal characteristics, they're stories: life experiences, marks and scars. identities and cultural integrations." the topic is random. through generalized opinions, you're explaining conceptions and dominik is retaining mental observations. he exalts every scrap of your identity, like a faithful worshiper.

"basically, you're admitting being enchanted by my accent. i can see the stars in your eyes. a win is a win!" szoboszlai and his frequent attribute to physical touch, tickling your ears and playing with them. it doesn't bother you, actually: adoring the affection exuded by you and him. you feel like a little girl dealing with your one and only love.

"it's beautiful, how can you blame me? and hey, i know mine's making you grin too." he holds your arm, shivers running down your spine, the two of you being euphoric in the midst of your own enthusiasm.

"putting me against the wall? okay, hum… what were you saying before?" he's changing the subject and you have a natural wit to boo him. lifting his shoulders as a surrender, the hungarian focuses on the specific loose strands of his simple bracelet, which you get used to help him tie it again, willingly.

"trying to avoid the truth? fine! let me take care of you while i talk about my admiration towards globalization and communication. like, with every fiber of me…" you accept the conversation's direction and utter a 'voilà' towards the accessory's new appearance.

"that's why you're the best person i've ever seen doing this job." dominik compliments you, an act full of honesty.

"thanks a lot, mate. but which job? as your bracelet helper or my real one?" you provide tenderness, looking amused.

"i mean… both of them." szoboszlai chuckles, revealing courtesy by your continuous helpfulness.

"literally? because i know you know a lot of people. you're so young and already is the national team's captain." you nudge him in a form of tease. he's a starboy, it's undeniable.

"flattered! literally, thought. you were born for this, believe me." vulnerability collides to you, as his words are deliberated: emotions embracing you and warming your insides.

"dominik szoboszlai, my dear friend, you're gonna make me cry, right here. i'm sorry, i need to do it…"

innocent satisfaction builds strength over you and executes unthought-of approach to the tangibility of your gratitude — his colony enrapturing your sensitive olfaction — in the most out-of-control way. the sounds reach your hearing: a choir of angels singing hallelujah. he reciprocates the contact, laughing at your juvenile excitement. joining him and doing the same thing, harmonizing the triumph. in the separation of the touch, you both remain close to each other and the hungarian doesn't miss the opportunity to feel the softness of your side face, caressing the skin. appreciation and satisfaction invade your structure, delighting on the palm of his hand.

"just a dear friend? why are we pretending all this time?" dominik's reading you. the intimidation at the sight of him overhanging you is paralyzing. you don't usually back down, but in that instant — superior than your most repressed desires — your gasps are escaped.

"who is putting who against the wall now?" insisting and failing on your witty answers, shyness and uncertainty corrodes you.

"please, look at me! i'm not kidding anymore." his voice is questioning, intrigued — contradictorily vulnerable and calm — your rationality being fragmented, fragile.

"you know i'm not the kind of woman you're surrounding by, domi. i'm not an influencer, bikini model. i'm not a public figure. i don't live for the cameras and gossip platforms. i live to work hard. i didn't achieve any of this with some type of perk. my routine and your routine are based on traveling..." who could deny it? szoboszlai's always been all that you see. it's much more than a mere passion. your attraction to him is magnetic, intense, vivid. consequently, terrifying.

"i'm just asking for a chance, (your nickname). i don't lie when i say i've never met someone like you. i may be surrounded by a crowd and you'll still be the one to steal my attention, because nobody compares to you."

your eyelids are closed and the exhalation of his sigh penetrates your lungs with the numbing breath of life you've never experienced before. it's happening: the rare situation where thinking carefully about the pros and cons is unworthy, dumbness. your decision is made and the privilege's resolution unify your lips. the beginning demonstrates slowness and patience — the intensification through the concluded wait of the longed-for reality, transforming light and magical kisses into open mouths discovering each other and witnessing the endearment that both offer — hairs, necks, shoulders and waists captured.

"you're the first to create a meaningful presence in my mind and heart. i want you to be the last one too. i love you, kincs (my treasure). i'm finally brave enough to demonstrate it with no fears." dominik's forearm covers your upper torso. your back against his chest, noses resting on each others. rejoicing at the miraculous, incomparable circumstance.

"i love you, drágám (my precious). you're finally mine and it was so fucking worth waiting." his whisper: the living proof of celestial existence.

"how blessed we are…" intertwined bodies, coalesced essences. solitary melodies turning into the sweetest and most complete symphony.

[atydblack]

"only shadow"

regulus black x reader

masterlist

heres some regulus black fluff to soothe the soul while i get back into writing &lt;3

this isn't my best tbh but i think its cute

reader is a bit annoying in this but it turns out cute lol

title based on only shadow - my bloody valentine

You sat in the library, trying to focus your attention on the homework you had sprawled out in front of you but your eyes kept drifting to the hard faced brunette sat on the table next to you.

The library was almost empty, so Regulus Black being the root of your distraction wasn't a surprise. His eyebrows were furrowed as his book had his undivided attention.

"Psss" You whisper to Regulus with a giggle.

He tilts his head slightly, his face still laced with a frown. "Yes?" He responds, not even bothering to look at you.

"What are you doing?" You push further, looking for any source of entertainment.

"Reading." He replies bluntly, his eyes still not lifting from his book.

"I'm bored." You stand to your feet and sit yourself next to him with a pout.

"How unfortunate." He rolls his eyes and slams his book shut. "I'm trying to read and that would require you to go away."

"That was mean." You pout again, trying to tease him.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but that's kind of my thing." He muttered.

You smirk and try to think of the best ways to get under his skin.

"Being mean doesn't suit you." You tease, resting your head in your hand. "You're too pretty."

His face softens at your words and you almost see a small blush raise to his cheeks.

"You're really annoying you know that?" He muttered, trying to hide any emotion your words might have caused him.

"I can't help it." You giggle as you realise you're finally getting to him. "It's kind of my thing."

A hint of a smirk reaches Regulus' face as he realises you're teasing him. It was definitely getting hard for him not to completely cave in to you.

"Did I just make Regulus Black smile?" You pretend to be shocked, teasing him further.

"Shut up." He mumbled, he wanted to deny the blush that had found his cheeks, but he couldn't.

It was as if he was playing a game, with her as the enemy... and he was losing.

"Make me." You giggle again, trying your hardest to push his buttons. You were having fun playing this game with him, watching as his tough exterior slowly crumbled.

"I could." He smirked, his eyebrows furrowing as he didn't break eye contact with you. He wasn't used to being the submissive one, dominance being one of the only things that mattered to him.

"Then why don't you?" You smirk. "You don't scare me."

"If you weren't so cute right now, I probably would." His face was still laced with a smirk as he moved closer to you. This time it was your turn for your cheeks to blush as the tables quickly turned, you weren't expecting him to play back.

"You think I'm cute?" You tease and tilt your head, not wanting to show his words affected you.

"I might." His eyes darkened as his eyes scanned your body and returned back to your eyes. "It's just a shame you're so annoying."

You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, your heart sinking softly at his words but you didn't want him to know you cared.

Regulus had to prevent himself from laughing as he watched you strop. He was starting to like this game, something back how you were looking up at him made him feel powerful.

As much as it annoyed him, he was starting to accept that he wanted you.

"What's the matter?" He grinned. "Your bark bigger than your bite?"

"No," You scoff and regain composure, immediately trying to shake the feeling that came over you. "I'm just shocked I've actually managed to get you to talk to me for this long."

"You're actually quite amusing." His eyes flickered down to your lips and back up to your eyes and you try to ignore the growing heat in your stomach.

"I know." You stare back, trying to think of any way to regain control of the situation. You reached up to his tie and began fiddling with it in between your fingers, causing his body to move closer to yours.

"Cocky as well as annoying?" He muttered, ignoring the jolt of electricity that ran down his body at your touch.

"I'm learning from the best." You shrug, avoiding his dark eyes that were sewn on to your every move.

"What else are you learning from me?" His voice was low as he spoke. Your mind raced with ideas of where to take this situation, and there was only one answer.

"How much you want me." Your eyes fluttered up to his once again, an innocent look on your face that contradicted your seductive smirk.

Regulus' breathing hitched in his throat giving you more confidence. Your hands that held on to his tie snaked up to wrap around his neck. His closed his eyes for just a moment as blood coursed through his body in a way he'd never felt before.

"Maybe you're right." He whispered, his throat felt as if every breath he took was being squeezed by the girl in front of him. He was losing control of himself.

Regulus' words ignited a fire in you that you'd never experienced before. Your confidence got the best of you as you as you spoke again.

"Then I'm all yours." You breathed out, not breaking eye contact. A rush of desire flooded through the both of you, making you both weak.

He was losing control of himself and so were you... the both of you finally giving in to seduction.

"Mine?" He uttered, the words barely finding their way out his parched throat.

You nod your head submissively, the way you were looking up at him made him feel powerful.

"Good girl," He smirked before leaning forward and planting a soft kiss on your lips.

You had both kissed plenty of others before, but this was different. The two of you melted into the kiss and a soft moan left your lips.

Regulus was just as lost in the moment as you and neither of you wanted to pull away.

His tongue found yours just as your fingertips found the hair on the nape of his neck and the kiss grew more passionate.

He eventually broke the kiss slowly, his breath heavy. Your heart was racing and your red cheeks matched his.

It felt like the whole world had stopped and he didn't even care. You stared into each others eyes, your thoughts of anything but each other completely escaping your mind.

"I still find you annoying." He smirked

[calumcxke]

COME OVER AND LOVE ME

basketball player!taehyun x fem reader

genre: best friends to lovers, slight idiots to lovers, fluff, slight angst

word count: 5.2k

summary: after mulling over taehyun for years, am oppurtunity to confess your feelings presents itself, but things take a bad turn

warnings: kissing?, mature language, beomgyu's kinda a menace, real teenage romance movie vibes, not rlly proofread

notes: for my bestie @bluetyunhour ,, <3 also my first time ever actually posting a fanfic,, im scared lol

 ♫: playlist

you loved taehyun. 

he was your best friend, and had been your best friend for as long as you could remember. he was your comfort, your safe space, and just an amazing person.

your wide-eyed, curious best friend.

you weren’t aware when- but your feelings for him changed. all of a sudden, he wasn’t just your best friend, he was someone you wanted to be something more with. 

maybe it was when he joined the basketball team sophomore year. noticing just how fit your best friend really was. 

you would catch yourself blushing when he said something, blood rushing into your cheeks at his little comments. mundane classes were now filled with excitement simply because he was there. 

you didn’t know if he had notices the change/ you hoped he hadn’t noticed the change. the last thing you wanted to do was ruin your friendship with taehyun because you couldn’t control the way your heart felt.

you tried desperately to push all the feelings down, trying your hardest to not let taehyun’s heart-stopping antics effect you. 

it seemed as though it was all in vain. no matter how hard you pushed, buried, drowned your feelings out- they just because stronger. 

you had tried to distance yourself, telling taehyun you were “too busy” or had “too much homework”. little excuses that were believable!

taehyun was too nice though. moving his schedule around so he could make time to hang out with you, even skipping practice one day so he could stay in your house and watch a movie sprawled out on the couch with you.

you had no escape from him, and although you were desperately trying to find an escape from being near him so often, being suffocated by his presence everywhere you went because everything reminded you of him- you knew you couldn’t be without him. 

you desiderated to be with him. you wanted nothing more than to call him yours.

-

“you’re gonna be rooting for me tonight, yeah?”, taehyun’s voice sounded behind you, making you jump slightly from his sudden appearance.

“of course i am, what kind of best friend would i be if i didn’t?”, you spun around to look at him, trying to keep a calm composure as you took in his outfit.

his black hair framed his face perfectly, a white polo adorning his top, with a navy blue crewneck overtop, khaki shorts on, showing off his long legs. 

he knew how to style himself, and you knew he knew he looked good. he smiled softly at you, before stepping forward and pulling you into a hug.

he breathed out a sigh, his chin resting on the top of your head, “what would i do without you?”

you felt suffocated. everything about him was suffocating. his cologne was filling your senses, his strong arms holding you against him.

“you’d die without me, obviously.”

you felt his laugh rumble in his chest, his telltale giggle leaving his lips. he moved his head back to look down at you, everything felt entirely too intimate for you. 

“y/n…”, his voice trailed off a bit, eyebrows furrowing a bit as he looked like he was trying to collect the words he wanted to use in his mind.

“yes?”

“do you maybe want-“

“taehyun!”

a voice coming from the entrance made both your beads turn, taking the chance to untangle yourself from taehyun’s arms, smiling awkwardly at beomgyu, who had walked in. 

“i’m gonna go, i’ll see you guys later?”, you excused yourself quietly, waving at the two boys before heading out of the room, not missing the way beomgyu sent you a sly smile, feeling as though a brick was lifted off your chest the second you made it out.

you could only yearn for taehyun from the sidelines of your heart, never fully being able to tell him just how you felt, never even being able to hint at it, holding all your love and admiration for him in a special place in your heart, keeping it protected so you could never be let down.

over time, you feared your facade was breaking down, your love for taehyun shining through for your best friend's eyes, but never for his. it was as though it was invisible to him, something everyone could see but him.

maybe you were doing something wrong. no- maybe there was just something wrong with you. who falls in love with their best friend? who lets themself dangerously tiptoe between the lines of friendship and lover, lines that were blurred to no one else but you.

you threw your head back with a groan, fighting the frustrated tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, overflowing with yet another wave of regret as you grumbled to yourself while walking away, probably looking like a psycho to anyone else.

-

you watched taehyun run with his teammates, captivating your view as he was the only thing visible in your line of sight. 

you heard the cheers, you heard the claps, you heard the whistles, you heard everything. you saw everything. but at the same time- you didn’t.

whenever taehyun was on the court, immersing himself in the game, losing himself in the thrill of it all, the cheers that pushed him, motivated him, he was captivating to you. 

the way he smiled brightly when they scored, pearly eyes glistening as he celebrated with him teammates, yelling an exclamation that had a large smile pulling itself on your lips as you clapped and cheered with the crowd, exclaiming for the man you loved.

the game continued on slowly, when the opposing team would score, your team would score, it was a race to the end, and neither team was backing down.

you knew why this game was so important. it was the pre-qualifiers for tournaments, and getting to those meant big things- obviously.

you were stressed, to put it simply. you found it funny sometimes, how you had never been a fan of basketball, never payed it any mind, never growing an interest in it- or any sports- in the slightest. 

that was until taehyun started playing. 

he would meet you after practice, telling you everything that went down, how he dunked perfectly, how he scored perfectly from the center of the court!

you nodded along every time, pretending to understand the words and rules that were coming out of his mouth.

it sounded like simlish to you. 

taehyun must’ve caught on to this at some point, because soon he was begging you to just watch one NBA game with him.

“pleeease, y/n. just one, i just want you to be able to understand.”, he whined, pulling on your arm as you stared up at him exasperatedly.

“why are you so adamant about this? it’s not like i’m the one playing!”

“well, yeah,”, he looked a bit dejected, “but i want my favorite person to know what i’m doing when she comes to my games.”

your breath caught in your throat as your eyes widened slightly, not having enough time to control your reactions as his words hit you.

“well- i- i mean, sure. yeah. i could watch like… one game.”, your words stumbled out of your mouth, your brain had completely shut down, words spilling out like an avalanche as you attempted- and failed- to regain your composure and not look like you were seconds away from ripping your hair out of your head.

he sent you a sly smile, seemingly aware of the effect he had on you. little shit. why were you even friends with him?

he pinched your check, muttering something about you being cute before sauntering off to your couch, “thank you! i’ll put on one of my favorite games!”

rolling your eyes, you realized you had once again fallen victim to your overwhelming feelings for taehyun, giving into anything he wanted because how could you ever say no to him?

and so you sat with him, listening as he explained what the referees were calling out, pausing the television every few minutes to go in depth on a subject, hands flying around and such a serious expression on his face, you almost got distracted by him before you had to catch yourself.

but the more he ranted, the more you realized that seeing him ramble on and on about something he was so passionate about was something you wanted to see more of. so, you let him play another game, and another… and another.

over time, you slowly realized that you were becoming interested in basketball. whether it was genuine interest, or you gaslighting yourself to be interested because of taehyun’s love, you weren’t sure. 

but you learned all the rules.

every time taehyun had free time, he would come over and watch a new game with you, chips and drinks surrounding you two as you immersed yourselves in the television, face scrunching up when something unfortunate happened.

it got to a point where you caught yourself complaining out loud when they called a foul, eyes rolling and asking taehyun, are they serious, before angrily stuffing chips into your mouth.

and soon you were jumping up with him when the team you were rooting for won, exclaiming with him as you did your little happy dance in the living room, never once stopping to question how stupidly uncoordinated you looked. 

then you were at his practices, you were bringing him lunch, you were watching him play. you became close with his teammates, learning all their names, and even know as he played in college and roomed with 4 of his teammates who you had grown close with, you were still going to his practices when you had time. it was a routine.

basketball had grown to be something you loved, and enjoyed. and you had taehyun to thank for all of it.

a yell tore you out of your daydreaming, zoning back in on the game as you realized the game was about to end, and taehyun’s team needed to score this point to win the game.

you let your elbows rest on your knees as you leaned forward, concentration etched on your face as you watched the ball travel back and forth between players, the loud squeaks of shoes rubbing against the gym floor slightly causing your eyes to twitch, but you stayed focused.

players on the opposing team were starting to become restless, and you picked up on that, noticing taehyun did as well, his eyes zoning in on the ball as he grounded himself to watch where the ball was going next before he leapt into action.

he weaved through the players easily, dodging hands and bodies that tried to block him, easily swiping the ball from underneath another player, holding onto the ball as he spun away from the man before letting the ball drop to the ground again as he dribbled it easily, making his way to the middle of the court.

you watched as he closed his eyes for a quick second, eyebrows furrowing as he pushed breath out his lips. you noticed it was a habit he had picked up, when he was getting ready to shoot, and he was concentrated, he made that face. you found it endearing.

with 5 seconds left on the clock, his eyes opened back up, a dark gaze in them as he zoned in on the basket. his arms lifted up, his fingers gliding off the ball easily as he shot it into the air, watching as it rolled through the air, landing in the basket and scoring a point easily.

the room erupted with cheers as you realized taehyun had won the game. he had made the winning shot. he was going to the tournaments.

you couldn’t hold back the yell that escaped your throat as you screamed for him, watching as his head turned towards your voice, before he was running straight to you with a wide, confident smile on his face.

“did you see what i did?”, he practically yelled over the cheers, arms pulling you into his embrace before quickly pulling back, hands coming up to hold onto the sides of your face.

you breath caught in your throat, a warmth spreading across your whole body, “yes! you were amazing!”

he stared at you for a second, not saying anything. there was once again the expression you couldn’t read on his face, his brows furrowing the tiniest bit.

you didn’t have time to think about it too much though, because as you opened your mouth to say something, you felt a pair of soft lips press against yours.

a small gasp left your lips, your whole body melting into taehyun’s touch and kissing him back before you even processed what you were doing.

his lips moved against yours perfectly, soft lips enveloping your own as his hands caressed your face, his touch featherlight, but somehow still holding you in place.

he pulled away slowly, pressing his forehead against your own as heavy breaths escaped the both of you.

you didn’t know what had just happened. your brain was going blank, thoughts seemingly disappearing into this air as you tried to recollect yourself, tried to make any sense over what had just happened.

your eyes fluttered open, staring into taehyun’s eyes, not knowing exactly what to say. a dark red blush covered his cheeks, and he carefully removed his hands from your face and pulled his face away from yours, reality slowly hitting the both of you.

“i.. i don’t know why i did that.”

oh.

did he regret it?

you didn’t know what to say. your felt as though your mouth had gone dry, eyes blinking haphazardly and mouth stuttering open and closed.

“oh..”, was all that you were able to get out.

taehyun opened his mouth to speak again, but before he could get any words out, soobin was clapping him on the back, thanking him for winning and doing so well for the team.

“hey, y/n!”, he greeted you quickly, before his eyes were quickly fleeting back to taehyun.

you didn’t have it in you to reply at the moment.

you watched as taehyun was dragged away, eyes holding contact with yours for as long as he could until bodies were blocking his view from you, turning him around, speaking to him, thanking him, things he should’ve wanted to hear.

but he didn’t.

he didn’t want to hear those things right now.

he wanted to speak to you, he wanted to be able to tell you it wasn’t a mistake, he knew why he kissed you. he kissed you because he was in love with you. truly, madly, deeply in love with you in such an irrevocable way he couldn’t change it even if he tried.

but as he desperately looked at the spot where you were standing seconds ago, he saw no one, the ghost of the incident that had happened between you two seconds ago replaying in your mind.

you tried to hold back your tears as you stumbled through the doors of the gym, not knowing what to do or think or feel or..

you were overstimulated, wanting everything to slow down and speed up at the same time.

finally, the flood of tears you were holding back broke, tears streaming down your face freely as you tried to make your way to your car as quickly as you could, not wanting anyone to see or hear the way ugly sobs were leaving your mouth.

you didn’t know why taehyun had kissed you.

you thought for a second he felt the same way as you, maybe he was as deeply in love with you as you were with him!

but the way he looked after, the expression on his face, the words that left his mouth..

you felt stupid.

you felt stupid. there was no other words to describe how you felt. foolish. you were foolish for thinking that way for even a second.

and as you climbed into your car, a whole new wave of emotions hit you as more sobs wrecked your body, letting your head hit the steering wheel as regret coursed through your veins.

what had you done?

-

you were a wreck.

you hadn’t called taehyun in two days, hadn’t texted him, you hadn’t even been going to school for the sole fear of running into him.

your friends had noticed your absence, knowing that something like this was not part of the norm for you, so you had been getting bombarded with messages asking if you were okay, if you were feeling sick, if you needed someone to talk to.

you replied with a simple “i’m fine<3” every time. because how lame would you seem if you told them you had fallen into some type of depression because you had kissed your best friend?

there was something so delicate about your and taehyun’s friendship now, and you were scared that if you messed with it in the slightest, it would rip. and you couldn’t risk losing your best friend.

but what if by not talking to him you were losing him?

what if you talked to him and lost him that way?

too many negative thoughts were swirling in your mind like a hurricane ravishing a town, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake.

perhaps it was time to just… watch netflix while cuddled in your favorite blanket, blocking out the rest of the world and all your worries.

yeah, that sounded really nice right about now.

-

taehyun had been anxiously checking his phone nonstop for the past two days.

debating whether he should text you first, or wait for you to reach out first.

he was in such a dilemma, he didn’t know what to do to solve this.

actually, the answer was simple. but was he ever actually going to confess to you?

that’s funny.

the boys didn’t want to say anything the first day, brushing it off as them looking too deeply into things.

but this was not how taehyun acted normally. no, he carried himself so confidently. he knew what he wanted. he didn’t back down. this taehyun they had seem moping around the dorm, school, and even practice- a place where all his worries usually disappeared- was not the taehyun they knew.

“hey, taehyun," yeonjun called, taking the spot next to him on the couch, “have you been feeling alright lately?”

taehyun’s head jerked up, a bit of confusion painting his face as he stared at his older friend, “yeah, i’ve been fine. why?”

“you just haven’t been acting like your normal self lately. wanted to make sure everything was alright.”, yeonjun explained, sending a small smile taehyun’s way before getting ready to move on with his day after being reassured taehyun was indeed okay.

while standing up from the couch, he felt a slight tug on his shirt and turned around to see taehyun lightly grabbing onto his shirt, a conflicted look in his eyes. 

“taehyun,” he sat down once again, giving his full attention to him, “what’s going on?”

he stayed quiet for a bit, obviously not knowing how to approach this conversation in any way.

“are you done watching tv? i wanna play my game.”, beomgyu’s voice echoed down the hall, bouncing into the living room without a care in the world.

“beomgyu, just wait a second, alright?”, yeonjun asked him, and beomgyu immediately noticed how yeonjun was in his “big serious brother mode”- a name the boys had made for when he got like this- and slowly walked over to the couch, taking a seat near taehyun.

“continue, taehyun.”

taehyun shook his head lightly, “i don’t even know where to start.”

“well, just try and explain it. i’ll wait.”, yeonjun reassured him, and taehyun was grateful to have such caring friends for a second.

“imightvekissedy/natthebasketballgametwodaysagoandnowidontknowwhattodo.”

yeonjun’s head visibly shot back from the speed of which the words were thrown at him, not even being able to pick out a few.

beomgyu’s voice filled the silence, “what the fuck did you just say?”

“slow down your words, tae.”

“okay,” he took a deep breath before clearing his throat, “i kissed y/n at the basketball game two days ago when we won because i was excited and now i don’t know what to do, i’m afraid i ruined our friendship. i told her i didn’t know why i kissed her and didn’t say anything else”

silence.

no one said anything for a solid five seconds, if you listened closely enough you would probably be able to hear the neighbors next door.

taehyun said nothing as he stared at yeonjun awaiting his reaction, for him to say something, anything, but all he was getting was a dumbfounded look in return.

then beomgyu’s laugh filled the room, loud and boisterous as he smacked taehyun on his back, hard enough to make taehyun spin around with an exasperated look.

“dude, are you fucking stupid?”, beomgyu exclaimed after calming himself down, smiling at taehyun.

“this isn’t funny, beomgyu. i seriously don’t want to lose her!”, taehyun sighed, letting his head rest in his hands as he took a deep breath to calm himself down.

yeonjun moved himself a bit closer to taehyun, patting his back as he tried to form his next sentence.

“look, taehyun, i’m pretty sure beomgyu’s not laughing to make fun of you, it’s just-“, he started, before being rudely cut off.

“she’s been in love with you for years!”

taehyun’s head shot up at the sound of that, staring at beomgyu with an incredulous look.

“what?”

“i’m surprised you haven’t realized. we all know, i guess you’re the only one that didn’t.”, beomgyu continued, speaking as if this was supposed to be common knowledge to taehyun.

it sounded like some alien language to him.

you? in love with him? there’s no way he didn’t notice.

“beomgyu, you better not be fucking lying to me right now.”, taehyun spoke, brain running into overdrive.

“he’s not.”, yeonjun spoke this time, sending taehyun a reassuring smile.

“i’ve spoken to her about it before. i told her to just tell you because it wouldn’t go as badly as she was thinking. she’s honestly head over heels for you.”, he continued.

“but-“, taehyun tried to speak, before being cut off by yeonjun once again.

“and, to be quite honest, you ghosting her after randomly kissing her out of nowhere, then proceeding to tell her you didn’t know why you did… that has to be making her feel like shit, knowing how much she likes you.”, yeonjun finished. he made sure to give taehyun a disappointed dad look.

taehyun was standing up in a second, the boys not even being able to process how fast he was moving until he was pulling on his shoes by the door.

“taehyun, where’re you going?”, yeonjun asked, and instead of getting a reply, he got the door shutting in his face.

“it’s raining, taehyun get a jacket!”, beomgyu also

called out to him, but his warnings fell on dead ears as taehyun was long gone.

there was nothing but adrenaline coursing through his veins as he pushed through the heavy rain, ignoring the way the fat droplets stung his skin, feeling himself become more and more drenched with each king stride he took, already knowing he would be getting a cold from this, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

all he knew was that he needed to make things up to you.

if only he had picked up on the signs that were apparently obvious to everyone else, maybe you would’ve been his by now, but he was so oblivious to everything that he missed every little sign and hint you threw his way.

he pushed past people walking on the street, not even bothering to apologize as he cut people off, mind fixed on one thing and one thing only.

feet slipping on wet concrete as he caught himself from falling too many times to count at this point.

he finally made it to your apartment building, standing outside for a few seconds to catch his breath and make sure he actually knew what he was about to do.

he thought he should’ve been second guessing at least one part of this by now, but he wasn’t. not one single thing.

he stared up at the floor you lived on, mentally readying himself for whatever outcome he walked out of the building with. he just needed you to know, needed you to understand how far the extent of his feelings for you were. 

he was indisputably in love with you.

-

you had to say, sitting on the couch for seven hours straight was slowly making you feel worse rather better. 

you had nothing else to do though, and you refused to leave the house for reasons that were obvious to you only.

so, watching reruns of gilmore girls had become your new reality for the last couple days, curled under your favorite blanket with a snack in arms reach at all times.

it was entertaining at first, it distracted you, and it felt like the start of summer break, when you did absolutely nothing for a couple days and just savored not being in school. 

at this point though, you just felt like you were rotting into the couch. your mind drifted off to your movie marathons with taehyun every once in a while, and you would have to turn off the tv and get on your phone for a bit.

it was like he followed you around everywhere. even if he wasn’t there in person, you tried to do everything you could to distract yourself, to think of anything besides him.

but your mind would always come back to him. you would find some way to relate what you were doing with him, and that would ruin your day all over again.

presently, you were watching pretty little liars, starting to venture into shows you had watched years and years ago.

you were just getting to a good scene when a knock sounded on your door.

you weren’t expecting company, confused as you stood up from the couch to slowly make your way over to the door.

god, no one needed to see you in this state, you were praying it was just a delivery guy or something.

you hadn’t ordered anything though, so that seemed implausible.

looking through your peephole, you felt as though all the air was ripped from your lungs.

taehyun was standing on the other side.

you almost didn’t open it, wanting to turn the other way and run straight for your bedroom, but you knew you were going to have to speak to him about what happened sooner or later.

he was also soaking wet, and you felt bad for him.

slowly, you opened the door, feeling meek as your eyes met his, trying to not break down on the spot.

“taehyun.. what are you doing here,” you looked him up and down, “and why are you soaking wet?”

you grabbed a hold of his forearm so you could pull him inside, immediately setting him down on the couch as you began to trudge off to your room to grab him clothes he had left the last time he was here.

you were trying so hard to hold yourself together right now.

reaching into your closet to grab his clothes, you heard footsteps approach from behind you.

“y/n.”

you didn’t turn to face him, instead keeping your eyes trained ahead, refusing to let yourself break.

“you can just listen, that’s fine.”

you heard a quiet sigh, before he began speaking again.

“i.. i know i messed up a few days ago. honestly, i don’t know what was going through my head. i mean, i do know. i wanted to kiss you. i really like you, i mean, i honestly think i’m in love with you but- i just, that wasn’t the right time to act on my feelings for you. and i was in shock about what i did so i just.. i said i didn't know why i did it. i do know. i did it because i’m in love with you, and i don’t know if you feel the same way, beomgyu told me you did which is why i ran all the way over here but-“

“taehyun.”

you had turned around while he was mid rant, and he didn’t even realize, looking at the ground while he talked, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, and his own hands. he was obviously incredibly nervous.

“hm?”, his voice was meek, eyes meeting yours once again.

“i’m in love with you, too. i have been for years.”, you replied quietly, a small smile on your lips, watching the way his eyes lit up at your sentence.

he took two quick steps towards you before his lips were on yours once again.

hands pressed on either side of your face, holding you like you would disappear if he let go.

there was so much emotion, so many more feelings than you thought could be exchanged through a simple kiss.

his lips molded with yours perfectly, moving against you in a way that made you feel complete. you were once again completely surrounded by him, but you enjoyed it this time.

you felt like you were on cloud nine, your hands sliding all over his arms, trying to find some way to ground yourself.

very carefully, you felt his tongue prod at your lips, and your mouth was opening before you knew what you were doing.

mouths working together in such a love-filled way, you let all your inhibitions go, completely falling into this new feeling, and letting yourself be fully surrounded by it.

was this what people meant when they talked about a true love’s kiss?

the only reason you pulled away was due to your lungs starting to burn from the lack of oxygen, keeping your eyes closed as you caught your breath.

“so pretty..”, you heard taehyun whisper, and you couldn’t fight the shy smile that formed on your lips.

your eyes fluttered open softly, letting out a quiet giggle once you met his eyes, head leaning into the crook of his neck as your hands circled his waist, holding him so close to you.

a laugh erupted from his lips at your action, “god, you’re so cute.”

this is what true love felt like. you knew it then and there. this is what all the characters in romance movies talk about, this is the feeling they try to convey. you understood it now. and it felt amazing.

you pulled away to look at him, “so, we’re like.. dating now right?”

another small chuckle left his lips.

“well, y/n, do you want to be my girlfriend?”, he asked dramatically, taking on the voice of a prince after saving the princess.

it was your turn to burst into laughter, slapping his chest lightly and rolling your eyes.

“you’re supposed to take a moment like this seriously! but yes, i do want to be your girlfriend.”

“good, because there was no way i was letting you go.”, he confessed quietly, a hand coming to hold your face as his thumb stroked your cheek.

you leaned up to capture his lips with yours once again, a small peck before you pulled back. taehyun’s lips tried to follow yours, but you only giggled softly, pulling back more and more.

“i’m not done kissing you.”

you were in for a long night.

lollll i hope u enjoyed :)))))

[thebearer]

just thinking about carmy x shy reader who used to have the biggest crush on him when they went to school!! and carmy thought she liked mikey !

oh my god i can totally see him and now i can only think of two ghosts by harry styles ahhhh. little fluff blurb ahead for the soul <3

they go to prom together, their senior year just as friends. carmy bc donna is making him, and you... bc carmy asked you out lol. mikey set the whole thing up, he knew how much you likes carm. you were always coming over and following carmen around like a lost puppy. mikey felt bad for you, sorta, felt bad that you were so hopelessly in love with his oblivious younger brother.

carmen moved to new york and you stayed in chicago, only to reconnect years later at none other than mikey's funeral. carmen looked bad, sad and distant, but there was a glimmer of his old self when he talked to you. familiar. good.

it was a challenge, pushing yourself into the life of carmen berzatto again. two old friends catching up over coffee, first. then going to a ghost tour, because mikey used to swear it was the most entertaining shit (swore he'd see uncle jimmy on there eventually too lol). you'd help him at the beef when he'd call, helplessly needing assistance fixing some odd appliance. he'd make you greasy italian sandwiches and you'd spilt them sitting at the sticky booths, reminiscing.

it wasn't until weeks later, when things started to take a turn for the best. when carmen realized that "oh shit she's like into me into me???" he'd kissed you that night, in your apartment living room. it was rushed and a little sloppy. he'd blushed so hard after that, stammering and nervous in the low light of the room. you'd only grinned, pulling him back in.

"i- fuck- i didn't want to-to come across like that. i just... i'm sorry. i don't know why i... it felt- i don't know, i'm sorry." carmen is a stuttering mess, feeling his heart rate rise and like he might throw up at any given second.

"why are you sorry? i liked it, carmy, c'mon." you just give him a sideways, lopsided grin.

"what? are you- are you fuckin' with me right now? don't... you liked it?"

"of course i liked it. sophomore me is shitting herself right now."

"in a good way?"

you laugh, nodding. "in a very good way. c'mon, bear, don't fuck with me right now." you glare at him playfully. "you don't have to act like you didn't know i was in love with you."

"what?" carmen's eyes bulging tells you otherwise. "you-you... no, you didn't like me. you liked mikey."

"mikey?" you repeat. "carmen... i liked mikey because, i mean he was mikey, everyone liked mikey. but i had a crush on you."

carmen wasn't sure what to say, heart pounding hard in his throat, strangling the words. "really?"

you nodded, grinning gently. "i mean, you were too obsessed with claire bear to notice-"

"-oh, c'mon. don't do that." carmen cringed shaking his head.

"you did!" you laughed, jabbing his chest lightly. "you'd always talk to her in math and sketch all those pictures." you tried not to sound as hurt as your fifteen year old self had been. how you'd cried into your pillow when you found them. how you tried to make yourself look just like claire, act like her too so maybe carmen might notice you.

carmen blushed, looking down at his shoes. "well, i, uh... if it makes you feel any better. i-i was drawin' you too, ya know." he couldn't look at you, blushing positively boyishly at the admission.

it was silly. so silly and so sweet and it shouldn't have made you feel the way you did, but it did. you kissed him, two hands on the side of his cheeks, tumbling back on the sofa with him. a long, overdue kiss.

the next day, carmen asked you to come by the beef, telling you there was something that got dropped off for you while trying to figure out bills.

you opened the envelope to find a faded, crumpled piece of notebook paper, the light etchings of you on it with the algebra homework from mr. weir's junior year class.

[hxltic]

I’M SORRY. MASTUKAWA ISSEI

• 200 FOLLOWERS!! 😻😻😻

• Genre: smut

• Warnings: female reader, college, slight angst at first, overstimulation, rough counter sex, choking, hair pulling, degradation, daddy kink, cunnilingus, pretty long but please don’t let it scare you off lol

-I just love comfort roommate Mattsun

You slept horribly. You thank the universe your classes had mercy. Though you still called into work, unfortunately, and even more to your demise— there was a huge sale that made folding restock clothes a pain.

Slumping through the door, getting your shower in, and throwing on the first shirt you found from the laundry room was very efficient until you got into bed.

You lay there.

Comfortably uncomfortable.

You were hot, but taking the covers off wasn’t an option. You felt every fiber or hair against your body. Your feet were cold. A growling noise erupted from your stomach.

Angrily, the covers are thrown off, where you stomp your way to the kitchen while dismissing the new breeze of air brushing your skin. No jacket, in shorts, waltzing around the apartment scavenging for food. You wish the feeling of the air conditioning didn’t bother you as much as the sound did, because it printed an obvious sign of irritation on your face.

Then the fire alarm beeped.

Taking a deep breath, you begrudgingly conclude yourself unsuccessful in finding something to nibble on. When you turn around, the corner of the kitchen table seemed to stick out more than usual.

Lo and behold it hit the corner of your already cold foot. You drop to your elbows on the counter in annoyance where hold your head, tugging probably unhealthily at your eyes from stress, trying your best not to fall to the ground and cry.

You immediately removed even the thought of tears when the door sounded.

“Honey I’m home.” Mattsun closes the door behind him.

He just got back from afternoon classes with only a handful of groceries. Your roommate started the “I’m home” thing as a joke, yet it carried farther than that as time went on. You correct yourself and try to help with the groceries at least a little bit, picking up what you could find in the bags and placing them in their correct spot.

Mattsun could obviously tell something was off the second he walked in. He watched you stutter and quickly regather yourself even though it looked as if you were on the verge of tears. He would’ve asked why by now, if he didn’t know that you probably didn’t know yourself. He was right. You didn’t.

Hard days never got to you, but as the homework piled up with your micromanaging boss, it went straight to the mini notepad in your brain listing all you had to do. It was fine until you had to flip to the next page, then the ink started getting all runny. You aren’t sure what caused it; but it happened. You held the milk mindlessly in your hand.

Mattsun scooted behind you towards the refrigerator. You were in the area between the island and the main counter, causing his front to press up against you innocently, an angered grunt dropping from your lips.

“Could you not go around?” You turn to him swiftly, your palm facing upwards to emphasize your feelings.

“Didn’t really think it mattered. You calling me fat?” He opened the refrigerator door. Usually you’d laugh, but it only turned your brows farther inwards.

“Yeah, it does. Go the other fucking way.” You spat. With the roll of your eyes, you slid the milk into the already opened fridge. You stepped back so that Matsukawa could close it, hand already on the handle—but when nothing happened, you turned around to see the tall male staring at you in disbelief. He literally just got home.

“…What?”

“The hell is up with you?” He asks regularly.

“Nothing,” you shrug and brush it off, “it was just unnecessary.”

“Well it’s clearly something,” he retaliates, “I’ve been practically crucified the ten seconds I’ve been here.” He closes the door and laughs humorlessly to himself.

“Whatever. It’s nothing.”

He starts, “Really? The-“

“God-it’s nothing! It’s nothing.”

The aggressive hand motions come back, then you finally take about four different things from the second-to-last bag and put them up hastily, even in your tired state.

He observes you from the counter with every step you take and every heavy breath you let in. Like you’re fighting an entire war with yourself.

It finally clicked in his mind: he said the wrong things in the wrong moment, and it wasn’t what you needed right now. He just wished he would’ve noticed sooner.

“Hey, my bad—I’m sorry. Should’ve went around.”

His voice wasn’t careless now, but soft. You heard him but just moved on to the last bag. Before you can pull something out, he takes it and tells you that you can go lay down. Better yet, that he’d handle everything else.

“It’s fine, I can do it.” You reach again and he pulls it away. “Give it.” The quicker you are, quicker he is.

You sigh and pull back. You wanted to slap the shit out of him but he wouldn’t budge.

“Do you always have to be like this?”

He cocks his head to the side. He was curious. It could tell how you actually feel about him, the kind of things you don’t tell people to their face.

“Like what?”

“Aggravatingly annoying,” you blatantly answered.

His expression changed for a second. He refuses to get louder, only talking in a low volume, casual tone.

“That I am.”

“Why can’t you just come in and go to your room to study or something?”

“I will next time.”

“Why do you always have to be by me?”

Hm…

Accepting it and having it your way he felt was the best thing to do. He’s been called annoying before, even irritating due to his constant teasing. But hearing it from you—really the main one he talks to that isn’t Makki— hurt a bit. You saw his eyes widen for a slight half a second more before reverting to his usual apathetic face.

He knew you didn’t mean it. He knew you were overstimulated. Giving in to you and whatever you said was what you needed, not someone to fight you on things. Yeah it fucking hurt; however, you were speaking out of temporary emotion rather than logic or feelings, so if not stressing you out in this way was what he’d have to do, he’d do it.

The truth was: you really couldn’t stand being by him. Hearing him walk in while you read in your bed, then casually throw his things to the wall and flop down at your feet. Or when you would come in later and he’d be sat criss cross on the couch, a spot waiting for you right next to him. You couldn’t decipher if these were regular friendly activities or not and it swam through your mind all throughout the day.

Was it just his personality? Did it mean anything to him? Were you being dramatic? All the hugs, the studying, the dinner nights. Were those dates? Did they have the same effect on him that they had on you? Were they even on purpose?

The silence was deafening and palpable, the gaze he held intimidatingly normal. Didn’t you just yell at him? How is he so calm? You had come back to your senses, staring up at his non-changing face, ready to say something.

“I-“

“Do I need any reason more than I want to be?” He utters first delicately.

There wasn’t a hint of negative energy. It made you sad, just how much he’d do for you. You actually almost wish he would’ve gotten mad.

He’s never once yelled at you, called you out for dumb things like breaking a glass bowl, or not being taught some things around the house. You just let out an entire day’s worth of anger onto him and said something that was nowhere close to what you feel. You even used him as a placeholder for what you wish you could say to your boss. He is always so, so good to you.

He watches as your eyes suddenly get tighter and your eyebrows inch upwards. You’ve done nothing but look at him, yet the mere thought of what you said and what he’s actually done forces you to drop your head slowly and take a few steps forward into his chest. Droplets fall silently to the tiled floor.

His arms softly found their way around you.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble.

“You’re okay.”

He hugs you back, progressively getting softer with every passing minute. Not “It’s okay,” “You’re okay.” Sometime later, you pull back with a deep breath, and you send a tight lip smile to him. Then while he puts away the discarded item (that was previously fought over), you hop up on the island counter.

“Okay. I’m better now.”

“Good.” He closes the fridge. Your legs sway back and forth. You’ll try to explain what happened, even if you know it won’t justify the outbursts directed at him.

“Hey I didn’t mean it.”

“I kno-“

“No, no, wait.” You interrupt.

Dark eyebrows raise and his arms cross as he leans back against the counter in front of you to listen. He nods, telling you to go on.

“I’m so stressed. I just had a really, really bad day and put you at the end of it. I do really enjoy your company—I promise—It’s just…it’s just I don’t really-”

You think for a moment and sigh before your head drops into your palms again. It was because your mind was racing to find the words. Do you tell him? Would it count as a confession?

“I don’t even know anymore. Do you ever…um…”

“Take your time.” He sits patiently.

Damn, did you have to trip over your own words now?

“…What do the dates that you plan usually look like?”

He seemed lost in thought for a second, prior to returning towards the sight of you nervously twiddling your fingers. He noticed the emphasis on the word ‘plan,’ as if you were trying to differentiate between real dates from him and whatever the hangouts you two had were. Saving you the trouble, he’d just tell you.

“I like you.”

…huh?

The sudden confession makes your eyes almost pop out of your head. That was not the answer you were expecting, but not the answer you didn’t want.

“What?” You whisper. You did hear that correctly, right?

He goes on to elaborate with a sigh and a shrug.

“Listen, I’ve been through a million different of these confessions and I don’t want that delay with you. I like you a lot, period.”

It was a while back ago when Mattsun decided he’d focus on you alone. He cleared his phone, and (which you noticed) somewhat cleared his defiled reputation of past debauchery. Many older women have came up to him asking if he actually would pursue during his libertine phase, to which he’d respond no, so he has experienced almost every subtle confession ever made. It was like déja vu.

Wide-eyed you sit. That was a lot easier than you expected; you were worrying all for nothing. The bearing weight that had you in a hold was finally lifted.

“So all of those were-“

“Yes. I haven’t done that with anyone else and I prefer to keep it that way.”

Your heart probably jumps in your chest and your eyes light up. A wide smile inches its way onto your face, and it almost dies down when you remember what you did, but he brings it back with a light, mature smile of his own. After all this time he actually was crushing on you like you were him. You never, ever could deny the way you were eager to see him once he would return from his classes and crash the night with you.

Speaking of crash, a sudden returning wave of exhaustion brushes your body. You ignore it though. There are better things.

“Well, that’s somehow where I was going; I like you a lot too. But if I actually asked you would you say yes? I know how-”

“That depends. Does it come with a ring?”

You stop and your dimples start to show as a smile crawls onto your face, again, “Um…no?“

“Then I object.”

He uncrosses his arms and walks unhurriedly between your legs. He was so content, large hands brushing up your thigh from the knee.

“Yes, I would,” he admits delightedly whilst gingerly coming closer in the face, “the ring comes later though.” He’d whisper a breath away from your lips. You’d wondered how you could be so lucky, the confession not even falling from your sheepish mouth, and still end up with the same outcome. When his eyes go from yours to the plump of your mouth; So, so ready to feel him on you, your eyes close and anticipate him.

Nothing happens. Once your eyes open and he stands there mockingly with the trademark grin (still only hovering an inch away from your nose), if you didn’t know any better you would’ve shoved him away and hopped off the counter to your room for playing with your feelings. But Mattsun was just being Mattsun. First he laughs genuinely at how gullible you are. Then, his trail of sight goes back to your lips unashamedly once more with a dimple-showcasing smirk. He slowly pushes a falling strand of hair away, and slightly turns his head to melt into you with a hand on your cheek sweetly.

You could feel the free smile that was on his lips as he kissed you. It was cute. The kind of things you see in movies at little coffee shops riding along the street. It was unlike him, an unfamiliar feeling this was—like sunlight rather than a rainy or cloudy day. It sounds stupid, but Matsukawa is always slow moving and effective. Watching tv with your legs kicked up or tucked in a blanket as the pitter-patter of the rain decided the kismet of your day. The lambent lighting of the morning making it significantly darker than it usually is with the blinds open.

He caught you before you were too far gone by groaning happily. Throughout it, the entirety of your mind was buzzed by the way your lips gracefully slow danced against his on the counter of your shared apartment. It felt so good seeing him just utterly happy, especially with you. Warm and steady like molasses in January. His fingers eventually connected in the small of your back. You were still tired so his energy was just as lazy as your own; like when your hands floated around his neck and feathered through his hair.

He did it as if it had been years since he was kissed. Yearning for absolutely any ounce of touch from someone. He was accidentally pushing into you, needing to be closer, your arch slowly getting deeper.

The second he pulled away for necessary air, he caught the crevices of your thighs and pulled you with him. Now that the hard part was done he’d give you the full experience.

“What are you doing?”

“Relieving stress.”

He pushes a leg up and over his own shoulder. His hands are placed directly atop your abdomen to apply light pressure as he kisses away the nerves from the main fat of your body gently. Remember all that cute stuff? Yeah, it just diminished the second he decided to eat you out on the marble counter.

You’re not very sure how it led to something like this, something like him pulling your shorts and panties off together. Once there, his mouth felt great against your clit, mainly when he’d stop and suck right between. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t dreamt of this from someone before because the form of the pink muscle inside you is unmistakable. So unmistakable even, that the feeling of the slurp that makes you squirm seemingly flows through your veins to your head like blood.

When Mattsun eats you out, he does it with precision. He knows where he wants to go and how he’ll get there. Compared to others he wasn’t as messy, but maybe that comes from the fact he’d prefer his fingers working inside of you. He’d love to watch your face contort on nothing but his hand because he knows it’s a favorited body part of his. He knows you’d love it. But, he will cup his mouth over you and give the same effect nonetheless.

And you loved that about him. He was careless, not nonchalant.

He was clingy, but independent.

He had morals, just not enough to get boring like when he jumped in the ball case in the store.

He was extremely opinionated, (especially when you asked him small questions like if he liked a shirt) but he also doesn’t care enough to convince you out of something you liked.

He’s hot, but also couldn’t care less about his appearance at times.

He was a walking juxtaposition.

And usually, when you’re alone, the relaxation of your mind helps you get off faster. This was the case, and going over his traits and features was clearly working well because now only your upper back was on the counter and anything below that point was lifted with his large hands. Both legs were in his possession. Your breaths were heavy and when your waist moves on him, his shoulders follow his head. Your own head moves to each side, but he doesn’t seem to care, this was incidental when he was holding your hips close to him so your wetness spread right under his nose. He was feeding off you since there was nowhere to run.

He’d tell you to sit still a bit but he likes the challenge. He likes watching your waist go back and forth as your pussy basically cries his name, and he would print his initials in hickeys on you if that’s what it called for. Others call it sadistic, he calls it motivation.

He could literally take both hands off of you and still be upright—the only reason he didn’t was because you’d probably make yourself fall. Though he did get close, a hand coming right up through your shirt to massage your breast. You unconsciously crossed your legs behind his neck in reaction. Damn, he was good.

He groans through you, and you wish you could watch but holding yourself together was a ground-breaking job. He hit each spot perfectly with complete control of his tongue and your shoulders were starting to hurt from bearing your own body weight.

His height made this fairly difficult but nothing he couldn’t handle—having to crouch in front of a pretty girl was the last of his worries. With your thighs covering his ears and temple, he sucked away. He was honestly glad he did this now rather than later, knowing you, you probably would’ve refused clamping on his head so you wouldn’t crush him or something like that. Mattsun believed his breath regulation was pretty okay considering he almost even got into swimming, but if by slim chance he did die he believed suffocating like this was preferred.

His tongue was literally inside of you. The only thing preventing your brain from fuzzing and your head from throwing back was there would be nothing left on the counter to hold your weight.

Once your heavy breathing developed to jagged and your heavyset eyes started to close, he set you back down gracefully. He heard your pleas but held out for as long as he could. Many “Mattsun please’s“ and “Mattsun I’s” later, he would finally relieve you; He knew his girl could do it.

He spent the last portion of your orgasm fulfilling his own desires and working you from the inside. He moved positions to rest on his left elbow and lean over your face, staring into your eyes, brows upturned and a smile showing. Was it a pity smile? Maybe, but it was for sure the face of amusement as you break down beneath him.

“H-holy shit…‘Sei- s’right there,” you declared.

“Huh? What is?”

A very implying whine followed. Matsukawa scooped his arm under your head like a pillow, his left hand turning your chin to face him. He loved that face. That pretty face only dusted with fatigue and sadness but smothered in want. That same face he’ll get to see whenever he looks down. Huh. Maybe he was a little sadistic.

Your body scrunched and your knees came up in ecstasy.

“Talk to me,” he says, but you barely could keep your eyes open the way he was avoiding the spot on purpose. You wondered how he did it, already having learned your body and how you reacted so well in such a short time. You were so close already and he was gonna ruin it, even though you’d probably still find a way to cum anyway.

You tried your best to muster up something and prayed he’d take it.

“Faster,” you ordered. No response. Actually instead of doing what you said, he pulled them out, assumingely because of the sudden attitude. You immediately went to apologize. He was actively in charge of your body, after all.

You verbally groan in annoyance, to where you hear a responding muffled giggle, so you open your eyes to see what happened.

You meet a view of his smiling jawline, looking down past the counter. His hand was still beneath your chin, almost as if he was protecting you from being uncomfortable, but his teeth held his shirt up as he used whatever was left on his fingers to jerk himself off. This was the disruption in question.

He didn’t mean to basically abandon you, but undoing the jawstring and letting himself free seemed like it would benefit everyone. And he was big. You’d seen big, but he was big all the way around.

You watched in awe as his fingers left a shine of gloss behind when they reached the reddening tip from the bottom.

He threw his head back and groaned in relief, finally being reminded what it felt like to be touched with someone else’s presence.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist.”

With a look to your impatient, shocked eyes, he knew you wanted it. Needed it almost.

He pressed off the counter with his elbow but left his hand under your head. Such a gentleman. Lifting both legs up, with a hand stretched under your knees like a baby, he spoke to you.

“You want it?” He’d ask. You’d nod aggressively, to where he’d ask again. “You gotta tell me.”

“Yes, I do.” You pleaded. Of course your head rolled slightly on his hand to see his face around your legs.

“Alright. Tell me when you wanna stop. Safeword is green.”

You’d never once said a safeword during sex and you doubt you’d use it now. Plus, Issei wouldn’t hurt you.

Intentionally.

You felt him pull your legs apart and hold them where they were previously scrunched up at your breasts. Finally, he rubbed you one last time, before the tip slowly started to diminish inside of you.

It’s amazing how the body makes fluid for moments like these. It’s also amazing how wet Mattsun got you so it’d hurt ten times less.

When he stopped moving about halfway there, he hung over your body almost menacingly; his silhouette breathing deeply and whatever necklace he had on from the day dangling. Your face contorted at the intrusion and your eyes unexpectedly swelled, making you lachrymose. It definitely could’ve been worse, but fuck he was big.

The ravenette slipped his shirt off and your head slid off his hand painlessly, the overwhelming heat from everywhere flowing to his brain. He almost couldn’t take it. You were so wet but so fucking tight at the same time, he couldn’t even bring himself to keep going. He bent over to meet you with a kiss on the jaw and his hand found your own so you could squeeze it as he went on. He buried his face in your neck.

“O-okay, you can move now,” you managed.

No response.

“Issei?” You pushed his hair aside with the hand that wasn’t in his so you could see him. His eyes were closed and his breathing was seeking stabilization through his mouth.

“Fucking just- gimme a second. Please.”

You knew it was pure desire and he was trying his best not to hurt you. He would promise ‘til death that he tried to stop, to take it slow, but it was irresistible the second you giggled at his current state (that you caused) and your stomach contracted with him inside. He immediately pushed forward so that he was balls deep into the fluttering feeling.

“Matts—”

The sudden squeeze on his hand could cut off circulation and the grunt that emitted from his body over and over as he continued to do it couldn’t be missed. At this point it didn’t even hurt anymore, but the previously denied orgasm returned full force.

Mattsun, of course, would apologize later; but it wasn’t later yet. He finally lifted himself off you and gathered your legs once more so your ankles were at his ears, trying to feel more of the ribbed walls on either side. Your mouth fell open at the spot.

“Ha-hohfuck ‘m gonna cum.” You whispered.

“Mhmm? Let me feel it baby,” He leaned over again, almost testing your flexibility, running a hand along your cheek and swiping away a single tear that dropped from earlier while his forehead was against yours. Now that he knew how far you could go, he’d have a lot of fun with the positions he’d put you in.

“Fuck, fuck-!” You’d find him through your lashes so he could kiss you, the never ending thrusts seemingly reaching your belly button. He loved sucking on those pretty lips of yours.

He only let out a laugh of satisfaction as you stilled and stiffened around him, your arms roaming his back and head turning away. He continued to thrust downward, never letting up speed, causing you to writhe underneath him with every curl of his hips. He did eventually pull away and extend his arms though. It was for a nice view of your body.

His length slipping in and out as a white ring forms that’ll signify how many times he’s made you cum; your breasts through the shirt following your body back and forth; the already fucked out face you wield accompanied with a yawn—it was all so much, he almost couldn’t look anymore. In fact, he won’t.

He grabbed you and pulled you further down the marble so you could roll over, your wriggling body basically halfway there. Up you go by your hair, that flexibility coming in to play a second time while he fucked you. When you moaned at the tug, he wouldn’t be Mattsun if he didn’t tease you for it.

“Wow, who would’ve guessed. You like when I pull your hair?”

“Yes daddy,” you respond. It was almost instantaneous. You wished you could’ve said you meant to do it, but it was honestly an accident.

His thrusts slightly change, you wish you could say how. He dropped your head forcefully, took both of your wrists behind your back, and pulled you up by your throat. Your neck was strained trying to face him but you couldn’t help it, you had to listen when he was talking to you. He was amused, to say the least—especially when you stopped listening because of the way he was barely brushing that sweet nerve.

“That’s a filthy mouth of yours. Who knew you were such a slut?” He’d grin into your ear. “Since you’ve gotten so good at it, why don’t you tell daddy what you want?”

As long as you’ve known him, he’s made you say things you wouldn’t have even thought of saying prior. But right now? You couldn’t care less.

“Mmm,” you whimper, “h-harder daddy.”

You’re not sure how he unscrambled what you said with his hand restricting your throat and the other intermittent babble coming out of your mouth, but if anyone could, it was him. Mattsun was defiant and dominant, but when it came to your genuine pleasure, he’d gratify.

Teasing aside obviously.

With the slightest bend of his knees, he angled himself and thrusted farther upwards. Did you doubt he would remember where you’re g-spot was? You were choking up more than you already were and his name slipped off your tongue as if it were a veneration statement of butter. Your ass sounded throughout the apartment, the skin-on-skin contact loud enough for the neighbors to hear. The force was turning it red and Matsukawa loved it. He loved when the pussy talked back too.

In fact, you could tell, because he was gradually speeding up and his thrusts were slowly becoming sporadic.

“Oh shit-I’mmna-” You started.

“Come on it. Come on this dick so you can tell everyone you did it twice.”

“Mhmm.”

“You can tell all your little friends you’re mine and I’m yours.”

“Yes daddy…”

“Come so you find all the women I’ve ever talked to and tell them you’re the only one I want.”

With that, your eyebrows leveled out and your eyes shut while trying to process the sex drive and sweet believable words at the same time. Your body held onto Mattsun for dear life, to where he let go of your throat and held you close on the fall back down to your elbows. You were exhausted, but that grip your pussy still had on him was deadly. Deadly enough for him to slightly question whether you’d be a bad mom or not.

He obviously chose against it and sighed along your back while you came before pulling out. You turned around and crouched knowingly with whatever strength was left, then watched him jerk himself off above you. After you decided to take matters into your own hands (literally), he held himself up with his support on the counter. His head hanging over you while you stroked the other was a sight to remember.

With a final hiss, white decorated your face like a picture.

“Holy fuck,” his head faced the ceiling as he ran a hand over his face. The view he was met with when he came back down was insane, your hand curved behind his thigh and the other milking him dry of whatever was left. With a single bud of cum remaining, you licked your lips and smiled weakly.

What the hell would he do with you?

©hxltic

[literally-izzy]

Just Friends?

summary: you’re in love with your best friend who doesn’t feel the same way. right?

Modern AU!Anakin Skywalker and Fem!reader

A/n: ah! this is my first time writing a fic and i might’ve gotten carried away… there’s also original names. not all of the names are star wars related. please feel free to reblog! it would mean a lot!

cw: smut; unprotected piv, pet names, car accident..

Love. It’s a funny thing. I’ll never understand it. I only know that when it hits you, it hits you hard. Here I am, 25 and still pining over a man who doesn’t want me. You would think that after ten years I would forget about him and move on. It’s hard when he’s your best friend. Anakin Skywalker. I met him my sophomore year, his freshman year. Our moms worked together and became best friends. It was only inevitable that we would too. Every weekend was a movie night at the Skywalker house. Filled with love and laughter. The only times I hated it was when an unwanted visitor came. But I denied the real reason I disliked her.

I told myself it was just because she was too quiet. Not outgoing. Definitely not because she was dating him…. I hated the way he held her in his arms. I eventually began to realize it was because I wished it was me. Any moment I had alone with him was bliss. She didn’t go to our school. They met at summer camp the year before we became friends. So, school, especially choir was a safe place to be with him. He made me laugh like no other. And never changed the way he acted around me when his friends were around.

Now here I am, teaching a class of annoying seventh graders how to sing. Anakin is still in med school. I always admired him for it. He never thought he was smart enough for it. It took my encouragement. We still keep tradition and every Friday night; I go over to his apartment for movie night. When he graduated, he and his girlfriend, Padme, split up. So, for the past 6 years, I’ve never really had to worry about anyone else. He only had a few short relationships throughout the past six years since he graduated. Occasionally his sister joins us for movie night, that’s when we have to watch cheesy hallmark movies. Not that I hate all of them, but I dislike most of them.

I looked down at my desk and saw a text on my phone.

“Just you and me for movie night. Up for Fast and Furious?”

I smiled at the text. My students were currently working on their assignment, so I replied,

“That’s a stupid question, Anakin”. I put my phone down and I sat my chair.

He texted back almost immediately, “so I take that as a yes, y/n?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s a yes. I’d love to talk more but I have a class to teach. Love ya”

“I’ll say a prayer for those students lol. Love ya.”

I smiled at the last sentence. We’ve been inseparable for ten years. Of course, we love each other. Mine just goes deeper than his. I’ve thought multiple times about telling him. But I just couldn’t. He’s always with someone new when I finally muster up the courage to tell him. And its not like I’ve stayed single. I’m actually with someone right now. He’s amazing in every way. He’s just not Anakin. I looked down at my phone again and realized I had a text from him.

“Hey babe, I’m gong out of town to see my parents for the weekend. I know you’re going to Anakin’s apartment for movie night, so I figured i’d tell you now”.

I feel like such a bitch. At least he’s not jealous of Anakin. My last relationship ended because I refused to stop seeing him.

I texted back, “okay, have fun!” I know I should’ve said more, but I really didn’t care. I saw another text from him but before I could answer it, the bell rang.

“Okay class, that’s homework if you didn’t finish it. Have a great weekend!” All the kids quickly piled out of my classroom. Once I was alone, I read the text from Trey.

“Okay. I will. Be safe on your drive up there.”

“I will.” I replied. I got my things together and walked out to my car. Once I got in, I connected my phone and started blasting love songs. I’m a hopeless romantic. I started driving.

He lives in the main part of Coruscant. Which is about 45 minutes away from where I live. I spent the drive belting love songs, consciously daydreaming about the life I could have with Anakin.

Once I pull into his driveway, he’s already outside waiting for me.

“Jeez, y/n, took you long enough” he smirks.

“Fuck off, Anakin” I laugh and flip him off. I walk closer to him and give him a hug. It only lasted a couple of seconds, but it felt like hours. His muscular arms wrap around me tightly and contract as we breathe in sync. He smelled like the woods behind his house, where we used to explore. His curly dirty blonde hair that shaped his face brushed against my cheek as he finally pulled away. He stood aside, gesturing for me to enter his apartment.

“Wow, you cleaned!” I teased him as I took off my shoes and sat on his black leather couch.

“Yeah, but not for you. It is my bachelor pad after all” he smirked as he sat down beside me.

“Of course,” I said with an eye roll. I tried not to sound annoyed, but I know I did. Part of my annoyance isn’t even because I want him to myself. Some of it is because he’s not as careful as he should be. He just whores around because his good looks and charm let him. One day, he’s gonna end up being a baby daddy to at least three women. And I know i’d still be around to help him. Always being his best friend. Never the love of his life.

“Pizza should be here soon” Anakin interrupted my thoughts.

“Okay great” I give him a warm smile as he sits down beside me. He pulls out his phone and starts to text someone. I know I should give him his privacy, but I’m a nosey bitch. I discreetly shift my head and side my eyes towards his phone. He’s texting a girl named Aayla. From what I could see, they’ve obviously been hooking up.

“Who’s that?” I asked, letting my jealousy get the better of me. He looks up and smirks.

“Just a girl I’ve been seeing occasionally. Why? You jealous?” He teased. I knew he was teasing but I couldn’t stop my face from turning bright red. Every normal word went out the window. I couldn’t speak. Finally, I shook myself out of it and responded nonchalantly.

“Hell no. I don’t need whatever diseases you’ve contracted from your escapades” I teased. He laughed and playfully rolled his eyes. He put his phone face down on his lap and shifted his body to face me. His black ‘KISS’ tee shirt tightened around his body, outlining his stunning six-pack.

“So, how’s everything with Trey?” His face was calm. His lips pressed into a peaceful smile.

“Everything’s great. We just came up on 4 months together.” I couldn’t think of anything interesting to tell him. As bad as it sounds, my relationship with Trey is vanilla. Nothing daring or exciting.

“Can I ask you something?” He raised his eyebrows slightly.

“Of course,” I smiled.

He paused, thinking of what to say next. “So, I’ve only seen him a few times, but he looks awfully boring. Is he any good in bed?”

My jaw dropped. I started laughing a little. “I guess so. He’s only the second guy I’ve been with. I don’t have much to compare him to”.

“Wait, really?” He looked astonished.

I immediately started blushing. I felt embarrassed. “Um, yeah…”

“How come you never told me?” He looked genuinely hurt that I didn’t tell him I’ve only slept with two men.

“I don’t know. We’ve never really gone into detail about our sex lives”

“Yeah, but I mean, I told you when I lost my virginity at least. You didn’t even tell me that.” He sounded so hurt. And I could see where this was coming from. Besides this one topic, I tell him everything. He looked down at my hands that were fidgeting in my lap. All of a sudden, he grabs them. His big strong hands gripping my smaller ones, with a look of compassion on his face. “y/n, please don’t feel like you have to keep things from me. I’m your best friend. I would never judge you”.

How was I not supposed to melt. I nodded and swallowed, keeping my hands in his. “I lost my virginity when I was nineteen. In college. I was with Maul. I was embarrassed to say anything because you lost yours before me and I felt, different, I guess. After we split, I was scared to do it with anyone else. I’ve only recently slept with Trey.”

Just as he was about to speak, the doorbell rang. We knew it was the pizza, so he went up to get it. Once he got it, he walked into the kitchen. It only took a couple of minutes before he came back in with two plates of pizza. He set the plates down, walked back into the kitchen, and came back with two bottles of ‘Mikes hard lemonade’. He then sat beside me, turning on ‘Fast and Furious’.

We had gotten through the first three movies before I started to get sleepy. I tried to stay awake for another movie, but I couldn’t. We had talked about various things. Work, school, family, etc.

“I’m sorry, but I better leave. I’m starting to fall asleep.” I yawned tiredly.

His eyes widened. Then he started to look sad. “Wait, why don’t you just stay the weekend? I know you keep clothes in your car, and you said Trey would be at his parents’ house all weekend.”

I smiled. But then I started overthinking. What if I annoy him too much? We’ve never spent a whole weekend together without breaks. Or what if he wants to bring a girl over? I’d just get in the way. “Are you sure? What if you want to put your bachelor pad to use?” I slightly teased. Only slightly because part of me was serious.

He smirked, “Do you really think girls are over here every weekend?”

“From the way you talk about them, yes.”

He started laughing. “No, y/n. I’m really not that big of a man whore.”

I looked down at my hands, “Oh. Well, what about that Aayla girl?”

“Not important. We aren’t exclusive. She’s just something fun. There’s no relationship there. If there was, I would’ve told you, y/n.” He said seriously.

“Okay. I’ll stay. I don’t have pajamas in my car though.”

He smiled, knowing he had won. “I have a shirt and sweats you can wear.”

“Okay. Do you have a pillow for the couch?” I asked with a soft smile on my face.

“Yes. But not for you. You can have my bed. And that’s non-negotiable.”

I rolled my eyes as I stood up. I was too tired to fight. He motioned for me to follow him into his room. I’d only been in there once, and that was when he moved into the apartment. As we walked in, I was hit with the refreshing smell of his light cologne. His bed was in the corner, facing the door when you walk in. Across from his queen-sized bed was a tall, dark wood dresser. He walked over to the dresser and pulled out a gray shirt and black sweatpants.

“Here, they might be a bit big, but you’ll just be sleeping in them.”

“Thank you” I smiled. He set the clothes on his bed before walking closer to me. Once he was close enough, he wrapped his strong arms around me. I hugged him back, breathing in his scent. His head rested on my dirty blonde curls.

“Goodnight, y/n”, he breathed out before pulling away. I sighed and smiled.

“Night, Ani”. With that, he smiled and walked out, shutting his door. I began to remove my clothes and replaced them with his. I was immediately engulfed in his natural woodsy scent. I then crawled into his bed. It was very soft, like laying on a cloud. His black sheets smelled like him. I laid there and started thinking about the future I could have if I just grow a pair and tell him. Eventually, I closed my eyes and drifted off, wishing he was laying beside me.

While I was sleeping, I felt something on my hair. I decided to ignore it. But I can't help but hope it was him. But I won't bring It up.

♡

I woke up to the sound of sizzling. I sat up and admired the way the sun shined on my body through the window above the bed. I tossed my legs over the side of the bed and walked out to the kitchen. I was hit with the smell of bacon, my favorite. I walked further in to see Anakin humming and cooking. He was so focused on breakfast; he didn’t even notice I was awake. So, I started to sing the words of the song he was humming. He quickly turned around with a huge grin on his face. His robe was open, exposing his bare chest. His body was God-like.

“You have such a beautiful voice, y/n/n” he complimented me. Sure, he knew I could sing, but this felt different. I blushed a little before responding.

“Thank you, Ani”. I smiled.

“Did you sleep well?” He asked with his eyebrows slightly raised.

“Yes, I did. Your bed is very comfy” I smiled.

He let out a small chuckle. “I know. So, I deserve a big thank you for letting you sleep in it for this weekend”

I rolled my eyes. “Thank you for letting me sleep in your incredibly comfy bed.”

“You’re welcome.” He turned back around to get our plates ready. Once he was done, he took them to the table and sat down waiting for me. We sat there and ate the eggs and bacon he had made. Then I remembered something.

“Last night, what were you going to say before the pizza got delivered?”

He looked down. He was thinking. “Well, I guess I was just surprised, I guess. It’s hard to believe you’ve only slept with two men.” I looked into his eyes and knitted my eyebrows.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, c’mon y/n/n. Just because we’re best friends, doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate how beautiful you are.” I choked on my water. I coughed for a few minutes before responding.

“Oh. Really?”

He smiled and laughed lightly. “Yes. Really.” I could’ve died right there. Why couldn’t he be mine?

Once we finished eating, I walked into his living room and sat on the couch. I got on my phone to check any missed calls or notifications I might’ve had. All I had was a text from Trey.

“Good morning, beautiful. Missed waking up next to you this morning” I didn’t. I wished it was Anakin.

“Why is he so cheesy?” I heard Anakin ask from beside me. I can’t blame him for being nosey, considering I did the same thing last night.

“I don’t know. It’s not my favorite if I’m being honest” I said with a slight grimace. He laughed before focusing back on his phone. I looked back down at the text and decided to respond.

“Good morning! Don’t miss me too much. Enjoy your time with your parents”. I rolled my eyes as I pressed send. I started scrolling on instagram. I stopped when I saw an engagement post an old friend from High school made. An instant feeling of jealousy and heartbreak came over me. I heard Anakin sigh as he started to speak.

“Oh yeah, I saw that.” He spoke as if it made no difference. It probably doesn’t to him. But to me, I feel behind. I thought I still had time to start all of that. Is 25 too old? He started to speak again when I didn’t say anything. “Hey, what’s wrong?” His voice was soft, like velvet

“Am I wasting my life?” I looked up with tears begging to be released from my eyes.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He knitted his eyebrows together.

“I though I still had time before starting a family. I thought 25 was still young. But now, Casey is getting married.” I sniffled. The tears finally leaving my eyes. Without saying anything, Anakin pulled me into a hug. Once again, his woodsy smell engulfed my senses and I felt calm. My face was pressed against his bare chest, since he still hadn’t changed. He gently rubbed my back with his hand. After a few minutes, I pulled away to save myself from falling for him even more, if that was possible. He began to speak.

“I don’t think there’s a time limit. You start it when you’re ready.” He smiled softly.

“When did you get so smart?” I teased. He scoffed and playfully put his hand to his chest.

“I am deeply offended y/n.” I pushed him and we started laughing. He paused. “Hey, I have an idea”

“What?”

“Let’s go see my parents. It’ll give us something to do.” He shrugged. I smiled. I hadn’t seen them in a while.

“I love that idea. I just have to get my clothes out of my car and change” I stood up and did just that. I walked back in with my book bag and went into his room and changed. I walked out with my slightly ripped jeans and my favorite ‘Nirvana’ tee-shirt. Anakin smiled and walked into the room to change while I waited. He walked back out in black jeans and a plain gray shirt. Even in the plainest clothes he was ethereal. I grabbed my phone and his as we walked out the door.

•

On the drive to his parents’ house, we blasted our favorite songs. We belted our hearts out, laughed at the stupid shit he said. My heart fluttered every time he looked at me. The way he says my name. After 20 minutes, we pulled into his parents' driveway. We got out and he rang the doorbell. Their house was white and older. There was a wooded area in their backyard where Anakin, his sister Ashoka, and I would explore and mess around.

When I moved closer to my job, I was sad to be so far away. But when Anakin moved to Coruscant to go to college and Coruscant Medical School, I was elated. We were now only 45 minutes apart instead of an hour. I hadn’t been home in 6 months. My parents haven’t even met Trey. Which is intentional.

After a few seconds, his mom Shmi, opened the door and a huge grin appeared on her face. She then gasped.

“Oh! y/n!! It’s so good to see you!” She pulled me into a tight comforting hug. Anakin rolled his eyes.

“Nice to see you too mom” he teased. I pulled away and smiled. She walked forward and pulled Anakin into a hug as well. Just then, his Step dad, Cliegg, came out and gave me a side hug before hugging Anakin. Shmi finally spoke up.

“Well, come on in! I just made some chili if you’re hungry”. I walked into their house and was hit with the smell of her infamous chili. My mouth immediately started watering. I proceeded to the kitchen and didn’t waste and time on grabbing a bowl. Anakin soon entered behind me and did the same.

Once our bowls were filled, we went into the dining room and sat at the table. His parents joined us, and we began to make some small talk. Shmi smiled and began to speak.

“So, are either of you seeing anyone?” Before I could say anything, Anakin spoke up.

“Well, y/n has a boyfriend. But I’m not seeing anyone right now.” I smiled awkwardly, knowing Shmi would tell my mother. Shmi’s face looked almost sad, as if she wanted me to be single or him to not be.

“Oh, that’s wonderful! What’s his name?” She asked brightly. I looked up from the table and smiled.

“His name is Trey” I said quietly.

“Is that short for anything?” Cliegg spoke up.

“His name is Daniel Jones the third. Because he’s the third, he goes by Trey.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that.” Anakin said almost offended.

“Well, you never asked” I replied. The rest of lunch went well. After a few more hours, we decided to head back home. We hugged his parents goodbye and got back into Anakin’s truck. Once we started driving, Anakin cleared his throat and started to speak.

“Are you mad at me?” He said as if he would start crying if I said yes.

“What? No. Why would I be mad at you?” I asked genuinely.

“I don’t know. You’ve just been distant recently, I guess.” He shrugged, keeping his beautiful blue eyes on the road.

“I’m not trying to be. You’re my best friend, I would never try to distance myself from you.” I sighed. He was right. But I’m only trying to save myself from utter heartbreak.

“Okay. I believe you.” And with that, we stayed silent the rest of the ride home. The only time we spoke was when we stopped at a drive-thru to get food. We ate in the car. Still staying silent. Once we pulled into his driveway, I got out and went straight to his room to change.

In had just finished changing, when Anakin walked in. He just stood there. He didn’t say anything. I spoke up.

“Is everything go-” I was cut short by Anakin when he pressed his lips onto mine. I didn’t even have time to react before he pulled away. His eyes widened.

“I- I’m sorry.” With that, he walked out of his room and shut the door. I wanted to follow him, but I could tell he needed to be alone. I sat on the end of the bed and ran my hands through my hair. I looked down and spoke quietly.

“What the fuck just happened?” I crawled onto the bed and laid down. Did he mean to? Was he fucking with me? Did he want me as much as I want him? No. He couldn’t. It’s been too long for him not to have said anything. I curled into a ball and fell asleep thinking about what just happened.

The next morning, I woke up ready to talk to Anakin. I changed into leggings and a plain blue shirt. When I walked out, I didn’t see him anywhere. I checked every room until I saw a note on his fridge.

“I went for a drive. I don’t know when I’ll be back. I’m so sorry. I’ll see you next weekend, I hope. - Anakin. I wasn’t angry at him for leaving, surprisingly. I understood. I walked back into his room, grabbed my stuff and left. As I drove back to my apartment, I couldn’t help but start to cry. I cried because I was hurt, confused, frustrated, in love.

When I pulled into the driveway, I sat in my car and cried some more. Eventually, I got out and walked into my apartment complex. I got in the elevator and kept my eyes on the floor so no one could see me cry. When the elevator rang, I walked out and ran down the hallway to get to my door.

I walked in and ran into my room. I crawled into my bed and cried. He kissed me and he regrets it. I was stupid to think that maybe we could be something. I fell asleep with tears still running down my cheeks.

After what was probably a few hours, I heard loud knocking on my door. I got up and opened it. Trey.

“Hey gorgeous” he smiled.

“Hi.” I said quietly. I stood to the side allowing him to come in. I couldn’t stop sniffling, so he turned around with a concerned look.

“What’s wrong, beautiful?” He said softly.

“I just don’t feel good” I lied. I couldn’t tell him that my best friend kissed me, said sorry, then left and I wished he wasn’t sorry. Trey walked over to the couch and sat down. He gestured for me to sit beside him. I did. Once I sat down, he pulled me close to him. I wont lie, Trey is very comforting. He is so sweet and honestly very good looking, but he’s not him. As much as I try to enjoy being with Trey I can't.

I sat there for what felt like another hour, before I got a call. I sat up and answered.

“Hello?” I didn’t recognize the number.

“Hi, this is Coruscant Hospital. Is this y/n y/l/n?” My heart dropped.

“Yes, it is”

“We have Anakin Skywalker here. You were number one on his emergency contact list. He’s in our trauma room right now. He got into a pretty bad accident. I would suggest that you come down and call any other family members”.

I froze. I couldn’t speak. I felt tears running down my cheeks, but I couldn’t make any sound. Finally, I said okay and hung up. I told trey what happened, and I left. I drove as fast as I could without getting pulled over. I sobbed thinking the worst. I called his mom and told her. She immediately tried to calm me down and told me she was on her way.

I pulled into the parking lot and ran in. I told the receptionist his name. She looked him up and told me he was taken into emergency surgery. I sat in the waiting room. His mom eventually came, and I told her. She held me as I cried. We sat in the waiting room for 4 hours. Eventually a doctor came out.

“Are you the family of Anakin Skywalker?”. We both nodded. “He’s out of surgery. He’s in a coma right now. He shouldn’t be asleep for long, but don’t expect him to be awake tonight.”

We nodded. A nurse came and led us to his room. As soon as I saw him, I immediately broke into tears. I pulled a chair up to the side of his bed. I sat down and grabbed his hand. He had a black eye, and his arms were covered in cuts and bruises. He had stitches visible on his chest, before they went under his gown. Shmi grabbed his other hand and gave it a kiss. We sat in silence before she finally spoke.

“He’s so lucky to have you, y/n.” She said softly with a light smile.

“What do you mean?” I asked with utter confusion.

“You bring out the best in him. He trusts you more than anyone. You’d drop anything the moment he asks you to. And you care about him so much. You’ve shed more tears tonight than I think I have in the last 4 years.” She explained.

“Of course, I care about him. He’s my best friend.” She just hummed in response. After an hour or so, another nurse came in.

“Unfortunately, only one of you can stay with him. It’s hospital policy.” I immediately went to stand up when Shmi spoke.

“y/n, stay. You need to. I’ll be back in the morning.” I she said sternly. I didn’t even try to argue with her. She left and I curled up in the chair and slept the best I could.

The next morning, his mom walked in and woke me up. She had brought me some coffee and a breakfast sandwich. We turned on the television and occasionally had a conversation. I barely let go of his hand.

Shmi left to get some lunch. I stayed. I held his hand with my left hand and used my right to caress his face. I whispered softly.

“Please wake up. I need you. I-I love you. Please Ani.” I begged. I couldn’t help but shed a few tears. All I wanted was to hear his voice.

After a bit, Shmi returned, and we talked some more. Once it got late, she left and went back home. I sat there and cried some more. I needed my best friend. I needed my Ani. All of a sudden, I heard a knock on the door.

“Come in” I said calmly. Trey walked in with some food,

“I got you something to eat. Figured I could sit with you for a bit and then take you home.” He spoke.

I sighed. “Thank you for the food, but I’m staying here. I refuse to leave him.”

“Can I ask you something?” He said softly.

“Sure” I said staring at Anakin’s beautiful face.

“If that was me, would you stay all night, not eat and hold my hand?” He spoke softly, but I could tell he was sad and angry. How could I blame him? But I was tired of lying.

“No.” And I said that with full honesty. “He’s my best friend. We’ve been inseparable for ten years. Why would that change now?” I spoke quietly. Not once taking my eyes off of Anakin.

“You love him. Don’t you?” He questioned. I didn’t know what to say.

“Of course. He’s my best frie-”. He cut me off.

“Cut the shit, y/n. You love him. More than a friend. And I won’t stand in the way.” He said solemnly. He walked out and I didn’t say anything. I just kept my red teary eyes on the love of my life. Whether he felt the same or not, it’s true. I kissed his hand. And for the first time in years, I prayed.

I prayed to God that he wakes up. That I get my best friend back. I turned off the television and the lights. I sat there with only the beeping of the machines. I leaned forward, laid my head on the side of his bed and cried.

After a bit, his nurse came to check his vitals. I watched as she did her job. I could tell she was very meticulous, and I was thankful for that. After she left, I felt the urge to cry again. So, I pulled out my phone and called the only other person who comforts me. My mom. The phone rang for a couple of seconds before she answered.

“Hello?” She said calmly.

“Hey mom” I said, my voice cracking.

“Oh, baby. I heard what happened to Anakin. Shmi told me you haven’t left his side in almost two days.”

“How could I mom? He’s my person, my safe haven. I need him. I love him.” I said hesitantly.

“We all know that. We’re positive he does too. We were just wondering how long it would take before you noticed.” She said with a laugh in her voice. She was always good at seeing the positive in everything.

“Damn. We’re dense. I just called you to calm myself down but I’m getting tired so I’m going to try and sleep.” I said in a calm tone.

“Okay, sweetie. Call me if you need me. Bye.” And she hung up. I set my phone down and leaned forward again so I could keep holding his hand.

I laid my head on his arm and drifted off to sleep.

I heard talking. I thought it was just nurses until I heard his voice.

“No, don’t wake her. My mom said she barely slept. I want her to get as much sleep as possible.” It was Anakin. I shot my head up. When I did his beautiful ocean blue eyes were on y/e/c ones. I brought my hand up to cover my mouth as I burst into tears. He smiled and brought his hand up to cup my cheek.

“Never mind.” He let out a soft chuckle.

The nurses all walked out and shut the door leaving us alone. I removed my hand and spoke.

“You’re awake!” I exclaimed.

“Am I?” He teased. “y/n, I’m so sorry about what happe-” I cut him off.

“I love you. So much actually.” I blurted out.

“Wait, really?” He knitted his eyebrows

I nodded. “I love you. More than just a friend. I’ve loved you since the day we met. I’ve loved you through every friend, girl, or fight we’ve ever had. I understand if you don’t feel the same way. I just needed to tell you.”

His face calmed and he smiled. His hand grabbed my shirt and pulled me forward. When we were close enough, he pressed his lips on to mine. We kissed passionately for what felt like hours. When we pulled away, he spoke.

“I never thought I’d hear you say that. I only got girlfriends to distract myself from the fact that I loved you. I thought I finally had a chance until you got with Trey. I’ve tried so hard to contain myself, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want you to leave Friday because I couldn’t handle having to wait another week before I saw you again. And at night I came in and kissed your forehead against my better judgement. y/n, I love you more than any word could express.”

I started crying again. He pulled me close to him. I laid on my side with my head to his chest. And I stayed like that for the next three days until he was discharged.

•

I helped him walk out to my car. Once we got in and I started driving, he put his hand on my thigh. I smiled as I drove us back to his apartment. Once I pulled into his driveway, I got out and helped him get out. We walked into his apartment, and the moment his door was shut, his lips were on mine.

Anakin moved his lips from mine down to my jaw and neck. I let out small moans of pleasure. He moved his hands down and grabbed the hem of my shirt. I raised my arms so he could remove it. Once my shirt was off, we walked into his room. When we got into his room, he began to remove everything except for his boxers. I removed everything but my bra and thong.

“Should we be doing this? You just had surgery 5 days ago” I reminded him.

“Baby, I need exercise to strengthen my heart again. That shard of glass really fucked it up. And what better way to get it working than to do this?” He smirked while he explained. I chose to just nod.

He walked closer to me and caressed every inch of me. He brought his hands around my back and unclipped my bra. I let it slide down my arms as he admired my bare chest.

“You’re so fucking beautiful baby” he grabbed my breasts and began to place kisses on my neck. He pushed me onto his bed and got on top of me. He brought his hands down and removed underwear in one go. I smirked and took my hand and placed it over his boxers, rubbing the impressive bulge. He let out a whimper, which drove me crazy. I pulled down his boxers and widened my eyes. He was huge.

Anakin took his fingers and began to rub my clit. I moaned and threw my head into the pillow. He leaned forward and placed my breast into his mouth.

“That feels so good Ani” I moaned. He began to move his fingers faster around my clit, causing me to squirm. It didn’t take long until he removed his mouth from my nipple and moved his body down.

He spread my legs open, and I felt him sucking on my clit. The feeling was phenomenal. He then started lapping at my pussy like he would die without it. He then took his middle finger and ring finger and began fingering me.

“Oh my god, Anakin. I’m gonna-” I couldn’t even finish my sentence. He let out a dark chuckle before he moved his body up.

I felt the tip of his dick at my entrance. He looked at me and smirked.

“Are you ready baby?” I looked at him and nodded. “Use your words, pretty girl.”

“Fuck, yes I’m ready.” With that, I felt him push his length in me slowly. I threw my head back and moaned loudly. Once I adjusted to his length, he began to thrust into me at a decent pace. He leaned his head down and kissed me deeply while bringing a hand down to rub my clit.

“Ani, go faster” I begged. He began to go faster and felt the knot in my stomach begin to unravel. I let out louder moans until they became incoherent babbles.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good around my cock.” Anakin let out the most glorious whimper I’d ever heard. That was enough to send me into orbit.

“I’m so close” I told him, and he began to thrust faster.

“Fuck baby, me too.” He whined. He kept thrusting faster until I felt my orgasm coming.

“Ani, I’m gonna come.” I moaned. He looked into my eyes and smiled.

“Come with me baby” and with those words I felt my orgasm take over my body as his thrusts began to slow down as he came in me.

“Fuck, y/n” He panted as he pulled out. He bent down and pushed his cum back into my leaking hole, eliciting a moan from my lips.

He got off of me and laid beside me. He then pulled me close to him, so my head was on his chest.

“You have no idea, how long I’ve wanted to do that for.” He confessed and I smiled as I began to trace circles on his chest with my finger.

“Me too” I replied. He leaned his head down and kissed the top of my head.

“I love you, y/n. So much.” He said softly as his hand ran up and down my back.

“I love you too Anakin.” I replied. We laid there, talking. At one point he brought the blanket over us. After a bit, we started to get tired, and it didn’t take long before I fell asleep in his arms. Where I belonged.

[justmeinadaze]

Take It Out On Me Part 4 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: God I am about to start my period and I needed this y'all. Lol. It does lean more towards Steve than Steddie in this case and there was a reason story wise that I did that.

Enjoy!

Warnings: Dom Steddie and Plus Size sub reader. Like I said this is more of a Steve chapter but reader does mention Eddie a lot and the events of the previous chapter. Phone smut so dirty talk abound with degrading. Reader does get picked on again by Carol and starts a fight (both girls get hurt; not much), Reader hits Steve, she does use the save word but its not in a sexual setting. You'll see.

I think that's it.

Word Count: 3708

“What happened?!”

“Masie, Jesus Christ, nothing happened. Steve let me use his shower and then I crashed in the guest bedroom. It’s fine.”

Over the weekend and into the start of new school week, your friend continued to ask you the same question repeatedly. Every time you gave her the same answer but she never seemed to believe it. 

“Why would you even want to stay there?”

“Can we drop it? Please?”

“Fine. I’ll drop it for now but at some point, you have to come clean about your crush on Eddie Munson.” You roll your eyes as you close your locker and walk with her to lunch. “You know his dad is in jail, right?”

“Maze!”

“What! I’m just saying.”

As you both headed to your table, Eddie flashed you a small smile before focusing his attention back to his friends. When you passed Steve’s usual table, however, you were surprised to find that he wasn’t there. He had been in class that morning so he was here today and he was in class that afternoon. 

You wanted to ask him what was going on but you still didn’t know how to approach him or Eddie during school hours. You didn’t even know what the three of you were. 

Since you no longer had detention, you promptly returned home after school and tried to focus on your homework but it was hard. They both kept flashing through the back of your mind. You still didn’t know much about either of them and they definitely didn’t know anything about you. 

You did know Eddie Munson’s father was in prison but you weren’t sure what for. The town came up with their own ideas and used them against the metalhead whenever they could. Your parents always warned you to stay away from him because he was “bad news” but to you the rumors always seemed far-fetched. 

Steve Harrington you thought you did know but as you learned you didn’t. Every time you two talked, you found out something new and the new pieces left you more confused. 

For two people who seemed to like to take charge, they appeared to have little to no control over their surroundings.  

The sound of your phone ringing shook you out of your thoughts as you leaned over to your bed side table to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/N. It’s Steve. Steve Harrington.”

“Hey. Good thing you told me your last name. Wouldn’t want to confuse you with the other Steve I’m expecting to call.” The sound of his breathy laugh made you grin. 

“Fuck that other Steve. I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“No. You’re not bothering me. I’m just doing my homework for our history class.”

“None of that shit makes any sense to me.”

“I, um, I can help you…if you want. Maybe, after school or something.”

“You’d want to help me?”

“Yeah, of course. Eddie to if he wants it. I know he’s having some trouble with Ms. O’Donnell’s class.” There was silence on his end except for the sound of his steady breathing. A sigh escaped your lips at the action, reminding you of falling asleep beside his warm, comforting frame. “Steve. Why weren’t you at lunch today?”

“Were you looking for me, honey?”

“No. I mean, I pass you both on the way to my table and you weren’t at yours with your friends.”

“Yeah. I didn’t feel like…dealing with them today.”

“Hm. I understand the feeling.” He became silent again making you worry. “Steve…are you okay?”

“Of course, I am.” You heard what sounded like him adjusting his body as he shifted on his bed. “Why? Do I not sound fine?”

“You just sound a little…lethargic.”

“Why? Because I’m calling to talk to you?! Look, I just wanted to hear your voice, okay?”

“Steve! Steve! Breathe, baby.” You have no idea where that term of endearment came from or what gave you the confidence to use it. Maybe it was hearing his panic or you just needing to hear his own confidence return. He didn’t scold you for saying it nor reprimand you in anyway so you decided to test the waters and see where this took you when it came to Steve Harrington. 

“Breathe. I’m glad you called. I really am. I just hate hearing you sound so sad. I wish I could be there so I could hold you and make you feel better.”

His breathing had begun to slow and you felt the tension break. “Is that all you would do if you were here?”

“I’d do anything you wanted me to, sweetheart. I belong to you and Eddie.”

“Yeah, baby. You do. Where are you right now? In bed?” When you confirm, his groan fills the receiver. “Me to. What, uh, what are wearing?”

“Nothing attractive.”, you giggle. “I have a big, blue oversized shirt and my pajama shorts.” 

Steve chuckles at your admission; not in a mocking way but filled with adoration especially at your honesty. “Most girls lie about that kind of thing. It’s kind of ridiculous like guys don’t expect you to be lounging at home in your lingerie.”

“Well, I don’t have any lingerie so”, you laugh harder. 

“Shit, Y/N. We need to correct that as soon as possible! I’m not going to lie though; I think you still look sexy in what you have on.”

“How would you know!? You can’t even see me.”

“Because you look beautiful in everything you wear.” A pleasure filled gasp finds its way from your lips. You weren’t expecting that. “Yeah? You like hearing me compliment you, pretty girl?”

“I…I do.”

“Why don’t you get naked for me? Like when you were here.” While you do as your told, he continues to talk to you. “I really did like waking up with you naked next to me. I can’t stop thinking about how gorgeous your fucking body is. Every fucking curve just…drives me crazy. Fuck, I’m so fucking hard right now just thinking about it.”

“Steve…”, you moan at his words as you climbed back into bed with your legs spread. 

“Do you have toys or anything?”

“Please. My parents would kill me if they found anything like that.”

“How do you usually get yourself off?”

“Honestly? I…don’t.”

Now this particular laugh he gave was meant to tease. “Honey, you’re telling me that you, the girl that said she likes to be used and fucked senseless…DOESN’T play with herself almost every day?”

“I’m telling you…yes.”, you smirk. “It’s not that I don’t know how or don’t want to…it just never worked for me. And I haven’t tried since we started fucking because I’m too fucking sore.”

You both laugh, yours much breathier than his. 

“Is your pussy still sore?”

“A little. Eddie really wore it out.”

“I bet he did. Did you like it though? Him fucking you like the whore you are?

“Steve.”, you whimpered as your hips slowly began to grind onto air. 

“Answer me, Y/N.”

“Yes, I liked him fucking me like a whore.”

“Fuck. Put your fingers between your legs, baby, and tell me how fucking wet you are.”

Gliding you digits between your folds; you feel the slick practically leaking down your thighs. “You’re making me drip, Steve. My sheets are soaked already. Are…are you stroking your big, thick cock?”

“Y/N, I’ve been palming my dick since you said you belong to us.”

“Aw, do you need me to remind you sometimes?”

“No…I just like hearing you say it. To hear you…fuck…submit. Put your fingers inside of your cunt.” Steve’s tone became more forceful and you promptly did as he commanded, whimpering at the feeling. “God, you sound so fucking sexy. H-how many fingers are you using?”

“Mmm—two.”

“Use one more.”

“Steve…I-I-I can’t.”

“Don’t fucking talk back to me. Remember, you’re the whore here, Y/N. You can take—mmm—our cocks but you can’t take three of your tiny fingers?!”

Your mouth opened in a silent O as you squeeze one more digit into your tight hole, moaning at the sweet feeling of you stretching yourself open. 

“Good girl. Such a good fucking girl for me. How does it feel?”

“Full…so…full. Fuck…I’m gonna—”

“Me to. Cum for me, honey.” You turned your head, muffling your moans in your pillow as you came. On the other line, you heard Steve grunt followed by his own heavy breathing. 

“Are you…okay?”

“Yeah…yeah, I am. Fuck.”, you laughed as your head fell back. 

“Don’t put your clothes back on. I want you to fall asleep naked and dream of me, pretty girl. Okay? Fuck, I wish you had a toy so you could sleep with it inside you because I would give anything to be able to do that with you right now.”

“Steve…”

“Do you like that idea? Fuck, just thinking of me and Eddie being able to fall sleep with us both inside you is making me hard again. Waking up in the middle of the night to take you again…over and over…Jesus.”

“Steve…I-I have to go. Please, don’t get me worked up again.”, you giggle trying to hide your moans at his words. “Good night, baby.”

“Sweet dreams, beautiful.”

#################

During your free period the next day, you sat in the hallway leaning near your locker as you studied for an up coming test. The sound of squeaking sneakers followed by loud skidding made you look up just in time to see Eddie sliding on his jeaned knees toward your side.

“Hey princess.” You giggled as you grinned up at him. “What are you doing out here?”

“I’m just studying for a test.” When you flashed him your notecards, he immediately yanked them out of your grasp as he got more comfortable beside you. 

“Geez, look at you all prepared. Why are you out here and not in the library or something?”

“There’s no one out here.” You gesture along the hallway for emphasis. “Plus, it’s quieter than the library…for some reason.”

“I heard you offered to help Harrington and I with our classes.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. I don’t mind. I’m not great with everything but…” Eddie nods as you flash him a tiny smile. 

“I’d like that a lot. Unless it’s D & D, I struggle to retain that information. It’s almost like my brain shuts off or something.” He hands you back your cards and you place them in your lap. “How are you doing? Since the party I mean.”

“I’m ok. My dad didn’t smell any of the beer and thankfully Masie’s mom smokes so anything from your van he didn’t take as out of the ordinary.”

“Are you trying to tell me that my van smells like smoke?” He playfully squints his eyes at you as you laugh. 

“I’m saying that sometimes when I leave you two, I come in smelling like you two especially your cigarettes.” You glance towards the floor as you fidget with your hands. “It doesn’t bother me though…the smoke smell. It, um, makes me think of you now.”

You blushed as you felt his eyes on your face. “Sweetheart, you can’t get all shy on me now. Especially after a little bird told me you said you enjoyed me fucking you like the whore you are.” Your eyes locked with his as he grinned. “I wish I heard you say it for myself.”

After looking around, you reached for his chin as your thumb glided along him bottom lip. “I liked you fucking me, Eddie. I told Steve I was still sore from how you stretched me open.”

His breath stuttered a bit as his lips puckered out to kiss the pad of your finger. You both jumped a part at the sound of heels as a teacher breezed pass the hallway. 

“I wish I could fuck you right now.”, he whispered. “I have to go to this stupid fucking class or Principal Higgins threatened to suspend me again. My uncle will throw a fit.”

“Is that who you live with… your uncle?”

“Yup. In the trailer park a few miles down the way.”

“Where’s your mom?”

Eddie’s eyes meet yours with an amused smile. “I’m assuming since you asked that instead of where both my parents are that you’ve heard the rumors about my dad.”

“I know the town has their own stories… I’d rather hear it from you. Whenever you’re ready I mean.” 

He scans your over trying to get a read on you just as Steve had. You jump when the bell rings and students quickly begin filing out into the hall. Without another word, he rises to his feet, smiling down at you before disappearing in the herd of kids.

#############

As the day came to a close, you headed for the parking lot, lost in the prospect that one of the boys would call you tonight. You froze as you noticed a small crowd had gathered near a spot you were sure your car was currently sitting. As you pushed past people, the murmurs got louder until you finally made your way to the middle. 

You bag and books fell to the ground as your arms collapsed to your sides. On the side of your vehicle, spray painted in big letters were the words “Fat whore” in bright orange. The first thing that flashed through you mind was panic. How am I supposed to drive home with this? Everyone is going to see it. My parents are going to quiz me and demand to speak with the principal. They would cause a scene which is something I don’t need. 

Then, that fear was replaced with extreme anger. He told them. Steve told them about what him and I have been up to. How could he do this? I knew he wasn’t any different!

“Love the new paint job, Y/N?” Carol’s snarky tone cut through your internal breakdown. “I think it suits you.”

Something snapped inside of you as you gradually made your way over to before punching her square in the nose. Carol fell backwards, collecting her bearings before charging at you. As you both fell to the ground, the crowd started screaming and chanting. 

Suddenly, you felt an arm wrap around your waist and lift you off the girl underneath you. You fought trying to get back to her but it was no use.

“Y/N! Stop! Stop it!” Eddie held you tighter to him as he tried to calm you down. 

“Get the fuck off of me!”, you shouted.

“Stupid bitch! This isn’t over!”, Carol screamed as Tommy cupped her face in his hands. 

“Yes, it is!” Steve’s voice boomed over everyone else’s as he placed himself in front of you. “Stop this now. No more name calling or humiliating her. Just leave her the fuck alone.”

“What’s it to you?”, Tommy asked. “We’re your friends and if I recall Stevie boy you laughed along with us when we were doing that so called ‘humiliation’ in the past.”

“You’re not my friends anymore. Now get the fuck out of my face or else I will make yours look exactly like your girlfriend’s.”

They glared at each other before Tommy turned around and tugged Carol’s arm as they headed for their car. Steve swiveled his body to face you as you continued to fight against Eddie’s hold. As soon as they are far enough away and the crowd had dissipated, he releases you and you promptly fly towards the other boy, smacking him in the face. 

“How could you do this to me!? I thought you were different! How could you tell them everything?!” 

You fist flew again and he immediately caught your wrist, spinning you around till your back was against his chest. 

“Eddie. Van.”

You continue to struggle as he clings to you, pushing you forward to follow the metalhead. Once they reach his vehicle, Eddie climbs in and starts the engine while Steve throws you in the back, crawling in behind you. 

The van begins to move as you continue to fight and push, him allowing it before capturing you again and trapping you in his lap. What’s happening? Where are they taking me? How could he do this? How could he do this? How could he—"

“VANILLA!”

As soon as you shout the safe word, Eddie stomps on the breaks causing all the three of you to tilt forward. You climbed out of the bed of the van, tears clouding your vision as you began to walk away. 

“Y/N, wait.” Steve tries to grab your arm, ducking when you take another swing. “Please, I’m trying to respect your boundaries but you need to stop hitting me!”

“How could you do that!?”

“Do what?! What do you think I did!?”

“You told them! You told them I like being degraded and used!”

“Y/N, I haven’t talked to either of them since my party on Saturday.”

“Oh, fuck you! So, Carol just happens to call me a whore the day after we talk about it over the phone?!”

“I swear on my life I only told Eddie about that call. Honestly, it’s kind of pissing me off that you think I would ever stoop that low and hurt you like that! I may be an asshole but I’m not a complete fucking asshole.”

“That makes no sense.”, Eddie chuckles behind him. Steve rolls his eyes as he places his hands on his hips.

“How can I trust you, Steve? Tommy was right. You laughed along with them many times. What am I supposed to think?”

The man sighs as he begins to angrily pace. A thought shimmers in his eyes before he marches towards the van and sits on the back end. 

“What are you doing?”, you ask as he starts taking off his shoes.

“I don’t know how to show you that you can trust me especially after all the fucked up shit that I’ve done so I’m going for the next best thing.” 

Eddie’s jaw drops as Steve takes off his shirt and pants, exposing himself for anyone who should be driving by. 

“Tell me what I have to do. I’ll stand here all night or I can go back to the school and saunter down the hallways with my dick hanging out. Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it.” A smile creeps across your face causing him to breathe a sigh of relief. “Y/N, I swear I didn’t say a word. Carol says stupid shit like that all the time. It’s like the only words she knows are ‘Whore. Bitch. And Tommy is it in yet.”

You laugh hard at that as he gradually steps toward you. “May I hug you?” As soon as you nod, he arms descend around you, clinging to your body. When you hiss, he pulls back slightly, seeing the blood glistening on your shoulder. “Munson.”

“Oh shit. Yeah, I have some stuff at the trailer. Looks like she scratched you good, sweetheart. Do you feel safe enough to come over or do you want me to take you home?”

“I can come over.”

##############

Eddie’s room was completely different from Steve’s but exactly how you would picture it when it came to the metalhead. It was a total mess which didn’t seem to bother him at all as he tore through the area looking for something to take care of you. The band posters on the wall made you smile as they were some of the bands you and Masie always listened to when you slept over. 

You reached out and picked up a folder hanging slightly off his nightstand. “Advanced Dungeons & Dragons Screen”. As you flip through it, your eyes take in all the monster and story information he’s collected, smiling at the sloppy notes he’s written along to side. 

“Steve, is there a particular reason you haven’t put your clothes back on?”, Eddie asks as he throws himself down on the bed next to you. “Take this off, babe.”, he whispers softly as he tugs at the hem of your shirt.

“It was to prove a point but now I’m just comfortable.”, he chuckles.

“Shit. I have to call my dad. May I?”, you ask as you reach for his phone. 

He nods as he places the damp rag in his hand on your shoulder and you hiss at the sting. Eddie’s other hand runs through your hair down the back of your head and you smile at the gesture as you dial your home phone. 

“Jesus, Y/N, where are you? You were supposed to be home 30min ago.”

“I know, mom. I’m sorry. My car kind of gave out on me so Masie’s dad towed it to the shop. I’m still here.”

“Hm. Well, I’m glad you’re ok. Will you be spending the night again? I need to know so I can tell your dad.”

Your eyes shift between the men in front of you as you try to decide. “Um, yeah. I will be spending the night. That way I can pick up my car in the morning before school.”

“That’s a good idea. Ok, sweetie. Have fun with Masie and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Look at you, you bad girl.”, Eddie grins as you hang up the phone. “What gives you the idea that you CAN spend the night here, hm?”

“SOMEONE informed me that you both like sleeping beside me naked so… I figured I’d utilize the opportunity.” You beamed up at him as he removed the rag and tossed it to the side. 

“Um, fuck, I don’t have any bandages or anything. Not ones big enough for this.”

“It’s ok. It doesn’t really hurt as much anymore…”

“I can grab some from the corner store when I go get her car later.”

“Oh, Steve, you don’t have to do that—”

“Do you not want me to?”, he cut you off. 

“Um, I mean, I don’t mind. I’m just saying—”

“Ok. Case closed.”

Eddie rolls his eyes as the other man leans back flat on his bed, reaching on to his floor, and throwing a pair of sweats at him. “At least but on some pants for right now for God’s sake. I think you proved your point.”

###########

@manda-panda-monium @sherrylyn628 @local-stoner-bitch

@katethetank @danandphilequalsmemes @luna-munson83

@sidthedollface2 @mandyjo8719 @bexreastoomuch @chelebelletx

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[unabashednightmarepizza]

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑁𝑒𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑏𝑜𝑟

A/N: My ass couldn't wait to publish this work even though I wanted to wait a few days but the feedback was amazing... So HERE IS YOUR MEAL GALS!

Taglist: @lol-im-done @lu002 @keepingitlokiii

Series Masterlist

It had been a long day of studying and working for you, being able to return back home in the middle of the night, very later than you normally came, and there was nothing more you wanted than sleeping the rest of the night away. Getting to hear your teachers in college scold everyone and anything, while thinking of a way to reach your work place on time and planning what to cook for your sisters...

Life was hard, but yours was more like a death penalty.

Thankfully, the Adlers from the next house was kind enough to let you, more like make you, leave them in their care while you went to college and then work, helping in any way they can. You felt bad for the elder woman, thinking that you were being a liability when she hit your head hard, saying that your sisters alongside with her grandchildren lifted her energy up.

And now, even though you were tired and ready to explode on someone, you knew that your sisters needed their older sister more. “Hey, you said you didn’t understand something about your homeworks, right? Let me help you while we eat some junk food, okay?”

The happy squeals they let out made you coo after them sweetly, getting to the kitchen to prepare a hot drink and some chips and dried fruits. You were at ease knowing that what they were about to bring wouldn’t be so bad...

They were 11 year-olds in middle school, how bad could it be?            

“You guys see this in school?! That was in my highschool!”

“Yeah, sis we told you! We complained the stupidity of the government but you said it couldn’t be that bad!” you grumbled under your breath, not really having something to say to that while erasing what you had written.

“Okay, smart ass, I was wrong! Now, here is an easy way to solv-“

All three of you winced when an ear-piercing baby crying was heard from the next door house, you looking at the door with an agitated look. Breathing through your nose, you dropped the pen and gripped your hairs thightly, hoping that the voice would cut and the silence of the night would engulf the peaceful street...

But it was only for a brief second when a louder one reached the every house around.

“I think they’re having troubles with the baby...”

“Yeah, heard some of the ladies’ pitying eyes and talk of how they had to raise a newborn baby alone...” your sisters mumbled between each other, looking at the door worriedly and you raised a brow curiously at seeing a clear worry on their faces. For the most part, you were aware that you didn’t have the chance to meet with your neighbors except Miss Adlers and you swore you weren’t all that interested in whoever there was in the house next to yours but...

“What do you mean? Do you eavesdrop now?”

“No, we swear we don’t! But you know we’re tiny,”

“And we’re mostly thought to be stupid that we can’t understand adult talks... Which makes bringing tea easier.” They laughed in delight and high-fived, proud of themselves for outsmarting you while your eyes welled with slight tears.

When did they grow up so much?

“Okay, you little gossippers. Now tell me what you know too.”

“Ohhh~ Are you interested in the young dad next door?”

You flushed at her teasing smirk and pushed her away from your face to grab a jacket to see if there was anything you could help with the baby while listening to the cocky siblings you had. “Well, his name is Joel Miller, 20 year old male living with his brother who likes to get in jail. Married for a short amount of times but the mother left them, reason: unknown. He likes to play guitar, has the cow eyes and as the ladies call ‘is a sight for sore eyes’.”

You looked at her confused, and horrified, since they knew -possibly- everything about a human being that someone could know, while laying on the ground and posing, looking at their nails as if it was the strangest thing in the world. “Ho-How do you know all of these?!” you exclaimed angrily while getting the keys and walking up to the door, trying not to feel ashamed at learning such things about a man you didn’t even know up until just a few minutes ago.

“Don’t forget to tell Tommy that using a baby to lure women to himself is lame!”

“And we learnt them all because people in this street are noisy!” they waved you out while relaxing on the couch, and you shivered at the chill night breeze. These were the last things you heard before you threw yourself out, swearing to never let the others gossip with them in the same room. All the things they said was interesting, a man being left with a kid when it was usually the other way around nowadays. You were impressed that he was a hands-on father, trying his best while he probably didn’t know a thing about looking after a baby by the increasing wailing of the baby.

You let out an angry scowl at the irritating high-pitched cry, ready to just bang the door for ruining the silence you needed so badly after hours of working and that was what you were about to do before a thought crossed your mind, which made you frown to yourself in disappointment.

That was the same reaction you got when you were a young kid, taking care of your little siblings when your parents were off working, not caring much about their children.                                        

You also felt helpless as they screamed their hearts out, trying and failing to understand what was wrong with them or what they needed. How you felt angry, irritated tears came to your eyes, how you felt ashamed at the many stares you got as if you were the one who was supposed to care for little babies as if you birthed them...

You wouldn’t make the same mistake.

Knocking on the door with a soft sigh, you heard a panicked shit coming from inside and came a black haired man who looked very much so miserable with sweat running down his forehead, He wasn’t able to look at you throughly because of the worry that they were irritating people and he imediately started spit apologies. “I’m sorry for causing so much discomfort, I swear we are-“

“Hey,hey,hey! It’s okay, I’m not here to complain like an old woman...” he sighed in relief and slumped over the door, your heart breaking for their obvious misery while you held the tired and exhausted man up by his shoulders when probably-no scratch that- the most handsome and cute guy you had ever seen in your goddamn life came in your view with a cute, yet wailing, baby in his arms.

“Tommy, I swear if it’s another woman when I’m dying over here-“ Joel’s cursing was cut in the middle when he saw a woman he usually saw coming and getting out of the house next door at ungodly hours. Many times, he wanted to meet you, and many times he failed in that.

Not because he was nervous, but his life was breaking apart with the responsibility of the fatherhood.

He loved his daughter, his precious Sarah, but right now he really felt useless while his baby was still crying in his embrace, face now red like a tomato and discomfort written all over her face. He felt a tear run down his cheek, overwhelmed by the cries and hastily wiped it so that you wouldn’t see…

And maybe it was because of the “mother senses” you got through years of taking care of your sisters but that little baby’s squishable face made you coo at her sweetly. And, like a miracle, she stopped crying for a second and rather sniffled when her eyes turned to you.

Leaving both men in shock.

“How the- Are you a baby whisperer or something?!” yelled Tommy in excitement, the loud voice causing Sarah to start crying again and ending up with you slapping his chest while Joel bounced the little girl, hoping it would bring comfort to her. Though it seemed that her uncle being hit in front of her was enough to make Sarah stop once again.

“Stop screaming, dumbass! Baby ears are sensitive!” you whisper yelled, Joel snorting amusedly at his brother’s misery when a voice he never liked- the voice of a woman who always thought he knew the best- reached the three of you, causing you to turn sharply and look around the corner of the still-open door with flaming eyes.

“Oh God, young people and them making babies at such young ages when they can barely take care of themselves... That’s why we can’t live in peace-“

“Maybe, the reason why you can’t bear the cries of a baby- when that’s the most natural thing- is because of your old fruitlets, you bonker!” you yelled over the door, angry at witnessing yet another “Karen” when the said woman got embrassed, a few other people looking out and having sympathetic eyes turned to you three, and got inside her house, probably cursing at you but you didn’t care.

They weren’t the ones trying to be best here.

It really was nothing, in your eyes. People always loved to judge a mother/father, always ready to act like they were born with the ways of taking care of a baby, and even going as far as humilating the parent by telling them they couldn’t take care of their own baby.

And you couldn’t stop them all maybe, but you wouldn’t let anyone pull that shit in your presence.

And as someone who wasn’t used to having the kindness of people, real kindness, Joel was left amazed at how quick you were to defend them and how you defended them as if they were your family.

Maybe, you weren’t that bad and even came here with worry obviously.

But seeing your doe eyes turning to his hazel, tired ones with the softest look given to him and then the baby in his embrace... He thought he could trust someone again.

“I know that as her dad, you would be the best one to know her but... By the looks of you two, she is giving you a hard time and everyone needs some help at one point... So, would you like me to help?”

And the answer to that innocent question was one that would change everything for everyone at that moment.

And little Sarah, without knowing, brought two people that would care for each other and her the most by choosing to be calm and cute in your presence.

“I wouldn’ wanna make you uncomfortable-“

“Nonsense, I think this little lady over here,” you brought a finger close to her tummy and slightly tickled her, causing her to erupt in giggles which made the man holding her look at you as if you were the center of his world while the girl took a hold of your hand to chew. “Had already chosen me to be here... I swear I’m not some dangerous woman, only one that wants to help.”

And when Joel let you inside with a relaxed sigh after hours of crying, Tommy saw that his brother smiled for the first time over a year.

“I swear you are a baby whisperer, how did you manage to calm her down and then manage to play with her?” you laughed at the astonished looks the two brothers were giving you, sitting on the ground with Sarah over your lap, rubbing her back to get the gas out of her while she laid against you like a sack of patato with a happy smile over her chubby face.

“No, I’m not. I’m just someone who had to take care of two babies.” They both grimaced softly, impressed that you took care of two when they were barely able to take care of one. Joel watched you slowly pat the soft curls on his daughter’s head with a serene look, as if that was what you were born to do. He looked at the happy smile on her lips, how thight she was holding onto you as if you’d disappear when she bit and cried bloody murder whenever a woman would come close to him and her. It was almost like she felt their bad aura, trying to protect her dad from them even when she was a tiny baby but the same gremlin-like kid was now a putty, sleeping on you like an angel.

He wondered what was different with you, that made you kind enough and brave enough to come and help two men in the middle of the night...

He wondered what it was that different with you from the woman he once called his wife, that made it so easy for you to stay for her.

He came back from his dreaming when Tommy sat next to you to watch you softly caress Sarah’s little back, noting how you did to ease her, chuckling when her cheeks and lips squished together on your shoulder while she started to sleep peacefully. “I think we’re good for the rest of the night...”

“Hmm, can’t believe a baby could be that sweet yet also scaring... She’s a sweetheart though.” Joel smiled at you kindly when your eyes found his and he got up to take the baby from you, your hands slowly finding her armpits to raise her off of your chest to not wake her...

Which failed when she started to whimper at the loss of warmth.

“Oh, someone chose her favourite person, it seems~” Tommy whistled at you two, making you flush under Joel’s intense look while your heart beated hard under your clothes at how Sarah was just so comfortable with you. Most of the times, it would be like this. Just a few minutes in their presence, and they would slither close to you.

I guess this is God’s way of telling me I should become a mother but...

After much working, and failing, you looked at Joel for help when he smiled to you and pointed to her crib across the bedroom, eyes softly looking at the image of you holding Sarah. “You can put her in her crib, if you wan’ it. It’s fine...”

You nodded at his words, getting up with the help of Tommy and going to the crib and lowering your upper body to lay the girl softly on her bed and giving her a plushie to hug. For a few seconds, you just stood there, absentmindedly caressing her cheeks while you watched her sleep. For some strange reasons, you couldn’t leave her. It felt strange, how she suddenly took a hold of your heart and you already loved her when she grabbed your finger.

If you only knew how important she would become to you.

While you were deep in your thoughts, Joel stood at the door when you didn’t come back after 5 minutes, worried that something happened but was pleasantly surprised at seeing you so soft with Sarah, leaning over with his hands crossed on his chest and watched with love-filled eyes at his daughter’s happiness. It had been a hard day for him, with both working and looking after his daughter. It had been a while that all three of them were that happy and peaceful and to think that it was all thanks to the magical touch of a woman next door...

He thought you would be a good mother one day, watching how you interacted with a baby that had nothing to do with you and how loving you were to your sisters even if they annoyed you.

It’s a family thing I guess, he thought sadly. Why couldn’t I get that? Haven’t I already given enough..?

“I'm sorry I made you leave your kids alone, you can go if you want...” he said after pulling himself together, with a shy look at you when he saw the moonlight light up your tired features. You were surprised at hearing his voice so suddenly, even if that was his house, and you realized that he had talked to you and waited for you to say something while smirking amused at your startled face.

“ Wait, wait... Ah, they’re not my kids. I know it seems like that, with those two being glued to my legs, and they could be considered I guess since I’ve been taking care of them my whole life but... They’re my sisters.” You explained, rambling hurriedly, watching the shock on his face at the revelation and you chuckled at the cute look he had before getting out of the room, checking Sarah if everything was fine with her one least time when he spoke hurriedly after you, trying to apologize while thinking he had offended you.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend-“ he held his neck awkwardly, not knowing how to act before a woman after a year of living isolated. Seeing him trully sorry, thinking you were offended, you gave a genuine smile to him and took a hold of his arm, rubbing it softly and Joel understood why Sarah became a jello under your embrace.

If that same feeling were to engulf him too, he would also slump against you.

“Calm down... Joel, right? It’s okay, it’s mostly the look I get whenever I explain it. I’m used to it by now and to be honest you were the most normal reaction I ever got.” He sighed in relief and looked at you as if there was something he wanted to say, and for the most part he did.

He really wanted to talk to you, have you a bit longer here so that he could experience the comfort and light you emitted.

“Can I get you anything? Coffee, maybe? For the help you have given us?” he mumbled anxiously, palms sweating tons when you stopped mid-action, jacket still in your hands and you gave a small smile to him. You really wanted to, it has been a long time since you relaxed after all. It wasn’t every day that you had a guy offering something, and though it wasn’t a date...

You wanted to consider some sort of that.

“I would like it very much, if that’s not a problem?” you dropped the jacket and sat down while he gave you a small smile before disappearing in the kitchen.

“Never, wait here and get comfy.” Joel immediately set off to impress you, the instinct to do so being foreign to him, It wasn’t like you were his girlfriend, or someone he dated or cared, this was the first time he saw you but it almost felt like he knew you for a long time.

As if you two spent your lives together. And though he didn’t ask for your favourite coffee, a gut feeling in him somehow told him to go with it and bring the coffee to you with shaky hands.

You who had been looking at the many pictures on the wall silently, with a soft smile. Upon seeing him and his shaky smile, you took the cup from him thankfully and your mouth went dry when your fingers touched each other, twitching to hold onto more. You thought he would maket he coffee as he wanted, not really knowing how you liked the hot drink since he didn’t ask you.

But accepting that drink was the best decision you have ever made. This, this masterpiece of a coffee was the best one you ever had. ”You are a God-sent, Joel. This is the best coffee I’ve ever drank!” he chuckled at your enthusiatic voice, butterflies erupting in him after a long time, making a flustered smile sit on his handsome face when he plopped down next to you, but still putting some space just in case.

“I’m glad, you seemed like you needed that.”

“Oh, yeah. Taking care of two rascals while studying and working is hard really.”

“You go to college? What do you study?” he straightened up slightly and leaned over, trully excited and curious of what you do. And though you normally wouldn’t do this, you trusted him and his stupid, flustered smile.

“Psychology, and though it’s what I always wanted to do... It’s a pain in my ass.” You responded with an equally happy smile, Joel returning it enthusiasticly, wanting to learn more about what you learn since he never got to go college.

And though you were tired before coming here, both he and Sarah had that strange way to make you energetic and alive that you two now standing before each other whole you explained one of the theories you learnt today. And maybe, Joel didn’t understand a thing but seeing you so happy to talk to him out of everyone made him realize that he’s also a 20 year old just like you.

And that Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs was an interesting one.            

And it was also interesting to you... which made you trip over a toy mid-explaining, ready to humilate yourself in front a guy...

Good thing, it didn’t happen... Bad thing? You were nose to nose with a guy you had just met with blown eyes.

Joel reacted fast, knowing how much those toys hurted, and leaped up to hold your waist to stop you from falling that essentially ended with you two nose to nose, his arms holding onto your waist thight while your hand bunched the shirt he wore, the scene looking as if it was out of a romance movie.

You both blushed, hollow breaths leaving your mouths harshly and you could smell the cologne he wore, how his arms felt like holding onto you, holding you to his chest. You got lost in the hazel of his eyes, feeling the same pull you did when you were looking at Sarah...

As if you had been waiting for them.

In the middle of your internal freaking out, Joel, unknown to you, also felt the same pull. He couldn’t lie, even when he was with Sarah’s mother, he never felt trully whole. As if he had found his true happiness...

As if he found a reason.

And looking at you, all kind and soft, helping and everything good, Joel couldn’t stay as a stranger to the beating of his heart. He got lost in your eyes, wondering what it would be like to hang out with you more...

You were definetly a beauty. A beauty that wouldn’t look for a man with a kid.

But your eyes almost invited him in, lips plush and waiting while he felt your fingers slowly caress his cheek. Was that how heaven felt-

“Sis, come here! She is finally getting a guy!”

“Damn, I didn’t think It would be that fast!”

You both widened your eyes and looked at the window, only to see your two sisters in front of their open windows, eating some chips while watching you two as if it was the most interesting thing for them.

You immediately pulled away from Joel, both sides missing the other’s warmth and scent, and ran to the open window to yell at them angrily while your cheeks felt hot even with the chill air.

For both ruining the moment, and also still being awake.

“What are you two bugs doing awake at this hour? You two have school tomorrow!” you exclaimed while Joel laughed behind you, the sound of it setting your heart aflame while one of your sisters waved to him, Joel doing the same when two angel-looking kids turned to you with mischievous looks

And it amused Joel so much so that he just leaned his hip to the side and watched you two roast the other.

“We know but just wanted to make sure that we’re still gonna watch that movie before sleeping...”

“ All you think is movies... Yeah, we are gonna watch it.” you looked at them to finally go and sleep, but the more timid one out of the two looked up shyly.

“Can... Can the baby come too? If her dad allows?” your worried eyes turned to Joel, who didn’t expect them to invite him and his daughter. He didn’t have many friends and this time was the first time he interacted with someone more than a few minutes.

And you could see that he liked his peace, by the way how you didn’t realize there were people living next to you.

“You don’t have to accept, if you don’t want to. I’ll talk to them-“ you offered him, not wanting to be here and let your sisters make you feel flustered anymore when a gentle hand caught your wrist to stop you, and gave you the most loving and happy grin he ever did. “We would be happy, as long as the movie is not bad.”

“It’s nothing bad, we swear! We’re gonna watch Barbie the Nutcracker and Barbie as Rapunzel!”

“How the hell can you hear us from there?!” your sister let out a huge laugh at that, while you grumbled under your breath to get out and show them a funny shit, and Joel looked between you two confused, being not well-versed into the many movies you had been watching because of those kids.

“What the hell are those?”

“trust me, you will know them better than your own name when Sarah grows up...” you groaned even more when he chuckled and the most breathtaking smile overtook his face, which made you smile even brighter and let out a shy chuckle.

But obviously, it was a disgusting sight for the eleven years olds.

“It ain’t my fault you don’t know the legendary movie of the century sir, seriously I don’t wanna be an adult... Anyways we’re goin’ sleeping!” they groaned at the love-sick smiles you two were giving to each other, silently betting when you would get together with him.

“You better, kids. I’m not taking your asses out that bed tomorrow!” and that was their final warning before they scurried of to their beds which made you sigh and dart out of the door,remembering all the things you had to write.

But you didn’t forget to turn back and give Joel a thumbs up. “The movie night starts at 8 p.m tomorrow, I’ll be waiting for you.”

And only thing Joel could do, was to make a thumbs up back, and even when he laid down on the bed next to his daughter’s crib, he couldn’t stop the excited beating of his heart. He turned to look at her sweet face with a hand over his heart and chuckled into the deep silence of the night.

“You showed off your picking the right person talents huh, kid?”

[yanderecrazysie]

yan! haruka nanase with a childhood friend reader who finds him amusing? from his obsession with water to his stoicism she can't take him seriously because she finds every haruka thing humorous, like how he submerges himself in the bathtub and how he keeps saying his first crush was a waterfall. all with a straight face! (😆) despite finding it all amusing she knows that he's serious about all those things, what she never believed in was him saying that he loves her and to promise that when they grow they'll marry. she thought he was being silly but entertained him and said: "you're cheating on water and making me your side chick, but sure! let's keep it a secret tho ok~"

and he did, he never brought it up again and she straight up forgot. the trouble began when she admitted to him that she's interested in one of his clubmates. his response? "are you planning on cheating one me? why? have you forgotten what we promised?" thinking that he's bringing up an old joke she giggled at his face. then it dawned on him that she thinks he's not serious about his love.

you know that saying of "actions speak louder than words"? Let's just say he acted in a mild noncon matter towards her after that.

This request made me laugh a little!

I decided to make it suggestive instead of writing non-con since I A: wasn’t sure how to lead into that and B: am still unsure about writing NSFW. I’m so sorry, my precious anon.

Title: Dead Serious

Pairings: Nanase Haruka x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, suggestive content, non-consensual touching, Haru is deadly serious lol

Summary: Haru is a lot more serious than you could have ever imagined.

“Have you ever had a crush, Haru?”

“Yes.”

“Who did you have a crush on?” You asked your best friend curiously.

“A waterfall,” Haru responded softly.

You burst into loud laughter. Your best friend was probably the funniest person you had ever met, but he didn’t even realize it.

Nanase Haruka was a real riot to you, so obsessed with water that he needed it more than air. One time you had burst into his house and, when he called you over, you found him in his swimsuit, submerging himself in the bathtub. You hadn’t held back your laughter then and you certainly didn’t now.

You weren’t exactly a class clown, but you knew a few stand-up routines and endless knock knock jokes. To you, most things were funny, including your serious, water-obsessed friend.

You weren’t sure how you and Haruka had become friends. You had liked swimming for about a year and you had met him and his little swimming crew. Nagisa had immediately started calling you by a nickname he made for you and that led to you calling the others by the names Nagisa had assigned them. They were an interesting group, but Haru stuck out to you the most.

Quiet and mysterious, rarely with something to say. You liked that, found yourself swearing that you’d make him open up to you. So far, that hadn’t worked, but that was okay. You had found a different reason to hang out with him.

He made you laugh. Hysterically.

He kept a straight face when he told you about his crush on waterfalls, so when he turned to you, equally straight-faced, you couldn’t take him seriously.

“Now I have a crush on you.” Haru monotoned.

You snorted with laughter, “So you’re cheating on water and making me your side chick? I’m offended!”

Haru stared at you, unblinkingly, “So you will be my girlfriend?”

You couldn’t stop giggling, “Alright, alright, I accept. But let’s keep that a secret, okay?”

Haru nodded and you laughed so hard you cried.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

You flopped down on your bed and sighed loudly, “Haruuuu.”

Haru looked up from his cross-legged position and stared at you, waiting for you to continue.

“Can we stop with the homework? It’s boring,” You pouted.

Haru closed his math textbook in response. You grinned at him and gave him a genial slap on the back. “That’s my Haru!”

The two of you sat in silence, and you felt yourself start to drift off. Then, you snapped out of it, remembering the question you wanted to ask him.

“Oh, yeah, Haru! I’ve been meaning to ask you,” You said, “Is Makoto single?”

Haru stared at you, his gaze somewhat cold, “Why?”

“Because I’m interested, duh,” You laughed.

Haru’s eyes widened, “You’re going to cheat on me? With him?”

“Cheat on you? What?” You asked, laughter being replaced with confusion.

“Remember our promise? In junior high?”

You thought back and suddenly remembered the conversation, “OH MY GOD, I forgot about that! You’re so funny, Haru!” Your laughter was near hysterical as you thought of how funny Haru was to bring that old joke back up.

“I’m not joking,” Haru said, voice as cold as ice.

Your laughter trailed off, “What?”

Haru stood up, looming over you, “I’m not joking.”

Suddenly, your blood froze over, and you began to tremble. Never had your friend looked this angry.

You tried to sit up, but Haru pushed you back down into your lying position. Then, he crawled onto the bed, straddling you.

“Haru, what are you doing?” You asked, heart pounding erratically.

“I’m going to show you how much I love you,” He said, reaching for your shirt and pulling it over your head. His hand came to rest on your ribcage, just underneath your left breast. Then the hand started moving upwards.

“Then you’ll know how serious I really am.”

[thewayitalknj]

The Song That Follows

Modern!Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Summary-A love song from one of your favorite movies seems to follow you wherever you go and starts to play into your real life ; Prom is just around the corner as well. Word Count-6.7k Warnings-Friends to lovers ; A mention of sleeping together but none is written ; Takes place in 2023.

Quick Notes-Well holy crap, here I am writing for the first time since 2011 probably? I'm a bit rusty, but I hope you enjoy! Just a funny side note, Mrs. K is based off of a real life teacher I had in high school. She did come to my prom drunk (LOL). She also did ask my friends and I to help for the extra credit for a school event but we kindly declined. :) (also I'm insanely obsessed with this song, I hope you love it as well!)

You - Hey! I’m in need of your assistance for the next Photoshop Challenge for Photography, can you meet me in the computer lab after school?

Jonathan - sure, no problem. I’ll see you then!

As the final bell of the day rang you made you way to the computer lab to meet Jonathan, grateful he was willing to help considering you hated asking your own teachers questions yourself. You knew senior year wasn’t going to be easy but as the end of the year started getting closer and closer you couldn’t believe that you and your friends were off to college. Soon there would be one more lunch together, one more after school meet up and one more meeting in the computer lab.

“Hey you finally beat me.” You say walking up to Jonathan who’s waiting for you outside the door.

“Last class was right around the corner, you ready to tackle this assignment?”

“Let’s do it.” 

Time passed as you and Jonathan worked on your homework together. Your objective was to take a photo but add in a random object, then having to take said random object out of the photo with editing. You both were concentrating so hard you didn’t even notice your Sociology teacher, Mrs. K, walking up between you two.

“Good afternoon!”

“Hey Mrs. K, how are you?” You ask smiling. Mrs. K was one of your favorite teachers. She was defiantly a little off but was still the life of the party during class.

“I’m doing well missy thank you for asking. I’m so glad I found you both together, I need to ask you a possible favor.”

“And what would that be?”

“I’m head of the prom committee this year and in need of more volunteers. Just a few students to help out with small things for the night.”

“Ah, and what’s in it for us?” Jonathan asks, smirking.

She laughs and shakes her head. “You know me too well Mr. Byers. Extra credit. I’ll let you know a few weeks before what your jobs will be and it will go towards your final grade of the year. I’ll even knock off some final questions.”

“That’s really nice of you to ask us for help Mrs. K but I already have plans on prom night.” You answer with a pretend sad look on your face. You knew you never wanted to go to prom. You hated getting dressed up, wearing makeup, hell doing your own routine in the morning was frustrating enough.

“Plans already? Prom is another month away how do you already have plans?”

“They just happened to fall on prom night. Look, can we talk it over and get back to you?”

“Sure, I’ll be at the front desk working. Thank you both for your consideration.” With a huge pat on the back to the both of you, she walks away.

“I’m just as confused, how do you have plans already set in stone?” Jonathan raises an eyebrow.

“Like I said, they just happen to fall on the same night as prom. I wasn’t planning on going anyway.”

“Well, let’s think this over real quick. Save your file.” You quickly save your edited work and turn to Jonathan. “This is easy extra credit. Who cares if we have to listen to terrible pop music and dress up for one night. We could even ask Nancy, Eddie and Robin to help too. We can all go as a group. It might be worth it.”

“Nancy and Robin would be on board, Eddie is another story.”

“Why?”

“I know him, okay? Prom is not his style or the place he wants to be.”

“But it’s extra credit. Like I said, easy extra credit. I’m in. How about you?” You thought about it for a moment. He was right, it IS super easy extra credit. Your grade could use a pick me up, and it would be a fun night with friends regardless.

“Okay, you convinced me. Let’s go tell Mrs. K when we’re done editing.” Once you heard the announcement of the computer lab closing you both approached Mrs. K and told her you were in. She was very delighted and thanked you a million times and gave lots of hugs. 

Now the difficult part is coming up, canceling your plans to volunteer on prom night. I’m sure the news will be taken lightly considering the situation, what could possibly go wrong? Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough, right?

Your locker slams shut. “YOU WHAT?”

“Don’t raise your voice on me Munson.” You turn around and begin to head down the hallway towards the lunchroom.

“Come on, we’ve had these plans for months. We made a vow-”

“Yes yes I know we did.”

“And you want to fall to the broken conformity that is…fucking prom?!” You stop and turn around again this time facing him yourself.

“Look Eddie I’m sorry but this is the easiest extra credit you can receive. You have Mrs. K too why don’t you sign up as well. I’m sure you of all people need the exert credit.”

“Wow, ouch.” This time he takes the lead in walking.

“Well it’s too late, I’ll be there. I still think you should go. Our whole group is going to be there so it won’t be like you're alone.”

“That’s not really the point-”

“Then can you please for one night not be the kid who thinks he’s too cool for school?”

“Still not the point but I’m ending this conversation now.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” You both enter the lunchroom and find Nancy, Robin and Jonathan at your usual table.

“Whoa, what’s got your panties in a bunch?” Robin asks Eddie.

“This one,” Eddie points to you, “has canceled plans with me.”

“Oh, whoa is me.” Robin has always been the one for dramatics and you softly laugh to yourself while getting your lunch out.

“Did these plans happen to fall on prom night?” Jonathan then asks.

Eddie rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed even at the word. “Yes they did. Why? Are you to blame for this?” 

“Blame for what? Is this about Mrs. K’s extra credit volunteering?” Nancy interjects.

“I am to blame for this then. Yes, Mrs. K asked us yesterday in the computer lab and we accepted.”

“She asked Robin and I in class today. We signed up too, figured it would be fun.”

“Nancy, you have an A already you don’t need the extra credit.” 

“Yes that’s true but after she told us you two were helping we thought we could go as a group to stick together.”

“My thoughts exactly. See?” Jonathan smiles at you and the girls. Eddie slumps in his chair and sighs.

“I’ll just be alone, in my room, with my guitar and uncle in the other room as he watches reruns of Wheel of Fortune all night.”

“Come on Eddie, can’t you suck it up for one night?” Robin shakes his arm and pouts as she speaks. “It will be a lot of fun. And we can all hang out afterword.”

“I don’t know guys I really don’t want to.”

“Just give it a thought okay? I bet you could use the extra credit as well.” Nancy says.

“Jesus Christ…”

Hey I still feel bad about changing our plans, can I please make it up to you?

1 New Notification 

Eddie - what do you have in mind??

Well I was going to ask if I can join in on Hellfire for the rest of the month but considering I almost killed our whole party in one of our last sessions I don’t think I’m ever welcomed back.

…yeah Dustin and Lucas are still mad about that…can we just have our movie night some other time?

Absolutely! What works for you?

Next Friday?

Perfect, see you then! :)

Movie night was an essential part of your friendship with Eddie. Every other Friday you would get together and watch one of your favorite films. This time it was Eddie’s trailer with you bringing the snacks and choosing the film. And after another long boring day of school you were exited about spending the night with your best friend.

After knocking three times Eddie rushed to the door to let you in. “About time, what was taking so long?”

“I over bought, get ready for your freezer to be full again.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining. Wayne will be happy about it too.” He steps aside to let you in, putting all your bags on the counter.

“Speaking of, where is my favorite long lost uncle?”

“Working per usual but he says hello.” You and Eddie spend the next few minutes getting everything set up. Snacks on the coffee table while the oven baked your favorite appetizers. “Alight so it’s your choice tonight. What streaming service are we using?”

“Amazon Prime.” You answer, grabbing the remote and loading up the app on his TV.

“Hm, different.”

“Eddie Munson, get ready to watch one of the best film of the 80’s. Personally, one of my favorite’s. Not only is it one of my favorite’s but the soundtrack is perfect is every single way.”

“Okay, so what’s it called?”

“Streets of Fire. A rock and roll fable.”

“If it’s one of the best movies of the 80’s why have I never heard of it?”

“Have I also mentioned it is very underrated?”

“Well now you have. Okay, press play.”

“With pleasure.” You press play and the movie begins.

An hour and half seem to pass like it’s nothing. You knew you were going to enjoy the movie but was curious to how Eddie would react. Every so often you would steal some glances at him, and his eyes never left the screen. Hell he never even got up to go to the bathroom or to get more food. “Well…what do you think?”

“That was…wow.”

“Wow good or wow bad? You’re killing me.”

“You weren’t kidding. I loved it. Why isn’t it more well known?”

“Beats me. My Dad showed it to me a few years ago.”

“Why didn’t you show me sooner?”

“Dunno, just came to mind one day and I figured it would be perfect for a movie night and well, here we are. Plus like I said the soundtrack is one of my favorites, I listen to is constantly.”

“Good choice, good choice.” He nods his head in approval and you smile. “Come on, let’s get this place cleaned up.” As you both continue to tidy up you can’t help but think of how Eddie won’t be joining you and your friends for prom.

“Hey.” He looks at you. “Are you sure you don’t want to come to prom with us? It really is going to be fun.” He just laughs and shakes his head. “Eddie…”

“I’m not going hun. I’m sorry, I just don’t want too. None of you can convince me otherwise.” You accept defeat. As much as you want him to join you you know it’s going to be difficult to talk him into going. It’ll take a miracle to get him there. So you figured from that point on you shouldn’t waste your time. 

The end of the night arrived and it was time for you to head back home. You give him a quick hug and he watches you walk back to your car. When you safely enter he closes the trailer door. As your phone connects to car, I Can Dream About You by Dan Hartman pops up as your first shuffled song. “Huh, that’s funny.” You sing along to your favorite song from Streets of Fire and drive on home.

2 New Notification 

Nancy - I’m sorry but Robin is about to text you about dress shopping, just wanted to warn you.

Robin-HEYYYY WE’RE GOING DRESS SHOPPING TODAY AND YOU CAN’T TELL US NO SEE YOU LATER OKAY BYEEEEEEEEE.

“I can’t believe you pulled me out on a Saturday to go dress shopping.” You, Robin and Nancy are standing outside your local mall.

“Ladies,” Robin turns to you both, “I’m what you would call a fashionista.”

“You most certainly are not-” “Far from it actually-” You and Nancy answer at the same time.

“Okay okay, I get it. But you will thank me later when I help pick out your dresses. Now, let’s go girls.” She struts herself into the mall. You and Nancy (again at the same time) roll your eyes and follow right behind her, passing all the local shops until you reach the dress shop.

“This is my own personal nightmare.” You whisper to yourself.

“Heard that, and trust me. Don’t you trust me?” Robin asks.

“NO.” Again, you and Nancy speak in unison.

“Please stop doing that, it’s freaking me out. Now, leave me to my duties. I shall be back in a jiffy.” Nancy takes a seat at the front of the store while you lean against the glass wall.

“Do you really trust her with this shit?” You look over at Nancy who’s scrolling through her phone.

“Honestly no, but we had no choice but to be here or we wouldn’t hear the end of it. So let her have her fun. Who knows, maybe she’ll find us some good choices.”

Turns out Robin was good with fashion if she put her mind to it. She picked out a few dresses for Nancy which she tried on, settling on the third choice. Once it was your turn, Robin led you to your dressing room, closing the curtain. “Um, Robin there’s only one dress in here.”

“I know, try it on. I have my reasons.” You look over the dress, touching it with ease. You admire how pretty it really is and thought you would pick it out yourself if you saw it on the rack. You quickly change out of your clothes into the dress, only to find your having trouble with the zipper. 

“Hey, need help with the zipper. Can’t seem to reach.” You open the curtain and Robin quickly helps, then taking a step back.

“Whoa.” This time, it’s her and Nancy speaking at the same time.

“Whoa good or whoa bad?”

“Whoa good. Look at yourself.” You turn around towards the mirror and step onto the pedestal. You were never for dressing up but this dress was just, perfect.

“Damn Robin, you out did yourself.” You complaint her work, turning around and admiring how the dress fits you perfectly.

“I told you, I have my reasons.”

“And those reasons were?” 

A familiar song starts playing in the store.

“Well for one, the dress is just you. And two-”

“Wait, wait sorry. Hold on.” You point your finger to the speaker and smile. “Sorry, I just love this song.”

“Okay, random.”

“What song is it?” Nancy seemed curious.

“It’s called I Can Dream About You. It’s from the 80’s, it’s actually from one of my favorite soundtracks.”

“What movie?”

“Streets of Fire? Why are you questioning me so much?”

“Because I knew this sounded familiar. Mike was listening to it in his room. When I asked him about the song he said Eddie told him to listen to it.”

“He, he did?”

“Yeah, he said they all started talking about movies and Eddie brought it up. He said he watched it with you-”

“WHICH leads me to reason number two,” Robin interrupts, “this dress will knock Eddie off his feet.” 

“Very funny Robin.” You step down and cross your arms.

“I mean Robin isn’t wrong, Eddie would love this on you.” Nancy agrees, looking you up and down.

“When did this fantasy about Eddie and I start?”

“Oh please, we’ve all known since we were like 15. You belong together, and we all think it.”

“And we all is…?”

“Everyone in our group, even Eddie. But of course he won’t admit it himself because he’s stubborn and men never admit their feelings.”

“Robin-”

“Hush,” she covers your mouth “it is my mission to get you both together by the end of senior year. Also,” she uncovers your mouth, “this song is clearly a sign.”

“Okay Robin you’re loosing it-”

“Oh come on! Don’t you think it’s coincidental that you hear this song while shopping and then learn how Mike was listening to it after you just happen to show Eddie this movie a few weeks ago?” She perks her head to the side, she once again, wasn’t wrong.

“Well-”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re not. And after Eddie and I watched it, it was the first song to pop up on my shuffle.” Robin raises her arms to the sky.

“See?! It’s fate. It’s going to happen I can guarantee it. I will work my magic. Now, let’s go pay for these beauties.” She once again struts her way this time to the cashier.

“And do you have a say in all of this?” You ask Nancy.

“Well, the dress is gorgeous. And I also think you and Eddie belong together. That’s all.” 

“Awesome, great thanks. Can you please unzip me?” Nancy helps as you make your way back in and get dressed back into your normal attire. 

Senior Week had finally arrived, which meant prom was on Friday. Today was a half day for the senior class. It was also the day you found out your special jobs. Thankfully being the wonderful teacher she is, Mrs. K kept you and your friends together and assigned you to help decorate apart of the gym the morning of. Your last event of the day was lunch. “So, what’s this big news you have to share Jonathan?”

“Wait until Eddie comes and I’ll let you all know.” After a few minutes, Eddie sits himself next to you taking out his headphones.

“Sorry, got held up in the library working on an assignment. What’s your big news?”

“I have a surprise for you guys.”

“And what would that be?” Nancy asks.

“Argyle is flying in from California to go to prom with us.”

“No way?!” “That’s awesome!” “Sweet!” Everyone seemed super excited about Argyle flying in, except for Eddie.

“Well, I’m sure you all will have fun together.”

“Come on Munson, you seriously don’t want to come?” Robin sticks out her lip.

“No no and fuck no. You can keep trying but nothing is going to convince me to go.”

“You suck, you know that?”

“Nothing new.” He states.

Jonathan jumps back into the conversation to change the subject. “Yeah, he’s really excited about coming. He can’t wait to see you all.”

“We’re excited to see him too, it’s been so long. FaceTime and Zoom can only do so much.” You say.

“True. So, how was shopping for your dresses?”

“It actually went pretty well. Turns out Robin has an eye for fashion when she puts her mind to it.” Nancy answers.

“What do the dresses look like?”

You begin to answer, “Well mine is-”

“NOPE. Keep your mouth shut!” Robin yells.

“The heck is up with you?” Eddie asks.

“It’s all a surprise. You’ll have to wait until Friday to see how we look.”

“But I’m not even going.”

“Then you’re missing out.” Robin says matter-of-faculty. You knew what she was doing and you hated it, but you also wanted to see what the outcome would be.

“Whatever, you guys have fun. I’ll be home if you change your mind.” He says to you, picking up his stuff and leaving. When he was getting up he unlocked his phone and pressed play on a song popping in his headphones, you caught a quick glimpse of it and your eyes went wide. After he took a few steps away, they all look at you confused.

“What?” You ask.

“Why did it look like your eyes were going to budge out of your sockets?” Jonathan asks, concerned if anything.

“Oh, nothing. I’m fine.”

“You look like you saw a ghost just now. What gives?”

“I said it’s nothing-”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, thank you though.”

Robin smirks. 

Prom Night approached a lot quicker then you expected. Senior Week flew by so quick you now found yourself at Nancy’s house with Robin getting ready. Peter Gabriel’s Your Eyes playing through the speakers in her room. You spent most of the morning at school getting your extra credit in with Mrs. K and other classmates. When 2pm hit the clock she dismissed and thanked you all for your hard work. Jonathan agreed to pick everyone up along with Argyle.

“I’m so tired from earlier I don’t think I’m going to make it through the night.” You say.

“Oh you’ll be fine. Once we all get there your energy will pick up.” Nancy says. You nod your head and continue working on your makeup.

“And that was Peter Gabriel’s Your Eyes on 102.7, hits from yesterday and today. I’m Michelle, your DJ for the next few hours. The all request zone is coming up, so call in or shoot us a text to get your fav songs on the air! I’ll be back after these messages.”

“Hm, that sounds fun. I’ll be right back.” Robin says as she exits the room.

“What does she mean?” Nancy asks.

“Beats me, maybe she’s going to the bathroom.” A few moments pass as Robin enters back into the room with a smile on her face, a few minutes pass until the DJ begins talking on the radio again.

“Alight everyone and we’re back. We had a few calls and texts coming in. I want to kick off our request zone with a message from a young lady named Robin! She called in for a message for a friend, quote ‘Please change your mind, you won’t regret it. She’s going to look stunning and gorgeous and you know you’re going to kick yourself for it.’ And with that, here’s her request ‘I Can Dream About You’ by Dan Hartman!” The song starts playing

“ROBIN WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?” You scream, dropping your eyeliner.

“Hey, you never know, Eddie could be listening. Plus, let’s flashback to yesterday shall we? You know damn well what you saw on his phone. He was listening to this song when he got up and you saw it on his lock screen, wasn’t he?” You stare at her. “Well?”

“Wait, is she for real?” Nanny questions putting down her hair supplies  down, now entertained.

“…Yes. He was listening to it.” You admit, looking down at the floor.

“SEE? I knew it. Fate, it’s going to happen. He’s showing up tonight.”

“No, he’s not. I know him better than you, he doesn’t listen to the radio that much. Mainly just his phone. There’s only one good rock station in this town and it’s rare he even listens to that.”

“Well I thought it was worth a shot. I guarantee he’ll come. I can feel it.” You just shake your head and continue with your makeup. “Anyhow, ladies. Let’s get glammed.”

After a few hours cooped up in Nancy’s bedroom, you all found yourselves taking photos in the Wheelers living room.

“You girls look so beautiful, so grown up!” Mrs. Wheeler wipes away a tear while clicking her photo button multiple times.

“Okay Mom, that’s enough.” Nancy states.

“Oh one more please?!” DING DONG.

Nancy whispers a small “thank god” as Mrs. Wheeler gets the door to greet Jonathan and Argyle.

“What up my Hawkins family?!” Argyle enters with arms wide open. You, Nancy and Robin all run to him and engulf him in the biggest hug.

“We’ve missed you! We’re so glad you came for this!” You say.

“I’m glad too! Jonathan gave me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

“Yeah yeah, you all look great by the way.” Jonathan bows to you all as Argyle follows along. Mrs. Wheeler insists on taking more photos together and you all agree because you can see she’s still so emotional.

“Okay, I’ll let you all go. You have fun, stay safe and text me updates please!” You all then give her a hug when you hear honking coming from outside the house.

“What the hell is that?” Ronin questions looking out the window. “Oh, no way.”

“Yeah, I came barring gifts my friends.” Argyle leads to the front door.

“COME ON SENIORS, WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE.” And there you see Steve, leaning up against a car.

“Oh you can’t just stay away from Hawkins even after you graduated can you Harrington?” You yell to him, walking out and meeting him.

“And miss all my friends going to their senior prom? Never, come here.” You give him a hug and look at the car. 

“Whose car?” Robin points to the shiny black car.

“Argyle rented it for you guys for the night, and I will be your chauffeur.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” Nancy says to Argyle.

“It’s no problemo, figured it can be my thank you to you all for the invite and for Jonathan letting me crash at his place so I didn’t have to stay at a hotel.”

“Look at the time, let’s get you guys to prom. I’m driving, so I’m playing DJ.” Steve opens the back door for everyone as you pile in and make your way towards Hawkins High.

Approaching the school was overwhelming. There were teachers, parents and cars everywhere. It took awhile for Steve to pull up to the entrance but you finally made it. After parking the car Steve turns around to face you all. “Okay kids, prom ends at midnight and I will be here on the dot to pick you up. No later than that okay?”

“Thanks Dad. See you then.” Robin says rolling her eyes, a specialty of her’s at this point. You all exit the car and make your way into the gymnasium. 

“Place looks great, our hard work paid off.” Jonathan states, looking around.

“You all did this?” Argyle asked in amazement.

“Well some of it yes.” You answer.

“Rad.” 

The night rolls on smoothly. You’re all horribly dancing to terrible TikTok hits and overplayed songs on the radio, but that’s not stopping you from having a good time. Although every time you would greet a fellow classmate, the majority asked where Eddie was. It hurt but you can’t say you didn’t try. You even tried to request a few songs to the DJ but he just looked at you like you had three heads. However when you requested Taylor Swift he was happy to oblige.

“I’m going to go get some water, anyone want any?” You yell over the music.

“No but we’ll meet you over by the tables, we need a break.” Robin says, pointing to where they’re going to be. You give her a thumbs up and head over to the water table, filling your cup and taking a huge gulp. Who knew dancing would take up this much energy.

“Hey there sonny!” Mrs. K comes on over standing next to you.

“Hi Mrs. K! You look beautiful.”

“As do you! How’s your night going?” Mrs. K seemed a little too upbeat and standing a bit too close. Smelling her breath you knew she definitely had a few to drink before arriving.

“It’s going great. We’re having a fun time.”

“Awesome! Hey, I meant to ask you all earlier. Where’s that Munson kid?” She looks around the dance-floor.

“He’s not coming. He had obligations set already.” 

“Ah, shame, I thought for sure he would be your date.” She playfully hit your arm raising her eyebrows.

“Yeah everyone seems to keep telling me that.” You take another sip of your water.

“Shame shame shame…” She begins to dance and sing, …”sHAME SHAME SHAAMEEE…”

“Here Mrs K,” you hand her a cup of water, “I’m going to go find my friends.” You quickly walk away and return to your group.

“What’s up with Mrs. K?” Jonathan asks.

“I think she may have had some drinks before coming in tonight.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Nancy laughs.

“Yeah I thought something was off about that lady. Is she always like that?” Argyle asks.

“YES.” You all answer in unison, laughing even harder. You all notice the DJ slowing the songs down, indicating it was time for some slow dancing to take place. You all look at eachother, shake your heads and sit on down. You start conversations about your senior year, how Argyle’s school year was back in California and small talk when you notice a familiar song starting to play.

 I Can Dream About You starts playing over large speakers.

“Oh my god, you have got to be kidding.” You say, shaking your head and placing it in your arms on the table.

“What?” Jonathan asks.

“Nothing, it’s this song playing.”

“What about the song?”

“Fate…” Robin says, looking behind you.

“What do you mean fate?” Jonathan was very confused.

“Fate for what?” Argyle was also very confused.

“Fate…” Nancy says.

“What is going on?! And how is the DJ playing this song right now?!” Nancy and Robin nod and point towards the opposite side of the room. You turn around to look and there standing across the way in a dark red button up, black pants and boots is Eddie.

“Holy shit…”

“FATE, I KNEW IT. GO GO GO.” Robin pushes you up. You straighten out your dress and begin to walk towards him. He begins to walk towards you and you meet in the middle of the dance-floor.

“Hey.” You speak first.

“Hey.” He answers.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Well, a little birdie told me you would look stunning and gorgeous and I just couldn’t pass up that opportunity now could I?” He takes your hand and spins you around to get a better look at you.

“Wait, you actually listened to the radio?”

“Glad I did this time.” Smiling he takes your hand, grabs your waist and you both begin swaying together to the music.

“I can assure you I didn’t put her up to it.”

“I believe you, Robin has balls.” You laugh and look back up at him.

“You look handsome by the way, I’m really glad you showed up.”

“Thanks, me too.” He says quietly. You both continue to dance together, soon enough leaning your head against his chest and listening to his heartbeat. You felt like you were on cloud nine, in a dream. Once the song faded out you separate but he pulls you into a hug, leaving a light kiss on the top of your head. You thought you were going to melt but kept it together.

“By the way, how did you get the DJ to play the song? I requested stuff earlier and he looked at me like I was crazy.”

“I may have slipped him a $20.”

“Eddie Munson you are something else.” You say. You grab his hand and lead him over to the table.

“You actually made it!” Robin gets up first pulling him into a hug followed by Nancy and then Jonathan and Argyle. 

“What made you change your mind?”

“Change of heart, that’s all. Plus it’s halfway over.” He shrugs. He wasn’t going to admit he heard the message on the radio, he didn’t want to give Robin the satisfaction.

“Are you surrrre that’s the only reason why? Huh Huh?!” Robin smirks. Now she’s having way too much fun.

“Hey, you guys did a great job by the way. Place looks awesome.” Eddie points around the room trying so hard to change the subject.

“Thanks, I think we did pretty good.” You say looking around as well.

“So, now what?”

“We dance some more. The night is young my friends!” Robin twirls and starts making her way back to the dance-floor.

“Actually it’s 11:15 so it’s almost time to go.” Argyle yells following her, as does Nancy and Jonathan.

“I was actually going to ask if I can steal you for the rest of the night after this is over.” You smile and look down at the floor. Again, cloud nine. Butterflies and all.

“Movie night?”

“Movie night.”

“COME ON LOVEBIRDS A FEW MORE SONGS PLEASE.” Robin yells, you shrug your shoulders grab his arm and pull him into the crowd against his will.

The stroke of midnight soon hit and everyone began to leave. You and your friends exit and find Steve leaning up against his car waiting just like earlier.

“Hey Munson, I didn’t know you were coming.” Steve says, shocked to see him.

“Yeah I didn’t think I was going to make it either but I did.” He says.

“Alright kids, where to? The diner, home, a party?”

“The diner please, I’m starving.” Argyle says.

“You’re always hungry Argyle.” Jonathan laughs getting in the car. Steve makes his way over to the drivers side.

“I’m going with Eddie, so I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You tell them.

“Okay, drive safe!” Everyone says their final goodbyes as you and Eddie walk over to his van. Ronin leaves you with a wink and pointed finger guns, as you flip her off in the process. 

The ride back was calm, as music quietly played in the background. As you approach the trailer, you see Wayne exiting the front door.

“Hey Mr. Munson.” You say walking up to him.

“How many times do I have to tell you, it’s Wayne?” He laughs pulling you into a hug.

“I can’t it’s too weird.”

“Well would you look at you. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“Did y’all have a good time?”

“Yes, yes we did. Glad it’s over.” Eddie answers walking over to you both.

“I’m glad to hear that. Well I’m off too work. You both have a goodnight, don’t have too much fun now…”

“Wayne come on…” Eddie sighs walking over and unlocking the door.

“It was good to see you Mr. Munson. Have a safe night at work.”

“Thank you sweetheart.” He nods his head and leaves. You follow behind Eddie and enter.

“I’m going to get you a change of clothes.” 

“Great thanks.” You sit on the couch and take off your shoes, thankful you no longer have to wear them any longer. Eddie walks back out with some clothes in his hand.

“Here you go, the bathroom is all yours. I’m going to get changed in my bedroom.”

“Thanks.” You make your way into the bathroom, only to realize you need help with the zipper. “Shit. Hey Eddie?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah I just need help with my zipper.” You meet him outside the door, he comes out in pj pants and no shirt. You immediately turn around to so your eyes don’t wonder. “It’s uh-”

“I see it don’t worry.” You feel him slowly taking the zipper down your side, holding onto the dress so it doesn’t fall in the process. Your breath starts to pick up and you have to talk yourself into slowing down. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times but this feels different. “Okay, you’re good.”

“Thanks again-” You start to walk back into the bathroom when you feel his hand catch your arm.

“Wait.” You turn around looking up at him. And before you could ask what he wanted, your lips crash. You’re shocked, excited and turned on all at the same time. This is something you’ve wanted, craved for a few years now. Constantly suppressing your feelings because you thought you were crazy, but this, you couldn’t even believe it. Without thinking you wrap your arms around his neck and move in closer, you swore time stopped. As you both part slowly, your dress falls to the floor. “Oh shit!” Eddie covers his eyes and turns around. “I promise I didn’t see anything.” You laugh and bring the dress back up covering yourself again.

“It’s okay. Um, I’m going to get changed now.”

“Yeah you do that I’ll find a movie.” You head back into the bathroom, lock the door and take the deep breath you were holding in. Replaying the moment in your head and doing a tiny happy dance in the process. Eddie gave you pair of pj pants as well with an old Iron Maiden shirt. You lay your dress over the tub and find some makeup remover in the cabinet. You knew Eddie sometimes wore a bit of eyeliner when he played his shows with Corroded Coffin, sometimes you even helped him out with his own fear of poking his eye. After taking off your makeup and cleaning yourself up you headed back out to the living room to find Eddie on his couch scrolling through Netflix. 

You slowly approach him. “Eddie?” He looks up at you. “I really don’t want to watch a movie.”

“I was hoping you would say that.” He gets up and practically runs to you once again connecting his lips to yours, quickly picking you up as you wrap your legs around his waist. You part from his and lean your head against his. “What took us so long?”

“Stupid teenager hormones? Peer pressure? Finally realizing your true feelings?” You answer.

“Sounds about right.” He laughs, kissing you again and walking you both back to his bedroom without breaking the kiss.

The morning sun was peaking through the window. You squint your eyes and look over at the clock on the nightstand. 8:25am. You rub your eyes and start to get up when you feel some extra weight on you. Eddie’s arm was wrapped around your waist, not giving you enough movement. You smile to yourself and bring yourself closer to him, only to feel him wiggle.

“What time is it?” He asked in a sleepy voice.

“Almost 8:30.”

“Fuck, that’s so early.” He responds pulling you closer.

“It’s really not.” You reply laughing at how sleepy he is. You reach over to your phone on the nightstand and see some text messages.

Robin-Are you awake yet??

Please tell me you’re awake I know it’s 8am but plz.

HHHEEELLLOOOO?

PLZ ANSWER IM DYING TO HEAR WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’m awake NOW. 

(unsent) Just please don’t call-

Too late, Robin started a FaceTime call.

“Buckley?” Eddie asks.

“Yup. Can I pick up?”

“Might as well. She should be the first to know.”

“Know what?”

“That we’re kinda official now?” You blush and pick up the phone trying to hide Eddie from sight.

“Hey Robin.”

“HOLY SHIT I’M DYING WHAT HAPPENED?”

“Robin calm down it’s still early and-”

“And we’re just waking up together in the same bed. Can we please call you back after we have some coffee?” Eddie comes into frame. Robin has the biggest grin and smile on her face.

“FINALLY! GUYS THEY DID IT. THEY’RE FINALLY-” Eddie reaches over and presses the hang up button.

“Hey-”

“Hey nothing. I want you to myself this morning.” He flips you so you’re facing him and brings you into a kiss. 

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” 

“That we’re official.”

“Well I think the proper way would be to take you on a few dates, then ask you to be my girlfriend then sleep together but considering we went out of order I just kind of figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“No no, not at all.” You laugh bringing him back down for another kiss. “But I will take you up on that coffee.”

“Will do.” He gets up and starts to head out to the kitchen.

“WAIT.”

“What what?”

“Put some clothes on.” You say throwing him his pants from the night before.

“Yeah that would have been awkward when Wayne gets home.” He slips them on. “By the way, my alarm is going to go off at 8:45 so you can just hit the button.”

“Okay.” You get up yourself and find the clothes he gave you on the floor. As you’re getting dressed, Eddie’s alarm goes off with the radio going off. Right when the song begins to play, Eddie runs back into his bedroom and you just stare at the clock.

🎶 I don’t understand it, can’t keep my mind off loving you  🎶 

“You have got to be kidding.” You whisper.

“I uh, I think we have a song.” Eddie says, looking over at you.

“Yeah, yeah I think we do.” 

Thank You again for reading! Tumblr is still very new to me in regards to writing and posting stories so I tried my best to follow formats from my fav authors I've read over the last few months! Hopefully It wasn't too bad of a read! :) ❤️

[uncouth-the-fifth]

pythia, a supernatural rewrite. phantom traveler, p.3

read it on ao3.

words: 14k notes: hello!!! on the wings of an absolute ARMY of betas, here is a fresh new chapter for you!! since the last one was a little short i took the time to really flesh this one out. I'm a shy idiot who is SO bad at responding, but i see your comments and they mean the world to me. i literally have a folder on my computer full of the sweet words this fic has been given, and i think i've re-read the comments in that folder at least a million times over by now. ty so much for reading, and i hope you enjoy!! bloody mary is next! a very special thank you to my beta readers, bear, M, venice, feeb, and daff, who easily made this my best chapter yet. thank you specifically for keeping me coherent and sane lol <3

PITTSBURG, PENNSYLVANIA - Dec. 4th.

You don’t have to be psychic to know precisely what your mother is going to say when she answers the phone. She’ll pick up on the fourth ring with an occupied, scathing drawl and say, Look who finally has cell service.

Alright. So you’re not the best, most communicative daughter in the world. You call when you can, you honestly do, but there’s not exactly loads of emotional bandwidth to spare on the road. Peeling off all the layers of case anxiety and Winchester grief takes a while, dammit!

Maybe you’d feel less guilty if you vented to Sam or Dean, but it’s kind of lousy to bitch about Mom-stuff to, uh. Yeah. The boys. You could use a simple, uncomplicated statement like, talking to my Mom reminds me of how much of a disappointment I must be to her, and Dean would hear matricide instead. Sam’s blank, uncomprehending look wouldn’t be much better. Looks like you’re alone on this one.

When there’s a natural break in the day’s long research-fest the three of you are riding, you slip away, pace beside the Impala for a while, then finally bite the bullet and call her. Cars whisk through the slurry of snow on the road. Your phone charms rattle in the icy breeze. One ring, two rings… She knew you were going to call, she could sense it, but of course she has to torture you… three rings, four.

“I didn’t know cell service was so hard to come by in Pittsburg,” Beth greets you, sounding preoccupied. Damn, do you know her well or what?

“Hey, Mom,” you sigh. The wind is loud, so you pull your phone further down your face and try to come up with an excuse that is even halfway reasonable. “Sorry I haven’t called. It’s been ages since I’ve been around the boys, and I guess I get a little caught up with them sometimes.”

This is objectively true. She used to have a rule about you getting your homework done before they came over, purely because you forgot about everything and anything else the second Sam and Dean entered the house.

“Forget those losers. You’re my baby, I love you most,” Beth gushes, and you understand that this is her way of saying that you’re forgiven. Both of you have fallen victim to the Winchester spell before, so she can’t exactly blame you.

You’re a little embarrassed by her mushiness, but a relieved, bubbly laugh jumps out of you. “Alright, consider them forgotten. Now… I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m gonna ask you a question, and I need you not to freak out or overthink it, kay?”

Beth snorts. “You mean my two jobs as a mother? Go ahead, shoot.”

This is not the kind of question that you just “shoot,” though. It takes you a moment to string together how you’re going to ask this, and of course, you’re nothing but graceful and delicate about it. “...What do you know about demons?”

Your mother doesn’t say anything for a long, yawning second. Still, you can sense her rising swarm of questions and outrage all the way from Pennsylvania, and you try to stop her onslaught before it starts. “Hey! No questions! Just answers. I promise I would tell you if this was outrageously dangerous.”

“Then you’ve already broken your promise,” Beth utters, slipping into her Sage Grandmaster Psychic voice. Just hearing it makes you deflate. She predicts, “...Let me guess. You’ve felt nauseous. Suffocated. Hungry, but everything you eat comes right back up again.”

You toe a chunk of ice on the asphalt with your boot, grumbling, “...Yeah.”

“Then you’re lucky,” she reveals, her words still ringing with the same crystal ball clarity from your childhood. “That means you haven’t come into direct contact with it yet. I’d hope you never would, but… you are your father’s daughter…”

You know your mom. You know that’s just her way of warning you about the kind of danger you’re in, here, but all the comment does is bolster your resolve. Damn right. You are his motherfuckin’ daughter.

“Tell me,” you push.

Beth sighs through her nose. There’s a squeak on the other line, and you can imagine her at home, dropping heavily into the massive, millennia-old armchair she always took her readings in.

“Demons… well, I won’t explain to you what you can already guess. They’re unlike most legends we know of, because everything that’s written about them is utterly true. Most spirits that walk the natural earth are here to feed—vampires, werewolves—or to take care of unfinished business. But demons… they come to earth to steal, kill, and destroy.”

Welp. Your mother is truly a pillar of optimism. You’d been hoping she’d say something along the lines of, don’t worry, sweetheart, they’re just really messed up ghosts. Instead of, y’know. The most evil creatures man encountered in the bible. Bible, capital B. An uncomfortable, existential shiver rolls down your spine. Now this was something you could bitch to Dean and Sam about.

You’d grown up surrounded by the idea of demons. Even before you’d fully understood that monsters were real, sometimes you’d slip into your mother’s reading parlor while she was gone and play a game with the strange, segmented star pattern on the giant worn-smooth carpet. Don’t hop on any of the lines! Only step in the points of the star! Or, jump from sigil to sigil!

The one time you’d gotten carried away and played for too long, your mother had appeared through the beaded curtain with a stiff frown on her face. Don’t play on the devil’s trap. It’s not a toy.

There was the fraying devil’s trap in your mother’s parlor room, which was one of the hundreds of sigils burned into your mind at a young age. You’d shaken hands with demon hunters before. Most of the rituals your family practiced were in Latin; and the list went on and on into oblivion. You’d always known demons existed, but as you pace the parking lot and take in what Beth is telling you, the ramifications start to stack. Demons. Actual, literal demons. The thing that took down flight 2485—the suffocating, unimaginable presence from your vision—was a real-life demon. When you’d stood in the skeletal remains of the plane and reached out with your Gift, you’d been sensing the lingering presence of a fucking creation of Lucifer. What the actual fuck.

In a strange, backward way, you’re kind of relieved. Anyone would be fainting all over the place in the presence of an actual, real-life demon. Especially somebody like you, with all their senses turned up to 100. It makes sense that you were having such intense reactions before.

What the fucking fuck. You’re suddenly grateful to be on the phone with your mom.

You wandered toward the Impala, (checked first that you weren’t wearing the kind of jeans with the little studs that would scrape the paint), then leaned against it. “...Um. Okay. That’s just… awesome… How do they get… up here, then?”

“I’m not sure,” your mother hums, thinking. “Your great-great-aunt Miriam wrote in her records that they find their way top-side on their own. Bugs through cracks, that sort of thing. Apparently, there used to be a whole lot more of em’—in Miriam’s day it was a Proctor’s job to shove them back where they belonged, but… I dunno.” Beth helpfully jokes, “Maybe we got most of them.”

You huff out a laugh, but it’s not the most sincere. “Maybe we did,” you cough. “But, um, do we have any Proctor family secrets that could help me out here? Did great-great-aunt Miriam have a trunk somewhere full of demon-killing grenades or something?”

Beth smirks. “Great-great-aunt Miriam turned the house into a brothel and carved terrifying sigils in all the ceilings. That’s all we got from her.”

Of course. How could you possibly forget? “Oh, huh. I was wondering why we have old chains and whips in the basement. That fills in a lot more for me, thank you.”

Your mom barks out a laugh at your joke, which gets you laughing too. The sound trails off. There’s that funny pause where you both remember what you just said, then start giggling all over again—and man, does it feel good to just have a moment with your mom. The boys both have an unforgiving radar for “bonding,” and the second they realize that you love them and they’re your friends, they creep right back into their shells. Neither of them were very good at absorbing that sort of thing.

Your mom is just as skilled at spoiling the moment.

“But, seriously…” She stresses. “Please be careful. Avoid contact with these things at all costs, especially with your Gift. It’s made to find the truth, and demons are made of lies. Not a good mix. They’ll rip into your mind… take you apart if they have to. This is a lot more hands-on than you should ever be with your Gift, ____.”

“...Right,” you say through your teeth.

This is the part where you start awkwardly shoving in a goodbye without coming across as an asshole. You open your mouth, about to say something stiff and unsure, when you sense a spike of alarm ripple out from where the boys are still researching in your motel room.

Phone call forgotten, you jolt off the Impala and whip towards the door. Not a second later, Dean’s slipping out onto the stoop and sweeping the parking lot with a calm, guarded stare. He doesn’t look at you—just gestures you inside, holding the door open. Even from the parking lot, you can make out the insane amount of notes and papers Sam has coated your motel room with.

“Jerry just called,” Dean utters. “The surviving pilot from 2485? Chuck Lambert? …He just went down in a plane crash.”

You snap your phone shut and follow him inside.

-

The three of you head to the site of the next crash as fast as you can. But first, you have the pleasure of watching the boys play Winchester Telepathy when you insist on coming along. They’re still worried. You would be too, in their position. (In fact, if the roles were reversed, you’d probably chain Sam to a radiator and call it a day.) But Chuck went down in a twin plane, not a massive, two-hundred-person graveyard, so your Gift should have the legs to handle it.

…And knowing what you’re dealing with has steeled your confidence. You weren’t slashing at the dark anymore, even if what was in the dark was, um. Proof that hell exists. After days of being totally screwed over by this thing, you finally had even the slightest leg up on what was going on. You were going to take that win and run with it.

Chuck’s twin plane was hardly a twin anymore; both the engines had been shredded, the white body of the cockpit twisted like a wrung-out washcloth. The plane had dove so hard into the farmland that the snow around it had melted. You still kind of felt like tossing your lunch, but more out of sympathy than psychic backlash. People had been in that plane. The thought made you taste bile.

Sam and Dean only hover a little bit (a lot) while you open your Gift to the wreckage. You take your glove off with your teeth and touch your right hand to the ashen, snow-soaked remains of the pilot’s chair… and there it was again, the leeching, seeping, violating presence from the vision that’d brought all of you to Pittsburg. A demon.

Your Gift wrings out another scraggly, disconnected vision for you. Chuck was beyond anxious to get back in the saddle after 2485. The co-pilot, Lou, had pep-talked him like any good friend would, reassuring him that the flight would go smoothly. After that, everything—gassing up the engine, takeoff, and the brutal, horrific crash—was blotted with poison ink. Every time you tried to steer towards Chuck with your senses, it was as if the strip of film playing your vision had been burned away. His face had been scratched out of every frame. He had become something else; something terribly familiar.

The research Sam had compiled began to link with what you’re seeing. You could feel, even through the leftover wisp of the demon’s presence on the plane, that it had done this many times before.

You jolted to your feet, scrubbing the palm with the eye tattoo off on your slacks. Dean and Sam reeled back, since they’d both been looming an inch behind you as you worked.

“What’s the verdict, doc?” Dean said, bracing himself.

You turn from the wreckage and bee-line straight for the road, eager to avoid a repeat of last time. The boys follow your lead. They fall into step on either side of you, and for once you feel like the specialist Sam always said you were, complete with stern-faced bodyguards.

“Full-on Pazuzu, just like last time,” you confirm, cursing. You shove your glove back on and stomp through the snow. “I-I get it now. God, it feels so fucking obvious. It’s—it’s playing. It finds these disasters, or it makes them, and then it picks off all the survivors one by one. Chuck Lambert, George Phelps. It possessed them. Like some sort of twisted cosmic-order thing.”

Sam pulls a face. “Final Destination style?”

“Minus the hot girls and the tanning beds, apparently,” Dean pouts.

“It’s trying to finish them off, boys,” you say, swallowing hard. “That’s something we can work with. If it’s only using disasters to do the job, then…”

“...then we need to see if any of the survivors are flying soon,” Sam realizes, finishing your thought.

The second the Impala’s on the road again, Sam is fishing out the passenger manifests from the first flight and chasing down any phone numbers he can find. There is a part of every hunt where your run is forced to become a sprint, and this is that turn-over moment, tensions ramping high. What once was seven people is now five.

As Dean hauls ass back to Pittsburg, you and Sam get to calling. You thank the Mother Goddess above for shitty, awful customer service, because posing as some lousy Delta Airlines representative has Dennis Holloway sitting in seat 21A and Kathleen Willard (seat 25E) swearing off flying for good. Sam uses a similar tactic on Blaine Sanderson (seat 14D). The two of you take the safe bet that the parents of Ava Struder (seat 1C), an unaccompanied minor, aren’t fucking idiots dumping their kid on another flight the second she survives one. That leaves you with Amanda Walker. A flight attendant on 2485… because of course, this job can never be easy.

Sam tries her phone. While it rings, you cross your fingers and hope that she has quit her job and started a new life as a dedicated couch potato. Sam’s forced to leave a message. He snaps his flip phone shut with a curse and throws it into the footwell, where it clatters against his boots.

You curl a cold hand around Sam’s shoulder, soothing, “Gimme the list, baby. I’ll try her emergency contact, at least find out where she is.”

Sam sulkily passes it to you, never once shifting under your hand. You do get a small, grateful look from him over his shoulder, and the urgency and anxiety there makes your gut twist. It would be more than easy to comfort him, to stroke your fingers through his hair, to rub his collar and tell him everything’s going to be fine.

But you’re a shit liar, so you open up your phone and make the next call. Sam’s lingering gaze ducks back down into his lap.

-

Of course, your luck continues to flourish. Amanda doesn’t answer her phone. But her sister does, and she informs you that Amanda, being a flight attendant, is in fucking Indianapolis for a flight. Indianapolis. As in, a good five-hour drive from Philly—and in the complete opposite direction of where you were going. Dean barely waits until the road is wide enough to turn the Impala around. The u-ey he hits sends you, and all your stuff, careening from the right end of the bench all the way to the left.

The drive is not fast. Staring ahead and silently revving yourself up can only waste so much time, so you pull out the mini sewing kit from under the seat and do your best to patch a rip in Dean’s jeans, struggling to thread the needle even more than usual. You feel a bit like a bad hunter distracting yourself from what’s ahead, but just one of you stuffing the car with anxious brooding is enough. Sam passes back a sudoku booklet for you and then goes straight back to his thousand-yard stare.

He used to be excellent when things came down to the wire like this. After years spent in empty motel rooms, counting pennies and waiting for John and Dean to come home, Sam’s patience was unimaginable. But losing Jess… had tilted his axis. These last few hunts, you’ve noticed how crazed he gets on the last couple steps to the finish line—when none of you are sure if there’ll be anybody to save. It happens. But you’re scared of what another round of it could do to Sam, even with a stranger like Amanda; he cared so much…

Dean isn’t happy, either, but he at least has something to do. He alternates between playing brain-melting Metallica or forgetting to reload the tape, so the drive is a strange mix of music you can feel in your eardrums and silence that’s just as loud. The first piece of levity you get is thirty straight minutes of Dean over-explaining the album to you. And, thank god you ask, because Dean rattling on about the “bass and drums feeding off each other” and the “musical integrity of a locked-in rhythms section” bring Sam out of his trance. He pries his eyes away from the rolling fields of snow, scrunches up his face, and sighs, “Can we at least listen to ‘...And Justice for All?’”

You’re an excellent tactician, so you use this opening to nudge them both toward the most surefire argument starter in the Winchester handbook: What’s the best album of all time? It would’ve been harder to lure flies into honey. Dean argues more with himself than he argues with the two of you, dancing indecisively between Zeppelin II, Dark Side of the Moon, and at least twenty other albums that you are vaguely aware exist. Sam outlines that there is a difference between someone’s favorite album (Californication in Sam’s case) and the best album objectively by sales (Thriller).

All three of you play into the argument more than usual. Guess you’re not the only one desperate to think about something other than the two hundred other people who might die tonight. By the time there’s enough of a break in the conversation for you to throw your hat into the distraction-ring, you’re thirty minutes from the Indianapolis International Airport.

“Both of you are wrong,” you decide. “There’s only one reasonable answer to that question, and it’s Rumours.”

Dean audibly grumbles, and when the Impala jams to a stop in front of a red light, he dramatically points at you in the rear-view mirrors and declares: “You are obligated by hippie, witchy-girl bullshit to love that album, Proctor. And it’s good, but it’s not the best. It’s mostly…” he flashes you a mean, big-brother smile, “girly music.”

You know you’re right, so his comment rolls right over you. Cooly, you remind him, “Nuh-uh. Sam loves Fleetwood Mac, too.”

You’d figured that was a good counter-point, since Sam was hardly girly. The hand he was using to keep his notepad on his knee was all kinds of veiny and calloused, and on top of being taller than Dean, he was a lot more comfortable with his masculinity. He didn’t have mile-long lashes or glazed donut cheekbones, either.

Sam hums in agreement, like you knew he would; the two of you listened to Go Your Own Way and The Chain endlessly before he left for school. Sometimes he’d even dance around the attic at home with you.

Dean side-eyes his brother, then barks out a hearty laugh. “Case in point.”

Sam elects to pretend he didn’t hear that, and instead turns around to talk straight to you: “I mean, the end of Silver Springs alone…”

…Maybe if Dean listened to more “girly music,” he’d have more women melting over him the way you melt when Sam says that. Even though you’ve gotten used to having him in front of you again, there are moments like these where you’re stunned by how similar the two of you still are. Dreams would play in your attic and Sam would already be offering you his hands, gangly and shy and bright red for you and only you…

You listened to Silver Springs a lot after Sam started dating Jessica.

INDIANAPOLIS INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - Dec. 4th, night.

All three of you must’ve been hyper-planning what to do the second the Impala parked, because you fan out as soon as Dean jams the break.

Sam uncaps the travel-sized hand sanitizer from your purse and empties it out onto the pavement. You’re a little sad to say goodbye to pumpkin cupcake, but then he starts pouring as much holy water as he can into the teeny bottle, and you’re reminded how clever he is. When Dean gives him a weird look, Sam explains, “3.4 ounces or less per liquid item, dude.”

“Shit,” Dean curses. Right. Travel size restrictions. That cuts your only physical weapon against the demon in half—or into a fucking fifth, I guess. But it’s something. “At least he’ll fuckin’ smell good when we send him to hell. Great.”

You give Sam the marshmallow pumpkin latte sanitizer, too. You’re going to look painfully suspicious walking into an airport with nothing but hand sanitizer and an occult journal, but there’s nothing you can do. There’s no time to check bags or trudge through security lines. Hopefully you won’t have to board, but knowing your luck…

You’re about to go peeling out of the parking lot at top speed, when you turn your boot and feel the warm piece of metal pressed against your ankle. Shit. “God, this is stupid,” you curse, and drop onto a knee. You lose the pocket knife in your boot, then dig around for the loose rock salt shells rolling around in your pockets. There’s a visible pout on your face when you abandon your iron knuckles. Anything that’d be caught by security or picked up on a metal detector goes straight into the trunk.

When you pull your butterfly knife out of your bra, Sam is suddenly very interested in the color of the sky.

The boys follow suit. By the time you’re through the doors and among the harried, criss-crossing crowd of travelers, you’ve lost ten pounds in weapons each. Dean grumbles the whole way about feeling naked. Everything in the airport is overstimulating, even at this time of night. The long, endless squares of glass looking out over the runway reflect the too-bright lights in big glossy spots, and the air is flooded with a constant stream of intercom updates and civilian chatter. You duck and weave all the way to the departure schedule, which is just the right font size to make you anxious.

Sam scans the chart. “They’re boarding in thirty minutes.”

Shit. You wrack your mind for something that could coax Amanda off her flight. But the gears in your head are suddenly muddy, and Dean’s faster than you, anyway. His eyes dart around the floor of the airport. “Okay… we still got some cards to play. We need to find a phone.”

Sam and Dean dart off like twin bomb-sniffing dogs. You move to follow them, but something tethers you in place. The buzzing, bustling commotion in the air pitches up, and then your ears are ringing, and your whole body is stinging with the ugly leeching feelings from before. The demon. It’s close.

You blindly walk in the direction your internal Winchester compass gives you, and just when Dean’s about to take a courtesy phone off its hook, your body extracts the phone from his hand on autopilot. For a brief flickering moment, you’re not yourself. Your powers talk through you.

Your Gift foresees, “That won’t work. Your only option is to board the plane.”

The boys exchange an unsettled look. For a second you’re confused why they’re giving you their Freaked Out faces, then you feel the hollow plastic of the phone in your hand, and you realize you’re a whole twenty feet from where you started. Man… you hate the whole psychic-possession thing. Just for fun, your Gift loves to take over and course-correct you when it thinks you’re being stupid. You drop the phone back on its hook with a heavy click. It takes Dean a second to answer, and he’s still giving you that look. After a long pause, he knocks up his chin and not-so-happily mutters, “...Uh, okay.”

Sam, at least, has learned to roll with your weird psychic bullshit. His voice is soft with conviction. “Fine. Plan B, then. We gotta get on that plane.”

You run your palms down your face, then steel yourself. There’s no other way, and no time to second-guess. Even your Gift has decided it’s your best plan. “Okay. Fuck it.”

The usual authority in Dean’s voice hikes up with a note of panic. “Uh, woah. Let’s just hold on a second–”

“Dean,” you wince, and your hands drop heavily at your sides. “We gotta. I’m sorry.”

Sam, per usual, reads Dean’s hesitance as something else. “That plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board. And if we’re right, it’s gonna crash. We have to–”

You watch as they have their usual back and forth; Sam, eager to throw himself at this, and Dean gnawing on the inside of his cheek. It’s easy for you to sense the steam of real, nail-biting terror radiating off your best friend. You feel Dean’s fear all the time–and even then it’s hard for you to picture him being afraid of much of anything, much less planes. It’s even harder for Sam to look past his little brother glasses.

“...Flying?” Sam puts it together. His voice is understanding, but super confused. “You’re joking, right?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” Dean flails. He fists his hands as he talks, swaying back and forth to try and work up the nerve. He glances at you, the only other witness to his weakness, just once. “Why do you think I fuckin’ drive everywhere, Sam?”

Sam is genuinely stunned. Slapped-in-the-face stunned. But he takes it in stride, and, also glancing at you only once, he blurts out: “Alright. Uh, I’ll go.”

The anticipation of boarding the flight is making your skin prickle with anxiety, and you can’t help but inch back toward the ticket counter as they talk. But when Sam says this, without question or complaint, you’re instantly stepping up to his side and demanding, “Then I’m going with you.”

You brace yourself to shut down the argument you know is coming, but this Sam continues to be different from the guy you knew four years ago. This answer is just as easy for him, too. “Okay.”

Not, you’re staying here, or even, I won’t let you risk yourself like this. Just a plain and simple, okay. It bugs you. You don’t even have time to dwell on it, though, because Sam’s blatant courage tugs Dean over his fear.

“Man…” Dean utters, face twisted with nervousness. He gives in with a helpless scrunch of his shoulders, and taking that as permission, Sam twists around to buy your tickets not two seconds later.

You both watch him rush off, neither of you over the moon about this situation. Dean’s so anxious that his hands are clammy, and you can tell because he clutches at the sleeve of your jacket like a little kid. He knocks his forehead down on your shoulder with a groan, and your palm automatically loops around to give his back a soothing rub.

“This is fucking… awesome,” Dean gripes. “No guns. Can’t even bring a damn bottle of holy water. Is there some kind of psychic Xanax you can give me?”

Maybe some of your Gift drains into your voice when you promise, “We won’t have to worry about that. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Dean doesn’t make his Freaked Out face this time. He does, however, bump his forehead against your shoulder again, and sink into your touch with a rough sigh.

FLIGHT 424 - Dec. 4th.

You’d felt bad for Dean the whole time he’d struggled to get on the plane. Now, you kind of felt like choking him with your bare hands.

So many people crammed into one space was enough to flatten your Gift with the weight. Adding Dean to the mix, shoved shoulder-to-shoulder against you with his jitters ramped up to eleven, made you feel like picking your brain out with a fork. Your Gift ping-ponged between Dean and Sam, making you bounce between chattering your teeth with fear and thinking things like, wow, I just love the Dewey decimal system.

Maybe it was a good thing. You’d much rather be in one of their heads than yours.

All day, you’d done a pretty good job not obsessing over the things your mom had said over the phone. It was hard with so much time to marinate in the car, but the massive weight of the existence of demons only slammed on top of you once or twice. Boarding had managed to keep you occupied, but then the colossal body of the plane had shuddered and heaved its weight off the tarmac, leaving all chances for escape behind on the ground.

A part of you was resigned to it; it is a simple fact of your life that evil things are real. So what’s one more, right? But at the same time, you thought about the cross Sam wore under his shirt… you thought about being one of those things, being “made of lies,” like Mom had said. That, too, had been gnawing at you—what had she seen to learn all that? How did she know that a demon would “tear into your mind?” The Vague Psychic Thing is fun, until you’re on the receiving end.

“Can you sense who it’s possessing?” Sam’s smooth, calculating voice interrupted your thoughts.

…Oh, right. You’d gotten so swept up in your own head, no doubt influenced by Dean’s incessant foot-tapping, that you’d totally forgotten to scan the plane. Tilting away from Dean and his panic, you subconsciously shifted toward eerily calm, level-headed Sam. Just catching a wisp of the clean cologne he wears cools you down a little bit. Okay. No more freaking out—it’s game time.

You’d hoped that the white noise of the flight would settle your nerves, but the air tasted painfully sterile, dry, and cottony against the back of your throat. Everything felt like cold metal touching an open nerve. If the demon’s influence wasn’t making your powers touchy, then the woman across the aisle definitely was, oozing with homesickness as she watched Indianapolis shrink far below—or maybe it was the guy two rows back, replaying an argument again and again in his head—or maybe the other two hundred fucking people stuffing the plane with their boredom and their tiredness.

You push your knee into Sam’s. He pushes back.

After a tense beat, you whisper to him over the chatter of passengers, “Too many people. There’s no way I can narrow it down to one person—not unless they’re right in front of me.” Sam’s gaze turns expectantly to Dean, who’s still in full-on dissociation mode. He’d spent the whole boarding process humming tracks from St. Anger, and you knew he was really going through it, purely because he’d stopped and restarted Some Kind of Monster three different times now. Poor guy.

One of the things that made the three of you such a natural team was your ability to rotate leadership. In moments like these, with Dean way too wigged out to take charge, you’d usually step into his shoes without much trouble. But Sam has fielded your fainting spells and panic attacks all week, so he’s already got a pep-talk prepared for the two of you.

“...Okay.” Sam checks his watch. His voice still has that touch of classic Sam softness, probably because he knows how hard this is going to sound: “Stay focused. We got thirty-two minutes and counting to track this thing down, figure out who it’s possessing, and perform a full-on exorcism.” You’re about to make a comment about how blissfully easy he makes things seem, but Dean beats you to it. He snipes, “Yeah, on a crowded plane. That’s gonna be easy.”

You snap one of your bracelets against your wrist a few times, thinking. “Who would it want to possess?”

This gets Dean’s head in the game. Easily, he recites: “It’s usually somebody with some sort’a weakness, y’know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction or emotional distress.”

As he explains this, you unlatch Dean’s claws from their death-grip on your arm and give the top of his hand a little soothing pat. Your gaze remains fixed on the pattern of the seat in front of you. “For a regular demon, maybe. This thing might not even need a chink. It wants maximum damage here—so maybe it’d go for the pilot?”

This is not a soothing thought. Checking his watch again, Sam suggests, “Or Amanda… Surviving a crash like that? I’d be pretty messed up if I was her. We should check both.”

You’re happy to spend the little time you have left wisely, so you’re quick to push out of your seat and get moving. Dean puts on a brave face and follows your lead. There are only two ends of the plane to check—this thing can’t hide forever. Just when you start to do an awkward side-shuffle to nudge Dean out into the aisle with your hip, the whole plane thrashes top to bottom, and there he goes, dropping like a rock back into his seat. His spike of panic is so genuine that you end up dropping with him.

“Come on!” Dean hisses through his teeth. “That can’t be normal!”

You and Sam immediately get to shushing and soothing him, and suddenly you understand how married couples feel when their kid starts crying on a flight. Shifty eyes in other seats pretend they’re not glaring at you. Summoning as much strength as you can to share with him, you drop a hand on Dean’s shoulder and order: “Breathe, dude. You’re okay.”

“I’m not fuckin’ four,” Dean whisper-shouts, sulking flat back into his seat.

“She’s right,” Sam whispers back. Should it be worrying you how much he’s been agreeing with you lately? Stern, he says, “Listen—if you’re panicked, you’re wide open to possession. So you need to calm yourself down. Right now.”

A weird part of you is grateful that Dean is having a rough go of it, because it’s giving you something to focus on. You’re usually pretty good with planes. But for a minute there, when the turbulence had hit, your mind had defaulted to oh shit, this is real, we’re all going to die. A slideshow of the last crash had blitzed through your thoughts. Thoughts that had nothing to do with the anxiety you were picking up from Dean.

You know you despise it when Dean uses his Parent Voice on you, so you try not to use it on him when you urge, “C’mon. I think Amanda’s in the back of the plane. I’ll check up front.”

Dean gives an unconvinced, “I’ll go talk to her,” then makes grabby hands at Sam’s pockets, “pass me one of the hand-sanitizers. Fuckin’ uh, pumpkin latte—don’t gimme that face, _____, not all of us can tell with just a look. What if it’s in her?”

“It’s a bit more than a look—” you begin to clarify, but Sam stops your back and forth with a shake of his head. He pulls out the little orange plastic container of your pumpkin cupcake holy water and passes it to Dean.

“We should try to conserve what we got,” he warns, passing you the only other weapon against the demon (marshmallow pumpkin latte). “Go more subtle—if she’s possessed, she’ll flinch at the name of god.”

Now that you’re running out of both time and options, the second Dean unbuckles his seatbelt and steps out into the aisle on coltish legs, you take the opening and bolt out of your cramped middle seat. Anything you can do to get closer to finding this thing will make you feel loads better.

You start down the aisle. As the chatter of the boys fades into the all-encompassing thrum of the plane behind you, you take slow unhurried steps past each row of seats, soaking up what you can get. A girl listens to music in her headphones. A businessman clicks away at his laptop. Each of them you comb over with your powers, and each pass feels like scooping your hand into a bowl of tacks and waiting to get stabbed.

They’ll rip into your mind… take you apart if they have to, Mom had said. You waited for that moment, steeling your nerves the closer you came to the cockpit. If the demon’s on this side of the plane, and it sensed you, would it immediately press into your mind? Would just being near you snap its presence to you like a magnet? You didn’t like the mental feeling that gave you; the stark secret-seeking white of your Gift clashing with the black choking smoke that’d been chasing you all week. When you spoke to a spirit through your Gift, it felt like you were touching fingertips through a curtain. Would it be like that? Would this demon press its claws through the veil and dig around for something to tear, to grab?

The other flight attendant on board pushes past you with her cart, leaving no barrier between you and the cockpit. Behind you, bobbing in a sea of blurry people, your Gift could distinctly make out Sam (practicing the exorcism) and Dean (talking to Amanda). You’re just a few paces from the front exit of the plane when a man emerges from the bathroom cabin, and—

He twists to meet eyes with you. Expecting you.

You’re flashed a clever, haunting smile, then—a set of glossy void-black eyes.

You wait for it. And in its own way, the presence of the demon does overpower you, bringing the heavy-as-the-sky, parasitic feeling from your visions into the real world. For a long ringing moment, you are blasted with dark leeching power hot enough to singe the entire front of your body—like a nuclear bomb had dropped down just a few steps from you. It is spidery and vicious and knowing and awful—

…but the conquering sensation never comes. Beth had said that it would root into your mind, that just feeling it with your Gift, as you are right now, would tear you to pieces. Yet all that really happens is you staring at it and it staring at you, before it shoulders its way through the cockpit door and disappears inside. The only thing you really experience is the shock of seeing it in somebody, puppeting around a person with dreams and thoughts and memories.

For a few moments, you suck down heaving breaths through your nose and stare at the closed door.

Something about it nagged at you. Besides the obvious—how different it felt compared to what your mother had described—you swear you felt something else, some ringing sense of strangeness that you just couldn’t put your finger on. Maybe it was the fact that you’d just made eye contact with a real creature of hell, an evil spirit, whatever. But you made eye contact with evil spirits all the time. This was… closer to home than that. Underneath the writhing mass of bloody, black ink that made up the demon, your Gift had recognized something unimaginably familiar.

Sensing the demon in person had reminded you of… of a sensory memory, almost. It smelled like… warm static. The old staticy TV in your house, the ancient one that sat square and unattractively on your Mom’s slanting sideboard in the living room. You remembered her crystal ashtray propped up on the top, the fizzy sound the TV made when you’d shut it off…

On the nights when it was just you and Sam home, and the house felt so big and empty that the silence throbbed in your ears, the two of you would set up a fort in front of that TV and watch old horror movies well past your bedtime. The silly effects and the dated acting were easy to tease together. You’d much rather watch movies on the newer screen in your Mom’s room, but for whatever reason, Sam insisted on the clunker in your living room.

Y’wanna know somethin’ cool? He’d asked you once, running a finger through the film of static bubbling on the surface of the glass. A little bit of the static in TVs is actually radiation leftover from the Big Bang. How weird is that? Something so old and powerful, picked up by this random piece of junk.

Sam always crashed first, leaving you alone with the white static the TV defaulted to when the movie ended. You could vividly remember how your shoulders bumped against the hard floor through the thin sleeping bag the two of you had shared—how Sam’s warmth had seeped into your shirt where he was curled up behind you, his soft sleepy breaths tickling your hair.

When you’d pulled his arm around your waist to snuggle, a spark of static had shocked you through his touch. When you’d closed your eyes and tried to go to sleep, you swore that the ancient, cosmic hum of the static in the TV ebbed and flowed at the same exact time as Sam’s breath.

In. Bzzzsh. Out. Bzzzsh. Crackling as he breathed.

It wasn’t the demon you were scared of anymore. The ancient, ever-present sting of static you’d felt deep down inside it… that scared you a million, a billion times more, because—

You felt that static every time you felt Sam.

_

It’s like trying to describe the smell of your childhood home.

Logically, you know your house must smell like something. But when you’re in one place long enough your brain filters it out as background noise, and it becomes something you can only notice after a long time away.

You’d known Sam since you were in diapers. Back then, the meager threads of your Gift were already taking him in and absorbing him into your memory. Eventually, you felt him so often that all the pain and optimism in his core, all the stuff that made Sam himself, had smoothed out into warm, familiar background noise to your Gift.

Then he’d left for Stanford. Four years passed, and the only exposure your Gift had to him was the flimsy thread stretched two thousand miles down to California. Because it’d been so long since you’d sensed him in person, hugging him outside his apartment had been like stepping into your home after a long time away—for a brief moment, the filter over your psychic perceptions of him had lifted. You’d sensed for the first time what had always been there, buried deep. The Static.

At the time, you’d gotten so swept up in Sam, Dean, and the adventure of finding their Dad, that it was easy to get sidetracked. Things came up. You got used to Sam again, and his Static faded to background noise.

Until you’d felt that demon with your Gift.

A demon. A creation of Lucifer. You’d always remember what Sam felt like—you’d never forget the smell of home—but in one of them?

Your mind whirls with so many questions that it flat-out pops, failing you. Pulled along on a cloud of white noise, you somehow manage to turn away from the cockpit and start back down the aisle. The demon is possessing the pilot. You have forty minutes, less than, to exorcize it and save the two hundred people on this flight. These are all truths floating around in your head, but no matter how much you try to circle back to one, the static of the demon overcomes you again.

Static. You think of Sam, the crackle of his soft raspy voice through the phone. Your heart is pounding in your ears, thudding away in your chest like a piston. The static had burned in the demon, burned like busted speakers and smoking plane wreckage. Little pins all over your skin pressing in. The space you have until you make it to Sam’s seat seems to yawn, your footfalls sluggish and shivery. Why do they feel the same? Why does he feel the same? The static of the demon worms under your fizzing skin, bubbling, boiling—

You stop in front of Sam’s row, and he’s already looking at you when you get close. He asks you a question. You stare at him, the whole world filled with that awful roaring buzzing, the air tight and dessert dry in the back of your throat. Even though he’s right in front of you, you feel like you barely see him—just the vague burning outline of him in your powers.

Sam reaches out to grab your wrist, tugging it away from the long marks you’re viciously scratching into the flesh of your arm. The touch of his hand causes a literal static shock to jolt from his fingers to yours. You yelp in surprise, but it’s—

It’s different. There’s a similarity, definitely, between what you sensed in the demon and what’s always been in Sam… but his Static is hot chocolate warm and fuzzy and so good. Melt-in-your-mouth good. Your surroundings filter back in, and there are his soft, worried eyes looking up at you under his brow, and his big hand soothing over the irritated skin you’ve scratched raw. Sam. The same Sam he’s always been.

…Whatever it is, whatever weird connection you’ve just made, you’re sure there’s a lot more to it than Sam having something in common with a demon. Right?

Sam takes one look at you, your insane reaction, and your mysterious reappearance, then easily puts two and two together: “One of the pilots?”

“Co-pilot,” you tell him, and one of your absent-minded hands drifts up to scratch at your arm again.

And again, Sam fishes his fingers around your wrist and pulls it away. Now that you’ve noticed it, you can’t un-notice it. His touch makes your fingertips and the ends of your ears tingle, and not completely in the boy-crush way. In the psychic way.

He asks, “You gonna be okay? We got twenty-two minutes.”

That jolts you back to life. Twenty-two minutes until this plane is smoking ashes in a Pennsylvania cornfield. Though the last ten minutes have easily overcomplicated all twenty-four years of your life, you won’t have a life period if you don’t see this job through. When Dean returns from investigating a very un-possessed Amanda, he feels the exact same way.

Your resolve hardens, and you manage to give Sam an absent-minded smile. “I’ll be fine.”

There’s no time for arguing. Dean and Sam unanimously agree that the only possible place to exorcize the demon would be in the back, where Amanda is, since you can’t exactly jump the guy in the middle of economy. You don’t exactly like the idea of roping her into this, but Amanda’s the only one who could potentially lure that—thing to the rear of the plane. It is the world’s shittiest ambush. But by the time the three of you decide what to do, you’ve burned ten whole minutes on anxious chatter. A shitty ambush is the only plan you’ve got.

Dean starts down the aisle for the back of the plane. You stare at nothing for a beat, and only remember to get out of your seat when Sam nudges your elbow. He presses his lips together like he wants to ask you the million-dollar question (“Are you sure you’re okay?”), but there is literally no time. In a haze, you shuffle out of your seat after Dean and make a feeble attempt to get your head into gear. Sam does not make it easy. One of his broad hands brushes against the small of your back as you both squeeze out of the row, and you feel like you’ve just gone down one of those static-charged plastic playground slides.

Your Gift is exaggerating it. It has to be, right? Making big connections out of little things, picking at a fresh bruise. For weeks, you���ve been crammed into a little car with Sam, into teeny motel beds with him with no room between you. Why hadn’t you felt it? Why now? Not when you were four, napping in the same bed after playtime—not when you were twelve, and Sam was the first person outside your family that your Gift had connected with. Had it always been there, living inside him? Had you missed it?

You reach the back of the plane. Amanda is there, a pale, blonde flight attendant straight out of a commercial. You are dully aware that you have twelve minutes left before the demon makes its move, always on the forty-minute mark (...and you don’t like the line suddenly drawn between Sam and such an old, biblically evil thing).

The boys talk. A familiar conversation occurs over your head, which might be why it’s easy for you to tune out. Your mind returns again to thoughts of Sam, so intense and loud in your head that it all fizzles out to nothing, and you’re left standing there with the air pressure making your ears ring. Sam. The demon. It’s stupid and intangible and you’d have no fucking clue how to explain it out loud, but your Gift is made to find the truth. Something inside that demon exists in Sam, too. Something.

You try to reassure yourself that maybe, just this once, your Gift is wrong. Maybe this is the demon getting into your mind—learning your deepest fears and bringing them to life.

Sure enough, Dean’s charm and Sam’s earnest face must win Amanda over, because she flits out of the back room like a frightened bird. The boys peer through the curtain to watch her go, the two of them as still and sharp-eared as twin watchdogs. You’re slapped back to life by the sudden tension in the room, and quickly scuttle up behind them. Right. Amanda’s getting the co-pilot. These next ten minutes will determine the rest of your life.

In the same beat, you and Dean ready your holy water, and Sam gets the written exorcism from their dad’s journal out in front of him. There’s no need for the three of you to say a word. An understanding passes between each of you, hammered in from years of hunting as a team. Sam slides up next to you and Dean gives you a firm nod, squashing your last wisps of fear. You’re here to do a damn job.

A man’s voice floats toward the closed curtain to the back room, followed not-so-closely by Amanda’s. You’re glad she’s not the first one into the room—because Dean instantly slams a fist into their face.

The co-pilot—or really, the thing inside him—goes sprawling. You’ve got a strip of duct tape bridled over his mouth before he even fully collides with you, and for the blissful moment you have him pinned, Dean gets another fierce hit in.

While he’s still stunned, you whip the co-pilot to the grated metal floor. Dean clambers on top of him and keeps him there with a firm fist twisted in his rumpled button-up.

Amanda panics, “W-what are you doing? Y-you said you we-were gonna talk to him—!”

“We are gonna talk to him,” Dean grits.

Then, you’re hosing him down with holy water, splashing it brutally in the man’s pain-twisted face. Your gut clenches with empathy. Did the demon leave his body already? You’re terrified for a moment that you got the wrong guy… until you smell the smoke. It’s not just sulfur, but full-on dead body bloat, steaming up from the big black boils that spring up where the holy water hits skin. You get a mouth and noseful vile enough to make you gag. This thing fighting you? This is definitely not a man.

Amanda watches the demon’s skin sizzle, the usual terror and confusion on her face. “O-oh my god, what’s wrong with him?”

You pour all the psychic clarity and calmness into your voice when you whip around and tell her: “It’s going to be okay. Be calm, go outside the curtain, and don’t let anybody in. Can you do that, Amanda?”

You don’t stop to listen to her answer. Sam’s already tearing through the opening to the exorcism at ninety miles an hour, his pronunciation punchy and fatally clear. That had been one of the less exciting parts of the five-hour drive here; when Sam had run through it over and over, re-training himself. One misspoken word could get everyone on this plane killed.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus…”

The demon thrashes viciously in your grip, twisting and contorting under Dean in ways the human body can’t bend. Bile rises in your throat as you hear a snap, then two, as the demon does everything it can to buck Dean off. By the time you go to stun it with another splash of holy water, it’s more of a dribble. That’s your first mistake.

Two people are not nearly enough to keep this thing down. It gets a hand loose that instantly sends Dean flying, and before you even see where he lands, it cranks your head all the way to the left in one vicious slap.

Your whole face is blasted with red, stinging pain. You go down hard, smashed sideways into the cramped wall.

The pain stuns you out of the headspace you built to distract yourself, and all at once the presence of the demon is thrust upon you. The black, molten psychic power of it crackles through your body, filling your nose and mouth with the same terror hanging in your visions all week. Until you realize— It fucking backhanded you.

Trying to see past the dots swimming in your vision, you mindlessly shove off the wall, snarling with rage. No fucking way.

And then it speaks (to Sam?), and in the fizzing noise of pressure in your ears you hear it promise, “I know what happened to your girlfriend!” The constant stream of Sam’s exorcism stops cold.

When the demon speaks again, its voice, a spectral twist of the co-pilot’s and something older, drooled with pleasure. “She died screaming,” it rasped, “Even now, she's burning.”

A lot happens in the next precious seconds. First, the little circular light flushed flat to the back cabin’s ceiling explodes. Just—bursts, in shock, spraying sparks and glass all over the little room. You’re stunned enough as it is getting hit in the face, so one more thing to fuck up your vision doesn’t help. But you heard what the demon said to Sam. Through the suffocating evil flooding your mind, you feel the sharp spike of hurt and rage and grief in your best friend—and that’s the precise moment when you decide that you’ve had e-fucking-nough.

These last few days have not been winners. And though you live a pretty shitty life with an impressive amount of shitty days, even before you got to Pennsylvania, your streak of bad luck had only just gotten started. This demon has screwed with your Gift on an unimaginable level. Your last few nights have been plagued with nightmares straight from hell, and your days haven’t been much better, riddled with useless visions that get more and more disconnected every time you faint. It made it even more obvious than usual that you’re deadweight for Sam and Dean. They had to handle your boiling water burns and your freakouts, not to mention your mood swings and your unhelpful visions.

The demon hurt Dean, which is enough to get your teeth grinding. And Sam—it had cut him much deeper.

You wanted to tear it apart. You wanted to reach into it the same way it had reached into you, dig in with your nails, and rip something out. Your mom’s words buzz in your head: contact, truth, lies, rip, apart. Rationally, you know you should listen to her warning. If just looking into its eyes has forever changed your view of the man you’ve loved since you were little, then looking deeper could kill you—scramble your mind. You know that. But beside the rage and exhaustion fizzing under your skin is this desperate need to know.

Demons are made of lies. What if it was lying about Sam? What if it had screwed with your Gift in some new way, tweaking the image of him in your mind? It had to be lying. The Static in him, as warm and as good as you swore it was—it came from something evil. Sam. The man you love, the boy you’d fallen in love with, his soft sleepy breaths as he lays on the floor beside your bed, his freckly arms swimming in his too-big sleeves. How could any part of him be evil? He couldn’t be. N-not your Sam. How could he ever have something like that inside him?

You need to be sure. Consequences be damned.

As the demon rears up to keep snarling in Sam’s face, you slap a hand over its forehead—reach in—and start ripping.

_

She died screaming.

Sam can’t pull a full breath in. The words burn through his body like a syringe of poison, spreading from limb to limb. The demon snarls up at him, its foamy spit hitting Sam’s face and its teeth snapping around Jess’s name—until.

_____’s hand seals over the demon’s face. The demon’s jaw snaps shut. There is a terrible hanging moment where Sam’s brain struggles to connect the touch to what she’s doing; she never, ever psychically connected with the full face of her palm tattoo. Even with her mom Sam knew she put up a barrier, reading Beth with the smooth back of her knuckles instead.

Shit. Another fresh shot of horror lances through him. What the hell is she doing to it?

The effect is instant. Whatever button _____ had just hit, it activates every horror-movie, Exorcist-level instinct in the demon’s body. Surprised yelps echo down the back of the plane as the lights violently flicker. In electrified, strobing flashes, Sam sees it. The co-pilot’s body is diagonal on the floor one moment, and then it’s arching its back three feet in the air, lurching up into ______’s palm like she’d hit it with a defibrillator. The demon floats up and stays up.

…Until Dean brings it smashing back to the floor again, throwing his weight on top of the co-pilot. He barks, “Sam!” Right. Whatever she’s doing to it, it’s the only working distraction they’ve got. Slapped back to focus, Sam stutters out where he left off: “...O-omnis congregatio et secta diabolica—” It’s a blessing that he makes it through the next lines of the exorcism. Sam pours all of his willpower into keeping his eyes on the stained notebook page it’s written on, no matter how many times his gut begs him to check on her. All he can do is have faith. This is what she does—when Dean’s not strong enough and Sam’s too weak, she finds a damn way, come hell or high water. Sam has always had endless faith in that. So when the whole plane gives that terrible shudder that he was expecting, and then tips, and tips, and tips into a full pitch forward, Sam grips that faith with both hands. The demon’s power ripples through the rest of the plane. Everything descends into chaos. Past the curtain, the lights go out in one silent burst, followed by the explosive, concussive screams of the passengers as the oxygen masks drop. Movies are unfortunately good at capturing this precise moment, but nothing could ever replicate the way Sam’s belly swoops as all five hundred tons of the plane heads straight for the ground. Sam and Dean both go flying, crashing sideways into the walls of the back cabin. The turbulence rips the journal from his hands, and of course, with their fucking luck, it goes skidding through the curtain and down the aisle to ricochet under the seats. “Grab it!” Dean screams.

Sam can’t hear him. He staggers into the open doorway of the back cabin, clutching the frame for dear life. A terrifying, unnatural howl whistles through the cabin, even louder than the wails of the passengers. Its wind flutters his hair around his face and sends luggage toppling out of the overhead bins. For a moment, Sam wonders if the plane’s been hit or the demon has done something—but no. It’s her. He flattens himself to the floor—or rather, gravity flattens him—crawling on his belly towards the shadow of the journal under the seats. The passengers sob and shriek. The air is singed with smoky fear, and riding that same fear, Sam surges ahead, lunging for the book where it’s lodged between tossed luggage. He has to twist to get his hands on it, and it’s then that he feels it.

Down the aisle behind him, the wind drags luggage and loose papers into the void-like darkness of the back cabin—where the great, cleansing, sweeping power of her is fighting the demon. Sam believes in what he’s seen; Sam believes in angels.

She’ll buy him enough time. He knows she will.

Sam’s hands don’t shake as he pries the journal open to the right page.

“Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus,” he shouts, and the words ring as clear and clean as a bell. The plane tries to toss him again, but Sam grits his teeth and persists, “audi nos!”

He waits. Sam sees it more than he hears it. Deep in the blackhole darkness of the plane’s cabin, something red and fiery flashes to life… flickers… and dies.

Maybe he’s imagining it, but he swears he feels the demon fizzle out. The heaviness in the air melts away. The lights, which Sam realizes had been snapping on and off, turn on for good. The hissing of the turbines spins to its normal hum. The plane swooshes back up with a slow coasting motion, then sets itself back on its peaceful forward track.

Gasps and sobs of relief chorus all around Sam, and sprawled in the middle of the aisle, he finds himself doing the same. Overhead, the pilot’s voice crackles reassurances over the intercom. As big wuffs of air cycle in and out of Sam, he waits for the moment for his heart to stop thumping, for the big “we won” moment to wash over him—but it never really does. It sits with him. For a long terrible moment, he is on the bed in his apartment in Palo Alto, Jessica’s blood boiling holes in his neck.

Even now, she’s still burning.

INDIANAPOLIS INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - Dec. 5th, early morning.

Somehow, amid all the noise of swarming paramedics, feds, airline authorities, and stunned 424 passengers, Sam manages to remain lost in his own head. He clenches his jaw til’ his ears pop. How had it known about Jess?

The terminal is quickly packed. He’s not in airports often enough to know whether they should be packed at one in the morning, but he’s gonna guess not. It is all background noise for him. Passengers whirl past, getting cleared by cops to go home, and Dean subtly nudges the three of them into the leaving crowd. Sam has a vague notion that he’s putting one foot in front of the other, but everything feels distant and hazy. His neck blazes with that terrible tingling feeling, and he digs into it with his nails until Dean stops him.

“Sam,” Dean orders, dipping his head towards the direction of the parking lot. Apparently Sam isn’t cooperating well. “Let’s get the hell outta’ here.” For a brief moment, the awful burning feeling covering him in a fog parts long enough for him to think, and Sam realizes that he doesn’t know where _____ is. Panic lances through his chest so fast that he sobers all at once, and he opens his mouth to panic more—until he sees her, scrunched up behind Dean.

Well, clutching Dean. Left shameless by whatever she saw in that demon’s head, she’s got Dean’s hand and wrist in a deathgrip, trailing him so close that her shoes catch the heels of his boots. She does not look good. Her eyes are big and wide and she looks straight through everyone and everything, still tethered to the other dimension her powers live in. She’s got her elbows pressed into her ribs and her body bunched up so tight that Sam can almost feel her psychic overstimulation from where he’s standing.

“S’okay, sweetheart, ” Dean hushes, the first in a long, quiet string of reassurances.

Sam stares at her. Even if she’s in her own world, she must be able to feel it, ‘cause she physically leans out of his way. That should hurt him—should make him burn with sympathy—but instead, all he can think is, she would know. She would know if the demon was lying. Sam’s connected with her like that—there’s absolutely nothing to hide, even if you wanted to, so there’s no way she couldn’t see if the demon had been telling the truth.

The line of people seeping through security to get out of the airport slows to a stop, making way for the pack of paramedics hauling 424’s copilot away on a stretcher. The black boils from the holy water have left his body entirely.

He’ll ask her once. He has to try. Sam lets the two of them in front of him, Dean, then _____, almost pressing her face into Dean’s back. When they’re stopped in line, Sam lifts a hand to touch her—but stops himself, not wanting her to feel any worse. “_____,” Sam swallows, trying to keep his voice even. “What did you see? H-How did it know about Jessica?”

Before she even has the opportunity to answer, (if she can even hear him), Dean swings around to shoot Sam a pained look. “Dude, look at her. Now is not the fuckin’ time. Let her get a full breath in before you start with the interrogations, okay?”

Sam recoils. The gnashing, rebellious fire he usually saves for Dad pours out here, instead, and before Sam knows it he’s snarling back, “I can’t ask one question about my dead girlfriend?”

It lasts only for an instant, but Sam gets to watch in real time the way that hit lands. He’s aware that it’s deeply fucked up of him to enjoy throwing Jess in Dean’s face, but it is his backward, comforting reminder that she was a real person; not a four-year-long fever dream he invented to escape. No one says her name but him anymore. At least, when he talks about her, someone else is forced to feel something too.

Dean sets his jaw. He makes the mistake of trying to turn towards Sam, which _____ thinks is an attempt to shake her off—and she lets out this awful, hoarse sob sound that stops them both cold.

Sam feels like a rail spike has been driven through his chest. Dean gives him a look, then mercifully drops it.

Immediately, Dean’s wheeling her back in and soothing her. The angle at which she’s clinging to him is awkward for all three of them, so he endures her trembling and hitching little sobs as he peels off her hands and re-arranges them. Dean loops an arm around her back so he can stroke her shuddering shoulders, uttering, “S’okay, kiddo, s’ all over… ain’t nothin’ gonna hurt you…”

And of course, because Sam can never exist in peace, he watches the way ______ drops all her weight onto Dean and feels his chest squeeze. Suddenly, he’s very aware of what four years have changed between her and his brother.

The rush back to the car is silent, but for _____’s little sniffling breathes. After making it out of the blistering lights of the chattering airport and out into the peaceful snowy parking lot, things calm down.

Four separate times Sam thinks about reaching out to comfort her. The Gift always leaves her freezing cold, and early December in Indiana on top of that has her making audible little shivering sounds as they walk. Sam’s boiling under his coat. He unzips it, then zips it up again, unsure if she’d even want it. Dean gets her in the car and puts a warm blanket around her before Sam can get over his indecision.

They just saved two hundred people. In hindsight, that’s a massive win. Maybe if the demon hadn’t said what it’d said, and maybe if it hadn’t reduced her to this, Sam could celebrate. Seeing her so messed up always throws him. Less than an hour ago, she was the powerful psychic that used to have Dad clutching his telepathy-blocking charm under his shirt.

Sam scrubs his hand down his face, staring blankly at the trembling lump of blanket lying across the backseat. Now, she’s… whatever she saw in that demon.

Dean tucks her feet up onto the seat, then nudges the door closed with his hip. Sam stares past him, through him, at her silhouette in the Impala’s dark glass, because that’s somehow easier than looking at Dean.

The smattering of snow growing on the asphalt makes the whole world sound muffled. Sam feels like he’s talking to empty air when he croaks, “It knew about Jessica.”

“Sam,” Dean calls, softer this time. Asking for Sam to look at him. When he manages to heave his head up, Dean’s face is firm and reassuring. “These things—they read minds. They lie, just like Beth said. That’s all it was. Don’t let that thing get into your head, okay?”

Sam forces himself to nod. They both spare the shaking shape in the backseat one more look, then Dean’s rounding the car for the driver’s seat, and Sam’s sliding in next to him without another word.

PITTSBURG, PENNSYLVANIA - Dec. 5th, night.

Green. It had to be the ugliest color a motel room could be, Sam thought as he stared at the empty room. The walls were this sad limey green color that managed to look awful even in the dark, some parts made even limey-er by the huge neon green vacancy sign right outside their window. Their room was parked right next to it, so there was no escaping the sign even with the curtains pulled shut.

You and Dean, who were positioned right under the ugly green light, had somehow managed to fall asleep anyway. The only sound in the whole world was your soft breathing across the room and the crackle of the ancient TV.

Right now, it was playing a rerun of some televangelist in a big shiny white suit. He paced the screen on mute as Sam watched, curled on his side, laying diagonal to face the screen. Nightmares were so common for him now that the hardest part of the battle was getting to sleep in the first place. His strategy was to get so bored and so tired that his body would simply have nothing else to do but crash. Bored was the key word—Sam had tried reading, sudoku, and counting cars as they whisked by, but all of that occupied his mind too much to work. Tonight was another night where his mind was just too full to sleep.

He hoped Dean was right. He prayed that the demon had just been lying, lips pressed to the cross he kept under his shirt. Most days, Sam dropped into bed and sent off a brief prayer before the fight for sleep began. Tonight, though—tonight was one of those nights where he clasped his cross in both hands and poured his heart out. Sam prayed for his brother, his Dad, and for you, like usual, pleading for protection and strength. Sam prayed for Jessica, too.

(But never for her forgiveness—he knew he didn’t deserve that).

When Sam had first started getting comfortable with prayer, he’d always worried that he was being greedy or selfish by asking for so much. Health, food, lunch money, for Dad and Dean to get home okay. Now, it’s a natural comfort to him. To open yourself up to something higher than you, to give up your pride and ask for help—that is a mark of holiness. Goodness. Sam closes out his prayers and feels clean.

Across the room, Sam hears the covers in the opposite bed shift. He squints sleepy eyes at your silhouette, and even sluggish and drained, the shifting colors from the TV and the vacancy sign illuminate you like something not entirely from this world.

You pad over to his bedside. A soft, ice-cold hand shakes his arm. When you get up close and realize Sam’s awake, you scuttle back in surprise. “Uh.”

Sam shoves his face into his pillow. With his mind still on Jess, it’s hard for him to look at you right now. “What is it?”

It’s funny. From the moment you got off flight 424, you’d been glued to Dean’s side. Sam had kept his teeth pressed together through the entire thing, watching from a distance as you reached for Dean, spoke to Dean, took the food Dean gave you. If Sam didn’t know any better, he’d figure you were avoiding him. Now you’ve decided you want something from him?

The second you touch his arm, every wisp of jealousy in Sam dries up. Not at all in the mood to be touched, he squirms out from under your hand and hoarsely repeats, “What?” You speak to him for the first time in hours. You sound rough and broken, and the edge of that awful sob from earlier today threatens to tip into your voice. “Can I…?”

Sam keeps his face planted in the pillow. At first he’s unsure what you’re even asking for—until you drop a hand on the mattress and he feels your weight tilt closer, wanting to… to lay with him. Like when you were little. When you share beds on the road, there’s often space left between you. That’s not what you’re asking for. If that’s what you wanted right now, you’d be in Dean’s bed.

The soft, choked little voice he can’t resist begs, “I just need to feel you.”

The last sliver of guilt and self-loathing that Sam has been holding onto instantly slips out of his grasp, hearing that. For the millionth time since this morning, he’s reminded of how awful he was to you. You’d been brought to the brink with your powers in a way they hadn’t seen in years, and Sam chose that precise moment to freak out. He wished he’d been better to you. Maybe he can’t pray for Jess’s forgiveness, but he can work to earn yours now.

Sam shuffles back on the mattress and opens the covers for you. “C’mere.”

As quiet as a mouse, you duck under his arm and slip under the covers. Sam immediately realizes that he should’ve fucking braced himself or something, because holy shit, you are so close. He accidentally gave you very little room in the already small bed. To keep from tumbling off the mattress and onto the questionable carpet, you reasonably and logically slot right up against him, your back against his chest and your heads on the same pillow. Holy shit, he did not think this through. Sam has very few gentlemanly places to lay his arm. And even if he found one, your icy cold hand picks up his warm one and—right, okay, you take it and wrap it right around your middle. That’s fine too. Cool. Awesome.

Okay. Forgetting every way he could sabotage this for himself for just a moment, Sam realizes that he missed this. God, he missed it so much. You wiggle back into his body and Sam gives you a big, indulgent squeeze around the tummy, earning this watery little sigh that makes his already racing heart zing out into orbit. Friendly snuggling became a lot less friendly when you were pushing seventeen instead of nine, so Sam hasn’t allowed himself to properly, um… cuddle you… in ages.

That isn’t even the best part. That little squeeze makes him realize just how pleasantly cold you are, a wonderful ice cube in blazing hot soup. Sam’s practically cooking under the covers—and that must be perfect for you and your chilly hands, because you make the same pitiful happy noise that Sam does as you get comfortable against each other.

Maybe if this were any other moment, after any other day, that would be something you might laugh about together. Instead, Sam’s prayers are filled with you and your incredible burden. He hesitates to go all in and hold you like he wants to… until your breath makes that tight, hitching sound again, and Sam’s sure you’re holding back tears. Screw it, Sam thinks. He’ll take care of you this time. Sam presses his face into your hair and entwines your hands on your belly, unsure of what to say and yet wanting to say so much. Dean can’t hold you like this—this is something you only want from Sam.

You both go still. Sam feels you hold your breath. His legs are itching to shift under the covers and your hand awkwardly holds his, the two of you afraid to disturb the magic.

Your thumb slowly caresses along the flat side of his hand. His heart leaps into his throat, and he squeezes his eyes shut, willing himself to relax. You need this. Finally, it’s his turn to comfort you.

Sam swallows hard. There’s no way you can’t feel his heart thudding away, inches from popping clean out of his chest. Neither of you are stupid. If Dean were to wake up, you know exactly what this would look like to him—to the cleaning lady, to the strangers out on the street. But right now, in this frozen moment, there’s no one awake in the world but the two of you and the TV. It is so, so wrong. But when you touch him, Sam feels clean.

Bit by bit, you adjust to one another. Your breath syncs up. The whole time, your eyes never move from the TV, but if Sam focusses he swears something washes over him—that same great, sweeping, cleansing power from the plane, as light as moth wings on his skin. He has to bite back his smile. If you did that to anyone else, they’d find you creepy as hell.

After what feels like forever, you plainly croak, “It was lying about her. It was made of lies.”

That hits Sam like a slap to the face. That’s… yeah. That sounds right. He absorbs the impact as best he can, because although his faith was thin, Sam trusted Dean’s word and he trusts yours, too. There’s—so much that he feels about that, but he doesn’t want any more of his grief to overwhelm your Gift. Sam’s not naive. No matter how good of a person you are, no matter how considerate and understanding and empathetic you can be, Sam knows that talking about Jessica brings you some level of pain. It hurts him, too. And he has zero clue where that conversation would even begin, so he stores his shame and his loss and gives a shaky nod.

Instead, Sam asks, “...What did you see? When you looked into its head?”

Right. Cause’ that was such a better question to ask her, Sam.

You go silent. It’s a weighty, knowing silence, one that chokes the whole room. Sam readies himself for whatever you’re about to share with him. Admittedly, he’s curious. When the Gift was something new in your life, Sam used to pile on question after question about what the world felt like to you. ‘What does it feel like when Dean’s happy?’ A car motor turning on. ‘What does my happiness feel like?’ Dimples and a mystery being solved. ‘You’re joking.’ Not even a little. It fascinated Sam—how does a demon feel in comparison to a regular spirit?

“...It was just an evil spirit, Sammy,” you dismiss. “That’s all.”

Sam highly doubts that’s true. If it was just a spirit, then why did it screw with you so deeply? What had you seen in its head that had scared you? You, of all people, who was built for this? He knows there’s something more here, but after this week and all the ways you’ve fought to avoid being a burden, the fact that you’d crawl to Sam for comfort is a sign of surrender. You’ve given up. Clearly, you don’t want to talk about it. Sam isn’t going to push you. God knows he’s done that enough.

When Sam doesn’t push you, you shudder out a wet sigh and pick up his hand. At this point, Sam expects you in this state to do something weird—and sure enough, you do. You pick up Sam’s hand and you just stare at it. Just stare. Your thumb presses into the meat of his palm, almost like you’re looking for something. Feeling him. Sam’s heart gives another pathetic, noticeable throb. Feeling him and being close to him is, after everything, still a source of comfort for you. His cheeks burn.

Just to fill the silence, Sam whispers, “I’ve lost a lot of my calluses.”

Per usual, his little creep says nothing. You’re still feeling him. Your other hand comes up to investigate too, adding even more soft gentle touching to Sam’s already overloaded system. Your thumbs press into the center of his palm (reading it, maybe?), then over each bump, confirming for yourself that Sam’s real.

Maybe he’d be a bit more resilient if you were doing this to him in a crowded diner or a rowdy college party. Instead, Sam can feel the rise and fall of your breath through your thin shirt, and it’s the only sound in the dead world besides the buzzing static on the TV.

Your gaze turns to the TV. The fingers caressing his hand stop cold.

Sam says your name. He can feel your heart thud thud thudding deep in your chest, like rabbit’s feet hitting snow.

Again, absorbed completely in your own task, you don’t answer him. You roll over very suddenly under the covers. Sam hopes for a minute that being face to face with you will give him some answers, but the flash of your face he sees only serves to scare the shit out of him. You give him no time to process before you’re full-body hugging him, shoving a hand between his side and the mattress and fisting one in his shirt to bodily haul him against you. Sam sputters out a sharp noise and awkwardly slopes his hands down your back. The sudden intimacy gives him a whole world of shameful butterflies and freaks him out enough, but…

You looked terrified. The same bone-deep horror you had on your face after you saw the demon in person—when you trudged up to Sam with those haunting Proctor eyes, staring straight through him and right at his future. What had you seen in that demon?

Sam tries to speak, but you talk over him, just as haunted as you’d been on that plane.

“I love you. So much, Sam. You know that?”

It’s not a sweet, reminiscent kind of question. It is a genuine, unironic, please-tell-me-the-truth, You know that?

Sam’s brain stalls. “...Yeah. O-Of course.”

In case that wasn’t worrying enough, your hands needily grasp at his back, refusing to let Sam go as you duck your face into his shoulder. Sam can feel your entire body trembling from head to toe, can feel your hot breath on his neck choking back tears. “You’re a good person,” you tell him, insisting. “The best to me.”

“That’s—”

“I can feel it, okay?” You snap. One of your hands slips up his chest to smooth over Sam’s heart, and you squeeze him against you, promising, “Here. Right here.”

…Okay. Consider him officially freaked out. Sam manages an unconvinced, “...Thank you.”

You’re so wound up that you’re gritting your teeth, digging your nails into his shirt and clawing him as close as possible. This has to be an effect of what you saw. Which is strange, because that… whatever that was, did not feel like psychic possession or a psychic panic attack or any kind of psychic anything. It felt like you, trying to convince Sam that he’s a good person. It strikes a cold, dark chord somewhere deep within him that he doesn’t like. You’re just… you’re just reacting to what the demon showed you. You’re overwhelmed from stretching your Gift so thin. T-that’s. Yeah. Regardless, you’re scared. You need him. That, at least, is something he can work with.

“Shh,” Sam coos. He rubs a warm hand from the base of your scalp all the way down your back, then up, and back again, repeating the soothing motion until his arm goes numb. “You’re tired. Let’s go to sleep.”

You mumble something non-committal under your breath.

Sam hushes you, blindly reaching for comforting things to say. “S’ okay. You’re okay, baby. You can fall asleep on me.”

Maybe the demon showed you visions of Sam getting hurt. Something. That would explain this, maybe. He fixates on it, purely because it’s a problem in front of him that is much easier to think about than how scared he is for you, and worse, how much he loves this. Being your person. It’s a stupid, selfish thought to have in a moment like this, but—Sam wishes he could take care of you like this all the time.

As your frantic breathing smooths out into a clear, easy in-and-out, Sam wonders, wherever Jess is, what she would think if she saw this.

He closes his eyes and tries to steady his own breathing, the TV still crackling away on the dresser.

In. Bzzzsh. Out. Bzzzsh.

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