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kiarastromboli · 5 months

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I missed u (Matt Sturniolo x Y/n)

Masterlist.

Warning: Smut content, don’t like it = don’t read it :)

Summary: You and your boyfriend Matt haven't seen each other for two weeks, and it's becoming unbearable for both of you.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Matt and I have been a couple for over a year now. Since the beginning of our relationship, we've always been very close, to the point where I don't think we've ever gone more than 2 days without seeing each other until last week.

I didn't think his absence would affect me so much. This week, Matt has been particularly busy with his YouTube channel, and he and his brothers have had quite a few projects to manage lately. As for me, I've been swamped with work; we're entering the Christmas season, so my job is busier than the rest of the year.

Anyway, it's been more than two weeks now since I've had the chance to see my boyfriend, and I feel like I'm going crazy. I have trouble sleeping without him, and I won't lie about the fact that I really want him right now. I know he feels the same way. The only times we've had the chance to call each other in the past two weeks were for him to relieve some pressure because, according to him, he "can't do it alone."

This leaves me desperate in the situation. I've tried to distract myself by masturbating several times, but it doesn't help. I'm incredibly horny, and the only thing that could help me right now is Matt.

I was quietly in bed at 1 a.m., unable to sleep as usual, when I was alerted by a message from my boyfriend on my phone.

I knew teasing Matt wasn't a very good idea, firstly because he's been just as horny as me lately, so I knew it would frustrate him. Secondly, it would end up frustrating me too...

I could see Matt starting to type and then stopping, as if he was hesitant to send me a message. After waiting for several minutes, I decided to put my phone down when I realized he wouldn't respond.

Well, at least that's what I thought before receiving another notification on my phone...

I got up from my bed to walk over to my wardrobe. I pulled out an assortment of lingerie I had bought a few days ago for this special occasion, especially for Matt. It was a blue lace set, Matt's favorite color. I knew it would drive him crazy to see me in it. The garter belt gave me a goddess-like figure, and the bra held my chest perfectly, although I knew Matt wouldn't waste a second to tear it off. I was already completely wet at the thought.

Barely finishing tidying up my room, he was already there knocking on my door. I hurried to run and open it for him in my little outfit.

"Hi-" he began to say before I cut him off, pulling him towards me by his collar and kissing him as I opened the door for him to enter.

"So eager," he said, disconnecting our lips with a smirk.

He took a step back to observe me in more detail when he saw what I was wearing. I could see his pupils dilate. I spun around to give him a better view, and he grabbed me by the waist after running his hand over his face to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

"Do you like what you see?" I asked, smiling.

His grip on my waist tightened as I locked eyes with him. He licked his lips and bit them, continuing to look me up and down.

"Do you remember your safe word?" he asked, bringing his hand to my throat to force me to look him in the eyes.

"Ketchup," I said, chuckling to tease him. He tightened his hand around my throat, eliciting a soft moan from my lips.

"I'm serious, y/n. What's your safe word?" he said in an intimidating voice, bringing his lips close to mine.

"Hmm, red," I said in a tiny voice, biting my lips. I could feel a warmth building between my legs just from his voice.

His eyes left mine to gaze at my slightly swollen, rosy lips from our previous kiss. A smile played on the corner of his face before he started advancing towards my bedroom, not letting go of my throat.

"Kiss me," I begged when we reached my room, and the back of my legs touched the side of my bed.

"What did you say? I think I misheard," he replied, amused by my impatience and desire.

"Please, Matt, kiss me," I pleaded, frustrated that he wouldn't press his lips against mine again. I looked pathetic, and he loved it.

He took off his t-shirt. "Show me that you deserve it," he said, chuckling before pushing me onto the bed so that I sat right in front of him.

I raised my eyes to him, giving him an innocent doe-eyed look. He looked at me as if he were a predator, and I was his prey. My eyes drifted to the bulge in his gray sweatpants in front of me before returning my gaze to him.

"Don't play shy with me, baby. I know you're dying for it. Take it," he said in an authoritative tone, grabbing my hair in a ponytail to clear my face while licking his lips.

I brought both of my hands to the elastic of his sweatpants, pulling them down to his ankles, leaving him in his boxers. He was bulging in his boxers; I had almost forgotten how sizable it was. Not too big to be unmanageable, but just big enough to fill me where I needed it. However, it had been a while since we had been intimate, and I already dreaded the pain I would likely feel when he penetrates me.

"Stop looking at it like that, suck it before I shove it down your throat, y/n. Don't make me wait," he said, abruptly pulling on my hair, making me sigh in surprise.

I started to palm him through his boxers, looking him straight in the eyes. I could see the intense desire burning in his eyes, making me smile in the moment.

"This is the last time I'm warning you, y/n. Stop teasing me, take it," he said, trying to hold back a frustrated moan when I removed his boxers.

"Or what?" I said, smiling playfully. I wanted to push him to the edge; I knew he wouldn't be gentle with me, and that's what I wanted.

He smiled, licking his lips to suppress a chuckle.

"You want to play like that, huh?" he said, running his thumb over my lips. I quickly took it between my teeth and nodded, looking him in the eyes.

"Fuck, I missed you so much," he said, removing his thumb from my mouth to grasp his member and press it against my lips, signaling me to open my mouth, which I eventually did.

Without warning, he immediately thrust it deep into my throat, catching me off guard and making me cough around his cock.

He chuckled but didn't stop his momentum. He began guiding my head back and forth faster and faster. I tried my best not to choke and to suppress my gag reflex every time he hit the back of my throat.

"I missed fucking your pretty little mouth like this, princess," he said, breathing rapidly. "You're so good with your tongue," he added, throwing his head back, making me moan around his cock.

Tears started to flow down my cheeks due to his constant abuse on the back of my throat, and he quickly noticed, coming to wipe my tears away with his thumb.

"Look at you crying like a baby when you were acting all tough just a few minutes ago," he said with a smirk. I furrowed my brows, unable to help but moan every time he opened his mouth to say something.

I was completely at his mercy, and I loved it. He let go of my hair to grasp my face with both hands before thrusting into me at an inhuman speed. He released moans and groans, and it only excited me even more.

He pulled out of my mouth suddenly, causing me to let out a sigh of relief and frustration. "Why did you stop?" I asked, breathless.

He leaned in to kiss me fiercely. "I'm not done with you, baby, don't worry," he said, smiling against my lips before pushing me to move back towards my headboard. He was now positioned above me, his lips glued to mine without any struggle for dominance; his tongue didn't have to fight for control.

His hand moved from my cheek to my neck, then to my chest, where he paused for a moment to play with my nipples through my delicate lace bra, making me moan again, this time into our kiss. I felt completely intoxicated, drugged by him, by his lips on mine, and his hands on my body. I was on fire, completely consumed by him. I wanted him to do unimaginable things to me.

His hand left my chest to roam my waist, where he sank his fingers before descending to my lower abdomen.

My breathing quickened; he was getting closer and closer to where I needed him. I couldn't take it anymore; I only dreamed of one thing: him touching me.

He started playing with the lace of my panties, frustrating me at the moment. I wanted him to go further, but I knew he was punishing me for my previous behavior. "Matt, please," I said, moaning and closing my eyes. I needed him to touch me; I was dying for it.

"Please what, baby? You're a big girl; formulate a proper sentence, princess," he said with a big smile. He knew exactly what I wanted; he just wanted me to say it. He enjoyed seeing me beg; he loved it.

"Please touch me, I need you. Stop making me wait. I promise to behave like a good girl. Please, touch me, Matt," I pleaded, moaning pathetically. He directed his lips to my neck before finally touching me through my panties.

I let out a sigh of relief when I finally felt his fingers apply pressure to my clit. He made agonizingly slow circular motions, and I began to squirm against the mattress, frustrated because I wanted more. I needed more.

"Matt," I said in a frustrated moan, feeling him smile against the skin of my neck. He slipped his hand into my panties this time, letting out a surprised moan in my ear when he felt how wet I was for him.

"Soaked like a little slut," he said before coming to suck marks on my neck.

"Yes, your slut, and only yours," I replied, moaning when he started massaging my clit harder and faster. I couldn't help but moan at this point; it was stronger than me. I could feel that familiar knot tightening in my stomach; I had been waiting for days to finally climax properly.

But suddenly, and without warning, as I dangerously approached my orgasm, he removed his hand from my panties. I raised my head with a frustrated moan once again. He sat up to look me in the eyes with a satisfied smile. "What's wrong? Were you about to come? Did I stop at the wrong moment?" he said, chuckling.

"Matt," I told him, looking at him with frustration for what he had just inflicted on me. He took me by the waist to switch our positions this time, him below and me just above him.

"You're lucky it's been two weeks since we've done anything. If it weren't the case, I would have left you hanging to punish you for how you behaved with me," he said, grabbing me by the throat before giving me a hip thrust, rubbing his erection against my still clothed pussy.

I let out another moan before leaning slightly forward to rest on my arm placed on his chest. "Take off your panties before I tear them off," he said, smiling.

I moved off him to remove my panties and then straddled him. He directed me towards his face. "Ride my face, baby," he said authoritatively.

I hesitated for a moment before giving in and positioning myself just above his face. His arms wrapped around my thighs as if to prevent me from escaping his grasp. I slowly let myself fall onto his face, and when I felt his tongue on my pussy, I thought I was going to go completely insane.

He began to lick my clit going progressively faster and humping against me which sent vibrations directly against my clit, I hadn't put my weight on his face for fear of smothering him but I could feel my thighs weakening as the minutes passed. He began to lick my hole assiduously, his nose rubbing against my clit which pushed me even further towards my orgasm, his fingers were planted in my thighs when he felt them trembling because they were weakening, he came to press on them to force me to put all my weight on his face.

I tried to resist but I was so obsessed by the effect he was having on me that I finally cracked, leaving all my weight on his face, which caused the pressure of his nose on my clit to increase, making me moan louder than the previous ones.

I started rubbing back and forth on his face controlled by my pleasure it was all just too much for me the sensation in my lower belly started to become unbearable "M-matt- oh my- fuckkkk" I said closing my eyes feeling my orgasm approaching.

I raised my pelvis because I felt that all this stimulation was too much for me, the orgasm that was dangerously close was driving me crazy but Matt had another plan in mind with the help of his arms he came to press again on my thighs to force me to stay in place, he started to eat me with more passion I threw my head back when I felt my orgasm coming "fuck- I'm going to cum. "I groaned, almost screaming, at the pleasure he was giving me, and suddenly the pressure was off again. I came all over his face, shouting his names and a few insults along the way, before letting myself fall onto the bed next to him.

My eyes were closed, I was out of breath and Matt came to stand beside me, kissing my cheek before whispering in my ear "I'm still not done with you", I could hear his smirk in the tone of his sentence.

He straightened up and turned me against the mattress, now on my stomach. "Matt, wait, I'm too sensitive," I said, turning my head slightly towards him. He grabbed me by the hips and arched me so that I was level with his pelvis.

"I don't care you can take it I know you can." he said in my ear before straightening up and rubbing his member against my hole. His free hand caressed the length of my back before grabbing the back of my neck and pressing my head against his pillow.

He knew it'd been a while so he gently pushed inside me and I let out a moan of pain at the burning and stretching sensation, he stopped halfway through to ask me "Are you all right princess?" and I couldn't help but smile at his concern, it was so paradoxical that he should ask me that after fucking my throat like a monster and giving me one of the most powerful orgasms I'd ever had.

"Yes, baby, you can move, I just need to get back to your size," I said, moaning softly. He moved forward again until he hit bottom and let out a beautiful moan.

"I can't believe this pussy is mine." he said as he caressed my ass before starting to stroke back and forth.

"Fuck you're really tight I'm not going to last very long." he moaned clutching my hips as if his life depended on it.

I felt like I'd gone completely stupid because of his cock, it was going exactly where I needed it to go, the only sounds coming out of my mouth were moans and my boyfriend's name, as if my memory had been wiped and those were the things left out of my vocabulary.

He started to speed up the movement and he brought his hand to my clit to play with it was still super sensitive so I couldn't help gesticulating when he did that.

"I'm gonna fucking cum y/n" he said in an animalistic moan his movements had become severely fast he was slapping the bottom like I'd never been able to feel it in my belly.

"Cum with me princess." he said as he felt my pussy clench around him I didn't need to speak he knew my body by heart he knew I was about to cum.

And after a few more thrusts I came for the second time, my vagina convulsing around his cock, pushing it to the edge before he cum inside me.

We stayed in that position for a moment, just long enough to catch our breath, before he pulled out of me and lay down beside me.

With what little strength I had left, I snuggled up to him, "I love you, baby," he said, running his hand through my hair.

"I love you too," I replied in a tired voice with my eyes closed.

"I'm going to run you a bath, my princess, and I'll drop you off at work in the morning, don't worry." he said with a smile before standing up.

Masterlist.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #ao3 fanfic #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #smut

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stevie-petey · 3 months

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episode two: trick or treat, freak

“Why do you only ever care about me when I’m some kicked fucking puppy?” Steve’s words are vicious, and you flinch at his tone. “You know that’s not true,” “It’s not?” He scoffs at you. “Then explain what happened this summer.” “I…” You can’t. Steve sees your reluctance to say anything and lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, whatever. Some real fucking friend you were.”

Summary: you and nancy have a bonding session in the library (kinda hot tbh), billy gives jonathan and steve a common cause to unite on: Protect Y/N, you're a chauffeur to a very sad steve harrington, and dustin uses will's trauma to his advantage.

Rating: general, slight cursing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, slight sexual harassment (billy corners reader and is gross), cursing, alcohol

Words: 7.9k

Before you swing in: hello ! new chapter, we've arrived at halloween !! i finally get to have a fun authors note comment: i crashed my car lol. i'm fine tho and i hope yall enjoy and like what ive done and changed a bit with this episode. i had fun coming up with costume ideas for the reader, i think the character fits her well :) and before i go: i start school next week, so updates will def be coming a bit slower after this. anyways, happy reading !

The Henderson house is pure chaos morning of Halloween.

Dustin is running around the house, screaming about how his costume has to be absolutely perfect and that if you don’t hurry up with the jack-o-lantern pancakes then he’s going to just leave without eating breakfast. Meanwhile your mother is running after him, straightening his suit and tidying his hair.

“The pancakes are almost done, my god.” You flip the last pancake, but in your rush the jack-o-lantern’s smile turns into more of a grimace, but hey, food is food. You quickly set Dustin’s plate down on the table and practically shove him into the seat.

“Eat.”

“But my proton blaster–”

“Is on the steps, I’ll grab it. Eat, I want pictures with you.” You kiss the top of your brother’s head and then run over to grab his costume’s prop.

“I’m thirteen now, I don’t need my sister doting on me–” Dustin complains, but then his eyes land on the mini Reese’s Pieces you’ve decorated his pancakes with and quickly changes his tone. “Oh! Candies! Yummy!”

You laugh at him and bring his backpack over. The Ghostbusters matching costume idea that boys have planned for today makes you want to just sweep them all into your arms and kiss their tiny little faces. They may be getting older with crushes and angsty feelings, but they’re still the same nerdy little boys you met when you were twelve.

Dustin wolfs down his pancakes and your mom prepares her camera. You woke up earlier than usual this morning specifically so that you could make Dustin’s annual Halloween pancakes and then take pictures of him with his costume on. As soon as he’s done eating, you and your mom whisk him towards the fireplace for pictures.

“Oh, I want to see those pearls!” Your mother squeals as she takes a million pictures of Dustin. When he smiles, she loses her mind. “Yeah! Lovely, I love it!”

You’re just as ecstatic as your mom. “Who you gonna call Dustin?”

“Ghostbusters!” He sings along, holding up his proton blaster with an even wider smile on his face.

It’s a happy morning.

Dustin puts on a show as he poses for your mom, and you even join in for some. Sure, you aren’t in costume, but who knows how many more mornings like these you have left? Dustin is getting older, all the boys are, so you plan on cherishing these mornings for as long as possible.

You and Dustin are giggling as you now stand back to back, him holding his blaster and you holding up finger guns, and your mom is taking multiple final pictures when Jonathan arrives. He knocks on the door before letting himself in. When he sees you and Dustin posing, he starts loudly belting the Ghostbusters song.

“God, bee. At least let my coffee kick in before you subject me to your horrible singing.” You playfully groan, grabbing your own backpack and pancakes to eat on the road.

Jonathan ignores your teasing and ruffles Dustin’s hair. “Nice costume, bud.”

Dustin, seemingly still holding a grudge against the guy after your conversation from last night, slaps his hand away and glares at him. “Don’t mess up the hair.”

Your brother proceeds to stare Jonathan down, gives him an “I’m watching you” gesture, and then walks out the front door without any further words. You, Jonathan, and your mom all stand in the living room in varying states of emotions. You’re trying not to laugh at your brother’s antics, your mom is happily looking at the photos she took, and Jonathan is standing there in complete confusion.

“What was that about?” He asks you, slightly hurt by Dustin’s rebuff.

“Shhh,” you hand him a plate of pancakes and then walk towards the front door. “Let’s get to school, bee.”

–

At school, the mullet guy from yesterday finds you at your locker as soon as Jonathan has walked away. The two of you had been running behind schedule, so you’d told Jonathan to head to first period so at least he’d be on time while you tried to find your history textbook.

As you’re digging through your locker, the mullet guy stalks up behind you.

“I never got your name,” he says with a breathy voice, standing way too close behind you.

You straighten your back, but don’t turn around. You know that if you do, the guy will only get a kick out of having your face close to his. “You never asked.”

“So there’s some sass to you underneath all that sweetness.” His breath hits the back of your neck and you shiver, but in a way that makes you feel dirty and unclean.

“What do you want?” You ask the guy, your fingers wrapping around the textbook that you’ve finally found. If needed, you’re sure it’ll make a handy weapon. It’s only you and the guy in the hallway. Everyone else has holed up in class and you’re now regretting sending Jonathan away. You feel trapped, vulnerable, and you hate it.

Mullet man chuckles deeply, his voice reverberating against your back. “Nothing yet. Just thought I’d introduce myself to such a pretty face.”

You don’t say anything, your fingers only tighten around your textbook. If he gets any closer, you’ll swing.

Though you can’t see him, you can feel his eyes flicker to your textbook and he lets out another cruel laugh. “Loosen up, sweetheart, I won’t hurt ya.” You don’t move, and he seems to get another kick out of this. “My name is Billy. Remember that for me, alright?”

Finally Billy steps away from you and you slowly release all the tension that’s built up within you. You still don’t turn around, he hasn’t left yet, but your hands are shaking a bit and you feel unsteady.

“Would you do me a favor, Billy?” Your voice is steady, there’s no trace of the fear within you.

“I’m listening,” Billy is practically purring and you want to gag at how much his cockiness oozes around you.

You turn, now finally facing him, and slam your textbook against Billy’s chest. “Learn some fucking personal space.”

Billy’s only reaction is a smile, which only makes you more uncomfortable, but you refuse to show him this. Instead, you square your shoulders and walk towards your first class. You’ve dealt with assholes in the past; you’ve known Steve Harrington since you were twelve. But Billy is different.

You’re not sure if you want to find out just how different he is from Steve.

–

Another small highlight of your school year so far has been your study sessions in the library with Nancy resuming. The two of you had drifted apart this summer, you just rarely ever saw the girl in between your hectic work schedule and her dates with Steve, but from the first day of junior she’s helped you with your math equations and you’ve helped her with her english essays.

It’s a good trade off and you’ve enjoyed spending time with the girl. Unlike last year, Jonathan doesn’t join anymore. He can’t be too close with her now that she’s back with Steve. So, it’s just you and her for an hour every day during study hall. It’s nice, if you’re being honest.

Today though there’s something off with Nancy.

She’s been tapping her pencil on the table for the last few minutes. Right before you can politely ask her to stop, the tip of the pencil snaps in half. She sighs. “Shit,”

“There’s a sharpener over by the window,” you point towards the general direction. “Sharpen your pencil before these equations officially end my life.”

Nancy laughs, excusing herself and walks over to the sharpener.

You focus back on your homework, the equations swimming around in your brain. It’s not that you’re necessarily bad at math, but you’re no whiz at it either. You get lost in the practice problems, erasing and re-erasing frequently, and you don’t realize just how long Nancy has been gone until she returns. She sits down, and you’re about to make a horrible joke about how stupid it is to find x, when you notice how shaken Nancy looks.

“Woah, hey.” You set your pencil down and turn your attention to Nancy. “Are you okay? You look upset.”

Nancy looks towards one of the library’s private study rooms and you see Steve’s retreating figure. You gather that something’s happened between them, but it confuses you because they’ve been nothing but lovey dovey ever since they got back together. What could possibly cause strife between them?

“C’mon, you can talk to me. I’m known for my fantastic advice.” You probe again, and this time Nancy lets out a soft chuckle.

“It’s… complicated.”

“Take all the time you need. I’ve been stuck on question five for like, twenty minutes now. Any distractions are welcomed.”

Now Nancy lets out a genuine laugh and you find yourself laughing as well. The storminess behind her eyes from earlier has lessened, she looks more relaxed now. Once she’s done laughing, she takes a deep breath and starts from the beginning. “Steve and I have been having dinner with Barb’s parents.”

When Barb’s name leaves Nancy’s lips, you feel your stomach twist with guilt. Had you known this would be about Barb, you wouldn’t have pestered Nancy so much into speaking. You know how much she misses her best friend still, no one blames her.

“Well that sounds nice,” you try to comfort. “I’m sure they appreciate your company.”

Nancy bites her lip and looks away from you. “They wouldn’t if they knew Steve and I killed Barb.”

Shock washes over you. “Can I ask for some context?”

“Steve and I… When I forced Barb to come to his stupid party with me, we–we left her alone that night. By the pool…” Nancy’s voice cracks, and you grab her hand to encourage her to keep going. “We went upstairs to have sex, and Barb–she didn’t want me to leave her alone but I–I did and–”

You remember the photos Jonathan took last year, specifically the one where Barb had been sitting all by herself along the pool’s edge. Behind her had been a shadowy figure, a monster you soon would learn was from an alternate dimension with an intent to kill.

“You think Barb died because you left her alone to go have sex with Steve.” You finish for Nancy, her tears rendering her unable to say more.

She nods, looking away again as more tears stream down her face. You feel horrible for her, knowing first hand just how cruelly guilt can eat away at someone. Jonathan doesn’t know this, but you still think you’re the reason Will disappeared last year. You were the one who left him alone that night. If you had been there, if you had dropped him off at the Byers’ doorstep, you’re sure that he would’ve never ended up facing the horrors that he did.

As for Nancy, you understand everything she’s feeling and more. It isn’t fair how one simple choice, one moment of selfishness, can lead to such tragedy and pain.

Cautiously, you ask Nancy a question. “Does Steve know about the guilt you feel?”

“He knows, but he doesn’t understand.” Nancy’s voice laces with grief and bitterness. “He found me by the pencil sharpener. There was this girl, she looked so much like Barb and I just… I zoned out. I was stuck there, thinking about her, when he found me.”

“Did he notice you were upset?”

“Of course he noticed. He’s Steve, I could shed a single tear and he’d be all over me like I’m some baby.” Nancy scoffs, which makes you frown. You’re not sure what’s so wrong with that, having someone so attuned to your emotions because they love you that deeply.

You push aside your thoughts, however. “What happened, then?”

“We went into a study room and I snapped.” Nancy’s close to tears again. “I just… I want to tell Barb’s parents what really happened. They’re selling their house, Y/N. They’re selling their own home to afford this private detective who promised them he’d find out what happened to her. What–what kind of person would I be if I let my best friend’s parents go bankrupt for being worried about their only child?”

“Nancy…”

“And Steve, he just… He told me it was a bad idea, that–that our families could get hurt and all that bullshit, but what am I supposed to do? I’m trying to figure something out, to fix this, and Steve just wants to go to some stupid party and pretend everything is okay?” Nancy is almost shouting now, and you nervously look around to make sure you're not disturbing anyone. It’s still a library, after all.

Nancy takes a few seconds to collect herself, to steady her breathing and control her anger. You let her take all the time she needs, and when she seems calm enough, you speak. “I understand where you’re coming from and why you’re upset. What happened to Barb is despicable, but… Well, I also agree with Steve.”

“Y/N–”

“No, okay. Listen for a second,” you pause, trying to figure out exactly how to say what you’re thinking. “I think Steve means well, he doesn’t have a malicious bone in that silly body. The Halloween party can be a good thing for you if you let it, a way to destress. You have to move on, you have to allow yourself to move on.”

Nancy tries to argue some more but you continue. “I understand your guilt better than anyone else, I was the one who lost Will that night. But we all signed those contracts, Nancy. If we told anyone what really happened to Barb… It wouldn’t be fair to everyone who gets hurt, all our family members, because we broke a legal oath. You understand that, right?”

“I understand, but it’s not fucking fair.” Nancy’s eyes have a determination in them that startles you. You’ve always known that she was fierce, but seeing the edge in her eyes almost scares you. She’s angry, more than you’ve ever seen her before.

You sigh. “I know, I wish I could do more, but…”

Nancy nods, understanding that there’s not much else you guys can do. You hate to let her down like this, you know she needs to hear something else, to feel supported, but you don’t know what else to tell her.

Steve’s right in his own way, and so is Nancy.

“Can you at least come to the party tonight?” Nancy softly pleads. “It’s just, I’ll feel more comfortable with you there, like I’m less crazy… I mean, that is if you even want to come and–”

“Of course I’ll come, Nance.” You don’t even hesitate to promise her this, nor do you realize that you’ve just called her “Nance”. It slipped from your tongue naturally, as if solidifying your friendship with the girl. You hate parties and loud crowds, but if Nancy needs you there by her side, to hold her hand and remind her of how brave she is, then you’ll happily do so.

Nancy sinks into her seat, relieved. “Thank you, I owe you one.”

“I’ll hold you to that, you know.”

Nancy throws a piece of paper at you and you dodge it, throwing your pencil at her in retaliation. The two of you break out into a fit of giggles until the librarian eventually snaps at you guys and reminds you to be quiet.

You reluctantly get back to work, and as you’re writing down more complex equations, you notice that there’s still a far off look in Nancy’s eyes. You know that she’s still thinking about Barb, the guilt eating away at her, and you know that the topic is far from settled.

–

Halloween is in full swing the second Jonathan drops you off at home from school. There’s already kids milling around up and down your block in an assortment of costumes, all squealing with joy as they collect their candy.

“Meet you in two hours?” You ask Jonathan as you unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Yeah, but remember that I’m not wearing a costume.”

“C’mon, bee! It’s Halloween, where’s your holiday spirit?”

Jonathan groans. “Nag at me all you want, I’m not dressing up. I will, however, offer to be your arm candy.”

“That’s the spirit!” You kiss Jonathan’s cheek and run out of the car and straight into your house. You have two hours to wrap up goodie bags for the neighborhood kids and then get dressed in your costume. It’ll be a tight schedule, but luckily you’re off of work tonight.

It takes you about an hour to assort all your gift bags, separating the boys’ bags from the local kids’ bags, and before you know it you’ve successfully hand packaged goodie bags for an entire army. Once you’re done, you run to your room and throw on your costume. The dress slips over your head and settles gently over you.

You stand in front of your mirror and smile.

It’s perfect.

You’re going as Princess Buttercup tonight for Halloween. You read the Princess Bride around the end of summer and quickly fell in love with Buttercup. You’re not sure if you fell in love with the character because you read the book right after pushing Steve away, or because you saw yourself in Buttercup, but you came to adore her.

Buttercup may have been a bit ditzy, but she loved with everything within her, and with such a passion, that you couldn’t help but admire her. It was her love for others that ultimately drove the story further, and you think there’s something beautiful about that.

The red dress fits perfectly around you and you grab the gold chain that will serve as your belt. Once you’ve secured it around yourself, you place Buttercup’s golden circlet around your head. The costume had been pricier than you would’ve preferred, but as you stand in front of the mirror, you truly do feel like a princess.

Your bee necklace, a wonderful gift from Jonathan, catches light from your window and you smile, bringing your fingers up to the pendant. It’s the only jewelry you need.

“Y/N! Are you almost done? Will radioed that they’d be here soon.” Dustin pounds on your door.

You fling the door open. “I’m done, I just need to put on some makeup.”

Your brother makes a face as he walks into your room and plops himself down onto the beanbag. “You own makeup?”

“Yes, dear brother. I’d wear it more often if I had the time, but between herding you around and my school assignments, I can’t.” You dig through your makeup bag, opting for just mascara and a shimmery pearl eyeshadow. You’ll put on your lipstick in the car to save some time.

“This doesn’t have anything to do with Jonathan, does it?”

You roll your eyes at Dustin. “No, believe it or not I can choose to do things without the influence of others.”

“Hmm, alright. Hurry up though, Mike had this awesome plan to hit up every house with the big candy bars and–”

“Dustin!” You throw a pillow at the boy, shutting him up. “Shush so I can focus.”

He grumbles but remains silent, now watching as you put your makeup on. It’s been a while since you’ve last worn any, so you’re slower than usual. Just as you’re finishing up your mascara, a car honks outside.

Dustin runs out the room and you quickly grab your lipstick and follow after him. You’re wearing your mother’s mary janes again and they pinch your feet as you run, but whatever. You feel pretty tonight, you’re somebody else for now, a princess free from any burdens and stress.

Jonathan is standing outside his car, waiting for you, and when you see him you practically fling yourself in his arms. “You dressed as Westley!”

He spins you around a bit, his plastic sword hitting against his leg. “You wanted me to wear a costume, right?”

You nod, inspecting his costume with glee. He looks amazing, dressed in Westley’s iconic all black attire, his sword by his side, and a mask tied loosely around his neck. To anyone else, Jonathan would look like a regular guy with an affinity for black, but to you, he was dressed as your knight in shining armor.

He’s the Westley to your Princess Buttercup.

Jonathan kisses your knuckles. “Well then, as you wish.”

His words are smooth velvet against your skin, they warm you as the late October air encases you. As you wish, words that became their own I love you within the book. A promise, similar to the one Jonathan made you last year in the passenger seat of his car, pinkies intertwined.

Something stirs within you, seeing Jonathan’s proud smirk on his face because he’s once again managed to surprise you, and the feeling is sickly sweet like syrup. It runs through you slowly, covering every inch of you, and you bask in it.

For now, he’s still yours.

“Can we go now? You guys are gross.” Dustin calls from the car, annoyed.

You and Jonathan spring apart in embarrassment. He laughs, rubs the back of his neck, and tells you, “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

“Why thank you,” you curtsy. “You look rather dashing yourself, good sir.”

“I wasn’t kidding. You look… you’re beautiful.” The sincerity in Jonathan’s voice cuts through you, it cuts through everything between you, and you can only smile.

“Thanks, bee.” You try to keep your voice playful, light and airy as always. “Now, open my door like the brave hero you’re dressed as.”

Jonathan opens your door with a bow, causing you to laugh. You’re sitting in the backseat with Dustin, Will is in the passenger seat, and once you’ve buckled up, Will spins around in his seat to talk to you as Jonathan starts the car.

“Do you think it’s lame that you and Jonathan trick-or-treat with us?

You blink. “What did I miss?”

“I think it’s kinda lame,” Dustin voices next to you, but he lets out a pained squeak after you’ve elbowed his ribs.

Jonathan turns onto the main road and scoffs at the boys. “You think we’re lame?”

“No, but…” Will sinks into his seat, and you watch as he begins to fiddle with the strap of his bag. He’s nervous. “It’s not like Nancy’s coming to watch over Mike, you know?”

Jonathan’s silent, and you catch his eye in the rear view mirror. You know what he’s thinking: Will has been having even more problems in school, he’s sick of being babied, and yet here you guys are, babying him.

You sigh. “Look, Will. We like trick-or-treating with you guys, we don’t go are your babysitters. We go because it’s fun and I get to enjoy free candy as a seventeen year old.”

Will looks out the window and doesn’t acknowledge what you’ve said. You sigh again, knowing that nothing will appease him. He’s only allowed you to see a small portion of how much he’s struggled this year, but you can see his foundations crumbling.

How is he expected to adapt if you and everyone around him refuse to let him do so?

You catch Jonathan’s eye again in the rear view mirror and he seems to be thinking the same thing.

Mike and Lucas run out the Wheeler’s house as soon as you guys park in the driveway. Dustin immediately bolts out the door to greet them, obviously uncomfortable with all the tension, leaving you and Jonathan with Will.

Jonathan looks at you one last time and you nod your head in encouragement. He has to do this, he has to let Will grow on his own.

“Hey, listen.” Jonathan says, stopping Will from leaving. “If I let you go on your own, you promise to stay in the neighborhood?”

Will’s face lights up. “Yeah! Yeah, totally.”

“And be back at Mike’s by 9:00.”

“9:30?”

You reach over and pat Will’s back. “Now you’re pushin’ it, buddy.”

“What Y/N said. Be back by 9:00.” Jonathan instructs, but there’s a fond smile on his face. “Deal?”

“Deal!”

The brothers shake on it and you watch them with a smile. Jonathan hands Will one of Bob’s cameras and makes a poor Dracula joke and you love these boys so much. You wave goodbye to Will as he quickly gets out of the car and runs over to his friends. There’s a new skip in his step, he’s happier than you’ve seen him in a while.

“Alright,” you crawl over the passenger seat and plop yourself in rather ungracefully. “I’d say that went well.”

“We made the right choice, right?”

“I hope so.”

Jonathan sighs and watches the kids, who have now started hitting each other with their candy bags. You flip down the windscreen and use the small mirror in it to apply your lipstick. When Jonathan sees what you’re doing, he does a double take.

“Wait, are you putting on lipstick?”

“Mhm,” you knit your brows together, focused. “We’re going to a party.”

“We are?”

“Nancy begged me to come, and we just left the boys to go trick-or-treating on their own, so what else are we supposed to do tonight?”

“Nancy begged you to come–”

You finish your lipstick and flick Jonathan’s nose to shut him up. “Stop asking so many questions and just start the car, doofus.”

–

The Halloween party is in full swing by the time you and Jonathan arrive. There’s a bunch of drunk teens in an array of costumes, ranging from classic heroes to dumb movie references, and the music is so loud you could hear it while you were still five blocks away.

Jonathan parks the car and looks around wearily. “Are we really doing this?”

“Unfortunately I hate disappointing people, so yeah. We are.”

“One day your people pleasing needs will get you in trouble.”

“I will stab you with your plastic sword.”

“So sweet to me,” Jonathan quips, which you roll your eyes at.

As you’re walking to the front door, you hear a crowd chanting Billy’s name. You freeze, knowing it could only be that awful mullet guy from earlier, and quickly shove Jonathan inside the house.

“Who’s Billy?” He asks, confused.

You shake your head. “Don’t worry about it, let’s try to find Nancy–”

“Nice costume.” A girl dressed in goth attire interrupts you, her eyes only on Jonathan.

Oh great. Another girl interested in Jonathan.

Jonathan looks between you and the girl. “Huh?”

“Nice costume. Going as a goth with a sword?”

“Actually,” you step in front of Jonathan now, forcing the girl to acknowledge your presence. “We’re matching. He’s Westley, I’m Princess Buttercup. Do you like it?”

The goth girl rolls her eyes. “Yeah, totally.” She steps past you and faces Jonathan again. “I’m Samantha.”

Jonathan is again looking between you and the girl, this time with even more fear and confusion on his face, and you almost want to laugh at him in pity. He’s never had a girl so blatantly hit on him, it’s almost hilarious if you ignore the fact that you’re in love with him.

You leave Jonathan to handle the situation himself, scanning the room for Nancy. When you finally spot her, your heart sinks. She’s dancing with Steve, who looks fucking criminally good in his costume. You’re not sure who he’s dressed as, but he puts his Raybans in his mouth and smirks at Nancy and suddenly you understand why so many girls whisper in the halls about his lips.

Nancy looks even better, her white blouse accentuating her beauty even more. She’s dancing with her arms around Steve and now you suddenly really want a drink. Seems like they’ve made up, then.

Right as you’re about to pull Jonathan away from that Samantha girl and call it quits for the night, defeated and pride wounded, you see Steve and Nancy begin to argue over by the punchbowl.

Shit.

You head towards them, shoving past hoards of people who seem to refuse to move. Nancy sees you approaching and only seems to become more upset. Her movement is unsteady, her eyes droopy and glossed over, and even before you walk up to her you know she’s heavily drunk. She’s in a tug of war with Steve and a cup. It’s clear he’s trying to cut off her alcohol intake.

“Hey, Nancy is everything okay–” Your words are cut off as punch splashes all over her white blouse.

Everyone around the couple gasps, and you wince at all the attention. Everyone stares between you, Steve, and Nancy. You quickly find some napkins and begin blotting at her blouse, trying to get as much of the punch out of it, but she drunkenly bats you away.

“Don’t need help,” she slurs, but you shush her.

“I got it, why don’t we go get some water?”

Steve steps in front of you now, aware of the fact that everyone is still staring, and says his first words to you in months. “She’s my girlfriend, I’ll take care of her. Just… just go, Y/N.”

He dismisses you with a wave and you feel hurt wash over you. He hadn’t even spared you a single glance, he just treated you like some annoying fly in his way. You watch, defeated, as Steve guides Nancy to a room and you’re left alone at a party you hadn’t even wanted to go to in the first place.

How fun.

You crumble up one of the napkins in your hand and will away your anger. You don’t deserve to feel angry at Steve’s actions, you’re the one who was so dismissive of him in the first place. He’s just following along, doing what you’ve forced him to do.

As you’re lost in thought, Billy corners you in the kitchen.

“We meet again, sweetheart.” His breath reeks of alcohol and you cringe, the smell burning your nose.

“Didn’t I tell you to learn some goddamn personal space?”

Billy laughs dryly, stepping forward every time you take a step back. Too late, you realize what he’s doing. Before you can stop it, he has your back pressed against a nearby wall. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

You look around, but everyone who had been in the kitchen earlier seems to have left or are far too drunk to realize what’s happening. Billy is peering over you and every part of you wants to run away, to cower. You’ve never been able to handle aggressive men well, no matter how much of a front you put on around Lonnie, you always trembled when he was near.

Billy is no different, and he sees your unease. “Aw, is the princess nervous?”

“I’m surprised Max taught you what a princess looks like.”

At the mention of Max’s name, Billy’s cocky grin slips. Confusion masks his face now, making him appear more human than obnoxiously handsome. “So you know my little sister?”

You try to shove past him, but Billy plants his feet down and places both arms against the wall, trapping you. He’s surrounded you, he wants a reaction out of you. Taking a deep breath, you force yourself to steady your heartbeat and appear indifferent.

“I have my ways,” you shrug, but your heartbeat still pounds rapidly.

Billy raises an eyebrow. “Pretty and intelligent. Why, look at you. I’m impressed, and yet I still don’t know your name.”

You try again to move, but Billy leans his head down and brings his lips to your ear to whisper, “I’ll beg for it, if you want me to.”

“Get off–” He’s too close. He’s too fucking close and his lips against your ear makes you want to throw up, you don’t like this and you feel so fucking pathetic being cornered by such an egotistical asshole.

“Tell me your name, and I’ll go.” There’s a smile in Billy’s voice, you can hear it without even having to look, and it enrages you. You fucking hate men like him.

“Just get the fuck off of me–” You’ve closed your eyes now as you shove harshly against his chest.

Suddenly there’s a thud, a loud “oomph”, and a collective gasp from onlookers at the party. Your hands meet the air, there’s now no one there to push against. Slowly, open your eyes. There, standing in front of you, is Steve holding a very angry Jonathan back while Billy is on the ground.

Jonathan yanks his arm free from Steve and stands over Billy, who is laying on the ground with yet another unnerving smile on his face. Your friend shakes his fist out, which you now see is red, Billy’s face showcases a matching mark. “She told you to get off of her.”

A silence falls over the crowd.

Billy slowly stands up, wipes himself off, and then takes a bow. “Not bad, loner boy.”

Jonathan tries to step closer to him, but Steve grabs his shirt and shakes his head. “He’s not worth it, man.”

“And what do you know about worth, Harrington?” Billy chuckles, now practically in Steve’s face. “Where’s that little girlfriend of yours? You should go ask her what she thinks you’re worth.”

Steve’s face hardens, but you can see dried tears in his eyes. Seeing him about to crumble, you step between the boys. “Enough.”

They look at you, but you ignore them and then wave to the crowd of people still watching. “Show’s over! Go back to drinking away your sorry fucking lives.”

Jonathan pulls you close to him. “Bug, are you okay? Did he hurt you? We need to go home, I’ll bake you brownies and we can just–”

Jonathan’s concerned rambling is enough to make you smile, albeit faintly. “I’m fine, bee.”

Billy observes the interaction, he notices how Steve’s eyes flicker between your interlocked hands with Jonathan and the way your hair frames your pretty face. He sees it all, and he understands exactly what’s happening here.

“Oh, Harrington.” Billy can’t wait to see what happens next. “You’re fucked.”

Steve watches as Billy leaves, confused by his words but too tired to think much of them. He’s had the worst fucking night of his life. His girlfriend just told him she doesn’t love him, then he came outside to see Billy pressing himself against you like some fucking creep. He hadn’t even gotten to help you, Jonathan had beaten him to it. All Steve could do was hold the guy back afterwards.

Now Jonathan is holding your hands and whispering comforting words to you and you’re dressed in Steve’s favorite color, your lips an even prettier red, you’re wearing a goddamn tiara on your head like the princess you truly are, and Steve’s had just about enough of tonight.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Y/N.” Steve tells you tiredly. He then turns to Jonathan. “Uh, Nance and I sorta… Can you just, give her a ride home? She doesn’t…”

Steve’s words catch in his throat and you grab his hand before you can stop yourself. “He’ll take her, won’t you, Jonathan?”

Jonathan stumbles over his words. “Sure, uh. Yeah, I can do that… What about you, though?”

You think about your conversation with Nancy earlier, how she seemed so upset with Steve, and how not even ten minutes ago they’d been fighting over by the punchbowl. There’s a hurt between them, one you think may be too big to patch up with just one conversation, but Jonathan doesn’t know all of this.

“I’ll drive Steve home.”

Both boys stare at you like you’re insane, and honestly? You can’t blame them.

You haven’t spoken to Steve in months, and Jonathan knows this better than anyone.

“Y/N,” Steve lowers his voice. “I haven’t had anything to drink, there’s no need–”

“Too bad. I’m taking you home. Jonathan, go find Nancy and make sure she gets back okay.”

Jonathan and Steve try to argue, but you yank Steve’s hand and make him come with you. It’s long past time the two of you had a talk, anyways.

–

When you exit the house, the weight of everything that’s just happened catches up to you. Your skin still feels raw, Billy’s presence lingering on you. Steve’s hand is warm in yours, but he isn’t holding on the way you secretly hoped he would. Jonathan’s confused and concerned eyes remain in the back of your mind, the image of him standing alone in the party makes you feel guilty.

But you have to do this. You’re tired of being a coward.

Steve is silent as he guides you to his car. He’s parked pretty far, which you hadn’t been expecting. “What, do you not get a special parking spot as King Steve?”

He ignores your attempt at a joke and instead drops your hand.

Okay. You deserved that.

When you get to his car, Steve throws you the keys and silently gets into the passenger seat. You inhale, willing this to end well, and get in the driver’s seat. You start the car and the engine warms your fingertips.

You start to drive.

Steve is looking out the window, and you’ve never seen him appear so small. He’s closed into himself, his shoulders are hunched and his carefree smile from earlier is gone.

“Not to make this awkward, but I kinda don’t know where you live.” You break the silence.

“Make a left up here.”

“Do you want to talk about what happened tonight–”

“Why do you only ever care about me when I’m some kicked fucking puppy?”

Steve’s words are vicious, and you flinch at his tone. “You know that’s not true,”

“It’s not?” He scoffs at you. “Then explain what happened this summer.”

“I…” You can’t.

Steve sees your reluctance to say anything and lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, whatever. Some real fucking friend you were.”

You take a shaky breath. You knew this would be hard, but it still hurts more than you thought it would’ve. While you can’t tell Steve everything, you can offer him a half truth. It’s all you can afford, and it isn’t nearly half of what he deserves, but it’s all you can do. “I got scared.”

Your confession causes Steve to turn to you. “Scared?”

“Yeah, scared.”

“Gee, Y/N. That really explains a ton.”

You’re losing him again, so you offer him more. “I’m sorry, Steve. I really am. It’s just… I got scared, I’ve never been good at letting people in. I know it doesn’t excuse my actions, and you didn’t deserve any of it, but you just… You scared me.”

Steve is silent again, only mumbling a quiet, “Turn right after this light.”

“Look,” you push down your fear, you need him to hear you. “You came crashing into my life in such a violent way, and it became the best goddamn thing that happened to me. There you were, spending every day at my job just to talk to me. You asked me questions about myself and noticed things no one else had before and I just… I couldn’t do it.”

You look over at Steve and soften your voice, putting every ounce of your guilt and sincerity into your words. “I missed you.”

“Missed?” There’s something in Steve’s voice that you can’t quite decipher, it’s almost too delicate to examine.

“Miss. I miss you,” you correct, and it takes everything within you not to confess more. To tell him you miss how his eyes turn a warm toffee in the late afternoon light, that you miss his obsession with his mom’s banana bread and that you have a recipe at home that you never got to make for him. You almost tell him that even though you pulled yourself away, you can’t seem to separate him from you. He’s everywhere.

But what you can’t tell Steve, what would break you if he ever found out, is that you’ve come to love how he’s everywhere.

Steve is silent, and you swallow down your tears. It wasn’t enough, but at least you tried.

As you turn into his driveway, Steve finally speaks. “All my life, all I’ve ever wanted was for people to like me.”

“Steve…”

“And every time I think someone finally likes me, I’m wrong. They leave me. I mean, you left me without a fucking word, Nancy lied about loving me, and my bullshit friends at school have replaced me with Billy.”

Nancy lied about loving him?

Steve looks down at his hands, his eyelashes are wet with fresh tears. “I don’t know what I keep doing wrong.”

You throw yourself across the car’s console and wrap yourself around the boy. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Steve places one arm around you, then slowly he places his other, and for the first time in months you’re finally back in his arms. He’s surrounded in you again, and he never, ever wants to let you go.

“You won’t leave me again?”

Steve asks this so softly, as if too scared to bring the words into the light and risk them scaring you away. You tighten your arms around him and bury your nose into his neck, his cologne making your brain dizzy. “Never.

And it’s enough for now.

The pieces settle between you and Steve. Something clicks into place and you know that he feels it, too. He tightens his own arms around you, draws small circles against your back, and you stay like that for what feels like hours.

Eventually the two of you break apart and head into his house. He offers you something warm to drink, but you decline. It’s late, you should be heading home soon. You ask Steve where his phone is and then call Jonathan, telling him to come get you from Steve’s.

Jonathan doesn’t ask any questions, his own voice sounding off on the phone. You know that tomorrow you’ll have to explain to him what happened with Steve, and he’ll have to explain what’s happened with Nancy. But tonight, you both settle on ignoring the topic for now.

Steve waits with you downstairs for Jonathan.

“If we’re going to be friends again, then I demand my nickname.”

You look up at the boy and laugh. “What if I told you I still haven’t figured it out yet?”

“Can you at least give me a hint?” Steve bats his eyelashes at you and you shove him away with another laugh.

“Hm,” you think for a moment, reveling in the simplicity between you two again. “It’s lovely. That’s all I can say.”

Steve makes a face. “Lovely? That’s all I get?”

“Mhm.” You poke his face. “For now, please just trust that I’ll stay.”

Steve looks away for a moment, and you admire his lovely side profile, before he finally seems to settle on his thoughts. “Fine, but I expect some type of baked good every day from here on out.”

“Deal.” You raise your pinky and offer it to Steve, who smiles and shakes his head, but wraps his own pinky around yours.

Steve’s eyes are still red, from exhaustion and heartbreak, and yours are probably no better. You know there’s so much the two of you have to face tomorrow morning, to talk about and deal with. Nancy, Jonathan, Billy. But for now, Steve’s pinky is around yours and you couldn’t ask for a better end to your night.

It’s a start.

It’s all you could’ve asked for.

Jonathan arrives later and waits in the car, seeming to sense that you want some privacy as you say goodbye to Steve.

“That’s my ride.” You nudge him. “Oh, don’t think I forgot about the Nancy thing. We’ll talk about that tomorrow.”

“What–”

“We’re friends again and I nag all my friends about their emotions. You were spared last year, but this year? Buckle up, buddy.”

Steve lets out a tired laugh. “Do I have to sign another contract?”

“Nah, you just have to trust me.”

“I do.” He says, no ounce of hesitation.

You squeeze his hand. “Then that’s all I need. Goodnight, Steve. Get some rest.”

Steve nods and watches as you walk towards Jonathan’s car. He stays outside for a while, long after the car has faded in the distance. The cold air makes him shiver, but after everything that’s happened tonight, he welcomes it. His mind is spinning, he’s not sure if he feels more heartbreak or relief, but he decides he doesn’t care.

For now, he’s content.

Now that he has you in his life again, no matter what happens between him and Nancy, he knows he’ll get through it with you holding his hand.

–

The drive home is quiet. Both you and Jonathan seem to be lost in your own thoughts. When you get to your house, you simply tell your friend, “Tomorrow. We’ll talk about it all tomorrow,”

Jonathan nods, his eyes as tired as yours. “Tomorrow.”

You walk inside your house and notice all the lights off. You’re home later than you originally planned, your mom must be asleep already. You kick off your shoes and sigh tiredly. Tonight has exhausted you.

However, you feel bad about skipping out on the boys, so you walk towards Dustin’s room and quietly knock on the door to apologize. After a few knocks, Dustin cracks his door open. “Yes?”

“Hey, just wanted to ask how tonight…” You notice Dustin’s stance, how he seems to almost be trying to block your view of something. “Is everything alright?”

Your brother quickly repositions himself. “Fine! Nothin’ to see here!”

He’s definitely acting suspicious.

“Open the door, show me what’s inside.”

You go to shove your way in, but Dustin scrambles and ends up shouting, “Will had another episode tonight!

“What?” You freeze.

Dustin lets out a breath of relief. He knew using Will’s episode would be a good distraction from what he has in his room. “Will, he had another episode. He’s fine, though… Just thought you should know.”

“Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

“Actually,” Dustin lets out a yawn. “I’m kinda tired. Ya know, trick-or-treating is hard work. Can we just call it a night and talk about it tomorrow?”

“I mean, I guess?” Your list of things you need to talk about tomorrow keeps growing.

“Sweet! Goodnight, Y/N!” And with that, Dustin slams his door in your face. He presses his back pressed against his door as he steadies his heartbeat. That was close, too close. After a couple seconds, he walks over to his turtle’s tank and greets Dart again. “Sorry buddy, had to get Y/N away. She’d freak if she found out about you.”

Dart lets out a small screech in response.

“Wonder how long I can keep this from her.”

Meanwhile, you stand in the hall for a moment, completely bewildered as to what’s just happened. It feels like you missed a few important details. There’s something happening, but you have no idea what.

You go to your room and make a plan. Tomorrow, you’ll order a code blue with Dustin and demand information. For now, all you can do is get ready for bed and hope that whatever he’s hiding, it isn’t as monumental as El had been.

Tonight, you go to bed thinking of Nancy and Steve, worried about them both.

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chronicowboy · 1 year

Text

The ambulance carrying Chimney trundles away, and Hen retreats to where Buck and Eddie are huddled for a breather. She gives Eddie a light tap on the back as she joins them, and he wraps an arm around her shoulders in what she assumes is half reassurance and half leverage to keep himself upright.

Honestly, Hen is just impressed he's still standing. Its been one hell of a day.

"How'd he look?" Buck asks, face locked tight into careful neutrality.

"Well, he was cracking jokes with Julie." Hen smiles shakily, the feel of her best friend's blood on her hands making her skin itch.

"He'll be okay," Eddie tells them both, quiet conviction in his voice. "He's got too much to live for."

Hen watches the look Buck and Eddie share with curiousity. Its a loaded look full of unspoken words Hen could never hope to understand. But then Buck nods, his shoulders lose just the slightest bit of tension, and he turns back to the rubble.

"We've got more work to do," he says gravely. His eyes flicker to Eddie's hand where its pressed against his ribs. "You can sit this one out, Eds. I really think you should."

"We need all the help we can get, Buck." Eddie shakes his head and pushes off Hen to steady himself. "I'll take frequent breaks, but I'm not stopping until I have to."

Buck clenches his jaw, but before he can protest their radios crackle to life.

"Firefighter Diaz, do you copy?"

"Linda?" Eddie frowns, and Hen feels a sickening stone of dread drop right through her stomach.

"Eddie." Linda's voice wobbles, and Hen's chest tightens. "Eddie, I'm so sorry. I just got a call from Christopher."

For a moment, the scene goes deathly silent. Hen can only hold her breath and remember the way the world had dropped out from under her when she'd got the call about Karen's lab.

"W-what?" Eddie croaks, eyes wide and unfocused.

Hen reaches out to grab Eddie's hand, glances to see where Buck's comfort is, always the first one to be at Eddie's side. She knows its a mistake the moment she looks at him. Captain Buck has vanished, replaced instead by the sodden, dirty, bloodied Buck they'd found in the aftermath of a tsunami. Tiny, shaking, frozen with fear.

"Christopher was under the bridge when it collapsed," Linda carries on, words trembling. "He's stuck in there."

"Is he-" Eddie chokes back a sob, chest heaving with his breaths, and rolls his eyes up skywards. "Is he still on the line?"

"Yeah, do you want to talk to him?"

"Please," Eddie rasps.

But before Linda can patch him through, there's an almighty grumble like the earth itself is growling and another section of the bridge collapses in on itself.

Hen throws her arms out on instinct, unwilling to lose anymore of her team to this goddamned bridge, but its useless. Eddie's too weak with pain and shock to do much more than nudge her, and Buck's still frozen in place. But Eddie's scream. Well, that's not something Hen will ever be able to forget.

She'd thought the way he screamed Buck's name on the ladder had been bad. But now Eddie's half hunched over as he screams his lungs out, a thing so primal that Christopher's name is almost unrecognisable where it falls from his lips. Hen feels his grief all the way down to her bones as she catches Eddie before his buckling knees can hit the floor.

He's heavy, too heavy for her aching arms, and she looks to Buck for help only to find an empty spot.

"Please," Eddie whispers over and over, voice wet and raw.

Hen follows his gaze and finds Buck at the fresh wall of rubble, tearing chunks of debris away with nothing more than his bear hands. She blinks, expecting to find herself in darkness and soaked to the bone by rain, but Buck is screaming Christopher's name not Eddie's.

Hen lowers Eddie to the floor, propping him up against the car and making sure he has a clear view of Buck's frantic work. She turns just in time to watch Buck bark orders at a group of gathered firefighters, but then he's right back to scrabbling through the rubble and screaming his lungs out.

"Linda," Hen murmurs into her radio, "is Chris still with you?"

There's a pause. Too long. Hen squeezes her eyes shut tight.

"T-the call hasn't ended, but..." A deep breath. "He's not answering me."

Hen curses quietly to herself, sends a prayer up to a god she doesn't believe in, then turns back to Eddie, his eyes still fixed on Buck with something desperate and pleading. Her eyes drop, unable to stomach the expression of pure anguish on his face, and she finds Eddie's gloved hand wrapped around his St Christopher medallion.

She wants to promise him that Christopher will be okay, wants to promise him that he'll make it out the other side, wants to make a hundred promises that she absolutely shouldn't. But Hen loses her own voice when she thinks about how she'd react if it was Denny under tonnes and tonnes of bridge.

The next thing she knows, Buck is calling out for a gurney with a hoarse voice and diving into a hole in the wall of rubble. Hen wonders if he realises he doesn't have a helmet on or if he just doesn't care. She watches the small opening with baited breath, gripping Eddie's hand as tight as she can possibly manage.

Its a long five minutes before Buck emerges from the hole with a dust-covered body in his arms. The sob that bubbles out of Eddie is almost as haunting as his scream. Buck cradles Christopher against his chest like he's the most precious thing in the world as he picks his way through the chaos towards them. Sooner than Hen can comprehend, Buck is falling to his knees by Eddie's side, his own eyes glassy with tears.

"Hey, buddy," Buck chokes out, "told you I'd get you to dad."

"Chris," Eddie sobs, reaching out for him. Buck doesn't miss a beat, manoeuvring himself and Chris closer so that Eddie can hold his son without aggravating his injuries. "Hey, Chris. Hey, I'm here."

"Dad?" Chris mumbles weakly, but for the smile that breaks across Eddie's face you'd think it was the most beautiful sound in the world.

"Yeah, mijo, I'm here." Eddie shakes a glove off to brush the curls off of Christopher's forehead, and Hen waves the paramedics with the gurney over. "I've got you. You're gonna be okay."

Hen makes the mistake of looking at Buck again, and her eyes fill with sharp tears at what she finds. Buck, the gentle giant, cradling Christopher with the most care in the world, and looking down at father and son like they're the reason he's still breathing, his heart is still beating. Buck watching Eddie murmur reassurances to Christopher like he's just found faith for the first time in his life, like a resurrection, like this is why he came back from the dead.

The gurney breaks them from the moment, and Hen helps Eddie to his feet as Buck lays Christopher down. Eddie takes his hand the moment he's upright and he's staggering along with them to the ambulance before he's even steady on his feet.

Hen watches them roll Christopher into the rig, watches Eddie climb in after him, watches as Eddie turns to catch Buck's eyes just before the doors close between them. Hen doesn't have to know Buck and Eddie's secret language to know that that look meant thank you. She turns to Buck, a few steps in front of her, suddenly looking lost in all the debris. When she lays a hand on his shoulder, he clears his throat and sniffles before composing himself.

"Back to work," he mutters and then he's off again.

Hen hears her own voice echoed in her head: are you capable of being a father and walking away?

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graves4girls · 7 months

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what day is it 👀

☆ 18+ FΛSHION | miguel o'hara

✮ wc. 2.2k ⚠︎ warning(s): 18+, masturbation, kinda meangirl!reader but not really (?), little bit of degradation (m receiving), fem!reader IT'S OCTOBER FUCKING THIRD !! mean girls day bitches wasn't planning on writing this but i have been meaning to write a meangirl!reader x miguel for awhile, (inspo taken from @nymphomatique mig fics btw they're so perf) and what better day to do it than today ?? ⟡ be sure to check out my work on ao3 → gravesforgirls !!

You'd dragged him to the mall, insisting you were in desperate need of new clothes–which you both knew was a complete lie.

Your heels click against the shiny tiled floor of the mall as you pull him along to yet another store, hugging his arm as he grumbles under his breath. If he weren't built like a greek god, you'd might have felt bad making him carry all your bags, but what were boyfriends for if not to spoil you and treat you like a princess?

"Babe, we've been walking around for two hours already. What more could you possibly need to get?"

He frowns down at you as you pull him toward a rack chock-full of pink, skimming through the clothes as you click your tongue.

"Stop whining. I'll tell you when I'm done. What about this?"

You pull a satin mini skirt from the rack, holding it out to him as he sighs, eyeing the tiny article with a slight pout, shrugging.

"It's cute."

You slip the hanger under your arm to sift through more shades of pink, popping a hip out as you flip through each article. You can feel his eyes on you, running along your figure as he towers behind you, guarding you from any prying eyes.

You wander to another tall rack, manicured fingers feeling the soft material of each dress as he follows you.

"That one's pretty."

You stop on the baby blue sundress, picking it off the rack and analyzing the piece, giving him a look.

"You know I don't wear loose shit. The color's cute, though."

You shove it back in its spot and continue flipping through the dresses, pulling another down and smiling as you turn to him.

"This one is super cute. And it's only thirty dollars."

His eyes run over the short, baby pink halter dress, quirking an eyebrow. "Only?"

You roll your eyes and swivel on your heel, hooking the hanger on your hand. "C'mon. I wanna look at the shoes."

He drops his shoulders as he stays hot on your heels, nearly knocking over a display with your bags as he squeezes between the narrow aisles. You nearly squeal at the shiny heels propped on a pedestal, immediately reaching for them and admiring them in your hands, and he can swear your eyes are sparkling when you spin around to beam at him.

"I've been waiting months for them to release these! I have to get a pair."

You bend down to grab your size, grinning at him as you take a step closer.

"See? If we had left earlier, I wouldn't have even known they had these." You hook a finger over the collar of his shirt to pull him down, pressing a short kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I wanna go try everything on. C'mon." You hook your arm around his, pulling him to the fitting rooms.

"Miguel?" You emerge from the stall to find him slouched back on the little bench, scrolling through his phone. "Miguel, look!"

You set your hands on your hips as you shift your weight, tapping his leg with the toe of your high heel, and he slowly looks up from the screen to smile at you, reaching a hand out to feel the shiny fabric of the mini skirt.

"Pretty. It's kinda short though, no? You can't really do anything but stand in it." He mutters as you spin, big hand splaying over your hip as his eyes lift to look up at you.

You shrug, brushing his hand away.

"That's fashion, babe." He hums, and you soften for a moment, running a hand through his soft curls. "One more thing to try on, then we can go. Promise." You drop a kiss to the top of his head, turning and skipping back into the dressing room before he can pull you down for a proper kiss.

You nestle your hand in his hair as you step in front of him, tilting his head up to pull his attention from his phone, and he loses his words in his throat for a moment as he takes you in. His eyes run over the way the tight garment hugs your curves, ogling at the way your breasts nearly spill out of the plunging neckline, gliding down to the short hem that gently squishes against your thighs

"You like it?" You grin down at him, the answer so glaringly obvious.

He nods dumbly, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he slowly lifts his gaze, so desperately wanting to devour you right then and there.

"Estás preciosa. Give me a spin."

He leans back as you slowly twirl around, expressing his admiration with a quiet whistle as you roll your eyes, stepping closer to push a hand against his chest.

"You're such a dog. Behave." You let your hand caress his jaw, holding his chin as his eyes continue to wander.

"Can't help that I have the hottest girlfriend in the world. Dame un beso, muñeca."

You press your hand over his mouth as you nudge his head back, playful smile tugging at your lips as you shake your head. "Not now. If you're good, maybe you'll get one later."

He's pouting when you pull your hand away, sighing as you let go of him to retreat back into the dressing room.

He looks tired, and you do feel a bit bad as he hoists the bags into the back seat of the car with a long sigh, closing your door as he rounds the car. You reach a hand over his shoulder when he plops in the driver seat, acrylic nails massaging his scalp as you lean over the console, pressing a glossy kiss to his cheek.

"How about a nice warm shower when we get home? You look tense." Your other hand comes up to massage his big shoulder, tilting your head as he looks at you.

"Sounds perfect." His eyes run over your face for a second, catching on your pretty, plump lips. "Do I get my kiss now?"

You chuckle quietly as he stares at you, pretty brown eyes silently pleading. You take pity on him, lifting a hand to lay against his cheek as you kiss him, and he melts into you almost instantly, humming against your soft lips. His teeth tug at your bottom lip when you try to pull back, giggling at his sudden feverish nature as his big hand grabs at your waist, fingertips warm against the sliver of skin that peeks out from between the hem of your top and skirt. Your hand falls from his cheek to press your palm against his strong chest, your other hand slipping around his neck to press him closer.

His cheeks are flushed when you finally pry yourself from his bruising kiss, eyes glazed over and lips swollen as his heavy eyelids lower seductively. God, was he perfect.

"What's that look for, hm?"

The hand on his chest slowly glides down his abdomen, rubbing over his stomach as he bites his bottom lip.

"Nothin'. Just admiring you."

You purse your lips, tilting your head as your hand falls to cup him through his jeans, pulling a low groan from his throat as his eyebrows pinch together.

"Is that so?" Your fingers gently fondle him through the thick fabric, pressing your palm against him as he sighs. "You're a bad liar, y'know. Don't think I didn't notice this when we were leaving. You liked the dress that much, huh?"

He can't pull together a coherent sentence when your delicate fingers are rubbing at him, the barrier between you frustratingly exciting as his hips jerk forward, head falling back against the headrest. You watch his breath quicken as his chest rises and falls, legs spreading to give you more room to touch him. You lean over the console to press a trail of kisses down the side of his neck, lip gloss staining his tan skin as your fingertips carefully unbuckle his belt, popping the button of his jeans and pushing the zipper open. You stall your actions when he thrusts up into your touch, instead sliding your hand under his shirt to feel along his abs, toned and warm under your fingertips.

"Control yourself. Stop acting like a fucking mutt."

His head slowly turns to look at you, cheeks hot and flushed as he pouts. "I'll be good, baby. I promise. Por favor…" His hand wraps around your bicep, wanting more than anything for you to just stuff your hand down his pants already.

You let him steal a quick kiss before pushing him back, patting his cheek. "God, you're such a little bitch. What would your friends say if they saw you like this? All whiny and begging for me to touch you."

He groans when your hand slips into his briefs, pushing the elastic down and watching the way his cock bounces up against his stomach, already dribbling and begging for attention as it twitches. You run a light fingertip up the underside of his shaft, reveling in the little sighs and grunts that escape him as he strains himself to keep still, gnawing at his bottom lip. He snakes a hand under your arm to grab at your knee, squeezing your thigh when you run a finger over his slit, thumbing at the sensitive head.

"C'mere."

You lean your elbow on the console to kiss him, and he moans into your mouth when your fingers wrap around him, giving a slow, weak tug as he sucks on your bottom lip. Your free hand blindly searches for the big palm settled on your thigh, pulling it up to grab at your chest instead. He eagerly palms at the swell for a while until he gets bored of the lack of skin in his hands, tugging the neckline of your cropped cami down to set your bare chest on full display, big hand groping at you as he mutters something unintelligible against your lips. He pinches a nipple between his rough fingertips, grinning when a soft sigh escapes your lungs, dropping his head to litter your collarbone in wet kisses. Your fingers comb through his tousled brown curls, arching into his hot touch when he closes his mouth around your nipple, sucking at the sensitive bud with another low groan.

Your hand lazily glides up and down his thick shaft, occasionally dropping lower to roll his balls in your palm, giving a gentle squeeze whenever he gets too excited and jerks his hips up into your fist. He's a mumbly, hot mess below you, muttering mindless praise into your skin as he mouths at your tits, big hand clutching at your waist when your wrist twists faster. You watch the way your hand quickly jerks up and down his big cock, the pretty flushed head shiny with smeared pre-cum as it throbs in your hold, thighs twitching whenever your fingers swirl around the tip.

"Keep going, baby. Wanna come. Please, mamí, please."

He's whining, stuffing his face in your neck as he pleads. You swipe a thumb over his sensitive slit, fingers massaging the back of his neck.

"You're gonna come already? I've barely even touched you, and you're already about to bust. You are so pathetic." You hum quietly, letting him bite at your soft skin. "Go ahead. Fuck my hand like a fuckin' slut. Show me how desperate you are."

He doesn't need to be told twice, hips greedily chasing your fist as it nearly pulls off of him, slumped back against the seat as he heedlessly bucks up, hips hovering over the seat. He pants into the stuffy air, big hand clawing at your sweater as he cries out another moan.

"Thank you, baby. You're so good to me. Fuck, I love you so much. Thank you–"

You roll your eyes at his blabbering, shutting him up with another heated kiss, craning his neck back as he whimpers against you. The car rocks with every rough jolt of his hips, no doubt catching unwanted attention from other shoppers in the lot. Thank God he has tinted windows.

His hand digs into your hair to keep your lips on his as his thighs tense, hips erratically jerking up into your fist as he huffs into your mouth. He pulses in your hand, angrily flushed as he desperately searches for relief, abs tightening and chest heaving as he teeters on the edge.

With one more aggressive jerk of his hips he's coming, spurting white ribbons across his shirt and down the side of his shaft, spilling over your fingers as you slow your hand to a stop. He sighs and grunts as he slouches against his seat, hips dropping with a deep breath as he slowly pulls his head back, eyeing the mess in his lap before bringing his gaze up to find you licking your fingers clean, and he swears he almost gets hard again from just the sight of you lapping at the mess, tits still peeking out of your shirt as you raise an eyebrow.

"Stop staring and clean yourself up. I have shit to do."

#m.ohara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #across the spider verse

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mowu-moment · 2 months

Text

ranking food tokens by how much personally i want to eat them

- Throne of Eldraine -

i have reason to distrust this meat pie thing, not only because of its wails of anguish but it also seems to have burst a bit in the oven. still not honestly opposed, at least the dishes are clean. 5/10.

how does one unpeel a curly banana? why are there sliced-open fruits on what appears to be a stone in the woods? where is the light coming from? i'm going to be taken by the fae and it's not even gonna taste too good while i'm at it, these things look dirty. but idk i don't mind someone else taking the wheel of my life rn. 2/10.

again, concerns about the floor food, but at least it looks more like some deliverygirl got eaten by a wolf and dropped her basket than a trap. someone already took a bite, though, maybe i should leave it be. 4/10

i have been invited to the Goblin King's Feast and while i don't fully agree with his choices i will certainly partake. boar looks wonderful apart from the hair. 7/10

- Commander 2020 / Strixhaven Commander -

i'm pretty sure cattails are poisonous to humans (not to mention the actual poisons in there) so i unfortunately can't oblige gyome's swamp soup. that crusty bread looks pretty nice though. i'll pick this thing apart like high school cafeteria lunch. 3/10.

- Modern Horizons 2 -

i at least know who cooked this one, and i trust asmor a decent bit, but this is still food for demons, so maybe it's not too good for me. goddamn do i wanna know what it tastes like though. 4/10.

- Unfinity -

i'm considering these two together. as a filthy american, i am allured by these fat-filled foods, but as a lad with a tiny stomach, i doubt i could eat enough to feel good about not wasting it. astrotorium's about excess, goddamn. the only funfair burger i've had was the best thing i had eaten in months, but it also made me ill the rest of the day. i really do want some infinity fries though, those look like the golden mean between a steak fry and a curly fry. 6/10.

- March of the Machine Commander -

meanwhile this looks like a texture nightmare. like i respect it, i imagine it's filling and fulfilling, but i don't think i ever could eat more than a bite or two. bread looks a little worse than gyome's but only a little. 5/10.

- Lord of the Rings: Tales of Middle-Earth -

my white ass loves a charcuterie board. and i'm not going to be intimidated out of it by not eating enough, since it's all in snack-sized bits already. definitely gonna overindulge this sucker. i'm nervous about some of those spreads though. 9/10.

this looks like i'm in a dream, is it actively cooking? or still hot? i can't identify what's in that pan anyway. i'm leaving it alone out of respect. wouldn't mind a drink though. 2/10.

this is not food. for humans. 0/10.

- Wilds of Eldraine -

this is a king's feast i am properly intimidated by. i'm more into it than the Goblin King's, particularly that triple-layer blueberry pie or whatever that is, but i'm going to have to be as polite as possible lest i get a face full of flaming beer. 8/10

i'll probably be eaten before this can eat me, and it barely looks like food, but at least i go down with sugar in the mouth. 1/10.

ogh. that egg looks divine. the bread looks amazing, there's a full glass, i've got like beans or mermaid tears everywhere. we've even got seasonings back there. the best damn breakfast i'll ever have. 10/10.

i would still probably eat this over nothing. there's onion, at least. i will either be hexed or violently ill, but like i could at least get it down. and maybe the witchmother is testing my strength and she'll reward me after slurping an eyeball. a convenient lie to tell myself. 2/10.

- Doctor Who Commander -

y'know, four, i think i would like a copyrighted candy. they look sad and british, which is on point. but like it's not actively killing me like half of these. i think anyway. i don't know doctor who. 6/10.

what is this? i have no idea. custard? raw batter? giant dunkaroo? is he dipping fishsticks? it doesn't look like it's done cooking, like do we need to put it in a fryer again? i'd say it's inedible but it's not poison stew so i have to be nice. 4/10.

get AWAY from me. this is a PERSONAL vendetta. i would rather try to eat spiderwebs. plus he's already eaten half of it. -10/10.

- Fallout Commander -

i can't be too mean since this is literally apocalypse food. i think i prefer this over poison stew? like i recognize it at least, even if it's foul and moldy. man has to eat something. 3/10

i'm not convinced there's actual soda in here. is this just a perspective shot or is this a giant prop soda? i don't like cola anyway. again, worth it in an apocalypse i suppose. 4/10

this soda i trust even less. it glows? does this give me magic powers in the fallout world or does it just kill me slowly? i think it'll kill me slowly anyway. i need fluid to survive in apocalypseland but damn i hate for it to come to this. 2/10.

#mtg #i haven't had breakfast yet today so this is driving me a little looney

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bella-rose29 · 4 months

Text

Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - Part 2

To make this work (I'm sorry) the reader has a very large family, and they will have names (I genuinely cannot be asked to try and figure that out and make it entirely... non OC)

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: swearing, lockwood and children so beware your hearts, lockwood gets hugged and can't deal with it, the family members are mean, reader doesn't eat much, lockwood is still a bit of an arse and so is the reader (but hers is more justified), proofread maybe once

series master list

So far, it had absolutely been a shitshow.

Lockwood had remained silent for the next hour and a half of the train journey, and with not much else to do but plan every tiny detail of their fake relationship Y/n thought she might be going mad.

Luckily they already knew a lot about each other, so they could get away with not going over basic details about the other's life, but Y/n hadn't talked much about her family to anyone other than George in rants after phone calls with them, so if they thought that she was talking shit about them behind their backs (which she was, but they didn't need to know that) then they would descend like vultures.

She was disrupted from her thoughts when Lockwood stood up from the table seats they'd managed to get, his leg kicking at hers as he manoeuvred into the aisle, not sparing a second glance at Y/n. She frowned, about to call after him and ask where he was going, but when he disappeared out the doors and into the next carriage she decided that she didn't really care, and at least he wasn't brooding in her field of vision.

Y/n had barely been on her own for a minute when a family of five came into the carriage (they must have got on at the station they had recently stopped at), and with her being the only one sat on a table on her own and all the others taken, they made for her. She swallowed, for once wishing Lockwood was here to make her look less selfish, and sat up a little straighter in her seat.

"Excuse me, but would you mind moving? We've got three kids and need somewhere for us all to sit, and since there's only one of you..." The man trailed off, looking at Y/n pointedly, and while initially she had wanted to hold her ground she could feel herself shrinking under his gaze.

Where the fuck is Lockwood?!

He could talk his way out of this, she was sure. It was one of the few things she begrudgingly accepted was brilliant about him. It's not like Y/n didn't need the table; Lockwood's huge bag was sat on it and taking up most of the space, and her own backpack was on the seat next to her, but suddenly her breath was coming too quickly and her throat was closing up, and the man in front of her looked a little too similar to that one uncle-

"Is everything alright?" Lockwood's voice broke through the silence, and Y/n was annoyed to find herself reaching for him.

"Yeah, we just need this table, but this girl isn't moving."

"Sorry, my girlfriend's pretty tired at the moment, what with agents being in high demand right now. How about if we share? I think she needs a nap, poor thing, and we've got rather a lot of luggage between the two of us. I'll move over her side, shall I? Then you can take the other- yes, hello, little one." One of the couples' children had been tugging on Lockwood's hand, and Y/n could see the man's posture relax the more Lockwood talked, watching as her fake-boyfriend picked up the small child with ease and planted him on the train seat. The other two followed quickly, glad to not be on their feet any longer, and Lockwood came to sit next to Y/n, pulling his bag closer to them on the table and shoving her backpack onto the floor between everyone's legs. "See, you three all fit there perfectly don't you! You're only small," Lockwood was saying to the children, not yet noticing Y/n's shaky state. Their parents seemed to be content with the arrangement, taking their own seats across the aisle where they could watch their kids, and through the slight haze covering her eyes Y/n could see them visibly relax.

Once everybody was settled, Lockwood shuffled around in his seat trying to get comfortable, and when his elbow accidentally jabbed into Y/n's side he frowned at her.

"You alright?" he whispered, not wanting to draw the attention of their new companions. She took a moment to reply, not quite registering that Lockwood had actually said anything.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I'm fine."

"Right... just- you didn't say anything when I elbowed you just then and I'm worried you might be having a stroke."

"I'm not having a stroke, you idiot," she said, glare appearing on her face. She had some much better names for him, but with three children under the age of ten in front of her, she figured she should stick to the more family-friendly ones. Lockwood smiled, bright and wide and far too blinding.

"That's better." Apparently he had forgotten about the mishap on the platform earlier, and his previous ignorance of her presence, because after that he launched into a whole spiel of what their plan would be.

"Actually," she interrupted, not caring that he looked annoyed, "I've had a lot of time to figure this out. I just need you to confirm or come up with something better on a few things and we should be fine."

"Alright then, what's your grand plan?"

"Well we already know most of the basic stuff about each other, what with living together for nearly three years, so that solves that problem. One thing I did think of was family, since neither of us have actually..." she trailed off, unsure where the two of them stood on that subject given what had happened earlier. Lockwood was only nodding, his brow furrowed.

"Come to think of it, you've never really mentioned your family much," he said.

Y/n shrugged. "I just don't... you know... I just don't..." she flailed her hands around in front of her for a few moments, trying to come up with the right words.

"I don't know," Lockwood replied coolly, "Should I?"

"I just thought I'd tell you about who's gonna be there today, which is my mum and dad, my four brothers, my sister, my Aunt Linda, and her daughter Stephanie. Oh, and my grandparents on my mother's side, but they'll probably be in bed by the time we get there."

"That's... a lot of people."

"Yeah. There'll be more for the party tomorrow, and then the day after will be the same group from today again, and we're leaving that day anyway."

"Okay... what about names?"

"My mum is called Emma, my dad is Ben, my brothers are Sam, John, William, and Tom from oldest to youngest, and then my sister is called Olivia. My Grandma is Jean and my Gramps is Richard."

"Right." Lockwood paused for a moment, reciting the names under his breath. "Anything else I should know?"

"Aunt Linda and Steph are gonna be the worst, since they always try and make life miserable for me. They're ridiculously rich and like making fun of my job- oh, yeah, barely anybody supports my life choices or my job as an agent, so just prepare for that. Uh, where was I? Oh yeah, Steph and Linda will try and find out anything that could be used against us, so I really hope you can act because otherwise they'll figure this whole thing out in seconds."

"Wait-"

"And my brother Will is the most supportive, 'cause he knows that there are options for work after my Talent fades and I'm not going to be out on the streets-"

"Y/n-"

"-and he, John and Sam all play rugby so try not to piss them off because they're twice your size and will snap you like a twig-"

"Y/n!"

"What?!"

"You need to slow down! Go back to the part about your family not supporting your job?"

"Oh, there's not much to it, really." She felt awkward now, his gaze far too sharp for her liking. If he knew the full extent of how much she didn't like her family, he would waste no time in using it to make fun of her and take the upper hand while he could, and she would be left to sink further into herself until she disappeared. "They just don't think I'll have many options, so they want me to think about my next steps."

"Okay..." Lockwood trailed off, getting distracted by something the children were talking about and being asked his opinion on starfish. He looked as though he was about to start conversing with her again, but the train pulled into the platform they needed, and Lockwood was all business getting the luggage out safely.

~~~

"Are you alright?"

Y/n jumped a little in the back of the taxi, not expecting Lockwood's voice so close to her ear. "Yeah, I'm fine, why?"

"You're very bouncy. If you're fine then could you not? You're jolting me."

Why had she thought he was trying to be nice? She should have known better by now that he wouldn't ever be that way with her, but it still stung.

Truthfully, she was on the verge of tears.

She wouldn't ever tell Lockwood that, of course, because how could he understand? He seemed to walk into any situation effortlessly, with endless optimism and charm that made life easy for him. Y/n was stuck panicking about seeing her family again, because if she couldn't even stand up to some random strangers on the train, how was she ever going to stand up to her family? No, she would just have to do her best to hide everything from Lockwood, to reduce the amount of blackmail material he would have against her.

~~~

The taxi pulled up outside the large cottage-style house, and Lockwood let out a low whistle.

"L/n, you never said your family was this fancy."

"They aren't. It was my Grandma's house, then she got dodgy knees and never moved out, and we moved in after selling up our old place to look after her and Gramps. We're about as fancy as your family, Lockwood, in that we too have multiple mortgages on this building to keep it."

"Anthony."

"What?" Y/n frowned, not sure what he was talking about.

"If we're going to pretend that we're dating, you probably shouldn't be calling me by my last name."

"Oh." She hadn't thought about that. The only reason she even knew his first name was because it was in large print on the sign outside the house, since it was generally accepted that he went by Lockwood and that was that.

"Or you could use some sort of nickname. I've got a few for you if you'd like to hear them." The grin on his face made Y/n think that she really didn't want to hear them, but he opened his mouth again anyway. "How about Sugarplum?" Y/n got out the car, slamming the door shut on him a little more harshly than she needed to. "Snookums? I think you look like a Snookums." The taxi driver was giving the two of them strange looks as he unloaded their bags, but Y/n ignored Lockwo- Anthony (she would have to get used to that) and handed over the money for the drive. "What about Sun Beam? Actually, you're too grumpy for that one. Oh, I know! My personal favourite," he paused for some sort of dramatic effect, being left behind on the driveway as Y/n stomped towards the front door. "Schmoopie."

Y/n stopped suddenly, turning to look back at her fake boyfriend with an incredulous look on her face. "Schmoopie?" He looked far too proud of himself as he picked up his bag and caught up with her, and she resisted the urge to hit him.

"Don't you like it, Schmoopie?"

"Call me that again and I'll be chucking your Source in the furnaces within the week." Lockwood (Anthony - she really needed to start calling him Anthony or she'd be saying 'Lockwood' to her family) Can't you just use my name? Or, you know, a more generic pet name?"

"Fine. You're very boring, I hope you know that."

"Sure. Just swear to me you'll never call me 'Schmoopie' again." She said the word with disgust, scrunching her nose up and fighting the urge to gag.

"Whatever you want, darling." That wasn't much better, but at least it was normal. Y/n raised her hand to knock, but before she could the door was being flung open, revealing a woman in a very festive jumper.

"You're here! She's here!"

~~~

Lockwood stood back slightly as the woman wrapped her arms around Y/n, squeezing so tightly he feared for his colleague's spine.

He braced himself for a similar treatment when she pulled back and spotted him, and the next thing he knew he was close to being suffocated as she brought him into a hug. Lockwood held his breath, his eyes wide and arms stuck out to the side as he tried to figure out what the hell he was meant to be doing. He hadn't been hugged like this since, well, since Jess. It took him a few seconds to work out that he needed to reciprocate the hug, but once he had, god. Why was he choking up? He could feel Y/n's eyes on him, so he shut his own and basked in the feeling of actually being held.

"You must be the boyfriend!" the woman said, pulling back and holding him by the forearms.

"Mum! Please don't terrify him!"

So this was Emma L/n, Y/n's mother.

"Yes, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs L/n." He flashed one of his winning smiles, and he could see her visibly relaxing.

"Oh Emma, please!" She looked back over her shoulder at Y/n, mouthing (incredibly non-subtly) 'He's handsome!'

"Mum!" Y/n hissed, starting to turn red.

"What's your name then young man!"

"Anthony Lockwood," he replied, and took particular pleasure in seeing Y/n squirm in the background.

"Well, you'd better come in. Do you need help with the bags?"

"Oh, no, I've got them," he assured her, shouldering his large bag and reaching for the suitcase handle that Y/n was currently holding onto. She didn't relent for a moment, and they had a silent argument for control of the suitcase until eventually with a small tug he won, stumbling ever so slightly from the effort.

"Everything alright?" Emma asked, frowning at the two of them.

"Yes, perfectly fine!" Lockwood called back, shooting a glare at Y/n. She reciprocated, clenching her jaw at his smug smile that came afterwards. He moved inside the house, Y/n following shortly behind and closing the door to keep the warmth in.

"Where should we put our bags?" Y/n asked her mother.

~~~

They had a problem.

A very large problem.

"Well I'm not sharing with you," Lockwood said, moving further into the room that Y/n's mother had shown them to.

"Good," she said, eyeing the double bed. "Just don't complain when your back gives in from sleeping on the floor for so long."

"What? No, I'm taking the bed."

"It's my family home, what gives you more reason to have the bed than me?"

"I'm your boss, and I pay your wages. If you want to keep being paid then I'm having the bed."

Y/n scoffed, shaking her head. "Arsehole," she muttered, going over to the windows and closing the curtains against the now-dark sky outside. The bed was definitely large enough for two people to share, but when those two people hated each others' guts and weren't actually dating, the bed was far too small.

"What was that?"

"Arsehole," she repeated loudly, making sure to look him dead in the eyes when she did so, then immediately turning and heading into the en-suite bathroom.

"What is your issue with me?" he said, following after her.

"You're taking the bed! It's my fucking house!"

"Let's not forget that without me, you would be in a lot more of a tricky situation! I think I deserve the bed for my efforts; it's not easy pretending to love you, you know!"

"Oh, like it's so easy to love you?! You are so horrible to me, all the time, and now I have to pretend to actually want to be with you?! I'd have been in a difficult situation anyway, the only difference is that in this one, I have a fake boyfriend. I could deal with the humiliation of not having anyone with me, but this?" she laughed bitterly. "This is near to being beyond me, Lockwood." Fuck, why was she tearing up? She closed the bathroom door firmly in Lockwood's face, ignoring the shocked expression on his face in the second before he disappeared from her view.

She pushed the lock, waiting for the click before turning and facing the sink, bracing her hands on the edge and heaving a few deep breaths. She hadn't realised how hard it would be to pretend that she was completely fine around her family while they picked and prodded and commented and made snide remarks, and having Lockwood around was only making it worse.

She couldn't even begin to imagine all the things he would use as ammunition in the future. He'd have a field day on this holiday, taking all of her family's words and turning them against her, becoming even worse than he had been before.

A knock sounded on the door, light and unsure, and Lockwood's voice followed afterwards. "...Y/n? I- I'm-" he sighed, and she could imagine him clenching his jaw and looking up at the ceiling as he tried to fight against the nice words he was clearly trying to say. "I have a shit sleep schedule anyway, and you go to sleep a lot faster than I do so it's better for me to sit in a chair when I can't get to sleep and you can lie down, so... yeah." Y/n was surprised at how kind he was, and was starting to wonder if he was having some sort of stroke. But then he started talking again and she knew that he was completely fine.

"If you could not take for fucking ever in the bathroom though that would be great, because I really need a piss."

~~~

"Ah, there you both are! You took your time putting your bags away!" Linda's gaze drifted to Y/n as she said that, eyes sharpening and making the back of Y/n's neck prickle.

"Oh, that's my fault, sorry," Lockwood started, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in. Y/n stiffened, not used to being so close to him, and tried to force a smile onto her face. "I got carried away asking questions about the photos around the room, and I think I might have driven her slightly mad." He was smiling so widely and cheerfully that Y/n could practically feel everybody relaxing and warming up to him. It was frustrating, really, how they had known him for roughly ten seconds and already seemed to like him more than her. Her brothers were eyeing him up, trying to figure out whether they needed to take him outside or just give him a good talking to. Her sister Olivia was also eyeing Lockwood up, but in a very different way to their brothers that was making Y/n somewhat uncomfortable. It wasn't that they didn't get on and that was what was wrong, but they were sisters, and therefore they naturally disagreed on some things.

Apparently Lockwood's level of attractiveness was one of them.

"Oh, not to worry," her mother said, already loving having Lockwood here. "I made tea, if you'd like some? There's cake too, and far too much of it, so take as much as you want!"

"Tea would be lovely, Emma, thank you," Lockwood said, moving his arm away from Y/n's shoulders. She nearly jumped out of her skin in shock when she felt his hand land on her lower back instead, pushing her forward towards the empty loveseat that sat closest to the roaring fire. "Try not to look quite so horrified at this whole thing, darling," he whispered right into her ear, emphasising the pet name. "And maybe relax a little too, yeah?" He sat down on the chair, leaving very little room for Y/n to sit down herself without pressing up against him. She gave up trying to keep space between them when she ended up perching on the edge and gained strange looks from everyone else. Lockwood pulled her back towards him, grabbing her waist with both hands and tugging until she was right up against his chest, their thighs pressed together. He didn't let go, keeping his arms around her and nestling his head in the crook of her neck. She hadn't loosened up since walking in to the living room, and she was entirely sure that her spine was as stiff as one of the wooden floorboards under her feet. Her mother handed over two mugs of tea, placing them on the small side table next to their chair, then went to cut two slices of cake, starting with Lockwood's. He accepted his plate gratefully, smiling brightly up at her.

"How big of a slice, Y/n/n?"

"Uh... maybe-"

"Don't give her too big of a slice, she doesn't need that much," Stephanie interrupted, her tone sickly sweet. Y/n froze, and behind her she could feel Lockwood glancing between the two girls, trying to figure out what was happening. Her mother cut a decent sized slice, ignoring her niece's comment and handing the plate to Y/n.

"Did you make this, Emma?" Lock-Anthony (she might just give up trying to correct herself in a minute) asked.

"Oh, yeah, but you know, it's not my best."

"Well I think it's delicious, you'll have to share the recipe with me so I can have more of it back in London!"

"I'd be happy to! Do you bake then?"

"Oh, no, I'm awful. I'd burn the house down I'm sure. But our friend George is a magician in the kitchen."

"Remind me what you do for work again?" her father asked.

"Actually, maybe you could just... tell us. Since we know nothing about you!" Linda laughed. "We don't even know your name!"

"Anthony Lockwood," he said, yet another of his classic Lockwood smiles taking over his face. Y/n was starting to feel sick from the way Stephanie and Linda were watching them, and she put her fork down on her plate. "Y/n hasn't mentioned me much then?"

"No," Linda simpered. "I have to say, I was very surprised when I heard my sister say that Y/n had a boyfriend. I'm even more surprised that you actually exist!"

"I can't really blame her for not saying anything, I suppose. We're very busy a lot of the time and when we are free I'm often dragging her out on dates and the like, so if you haven't heard from her then that's entirely my fault." God, how was he such a good liar? Everybody believed him right away, but if she tried to get away with something like that they'd be asking so many questions she would give up and tell the truth.

"And... what is it you do for work?" her father asked again, desperate for the answer.

"I'm an agent."

"Fittes or Rotwell?"

"Uh... no, I-"

"Bunchurch then? Or maybe Grimble?"

"Actually," Lockwood glanced at Y/n, and she nodded slightly, bracing herself for her family's reaction. "I run my own agency. George, who I mentioned earlier, is our researcher, Lucy is our Listener, Holly our secretary, and then of course there's Y/n. Best Touch in England." He squeezed her slightly, and when she looked back at him he was smiling up at her so adoringly that she wondered how she ever hated him.

Then he jabbed her side, making her wobble and nearly spill the tea that she'd just picked up, and she remembered that he was a dick.

"Your... own... agency?"

"Yes." Lockwood didn't seem perturbed, which was lucky, because Y/n was feeling increasingly more unsettled with every second that passed. "We're based in London in my family home, but we take clients from all around England."

"Right... so that makes you Y/n's... boss?"

"I know it's not... the usual, but there is nothing that says we cannot be in a relationship. Believe me, I've checked. I don't think there is anything that could have been done to stop me from falling for your daughter, sir, despite her own best efforts, and I like to think that I keep my role as her boss completely separate from my role as her boyfriend."

Y/n stared at him in mild shock, not quite believing how sincere he sounded, and Lockwood was refusing to look at her.

Uneasy glances were exchanged by nearly all of Y/n's gathered family members, the only exceptions being Will, who had always supported Y/n, and Olivia, who was too busy checking Lockwood out. Y/n put her plate of cake down, having spent the last few minutes picking at it and barely eating any, and ignored the look that Lockwood gave her. She wasn't feeling hungry at all now that she was surrounded by everyone, and Stephanie was watching every move she made with terrifying intensity. No doubt there would be some fresh insults this year, and Y/n couldn't wait to be back home again.

Home.

Since when had she considered Lockwood's house her home?

"You alright?" Lockwood whispered in her ear. He kept asking her that, and it was freaking her out a little.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She stood up, gently detaching herself from Lockwood's grip and putting her mug of tea on the side table, half drunk. "Just need the loo, be back in a bit." She tried smiling at everyone, but the water gathering in her eyes made it difficult to pretend that she was actually fine, and she left the room finding it hard to breathe. Y/n headed up the stairs and into the bathroom attached to the room that she and Lockwood were staying in, and for the second time that day braced herself on the sink as she tried to regain control of her body. "Fuck," she muttered. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." She splashed some cold water on her face, holding it against her skin in the hopes that it would shock her back into being alright again, then turned off the tap and sat on the floor, her back to the sink and her legs stretched out in front.

Only two more days to go, and then she could go back to her normal life.

Two more days of this, and she was free, and could eat as much cake as she wanted, because George and Lucy would be stuffing their faces too.

She just had to fake it until then.

part 3

Tag list: @ahead-fullofdreams, @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @locklyebrainrot, @locknco, @mentallyillsodapop (I just realised I hadn't added you I'm so sorry 😭 although I don't know if you wanted to be added actually idkkk) @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

please let me know if I've missed you off the series tag list, and I'll put you right on! <3

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #enemies to lovers #fake dating #christmas

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sirfrogsworth · 5 months

Text

Froggie's (Almost) Very Productive Day 2: Electric Boogaloo

So, the plan was to have my one productive day and then rest for however long the consequences of post exertional malaise decide they want to take.

But I needed to bring the working key fob back to the tire place so they could calibrate the tire pressure sensors. So, the day after my day, I napped until about 4pm and summoned the last bit of energy I had to finish this task.

After they fixed the sensors, I looked out over a beautiful sunset in the Discount Tire parking lot.

It's weird the places you find beauty sometimes.

I was about a mile away from my family's favorite pizza place. We've been going there since I was a tadpole. So I decided to grab a pizza as my Thanksgiving meal.

I didn't realize that the day before Thanksgiving would be just about the busiest night of the year. And they have the world's worst parking lot, half of which is a steep hill, and they didn't have enough spaces.

Google Maps has flattened the appearance of the hill. That thing is nearly a 40 degree angle. If anyone with a sports car wants a pizza, they are going to scrape their paint trying to get it.

So, I tried to park around back. Unfortunately someone was exiting the back parking lot and there is only one lane.

So... I backed up... into a pole.

I was going extremely slow and I barely tapped it. But I still felt pretty stupid. Thankfully no scratches or dents.

I finally find parking and head inside.

The Italian kitsch is always a "welcome" sight.

Every time I look it takes me like 10 seconds to figure out the configuration of his face. I find it is best to look at the mustache first, and then orient yourself from there.

I head to the counter and she asks for my name, assuming I am picking up a phone order. I explained I was just "dropping in" and then she gave me an "oof" face. The wait was nearly two hours. I told her I could get a few things from the grocery store and return for my pizza. She charges my card and I hop back in my car. Just as I was about to exit the parking lot of doom, a customer from Angelo's starts yelling at me.

"You forgot your card!"

Clearly my brain fog is starting to get to me. I left my damn bank card on the counter. So I have to exit the parking lot, drive into another parking lot, turn around, and then park again. I retrieved my card and headed to Nice Schnucks.

The GPS took me on a wild journey to the NS. I've lived in this area for 40 years and I had no idea some of these roads existed. I'm sure it was 3 minutes faster or whatever, but I think I would have preferred a route with streetlights. Unlit streets give me a bit of anxiety. Especially if I don't know them.

I get to NS and realize I was about to have the same problem I did at the pizza place. It was the night before Thanksgiving and the entire neighborhood was scrambling to get food for the next day.

I filled up on soups, frozen pizzas, and I got a few more bottles of my beloved soda. There is a Shirley Temple flavor I have yet to try. (Update: A rare Fitz's fail. Tasted like cough medicine.) And then I headed to the madness of the self-checkout.

I managed to kill about an hour, but my legs were getting wobbly. I really shouldn't have gone back out this soon. And I probably should have just headed home after the car was fixed. But I feared if I didn't do *something* special for Thanksgiving I would probably have a difficult time being all alone.

I head back to Angelo's. This time I was able to park in front and avoid hitting any poles.

The pizza was cooking and needed another 15 minutes. So I sat at a table and worked on finishing writing my to-do list for my trip to Florida. I was trying to tell Amazon that, yes, I do want a tiny bottle of shampoo to comply with the TSA security theater. But, no, I do not want 8 tiny shampoos.

Oh, did you know they charge you a "9/11 tax" when you buy a plane ticket?

Spirit Airlines has a pretty funny alternative name for it...

"After 9/11, the U.S. implemented the “9/11 Security Tax”, which was a fee of $2.50 each way of a trip on top of the price of a plane ticket. In 2014, the 9/11 Security Tax was increased to $5.60 each way. So, for a round trip this fee would cost $11.20"

We are literally still paying for 9/11. And there is no evidence the enhanced security does much of anything.

So we pay this tax so they can force us to buy tiny shampoo and go through scanners that have to detect and blur our genitals so the TSA agent can't see.

Anyway... I finally get my pizza and head home. When I pulled into my driveway I noticed a bright moon in the sky. It looked so massive compared to other nights, so I tried to capture a moon selfie.

As a photographer, I should have realized that a wide angle lens is not going to capture how big the moon looked in the sky that night. Wide lenses exaggerate distance. So things close to the lens look huge and things far away look tiny. That's why we look like aliens if we hold our smartphones too close to our face. To the lens on your camera, the distance from the tip of your nose to your ears is quite vast. Which meens a celestial body that is 240,000 miles away looks like a tiny dot in the picture.

I still kept trying.

That could be a moon I guess.

Umm, Froggie... you got some moon in your hair.

Later I did try to capture the moon with my DSLR and an 80mm lens, but I guess the moon is just really far away or something.

ENHANCE!

A.I. upscaling reveals it is, in fact, the moon.

I ate my pizza and did a quick tire test and photoshoot.

And then I spent way too long Photoshopping this X-wing flying into my deep-as-heck tire tread.

And that was my day after the day.

Today, which is currently Thanksgiving, I slept.

I slept all night.

I slept most of the day.

I still want to sleep.

Weirdly, I am too tired to feel lonely. Though now that I wrote that, I am thinking about my parents being gone, so I just screwed that up.

But hey... at least my pizza was tasty.

#long post

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beanghostprincess · 2 months

Note

*holds you by shoulders*

WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE THING ABOUT 1082 I WAS SURE IT WAS SHIPPY THING AND NOW I NEED TO KNOW

*starts sobbing while slowly falling to my knees*

…….please

I SAW THIS YESTERDAY NIGHT WHEN I WAS ABOUT TO FALL ASLEEP AND I JUST WOKE UP EARLY TO REPLY BECAUSE I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR AGES FOR THIS QUESTION I AM GOING TO KISS YOU ANON-

I do love and adore the shippy part of 1082 because I am a very intense Shuggy shipper and I had been waiting to read their break-up for sooo long. But it's not exactly what made the chapter life-changing for me, tbh.

Buggy's speech is... Is incredibly beautiful and encouraging. It explains so much about his character, the dynamic he has with Cross Guild, and why he's so resentful toward Shanks. Throughout the manga, we've seen him in serious moments, yes, but usually, Buggy is pretty much used for comedy relief more than anything. This is one of the first times we've seen Buggy realize the position he has now and say "Fuck it. Already on the verge of dead for these two, might as well do something with this shitty situation because for once, I have the opportunity to be brave and be more than what people think of me". There's literally nothing stopping him right now, and he prefers to risk his life enraging Crocodile and Mihawk than letting this opportunity of showing who he truly is slide.

And tbh, we haven't seen them ever since (I am starving please-) but I am really hopeful his speech somehow makes Crocodile and Mihawk have a little tiny itty bitty of respect for him at least. Because out of the three? Buggy is the one who deserves the title of pirate more.

Mihawk and Crocodile don't have dreams or ambitions and see pirating as a business. Even when Crocodile did have ambitions (remember when the silly rubber guy destroyed all of his dreams that was a funny arc haha) his whole personality has always been more of a mafioso than anything. Mihawk is a simple man and is bored with life being at the top of the top, he clearly wants something interesting to happen but doesn't see any use in looking for it himself. They care about their commodities and wealth. But out of the three, Buggy is the one who had to give up on his dream and now he has the opportunity to fulfill it.

"How can you call yourselves pirates with schemes like that?! You're doing it all backwards!! [...] Way back when... What did you guys want to be?! [...] I wanna be king of the pirates!! Wealth? Power? Why stop there when we can have it all?!"

This is something a real pirate would say. He talks like Roger here, I am going to curl up and cry don't look at me-

What I like about One Piece is the constant use of themes like dreams and freedom etc, etc... That's something we all know. But you wouldn't expect it coming from Buggy, of all people. And I think I'm pretty fond of him being brave and finally acting upon what he truly wants to do. What makes it great is that you have this comedy relief character standing up for his dream in front of clearly two other antagonists that have control over him in, well, strength and everything. But Buggy has something they don't and it's so, so much ambition and a dream that could be considered childish but it's the representation of freedom and doing things because you want to follow your heart. This is kind of why I always say Luffy would be more fond of Buggy if he knew the whole story and would probably support him a lot--

What I like the most about this chapter is both Buggy's character development through a speech + flashback and Mihawk and Crocodile being completely stunned by it because they weren't expecting this to happen from Buggy of all people. I know I sound like a broken record but I really, really, want them to respect Buggy a little bit more after this. Also, Buggy doesn't do this only to announce he's going to follow his dream now that he's on equal footing with Shanks. He does it because the other two mention needing overwhelming power over the rest. Buggy isn't stupid and knows how manipulating people works. The thing that makes pirates work harder isn't money, it's a dream. And there's nothing a pirate desires more than the One Piece, so that's kind of why he announces it publicly. First, to establish power, and second, so that way Mihawk and Crocodile don't get rid of him because seriously, Buggy is a better boss than these two because their followers appreciate him and don't feel forced to follow him.

Not to mention that the whole thing also shows more of Buggy's relationship with Roger and how left out he felt because people thought highly of Shanks instead of him. But Buggy, even if he was jealous, was willing to follow Shanks despite his feelings because he accepted being less worthy of respect than him. Shanks shone brightly and Buggy decided that, even if he wanted to be seen like that too, he'd give up on his dream and support Shanks instead because at least they'd do this together, just the way they did everything back at the time.

But then Shanks hesitates, and I think that's Buggy's last straw because he sees giving up going for the One Piece as something disrespectful to their captain (dad) and thinks it's unfair that Shanks is so respected by everyone even though the one wanting to follow their captain's steps right away is him. It's honestly frustrating. And then you understand better why Buggy is angry at Shanks-- Yeah, he made him eat the devil fruit and lost the map because of him (not really but whatever), but the way I see it that's just a metaphor for the real reason why Buggy is so resentful. Shanks' existence, even if it was not on purpose, made Buggy feel so powerless he gave up on his dream. And eating a devil fruit means the sea hates you and you can't have any independence in the pirate world, and losing the map is kind of like losing the only thing that guides you. He left Buggy with nothing and let him carry the burden of a lost dream.

This is funny because Shanks did absolutely nothing wrong and everything is a product of jealousy and miscommunication, but I understand why Buggy blames Shanks and this chapter makes it clearer and explains it perfectly.

Basically, it's such an amazing chapter for Buggy's character and it's definitely my favorite for him specifically. Although the flashback does wonders for my Shuggy heart.

Also, adding more points for the revolutionary plot in the end and Sabo showing up because I adore him <3

#also for people who have given up on their dreams because their ex bff was better at fucking everything and now they feel worthless #this is their roman empire okay #definitely not projecting haha this has absolutely nothing to do with me relating to buggy here i swear #i love him quite a lot <3 #i could talk more about this chapter tbh this is a summary and mix of my thoughts but uhhh yeah i don't want to write a whole book rn #but this is my dearest most favorite and precious chapter #also sabo is really cute with koala at the end and i appreciate that a lot #one piece #buggy the clown #shuggy #op chapter 1082 #cross guild

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ladystardust-thinks · 5 months

Text

you are in love - t.e.

taron egerton x fem!reader, fluff

request:

Hi hiii! Can I request a fluffly imagine w Taron Egerton where he's simping over the reader during an interview? Thank youu have a nice day!!!

a/n: Aloha! I'm scared of this fic not getting seen by the anon that requested it bc I thought I had kept another ask by them, were they talked about it being neutral, if possible, but turns out I deleted it (😭) so now I don't know if they see it. IF YOU DO PLS SEND ME AN ASK SAYING YOU SAW IT, I AM BEGING. Btw inspired by you are in love by taylor swift, I thought that was obvious though, kinda want to do a part 2 where you keep his shirt and he keeps his word, but it's just an idea

tags/warnings: not proofread at all, wrote it half-drunk idk if it's obvious lmao, language, mention of reader's hair, taron & reader swooning and dying and being obsessed with eachother, she/her pronouns, drinking, casual love confession, third and first person pov, i think that's all.

word count: no word count bc I was bored, but it's pretty long ig

dividers

"I think being unofficially adopted by Elton was inevitable on set. We've just recognised that only one could be the favourite."

She nods slowly and a grin forms on her face. Taron can't form more of a smile. His cheeks were in pain. Three minutes into the interview and still, not able to answer a question. That's a lie, actually. He could answer a lot of questions. What her favourite song is, the amount of summer fruit she eats in wintertime just because they look cute, the color her eyes have when she sits in front of the sun, every tiny little thing, but that'd be useless in a press tour.

His favourite questions though would be the ones he asked her. The ones about music. How much she relates to Vienna, the guitar solo from Killer Queen, what does she think of the cowboy like me lyrics. Anything she could talk about for hours, he could listen to for hours.

"My back hurts." She whispers to him during the commercial break he didn't realize they were in. "What?"

"My back hurts from carrying this interview. Say something. Otherwise I'm going to die the day Jimmy Fallon makes an interesting conversation point." She whisper-shouts and him.

"I mean it's pretty hard to be hated when you don't have a personality, isn't it?"

He shrugs and smiles at her.

"I feel bad, we're sitting here gossiping about our host. But yeah. True."

She giggles thinking of his joke again. He looks at her as he is trying to keep his smile from exploding. As if he'd laugh with all his teeth if he let go. He's looking at every part of her, his eyes following the curves of her hair, her cheeks with their smile lines, because of her wide beams throughout the years. His eyes going all over her, as if he was scanning her, as if he'd been memorising every little one of her characteristics.

"What's wrong with you today, did I turn into a ghost?" She asks him, smiling.

"What?" He laughs slightly.

"You look at me all the time with that dead fish face. As if you're constantly wondering about something."

"I wonder about a lot of things, I'm a very philosophical man."

"I'm pretty sure that's how Freud's mommy issues started."

"Stop it."

"You stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Being so distracted."

"Only when you stop being so distracting."

"I know, I'm gorgeous but get your shit together."

"You are." He turns to look at her and smiles.

Stunned, she pauses a bit, pursing her lips together. As if she wasn't expecting the compliment. As if he didn't look captivated by every little move she made, the fidgeting of her hands or the twitch of her nose when she was confused. She also turns to look at him.

"Thank you." She lets out a breathy laugh.

"You don't look half bad. Actually, no. You don't look quarter bad! I don't even know if that makes sense, but it felt nice to say." She feels something newfound. Something hopeful and surprising all together. She wondered if he could see it in her eyes, though she hoped he couldn't because it felt vulnerable. She wasn't at ease, she was just delighted enough to only fly right over her safety net. Just in case.

***

As a person I have a lot of qualities, whether people would argue if they're good or bad, I did and they were a lot. Sadly, being patient is not one of them. I have to be distracted from everything at anytime and be constantly stimulated. Sitting down on a makeup and hair chair to be Laura's laboratory animal was one of these activities. One that could bore me very easily, but I also loves doing. It makes her happy to try new things and it makes me happy to see it.

Scrolling on tiktok, I land on a clip from last night's interview, with Taron.

'Currently needing someone to look at me like Taron Egerton looks at his co-stars',

read the caption.

"You're a lucky ass girl." Laura howls seeing my screen from over my head.

I look up and grimace at her.

"You're invading my personal space."

"You are my best friend, I've been invading your personal space since we were 20 and you were crying in the bathroom of a bar because the little umbrellas the cocktails had were 'just too cute'. Get over yourself, he's as cute as the umbrellas, you were thinking it, I said it."

"I- Touché."

Is he?

I mean he's really nice and you'd probably call him charming. And he hears me, which not a lot of people do - including me - anytime i ramble on about... anything.

You could call him cute, yes. He can be funny aswell. It might be the british-ness, I'm not sure. Though, I do enjoy spending time with him.

He's also nice to look at. That sounds weird. He is objectively, and only objectively, really attractive.

"Laura." I say sternly and look up at her through the mirror.

"Mhm..." She's so nonchalant about this. I need some sympathy here!

"You think?" My eyebrows furrow and I tilt my head. I belive I was denying my thoughts more than I was questioning them.

"If you don't, I will. I guarantee you though, I won't be as successful." Her grin makes me frown in thought. At least this is going to be an interesting press tour, isn't it?

***

"I can't say something like that, she'd kill me."

"You smile like an idiot when she talks to you. If she were to kill you she would've already."

"I- I don't think I would mind. I mean, it's from her hands, at least I'd die a happy man."

Richard squints his eyes. "Yes... And you still can't find a way to say that. Uh-huh."

The backstage for their interview had an air, heavier than it needs to be for Taron to process. Variety interview, press event, after-party. That was the schedule for the day, as of 5 minutes prior. Five minutes, in which he felt actually, relaxed. All until we had to shove a 'Confess your immortal passionate love to your co-star (bonus points if she doesn't hate you)' in the To-Do list. Taron thought Richard might, could, maybe, possibly, ever in a million years, be a bit of help.

But he wasn't, he was just being a dick about it, no pun intended. 'Yeah, you're smitten mate.' as if he didn't know that! He didn't need a doctor's diagnosis to tell him he was absolutely and utterly in love. What were the possibilities he wouldn't be? How could anyone not be? He hadn't ever met a more genuine and caring and generous and sweet person in Hollywood. No, fuck Hollywood, his life.

***

Entering the venue hurt him physically. At least that's what it felt like. You cannot judge him, if you had her waving at you from across the room with this wide smile you would've understood. He purses his lips into an upside-down smile he couldn't hold, he would never want to disappoint her like this, but he couldn't wave back of course. He thought he'd faint any moment if he moved. Right, fun. What was he supposed to do, ignore her? Avoid her? That might aswell hurt more. His breath hitched when she began walking over to him. What was wrong with him? He is a confident grown ass man, why does she make him act like that, how does she manage that? Why can she walk in and make the room shine? Why is she so genuinely funny and interesting? How can she be so talented, but at the same time so understanding of others. If it wasn't her Taron wanted to confess to, he'd ask her for advice.

"Thank god you're here! The music is boring, the food is bland and the people are so rich I can't even comprehend if they're talking about their yacht, their Oscar or their villa."

She clearly wasn't doing any better. "Need saving?" he teases and she finds herself chuckling. That's a sweet thought. A nice way to put it. Need a knight to save her from the absolute dread of boredom.

"Yes, Romeo."

"Romeo? I'm flattered."

"You shouldn't be, you die."

"I die in love."

"You die heartbroken, have you read it?"

"Under love's heavy burden do I sink."

"Very well delivered, congratulations."

"Thank you very much."

She smiles and sighes, he's so stupid, it's kind of adorable. What's even more stupid is how stupid he makes her feel. She feels like a fool when she can't come up with a sarcastic comment. She feels like a fool when she notices looking at her and can't even whisper, if ever utter a word. She just smiles. It's annoying.

"Well Romeo and Juliet is pretty fitting, considering you look like you just escaped straight out of some fairytale." He had to gather all his courage and make this compliment, but at least she liked it. No, she loved it. She adored it. It was so adorable, it was so nice. It's a compliment you see being said in books and movies. Made her feel gorgeous, like she was the only one in the room.

"I- Romeo and- Sorry. Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy, not a fairytale." She wasn't sure what else to say and what she did already was supposed to come out way more confident, it didn't. Obviously.

***

I’m not certain how we did so, but we ended up in the backyard of somebody, who knew somebody, who knew somebody who had cheap wine and a good taste in music, but we did. I had a drink in my hand and I was going off about something, but the conversation was changed soon enough. When Taron asked me, how the hell was I single. I looked at him. I squinted and sighed. "Why wouldn't I be? I mean I'm fun and pretty and famous, but who does commitment with a cat lady?! Who would want something long term? Pffft nobody."

I don't think I realised what I was whining on about until I heard him speak up. He said 'Me.' He really said me! It was so foolish, and I was so drunk, but he did say it.

"You."

"Me."

"You're funny."

"Only when I'm joking."

"Fuck. Would you?"

"Would I what?"

"No like, would you actually?"

"...Yeah. Yeah, probably.".

"That's- So you like me?"

"No, I don't think so."

"But-"

"I love you, I believe."

I was just looking at him. I could not function. I thought about the cost of being hospitalised for possible heart abnormalities and cardiac arrest. Saying me too seemed cheaper and more beneficial, so that was what I went with.

"Are you joking?" I let out a breathy laugh, thinking his concerns were ridiculous. "This whole time? Oh my god. I just wasted all this time."

"All this time of what?" He asks and I wonder, how could he not understand? It was so painfully obvious that I wanted him. I craved to hear his laugh and listen to him every day, 'til I would die.

"All this time of not being with you."

His mouth was left a bit agape, but I could see a smile being formed slowly. He just looked at me. With that stupid dead fish face he'd done at first. Laura's gonna love this.

"Could you do me a favour?" I look at him and chuckle.

"What is it?"

"Could you say it again?" I smile, tight lipped.

"I love you."

#taron egerton #taron egerton x reader #taron egerton fluff #taron egerton x reader fluff #taron egerton x fem!reader

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strawberrymilk-sunshine · 1 year

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Stay away from him.

So like, octopi eat shrimp, right? And morays have a symbiotic relationship with a certain species of shrimp, RIGHT? So please consider. The tweels constantly thinking Azul's gonna hurt their "precious little shrimpy" in some way and being super over protective of them :) (btw this is definitely one of the more tame yandere fics I've written)

And oh my goodness I'm running out of Octavinelle gifs to use.

Warning(s): male reader, over-protectiveness, some minor injuries

You didn't exactly want to be sorted into Octavinelle, but hey, it is what it is.

Your family owns a cafe back home, so working at the on-campus cafe your dorm ran was a cinch, easy, no problem at all!

You earned the title of 'employee of the month' (whatever that means) in only your first month of being a student of Night Raven College. Nice.

Thanks to your... impressive achievement, you caught the eyes of two people. Octavinelle's Vice Housewarden and his twin brother.

You didn't want to get tangled up with them in any way... but, it happened regardless.

"Hey, Shrimpy, wanna sit with Jade and I during lunch~?" Floyd playfully asked you. "It'll be fun!"

"No, I was actually thinking-" But before you could finish your sentence, Floyd had grabbed your hand and was already dragging you to the cafeteria with him.

You didn't get to get your own food, but Jade and Floyd shared theirs with you.

"Here, have some of my takoyaki, Shrimpy!"

"Would you like some of my carpaccio? I don't mind sharing with you."

You don't exactly like the taste of octopus, but you appreciate them giving you food.

"Hello Jade, Floyd..." Azul sat down opposite to you. "...and (Y/N). Why is he here?"

"Because he's a tiny little shrimp who needs protection!" Floyd wrapped his arms around you, causing you to choke a bit.

"We've decided to protect him. Of course, in return for certain things..." Jade added, causing you to feel, well, uncomfortable to say the least.

"...ok. Well, (Y/N), I can tell you're..." Azul sorta trailed off, either not knowing what to say or not wanting to say it. "But the three of us have some important things regarding our business we need to discuss, and I would appreciate it if you could leave."

"I'm ok with that." You said, standing up.

But then, both of your arms were grabbed by the twins.

"No, (Y/N) can listen." Jade insisted. "He's a model employee, I'm sure it's fine if he listens in on our business plans."

"Yeah... why're you trying to separate him from us, Azul?" Floyd asked. "It's almost like you want to get him alone so you can catch him by surprise and hurt him."

"What?! No, obviously not!" Azul yelled.

"Well I don't believe you!" Floyd yelled back. They were causing a scene... you'd really rather not be in this situation right now.

"I don't either." Jade calmly added. "Now, Azul, let's discuss our business."

Unfortunately. This is how the rest of your week would go as well.

Those weird twins were very protective of you.

And, they would come to you with problems like injuries and... well, mostly just injuries. Bad ones too.

For example: one night, Floyd entered your room, covered in bite marks, scratch marks, and other various injuries.

"What the hell happened to you?!" You yelled at him.

"Jade and I had a fight." He rolled his eyes. "I'm really huuuuuuuuurt, Shrimpy!"

"Yeah, no shit, Floyd!" You exclaimed. "W-wait here, I'll be right back."

After half an hour or so, you came back with some disinfectant and bandages you bought from the school store.

After everything was all said and done, Floyd laughed at your choice in bandages.

"What?" You asked.

"Nothing, just lookin' at these cute little sea creature bandages ya got." He smirked. "They're kinda funny looking!" He giggled at the silly little fish illustrations.

"Oh, yeah, I saw 'em at Sam's shop and I just had to buy them!" You explained. "You can keep the box of them, if you want. I-I don't think I'll use them very much..."

"Eh, I don't see why not. Sure, I'll take your silly little bandages!"

Things like this kept happening. Whenever the two of them had bad things happen, they'd immediately go to you for help. Your classmates and others view of you changed significantly when they saw the fucking Leech brothers following you around like baby ducks.

It was very off-putting to everyone else.

You, Floyd, and Jade had (what they described as) a symbiotic relationship. You took care of them and they took care of you.

One time you were sick with a really bad fever, and Jade took care of you! He got you tea, soup, a cold towel for your forehead, he even put on a movie for you on one of those old portable DVD players because you couldn't get out of bed.

One time you fell down the stairs, and you got a bad scrape on your knee. Nothing serious, but it definitely hurt. When Floyd noticed your scrape, he gave you one of the sea creature bandages you gave him a few days ago. Specifically, it was one with a moray eel on it (you're almost 100% sure he gave you that one on purpose.)

They also really didn't want you to be anywhere near Azul.

They'd do everything in their power to keep you as far away from Azul as possible. The only time you saw Azul without the twins supervising you was board game club meetings. But even then, Azul avoided you. So during board game club you kinda just sat by yourself in the corner, browsing your phone.

One time, you tried to make a deal with Azul, but he declined! He, Azul Ashengrotto, known for pushing deals to people and pressuring them into contracts, declined to make a deal with you!

One night, as you were watching a movie with Floyd, he said something to you.

"Listen, Shrimpy... we need to talk." He began. "You should really try to stay away from Azul. He's dangerous."

What you didn't know was that Jade was having a very similar conversation with Azul.

"We want you to stay away from him, Azul." Jade said. "I'm sure you know how Floyd and I feel about (Y/N), and I'm sure you know he can barely defend himself... so please stay away from him from now on."

You didn't know why Floyd was telling you to avoid Azul, he's harmless! And, even though he can be kinda cruel with his contracts, he's usually really nice.

"Floyd, he's our Housewarden! He's kinda hard to avoid because of that..." You mentioned.

"So? Just try to avoid him as best as you can. You don't have to perfectly avoid him, since most of the time Jade and I will be around to keep ya safe... you just have to be extra careful when we aren't around, kay~?"

"N-no? That's insane, I'll be fine!" You responded.

"Hm... well, I won't force you to do anything. I just want you to stay safe, 'cause Azul's a dangerous guy!" Floyd gave you a very tight hug. "You should stay away from him."

Jade had his magic pen pressed against Azul's throat like a knife, though it was just a bit more threatening since, with the magic pen, Jade could burn Azul to a crisp in two seconds.

"You know Floyd and I appreciate your friendship... I would hate to hurt you, I truly would... but if you hurt (Y/N), you will force my hand." Jade backed off slightly. "Please don't hurt him in any way. If you do, you know what will happen. I will know what you did. Floyd and I will both know what you did to our little darling (Y/N). So please... stay away from him."

#jade leech #floyd leech #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #yandere #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst x reader #yandere jade leech #yandere floyd leech #yandere floyd x reader #yandere jade x reader #yandere jade leech x reader #yandere floyd leech x reader #yandere floyd #yandere jade

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mummybear · 7 months

Text

My Brother's Best Friend - Part 3 - Explanations

Words: 6287

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Tiny Bit Of Smut, Multiple Heart To Heart, Protective Scott, Possessive Stiles, Jealously, Talk Of Marking, Talk Of Mates. Think that's it.

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Reader/Sadie McCall, Lydia Martin, Liam Dunbar, Allison Argent, Melissa McCall, Derek Hale.

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski and Reader

Summary: A little bit more of the truth is revealed and things get heated between Stiles and Sadie, not in all positive ways. Just how much can Sadie take?

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry I know I missed a week there, had a busy week at work! And hopefully this extra long chapter will make up for it, I was going to cut it into two chapter but I felt it flowed better as one, so I hope that's okay! Please let me know what you think, really hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 3 - Explanations

Scott’s whispered confession reaches your ears and you collapse against him almost immediately. Being turned was the one thing Stiles had insisted that he would never want, and he’d become increasingly adamant as the years had gone on. You can’t help but worry how this has affected their friendship, this was a pretty big thing to come between two friends. You also need to find out just how badly it’s currently affecting the two of them individually. They were two of the most important people in your life, which only made hearing all of this that much harder.

Scott pulls back to look at you as soon as you’ve recovered from the shock. You know that he needs to talk, to get this off of his chest, so you don't say anything in reply. You're slightly unsure of what to say right now anyway, because he’d done it, you knew he wasn’t lying, he’d bitten Stiles and that only meant one thing.

Besides, It's not like you can argue with him, because given his choices and his abilities, you would've done the same thing, especially in the heat of the moment. Knowing your brother the way you do, you know how hard it was for him to make that decision. He’d never wanted to turn anyone, let alone somebody who couldn’t make the decision for themselves.

A fleeting thought crosses your mind, does Stiles still have the beginnings of his mothers condition? Or had his new werewolf side shielded him from that reality? But Scott speaking pulls you from your thoughts.

"Trust me, nobody can hate me more than I hate myself for what I did that day. I know it was selfish, I do. But I couldn't lose my best friend, Sadie. Not like that, not when I had the chance to save him."

You hug him again, making sure to squeeze him extra tight.

"I won't tell you that you made the wrong decision, Scott, because that would make me a hypocrite. I'm pretty sure in your position I would've done the same. But have the two of you spoken about any of this? The guilt you're clearly feeling? Are you guys okay?"

"Sorry, I’m just worried about you, well, both of you." You mumble under your breath, pulling back to look at him. You're sure that your wince is visible as soon as the words leave your lips.

Not that Scott shows any sign of being overwhelmed by your inquisition, nothing new there though. He simply gives you a fond smile as he looks you over, as if contemplating if you can handle his next words.

"Typical, Sadie. Always thinking of everyone else, never yourself.” Scott sighs softly, before he continues.

“Stiles knows how I feel and why I feel it, and he gets it. We've talked at length about this, trust me, I think he’s sick of me asking at this point. He isn't happy about what I did, not by a long shot, but he's had time to process and he understands why I did what I did." Before Scott can continue he groans in pain and clenches his teeth.

You quickly grab his shoulders and force him to look at you. "I guess I got it from my big brother, huh?” You state matter of factly, trying your best to distract him from whatever pain he’s feeling but you watch as he balls his hands into fists, clearly doing his best to ignore whatever is wrong. Then you watch as his face begins to contort in pain, instantly worrying you.

“Scott, what Is it?" You demand as the worry tightens your stomach almost painfully. He reaches out and quickly grabs the couch and his claws start protruding from the tips of his fingers.

"I hate to ask you this, Sadie. But I need you to go down to the basement with me. Stiles needs you, he's in pain and he and I, our connection, it’s diff…" Scott's sentence is cut off when he moans, grabbing at his head and dropping to the floor.

You don't even think as you leave your brother, making a run for it, heading towards the basement door. You rip the door open and charge down the stairs, flinging open the final door as soon as it’s in reach.

"Stiles?" You call out as soon as you round the corner, but you come to a halt as soon as your eyes fall on the man in question, he’s chained to the wall in front of you. Growling low and sinister the closer you get to the men. You glance at Derek and Liam standing off to the side, looking like they’re ready to pounce at the slightest hint of trouble, and move away a little.

Lydia quickly grabs your hand and pulls you with her all the way to the other side of the room, with Allison and your mom.

You very quickly realise that you can't look away from Stiles. His eyes are a much deeper purple than you had initially seen earlier. Maybe they changed depending on the situation and perhaps his emotions played a part in it too. Simply another thing you were yet to find out.

You finally allow yourself a real look at him and the man he’s become. Your eyes move over him slowly, taking your time to check him out. He's certainly not the same Stiles Stilinski that you remember. He looks mouth-wateringly good, even covered in dirt and blood, his corded muscles ripple as he strains against the restraints, his clothes clinging tightly to his sweat-soaked body. You’re unable to get over how he was still the skinny defenceless boy you’d fallen in love with. His hair is a little longer than it was the last time he’d been home. Yet another thing you’d failed to notice. Stiles had you so distracted earlier tonight that you’d barely managed to pay attention to anything, except the things he was doing to you. You didn’t give much thought to how much he had changed.

"Mine." Stiles growls suddenly for the second time tonight. Hearing that word again snaps you from your admiration of him, especially when he begins to thrash in his chains to get to you.

However, the tighter he pulls against his bindings the more blood drips from his elbows, but he either doesn’t care or he doesn’t seem to notice. Almost like the rage had consumed him. Stiles doesn’t even seem like himself right now, It’s almost like he’s possessed. And It’s killing you to watch him like this, to see him hurting himself in this way. The fact that it’s because of you doesn’t escape your notice.

You swallow thickly as you step closer to him, almost like you’re hypnotised by him once again. Except that this time you're very aware of the pull, so you don't put up any resistance. You wince when you catch sight of just how deep the handcuffs and chains have cut into his wrists. You’re really hoping that Stiles heals just as quickly as Scott, or he’s gonna be in a lot of pain for quite a few days at least.

"Let him free, please. I need him out of there and so does my brother." You whisper to nobody in particular, eyes locked on Stiles’.

"We can't, Mini. I’m sorry, really. But we don't know what he'll do. He isn’t himself right now and we need to wait for Scott. Alpha’s orders." His words are careful, almost like he’s worried about upsetting you. Apparently he’s right to be worried about your reaction, because suddenly anger creeps up your spine, almost as if it isn't your own and you round on the Beta.

"I said let him the fuck out. Now. It's hurting him and my brother. So your Alpha can’t exactly speak for himself right now. So do it, let him out.” Your voice is practically a growl as you march up to Liam and shove him back against the wall. He holds his hands up to try and placate you, for some reason that just makes your anger spike higher. Your hands tighten in his jacket as you shove him back harder. “Or we can find out what happens if you really piss me off."

Anger is thick in every one of your senses. Although now this anger is one hundred percent your own. It’s a feeling you’re all too familiar with, though not at this intensity. It’s the feeling of needing to protect something that’s yours, so even though you might not have the same power as the people in this room, it is something you can’t stop yourself from trying to do.

You feel everyone’s eyes on you. Of course they don’t look overly concerned about you hurting anyone. It’s probably just that they don’t like seeing you upset, you quickly glance at Derek, “just wait okay, I’ll go get Scott.”

You give Derek a stiff nod in return, watching him leave until the door closes behind him. No matter how much you try to calm yourself, it feels like the anger and despair are drowning you. It’s beginning to scare you now, there’s no controlling it, your hands shake as you screw your eyes shut, searching for some semblance of calm.

"Don't do this, this isn’t you, Sadie. It's okay, I’m okay. Breathe for me, please." You spin around hearing his raspy breathless voice and once again your eyes lock with Stiles.

His eyes have returned to the chocolate brown colour you've always loved. "Stiles," you sigh in relief. Taking a deep breath and stumbling back a little, as the anger seems to leave you in a dizzying rush, almost as if Stiles had helped you gain control of your emotions. But that’s not possible, right?

Your mother wraps her arms around you, right as Scott stumbles into the room with Derek’s arm wrapped around his waist to hold him up.

"He's back. For everyone's sake let him out." Scott’s breathless as Derek releases him and helps him lean against the wall to catch his breath.

Allison quickly undoes Stiles' chains with the key that she’d been tightly clutching the whole time, and with a nod from your brother Lydia and Liam rush to grab Stiles as he collapses under his own weight. You have to look away when Stiles rests his head on Lydia’s shoulder, jealousy and sadness hit you all at once, like a punch to your gut. Turning around in your mother’s arms you wrap yours around her too, burying your face in her shoulder.

Suddenly goosebumps raise at the back of your neck, “not now, Stiles. Sadie needs rest. Now that you’re back to yourself. I hope you understand that.” Your arms tighten around her, and you thank the stars that Melissa McCall is your mother, she has this ability to sense what you need before you even say anything.

Without another word she turns you both and wraps her arm around your shoulder, pulling you into her body tighter, as she leads you out of the room. You follow silently, unsure of what to say. This day has already been completely crazy, you just need a little time and space to process everything. It’s so damn late you’re surprised the sun hasn't started rising yet.

As soon as the two of you walk inside your room you collapse on the bed, throwing an arm over your eyes, but you can feel your mom watching you.

“Can we not talk about it, momma. I just need the rest of the night to myself, we can talk tomorrow, okay? I promise I’ll be fine.”

You inwardly flinch as the images of all the times you’ve seen Stiles and Lydia together flash through your mind on an unforgiving loop.

“Sure baby girl, you’ve got it. But you need anything, you know where I am.” She gives your leg an affectionate squeeze before heading out of the room, with a sigh you close your eyes and roll onto your, doing your best to sleep. Feeling a tear roll down your cheek as the images continue to assault your senses.

Some Time Later That Night

You wake suddenly, hearing the creek of the bedroom door as it opens slowly. You sit up and quickly turn on the bedside light, squinting at the brightness it brings. Your heart hammers in your chest as you feel yourself beginning to panic. Then a mop of brown hair appears around the door, “sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to talk, or sit, or I guess just be near you. If that’s okay? This is… I sound like an idiot, I just-” you cut him off, unable to stop yourself from giggling at him, his cheeks are bright pink and he looks so nervous. Which is so strange with how he looks now, but it’s also so much like the Stiles you used to know.

“Come in, sit down. Dork,” you smile, patting the bed beside you trying to pretend all he is your brother’s best friend coming to talk, and completely ignoring the fact that you’d been making out a few hours ago.

He watches you closely, almost like he’s worried about scaring you off if he moves quickly.

“You sure? I couldn’t sleep, I just… I guess I just need to be near you, if you don’t mind that is. I don’t want to overstep, guess I thought we could talk.” He’s rambling and fiddling with his own fingers as he watches you closely.

You carefully lay your hand on top of his when he sits beside you on your bed.

“Stiles, It’s okay that you’re nervous. I am too, this whole thing is kind of crazy.”

“You have no idea just how crazy it is. Scott said he told you what happened to me. With this,” he says as he waves his hand over his body.

“This is so strange to talk about, I never saw all of this in my future. Even though I don’t even know what this is exactly. Deaton has some running theories. Unfortunately none of us have anything concrete to go on right now.”

“Can I ask where Scott…” you can’t finish the sentence, unsure if it’s rude to ask about his mark.

Stiles swallows hard and nods, meeting your eyes, he shrugs off his hoodie and extends his arm. The mark is half way up his forearm, and to your surprise it’s still visible. You vividly remember how Scott’s had disappeared pretty quickly after he’d been bitten by Peter.

“Yeah, I kinda got that you’re not just any kind of wolf, you’re different. Right?” you ask as he links his fingers with your own.

Stiles leans back against the headboard and you do the same, turning so that you look him in the eyes. This feels good, like he trusts you, like he wants to confide in you, it’s something you’d always wanted. To feel like you could be there for him when he needed somebody the most.

“I was starting to get used to it, the whole wolf thing. Well, as much as was possible. But then I saw you and something changed, it was like I couldn’t control myself, I needed to get to you. I know you probably don’t want to talk about this, but when I found that douche in that room with you, I lost it. The thought of him touching you made me feel sick, the fact that you clearly weren’t interested both helped and made things so much worse. I wasn’t just angry as your brother’s best friend or even as your friend.” He reaches up and cups your cheek with his free hand, “I didn’t want his filthy fucking hands anywhere near you. I had to have you, make you mine. Possess you, mark you,” he rasps, his voice becoming breathy and laboured, and the purple in his eyes flashes again, before quickly returning to brown.

You swallow thickly, arousal and nerves swimming inside you like an uncontrollable force. “What about now?” you whisper, leaning in a little bit closer.

“Right now, I can’t lie. Those thoughts haven’t changed, they’re still there, no matter how much I try to push them down. The more time we spend together, the harder it gets to ignore, and it gets harder by the second not to throw you on this bed and make you mine.” He all but growls before clearing his throat.

Stiles gives you a wry smile as he shakes his head. “But now I’m in control of myself, I won’t do anything, not until you know everything. I won't let you do anything more with me, not until you know as much as we do.”

“Wow,” you whimper, clenching your thighs together as his words continue to stoke the fire inside you. You clear your throat and take a shuddered breath when Stiles subconsciously edges a little closer to you, so that your thighs are touching.

“What, you’re not even going to kiss me?” The words leave your parted lips in a breathy whisper.

“No.” His words are sharp and blunt. You wish it didn’t turn you on more but it does.

“What else do I need to know?” you question quietly. Licking your lips as you watch him closely, wishing that you could just get this out of the way and get to the good stuff.

His thumb brushes your bottom lip, “stop doing that for starters, beautiful.”

“Why’s that?”

He chuckles quietly. “I think you know exactly why, so stop being a smart ass.”

Your nose brushes against his as you lean in the last little bit, “maybe you should tell me what I need to know Agent Stilinski, then we can get down to business.”

“Ugh, come on you little minx. Don’t do that to me,” Stiles groans, brushing his nose over yours softly.

“Just a little taste,” you whisper before moving in and pressing your lips to his. Stiles sighs in defeat and pulls you closer.

“Fine. You win for now…” Stiles mumbles, pulling away briefly to meet your eyes, “but we’re not doing anything permanent. Not until we talk.”

“Yes Sir,” you grin, throwing off your duvet and climbing into his lap. The sleep shorts you’d pulled on before bed pull tight against your ass as you settle your knees either side of his hips.

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, letting everything you have ever felt for him pour into the kiss. He holds you close, wrapping his arms around you as his tongue moves to brush against yours. The kiss quickly deepens and you feel his fingers beginning to dig into your skin soft harshly, but it only makes you want him more. You whimper as the passion intensifies and you feel like your heart is about to beat out of your chest. You can’t get close enough to him for your liking, It’s almost like you want to be a part of him.

“Please,” you moan against Stiles’ lips as he pulls your hips tighter against his.

The rigid length of his thick cock settles between your thighs, and you can’t help but whimper as you experimentally roll your hips over him.

“Don’t, Sadie.” Stiles demands, his eyes glowing purple once more, only this time the colour doesn’t leave his eyes and you quickly stop your movements.

Stiles tightly grips your ass now in both hands and his fingers dig into your bare skin. You cup his cheeks and watch him closely as you tell him what you need to. Both of you breathing heavily against each other's lips, then the lust that was thick in the room quickly begins to fade.

“Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry, we should talk.” You sigh regretfully, looking down into your lap as you drop your hands to his chest.

“Hey. Look at me,” Stiles asks you, moving his hands up and gently squeezing your hips.

“I guess I’ve just wanted this for so long, you and me I mean. I never even considered you’d look in my direction.” You look up to meet his eyes, instead you find him chewing on his lower lip. “What?”

“How long?” Stiles asks as his thumbs rub soothing circles into your hips.

“What does that matter?” You ask nervously, looking at the wall behind him, too afraid to meet his eyes.

“I’m just interested. I never noticed anything, you never said anything.”

“Come on, Stiles. You’re my big brother’s best friend. I’m just some huge cliche. Not to mention the fact that you’ve been in love with Lydia for so many years. I accepted a long time ago that I never stood a chance. Maybe this thing between us will just fizzle out soo-”

Stiles cuts you off when his lips meet yours, you squeeze your eyes shut as a tear rolls down your cheek. You wrap yourself around him tighter, doing your best to hold onto whatever this is for as long as possible. Stiles threads his fingers through your hair as he attempts to pull you closer. Both clinging to each other as you pour everything you have into a kiss once again, too worried this will be your last. Stiles pulls away slowly, giving your lips a final soft peck.

“I might not know everything about us just yet, but don’t say that we’re temporary. I’d never do that, not to you. I don’t want you ever even thinking that ever again. This is exactly why I said we needed to talk.”

You sigh and rest your forehead against his, “okay, so talk.”

“Okay. So I guess we should start from the beginning. Back when Scott turned eighteen he started having these urges. They were so intense and he really struggled to stop himself from taking every opportunity to be with Alison. When I say be with Alison I mean like be with her,”

“Okay, eww. Stop with the visuals I get it.”

Stiles clears his throat, failing miserably to hide his laugh before continuing. “Anyway, it didn’t matter where they were or who they were with, they couldn’t stop themselves. Frankly I almost threw up on several occasions, frankly I’m surprised that you didn’t notice. Anyway, it only got worse, he started getting visions, he was unbelievably possessive and protective of her and anyone who was around her got the brunt of it, specifically men.” Stiles gives you a sheepish smile as he pulls back to look at you.

“Okay, so some of this sounds familiar…” you trail off, admiring the way he looks in that moment.

“Right, I’m getting to that. So, when Alison started acting out, feeling things that were far from the usual, experiencing not only her emotions but Scott’s as well, amongst a bunch of other things you’ll probably soon notice with us, he went to Deaton for help. Scott asked Deaton if he knew what the hell was going on with him and with Allison, especially since she wasn’t a wolf. As it turns out the good doctor had some idea, he’d been doing some more research into the whole true Alpha thing, while the research is limited, for obvious reasons, it did mention something about the true Alpha and their pack having mates. Where regular werewolves aren’t heard to have mates specifically, Scott is different, and by extension so is anyone in his pack. More specifically the wolves he has turned will be the ones more likely to be affected.” You can almost feel his excitement the more he talks, and his grip on you tightens.

You gently pry his hands off of you, doing your best to ignore the hurt look that crosses his face when you climb off of his lap, moving to sit beside him instead.

You’re pretty sure that you’re starting to connect the dots, as much as you want to listen, you can’t deny that you’re becoming increasingly nervous the more that he talks.

“Please, don’t run. Not again. I know this is alot to take in, but…” you cut him off with a shake of your head.

“I’m not gonna run, Stiles. This is just a lot, and it only confirms everything I was worried about to begin with.” You sigh, rubbing your hands over your face. Stiles carefully and hesitantly wraps an arm around your waist and tries to pull you closer.

You can’t deny the comfort you feel being close to him, his skin touching yours only adds to everything you feel.

“Okay. It’s your turn to talk, what exactly is it that you’re worried about?” Stiles asks, turning your face so that you’re looking at him.

You feel a tear roll down your cheek as soon as your eyes clash with his, “let’s be honest here, Stiles. If it wasn’t for this whole mate bond thing, would you have even looked at me twice, in a way that wasn’t like I was your sister? Can you honestly tell me that anything would have changed between us if Scott hadn’t been forced to bite you that day?”

Your heart hammers painfully in your chest as you watch him, you can see the unease written all over his face. However, that only serves to prove your point and that just breaks your heart that much more.

“It doesn’t matter how things used to be, Mini, things damn well change. And we don’t know what would’ve happened. Please, don’t talk like this. It feels like you’re saying goodbye before anything even has a chance to start between us.” Cupping your face he wipes your tears away carefully. “Please, stop crying.”

“Well we don’t know that now do we!?” You can’t keep your voice down, there are too many emotions swirling inside you uncontrollably.

You jump off of the bed and start pacing your room, fully aware that Stiles is yet to take his eyes off of you. Hearing you bed creek you turn to face the movement, watching as he slowly walks towards you.

“Goddamit Sadie! Just stop. I get that you don’t understand how any of this works, well neither do I, not really! Not first hand! I understand that you don’t see that I could go from not seeing you the way I do now, seemingly out of nowhere. But it was like a bolt of lightning hit me the second I saw you tonight. I laid eyes on you and everything made sense, I know that you don’t completely understand, but surely you feel it?”

“Of course I feel it! I’ve felt it for the last decade of my life! My feelings didn’t just appear overnight! They only got stronger. And It fucking hurts, Stiles!”

“Then why can’t we give this thing a go! Just let me try, please! You don’t know what this mate bond means. At least let me explain that. If you don’t want to talk to me, then ask your brother or Allison, I’m trying here okay! Just tell me what I can do?” Stiles begs, stilling your pacing when he gently takes you by the arms.

“I want to talk to you about this, whatever this is… I just don’t know what to make of all of it.”

Running your hands through your hair you inwardly groan knowing what you’re about to say.

“But first I need to ask you something, and I want only honest answers. Even if it means that I won't like what you say, because I need to know that I can trust you. Especially If we do go through whatever needs to be done to complete this mate bond.”

“How do you know you need to do something to complete the bond?” Stiles asks, a slight grin kicking up the corner of his lips.

“Stiles,” you sigh, folding your arms across your chest.

“Okay, sorry. Go ahead, I promise I’ll be honest whatever that means for us, I won’t lie.” He looks nervous, but there’s a determination you can see written all over his face.

“Do you still have feelings for Lydia?” Your voice remains even and steady, no matter how much you’re dreading the answer to that question. One thing you’re sure of though is that you can read Stiles like a book, always have been able to. Or maybe he just wasn't a very good liar, you just hoped he hadn’t honed that particular skill while working with the FBI.

Stiles smiles at you and shakes his head.

“Honestly, no I don’t, at least not in the same way that I used to. A few years back Lydia talked to me about it, the guys had been joking with me about it, she overhead and pulled me to one side. We talked for a while and I realised my feelings weren’t the same as they used to be, sure I still love her, but only in the same way that I love Allison, that’s it.” He takes your hand and places it over his heart. His heartbeat remains steady and controlled, and his eyes stay locked with yours.

You’re so shocked that you just stare at him for a full minute with your mouth open, but then he begins to look a little too smug so you decide to speak.

“So, let’s say I believe you. Did Deaton say Scott and Allison needed to do something to complete the mating bond? Or was it just a sure thing the minute Scott turned eighteen?” you ramble, fully aware these questions are practically spilling from your mouth.

“I’m guessing you’re using your brother and Allison to try and distance yourself from this. I’ll play along with it.” Stiles agrees reluctantly, and you hate that you have to use your brother and his girlfriend as cover, but you need to distance yourself from the situation a little.

“Deaton’s research indicated that a lot of the myths and stories around werewolves aren't so crazy. As it turns out there’s actually a lot of truth behind them. A werewolves mate is its other half, almost like a soulmate. So when they finally find each other it’s usually instinctual to mark each other. Obviously, like I said, Scott is different. Mates haven’t been mentioned in decades amongst wolves, not until now. So far It’s only been Scott and our pack that we know of, but still, it also means that not both halves are always wolves. Like with Scott and Allison, and you and me.” Silence surrounds the pair of you as you stare at him, he smiles and tucks a finger under your chin to close your mouth.

You frown when Stiles’ smile suddenly drops, and he seems to be contemplating telling you something. However, then you hear him sigh and he screws his eyes shut. When he does open them you see his nervousness and worry staring back at you.

“I should also tell you something else. Something I wish so badly I could lie to you about, because right now I’m terrified you’ll want to choose this option. But I meant what I said, I won’t force you into this, and definitely not without all of the information.”

“Okay. I’m listening. But don’t be so sure I’ll take the easy route.” You smile, trying to reassure him somehow.

Stiles seems to ignore your words, and the worry doesn’t lift from his face as he scrubs a hand over it before speaking.

“You can refuse to be my mate. You can reject me and I can reject you. We also both have the option to refuse or accept the rejection. But I promise you here and now that if you chose to reject me I would accept it. If that was what you wanted, I won’t stop you. But I will NEVER reject you. I need you to understand that whatever happens, It won't be me rejecting you.”

“Is it painful? To reject someone I mean? How would we even do that?” you ask with confusion lacing your tone.

Stiles winces as at your reply and looks down at his hands, which he quickly tucks in his pockets.

“If that’s what you want to do, I understand. But the selfish part of me can’t explain to you how to do it. So you’ll need to get Deaton to explain it properly, I wouldn’t want you to mess it up, not if you truly wanted to do it. But yes, it is. It’s apparently the worst pain a wolf can experience.”

“And you’d do that? For me?” you ask in disbelief stepping closer.

“I’d fucking die for you Sades. What’s a bit of pain?”

Your heart practically breaks at that statement, the look on his face alone could shatter you right then and there, so you decide to try and change the subject. Especially since you have no intention of rejecting him either.

“Wow this is a lot,” you half laugh in disbelief, running a nervous hand through your hair.

“As soon as I caught your scent, my mouth watered and I knew instantly what you were to me, even before I knew who you were. Then I saw you, and that need to make you mine was so insistent and constant that I felt it everywhere. But I wouldn’t ever do that to you, not without you having full knowledge of the situation. I was doing okay at keeping my cool, but then we kissed and I lost it.”

“Has Scott marked Allison?” you ask swallowing thickly when you don’t find yourself completely against the idea.

“Sure has, right here,” he rasps as he trails his finger along your collarbone.

“Scott wanted it where everyone could see it.”

He licks his lips as your heart rate increases, you take a step back as he advances on you, until your back hits the wall.

You clear your throat as you look into his eyes once more, “have you thought about where you would mark me, if we did go ahead with this whole mating thing?”

“You little Minx are playing with fire right now. But since we’re being honest, I haven’t thought about much else. So don’t tease me.”

“C’mon! Tell me, please,” you whisper, unintentionally leaning into his touch.

Stiles chews on his bottom lip thoughtfully, you can feel his eyes roam across any uncovered skin, almost like it burns under his gaze. He hums thoughtfully as he traces several places with his fingers. He starts by tracing the line between your neck and shoulder, before he slowly moves down, lingering on the curve of your breast a little longer than necessary and your heart rate speeds up as he makes his way down your body. His eyes saying everything that his mouth won't.

“So many perfect places,” he mumbles, moving next to trace the line of your hip where your t-shirt has ridden up, lastly he moves between your thighs, tracing along your inner thigh keeping his touch high. He’s so close to your pussy that you can feel an intense heat beginning to overtake you when his fingers dig into your skin.

“Guess it depends just how badly I want people to know who you belong to, doesn’t it? Or If I want it somewhere only I can see.”

You're speechless as you tremble with need in front of him, the need to have him inside you is almost overwhelming. You would do anything to please him right now, you want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything. Stiles’ deep chuckle catches you by surprise as he leans in, inhaling deeply.

“I can smell your need, mate. You’re wet for me again, aren’t you?” he rumbles as he nuzzles into your neck. You’re fully aware it’s a statement not a question.

“That werewolf nose of yours is gonna be a real big pain in my ass, Stilinski,” you giggle as his breath tickles your skin.

He pulls back to grin at you again. “How about you? Where would you want my mark? I know you’re thinking about it, my little minx.”

Licking your lips you slip out from in between Stiles and the wall keeping your eyes on him. “Well, I could tell you the answer to that. But I think we’ve talked enough.”

You slowly slip your shirt over your head and Stiles’ rumbling growl fills the room. He steps forward and you step back another step, slowly letting your shorts drop, leaving you in your underwear.

“I think It’s only fair if we get a good, long, hard look at each other. You know, for research.”

Stiles doesn’t speak and his eyes haven't moved from your body. He quickly pulls off the black t-shirt he’s wearing, and you have to hold your breath at the sight in front of you. If you’d thought he was ripped before, dear lord were you in for a surprise. He has a six pack you could only dream of and he looks like he could throw you around the bedroom with those arms. That deep V at his hips has you itching to run your tongue along it.

You swallow thickly as he smirks at you, and those purple eyes return, only showing you that his emotions have some control over their colour.

“Well damn, you certainly healed up. Real fucking nicely.” You groan, licking your lips as he dips his thumbs into the waistband of his track pants, exposing more of that V.

“Glad you approve, Minx.” He grins, letting his pants drop to the floor, leaving him in his boxers.

“I’ve never been happier to be part of research. Because you look good enough to eat.”

Tags: @julzdec @lettersofwrittencollective @mogaruke @lilulo-12fanfiction @charmed-asylum @defenderrosetyler @emilyshurley @foxyjwls007 @mylovelydame21 @akshi8278 @peaches0007 @stylesismyhubs @peachyyybabyy @fantasy-myth1 @death-unbecomes-you @coffeebooksandfandom @magssteenkamp @screamxqueenx94 @brien-odylan @riseandshinelittleblossom @ceceliaking-18 @mrs-mitch-rapp93 @missindecision @deans-number-one-fan @onethirstyunicorn @amberboo329 @chewie-redbird @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

#stiles stilinski #teen wolf #teenwolf #stiles teen wolf #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x you #stiles x reader #stiles and scott #my brother's best friend #Chapter 3 #mates #fated mates #marking #Stiles is werewolf #werewolf

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spoopydooblr · 6 months

Note

The Ken and Stella pregnancy blurb was so good could you write one where they find out that she’s pregnant?

ive been thinking about this scenario a lot and i cant really decide how i want this to go . . .

i think a year or so after they get married (stella is like 30ish) they start to really do their research and find the best fertility clinic in the city. its been almost 20 years since kendall and rava struggled to get pregnant, but still, he's not feeling optimistic.

stella gets a clean bill of health from the doctor, but ken isn't so lucky. just as he suspected, he was the problem. again.

was it the drugs? he was clean now, but he used so much...could he have ruined his chances forever?

stella assures him that it'll be okay, but she never went through what he had to 20 years ago.

they decide on a couple of treatments. they're both taking shots every day and pills at night and its exhausting. most of the meds go to kendall, but stella has to take some too, just in case.

they begin with intrauterine insemination, which is pretty simple and painless, but stella gets her period two weeks later. its hard on both of them, but especially kendall because he knows it's him, not her.

next they try ivf, which is a lot more complicated and expensive (not that money is an issue). now they both have to do injections and stella goes in for her egg retrieval.

the egg retrieval goes better than expected and they're left with 10. ken's sample has some relatively viable sperm so they pull the trigger and try to make some embryos.

the waiting is by-far the worst part, because deep down kendall knows there's no way those embryos are going to get made with his shitty sperm. he's right, unfortunately, and they're back to square one with zero embryos and ten now-frozen eggs.

kendall suggests a donor, like they did with iverson. stella's heartbroken, but they start to look into other options.

because they have the best doctors, however, they get into a trial for a new drug that increases sperm count and viability. stella is thrilled and insists kendall try it, but it's another injection and he's not super happy about it. nothing has ever worked for him, why now?

it's nice to have a break from more intense treatments, so they agree and kendall marks his torso up with injection pricks again.

three months later, ken and stella are enjoying some time off from surgery and tiny, microscopic cells that control their lives. kendall's in new york for the week, working on some financials for their production company (i imagine them making something rival to waystar and completely taking over the media scene), and stella is holding it down in los angeles, or at least trying to.

it's flu season and she's been to so many fancy parties in the last few weeks, stella is sick as a dog. she's a little worried, but the nausea, vomiting and headaches are typical for the flu, right?

she also chalks her late period up to stress. but it's been at least a few weeks...

the day before kendall is supposed to come home, stella drives herself to the hospital after she can't stop throwing up.

"when did the symptoms start?" the doctor asks.

"a week ago, i think, but ive been feeling kind of off for a while."

"and there's no chance you're pregnant? when was your last period?"

stella's heart skips a beat.

"um, i'm not sure. we're trying, uh, but it's been unsuccessful. my period is really irregular and i've been stressed so--" she trails off. "we've been trying for a couple of years."

"and are you taking medication?"

"i did, but it's not really..." she thinks for a bit. "it's not a uterus issue, it's my husband."

"and what is he taking?"

she tells the doctor about the new medication kendall is taking. "it's only been three months, so we're still hopeful. or at least i am."

"i've heard some great things about that new drug. it's really changing people's lives." the doctor smiles, turning away from stella and writing something down. "i'm going to order some tests, but i think you're fine."

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

kendall, obviously, sprints to his jet when stella tells him she's sick. she insists she's fine, but wants him to come home as soon as he can, which stresses him out to no avail.

he bursts through the door four hours later, finding stella reading a magazine on the couch.

"stell!" he says, running towards her.

"hey baby." she hugs him, bringing him down to the couch with her. stella presses her lips to his, but kendall is confused.

"aren't you sick?" he pulls away.

her face breaks into a huge smile. "about that..." stella gets up from the couch and walks to the kitchen.

kendall looks at her quizzically, as she comes back with a piece of paper in her hands.

"i have something to show you." she says, holding the paper close to her.

"okay..." kendall smiles at her, utterly confused.

stella carefully sits next to him on the couch. "here."

kendall recognizes the picture immediately. he used to frame them when rava was pregnant with iverson.

"what is this?" he holds up the ultrasound. it's too good to be true, right? tears prick his eyes.

stella is crying already, and takes his hand. "that's inside of me."

he looks down at the black and white photo again. a fuzzy, bean-looking object sits, next to another, smaller object. he's speechless for the first time in his life.

"what is that?" he whispers, pointing to the smaller object on the page.

stella looks at him, and he really can't read her for once.

"this surprise comes with another surprise." she laughs.

kendall's crying, but he takes another look. "is that..."

"yeah."

"two?" he smiles wide.

"i'm pregnant." she finally says, putting her hands on his cheeks. "baby, we're having twins."

they both burst out into crying giggles, hugging. kendall kisses her all over, stopping at her stomach. it's still pretty flat, but he knows her body so well he swears he can see a tiny bump growing.

THIS WAS SO FUN AND LOVELY TO WRITE I LOVE THEM AND I HOPE U DO TOO

#kendall roy x oc #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy

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plushii-gutz · 2 months

Text

Part 6 yes a cool chapter oOoo - I skipped ahead about a week

☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆

Galvana's training alongside Sage had progressed quickly over the last few weeks. However, Sage's discomfort became present after the celestial had begun asking for specific abilities. They didn't care, though. She taught them anyway. That's all they really needed.

Galvana learned how to redirect the energy of life from one plant to another. They learned how to send jolts of electric blasts in cases of emergency. They learned how to climb more efficiently, run faster, jump higher - all with the help of their robotic companion and the elemental combination. Galvana was proud of themself. Sage was, too.

But she saw more than Galvana's ability to learn so quickly. She saw how much stress they seemed to be under, how strangely close they would observe her. They began to rant more often, become frustrated when they failed to master something within the span of a couple of days, displayed abilities that the wubbox had never taught them nor wanted them to learn.

Their physical appearance had begun to change, too.

Galvana's eyes had grown something fierce within them, the tiny blood vessels inside them becoming more visible as time went on. They seemed to stand taller than before - something that only Sage would be able to recognize. Their horns had begun to grow further forward, like two daggers that formed a crown, and the way they spoke gave Sage chills along her spine.

She grew anxious. She was almost scared of who Galvana was becoming within such little time. She wanted to distance herself, but the young monster made it all too clear that only Sage would ever listen to the horrible thoughts in their mind.

The two monsters had finished training not long ago, now resting in the fading sunny rays and enjoying the last few hours of daylight.

"Scaratar is leaving tomorrow," Galvana mumbled.

"So soon?" The wubbox said.

"Yeah. This castle won't be very stable once she does."

"Wha..what'cha implying?"

"She's the only sane celestial around. How could a poison monster be kinder than Earth? The second she leaves, Furnoss isn't going to stand up to any of the other idiots I have to deal with. Vhamp never leaves its fucking room, Plixie never shuts up, Torrt breaks everything he touches, Blasoom always needs to be the center of attention, Hornacle is.. He creeps me out. Something isn't right about that guy."

Sage gave a slow nod.

"Say.. uh, 'Vana?"

"What?"

"After, uh.. after tomorrow, I'm thinkin' we should take a little break."

Galvana sat taller.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean.. I think we need to sort of split up for a bit. We've been seeing each other every day nonstop! Don'cha think we need to settle down for at least a second?"

"Is there a reason?"

"Galvana, I'm tired, alright?" Sage raised her voice. "I know you enjoy spending time with me. I enjoy it, too! I've just been feelin' smothered lately. You talked about hanging out with Vhamp - why not try that out again? Sure, it's in its room all the time, but aren't you too?"

The plant wubbox held her breath after the last statement. Maybe that came across wrong. Maybe.

The electric monster rose to their feet, their expression nothing more than mild annoyance. However, deep in their eyes, it was as if a storm was brewing. Without another word, Galvana fled from the trees. Sage called out an apology but was met with no response. The truth was out. She couldn't take back the harshness that left with it. Although she wasn't happy with herself, at least now she would have a second to breathe.

The castle door swung open and spammed shut, shaking the entire first floor with its strength and causing a few heads to emerge from their rooms. At first, due to the strong shaking, Vhamp was under the impression Torrt had gotten home in a lesser mood, but upon inspection, they realized that he hadn't ever left. Torrt was in his own room, connected to the same game he and Plixie played so often, while Blasoom spectated nearby. However, the sudden noise sparked his curiosity, and it dragged him to the hallway. They actually seemed surprised to spot Galvana of all monsters to have caused such a ruckus.

Furnoss stuck his head out of the kitchen, considering giving Galvana a stern talking to over the increasingly irritable attitude, but ultimately decided not to waste his time. Torrt leaned into the microphone of his headset.

"Hey, Plix?" He said in a quiet tone. "Should we check in on 'vana or..?"

"Was that what I heard? Fuck. No - why should we?" She spat. "We've tried since we were kids to get them to speak. All they do is complain that Glaishur is alive! Sure, they lost their powers, but when will they ever need those? We hardly use ours!"

"If you ask me," Blasoom added in, "the way Strombonin talked about them is enough to tell me that they're better off without powers! He said they electrocuted him!"

"That didn't happen.. did it?"

"Torrt, why would he lie to us?"

"I dunno. I mean, I feel like we're being sorta harsh to them."

"Revive me, asshole!" Plixie yelled, changing the topic back to the game at hand.

Torrt nearly fell from his chair. After they had helped the plasma monster up, they hopped off the game, no longer interested in the play or the conversation.

He spoke with Scaratar often, and as of recent, all of her ramblings led back to Galvana and their behavior. She wasn't upset with them, nor did she blame their anger. If anything, she was more annoyed with how the rest reacted. Then again, Torrt heard of what the other side thought and believed. He couldn't pick a side, especially when both had an argument.

Now wasn't a time to ponder over puzzles that will never be solved. Maybe Furnoss needed some help.

Furnoss had been making a plentiful of meals for Scaratar to take along her journey, most of which were non-perishable. One of these treats seemed to grab Torrt's attention; a freshly baked pie! Surely Scaratar wouldn't mind if a piece was missing, right? Unfortunately, it seems Furnoss would. He was quick to smack the Earth celestial's hand away.

"Not for you!" He jokingly bickered. "But really, I wouldn't recommend eating any of this - unless you have the poison element."

"What'dya mean?"

"I didn't want the berries Scaratar grew going to waste, so I made this! However, they are extremely poisonous, and I don't want you or any of the rest to try and sneak a bite! You know we don't have Viola anymore to keep us from dying."

Torrt agreed with a small shrug. He asked if Furnoss needed any help, eyeing the many bowls of batter or dirtied baking sheets. The older monster was quick to deny.

"Are you sure? I mean, I would'a assumed you were done. There's a lot here," Torrt motioned to the table. There were mountains of baked goods, containers of meals, baskets of fresh fruit, jugs of clean water - it was enough to feed the entire castle for weeks.

"Just a few more," Furnoss insisted. "You see these baskets? I have woven them myself! Viveine had shown me how last visit. I restored those jugs on my own as well. All the fruit was foraged by hand, I churned the butter myself and went through many recipes until everything was perfect - can you believe it? I've never kept so busy!"

The earth monster fidgeted with his hands uncomfortably. That certainly seemed like a lot. They were timid with their next question.

"Furnoss?"

"Yes?"

"Do you- have you taken a break at all?"

"Now why would I do that? There's far too much to finish!"

"I mean.. like I said, there's already a lot done."

The fire celestial turned briefly to place down a new tray of dried apple slices, immediately picking up the next batch to place into the oven. It only took a quick glance to see how grayed his face was, how strange his expression was.

"Have you been sleepin' at all?" Torrt pushed on.

"A smunkin appeared in Blasoom's garden," Furnoss changed the topic. "Can you believe that? No one seems to know how it got there. I was thinking of making those smunkin-spiced cookies Glaishur likes. Maybe he and Attmoz could use a care package, too! Would you mind fetching it for me?"

"Uh.. On it, boss," the earth monster tried to joke. He was visibly saddened and a bit uncomfortable, but was happy to leave for the outdoors.

The sky was shades of blue and purple now, a smidge of pink still barely visible the distant hills and trees. Torrt walked along the right side of the castle and towards the back, glancing over to the nearby woods in admiration of the beautiful colors that seeped in between the trunks. He couldn't help but notice the broken, burnt streaks within the bark. They don't recall any kind of lighting or storming. These must be old.

Around back, the monster looked over the vast garden he had assisted in creating. The stone statues and once freshly dug earth seemed to settle into their spots at his arrival, almost greeting him as he walked past and into the greenhouse.

Torrt recalled that day with ease. He was the one who dug up the land, finding a few shiny stones as he had - which Hornacle had promptly stolen. Or 'borrowed,' as he called it. Blasoom and Scaratar had begun their spreading of saplings as Attmoz provided a cloud for shade, Torrt coming back in to cover everything up. A little rain and time brought them everything they have to this day.

Although they had many fond memories to reminisce on, he tried to pay attention to the task at hand. The door to the greenhouse swung open, and before Torrt had the chance to figure out how his shell would fit through, they found themselves tripping forward and crushing something beneath himself.

"Oh.. oh."

The sticky remains of the smunkin clung onto his chest and face, dyeing him a translucent orange. They lifted himself from the ground, looking over the mess they had made.

"This.. probably ain't good anymore."

Having failed such a simple task filled the monster with embarrassment, even more so as he realized there was no way to start over. Furnoss would understand it was an accident. Hopefully. Torrt moved the mess outside into the grass, unsure as to where else he could lead it, and slowly hobbled back into the castle with a new, messier look.

He was a little surprised to see Vhamp standing at Galvana's bedroom door, debating whether or not it should knock. It was odd to see the mechanical monster with any expression other than mild annoyance, even more so for it to seem worried. Whatever Vhamp intended to do, he ultimately went against it, returning to his own room.

As if the situation wasn't awkward enough, Torrt walked into the kitchen to find Furnoss being comforted by Scaratar, the fire monster visibly in silent tears.

"You're exhausted," Scaratar spoke softly. "I know you're trying to keep busy, but this isn't healthy. You need to rest."

"I know," the firey monster admitted, "but I just.. I worry for you."

"Furnoss, I feel like there's more to this than just worry. I don't say this with ill intent, but you didn't react this way with Syncopite, even less so Attmoz and Glaishur.. is something else on your mind?"

Torrt kept himself hidden from view, knowing that this conversation was certainly not for their ears to hear. Furnoss lowered his head.

"Why is everyone leaving?"

Of all the questions Scaratar had prepared herself for, this was certainly not one of them. Her antenna twitched at his breaking voice, and she hoped deeply that her collected tone would have some sort of shift on the air around them.

"The same reason any other monster leaves their home. There's a whole world out there for us to see. Sure, it has many risks, but we have this opportunity to experience what we never thought we would."

"It's so.. odd," the fire monster perked up. "I know none of you have any memories of Starhenge, but even there, we were never apart. Not once in my life did I vision myself without you and the other celestials around me."

"I understand it's a lot. I don't want to sound mean, but I noticed a.. progression. In how you reacted to each of us leaving. I wish I could tell you more, but what I have said is true. It will be incredibly hard to cope with, but.. I know you'll be ok."

"You're leaving tomorrow. The Colossals know how I will respond."

"Then do it with bravery."

The two rise from the kitchen at Scaratar's order, taking Furnoss to the hallway, and soon the room so he can finally get the rest he needs. Torrt quickly moved out of the way to ensure he was never seen. Maybe it would be best if he cleaned himself up and never spoke of the destroyed smunkin.

☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆

Morning came sooner than any monster had anticipated. Humbug, accompanied by Ghazt, had arrived at the castles door mere minutes after breakfast had been finished. Outside, the two Ethereals helped carry the extra meals Furnoss had made the days previous, Scaratar able to drag her luggage along with ease. There wasn't a lot to pack, apart from the many gifts she was given for her journey.

She was dressed with a long sun hat, a brilliantly decorated dress hiding her insectoid appearance from any wandering monsters' eyes. Although she was told she would be heading directly to an apartment, the poison monster knew for a fact she would wander the streets for a little while after. Even if she did encounter trouble, it was nothing she couldn't handle.

The rest of the household stood outside, the same way they had with Syncopite and the couple. Something about Scaratar's departure seemed to strike more than just sorrow within their minds. Being in the middle, she was the link that held everyone together in terms of understanding. She brought confidence to the castle - something that a handful of the Celestials had lacked. She would be deeply missed for sure, but promised to give them an update on every adventure she went on - the same way Syncopite had promised.

Surprisingly, it was Galvana who stood outside first. They had been outside during breakfast as well, bitterly watching the Ethereal monsters arrive. Neither seemed bothered by the supernatural monsters appearance at first, but the longer their eyes dug into them, the more they wished for Scaratar to hurry. Of course, she did.

Each Celestial took a turn, saying their farewells. Furnoss held the side of his head, unsure of what he could say in this moment.

"Be careful," he finally said. "Be careful."

And she would. Scaratar made sure each got a hug, words of support, perhaps share an occasional joke or reminisce on their past. As usual, she left Torrt in charge. He wasn't surprised, but amused nonetheless.

Finally, Galvana's turn. The poison monster leaned in for a hug, only to be tackled by her young friend. They held on tightly, a clear desperation in their strength and a painful sadness in their voice.

"Please don't go," they begged.

"I'm sorry," she said in return. "I'll be back for you - I promise. You just have to wait."

Moments passed before the two were released from one another. Scaratar had never seen Galvana as pained as they appeared in this moment, even after everything that had.. happened. She was hesitant to leave now, but she knew it wouldn't be smart to wait too long. The streets would become active very soon.

With Ghazt opening one of their many interdimensional portals and Humbugs excited nature, the final farewell had been made. Scaratar left to explore the grand city, leaving everyone else behind.

"Well.. this sucks," Plixie huffed, putting her hands in the pocket of an old hoodie handed down to her from Glaishur.

"If I ever leave, one of you is coming with me!" Blasoom stamped one of her talons into the grass.

"I could," Hornacle offered. "How does Water Island sound?"

"No one is going anywhere," Furnoss cut the conversation short. He motioned to the castle. It was time to return to normal life. As normal as it could be.

Galvana left for inside, intending to return to their room. They made a quick stop by the kitchen, though, to grab something to snack on while they continued working on the project that had started with Vhamp's help all that time ago. Unfortunately, it was a solo project now. It had to be.

The electric monsters eye was caught by one remaining dish that Scaratar had left behind: a pie.

#my singing monsters #fallen stars msm #msm #fallen stars au #msm au #msm oc #fanfiction

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