#it’s just… I can’t help but wonder (and dread) what follows this show

[goodfcknlord]

watching all the reviews for jury duty come in and glow about the show’s execution is… kind of wild. because on one hand, the actors are so incredibly talented and the producers did an insane job and it’s objectively really well-done, but on the other hand, wtf?

when the truman show came out, it was accepted that what was happening to truman was psychologically horrifying and objectively Wrong. watching everybody just,,, accept,,, that a man’s reality was completely constructed for a few weeks and that his life is probably somewhat irrevocably changed from the experience without really criticizing the complete loss of control in over his image and reality he underwent.

and I UNDERSTAND that the main character technically consented to being on camera for a documentary on jury duty, but he didn’t agree to the ninety-seven plus hidden cameras they’d stuck around the court room + every other set, or the notoriety he’s been experiencing since the show aired. in the age of tiktok and instagram catching people on camera without their consent + catapulting people to millions of views without their permission, this show only really redeems itself by being relentlessly positive and kind about their main character (because it’d also be kind of inhumane to film a guy without his consent and then be mean to him, also.)

I guess it just makes me wonder about the precedent shows like this set. Jury Duty does a good job making their main character the good guy, and making themselves and the actors the butt of the joke. But given the reception it’s received, it makes me wonder about the likelihood of shows like it being made as well, in Jury Duty’s lieu—in which producers choose to punch down more often, and paint their subjects in increasingly unsympathetic lights (especially given California and Silicon Valley’s habit of glamorizing disagreement and discord, seeing how it historically sells better). I wonder what the next Ronald experiences, if there is a next season, or how the next show after this chooses to paint their main character, and how much their audience is going to care about the consent their actors provided before subjecting them to uncomfortable and out-of-control conditions that were then blown up in front of millions of people to see.

#jury duty #truman show #long post #again nothing against any of the actors or the producers who all did a really good job because the show really is clever and well done #it’s just… I can’t help but wonder (and dread) what follows this show #it just seems insane that nobody seems worried #dude got SHOW ASSIGNED THERAPY from the producers after this show aired to make sure he was ok #like ??

[reiding-writing]

Hiiii, first of all i wanna say congratsss!! You’re an amazing writer and i LOVE your stuff! Secondly, i would like to mention that i’ve never actually made a request before so bear with me 😬 Okay okay, so i was wondering if you could write cold!reader with angsty prompt 28. "I can't believe I didn't see that coming." and general prompt 23. “I thought I’d lost you.” Maybe spencer gets hurt and reader shows emotion (maybe some tears) and the team is all like ???

(feel free to ignore this btw 💗💗)

CLOSE CALL [CLIMACTERIC]

28. “I can’t believe I didn’t see that coming.”

23. “I thought I’d lost you.”

WARNINGS: fem!reader, guns, hostage situation, character death, reader is her typical rash self, happy ending

spencer reid x cold!reader || hurt/comfort || 2.8k ||

a/n: thank you <3 i’m honoured to be the conduit you chose for your first request and i hope this is what you envisioned 🫶

main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ cold!reader masterlist!!

event masterlist!!

Spencer’s hands shake so much as he pulls off his bulletproof vest you’re not sure how he has enough articulation in his fingers to do so in the first place.

“Reid, you’re not ready to do this.” Your words aren’t as harsh as they are truthful, but it cuts him down the same anyhow. “Let me or Hotch do it.”

“No, I need to do this myself,” Spencer shakes his head determinedly, and if he wasn’t so focused on the sheer amount of adrenaline running through his veins right no he’d probably be proud of himself for standing up to you and not just following your word as law, but alas, the only thing he could feel right now is absolute dread. “He won’t listen to you.”

Why was it always him that got personally involved with the unsubs? It was like they were a heat-seeking missile locked only onto his location.

Literally locked onto his location in this case. He’d seen him —Daniel as he called himself— on the train home from work, in the coffee shop he frequented, the local library, and he swears he also saw him parked in his apartment building’s parking lot.

It was like he was silently screaming at Spencer to notice him, and when he finally got to speak to the man, he asked for help. He was afraid. He was afraid of himself because he was having horribly intrusive thoughts that made him want to do terrible things and he viewed Spencer as his only scapegoat. Pros and cons of being all over the news for his job he supposes.

Spencer really did try to help him, but every suggestion he made was shut down like they weren’t good enough, like Daniel wanted Spencer to physically go into his brain and remove all of the faulty parts that were making him feel insane.

Spencer’s help just wasn’t good enough, and it lead to multiple people dying as a result.

And now Daniel was holding a woman hostage in her own house.

How was he supposed to not feel solely responsible for that?

Spencer had to be the one to speak to him. Not you or Hotch and your negotiation training, him and his personal connection to all the deaths that had happened because he wasn’t able to help someone that was begging him to save them from their own mind.

He practically shoves his revolver into your hand as he commits to going inside, taking a second to regulate his breathing before emerging from behind the SUVs to approach the closed front door, leaving you all in wait, guns raised at every window in the event that something goes wrong.

Something was bound to go wrong.

“Reid the minute that something feels off you leave, understand?” It technically wasn’t your call to make, but as you spoke into the small radio on your chest you weren’t really thinking about that. It’s not like Hotch would disagree with you anyway.

There’s a few seconds of silence over the radio, even though you know he heard you from the slight jolt in his spine as he reached the front door of the house. “Reid. Tell me that you understand that.”

“Copy,”

You had half the mind to drag him back into the car from that response alone. He clearly wasn’t listening to you, not properly anyway, and having such an emotional involvement in something like this was going to get him killed if he treated it the wrong way.

“Be careful,” Hotch was less antagonistic in his warning, but it held the same message.

Spencer threw an arbitrary thumbs up above his head before knocking on the door of the house and entering slowly with both his arms raised.

Then it was a waiting game. A stalemate where you had to sit with your guns trained and just wait for any sign of change. It was like absolute torture.

It was virtual silence and tumble weeds for the best of five minutes, and then there was a loud gunshot sound that echoed from inside the walls of the house, and all of that waiting felt for naught as you pressed the button on your radio with a steady stream of trepidation raising in your throat that he might not answer you. “Reid? Reid come in.”

You wait for something to come from the other side of the radio, even if it’s just the crackle of static from him pressing the button without actually speaking into it. But all you get is silence, and it makes that sinking feeling grow until you literally feel like you’re about to throw up your stomach.

You don’t think twice about running towards the front door of the house after you don’t get an answer, ignoring the calls of Hotch for you to back down and let SWAT take care of it so he didn’t possibly lose two agents instead of just one.

He knew you weren’t going to listen to him either way.

You open the door with your pistol raised at your eyes, the weight of Spencer’s revolver tucked into the waistband of your jeans acting both as an instrument to ground you and as a torturous reminder that the gunshot you heard couldn’t have possibly been from him.

It had to have come from Daniel.

Logically you should’ve swept the ground floor first before rushing straight into the dining room where you knew the three had been last, in case Daniel had left the room and approached you from behind.

You don’t of course, and you kick open the barricaded dining room door with enough force to splinter the door frame holding the hinge pin in place, the door hitting the wall with a thud.

The sight you’re met with is not what you expected to find.

“Reid—” You drop your gun to your side the second your eyes land on the back of his head, his back to you and his eyes locked on Daniel, lying on his back on the dining room floor with a bullet hole to the side of his head, his blood slowly pooling on the linoleum.

The woman he had hostage was alive too, thank god, practically trying to melt into the corner as she cried into her hands, obviously still in shock over what happened.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see that coming,” Spencer’s words didn’t feel like they were coming from himself as he spoke, his voice feeling detached from his consciousness as his mind focused on fully comprehending the situation.

“I can’t believe how stupid you are—” Your body forces a sharp breath to leave your mouth as it cools don from the adrenaline rushing through your system, and you pull Spencer backwards by his arm to stop the blood from Daniel’s body reaching his shoes. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I just- I don’t know,” Spencer gives up on trying to find an explanation for his actions before even really thinking about it. He knows there’s no use, because he really wasn’t thinking, it was just acting on instinct.

“You see this Reid?” You give the radio on his chest a pull with your hand, causing him to stumble forward towards you in the process. “It’s a radio, use it.” There’s no denying the insurmountable rage in your tone as you berate Spencer for his carelessness, something that he most definitely deserves as he stands there nodding at you like an idiot.

You let go of his radio with a small push, sending him stumbling backwards this time, and you take a second to compose yourself before pressing on your own radio to communicate with the rest of the team. “I’ve got Reid and the hostage alive. The unsub shot himself.”

“Copy that, we’re coming in.”

Hotch’s voice may as well be a leaf in the wind as Spencer puts his full focus into how absolutely furious you seem with him.

“I’m sorry—”

”Sorry isn’t good enough.” You ignore the arrival of your teammates in the house, how they carefully guide the hostage outside to get her looked over by the ambulance waiting outside and how they secure the scene for the forensics team to deal with. “You cannot throw your life away by running head first into a dangerous situation knowing you can’t defend yourself.”

“I thought—”

“What? That it’d be fine? That you all of a sudden had all the training you needed to talk down an armed serial killer with serious delusions that could leave you as his next victim?” Maybe you we’re being a bit too harsh on him, but it was important he understood exactly what could’ve gone wrong. “You might be a genius Reid, but you are the dumbest goddamn person I have ever met.”

Spencer presses his lips together into a line at your declaration, lowering his head until his gaze is firmly planted on the floor.

“You are not an expendable resource, you can’t be replaced, and you need to understand that before you throw yourself into a possible line of fire do you understand me?” You ignore the lingering gaze of Hotch as you continue your verbal assault on Spencer, and you know you’ll probably get an earful yourself for being so hard on him, but he gave you a real scare, and you were expressing that to him in the way that suited you most.

“Yes I understand, I’m sorry…” The slight waver of his voice as he responds to you is enough to knock your anger down a peg, and you drag your hand down your face with a sigh.

“We were scared for you Reid, you could’ve died.”

“I know…”

You give another soft sigh at the voice he barely keeps his voice controlled as he whispers out his answer to you, on the verge of tears from your thorough verbal assault.

“Don’t do it again. I thought I’d lost you.” You lift up one of your hands to put it on his shoulder, although it lands closer to the curve of his neck, prompting his face upwards to meet your eyes once more. “And as much as you can be idiotic, the team needs you alive.”

He gives you a soft hum as an answer this time, not trusting his voice to not crack if he were to speak properly.

He tries not to focus on the warmth of your hand on his neck, nor on the fact that you’d said ‘I’ instead of ‘we’ when talking about being concerned for his safety under fear of only worsening his attempts at keeping himself composed.

Your gaze softens marginally as you spot the glassiness of his eyes, and for a second he swears that the protective shield you cover yourself with disappears to show the amount of concern you truly felt for him.

“I’m okay… I promise,” He nods softly at you with rounded eyes. He’s mildly flattered by how much you care, but he doesn’t want you to show it as concern, positive emotions suited you much better he thinks.

“You’re lucky, and it won’t last forever,” You use you hand against his shoulder to turn him around, pushing him gently towards the front door and using the opportunity of him not facing you to swallow the start of your own tears, clearing your throat into your elbow as he takes your lead in leaving the house.

“Reid,” Hotch is on top of the two of you before you even walk out the door. “Go and meet Morgan by the ambulance, I want you checked over,”

“But—“

“Go,” Hotch’s inherent ability to be authoritative trumps Spencer’s resistance immediately, and Spencer begrudgingly leaves your side with a small “yes sir,” to go and be checked out by one of the EMTs.

You attempt to follow him at first, but you’re promptly stopped by Hotch raising his hand in your direction, and then gesturing you over to him.

“Berating somebody for running into a dangerous situation head first with how you responded is very—“

“Hypocritical, I know,” You interrupt the end of Hotch’s sentence by finishing it yourself. “But if he hadn’t gotten into that situation in the first place then I wouldn’t have had to respond the way I did,”

“I understand you care about Reid,” Hotch crosses his arms over his chest, and although there is zero malice in his expression or his tone, you can still tell that he’s not exactly happy with you right now. “But you also need to be more careful with how you handle yourself,”

You narrow your gaze at him a little, and he mirrors it right back at you. “You can’t worry about keeping Reid alive if you’re not alive yourself, you need to be more careful, understand?”

“Yes sir,” The words are almost begrudging as they leave your mouth, but you know he’s right really. Running in after Spencer without a second thought and then berating him for being reckless was hypocritical, and you probably deserved to be reprimanded for it.

—

“You really gave her a scare you know,” Morgan speaks, prompted by Spencer’s very obvious lingering glances in your direction as you speak with Hotch.

“I know,” Spencer sighs dejectedly as he finally removes his eyes from you to allow the paramedic in front of him to check his pupillary response. “She made sure of that,”

“She cares about you Reid,” Morgan gives him a squeeze on his shoulder. “You’re gonna give the poor girl a heart attack if you keep this up,”

“That’s quite dramatic, the chances of somebody going into cardiac arrest from shock is extremely low, only 5% of all cases, and technically it would actually be cardiogenic shock, which isn’t a heart attack,”

“It’s a figure of speech Reid,” Morgan gives him a small playful shove after the paramedic has finished his evaluation, rolling his eyes. “Point is, you scared her, and I don’t know whether to be amazed or concerned at the fact that’s even possible,”

“She’s just as likely to be afraid as anyone else,” Spencer bites his cheek at Morgan’s declaration, unsure whether he should feel guilty or flustered at just how much you seemed to care about him, from the words of the rest of the team anyway.

“I mean yeah we were all worried about you, but she ran head first into the house with a potentially manic shooter inside, by herself, after Hotch told her to wait for backup,” Morgan gives Spencer a light nudge with his elbow, raising his eyebrows with an amused expression. “You know what I call that? Favouritism,”

Spencer lets out a small airy laugh, shaking his head as he stands from the edge of the ambulance.

“Face it pretty boy, you’re stuck with her for life, even if it means she follows you into an early grave,” The teasing in Morgan’s voice is unmistakeable, but his words ring truth either way. “Let’s just make sure you don’t end up in an early grave alright?”

“Yeah—” Spencer lets out another small breath through his mouth as Morgan pats his hand between his shoulder blades, gesturing for Spencer to follow him towards the rest of the team with a nod of his head.

Spencer doesn’t want to cut himself short just yet, especially if that means you’ll serve yourself the same fate. Although the idea of having you accompany him, even if it did mean in whatever lies after death, didn’t sound like too bad of an idea.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #climacteric 🪶

[mountttmase]

Winter Sun - Chapter 6

Note - happy valentines guys 🥺 the second to last chapter I actually can’t believe it like how did we get here. I know a lot of you have been dreading this moment and won’t actually read it until next week but I hope you enjoy and I’m sorry in advance 😌🩷 I know it’s not the best thing to read on a day like today but I would love some feedback so please let me know what you think if you’d like to 🩷

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 8k

Warnings - series will contain fluff, smut & angst

Masterlist

Waking up wrapped up in Masons arms wasn’t something you ever pictured at the start of this holiday. Another rule broken but you could look past this one.

He was adorable, his hair a mess as it fell over his forehead making him look even more boyish and charming than usual and his eyebrows were pinched together making him almost look irritated but it was his pretty pink pout you loved the most. Wanting to reach down so you could kiss him properly but you knew you shouldn’t.

As quickly and as quietly as you could, you got yourself out of his grip and made your way back to your room. Popping a gentle kiss on his head as you did so before getting ready for your last day by the pool. You wanted to get there a little earlier today just in case Ben was waiting for you and your suspicions were confirmed when you found him outside already.

‘You all ready for your lesson, y/n?’ Ben smiled as soon as you stepped outside and you nodded at him shyly.

Truth be told, you were a little apprehensive about coming out here today after the drama of yesterday. Not wanting everyone to look at you sympathetically or for anyone to make a fuss but thankfully it was just Ben and Woody out here for the moment and when the latter sent you a bright smile you returned it.

‘I think so’

‘Good I was researching all night and I think I’ve devised the perfect lesson’ he smiled proudly so after a big deep breath you made your way to the steps of the pool and Ben came to stand next to you. ‘It’s not so deep just here, should come to your waist so you’ll be alright’ he smiled but when he held his hand out you took it before following him into the pool.

You felt your knees shake a little with each step you took but soon enough you’d made it all the way down and Ben was right, the water was just past your waist and you felt like half the battle was done already.

You started off holding onto the sides, letting your body float with a little help from Woody before you could do it on your own and you began to kick your legs.

‘What’s going on out here?’ You suddenly heard, looking up to see Mason stood just outside the door with an unreadable expression on his face.

‘Swimming lesson’ Ben told him, looking up at him nervously as they hadn’t spoken since Mason snapped at him yesterday but you knew Mason couldn’t stay mad at him for long.

Mason didn’t answer, just nodded his head once before walking back inside and you felt your heart sink. He hadn’t even looked at you before going in and you wondered if you should follow him in but Ben was ready for the next part of your lesson so you just ignored it for now.

You and Ben were surprised at how quickly you managed to pick up the basics but no one was more surprised than Carly. Excitedly squealing as you showed her your new tricks before grabbing her phone to take some photos in order to commemorate the big moment.

Mason still hadn't come back outside even after everyone else had and once your lesson was over and once you’d dried off you still couldn’t find him inside anywhere but when you came outside again there he was sat. All on his own on the table to the opposite side of where the pair of you could normally be found.

You wanted to speak to him but his attitude this morning was making you feel unsure of yourself until you gave yourself a pep talk. This was Mason, the boy who kissed you like you were his own yesterday and whose arms you fell asleep in last night so you shook yourself off and made your way over to him.

‘Mase?’ You asked, standing in front of him so that he’d look at you and when he eventually did were shocked at his blank expression. ‘Why are you sat over here all alone?

He didn’t answer you, just shrugged before looking back at his phone and you didn’t know what to do. He’d never been this way with you before ever and you were shocked at how cold he was acting towards you after yesterday.

‘Can I get you a drink? Anything to eat?’

‘No thanks’

You were stumped, your tummy sinking lower the longer he looked away from you so eventually you did the only thing you could and walked away from him. Going back to your own lounger and sitting down but you could see Ben moving out of the corner of your eye.

‘I’ll go have a word with him. We haven’t spoken since yesterday so it’s probably me he’s in a mood with’ he told you. Watching him stalk off over to the other side of the pool and chat to Mason for a few seconds before their pair of them went out of sight.

You weren’t sure what you’d done to make him not want to talk to you or even sit by you so you let Ben go and see to him. Watching the pair of them stand up and walk down to the grassy area that was just out of sight and even though it was none of your business you were itching to know what they were talking about.

When they came back Mason was smiling and laughing with Ben but he still didn’t come and sit with you. Making it clear that it was you he had the issue with and you felt your eyes fill with tears. You tried blinking them away but it was no use, you were upset and confused and no longer wanted to be out there with him so you quickly got up and rushed back inside to your room. You knew he was watching you leave but he made no attempt to follow you and you didn’t know if you were sad or relieved about it.

‘Stop crying’ you whispered to yourself once you were in the safy of your bathroom. Fanning your face and dabbing your eyes to try and stop yourself having a full on meltdown but you were so confused by his actions you didn’t know how to behave.

You thought about spending the rest of the day in your room but that seemed a little dramatic so with one final look in the mirror you made your way outside again. Not before chucking on a cover up as you felt a little uncomfortable being so exposed in front of him again for some reason but by the time you were back outside Mason had moved again. Sat on his side of your shared lounger and your heart gave a thump at the sight of him.

You didn’t know what to do, would it be awkward if you went and sat there again? Or would it be more awkward if you went and sat somewhere else?

In the end you went back over, sitting up right as he was laid back and you made no attempt to even look at him until you felt his fingers close around your wrist. Turing to look at him with a blank expression as his eyes looked deeply into yours.

He didn’t say a word, just patted his chest with his free hand as an invitation for you to lay on him and even though you desperately didn’t want to give into him that quickly you felt yourself shuffling around to face him. Laying back in his arms so you could place your head on his chest and when he squeezed you tightly you felt yourself on the brink once more.

‘Why did you get dressed?’ He asked you quietly, his hand reaching up and under your top so he could lightly run his fingers across your skin but you just shook your head as you nuzzled into him further. Not able to string a few words together as you were feeling shy and unsure of yourself but he only held you tighter.

You knew this was his way of saying sorry without actually saying it and even though you so desperately wanted to talk to him about what was bothering him, you also didn’t want to push your luck and push him away any further away.

So you laid there in silence. Listening to one another’s breathing as Ben's music played over the speakers in the background. The warm sun on your skin as you soaked up the last of it that you could only for it to hit you that this was probably the last time you’d be able to lay like this with Mason out here.

Everything seemed to have turned into a mess overnight and the prospect of this being the last time you could do this together had you subconsciously cling onto him a little harder.

‘I’m just popping inside to get a drink’ he suddenly murmured against you forehead, pulling away slightly but in your panic you held him in place.

‘I can get that’ you told him, the incessant need to please him taking over as you went to sit up but he was holding onto you tightly and you couldn’t move.

‘It’s okay, I’ll get it’ he whispered. ‘Would you like anything?’

‘No thanks’ you told him. Releasing him so he could go and when he came back you noticed he had a bottle of water for you anyway.

This time he didn’t invite you to lay with him, crawling next to you and placing his head on your chest this time and your hand automatically went into his hair so you could run your fingers through it. Feeling him hum into your neck as you stroked his skin and when he reached up under your top again you let him. His fingers splayed out against your ribs so he could hold you close before hooking his leg over yours.

You felt him shuffling about again soon after. Keeping his hand on your body but rolling you onto your side as he laid his head on the pillow next to yours so you could face each other. The small smile on his lips settled you slightly but his sad eyes were throwing you off.

Ever the unexpected, he lent forward just a touch to place a kiss on the end of your nose before settling back down again. Shutting his eyes but you didn’t follow suit. You wanted to really look at him but you hated the way your heart thumped in your chest as you did.

You’d hadn't realised it until this week but he really was the prettiest man you’d ever seen. There was nothing about him you didn’t like and looking at him like this was making your tummy flutter.

Suddenly his eyes snapped open, boring into yours and you knew you’d been caught looking at him. Your cheeks flushing as soon as his lips curved up into a little smile before you watched him raise his head. Looking around to see if anyone was looking your way or paying attention to him but everyone must have been preoccupied as he swiftly dipped his head to place the softest and sweetest kiss to your lips.

‘Sorry’ you whispered but he didn’t reply. Just pulled you further into his body again so you could cuddle into his chest but this time you let yourself go. Falling asleep on him as he pressed kisses to your head every so often.

No matter what the pair of you did that day, Mason was by your side. When you went inside to make some lunch he was there, helping you get everything you needed as he trailed his fingers across your skin repeatedly.

When the rest of the boys asked if he wanted to join them for a quick game on the grass he told them he was too tired and fell asleep with his head in your lap as you chatted away to the girls until you all decided it was getting late and you wanted to get ready for tonight.

Mason still wasn’t very talkative even though he was being clingy and you wanted to do something to snap him out of it so you found your most outrageous outfit in hopes the tight black leather skirt and off the shoulder top would lift his mood but you were nervous to see him again after how today had gone.

Carly texted to let you know she was ready and heading to the living room so you grabbed your bag and headed out to join her. Mason clearly had the same idea as you and was leaving his room at the same and your mouth went dry as you looked him up and down.

He always dressed well but he looked so sexy right now. His white vest hugging him in all the right places and not leaving much to the imagination as his baggy trousers sat nicely on his hips whilst the white over shirt tied it all nicely together. His white outfit unconsciously making the pair of you look like yin and Yang and you felt drawn to him. Walking towards him like he had some sort of magnetic force but it was the look in his eyes that made your knees weak.

He looked hungry, eyes flickering all over your face as he met you in the middle of the hall and you wanted to melt into him. His hand coming up to cup your face and you lent into his palm as his eyes focused on your lips. Licking his own subconsciously as he leant forward, bumping your nose gently before leaning down to kiss you but the sound of Carly’s voice from upstairs made you both stop in your tracks. His lips barely a centimetre from yours as his warm breath fanned your face but he was pulling back, placing his lips on your forehead now before linking his fingers through yours and walking you upstairs.

He dropped your hand as you neared the top. Not wanting anyone to see you like that together but the thing that confused you was the way he didn’t want to even stand near you now. Sticking with the boys as they tried to order a taxi and when they eventually came you ended up in two different ones.

Dinner was fine, Mason perked up a little and it was the most you’d heard him speak all day but the only issue was he was talking to everyone else but you. Thankfully with everyone joining in you didn’t feel too awkward about it but you didn’t get to share dessert like usual and your heart felt heavier the more the evening went on.

The bar you had booked for the evening was only a short walk away and you stuck with Lauren as Mason spoke to Chilly in front of you and when he didn’t wait for you to go in with him you felt even worse linking your arm through Lauren’s as Dec guided you to your table.

You’d noticed it all week, girls eyes lingering on Mason but his eyes rarely left yours so you never worried about him going to speak to anyone else. Tonight was different though.

He was looking everywhere but you, standing and chatting with Woody and Kayla and you stuck to Carly’s side as you needed a laugh and she was always the best person to go to for that.

Eventually all the girls were together, squeezed in a booth with Lauren on your other side now but when the boys came back from the bar Mason was nowhere to be seen.

‘Where’s Mase?’ Carly asked, looking up at Ben in confusion but when he nodded back to the bar with a cheeky smile your tummy dropped for the millionth time that day. You knew what that face meant and you didn’t want to hear it at all.

‘He’s chatting some girl up at the bar. I think she’s Italian so she barely understands him’

‘Of course he is’

‘Hey give the guy a break, he’s been good all week, barely looked at anyone so no one got uncomfortable with some random girl around. Let him let his hair down a bit’

‘Is that why he’s had a face like a slapped arse all day?’ Dec laughed, sitting himself next to Lauren before reaching over to tap your knee. ‘You next then, y/n? I’ve been waiting all week to set you up with someone’

‘I’m alright, thanks’ you smiled, looking down at your lap but you didn’t miss the look in his eyes. Deep down you knew he knew something was going on but you were too upset thinking about Mason talking to another girl to think about that right now. You were just thankful at least you couldn’t see him for now.

It was difficult trying to talk to everyone when you were feeling so miserable. Trying to smile and keep up with what everyone was saying but you knew you kept going in on yourself and staring into space and ignoring everyone.

‘You okay?’ Carly whispered, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you were in your own head and the sound of her voice made you jump.

‘Y-yeah sorry, just in my old little world there’ you laughed but the look of concern on her face made you squirm.

‘Are you sure? Has something happened? I know what you’re like and you like to bottle it in but you would tell me wouldn’t you?’

‘Yeah, of course’ you breathed, downing the rest of your drink before sending her a smile. ‘Do you fancy a dance? I could do with shaking my butt around a bit’ you laughed and thankfully she agreed. Pulling the rest of the girls with you but as soon as you were out from the safety of the booth you were right in his eyeline.

You could only see the back of her but you could tell she was his type from a mile off. Petite but curvy and leggy with tanned skin and flowing shiny hair but it was his hand resting on her waist that was the real kicker. Hers on his chest as she laughed at whatever he was saying in her ear and the sight made your skin prickle uncomfortably.

It was fair to say you’d been tipsy most nights on this holiday, but all you could think about right now was getting black out drunk. You didn't even want to acknowledge Mason existed right now so on your way to the dance floor you stopped by a different bar and grabbed some shots. Downing them like they were water but they were having the desired effect. Joining the girls and for once you didn’t care what you looked like or if Mason was watching and liked what he saw. You were having fun with your girls like you should have done this whole week and when a waitress came by with a tray of shots you got one everytime.

You could barely see or hear a thing, all you could do was feel the music as it moved through you and under any normal circumstances you knew it was silly to get in this state but right now you just wanted to forget everything and everyone.

You stumbled back to your table alone. Wanting to down some water before you went back to dance again and you noticed Mason still wasn’t with the boys. Your eyes searching for him and you spotted him sitting at a different table with the girl from the bar and a few of her friends who all appeared to be fawning over him and you could tell he was in his element. Not even paying you a glance whilst you were nearby and you couldn’t help but let out a scoff as you finished your water.

‘You okay?’ Woody asked, holding into your arm as you stumbled slightly but you just sent him a bright smile in hopes he’d see you were fine.

‘I’m gooooood’ you slurred, tapping his chest lightly. ‘Gonna go back for a dance’ you told him, watching both of his faces look at you with a frown before you felt someone else’s hand on your shoulder.

‘Come on, we’ll come with you’ Ben told you, linking your arm as Woody took the other and even though you knew you shouldn’t, you risked a glance back over to Mason who was still flirting his little socks off but you could see Dec going over to join him now.

As soon as you were back on the safety of the dance floor you felt yourself let go again. Watching Ben join Carly as they whispered about something and you knew it was about you from the way she was looking at you.

You wanted to know what they were saying, getting ready to go and join them until you felt someone’s hands on your waist and you knew who it was immediately. Masons aftershave overtaking your senses as he pressed himself into your back but you were in no state to fight him off. Melting into his body like you always did and you cursed yourself for having this reaction.

‘You alright?’ He asked in your ear. Goosebumps rising on your skin immediately but his sudden concern for you was making you angry.

‘What do you care’ you mumbled loud enough for him to hopefully hear as you tried to pull away from him but he was too strong for you. Holding you flush against his body and you thought better than to try and wiggle away again.

‘Let’s go sit down okay?’ He told you, pulling you off of the dance floor and back over to your table where there were a few bottles of water sitting waiting. He opened one for you immediately and helped you take a few glugs before tilting your face up to meet his.

Even blurred you hated how pretty he was, his brows furrowed into a frown as his eyes scanned your face and you wanted to pull away from him but you couldn’t. He was your weakness and even if he’d been dangling other girls in your face tonight you still wanted to be next to him now.

‘I’ll get you something to eat, yeah? Sober you up a bit’

‘Whatever’ you huffed, pulling your face out of his grip so you could go back to sulking and he left you to it. Disappearing for five minutes before coming back with a white box.

‘I had to bribe the bouncer so I could bring these in so you better eat them. Most expensive chips in the world, these’ he told you, opening the box up and setting them in front of you. Even though you were mad at him your heart still fluttered at the way he’d made sure there was a little blob of mayo on the side.

You didn’t thank him, but sat and ate your chips quietly between sips of water. The room slowly stopping spinning as you ate and when Mason put his arm around you so he could pull you closer you let him.

‘You alright now?’ He asked in your ear, kissing your temple gently as he reached for a chip but you just let him. Not wanting to talk to him after he’d barely said a word to you all day and he knew you were pissed at him. ‘Not gonna answer me no?’ He chuckled, his tone infuriating you but you didn’t have a chance to fight back. Everyone else coming back to join you and eyeing your box of chips curiously.

‘Another round?’ Woody asked the group, everyone cheering but Mason shook his head for the pair of you and you huffed out of annoyance.

‘I’ve only just got you back to semi sober, no more yeah’

You again didn’t answer him with words. Shrugging your shoulders as he laughed in your ear before kissing the nape of your neck. You hated how affectionate he was being, but you also didn’t want to part from him so you just sat quietly as he spoke to the others. Trying to ignore Carly’s glances from across the table as you knew she’d picked up on your mood and you’d have to come up with some sort of explanation.

‘I hope I didn’t ruin everyone’s night’ you told her as you all started to leave later on in the early morning. Choosing to walk back as you weren’t too far but thankfully Ben and Mason were trailing behind so you could speak to Carly in front of them. ‘I didn’t mean to get so drunk’

‘No you’re fine’ she smiled, linking her arm through yours even tighter. ‘Is everything okay though?’

‘Yeah fine I just, maybe I’m a bit worried about the flight tomorrow’ you told her. Again feeling awful for lying but it was technically true. The thought of a few hours next to a silent Mason as you freaked out in the sky was eating away at you but as always Carly reassured you things were fine and she’d be there if you needed her.

‘You sure that’s all? I know what you’re like and I know you like to keep it all inside’ she told you. Her tone was soft and not accusatory at all and you felt your lip wobble at how understanding she always seemed to be. ‘You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to but if you need to then I’m always here’

‘I know Carly, you know I’m bad with my words sometimes but you know you're my go to when I’ve sorted myself out and built up the courage’

‘I know’ she laughed. Wrapping her arm around your shoulder so you could hug while you walked back. ‘And when you’ve built it up again, you come and find me, yeah?’

‘I promise’ you whispered. Wanting to break down and spill everything to her there but you couldn’t. It was against the rules.

The boys came and joined you closer to the house, Mason reaching for your hand but you wrapped your arms around yourself so he didn’t get the chance and he kept his hands to himself after that. Stuffing them into his pockets and keeping his head down as he followed you inside to say goodnight to everyone.

When the time came, you followed Mason down to your rooms. Not even acknowledging him as you made it to your doors and you quickly opened yours before shutting it tight, hoping he would get the message you didn’t want to talk but only a few seconds later you heard a few gentle taps.

You knew what would happen if you let him in and even though he’d been off with you all day and had pissed you off beyond belief you still found yourself walking over there and opening it for him.

‘Can I come in?’

You didn’t answer with words, just shrugged before turning away and walking back in your room. Not even bothering to look to see if he’d followed but you soon enough heard the door click shut and felt his presence behind you.

‘You still don’t wanna talk to me?’

‘You haven’t spoken to me all day pretty much’ you shrugged, facing away from him as you took your shoes off.

‘That’s not true’

‘I’m not gonna argue with you’ you told him, hoping you could brush past him to get to your suitcase but he was quick to stop you.

‘Come here’ he sighed, taking hold of your arm gently so he could turn you to face him before cupping your jaw with his free hand. His soft eyes on yours and you tried not to melt under them but as always he was making it difficult for you. ‘It's our last night here, I don’t want us to be upset with each other.

‘Apart from that half an hour you sat with me you ignored me all night, Mason’

‘You were busy-‘

‘No you were busy’ you told him, pulling out of his grip and you watched his eyes turn hard.

‘Bit like you were busy this morning huh?’

‘What are you on about?’

‘Forget it, I’m going to bed’ he huffed, turning away from you and back over to the door but the sight made you finally lose your cool.

‘You’re fucking infuriating sometimes I swear’ you exploded. ‘You’ve spent the whole night with a load of random girls in your lap and you think I’ll want to just hang out with you now?’

‘Why do you care?’

‘Cause it’s one of the rules, remember? No flirting with other people but it’s fine when you do it? You barely say a word to me today but just because you got me some chips you think everything’s fine now?’

‘Can you not see I’m trying to protect you? Protect us? All week I’ve been dodging questions about us so I thought I’d make it look believable if I talked to someone else. It didn’t fucking mean anything. As for the rules, it was one not to kiss but we’ve done that multiple times’ he fought back. His voice louder than he’d intended it to be but you were furious and passed caring if anyone heard you.

‘Oh whatever, you just say and do whatever you want to get your own way’

‘You want me to do what I want yeah?’ He growled, slamming his fist against your door before reaching for you and pressing you up against it with his hand wrapped tightly around your throat. ‘Cause all I’ve wanted all night was to fuck you senseless. Why do you think I haven’t been around you huh? Cause I can’t fucking control myself around you anymore’

You couldn’t deny his little outburst excited you and when he squeezed the sides on your neck that little bit tighter you couldn’t control the whimper that left your lips.

‘Fucking do it then. If that’s what you want’

‘Is it what you want?’ He whispered, eyes burning into yours and all you could muster was a little nod. ‘Words baby, I need you to tell me with words’

‘Yes’

You couldn’t talk anymore after that. His lips claiming yours as your knees went weak but thankfully you were still pressed up against the door by his body and when he reached down to hoist your legs up around his waist you jumped to help as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

‘You want me to fuck you here yeah? Fuck you up against this door like the little brat you are’ he muttered, trying his hardest to undo his zip and push his boxers down and once he had you felt his tip pressing up against your underwear.

‘Please Mase’ you whimpered, awkwardly reaching down so you could move them to the side and as soon as you were open to him he was pushing inside of you. Not giving you a second to adjust but you welcomed the slight sting as he drove himself into you. Using you like he never had done before as you buried your face in his neck but the gentle bite of your shoulder let you know he wasn’t happy you were hiding.

‘Look at me when I’m fucking you’ he grumbled in your ear, letting you raise your eyes to look into his dark ones and the sight made him snap his hips faster before slowing down again. Pounding into you with hard measured thrusts and you thought you might explode on the spot before he suddenly ground to a halt. Leaving you unsatisfied as you tried to move your hips against him. ‘Get down, get undressed and get on all fours for me’

You did as he asked, not wanting to argue whilst he was in this weird sort of trance so you rid yourself of your clothes as he did the same before getting on your bed and onto all fours.

Again he gave you no warning and simply grabbed your hips so he could position you where he wanted you before slamming back in and you cried out as your body slumped forward. He was quick to wrap his hand around your hair and pull you straight back up and into his body, tongue tasting the back of your neck as he licked and sucked away at your skin and you knew you were teetering on the edge.

He pulled out suddenly, making you gasp before you felt his tongue soothe the emptiness. Hands on your thighs as he massaged them roughly before flipping you onto your back suddenly so he could enter you again.

You’d never had sex like this before. Him treating you like a rag doll that he would throw about for his own amusement but you couldn’t deny it was turning you on more than you thought it would. The sloppy sounds you were making together made your insides quiver and the way he was holding your arms by your head as he stared into your soul made you buck your hips up into him. Meeting his movements before you both hit your breaking point. Hitting your highs in tandem before he collapsed onto you.

You werent quite sure what would happen next but Mason didn’t seem to be moving from his current position. Head in your neck with just about enough room to breathe as he held you whilst your fingers found themselves lost in his hair until you moved them to his back. Your fingertips stroking up and down with a featherlight touch just as you knew he loved and you felt him melt into you with every passing second.

Was he falling asleep? Did he want to stay here with you tonight? Was he still mad at you? Were you mad at him?

You couldn’t think anymore as he started to move. Fingers trailing up and down your sides with the same gentleness you were showing him and the sensation made you squirm but the kisses he was pressing to your neck made you gasp.

You could feel him inside you. Hardening again as he kissed and touched your body and even though you weren’t sure you had it in you to go again, you let him work you both up until he was resting on his forearms with his nose brushing against your own.

His eyes were different this time though, lighter and softer, like the weight of the world had been lifted from him which was only mirrored by the soft smile on his lips as he began to thrust in and out of you steadily again.

‘So fucking beautiful’ he sighed, reaching down to place the most tender and loving kiss to your lips. ‘What have you done to me baby? I can’t keep away’

‘Mase-‘

‘Shhh’ he interrupted, continuing to press delicate kisses all over your face as he rolled himself into you and you knew your cheeks were burning from the intimacy of it all. A stark contrast to how he’d treated you not so long ago. ‘Let me take care of you’

So you did, and it was nothing like what the pair of you had ever done before. Bar the last round, sex with Mason had been fun and goofy, two people who cared about each other exploring the others bodies as they made each other feel good but right now? It was intimate, slow and sexy. He wasn't just trying to get the pair of you off this time he was seeping into your skin and you felt consumed by him.

You’d never made love to anyone before, but if you had to guess what it felt like then this would probably be it. He was worshipping you like you were his one and only, forehead resting on yours so he could look straight into your eyes as he made you cum before his face lost in your neck as he calmed himself down.

When he finally got his breath back he rolled off of you almost immediately, standing to pick up his clothes so he could get dressed before turning to you awkwardly and sitting on the end of the bed. His body was turned away from you and a sense of dread filled you immediately. Clearly he wouldn’t be staying for a cuddle tonight, watching him playing with his fingers absentmindedly and even though you couldn’t see his face you knew whatever was about to come out of his mouth you wouldn’t like.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to go too far I-‘

‘Mase it’s fine’

‘You sure? He asked and you nodded even though he couldn’t see you. ‘Well I suppose it’s good to go out with a bang’ he told you trying to make a joke out of the situation like usual in jokes it could relive some of the awkwardness but it just made you feel worse. He was practically confirming that this could be your last time together and you felt your eyes sting immediately. ‘End of the week, end of the agreement right?’

‘Um yeah’ you replied, coughing halfway through to try and cover up the pain in your voice. Pulling the sheets around you even further as you felt far too exposed right now even though he didn’t seem to want to look your way anymore.

‘Thanks for… you know. We’ll just keep it as our little secret, no one else needs to know’ he mumbled, sounding like he wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. ‘I’ll head out then’’ he told you, before turning slightly to look at you but you kept your head down so he reached for your hand so he could place a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

Whilst his touches normally thrilled you, this just hurt and you let the pain consume you as he placed your hand down onto the bed before getting up and leaving.

You had nothing to say to him, hurt and upset bubbling up in your chest as your hand came over your mouth to hold back your sobs as you finally let your emotions out as soon as the door clicked shut.

You were unbelievably hurt by the whole thing, the way he’d been with you since you’d woken up, a stark contrast from the day before and him leaving you like this now was just the final nail in the coffin.

The thought of him hearing you cry made you want to die so you just turned onto your side and hid your face in the pillow so it could absorb your sobs. Your body shaking as you cried it out and it took you a while to calm down. Even then falling back into crying for a few minutes every so often.

It felt like a break up, worse than a break up because you’d only gotten a taste of him before he shut everything down and left you open and exposed. Now you just felt cheap and a little bit dirty as you still felt him everywhere but you knew he wanted nothing else to do with you now.

In the end you jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom. Standing under the shower for longer than necessary as you tried to scrub away all memories of the last week but nothing seemed to make the uneasy feeling dissipate.

Sleep didn’t come easy either as you tossed and turned all night and you knew you looked like hell when you woke up so when you saw Carly in the kitchen with Ben you tried to look at them as little as possible.

‘You alright, y/n?’ She asked as you popped yourself down in front of her and no matter how much you tried to convince her you were fine you knew she was sceptical.

‘You look like Mason just before he left’ Ben laughed, spoon in the air so he could gesture to your eyes. ‘Said they must of used some new cleaner that was super strong and made his eyes all puffy’

‘Left? Where’s he gone?’ You asked, wondering if he’d gone gone or just popped to the shop and right now you didn’t know which scenario you preferred.

‘Home, I thought you knew?’ Carly told you, her head tilting to the side in confusion. ‘He’s gone straight to Manchester and his flight was super early’

‘Oh’ you uttered, your heart plummeting. ‘yeah, sorry just slipped my mind I guess’

‘He came and woke us up this morning, said he had to get back for an emergency but he said he’d told you’ Carly uttered and she stirred her tea.

‘Oh right, I was out of it still, maybe I forgot’ you told them and thankfully they just nodded and smiled along.

‘Don’t worry, you’re sitting next to me on the flight. Managed to change it and get us three in a row together so you’re not on your own’ she smiled, thinking that was probably your first thought but right now you didnt care. He’d left without so much as a goodbye and all you wanted was to break down in her arms. You were beyond confused with the last 24 hours so you quickly excused yourself and walked out the patio doors.

You went and sat outside, far enough away from the door in hopes that you couldn’t be seen and you let your emotions get the better of you. Tears freely falling down your face as you sat there crying silently. Not even having the energy to sob or make any noise but the tears kept flowing down your face as you wallowed in complete misery.

‘What you doing out here?’ You heard suddenly, wiping your eyes quickly before looking up to find Dec right next you but his face dropped as soon as he saw how upset you were. ‘Hey? What’s going on?’

‘Nothing, I’m fine-‘

‘Well you’re clearly not’ he said, taking a seat next to you. ‘Do you want me to go get Carly?’

‘No no, I don’t want anyone to see me like this’ you laughed. Wiping your face furiously but the tears kept flowing.

‘Talk to me then, what’s made you so upset’

You didn’t know what to say, the words on the tip of your tongue but you were conflicted as to what you should do. Dec was Mason's best friend and you knew it properly wasn’t the best idea to confide in him but you knew in the back of your mind he was still suspicious of the pair of you so you threw caution to the wind and spilled your guts. Breaking one of the last rules you had left.

‘It’s Mason’ you sighed, a weight suddenly lifting as you knew you were about to tell all but Dec looked none the wiser to what you were about to say. ‘I’ve been lying to you, to everyone, we both have and I’m so so sorry’ You whispered. Watching his eyebrows pinch together in confusion and you knew you had to tell him the truth fully. ‘This whole week we’ve been… seeing each other’ you told him. Hoping that would be enough information for him and by the solemn nod of his head you knew he understood.

‘I had my suspicions’ he laughed, tapping your thigh comfortingly. ‘When did it start?’

‘Bens house the other week. He was tipsy and being super flirty, we both were, and I don’t know how but it just happened’ you told him, looking up to face him but thankfully he wasn’t looking at you disapprovingly. ‘He told me he wanted to pay for me to come away as I was the only one that couldn’t make it and that if I wanted to we could carry on sleeping together for the week and-‘

‘Wait, hang on?’ He interrupted, his face looking angry and you knew what he was thinking straight away. ‘He paid for you to come away so you’d sleep with him? I swear to god-‘

‘No it’s not like that’ you laughed. ‘The sleeping together part was just an added thing on top, he didn’t want paying back or anything like that but that’s why I’ve been cooking for him and buying him ice cream, like trying to do anything to say thank you’

‘You know you didn’t need to do any of that? Masons many things but I know he would have paid for you without making you do all that’ he frowned before it looked like a lightbulb went off in his head. ‘So what’s happened, are you upset about that girl last night?’

‘No… well yes but that’s not all of it. He was off with me for all of yesterday and I had no idea why, then there was the girls but when we got back he still wanted to sleep with me before he… just ended everything’ you sniffed. ‘He was so cold after, like just said I guess we’re done and went back to his room I felt humiliated’

‘I’m sorry, y/n’ he sighed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he gave you a minute to calm down.

‘Don’t apologise, it’s not your fault’ you told him but you could tell from his body language he had more to say.

‘Look you didn’t hear this from me, but he’s always liked you y/n. Whether that is just in a friendly capacity or more I know he’s got a soft spot for you. Whatever he’s done I don’t think he would have meant it, in his weird little mind he’s probably thinking this is the best for both of you without realising how much he’s messing up’ he reassured you. ‘Last night when you were out of it, we could all tell something was wrong. That's why I went and got him but I hadn’t even finished saying what was wrong with you before he was up and trying to find you’

‘Really?’ You sniffed, wiping your eyes. Thinking back to how he’d looked after you in the club last night and your eyes filled tears once more. ‘It’s not him, it’s me. We set rules and broke all of them but the most important was no feelings and I really thought i could do it but… he’s really fucking hard not to like’ you laughed causing Dec to laugh along with you as he squeezed you a little tighter.

‘I’ll have a word with him’

‘No don’t’ you panicked, shaking your head as you wiped your tears. ‘It’s not gonna make any difference and I’d rather he didn’t know how I felt’ you sighed. ‘I just wanna forget it and go back to normal with him, if that’s possible’

From the way Dec was looking at you, you both knew it might never be possible to be normal with Mason again but thankfully he didn’t say anymore on the matter. ‘Will you be alright?’

‘I’ll be fine’

‘We’ll be home before you know it. But don’t let him ruin what’s been a nice week’

‘I won’t’ you smiled. Thinking back to all the good times you’d had with and without Mason this week and even though it had ended in the worst possible way you were still so happy you got to be there with everyone.

y/n

liked by benchilwell, carlywlms_, woody_ and others

y/n learning extremely valuable life lessons courtesy of chilly 🌶️

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benchilwell the best student I’ve ever had

y/n the only student you’ve ever had 😩

carlywlms_ LOOK AT YOU A REAL LIFE MERMAID 🧜‍♀️

y/n I KNOW RIGHT WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT 🐳

woody_ um sorry was I invisible out there?

y/n sorry woody 🥺 you were an excellent assistant

declanrice show off

y/n can’t help it I’m a fast learner

okaylaaa I actually can’t believe how quickly you picked that up you’re a natural

y/n swimming date when we’re home?

okaylaaa you’re on

laurenfryer_ is there anything she can’t do?

y/n hold down a stable relationship

__nads I’m inspired 🤭 feeling an ocean themed cupcake collection when you’re back 🪼

y/n you’re so right let’s do it 🌊🐡🐙

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[profound-imagination]

Tell Me Their Names - Ruhn Danaan - Part 2

A/N: Everyone thank my beloved @thatlosernoonelikes for this chapter existing, and credit to Bri for the idea! This can be continued, we’ll see how it goes.

T/W’s: Mentions of Trauma but nothing specific, mentions of shitty fathers and I think that’s!

W/C: 1.8k

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Velaris was easily the most beautiful place you’d ever seen. Well, from what you could see from your bedroom window and the balconies of the House of Wind as your hosts called it. Feyre had joined you all in the journey to the house, showing each one of you to your bedrooms and playing the perfect hostess. You had eyed Ruhn anxiously, not wanting him to leave you, as she showed you a beautiful room with a huge bed and attached bathroom and continued down the hallway motioning for Ruhn to follow. Ruhn, who she kept eyeing as if trying to work out who he was, he did, after all, bear a striking resemblance to her husband, the High Lord who Feyre would glance at often as well.

They turned when Ruhn didn’t move from his spot at your doorway. Feyre raised a questioning eyebrow. “I don’t want to be rude but we stay together.” Ruhn had said, stepping towards you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “We went through a lot and I don’t want to, I can’t, let her out of my sight.” He said quietly, the High Lord, Rhysand hummed, “Trauma bonded.” You nodded, “Something like that.” Feyre smiled kindly, “Of course you can stay together, I should’ve realised you would want to!” You were quick to reassure her that she had done nothing wrong and her kindness was already far too much.

Once the door was closed and Ruhn had assured you they were gone you circled the room, the best you could on your mangled ankle. Feyre had said something about a healer and an hour but you didn’t hold much hope for your ankle being fixed. “Why do you look like him?” You asked Ruhn quietly, following him towards the bathroom where you watched him begin to draw a bath. “I-I don’t know, it’s weird.” He said, shrugging his shoulders, “But it looks like he could be your father.” You mumbled as Ruhn tensed, “He’s already done more for me than my father ever did.” He spat and turned to face you. “Can you get in or do you need my help?” He asked, his gentle tone returned. “It’s for me?” You asked quietly, tears pricking in the corner of your eyes. “Yes, I figured you’d like a bath.” You sniffed, “I can’t remember the last time I had a bath.” He smiled, “Enjoy it, I’ll be right outside.”

He stepped away and headed for the door and you smiled at his back then reprimanded yourself. Whatever you felt for the Fae Prince was dangerous and you only stood to get hurt in the long run. Just as you were struggling to undress two Wraiths appeared in the bathroom. They told you they had been sent by Lady Elain to offer their help should you need it. You smiled gratefully at them and allowed them to help. Ruhn had seen the scars on your face and arms, but he hadn’t seen the damage Lidia had inflicted on your back, nor would you want him too. There was something between the two of them and it wasn’t your place to break it further than it already was.

As you sat in the warm water and allowed the wraiths to bathe you your mind wandered. You felt it when you entered Velaris. That tingle of magic that you hadn’t felt since you were a child. Hadn’t felt it since you’d been ripped from your world and ended up in Crescent City, all magic gone and human ears. It filled you with dread. You absentmindedly wondered if you’d have to come clean. You’d told Ruhn you didn’t remember your family name, that you were an orphan. A lie. You could picture them now, your parents. You missed them so much your heart ached. You’d never see them again. You could still see your mother screaming as she was held back by your uncles. Could still see your father throwing his friends off of him and thundering towards you as you winked out of that world.

You jumped as the wraiths pulled you back to reality. “Are you alright, miss?” One of them asked as she gently wiped the tear that was trailing down your cheek. You hadn’t even noticed it. You nodded at her as you stood and wrapped a towel around yourself as the door banged open. “What’s wrong?” Ruhn’s teeth were bared and the wraiths startled. You pulled yourself together and gave him a watery smile. “I just can’t believe it’s really over.” You told him, another lie to add to the list. His face softened, “It’s over, Tiny.” He opened his arms and you willingly walked into them.

As predicted, the healer, Madja wasn’t convinced she could completely heal your ankle but she was willing to try. It would be done over weeks and it would involve having your ankle broken each time allowing it to heal in a slightly better position each time. Ruhn had been tense through the entire meeting. It was Ithan, the wolf that bought you a ridiculous amount of comfort, who had sat next to you and asked questions that needed to be asked. Ruhn had held your hand and had sat like a statue, his jaw locked in place as she had explained her plan.

After Madja had left, Bryce filled everyone in on what had happened while she’d been here, what help she had found. All from her perch on Hunt’s lap. Apparently, as well as the help she’d brought with her, they had additional backup arriving in a few days. Rhysand had smirked at you as Bryce mentioned their additional back up as if he knew something you didn’t. You raised an eyebrow at him but he simply shook his head.

When Bryce had finally finished her story, Rhysand took over. “You are all welcome and safe here.” He said, “Those of you who are willing and able can join us when we go back to Crescent City and take it back for the people. Those who aren’t can stay here. We will all be training every morning on the roof for those of us who want to join and master their gifts.” His eyes lingered on you for a second before flickering to Ruhn. Azriel spoke up then, “I can help you.” He said to Ruhn, “With the shadows.” Ruhn nodded, “They don’t do much, just enough so I can hide in them when I need to.” Azriel raised an eyebrow, “They can do much more than that.” His own shadows skittering around the room as if to prove his point.

Ruhn had spent the following days training with Azriel. Returning to your rooms late and exhausted. Feyre had chosen to train you, she was patient and kind and worked with you to figure out a way for you to fight with your mangled ankle. You were more than aware that Rhysand had been watching you but you had no idea why and the bigger problem you were facing was the magic thrumming in your veins getting stronger and stronger, as if it was trying to escape. You were sure your ears looked longer each day.

They had taken you to the field you’d first arrived in to train. Ruhn worked with Azriel as usual. Cassian and Nesta worked with Valkyries she commanded. As usual you were working with Feyre when Rhysand strolled over. “Let me take over for a while, Feyre Darling.” He purred at his wife. Some kind of silent conversation passed between them and she stepped away. Then Rhysand, without any warning, threw everything he had at you, darkness, his sword and he went for your mind as well. Your magic answered in response and he smiled. “Let it out.” He said into your mind. You gritted your teeth and shoved it back down. He doubled his efforts. Then something in the atmosphere changed and you watched over Rhys’ shoulder as Cassian left the others and charged at Ruhn, the same time Azriel turned on him. A look of betrayal and confusion crossed Ruhn’s face as he tried to defend himself against both assailants. You vaguely heard Feyre greet someone as your magic snapped. “NO!” You threw your hands out an ice wrapped wind ripped across the field, knocking Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian off of their feet and away from Ruhn.

You weren’t sure how long you held them there, using the wind you possessed to choke the air out of them. “Stop.” You knew that voice. “Y/N, you need to stop.” It couldn’t be, it was impossible. “Baby girl, you need to let them go.” Your vision cleared and you took in who held your face, who was standing in front of you. “Daddy?” You whimpered and your magic dropped. Rhys and his brothers gasped for air and Ruhn was there, just behind your father. “Daddy?” He questioned but you didn’t hear him, you just continued to stare at your father. “Well, she always was a daddy’s girl, I’m not surprised she has his magic.” You span and there she stood, your mother, the Queen of Terrasen. Your legs gave out and you collapsed into your father as you sobbed, your mother joining the two of you in a hug on the floor. “We found you.” Aelin sobbed into your hair.

“I’d say she’s her uncles girl rather than a daddy’s girl.” A familiar voice drawled. Your eyes shot to the person who had spoken and you choked out a sob, “Uncle Fen?” He grinned from ear to ear, “Hi kiddo.” Tears lined his eyes as well as you got to your feet and threw yourself at your favourite uncle, the reason you found so much comfort in Ithan. “What about us?” You took in the others who were in the clearing with you, your aunts and uncles, they had all come for you.

You turned to Ruhn, scanning his face. “Are you hurt?” You asked him, he ignored the question, “Your Fae?” He asked instead. “Yes, this is my mother and father, King & Queen of Terrasen, Rowan & Aelin Whitethorne Galathynius.” Ruhn gawked as his mind worked through the information you’d just given him, your parents coming to stand behind you, taking the prince in. “In a land long since burned to ash.” He mumbled to himself. “You’re a Fae Princess?” You shrugged at him, “You’re a Fae Prince, does it matter? I’m still me.” Panic began to crawl up your throat that Ruhn was going to pull away from you but despite Rowan staring him down, despite Fenrys, Lorcan and Aedion backing him up Ruhn pulled you into his chest, “Of course it doesn’t matter.”

When you pulled away, you turned to your family, “This is Ruhn Danaan, he’s Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae. He’s…” you trailed off, trying to find the words, “He’s kept me safe and alive.” You told them. Rowan took his hand and shook it, the words that came out of your fathers mouth next could’ve split worlds and started wars if the wrong people heard them, “Ruhn, the Shadowsingers son. Nephew to the High Lord of this place. Thank you for protecting our daughter.” Silence fell as all eyes turned to Azriel and Ruhn’s face drained of all colour.

#crescent city #house of earth and blood #house of sky and breath #ruhn x reader #ruhn danaan x reader #ruhn danaan

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 45

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

Pieces by zenstrike

Five times Keith found comfort with Lance, and one time he tried to return the favour.

look i know i talked about zenstrike last week and im here to do it again. i know what the secret relationship trope is, i know there are so many great fics but like. zenstrike reaches something in my chest and fucking twists it. i read something of theirs for the first time like two years ago and i remember being actually fucking struck dumb on my bed and clutching my phone because the way my stomach churned and my heart pounded and i well and truly FELT every fucking emotion!! when keith nervously pressed his palm to the junction of lance's neck and his breath sharpened mine did too!! when the swirling dread of fear and nerves turned in lances belly it turned in mine too!! idk what it is about zenstrike but they have touched me in a way no other author ever has in my whole life and i cant always read everything they write in one sitting, sometimes im consuming it all in a frenzy and sometimes one fic takes me days. anyway keith loving lance with every goddamn molecule but being physically unable to say it but determined to show it will always make me insane sorry for the goddamn essay

2. when you're here loving me by orphan_account [EXPLICIT]

“’Look at me, I’m Keith,” Lance muttered, “’I run directly at Galra sentries and don’t even think about the big, glowy thingies in their hands. What are those called again?’” He tightened the gauze, gently despite his trying to act angry, “’Right! Guns! Can’t possibly hurt me, right?’” Keith scowled, “I know what a gun is.” ✦ they come back from a mission, gross and in love.

this one is kinda porny lol but its pretty goddamn funny. of COURSE these two are the massive losers who play rock paper scissors after they bone 💀💀

3. The Samurai and the Sharp-Shooter by orphan_account

It's tough going on missions when you have to pretend you're dating your rival. Tougher still when you're actually not even rivals but lovers forced to hide that fact for the sake of the team's greater mission. Not canon, but still in space and everyone's there. Fluffy with zero angst.

this fic makes me CRY with laughter bc why are they fake dating to hide that they're real dating on a god damned assassination mission 😭😭 they're actually so goddamn stupid

4. Headshot by @angelwithaknife

“Guys,” Lance grunted, lying down behind a couples of rocks and aiming at some soldiers again, “I appreciate that you appreciate me but please stop waving at me after I save you, I’m sick of running around trying to find new spots, I specifically chose a long-range weapon so I could lie down all the time.”

this is so CUTE the team loves lance so bad. and as they should!! bc hes so smart and amazing and cool and wonderful and talented honestly i just love him so bad

5. What's Something You've Never Told Me? by @fondaboo

The lady drops a slice of lemon into it and slides it back towards him. “You’ve got pretty good taste kid,” she says. Her cordial smile turns wicked and teasing, as she jerks her chin to the dance floor. “And it's not just limited to drinks, I'd say.” Keith follows her dark gaze, before he can help himself, biting down on a groan when he sees where she’s looking. Lance. Jesus, he can’t even go to a bar without someone calling out his—blatant and painfully obvious—crush on Lance. “Friend of yours?” She croons. He drags a hand down his face, maybe he needs something stronger than whiskey. Ketamine maybe. “Best friend actually,” he squints through his fingers, glaring darkly, “not that it’s anyone’s business.” Or the author overuses em-dashes while trying to make Keith talk about his damn feelings! OR ace Lance has to deal with a smitten Keith and just wants to watch disney

ACE LANCE ACE LANCE ACE LANCE ACE LANCE ACE LANCE!!!!!!!!!!!!! god i love him. also fondaboo literally never misses

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

#i will never ever stop being annoying about secret relationship #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #established klance #bamf lance #bamf keith #bamf klance #soft klance #fic rec friday #fic rec #frf #longpost

[helloslytherinstuff]

And They Were Roommates

TRIGGER WARNING: CONTAINS SELF-HARM

Xavier Thorpe was many things. He was an artist a friend and to her, the most annoying person to ever exist. And newest of all, her roommate.

The day they found out should have been the worst in their lives. They hated each other after all. Right?

Months have passed since Y/N Addams crossed the threshold of Nevermore alongside her cousin Wednesday. The first weeks at the academy were spent dealing with the Hyde and their subsequent stand-off against Crackstone. Not that she did much. It was Wednesday’s work really. But she liked to think she helped at least a little bit.

Yet, despite everything, she liked attending Nevermore, and unlike her cousin, she was able to show it. She liked her new friends, and she liked not feeling like a complete outcast. Still, even despite that no one except her cousin and Enid knew about her power.

Ands so, when the next term started, she was happy to return.

The day had been perfect. The morning was gloomy, and fog was rolling underneath the wheels of the family carriage-like car.

“Oh girls, are you happy to return?” Morticia asked her daughter and niece.

“I am not feeling dreadful. Mother.”

“Wednesday is just delighted to see Enid again,” Y/N snickered, feeling a wave of irritation and embarrassment roll of her cousin. She gave her a wide grin.

“Just like you cannot wait to see Xavier Thorpe again,” Wednesday retorted, and the girl’s grin faltered.

“Look at that Tish! Young love.”

Both girls turned to Gomez giving him identical glares, as Thing was shaking with laughter. The girls exchanged a look, instead opting to spend the rest of the ride in silence.

…

She received invitation to the new headmaster’s office right after her arrival to Nevermore. Y/N groaned internally as she climbed the stairs, having left her friends behind. Knocking on the door, she quickly entered the office, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw him. The tall form of Xavier Thorpe was sitting right next to the only open chair in the room.

She saw him roll his eyes as he looked back at the new headmaster, who was a young woman with blonde hair and green eyes. she wondered what her powers were.

“You can’t be serious Ms Goodwill!” the boy hollered, and Y/N shot him a glare.

“Be serious about what?” she asked ignoring the feeling of irritation seething from him.

“Miss Addams, I am going to make this explanation quick. We have a shortage of rooms, and since neither of you has a roommate, you will be living together this year.

The girl’s eyes grew wide before she broke out into a laughing fit.

“Oh, you are being serious?”

“I told you she is a moron!”

“Hey! I happen to have an IQ of…”

Xavier threw a pen at her, hitting her square in the face.

“Oh no, you did not just…”

“Miss Addams stop with these antics. Mr Thorpe, please take Miss Addams to your room. Her things have already been moved there.”

“My ancestors must be rolling over in their graves. This is bound to go wrong,” she muttered, following Xavier to their new room.

…

“Well, this is it Addams,” he gestured to the half empty room. His side was decorated with many, many pictures, all of them his work. She was sure that if she wanted, she would find pictures of her cousin. Her very, very gay cousin.

Nothing has changed since the time she and Wednesday had snooped in there.

Instead, she turned back to Xavier, looking him up and down before staring right into his eyes.

“Come on, Thorpe, cannot we at least be on first name basis?” she asked grabbing her journal and a pen, needing to vent.

“What even is your name?” he asked, causing the girl to feel a pang in her chest, a hurt expression momentarily crossing her face.

Xavier must have noticed as his eyes widened and he started again, “No, I know it’s N/N.”

“N/N?” she asked, startled at the use of that form of her name.

“Well Y/N. I am not that big of a douche.”

“Good to know,” she said dryly. “You are very disappointed, aren’t you?”

“Why?” he asked looking puzzled.

“You got put with the wrong Addams cousin.”

“Oh, come on, I know she is gay,” he grinned.

The girl’s eyes widened. “How do you know?”

“The tension between her and Enid can be cut with a knife.”

Y/N let out a laugh. One of those rare genuine ones, that reached her eyes. it made the boy smile too.

“Well, I am still sorry for having to share a room with me. I know you are disappointed.”

“How would you know that?” he knitted his brows together.

“Well, I assume you would find out anyway. I am an empath,” she looked him straight in the eye, waiting for his reaction.

“An Addams family empath?”

“Ironic, right?”

They locked their eyes, looking at each other for a while, before bursting out laughing. She noted that she did not mind the sound of his laughter.

“Well, Y/N, you might not be such a horrid roommate as I thought.”

…

Weeks have passed since the term began, and the two seemed to finally be getting along. They fell into routine. While he drew, she journaled. While he slept, she was worried about his nightmares. While she studied, he made butterflies sit on her nose making her sneeze.

“How’s your situation with Xavier going?” Enid asked her friend while brushing Wednesday’s, who was her new girlfriend, hair.

“Well, we do not fight anymore s that might be an improvement,” she mumbled, a pink tint creeping to her cheeks.

“You like him,” Wednesday said piercing her cousin with a knowing look.

“I am afraid so,” the girl muttered shifting her gaze down, as the blonde girl let out an excited squeal. Yet, they did not get a chance to discuss anything as a loud banging on the door interrupted them.

She felt him before she saw him, his anger prominent as his voice carried in.

“Addams open up!”

“I am not emotionless. I crave physical touch and love cuddli…”

The banging stopped momentarily; the silence being interrupted only by Enid’s giggle.

“You know that’s not what I meant!”

Y/N opened the door, not realizing how close to the door he was standing. Her breath hitched in her throat.

“Hi,” she breathed out, hearing a groan from Wednesday.

“Y/N where is my sketchbook?”

The girl’s brows knitted together as she glanced back at Enid and Wednesday.

“Uhm, how am I supposed to know that?”

“You are the only one who lives in my room,” the boy jabbed his finger at her.

“Our room,” she muttered.

“I do not believe my cousin has taken it. She will gladly help you find it though.”

“Oh, and how am I supposed to do that?”

“I don’t know, maybe return it?” he barked at her.

             “She will help you, right Y/N?” said Enid, pushing her out of the door. The girl stumbled as the door closed behind her, hitting Xavier’s chest, and felt heat rush to her face as he wrapped his arm around her waist, steadying her up.

             Now up close, she could feel him seething, his anger causing him distress. And so, she laid her hand on his chest, taking in a deep breath, sending a wave of calm over him. The change was immediate. His shoulders relaxed, a small smile playing on his lips as he looked down at her.

             “What… what did you just do?”

             “Well, I tried to calm you down a bit,” she looked down avoiding his eyes.

             Xavier took a step back, his hand leaving her waist, leaving her feeling cold. She watched his gaze harden.

             “You have been manipulating me,” he accused her. “After Bianca I thought…”

             “What? No!”

             “You must have. That is why my feelings… why they have changed. It is all your fault. You made me feel this way.”

             “No Xavier I did not. What are you even talking about?” the girl tried to defend herself.

             “Forget about the sketchbook, I will find it myself. Just… never speak to me again.”

             Xavier left her standing right in front of Wednesday’s room, as tears welled in her eyes. she knew she had to return to her room, being sure Xavier had gone to his shed.

             …

             She had been pacing their room for hours, looking for his sketchbook. It did not take her long; she had realised she really did have it. Y/N must have mistaken it for her journal.

             Having done what, she was supposed to do, she looked at the clock. It had been an hour after curfew and Xavier still had not returned. He must have been sleeping in his shed. It left her feeling numb but at the verge of tears at the same time. She had hurt him. She had to punish herself.

             After another half an hour had passed before she decided he will not be coming back. And so, she ruffled through her nightstand, pulling out the sharp razor head before sitting on her bed.

             She put the razor to her forearm, making small shallow cuts as tears began clouding her vision. She was very particular about cutting, deep enough to hurt, shallow enough not to draw blood. That way it did not count. It was not self-harm if there was no blood drawn. She counted to thirteen between each and every cut, making herself feel the full extent of the pain.

             Her shoulders shook with sobs as her vision became completely blurry, her nose running. The razor was discarded on her nightstand when she heard the door open. She quickly tried to pull her sleeves down, wiping her tears away.

             “What were you doing Y/N?” came Xavier’s voice from the direction of the door.

             “No… nothing,” her voice came out shaky.

             “Hand it over,” he extended his hand out.

             “Hand what over?”

“Don’t act dumb. Give me the razor,” he said gently, as a wave of unfamiliar feeling washed over him, causing her to knit her brows as she handed the sharp object over.

“Is it the only one you have?”

She nodded her head, avoiding his gaze.

Xavier disappeared into the bathroom, flushing the razor down the toilet, grabbing a first aid kit. Silently, he took her hands in his, gently rolling her sleeves up. It took him mere minutes to wrap her arms in fresh gauze before he stalked over to her dresser, pulling out a pair of pyjamas.

“Go get changed.”

And she did, scared of what he would say, knowing that night was not over yet. When she walked out of the bathroom, she saw him sitting on his bed, changed into a pyjama of his own, his sketchbook in hand.

“I am sorry. I mistook it for my journal.”

“It’s fine. Come over here N/N,” he patted the place next to him as he lied down, pulling the covers of to let her slip in.

She lied down next to him, awkwardly looking around, until she felt his arms around her waist, as he pulled her to rest against his chest. Her heart was beating so fast she was scared he could feel it.

And he could. Her heartbeat against his chest was the only thing keeping him sane at that moment. Xavier looked down at the girl, holding her tighter.

“First thing next morning, we are getting you into therapy. Second thing, you will never leave my sight again, understood.”

“Mhm,” she said sleepily, exhausted from the events of that day, nestling into the boy’s chest, nuzzling her head into the crook of his neck.

“Good night, Love,” he whispered into her hair, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

#xavier thrope imagine #xavier x reader #xavier thrope fanfic #angst #fluff #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader

[ashlingiswriting]

do i know you? chapter eight

[ chapter eight — 6.4k words ] [ masterlist ] [ prev chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven ] "well, now you know what to get me for christmas." richie jerimovich x reader, past mikey berzatto x reader, slow burn warning: drugs, insects

the next day, you wake to your customary darkness. outside your window light snow whispers against your window and thick clouds beyond promise there’s more where that came from. you pull a mini pizza from the freezer, crack an egg on top and put it in the toaster oven, call that protein. boil some water in your smallest pot. pull out your favorite chipped blue mug.

the dream did come last night, but its dread was dulled by early waking. you’re grateful for that. this is about as good as it gets, you think: tea on the way, a thick stillness enveloping your apartment, the city outside preparing to sleep while you keep watch. 

but wait, the phone. 

you go into your room and kneel by the bed.

michael’s small box is half-empty now that you’ve put his shirt in the wash, so the nokia is easy to find. when you flip it open, he’s there, waiting for you—one unread text—and in the sleepy silence, a bubble of incredulous unreality balloons and then bursts. it’s not michael.

they all blur into each other like drops of blood in water: you’re crushed to find that he’s still gone, relieved he’s still gone, guilty you were relieved, relieved that richie’s texted—no, happy—no, that’s embarrassing, but you can’t help it. it’s happiness and it’s something else. happiness is the warmth by your side and something else is the radiator.

the message turns out to be a single emoji, the one with the pink tongue sticking out. definitely richie. with no idea what that’s supposed to mean, you try to think of something equally silly. failing that, you pull up wikipedia on the phone and generate random wikipedia articles until you finally come across a fragment that strikes you as too beautiful to pass up. you weren’t looking for beautiful, but what the hell, it’s charmed you. copy, paste, and send.

> it was announced on january 30, 2023, that she will be writing an original poem dedicated to nasa's europa clipper. the europa clipper will launch in 2024, and by 2030, will be orbiting jupiter. limón's poem will be engraved into the craft.

not expecting an immediate reply, you replace the lid on the box and slide it back under your bed, only to hear the vibration of the phone against the wooden floorboards.

reading what he’s written makes you smile. proper punctuation and all, mimicking you. can’t tell if it’s meant to be snide or if he’s just matching what he thinks is your mood. you’ll take it either way.

> must be a bad motherfucker, that limon.

> must be.

> is she your favorite poet or something?

you feel a dissonant twinge of pride and shame. you once had a favorite poet, but that was a long time ago.

> i haven’t decided yet. are you getting better?

> i haven’t decided yet. i had three grape popsicles in bed for my breakfast, it’s kind of hard to argue with that.

> malingerer.

> i’m actually polish.

and so on. 

when he finally says goodbye so he can go back to sleep, you’re still laughing a little to yourself, and you’ve been kneeling there beside the bed for so long that your knees ache.

.

.

.

in the days that follow, richie texts you at exactly the time he’d usually visit. you stand outside like he’s still there, have a couple cigarettes, and enjoy the nonsense even as your fingertips go numb in the cold. once, he sends a picture of a meme so italian that you don’t get it. you obviously weren’t meant to get it, either, so you respond by sending him the middle finger emoji, which he, nonsensically, hearts.

if he needs help, he’ll ask for it, you think. you hope. he seems to be on the mend. anyways, you no longer feel that fear except in dreams, and you stop wondering when he’s gonna text and start expecting it, and then, less than a week later, he shows up. you know this because he texts, where are you?

you open the window and stick your head out into an eddy of snow. sure, you’re glad to see him, but: it’s too fucking cold for this!

he waves.

man was feverish for literally days and here he is in mid december with a hoodie under his leather coat but no scarf, absolute idiot, and so you close the window, go down to meet him, and break the rule. standing there, holding the door open, you say, c’mon. 

he’s surprisingly perceptive. he walks over, but he doesn’t cross the threshold, just pauses in front of you.

i don’t think we can smoke in there, he says.

we can’t, you say, moving back one more step, making even more room for him. or at least i can’t. i don't want to get evicted. my landlady will do it too.

yeah? he says, not moving. you're scared of her?

you shrug. you've moved back as far as you can, you're letting all the cold air in, and there's nothing you can do except say please.

you say, she's like four foot tall and a hundred years old, man. women that tiny that survive that long? you should be scared of them.

as if that was the final straw—though how could it be?—richie walks inside. without skipping a beat and for no reason you can figure out, richie walks inside.

learn my ways, sweetheart, he says, touching his chest and giving you his very best look of ridiculous condescension. old women love me.

as you close the door behind him, you fend off a stray, ridiculous burst of giddiness. it's just the lobby, pale linoleum floors and a single artificial plant by the elevators, but it feels radically different from the concrete outside. no cigarettes, no excuses. he’s only there for one reason.

old women do not love you, you say.

they do!

tina loves you. the rest of them, i don't know.

he snorts. you really don't want to be standing face to face with him for however long you’ve got him, so you lean on the wall instead, and he settles by your side the same way he always does.

when he looks over at you, there’s a hint of sly mischief in his eyes that makes you say, what?

wait for it, he says, and when you open your mouth, he holds up a finger.

you roll your eyes, but you hold your tongue with no idea what this is about, undisguised curiosity, and a readiness to be delighted.

you hear that? he finally says.

wind, maybe, or the distant rattle of a train? nothing special. you shake your head no.

that, richie says, is the sound of the sky not falling. 

knowing he noticed, that’s the worst thing about being told that everything is gonna be okay. it’s also the best thing. you shove him with a bony, solid elbow. i should’ve let you freeze.

he catches himself before he can topple, his smile gone goofy and so pleased. fuckin drama queen.

full han solo style, block of ice.

it was carbonite, not ice. how do you not know star wars?

course i know star wars, you lie. how do you live in chicago and not own a hat?

i have hats. i just also have a car.

uh-huh. if he wants to trade accusations, you’ve got a doozy you’ve saved up till you could turn it on him in person.  i noticed the other day that your place isn’t exactly in a location that makes my place ‘on the way home’ from the beef. 

he’s caught, not sorry. grins. you noticed that, did you.

yeah, i might not be from around here, but i still know north from south, all that shit. 

well okay, sherlock. you wanna charge me with a crime? the challenge in his eyes says it all; he knows you’re not unhappy to find he lied. 

you still need to get a hat, you say.

well, now you know what to get me for christmas.

you’re getting jack shit.

you already know what you’re getting him for christmas. 

.

.

.

kraft’s mac and cheese is a christmas tradition in a two-person slice of your family, and you’re one half of that slice, so mac and cheese is the first thing you think of when richie tells you he’ll be there for christmas eve. 

after that, it’s on to donna’s on christmas day. then i’m gonna kidnap carmy for some ice fishing, he says.

you ever been ice fishing before? you say. 

he splutters. do i not strike you as a, uh, an experienced-ass f—

no.

—fisherman and woodsman, and like—

nope.

—man of the… he gives up. whatever?

do you have a float suit? 

richie exhales smoke and fixes you with a look, annoyed but curious.

i’m carmen fucking sandiego, you say, by way of explanation. of course you’ve been ice fishing, you’ve been all over the world.  

sure you are, he says. he waves a dismissive hand. my buddy’s got all the stuff, we’ll be fine. it’s whatever, i just gotta get carmy out of the city so the only things he ends up killing are fish.

his first christmas since. you don’t have to finish the sentence.

yup, richie says.

it’s richie’s first christmas since, too, but there’s no call to say that. 

lapsing into a companionable silence and shrinking a little closer to the building as the wind picks up, you decide that you’re definitely gonna make him kraft mac and cheese for christmas eve. he wouldn’t take it as a letdown, he'd laugh at the single spinach leaf on top. he’d get it.

.

.

.

on christmas eve, ten minutes before you’re expecting richie to show up, you get a text message.

> need u 

it’s the wrong phone, though. it’s your work phone, and after everything those fuckers have done, they can’t possibly be calling you in on christmas eve. not now. your butter’s already cut, your colander’s in the sink, and you’re stirring the pot of boiling macaroni with a couple takeout chopsticks. they can’t—

the phone starts ringing. you pick up. 

fuck off, you say.

no wait! 

the voice is familiar; it’s kevin, a man so stupid that he once introduced himself to you out of anxious friendliness even though you’ve always made very clear that you don’t want to know anybody’s names. kevin must have you on speakerphone, because in the background, you can hear the telltale sounds of somebody else cursing in a continuous wretched stream. that piques your curiosity.

thirty seconds, you say. keep it clean. meaning, don’t give me names. 

kevin says, we were doing a thing and some stuff happened. 

that’s no use. he kept it a little too clean. you sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose between two fingers. you were doing a thing on christmas eve?

we thought…look, can you just come? aren’t you on call? isn’t this your job?

you tell me, you say. it’s been radio silence on my phone for three weeks and i haven’t gotten paid for almost a month now. 

oh.

yeah, you say, knowing damn well that it’s not kevin’s fault, but more than happy to take this out on somebody. they fucking ghosted me.

sorry to hear that, man, he says awkwardly. 

a thought occurs to you. likelihood of the carusos being involved in some shitbrained christmas eve scheme pulled by kevin? nil.

was this even a sanctioned thing? you say. like, did—

you know what, it’s fine, kevin says hurriedly. it’s basically a flesh wound.

the guy in the background howls, i got shot in the fucking foot!

shut up, howie, kevin hisses. you hang up.

there’s no reason for you to get involved. no orders, no blackmail, and probably no money; plus, your timer is counting down the last minute of macaroni boiling and richie will be on his way soon. 

you pocket your phone, walk back to the stove, and resume stirring. 

no reason for you to get involved. your timer rings out, so you dump out the pasta, put it back in the pot with the butter, add some water and the cheesy powder, stir with an eye for sauce thickness, wait for it to settle you. it doesn’t.

the thing is, there are so many small tricky bones in the foot, and you haven’t had a real surgery challenge in ages. ever since your bosses ghosted you, you’ve just been staying in your apartment, in limbo, seeing nobody except richie and occasionally a cashier. sleeping and waking neither on your old strict schedule nor on a normal daylight one. doing nothing, worth basically nothing. 

so yeah, you text kevin.

> send me the address

then, as quick as you can so you don’t have time to overthink it, you text richie. 

> work emergency, i have to cancel. sorry. 

the response is immediate.

> text me when you get home.

you realize that you’re still stirring, and you turn off the stove. although you give him a couple minutes, richie doesn’t add anything. no joke to put spikes on the soft gesture, no expression of disappointment to make you feel guilty for canceling this late. nothing. text me when you get home, that’s all.

if you were that generous, you’d text back don’t stay up, let him get some extra sleep in preparation for tomorrow’s christmas hell. but you don’t. you want to think of him waiting for his phone to chime, staying awake for you, thinking of you, even worrying. so you react with a thumbs up to his message.

the next time your phone goes ping, it’s kevin sending you the address, and you head for the door. 

.

.

.

you’re sitting on a coffee table beside the old sofa that holds your resting patient. lying on the coffee table beside you are half a dozen grape skittles, the remainder of your christmas eve meal. there’s literally baggies of cocaine sitting on the kitchen table, the tv is playing charlie and the chocolate factory, and everyone involved in this—including yourself—is so stupid that you’re all definitely going to jail. but you’re having one of your good nights.

only drugs compare to the state of pure focus that surgery grants you, and even though it’s always in shit circumstances done for shit people, you can’t help but feel like a serious machine doing all this ad hoc emergency shit. this has to be how athletes feel, after a game. it’s physical: your vision feels clearer, your hands are steady, your body’s slouched comfortable and sated. it was decent work you did, given the lack of fucking everything. you’re pretty sure howie won’t even have that bad of a limp. 

kevin finishes counting your pay and hands it over. you begin to count it again, too—twenty, forty, sixty—and then look up at him. 

what? he says.

you haul yourself up and walk over to the kitchen table, ignoring the cocaine in favor of the scale, on which you place a twenty. it comes up as 0.94 grams when it should be a single 1.0. so you throw your earnings in the sink, get out your lighter, and set it on fire.

the fire alarm! kevin rushes over to turn the tap on and put it out.

you can hear howie calling from the couch, what’s burning? 

kev just tried to cheat me. 

i did not, kevin says miserably, it was a misunderstanding. 

he pulls his own wallet out of his back pocket and starts to count the money, but you take it from his hands, sit at the kitchen table, and begin counting money yourself, weighing each bill as you go. once you’ve taken a hundred and fifty, you stand up and call over to howie, night.

yo, howie says. is my, like. what are the chances they gotta amputate?

that gets you a little, despite everything. howie spent the past few hours thinking he was gonna lose an entire foot, and he was stubbornly proud enough that he almost made it without admitting the fear to anyone. in a way, you gotta give it to him. admiration’s too grand a word, but it’s something like that. 

chances are super low, you say. as long as you follow instructions, keep an eye out for infection, and don’t get hooked on pills, you’re gonna be fine. 

for a second, there’s silence. then: thanks, babygirl.

for that, you take another forty dollars from kevin’s wallet and point them at him. asshole tax, you say.

as soon as you’re out of the house, you can hear kevin locking the door behind you. then he says, goodnight!

i shoulda robbed you, you say. then you start down the sidewalk. it’s bitter cold and you’re not a hundred percent sure you’re headed in the right direction, but just then you feel invincible. 

fuckin jagoffs, say to yourself.

.

.

.

on the train home, the peace and quiet is interrupted by a herd of college girls, twentysomethings all decked out in tinsel necklaces, clearly on their way to a different party, and hitting all the wrong notes in deck the halls.

most days, you’d hate this, but in your current state of satisfaction with yourself and the world in general, their effortless enjoyment doesn’t seem to completely shut you out. they’re so young, and one of them is sitting in another’s lap while a third drapes herself over her shoulder. they smell like spiced rum, they make it hard to be a bitter old crone.

one of the carolers makes direct eye contact with you, and instead of having the decency to keep herself to herself, she extends her hand to you and sings even louder, fa-la-la-la-ing like she’s god’s gift. for a second, you let yourself mouth along, fa-la-la-ing, but then she says, come on, i know you can do better than that! and nope, nope. fuck it.

you try to look away, she yells another, come on! and you give her the death glare. surprisingly, she keeps beckoning to you—they’re stubborn, kids these days—but eventually you win the way you knew you would.

she looks away and whispers in the ear of the lap-sitter. that girl, the tiniest of them all, gives you a look that could sear meat. you could break her in half with one hand tied behind her back, she really has the build of a hummingbird, but that doesn’t seem to be stopping her.

you roll your eyes, lean back with exaggerated deliberation, and get out your phone. 

> i’m home.

you want somebody of your own, you want richie’s reply. but none comes. 

he’s not waiting for you outside your apartment building, either, so there goes that mad hope.

.

.

.

when you get inside your apartment, you kneel to untie your boots and spot a flicker of movement on the floor. it’s a black ant scurrying towards your countertop. with a rising sense of horror, you straighten up and see a swarm of ants, dozens and dozens, maybe a hundred busily moving little black dots, crawling to and from the pot of macaroni and cheese on your stove. your stomach turns, and if you’d had a real dinner, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from throwing it up. as it is, you just gag. it feels like a violation, an invasion, and you’re more outraged about these fucking ants in your apartment—your fucking apartment—than you ever were about getting not paid or cheated or maybe even blackmailed. 

you go into the kitchenette and get the ant spray out from under the sink, then you stand back and spray everything in sight. the whole fucking counter, even though, yes, you cook your food on that, and the stove, and the floor for good measure. fuck them all. 

you should’ve known better than to leave food uncovered in this apartment. you’ve lived here for three years and this always fucking happens. you’d think the novelty would’ve worn off, but nope. it’s still as disgusting as it was the first time you woke up to see last night’s plate covered in black.

today, the spray isn’t working fast enough for you, so you get out a trash bag, put the pot in it, and head out for the dumpster. 

out there in the cold, waiting for the ant spray to do its work inside the trash bag, you remember that you left your lighter in kevin’s house. you tip your head back and look up at the sky. it’s so thickly smothered in clouds, there’s barely a glow of moon. 

yeah, you say. 

after a while, you untie the bag, shake the dead ants off your pot, and throw the bag away. you’d stomp on the ants for spite, but that would necessitate looking at them, and you’ve had more than enough of that. you just head back for home.

you almost make it to the front door, and then you smell it, the smoke.

well? richie says from around the corner. he must have heard your footsteps. you coming or what? 

you walk the last few steps and there, just around the corner, there he is. he has the navy hood pulled up over his head, both his hands shoved deep in his pockets, a cigarette between both lips. he looks at your pot with interest. 

after a second, you say, you’re late.

something tickles the inside of your wrist and you flinch. one last ant has crawled up the handle of the pot and onto your arm; you drop the pot in the snow and shake the ant off you. it lands by richie, and he stomps it dead matter-of-factly. 

it takes everything you’ve got not to start swearing like howie with a shot foot.

merry christmas? richie says after a second. 

merry fuckin christmas. you reach out and take the cigarette from his lips. long drag. you needed that. 

settling beside him so both of you can look out into the night, you hand the cigarette back. and that’s how it is for a while, sharing. the wind thins out, the streetlight across the way reflects in the glass of another apartment building's door.

when your body’s finally calmed down, you look over at him. i got you something.

aw, you didn’t have to, he say, a little curious and not particularly surprised. he probably thinks it’s a joke. 

you hold your right hand palm up, and he takes his right hand out of its warm jacket pocket to mirror the gesture. then you reach into your hoodie and unclasp his gift from your neck. 

the chain is gold. thick, but not so thick that it comes across comical. incongruous with you and with him, the weight of it and the shine, how new it is. when you lay it in his hand, it looks like a golden snake, intricate and flawless. 

after a second, he gives you his cigarette like he can’t both smoke and think about it. then he speaks. 

this is fake, yeah, he says.

hundred percent fake. 

actually, it’s regifted. it was originally one of your boss’s christmas bonus gifts, and given that you pawned all the other christmas bonus gifts to pay rent, you’re pretty sure that the chain is solid gold. it’s for the best that he doesn’t know it, though.

as you watch, he puts it on, fumbling a little with the clasp. looks at it for a second, tucks it back inside his coat. there goes the last 

yeah? you say, after a second. 

yeah. think i like this sugar baby shit. keep ‘em coming, he says. 

you laugh, real, so relieved that he didn’t take it weird, so relieved that you got lucky tonight and he got it the way he sometimes can, acceptance without explanation.

he lets you laugh, and then he says, mine’s better, though.

diamonds?

it’s back at my place, he says. i can drive?

you want that so bad, and you didn't even think to want it just seconds before.

yeah, you say, dropping the cigarette and stomping it out right beside the dead ant, unbothered. 

you want to take the pot up? 

you shrug, crouch down, and cover it with some snow; you’re not gonna leave him down here waiting for you, and you’re not gonna take him up to the horrorshow of dead ants either.

it’s still pretty obvious, richie says.

it’s christmas eve, who’s gonna bother digging in dirty snow to steal a pot?

this is chicago.

this is idle argument as companionship and you know that, but you're impatient. are you taking me home or what? yes, you can hear the double entendre. no, you don't fucking care.

there’s a slight pause before richie says, car’s this way.

.

.

.

in the car, there’s crumbs but not much mess; a coupon for personal pizzas in the cupholder, and that’s it. he must have cleaned.

when he starts the engine, you say, wait, and make an elaborate show of putting on your seatbelt. then you say, okay, now i’m ready.

fuck you, he says, and he’s still smiling when he starts to drive. 

the radio is playing carols dimly in the background, and you don’t hate it. 

you doing anything for christmas day? richie says. 

i’m working christmas, you lie.

seriously? tell your boss he’s fucking barbaric.

would if you could; you’ve already tried to say as much in your many texts, but it is what it is.

yeah, you say. bunch of fuckin jackoffs, right?

jagoffs, he says, over-enunciating, frustration immediate. he really is too easy and he knows it. you’re—

jackoffs, that’s what i said, that’s what you told me—

if you can’t do it right, don’t do it at all. he has to drive with his right hand so he can make chopping motions for emphasis with his left hand, because of course he does.

you say, jackoffs.

you’re killing me. 

and yet you go on surviving. you relent. got everything you need for ice fishing?

richie scoffs in disgust. yeah, but now carmy is trying to bail on me. 

if he’s not gonna say, typical, then neither are you.

he wants to work on the twenty-sixth, he says.

oof.

yeah. like a full planning session, go over the rest of the rollout schedule with the entire staff and like… he rubs his forehead. i don’t know. like we haven’t even gone to christmas yet and he’s already, fucking. i don’t know!

i mean.

he glances over at you briefly.

carmy wants to make the staff come in on the twenty-sixth just to go over the renovation schedule again?

he’s out of his fucking mind.

you already know what you want to say, but you have to double-check it in your own head to make sure you’re not overstepping. you don’t actually know these people.

but also, fuck it. 

you know, you say, you could tell him if he acts like this, syd’s gonna quit again.

he whistles. julie with the big guns.

how i’m built, you say.

yeah, i noticed, he says affectionately. it’s okay. i’ll figure it out.

i know you will. it’s kindness, and you mean it, and you don’t take it back. 

thanks, he says. 

you lean your forehead against the cold glass of the car door and watch chicago going by, all gold and black and white.

.

.

.

after a few minutes, he parks the car in an underground garage. 

you ready for this? this is gonna rock your world, he says. 

diamonds and rubies? you say, unbuckling your seat belt.

you’re gonna be fuckin crying.

diamonds and rubies and pearls?

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.

.

at the door to his apartment, he says, close your eyes, hold out your hands, and wait here, so you do. when the door opens, you can smell whatever it was he made for his christmas eve dinner with eva. it smells like everything christmas eve should be, rich and homey. you could wait here for, say, half an hour. you could stretch this moment out. you wouldn’t mind.

okay, richie says. here.

when the gift touches your palm, you instinctively pull back. richie swears and catches it. 

it’s hot! you say as you open your eyes.

it’s soup, he says. you want it cold?

you look down. yeah, that’s definitely french onion soup, with a big white and brown patch of melted cheese and toast on top. it’s an echo of what you made him when he was sick. it’s him showing off his work in comparison to your two-ingredient version. it’s unfortunately perfect. there’s no way he knew that you haven’t had anything for dinner except skittles.

it smells like home.

here. you hand the bowl back to richie, but only so you can take off your coat and your shoes. 

there’s only one hook on the back of his door, so you hang your coat overtop his. as you move through his apartment, you take stock: the walls are still orange, but things are a little tidier and there are new drawings magnet-pinned to the fridge. eva’s going through a cat era, clearly. the kitchen lamp is as warm as before, and the cactus by the window has a small red ribbon on it, probably a nod to christmas. 

you sit down at the kitchen table on one of the foldable stools, and richie sets your spoon and bowl in front of you. there’s a half-empty bottle of coors on the countertop behind you, and you take a sip of that. he sits down on the chair to your left, so he’s in your peripheral. he’s next to you.

you can feel it coming.

um, you say.

he glances over, and you can feel that too. what’s up.

don’t be a dick, okay. you say it very low and very flat, not even angry, because angry wouldn’t cut it.

the pause is too long, but at least he finally says, okay.

you pick up your spoon and take the first sip. 

the bit of melted cheese hits first, warm and gooey and salty then the sweet savory richness of the broth, and yeah, okay. it’s happening. your eyes are wet.

you can feel him not saying anything about it, but before it can build up to torture, his phone rings. 

sorry, he says, getting up. it’s tiff.

he must know from the ringtone alone, but you’re not even mad at it, you’re relieved. saved by the bell, another bit of good luck. maybe christmas is real.

uh-huh, you can hear him saying. yeah. that’s— he laughs, and you know from that laugh alone it’s something about eva. yeah, put her on. a beat, then. hey, honey. no. no, she’s right. listen, santa won’t come if you spy on him. the guy likes his privacy, okay? he’s not in it for the applause, he’s not in it for the publicity. pause. well, that’s what the cookies are for. i am being serious, that’s what they’re for. okay. who—okay. he snorts. okay, you got me. don’t tell your mother, though, okay? she really enjoys it. pause. it’s up to you. okay, i gotta go. i love you. hey. i love you. 

that’s more than enough time for you to wipe your eyes on your sleeve, get all fucked up again listening to him, and wipe your eyes a second time. by the time richie sits back down, you’re basically normal.

that sounded like some saga, you say.

this jewish kid at school told all the christians that santa wasn’t real, he explains. and now she’s going around busting all the lying adults one by one. 

you laugh. 

they’re starting young, he says. when i was in school, they always used to make us wait until at least sixth grade before we could go around busting myths.

you’re jewish?

he shrugs. kinda sorta.

you see the opportunity to make another joke about him being zero percent italian, and you ignore it. did eva like the doll? you say instead. 

yeah. i mean, it was a huge hassle, it’s so expensive i had to go halves with tiff, and i nearly had a heart attack when eva said something about kirsten cause i thought i’d got the wrong one— he starts eating again, eating soup and talking, and you don't hate it. which by the way, swedes? have the most boring american history of them all, i don’t know why they’d make a doll about that, but anyways, yeah. she loved it. he reaches across you and takes his beer back so he can drink the last dregs of it. ever since the divorce, we don’t even call it christmas eve, we just call it christmas one and christmas two. as is tradition.

he says the last three words kind of weird. 

as is tradition? you repeat.

tiff and i, we don’t have a bunch of traditions from our parents, so it’s like. we make up a lot of stuff and then we say ‘as is tradition.’ cause it’s not.

i mean, you got two generations involved, so that counts.

eh, he says, drawing it out dubiously. 

i got two-generations traditions, you say.

you didn’t intend to talk about your family, you weren’t thinking about that at all, you were just thinking about richie. but now you gotta sit in the silence as he decides whether or not follow up about your parents.

finally, richie says, you got a kid? he’s doing his best to be cool about it, but his voice goes up a little crazy on the last word.

no, i mean—you’re laughing. i meant me and my dad.

oh, he says, maybe a bit relieved, definitely a bit something, you can’t quite place it. oh.

i used to make us mac and cheese for christmas. with a leaf on top, like lettuce or spinach or something. cause, you know, that makes it salad.

that’s cool, he says flatly. after a second, he adds, less flat, i don’t have any traditions with my dad. i mean, he’s dead, but like before then, we never. so i think that’s cool. 

you hate his dad. it’s a split-second decision, but you feel pretty confident about it.

two generations is all you need, you say. and you got eva. so it’s a tradition. 

heard, he says.

when you glance over, you see the chain catching the light, gold over his dark shirt. he looks at you. you both keep eating.

.

.

.

eventually, you finish off two bowls of soup and a hot chocolate too, courtesy of eva’s swiss miss unicorn package. you feel a bit subdued by the ordeal of being human, but relaxed. 

best christmas ever, you say.

really? richie says, like he believes it and feels bad for you.

god no, do you think i came out a dickens?

what the fuck is a dickens?

you’re illiterate, it’s okay. you look at him. you know that your eyes are a little red, but thankfully you can also see, reflected in his eyes, that he knows you're all right.

thank you, richie, you say. it’s all wrong, you shouldn’t be saying his name and you shouldn’t be saying thank you either, it’s thanks or nothing, but something about the formality feels a little heavier and therefore suited to the day. it’s getting late.

i’ll drive you? he says, and there’s a little extra question in it that you can’t bring yourself to consider. 

you shake your head and get up from the table heavily, feeling a thousand years old. i’m good. 

he gets up, follows you, stands there with his hands in shoved his pockets as you crouch to put on your shoes.

i wasn’t suggesting a sleepover, he says. 

no, of course not, you say, and you congratulate yourself on not making it sound bitter.

unless, richie says.

you look up at him. 

i have so many condoms, he says, deadpan. just. so fucking many. some of them are citrus flavored.

there he goes, saved it.

it’s not just tonight, is it? it’s not just tonight, it’s not just luck, it’s not just christmas; somehow, richie’s become…he’s figured it out, how to be with you. when to show up and when to let you go. not always, but more than enough, and he just. he wakes up and he struggles and he breaks shit and he irritates you and he calls eva and he watches youtube and he goes to bed and he wakes up and he struggles and he learns and you love him.

what a fucking time to find out. you look down and begin tying your shoes again.

you got pineapple flavor? you say.

in what world is pineapple citrus? richie says.

well, tough luck. you back up and turn around to put on your coat. for me, it’s pineapple condoms or nothing.

you’re a real high-maintenance fuck.

you laugh. michael used to like that about you, just how easy you were, or how easy you made yourself. buddy, you got no idea. 

it’s been such a long day for both of you, apart and together. of course you’re getting messy, of course it’s time to go. you zip up your coat, run your hand through your hair. 

let me drive you, he says again.

you wave him off. no, i need to walk. clear my head.

it’s december in chicago, fuckin pitch black— 

i’ll be fine.

it’s christmas eve, are you really gonna punish me for a fucking joke? he says, and you look up, startled; you didn’t know he was upset. in retrospect, you were just focusing on avoiding his eyes, so what did you expect?

i’m not punishing you for anything, you were great. richie. you look at him straight on and steady, so he understands. a little gentle, as gentle as you feel you can get away with. you truly have to go, and there’s no resentment in it. i just need to clear my head. i’ll be fine, i’m always fine. 

you never… richie trails off, eyes you, decides against finishing the sentence. you’re stubborn.

always. you give him a small smile. thanks for the soup.

goodnight.

that should be the end, but it feels unfinished. his blue eyes are alive to the possibilities when you reach out, but you just touch the chain with a fingertip where it rests over his collarbone. his right hand moves a little and you draw back, your other hand on the doorknob at once, already leaving.

.

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two days later, the cops issue a warrant for your arrest. 

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[ next chapter ] [ masterlist ]

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@garbinge, @narcolini, @drabbles-mc, @beingalive1, @eternallyvenus, @cerial-junkie, @jackierose902109, @shinebright2000, @scorpiolystoned — if anyone else wants to be tagged, let me know.

#richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #the bear fanfic #mine #readerfic #do i know you? #the bear imagine #diky #guess who's still at it? ME!!! guess who's not giving up? ME!!!!!!

[arabellavernierwrites]

i chose you. will graham.

summary : will graham had felt himself slipping away for months. after a particularly grisly nightmare, he finds himself being comforted by his partner who can’t help but reassure him. (can be read as gn!reader)

word count : 944

warnings : nightmares , anxiety , panic attacks , unstable mind , insecurities , fear of hurting others

a/n : hello everyone ! it’s been a while. truthfully , i had been having a bit of a rough time. i apologize for the leave , but i want you all to know that i have received your requests , they are in my ask box and i will be getting around to them ! thank you so much for all of the love and support you all continue to show me. i truly am so appreciative of it and find it motivates me to write even more. that being said , this is my first hannibal fic ! i would love to write more for it , so please let me know if you all would be interested in that. and please send in requests !!! i want to write for you ! i hope you like the story. thank you all again for the support. have an amazing wonderful incredible day ! love you all !

it was a cold, rainy wednesday night.

it wasn’t rare for the weather in virginia to be like this. sprinkles, drizzles, downpour. it was all the same to you.

you glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table. its electronic glow read 8:53 p.m. it was still early in the night. you and your partner, will, hit the hay early this evening. will had sipped on a small glass of whiskey before declaring himself drowsy enough to go get in bed.

you had followed him up the stairs, a small army of dogs on your heels as you trudged up the wooden steps.

“i think i’m gonna read,” you announced, tossing the sheets aside.

“oh yeah?” will smiled gently, “your new one?”

“yeah, i’ve got just over 60 pages left and i want to get it done before friday,” you adjusted your pillows.

“i’m expecting a review when you finish,” will stepped out of slippers, lying down next to you.

“like i’d ever pass up the opportunity,” you grinned, reaching for your book, “lamp or reading light?”

a timid look settled on will’s face, “lamp. please”.

a few months ago will had started having nightmares. they were grueling, each night a horror film of his most traumatic moments, deepest fears, and haunted past played on a nauseating reel in his mind. since then, will had liked to keep the bedroom lamp on. he found it comforting to awake from his grisly slumber to a well-lit, familiar place.

“lamp it is,”

will sunk into the mattress beneath him, drifting off to his nightmarish dream world, a place his sleeping figure visited far too often. once you heard the soft, steadying of his breath, you propped yourself up under the covers, resting against the wooden headboard as you began finishing your book.

37 pages or so later, here you were, glancing at the clock that read 8:53.

a small shake of the bed startled you. looking down at the man next to you, you swayed again as his body jolted.

his shirt had seemed to change color in the past half hour as his sweat had drenched the cottony fabric. his breathing had become uneven, sharp and jagged, clawing at the oxygen around him, begging for sweet relief from this panicked suffocation that encased his lungs.

spasming, sweat, hyperventilation. you knew what was coming.

you placed your book down beside you, preparing yourself for the storm of will that was brewing beside you.

his wet shirt clung to him as his shaking turned to convulsions. his arms and legs thrashed around, trying to fight off the dreadful scene that played in his mind.

your heart raced, fearful for him as you reached forward, resting a protective hand on his shoulder.

“will,” you shook him carefully.

the hideous sounds that ripped from his chest frightened you.

“will,” you shook harder, terrified that he was actually going to suffocate himself, “will!”

his body lurched forward, a gasp escaping him so loud it seemed to silence the rest of the world.

he looked like he was being pinned down, the way his body uncomfortably pressed into the bed, an attempt to make himself feel grounded.

escaping from his nightmarish state didn’t appear to help to ease his mind at all. his breathing was still frantic and his eyes shot around wildly.

“sweetheart,” you gently wiped a few strands of wet hair from his forehead, cautious as to not spook him.

he placed a desperate hand on the back of yours, a pool of comfort flooding his chest. your tender touch breaking down the icy walls that trapped his harrowing thoughts.

“will,” he was still trembling, his mental battle still not quite over, “look at me”.

you started pulling away, afraid your physical presence might be overwhelming while he was still so raw. will moved to grip your wrist, pressing your palm back to his cheek.

he breathed deeply, bit by bit, the life returning to his eyes.

“how am i ever supposed to save anyone when i can’t even save myself?” he whispered sullenly.

“i wouldn’t say it’s all your own doing,” you stroked the side of his damp face, “there’s a lot of people that put a lot of pressure on you. people that would rather see you drown trying to help them than allow you to swim to shore”.

“what if i can’t save you?” he met your eyes, his gaze timorous.

“that’s not something you have to worry about,” you reassured him.

“well it is,” he pressed.

“you don’t have to save me, will. i’m okay. i’m here, in this moment, in bed with you,” you offered.

you were met with silence.

he gnawed on his bottom lip as thoughts bounced around his brain.

“what if i can’t save you from myself?” he stressed, his real worry coming to light.

“i don’t need to be saved from you. you’re not holding me captive, i choose to be here. i choose to spend my nights with you, reading books and drinking whiskey and caring for dogs because i love you, will,” you brushed the hair from his forehead, “there’s nothing else i would rather do in this world than be here with you”.

for a moment, the air was still. a blanket of calm had quieted everything except for the pattering of the raindrops that hailed from above.

he rolled over, his face falling into your chest as his shoulders quivered.

“i’m afraid,” he choked out.

“i know you are,” you pulled him flush against your body, massaging your fingers through his hair, “but i’m here for you. i’m always here for you”.

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #will graham #will graham hannibal #will graham angst #will graham hurt #will graham hurt comfort #will graham fanfic #will graham fanfiction #will graham reader #will graham x reader #will graham/reader #will graham blurb #will graham drabble #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal fanfic #hannibal blurb #hannibal drabble #will graham comfort

[slayfics]

Behind the Mask

Inosuke x Reader

After meeting the injured demon slayer you struggle to help him recover and learn more about his past.

Chapter 2

The next few days were a struggle. Inosuke didn't like being told what to do, and the other helpers wanted nothing to do with his temper and boastfulness. It took all your cunningness to figure out ways to get him to take his medicine and rest. He was so eager to show off his strength to the other demon slayers that he couldn't even see the repercussion of his actions. If he kept reinjuring himself, he would never be back out in the field doing missions. One day you got caught up in helping some other injured demon slayers, so it took you longer than usual to check in and make sure Inosuke had taken his medicine and wasn't out and about refusing to rest. You found him sitting outside watching some other demon slayers train.

"Good afternoon, Inosuke. Did you remember to take your medicine today?"

"Of course, I did!" He responded.

You were taken aback, every other day it was a battle to get him to follow orders. 

"You said yesterday that if I want to be the best demon slayer I have to, right? I had to know when to rest in order to fight again. Well I did, and I'm sitting here doing nothing just like you told me. How long is this going to take anyway?" He continued annoyed.  

You were shocked that somehow the messages you've repeated over and over again finally sunk into that boar head.

"If you rest as ordered I would say a few more weeks."

"A FEW MORE WEEKS?? UGHH"

"I can check on your injuries today if you'd like maybe they are better since you've been resting."

"Sure."

"Oh, and here is what headquarters has on the menu toady for food." You handed him a menu with a few options for dinner.”

"Uh.. I can’t read or write can you just tell me."

"Oh.. yeah of course."

You started to feel some sympathy for him, and a little curious about his up brining. After going over the food options with him he proclaimed,  

"ONE OF EVERYTHING!"

You smiled at his enthusiasm. He does like to eat you thought. At least that will help him heal too.

'I didn't realize you couldn't write. If you need help writing letters to anyone, feel free to ask."

"HU? What's that?" He asked.

“Letters?”  

“Yeah, what are those?”

His question made you even more curious about his background. Where had this boy grown up if he’d never heard of letters before?

“Letters are papers with handwriting on them. Some demon slayers use them to send messages to loved ones or friends during missions to ensure them they are ok.” You explained.

“Oh. No thanks I don’t have any of those.”  

You weren’t sure how to respond to that. Did this demon slayer not have a family?  

"Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, defensive.  

“My apologized Inosuke I'm not sure how to respond. You don’t have any family or friends you’d want to send a message to?” You asked again hoping for more clarification.  

"I grew up in the mountains all by myself. I don’t have a family, brothers, sisters, any of that.” He said without any hints of emotion and turned back to watch the other demon slayers training in the quart yard.  

"Pardon me, but may I ask you something?"

"Sure! I don't blame you for wanting to know more about Lord Inosuke.”

“What do you mean by grew up in the mountains, how did you get there?” You asked. The demon slayer looked down and appeared to be lost in thought for a few moments before answering.  

“I don't really remember it's just all I've known. I lived and grew up there testing my strength."

Your heart started to break for the demon slayer. What kind of childhood could that have been? Growing up in the mountains all alone. That must have meant his parents abandoned him... you wondered if Inosuke knew this. It must have been terribly lonely. This also explained his dreadful manners and lack of education. You gathered your thoughts and thought of a response that wouldn’t give away your true feelings. Inosuke didn’t seem like the type of person that would take well to sympathy, but you knew he loved praise and feeling tough.  

"Well, that is very impressive indeed Inosuke. I can see growing up there has made you very strong. I hope headquarters can be just as accommodating to you as your home in the mountains.” You smiled at him.

He didn’t respond but appeared to be content with your response. It was hard to tell with that mask always on.

“Would you like me to wash your mask and clothes for you?" You asked, hoping to see what the demon slayer’s reactions were.

"Uh sure." He said and took off his mask to hand to you.

"Oh!” You exclaimed without being able to keep a straight face. That was not what you expected him to look like at all under that mask.

"WHAT!" His face turned from soft to angry in an instant.  

"My apologies it's just that.. you are very attractive." You blushed and walked off too afraid to look up and see his reactions now.

#anime x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #inosuke x you #inosuke x reader #inosuke #inosuke hashibira #inosuke x y/n #demon slayer #kny x reader #kny x you #kny x y/n #demon slayer x reader #anime x y/n #anime x you

[resowrites]

Hitch - oneshot.

Summary: Henry and his girlfriend hit a bump in the road…

Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Girlfriend!OC

Warnings: angst, fluff, relationship difficulties/argument, language, pet names, nondescript OC body type/appearance, brief allusion to smut, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: 1630

A/N: Hi folks, still not back in the writing groove but gave it a go and this was the result lol Sorry for deleting the last request, still having a crisis of confidence but I appreciate all interactions (especially as it helps me figure out blog direction). Not sure how often I’ll continue posting atm but feel free to send requests etc. - R x

My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!

Hitch - oneshot.

"I just want you to tell me why."

"Henry, do you not think if there was another reason, I’d just say so? Especially if it meant not having this conversation again?"

"So you honestly expect me to believe that you won’t get married simply because don't want to?"

"Yes! I said as much not long after we got together, why did you think I’d change my mind?"

"I dunno, I thought maybe you were trying to protect yourself. I know being with someone like me will never be straightforward, but why is marriage an impossibility given how long we've now been together? I've never done anything to make you doubt me or my love for you." She sighed and placed her hands on her hips, struggling to comprehend how watching some dreadful reality show about matchmaking had led to their current discussion. 

"Henry, I really can’t have this conversation again. I've told you my reason why and won't keep repeating myself. Goodnight." Henry dashed between her and the living room door.

"Darling please, we need to talk about this. Surely you can appreciate why I’m confused? You won't attend premieres with me, you don’t often travel with me. I respect that you're your own person and want to be out of the spotlight at much as possible, but now I'm worried you don't feel the same way about me anymore."

"Henry, you already know that isn't true. For fuck's sake I take care of everything each and every day don't I? Your house, your personal affairs, even your dog! I live in the middle of nowhere for you, I get abused every day worldwide for you, and I can't even walk down the fucking street without the risk of being photographed - all for you! Why would I do any of that if I didn't love you? I've never wanted your money, connections, or anything else, and yet here you are questioning me!" But her anger only served to rile him up further. 

"Well, I wonder why! You sound pretty resentful even though this is our house, our dog, our fucking life! For God’s sake I thought we were past this, what else can I do to prove that you're my priority?"

"I'm not resentful, that's my point! And we didn't choose this house or other aspects of our life together but I'm still here, still dedicated to you. What else do I have to do, to prove that?"

"So that would help? If we moved, chose a house together?" She clasped her forehead, exasperated.

"Ugh, no! I love this house because you chose it, just like I love you. Now let me go to bed." Henry blocked her path once again.

"No, please… I'm just trying to understand. You forget that I know you were engaged before, so is it that? You love me but you were in love with him?"

"Or the experience just confirmed marriage isn't for me. If I'd lost the person I loved most, why would I settle? I'm hardly the type, am I?" He searched her eyes.

"But if it's inconsequential to you why can't we do it? I just want you to be my wife, you know fine well I'll never hurt or leave you!"

"Except I don't! No one can. I don't want marriage because I don’t believe it's a vow anyone can honestly make. You might wake up tomorrow and decide you don't love me anymore, or next week you could meet someone who makes you realise you never did. I'm sorry but having to get divorced just adds insult to injury and I won't do it to myself. I refuse to."

"Oh, darling." Henry tried to move in for a hug but she swiftly raised her hand.

"Stop it. Whether you accept it or not, I continue to be here because I love you, and I'm sorry you think I haven't done enough to make that clear."

"And I'm sorry you think I don't love you as much as you love me." A look flashed briefly across her face.

"When did I say that?!"

"Throughout this entire conversation! So I was right all along, you think I'm just a selfish prick who wants to have his cake and eat it. First it was your father, then your ex, and now me. I'm just the latest in a long line of disappointments, aren't I? What do you want me to do? Give up acting? Will that be a big enough improvement for you?" There was no mistaking the look on her face anymore.

"How dare you. I've always respected what you do--"

“She said sarcastically.”

"Oh whatever, all this really comes down to is you not being able to control me any further than you already do." He stepped back a moment, turning around only halfway when he was ready to speak again.

"You don't really believe that?"

"Either way, I'm never getting married or having children. If that's too much for you then, I suppose... our relationship is already over." Her eyes were distraught and Henry rushed forwards, gripping the sides of her arms.

"No, no. Please, don't say that. I'm not losing you over something like this. Having children is different and besides, I don’t want to share you with anyone else," she felt her heart pinch. "I'm sorry, Okay? I'm just hurt, but I'll get over it. Yes, I'm old-fashioned, I find it hard that you don't let me spoil you, or that we have to take turns paying for holidays. You even have to pay for the upkeep of this place!”

"Yes, because you bought it despite us both living here, why can't I at least contribute?" He finally let her go, sighing as his head dropped down.

"I just want to care of you."

"And you do! Which I'm grateful for and is the reason I do whatever I can to take care of you as well. Marriage gives me the ick, alright? I'm just not lovey-dovey, sue me."

"Bollocks. You spend ages cuddling Kal, cooking for me… do you know you even cuddle up to me at night after you've fallen asleep? I try and stay awake just so--" his voice caught in his throat, "I don't miss it. We don't have to have a wedding, though you seemed to enjoy Mark's and Claire's...”

"I'd enjoy myself at funerals if they had open bars." 

"Well, what if something happens to me? I need to make sure everything's taken care of."

"We can go to a solicitor for that." Henry rubbed his jaw.

"What if we make it just us? We don't have to invite anyone other than the witnesses." She pondered the suggestion for a moment. 

"How about we have a civil union?" He scowled.

"What, where you don't have to change your title, surname, or even be called my wife?"

"Henry that's my last offer, take it or leave it. For fuck's sake why can't I just be your partner? That's all I've ever wanted to be..." She swallowed back her tears but practically fled the room. Henry just stood with his head in his hands. Neither of them slept well that night.

***

The next couple of days passed uneasily, not that she didn't try her best to make things better. She still didn't want to give in to Henry though, no matter how bad it felt not to. She thought she’d sacrificed enough for them to be together. If she said yes to this, then what would be next? It was as she was curled up on the sofa, letting such thoughts churn over and over in her mind, that he came and sat down beside her. After a couple of minutes, he gently took her hand. "Listen, I've thought about what you said and I think I finally understand. With that in mind, I'd like you to accept these as a promise that we'll belong to each other for as long as possible and as best we can.” He looked at her knowingly while pulling two velvet boxes from his pocket. “I got you the same promise ring as mine as I know you don't like anything sparkly, mine's just wider cos I've got big hands and need it to last. You don't have to be a Mrs or take my surname either, though I know you don’t like yours so I thought maybe you could anyway?" His hopeful eyes were met with the mischief in hers.

"But your surname’s awful as well!" He snorted.

"Fair enough, I know it's a nightmare changing everything by deed poll anyway. We can wear the rings on our right hands if you want, so... what do you think?"

"I'll accept it on one condition," she teased, though the tears in her eyes were plain to see.

"Which is?"

"You get down on one knee." Henry stared at her for a moment in disbelief but soon hurled himself to the floor, grinning as she presented her right hand. He took his time, making sure to slide the band on carefully. Once that was done she grabbed his and as gently as her patience would allow, twisted it over his finger. They beamed at each other before he leaped to his feet, pulling her with him so they could kiss and embrace. His heart felt like it was about to burst. "You know, if I'm not your wife then what will you call me?"

"How about 'wagon?'" She giggled and swatted him on the arm. "What about me?"

"Hmm, let's see... what else begins with 'w?'" He roared with laughter, planted another kiss on her mouth, and swept her up into his arms. She knew they were headed for the stairs before he even turned round.

To be updated on when I post please follow @resowrites and turn on post notifications.

@marytudorbrandon @luclittlepond

#henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fluff

[ploxpoke]

Crazy in Love Ch 1.

No use of y/n, reader is only referred to as you and is going to be g/n.

No smut for this first chapter, bc I'm still feeling out how I want this to go. Mention of substance use but no usage, slight violence

______________________________________________________________

You had just gotten a frantic call from Yuji's phone and you assumed the worst. Your heart sank to your feet when you heard the words ‘Yuji’s in trouble.’ It was like the wind was knocked right out of your chest and the grip you had on your phone tightened. You tried to ask who was on the phone but you were just talked over. All you were told was directions and that your help was needed to save Yuji.

 So, of course you dropped everything and left immediately. Once you had gotten there you had initially wondered why Yuji would be at a school instead of a hospital or doctors office, and why you were needed to help him but you didn't question if further as a man with white hair and a blindfold greeted you and had you follow him.

 "I honestly didn't expect you to show up” He says with an almost smug grin “but thank you for it” He starts to walk towards one of the buildings around the school grounds, talking as he walked “ My name is Satoru Gojo, I am one of Itadori’s teachers, and as much as I hate to admit it, I need your help.” Gojo went on to vaguely explain that all you needed to do was talk to Itadori, and you frowned. You gave him a curious look and almost objected but you didn’t. Instead you asked “How is that going to help? You said this was urgent, shouldn’t he be in the hospital?”

Gojo just laughed and shook his head “This is something doctors can’t help with unfortunately. I just need you to talk to him, give him an anchor. Itadori really is lucky to have known you as long as he has. It makes you a perfect candidate. "  Gojo led you down a hall. He greeted several other students and walked towards a door with several seals on it. He paused for a moment before looking at you "I can’t go in with you but I should warn you, you won’t be seeing your Itadori. Just be careful and if anything goes south yell for me.” He puts a hand on your shoulder and looks down at you “You’re his last hope and our last ditch effort to save him.” Gojo’s tone had shifted to a darker, more serious one and it made you worry even more.

You turn slowly to the door and slowly open it, entering with caution. When you enter the room, you feel a chill run up your body and you sense a dark aura. You take deep, stressed breaths as you look around "Yuji? Are you here?" You say in a forced calm tone. You look around and can’t see more than a few feet in front of you. Your breath hitches as you realize you’ll have to enter fully to find Itadori and your calm demeanor falters for a second before you force it back.

 As you step further into the dark room you look around and you see movement in the darkness. You feel a sense of dread creeping up your spine but you press on. You slowly walk further into the room when you hear a noise from behind you and before you have the chance to turn around, something tackles you to the ground. When you regain your bearings you realize the thing that had pushed you down was in fact Itadori and you let out a small sigh of relief.

You look up at your friend that you love so much, and you hit him hard across the face. You glare up at him yelling "What the hell is wrong with you? Get off" Little did you know, that was not currently Yuji Itadori, but Ryomen Sukuna. The king of curses looked down at you with a disgusted expression. He raises a fist, is about to end you when his body slumps forward, landing on you.

Itadori regains control of his body and just lays limply on top of you. You look at him with wide eyes unsure of what to do. When he finally sits up you push him off you and start to yell at him “You fucking jerk! What the hell is wrong with you! I was worried that you were hurt or dying and you pull this? Is this some sort of joke!?” You continue to yell at Itadori until you see him looking really dazed. You crouch down next to him and nudge him.  When he looks up at you, you tilt your head and mumble “Are you okay? I was worried…” Itadori nods slightly and  leans his head on you before quietly giving a half-assed “I’ll tell you later”

Sukuna watches from within Itadori, seeing and hearing all he does. Sukuna recognizes you, the way you look, the way you sound, and your soul. The stark resemblance and the strike of familiarity he got when he looked at you made him feel emotions he’d forgotten he had. He knew you, even if it wasn't the you in front of him. The you he had known was a shrine maiden he’d taken a liking to and became obsessed with when he was still human. You were his once, and he wanted you back after all these hundreds of years. Sukuna decided then and there you were going to be his again and he’d manage to convince his young vessel one way or another to help in his conquest of you.

Itadori gives you a sorry look “Are you okay?”

“Am I alright? he asks!?” you give him an incredulous look and glare at him “What the hell is wrong with you!” you yell at him, clearly scared “What the fuck happened?” 

Yuji looks genuinely guilty and winces at your reaction, understanding why you're so angry and afraid. His voice is soft and apologetic as he tries to explain "I’m not sure how to explain it to you..." He takes a deep breath and explains who Sukuna is and how he ended up as his vessel. “I know I sound crazy but I need you to trust me, I swear I’m telling you the truth” He pleads with you and reaches out to you only for you to pull away from him with a fearful expression.

Sukuna watches from inside Yuji's mind, and begins his manipulation of his vessel. He starts to whisper dark, disturbing, and lustful words about you to Itadori, who ignores them to the best of his ability. Sukuna sees the conflict in your eyes and can’t help but laugh. He knows you’ll be his sooner rather than later and it amuses him that you think you have any choice.

"L-Look, I just need you to trust me-" Itadori says as he, again, tries to reach for you

“No! I will not look anything!” you stand up and back away from him “Are you on something? What reason should I believe there’s some fucking demon-curse thing in your mind!” You stand up and start to get even more scared and angry “And even if I did believe you, what could I even do to help?” You say in a broken voice and Itadori’s expression falls as he realizes how crazy he must sound.

Itadori’s voice is soft and pleading as he speaks "Please, just hear me out. I promise I’m not on anything and I’m not lying to you.. All I want is for us to talk, I want you to understand that’s all” He puts his hands up in a surrendering motion, as he takes a small step towards you. “I just need you to listen to me, I swear-”

“No I won’t listen! I should leave right now.” You almost scream at him, hands shaking “I don't want to hear anything you have to say right now!” Your voice breaks and you stare down at the ground. You take deep, shallow breaths and you sigh deeply. “I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me it’s the truth” Yuji holds his hand out to you and keeps eye contact with you. “It is the truth. Crazy as it sounds, I swear it is”

(No clue on what I'm going to do next but I'll figure it out. If anyone has any suggestions I'll gladly take them. I'll eventually get to smut but idk how to do that transition)

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #yuji x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna #yuji itadori #there will be a part 2 #and part 3

[sinofwriting]

Space - Sonny Quinn

Words: 804 Prompt: Rumor

Get Added To My Taglist | Masterlist

“Ya know, I heard a rumor about you.” She startles at the familiar texan drawl, lifting her eyes from the bar top. “And what was that?” Sonny grins down at her, taking her looking at him as permission to sit with her. “Well, that would be telling, wouldn’t it?” She makes a humming noise, eyes already back on the bar top. He frowns at how despondent she was and he can’t help but lightly nudge her. Wondering what's going on in her pretty little head.

“You alright?” She nods. “I’m okay, Sonny.” He snorts, “and why do I not believe you?” “I’m not in the mood. Just a bad day, that’s all. Go drink with one of the guys. I think Valerie will show up sometime tonight.” The name Valerie makes something itch in the back of his brain, but he ignores it. “I’m fine right here.”

He expects quiet acceptance, a huff of exasperation, another urging for him to go away. He doesn’t expect the way her lips thin as they press together, the jerky way she stands and grabs her purse, managing to leave the bar before he can get up.

He quickly follows after her, concern festering inside of him. This wasn’t like her, none of this was like. The staring despondently at the bar, not telling him in the first place she was going to the bulkhead, the reminder of apparently a girl coming around for him. None of those things fit with the woman he’d known for nearly five years.

Sonny manages to catch up to her quickly, not realizing exactly what he’s doing or how it looks as he stands behind her as she fumbles with her car keys and he puts a hand on the driver’s door, preventing her from opening it even if her hands manage to stop shaking.

“What’s going on?” Her hand shakes a bit more and his jaw twitches. With his other hand, he wraps it around her arm, turning her to face him and his heart drops to his feet at the tears in her eyes. “What’s going on?” He repeats, voice more gentle. She shakes her head, “nothing. I’m fine.” “You’re crying.” “It’s nothing, Sonny. I just need to go home.” “C’mon, what’s going on?” “Sonny,” and the concern that had been sitting heavy in his gut turns to dread. Nothing good came out of anyone saying his name like that and he releases her arm, stumbling back from her.

“What did I do?” He doesn’t even recognize his own voice, only knows it belongs to him, because the words feel like broken glass in his throat and spilling onto his tongue.

He doesn’t notice the way her posture changes, the heartbreak that flashes across her face, as he tries to figure what he did, how he fucked up. It was a matter of time, he’d always known that, but nothing was coming to mind.

A soft hand gently resting on his arm for a second draws him out of his mind and then there’s two hands cupping his face and he wants to pull away. Those soft, gentle hands of hers shouldn’t be on him. Shouldn’t be anywhere near him, not when he’s fucked up.

“You listen to me, Sonny Quinn and you listen good. You haven’t done a damn thing.” Her voice is so firm, that he can’t think to protest, not when he’s looking into those pretty eyes of hers, nearly losing himself in them. “I just,” she pauses, taking a breath, eyes closing before they open and he can see her steeling herself. “I like you. And I’m not dealing with it all that well, right now. So I just need some space and time and then I’ll be back, right by your side.”

She starts to take a step back, hands moving down to rest on his shoulders, when she’s stopped, his hands landing on her hips and gripping them with a vice-like grip.

“And if I don’t want you to take some space?” She can feel her heart beating faster than she thinks it ever has. “I want a relationship, Sonny. I don’t want to just fall into bed. Could you give me that?” “Yes.” The instant and serious reply sends her reeling. “I wouldn’t know what the fuck I’m doing, but yes. I’ll take you on a date everyday for the rest of our goddamn lives if you want.” She can’t help but laugh at the utter seriousness in his voice. “How about once a week when you’re home we have a day or just a night where it’s just us. A lot more doable than a date everyday.” He smiles at her. “If that’s what the lady wants.” “It absolutely is.” And before he can say anything else, she’s pressing their lips together.

#sonny quinn x reader #sonny quinn imagine #seal team x reader #seal team imagine #this was meant to be less than 500 words also was not suppose to be angsty #idk what happened

[lilypadding]

— stay 'til the morning

ᡣ𐭩 pairing: nanami chiaki x komaeda nagito

summary: after they spend the afternoon together, komaeda helps a very sleepy nanami back to her cottage.

# tags: set in sdr2, tooth rotting fluff, self-indulgent entirely, just need them to be friends (cries and sobs)

(~1.5k words) | this can technically act as a prequel moment to the fifth trial | divider

Nanami’s eyes are heavy when she opens them. All she can register is a numbing pain in her back, and something tightly pressed against her cheek. The sound of quaint shifts in water and a soft breeze rustling the nearby palm trees almost makes her drift off again.

“Oh, have you woken up?” 

Komaeda’s voice. Nanami fights to blink a few times. 

He laughs in his lower register. Nanami’s mouth draws open, yawning and squeezing her eyes shut. She stretches her arms and realizes she’s not laying down. It feels like she’s sitting at a table. Her knee jerks up, almost involuntarily, and a prickling static surges to her thighs. Falling asleep at a public bench attached to a patio table does no wonders for your limbs. When Nanami raises her head and ignores the pain in her shoulders, her eyes land on the pool they’re beside. The table’s built-in umbrella flaps with a new gust of wind. 

Something is draped over her shoulders, but she can’t find the energy to question the light pressure. 

“C’mon,” Komaeda puts his hand on her shoulder. It’s extremely warm— the sensation nearly burns through her sweater. “We’ve gotta get you to your cottage.”

“Where…” Nanami’s voice dies before she can finish her line. 

“You’re outside the diner,” Komaeda supplies, still tugging at her shoulder, “We spent some time here this afternoon, and you drifted to sleep. It’s nearly nighttime.”

Nanami folds her arms over the table. She closes her eyes, unconvinced at the notion of moving anywhere. Exhaustion is etching into her, threatening to knock her out again despite the cold that’s biting her legs and feet. 

“It was a pleasure that you’d want to play your game while I read. Even sitting in silence, you’re willing to accompany me.”

Her perception starts to grow darker. And fuzzier.

“Nanami-san,” Komaeda teases her name in a sing-song voice, “We wouldn’t want you getting in trouble. Let’s go.”

“Nooo,” She draws out, a wave of drowsiness smacking down at her. 

“I’ll steal your games if you don’t.”

Nanami’s eyes shoot open. She groans, making a show of how much she dreads the idea of standing up. Komaeda laughs as she slowly gets herself to sit up. When he stands from the table, she grabs his arm, and there is something strange in feeling his bare skin. But her tired mind can’t decipher what’s wrong with it. 

“There you go,” Komaeda mumbles once Nanami is properly standing upright. She pushes off the dizzy feeling that’s edging her to tumble as she begins taking the first few steps. Komaeda stays just behind her, guiding her with a hand on her elbow, placed so lightly she almost doesn’t feel it. 

She squints at the view of all the cottages as the moon casts an uneasy light over the docks. The water beneath the docks recedes and laps quietly. There is nothing to listen to save for the low clicking of his footsteps against the hardwood. Nanami wallows in the comforting sound of waves, crickets calling, and rustling bushes. Cold shivers run up her body as she walks, and she tugs what’s been draped over her shoulders tighter around herself, retaining the ounce of heat. 

“We’re almost there,” Komaeda reassures from behind her. Nanami wants to nod, but the motion fails after she nearly trips over herself. Komaeda grips her arm properly in a rush. 

“I’m sorry,” Nanami mumbles, squinting into the light of the other cottages. 

“What?” Komaeda laughs lightly, “You’re not at fault for that.”

Nanami sways, and Komaeda stops her from taking another step. 

“Okay, we’re here,” Komaeda says cheerily, “Do you keep it locked?”

“No,” Nanami replies, following it up with a yawn. Komaeda presses her arm, signaling for her to continue. She obliges. 

The door clicks open, and a creak sounds out when it swings inside. 

Both of them enter, and Nanami beelines for the bed, her feet shuffling against the wooden floors. She flops into the mattress, tugging what’s draped over her tighter against herself as if it were her blanket. From her place in bed, she casts her feet over the mattress and kicks her shoes off. 

She groans as she curls further into herself, drawing the makeshift blanket even closer to her. 

“Aha, wait,” Komaeda inches closer to her but stays out of reach, “Don’t you want to switch into nighttime clothes before drifting to bed again?”

Nanami shakes her head against her pillow, then verbalizes a short “No” which sounds more like a weak groan if anything. 

“Are you sure? That can’t be comfortable.”

“Komaeda… kun…” Nanami’s eyes are closed. Her hand peeks out from beneath what’s covering her, exposing cold air to prick her skin. “Stay…”

Silence falls over the room.

“Huh…?”

Nanami is too tired to process her own thoughts. Her mind is running on wants.

“Stay here,” Nanami says, sleep already weighing her words into something close to incoherency, “Until… fall asleep…”

“N-Nanami-san?”

“Come here,” Nanami pats her bed. She scoots back slowly, her eyes still closed, still wrapped up in the mystery blanket. 

Komaeda doesn’t move for a while. 

“Ugh…” Nanami whines, “Please? Just… need your company… ‘till sleep.”

There’s no shift heard from the floor. For another long moment, he doesn’t move.

Until the floorboards begin creaking again, making way for his footsteps who are slowly approaching the bed. 

“I don’t want to impose…” He starts off with, standing before it. “I think I should get going, Nanami—”

Nanami’s eyes part open, enough for her to latch an aim at his wrist and lock onto it with her hand. 

“Sit,” Nanami drawls, her mouth being half muffled by her pillow. 

Komaeda lets out a nervous laugh. Nanami’s eyes drift to close all over again. She tugs at his arm, and she can feel him leaning forward slightly at the gesture. She bites back a smile before she tugs as hard as she can.

Komaeda yelps, and the mattress beneath her takes a dip. His hands have landed on either side of Nanami’s head, and his arms are locked so as to prop himself up before having to otherwise crash into her.  

Nanami snorts, and she can’t fight off her amused smile as she begins to laugh. 

“Hey!” Komaeda says through a weakened grin, and Nanami opens her eyes wider. His startled expression hovering over her makes her giggle harder.

Komaeda’s grin grows as he watches her drift into hysterics. He begins laughing, finding her amusement to be contagious. 

“You-” Nanami tries to fight off her own laughter to get the words out, “You yelped like a dog—!”

The phrase makes her giggle that much harder. Komaeda huffs with an embarrassed smile. Watching her laugh is enough for him to join her. 

“You caught me off guard,” He says. His hair is falling over his face more than ever. 

“That was the point,” Nanami grins at him. He returns the smile, his face flushed red at the previous embarrassment. Nanami continues to laugh at the thought of the sound he’d made while he pivots himself out of hovering over her and instead settles into sitting at the edge of the bed, still facing her. 

“Ah, I woke you up, didn’t I?” Komaeda’s voice gives off a hint of disappointment. 

“Hm, it’s okay,” Nanami shifts so she’s lying on her side again, “It's more time we get to spend together before I fall asleep again.”

Komaeda’s eyes widen. Nanami’s smile grows. She hasn’t seen him smile like this in a while. Komaeda has a tendency to smile constantly, but his expression is never as genuine as it is right now. 

“R-Right,” He looks away from her, picking at the hem of his shirt, “I guess you’re right.”

His eyes skim over Nanami’s figure, brows turning in slightly. 

“You should get under the covers, Nanami-san. I doubt my jacket is enough to keep you warm.” 

Nanami grips the edges of it. Her eyes trail down, and the material practically wrapped around her. Ah. So this was her makeshift blanket. Komaeda must have put it over her after she fell asleep at their table. 

If she even casually shrugs it off, he’d mentally turn this into an excuse of being ‘proof’ that he’s beneath his classmates. She can already picture him saying, ‘Of course you wouldn’t want my unfortunate possessions on your skin.’ 

“No,” Nanami says. “It's warm. I like it.”

Komaeda looks like he's been struck by something. Again. 

“Ah. Your day clothes and my jacket as pajamas. You're a curious sleeper.”

“You're judging me before bed?”

“I'm deplorable, truly. That's all the more reason to kick me out, isn't it?”

Nanami pouts and reaches out, gripping his wrist with a tight hold, set on not letting go. 

“You're going to stay here. And you will not leave. Tell me a bedtime story.”

“A bedtime—?”

“Just talk.”

#nagito komaeda #chiaki nanami #danganronpa #danganronpa 2 #danganronpa fanfiction #komanami #komanami fanfiction #fluff

[mycurrent-hyperfixation]

Take A Chance On Me - Chapter Ten (Eddie Munson x Reader Series)

Series Summary: Corroded Coffin is lacking only one thing that could help them win the upcoming Battle of the Bands; original songs. So when a new band comes to town with a lead singer that looks all too familiar and a repertoire of original songs up their sleeves, Dustin concocts a plan that will get you to spill all of your songwriting secrets to Eddie. It’s just a few dates, right?

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist

Word Count: 7.5K

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Reader, Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, 10 Things I Hate About You AU

A/N: Welcome back everyone to this weeks chapter. We're barrelling towards the end of this fic here so I just want to say a big thank you to all of you who stick around every week and leave your wonderful comments. At the rate I'm going I reckon there'll be 13 chapters in total but maybe I might add a little epilogue thing if you guys wanted. I do love a good epilogue. On a serious note, what do you guys honestly think of my writing? I'm always looking to improve so if you have any notes on my writing style that you think I could work on could you please comment them? I think a big flaw of mine is that my pacing is slow. What do you guys think? As always, I love you all 🥰

The semi-finals of Fort Wayne’s Battle of the Bands saw the competition’s only female contestants advancing to the finals along with Corroded Coffin. Last week’s round saw outstanding performances from both bands with Corroded Coffin’s original song ‘Nicotine’ opening the show and certainly setting a high standard to compete with. This was followed up strongly with original song ‘Songs I Can’t Listen To’ by the girl group whose electrifying guitar solo and captivating lyrics secured them a spot in the competition’s final round.

Both original songs shared a similar theme of heartbreak and failed relationships with Corroded Coffin’s lead singer Eddie Munson dedicating the song to a mysterious lost love. With both bands hailing from the small town of Hawkins, Indiana, and with girl group’s lead singer Y/N L/N performing with Munson’s signature guitar this week, audiences were left wondering whether these contestants might have a deeper connection than initially thought.

Hiding from Eddie Munson was much harder than one might expect.

You thought that your abrupt exit from the carpark at the competition would have been enough to convey the message that you did not want to see him. At the very least, your friends’ reiterations of the sentiments should have delivered the message clearly enough. And yet as much as you hated the sight of him, as much as you dreaded the sound of his voice or the smell of his cheap cologne that seemed to haunt you wherever you went, you had to admit that the boy was remarkably persistent.

The first time he had tried to talk to you since the last round of the competition you had been working. You hadn’t even seen him, too busy with whatever task you had been preoccupied with when Meg had quite unceremoniously pushed you into the storeroom without so much as a warning. It had been his voice that had alerted you to his presence, soft and tentative and altogether quite hesitant as he had approached Meg by the counter, not an easy feat considering the death glare she was undoubtedly sporting.

“Is she here?” you had heard him say, and even just the one statement had had your heart yearning to see him again. But you stayed where you were, not daring to even move as your ear remained firmly pressed up against the wood of the door.

“Even if she were, I wouldn’t tell you,” Meg had responded venomously.

He had not prompted further. Instead, with a defeated sigh, his footsteps had begun retreating until the bell had chimed above the door upon his exit.

Several days and several successfully dodged encounters with Eddie Munson later, you entered Family Video with a sigh, a copy of The Breakfast Club tucked under your arm.

“You know I can’t keep waiving these late fees every time you feel like rewatching a film eighteen times,” Steve called out to you.

“Well then what’s the point of having friends who work at a video store?” you said back, offering him a small smile. You handed him the tape as Robin emerged from the backroom, and upon seeing you, she skipped the distance over to the counter and leaned down upon it.

“Really, Y/N? The Breakfast Club again?” Robin said with a groan.

“I’m returning it, thank you very much.”

“Sure,” Robin said with a wide roll of her eyes. “Did you see the article?”

You groaned, bringing your head down to bang it lightly upon the desk.

“Yes. And now the whole of Indiana knows about my dating history.”

“No offence, Y/N,” Steve said. “But I can guarantee you that the whole of Indiana does not read a magazine article about a Battle of the Bands competition in Fort Wayne.”

“Let a girl dream, Steve,” you said, your voice slightly muffled from where your face was pressed up against the counter.

“How’s the song writing going?” Robin said.

You unfolded yourself back to your natural height, your energy suddenly renewed at the change in topic.

“I think I’ve finally managed to fit something into that cool chord progression you had last week at practice. But I was thinking-”

“I love when you do that,” Robin interjected. You leaned over the counter and punched her lightly in the arm.

“Do you remember the song Ed-” you hesitated, “that Corroded Coffin played at the second round?”

“How could I forget? I think they burst my eardrums with how loud it was.”

“That’s what I mean! It was loud because the crowd joined in.” You leaned further across the counter. “We’ve been pretty neck and neck with them throughout the whole comp but in that round they scored higher than they normally did, because…”

“Because…” Robin tried, although it was clear that she was confused.

“Audience participation!”

Robin looked no less confused, and now even Steve was furrowing his brows. You groaned and brought your hands up to rub at your face.

“There are eight categories that our songs are judged by and the last one is audience reception. When Corroded Coffin played that round they only beat us because they got full marks for that category.”

“That’s only because the crowd sung along,” Robin offered.

“Exactly! In a competition like this you need original songs to win, but the problem is the audience won’t know the lyrics to any of our songs because they’ve never heard them before. They sung along to that song because the repetition of the ‘na na na’s was easy for them to learn.”

Robin only furrowed her brows once more.

“Soooo…we need to have basic lyrics?”

“Well, I was thinking we could-”

“Shit,” Steve breathed, cutting you off.

“What?” Robin said, turning her gaze to Steve and then turning instead to follow where he was staring. “Shit,” she repeated.

You turned around, following Steve and Robin’s gaze across the store and out of the front window where a very large and very black van was pulling into the parking lot, loud music spilling from its open windows.

“Shit,” you groaned.

The panic that ensued was almost comical.

“Get her out the back!” Robin said.

“We can’t, Keith’s out the back!” Steve responded.

“Y/N’s hot, he won’t care!”

“Y/N,” Steve turned his attention to you. “How do you feel about having to hide out the back whilst Keith tries to flirt with you?”

“Repulsed,” you said immediately.

“See, Robin? It’s a lose-lose situation here.”

You turned back around to look out of the window, the sight of Eddie Munson jumping from his van causing a range of emotions to rush through you. He plucked the cigarette from between his lips, dropping it onto the floor and extinguishing it with the point of his shoe. It was strange, seeing him again after having successfully avoided him for over a week, for as you looked upon him you felt that same searing hot anger that had boiled up inside you as you had yelled at Eddie across that carpark. It made a part of you want to storm right out to him and slap him all over again just as you had done at the Hideout. But then there were those final words that he had yelled out to you replaying relentlessly in your mind now. The sheen that had been behind his eyes, the passion in his words, the crack in his voice. It all came rushing back so that now there was also something else lingering in the depths of your heart; something that yearned to walk up to him and run your hand along the length of his jaw, to feel his breath upon your skin.

He looked tired, you realised, his hair flat and tangled, his eyes weary and rimmed with dark circles. In truth, he looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and the thought made you want to stay where you were, to face him once and for all, to give him the chance to say whatever it was he had been trying to say for the past week as you had continued to avoid him.

But then, as his figure drew closer, you altogether realised that no, you could not do this. For your heart had begun to race and your breathing had begun to quicken, and you weren’t altogether too sure whether that was because you wanted to see him or you didn’t. So you stuck with the latter, whipping back around to find Steve and Robin still bickering.

“Maybe she can hide in the adult section, surely he won’t go in there,” Robin said.

“I wouldn’t be so certain,” Steve replied.

“Just shove over and let me duck behind the counter,” you called, not waiting for them to respond as you jumped up and over the bench. Now on the other side, you took one last look at the carpark, one last look at Eddie who had paused just before the door, his attention caught by something. You followed his gaze.

“Shit,” you, Steve and Robin all said in unison, watching on as Eddie stared quite obviously at your car parked right outside.

You ducked down just as Eddie opened the door, trying to still your racing heart and ragged breathing as Steve and Robin quite unsubtly scrambled to lean over you. You were expecting Eddie to make his way over to the counter, to ask about your whereabouts like he had done at the record store only a few days before. But as you listened intently to the sound of his muffled footsteps on the carpet, you realised that he instead appeared to be...browsing.

“What is he doing?” Robin whispered. 

“Do you want me to get him to leave?” Steve whispered down to you.

You thought about the proposition.

“No. If he’s just looking, leave him be,” you whispered back.

But whatever it was that Eddie had been looking for, it clearly did not take him long to find it, for it was only moments later that his footsteps were nearing the counter.

“You look like shit,” Steve grumbled as he took the tape that Eddie passed him.

“Why thank you, Harrington,” Eddie quipped back with a little less enthusiasm than his voice normally possessed. You expected him to reply with something else sarcastic, maybe a backhanded compliment directed at Steve. But instead he remained silent.

“You’re borrowing this again?” Robin said. “Didn’t you just take it out?”

“It’s a good movie,” was all Eddie responded with. The sheer defeat that his voice was laced with had your heart breaking all over again.

Robin and Steve said nothing more as Steve rung up Eddie’s tape and handed it back to him. The interaction took less than a minute, and you couldn’t quite tell whether that relieved or saddened you. Now Eddie was taking the tape from Steve’s grasp and turning to leave. But the sound of his retreating footsteps did not come.

You felt Robin and Steve stiffen beside you at Eddie’s hesitation.

And then everything seemed to happen all at once.

Keith emerged from the backroom, looking altogether quite disinterested as he called out to Steve and beckoned for him to follow. Steve hesitated, turning to look at Robin before he tentatively leaned away from the counter and slowly made his way to the backroom without ever taking his eyes off of Eddie. And then as if the world was somehow hellbent on ensuring your aloneness with someone you did not wish tose, the bell above the door chimed as somebody else entered the store.

“Can I please have some help?” an old woman called from the front, and you felt as Robin stiffened beside you.  

“I can help you from here-” Robin tried to say but paused abruptly as you hit her leg. “Alright, fine, I’ll be right there,” she continued before begrudgingly leaving the desk with a final sympathetic look down towards you.  

Eddie was silent now, making it difficult to determine where exactly he was, but then he was moving once more, returning to the counter to lean down upon it. You held your breath, not quite sure what you were waiting for.

“I told someone once that I had never been in love.”

His voice startled you so that you had to bring a hand up to cover your mouth in an attempt to stifle the gasp that fell from your lips. He was close now, close enough that you could hear him breathing. And whilst it was clear he was resting upon the counter, you noticed that he did not lean forwards to peer over its edge; he did not see you.

“That wasn’t exactly true. There was a girl once. The first time I saw her was in high school. She probably doesn’t remember it, but I was walking down the hallway and she bumped into me. People shoved into me all the time in school so I wasn’t exactly surprised. But when I turned to look at her I thought to myself that I had never seen anyone more beautiful. She was wearing this dress with little flowers on it and her hair was tied up because it was so hot that day. And when she looked up at me, she smiled and then apologised and then left.” Eddie paused, and you could hear him swallow thickly as if the scene were replaying itself within his mind. “That smile haunted me for years.”

You didn’t remember the interaction, and for some reason the thought pained you. But you did remember the dress, a staple in your wardrobe before it had gotten a hole in the side seam.  

“And then, years later, I saw her again, although this time she was playing an electric guitar and singing on a stage, and I honestly thought to myself that the world was fucking with me. Because how could there have been a person that beautiful and that talented that lived in Hawkins?   

“But then there was this stupid competition and the stupid songs that I couldn’t seem to write and the plan was so simple at first. You see, this girl was friends with this kid I knew. So I asked if he could get some song writing tips from her. But this kid,” Eddie chuckled to himself lightly, “he’s got a big imagination and the next thing I know he’s concocting this plan for me to date this girl so she can tell me all her song writing secrets herself. It was my plan though, not the kid’s, so I don’t blame him for everything going to shit. He’s a good kid, he just gets a little excited at times I think.”

You didn’t want to believe it, and yet it did sound like a very Dustin-like thing to do.

“I didn’t want to agree to the plan at first and I honestly think that the only reason I did say yes was because I was so completely sure that she would reject me. But there was something else as well, something that took me a long time to admit to myself. I think, deep down, I only really agreed to the plan because I’m a coward. The plan gave me an excuse to try with her, because I think that I never would have had the courage to talk to her otherwise. And then even when she eventually rejected me, I would be fine because none of it would have been real.”

You could feel tears start to well behind your eyes, and you tried desperately to keep them at bay. It was futile now to cling to the delusion that Eddie didn’t know you were residing behind the counter, and yet you did not get up and face him.

“But then when I did start to get to know her, she was more wonderful and more beautiful and more kind than I could have ever imagined. She was so kind that she didn’t reject me even though the rest of Hawkins would have. And then the more I got to know her the more...the more I began to fall for her because on top of her being talented and beautiful, she was also so fucking funny, which really just wasn’t fair to the rest of the human race at that point.

You stifled a laugh, which felt strange considering all the other emotions that were running through you.

“And I knew I should tell her everything, I wanted to tell her everything. But I just couldn’t bring myself to ruin everything. I was too scared to lose her. But I should have known I couldn’t hide it forever. I think it would’ve eaten me alive eventually, but the thing is, this girl is also super smart, so I should have known I could never keep anything from her for long.

“So when she found out and when everything eventually turned to shit, I avoided her. I told myself that I was avoiding her because she wouldn’t want to see me, but I think I was just being a coward again. I was scared of her hating me. I was scared that I would rock up to her house and I would just make her hate me more.

“But she deserves more than that. She deserves an apology and then she deserves to slap me again.”

And then, suddenly, Eddie did away with the pretending.

“You deserve better than me, Y/N, and if I was stronger I would have accepted that and stayed away from you. But I can’t, not from you, not when I haven’t even apologised.

“So I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry for the way I hurt you. But if I were to do it all again I’m not sure that I’d change anything. Because even though I’ve probably lost you forever, I think that without that stupid plan I never would have had the courage to talk to you. And I’ll take the short time that I had with you over never having known you at all. So even though what we had didn’t last all that long, I need you to know that it was perfect; that you were perfect. It was all real, Y/N, every last word that I said to you and every single emotion that I felt towards you was real. I-” Eddie hesitated. “I love you, Y/N. I think I’ve loved you from the day that you bumped into me in the hallway.”

You didn’t quite catch the sob before it left your lips, so you curled into yourself more in an attempt to bury the emotions further down. You knew that Eddie was aware of your presence behind the counter, and yet still you remained upon the floor, not knowing what exactly you be met with should you stand to face Eddie and unwilling to find out. Not when he had just said all of that. Not when tears were streaming freely down your cheeks now.

“I won’t bother you again if that’s what you want. I just couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least give you the apology you deserved. I wanted it to be better than this. I even wrote it down a bunch of times, but nothing seemed quite right. But if this is all that I can get of you than that’s what I’ll take. I won’t bother you at the finals. Hell, I’ll pull out of the competition if you want me to. And then after that you don’t ever have to see me again.”

Eddie paused, and he stayed silent for so long that for just a moment you thought he’d left. When he spoke again, his voice was somehow softer so that it came out in barely more than a whisper.  

“I-I want to fix this if you’ll let me. I don’t know how but I promise I’ll spend every day trying. I know I don’t deserve a second chance, though. I know it’s selfish of me to even ask, but I know that I’ll hate myself if I don’t try.

“If you don’t feel the same though-” Eddie’s voice cracked slightly, and at the sound of it you had to close your eyes in an attempt to stave off another sob. “I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t. Just avoid me at the comp and I’ll know. I-”

But suddenly Steve had returned, his pace almost a sprint as he made his way back behind the counter and spread his arms wide across the desk.  

“Talking to yourself now, Munson?” Steve’s voice was low, an attempt at intimidation.

“Something like that,” Eddie said, his tone defeated.

And then he was leaving, his footsteps muffled by the carpet. The bell above the door chimed as he left, and you let out a shaky sigh at the sound of it.

“Are you alright?” Steve asked as you hastily wiped away your tears. “What did he say? Because I can run out into the carpark now and-”

You smiled slightly at Steve’s enthusiasm.

“I’m fine,” you interjected just as Robin returned.  

“That’s like the third time this week that he’s rented that tape,” Robin said. “I mean, Top Gun wasn’t even that good.”

 

--- 

Somehow, as you pulled into the carpark of the competition’s venue for what would be the last time, everything was worse than it had been the week before.  

Your nerves were at an all-time high, although that was to be expected. And yet the shaking of your hands and the shallowness of your breath seemed to be completely forgotten in the wake of the twisting in your stomach and the racing of your heart caused by the prospect of seeing Eddie Munson again.  

And although you had been wracked with the same dread the last time you had found yourself within this carpark, now it was somehow worse. Because Eddie’s admission back at the video store had been repeating itself within your mind for the entirety of the week, and for the entirety of the week you had been at a loss for how you would respond when you eventually saw him again.

You thought of little else as you turned the car off and exited the vehicle, seemingly incapable of tuning in to the conversation that the girls were having around you. Procuring your instrument from the back, you felt strangely numb as you crossed the carpark, knowing that each step was taking you closer and closer to him.

“Do you know what you’re going to do yet?”

The voice startled you, and you turned to find Robin matching your hesitant pace, a kind smile waiting for you as you looked up at her.

“No,” you said, struggling to swallow the saliva that had suddenly accumulated in your mouth.

“Are you going to talk to him?” Robin queried again.

“I don’t know.”

“What’s the worst that going to happen if you talk to him?”

You turned to look at her, your brows furrowing.

“You’re awfully pushy for someone who told me that they would cut his dick off last week.”

“What can I say? I’m a sucker for a dramatic love confession.”

“Don’t remind me,” you groaned.

“No, but seriously. What’s the worst that’s going to happen if you just acknowledge his existence?”

“I could forgive him.”

“Would that really be so bad?”

You had been asking yourself that same question for the past week and had been unsuccessful in determining an answer. It was so easy to hate him, so easy to just label Eddie Munson as an asshole and call it a day. But that confession at the video store had made things harder now. It made your resolve in your hatred waiver. It made you question everything and then question it again, and that was the most terrifying thing of all.

You didn’t answer Robin’s question as the four of you made your way through stage door and down the hallway towards the green room. Your palms were sweating now, your grip upon the strap of your case so tight that your knuckles had turned white. The thrumming in your ears was deafening now so that whatever conversation was ensuing around you sounded like nothing more than a faint buzz. Your breath ripped itself from your throat with every exhale as if it too were trying to flee the inevitable situation, and with every subsequent inhale it felt like your breathing was becoming shallower and shallower until you thought it likely you might pass out. Maybe it would be better if you did, you thought. Maybe it would mean you could skip straight over the awkwardness that was awaiting you in that green room altogether.

In the end, your worry had been for nothing, for Eddie Munson was not within the green room when you entered.

His band was congregated in the corner, the low hum of their conversation instantly stopping when you entered the room. Gareth continued to stare unsubtly at you as Mike and Jeff offered you a smile. You tried to smile back, but your heart was only just starting to calm itself at the absence of Eddie so that you found yourself quite distracted as you did so.

You thought briefly of the possibility that maybe Eddie simply hadn’t come; that he had pulled out of the competition just like he had said he would do and had left the others to finish the competition without him. But even though the thought only stemmed from the hope that you wouldn’t have to see him—that you wouldn’t have to face him—you were perfectly well aware that the thought was completely ludicrous. You were quite certain that Eddie Munson would sooner drop dead than ever miss a performance, and the sight of his guitar leaning against the wall and his van still parked in the carpark outside dispelled the notion anyway.

“I’m just gonna head to the bathroom,” you said as you put down your guitar case.

“Ew, are you sure?” Robin said. 

The bathrooms at the venue were quite possibly one of the most disgusting and unsanitary places in the whole of Indiana. They were unisex and so contained a set of urinals that looked as if they hadn’t been cleaned in a decade. The smell of the room was concerningly putrid, only worsened by the fact that the only window within the space was firmly stuck shut. A truly remarkable amount of graffiti was tattooed upon every wall, a few markings having somehow found their way onto the roof as well. 

“You gotta go when you gotta go,” you tried to say nonchalantly.

In truth, you really just needed to leave. Gareth and Jeff had been whispering between each other for the entirety of your stay within the room, continuing to glance periodically over to you so that it was made abundantly clear that they were talking about you. Then there was Mike, who had also been staring completely unsubtly right at you with a remarkable amount of pity compacted behind his gaze.

You breathed out a sigh of relief once you had escaped the room, revelling in the silence of the hallway as you walked. Your heartrate was finally beginning to slow now, the thundering in your ears lessening so that by the time you reached the bathroom you were only plagued with your regular performance nerves.

You pushed the door open absentmindedly, cringing slightly at the sheer stickiness that your fingers were met with before you found yourself stifling a scream. For as you pushed the door open somebody had been about to open it on the other side so that a loud bang resounded throughout the space as the door collided with their head. You jumped backwards, listening as a groan of pain erupted from the bathroom before you gently pushed the door open once more.

“I am so sorry, I-” you paused at the sight of Eddie Munson standing before you, one hand cradling his head. He stilled when he saw you, his pain suddenly forgotten.

“Sorry,” Eddie apologised, although for what you weren’t quite sure. An awkward silence lingered between you now, neither of you quite knowing what to say. The thundering of your heart returned all at once, so renewed it its passions that you thought maybe you would pass out after all. You thought briefly of fainting right into Eddie’s open arms, and whilst the thought was not wholeheartedly repulsive, you shook your head to dispel of the idea nonetheless.

The silence stretched on, and after a moment or two a small sigh was leaving Eddie’s lips—so soft that you almost missed it—his eyes turning to the floor. He stepped to the side, allowing you to pass and giving you a wide berth to do so.

“I’ll...um...I’ll leave you be,” he said, and the disappointment in his voice made something crack in your heart. You stepped further into the room, and as you did so Eddie immediately outstretched his hand to keep the door propped open and leave.  

“You’ve got something on your face...by the way.” The sound of your voice reverberating around the room surprised you, the desperation laced behind it even more so.. Eddie did have something on his face—a black mark that had likely been left from his run-in with the door—but a moment ago you had been completely content with your decision to allow Eddie to leave without telling him about it.

Eddie walked back into the room and headed instantly towards the sinks where he examined his face in the mirror. His eyes went wide at the black mark, his hands immediately coming up to wipe at the substance.

“Ew, what the fuck is on that door?”

Now, suddenly, you found yourself stifling a laugh as Eddie continued to rub furiously at the black mark and as the black mark only continued to spread. And although you managed to swallow the laugh before it escaped from your throat, the smile that accompanied it was not so easily stopped. Eddie’s eyes met yours in the reflection of the mirror, the corner of his lips quirking upwards ever so slightly.

“You find this funny, do you?” he teased.

“Immensely,” you responded, unable to stop it as your smile grew wider.

“It’s not my fault I was assaulted by a bathroom door,” Eddie said.

“You were standing right behind it.”

“Well how much force do you think you need to open a door? I swear I’m concussed or something now.”

There was another laugh now and this time it managed to escape your lips. You stilled at the sound of it. This was too easy, falling back into how things had been, and it scared you. Eddie noticed your change in demeanour, the smile dropping from his features. He turned back to himself in the mirror and continued rubbing at the black mark until he had successfully managed to spread it across half of his forehead.

Before you had even made the decision to do so, you found yourself walking into one of the stalls and ripping off a line of toilet paper, bringing it to the sink where you wet it slightly. You turned to face Eddie and you found him watching you intently, his gaze oddly hypnotising.

“Here,” you said softly, trying to ignore how rapidly your heart was beating now. You could see the surprise in Eddie’s features as he realised what you were doing, his eyes going slightly wide, his breath stilling altogether. And so the two of you stayed like that for some time, Eddie apparently in shock as your hand remained suspended in the air, you seemingly incapable of moving it upwards any further and yet unwilling to let yourself back away.

There was a stillness to the air as the silence lingered; something that held its breath along with you so that it felt almost as if time had stopped. But the stillness was not as awkward as one might expect. It was comfortable in a way; comfortable like how things used to be between the two of you. And so when you saw the slightest droop in Eddie’s shoulders as he slowly began to relax, it was as if your hand had regained its function to move once more, and the next thing you knew you were connecting the crumpled-up wad of toilet paper to Eddie’s forehead, wiping gently.

The silence only continued to grow as you slowly cleaned away the mess that had become Eddie’s forehead so that you became quite sure within that moment that neither you nor Eddie were breathing. But you were leaning so very close to him now so that you could think of nothing else other than the heat emanating from his skin and the smell of his cologne and the way that you could feel his gaze fixated upon you as you worked. You dared not meet his eyes, unsure what exactly you would see behind them and unwilling to find out. And yet the heat from his stare was so very tantalising as it traversed across your cheeks, over your brow, down to the curve of your jaw and then back up to where it rested upon your lips. It lingered there for some time, and yet still you forced your gaze to remain upon your work until the black mark had finally been cleaned and there was no longer a reason for you to continue to stand in such a close proximity with Eddie.

Yet still, you remained.

Your breathing was ragged, your heart beating so fast that you were quite sure that Eddie must have been able to hear the thrumming of your blood through your veins. Yet he remained just as still as your hand fell away from his forehead, and he made no move back away from you. The heat of his stare was too much now, and you found yourself surrendering in your fight, turning your gaze up to meet Eddie’s. You heard as his breath hitched in his throat as you did so.

A concoction of things met you behind the deep, brown eyes of Eddie Munson.

First, there was the sadness, which you had never quite seen such an abundance of behind Eddie’s eyes and yet which had been haunting you whenever you had met his gaze recently. Now it was still there, but it was almost as if it were more resigned, more subdued, as if Eddie had slowly come to terms with it.

Then there was something that looked like something close to fear; as if Eddie didn’t quite know how this situation was going to end and was scared of the possibilities. It was faint, but it was there nonetheless, almost hidden behind everything else. The sight of it was oddly satisfying.

But then there was something else, so small that you almost missed it. It was a light, a glint, a spark. It was hope. Because now you were standing so very close to Eddie that your chests were practically touching, so close in a way that you had not been since you had leaned down and brushed your lips against Eddie’s cheek at the Hideout. It was electrifying being back in such close proximity to him again, so much so that you could feel your skin yearning to touch his, could feel your lips tingling as if they were remembering how they had felt after that wonderful kiss in his trailer.

It would be so very easy to forgive him; to close what small distance still remained between you and claim what your body desired. But that hope behind his eyes was a frightening thing, for you realised that the same spark that lingered behind his gaze was likely mirrored within your own.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie suddenly whispered into the air between you.

“I know,” you found yourself whispering back.

“Oh thank god.” Eddie breathed a sigh of relief and you furrowed your brows at it. At the sight of your confusion, Eddie hastened to elaborated. “I-I just mean that...well...I thought that you were behind the desk at Family Video but I wasn’t sure so there was a chance that I was just saying all...” Eddie paused and swallowed, and for a moment you became distracted by the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. “All that to thin air.”

You remembered his speech so clearly; the way he had poured his heart out to the empty space behind the counter, the way his voice had cracked slightly when he had uttered those three words to you and the way you had been so fearful to stand and face him, to see whatever pain you knew would be plastered across his features. You thought of those three words, those three simple words and the sheer weight that had been behind them when Eddie had said them. There had been a part of you that had wanted to not believe him, that had wanted to dispel those three words as just another lie. But the thought itself had been preposterous the moment it had ran through your mind.  

You thought for just a moment that if Eddie had uttered those words under different circumstances—if he had said them after another date or after another kiss—whether you might have considered the possibility of saying them back, and your inability to produce an answer was the scariest thing of all.

Suddenly, Eddie’s proximity to you seemed to register all at once—the way his skin was practically touching yours, the way your breaths were intermingling with each other—and you pulled away so quickly it looked almost as if you had been burned. But Eddie did not flinch as you left his side, did not even blink, almost as if he had been expecting it.

“Sorry,” he said. “I-ugh...I can leave if you want. O-or if you want to leave I can stay here for a bit.” Eddie walked forward, making as if to go, but stopped halfway to the door and turned back to face you. “You don’t...this doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to. I know we ran into each other by coincidence, so I understand if you still don’t want to-”

Eddie’s gaze was turned down towards the floor as if he could not quite face you whilst he uttered the words. There was something in the way he held himself now—the stoop in his posture, the timidity in his gaze, the sheer uncertainty in his being—that had you wanting to reach out and touch him. And although the thought had only been fleeting, suddenly you found your hand outstretching towards Eddie seemingly of its own volition. You panicked as you watched it near him, your heart thundering so loudly in your chest you were sure Eddie would be able to hear it. But his back was to you now, unable to see your hand’s approach until your pinky finger was tentatively wrapping around his.

Your breathed hitched in your throat just as Eddie’s posture stiffened, the two of you remaining motionless within the room as the silence seemed to encompass you. The stillness seemed never-ending; the tension so palpable that if one were to run a knife through the air they would likely feel the resistance of it. And yet you did not pull away. Because although it was only a singular finger that was touching him, although the silence that lingered between you seemed almost as if it might stretch on forever, the featherlight touch brought all of it back. You remembered first seeing Eddie in the crowd of your show looking remarkably out of place and yet completely at home all at once. You remembered the strangled cry that had left your lips at his unexpected presence during your shift, and then your subsequent flood of embarrassment when you realised he had caught you singing. You remembered the theft of your keys, seeing Eddie play for the first time, talking with him over milkshakes. You remembered how caring he had been when he had driven you home after Robin’s party, how he had held you against his chest and rushed you out of the diner to stop you from paying, how delicately he had held you in the silence of his bedroom.

You realised in that moment that you could not let Eddie leave the bathroom without speaking with him. You could not let him leave operating under the assumption that you never wanted to speak with him again. Because although the thought was tempting, although you had seriously considered just avoiding him for the rest of your life and hoping that your feelings would go away with him, the singular touch of his finger against yours made you reconsider. It made you remember all of the times that he had made you smile and all of the times he made you laugh.

You remembered how happy Eddie Munson made you.

And then your mind turned to all of the things Eddie had said, to all of the beautiful and tempting words he had laid out bare before you when the two of you had been yelling at each other in the carpark of the competition’s venue. There were the words he had uttered down towards you at Family Video, the words that had had your heart both wrenching in pain and soaring in happiness. The boy from the basketball team had said nothing of the sort after he had stood you up. Tommy H had not even once acknowledged your presence after the embarrassment he had caused you.

So as you looked up at him and as Eddie’s gaze remained resolutely upon the floor, you could not quite help the small flutter of your heart as you stepped closer towards him. You could hear as his breath hitched in his throat, saw as his eyes tentatively made their way up to yours.

“Just-” you began, trying to collate the racing of your thoughts into something at least partly understandable. “I just…”

But now Eddie’s eyes were boring into your own, and you found yourself getting lost within them. They were just as big and round and brown as you had always known them to be, but mostly, they were just as comforting, and you felt the racing of your heart slow just slightly. His finger gripped yours more tightly, and the action had your heart fluttering anew. You were close now, closer than you had been in a very long time and yet you did not step away.

As you continued to stare up at Eddie you saw nothing but the depth of his eyes. Within that depth you found the small spark of hope that still lingered there, maybe burning a little bit brighter now. And although the sight of it still scared you, you could not quite bring yourself to extinguish it.

“I just need some time,” you finally said. “To think.”

Eddie let out a sigh, but whether it was of relief or defeat you could not quite tell. He closed his eyes for just a moment, and you could not quite help the rise of disappointment that flooded through you. He would not wait, you realised. He would not wait whilst you tried to figure out whether things could still work, and the thought made you regret ever lingering within the bathroom with him in the first place.

But then Eddie’s finger was leaving yours as his hand engulfed your own. The touch was unexpected, and the feeling of the weight of his palm pressing into yours—the feeling of the familiarity of his touch—had you wanting to pull away. But you did not. Because when Eddie reopened his eyes there was something else behind them now; a flame that had not been there before.

“I will give you anything that you need.”

You knew that he would; the flame behind his eyes—only growing in intensity the more he looked upon you—confirmed it. And it was for that very reason that you could not stay within the bathroom any longer, for your gaze had momentarily flicked down to Eddie’s lips, the sight of them so close and so full and so tempting before you. It would be too easy to lean just slightly upwards and connect your lips to his, and the sheer desire that you felt to do so was a dangerous thing.

But before you left you found your hand—the one that was not currently being held tightly within the confines of Eddie’s palm—reaching upwards. Your palm cupped Eddie’s cheek gently, and it was clear that the tender action surprised him just as much as it did you, for his breath hitched in his throat once more. But a moment later he relaxed, and soon you found him closing his eyes and leaning into your touch.

“Thank you,” you whispered, and with a strength you did not know you could muster, you pulled yourself away from Eddie and left.

Eddie did not follow for quite some time.

---

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[kanene-yaaay]

Pspsps, come here

Kanene’s Notes: I wrote clever gremlin Sun and Moon with Sun being an overly excited puppy and Moon a teasy bastard and I regret  n o t h i n g. You can pry this happy and soft scenario from my dead cold hands.

Warnings: This is a tickle fanfic with Reader Insert with Neutral Gender Reader (they/them) and Lee!Reader with Ler!Sun & Ler!Moon. Moon and Sun are separated animatronics and are not brothers here. Can be viewed as romantic or platonic. You all live together. Around 5.000 words. It has nicknames, playful teasing, raspberries, fluff, cuteness and they trying to convince the reader to go sleep.

[~*~]

"No." 

You squinted your eyes at the animatronic perched on the top of your fridge, faceplate spinning for a second before his smirk grew wider, his hand making a 'move closer' gesture in your direction. 

“Not a chance.” You repeated slowly, savoring the words as you crossed your arms and defiantly retreated farther on the illuminated living room, very aware that  the animatronic wouldn't try to follow you with his aversion for artificial lights. 

(You wondered if his eyes, for being overly adjusted to see and move perfectly in the dark held some kind of sensitivity for lightness in general. You both should look into that later. It definitely wasn't comfortable to irritatedly hiss at lamps every time you made a move to flick the switch.) 

"Pspspspsps." His raspy voice glitched in an amused manner, drops of snickers falling from his mouth together with this truly compelling argument, totally underrated by your frown and impressive glare. Red eyes glinted stronger with mischief. "Come on, Moonlight, why don't you move closer? ~" 

You showed him your middle finger. Louder crackled chuckles filled the air.

"Naughty, so naughty. That kind of language is forbidden in the daycare." Moon's head bobbed from a side to another, clearly more than amused at your current predicament. For a moment the mental image of a cat flicking its tail twinkled on your mind. 

"This is not the daycare. This is my house and I am an adult who is allowed to go to bed as late as I want." You did not highlight the last part with a pout. Shush. You can’t prove anything.

"Of course, of course." For some reason, he agreeing with you brought a bigger sense of dread than anything else. Although there wasn't much time to think about it when the six feet tall animatronic in all its metallic glory jumped from his high hiding spot and consequently made your heart stop for a hot second, fearing for the integrity of your floor tiles. However, with an exaggerated flourish and a way too much smug click of joints, he laid on the ground with a surprisingly soft thump.

"But," his voice dragged you from your own mind. Your thoughts were really distracting today... 

Probably a consequence of your latest restless nights but you were just not about to admit it. This was now a battle of principles. 

"But," Moon repeated, his gaze much more piercing than before. You wondered if he was discreetly checking your vitals again. "A certain human agreed to let us help if they diverted far, way too far, from their usual sleep schedule. Using any, any, any means necessary." You gulped. Damn, Past You, how could you betray Present You so easily? "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you, starlight?" 

"I have no idea what you're talking about." 

"No? Ohoho. Maybe we can refresh your memory." His smile grew. The hair on the nape of your neck standed, a shiver running down your spine as your instincts realized there was something strange in your surroundings just too late.

A shadow hoovered nearby.

"Right, Sunny?" 

Strong arms hugged you from behind. "Righty, right! Of course! You see, sunlight, moonshine, our light! Each one of the daycare attendants are equipped with a voice recorder to guarantee the safety and security of your children with the highly specialized tech developed by the Piz-” Gradually, Sun’s voice gained a more neutral tone as he recited the programmed speech inserted on his code. In the middle of his sentence a buzzing sound cut his speech and you felt him shaking his head, very much likely pushing the warning embriebed on his programing away. It didn’t take long before his usual upbeat voice appeared again. “Yes, yes, yes! Lots of adults would stop getting in trouble when we told them that. Lots and lots. hehehe”

Feet dangling centimeters away from the ground (why did they have to be so tall?), you tried to loosen his hold in vain, squirming as a halfhearted groan mixed with your protests. “Sundrop, wait. Babe, you can’t just betray me like that!”

“Sorry, sunflower,” came his reply devoid of a single drop of regret. He lowered his faceplate right in front of you, smiling in an equally apologetic and amused manner. A roll of rays (which were much more unimpressed and entertained than an energetic excited spin and not to be confused with the angry rotation of rays) made a soft breeze hit your face as you ironically repeated his words under the breath. A light pinch on your side made it all stop. “But we promised to help. And you know how I hate to break my promises... or to see you exhausted any longer.”

A warm feeling blossomed immediately on your chest at his sweet, kind words, knowing very well how much care those held. To be honest, your heart kind of melted a bit. However, months of sharing a house with the celestial animatronics taught a thing or two about that playful shine on the robotic lens and their ability to use their cuteness for pure evil.  

You managed to free one of your arms to point at him accusingly.

“You don’t dare to be sweet with me right now, mister.” His puppy eyes seemed to only get bigger and more pleading, arms cradling your body closer to the soft chest. You refused to crumble under such a clear adorable attack. “I know very well you’re just trying to distract me while Moon dim the lights, Sun.”

With a startled yelp, the night themed one almost let go of the broom he was using to poke at the switch and set it on a darker mode, his features not even a tad ashamed as your accusing gaze clued on him. 

“D e m o n.” You fingerspelled at him.

“Guilty as charged.” His own precise signaling was quick to follow, his sentence tauntly ending with a wave - fingers wiggling in your direction - at the same time Sun spun and turned your body to face him, a hand dramatically clutching at his chest as if he had taken a shot. 

“Your doubts of our love wound me, firefly! Oh, oh, oh the pain! The distrust! The unfairness of your mean, mean, mean words is breaking me apart!”

A huffed chuckle escaped from your lips. Sun let go of his drama to beam excitedly, his rays spinning and popping in and out on his faceplate. He knew your weakness for them being precious. Damn.

Time to pull out the big guns.

“Sun. If you let me go I will buy you that whole collection of glittery crafts that you’ve been wanting forever.”

He gasped, the previous ‘attack at his love’ already totally forgiven and forgotten. “The non toxic ones with all the colors of the rainbow that shine in the dark and are free for all the children above five years old, perfect for cards, sashes, schoolwork and playtime with guaranteed fun for the little ones and the whole family?”

A sense of triumph took over your senses with how energetic and cheerful the animatronic got at your bribe, almost stumbling on the memorized advertisement as his words grew faster and his limbs began to shake with joy. 

Yes. Yes.

“Exactly! Now, to have it all you need to do is just let me go right now.”

Sun freezes, the arms holding you going rigid. “L-let you go?”

“Yes!” You basically shouted to drown the protesting ‘Sun!’ Moon grunted somewhere in the kitchen. “You do something nice for me and I do something for you!” The lights dimmed a little. Uh oh, you needed to be quick. “Like a gift exchange between friends!”

Sun began to throw his weight from one foot to another with a considering gaze. “...We are friends. Very good best friends…”

“We are. And soon enough you will be the first animatronic with all the rainbow glittery collections in the whooole planet.”

Sun’s eyes flickered to something behind your back, leading you to quickly hold his faceplate and gently pull it to focus on your current conversation. “Sun.” For the serious tune, one could think you were discussing how to save the world from an uncontrollable and imprevisible danger. “Non toxic colored glitter.”

The day themed robot made a sound in the back of his throat (music box? Animatronic Anatomy could be a confusing thing) that could very much be described as a whine, his grip getting a bit loose. You tried again, more vehemently. “Shiny, colored glitter. All of this only for you to enjoy and use as you please.” Moon was being suspiciously quiet back there. Strange. Better be sure he wasn’t planning anything. “You can even go and prank Moon for as much as you want.”

A growl flew into the room and the lights dimmed more. Oops. Perhaps teasing him was not the greatest idea. Best to focus on the matter in your hands. Well, the animatronic in your hands, actually.

“I-” Sun started, voice suddenly uncertain, eyes flickering around anxiously. Your fingers carefully traced the details on his cheeks in a reassuring manner as he began to grow too nervous. 

“Just some joking around between friends.” You assured him in sign language, not wanting to vocalize your  words and call too much attention to it. “No need to get worked up over it.” After the last wobbly sign your hands went back to rest on his faceplate, caressing his cheeks. He melted with the touch, staring at you before nodding with resolution. 

A smile painted your features. Freedom at least!

“I  Refuse! R-E-F-U-S-E! Refuse!”

“What!”

He snickered, bouncing a couple of times in the same place, his smile so big that his eyes squinted at you. Finally, the lights got just dark enough for Moon to enter the room, his own raspy chuckles creating a mix that made your nerves tingle with anticipation.

“One day you will stop falling for his theatrics, little star.”

“Wait,” the words pried your attention from your attempts to kick the night themed animatronic without seeing his position to his counterpart. “Wait, wait. Sun, what is he talking about?” The snickers from the one with yellow clothes got stronger, you gasped as the pieces connected in your brain and the realization finally dawned on you. 

“You were only pretending, weren’t you, your gremlin! You didn’t even consider my offer in the first place.” For all his drama and exaggerated gestures, sometimes you actually forgot how good Sun was at lying.

“I just couldn’t help it!” You huffed, more out of a show than being truly pissed. “I am sorry, daylight. It’s just that between a bunch of glitter and your health, there isn’t really a choice to be made in the first place.”

Oh.

Okay. All the irritation that wasn’t even strong in the first place evaporated in less than a blink. Now, all of that sweetness wasn’t fair. 

Before you could do something like get emotional (maybe you should consider going to sleep) over his sentence, Moon saved the day by doing gagging noises behind Sun and making the aforementioned try to swat him away, both being caught in a temporary game of cat and mouse before your squirming form grabbed their attention again.

“Let. Me. Go!”

“Oh, that reminds me.” The night themed robot crouched on the floor moving closer to Sun and doing that spider position he did when a particularly fun thought filled his mind. Also because he could. Damn robot flexibility and their flexible robotic joints. 

You tried to kick (affectionate) him again. Because you could. He dodged with little effort, squeezing your calf when another attempt was made.

“Sssundrop,” His voice rasped in a specific way reserved only for his counterpart’s name. He began to climb him as the words spilled from his musicbox (voice box? How does animatronics work again?). “I think our friend here is a bit forgetful today. What if we remind them about our promise, huh, huh?”

By the end of the sentence, he was perched on Sun’s shoulders, who reflected at him the playfulness with joy before both focused their equally teasing shining eyes in your direction.

“I think that is a good idea, Moondrop!”

And then, in the next piece of time, the record was flying in the air. 

It glitched as static filled the space, the sound gradually getting slower and clearer as Moon’s low, smug voice was caught middle-sentence. 

“Can we do anything?” 

“-To help, of course!” Sun pipped in, his mischievousness much better hidden.

It took a while before your own voice got into the conversation. You remember being too occupied trying to get the new recipe right when that topic arose. “I mean, as long as it isn’t illegal or something like that...” Thoughtful pause, more hushed words following in wariness. “Except for that candy of yours, I am definitely not eating that!”

“We are not giving you our candy, silly. Those are for the kids!”

“And somehow that is even worse.” You grumbled.

“Moonlight, the fish.” A curse, more sounds of pans and metallic spoons. In the next moment, Moon’s voice seemed cautious. “Are you sure you’re okay with that? Last time…”

He didn’t complete his thought. You grimaced at the reminder of the first month of you three living together, when the consequences of the virus were still stronger than ever and the remnant instincts of it still permeated their programming. It really took some time and stumbles for everyone involved before some sense of trust and clear boundaries were established.

“Things are different now.” Your tune was firm, but not unkind. “Also, we know each other better this time. I trust you guys.”

“Sunflower!” A squeal of delight. Outside the recording, Sun’s arms hugged you a bit more and Moon’s gaze got much softer. “We promise we will do our best! Right, Moon-Moon?”

“... Yeah.” His voice was filled with emotion. A kind of emotion that was quickly pushed down to give space to a more devilish tune. “So, so, so… Anything?”

“Yeah, sure, do whatever.”

The recording was over, the night themed robot smiled at you, clearly pleased. “Can you please rewind that last part for us, Sssun?”

Your groan was drowned by Sun’s giggles, who was bouncing on the same spot as if this was the best moment of his life. “I indeed can, Moony.”

“Not my name.”

“It’s a nickname, which is even better!” Sun replied with an air of finality.

“Yeah, Moonie-Moon,” You also took your chance to poke fun at the other, because as it seems you no longer wanted to be alive. “It’s just a nickname. No need to be so grumpy about it.”

Before he had the chance to reply to your jab, your recorded voice made itself present once more. Sun happily ignored the stinky eye sent in his direction, instead resting his face plate on your head with a joyful whirl of his fans.

“Yeah. sure. Do whatever.”

“Yeah. sure. Do whatever.”

“Yeah. sure. Do whatever.”

“I think that is enou-”

“I can even make a mixed version of it, do you wanna see it?”

“Don’t you dare-”

Suddenly an upbeat music rang around the room as repetitions of “yeah, yeah, do whatever, sure yeah, do whatever, do whatever” followed the rhythm, strongly contrasting with the dead expression present on your features. 

Moon crackled and wheezed.

“Don’t you just love technology?”

“I am kicking both of you out of here. The nerve.” But you sighed, closing your eyes and resting on the comfortable chest, eventually feeling the tiredness taking over your body and crawling on your bones. “Okay, okay. You win.”

“So you’re going to sleep?” The one wearing a nightcap squinted his red eyes in your direction with suspicion. 

“Wish it was that easy, my man. Body is tired, my mind doesn’t just shut up, though.” You wondered if that was a familiar concept for them. Not being able to turn off their functions at their own will. Laying on the darkness through the hours they were supposed to recharge, wondering what happens next.

Ick. Complex thoughts.

“Well,” Sun walked his way to the couch, sitting on it with you still laying on him. No, but for real, how were they so soft? Metal and wires weren’t supposed to feel that comfortable and warm, right? “Then all we have to do is to find something to distract your mind for a bit! Distractions, distractions, for you. For us. For fun and games and you.”

“Distractions which will tire you more and more until all you will need to do is just close your eyes and then… Nighty night.~”

You opened one eye to stare at him. “That was supposed to be cute. How do you make that sound like a threat?”

“Never said it wasn’t one.”

“Sun, get my spray bottle. Moonie-Moon is being naughty naught again.”

The chest under you shook with laughter at the same time the light in Moon’s lens got sharper. 

“We could play tag.” He basically purred.

“We could throw you out the window..”

“Aw. So kind and nice. I will give you a ten seconds headstart.”

You showed him your tongue. He pinched your cheek in retaliation. Your hand held his nightcap and began pulling. His other hand went to your other cheek, his grip getting firmer.

“Kids, stop, stop!” Sun bapped you both with a huff, pulling the two away from each other with little effort, but not before Moon flicked your forehead. “Hands off. Hands off, off, off!”

Protecting your face, you dislodged the hat from the other animatronic before letting yourself to be pulled and the quick roughhousing to end.

Sun rolled his rays, his fingers digging a bit on your side when you squirmed, fishing a yelp as the sudden ticklish feeling shot through your system. 

“We should play Hide and Seek then!”

But you didn’t answer, looking at the day themed robot with wide eyes, a hint of a wobbly smile on your face and your side still tingling. Was this a trap? Did he not realize what he did a few seconds ago or was he trying to make you low your guards for a surprise attack?  

Everything went quiet for a second, butterflies fluttering their wings in your stomach when his big white eyes focused on yours, confused. “You… have another idea, sunflower?”

Oh.

Your muscles relaxed, a tad of sadness laying on your chest.

It had been an accident. Of course, there was no way they would-

“Actually, I have an idea.” A low chuckling filled the air. Your head turned around so fast it almost gave you a whiplash. Red eyes stared at your soul knowingly, hands slowly raising, fingers starting to wiggle. “My Ssssundrop, don’t let them run.”

Sun’s excited gasp didn’t help the crazy freaking out of the excited butterflies on your stomach, his hug trapping you closer. “What a DELIGHTFUL idea, Moonie!” He nuzzled right behind your ear, making you press your lips closer and trapping the titters inside. “Nothing better to tire a gigglebug than some nice tickle-tickle tickles, righty, right? Huh? Right, sunlight?”

You shook your head, a protesting snort escaping your barriers when squirming away from the nuzzling only brought you even closer to the wiggly fingers that moved slowly, horribly slowly towards your torso.

“No? No, what, moonlight? Use your words, we can not read minds.”

You sucked your belly, squirming to the right, trying your hardest to escape the lazy attack that now barely grazed your left, long blue and cold fingertips making your nerves alight with the softest touch. 

A raspberry right on that spot that connected your neck with your shoulders reminded you that Moon wasn’t the only threat right now. One more squeal ran away from your barrier, giggles escaping through the growing cracks.

“I think I know exactly what our dear sunshine is thinking right now, Moonie!” One more raspberry.

“Is that so?” A squeeze on your side. 

“Yep, yep!” A sneaky poke to the space between your shoulderblades. It followed your wiggling, vibrating on the place non stop. “They’re thinking ‘Tickle me! Tickle me!’ over and over again because they are such a cutie-”

“Ticklish.” 

A lonely finger drawing spirals on your ribcage, it seemed to be looking for the weakest spots.

"Squirmy."

A scribble under your chin.

“Helpless.”

A prodding on your highest rib.

 Two voices saying in unison. 

“Gigglebug.”

“Shuhuhuhut up!”

Your barrier broke, hysterical giggling spilling freely from your lips in a melody that immediately filled the entire room. Eyes firmly closed and face in flames, you didn’t even realize how Moon faltered for a second and Sun beamed with joy, both animatronic grinning wider at your reactions. The night themed animatronic was the first to break out of his daze, immediately drumming his fingers on your ribs, being careful to give each one of them a special attention, lingering a tad longer on the most sensitive places before jumping to another one, fishing louder laughter as he went up and down, up and down your ribcage again and again.

“Wait, wait, wait! P-please!” Crackles and squeals danced together with your words, making you need to re-start your sentence a couple of times until it finally sounded at least a bit more coherent. “ThAT is- nononono, not there! Sun!”

“Yes?” The absolute bastard answered innocently, as if you weren't able to feel him inching closer and closer to your lower back, your squirming and kicks doing nothing to deter him. 

“Don’t!”

“I have no idea, no idea! what you’re talking about, my wiggly-wiggley worm!”

“Maybe they want you to give an extra tickle attack to their sides. Did you see their smile when I did that? They loved it.”

“Yeah! They just loooove all those tickle-tickle-tickles and kitty-kitty-coos, don’t they? They dooo. It’s so sweet! You’re right, Moonie. I think they deserve only the bestest, most especial tickle attack riiiight…”

“Do NOT! Don’t you dare or I swear that I will-” Your protest dissolved in belly laughter when, with a triumphantly ‘here!’, Sun decided that this was the perfect moment to dig on your hips, his thumbs massaging the flesh as his other fingers scratched the base of your spine.

“...you will squeal like a squeaky toy?” Moon teased in amused chuckles, stopping his tickling to not make everything too overwhelming. “Tsk, tsk, gigglebug, that is not a good threat at all. Here, let me show you how to really intimidate someone. My Ssssundrop…” He laid his hand on one of the orange sunrays, scribbling there for a second and leading the other robot to yelp and squirm away, his attack interrupted.

“Mean, mean.” The one in yellow and red clothes pouted, rubbing the assaulted ray with a clear pout on his tune. “You know how adorable their laughter is.”

“You’re going to listen to it again in just a second, stop whining.”

“Oh my god.” Your left hand came to your face, trying to hide it as the other attempted to hit Sun and/or Moon. Or none. Whatever. “Shuhut it. Just… Shhhut it. Whehen I get you back, it’s over for you guys.”

Sun gasped, then snickered, rays popping in and out of his head.

“Sunbeam! You shouldn’t have said that…”

It was late, your eyelids were beginning to grow heavy and for the first time in… honestly weeks your head was truly empty. Maybe too much empty since no braincell stopped you to stare deep into those red eyes and let the smug words slip from the tip of your tongue.

“Why? It’s the truth.”

“Ah,” Moon spun his head, slowly, pleased. “So you dare to threaten the tickle monsters.”

His hands rested peacefully on your knees, smirk growing wide at the resulting twitch that this caused. You tried to pull your leg closer, but his hold didn’t budge. Finally a siren in your brain screamed ‘Danger!’. 

Chill ran across your spine.

“Uh, actually, about that-”

“No, no.” He purred. Your wide eyes ran to Sun, who just smiled unhelpfully. “That threat was good, don’t take it back. However…I have a better one.”

With a quick move his hand secured your ankle, fingers slipping to tap softly on the awfully, unfairly, ticklish skin underneath the knee. 

“Do you want to hear it?”

Shaking your head, smiling wide, you scrambled to pull his hands away from the spot but Sun was even more quick to hug them to your side, laying a smooch on your hair at your anticipatory titters.

Playful, raspy chuckles ran across the room.

“Back to your lesson, then. First, you chose a spot to attack. I think I will be focusing on that very sssensitive place right here.” He poked the ticklish skin to highlight his words. 

“Second, you choose how to attack. In this step it is important to be sure to let the wiggly-worm know what will come for them if they don’t agree to your terms.” He watched you as he pronounced those words before changing his attention to Sun. “What do you think, Sssundrop? The claw or raspberries?”

“Ohohoho!! The claw with the long nails or the raspberries and their tickly-sparks?” More excited beaming, Sun seemed about to wiggle out of the couch with all the excitement and energy running on him. “Such a tough, very tough question! Hmm, if you use the claws you will get the most adorably adorable crackles, but! But! But! Aw, they just looove the raspberries so much! Yep, yep, they do. Oho! I’ve made my choice! The raspberries! All the best raspberries just for the best gigglebug in the world forever and ever and ever!~”

 “Awesome choice.” He began lowering his head and that was the last thing you saw before being turned around to face the day themed animatronic, a curse flying from your lips at the sudden movement. “So, Moonlight, are you going to sleep?”

“Wait, wait! This is literahahally so unfair! You’re all lo-losing your gittler and cuddle privileges.” Maybe they would find the words more intimidating if it wasn’t for the lovely way they floated together with snickers and came out muffled as you hid your hot face on Sun’s soft chest.

“So that is a no.” The robot wearing blue tsked. “Aw, such a pity.” 

For a second, there was peace. There was silence. There was hope.

And then he went for his attack.

Rich laughter and snorts danced across the entire living room as the buzzing sensation seemed to explode all across your body, tiny electric sparkles sending tingles across your nerves as raspberry after raspberry was placed on every single ticklish inch of skin. It was only placed underneath your knees, but, with your eyes closed, you could swear you felt the awesome, unbearable sensation hitting every single other tickle spot on your body.

Half minute went by before your resolve broke.

“I AM! I AM GOING SLEEP!”

Immediately the sensation was gone, replaced by cold hands rubbing the remaining feeling away, giggles and giggles dancing in the air, a smile so big plastered in your features that it almost reflected the gigantic grins on the animatronics face. You jolted when fingers rested on your shoulders, but Sun just softly nuzzled your hair before beginning to massage the muscles with care, sometimes giving you just the tiniest scratches just to keep a couple of titters floating here and there.

A humming sound researched your ears. It was soothing, matching perfectly with the calmness that now seemed to lay like a blanket over you. Comfortable. Nice. Sweet. 

You opened your eyes when a hand shook lightly your arm. A couple and some more of blinks and the red spots in front of you finally began to look less like a blur and more like eyes staring at your form.

Your gaze ran around the place. You were in your room. It was still dark outside.

“Here, drink it.” Your fingers closed around a cup of water before you hummed in agreement, realizing only now how dry your throat was. Moon took the cup away when it was empty, walking away. He did stop at your protesting noise, turning only his head back in a confused tilt, as some kind of metal owl.

Slowly, you lifted one hand.

“Pspspsps. Come closer.”

He snorted, muffling his guffaws and finally deciding to sit on the ground next to your bed.

It was only because of the silence that you realized that there was the sound of fans behind you. Funny how this was the clue you needed to notice the animatronic pressing comfortably on your back and not the gigantic hand draped across your torso.

“Sleep. I’ll keep a watch.”

“No need.” You protested, throat still itching a bit. Maybe it would be a good idea to have some tea and honey tomorrow. “We’re safe here.”

“I know. I like to, though.”

You hummed. It made sense. 

“Sleep later?” 

“Sleep later.” He compromised.

“Good.” A yawn interrupted your sentence and you could already feel your consciousness slipping away. “Be late and you’re really losing cuddling privileges.”

There was a raspy chuckle. And then a soft, warm darkness.

#I wanted to put a bit more of Sun in this but he is haaaard to write asdfhjdfghj #Also very fun tho. Luv mah sunny boi <33 #Soft gremlin Moon! Soft gremlin Moon! Soft- *chanting* #Ticklish!Reader #Lee!Reader #Ler!Moon #Ler!Sun #Ler!Moondrop #Ler!Sundrop #Raspberries #Teasy Nicknames #I will give you Reader and Moon randomly beginning to wrestling as a treat #Sun is SWEET and a GREMLIN too #Can be platonic or Romantic #Nope Sun and Moon arent't brothers here #Alternative Universe #Let's all pretend the animatronic can make expressions and stuff #I adore to write Sun's dialogues because I feel like playing with the words and pronunciations which is *nice* #Kanene's fic #Kanene's fanfic #x Reader #fnaf sb tickles #fnaf sb tickling

[tayrcse]

002

✎ summary: (Y/N) Creel, the younger sister of Henry Creel, is a former subject and current orderly of Hawkins Lab. Having been spared by her brother in both massacres, she and Eleven escape the lab together after Eleven opens the mother gate. Amidst the confusion, they’re separated from each other, and (Y/N) finds herself seeking shelter in the home of one Steve Harrington.

✎ warnings: stealing

✎ characters: Steve Harrington, Eleven, Barbara Holland

✎ author’s note: I’m hoping to make this a multi-part series, but I’m not sure if anyone will read it lol. (Y/N) is supposed to have the same powers as El and One and be the same age as Steve. I’m trying to follow the plot of the show as closely as possible, but I will have to change some stuff in order to add the reader in. Steve will be a love interest later on in the series.

✎ word count: 1,172

series masterlist

November 7, 1983

“Eleven?!” You yell, spinning in circles trying to spot her. The rain is falling in your eyes and you can’t see anything. “Eleven!” You try again. No response. You close your eyes, trying in vain to locate her in your mind. “Damn it,” you mutter to yourself. ‘Eleven’s smart,’ you think. ‘She’ll be okay.’

Continuing through the woods, you eventually make your way to a small town. The town was quiet. You didn’t know what time it was, but it seemed as if all the shops were closed. ‘I need to get out of these clothes,’ you think. Choosing a store, you use your powers to unlock the door and go inside, locking it again behind you.

You wonder through the store, looking for something to change into. You settle on a long sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans. You admire yourself in the mirror. You haven’t worn normal clothes in years. Running a hand through your wet hair, you ponder your situation. You didn’t have a plan when you escaped the lab. All you knew was that you had to get out. Now, you’re wondering if it had been a good idea.

With the adrenaline wearing off, you notice how tired you are and decide to try to get some sleep. You just had to make sure to get up before the sun rose tomorrow.

November 8, 1983

You startle awake early the next day when you hear the sounds of cars zooming by. You hastily get up. You realize that it had stopped raining and you’re thankful for the clear day ahead. Now, you just had to figure out what to do.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the cash register. Silently apologizing, you take out $100 and leave the store.

Now, you’re sitting in an open diner eating pancakes. “Shouldn’t you be in school, young lady?” The waitress asks you as she stops by to refill your water. You just shrug and mumble a half-hearted excuse. After paying for your meal, you leave the diner. ‘Now what do I do?’ You think, sighing.

You spend the day wondering around town, getting a feel for where you are. It isn’t until the sun starts to set that you realize you really need a plan.

The sun had long since gone when you stumbled upon a house, guided there by what sounded like screaming. Peering from your cover in the woods, you see a group of teenagers playing in a pool. You aren’t sure what to do. You’re tired from walking all day, but you don’t know these people. How were you supposed to just go up to them and ask for help. You wait so long that, eventually, the group of teenagers all head inside. All except one. The remaining girl sits at the edge of the pool, fiddling with her hands. Watching the girl, you feel a sense of dread.

You look away for a moment, scanning your surroundings. When you look back, the girl is gone. You’re not able to process what just happened when you hear a voice. “Barb?” A girl asks, coming out of the house. The girl looks around, searching for her friend before giving up and walking away from the house. A few minutes later, you watch as a boy and another girl leave the house, giggling and clutching onto each other.

Without much of a choice, you decide to leave your spot in the woods and head to the front of the house. Taking a deep breath, you ring the doorbell. And you wait.

It isn’t long before the door swings open, revealing a tired-looking boy. “Hello?” The boy asks with a yawn. Before you have the chance to say anything, the boy continues by saying, “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“I’m sorry, I— never mind,” you say, nerves taking over.

Seemingly noticing your distress, the boy asks, “Woah, are you okay?” You’re not sure what happened, but it’s like the dam inside you broke, and all of a sudden you’re sobbing, and he’s pulling you into his house. He leads you over to his couch and sits you down. “Are you in trouble?” He asks. You nod. “Did you, like, run away from home?” You hesitate before nodding again. “Okay, I’m calling the cops,” he declares. Suddenly, he’s getting up, and you’re panicking. He’s reaching for the phone when it flies off the wall, landing hard on the floor.

“No cops,” you say, standing up from the couch and wiping away the blood that trickled from your nostril. The boy stares at you, a mixture of surprise and fear painting his features. He glances at the phone on the floor before conceding.

“Okay, no cops,” he nods. After a pause, he asks, pointing at the phone, “Did you— did you do that?” You just shrug. “Okay, well, um, what’s your name?” He stammers.

“(Y/N),” you reply absentmindedly, looking around at his house.

“Cool, cool. I’m Steve. Steve Harrington,” he introduces. You turn around to look at him.

“Steve,” you repeat thoughtfully. “Thank you, Steve.” You shoot him a small smile before turning your back to him again and admiring the pictures adorning the walls.

“Yeah, uh, do you need anything?” Steve asks, shuffling his feet.

“Water?” You request.

Steve nods before walking away. He comes back a few minutes later with a glass of water in his hands. You’re reaching for the water when he says, “2?” You freeze, hand barely touching the glass. You look down and notice that your sleeve had ridden up your arm, exposing your number tattoo. You quickly pull your sleeve back down and grab the water. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—,” Steve starts to apologize.

“It’s fine,” you snap, cutting him off. Steve just nods again.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on here, but you can stay here tonight if you want. My parents aren’t home, and you can stay in the guest room,” Steve offers. You nod. He motions for you to follow him as he leads you up the stairs. You follow him to a sparsely decorated room where he stops. “This is it,” he says, raising his arms to motion to the room. “Extra toothbrushes are under the sink in the bathroom, and toothpaste is on the shelf. Make yourself at home, I guess.” He says before taking a step to leave the room.

“Steve?” You say, stopping him. He turns back around to face you. “Thank you. For everything.”

A small smile forms on his face as he says, “Goodnight, (Y/N).” He leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.

Finding some extra clothes in the closet, you brush your teeth and take a shower. When you’re done, you lie down on the soft mattress and wait for sleep to take you. You’ve been lucky so far, you think, but you were sure your luck was about to run out. What will you do when it does?

#stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #tayrcse