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ghosttotheparty · 1 year

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stars and sand and leaves, pt III

also on ao3 // part I // part II

They go to Steve's the next day. Robin is grinning the whole drive, her legs bouncing in anticipation, and they're relieved to see Eddie's van in the driveway when they get there. Nancy prepares to knock, but Robin just swings the door open, kicking her shoes off toward a wall. They land in a pile of Steve's shoes and Eddie's boots.

"Hello!" she calls loudly, singing, and Steve shouts from the kitchen. Nancy smiles as she toes her shoes off and follows Robin.

"I'm making lunch," Eddie says when they walk in. He's at the stove, making something that Nancy can't see from where she's standing, wearing a frilly apron. Steve is emptying the dishwasher. "You want some?"

"Yes," Robin says, striding past him to Steve. "But first, why didn't you tell us?" She pushes him, but she's still grinning, and Eddie raises an eyebrow at them as Steve stumbles back, looking at her, wide-eyed.

"Why didn't I tell you..." he repeats, looking at her eyes, wide and shining, and glancing at Nancy, who suppresses a smile and raises her eyebrows. "...Did you guys talk?"

"Oh, we did more than talk, Steve," Robin says, and a laugh bursts out of him as he drops the cup he's holding (plastic, thankfully) and wraps his arms around her, lifting up triumphantly. She laughs.

Nancy goes to stand with Eddie, who's watching with his arms crossed contently, holding the spatula. She leans against the counter, watching fondly as Steve swings Robin in a circle, and Eddie uncrosses his arms, wrapping one around her shoulders. She leans against him.

"You kiss her?" Eddie asks.

"Yup."

"Tongue?"

"Yup."

"Nice."

She nods. Steve and Robin are talking now, excitedly smiling and giggling, and in this moment they look younger than they've looked in a long while. Steve looks over and beams at Nancy.

"...You guys fuck?" Eddie asks after a moment.

"Oh, yeah."

"When and where?"

"Approximately five minutes after I told her I liked her, and in the backseat of my car."

"Nancy Wheeler, you dog."

She snickers, and he squeezes her.

"Why didn't you just tell her I'm gay?" Robin is shouting, her arms still around Steve.

"Why didn't you just follow my fucking advice?" he says back. "I'm always right about this stuff, Robs."

Nancy can feel Eddie shaking as he laughs.

"You guys are together, aren't you?" she asks softly, glancing up and seeing how his eyes are shining. "You and Steve?"

"Yeah," he sighs. "Since, uh. Not long after Vecna."

"You kiss him?"

His smile grows, and he speaks softly.

"He kissed me."

"Tongue?"

"Yup."

"Nice."

He squeezes her again, and she rests her head on his shoulder for a moment before she asks, "What are you making for lunch?"

"Oh, fuck," he says sharply, pulling his arm away and spinning around to the stove. There's a sandwich in the pan. "I promised I wouldn't burn it."

He flips it over, and the bottom side is dark, smoking a little bit. He grimaces.

"This one'll be mine and he'll never know."

But a moment later, Steve calls, "Eddie, I smell smoke, did you burn something?"

"Uh-- I'm having a cigarette!"

They all sit at the table together to eat, and Eddie grins the whole time, fondly calling them a big ol' group of queers.

Robin stays at Nancy's house for the rest of the summer. She calls it lesbian privilege that Nancy's parents don't question it, even when they see Robin laying with her head in Nancy's head as they watch a movie in the living room. Robin helps Nancy go through what she's packing, what she wants to leave behind. Mike gets used to seeing her around after a week, treating her almost the same as Nancy, but he steals her coffee once and then gives it back after less than a minute after finding out how much sugar she takes in it. ("That's disgusting, Robin, it's way too sweet." "Your sister's way too sweet." "Oh... my god.") He starts knocking on Nancy's door before entering after walking in them making out.

Will stays over at their house almost as much as Robin. He doesn't spend the night nearly as much, but even when the other kids aren't over, while they're out doing other things, he and Mike are constantly together. Nancy comes home one day to find them putting dishes away while Karen cooks, giggling and stumbling over each other's feet as they try to navigate the small space. She finds them in the basement when she gets them for dinner, laying on the sofa and looking through some of Will's drawings. Another time, Robin comes into Nancy's room and says that Mike let her in, that he was sitting with Will as he painted at the kitchen counter.

Nancy pulls Mike aside one night, grabbing him by the arm and tugging him into the kitchen.

"Ow, what?" He tries to get his arm loose.

"You would have told me, right?" she says, looking at him, wide-eyed. "If you and Will were--"

"Shut the fuck up," he hisses, his eyes equally wide. "I haven't-- Yes, I would tell you, Jesus."

"Okay," she says, releasing him.

That night Nancy is laying in bed, Robin's head on her chest as she reads and Nancy plays with her hair, and there's a knock on the door.

"Yeah?"

The door cracks open, and Mike's voice says, "Are you both dressed?"

"Yes," Nancy sighs as Robin snickers quietly, lowering her book as Mike comes in, shutting the door behind himself, and he silently comes over and falls face-first on the bed next to them, groaning loudly.

"You okay?" Robin asks, shifting so she can look at him, and he groans again, louder, dramatically. He turns his head after a moment, his face squished against the bed, his hair covering him.

"How do I know when to tell him?"

"Tell who what?" Robin asks, her voice gentle, because she can tell how upset Mike is, and Nancy winces, running her fingers through her hair.

"You wanna tell Robin what's going on?" she asks Mike, seeing his eyes look at her through his hair. "She won't tell anyone."

Mike sighs, sending his hair flying, and he rolls onto his side, curling into a ball as he reaches to grab the stuffed rabbit that Steve gave Nancy on her birthday. He hugs it to his chest, hesitating.

"I like Will."

Robin's eyebrows fly up, and she starts to smile before she reaches out and ruffles his hair affectionately.

"When did you know when to tell Nancy?" he asks her, and she moves to rest her face on Nancy's stomach, looking at Mike.

"I didn't," she says. Nancy runs her fingers through her hair again, watching. "I didn't say anything until she told me she liked me, and then I immediately accidentally confessed my undying love for her."

Mike is smiling.

"'I love women,'" Nancy repeats, making Robin's cheeks flush. "'And I love you specifically--'"

"Shut up," Robin says, swatting at her with a stuffy, and Nancy giggles, taking it from her as Mike watches, amused.

"How'd you know when to tell her?" he asks Nancy.

"Uh." She sighs, looking at Robin as she thinks. Robin blinks up at her, smiling. "Just kinda knew. In the moment." She looks at Mike, who's listening intently, half his face covered by the rabbit, the other half covered with his hair. "It was scary as hell, but..."

"You'll know when to tell him, Mike," Robin says gently, reaching over and moving his hair out of his face. "The moment'll smack you right across the face."

His eyes squint under his smile.

He's quiet for a moment as Robin tucks his hair behind his ear.

"You know about... Eddie. And Steve. Right?"

Nancy hums affirmatively.

"Did Eddie tell you, like, how he told Steve?" he asks. "He didn't tell me."

Nancy shakes her head, looking down at Robin.

"He didn't tell me."

"Uh, he told me," Robin says, retracting her hand and hiding Nancy's waist. Her hand is warm. "But it's..."

Mike raises his eyebrows.

"Well, you know how Eddie is," she says. "Just, as a person."

"Yeah."

"So he was hitting on Steve, like, as a joke, even before we beat Vecna, it was just a thing between them. And then apparently one night they were getting high, and Steve's a lightweight, so Eddie was just kinda looking after him while he was stoned, and Steve, like..." Mike is listening intently, unblinking as he looks at Robin. "Just... spilled to him. That he thought was hot and he was into him, and he wanted to, uhm. Kiss him."

"Uh-huh," Mike says, his nose wrinkled.

"But he was too high, so Eddie didn't let him, and he just made him drink some water and go to bed, and then the next day they talked and then he let Steve kiss him."

Mike sighs heavily, rolling onto his back and looking at the ceiling, the rabbit on his chest.

"Okay," he says. "Well Will and I don't do drugs like you guys, so--"

Nancy snorts.

"You make it sounds like crack, it's just weed, Mike."

"Then why won't you share?"

"Because you're a child."

He makes a face at the ceiling.

"Do you think... it's worse if I take a long time to tell him?" he asks. "Am I wasting time?"

"You have all the time you need, Mike," Robin says softly. "You don't need to rush it if you're not ready to tell him."

He sighs again.

He spends the night with them that night, curled up around the rabbit against Nancy's side. Nancy is going to miss this.

**********

"No, you gotta... Mike, those lines aren't even parallel."

Will is giggling, leaning over to point at the sketchbook in Mike's lap.

"You said there's no wrong way to do art."

"There is when you're not doing what you said you wanted to. That looks nothing like the door."

"I'm doing my best," Mike insists, dropping his hand. He really is, but it's hard to focus when Will is sitting so close. They're on the floor, sitting against Mike's bed, facing the door. The door that's on the sketchbook, but that looks nothing like what they're looking at. The lines are messy and scratchy, and it doesn't even look like a door, and Mike wants to give up, but Will is giggling and happy.

"Loosen your grip on the pencil," Will instructs. "You're holding it too tightly, you should be sketching, not... that."

"Wow."

Will giggles again, looking away, and Mike takes the opportunity to gaze at him. His hair is ruffled, still a little damp from biking over in the rain. It's grown out a little bit, and hehe argued against a haircut when Joyce suggested it.

He's also wearing one of Mike's sweaters because his shirt got soaked on the way over. And Mike thinks he may be dying.

Will looks back at him, eyes shining with amusement, and Mike suppresses a smile, looking back at the sketchbook and loosening his grip on the pencil.

"Okay," he says. "Lighter grip. Sketching."

He tries. It doesn't really work. Will is still laughing, watching Mike struggle, and his shoulder bumps against Mike's. It jostles him a little bit, but he doesn't mind because Will is touching him.

"Okay," he says again after a while. "You show me, I can't draw."

He passes the sketchbook over to him. Their fingers brush.

Will looks at Mike's drawing for a moment, smiling like he's fond of it, before he flips the page and glances up at the door.

"Sketching," he says pointedly, drawing quick, simple dashes of graphite across the paper. Mike watches the door slowly appear on the paper, the pencil light and gentle, like the drawing is quiet. He listens to Will's quiet breaths, to the scratching of the pencil, to the tapping of the rain outside.

It was all worth it, he thinks. All the fights, all the fear. Worth it to have Will Byers sitting on his floor with him. Smiling.

"How the fuck is that even possible?" Mike asks, exasperated, throwing his head back into the bed, and Will laughs, setting the pencil down and holding the sketchbook up to look at it next to the door.

"'S just practice," he says lightly. "You know how long I've been drawing."

"Yeah, and you've always been better than me."

"Have you ever drawn often?"

"No."

"That's why."

"Ugh."

Will snickers, setting the sketchbook down in his lap and looking at it happily, bringing his hands together and cracking his knuckles. Mike watches, mesmerized by his hands, but his expression morphs into horror as Will keeps going, twisting his fingers until every knuckle cracks, squeezing his thumbs in his fists until they pop. Will laughs when he sees Mike's expression.

"That's disgusting," Mike says, and Will laughs again.

"You wanna see the one that Jonathan hates the most?"

"Yeah."

Will grins, pressing his palms together and lacing his fingers before he slides his thumb under the other, hooking it under the side of his hand, and he presses, pushing the joint until it cracks loudly, and Mike exclaims. Will laughs, switching hands and doing the same to the other thumb.

"What the hell is wrong with your hands?" Mike asks loudly, and Will just giggles. "Doesn't that hurt?"

"Not at all, no."

Mike stares, narrowing his eyes.

"Are you still possessed?"

Will snorts, elbowing him.

"Asshole." He looks at him. They're sitting so close. Mike could count his eyelashes. "It feels good."

"Doubt."

"Want me to show you how? You can freak out Nancy."

"Yeah," Mike says, grinning.

Will demonstrates, holding his hands up, lacing his fingers again, and Mike copies, watching. Will slowly shows him where to put his thumb, like he's gripping it in the space between his index finger and thumb, and he squeezes.

"It's not gonna do it because I just did it, but it should work for you."

Mike tries tentatively, but it doesn't work.

"Harder."

"I'm gonna break my fucking hand," Mike says, and Will laughs.

"Your hand's not gonna break, Mike, just..." He demonstrates again. Mike tries again. Nothing.

"Oh my-- Give me your hand."

Mike's face flushes with heat as Will takes his hand, his arm slipping under Mike's like he's going to link their elbows, and he holds his breath as Will laces their fingers, and his hand is so warm, and his skin is soft. How is his skin so soft? He doesn't have calluses on his palms like Lucas does, and why is Mike thinking about Lucas right now when Will Byer is holding his fucking hand–

Mike shouts in alarm when his thumb cracks, because he forgot what they were doing, the whole reason Will took his hand, and Will cackles.

"You're sadistic," Mike says loudly.

"You're so loud."

"Of course I'm loud, it sounded like you broke my fucking hand--"

"Did it hurt?"

"No."

"Exactly. It sounded like it broke, but it didn't hurt." Will is beaming. He's almost glowing in the greyish light from the window, like the sky is cloudy and dark because the sun is right here in Mike's living room. "You're so dramatic."

"You're dramatic."

Will rolls his eyes. He pauses for a moment, and then he looks down, and oh, right, they're still holding hands. Mike follows his gaze, looking at where their fingers are laced, and Mike thinks their skin looks nice together. Will is a little more golden than Mike is, and there's some paint stained around his nails and on his knuckles, and Mike can feel his pulse between his fingers.

Will's thumb brushes over Mike's skin, and Mike realises they've both just been staring at their hands, like they're some mystery that needs to be solved.

"Sorry," Will says softly, and he's pulling his hand away, but Mike's hand tightens, pulling it back desperately.

"No, it's... it's okay."

Will's hand relaxes, and he presses it into Mike's again, and Mike exhales.

Will's thumb brushes over his skin so softly that Mike can't even tell if Will is aware that he's doing it, and it feels so good that Mike might cry. Mike can't look away from their hands, like he's trying to memorize it in case it never happens again, and Will lets his head fall back to the bed, sighing, and they're just... holding hands.

Mike looks at him, at the side of his face. He's looking at the ceiling, his expression relaxed like he might fall asleep. And Mike needs him to know.

He remembers what Robin said a few weeks ago. That the right moment would smack him in the face. He feels smacked.

"Will," he whispers after a few moments of internal preparation. His heart is beating so fast he can't even feel it. He might have a heart attack. (What a headline: Boy, 15, Dies of Heart Attack While Holding Friend's Hand.)

"Yeah?"

Mike hesitates, biting his lip, looking at their hands, and when he speaks, his voice is softer than it's ever been, almost silent.

"I love you."

In his peripheral he sees Will look at him, but he can't move. He knows that wasn't clear, so he restates, furrowing his brows and wincing like it's painful.

"I'm... in love. With you."

Will is quiet.

And then his hand jerks out of Mike's, startling him, and he snaps, "Don't fuck with me, Mike, that's not funny."

Mike's blood runs cold, and he feels like's suddenly in the downpour outside. His hands are shaking, and Will sits up, moving away from Mike, which just makes him feel colder. He's never heard Will say fuck before. It's jarring, that word in his mouth.

"I'm not..."

Will glares at him. His eyes are gleaming, and he looks... disgusted.

Mike's eyes burn, and his lip quivers.

"I'm not fucking with you," he says weakly. He takes a sharp breath, but he can't inhale all the way, like his throat is blocking his lungs. "I'm-- I'm sorry, Will, I'm just..." His blood is rushing in his ears, and he might be hyperventilating, but he can't really tell. He doesn't feel like he's in his body. Can't feel the ground beneath him or the bed on his back. "I'm in love with you, I'm sorry."

Will stares at him, and Mike's vision is blurring, but even through his own tears he sees that Will's eyes are watery.

"You're serious?" Will whispers. His voice breaks. Mike nods, blinking tears out of his eyes. His whole body hurts, like his skin burns, like there's this ache in every cell inside him that he can't get rid of.

He apologizes again, chokes the words out, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Mike," Will breathes. Mike shakes his head, lowering his head like he's hiding, because he's ruining it all. Everything. Ten fucking years, all gone because Mike's heart ached in a way it wasn't supposed to. It isn't okay like Eddie said it was. Like Nancy said it was.

"Mike, please..."

A low sob wracks Mike's shoulders, and he squeezes his eyes shut tighter.

And then Will's hand is touching his, just brushing over his knuckles so lightly it almost tickles, and he's siding his hand over Mike's, pulling at it. Mike blinks his eyes open, looking at their hands. He's trembling. So is Will.

Mike raises his gaze, meeting Will's eye, and Will is crying, tears streaming silently down his cheeks.

"Say it again," he whispers brokenly.

"...I love you."

Will swallows nervously, holding Mike's hand tightly, and before Mike can say or think anything else, Will is falling toward him, wrapping his arms around his neck tightly, and Mike has the sun in his arms again. He sobs, squeezing his eyes shut, and wraps his arms around Will's middle, holding him tightly.

Will holds him for a while, his face buried in Mike's hair, and their legs tangle on the floor in front of them.

"I'm sorry," Mike says again when his crying stops, but Will pulls back, murmuring, "No, Mike, it's..."

He stammers silently for a second, and then one of his hands finds Mike's cheek, touching him almost gingerly, like he's made of thin glass. Mike's breath catches in his throat.

"I..." Will's cheeks are red. That always happens when he cries, Mike notices, every time he has flashbacks or sees lights flicker, or the time he fell asleep outside and a bug crawled across the back of his neck. But Mike doesn't get why he's crying now. Why he looked so angry, so disgusted, and now he's touching Mike's face so softly.

"I love you too."

Mike's eyes lower to Will's lips like he's trying to find the words, and his brows furrow. His hands are still on Will's waist.

"...What?"

"I-- I love you," Will says, high voice high, because he's still crying. "I thought you were joking, I thought you-- I thought you were being mean, but if you..."

"I mean it," Mike assures him, nodding desperately, looking into his eyes, his hands gripping the sweater tightly, the knit bunching in his fingers. "I really-- I mean it."

Will exhales, his shoulders falling, and then he's laughing, closing his eyes, and even through his tears, even though he's more confused than he's ever been, Mike is smiling with him. Because Will is so fucking beautiful, smiling brightly, his cheeks glistening with fallen tears. He looks like one of those paintings Mike's seen in Will's art books, those paintings that are studied and almost worshipped, painted by the best, hung on walls in museums in golden frames.

"Oh my god," Will laughs, his hand still holding the side of Mike's face. "Is this real?" he asks breathily, opening his eyes.

"Yes," Mike gasps. "Do you..."

"Holy shit," Will breathes, his eyes scanning over Mike's face like he's still trying to figure out if it's real or not. "You really like me too?"

Somehow like hits even harder. Smacks Mike across the face.

"Yeah," he breathes, nodding, and his eyes sting again. "I really like you."

"You like boys?" Will asks, his voice hushed, weak, helpless. Mike looks at him, at his glassy eyes, his rosy cheeks, and he nods.

Will's face crumbles, and his hands loosen on Mike's face to slide over his neck, and then he's hugging him again, his strong arms around Mike's neck, and Mike melts against him.

"I thought you were mad," he says weakly into Will's neck. "I thought you were disgusted, Will, I'm--"

Will's arms tighten, and Mike hears him gasp for breath.

"I'm not, I just-- I just thought you were being mean."

"I wouldn't do that," Mike says desperately, pulling away and reaching up to hold Will's face. "I wouldn't be mean to you, I'm sorry."

Will exhales shakily, closing his eyes, turning his face into Mike's palm. Mike hesitates, his heart still pounding, and he leans in, pressing their foreheads together as they breathe.

Will's hands slowly slide to Mike's neck, holding him gently. His palms are warm, warmer than his fingertips. So soft. (His face is soft too. Mike kind of just doesn't want to let go of him. Wants to stay here forever, holding him.)

Their noses brush together, and holy fuck, Mike is about to kiss a boy.

Mike is about to kiss Will fucking Byers.

"Is this okay?" he murmurs.

"Yes," Will breathes.

Mike takes a deep breath, suppressing a smile, and then he kisses him. It's a slow, lingering kiss, just the press of his lips to Will's, and Will inhales, his fingers shifting on Mike's neck, pressing into his hair. Mike tilts his head, holding his face tighter, squishing his cheeks, and Will lets out a soft noise, pressing closer.

When they part, Will leans forward, trying to catch his lips again before his eyes flutter open, and he looks like he might cry again. His cheeks are pink.

Mike pulls him into a hug. Will shudders, taking a deep breath, his arms tight around him, and Mike smiles, squeezing his eyes shut, listening to Will breathe, to the fall of the rain outside.

"I love you," he murmurs. "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you."

Will's arms tighten around him.

"God, I love you too, Mike." He presses his face into Mike's neck. "Can I have another kiss?"

Mike's smile grows, and he pulls back, leaning in to kiss him. Will tilts his head, shifting so their legs tangle again, moving closer until their chests almost press, and it's like Mike can practically feel the heat radiating from him. (He remembers how cold felt when he came back that first year, when he was in the hospital. And how cold he needed to be when he was possessed. The heat is welcome, a comfort. Mike would let him burn him if it meant he could keep him close.)

They kiss almost lazily, slow and careful, holding each other close, and they lean against the bed together. Mike winds an arm around Will's neck, pushing his hand into his hair, and Will's arm finds Mike's waist, tugging at the fabric of his shirt, making him shift closer. Mike runs his other hand down Will's arm, over the knit of the sweater he's wearing, until he finds his hand that's resting on Mike's hip. Their fingers twist together.

Mike's lips spread into a broad grin, and Will pulls away, looking at him for a moment before he starts giggling. Mike's chest feels warm. He squeezes Will's hand tightly, kissing him again, but they're barely even kissing anymore, just giggling breathily against each other's mouths, until Will presses a hand against the small of his back, pulling, and he kisses him hard, still smiling.

His fingers tighten on Mike's, squeezing and loosening and squeezing again, and Mike runs his fingers through his hair. He's glad it's longer now.

Will's lips part after a lingering kiss, and he exhales, and Mike kisses him again, biting his lower lip tentatively, and Will's hand presses to his back harder, and their fingers tighten, and--

The door swings open, and they jump apart, startled as Nancy sticks her head in.

"Hey, I'm going to meet Robin at..."

She blinks at them, registering the way their legs are overlapped, the way Mike's arm is around Will's neck, they way they both look alarmed. Her eyes fall to their hands, still linked on Mike's leg, and Will snatches his hand away, taking a sharp breath. Nancy starts to smile, looking at Mike with wide eyes, but he reaches over, grabbing a pillow from where it's fallen off the bed, and he throws it at her.

"Go away!"

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!"

She leaves and shuts the door, but he knows she's grinning to herself. Mike exhales, relaxing against the bed and looking at Will, but Will is staring at the door, eyes wide, his hands now tangled in his own lap, fingers twisting anxiously. He's breathing shallowly, and Mike runs his fingers through his hair again, leaning closer.

"She isn't gonna tell anyone," he says gently, and Will looks at him, inhaling.

"Are you sure?" he asks weakly. Mike hesitates.

"Do you want me to-- to go make sure?" he asks. "I can catch her before she leaves, tell her not to."

Will hesitates, taking another breath, then nods weakly. Mike nods back, saying a soft, "Okay," before he leans in to kiss him quickly.

He runs after Nancy, leaving Will in his room. He almost slips down the stairs but catches himself on the handrail, remembering why he wasn't allowed to run in the house when he was younger (technically he still isn't but he doesn't really care). She's fixing the mirror in her car when he gets outside, and he runs to her door, hitting her window. She makes a face at him, but her voice is muffled when she asks what the hell he's doing, and he realises it's still pouring rain, and his socks are wet from the driveway, and his hair is getting soaked.

He gets in the passenger seat to talk to her.

"You won't tell anyone, right?" he asks frantically. She stares at him, wide-eyed.

"No," she says softly. "Of course not."

"Okay, just... Will got really anxious, and I don't think anyone, like, knows about him, and I don't think he's ready for people to know, so..."

"I'm not gonna tell anyone, Mikey, it's not my business."

He exhales.

"Okay."

He hesitates before holding his hand up.

"Pinky promise?"

She scoffs and hooks her pinky with his.

"Not even Robin?"

"Not even Robin. Will doesn't want anyone to know, I won't tell anyone, okay?"

"Okay." He exhales, nodding.

"What happened?" she asks, poking him. He shrugs, suppressing a smile.

"The moment... smacked me across the face," he says. "And then he thought I was messing with him and I thought he was, like, grossed out, and it was really confusing for a minute, but..." He looks at her, shrugging. "It worked out."

She beams, poking his face teasingly, and he swats her hand away, blushing.

"Okay, we can talk later," she says. "Go back to your boy, you just left him all alone."

He blushes more, reaching out and hitting her face as a goodbye, snickering as she recoils and says his name.

Will is still sitting on the floor when he gets back, his knees drawn to his chest, head on his knees. Mike pauses in the doorway, looking at how his shoulders are rising up and down with each steady, intentional breath.

"Hey," Mike says gently. Will lifts his head, still visibly anxious, but confusion flashes across his face as he looks Mike up and down, followed by amusement as Mike says, "Oh, I forgot it's still raining."

"You're soaked," Will says, laughing quietly, relaxing.

"Yeah, I got the seat in Nancy's car soaked too," Mike says, smiling. Will's hair is still touseled from Mike's hand. It looks good.

"She won't tell, right?" Will asks as Mike goes to his closet, grabbing a towel and drying his hair quickly.

"Nope," he says, dropping the towel to the ground and peeling off his uncomfortably soaked socks before he steps on the towel to dry his feet. "I made her pinky promise."

Will smiles. He watches Mike pick up the towel and his sicks, tossing them into the pile of dirty laundry by the closet, watches him pull off his shirt and grab a hoodie, pulling it on and messing up his hair.

He joins him on the floor again, sitting heavily with a sigh, letting his legs stretch out in front of himself. His sweatpants are spotted with rain, but they aren't very wet, so he doesn't bother changing them. Will is quiet.

"So..." Mike says, running his hands up and down his legs.

Will looks at him.

He doesn't say anything, instead moving closer and resting his head on Mike's shoulder. Mike's insides light up. He squeezes his eyes shut and grins as Will leans against him, curling up and hugging Mike's arm to himself.

"How long have you liked me?" Will asks quietly, sliding a hand to Mike's and lacing their fingers.

"Uhm..." Mike sighs. "I think... I think I always have," he says softly."I just... had no clue."

"When'd you realize?" Will whispers.

Mike pauses.

"California," he whispers. "In the van, when you... when you gave me the painting. I kind of realised that, like, what I felt for you was just... more than what I've ever felt for any girl. 'S why I couldn't say it to El, because I-- I do love her, just not... how I thought I did. Kinda fucked me up, but when I, like, accepted I just..." He sighs, shrugging with the shoulder that Will isn't laying on even though he can't see it. "'S nice."

Will hugs his arm tighter, pressing his face to Mike's shoulder, and Mike reaches over his lap to pull at Wll's leg. Will sets his legs over Mike's lap.

"How long have you liked me?" Mike asks, setting his hand on one of Will's knees.

"Always have," Will murmurs. Mike closes his eyes, taking a breath, and Will's hand tightens on his.

"How long have you known?"

"...Fifth grade."

Mike's eyes open, and he looks down at him even though he can't see him. His stomach flutters.

"Seriously?" he asks weakly. Will nods. Mike's eyes burn, and he lets his head fall to the bed as his lip quivers. He swallows, guilt and shame and years of repression running through his veins. Will seems to notice it, like he can feel it in his hand, and he squeezes, murmuring, "It's okay."

"I'm sorry it took me so long," Mike says, almost choking the words out. Will moves, shifting closer and closer until he's sitting between Mike's legs, hugging him, and Mike wraps his arms around him tightly, hiding his face in Will's neck.

"It's okay," Will says again. "I kind of... Like. Was cool with never acknowledging it. Because I thought there was no way that you'd like me back. And I just... I don't know." He's whispering now, his mouth just over Mike's ear. "Wanted you in my life. However I could keep you."

A whimper escapes Mike, and he's crying again as Will holds him, touching his damp hair.

"I'm sorry," Mike chokes, because he is. He's so sorry, it's pathetic. Because he didn't even know he liked Will for years, and he dated the girl that became Will's sister right in front of him while the whole time they were in love, and if Mike had just known, if he'd just noticed the way his heart beats differently when he's around him, if he'd just--

"Mikey," Will whispers, shifting to press their foreheads together. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I wasted so much time," he says weakly.

Will smiles, shaking his head and holding Mike's face in his hands.

"We're fifteen," he whispers. "We have so much time." He hesitates then leans in and kisses Mike gently. Mike closes his eyes, feeling Will's lips press to his, lingering, and he feels like he's spinning. Will touches his face when he pulls away, tracing his jaw and the freckles on his cheeks. "We have our whole lives."

Mike kisses him again, still crying, reaching to hold his neck, and Will kisses him back, holding his face, still so, so warm.

Will wipes his tears with the sleeves of the sweater, and then he kisses him again.

"You're really pretty," Will whispers against his lips, and Mike's face flushes with heat. Her looks away, suppressing a smile as his stomach flutters.

"Stop," he says half-heartedly, but Will grabs his face, forcing him to meet his eyes.

"You're pretty," he says firmly.

Mike thinks his face must be red, but he can't look away from Will's shining eyes.

"You are too," he says softly.

Will kisses him.

They stay on the floor for a while, kissing and holding each other and crying again just because they don't know what else to do with how overwhelmed they are. Will tucks his face into Mike's neck after a while, just laying against his shoulder and sighing.

"I'm so happy right now," he whispers.

Mike tightens his arms around him.

"Me too."

He closes his eyes while they talk, listening to Will breathe, feeling his breath on his neck, and he reaches down to hold his hand, twisting their fingers together.

"Should we tell people?" Will asks softly.

"Only if you want to."

Will sighs.

"I wanna tell Jonathan and Argyle," he says. "And El. Because they knew I liked you."

"Liked, past tense?"

"Shut up," Will says lightly. "You know what I mean." He presses a kiss to his jaw. "Who did you tell?"

"Nancy, Robin. Eddie. Steve." He pauses, thinking, remembering the night he whispered it to himself, said I love Will Byers out loud to himself. "My ceiling."

Will exhales sharply, laughing softly, squeezing his hand.

"Think your ceiling knows already."

Mike smiles, tilting his head back to look at it. It's an odd thought, that this ceiling has seen everything that's ever happened in here. Seen him grow, seen him cry and laugh. Seen him show El his toys, seen him pack the toys into give-away boxes. Seen him cry because he loves Will Byers. Seen him kiss him.

"He's been here through it all," he says, pretending to cry, and Will giggles into his neck.

"Should we just... tell the Party?" Will asks after a moment, still smiling. "So many people already know, I just..."

"If you want to," Mike says softly, pressing his hand into his hair again. It's so soft. Everything about Will is soft. Mike wanted to make sure he stays that way. Gentle.

"Okay," Will breathes.

He falls asleep there, his head on Mike's shoulder, playing with his fingers until his hand falls still, just cradling Mike's hand in his lap.

**********

They tell the Party at the next movie night. El spends the whole time beaming, giggling as Max and Lucas yell things like WHAT? and WHEN? HOW?. Jonathan hugs them both. Eddie might get a little teary eyed, but Mike can’t tell if he’s being silly or not.

Afterwards, Steve throws a blanket at them to share, and Mike puts his arm around him happily, excited to be able to without worry, without having to feel embarrassed or ashamed for wanting to. And Will tucks himself into Mike’s side, laying on his chest and sighing as Mike plays with his hair. When he takes Mike’s other hand, Mike suppresses a grin, watching Will lace their fingers and adjust their thumbs, and he murmurs a soft, “I hate you,” just before Will presses and cracks the joint.

“No, you don’t,” Will whispers back.

Joyce is happy when they tell her. She hugs them both, holding them and swaying and telling them that she loves them. That nothing will change that. Mike cries.

Mike doesn’t know what to expect from Hopper, who watches the whole interaction from the sidelines, arms crossed, but when Joyce steps aside, Hopper approaches Mike and grabs his shoulders. They’re almost the same height now, but he’s still just as intimidating as he was when Mike had to look up at him. He waits for the shoe to drop, for Hopper to tell him he doesn’t want him dating his son, but Hopper’s voice is softer than he expects when he says, “You know you’ve always been a part of this family, right?”

And he can’t really help it when his eyes flood with tears and he crumbles into Hopper’s arms.

He spends that night in the Byers-Hoppers’ living room, laying against Will. He doesn’t see Hopper drape a blanket over their sleeping bodies, and he doesn’t see him smile.

**********

Nancy leaves for college in early August.

She says goodbye to the Party in the basement. It’s oddly touching, how emotional everyone is saying goodbye. Dustin cries. She says goodbye to Holly just before leaving. She’s crying, telling Holly she’ll be back before she knows it, and that she has full access to her stuffies until then. That she loves her.

“More than all the stars and sand and leaves,” she says softly, and Holly nods, sniffling, her lip quivering as Nancy picks her up and holds her for a while longer.

Eddie takes her to the airport, driving her and her suitcases with Robin and Steve in his van, and Argyle and Jonathan follow in Argyle’s van with Will and Mike and El. It’s not too long a drive to the airport, just a few hours, and Mike spends most of it staring out the window, holding Will’s hand. Argyle has music playing, but Mike isn’t listening, and Will doesn’t try to talk to him except a gentle, “You okay?” after their first rest stop. (Mike just nods. Will kisses his forehead.)

Mike watches as Nancy hugs Jonathan and Argyle and Eddie and Steve and Will and El. He watches as she kisses Robin goodbye, hidden behind the doors of Eddie’s van so they’re hidden from the rest of the parking lot, and he watches as she whispers something to her, something he can’t hear. They’ve got matching rings now, simple silver bands around their index fingers.

Robin steps aside, leaning up against Steve, who wraps an arm around her as Mike steps up for his turn. He’s holding his breath, willing his eyes to stop burning, but when Nancy tilts her head and smiles, the dam breaks. He hugs her tightly, crying as she holds him.

Sometimes he forgets that she’s his big sister. But she’s swaying with him in her arms, rubbing his back, murmuring softly, and he feels awfully small now.

“I’ll be back,” she says, her head on his shoulder.

“I know,” he chokes. “I just…”

“I know.”

They hold each other for a long while, and Mike kind of really wishes he had opened up to her sooner. Even after their first no secrets conversation, he still hid. But he was hiding from it all back then, without even knowing it, hiding from himself, from the world. From Nancy.

“Gonna miss you,” he mumbles.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” she says. “Promise to write?”

“Promise.”

“Promise, promise?”

He laughs wetly and pulls back, holding up his pinky. She smiles and hooks her pinky with his, then reaches up to hold his head, pulling him to lean down and kissing his forehead.

“I love you,” she says softly.

“More than all the stars and sand and leaves,” he finishes, grinning when she gives him a look. “I said it first, I win.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“You’re gonna miss it.”

She sighs heavily, still holding his pinky, and she looks down at it, at their hands together.

“Yeah, I know.”

They hug again, for a long while, until Robin says Nancy’s name gently, coming up and touching her back, murmuring that it’s time to go.

Nancy takes a deep shaky breath, kissing Mike’s head one more time before she steps back and looks into his eyes.

“Write to me,” she says firmly, and he nods. “Play with Holly, be patient with Mom, ignore Dad, be nice to yourself.”

He sniffles, nodding again and trying not to let his tears fall. She nods back, squaring her shoulders like she’s steeling herself. He can see the shine of anxiety in her eye, and he takes a deep breath. She copies.

“Okay,” she says breathily, looking around at the others, who are watching, leaning against Eddie’s van, Argyle holding Nancy’s bag for her. She reaches out to take it, looking at Robin one last time, who kisses her and whispers, “You can do anything,” softly, and then she nods again, looking around at everyone, her eyes meeting Mike’s. Mike’s vision is blurring. Will takes his hand, squeezing when he feels it trembling.

“Uh. Write me if anything happens,” Nancy says, taking another deep breath. “Uhm. I’ll be right back.”

They watch her go. Will holds onto Mike’s arm even though they’re out in the open. El is crying too, and Mike pulls her into a hug.

“She’s wearing the necklace you gave her,” he says, keeping his voice steady, and she gives him a watery smile.

“I saw.”

The drive back to Hawkins feels shorter. Mike keeps looking out the window, but now he’s holding Will’s arm, gripping his upper arm with one hand and playing with his fingers with the other as he watches the world go by. Will rests his head on Mike’s shoulder.

Jonathan and Argyle leave two weeks later, but they take Argyle’s van. They also leave from the Wheelers’ (to Ted’s significant annoyance, not that anyone cares), hugging and kissing everyone goodbye in the driveway. Will is quiet as they watch the van disappear, and Mike wraps an arm around him, holding him as he sighs.

“They’ll be back,” he says softly. He kisses the top of Will’s head.

“I know.”

They go inside.

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iknow-thisisallinmyhead · 5 months

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I wrote a spicier scene than I thought I was capable of! I'm kinda proud of it, too. But it's at the end of chapter 7 so I still haven't really started chapter 8 🙃🙃

T minus 4 weeks-ish till Christmas?

Let's gooooooo

#writing #wip #buddie #fanfiction #eddie diaz #the holiday lie #buddie 911 #buddie fic #911 abc #evan buck buckely #holiday au #cheesey hallmark romcom au

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dandunn · 2 years

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OOPS I almost forgot I can post this now!!! This is my ace/sanji fic entry for @lovingacezine

Please order if you can, a lot of super talented people worked super duper hard on this and the previews look AWESOME!

Join us in loving our favourite flamin' cowboy Ace, the pirate of our heart~

#my writing #acesan #ace #sanji #one piece #loving ace zine #flamin haha gettit #my fic is so cheesey (affectionate) barely a drop of angst in there I promise <3

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emeraldvssilver · 8 months

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I finally watched Red, White, and Royal Blue....and let me tell you....

It was everything my little fanfiction loving heart ever wanted.

#red white and royal blue #loved it #harmless romantic cheesey movie #i swear I've read dozens of fics that have the same plot #it was adorable

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fireflower1015 · 2 years

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Reader runs into their ex's sister who is a gossip and is prying about your love life after going on and on about how happy your ex is with their new S/O.

Coming from a moment of weakness and insecurity, you lie and say you're in the best relationship of your life with your new boyfriend.

Ex's Sister: Wow, he sounds like a real catch. What's his name?

Y/N: Ugh, it's Lawrence...

Ex's Sister: Well, you and Lawrence should join us for drinks this weekend! I just have to meet him.

You curse that you even got yourself into this ridiculous mess but you couldnt back out now without looking like a loser. Desperate- you ask the specter to be your date for the evening.

After teasing you endlessly about his name being at the top of your mind to use as your pretend boyfriend, he agrees to be your "fake" date and does the living man routine.

After the initial rockiness of the evening, the two of you have an amazing time and completely even forget why you were forced onto this date in the first place.

#beetlejuice x reader #musicaljuice #musical beetlejuice #i apologize for this being too cheesey #i love the fics where beej asks reader to pretend to be in a relationship #and i think he would be pleased as punch if reader asked him to do the same 😍

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strawberryclementine · 1 year

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On gloomy days when a loner delinquent had nothing left to do and no one left to fight, Hanma sometimes found himself pondering the rows of books available at the local library. Every once in a while, a cover or a title would catch his eye and he would check out a book.

One extraordinary day, it's not a book that catches his attention.

#tokyo revengers fic #hanma shuji #kisaki tetta #my fic tag #new one shot posted ❤️ it kinda reads like a cheesey Hallmark movie scene lol but i need fluff #hankisa

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djtommotomlinson · 2 years

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The ending of a fic is so hard it’s like how do I sum all this up without it being like aaaand flop. It’s honestly like the best feeling to get a good last line down.

#i think I did really well with the last line of my otb drabble #cheesey af but the fic is soo #i wrote another short angsty ziam and i have no idea how to end it #i cant imagine how id write the last line to my novel #comment and leave kudos this is a link to my tumblr thanks love you #maybe ill write a sequel one day xoxoxox lol

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coldnutparadise · 1 year

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admittedly i am a little obsessed with the fact that despite all their years apart, ashe still keeps a picture of herself and cassidy on her bike

#coldnutparadise.txt #my brain is whirring i am burning to write a ficlet on their times together #i am obsssed - obsessed and i am mad i haven't seen more fics of them #she loves him still ur honor - as a best friend as a brother or as a crush long gone god damn #she struck free from that stuffy lil home - that porcelain cage and she found her home in the desert heat and sand and i like to think that #after all their years together he understands that and doesn't sway her from it #and she in turn understands - hates that she understands - how much it means to him to have been apart of overwatch #maybe she's a little proud maybe a little betrayed #behind all her heated bark and teeth - that picture is so telling and y'know just like a big bro he's laughing his ass off after taking her #bike #havent read their novel but i dont think im interested #ow cinematics are good in that they understand visual storytelling and subtext #that once u see them they kinda just knock u over #that said sometimes they are overly cheesey #could make mac and cheese w it

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ilyasorokinn · 7 months

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the perfect father , elias pettersson

note, this was originally written for jacob markstrom but i decided to rewrite it for someone else. just a personal thing. also, this fic is part of the "home with the petterssons" series. check out this masterlist for more. timeline: this takes place between february 2021-october 2021 pair, elias pettersson x reader summary, y/n and elias manage to keep a huge secret from the world during quarentine. warnings, children/kids, pregnancy, covid/quarantine, a little cheesey word count, 3873 words

(gif not mine)

The NHL schedule was confusing during the regular season, but now you were even more confused with the 2020-2021 season underway. So, to make things easier for you, Elias bought a calendar with your favorite animals and filled it out with all the dates of games.

The calendar really came in handy when planning your doctor's appointment. You had a hunch about what was causing all your sickness and it wasn't a cold.

So, you called the person you knew you could rely on, the one person who would give you the advice you needed to hear and would give you the cold hard truth even if it would hurt.

Holly Horvat.

She did indeed give you the cold hard truth and confirmed your suspicions. She also stayed on the line with you while you booked your appointment.

In the meantime, to ease some anxiety and nerves, you went to the store and grabbed as many pregnancy tests as you could fit in your hands. You purchased them and rushed home as fast as you could.

You sat on the closed toilet lid, head in hand as you waited for your timer to go off. Those two minutes felt like hours. You didn't ever understand that feeling before, but you did now. Time really did go slower.

You and Elias had been together for almost five years, engaged for less than a year, and everything was great. You were great. You had talked about babies briefly, but you talked about it as if it was something in the distant future. After marriage, after a few years more in the league. Clearly, life doesn't always go the way you want it to.

When the timer went off, you jumped out of your skin. You pulled your hands away from your eyes and flipped the tests over, inhaling as you looked at all of them.

"Holy crap." You muttered.

“I’m home!” Elias announced a few hours later, walking into the house. He found it strange that Luna, your dog, didn’t immediately run up and greet him. He followed the sound of the TV into the living room, where he found you fast asleep, and Luna curled up around you.

He smiled, turned off the TV, and draped a blanket over you, but not before kissing you on the head. He made his way into the bathroom to take a shower. He was waiting for the water to warm up a little when he spotted something sticking out of the trashcan.

He pulled it out of the trash and his eyes widened. He dug deeper into the trash, not even caring that he was digging into the trash, and looked at all of the tests in front of him, "Holy..." He covered his mouth in shock before he ran as fast as he could to the living room.

He dropped them on the coffee table then shook you awake, "Y/N." He called out, continuing to shake you before you turned around.

"What?!" You snapped, turning around, about to snap at him again, but you stopped when you noticed the tests sitting on the table, "Oh..." You looked back up at Elias, who was looking to you for confirmation, "Surprise." You gave him a nervous smile.

"Really?" He broke out into a smile, and when you nodded, he jumped onto the couch with you and wrapped you in his arms. You hugged him tighter, kissing his cheek as he pulled away, "Are you okay? Do you need anything?" He frantically asked, cupping your face and then looking down at your stomach.

"No, I'm okay." You smiled at his sudden panic, but stopped and thought about it, "Actually..."

"Anything." He stated before you could finish.

"Anything?" He nodded, "That's a lot of responsibility, Mr. Pettersson." You joked.

"I can do it." He nodded.

"If you say so." You shrugged, before listing off the things you wanted at that very moment, which he grabbed from the kitchen with no hesitation.

Because your plan to surprise Elias was spoiled, you changed your appointment to a day when Elias would actually be home. When that day finally came, Elias woke up before you and made breakfast big enough to feed a small family.

While you ate, you pointed off to different dishes you didn't want and he gave them to your next-door neighbors, who were thrilled and excited by the Swedish dishes Elias had made.

When it was finally time to drive to the doctor's, he was bouncing off the walls of the car, barely able to contain his excitement, "I really can't go in with you?" He frowned as you slipped your bag onto your shoulder.

"I'm sorry." You pouted, "But I'll ask if I can FaceTime you." You promised.

"Okay." He perked up a little at that, "I love you. Say 'hi' to the baby for me." You smiled, leaning over to kiss him.

"I will." You gave him a salute then were on your way in. You waited anxiously, texting Elias the entire time while you waited.

"Pettersson." You stood up, dropping the magazine sitting in your lap and garnering a few looks from the other people sitting in the waiting room.

"That's me." You announced. The nurse offered you a warm smile and nodded, gesturing for you to follow her. She led you into an empty room and instructed for you to sit down.

"Is this your first time?" She asked, typing a few things into the computer.

"Is it that obvious?" You laughed nervously.

"It's okay." She gave you a smile that let you know she knew what she was doing. After she asked her questions, she quickly took some tests and rushed them off to test. And that left you by yourself in the complete quiet. And in that time, everything started to sink in.

You were pregnant.

You didn't know how much time had passed, you were so stuck in your own little world, but someone knocked on the door, and that shook you from your thoughts. A woman you presumed was a doctor popped her head in and gave you a smile.

"I'm Dr. Rowe, it's nice to meet you." She reached out and shook your hand before she made her way over to the small sink, "Y/N, right?"

"Yes." You nodded. She snapped on a pair of gloves and then sat in the chair next to the big bed-table thing next to you.

"So, we got your results back, and congrats, Mrs. Pettersson, you are pregnant." She told you. You let out a breath you hadn't known you were holding and a choked laugh, "Now, I know this is a little overwhelming, so if you need a minute..."

"I'm good." You shook your head, "I'm ready."

"All right, well, I'm going to walk you through what I'm going to do then do it, is that okay?" She smiled when you nodded again.

True to her word, she walked you through what she was going to do, step by step. She then grabbed all the tools she would need and helped you lie down.

"Can I call my husband? Would that be okay?" You asked.

"Of course." She nodded. You whipped out your phone and immediately dialed Elias' number.

"Is it time?" He asked, picking up before the first ring was over. You and Dr. Rowe laughed.

"Yes." You nodded, flipping the camera around as she squirted jelly onto your stomach.

"All right, let's find a baby." She moved the wand around your stomach. Both you and Elias watched in fascination as she moved the wand and a little blob showed up on the screen.

"Is that-?"

"Your baby." She nodded. Neither you nor Elias could say anything as you stared at the screen in pure awe, "Would you like to hear the heartbeat?" You felt yourself nod and heard Elias say 'yes' immediately again.

She pressed a button on the machine and you were in awe all over again, "Elias..." Was all you managed to say through the tears. A silence enveloped the room, the only thing filling it was the heartbeat of your baby, a sound you had decided was your new favorite.

"Would you like some pictures?" Dr. Rowe asked, breaking the silence.

"Yes, please." You nodded.

You walked out of the doctor's office 10 minutes later, sonogram in hand. You made it back to the car and looked at Elias, "It's real."

"We're actually having a baby." He tearfully smiled.

After your appointment, all Elias could talk about was seeing your little baby in a little Pettersson jersey and how cute it would be, so before he came back, you decided to make part of his dream come true.

When Elias finally did have to leave for the little stint of away games, you decided that would be the perfect time to enact your plan. You went to the team store and got a little baby jersey customized, almost crying in your car when you pulled the jersey out of the bag and finally got a look at it.

As soon as you got home, you wrapped the jersey with your nicest wrapping paper, slapped the prettiest bow you owned on it, and began the countdown until Elias would be home.

He wouldn't be home for a few more days, and when he came home, you heard him before you saw him. He came through the door, looking disheveled.

"I'm home." He hummed, dropping his stuff where he stood and making his way over to you quickly, "Did I miss anything? Are you okay? Do you need anything?" He spoke frantically.

"Okay, you need to breathe." You laughed, "I'm fine. We're both fine." You reassured him, "Why don't you get changed and come back out here? I have something for you."

"This feels backwards. I should be bringing you gifts." He laughed.

"Just go." You pushed him towards the bedroom. You waited patiently, trying to keep your excitement at bay. When he finally came back into the kitchen, he looked at the bag on the coutner confused.

"You used the pretty wrapping paper." He pointed out, eyeing the gift suspiciously, "You only use that when it's a good gift."

"Just open the gift, Elias." You told him snappily. He raised his hands in surrender but opened the gift. He froze when he caught a glimpse of the tiny jersey.

He picked up the jersey and held it up so he could look at his name sprawled on the back of it, "Y/N..."

"You talked so much about the baby wearing your jersey, so I got one made." You told him, making your way over to him, "Are you okay?" You asked, worried when you saw he was frozen in place.

"This is perfect." He said, his voice so quiet you almost didn't hear him.

"Oh, Eli." You cooed, wrapping him in a hug.

"Cakes here!" Elias shouted from the door. He shut the door with his foot and carried the cake to the kitchen where you were waiting for him.

You looked at each other nervously, not because the cake was bad, but because you were finally, after months of waiting, going to know the gender of Baby Petey, and that thought filled you with both joy and anxiety.

"You ready?" You asked. He nodded, "All right." You took a breath and set up your camera while Elias grabbed the cake cutter from one of the drawers, "Pettersson family gender reveal." You clapped in front of the camera, imitating one of the movie clappers.

Elias pulled the cake out of the box and you both inhaled sharply. He set it down and his hand hovered over the cake cutter. You grabbed his hand and together, you held the cutter.

"One, two, three." You counted down together, then cut into the cake. When you pulled the slice out, you burst into tears.

"A boy!" He cheered, dropping the cutter and wrapping you in a hug, unable to fight his own tears so you stood in your kitchen, crying tears of joy together at the thought of your unborn son.

With all the guys away on a roadie, one of the girls decided to have a little get-together at her house so you could all watch the game together.

When you knocked on the door, instead of it being the host, it was Gunner Horvat, who must've seen you through the video camera and ran to the door before anyone could stop him.

"Hi, G." You laughed, "I don't think you're supposed to open the door without an adult." He simply stared at you but raised his arms, wordlessly asking for you to pick him up, "I missed you, too, bud." You laughed when he wrapped his arms around you.

"Let her get in the door, Gun." Holly laughed, grabbing the bag in your hand so you could hold onto the child more easily. She led you to the main room where a few other girls were already.

"Surprise!" They all shouted. You gaped in shock at the scene in front of you. Instead of being a little watch party, there were baby decorations all around the living room and kitchen.

"What the heck?" You gasped, tears filling your eyes as you looked at all the other girls.

"Elias told us you were a little bummed that you couldn't have a gender reveal party, so we decided to throw you a little shower." One of the girls explained with a smile.

"This is so sweet." You smiled tearfully. They led you over and grabbed some snacks before leading you to the living room where a small mountain of presents sat, "Wow."

"We might've gone a little overboard." They all laughed. Before they started, they made sure you had everything you needed and wanted before you began.

You opened so many things you didn't even know you needed but all the other mothers told you you needed. The last present was smaller than the others but they all looked excited for you to open.

You pulled out an exact replica of your special denim jacket with 'Pettersson' on the back. Everything was the same, even down to the special patches you had put on it.

"Wow." You gaped, at a loss for words as you turned the jacket around to look at every detail.

"Do you like it?" You could hear the worry in her voice.

"I love it. It's beautiful." Your eyes filled with tears again, and they all crowded you in a big hug.

It was really late. Way too late for you to be up late. It was almost 3 in the morning, and you were awake. Why you may ask? Because the baby wouldn’t stop moving, plus she was craving food.

You knew Elias was asleep. It was evident by the loud snoring. Instead of trying to fall back asleep, you got out of bed. As soon as your feet swung over the edge of the bed, Luna was up and standing next to you.

You smiled when she trotted alongside you towards the living room. By the time you made it to your destination, you were a little tired, but the overwhelming hunger outweighed the tiredness. So, you turned on the TV, before making your way into the kitchen. You grabbed an armful of different snacks and headed back to the living room.

You settled on the couch, the dogs curling into you on each side. You got through half an episode when you heard footsteps coming down the stairs, “What are you doing up? It’s almost 3:30.” Elias rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he made his way over to you on the couch.

“I was hungry, and couldn’t sleep.” You shrugged. He gave you a tired smile and carefully sat down next to you.

“Why didn't you wake me and tell me you were hungry?”

“You looked peaceful, and I just didn’t want to wake you.” You told him.

“I wish you had told me.” He yawned, and you chucked.

“I’ll be sure to do that next time.” You nodded.

"How's baby?" He asked sleepily, leaning his head on your shoulder.

“He doesn’t know when it’s time to play and when it’s time to sleep.” You told him, looking down at your bump and rubbing it.

“And how are you?”

“I’m really tired.” You admitted, looking over at him. When you finally met his eyes, he could see how tired you really were.

He grabbed your hand and pressed a few kisses to it. He grabbed the chip bags surrounding you and took them back to the kitchen. By the time he got back, your eyes were drooping, and you were on the verge of sleep.

“Come on. Let's get you to bed." He got off the couch and helped you get up too. He placed a kiss on your head before leading you down the hallway, back towards your bedroom.

He helped you get situated back in bed, tucking you in and making sure you were comfortable. He then climbed in next to you, "Sleep well." He whispered, caressing your cheek. He made sure you were asleep before he fell asleep.

Your due date was a few days away, and both you and Elias were getting very excited. Every day, you would wake up, and waddle down the stairs where Elias was already making breakfast. You would sit at the kitchen island, and the two of you would talk about the dreams you had the previous night.

You would spend most of the day lounging around the house. Either watching TV, reading books, going for drives, organizing the house again, it was the same thing every day.

Then, after dinner, the two of you would go out for a walk with the dogs. It was really the only outside interaction you would get all day unless you went out to the backyard.

The night was no different. After dinner, you grabbed your jackets and leashed up the dogs. All throughout the day, you had stomach pain. You brushed it off all the time as stomach pain. Elias usually walked ahead because he had quicker strides, but never too far because he was protective.

You were walking in silence when a sharper pain hit you, and you let out a pained noise. That caught Elias' attention, and he whipped around, “What is it? What’s wrong?” He asked, cupping your face with one hand, while his other went down to your stomach.

“I-” Before you could finish, you felt a wave of liquid trickle down your leg, “I think I’m going into labor.” You winced. You looked at him and saw all the color drain from his face, “What are you doing?!” You hit him in the arm when he didn't move, “We gotta go.”

That snapped him out of it, “Come on, baby. Let’s get you to the hospital.” He helped you walk, well waddle, back towards the house, “Breath baby, breath.” He kept telling you and placing kisses on your temple.

“He's beautiful,” Elias whispered as he leaned down over your shoulder to look at the newborn.

“He's perfect.” You smiled at him, cradling your son closer to your chest. Leonardo Michael Pettersson was perfect in every way. When you called and told Brock that you had given Leo his middle name, he almost cried.

Elias had been nothing but supportive throughout the whole process. He waited on you hand and foot, the same way he had all throughout your pregnancy, getting you whatever you asked. He even let you curse at him, and squeeze his hand which was the least he could do.

A few hours after birth, you had fallen asleep, leaving Elias and the baby alone. Elias was sitting in the chair next to your bed without a shirt, cradling little Leo to his chest. He had read somewhere that skin-to-skin contact was good for babies, so he figured he would give it a try. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the little baby.

“We’re so happy you’re here.” He whispered. Leo couldn't understand a word he was saying, but he looked up at him with his big blue eyes. His blue eyes, “We waited so long for you, and now that you’re here, you’re gonna be so spoiled.” He pressed a kiss to his chubby cheek.

“You’re already so loved. You have aunts and uncles who are so excited to meet you.” Somewhere in between his conversation, you started to wake up, but kept your eyes closed, “And of course mommy and I are so happy you’re here.” He added.

You continued to listen to Elias talk to Leo, and it warmed your heart. You knew, from the moment you told him you were pregnant, and he started taking care of you and telling you not to lift a finger, you knew he was gonna be a great father.

And boy were you right.

5 months later, February 2022

After months of waiting, you finally got the clearance for Leo to a game, and Elias was thrilled. You slipped the little Pettersson jersey on him, a surprise Elias didn't know you had in store for him.

You bundled him up in a blanket, and even got a little beanie with the number 40 embroidered on the top of it, "Papa is so excited for tonight, and you probably won't remember anything, but it's such a big night." You whispered as you got Leo ready.

You parked yourself in front of the arena, standing alongside a few of the other girls and their kids, as you waited for the guys to skate out.

When they skated out, Elias did his usual skate around the ice, tossing a few pucks over the glass to a few fans, and shooting at the net a few times, before he finally skated around to where you were standing.

You couldn't help but smile when you saw the smile on his face. His face showed nothing but pride as he watched Leo sleep. He blew you a kiss, then blew a kiss at Leo, who blissfully continued to sleep.

He tossed a puck over and one of the guards standing in front of the ice caught it and handed it over to you, "Thank you." You smiled at the man, slipping it into the bag and gathering your stuff.

After the game, and an OT goal from Elias which he chalked up to dad strength in a post-game interview, you finally met up with him in the parking garage.

"I'm so proud of you." You wrapped him in a hug before he could get into the car, "An overtime goal." You cheered.

"I had my good luck charms with me." He beamed, kissing your head and then kissing Leo's. When he pulled away, he finally noticed the jersey and gaped, "It's the jersey."

"It felt fitting for his first game." You shrugged with a smile.

"It's perfect." He picked up Leo carefully and cradled him to his chest, kissing his head again, "I love you." He leaned down, leaning his forehead against yours.

"I love you, too." You hummed, leaning up to kiss him.

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therebels787 · 2 years

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No Need To Be Shy

Sorry I haven't posted in awhile, I haven't really had the inspiration to write another fic. This one a bit cheesey honestly but I thought it was a cute idea. I also have another one I'm working on that a bit of a lewd on but honestly I don't think that'll be any good. Anywho I hope you all enjoy this one, it was fun to write.

You looked throughout the apartment, your bedroom lay empty and clean, the guest-turned office was slightly a mess but really who cared, as long as no one was in there, you were good, and the living/dining room was also empty. Finally! You could do something you hadn't had the chance to do in such a long time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cloud was bone-tired, he had been on the road for what felt like a month. He had been travelling back and forth between Kalm and Edge all week. No one was making up their damn mind or talking to one another. It absolutely drained the poor man. At least now he's a little better at talking with people, so it wasn't as bad. Compared to how he was a few years ago, it's like he was a different person. Sometimes though, when he's been gone for a bit too long, he wonders what would’ve happened if things had taken another course.

‘I might’ve never met Barret's annoying ass, reunited with Tifa, had the kids, made a new family or met…y/n,' he paused for a moment then shook his head, 'I definitely wouldn’t have been as happy.’ Cloud thought with a small smile. He just really couldn’t wait to see you. All he wanted was to relax with a nice warm meal, cuddle up next to you, watch some corny movies, and just sleep with you in his arms. The thought alone made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Something he never would admit to liking, since he still had a reputation to keep.

He quickly got to your guys' shared apartment, and went to unlock the door. He was picturing you giving him that sweet smile of yours, walking up and embracing him (with a kiss hopefully), and just expressing all those annoying lovable feelings that he only let out for you.

What he wasn’t picturing when he unlocked the door, was to hear music. Naturally, Cloud knew you were really into music, but most of the time you would only listen to it when you had your earbuds in after dinner, when you both cleaned up or when you were working from home on some commissions in the office. This was slightly out of his comfort zone, but nevertheless, he walked through the door and shut it behind him.

The song was not something he thought you would listen to. He knew you for your f/m/g, something he could also enjoy if you had played it around him, but this was a bit more modern. More…he didn't know what, but it sounded really cliche? Anywho, he looked around the living room trying to figure out just what was happening before he noticed a slight bit of movement in the kitchen. Slowly he approached. What he found was quite…interesting to say the least.

There you were dancing, your sweet little heart out to some old pop songs that so many people hated back in the day. You never really were good at dancing but that didn't stop you at this moment. You were twirling, shaking your hips, hell even jumping at some point. None of that mattered to you. You were having the time of your life and Cloud loved it.

He leaned on the doorframe of the kitchen and just watched, honestly if he had a camera he would've been recording but that felt a bit weird. Either way, he loved watching this side of you.

Once the song was done you let out a shaky breath and went over to turn off the music. Once that was taken care of you turned to see your boyfriend giving you a goofy smile.

"...heya." You whispered and gave an awkward wave.

"Hello," he replied with a nod of his head.

"..."

"...so how much did you see there?"

Cloud thought for a moment, "I'm not too sure."

"Ok…"

"You looked like you were having fun," he said as he moved from the doorway towards you.

"Y-yeah, it was pretty fun tbh." You reply as you bow your head, feeling too embarrassed to look at him. Cloud, being Cloud though, was not about to let you keep feeling like that. He lifted your head, and gave you a reassuring smile before dragging you into a tight hug, which you quickly returned.

"Why are you such a dork?"

"Maybe because I'm in love with one?" You muttered back against his shoulder, causing him to laugh.

"And here I was, about to offer to be your dance partner for next time."

That made you gasp, you knew about the whole "Miss Cloud Incident '' from Tifa, so you had just assumed that Cloud wouldn't want to dance. You softly pushed yourself away from him just so you could look up into his eyes, which honestly you could just get lost in for hours on end (because you have, too many times now to count), and blinked a few times before asking-

"Really? You would dance with me?"

Cloud wasn't expecting you to sound so surprised.

"Of course," he started to feel a bit flustered with the way you were looking at him. It was the same face you made when he confessed way back when.

You looked like someone that was told their whole life that they could finally have the one thing they were never even allowed to look at, let alone think of. That face always made him feel like he was worth something, that you made him worth something, (he knew that wasn't how it works but still).

"I'd do anything for you, y/n." He said before capturing your lips in a sweet, gentle kiss. You both stayed like that for a few seconds before pulling away. You relaxed a little more and placed your head on his chest as he held you. "Just don't expect me to do any crazy dance moves ok?" He said.

"Of course babe." You laughed, causing Cloud to think for a moment.

"..."

"...Tifa told you, didn't she?"

"Yup."

Cloud quickly regretted this agreement.

#cloud strife #cloud strife x reader #cloud x reader #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #final fantasy cloud #fluff #gender neutral reader #reader insert #x reader #ffvii cloud x reader #ff7 cloud x reader #happens during Advent Children cause i love older Cloud #like seriously he's just such a dork #poor cloud #mentions miss cloud #also the song is baby cause that is bop and you cant tell me otherwise #baby by justin bieber specific

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iknow-thisisallinmyhead · 6 months

Text

I started the last chapter!!!!!

Chapter One: 11,882

Chapter Two: 14,334

Chapter Three: 13,443

Chapter Four: 12,812

Chapter Five: 13,428

Chapter Six: 12,882

Chapter Seven: 12,661

Chapter Eight: 37

Total: >91,511

I'm so excited and terrified to actually finish this story! I can't wait to post it for every one to read! I'm gonna have to figure out some sort of posting schedule, which actually has me nervous lol 😅 but the plan is definitely posted for christmas! I just need to figure out if I should do like a weekly/biweekly thing, or if I should post it in "real time." (It takes place in the week leading up to Chrismas, the 19th-25th, and each chapter is one day. Maybe I'll do a poll or something?)

#buddie #fanfiction #writing #eddie diaz #the holiday lie #wip #buddie 911 #buddie fic #911 abc #evan buck buckely #christmas au #holiday romcom au #buddie holiday romcom au #we're talking cheesey hallmark romcom and i hope its as good as i think it is 😅

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ecliptiz · 8 months

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Heyyy do you mind if I make a request? If you don't wanna write this that's obvs totally fine I just wanted to ask and see 💗

Could I ask for peter pettigrew x reader where reader is a little bit apprehensive of him because in thier younger years at hogwarts she fell victim to some of thier pranks and general silliness. Now in the last year of school she's in a class with peter and they have to share a book and so she has meet with him in the common room for working together for this class and she begins to realize that the marauders aren't that bad and somehow squeeze in some mutual pining between pete and reader and maybe the other marauders somehow set them up

(Yes I am aware of the cheesey-ness of this, if you could somehow find a way to squeeze in some angst that would be sublime because I love cute cheesy fics but I also love angst so I'm kind of torn on what I want really just anything with peter would be great if you can 💗🥰 )

𝗪𝗛𝗬 𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗪𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘 ╰► PETER PETTIGREW

SUMMARY — Sharing a book leads to a lot of things with the boy you thought you hated.

WARNINGS — CURSING

PETER PETTIGREW, an unassuming figure among the flamboyant constellation known as the Marauders, seemed to carry a perpetual aura of being overshadowed.

In a group where Remus held the enigmatic allure, Sirius radiated a bad-boy magnetism, and James exuded charisma that could light up the entire room, Peter was the quiet comet trailing slightly behind.

He lacked the rebel spirit that made Sirius captivating, the athletic prowess that drew attention to James, or the layered complexity that shrouded Remus.

Instead, he was just Peter — an unremarkable blonde boy with a penchant for sugary treats, indifferent to the allure of books or the thrill of sports.

His life was the epitome of normalcy, from his home routine to his uneventful days. Amid the cacophony of his more vibrant friends, he occupied the role of an exception rather than the rule.

Yet, against all expectations, his gaze started to drift toward a certain girl who possessed an uncanny ability to captivate him, even when her actions seemed trivial to others.

Whether engrossed in her books during class, fiercely competitive on the Quidditch field, quietly rebelling against authority, or simply navigating an ordinary day, she never failed to seize his attention.

For better or worse, she had woven herself into the fabric of his thoughts, casting a spell on his mundane existence and revealing the unexplored shades of Peter Pettigrew.

And there she was, nestled in the warm embrace of the common room, surrounded by the familiar faces of her friends. Her attention was drawn to their lively banter, laughter harmonizing like a soothing melody. Unbeknownst to her, a pair of intense blue eyes were fixated on her from a distance, tracing her every movement.

Meanwhile, those very eyes were the subject of another's scrutiny. Sirius, the audacious one of the bunch, leaned in with an impish grin, his raven-black hair adding to his aura of mischief. "Who ya’ looking at, Wormy?" he chimed, his voice laced with teasing curiosity.

Peter's heart raced, his gaze quickly veering away, panic dancing in his eyes. His efforts to evade Remus and James's knowing looks proved futile, and he was caught in their playful trap. "No one, just the—uh... window, yeah," Peter stumbled over his words, attempting to sound casual, but his furtive glances in her direction betrayed his façade.

James seized the opportunity with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, his voice carrying a singsong quality. "Oo…" he cooed, delighting in Peter's discomfort. Unsurprisingly, the attempt to downplay his interest had failed. Peter's vehement denial only fueled their amusement.

Quickly shaking his head, Peter fervently dismissed their assumptions. "No, no 'oo'," he protested, his voice slightly too high-pitched in his nervousness. The length of his blond hair shifted as he moved, and in that seemingly trivial detail, his awkwardness was encapsulated.

"Wormtail likes a girl," James teased, his voice playfully sing-song as his round glasses slipped down his nose.

Remus raised his head from his book, a subtle yet teasing smirk gracing his lips.

"Which one is it? The one with the black hair? Oo, maybe the blonde!" James speculated, his excitement palpable.

“Maybe the (H/C) one?" Sirius chimed in, his gray eyes dancing with mischief. As the blush painted Peter's cheeks, Sirius erupted in laughter, raising his hands in mock celebration.

"It is!" Sirius declared triumphantly, elbowing Remus and pointing in the direction of the (H/C) girl. He turned to Remus with an eager grin. "Who is it, Remus? You're like our walking encyclopaedia."

Remus paused, humming in thought for a moment. "Y/N, she’s in our Potions class," he replied, his gaze shifting to Peter along with an arched eyebrow. "And Peter sits right next to her," he added with a playful edge, knowing well where this was leading.

James laughed heartily as Sirius erupted in cheers, earning a few odd glances from those around them. "Finally! Peter's getting a lady, lads," he proclaimed, mixing teasing with a mock serious tone.

However, the enthusiasm was short-lived as Remus interjected. "I don’t think she likes us," he admitted, dampening their spirits.

The realization weighed heavily, but it was no news to Peter, who had already experienced the brunt of Y/N's indifference firsthand, feeling her pointed glances and cool reception whenever he tried to initiate a conversation.

"Why do you say that?" Sirius inquired, reclining on the couch with his legs spread out and his arms casually draped behind him.

"Do you remember that prank we pulled in our third year? The one involving that paint which turned people neon and made them glow like that for a month?" Remus posed the question, tilting his head in recollection.

Sirius nodded, his expression pensive as he pieced the memory together. James mirrored the same contemplative look.

"What about it?" Sirius pressed, a quizzical eyebrow raised. Remus delivered his response with an exasperated eye-roll. "Y/N was the unfortunate victim. We ruined all her homework, papers, her clothes—everything she was wearing," he recounted, listing the extensive damage they had caused.

As Remus spoke, Peter felt a heavy pang of guilt settle within him, his shoulders slumping in response.

James winced, his lips forming a tight line as he glanced at Peter, sympathy evident in his eyes.

Sirius, on the other hand, hissed through his teeth, his gaze now on Peter. "You certainly picked a challenging one there, Pete," he jested, patting Peter's shoulder with a chuckle.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

PETER FELT A sickening sensation gnaw at his stomach, his nerves twisting into tight knots. He sat in the Potions class, a restless heat simmering beneath his cauldron, which signaled one thing—today's practical potion session.

Beside him sat Y/N, her expression a picture of boredom as she idly gazed at the flickering flames beneath her cauldron. The professor's words cut through the still air, announcing the day's task: a potion-brewing assignment.

Y/N's attention shifted to her satchel, her brows furrowing as she rifled through its contents. She paused, her searching becoming more frantic as she realized her textbook was nowhere to be found. An inward curse accompanied her reluctance to turn to Peter for help.

With a reluctant sigh, she finally spoke, her tone tinged with ennui. "I don’t have my book." Externally nonchalant, inside she was churning with worry.

What if Peter had shared her eccentricities with the other Marauders, leading to some sort of bizarre hex? She had heard a rumor from a seventh-year Hufflepuff that they were involved in an eerie cult-like activity within the Shrieking Shack.

On the other hand, Peter was grappling with a jumble of thoughts, his mind a swirling vortex of nervousness. Staring at her, his book hung limply in his hand, his words stumbled and tripped in his mind, leaving him tongue-tied.

"We can, uh... share?" he eventually stammered, inwardly cringing at the crack in his voice. Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, and he felt himself shrink under her scrutiny, his cheeks turning a shade warmer than he'd have liked.

After a brief pause, Y/N nodded in agreement, shifting closer to him. This simple movement sent tremors through Peter's nerves, his palms clammy and his heartbeat resonating in his ears.

He tried to steady his trembling hand as he opened the textbook, attempting to act natural while his mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions.

The professor's voice cut through the air, announcing the next part of the class. "And with your table partners, you will be composing a six-inch essay on the effects of this potion, its consistency, and the brewing process—covering the standard topics."

Peter's heart felt like it had taken a sudden leap, only to plummet back into his chest. Spending extended time with Y/N was both thrilling and terrifying for him.

Meanwhile, Y/N couldn't help but internally groan at the prospect. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck working closely with a Marauder, especially since their presence seemed to come in a package deal.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Y/N SAT IN the cozy corner of the Gryffindor common room, Peter beside her on the red couch. Books, quills, and scattered sheets of paper were strewn across the table,

Despite the material at their fingertips, Y/N felt the weight of awkwardness settle in the air. Her posture was rigid, and words seemed to evade her.

Despite the material at their fingertips, Y/N felt the weight of awkwardness settle in the air. Her posture was rigid, and words seemed to evade her. She was acutely aware of the eyes of James and Sirius on them, making her heart race uncomfortably.

Across from them, Remus occasionally looked up from his book, his gentle smile a mixture of understanding and encouragement.

"So, is this one of the effects, or is it for a different aspect?" Peter's voice broke the silence, a seemingly innocent question that held the true purpose of engaging in conversation with Y/N.

She glanced at her book, hiding a small smile. "It says 'effects' right here," she replied, her laughter softening the atmosphere and putting Peter at ease.

"Yeah, come on, Pete," Sirius chimed in, appearing behind the couch with a mischievous grin. He rested his arms on their shoulders, pushing them slightly together.

Y/N stiffened initially, suspicion clouding her expression. However, a deep breath later, she allowed herself to relax. Perhaps Sirius wasn't up to his usual pranks this time?

Peter also eased up, mirroring her movements. The unexpected push from Sirius brought them closer, their shoulders touching.

Sirius released them with a satisfied whistle, striding away as if his brief interference had been entirely innocent. James struggled to suppress his laughter behind his hand, amused by Sirius's antics.

Neither Y/N nor Peter moved.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

FOUR MONTHS, six days, and two hours had elapsed since that fateful day—an interval that hadn't gone unnoticed by Sirius, who was meticulously keeping track.

"Peter, it's high time you made a move," Sirius declared, his expression firm as he stared down at the groggy trio seated on the floor, all clutching their pillows.

Groans of protest filled the room, Remus's voice particularly raspy from sleep. His hair was in disarray, and his eyes struggled to focus.

"Did you have to wake us for this?" Remus complained, rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn.

"Yes, because for the past two months, you two have been inseparable. Peter can probably recite her favorite shampoo brand by now. Don't you think it's about time?" Sirius's voice held an air of exasperation, his tongue clicking in annoyance.

James let out a long-suffering sigh, closing his eyes and burying his face into his pillow. "Do we have to go through this? Peter's practically sleepwalking at this point!" he protested, gesturing toward the disheveled figure that appeared half-asleep, barely registering the conversation.

"James, remember last year with Lily? You had us going through this every single night!" Sirius retorted, his hair a wild mess as he shook his head.

"I've even got bets riding on this, James. Marlene bet against me, claiming they won't get together this month. And I've staked my hair on it! My hair!" Sirius's voice reached an incredulous pitch as he emphasized the gravity of the situation.

Peter stirred from his half-asleep state, mouth hanging slightly open with a small trail of drool. "Huh? What's happening...?" he mumbled, his speech slurred and drowsy.

Sirius grinned, his grey eyes shining as he shook the boy back and forth by the shoulders. “We’re gonna get you a girlfriend, Pete.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

THEY RELENTLESSLY attempted various schemes to portray Peter as a hero, a selfless gentleman, a smooth talker—anything to capture the attention of the girl he secretly pined for, the girl whose minutest details he knew by heart.

One strategy involved James hurling a bludger in her direction, supposedly for Peter to heroically intercept before it reached her. The outcome? A bloodied nose, an irritated Y/N, a sheepish James, a rolled-eyed Remus, and a barely-contained laughter from Sirius.

Then there was the attempt to make Peter appear exceptionally intelligent. They covertly provided him with answers to questions the professor posed, but alas, he ended up delivering the wrong responses half the time.

They even tried to coach Peter in the art of flirting, an endeavor that concluded with him crashing headlong into a wall while trying to charm Y/N on their way to class, leaving him with a concussion and Y/N understandably perplexed.

As the week neared its end, the boys found themselves somewhat disheartened. Despite their efforts, Peter seemed to have made little progress—assuming they had missed any subtle signs—and their attempts at pet-sitting for Y/N's cat had resulted in scratches all over them.

The cat was clearly not fond of their company.

Peter's mood was gloomy as he sat alone in the library, his posture guarded and defeated. His gaze was fixed hazily on a romance book titled 'A Guide to Love for Dummies,' which he had already read three times over.

When someone sat down nearby, he quickly tossed the book aside, looking up with a mixture of surprise and trepidation, only to meet Y/N's (E/C) eyes.

Startled, he took a shaky breath, his cheeks taking on a reddish hue. A similar change in color adorned her (S/C) skin, puzzling him even further. He cleared his throat, attempting to appear nonchalant as he rested his head on his hand, his other hand resting on his waist—an intended display of casualness that didn't quite go as planned.

His arm slipped, causing his head to thump against the table. Panicking slightly, he shot up straight, clearing his throat again.

"Y/N!" he attempted to deepen his voice, but it cracked embarrassingly.

"Peter." Her smile was warm, her gaze flickering between his flushed cheeks and his sparkling eyes.

"What were you reading?" Her inquiry was accompanied by a glance toward the book he had discarded. Unbeknownst to Peter, she was quite aware of his reading material—she had been discreetly observing him too.

“A- uh..Sports book! Yeah muggle sports book.” He said hurriedly, eyes widening when her hand made its way to rest in his.

“So uh- Peter I’ve been thinking about your little stunts with your friends.” She spoke, her soft voice turning serious.

She had alsways thought the Marauders were stuck up bullies, and that may be true to some extent she had gotten to know them over the time..getting to talk to Remus about things like books, life, walks. Being able to Talk to James, or debate with him about random things, not every getting really mad at eachother. Being able to Talk to Sirius about more Serious things- pun intended- the stars, gossip.

And being able to gaze at Peter when he was doing random things, and feeling a warm feeling in her heart, something that made her head spin , tummy twist and turn and a hard to get rid of smile bloom on her face.

Peter watched her, eyes wide and brows furrowed- lip darting out to wet his dry lips.

“I uh..” she trailed off, taking a deep breath.

Peter thought of all the words Sirius had said to him, what James had said, and pushed them to the side- there advice sucked. But he could rely on Remus’s advice.

And following Remus he did. His mouth moved before his brain, words spilling out. “I like you! Really like you..i like everything about you, i like how your serious face looks, i like your smile and how your eyes look when you do..” Peter continues to ramble about her, all while Y/N listens with parted lips, heart beating in her ears.

And in the end, lips jumbled together, expressed feelings and thumping hearts.

Peter was no longer a figure in the background, he was in the main light to the most important person of his life, he was no longer the full character, he had bloomed.

And instead of a dull flashing star in the night sky, he was one of the brightest, shining amongst the ones he was once in the background for. He was no longer the ‘The fourth Marauder’ he was ‘Peter Pettigrew’

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