#oh no wait. stanford. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leaderwonim · 4 months

Text

SEASONS

⤻ pairing. popular!sunghoon x shy!reader (ft nishimura riki and hanni from nwjns)

⤻ genre. fluff, hints of angst, brother’s best friend to lovers trope (reader is heeseung’s sister) forbidden love kinda

⤻ synopsis. park sunghoon, the notorious playboy who just so happens to be your brother’s best friend, was off limits. heeseung had made it clear to you during your freshman year of high school, and the rule still hasn’t changed even when entering your senior year. but what lee heeseung doesn’t know won’t hurt him right?

author’s note: wrote this out of boredom after listening to seasons by wave to earth 🥹 i love that song with all my heart. riki is so unserious lmao i love him. COMMENTS & REBLOGS are always appreciated 🤞

“he’s off limits,” heeseung says as he swings by your desk, watching as you scrolled through your Instagram feed, a post of sunghoon’s passing by. “i saw you stalk him, you know.”

“i wasn’t stalking him.” you say, shooing your older brother away. “geez, have you gotten crazier since you’ve left for stanford?”

“first of all, i’m not crazy.” he flicks your forehead, deciding to be the annoying older brother he was and rummage through your things. “and i’d like to see you get into stanford yn, i really would. instead of being boy crazy with your psychotic friends.”

you roll your eyes at this, placing your phone down to look at your brother. “my friends are not psychotic. plus, your stupid rule about sunghoon started in freshman year of high school, can’t you let it go?”

“never.” heeseung steps off your bed. “i know him, yn. you don’t, you don’t know what he’s capable of.”

you blow the threat from your brother. if there’s one thing you’ve learned from living with lee heeseung your entire life was that ignoring him was easier than trying to pick a fight with him. he was stubborn as a bull.

heeseung and sunghoon became friends in the fifth grade after your family had moved, and he ignored your presence up until junior year of high school, where he ruffled your hair when you congratulated him on his graduation.

“thanks little lee,” he says, and it’s all park sunghoon has spoke to you, which hurt knowing that you’ve practically tried everything since middle school for him to acknowledge your existence.

“YN!” your mother calls from the kitchen. “oh gosh, i forgot to pack heeseung his lunch! can you drive to the university?”

your cheeks puff out, which makes riki who was currently on your phone screen, laugh.

“yah, listen to your mother lee yn,” riki snickers. “i’ll come with. i need to get out of my house anyway.”

you roll your eyes at his self invitation, hanging up as you quickly run down to grab heeseung’s lunch from your mom and your keys.

yn on top☝️

be ready in 5 nishimura, im omw

nishishi

ok.

yn on top ☝️

dry ass

“get in loser!” you call out. nishimura riki pulls his black shades down, eyebrows furrowed.

“the hell you call me?” he jokes, opening your passenger car door.

he starts to buckle his seatbelt as you drive, taking a sip from your stanley. “so why are you so excited? wait—i know why. you get to see park sunghoon in action!”

“yah!” you slap his shoulder with your free hand, turning the music a bit louder so you couldn’t hear him.

“oh don’t turn up the music because you can’t handle the truth. you just wanna see your brother’s hot best friend.”

“can you blame a girl?” you say, lips out in a pout. “maybe now that i’m 18, they’ll take me seriously.”

“nobody takes you seriously, y/n.”

“nishimura riki, you have 5 minutes to get out my car.”

turns out, nishimura riki did not get outside of your car. for a boy who was on the varsity track and swim team of your high school, he refused to walk the 3 miles that was left to go to the university.

“you almost forgot his lunch idiot,” riki laughs, handing heeseung’s lunch to you. “imagine you approach sunghoon thinking you’re all cool and then he asks why you’re here and you don’t even have your brothers lunch to defend you.”

“do you always wish death upon me?” you give him the stink eye, pulling him by his hands.

“little lee, did not expect to see you here.”

you knew that voice from anywhere, and you were almost afraid to turn around to face the owner of it.

“yah little lee, i’m talking to you.” it was park sunghoon in all his glory, his hair sitting all nice and pretty as he waits for your response.

“oh! uh—where’s heeseung?”

“ouch,” sunghoon places a hand over his chest. “i greet you and the first thing you ask is where’s your brother.”

riki cackles loudly, so loud that you want to slam his mouth shut and pretend you don’t know him.

“hi park sunghoon,” he greets, extending his hand.

although sunghoon finds the tall boy a bit of a cutie by his baby face, the way he was holding onto your hand made him already seem like a threat, so sunghoon’s expression is pursed into a poker face.

“heeseung is down at the corridor,” sunghoon says, turning back to you. “do you want me to give him that?”

you nod shyly, handing the lunch to sunghoon who smiles. “aish, the kid got into stanford and he’s still making his mom make his lunch?”

you could feel riki’s hand loosen from yours, his attention caught on two students who were currently dancing on the other side of campus.

“be right back!” he exclaims, running off to watch them.

“this jerk,” you whisper underneath your breath, smiling when you make eye contact with sunghoon again.

“he’s quite the character, isn’t he?” sunghoon questions. “who is he?”

he says that in such a bitter taste that makes your stomach flip, wondering why he was suddenly upset.

“nishimura riki, he transferred to hybe high from japan just this year. he’s really sweet but very chaotic.”

“ah,” sunghoon clicks his tongue. “is he your boyfriend?”

your words almost get caught in your throat, obviously shocked by sunghoon’s straightforward question. “what?! no!”

“oh,” he smiles. “that’s good little lee.”

“you should just call me y/n,” you groan. “little lee sounds so stupid.”

“it’s not stupid,” sunghoon says, flicking his hand. “it’s cute.”

“really?”

“like you.”

before you could even process it, riki’s already running back to the two of you, excitedly telling you about the amazing dance program stanford has to offer.

“let’s go! i have to go home and submit an application to stanford!”

sunghoon raises an eyebrow at the excited tall boy who was currently grabbing you, sending you a small wave and smirk when your eyes plead for him to rescue you.

“see you soon little lee.”

“YAH! ARE YOU AN IDIOT?”

“HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU IT WAS AN ACCIDENT?!”

you were currently scolding the japanese boy for ruining your chances with sunghoon earlier.

“it is not my fault lee yn!” he says, puffing out his chest. “plus, the dancers say there’s a party this weekend at stanford and they’ll sneak us in. we have to go, you can see sunghoon hyung again and i can see them!”

you pursed your mouth into a thin line, riki awaiting anxiously for your answer.

“let’s say i do wanna go, heeseung would never let me go to a college party, especially not with a boy like you!”

riki clasps his hand over his chest and pretends to fall over in pain on your bed. “how could you say that?! i’m a great guy. cmon yn, you can’t let your older brother dictate your entire life, you’re 18 now!”

although riki has said a million of stupid things, he was right about this. you were eighteen, and you didn’t need your older brother ruining your chances of getting a boyfriend.

“okay,” you say, watching as riki’s eyes lit up. “let’s go. who are your dancer friends?”

the weekend had came by quicker than you thought, and you waited until heeseung said his goodbyes to you so you could get dressed and do your makeup.

although you didn’t want to go overboard with the whole thing, you still wanted to impress sunghoon, because after all, there would be a bunch of prettier college girls at the party that were smarter than you in everything.

“wow.” nishimura riki’s mouth drops as he sees your dress and face. “you clean up nice lee yn!”

“thanks ri,” you ruffle his hair, which he swats away in annoyance. “let’s go, heeseung’s already there.”

“great, so are my dancer friends!”

the two of you blended in easily, riki’s height doing both of you a favor as you held hands and made your way through the crowd of dancing and drinking college students.

“little lee?” your face bumps into sunghoon’s chest, and you almost gulp when you look up at his height. “what the hell are you doing here?”

“well that’s my queue to leave!” riki chuckles nervously, throwing you a lazy thumbs up as he runs to the drink cooler.

“never will understand that kid.” sunghoon mutters under his breath. “but seriously y/n, it can be dangerous, why are you here?”

it’s the first time in forever that he’s addressed you by your first name, and you can’t help but feel giddy.

overconfident by the drinks you had pregamed with riki previously, you find yourself leaning closer to park sunghoon. “i came here for you.”

he blinks.

“here..” he states, glancing around the party. “for me?”

the confidence wore off in a second. you were now starting to get embarrassed, cursing yourself for saying such things in front of sunghoon who probably didn’t even like you.

“that’s sweet little lee,” he says, eyes crinkling. “but you could get into a lot of trouble if your brother finds you, you know? he already freaks about you enough, finding you at a party at his college at night will kill him at the spot.”

park sunghoon was right, your brother would absolutely rage if he had found out you snuck out to go to a party. in some ways, he was even more strict than your mom.

“hoonie!” the voice of a girl interrupts the both of you as she makes her way over, placing a sloppy kiss against sunghoon’s cheek. she hasn’t said anything to you and you were already starting to see red.

“oh hi! i didn’t see you there!” she extends her hand, grinning from ear to ear. “i’m hanni, president of the pi beta thi sorority!”

you notice sunghoon’s hands finding themselves around her waist. although he’s probably only doing that to stabilize her, you find yourself too jealous to speak.

“hanni, this is lee y/n, heeseung’s sister.”

“oh!” the girl gasps. “oh my gosh, i’ve heard just so much about you! you’re prettier in real life! what are you doing at a college party?”

now you can’t really keep being mad at her because she seems so genuine when she’s complimenting you.

“oh, my friend riki has dancer friends who invited us.” you say awkwardly, watching as sunghoon whispers something in hanni’s ear.

“well that’s awesome, i hope i’m gonna see you here next year!” hanni then waves her hands, parting away from sunghoon. “i’m gonna go say hi to your brother, toodles!”

you watch as she makes her way towards the outside, most likely to the pool. at least you knew where your brother was so you know how to avoid him.

“hanni is really sweet,” sunghoon says as you turn back to face him. “met her a few months ago.”

“oh really,” you say, biting the inside of your cheek. “is she your girlfriend?”

sunghoon laughs as if it’s the funniest thing in the world. “what? no—of course not. she’s just touchy when she’s drunk. she’s dating one of my frat friends, his name is yang jungwon.”

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, happy that sunghoon was still single. after all, hanni was a pretty and nice girl, you wouldn’t be surprised if she was able to pull him.

the two of you stand in silence for a bit, sunghoon staring into your eyes with his dazed eyes. you almost want to pull him in, close the gaps between yours and his lips.

“am i stupid?” he suddenly asks, eyes still in contact with yours.

“no, why would you say that sunghoon?”

“i still like you after all this time. even when i got to college and promised myself i’d find a girlfriend and move on, you’re always still at the back of my mind.”

his confession makes you wonder if you were hallucinating, not believing that the park sunghoon who you’ve been inlove with since childhood was currently telling you he liked you.

“i..” he doesn’t let you say anything else, choosing to lean in and kiss you instead.

it’s all great and feels magical until you’re pulled back harshly, the sound of your brother’s yelling filling your ears.

“LEE Y/N? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING AT A COLLEGE PARTY, AT NIGHT? KISSING SUNGHOON OF ALL PEOPLE? WE’RE GOING HOME!”

you want to cry in embarrassment when you realize everyone has turned their eyes to look at you, and sunghoon throws you a look of guilt and pity when he sees heeseung dragging you away.

“stop it, you’re embarrassing me.” you cry as you’re outside the party.

“me, embarrassing you?” heeseung scoffs, looking up into the sky before looking down at you. “do you know how much you’ve disappointed me tonight? first, you dress up in barely any clothes, then you sneak into a party with some japanese male exchange student, and then you KISSED MY BEST FRIEND?” you close your eyes at heeseung’s yelling, wishing for the earth to swallow you whole.

“what will i do with you?” he grumbles as he drives the two of you home. “you’re lucky mom is out of town for two days. if i drove you home like this, she would kill you. and is that fucking alcohol i smell on you lee y/n?”

you gulp, knowing full well that you probably reeked of alcohol and sunghoon’s cologne at that moment.

“i told you he was a bad influence.” heeseung says as a red light comes up, turning to you as his hands were still on the steering wheel. “he’s going to break your heart and crush it beneath his feet, and who are you gonna come crying to? me. i’ve seen it so many times before y/n, my own girl friends at college have got with sunghoon and all he’s done is crush their souls and spirits. you think you’re any different because he said a few sweet things and kissed you?”

“stop it.” you say, wiping your tears away. “you’re being mean, heeseung.”

“men like him don’t change, y/n. sure, he’s my best friend, but he’s not a good boyfriend. he’ll drop you the second he feels like you’re inconvenient.”

you let out your first sob at night as your brother pulls into your driveway. although he’s still fuming mad at you for going against all his rules, he pulls you into his chest, letting you cry it out as he rubs your back comfortingly.

“are you okay?” is the first thing nishimura riki says when he sees you at school, frowning at your bloodshot eyes. “i saw you get dragged away by heeseung hyung yesterday night. it was really loud.”

“gee, thanks.” you scowl at him, making him raise his hands in surrender.

“if it makes you feel better, sunghoon wanted to speak to you.”

your head suddenly peeks up at this, and riki almost laughs by how easily he could change your mood.

“really? even after last night?”

“mhm.” riki stabs a fork into his mashed potatoes. “but he didn’t look so happy, so if you end up crying after, i have ice cream at my house.”

you let out a laugh at the boy’s words, silently thanking the world for giving you such an unserious best friend.

and just like riki had said earlier, park sunghoon was waiting in front of your house by the time you got home.

“hey.” he says, hands in pocket.

“hey.”

“about last night,” he seems to be looking everywhere but you. “i’m really sorry about your brother.”

“it’s fine.” you say, shrugging. “he was just being overprotective as usual.”

“yeah.” sunghoon steps closer cautiously. “i meant what i said, you know. about me liking you.”

“sunghoon, i like you too.”

he nods slowly, expression still glum. “that’s the problem though. we cant be together, y/n, you know that, right?”

“why?” you breathe out. “because you want to keep playing girls at your college?”

his eyebrows furrow deeply. “what? no? i’m just—i can’t be with you!” he steps backwards. “i’ll ruin your life, you said it yourself, i play girls at stanford. what’s to say i wont do the same to you?”

“i have known you since you were 10 sunghoon!” you say, throwing up your hands exasperated. “i know you can change for the better. i won’t let you go away this easily, not when i’ve spent my entire life loving you.”

“really?” sunghoon whispers, eyes teary. “you’ve spent your entire life loving me?”

“i have.” you walk up to sunghoon, cupping his face into your hands. “and i’ll love you for my next life if i have to.”

he laughs quietly, head tilting as he admired your face.

“little lee,” he says softly. “you really are a gem, aren’t you?”

park sunghoon being park sunghoon doesn’t let you reply to his words, instead shutting you up with a long kiss on the lips.

“wow.” you say as you pull away, making the older boy giggle. “lee heeseung is so gonna kill the both of us after the life lecture he gave me last night.”

“can’t kill me if i move away to antarctica.” sunghoon smirks, watching as your expression changes in a millisecond.

“YAH PARK SUNGHOON! YOU ARE NOT MOVING ANTARCTICA AFTER JUST CONFESSING TO ME!”

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aesthetic-babyyy · 6 months

Text

The big question- Sam Winchester imagine

Warnings// smut, smut oh and more smut

Word count// 3665

(Gif from Pinterest)

Sam and you had been together for 2 years, you met while in your first day of Stanford, you sat at the back of the lecture hall with not knowing anyone you eddies to take the seat furthest away from the rest of the class, and you say there alone for all of 5 minutes before the seat next to you was being taken by a tall handsome stranger, the handsome man turned to you smiling placing his hand out "hi I'm Sam" you shook his hand returning his smile "I'm Y/N"

"You not much of a people person either?" Sam joked at the difference of where you two were say 4 rows behind you chatting classmates "definitely not, I don't really know anyone here yet other than my roommate" you said taking notes of what the professor had written on the board "well I guess you know me now too" was he flirting?, you turned to face him giving him a small smirk "I guess I do" am thought for a second before speaking again "so now that we're friends, what do you say I take you out for dinner say around 6 o clock? I could even take you to see a movie after" okay he was definitely flirting with you

Your cheeks were burning red, you definitely didn't expect to get a date on your first day of college "yeah it's a date" Sam nodded finding it hard to contain his own smile, he's not usually this straight forward especially when it comes to pretty girls, once the class was over you and Sam walked to exit to head to your next classes which unfortunately were not together as you've discovered "can I have your number? I can call you later so we can meet up tonight?" Sam questioned scratching the back of his neck awkwardly "yea definitely" you said taking out a pen to write on his notebook (xx xxx xxx xxx) "perfect I'll call you after my last class" Sam said tucking his notebook back under his arm

"I gotta get going room 336 is across campus" you said moving to walk to your class "Y/N wait!" Sam jogged slightly over to you "yeah?" Sam looked to the ground suddenly finding the ground very interesting "how about I walk you to your class" you smiled up at him "I'd really like that Sam" needless to say the date went amazing, Sam sweeper you right off your feet, you guys were dating for around a year when he asked you to move in with him, he had his own apartment since his roommate Louis moved out 3 months prior, of course you said yes and you guys couldn't have been happier, getting to wake up to the man you loved everyday as falling asleep next to him was thrilling.

Things has been going great for you guys since you moved in together a year ago, Sam was the perfect roommate and boyfriend, he never left his dirty laundry litter the floor, he never ate the last of your food, something you were very thankful for because your last roommate wasn't so respectful, and even if he did he replaced it before you noticed which wanted your heart and you always made sure to thank him in only a way you could, you guys rarely fought which was great and even when you guys had your stupid arguments that made you give each other the silent treatment, the make up sex made it so worth it,

Lately however, Sam had been acting strange, starting to become more secretive, you trusted Sam immensely so you knew he wasn't cheating on you, however the secrets were getting concerning, deciding to push it to the back of your head and just give him time, Sam would come talk to you when he was ready, like every Friday you finished your last class earlier than sam so you decided to go grocery shopping and head back to the apartment.

You were home an hour later, however Sam still had one more class so he wouldn't be home for another hour at most so once you put the grocery's away you laid down on the couch deciding to watch crappy TV till your boyfriend got home, tonight was takeout night so you decided to text Sam to see what he was thinking for tonight, surprisingly he replied pretty fast considering he was still in class 'what if we went out to that new restaurant tonight? I was gonna call and make reservations after I get out of professor Xs class' giggling at Sam's attempt to joke you started to feel excited, you guys hadn't been out in a while, loving the company of each other on the comfort of your own couch every night instead

'that sounds incredible baby what time?' You texted back and again within seconds, like it was already typed and ready Sam replied '8:30pm?' Considering it was 4:30pm you decided to take a shower, you sent Sam a quick text of approval before moving to the bathroom and taking a quick everything shower.

Once the clock hit 5:30pm you had finally dried your hair from the shower and curled it, still wearing your shower robe when you heard the front door open and shut "Y/N I'm home" god you didn't think you would ever get tired of hearing that, rushing out to greet your boyfriend, when you got to the kitchen Sam was placing his laptop bag on the kitchen counter, smiling you walk over to him Sam waiting for you with his arms open, wrapping your arms around your giant boyfriends neck to hug him, his own hands wrapping around your waist, now something you have always loved about hugging Sam, he always ended up picking you up and holding you close to him, like his own little koala

This hug was no different, Sam was lifting you off your feet, your legs wrapping around his waist, Sam leaned in the kiss you, you returned the kiss, moaning when moved his hands to the hem of your robe, running them up you legs and straight to your ass, squeezing your ass and pulling you closer to him so your bare heat was pressing against his deliciously cold belt buckle, you moaned rolling your hips to hit your clit either right pressure, Sam's hands squeezed hard as you opened your lips moaning his name, Sam took advantage of this as he slipped his tongue into the kiss, you fought for dominance over the kiss but there's not much Sam's tongue can loose too... especially when he's always practicing with it

Pulling away from the kids and stopping your actions "wait Sammy" you said pressing your hand on his shoulder "everything okay?" He asked panicked, you giggled "of course baby i just think we should save this for later" you smirked kissing his freshly shaven cheek "yeah your right" he said sitting you down on the kitchen counter next to his laptop case "so what's got you wanting to go out all of a sudden?" You were curious, normally you guys talked about dates, unless it's for birthdays or anniversary's "well Matt was talking about it saying the food there was great and I thought I should surprise you with a night out" Sam said kissing you once again, only this time it was a sweet kiss "your the best Sammy I love you so much" Sam have you a final kiss before pulling away giving you a smile "I love you more baby"

While Sam was taking a shower you decided do your make up, keeping it very simple as you were never one to do a bold eye, you put on some red lipstick to finish it off moving to your closet to pull on a black lace strapless bra and matching panties, you pulled on your red mini dress, you decided to pair the look with a pair of black stilettos and a black leather jacket to match your dress, Sam walked into your shared bedroom a towel gun loosely on his hips, his toned chest still dripping wet from the shower "you look beautiful Y/N" Sam said staring at you completely starstruck

Your turned giving your boyfriend a bright smile "thanks sweetie", Sam got dressed into a paris of black slacks and a dressy shirt, he styled his hair slightly, by the time you guys were finished getting ready it was 8:00pm, you made your way out to Sam's car to go to the restaurant. Sam parked the car and got out the drivers seat rushing over to open your door, extending his arm to you to help you out "what's for you being so gentlemanly tonight?" You asked linking your arm through his "I just want to make up for not taking you out regularly, your so beautiful I need to be showing you off every damn chance I get"

You giggled as you guys made it to the restaurant doors, Sam held the door open for you and you both walked up to the reception desk "hi we have a reservation for Winchester" the man nodded "of course and Winchester your table is ready, if you and the lovely lady can follow me please", the waiter said leading f you and Sam to your table, Sam pulled your chair out for you and once you were seated Sam sat on his own seat, the waiter placed two large menus on your table "would either of you like to order a drink?" Sam nodded "yes please, can I get a whiskey soda and can my girlfriend get a martini" the waiter nodded writing both drinks orders down "of course sir, they'll be right out" the waiter said walking towards the bar

"Wow Sam this place looks amazing" you said looking around the warm lit room seeing how crowded it was "yeah I've heard great reports from the place, so i though you and I should be the real judges of that" Sam said making you giggle, skimming through the menu you decided to order the chicken Parmesan with a side of fries, Sam decided on the steak, also with a side of fries, Sam and you made small chit chat about each others days as you waited for your food, which didn't take very long.

Both of you had cleared your plates "wow they weren't lying this place is amazing" you said placing your fork back on the empty plate "yeah it was incredible, we'll definitely be back here". "Can I interest you both on our desert menu, our chefs special tonight is the chocolate fudge cake infused with caramel filling and vanilla ice cream" that sounded incredible, Sam who was always able to read your mind was already ordering 2 of the chefs special, "I'm gonna run to the bathroom I'll be right back" Sam said, his voice coming out rushed, before you could ask if he was alright he was already heading to the bathroom's, you decided to brush it off maybe he had to pee really bad?

When Sam came back from the bathroom his demeanour was still the same, he looked around the restaurant anxious, once the waiter had came with your deserts he sat it down in front of both of you, you thanked the waiter, turning back to grab your spoon when you caught a glimpse of shine coming from your cake, confused you took a closer look, that's when you it... there was a ring on your cake a beautiful princess cut ring surrounded by little diamond, you breath hitched in your throat as tears tan down your face, when you looked back to Sam he was in front of you now, down on his knee, he took your hands in his, by now the whole restaurant was silent just watching you both in the most special moment of your life "Y/N, the second I laid eyes on you I knew you were special, after our first date I knew how right I was, your smart, kind and the most beautiful women in the world, your everything I have ever wanted and more, I could never imagine a life without you, you’re the reason I wake up smiling everyday because I get to wake up to you every morning I love you so much beautiful, will you marry me?” By the end of Sam’s speech you were in tear you let out a shaky breath “hell yeah I’ll marry you!” You cried reaching forward placing both hands on Sam’s face pulling him into a soft kiss

Once Sam pulled away he gently grabbed the ring giving it a quick clean, “you’ll be needing this” Sam chuckled as he took your left hand in his, he gently placed the ring on your finger officially making you an engaged women, the restaurant erupted into cheers for you both in celebrations.

Once you and Sam had left the restaurant you guys were on your way home as fiancés “i can’t stop smiling oh my god” you said holding your left hand in front of you as Sam drove “I’ve had that ring for a couple weeks now I just could figure out how to propose but I couldn’t hold it in anymore” Sam said as he pulled into your apartments parking lot. Walking up to your door Sam was picking you up bridal style making you squeal and grab him for balance “gotta start practicing carrying you over the threshold” Sam opened the door walking you both in before turning to lock up for the night, he started to walk you both to the bedroom playing with his slightly long hair “can’t wait to get you fiancé to bed huh” you joked

Sam chuckled dropping you gently to the bed “I’m so happy I can finally call you my fiancé now” Sam said gently taking your shoes off, his hands running up your legs, he went under the red dress pulling the black lace off your legs, Sam scrunched your dress up under your ass presenting your bare pussy In front him, the air making you clench at nothing, Sam smirked as he snaked his arms around your legs as he roughly pulled you to the end of the bed, you felt his hot breath against your core making you moan softly

Sam leaned in licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit to test the waters, when your body responded with your hand in his hair pushing him closer to you, Sam smirked against you as he got to work, Sam started fucking his tongue in and out of your right hole as his nose pressed against your clit making you see stars, you ran your hand through Sam’s hair your hips rolling against the movements of Sam’s tongue, Sam inserted his long thick finger inside of you, curling to hit your G spot with every thrust as he loved his mouth to your clit flicking it and sucking it into his hot mouth, once Sam added another finger it wasn’t long till you were chanting his name “oh my hod Sammy, I’m gonna come” you croaked out as you came hard on his tongue

Sam worked you through orgasm, pulling away from between your shaky legs he stood pulling his clothes off leaving him complete bare in front of you, you smirked moving to crawl towards him on weak legs, you stopped at his cock, his tip red and pre fun leaking from it, you wrapped your small hand around his big thick shaft moving your hand up and down at a slow pace to tease him, you went to take him into your mouth but Sam stopped you “tonight is all about you Y/N” Sam said grabbing the hem of your dress and pulling it off, leaving you in only your black lace bra, Sam grabbed the front of it tearing it off exposing your bare chest to him “oh fuck” you were dripping at this point wanting him to do something

Sam got the hint getting on top of you, he eased you back down on the bed, he leaned in to kiss you nipping at your bottom lip for entrance which was soon granted, Sam explored every inch of your mouth with his tongue, you moaned at the fact you could still taste yourself on his tongue, Sam moved the kissed down your neck sucking at your pulse point “please fuck me sam” you begged dying to feel the familiar stretch of his cock, sam chuckled moving his kiss down to your breast giving your nipple a playful bite, you arched your back at the feeling wrapping your legs around his hips, sam grabbed his shaft rubbing it up and down your folds coating his in your juices he groaned pressing his tip to your entrance,

Sam started to push his cock inside you inch by inch, not stopping until he bottomed out “you feel so fucking good baby” sam groaned as he started thrusting slowly to get you ready,”faster Sammy please” you begged so Sam grabbed your thighs, pushing them against your chest so your legs were over his shoulders, giving him the perfect angle to but your special spot, Sam pulled almost all the way out before slamming back inside you “oh fuck Sam!” You screamed in pleasure, Sam continued his pace the only sounds on the room that could be heard were moans and skin slapping skin “I’m not gonna last much longer” Sam groaned out “me either baby” Sam moved his hand down to your pussy and started to rub your clit to stimulate you “oh god I’m gonna cum” you screamed your head slamming against the pillow, Sam started to thrust into you even fast than before his fingers still rubbing your clit, you came in an instant, squirting all over Sam’s cock, that sent Sam over the edge as cam in spurts inside you “that was so fucking hot” Sam said his hips finally coming to a stop

he pulled out of you gently as he collapsed beside you pulling your sweaty body against his you leaned your head on his toned chest as you slowed your breathing, you couldn’t stop staring at the beautiful ring that now decorated your hand “I can’t believe we’re engaged” you said looking up at Sam who was already smiling down at you, “I know me either but I’m so glad you said yes” Sam grabbed your newly decorated hand in his as you both drifted to a sound sleep wrapped in your fiancés strong arms

You woke a few hours later to Sam still sound asleep, smirking you moved slowly out of his heaps as not to wake him just yet as you straddled him, his morning wood pressed against your core making you shudder, you leaned forward kissing his neck sucking a deep hickey under his jaw, Sam stirred as he slowly opened his eyes, smiling he wrapped his arms around your waist holding you close to him, pulling away from his neck you leaned in to cover his mouth with your own, sliding your tongue into his mouth, you and Sam continued to make out lazily

You began rubbing your folds over his erect penis, pulling away after a few moments you held his cock in your hand rubbing up and down jerking him off slightly “Y/N please” Sam moaned his hand’s gripping your waist tightly, “you want me to ride you handsome?”

You asked continuing to jerk him off “fuck yes!” You smirked as you hovered your dripping hole over Sam’s cock moaning Sam’s name as you say on him

Once Sam was fully inside of you, you began to bounce on his cock Sam groaned his hands moved to your ass gripping hard as helped you move up and down his length “oh god Sammy” you moaned as your breast bounced along with your motions, Sam was in a trance as he leaned forward taking your breast into his mouth sucking and biting before moving to your next breast repeating his actions

You soon felt your orgasms approaching “you gonna come Sammy” you teased knowing he was holding back, Sam took you by surprise gently pulling you off his shaft, he turned you around so you were on your hands and knees, Sam was behind you in seconds pushing his length inside you once more, he bottomed out against your ass, he was always able get deeper inside you when he took you from behind, Sam started to trust inside you at fast punishing pace “harder please” you begged your hands clenching the bedsheets so hard your knuckles were turning white

Sam obeyed instantly, he leaned forward his chest pressed against your back his hands moving to hold your breasts in his big hands as he started slamming his length inside your pussy, you screamed as Sam continued to thrust inside you as hard as he could until he was about to finish “cum with me gorgeous” Sam said as he squeezed your breasts his hips still going as hard as before, you obeyed and came with a scream of your fiancés name, clenching your pussy around his length pushing Sam to his end unleashing hot sports of cum inside you, Sam eventually pulled out and pulled you back to your previous position from last night, wrapped in his arms

Sam leaned over to kiss the top of your head, “well that was quite the wake up call” Sam joked smiling against your hair, giggling you place you ring hand on his chest “I wanted to wake my future husband up with a bang” you joked “well you certainly succeeded… i can’t wait to call you my wife Y/n” Sam said holding you closer to him “me either Sammy” you said closing your eyes and falling into a peaceful morning nap with your new fiancé, soon to be husband.

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 6 months

Text

Caretaker

Castiel & Winchester!reader (platonic)

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: You get to meet everyone’s favorite Angel, and the two of you become besties.

Warnings: kinda strays from canon in places, I don’t have the episodes memorized guys.

“You take care of her, ok?”

Up to this point, Castiel hadn’t taken much notice of the youngest Winchester; she wasn’t one of the vessels, so she was in no danger, and of little importance.

But at Dean’s words, Cas finally seemed to see you. You were just a kid, growing up around so much danger. And now Dean was placing you in his care.

“I will,” he promised both Dean and himself.

You didn’t say a word as Dean and Sam left. You understood why they had to go, and you had to stay; they were trying to hide from Michael and Lucifer long enough to formulate a plan, but if they were found, you would be a liability. You knew Castiel was the most capable being to protect you, but seeing as you didn’t know Cas very well, you weren’t exactly comfortable with this arrangement.

You didn’t know when you would see your big brothers again; aside from hell and Stanford, rarely had a day gone by where you weren’t with Sam and Dean.

“So what now?” You asked finally, and Castiel seemed to snap out of his daze.

“Now I take you somewhere safe.”

…

The day passed uneventfully, which Cas took as a good sign. What wasn’t a good sign was the fact that Cas couldn’t think of a single thing to say to you, and he could tell the silence was making you antsy. Well, that and the fact that your brothers were on the run from two archangels.

He found a motel in the middle of nowhere to stop at, and he waited rather impatiently while you got some sleep. The further he could get you from Sam and Dean, the safer you would be, but Dean had decided non-angelic modes of travel were safer, as archangels weren’t that familiar with backroads and crappy motels.

Cas woke you up early, surprised when you seemed exhausted—wasn’t four hours enough? That’s what Dean claimed he got. You followed Cas regardless, although your eyes were drooping before he even started the car.

For the next several hours, Cas couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that he was forgetting something. He kept doing a mental checklist—he had you, you’d slept, you’d showered, you had your phone, you had extra clothes—but it did nothing to rid him of the feeling. The last thing he wanted was to mess this up, the boys had been so reluctant to part from you. What was he doing wrong?

“Castiel?”

Cas turned his head to look at you when you spoke. He had barely heard you, as you spoke slightly above a whisper, your voice timid and hesitant. Were you scared of him?

“What is it?” He asked.

“I—um…I-I know we’re in a hurry, but, um…could we get some food?”

Oh no.

“I knew I forgot something,” Cas hissed under his breath, sighing in annoyance. You, who hadn’t been able to make out his words and only saw the annoyance, instantly backed off.

“I-I mean if there isn’t time I-“

“No, no,” Cas insisted. “Of course we have time, you need to eat. I’m sorry, I forgot.” A thought crossed Cas’s mind. “Did you eat yesterday?”

“Um…no,” you replied, still timid.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I-I didn’t want…um, I know that you’re-you’re trying to help me get away so-so I, um…”

You seemed unable to form full sentences, and Cas once again wondered what he was doing wrong to make you so nervous.

“If you need anything, I want you to ask,” Cas interrupted.

You just nodded and went back to looking out the window. Once Cas got you fed and back on the road, he made himself a promise. He had to do better, even though it was awkward and he had no clue how to talk to you. Clearly the silence of the last two days had made you nervous, so intimidated by the angel protecting you that you didn’t even want to communicate basic needs.

“I’m sure we’ll have you back to your brothers in no time,” Cas began.

You smiled weakly at him. “Yeah. And you can get back to your angel stuff.” You ducked your head suddenly. “I’m-I’m sorry you got stuck babysitting. I know you’d rather be finding a way to defeat Lucifer and Michael with Sam and Dean.”

Cas was silent for a few seconds.

“Well, it’s true I would like to help them. But keeping you safe is more important.”

You scoffed, “Me? Why?”

Cas was surprised. “We all care about you. We don’t want you caught in the crossfire.”

“And why would an Angel care what happens to me?”

“Because you’re my friend.”

That brought you up short.

“I…I am?”

“Of course.”

“I-I thought…” again you were unable to look at Cas. “I-I just kinda thought that you agreed to this to placate Sam and Dean…be-because you need them on your side.”

Cas wasn’t sure whether to feel bad for you or be offended. “You thought that?” He could tell that his hurt was bleeding into his tone. You noticed it too.

“I-I mean you’re an angel,” you quickly explained. “You have way more important things to worry about than me.”

“So…so you thought that I didn’t care about you…and you didn’t blame me for it?”

You just shrugged.

Cas didn’t know what to say. He most certainly couldn’t just fix your self image issues, he wasn’t equipped for that, but he could at least assure you of one thing.

“Well it’s not true. I do care about you, and that’s why I’m here. I want you to be safe.”

You didn’t respond, but Cas could see the smile you were trying to hide.

…

Something clicked after that. Cas didn’t know what it was, or how it happened, but suddenly the awkward silence between the two of you disappeared, replaced by non-stop conversation.

He told you all about heaven and some angels that had been his friends, you told him all about your human experience, and explained to him some general human things that he still hadn’t managed to grasp.

“So…tweeting is no longer just about birds?”

“Nope, now it’s an internet thing. I don’t think we should get you into that, though.”

“That’s probably wise,” Castiel agreed.

…

All too soon, things changed again. After a couple of weeks on the run, you again became withdrawn and quiet. A whole day went by without a single word spoken before Cas finally decided to address the issue.

“You’ve been quiet.”

“Yeah.”

When it became clear that this was the only answer Cas would get, he persisted.

“What’s the matter?”

“I’m worried,” you sighed. “And I…I miss Sam and Dean.” Cas heard the strain in your voice when you mentioned your brothers.

“They’re fine, they called just last night. I’m sure you’ll see them again soon.”

“It’s been weeks, Cas, and we’re no closer to an answer. It’s starting to seem like…like we’re just gonna run until we burn out.”

“You can’t think like that,” Cas said.

“Why not, if it’s true?”

“It’s not,” Cas insisted. “We have to have faith.”

“In what?”

“In Sam and Dean. We—you have to trust that they’ll to anything—anything—to get back to you. They’ll find a way, and you’ll see them again soon.” Cas promised as he pulled the car into yet another motel. He stepped out, and you with him. You were quiet for a minute before—

“Hey…hey Cas?”

“Yeah?”

You hesitated, staring at the angel for a moment before making a decision. You lunged forwards, wrapping your arms around your new best friend.

“Thanks.”

Castiel smiled as he brought his arms around you, holding you as though he could hug away all your worries and loneliness.

“Of course, little one.”

#castiel #spn cas #spn Castiel #castiel & reader #castiel x reader #castiel x winchester!reader #Castiel & Winchester reader #castiel & winchester!reader #castiel Novak #supernatural #dean winchester #dean and sam #supernatural dean #the winchesters #sam winchester #winchesters x sister

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1for5 · 14 days

Text

yes im changing

paige bueckers x reader

(paige x uconn psychology student!reader)

synopsis: with y/n being in a new environment, still facing rejection, how can she bounce back?

masterlist

chapter 6

“what the fuck is your problem?”

“no need to get all sensitive babe” paige scoffed. y/n disliking on paige grew more.

the team got back to the parking lot, and bid their goodbyes. y/n was with kk and aubrey inside the car. “hey, you alright?” kk asked y/n. “oh yeah im okay” y/n replied. “we are sorry about paige, she isn’t like that. we’ll look more into this when we can.. just let us know if you’re okay or not y/n” aubrey apologized. “no need to aubrey, it’s fine” y/n thanked the two.

on another car, a similar conversation was going on. “what is on with you paige” azzi asked. “yeah, you are not like that” nika agreed. “it just feels weird when she is there” paige explained. nika and azzi sighed and started to give their own lectures to paige going back to the dorms.

everyone’s car arrived at the same time at the college parking lot, and the team bid their goodbyes.

after a long saturday, y/n was glad that it was sunday, she could have her own time by herself. she first got up out of her bed, and put on casual clothes.

she got out of her dorm, and headed for the nearest cafeteria for a good breakfast meal. she was eating her meal, enjoying, until a blonde figure walks by her. “well well well, its too early for an eye sore” paige said as she walked.

“bitch” y/n whispered, but not quiet enough for paige to not hear it. “nerd” paige snickered back. as if that’s supposed to be a negative comment? y/n thought. the two then continued on with their own activities.

their childish actions to each other didn’t stop, that was only the start of paige and y/n’s nonstop bickerings and “pranks” to each other. after a month, the two grew closer, specifically in the “dislike” aspect. the following are just some of the instances of when y/n and paige were messing around.

1. aubrey asks y/n to bring her basketball shoes to the court. aubrey forgot her shoes, and y/n brought it to her. the team said their hellos, and paige made a mean comment—obviously. “if it isn’t stanford girl, oh wait.. you didn’t get in right?” paige commented. “oh if it isn’t the number one star of wbb.. oh wait? you’re number 2!” y/n replied back.

2. during their study sessions for y/n’s research, y/n saw that paige was struggling with chemistry. “can’t believe student 3.9 gpa can’t do simple molarity problems..” y/n made fun of paige.

3. y/n brings gatorade for the team, but doesn’t give paige.

4. paige hide’s y/n’s wbb files, only to put it back in her bag after 30 minutes. paige just loves seeing y/n pissed.

5. “this is why you will never get a gf!” “you too!”

6. kk was non-formally interviewing the team for the media. when kk asked y/n who on the team would she not let her son/daughter date, y/n answered “paige,” and when kk asked paige who has the best music taste, paige answered “definitely not that researcher who’s always with the team..”

after their endless interactions, the whole team at that point didn’t know if both were friends or not. they all got pissed by it, but they just got used to it after awhile.

on a friday night, the team and y/n were given tickets by coach geno to a football game, he gave them their training session to watch something fun as a reward for their hardwork. geno had an extra ticket and gave it to y/n as she’s always around doing her research, and wanted to give her some time for a night out too.

everyone was estatic and thanked the man. the game starts at 7pm, and the time said 5pm, which gives them enough time to get ready for the game. with this, the members all agreed to wear something casual instead of just their basketball oufit. they headed back to their dorms to get ready.

when everyone was in the dorms, y/n has a small problem. she wanted to wear a shirt that says uconn.. but she doesn’t have any. she wanted to feel that “school spirit,” and a football game always brings out the fun school spirits of students.

she asked aubrey if she could borrow and luckily aubrey gave her a shirt. it was a navy blue shirt that simply said uconn at the front.

it was 6pm, just in time to go to the game venue. all the uconn players and y/n got out of their dorms and headed for the football field.

when they arrived, many people looked at the team’s way, some screaming different names. but y/n heard a statement wherein she felt curious as to why someone has said that.

“is paige bueckers dating someone? look at that girl in navy!”

she wondered why, but shrugged it off eventually when they got into the open field. they got to their seats. y/n was beside kk, ice, q, and aubrey, while the others are in the back.

the team members at the back looked at y/n and started to laugh, teasing paige. “are you guys really dating? was the enemy thing just a stunt?” curiousity is growing on nika.

paige ignored her teammates’ questions and comments, and decided to make fun of y/n.

“you know y/n, at this point i just think that you have a liking for me. if not then.. why is my name and jersey number at the back of your shirt?”

zo’s notes: i hope the pacing and plot is okay UHHHHH i apologize 😕

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x reader #wlw

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doctorbitchcrxft · 2 months

Text

Wendigo | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, Dean's a dick but so is the reader

Word Count: 8817

A/N: Happy Saturday! Enjoy the next chapter!! Taglist/Requests are open!!

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You were curled up against the backseat of the Impala writing in your journal and humming along to Dean’s Foreigner cassette tape when Sam jerked awake in the front seat. You jerked up as well, concerned.

Dean shot his brother a worried look. “You okay?”

Sam blinked and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, I'm fine.”

“Bull. Nightmare?” you asked.

The younger brother just cleared his throat in response.

“You wanna drive for a while?” Dean asked.

You and Sam gave him an incredulous look.

“Dean, your whole life you never once asked me that,” he laughed.

“Just thought you might want to. Never mind.” He rolled his eyes and returned them to the road.

“Look, man, you’re worried about me,” Sam sighed. “I get it, and thank you, but I'm perfectly okay.”

His brother just hummed in response.

“I’ll take you up on that driving offer, though,” you chimed in.

“Not a chance, sweetheart.”

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

“And I told you I wasn’t listening.”

“Dick.”

Dean just scoffed in response.

Sam’s unfolding of a map brought the conversation back on track. “All right, where are we?”

“Just outside of Grand Junction,” you answered. You leaned over his shoulder and pointed at the spot labeled “Grand Junction” and drew a trail with your finger over to a spot labeled with the coordinates Dean had found in John’s journal.

Sam hesitated before speaking again. “You know what? Maybe we shouldn't have left Stanford so soon.”

Dean shook his head. “Sam, we dug around there for a week. We came up with nothing. If you wanna find the thing that killed Jessica—”

“We gotta find Dad first,” Sam finished.

“Dad disappearing and this thing showing up again after twenty years, it's no coincidence.”

“Wait, showing up again?” you asked. Even after poking around at Stanford, this was the first you’d heard of a previous encounter with the creature.

“I thought Sam would’ve told you,” Dean said.

“Told me what?”

Sam turned to face you. “You remember what I said about my mom dying? She died the same way Jess did.”

You nodded in solemn understanding.

The car went quiet again; the silence only broken by the older brother. “Dad will have answers. He'll know what to do.”

Sam scanned the map again. “It's weird, man. These coordinates he left us. This Blackwater Ridge.”

“What about it?” you asked, putting your chin on Sam’s shoulder to look at the map.

“There's nothing there. It's just woods.” He put down the map, looking past your head at Dean. “Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?”

Dean just shrugged in response.

The three of you found yourselves in a ranger’s station in Lost Creek National Forest just outside of Blackwater Ridge. You and Sam scanned a three-dimensional map of the forest atop a large table in the center of the room.

“So Blackwater Ridge is pretty remote.” The brunet tapped his finger against the ridge’s label on the map. “It's cut off by these canyons here, rough terrain, dense forest, abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place.”

However, his brother’s attention could not be pulled away from a picture on the wall. “Dude, check out the size of this freaking bear.”

You walked over to him, and he was right. The thing was massive. The man standing behind its corpse looked like a dwarf in comparison.

“There’s about a dozen or so grizzlies in the area,” you added.

You and the boys were startled by a ranger’s voice coming from behind you. “You three aren't planning on going out near Blackwater Ridge by any chance?”

“Oh, no, sir, we're environmental study majors from UC Boulder, just working on a paper,” Sam assured him, laughing awkwardly.

Dean grinned and raised a fist. “Recycle, man.”

‘I could hit him. Jackass.’

The ranger obviously did not believe him. “Bull.”

Your eyes flicked to Dean, who was unmoving.

“You're friends with that Haley girl, right?” the ranger continued.

“Yes. Yes, we are, Ranger— Wilkinson.” Dean faltered only to read the ranger’s name tag.

“Well I will tell you exactly what we told her. Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying he wouldn't be back from Blackwater until the twenty-fourth, so it's not exactly a missing persons now, is it?”

You shook your head.

“You tell that girl to quit worrying, I'm sure her brother's just fine.”

“We will.” Dean paused only for a moment. “Well, that Haley girl's quite a pistol, huh?”

“That is putting it mildly.”

You laughed. ‘I’m sure we’d get along great.’

“Actually,” Dean stopped the ranger from leaving the room. “You know what would help is if I could show her a copy of that backcountry permit. You know, so she could see her brother's return date.”

The ranger eyed Dean curiously, but still got him a copy of the permit.

Dean laughed smugly as the three of you left the station, waving the paper around.

“What are you, five?” you asked him.

“Listen, sweetheart, I consider this a major success.” You quirked a brow at him, mildly annoyed he called you that stupid name again. “This eliminates a lot of the groundwork we normally have to do.”

“Fair point,” you shrugged.

Sam broke the somewhat comfortable silence. “Are you cruising for a hookup or something?”

Considering the thought you’d just had, you were taken slightly aback. “What do you mean?”

“The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge, so what are we waiting for? Let's just go find Dad. I mean, why even talk to this girl?” Sam was more talking pointedly at Dean and not you. You came to a stop on your respective sides of the Impala.

You couldn’t quite see Dean over the top of the car. “I don't know, maybe we should know what we're walking into before we actually walk into it?”

You could practically feel the look Dean was giving Sam.

“What?” the brunet scoffed.

“Since when are you all shoot-first-ask-questions-later, anyway?”

“Since now.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, biting the inside of your lip. “Really?’ you muttered, getting down into the car.

***

Sam walked a little further up the walkway to the Collins house than you and Dean did.

“Forty-five minutes in that copy room for this?” you inspected Dean’s small, fake park ranger ID.

“Can’t rush art, sweetheart.”

“Now you’re just working it into every sentence because you know it aggravates me.”

"Yup,” Dean chuckled.

You smirked lopsidedly and Dean knocked on Haley Collins’s front door. A quite beautiful, dark-haired girl opened it moments later.

“You must be Haley Collins. I'm Dean, this is Sam, and (Y/N), we're, ah, we're rangers with the Park Service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over. He wanted us to ask a few questions about your brother Tommy.”

Haley hesitated. “Lemme see some ID.”

Dean held up the ID you’d previously been inspecting to the screen door. The girl looked between the ID and Dean.

“Come on in.”

“Thanks.”

The door swung open, allowing Haley to catch a glimpse of the Impala. “That yours?”

“Yeah.”

“Nice car.” She began leading the three of you into the home.

Dean looked back at Sam, mouthing something excitedly to him that you couldn’t quite make out. You rolled your eyes. You decided then and there you would push your attraction to him to the side for the rest of the time you were working with the brothers. To you, he was just an asshole playboy.

Sam’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. “So if Tommy's not due back for a while, how do you know something's wrong?”

You took in the sight of the table set for dinner and a young boy who looked to be about thirteen already picking at his plate of food.

Haley entered the room with a bowl and placed it onto the table. “He checks in every day by cell. He emails, photos, stupid little videos—we haven't heard anything in over three days now.”

“Well, maybe he can't get cell reception,” you suggested.

“He's got a satellite phone, too.”

‘Well, there goes that theory.’

“Could it be he's just having fun and forgot to check in?” Dean threw in.

The teenage boy clanked his fork against his plate, sharply stating, “He wouldn't do that.”

You eyed the boy, getting a read on him.

“Our parents are gone,” Haley said. “It's just my two brothers and me. We all keep pretty close tabs on each other.”

You nodded in understanding. As much as you were trying to dislike her, it wasn’t working all that well.

“Can I see the pictures he sent you?” Sam asked.

Haley pulled out her laptop to show Sam the folder of pictures and videos her brother had sent her. “That's Tommy.” You could hear the sadness in her voice.

She clicked through to the most recent video.

A scruffy, presumably twenty-five year old man appeared onscreen. “Hey Haley, day six, we're still out near Blackwater Ridge. We're fine, keeping safe, so don't worry, okay? Talk to you tomorrow.”

Something flickered past outside the young man’s tent. Your brows furrowed.

“Well, we'll find your brother. We're heading out to Blackwater Ridge first thing,” Dean assured her.

“Then maybe I'll see you there,” she answered. “Look, I can't sit around here anymore. So I hired a guy. I'm heading out in the morning, and I'm gonna find Tommy myself.”

“I think I know how you feel.”

Your eyes flicked over to Dean, growing angry at what you assumed to be an attempt at seducing the girl.

‘She’s mourning the potential loss of her brother, and you’re gonna try and charm her? Asshole.’

The younger Winchester once again broke you out of your thoughts. “Hey, do you mind forwarding these to me?”

“Sure.” Haley clicked away on her laptop again.

***

You and the boys wound up at a bar. The table was covered in newspapers, John’s journal, and beer bottles; some full and some half empty.

“So, Blackwater Ridge doesn't get a lot of traffic. Local campers, mostly. But still, this past April, two hikers went missing out there. They were never found.”

You gestured to John’s journal, which Sam slid over to you. You began flipping through it.

“Any before that?” Dean asked.

Sam pulled out a newspaper to show his brother. “Yeah, in 1982, eight different people all vanished in the same year. Authorities said it was a grizzly attack.”

You leaned across the table, squinting at the headline. You felt Dean’s eyes flick to your breasts that had subsequently been pushed up in your wife beater as you leaned over.

You glared at him. “Stay focused, Winchester.”

Dean rolled his eyes, apparently unable to find his way to a witty response. You turned your attention back to the headline that read, “ GRIZZLY BEAR ATTACKS! UP TO EIGHT HIKERS VANISH IN LOST CREEK AREA.”

Sam pulled out his laptop. “Before that, 1959 and 1936. Every twenty-three years, just like clockwork.”

“You have WiFi in here?” you questioned.

“Don’t need it. Just wanted to look at Haley’s video.” He pulled it up from a folder on his screen.

“Oh, shit. I almost forgot. Can I see that?” You hopped off your stool to get between the two brothers. “Watch this.” You clicked through the three frames of the video containing the shadow you’d seen flash across the screen. “That's three frames. That's a fraction of a second. Whatever that thing is, it can move.”

Dean reached across you to hit Sam’s shoulder. “Told you something weird was going on.”

Sam rolled his eyes, closing his laptop. “Yeah. I got one more thing.” He put a newspaper article between you and Dean. “In 'fifty-nine one camper survived this supposed grizzly attack. Just a kid. Barely crawled out of the woods alive.”

You skimmed the article briefly. “Is there a name?”

The only survivor of the attack in the article Sam showed you and Dean was a child at the time. He now lived a life of what appeared to be solitude. He drove a beat up truck that was parked haphazardly in his driveway and lived several miles out of the city. You took in the poor old man’s messy house as he led your trio into his living room.

“Look, ranger, I don't know why you're asking me about this. It's public record. I was a kid. My parents got mauled by a—”

Sam interrupted him. “Grizzly? That's what attacked them?”

Mr. Shaw lit a cigarette, took a deep puff, and nodded.

“The other people that went missing that year, those bear attacks too?” Dean’s tone was slightly pointed. “What about all the people that went missing this year? Same thing?”

The old man continued to take drags of his cigarette. He seemed almost scared to entertain any other explanation aside from a grizzly bear attack.

Dean continued to pressure him. “If we knew what we were dealing with, we might be able to stop it.”

Mr. Shaw shook his head. “I seriously doubt that. Anyways, I don't see what difference it would make.” He sat down in his recliner. “You wouldn't believe me. Nobody ever did.”

Sam sat down opposite the old man. “Mr. Shaw, what did you see?”

“Nothing. It moved too fast to see. It hid too well. I heard it, though. A roar. Like... no man or animal I ever heard.”

“It came at night?”

He nodded.

“Got inside your tent?”

“It got inside our cabin. I was sleeping in front of the fireplace when it came in. It didn't smash a window or break the door. It unlocked it.”

You tried to keep your face from conveying your intrigue and tinge of fear.

“Do you know of a bear that could do something like that? I didn't even wake up till I heard my parents screaming.” You could see Mr. Shaw becoming lost in his mind.

“It killed them?” Sam continued.

“Dragged them off into the night.” The old man shook his head as if to shake away the memories. “Why it left me alive... been asking myself that ever since.” He took a brief pause before reaching to the collar of his wife beater. “Did leave me this, though.” He pulled it down to reveal three long, deep claw mark scars. Through morbid curiosity, you were tempted to run your fingers over the jagged edges of the scarring. You couldn’t imagine how painful and angry the marks must have been when the poor man first got them.

“There's something evil in those woods. It was some sort of a demon.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Shaw. We’re sorry about your parents,” you told him, turning away. “Have a good night, sir.”

Mr. Shaw seemed too caught up in his own head to respond with more than a wave, letting a cloud of smoke slither out of his mouth.

*** Later that night, you and the boys had just booked a room in yet another crappy motel.

‘One of these days I’ll treat myself to a stay in a halfway decent hotel.’

Before the three of you would be turning in for the night, you were headed to Dean’s car to pack your bags for the early morning you were about to have.

“Spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors.” Dean broke your train of thought. “If they want inside, they just go through the walls.”

“So it's probably something else, something corporeal,” Sam said.

“Corporeal? Look at you, smartass,” you laughed.

“Shut up. So what do you think?”

“The claws, the speed that it moves…” Dean trailed off. “Could be a skinwalker, maybe a black dog. Whatever we're talking about, we're talking about a creature, and it's corporeal. Which means we can kill it.”

“True,” you started. “But how are you gonna know what to bring to kill it with if we have no idea what it is?”

“Just trust me on this one,” Dean replied. “There’s not much a gun won’t be able to take care of.” He let the door to the motel almost completely swing shut behind him; nearly hitting you in the face.

You caught it just in time. “Right, right. Just like you ‘took care’ of Constance by shooting her.”

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” Dean raised a brow at you, just barely turning over his shoulder to give you his response. He started busying himself in the weapons box in the back of his car.

“I mean, just barely. Nearly caught me in the crossfire.”

Dean rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically. “And what a shame that would’ve been.”

“Hey!” You shoved his shoulder with yours.

He glared at you in response.

Sam, who had been quiet the last few minutes, spoke up. “We cannot let that Haley girl go out there.”

His brother was rummaging through the weapons box; haphazardly throwing guns into his duffel bag. “Oh yeah? What are we gonna tell her? That she can't go into the woods because of a big scary monster?”

You found a shotgun that was slightly smaller than the rest, giving it a once over before moving to put it in a duffel bag of your own. Before you could fully get it settled in the bag, Dean took it from you.

You went to protest, but Sam cut you off by saying, “Yeah,” as if it was obvious.

Dean turned his attention away from you and your shotgun long enough for you to steal it back.

“Her brother's missing, Sam,” he tried to reason. “She's not gonna just sit this out. Now we go with her, we protect her, and we keep our eyes peeled for our fuzzy predator friend.”

Dean seemed to notice you had taken the gun back and glared at you. He picked up his own duffel, and you closed the weapons cavity.

“Finding Dad’s not enough?” Sam countered while you closed the trunk. “Now we gotta babysit too?”

You and Dean gave Sam a look.

“What?” he snapped.

You shook your head.

“Nothing,” Dean replied. He threw the duffel bag at him and walked off.

***

You yawned and pulled yourself into a tighter ball on the backseat of Dean’s Impala. You hadn’t gotten much sleep last night for a reason you couldn’t quite place.

“Don’t get too comfortable, sweetheart, we’re here,” Dean told you.

“Fuck.” You grabbed yours and Dean’s duffel bags off the seat next to you and got out of the car to feel loose gravel grating against your boots.

A man who looked to be in his late fifties was up ahead of you next to a Jeep with Haley and the teenager you recognized as Haley’s younger brother. You approached the other three from behind Sam and Dean.

“You guys got room for three more?” the older brother asked.

Haley crossed her arms. “Wait, you want to come with us?”

“Who are these guys?” The older man pointed at your group.

“Apparently this is all the park service could muster up for the search and rescue.”

Sam headed past everyone, and you followed.

You assumed the middle-aged man was the guide Haley had talked about hiring the previous day. He was very skeptical of the three of you. “You're rangers?”

Dean’s confidence never wavered. “That's right.”

“And you're hiking out in biker boots and jeans?” Haley was apparently skeptical, too.

“Well, sweetheart, I don't do shorts.”

‘That’s what he calls me.’ You couldn’t quite understand the pang that went through your chest when he used that nickname for her. You pushed the thought aside once again, reminding yourself that you weren’t special in Dean’s eyes. To you, he was becoming more of a playboy asshole with each passing moment. You hoped your attraction to his beautiful green eyes and sharp jawline would soon turn to disdain.

Speaking of which, he appeared next to you as the guide spoke once more. “What, you think this is funny? It's dangerous back country out there. Her brother might be hurt.”

You turned around, trying to explain Dean’s attitude away. “He knows that. He just has a funny way of showing it.” You hoped Dean didn’t miss the bite in your tone. And from the way you could feel his glare burning a hole through your skull, you were sure it wasn’t lost on him.

The guide shook his head, brushing past you and the brothers. He headed into the forest, and you followed a few paces behind. You would never admit it, but the woods had always unsettled you just a bit. You tightened your grip on your bag and pushed forward.

Dean had apparently learned the guide’s name from Haley while you were lost in your own anxiety. “Roy, you said you did a little hunting.” He quickened his step to pass you and get up next to Roy.

“Yeah, more than a little.” The response came gruff and disinterested.

“Uh-huh. What kind of furry critters do you hunt?”

You could feel where this was going. ‘Don’t fucking provoke him, Winchester.’

“Mostly buck, sometimes bear.” The disinterest was ever present in Roy’s tone as he continued to scan the treeline in front of him.

Dean passed him up, doing that obnoxiously confident backwards walk again. “Tell me, uh, Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?”

Suddenly, Roy grabbed Dean’s jacket roughly. You nearly flinched.

“Whatcha doing, Roy?” Dean’s tone had hardened.

Roy grabbed a stick, and peering around Dean you could see the jaws of a bear trap close around it inches from Dean’s boot.

“You should watch where you're stepping. Ranger.”

‘Damn.’

Roy dropped the stick and took the lead once more.

Dean turned around to the rest of the group. “It's a bear trap.”

You scoffed.

You could hear Haley’s quickened step crunching leaves as she passed you to catch up to Dean. “You didn't pack any provisions. You guys are carrying a duffel bag. You're not rangers.” She grabbed his arm, spinning him to face her. “So who the hell are you?”

The teenage boy passed his sister and Dean. You and Sam hesitated behind Haley, shooting Dean a quizzical look. Dean jerked his head for the two of you to go on. You followed Sam forward, but hung back close enough that you could hear Dean and Haley’s conversation.

“Sam and I are brothers, and we're looking for our father. (Y/N) is—” you were interested in this explanation, “—a friend of ours.”

‘Oh, so we’re friends now.’

“He might be here, we don't know. I just figured that you and me, we're in the same boat.”

“Why didn't you just tell me that from the start?”

“I'm telling you now. 'sides, it's probably the most honest I've ever been with a woman. ...ever. So, we okay?”

‘Wonder how many times he’s used that line.’ You caught that same squeeze happening in your chest happening again. You desperately wished to get ahold of yourself and snap out of it. ‘He’s just pretty to look at. He’s a complete douche. Get it together, girl.’

You had missed Haley’s response to Dean’s “heartfelt” admission, but heard “And what do you mean I didn't pack provisions?” You heard the rustling of a plastic bag behind you, and remembered the bag of peanut M&Ms he had bought at a gas station before coming here. You heard Dean start walking again, and you hurried ahead to catch up with Sam and not look like you were snooping.

Dean had apparently noticed you were hanging back and chuckled to himself. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

He walked up beside you. “Jealous?”

“What?” you turned to him, feigning disgust. “Fuck no.”

“So… you were just snooping because…?”

You wanted to smack the smug grin off his face. His amusement at your aggravation riled you up even more. “I was just curious what she thought of us. And to be frank, I don’t exactly trust your ability to explain things away. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh.” You knew he didn’t believe you. “That’s all.”

You petulantly stole the bag of peanut M&Ms from him.

“Hey! (Y/N)!”

You marched on.

“This is it. Blackwater Ridge,” Roy announced after what felt like hours of walking. Your anxiety around getting lost in the forest was only deepening. That was what it all boiled down to. You had a fear of not being in control, and the idea of a place where every “landmark” looked the same, wildlife ruled the terrain, and being alone in it was pretty much a death sentence, scared you pretty severely. Not to mention, the time you almost bled to death in the middle of the woods had another hunter not found you.

You had no means of identifying where you’d come back from. All the trees seemed the same to you. You had no idea how you were going to get back to the car at the end of the day; if you were even going to make it out of here by the end of the day. You had been walking for so long that you were sure you’d be sleeping out here tonight. The thought of that frightened you even more.

What truly unsettled you was that the sounds you had been hearing up until you made it to Blackwater Ridge— crickets, leaves rustling, birds chirping— all of it had been silenced.

“I'm gonna go take a look around,” Roy announced.

The younger Winchester stopped him. “You shouldn't go off by yourself.”

Roy’s snark almost rivaled Dean’s. “That's sweet. Don't worry about me.” He waved his gun around and pushed between the two brothers to head deeper into the forest.

Dean turned to the rest of your group. “Alright, everybody stays together. Let's go.”

‘Great. More fucking woods.’ You marched forward, trying to put on a brave face.

Sam’s eyes softened when he caught sight of you. “You okay?”

Apparently, your “brave face” wasn’t as brave as you thought. “Yeah, why?”

“You look… kinda nervous.”

“Yeah, I am. I’m, uh, kinda scared of the forest, honestly.”

“Aw, sweetheart,” Dean’s mocking tone interrupted your vulnerable moment. “You’re scared of a little woods?” He jutted out his bottom lip, feigning a pout.

“Fuck off, Winchester. I’m fine.”

“Whoa, touchy. Relax.” Dean held his hands up in surrender. “Was just poking fun, that’s all.”

“Okay, well, it wasn’t funny. So, fuck off.” You rushed ahead, still white-knuckling the duffel bag on your shoulder.

Before Dean could catch up to you or respond, Roy called out from quite a bit ahead. “Haley! Over here!”

Haley took off in the direction of Roy’s voice, closely followed by you. Haley froze at the sight in front of her. “Oh, my God.”

In the clearing Roy had found, bloodied, torn open tents surrounded mutilated camping supplies and backpacks. Deep gashes in the tent material and the surrounding trees were jagged and stained with blood around the edges. The sight wasn’t making your queasiness any better.

“Looks like a grizzly.”

‘No, it doesn’t, Roy,’ you thought.

Haley’s backpack hit the ground next to you, and she tore through the campsite; screaming her brother’s name.

Sam moved to quiet her down. She kept screaming. A much harsher “Shh!” passed Sam’s lips, finally getting the girl to settle down.

“Why?” she questioned defensively.

“Something might still be out there,” he answered.

Dean called his brother’s name from the other end of the campsite. You followed Sam over to the sound of Dean’s voice.

You crouched down next to Sam. Dean snapped a stick and pointed to a set of drag marks on the ground. “The bodies were dragged from the campsite. But here, the tracks just vanish. That's weird. I'll tell you what, that's no skinwalker or black dog.”

The three of you stood and returned to the campsite to find Haley crying on the ground over her brother’s broken and bloodied phone.

“Hey, he could still be alive,” Dean told her. She shot him a confused and slightly angry look.

Out of nowhere, a scratchy male voice started gutturally calling, “Help! Help!”

Roy was quick to run to the shouter’s aid. However, you weren’t so sure it was a real person screaming like that.

“Help! Somebody!” came again.

The brothers started off to follow Roy.

“Wait, guys!” you called, not wanting to be left alone despite your hesitation.

“C’mon, (Y/N)!” Sam called.

You dropped your duffel in your rush to follow Sam’s voice. When you found where the group had gathered, you could see the brothers searching the treeline. You licked your teeth, upset that your intuition was right. Your group had found no one.

“It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn't it?” Haley said, confused.

“Everybody get back to camp,” you ordered.

You followed the path you were pretty sure would get you back to the mangled campsite. Thankfully, your sense of direction was right, but all of your supplies had been taken by the time you returned.

“Our packs!” Haley exclaimed.

Roy grumbled, “So much for my GPS and my satellite phone.”

“What the hell is going on?” Haley was catching on.

“It’s smart. It’s trying to isolate us so we can’t call for help. It knows we won’t last long without supplies,” you stated.

“You mean someone, some nutjob out there just stole all our gear.” The guide’s voice was hard and angry.

“I need to speak with you two. In private.” You pulled the brothers aside by their jackets. Dean shrugged your hand off him.

“Can I see your dad’s journal?” you asked. Yours had been taken along with your duffel bag.

“No, why?” Dean asked petulantly.

“Please, dude, c’mon.” You were not in the mood.

“Give it to her, Dean,” Sam chimed in.

Dean rolled his eyes and handed it over.

You flipped through until you found a page marked by a First Nations-style drawing of a tall figure with long claws labeled “Wendigo.” You looked up at the boys expectantly.

“Oh, come on, wendigos are in the Minnesota woods or, or northern Michigan. I've never even heard of one this far west,” Dean responded.

“Think about it, Dean, the claws, the way it can mimic a human voice,” you tried to reason.

“Great.” He took his pistol out of his belt. “Well, then this is useless.”

“I told you guns don’t work on everything,” you quipped.

“Shut up.”

Sam took the journal from you and handed it back to his brother. “We gotta get these people to safety.” He led you and Dean back to the group. “All right, listen up, it's time to go. Things have gotten...more complicated.”

Haley seemed pissed. “What?”

“Kid, don't worry.” Roy’s tone was almost patronizing. “Whatever's out there, I think I can handle it.”

“It's not me I'm worried about. If you shoot this thing, you're just gonna make it mad. We have to leave. Now,” Sam countered.

“One, you're talking nonsense. Two, you're in no position to give anybody orders.” Roy was now getting in Sam’s face.

“C’mon, Roy, chill out,” you told him, pressing a hand to Sam’s chest to keep him from stepping to Roy.

Sam let you keep your hand there, but still bit back at Roy. “We never should have let you come out here in the first place, all right? I'm trying to protect you.”

“You protect me? I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you good night.” The guide was so close you could smell the chewing tobacco on his breath.

Sam still refused to back down. “Yeah? It's a damn near perfect hunter. It's smarter than you, and it's gonna hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid sorry ass out of here.”

Roy laughed mockingly. “You know you're crazy, right?”

“Yeah? You ever hunt a wen—”

Dean pushed you out the way and shoved his brother back. “Relax!”

Haley got between you, the boys, and Roy. “Stop. Stop it. Everybody just stop. Look. Tommy might still be alive. And I'm not leaving here without him.”

You considered for a moment the implications of what may happen if you allowed them to stay.

Dean broke the silence. “It's getting late. This thing is a good hunter in the day, but an unbelievable hunter at night. We'll never beat it, not in the dark. We need to settle in and protect ourselves.”

“How?” Haley asked.

“I’m not gonna sugarcoat this,” you began. “We don’t really have the time for the ‘monsters under the bed are real’ talk. This thing is a Wendigo. I’m gonna start carving some symbols into the ground. No one crosses the circle once I’ve drawn it. Got it?”

Haley nodded at you. “What can I do?”

“Build a fire with— sorry, I never caught his name,” you gestured to the teenager next to her.

“Ben,” Haley told you.

“Ben. You two start gathering enough wood and tinder to keep a fire going. Don’t go too far, though, please.”

She and Ben nodded at you before setting off.

“Thank you,” you called after the Collins siblings. “Sam, Dean, help me with the Anasazi symbols.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean said. You were surprised at his compliance.

After a while of scuttling across the forest floor drawing a circle of Anasazi symbols around the campsite, the sun had set. Haley and Ben had long since returned and were tending the fire. As you finished the last symbol, you brushed the dirt off your hands on your jeans.

Haley looked up at you from her place by the fire. “One more time, that's—”

“Anasazi symbols. It's for protection,” Dean explained. “The wendigo can't cross over them.”

Roy laughed, feeling the need to assert the fact he thought this was bullshit.

“Nobody likes a skeptic, Roy,” Dean told him, clearly fatigued of the man’s attitude.

Roy turned his attention back to the treeline with his gun over his shoulder. You followed Dean over to where Sam sat away from the group at the edge of the campsite.

“You wanna tell me what's going on in that freaky head of yours?” Dean asked his brother.

“Dean—” the younger one began to protest. You sat down next to him.

“No, you're not fine.” Of course, he already knew what Sam was going to say. “You're like a powder keg, man, it's not like you. I'm supposed to be the belligerent one, remember?”

You laughed. “Yeah, I’ve got enough of that attitude with just him, Sam.”

Dean nudged the tip of your boot with his harshly. You returned his glare petulantly.

“Dad's not here. I mean, that much we know for sure, right? He would have left us a message, a sign, right?” Sam’s mind was clearly going a mile a minute.

“Yeah, you're probably right. Tell you the truth, I don't think Dad's ever been to Lost Creek.”

You decided to just sit back and listen for a moment before throwing your two cents in.

“Then let's get these people back to town and let's hit the road. Go find Dad. I mean, why are we still even here?” Sam threw his hands up in frustration.

“This is why.” Dean held out his dad’s journal to his brother. “This book. This is Dad's single most valuable possession—everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. And he's passed it on to us. I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business.”

Sam shook his head. “That makes no sense. Why doesn't he just—call us? Why doesn't he—tell us what he wants, tell us where he is?”

“I dunno. But the way I see it, Dad's giving us a job to do, and I intend to do it.”

Sam’s eyes began to well with tears. “Dean, no. I gotta find Dad. I gotta find Jessica's killer. It's the only thing I can think about.”

“Okay, all right, Sam, we'll find them, I promise. Listen to me.” Sam looked up at Dean. “You've gotta prepare yourself. I mean, this search could take a while, and all that anger, you can't keep it burning over the long haul. It's gonna kill you. You gotta have patience, man.”

Sam looked away again, still fighting the tears congealing in his water line. “How do you two do it? How does Dad do it?”

You let Dean take that question. “Well for one, them.” He gestured to Haley and Ben. “I mean, I figure our family's so screwed to hell, maybe we can help some others. Makes things a little bit more bearable.”

You paused, looking down at the dirt and twigs below you before speaking. “It’s kind of the same for me. I don’t have a family anymore.” You felt Dean’s gaze on you, but kept the burning in your cheeks at bay. “This is really all I’ve ever known. I know I couldn’t go back to a normal life after all this. So, I do what I can to help everyone else’s lives feel a little more normal. Not everybody needs to know what’s really out there. It kinda brings me peace knowing I’m helping somebody else live their life relatively worry-free.”

Dean continued. “I'll tell you what else helps.”

You looked back up at him.

“Killing as many evil sons of bitches as I possibly can.”

You smiled at Dean genuinely for the first time.

A twig snapped, breaking you and the boys out of the little bonding moment you’d just had. The same, slightly unhuman grainy voice screamed out again from somewhere in the trees. “Help me! Please!”

Dean stands with his gun. You thought about pointing out the fact that it was useless, but decided to keep it to yourself.

“Help!” the strained sound came again.

Sam shined his flashlight through the tree line.

“He's trying to draw us out. Just stay cool, stay put,” Dean told the group.

“Inside the magic circle?” Roy quipped.

“Shut up, would you?” You snapped, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Help! Help me!” The voice seemed to become more distant before a low growl emanated from just outside the circle.

Roy pointed his gun at the sound. “Okay, that's no grizzly.”

“Oh, now you believe us,” you quipped.

“(Y/N),” Dean warned, still facing the outside of the circle.

Something rushed past where Haley and Ben were standing. She let out a scream.

“It's here,” the younger Winchester stated.

The guide shot at the rustling bushes, and then again. “I hit it!” He took off before you could protest.

“Roy, no!” you immediately ran after him.

You could hear Dean behind you addressing the Collinses, but barely registered it while trying to follow Roy.

“Roy! Come back!” you called.

“It's over here! It's in the tree!” the man called back.

Just as you reached him, something grabbed onto Roy’s shoulders and began pulling him up into the tree above.

“Roy!” you grabbed his ankles, doing your best to pull him back down to the ground.

Roy was screaming above you, and the Wendigo’s strength was too much for you. Roy’s screaming was cut off sharply by a snapping sound. In that moment, you knew he was gone. You let Roy’s legs go and dropped back down to the ground.

The Winchester brothers appeared at that second, rushing to your side.

“You okay?” Sam asked, helping you up. “Where’s Roy?”

You shook your head. “He’s gone.”

You and the boys headed back to camp to find Haley and Ben huddled together. Haley was caught off-guard by your return, and nearly took you out with her makeshift torch-weapon. “Shit!” she yelped. “You scared the crap out of me!”

“Sorry,” you laughed. “Easy, tiger.”

She threw her torch back into the fire. “Where’s Roy?”

Your smile faded. “I tried to help him. I’m sorry.”

She nodded somberly. A saddened, heavy air fell over your camp as the remaining five of you tried to go to sleep before your undoubtedly busy day tomorrow.

Haley and Ben settled down near the fire with tatters of backpacks and tent material as pillows and blankets respectively. You and Dean forced Sam to lay down and rest because it was evident via the bags under his eyes that he’d had none over the last several days.

“I’ll take first watch,” you told Dean, settling your back against the stump of a tree near where Sam had started falling asleep.

“Not a chance, sweetheart.”

“First of all, stop calling me that,” you snapped. “Second, it wasn’t a suggestion. I’m taking first watch. Go to sleep.”

“Why are you so insistent on this?” Dean furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“Why don’t you trust me?” you countered.

“I don’t know, maybe because you’re the last person to have seen my dad before he ‘mysteriously disappeared’?”

“You’re not seriously suggesting—” you scoffed, and Dean cut you off again.

“Maybe because I don’t even know you. Maybe because you so readily agreed to just hitch a ride with Sam and I the day Jessica died. Maybe those are some good reasons not to trust you.”

“Dean, I had nothing to do with your dad’s disappearance. And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m on my own. Sorry that I was just excited to finally have someone willing to take me along with them. And I don’t give a shit about you, honestly. I do give a shit about Sam, though, and I’m not gonna leave while he’s in this headspace. And I wanna help you find your dad.”

“Why do you care so much?” he hissed in retaliation.

“Because I don’t have any family. I want to help reunite yours. Like you said earlier, it helps you feel a little better and sleep a little easier at night.” Your voice had softened considerably, and you turned your attention from Dean to your hands folded in your lap.

“Fine, but after we find my dad, you’re gone,” he responded after a moment.

“Fine.” You turned away from him, hugging your knees to your chest. “I’m still taking first watch.”

“Whatever, (Y/N).” You could hear Dean moving around behind you.

“Goodnight,” you said.

All you got was a huff in response.

At some point that night, Sam was actually the one to take over your watch. He’d woken up from a nightmare, and you knew he wouldn’t be getting back to sleep any time soon. You did your best to get some sleep despite your heightened sense of awareness from your unsettling surroundings and the anger you still felt at Dean after your argument.

When you did awaken, Sam was sitting against the tree next to you, Dean was talking to Haley about the origin of Wendigos, and Haley was grilling Dean about how he knows about monsters.

“Kind of runs in the family,” was all Dean answered her question with.

You felt Sam push off the tree behind you. You still hadn’t rolled over from your sleeping position.

“So we've got half a chance in the daylight,” Sam announced to the group. “And I for one want to kill this evil son of a bitch.”

“Well, hell, you know I'm in,” you heard Dean respond.

“'Wendigo' is a Cree Indian word. It means 'evil that devours',” Sam explained.

You began stretching while Dean continued educating Haley and Ben. “They're hundreds of years old. Each one was once a man. Sometimes an Indian, or other times a frontiersman or a miner or hunter.”

“How's a man turn into one of those things?” Haley asked.

“Well, it's always the same,” the older Winchester continued while you started to make your way over to them, brushing leaves out of your hair with your fingers. “During some harsh winter a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies or help. Becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp.”

“Like the Donner Party.” That was the first you’d ever heard Ben speak.

“Cultures all over the world believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities. Speed, strength, immortality,” Sam continued.

“If you eat enough of it, over years, you become this less than human thing. You're always hungry,” Dean finished.

“So if that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?” Haley waited for the answer with baited breath.

“You're not gonna like it.”

“Tell me.” Haley steeled herself.

“More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time, but when it's awake it keeps its victims alive. It—” Dean seemed to be searching for the right words, “—uh, it stores them, so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there.”

“And then how do we stop it?”

You spoke up for the first time, holding an empty beer bottle, a white cloth, and a can of lighter fluid you’d found from near the camp. “Guns are useless, so, Molotov cocktail, baby.”

You could swear Dean cracked a smile at you, but you refused to acknowledge it.

The sun had risen much higher since your crew had first started walking. You had passed multiple trees with bloodied claw marks on them. It was starting to unsettle you, quite honestly. You’d just passed the seventh or eighth claw-marked tree when you decided to bring Sam’s attention to your thought process.

“You know, I was thinking, those claw marks are so clear and distinct. Not at all as jagged as they were on Mr. Shaw’s scar or the tree where the thing snatched Roy. They were almost too easy to follow.”

Almost as if on cue, a low growl rumbled from above and trees rustled. Haley looked up before jerking herself out of the way. And good thing she had, because Roy’s corpse soon landed where she’d stood.

Dean inspected Roy’s corpse while Sam helped Haley up. “His neck's broke.”

The growling continued.

Upon hearing the sound, Dean started to bark out, “Okay, run, run, run, run, go, go, go!”

You immediately split. You were always quite a fast runner and light on your feet. You and Haley took the lead of the group and could hear the boys’ thundering footsteps behind you.

Before you knew it, the growling had landed right in front of you. You and Haley were brought to a skidding halt before the creature. Haley yelped as the creature grabbed your legs and began dragging the two of you. You took the bag of peanut M&Ms you’d stolen from Dean out of your jacket’s inner pocket. You let the bag’s contents out slowly as sticks and rocks scraped up your dragging body. The last thing you felt was a sharp pain on the back of your head before you vision blacked out completely.

The next time you came to, the first thing you felt were your aching wrists and hands on either side of your face. You could faintly hear Dean calling your name, and your vision began to get less hazy as Dean’s voice became more clear.

When Dean’s annoyingly beautiful, worried face finally came into focus, you said the first thing that came to mind. “Aren’t you a little short for a stormtrooper.”

You could hear Sam laughing behind Dean and Dean sighed. If you didn’t know any better, you would say he sounded relieved.

Sam reached above you to cut your wrists down. “You okay?”

Despite your aching joints, you said, “Yeah.”

Sam helped you over to one of the cave’s walls. “You sure you're alright?”

“Yeah. Yep,” you groaned. “Where is he?”

“He's gone for now.”

“Oh, thank god,” you breathed, making Sam laugh a little. “Oh, sweet.” You noticed the stolen duffel bags next to you and started rummaging through yours. Haley let out a shriek, causing you to jerk your head in her direction. She’d found her brother, and thankfully, he was alive.

“Cut him down!” Haley ordered. Sam got to work.

You found a flare gun in Dean’s duffel bag, saying, “Check it out.” to the rest of your group.

“Flare guns. Those'll work,” Sam responded, grinning.

You laughed, throwing one of the guns at Dean who caught it easily. He twirled it around his finger, smirking at you.

“Enough fooling around, let’s go,” Haley urged. She shouldered her brother, and with Ben’s help, started moving down the mine shaft.

You and Sam held up the rear of the group while Dean took the lead. Amidst the clunky shuffling of Tommy’s weakened body down the shaft, you could hear the same deep, low growling you’d heard in the forest.

“Looks like someone's home for supper,” quipped Dean, scanning the corridor ahead of him.

“We'll never outrun it,” Haley said.

Dean looked back at you and Sam. “You thinking what I'm thinking?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Sam responded.

“I don’t,” you chimed in.

“You’ll catch on,” Dean shot back. “All right, listen to me. Stay with Sam and (Y/N). They’re gonna get you out of here.”

“What are you gonna do?” Haley asked the older Winchester.

He winked at her, shooting her that same smile he’d shot you one of the first times you’d met him. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. He started yelling moments later, walking away from you. “Chow time, you freaky bastard! Yeah, that's right, bring it on, baby, I taste good.”

‘I bet he does.’ You surprised yourself. ‘What? What the fuck? He’s an asshole.’

Sam’s voice brought you out of your head. “All right, come on! Hurry!”

Your group rushed down the tunnel. You stayed in the rear, and Sam headed up to the front. He began leading your group down to where you could faintly see a bit of daylight peeking through.

And then, the growling again.

“Fuck,” you muttered. “Get him outta here!” you instructed the Collinses.

“(Y/N), no,” Haley told you.

“Go!” you urged her.

She finally nodded and started pulling her brothers down the tunnel with her. You aimed your flare gun at the direction where the growling was coming from.

“C’mon, motherfucker,” you grumbled, scanning the tunnel.

“(Y/N)!” Sam called from behind you.

You wheeled around to come face to face with the Wendigo. In your startle, you missed your shot with the flare gun. Your only other option was to take off after the three Collins siblings, closely followed by Sam.

“Come on, hurry, hurry, hurry,” Sam ordered the group. “Get behind me.” Given Sam’s size, he was able to hide all three Collinses behind him. You knew your pistol was no use, but you still aimed it at the creature anyway.

The Wendigo approached, taking its time in getting to you.

“Hey!” you suddenly heard Dean from behind the Wendigo. It wheeled around, only for Dean to shoot it in the stomach.

Flames curled up the Wendigo’s horribly disfigured body in twisted tendrils. The creature let out a howl before collapsing to the ground in a pile of burning embers.

Dean was revealed behind where the Wendigo previously stood. “Not bad, huh?”

Despite yourself, you grinned.

A quite chipper, clearly freshman EMT had patched you up upon your return to civilization. You had an uncomfortable laceration on your neck, a few scrapes above your eyebrow, and your wrists burned from where you had been tied up. You’d survive, it would just take you a few days to recover from.

You watched from a short distance as Haley approached Dean, both of whom had been patched up. You scowled as Dean smirked lasciviously at Haley and couldn’t help the bile rising in your throat when Haley leaned in to kiss Dean’s cheek. She said one final thing to Dean before walking toward the ambulance carrying Tommy with Ben.

“Thanks, (Y/N)!” she called to you.

You waved at her with a lopsided smile. She returned your grin before hopping into the back of the ambulance.

Sam motioned for you to come back over to Dean’s car.

“Man, I hate camping,” said Dean as you approached.

“Me too,” you shivered.

“Still scared of the woods?” he asked you, his tone slightly patronizing.

You ignored his tone and answered earnestly. “Definitely. Probably more so, now.” You crossed your arms over your body and hugged yourself.

A moment of silence passed before Dean addressed his brother. “Sam, you know we're gonna find Dad, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” he nodded. “But in the meantime? I'm driving.”

Dean lolled his head to the side dramatically before tossing the keys to Sam. Recalling your fight with Dean at the campsite, you hesitated to get in the car when the brothers did.

“(Y/N), what are you doing?” Sam asked out of the driver’s side window. “Let’s go.”

You nodded, conceding, and hopped into the backseat. You threw your legs up on the leather beside you and stared out the window. Out of the corner of your eye, you could swear Dean was staring at you.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #supernatural #dean winchester #supernatural series rewrite #spn #spn series rewrite

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inlovewhithafairytale · 1 month

Text

01 x 01 Pilot part 1

"You're waiting in the car" is the first thing Dean says when he parks the '67 Chevy Impala in front of the apartments where their brother lived.

Yn scrunched up her nose and furrowed her eyebrows "dude. Why?"

"Cause I say so"

"Why do you get to see him before me? Its not fair" Yn says not backing up as her oldest brother got out of the car.

"Just stay in the car" Dean says slamming the car door shut behind him and making his way to the apartments.

The 15 year old leaned back against the car seat crossing her arms over her chest with a pout "not fair" she mumbled to herself.

****

Yn had nodded off to sleep resting her head against the car window as she waited for her brothers hoping that Sam would go with them.

"Why did you even leave her in the car?" Sam asked Dean as he walked next to him to the parking lot.

"She was sleeping" Dean lied. Truth be told, he didn't want Yn to get her hopes up to Sam coming, he knew that she missed their brother horribly and had cried herself to sleep when he first went away to Stanford.

Yn woke up to her brothers voices and the sound of the cars trunk being open. She grinned widely when she heard Sam's voice and quickly opened the car door and rushed to Sam jumping into his arms and hugging him tightly as she let out a series of happy squeals.

"Sammy I missed you so fucking much" she said as Sam laughed hugging her tightly back and giving her a spin before setting her back on the ground.

"I missed you so much too Yn. Wow, you've grown so much!" Sam looked her up and down a smile on his face as he looked at his little sister.

"Yeah. She turned 15 two months ago" Dean cut in a with an edge to his words.

"Dean. I know" Sam answered glaring slightly at his brother.

"But that doesn't matter. We're here" Yn cut in giving Dean a reproach in her look, turning back to Sam "so...are you coming with us to search for dad?" She asked him eyes begging him to come.

"Yes, but i have to be back by Monday" came Sam's reply as he ruffled her hair up a bit.

Yn pouted a bit at his words "oh well I guess"

"Yn, get back in the car" Dean told her.

"Why?" She asked turning to him eyebrows furrowed.

"I want to talk with Sam and you're on the way. Car. Now" Dean said closing the back of the car.

Yn have a dramatic sight "fine...." she muttered and got back in the car arms crossed over her chest and a frown on her face. When she walked behind Dean she stuck her tongue out at him making Sam stifle a laugh.

***

Dean knocked on the car window of the backseat startling Yn awake who sat up from the seat rubbing her eyes "what? Where are we?" She said groaning as she opened the car door.

"On our way to Jericho right now on a gas stop. Go to the bathroom" Dean said handing her a bottle of pear juice and a bag of cheese puffs "breakfast" he said simply and turning to Sam who was sitting shotgun he gestured to the other bag of chips he was holding"breakfast?"

Sam scoffed "no. How do you even give that to Yn?"

"Eh. I'm used to it." Yn said shrugging as Dean glared at his brother. Yn out her bag of chips and bottle of juice down on the leather seat and got out of the car stretching "I'm going to the bathroom" she said groaning a bit and walking past Dean into the small gas stop.

"How do you even buy stuff? Still on the credit card schemes?" Sam asked knowingly.

"Well, hunting isn't exactly a paying job" Dean shrugged as he walked to the other side of the car and got into the drivers seat.

"What names did you use this time?"

"Bert Afrahiam and his loving kids Hector and Evangeline Afrahiam" came the smug reply.

Sam gave a snort and a shake of his head turning his attention back to the cassette collection box Dean had "dude. You need to update your cassette collection. Black Sabath? Metallica? Ac/Dc? Who even listen to those anymore?"

"House rules Sammy, driver picks the music, shotgun shuts their cakehole" Dean said taking one of the cassettes and putting it on the radio.

"Sammy it's a chubby 8 hear old. Its Sam."

"Sorry. Can't hear you. Music's too loud" Dean said as he turned the music up, back in black playing loudly through the speakers.

The backseat door opened and Yn slipped in wincing slightly at the loud music. "Dude. Lower it down a little"

"House rules booger driver picks the music and-" Dean start again as he drove away from the gas station.

"Yeah but backseat gets to lower the music. Tune it down a bit, I've got a headache" Yn said rolling her eyes a bit at him

Dean complies and puts the volume down just a little.

Sam turns to her a bit of concern flashing through his face "you've got a headache?"

"No. But I'll get one if Dean keeps putting the music so loud"yn answered

Dean rolled her eyes at her through the rear view mirror "just eat your vegetables"

"Yeah dad..." yn said mockingly as she opened her bag of cheese puffs and started eating.

***

Part two ... Flashbacks.a.k.a. younger years before season 1

if any of you have any ideas I am all ears <333

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probably-writing-x · 9 months

Text

Pictured.

Summary: hi, i loved just you!! i was wondering if you could write more about conrad and the reader being so in love that never stops. like maybe flash forward to out of college to when he proposes, then their wedding day when he cries seeing her walk down the isle? and then when they have their first child and name her after susannah 🥺 sorry if that’s super detailed

Authors Note: This is the fluffiest thing ever but I hope you love it, it was so fun to write thank you so much for your request <3

“Hello darling!”

You jump a little at the words, tilting your head back against the couch to see Conrad, “I didn’t even hear you come home!”

He grins and leans down to kiss you, your lips upside down against his, “I like the element of surprise.”

You hum in agreement and turn your head back to the task at hand.

“What are you doing?” He asks, throwing his keys down onto the dish on the fireplace before turning back to you and the mess in front of you.

“I’m trying to be organised,” You grimace a little, “But I keep getting distracted.”

“Oh my god!” Conrad laughs, sitting down on the couch beside you, “Where did you find all of these?”

He looks down at the coffee table full of photos littered in piles yet to be formed, one’s passing the decade that you’d been together.

“We look so young,” He chuckles at a photo of one of your first dates when you were only 16, the two of you grinning at the disposable camera.

“I don’t think I look any different,” You joke, brushing your finger over the youthful faces.

Conrad scoffs, “We aged well, I’d say.”

“Oh absolutely we did,” You lean your head into his shoulder, reaching forward to grab another photo, “Look at this one.”

“Wow, god, I remember this day,” Conrad beams at the photo, “It was the day we moved out of college.”

—— 5 Years Ago ——

“Alright, you’ve cleared the kitchen, I’ve done the bathroom, bedroom is done…” Conrad looks around at the space checking for anything that you’ve missed, “I think we’re good.”

It was today that the two of you would be moving out of college. For the past three years you’d been here in Stanford together after Conrad transferred and it had been a dream. You’d lived separately on campus at first and then for the last two years lived in an apartment just a short walk away, a bit of solitude for the two of you. He went to his classes and you went to yours, you came back for lunch together or met on campus and then sat in the library together when you weren’t in class. He brought you coffee when you needed to study for finals and you bought him cheeseburgers when he had his to study for. You cooked on weekdays and he cooked on weekends when he had more time to cook something fancy. You worked a job on campus and he worked a few evenings. It worked. Everything had felt like bliss for the past few years.

You weren’t ready to say goodbye.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Conrad frowns at you, setting down the box in his hands to walk over to where you were sat down on the empty mattress.

“This just feels so weird,” You mumble, glancing around at the empty shelves where your photo frames used to stand.

Conrad nods, “Yeah, yeah it does feel weird. Good weird.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, “Do you think?”

Your eyes are filling with tears and you’re fighting what you can to keep them back.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Conrad crouches down in front of you and places one hand on your leg, the other cupping the side of your face, “Don’t get upset, honey.”

“It’s just,” You let out a shaky breath, “I’m not ready to leave all of this.”

“Okay, we’re graduating, we’re moving, things are going to change. But that’s not a bad thing. God, we’ve got our whole lives ahead of us. Isn’t that exciting?” He smiles at you brightly, “We’ve been waiting for this since we first started college. Just you and me.”

You smile down and him and press your hand against his on your cheek, wrapping your fingers around his, “Doesn’t it scare you?”

He nods his head, “Of course. I’m terrified. But in the best way.”

You laugh a little and he brushes his thumb under your eyes before any tears have fallen.

“Now, I was going to wait before I told you,” He leans back a little and reaches into his pocket, “But I think this seems like the right time.”

You frown a little as you watch him, your heart fluttering.

“So, you know how we’d decided on living with your parents for a while until we figured out where to go next…” He takes a deep breath, “Well, you can tell them they don’t need to worry.”

“Wh-“ You let out a breath, “What do you mean?”

“Someone might’ve told me something about a little house in Cousins being free now that Jeremiah’s moving out…” He brings his hand in front of you and a distinct key lays in his palm.

“The beach house?” You exclaim, eyes wide.

“Jere’s moving closer to Belly for now until she graduates and then they think they’ll settle in Boston and come to Cousins for the summer, like we used to. So…”

“The house is yours?” You finish for him, words almost escaping you.

“It’s ours,” Conrad confirms, his face brightening.

“Oh my god!” You squeal, your hands flying to grip his shoulders, “You got us a house! You got us the beach house!”

Conrad chuckles, “Yeah, I did!”

You wrap your arms around him tightly and bury your face against his neck, breathing in the scent that would always be home to you. The two of you stand up together and he spins you around in the small space you had between boxes, before lowering you down and pressing the key into your palm.

“We might just have to set up the spare bedrooms for summer, I think we’ll have some regular visitors,” He shrugs, his arms around your waist.

You giggle, “That’s perfect, it’s all...”

“The start of the rest of our lives, darling.”

——Present Day——

“That’s when this place was officially ours,” You point out, the photo in your hands showing the two of you grinning with the key in your hand.

“Yeah, it was a long time coming,” Conrad chuckles, his fingertips trailing up and down your arm.

“I was so scared to graduate college, and now look at us,” You shake your head, “I had nothing to worry about.”

“There’s still time,” Conrad jokes and you jab him in the side.

“Oh my god! Look at this one!” You beam, “The fourth of July.”

“Yeah there was something important about the 4th that year…” Conrad smirks, taunting you.

“Yeah what could that be?” You roll your eyes.

He moves his fingers down to the thin silver chain around your neck where a single ring hung down like a pendant near your heart.

“God, I loved that day.”

—— 4 Years Ago ——

“Jere how many fireworks does one house need?” You look down at the boxes he’s carrying into the house, “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Oh, come on, it’s the fourth,” Jeremiah grins, glancing at his brother, “I’ve got reason to celebrate.”

“I tried telling him it was too many,” Belly laughs as she walks in behind him, carrying a couple of bags of groceries.

“Oh you’re a lifesaver!” You smile, taking one of the bags from him, “I can’t believe I forgot so much.”

“It’s the stress of hosting,” Belly jokes, “But I’ve got you covered, I think this is everything.”

“I hope so,” You nod, “I just need to figure out how to make everything like Susannah would do.”

This was your first fourth of July hosting in this house - the first since the house had officially been yours and Conrad’s home. It would just be the six of you, the three couples - you and Con, Jere and Belly, and Steven and Taylor.

“She’d be impressed either way,” Belly squeezes your shoulder, “I’ll go help Jere set up outside.”

“Thank you,” You smile and see Conrad coming in through the door behind her.

“Hello darling,” He presses a kiss to your temple, “Tell me what you need me to do.”

“No, no, I’ve got it here,” You encourage, “Maybe you could just set up Steven and Taylor’s room?”

“It’s going to be perfect,” He reassures you, squeezing your hand, “It’ll be a Fourth of July to never forget!” He yells back to you as he disappears upstairs.

You giggle and turn back to finishing up the plates of food you were preparing for the evening.

To say you were nervous was an understatement. There was always a sort of magic to having the fourth here, and you wanted to replicate it for them all even without Susannah here - especially now the house was yours.

—

When evening falls over the house, you’ve relaxed away from the fear of hosting. The food went down well, everyone was impressed, and the magic of the fourth that you were used to had managed to remain.

You were now all outside waiting to watch the fireworks start over the water.

“Hey, um, do you want to come with me a second?” Conrad asks you, standing up from his seat and outstretching a hand.

“Wh- don’t you want to watch the fireworks?” You frown a little at him.

“We won’t miss them, I promise,” He smiles down at you, “Come on.”

You take his hand and hear the faint whispering of Taylor and Belly behind you as Conrad leads you across the grass and down towards the wooden dock.

“What are we doing Con?” You ask as he squeezes your hand a little tighter.

“I just thought we could have a minute, just us,” He comments but you can sense something slightly off about his demeanour, something that wasn’t completely Conrad.

“Are you going to throw me in the water?” You narrow your eyes at him, “Because I-“

“I just-“ He stops himself, “Sorry.”

“What’s going on Con?” You laugh a little at him, “You’re scaring me now.”

“I don’t know how to start this,” He lets out a shaky breath, “Um…” He presses a hand to his chest.

“Con,” You place your hand over his, “Its me.”

He visibly settles, relaxing against your touch.

“I don’t know where to-“ He stops himself, “I love you (y/n).”

You feel it then. The feeling people described. Knowing what was about to come and yet not ready to prepare for it.

“And I love our life together, and I love the person I am because of you and-“ He lets himself laugh gently, “God, I just… I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you and so-“

“Oh my god,” You mumble as you watch him pull a small velvet box from his pocket, lowering down onto one knee.

He looks up at you and takes a deep breath, “(y/n) (y/l/n) will you make me the happiest man in the world an-“

“Yes!” You exclaim your hands flying to your face as tears pool in your eyes.

Conrad grins wildly and rises up onto his feet, wrapping one arm around you as the other hand reaches for yours to slot the delicate ring onto your finger.

He cups a hand to your cheek and presses a deep kiss to your lips, both of you laughing over spilling tears.

Before you can find the words, the fireworks start around you and the sky lights up into a shower of gold fireworks over the both of you.

“You didn’t let me say it,” Conrad says in your ear over the exploding sound.

“I couldn’t wait,” You laugh in return, holding him tightly against you.

“Will you marry me (y/n)?” He pulls back far enough from you to speak, eyes flicking between yours.

“Yes I will Conrad Fisher,” You beam and he grins brighter than ever before, wrapping his arms around your waist and spinning you around.

Steven and Jere cheer loudly from down by the water and Taylor and Belly scream in unison from the house, all of them applauding you for the inevitable perfection of this moment - more fireworks releasing into the air to make it even more picturesque.

And in that moment, you’re sure you’ll never feel more content.

This was it. This was everything.

—— Present Day ——

He laughs and wraps his arms tighter around you, “I like looking at all of these, what else do we have?”

“Well, this whole album is full of wedding photos,” You stretch over to pick up the detailed cream photo album, “This is the one Laurel bought us.”

It was a wedding present from the woman that was like a second Mom to both of you. She told you the memories would be more important than anything else about your day and told you to make the most of all of it being captured. It was a cream leather decorated in lace patterns with a thin bow across the front, another sheer ribbon tying the two covers together.

“Come on,” He takes the album from you and shifts on the couch so that his back is against the armrest.

You move so that you’re sat between his legs with your back against his chest and he moves his arms around either side of you to look at the album. Before he opens it, his hand comes up beside yours and locks your fingers together, both of your wedding rings settling next to each other like they were made to fit.

He opens the cover and the memories come flooding back once again, every piece of your perfect day.

—— 3 Years Ago ——

“Oh my god I’m so nervous I think I’m going to be sick,” You breathe out, pressing a hand to your chest to try to relieve the pressure there.

“Girl, you have nothing to be worried about,” Taylor encourages, fixing a few strands of your hair.

“Has anyone heard from Con? Is he okay? Is he here?” You ask frantically, checking your appearance in the mirror once again.

“That boy has been head over heels in love with you since you were sixteen, of course he’s here, and he’s probably as nervous as you are,” Belly encourages, her bridesmaids dress matching to Taylor’s in a sage green.

“But, if it helps, Steven just texted me to confirm,” Taylor comments, showing you her phone.

“God, I don’t even know why I’m nervous,” You shake your head, “It’s Conrad.”

“And (Y/n) Fisher has a nice ring to it,” Belly grins, “Are you ready to do this?”

You turn around and nod your head, breathing deeply as you look over your appearance in the mirror once more. You’d opted for a simple dress, fitted at the top with thin straps, flowing loose around your legs and poking at the floor in a small train. It was the only dress you’d looked at and seen yourself in.

The girls walk down first, ahead of you. And then you - walking down the aisle alongside your father.

He links his arm with yours and you hold on tightly as the doors open and you both step through.

So many people and all you can focus on is him.

The music starts and you start to walk, at the exact moment that Conrad turns around.

His suit is perfected from top to bottom, crisp white shirt against his black tuxedo. His hands are behind his back and you watch him squeezing them together to alleviate his nerves. But as his eyes fall on you, cool blue orbs calming yours, everything else just disappears.

You watch as his bottom lip trembles a little and he breaks into a small smile, a tear slipping down his cheek. You shake your head a little at him, the thought slipping into your mind that he promised you he wouldn’t cry, knowing him crying was only going to set you off.

Soon enough, you reach the end of the aisle and your father kisses your cheek quickly, reaching over to shake Conrad’s hand.

And then it’s just you and him. And the seventy people all watching you. But they didn’t matter. It was just him.

“Hi,” He mumbles, reaching down to hold your hand as your fingers lace with his.

“Hi,” You return, looking into his eyes for the home they always brought, “I’m so nervous,” You whisper.

“Hey, it’s me,” He responds, an echo of your own words from only a year before.

“It’s us,” You whisper once more, squeezing his hand before the two of you turn your attention to the ceremony about to begin, your ceremony.

—— Present Day ——

“I love this one,” Conrad points out a photo of the two of you, one from the evening of the wedding where his arm is around you and you’re laughing at something someone behind the camera had said, and all he can do is look at you - focus on you.

Before you can respond, the sound of crackling starts on the monitor before faint whinging breaks through the speaker.

“She’s up!” You smile, “Give me a sec-“

“No, I’ve got her,” Conrad squeezes your shoulders and pushes himself to stand up, letting you lean back against the arm of the sofa.

He disappears upstairs and you hear the bedroom door creak open followed by his bright voice at the sight in front of him.

You set down the wedding album and pull up a pile of more recent photos, all ones from the last eighteen months - the craziest and most content eighteen months of your life so far.

“Should we go and see Mummy?” Conrad’s voice speaks softly as he comes down the stairs, “She’s downstairs, yeah.”

As he steps back into the lounge, the small body on his hip wriggles down from his grip and runs over to you.

“Look who’s awake!” You grin as your daughter hurries over to the side of the couch.

You reach over and lift her up to sit on your lap, her teddy bear still tucked under her arm.

“Did you have a good nap?” You ask her and she nods tiredly.

“Daddy’s home,” Her little voice mumbles, fatigue still lacing her tone.

“Yeah, he came home early today,” You smile and Conrad walks around to take up his place on the couch once again.

Him against the arm rest, you against his chest and your daughter in front of you.

“Do you want to look through some photos with us?” Conrad raises his brows at her excitedly and she nods back at him again, her bear tugged tightly to her chest.

“I think you’re in these ones,” You mention and her eyes brighten widely.

Conrad picks up one of the photos and shows her, “Well look who it is!”

—— 1 Year Ago ——

“She’s perfect, darling,” Conrad beams down at the tiny face in front of him, held tightly in your arms and wrapped in a small pink blanket.

“She’s ours,” You whisper in return, leaning against his chest from where he was perched on the edge of your hospital bed.

“I don’t know how you did that,” He laughs quietly, both of you refusing to speak too loudly to disturb the miniature pair of ears.

“I don’t either,” You joke, and he wraps one arm around your shoulders, one of his fingers brushing over her fragile hands.

Before you can say anything else, the door opens and two familiar faces come through. Belly and Jere.

“Hey…” Jeremiah hisses, “They said we were okay to come in.”

“Yeah, come in man,” Conrad grins, standing up to greet them, “It’s so good to see you guys.”

The brothers both grasp each other in a hug that echoes every ounce of pride they shared before Conrad greets Belly with a warm hug too.

“We brought you some presents,” Belly comments, setting down a powder pink gift bag onto the bedside table.

“Thanks guys,” Conrad smiles, taking up his place next to you again.

“So, have you thought of a name for this little one yet?” Jeremiah asks, smiling brightly at both of you.

You exchange a glance with Conrad before nodding at him as if in encouragement for him to say.

“Yeah, actually,” He takes a deep breath, looking down at his daughter, “This is Darcie Susannah Fisher.”

Belly gasps, “Oh, it’s perfect.”

“Darcie Susannah,” Jeremiah repeats, tears building in his eyes, “I… Mom would be so proud.”

Conrad leans down to take the bundle of pink from your arms, holding her cautiously in his grip before turning to his brother, “Well, Uncle Jeremiah, do you want to hold your niece?”

—— Present Day ——

“Who’s that Darcie?” Conrad points at a photo from when she’d first come home, laying with the same teddy bear that she still refused to ever let out of her sight.

“Me!” She exclaims, tapping excitedly at the small face on the photo.

“It is you,” You chuckle in return, “And here’s you with uncle Jeremiah when we took you to the beach.”

She claps at the sight of Jeremiah on the page, who has self proclaimed himself as the favourite uncle.

“Do you want a snack Darcie?” You ask her calmly, holding her in your arms to focus her short attention on you.

Your daughter nods back, her small smile making her look like the spitting image of her father. He always told you that she reminded him of you, but she was almost exactly like her father in your eyes. To everyone else, she was an exact mix of the two - an addition to the two that were meant to find each other.

“I’ll get it,” Conrad assures you, stepping back up from the couch.

“Oh isn’t Daddy good?” You grin at Darcie, tickling under her arms as she laughs under your touch, her giggle echoing in your ears.

Conrad stops in his tracks, looking down at the sight in front of him. His tiny version of perfection in a vast world. You, him, his daughter. This house. This family. This home. This everything. He’s sure he’ll never be happier, but still so sure that this happiness will never fade. This was everything and it always would be.

“Daddy!” Darcie exclaims, making grabby hands towards him.

“What are you doing?” You laugh a little at his frozen state, the way he seems so stopped in his tracks.

“I’m…” He chuckles, “I love you.”

Conrad leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, taking Darcie from your arms and hitching her onto his hip, chattering away to her as the two disappear into the kitchen.

You grin, standing up from the couch with a photo of the three of you in your hands. You rummage through the drawers to find a spare photo frame and slip the photo into place, fixing the clasps around the back before setting the photo frame onto a free place on the fireplace.

Conrad and Darcie come back in, with a small bowl of popcorn for her and a bigger one for you and him.

“What are you doing?” He asks you, setting Darcie down onto her playmat.

You turn around and smile at him, “I love you too.”

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cozyforjate · 10 months

Text

It surprises me when people say Chapel doesn’t have a trait, personality, or plotline other than being Spock’s love interest... Let me list all the things we know and have seen about this amazing character.

Christine Chapel is a nurse on The Enterprise. She is on civilian exchange from the Stanford Morehouse Epigenetic Project. She is also a part of Starfleet’s initiative to better observe alien cultures without contamination.

M’Benga treats her as an equal. Pike called her “doctor” in the very first episode which suggests that her medical knowledge and experience must be impressive.

She is an expert on genetic modification. She can mess with your genome and temporarily turn you into an Alien. And she makes it look easy.

She is also interested in archeological medicine. She is doing fieldwork, making discoveries, and writing papers on the subject while doing her other duties on the ship.

Long story short she is quite the genius!

She is outgoing, friendly, witty, funny, adventurous, strong, brave but also compassionate and emotional.

She doesn’t judge, she accepts people for who they are.

She is confident in her abilities. She doesn’t take anyone’s BS. “I don’t think the Vulcan Fellowship is ready for me”… No one, not even Vulcans can bully or make her feel insecure.

But when she was a kid she was bullied. Milo, her Malamute, bit one of those bullies. Good boy!

As it was implied in one of the episodes she is most probably bi.

She has a vulnerable side. She is afraid of commitment. Afraid of romantic relationships getting deep. Perhaps even afraid of falling in love. She uses humor when things get too serious or personal for her. There is a story waiting to unfold in time. And i can’t wait to know more of it!

She was in the Klingon War with M'Benga. They witnessed the ugly face of war and had to make some hard decisions. They used (perhaps even developed) an illegal serum that temporarily gives them enough power and stamina to survive against Klingons. This left a scar on her as much as it did on M'Benga. We will revisit this story in episode 8 (i guess).

She knows how to fight. She is a quick thinker during stressful situations. And she is a badass. For example, she can handle space pirates and all she needs is a hypospray! She can deal with baby Gorns and survive!

She is heroic. She would jump into space without an EV suit to prevent a war.

Oh and she is also Spock's love interest and it's a delicious relationship that enrichens both characters.

This is what we got in 15 episodes. I'm sure we'll learn more about her and she will get new storylines in the seasons to come.

#in this house we stan Christine Chapel #haters gonna hate #btw romance doesn't destroy a female character if its well written #but romance is not Chapel's only thing #you just have to watch the episodes #and care about the character #jess bush is a gem #she is such a great actress #christine chapel #my favorite character in SNW #star trek strange new worlds #strange new worlds #star trek snw #spapel #spock and chapel

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aloysiavirgata · 2 days

Note

How about some middle-aged reflections on the early days of their (romantic/sexual) relationship?

They’re spreading mulch around the trees, tucking flowerbeds in for winter. The air is crisp and dry, sharpened by the pungent smell of the mulch.

“Got the Stanford alumni newsletter yesterday,” Scully says. “Guess who their new entomology professor is.”

He frowns back, puzzled. Her tone indicates that the answer is one he should get. Does he know any entomologists?

Mulder starts to shake his head. “I have no-“

He sees her face, the smirk she’s trying hide, and then he remembers. “Nooooo,” he says, drawing the word out with a laugh. “Bambi?”

“Bambi,” she confirms, grinning now. “Did you sleep with her? I honestly can’t remember.”

“No!” He’s a bit shocked that she thought this. He’d kind of wanted to though, he recalls. Little khaki shorts.

Scully rolls her eyes. “Oh, sorry to impugn your virtue.”

Mulder offers her a petulant look. “You make it sound like I was Wilt Chamberlain-ing my way through every case.”

She leans against the big sycamore, scoffs. “You’re mighty defensive there, Marty.”

He grins back. “Judge away. You weren’t putting out yet. Not to me, anyway.”

Scully laughs. “We were so young.”

“We were so young.”

She rolls her palms around the rake handle, her beautiful slim fingers with oval nails like the inside of a seashell. She’d been pretty back then, he thinks. Lovely. But now she’s ethereal, refined to some radiant essence.

“I think….hmm. I think some part of me really felt that if you and I followed the rules then everyone else had to as well, you know?” Her expression is a little wistful. A little sad.

He does know. “I like to think it made it that much sweeter in the end.”

“It did. I loved you so…so….purely. I remember when you made it to that Congressional hearing. I think I was done then. The rest was just waiting to happen.” She laughs, a little shy even now.

“You were like Beatrice,” he says to her, adoringly, in the honeyed light. “Come to lead me into Paradise.”

Scully drops the rake, walks over to take his hands in hers. “Is this heaven?” she asks, gazing up.

Mulder smiles back, squeezes her cool little fingers. The wind chimes on the deck ripple like harp strings. The sun makes a halo on her tawny head.

#xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #msr #my fic #prompt #inbox #bambi berenbaum #war of the coprophages

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perplexedflower · 7 years

Text

Connection

Fandom: Gravity Falls.

Category: F/M.

Relationship: Stanford Pines x Female Reader.

Type: One shot.

Words: 3,830.

Summary: Stanford Pines is anything but used to romance, but when the young woman he has fallen for confesses her feelings to him, it feels to him as though they were destined to be together…

Chronology: Late Season 2.

~~~~~~~~~~

I felt a little dizzy as my body began to tremble, but after one slow, deep breath, I regained my composure and walked out of the attic. After having spent so long, so much time, so many days debating with myself, I had finally made up my mind: that day was the day I would dare approach Stanford and confess to him everything that weighed on my mind. At last.

I made my way down the staircase and up to the vending machine, alone in the room; that afternoon was bright and sunny, thankfully for me, as all the others were spending their time outside the shack. The last thing I wanted was for one of them to walk in on me confessing my love to Stanford, and the sheer thought of such a thing happening was enough to bring knots to my stomach.

Still standing in front of the vending machine, I input the code to the basement on the pad, a code only the Stan twins knew better than I did, a code I typed in every day, a code that had become so important to me.

Come on, [Y/N]... You can do it. I motivated myself through thought as I watched the secret door open. You've prepared yourself for this day, for this exact moment... You can do it.

With the vending machine now retracted, I took a deep breath once more, sensing my nervousness rise as my stomach truly began to ache, my heart beating faster in my chest than it had ever before. For the second time, I found myself faced with a flight of stairs: I walked down each step, one by one, until I arrived at the elevator. With a slightly trembling index finger, I pressed the button that led to the last floor, which was home to the now-broken portal. While I waited inside the elevator, I continuously repeated to myself the speech I had prepared, the speech I intended to give to Stanford. And the second the elevator stopped moving and the doors slowly opened, I knew my time had come.

Seated on his chair, Stanford was pacing back and forth between all corners of the room, whether it was his desk, shelves, or even the ground, promptly standing up to grab some of his tools off the floor before he sat right back down. For but a moment, it was clear he had not yet noticed I was present in the room with him, until I took a few steps forward in his direction: then, he instantly recognized the sound of my footsteps and finally turned around to me.

From the other end of the room, he showed me a warm smile that made my heart flutter.

"Good afternoon, [Y/N]." He said cheerfully while he brushed the dust off his clothes with his hands. "How are you feeling today? Good, I hope."

"Good afternoon, Ford." I said back to him as I tried to sound as nonchalant as I could. "I'm fine, yes, thank you for asking. And what about you?"

"I'm doing great." He answered, still smiling. "In fact, I'm doing very well."

"Really, how so?"

"Well, I can't quite yet tell you much about it, but my current research is coming along nicely, to say it all." He told me with delight.

"Oh, that's fantastic news!" I exclaimed enthusiastically.

I stared at Stanford in the eyes, pretending to be jolly, when my heart rate was in fact racing.

"Oh, but enough about all that." He said as he took a step toward me while gesturing his hands. "Tell me, [Y/N], why are you not outside? I would have expected to see you out there, enjoying such a sunny day."

"You're one to talk, you know?" I teased him with a light chuckle. "But, as for me... Well..."

The old ceiling lamp above our heads emanated a low light that mixed in orange and red, which faintly reflected against the lenses of Stanford's glasses, making them sparkle just slightly.

"You see, Ford..." I started, the volume of my voice diminishing with each word. "God, it's just so hard to say it..."

As my hands began to tremble and awkwardly twist their fingers, he took yet another step in my direction, which brought him right in front of me.

"[Y/N], are you sure everything's all right?" He asked me with concern while he rested a delicate hand on one of my shoulders. "Is something the matter?"

To avoid his gaze, I lowered my head and stared at the ground, at my feet, just in front of his.

"Ford... There's something I have to tell you." I finally managed to say. "It's... really important... to me. That's why I'm here and not outside with the others."

While I spoke, I simply could not resist the urge to look down at Stanford's hand, holding my shoulder in place with a firm grip, yet without too much pressure; and the longer I stared at it, the longer I felt his touch on me, the more I could sense my heart pounding in my chest. I could tell my cheeks were progressively turning pink as I allowed my eyes to wander, leaving his hand to trace up his arm, detailing the outline of his muscles through the sleeve of his coat.

It's undeniable that the 30 years Ford spent stuck in-between dimensions have toughened him up... by a lot. I thought to myself. He's told me before that back when he and Stanley were little, he would get pushed around by other kids, even bullied. Then, growing up into adulthood, as a scientist and researcher, he never quite had a muscular physique, unlike his twin brother. But now, I look at him... and I can't help but feel a sense of pride seeing the man he has become.

I quickly pulled myself out of my thoughts and diverted my eyes from his arm, then cleared my throat before I looked back up at his face.

"I have to tell you that... I'm really glad that Stanley made the right choice to save you and bring you back here... and that Mabel decided not to press that button." I told him with genuine affection. "Stanford, I like you, and-"

"Oh, how sweet of you, [Y/N]." He exclaimed with a smile as he interrupted me. "I know it may not always seem like it, but I'm actually truly happy to be back, to be here, beside you all, even Stanley... And that includes you, of course. I like you too, [Y/N]."

With a grin still displayed on his face, he leaned forward and moved his hand from my shoulder to my head: his palm tousled my hair, after which he started to walk back to his desk, assuming our conversation was over and that he could go back to his work.

"T-Thank you, Ford, but you don't get it-" I said with a sad smile while I shook my head slowly, my eyebrows furrowed. "I like you, Stanford... I love you."

It felt as though my words echoed throughout the room, bouncing off the walls, surrounding us wholly, resonating within our heads. He immediately stopped walking, his foot frozen in mid-air, and remained still, his back turned to me; although I could not see his face, I could feel mine growing hot with blush, an expression of conflicted emotions on my face.

"... Hum- You know what? Forget I said anything." I mumbled as I stared at his back. "I... don't know what came over me, but just- ignore it... please..."

The more I tried to express myself properly, the longer I spent choosing my words, the more teardrops escaped my eyes, rolling down across my cheeks and ending their course on the ground.

"This... must sound like complete nonsense to you... I'm sure you're thinking I've lost my mind."

While I still stared at his back, still turned to me, Stanford still motionless, I took a blind step backward, then another.

"... I'm very sorry to have disturbed you, Stanford... You may resume your work, now."

The second I finished speaking, I promptly turned around and nervously pressed the button on the elevator: and as I stepped inside, I anxiously waited to hear him say something, anything, but he remained quiet. I pressed a second button, this time to order the elevator to go back up to the surface. After a second of silence that felt excruciatingly long, the two doors closed, and the moment the elevator started to move, I broke into tears.

I was still sobbing when, shortly after, I walked out of the elevator, climbing the secret stairs back up to arrive back into the room. I was too emotionally compromised to truly scan my surroundings, but I was still able to tell all the others were still busy, as the room was still empty.

I need... to be alone... I told myself. I need to find a place... somewhere, anywhere...

I knew the attic was out of the question, considering Dipper and Mabel could have very well been there, and so was the kitchen, given how much time Stanley spent in it; the only place that was left, the only place I could think of was the secret room Soos had discovered the other day, by pure accident. Once standing in front of the door, I gave it a soft push with my hand, too feeble to put any amount of strength into my movements. But as physically weak as I felt, I stepped inside the room without even an ounce of hesitation.

Once I was in, I closed the door behind me then took a look around the dim room, plunged into darkness, and, soon enough, my eyes spotted a couch: without a second thought, I made my way to it and sat down, bringing both of my legs onto the sofa. The temperature in the room was quite cold, which forced me to bury my face into the sweater I was wearing, a sweater Mabel had knitted for me. And as I sat in the dark, I let my tears flow, pouring out of my eyes like a river.

For a while, although I had no notion of how long it had been, I did not move from my spot, nor did I stop weeping, surrounded by my overwhelming thoughts in the midst of obscurity. That was, until I heard the door of the room open behind me, in such a slow and gentle manner it was almost inaudible.

Without sticking my head out of my sweater, I shook my head at the sound.

"I don't know who you are, but frankly, I don't care." I let out in-between two tears, my voice muffled. "Please... go away... I just need some time on my own..."

Despite my pitiful request, the person decided to walk in anyway, and I felt my heart twist into knots when I recognized the sound of their footsteps on the creaking floor, the sound of old, muddy boots. They continued, growing closer and closer to me, until they stopped, right beside me, and after but only a second, I felt his body sit down on the couch, just next to mine.

"[Y/N]... Please, listen." Stanford started in a tone so gentle it was almost a whisper. "You may think you've lost your mind, but you're far from it, trust me."

His voice and his words reached my ears and instantly enveloped me in a sensation of safety, of warmth, of comfort, and a part of me was already soothed, just listening to them, no matter how much I craved to be alone at that moment.

Though hesitantly, I slowly raised my head from my sweater, revealing the upper part of my face, though the rest was still concealed: and in an instant, my eyes were met with his, his gaze soft and affectionate.

"Because of... what you've told me, you see yourself as a freak... as some kind of monster. And you know this is something I can relate to, [Y/N]. I've had similar thoughts in the past, when I was a child, after other people would make fun of me for my weirdness, especially my polydactyly. But no matter how many times I got pushed around, I always- well, almost always had my brother by my side, to remind me I should not be ashamed of who I am... Just like you have us."

Ever so gently, Stanford extended one of his hands to me, reaching down into my sweater to grab my chin between his thumb and index finger. And that one single gesture tore my heart in half.

I already know how all of this is going to end... Ford is going to comfort me, to try and make me feel better, but he's not going to bring up again my love declaration, he's going to ignore my feelings for him... He'd rather avoid mentioning it, finding it easier to pretend as if it never happened... and this tension between us would remain.

With my face still held by his hand, he stared deeply into my eyes, though it appeared his confidence was progressively fading away.

"[Y/N], I... I don't... quite know how to say this..."

His face turned pink as he broke eye contact with me, his eyes restless.

"I've never really... done this type of thing... ever, you see, so..."

But eventually, after looking for the right words for some time, he looked back into my eyes, this time with strong determination.

"I love you too, [Y/N]." He blurted out bashfully.

Upon hearing his words, my eyes opened wide and my heart stopped beating. I was already convinced my imagination had played a trick on me, unable to believe what Stanford had just said to be the truth.

"... This... is not something I thought I would say today, but I assure you that I mean it, no matter how unbelievable it may sound to you." He further confessed, his words heavy. "I've had feelings for you ever since the day I first made your acquaintance. I saw you for the first time and... found you... beautiful. I talked to you for the first time and thought your personality was wonderful. Then I saw how well you got along with my family, with Stanley and the kids, and... I felt something I had never really felt before."

He marked a pause, his voice slightly shaky and his face shifting from pink to red.

"... A-And, at first, I couldn't believe it was love, I put the blame on... on the fact that you simply had been the first woman my eyes landed on after 30 years outside of this dimension, but-... But soon enough, I had to be rational and face the truth... I understood I truly had fallen for you."

Although I kept quiet, I could very distinctively tell what was going through Stanford's mind, especially given the facial expressions he was switching between as he spoke.

"But I... I didn't say anything." He continued, lowering his eyes to avoid mine. "I didn't know how to properly apprehend these feelings, how to confess them to you... For a man my age, all of this shouldn't be a problem, but... well, my experience is close to none. I understand your own hesitation regarding your feelings came from our age gap, and, quite frankly, so did mine. I just couldn't find a way to let you know about mine without coming across as a pervert... So I decided to bottle it all up."

After his last sentence, silence reigned for a moment, and I understood his speech had finally come to an end; the two of us were now staring straight at each other, our gazes locked on, neither of us saying a word. Only then did Stanford remember he was still holding my chin, and only then did he realize his speech had gone on for much longer than he himself had intended, judging by the look on his face. His eyes suddenly opened wide, his cheeks still buried under a thick layer of blush as he let go of my face, visibly embarrassed.

"I-I'm sorry, [Y/N]- I said too much, didn't I?" He asked me, seemingly shameful. "I must have spoken for too long- You said you wanted to be left alone, so... I'll be going, now-"

He hurriedly stood up from the sofa as he nervously pushed his glasses on his nose. He promptly made his way to the door of the room, but before I could let him get too far away from me, I extended an arm toward him and reached for the bottom of his coat: as he felt my hand tug at the fabric, he turned back around and looked at me, at the single tear rolling down my cheek.

"Stay." I said in a whisper. "... Please."

Stanford's eyes remained on me, on my face, which was now begging for his presence, and he could feel it; all while staring down at me, he walked back to the couch and sat back down, this time even closer to me, close enough to wrap his arms around my body and bring it down against his as he lay back slightly. His embrace felt warm and secure, yet so overwhelming as well. With my face nestled in the crook of his neck, I closed my eyes and took multiple deep breaths, his natural scent soothing me further with each passing second.

As I listened to the sound of his heart beating faster in his chest, I felt one of his hands rub my back gently, shortly followed by a kiss he left on the crown of my head. Both of us found peace and tranquility within that moment, that moment of serenity and quietness; but the silence did not last for long, as I let out a heavy sigh.

"... I'm sorry, Ford." I said, my voice slightly muffled against his skin.

"What for?" He kindly asked while looking down at me.

"For... all of this. For having waited all this time to let you know how I feel, and for having made you repress your own feelings. Because of me... we've wasted so much time we could have spent... this way."

Stanford chuckled, a genuine laugh that made my heart skip a beat and turned the tips of my ears red.

"You don't need to apologize for such things, [Y/N]." He stated as he brought his hands down on my shoulders.

With slow and gentle care, he pulled me out of his embrace, just slightly, just enough so that he could look down at me, so that our faces could meet, so that he could show me his bright smile.

"You're not responsible for any of this, and if we follow your way of thinking, logic would have it I need to apologize too. But neither of us is at fault, here. So, please, don't burden yourself with guilt."

With a shy smile, I closed my eyes and nodded. When I opened them again, I was still faced with his loving smile, with his affectionate gaze; and, after but a brief moment of uncertainty and indecision, I slowly brought my hand up to his face and gently rested my palm on his cheek, which led to the blush on his cheeks intensifying. As my fingers drifted down along his jaw and then his neck, I tilted my head a little.

I've... never really been this close to Ford before... It might take some getting used to... But I get the feeling that won't be an issue.

Our eyes gazed deeply into one another as my other hand found its way to his torso, my palm slowly rising and falling along his heaving chest, along the rhythm of his heartbeat. One of his hands left my shoulders to hold my waist, while the other held the nape of my neck, his fingers delicately running through my hair. Our faces grew closer to each other, the air around us filled with anticipation and excitement, until we both tilted our heads and closed our eyes: our lips met and our embrace grew tighter, finally sharing together this special moment we had waited so long to see happen.

My hand on his neck moved to the collar of his sweater, which I grabbed passionately while I felt Stanford furrow his eyebrows, his lips sighing against mine, cherishing the moment as he held me against his body. But the moment inevitably came to an end when we both pulled away, slightly out of breath, slightly panting, in an atmosphere that had all of a sudden become heavy. The two of us were still nervous, even now that we had kissed, and I could tell Stanford was feeling particularly awkward: with a soft smile, I tugged at his sweater and leaned forward to leave one more kiss on his lips, catching him off-guard. After I pulled away, I stared into his wide-open eyes with love as I caressed his blushing cheek.

"That was wonderful, Ford." I told him enthusiastically in a reassuring tone.

While still smiling, I readjusted his glasses on his nose a little better, seeing as they had slightly slipped down during our kiss.

"For a man in his 60s who's barely ever kissed a woman before, you're quite a good kisser." I added, teasing him playfully.

My compliment made him chuckle, somewhat awkwardly but mostly with genuine affection.

"Well... Thank you, [Y/N]." He said while blushing. "You're... really good yourself."

My body imitated his and I felt the redness on my face intensify as I giggled lightly. Both of his hands traveled back down around my waist, which he grabbed firmly, though without applying too much pressure.

"Well... The afternoon is far from over, so why don't you and I go back to the basement?" He suggested happily, visibly excited at the idea of keeping this conversation going elsewhere. "I'll show you a glimpse of what I've been working on these past few days."

"I like the sound of that." I replied just as happily.

With the help of my hips, his hands moved my body to the side, freeing his so that he could stand up from the couch: then, as he stared down into my eyes, he opened the palm of his hand to me.

"Then, let's get back to work... Shall we, sweetheart?"

I felt my pulse accelerate greatly upon hearing him call me by such a pet name, but I did my best to keep my composure as I nodded and put my palm in his.

Hand in hand, Stanford and I walked out of the room and headed to the basement, where we spent the rest of the day together, exchanging more than just words, until the sun went down and the moon went up.

#stanford pines #stanford pines x reader #stanford pines x you #stanford pines fanfiction #stanford pines fanfictions #stanford pines one shot #stanford pines one shots #stanford pines imagine #stanford pines imagines #gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls fanfictions #gravity falls one shot #gravity falls one shots #gravity falls imagine #gravity falls imagines #gf #female reader #perplexedflower

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wosowrites · 1 year

Text

Our Story (Jessie Fleming x Reader)

warnings: ⚠️mentions of s3x⚠️

a/n: there will not be a part two too this story. Choose the ending you please. based off this request here

prompt: after jessie and reader broke up a few years back, jessie joins chelsea. the chelsea girls try to set them up, unaware of their history, but all that gets revealed during a game of truth or dare.

You met Jessie in 2017 at her first game for UCLA. You played for Stanford, and had been playing for them for two years now. Jessie scored a goal on her debut for UCLA, a screamer, and beat Stanford 1-0. Although annoyed, you were impressed, and a little star stuck buy the young canadian. One thing led to another, and you started dating. Long distance was hard, but man was Jessie worth it. You both lasted about a year and a half, and then things went down hill.

Your father got ill and you were balancing school, football and taking care of him, and it got too much. Breaking up with her broke your heart, but you knew it was right.

A month after your breakup, your father died.

You graduated university with a 3.9 GPA, 76 appearances for Stanford, and 46 goals. Dozens of clubs wanted you, they wanted you bad. But of course, one stuck out. Chelsea. You signed immediately, moved to London and started your life all over again over there. A month in, you were a regular started for Emma Hayes. You made connections at Chelsea, met the best people and made the best memories. But you missed Jessie, every day, you longed for her, and every day, you buried that longing and channeled it into football.

You were thriving, two years into your three year contract with Chelsea, you had 53 appearances and 27 goals. You had heard that there would be a new signing in the summer and you were excited. You loved helping the new players, you were a people pleaser and were naturally welcoming.

However, the day you were supposed to meet the new singing was a day you had a sponsorship signing with Nike so you arrived to training a few hours late.´ When you got there, it was a lift session. You walked into the gym, scanning the room for anyone new. No one.

"Where’s the new girl?" You asked Millie. "She’s talking with Emma in her office. You’ll never guess who it is," your national teammate said. "Why? We know her?" you asked, looking towards the door, waiting for her to walk in. "Hell yeah we do," Millie said, stretching the suspense. "Jesus, Mills! Just tell me!" you shrieked, the excitement too much. "Jessie Fleming."

You could have passed out. Your heart dropped, your face fell and your eyes widened. "No," you said sternly. "Uhm… yeah," Millie said, confused.

Your relationship with Jessie wasn’t exactly public. People knew but they didn’t know know. Your teammates didn’t ask questions as you weren’t out yet, they just didn’t talk to you about that kind of stuff. So it made sense that your national teammates didn’t know about Jessie. "She’s good too. She was a machine in training. Well, we know that. Played against Canada a couple of times." Millie said.

And then she walked in.

Her face as freckled as ever, her eyes as brown and furious as they were when you were both in university. And man… she looked good in blue. Your eyes locked with hers and she looked lost. There was no way she didn’t know you played for Chelsea, she must have done her research before coming here, right?

"Um. That’s- yeah. Good signing," you stuttered, looking back to Millie. "Yeah… spot me?" Millie asked.

You absentmindedly spotted the girl, knowing that if she did need the help you wouldn’t be able to get the bar, Millie was too strong and lifted too heavy.

Your eyes didn’t leave Jessie as Magda walked over to her, fulfilling her captains duties. "You’ll love it here. And you’ll love y/n. She’s great with the newcomers," Magda said to Jessie as they walked towards you. "Oh. I don’t want to bother her, she looks busy," Jessie said, stopping in her tracks. "Nah she’s good, I’m done my reps anyways," Millie said, sitting up and walking off.

You were standing as straight as a board, staring at Jessie. You were both blushing furiously and extremely uncomfortable. "She’s being weird today. Don’t worry she’s… more humanoid usually," Magda teased. "Haha Magdalena," you answered. "Hi, I’m y/n y/l/n."

You didn’t know why you had said that, why you had introduced yourself to her like that as though you hadn’t lost your virginity to her.

Jessie looked absolutely shocked, and maybe… a little hurt too. But she played along. She stuck her hand out and you shook hands. "Jessie Fleming."

You felt sick as you changed into your regular clothes. You felt even more sick as you were number 18, and Jessie would be right beside you as you both changed every day.

You were quick to shower and then put your clothes on, trying your very best to not think of the fact that you were still in love with the shirtless girl next to you.

You hurried out of the changing room, the first to be gone and when you got out, you leaned up against the wall and exhaled heavily. You hadn’t realized how much of a breath you had been holding.

You didn’t hear the door open again, and you didn’t see that someone was walking towards you as your eyes were closed. "Why did you do that?" A voice asked.

You jumped out of your skin, letting out a scream. "Fleming! Shit you scared me. Why did I do what?" you asked, a hand over your heart. "Why did you introduce yourself to me as though I haven’t seen you naked," Jessie said.

You didn’t remember her being this straightforward, but then again, two years can change someone completely. "Don’t say that. Just… Jessie no one can know we dated. We can’t be known as the exes on the team. I want you to do well here, and I know you will do well but i’m not casting a shadow over your opportunities by just… being a distraction," you said. "Okay. We don’t tell anyone," Jessie said.

"We don’t tell anyone."

One month later

Two first two weeks were extremely awkward, but after that, you settled in with each other. You and Jessie even started talking, laughing, and forgetting your past. It didn’t go unnoticed to the team how natural your connection with Jessie was. But they thought it was just they you were good together and not that you had years of history.

"So… you and Jessie are pretty cozy," Magda said as you sat beside her in the bus. Those words made Sam and Pernille, who were sitting in front of you, perk up. They both stood up and turned around to look at you both. "I noticed that too," Sam said. "Me too," Pernille added. "We’re not cozy. We’re friendly. Now shut up because she’s two rows in front of you and she has really good hearing. She’s also not wearing her airpods," you said, slouching in your seat. "And you know this because you’re extremely observant or because you’re obsessed with her?" Sam teased.

You stood up and pushed Sam’s shoulders down, making her laugh loudly and drawing attention. "Shut up, Samantha," you breathed in her ear. "Yes mom," she said, rolling her eyes. "You’re older than me!"

The Blues went out to dinner than night after beating Leceister 5-0. You got a reservation to a Mexican place you all really liked. "You’ll love it here, it’s really good," you said to Jessie. "You know how much I like Mexican food," Jessie says, your voices low.

You walked into the place, the owner sat you down herself. She knew you all well, having served you multiple times throughout the years. You ordered tacos and leaned into Jessie who was sitting beside you to tell her how good the fish tacos were here. "They’re not too spicy either. I know you’re not big on the spice," you said to her.

Your interaction caught the eyes of your teammates who smiled too each other. "So. Fleming. Girlfriend? Boyfriend? Single?" Erin asked. Jessie turned bright red and shrunk her head into her shoulders. "Guys!" you hissed to the ground. "No it’s okay. Uhm… single. But… I haven’t dated anyone since my university days." Jessie said.

You tensed in your seat, pushing your shoulders back and biting your cheek. You didn’t know if she meant you, or if she had dated someone else. "But we broke up about two years ago." She added.

So it was you she was talking about. A small smile spread on your face, happy she hasn’t dated anyone else. But you let it fall quickly, catching yourself and cursing yourself. "Why?" Guro asked. "Guro! Magda control your children," you said. "Hey, you can play mother cause I’m off duty," the swede said, raising her beer in cheers.

You sighed loudly.

"She… she was going through family things," Jessie said. "I was too much for her."

"No," you said, before you could stop yourself. Everyone looked at you. "I mean- don’t think that. Im sure she didn’t think you were too much. She was probably just… scared she wouldn’t give you the attention you deserved."

Jessie held eye contact with you, nodding gently. "Maybe. If you say so."

"How about you, y/n? Anyone special. Saw that you often talk to Batlle after we play Man U," Sophie asked you.

You have the girls a 'what are you up too?' look that they ignored. "Ona is a friend. She’s very nice but she’s… not someone I’m interested in," you said, avoiding eye contract with Jessie at all costs. "And who are you interested in?"

This time, Niahm was the one asking the question. She was sat next to you and you looked over at her. "I had a relationship a while back and I wasn’t a good girlfriend. I’m not interested in anyone."

Lie.

But no one questioned it as the food arrived and the hungry group focused on the amazing meal before them.

"Smooth," Jessie whispered in your ear, her breath tickling your neck.

You found yourself with your heart pounding, and your thighs squeezed together.

One week later

"You and Fleming. That’s our pitch."

Sam, Guro and Erin had ran up to you as you drank water after training. They had told you they had an idea.

"No." you said sternly, sitting down on the bench and taking off your shin pads. "Yes!! Please! Magda, Pernille, Millie and Aniek are talking to her about it right now. You would be so cute together, we’re begging you. Just go out on one date," Sam said.

"Guys…" you groaned, taking off your cleats and putting on your slides, your socks bunched at your ankles. "Why not? We have team bonding tonight but tomorrow… you guys could go… well I don’t know where you two nerds would want to go too but please," Guro said.

"No! Please- I. Listen. Jessie is…" you pursed your lips together, not knowing what to say. "Jessie is beautiful. And she’s smart and funny and cute but I’m not good for her. You need to drop it. And tell the other girls that too."

You stood up and walked inside to the locker rooms. Some of the girls who weren’t meddling in yours and Jessie’s possible relationship were changing. "Mills, meeting at your house at 6:00?" you asked the defender. "Yeah. See you there," Millie said.

She left the room and you followed suite a minute after. As you opened the door, Jessie and the group that had gone to talk to her we’re coming back. "You guys would be so-"

Aniek’s words got cut off as she saw you. You held your gaze with them for a second before shaking your head and walking away in the other direction.

You arrived at Millie’s late, cursing the fact that your car was so old and shitty. "I’m so sorry," you said to Magda as she opened the door. "But I brought wine and it’s good wine," you added, holding up the bottle. "Then all is forgiven," she said, hugging you gently. "Sorry about the Fleming ambush," she said as you both pulled away. "It’s all good," you said as you took off your jordan’s.

You guys walked into Millie’s oddly large living room. You took a seat on the floor, leaning against the couch, and Magda sat on the side of her girlfriends lap. "Okay while you were out doing god knows what-" Sam started saying. "My car broke down," you interrupted. "Didn’t ask," Sam said, making you and the room giggle. "As I was saying, when you weren’t here we each wrote two questions and two dares and put it in this horrifying hat-" Sam started to explain. "Hey! That’s my boyfriends hat," Millie pouted. "Yeah and it’s ugly. So. Point of the game is literally just truth or dare but every time you don’t want to do something you have to take a shot."

Sam showed you a bottle of tequila and waved in the direction of a few shot glasses. "Wait but I brought wine. It was like 30 pound wine," you said. "Why does it seem like you’re 30?" Guro teased as you scrunched your face at her.

"Whatever. Let’s start." You laughed.

20 minutes into the game, you had stayed relatively safe. You had gotten a dare card that made you have to ditch a piece of clothing, but you had a tank top under your hoodie anyways. Niahm had to sit on your lap for two rounds and you had been asked truths like 'biggest fear' and ‘player you secretly hate"

It was all fun. That is until it was your turn again.

You grabbed the hat, Niahm finally being able to get out of your lap. "Okay then…" you said, reaching into it and feeling around.

You pulled out a slip of paper and opened it dramatically. You read the words and then shook your head. "Nope. Give me the tequila," you said, reaching out for the bottle. "Wait! You have to tell us what it says first," Pernille said, trying to grab the paper. "Hey! Hands off!" you giggled, letting yourself fall backwards to get out of the blondes reach. You laid on your back as you read the words. "It says 'tell us the story of how you lost your virginity.' And I am not doing that."

You sat back up to the girls booing you. "Oh be mature!" you scowled, noticing Jessie blushing in the corner. "Ohhh I get it." Guro said, smiling to herself. "Get what?" you asked, your heart racing quicker than it should. "You’re a 25 year old virgin. It’s okay! No need to be embarrassed." Guro said, making the room laugh.

"I am not!" You said, trying to defend yourself. "Then prove it. Tell us the story." Erin said. "You know we’ve known you for forever and we barely know anything about you from your years before Chelsea," Pernille added.

You locked eyes with Jessie briefly, who nodded once. "Okay. Now before you guys judge me too harshly, let’s remember that I grew up in Milton Keynes and everybody was straight. Yes I knew Leah, yes I was deep in the closet till I was 22. And let’s also remember that I was solely focused of football. So I only lost my virginity when I went to university. I went to Stanford and played for the football team there. I met a girl… she played for UCLA and we started dating," you said, starting your story.

"Oh! Did Jessie know her?" Guro asked. "Let me finish my story!" you said to the Norwegian. "Anyways. As I said, we started dating. I was 19, turning 20 soon and she was 18. I was never big on hookups, I always wanted my first time to be special. So when I started dating the UCLA girl, and when I started falling in love with her, I knew I wanted to do it with her. Two months into our relationship, she came to Stanford and we had sex in my dorm room. And it was great although she did kick me in the face accidentally as I was taking her pants off," you said, laughing and smiling quickly at Jessie. "And that’s the story. It’s not very interesting," you said.

"Oh I think it’s very interesting," Magda said. Your gaze crossed hers and you looked at her, realizing immediately that she knew. "I-." you stuttered but she shook her head no. Magda did not meddle.

"Wait a second… oh my god," Niahm said. "Y/n… there was a team bonding you couldn’t come too because you were sick last month. We played this game and Jessie got that question. She said the exact same story but from the other persons perspective. She said that she dated an older Stanford girl and that she kicked her in the face during-"

"YOUR GIRLFRIEND WAS JESSIE?!" Sam yelled, standing up and looking absolutely flabbergasted.

You laughed and smiled at her. "Bingo," you said.

The rest of the night was spent with the girls asking a thousand questions and then finally, you convinced them to keep the game going. And it did. When jessie’s turn came, she picked out a paper. "Let the person on your left decide who… who you need to play seven minutes in heaven with."

And then suddenly, you were squished in a closet with Jessie. Her breath on your neck, her freckles somehow visible even in the darkness.

"Is it okay that I told them? I was just tired of them trying to set us up and it’s obvious you aren’t interested so-" you started saying. "What makes you say that?" Jessie asked, her eyebrows scrunching adorably. "Well. I don’t know. Are you?" you asked, a spark of hope in your heart. "I miss you. And i’m sorry about your dad. I wish I could have helped you through his death. I should have fought for you." Jessie said, every word coming with her warm breath on your collarbone, neck and jawline. "It’s okay," you said. "It’s not. I want to make it okay though," Jessie said, subtly sliding her hand beneath the waistband of your jeans and tracing patterns over the band of your underwear. "Then make it okay. Kiss me, Jess. For two years i’ve missed you and it’s all I’ve wanted since-"

She cut you off, placing her lips on yours and pushing your body into the back of the closet. A thump echoed and there was a moment of silence as you kissed that was broken by cheering from outside the closet. You both smiled into the kiss, the reminder of how well your lips fit together, sweet.

#woso fic #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #chelsea fcw #jessie fleming #leah williamson #magda eriksson #sam kerr #guro reiten #niahm charles #woso community

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ckret2 · 7 months

Text

Chapter 20 of Human Bill is the Mystery Shack's (secret) prisoner (title tbd), featuring: at last, Wendy discovering the "house guest." And Stan discovering Wendy discovered the house guest. And Bill and Stan having the funniest argument imaginable.

Also featuring: Ford letting Fiddleford in on the secret and asking for his help getting rid of Bill for good.

####

"Hey dudes," Soos said, leaning into the living room. Bill and Mabel looked up from Mabel's phone. "Me and Melody and Ford are heading out for anime night. If you've got an emergency, call me; and if you don't have an emergency, uh... don't. Cuz we're gonna be anime-ing hard."

"Anime night?" Bill repeated. "Why's Stanford going to anime night?"

Soos blinked. "Is... that a trick question?" he asked. "Hey—aren't you not allowed to use phones?"

"He's not using it," Mabel said. "I'm using it. He's just watching a video over my shoulder. I've got him secured for our safety!" Bill demonstratively held up his bloody sock-wrapped hands.

"Oh. Smart thinking," Soos said. He nodded and left.

Bill looked back at the phone, left eye shut and right eye squinted, then pointed at the screen and murmured, "Oh, there—037, 037 is a big winner." Mabel nodded and wrote down "Beach 037" on a piece of paper where she'd been listing scratch card serial numbers.

Soos came back. "Hey," he said, "Bill. Why are your hands bloody."

"Because my eye's bleeding." As he said so, a bright red drop of blood rolled out of his right eye like a tear. He wiped it off his cheek with one hand, adding another stain to the sock.

"Oh. Okay," Soos said. "Why's your eye bleeding."

Mabel helpfully answered, "Because it's hard for him to see into a higher dimension from here."

"Hey." Bill nudged her with an elbow. "That was for your ears. But yes, if you have to know. Human eyeballs are—limited. It causes some some light cranial hemorrhaging." He squinted at the video again. Another bloody tear rolled down his cheek.

Soos stood uncomfortably in the doorway. "Looks... kinda painful."

"Excruciatingly," Bill said casually. Mabel mouthed he's fine at Soos.

Soos said, "Do you... want a headache pill? Or an eyepatch or something?"

"Oh." Bill looked up at Soos in surprise. "Is that an option?"

Soos shrugged. "Yeah?"

"Huh." Bill was momentarily silent, processing this revelation about the medical care options he was permitted. Finally, he said, "No to the pill—I think I'm getting a migraine aura, and I don't want to stop the little white spots before they develop into full hallucinations! I'd hate to miss that light show, you know?"

Soos nodded, as though he did know. He did not, in fact, know.

"But I could use an eyepatch," Bill said.

"You got it. Be right back."

Soos retrieved an unopened costume eyepatch from the spares for his Mr. Mystery outfit, brought it downstairs, and handed it over to Bill's socked hand. "Do you uh—need help getting that on?"

"I'll do it when we're done with the phone," Bill said, and returned to watching the video.

Mabel poked his side. "What do we say?"

"Thanks," Bill said without looking up, followed by, "062." Mabel dutifully copied the number down.

Soos headed out to his pickup, where Melody and Ford were waiting. "Sorry for the delay, guys," he said, sliding into the driver's seat. "Bill's eyeball is bleeding from trying to look at a higher dimension, so I had to get him an eyepatch."

In the back seat, Ford frowned and pulled his journal from inside his coat and flipped open to the most recent page. "Which eye?"

"Uh..." Soos held up a hand and turned it as he mentally rotated Bill to figure out which side his bloody eye would be on if it were on Soos's body. "Right. His right."

"Did he happen to mention which dimension he was trying to see?"

"Nuh-uh. He probably won't say either, he was kinda annoyed Mabel told me that much."

Mabel might know, then. Ford could ask her. Probably tomorrow—late tomorrow, after the party.

Melody asked, "He's not gonna need a doctor, is he?"

Soos started the truck. "He seemed really casual about the whole thing, so, I don't think so?"

"That's a relief," Ford muttered.

They started the drive to the former Northwest Manor.

####

When Fiddleford answered the front door and saw Ford, he smiled so wide it made Ford smile too. "Stanford! It's been a month of Sundays since I saw you last!"

"Fiddleford." Ford reached out to take Fiddleford's hand—and got tugged into a one-armed hug. He recovered from his surprise enough to return it. "It's good to see you. You're looking well." Which was to say: still looking aged before his time and running around barefoot and shirtless in his overalls; but a little less sunburned, a little more bathed, and merely "scrawny" rather than "emaciated." Ford figured if the man wanted to run around shirtless in his own lavish 150-year-old mansion, that was his own business.

"Just like we promised," Melody said, "one Ford dragged to your doorstep."

"Yes!" Soos pumped a fist in the air. "Operation Ford-Ford Reunion: completed! We uh—we didn't actually drag him, though. He was excited to come."

"He oughta be," Fiddleford said. "This'll be just like old times! Back in college, this man showed me all sortsa Japanese movies about big monsters and robots clobberin' each other. It was my first taste of international cinema!" He scratched his beard. "I wonder if that had any kinda impact on me?"

Melody and Soos looked at Ford with new respect. Soos said, "I didn't realize you were such a man of culture."

"All right, enough jibber-jabberin' on my porch!" Fiddleford waved Soos and Melody in. "You youngins go on ahead. Us old timers have to catch up. Tate's in the kitchen rustlin' up some vittles."

"Sweet, movie snacks," Soos said. He turned to Melody. "Wanna take the hidden service tunnel the Northwests used to hide the less pretty servants?"

"Pffft! Is that even a question?"

Soos tapped a foot twice on a square of Venetian parquet flooring just left of the door. A section of floor beneath them dropped down to form a slide, and Soos and Melody plummeted into the dark, squealing and laughing. The floor swung back up.

Fiddleford said, "I sure hope I fixed that tunnel to go to the pantry 'stead of the secret dungeon. Anywho!" He ambled his bow-legged way into the manor, gesturing for Ford to follow him. "We'll take the scenic route."

Ford looked around as he followed Fiddleford. He'd never been allowed in the front way before—the last time he'd visited the Northwest Manor back in the eighties, he'd been told to come in through a side door. It had been a very long walk. The front door opened directly into a great hall large enough to serve as a ballroom, with a staircase at the far end that led up to a fireplace and then forked left and right. A whale statue hung from the ceiling and still seemed dwarfed by the vast room. Ford had taken classes in lecture halls smaller than this. "I'm surprised you're still answering your own door. With all you made selling your inventions, I'd have expected you to hire a butler by now."

"I built me one a few months back," Fiddleford said, "but it kept trying to murder the feller what brings my mail. So I locked it in the coat room until I can figure out what went wrong."

There was a violent thud and scraping against a door near the entrance.

"Don't worry about that. It's reinforced," Fiddleford said. "Now, how long have you been back in town—a couple weeks?"

"Nearly." Had it really been less than two weeks? Somehow that felt both too long and too short. He'd accomplished so little with two weeks at his disposal. "I'm sorry it's taken me so long to come by. I wanted to as soon as I was back in town. You must think me a terrible friend—"

"Nonsense," Fiddleford said firmly. "I knew you'd come when you could—and here you are, ain'tcha? I reckoned you must've been busy with something."

"Yes," Ford agreed, with a bitter laugh. "More busy than you can imagine."

"Well, there you go! Nothin' to beat yourself up over."

Ford slowed, dropping a few steps behind Fiddleford, feet heavy, feeling like a physical pressure was keeping him from walking forward; and then he stopped. "I'm sorry to say, but that's part of the reason I'm here." He stared at the gap between his boots and Fiddleford's feet, the beautiful hardwood floor and the thin layer of dirt that had settled on it. "Of course, I wanted to visit you too, but... I need your help, Fiddleford."

He'd meant to wait until after the show to bring this up, let Fiddleford enjoy his evening without anxiety—hadn't he learned with Mabel not to try to mix business and socialization?—but now that Ford was here, the bad news threatened to bubble out of him with every breath. He wouldn't be able to enjoy his evening with his dread of the coming conversation weighing down on him. (What right did he have to enjoy the evening, when he knew he was once again about to make his mistakes Fiddleford's problem?)

But, Ford hadn't had the self-control to keep it to himself for just another few hours—he must have been too tired—excuses, excuses—and now Fiddleford was giving him that look he got when he was fully focused on a conversation, eyes wide and surprised-looking, as if opening them further would let him absorb more of the information he was receiving. "Of course, Stanford. What sort of help?"

Of course, he said. Of course, like Ford didn't have a history of asking for help that ruined people's lives. Either Fiddleford was charitable enough to assume Ford wouldn't inflict the kind of monstrous horrors on him he had thirty years ago, or selfless enough to offer anyway.

Ford swallowed hard. "It's heavy," he warned. "I don't want to ruin the show. Would you rather wait until afterward to discuss it...?" Although Ford doubted Fiddleford would stand for that.

Sure enough, Fiddleford waved off the idea with his bandaged arm. "Don't be silly. Now that you've brought it up, it's gonna give me the heebity-jeebies until I know what's wrong! Anyway, how heavy could it be?" He laughed wryly. "Can't possibly be as bad as that triangle feller, can it?"

Ford didn't know what expression had appeared on his face, but the effect on Fiddleford was instantaneous. His smile vanished; his lined face went as white as his beard. "Is it as bad?"

Ford winced. "Let me explain—"

"It's him." Fiddleford didn't phrase it as a question. "No. It can't— You're lyin'! You're lyin'!" He backed away from Ford as if he was the threat, tripped and tumbled to the floor, and scampered backward on his hands and feet.

And here was the screaming. Age had not dulled Fiddleford's hair-trigger panic response. Ford had hoped to explain it to him gently, ease him into the bad news before revealing who it was, but if all he could do now was damage control... Ford knelt down like he was trying to coax over a frightened cat. "Fiddleford, please—"

One of Fiddleford's legs spasmed, bouncing like a rabbit thumping its foot in warning of predators. "Not him! The beast— The beast with just one—"

"Two eyes," Ford corrected.

And the unexpectedness of the correction momentarily cut straight through Fiddleford's panic. His wild eyes focused on Ford in bafflement. "Say wha?"

"He has two eyes now," Ford said. "And he's powerless and imprisoned. He survived—but he's not a threat." It was a slight exaggeration, but Ford's first priority was calming Fiddleford down. He could introduce nuance once Fiddleford wasn't panicking.

"He's—He's not a—He's—"

"Deep breath," Ford said.

Fiddleford sucked in a deep breath, held it just long enough that Ford was starting to worry, and let it out in a long, deep gush. "Whoo!" He smacked his head with his palm, and then another couple times for good measure. "Sorry 'bout that. Just—got a little excited. Let me catch my..." He took another couple of deep breaths.

Ford waited patiently. "You're better at dealing with alarming news than you used to be." Maybe that wasn't the best praise, considering that Ford had usually been the one delivering the alarming news.

"I'm not sure I am. I think I just get it all out of my system faster." Fiddleford took one last deep breath, and said, "All right. Explain this to me."

Ford gave Fiddleford the rundown on the last two weeks—Bill's arrival, his capture, the stalemate as they realized that neither side could risk Bill's death without knowing what would happen. He explained everything they knew or suspected about Bill's current powers or lack thereof, and how they were containing and neutralizing him further.

He even pulled out his current journal to show Fiddleford Bill's appearance: a few days ago, Ford had gotten a drawing of Bill in the living room watching TV, huddled up against the armrest of the sofa as if he wanted to stay as close to the doorway as possible, one eye squeezed shut, the other glazed with disinterest, the corners of his mouth curled down despondently. Ford had done the quick rough sketch while watching Bill from the kitchen, then retreated to his room to flesh out the details. There was no way Ford was neglecting to properly document the unwelcome phenomenon occurring in his house, but there was doubly no way Ford was giving Bill's ego the pleasure of knowing he was drawing him again.

Fiddleford cocked a brow. "Bill's a woman?"

"I'm not sure whatever force humanized him was too picky about the sex," Ford said. "For that matter, I'm not sure he's picky about his sex. It's never come up." What kind of genders did Bill's species have? Did they have genders? Ford should ask. (Ford should not ask. He took that idea, stuffed it in a bag, and threw it in a lake.)

"Huh." Fiddleford gave Ford a skeptical look. "Y'all're letting him watch TV?"

"He's threatened to kill himself if he gets too bored," Ford said tiredly. "He knows if we were to completely lock him up, he'd be as good as dead, since we could just keep him there until we find a guaranteed way to kill him. He says he'd sooner die by his own hand in that circumstance, and he's mad enough I think he'd make good on it. So, to maintain the current stalemate, we've agreed on some... limited privileges."

"Including television."

"Honestly? Moving the TV out of the living room just so he couldn't watch it didn't seem worth the trouble. We use that TV too."

Fiddleford grunted; but he offered the journal back to Ford. He offered it held open, and his gaze didn't break from Bill's face until Ford shut it and put it back into his jacket pocket. "So," Fiddleford said. "You said you need help?"

"Yes. At the moment, we're safe from Bill. All we have to do is find a way to destroy both his body and whatever's inside it, whether it's a human soul or an energy being—and use it before he learns we have it and does something drastic."

Fiddleford pressed his lips together, so thin they disappeared behind his whiskers. "Stanford, I want to help any way I can, but none of my killer robots or deadly lasermajigs are designed for incineratin' space demons. I don't rightly know if I can help."

"But you've already helped. You—" Ford hesitated. "You might want to brace yourself for another shock."

Fiddleford wrapped his arms around his chest and laced his hands together behind his back. "Ready!"

"While I was exploring other dimensions, I found a parallel Earth where you—where we..." Ford swallowed his guilt. "Where... things turned out better. Your parallel self helped me perfect my weapon to destroy Bill."

"A parallel..." Fiddleford's gaze briefly went wall-eyed as he processed the implications of the second life-altering revelation of the hour; but he quickly shook himself out of it. "Well, shucks, then this oughta be easy as pie! If I can do it, then so can I! So tell me about this weapon."

Soos appeared at the top of one of the stairs at the end of the great hall. "Hey, dudes! What's the hold up? We're ready to roll!"

"We'll be right there," Ford called, then turned back to Fiddleford. "Perhaps I should show you the blueprints after the show."

They headed for the stairs. Fiddleford gave Ford a cheeky grin. "Stanford Pines, shilly-shallying around watching cartoons when there's work to be done? Now, my memory ain't what it used to be, but that don't sound like the Stanford I recall."

"I've learned the hard way that a strict diet, exercise regimen, and regular meditation alone can't save a human from burning himself out." The image of Bill's eye and Cheshire Cat smile peering out from beneath a dark towel flashed through Ford's mind. He pushed the memory aside. "Now more than ever, I need to make time for a little play." Goodness knows he hadn't made any time in the last couple of weeks, unless that emotionally fraught trip to Portland counted. "Besides, I—don't want to ruin your evening with my problem."

Fiddleford reached up to put a hand on Ford's shoulder. "That sonova cosine ain't your problem; he's ours. All of ours."

"Thank you, Fiddleford." It was exactly what he needed to hear.

At the top of the stairs, Fiddleford hopped in the air, kicked his heels together, and shouted, "Now let's go watch some giant robots commit atrocities against God! YEEHAW!" He tore off down a corridor with Ford chasing close behind.

####

Stan had given Wendy a copy of the Mystery Shack's keys a year ago, back when the only secrets in the shack had been hidden beneath the vending machine. She still had them, and she could still let herself in at any time; she'd just needed an excuse to minimize how much trouble she'd get in if she was caught.

"Sorry, I forgot my ice cream was here and I just came to pick it up" was a much lower offense than "I was sneaking in specifically to find out the thing you were trying to keep me from finding out."

Staking out the shack from the woods was boring work—she would've liked to bring a friend along, but then she really couldn't use the "I was just swinging by to grab my food" excuse—but she could pass the time whittling until she lost light, and after that she had like a billion scary story podcasts to go through.

Friday night was anime night. Around seven, Soos's truck pulled out, with Melody and Ford on board. That was right—she'd seen Ford talking to Soos about joining in on anime night. One less person she had to look out for. Half past ten, the last light in the shack turned out.

Wendy went in.

She automatically avoided the creakiest floor boards as she let herself in the front door, and then crept into the kitchen. She closed her eyes as she groped around in the freezer for the sorbet she'd left behind so that the light couldn't disrupt her night vision. There. Excuse retrieved. If anyone caught her now, she could wave her dessert in their face and pull the dumb teen routine.

Now what?

All she knew about the shack's latest secret was that it had ripped up Soos's coat, it might be psychic, and it was possibly locked up and shouting mad about it. That didn't give her a lot to go on. The kitchen didn't look much different. Less clutter out on the counters and shelves than usual, but that wasn't evidence of paranormal activity. Maybe Abuelita had gone on a cleaning spree.

She'd start with safer locations and move out from there. If she was caught, where would she get in the least trouble for snooping?

Sorry guys, I just came by to get my sorbet; and then I really needed to use the bathroom, so I thought it wouldn't be a big deal if...

She crept out of the kitchen.

Wendy wasn't risking waking anyone by turning on lights; but by the glow of her phone's screen and the living room fish tank, she could see that Abuelita's sofa was missing its cushions. No signs of anything else weird though. She crept down the dark hall, phone pressed to her chest to hide the glow until she'd passed the guest room and Abuelita's room.

Her heart leaped into her throat when she tried to grasp the downstairs toilet's doorknob, but only brushed fabric instead. She held up her phone. They'd replaced the door with a curtain? That was weird, but...

She pulled the curtain aside.

Something sat cross-legged on the closed toilet. One blood-dripping yellow eye stared up at Wendy.

Wendy screamed.

"Hello to you too," the thing said. "Come in?"

Wendy punched it in the eye and bolted.

She heard it stumble-thud out of the bathroom, call, "Wait, wait—Wendy!" and then laugh, and then mutter, "ow, ow, ow."

Wendy slowed halfway to the exit as what she'd just seen fully registered. That was a human person. Whom she'd socked in the face.

Wendy about-faced. "Oh, man, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" She came back and flipped on the bathroom light to check for damage.

The stranger was a heavyset brown-skinned woman with a mass of loose golden curls hanging to her shoulder blades, wearing a baggy yellow hoodie and knee-length skirt—and something about her was familiar, but Wendy couldn't put her finger on what. The stranger shrugged, grinning, and said, "It's not the worst thing to happen to that eyeball today!" She moved an eyepatch over from her left eye to cover the bloody eye Wendy had socked—and that was why Wendy had only seen the one eye in the dark. The eyepatch.

Wow, smooth move, Wendy, punching somebody for having a painful-looking eye condition. She winced. "Sorry. Do you... wanna ice that?" She awkwardly held out her sorbet.

The stranger looked at the pint thoughtfully. "Can I eat it instead?"

"Um. No?" Wendy pulled it back. "Hey—did you call me Wendy? How'd you know my name?"

The stranger shrugged. "What, you work here, don't you? I see you all the time."

So they had met before? Wendy studied the stranger's face, trying to remember where—and then her eyes widened. "Wait—hold on, Toga Lady? No way!"

"Wh—yeah, that's me!" She laughed. "I can't get over how many people recognize me because of that."

"Yeah, everyone in town knows you." She flipped open her phone to show Toga Lady a meme Tambry sent a couple days ago: the picture Wendy had taken of her in the gift shop that spread all over town, currently captioned, "When you're meeting Plato but still wanna look kawaii."

Toga Lady cracked up. "Hey, I love that! Send that to Sh—Mabel, I wanna save that."

"Sure." Did Toga Lady not have a phone? Or maybe just didn't want to hand her number out to a stranger who punched her in the dark. "So... what are you doing here? Are you visiting the Pines?" Wendy vaguely remembered Toga Lady asking about the Pines a few months ago. "Who are you?"

"The name's Goldie," the stranger said. "And I'm... just staying here for a bit. As a house guest." (And, Bill realized, if Wendy asked him any more than that, he was in trouble. He and the Pines had very briefly arranged his cover story: if and when somebody noticed him, he was Goldie Locke and he was staying as a guest. But why was he staying as a guest, where had he come from, how long would he be here... they'd never gotten that far. He'd better think up some boring cover story the Pines wouldn't object to—maybe claim to be one of Abuelita's distant relatives, staying with family between jobs...)

Wendy said, "So, hold on. Are you the big mysterious supernatural phenomenon the Pines have been trying not to talk about?"

Goldie blinked. And then a brilliant, gleeful smile stretched across her face. "Wow, you're a smart one! How did you guess?"

####

To Fiddleford's evident despair, Soos had made good on his threat to put a moratorium on mecha anime. Instead, he played a few episodes of a period drama about a former samurai, desperate to retire from the sword, who kept running into civilians with inconvenient problems that could only be solved with a two-foot steel blade.

In the 1920s, the Northwests had added a private movie palace to their manor so they wouldn't have to watch picture shows with the common folks; and it hadn't take Soos much work to rig up a new projector to play from his laptop. The Northwests had outfitted the theater with armchairs, loveseats, and coffee tables, which had conveyed with the manor. Once the show was over and the snacks were cleared aside, one of the coffee tables made a perfect space for Ford to spread out his blueprints and research notes. While Soos, Melody, and Tate discussed the likelihood that unemployed samurai really used their swords to rescue stuck cats by chopping down tree branches, Ford explained the quantum destabilizer to Fiddleford.

It was a death ray designed to obliterate whatever it hit—whether matter, energy, both, neither, or other. If it hit a human, they'd be crushed into nothing. If it hit something as powerful as Bill, he'd be fatally collapsed into a miniature black hole, taking anything under his influence with him, and then he'd disappear. No matter what Bill was now, this could kill him.

The problem was the fuel, which Ford had obtained from another Fiddleford, who in turn had obtained it in a paradox dimension: an element that was inert when observed and highly radioactive when concealed. Parallel Fiddleford had named it NowUSeeitNowUDontium. But Ford had used up the last of his fuel on a wild shot during Weirdmageddon. And—short of rebuilding that accursed portal and venturing back out into the multiverse—Ford didn't know how to get more.

"Your parallel self helped me make all the modifications to my destabilizer to let it run on Dontium," Ford said. "You know your own mind better than anyone else. Perhaps if you see your parallel self's design modifications, you might be able to deduce the necessary properties of the substance used to fuel it, and we could... find a way to synthesize an artificial substitute, maybe?"

Fiddleford frowned worriedly at the blueprints. "Frankly, I don't know that I do know my own mind," he said. "But... I'll take a look-see at this, see what I can make of it."

"That's all I ask. Thank you, Fiddleford."

"What'll we do if I can't work it out, though?"

He'd already wondered that himself. Making an element was harder than finding one. There was a reason the gold miners outlasted the alchemists. "We'll find another way. Maybe adapt the destabilizer to another fuel source. I initially designed it for portability in anticipation of a fight with a highly mobile, flying opponent. Now that it'll be used for the execution of a captive, portability is less important. Perhaps it could be modified to plug into an external fuel source?"

"It'd have to be ginormous," Fiddleford said dubiously. "What about that infernal-lookin' summoning circle you had us try? Is that still an option?"

"I've considered it, but... there are four members of the zodiac who still don't know Bill's alive—and they're all children. I never learned exactly what the zodiac does, much less whether it would have any effect on Bill as a human, so I don't want to get them involved just to discover that solution doesn't work. The destabilizer will work."

"If'n we can fuel it."

Ford sighed. "We'll call the zodiac 'plan B.'"

####

On the way out, Ford stopped in the door and said, "Oh, Fiddleford—I nearly forgot." He took out a folded paper he'd stowed in his journal's cover and handed it to Fiddleford, grinning.

It was a hand-made card, with a cover that featured a cake and puffy stickers that read, "PARTY!" Inside was a crayon drawing of Stan and Ford holding hands and smiling next to the words, "Come to our 62nd birthday party!!! Saturday, June 15, 1:00 PM, at the Mystery Shack!!! DON'T BE LATE!!!!!"

Wryly, Fiddleford asked, "Did you make this yourself?"

"Mabel helped," Ford admitted. "I almost forgot our birthday entirely until she brought it up this morning."

"Did you? Now I don't feel so bad that I'd plumb forgot myself. Tomorrow—whoo-ee." A hint of anxiety entered his eyes. "Will the party attendees be including...?"

"We're having our party outside. Our 'houseguest' 'Goldie' is not allowed outside."

Fiddleford immediately relaxed. "Then I'll be there, don't you worry! With gifts, too!"

"Then we'll see you tomorrow." As Ford followed Soos down the long driveway toward his truck, he mused to himself that he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a birthday party. He didn't think he'd ever invited somebody outside his family to a birthday party and thought they would actually come. Felt good.

Ford was halfway to the truck when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Tate. Had they ever spoken one-on-one before? "Tate? What can I do—"

Tate took a step too close, and Ford's back immediately went stiff. "Don't think I didn't see those blueprints you were showing my Dad," Tate said. "Now, you listen here, Dr. Pines." He said "doctor" like it was an insult. "Thirty years ago I lost my father thanks to you and your stupid science project, and I just got him back. I ain't keen on losing him again. Is that clear?"

Oh. "I—yes. Perfectly clear. I don't want any trouble. I'm asking for his help to prevent trouble, actually."

Tate drawled, "Oh, yeah? That so? You usually need futuristic laser bazookas to prevent trouble?"

How good a look had Tate gotten at the blueprints? He'd been on the other side of the room. "Tate... listen." Ford took a deep breath. "You've got every reason to distrust me. Thirty years ago, I was so wrapped up in my own problems that I turned my back on your father when he needed help the most—and you, your mother, and he all suffered greatly for it. But whatever happens, I won't turn my back on him again. I promise."

Tate considered that in sullen silence. "Fine," he said. "See you don't. But I've got my eye on you."

He turned back toward the manor, paused, and faced Ford again. "When I came to Gravity Falls, the first place I went was the last address Dad wrote from. The man who answered the door said he never knew no McGucket and he'd never stayed there. I called him a dirty liar, and he chased me off his property with a hammer." He pointed at Ford. "You... You were gone by then, weren'tcha? That was your brother."

Ford's stomach dropped. "That's right. That... Stanley didn't know anything. We were estranged the whole time I knew your father. I didn't even call Fiddleford by name in my journals."

"All these years he told me he never knew my father, I thought he was just too big a coward to own up to what he'd done. When all along I was resentin' an innocent man, while you were..." He trailed off; then set his jaw firmly, squared his shoulders, and said, "Welp. You take responsibility like a man. I hope you act like one, too."

Ford shrugged helplessly. "I've been trying to."

Tate nodded once. "Good to finally meet the real you, Dr. Pines," he said coolly. Then he turned back toward the manor and walked away.

####

Stan was sure he'd heard a scream.

He stared at the ceiling. It was too late for people to be screaming. He didn't wanna get up. He couldn't hear anything now; but then, his hearing aids were out. Which meant the scream must have been really loud.

Grumbling, he sat up, put in his hearing aids, put in his teeth, put on his glasses, put on his slippers, dragged himself upright, and shuffled to the door.

The moment he stepped out, he could hear Bill's voice, chattering from some dark corner of the shack: "I was actually one of Stanford's research assistants! Haha! Yeah, during the earliest portal tests, I got sucked into the psychic plane between reality and dreams—ever heard of the 'mindscape'?—and everyone assumed it killed me! I've actually been haunting the shack like a ghost for the last three decades! It sure is great to be alive again!"

Stan's first thought, still half asleep, was, I don't remember Ford telling me about that part. And his second thought was, Wait. Who's Bill talking to?

Then he heard Wendy's laugh and his blood ran cold. "Aw man, that's insane! What'd you eat? Is there food in the mindscape?"

"I didn't need to eat, sleep, or age! Convenient, huh? Now I look thirty years too young!"

"How'd you keep from getting crazy bored without anyone to talk to?"

"I watched TV over Stanley's shoulder and eavesdropped on tourists' marital problems! I saw you all summer—"

Stan followed their voices to the living room and fumbled on the light switch. Wendy started and cringed back into the armchair she'd claimed, squinting in the bright light. Bill, who'd been standing in the dark like a creep, didn't flinch—but he slowly stood a little straighter.

"What the heck's going on in here?" Stan snapped.

"Hey, Mr. Pines," Wendy said weakly. "Sorry—I forgot my ice cream when I left," she held up a pint, "so I came back for it and... um..."

"I spooked her in the dark and she socked me!" Bill laughed.

Stan moved between Wendy and Bill. "She's got the right idea." As Stan moved further into the room, Bill circled him to get closer to the doorway.

"But—I mean, is Goldie all you were keeping secret?" Wendy asked. "I worked here all last summer. I know what this place is like! You know I can handle learning that some woman's been stuck in a parallel plane—right?"

Before Stan had a chance to say anything, Bill piped up again: "They're all just worried about the thirty-year-old missing person case they could have helped solve! But hey, I don't mind. I'm sure the only reason they didn't try to find me was because Ford thought I was dead and Stan didn't know about me." Bill looked straight in Stan's eyes. "Isn't that right?"

Oh, Bill had them all over a barrel now.

A good two-man con was a lot like good improv theater, in that neither actor could contradict the other one's story; once one of them introduced a detail, the other one had to agree "yes, and—" and roll with it. No matter how stupid or insane your partner's contribution, if you start arguing about your story in front of your mark, they'll know you're lying—and there goes your mark.

Stan knew that. Bill knew Stan knew that.

And Bill had gotten to Wendy first. Now, unless Stan wanted to completely spill the triangular beans to Wendy, he had no choice but to play along and "yes, and" Bill's stupid story about being Ford's assistant.

Fine. But no way was Stan playing along on Bill's terms.

Stan scoffed loudly. "Or maybe the reason my brother didn't try to find you is because you're a no-good lying creep who"—(what do nerds hate each other for?)—"tried to steal his research!"

From the corner of his eye, Stan could see Wendy's eyebrows shoot up and her mouth open slightly. Yeah, good. Yes-and that, Cipher.

Stan expected anger. There wasn't anger. The ghost of a smile flickered across Bill's face before he got his expression under control. There was a spark of light in his eye, like something sleeping in him had activated.

In the split second between Bill's lips parting and the first syllable emerging, Stan realized—a moment too late—that he'd made a terrible mistake. Bill wasn't just a con artist. He was one of those guys. The guys who got into crime because they couldn't get into theater. The divas. The attention hogs. The guys who enjoyed lying for the thrill of it.

And Stan had just given him an opportunity for drama.

"Steal it?" Bill snapped. "Steal it?" He raised a hand and pointed a thumb at himself, elbow jutted out to the side, chest puffed up, making himself bigger. "I am his research! Over half the stuff he put in his journals comes from material I dug up for him! By his third journal, he was practically my ghostwriter! But do you think I was gonna get a co-author credit?"

"Oh, that's a load of bull—slander," Stan snapped. "I am not letting you talk about my brother like that! He did all the hard work while you, what—" what fit the story they were inventing, "—picked up books for him at the library like a good little undergrad—?"

"Hey!" Bill turned sideways to jab a finger at Stan, like a fencer making his profile narrower before driving his sabre home. "Post grad! I was working on my dissertation! And I didn't just 'pick them up'; I found the books he needed, usually because I'd already read them and he hadn't!"

"Oh, you read a few books! Oooh, I'm so impressed! But you're not the one who wrote about them, sister!"

"HA! The hundreds of pages of notes I gave him say otherwise! So what if I wanted to publish first while he was hoarding the fruits of my labor in his basement, it was my right—!"

Stan bellowed, "That kind of talk is why you got dismissed from your dissertation program for plagiarism!"

All righteous indignation, Bill raised his voice to match, "The plagiarism charges were unproven! I dropped out on my own terms!"

"Oh SUUURE, because you wanted to see the WOOORLD! And how much of the world did you see hiding in a podunk logging town doing my brother's primary research for him, huh?!"

"HA!" Voice nearly a shriek, finger raised to the heavens in triumph, Bill crowed, "SO YOU ADMIT I DID ALL THE PRIMARY RESEARCH—!"

Ford said, "What the devil is going on here?"

Stan and Bill fell silent. Ford stood in the entryway, looking one part irate and two parts bewildered. The front door was still open, Soos and Melody peering around Ford.

Ford could doom them. Stan knew how to improv like a con artist, Bill knew how to improv like a con artist, but did Ford? Ever since they'd been kids, he'd always been just a little slower with a lie. If Stan had a chance to ease him into the backstory they'd concocted without requiring him to improvise himself—hey, we were just explaining to Wendy how 'Goldie' used to be your research assistant until 'she' got eaten by a portal test—

"STANFORD," Bill snapped. Stan almost jumped out of his skin. Oh no. Bill glared at Ford, pointed at Stan, and said, "Tell Stanley the plagiarism charges were unfounded, I was unfairly accused!"

Stan held his breath.

Ford stared at Bill, and then stared at Stan—Stan could almost see the gears turning in his head—and then stared at Wendy, and then stared at Bill again. And then he snarled, "After you tried to beat me to publication, you two-faced liar?"

"HA!" Stan pointed at Bill's face, laughing too hard to speak. "HAAA!" He pounded on the TV, half hysterical with mirth, and had to lean on it as he wheezed for breath. Ford—what a dark horse, Stan could kiss his cheek—Ford was maintaining the most stoic poker face Stan had ever seen.

Bill was violently biting his lip, red in the face, brows drawn tight together, trembling all over. It took Stan a moment to realize Bill wasn't angry. He was battling hard to look furious—playing the part of the loser of the argument—when the creep was actually fighting not to laugh.

Bill made eye contact with Stan, very nearly lost it, and turned his back toward Wendy so she couldn't see his face. He gestured vaguely toward Stan and Ford and croaked, "You see what I have to put up with?"

"I dunno, man." Grinning, Wendy said, "Not to make light of the whole 'stuck haunting the shack for thirty years' thing, but it kiiinda sounds like you had it coming."

Mission accomplished. And let that teach Bill a lesson about trying to out-lie Stan Pines.

Soos waved a hand. "Hey, uh, what's going on—?"

Now that was a disaster waiting to happen. "I'll catch you up." Stan zoomed around Ford, scooped his arms around Soos's and Melody's shoulders, and hustled them out of the room.

####

"You're sure you want to bike home alone this late?" Ford was walking Wendy back to where she said she'd left her bike, just outside the clearing the Mystery Shack made in the forest. "I could give you a ride."

"Thanks, Mr. Pines, but I'm fine. This whole part of the forest is basically my backyard."

"If you insist." He supposed the Corduroy cabin wasn't that far off—the local kids probably ventured further on a regular basis. They just didn't usually drop by the Mystery Shack at this hour. "What were you doing visiting the shack, anyway?"

"I came back to get my ice cream," Wendy said, holding up her sorbet pint demonstratively. "Which... is probably completely melted by now." She shrugged, popped off the lid and drank it.

She came by this late for ice cream? Ford had his doubts. But then, if he'd been a sixteen-year-old with a summer job in a house keeping a supernatural secret, would he have done any differently? (He was just glad she hadn't worked out who their "guest" really was. He'd have to thank Stan later for his quick thinking with a cover story.)

Wendy picked up her bike and hit her helmet against a tree to dislodge any bugs that might have crawled in. "Hey, uh—please don't tell my dad I was over here, okay? I kinda didn't mention that I was going out."

Wendy was Boyish Dan's kid, wasn't she? How different they were. The Dan that Ford knew hadn't been much older than Wendy, but he'd regarded these woods with a respect that bordered on fear. He'd never be wandering around this late at night. "I can't imagine why I'd need to bring it up." Ford had snuck out for dumber reasons as a kid.

"Thanks, Mr. Pines." She put on her helmet and got on her bike. "I'll see you in the morning!"

"The morning? The party isn't until one, is it?"

"Yeah, but I'm running an errand with Mabel." Wendy waved as she left. In the dark, her arm blended in with the trees.

Ford hadn't heard Mabel mention any errands. What was she doing that she needed Wendy's help for?

Ford waited until he couldn't hear Wendy's bike anymore; and then headed back into the shack.

####

(Y'all have no idea how long I've been waiting to post that argument. If you enjoyed this chapter, please let me know what you thought! I need comments to survive. Like tinkerbell. Thanks!!)

#wendy corduroy #grunkle stan #(for the art)#bill cipher #human bill cipher #(for the overall fic)#gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher #(with thanks to astro-b-o-y-d for the headcanon that McGucket hosts anime nights)

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somekindofpoet · 1 year

Text

Terminal

Summary: Reader deals with her parent having a terminal illness, and Vada struggles to cope with the aftermath of the shooting

Word Count: 5.7K

Warnings: Drug use, mention of school shooting, minor character death, depression, all around misery and angst

A/N: This one was HARD to write. The angst and sadness, whew, almost took me right out. Thank you @mindingmybidness12 for this challenge!

“I’m afraid it’s terminal.”

The words sunk into your bones like lead. The doctor's face was stern, his tone practiced and sure. The smell of chemical cleaner burned your nose, mingling with the sharp snap of rubber gloves. Your father choked a cry back in his throat. You looked to your mother, seeking her support and wanting to give her yours. She was stoic, her face still and calm. It helped you stay grounded. Your father began to sob.

What were the two of you going to do without her? She was the lighthouse in your storm, the steady, reliable constant presence in your life. How could you survive without her? If her cancer was terminal, your devastation was too. You knew you’d never be the same again.

————

“You doin okay back there kiddo?”

You jerk your head away from the car window, focusing your eyes on the front seat. The memory felt like a lifetime ago, but in reality, it had only been a year. A year of driving hours to Stanford for your mother’s specialized treatments. A year of watching her transform into a shell of a human. A year of seeing your father wither into an anxious helicopter parent.

You sigh and turn back to the window, your breath fogging the glass. “I’m fine Pops, just tired.”

He nods his head and drums on the steering wheel nervously. The sun had begun to set, reflecting orange and blue on the dark glass windows of the hospital. You had grown to hate the smell of hospitals. You hated hospitals as a whole now, really. So you waited in the car while your mom received her treatment, and today your father joined you. You could tell he wanted to talk, but you didn’t open the invitation to him. You didn’t feel like talking. You didn’t feel like doing much these days.

“Oh here she is!” He throws the car door open and jogs to the nurse pushing your mother in a wheelchair.

He takes hold of the handles, waves the nurse goodbye, and wheels your mother over to the passenger side. After treatment, she used to try to pretend to be chipper for your benefit. You could tell it was exhausting for her, so you’d recently let her know you saw through it. You told her it was okay not to feel well and that you could handle it. You were regretting that decision today.

She looked terrible. Her eyes were sunken in, and her skin sallow. You could never get used to this new, dying version of the woman who’d always been your hero. You have her a small smile that didn’t meet your eyes and returned your gaze out the window. Your dad climbed back into the driver's seat and pulled away, chattering mindlessly as his two favorite women zoned him out.

A few hours into the drive, as the car was making its way down Interstate 5, your phone buzzed. You ignored it. You weren’t in the mood. The road was dark, and you were watching the stars. Your phone buzzed again. And again. And again.

“What the-“ the words were choked from your throat as you flipped the phone over and saw the notifications.

Hundreds of texts, calls, and news articles. You open the top article, the headline in bold letters read, “SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA SCHOOL SHOOTER-17 CONFIRMED DEAD, 32 INJURED”.

The breath was knocked from your lungs. You gasp, desperate to suck in air but it wasn’t enough and you began to feel light headed. You start heaving, leaning over to the empty seat next to you, desperately searching for relief but finding none. Your dad glances over his shoulder, frowning.

“Woah, hey, what’s going on back there, need me to pullover? Are you sick?”

You can’t speak, you can’t breathe. You nod, still gasping for air. The car rolls into the dirt shoulder of the road, and you unbuckle your seatbelt and fling open the door. You fall out of the car and land on your knees in the dirt, crawling away from the car. You don’t even know where you’re going, just away. The night air is crisp on your face and the vastness of the sky opens up above you. You flip over on your back and splay your arms out, panting.

You see your dad's shoes make their way around the front of the car and approach you. He squats down and rests his hand on your shoulder.

“What happened?” His voice is gentle but tinged with worry.

You shake your head, still unable to speak in your shock. You lift your phone to show him the article. He takes your phone and sucks in a quick breath, falling backward out of his squat.

“Oh honey,” he says, tearing up, “oh baby you’re okay. It’s going to be okay.”

He takes your shoulders and pulls you into his lap, stroking your back. You tuck your nose into his shoulder and let him soothe you. You glance up, and your mother is watching from the passenger window, her hand on the glass. She can’t know what’s happened, but she can see your panic and that’s all she needs to know she wants to comfort you.

It takes a few minutes before the shock mellows and you can think coherently. As soon as your mind settles, it lights up again, sending you into another panic attack. You snatch up your phone, scrolling through the texts. There are so many people you care about, but only one on your mind.

Vada. Vada. Vada.

You find your text thread, she’s texted you once.

Vada🖤

Mia is in the bathroom putting on makeup for picture day 🙄

There’s nothing else. You hyperventilate again, calling her phone. Your dad is eyeing you, making sure you’re going to be okay. The phone rings and rings and rings. You drop it and crawl over to the tumbleweed and wretch your guts out.

When you finally stop heaving, your dad picks you up and carries you back to the car. He lays you in the backseat, brushes your hair off your sweat damp forehead and closes the door. The car feels like a tomb. The darkness feels like it’s pressing in on you. It’s all you can do not to jump out the door and roll onto the asphalt. You feel sick again.

Your phone vibrates next to your head. You have half a mind to ignore it, but you peek at who the message is from. When you see the name, you lift the phone so fast you accidentally fumble it and drop it onto the floor. You roll on your side and sweep your hand around frantically until you find it again.

Vada’s name is on the screen.

Vada 🖤

Im ok

For the first time in over an hour, you can breathe. A sob leaves the back of your throat, making your parents glance back at you. Relief floods you and you feel like a weighted blanket has settled over your body. You text her back as fast as your thumbs will move.

Y/n

I just heard what happened can I come see you?

Vada doesn’t reply. The message was delivered, but the three dots never popped back up. You were sick with worry, but you were happy she was alive. The rest of the ride home felt like a funeral procession.

———

School is canceled for two weeks. The first day you reach out, trying to contact Vada. She doesn’t answer, never replies. Your dad tells you she’s probably processing a lot and to give her time. You feel terribly guilty. You know you should feel grateful, but you don’t.

You never told anyone about how bad your mom's illness was. You loved your mother, but the thought of explaining over and over that she was going to die and that there was nothing you could do to stop it, made you feel sick. Vada knew you went to treatments at Stanford with her, but she didn’t know how bad it was. You never had anyone over to your house, always making up an excuse to go somewhere else. You couldn’t stomach the thought of Vada’s wide eyes seeing the hospice bed in your living room and smelling the chemical drip that pervades every fabric in the house. She would feel sorry for you, and you couldn’t deal with that.

Vada was lighthearted and goofy and talked far too much for her own good. She would jump on your back for surprise piggybacks, buy you coffee and drink half of it, laugh at her own terrible jokes and dance around parking lots to music playing in her imagination. Her ease was so contagious you hardly went a day without her. But you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her about your mother. You didn’t want to see her eyes change when she realized how numb you were. You didn’t want her to feel sorry for you. You wanted her to remain the same and unknowingly continue to make your heavy heart feel light.

The shooting changed so much. And of course it had, how could it not? Everyone’s simple, easy teenage hood was turned on its head. Stress about finals warped into stress about living or dying. Teens aren’t supposed to be exposed to the dread that comes with realizing their own mortality. You could speak to that first hand. It was different, you knew, but in a way it wasn’t. You stared death in the face every day that you told your mother you loved her. It may not have been your own death, but it was death either way.

You met with Nick five days after the shooting and listened to him tell you about all the changes he was going to make in the world. His eyes were full of passion and righteous fury. He was going to do big things and that’s how he dealt with his experience. You admired him for it.

After six days of not hearing from Vada, you took matters into your own hands. You parked your car in her driveway behind her mom’s and rang her doorbell. It swung open and Amelia was there, grinning at you. She ran to you, squeezing you in a long hug, making you smile.

“Hey shrimp, how ya been?”

She pushes out of the hug, still smiling, undeterred by the nickname. “Soooo bored dude. Vada never leaves her room and it’s like totally tragic.”

She leads you inside the house, you close the door quietly behind you. Their mom is in the kitchen, and she gives you a tired but relieved smile.

“Y/n, honey it’s so good to see you.” She pulls you into a hug, squeezing your shoulders.

Vada’s family was like your second family. You found comfort in their normalcy, and they enjoyed your company. They always said you were the only thing grounding Vada. Like a wrist tied to a balloon string, her dad always said.

“It’s good to see you too, I’ve missed you guys.” You tell her as she releases you from her hug.

She gives you a half smile and eyes the hallway leading to Vada’s room. “Did she ask you to come over?” She asks you, hope sparking in her eyes.

You look down and scuff your shoe on the tile, “No. I haven’t heard from her. But I wanted to check in.”

She nods, the hope slowly washing out of her face. “She hasn’t seen much of anyone lately. Go ahead and go on in, I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.”

You nod and steel yourself. You’re not sure what you’re going to be met with, but it’s not going to be the Vada you know and love that’s for certain. That Vada couldn’t sit still for more than two minutes, much less lock herself up in her room for six days. You knock on her door and get no answer. When you crack the door open, the room is dim. Her curtains are drawn shut, a faint trickle of sunlight only reaches the floor below the window. The smell is thick and heavy, uncirculated from lack of movement. You were all too familiar with this scene.

When you found out your mom was sick, there was hope. But after a while, when she didn’t get better, that hope quickly slipped through your fingers. You slept for days, only leaving your room to go to the bathroom. The smell was identical to Vada’s room now. It broke your heart, knowing what she was going through.

As your eyes adjust, you can see the form of her body, small and curled in a ball under her comforter. Her dark hair spills out above the blanket, and the silver ring in the top of her ear catches the sliver of light from the door. You close it quietly and tiptoe over to the side of the bed. Her breathing is steady and slow, her eyes closed. She looks peaceful, lost in the bliss of unconsciousness. Her phone is under her nose, and that stings you a little. She’d seen your messages and chosen not to reply. You try not to take it personally, remembering how you shut everyone out too.

You sit on the edge of the bed and run your hand down her shoulder. You consider not waking her, letting her stay in the quiet cocoon of her dreams. But you want her to know you’re there, and that you miss her, and that you’re so grateful she’s alive. It’s probably selfish, but you can’t help yourself.

“Hey, Vada,” You whisper, leaning down over her.

She cracks open a sleep heavy eye, looking up at you. It takes her a moment to register, her hand coming out of the comforter and resting on your knee. She blinks a few times, looking around her room, trying to figure out what time it is. The darkness gives her no reference, so she returns to you.

“Sorry I didn’t text you.” She mumbles, hiding her face in the blanket.

You smile down at her, fighting the urge to brush her hair behind her ear. You’d had feelings for her since the moment you’d become friends, but you never acted on them. You thought she might feel the same but gave her the space to make the first move. The last thing you wanted was to scare her off because you confessed your love for her. Vada was carefree and fun, but she could also be flighty and anxious. You settle for pulling the blanket away from her face.

“It’s okay. I get it.”

She rolls on her back, her eyebrows raised in surprise, “You’re not mad at me?”

You snort through your nose, shaking your head, “No, you’re dealing with a lot. I just came over to tell you I miss you. And that I’m here for you, if you need anything.”

She pushes the blankets down to her lap and sits up, crossing her legs under her. You fight back a smile because you want her to know you’re serious, but it’s incredibly difficult when she looks as cute as she does. Her hair is staticky and ruffled, she has pillow lines etched into her cheek and a small spot of dried drool in the corner of her mouth. She wipes it with the back of her hand as if she could read your mind, and watches you curiously.

“You haven’t been to any of the funerals.” She states, asking you why without asking.

You look away from her, picking at the fabric pilling on her sheets. You’re ashamed of yourself for not going. You just couldn’t bring yourself to go, knowing the worst funeral you’d have to sit through was inevitably approaching.

“I can’t make myself go. I can’t stomach it.”

She scoots closer to you on the bed, her knees touching one of yours, her hand on your leg again. “Because of your mom?”

Damn her for being so insightful. You hadn’t told her how bad it was, but of course, she’d assume it must be. You just shrug, not willing to open that can of worms.

“So,” you hesitate, “how are you doing? You know, with everything?”

You feel more than see her recoil. She looks down at her hands, picking at her fingernails. “I don’t know. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Against your better judgment, you push her, “Are you sure? It might be good-“

“I said I don’t want to.” Her voice is stiff now, her face sliding into one of numb apathy.

You recognize that look, and it twists in your stomach. It’s one thing for you to be numb, but to see it on the beam of pure sunshine that is Vada feels like the world is tilted off its axis. You want to help her, want to reignite her spark. But she’s withdrawing again, laying back down and curling into a ball under her blankets.

“Vada,” you say softly, your hand hovering over her shoulder.

“Please just go.”

“Vada I understand how you feel. I-“

Vada shoots up, her lip curled in bitterness and her eyebrows furrowed, “You don’t understand anything! How could you? You weren’t there. You don’t understand, so stop saying you do.”

She drops back down, rolling away from you. You pull your hand back and stand, making your way to her door. With one hand on the doorknob, you look back and see that she’s shivering violently under the blankets. It takes everything in you to open the door.

You turn back before you close it behind you, “You know where to find me, if you need me.”

She doesn’t reply. You shut the door, sealing her in her tomb.

————

Days pass by and Vada never reaches out. You attend rallies with Nick and do your best to invest yourself in his cause. It’s a welcome distraction because not only has Vada shut you out, your mom is getting worse.

School starts back up, and your normal routine begins to pencil itself back in. Slowly but surely, kids start returning to their desks, some taking longer than others, but eventually, almost everyone is back. No one talks about the empty desks. Not Vada’s and Mia’s, but the ones that won’t ever be filled again. No one sits in them, an unspoken respect for the human who sat there just weeks ago, robbed of their future.

Those empty desks are like specters in the classrooms, quietly reminding everyone of the melancholy that had settled itself in your town.

After a month, Vada returns to school. She’s distant and checked out, but she talks to you sometimes. You do everything you can to support her because you are holding on to the hope that she will eventually return to her old self. She tells you she’s in therapy, but she doesn’t think it’s going to help. She’s absent even when she’s standing in front of you.

You can feel yourself checking out at the same rate Vada does. Every visit to Stanford is a tug of war of guilt for not being at school and terror at the day you won’t make these trips anymore. It’s enough to drive you to start swiping your mom's pills. Not many, but you’re up to two a week. The day Vada comes to class high, you recognize it immediately. You feel too hypocritical to say anything to her about it.

———

The day your mother dies is a sunny one. The sky is blue and wispy clouds float by, the sun beaming brightly in every window. You’d always imagined a lightning storm, rain pelting the windows, and wails of grief getting lost in crashes of thunder. But reality was so much harder to cope with.

She’d passed in her sleep, as peacefully as it could have been considering the circumstances. The sunshine and knowing she was at peace did nothing to soothe the raw agony inside of you. Your father did his best to hold it together, but after her body was taken, you could hear his sobs through his closed door. You waited for the tears to come, but they never did. There was a pit in your stomach and your heart felt like it was no longer beating. Your hands shook and you couldn’t eat. But you never cried. Not that day.

You sat on your bed, unmoving, until the sun sank below the horizon and the moon and stars shone through your window. The shadows of the day danced through your room until you were washed in darkness. You swallowed one of your mother's pills. Numbness was easier than sorrow. The drug dulled the most difficult feelings, but they weren’t gone completely.

The walls of your room began to close in on you, the ceiling dropping low and the air sucked out. You roll off your bed and crawl to the door, making a sluggish escape. You use the walls of the hallway to drag yourself to your feet and make your way out your front door. The warm night air wasn’t refreshing, it was thick and muggy. It felt like a blanket around your head.

You walk down your driveway and turn right, making your way down the street with no destination in mind. A light breeze picked up, licking at the sweat gathered on your t-shirt and feeling like a sigh of relief. You wander until you hear laughter cracking out in the distance. There’s a park up the road, you remember, and point yourself in its direction. You watch your feet move one in front of the other.

Another laugh rings out, closer now, and a scream followed by more laughter. You look up from your feet and see two girls on the basketball court. The streetlights faintly highlight their hair and the white styrofoam cups in their hands. One of them looks shockingly familiar, and as you tread closer, you realize why. It’s Vada and Mia.

She looks a little like her old self, maybe a bit more slinky and loose. You assume the contents of their cups are what’s making her more gangly than usual. You watch her take Mia’s cup and throw it, the red liquid spattering on the blacktop and Mia screeching. She sprints away from her and toward you, skidding to a halt when she finally sees you.

“Y/n?”

“Hey Vada.” Your voice is monotone, your face inexpressive.

Mia sidles up to Vada’s side, curious. She gives you a small wave and a bashful smile. Vada glances between the two of you and jerks her head back. You can smell the wine on them, but you’re too high to care. You eye Mia curiously, surprised she wasn’t as much of a good girl as she appeared. With your senses dulled and your mind fuzzy, you couldn’t see the sudden switch in Vada. She shifts defensively and frowns at you.

“What are you like, stalking me now or something?”

Her speech is slurred, but it’s laced with animosity. You hear it, but you don’t understand it. What could she possibly have to be mad at you about?

“Huh?”

“What are you doing here?” She stepped toward you and then stumbled to the side. Mia caught her by the elbow and shot you an apologetic look.

“I was just going for a walk. My mom-“ you cut yourself off as your throat tightens. You don’t want to tell her like this. You don’t want to tell her at all. Because then it’s real.

Vada tilts her head and giggles, “Oh my god are you having gay panic right now?”

You frown and cringe backward, “Gay panic? What-“

“You are! Look at you you’re blushing!”

Mia pulls at Vada’s arm, “Vada,” she says lowly, sensing your distress, “stop. Let’s go.”

You shake your head in disbelief and turn to walk away, “I don’t have time for this.”

Vada rips her arm from Mia’s grasp and stumbles toward you, speaking to your back, “You never have time! Just like you didn’t have time to be there the day we almost fucking died!”

You spin around, anger bubbling up in your gut, “Never have-are you kidding right now? You know where I was. My mom-“

“Fuck your mom dude!”

Your open hand cracks across her cheek before you even know what’s happening. You regret it immediately, watching her hand come up to her face and her jaw drop open. Mia grabs her arm again and pulls her backward as you turn and run. You run as long and as far as you can, your shoes slapping on the pavement. Streetlights blur past and when you stop, gasping for breath a block from your house, the tears finally come. You drop onto the curb and cradle your head in your hands, silent sobs wracking your body.

———

Seeing yourself in the mirror is a shock. You’re skinny, skinnier than you ever have been. The black suit your father bought you was a size too big now, and it looked like it was swallowing you whole. It felt apt. You did feel like you were drowning. Funny how often your lungs seemed to be desperate for air these days.

Your fallout with Vada made you feel even more isolated. You wanted to reach out to her, to tell her what had happened. To apologize for slapping her. To say you were sorry for not telling her how bad everything had become. But part of you hadn’t forgiven her. She didn’t know about your mother that night, but still, she shouldn’t have said what she said. And she hadn’t reached out to apologize either. Your friendship was lost in the ocean of grief that had flooded the space between the two of you.

The funeral was brief, and you hardly remember any of it. It passed you by in a haze of sepulchral floral arrangements, distant relatives and sniffles. The church was filled to the brim with people who wished to say their farewells. The speeches droned on, and you said your part, but you’re not sure what you actually said.

The sun was beating down again as the procession moved outside, the scent of freshly turned earth and grass seeping into your dark clothes. When everything was said and done and the people clearing out, you stand at the edge of the hole, watching as two men push the dirt over the ledge. Your father had gone to mingle in the crowd to give people his thanks and receive their apologies. It all felt so hollow to you. Everything seemed like the set on a movie, like you’d turn a corner and the production crew would be there scrambling to recreate the illusion.

A figure steps up to your side, staring down into the hole with you. You don’t need to turn your head to know it’s Vada. The emptiness in your chest is too vast to feel anything about her being there. You can see her look up at you, then back down to her feet, and back at you again. You weren’t in the mood to humor her.

“Can we talk?” She asks quietly.

You glance down at her and turn away shaking your head, “Not today, Vada.”

She shuffles her feet to keep up with you as you stride away from your mothers grave. Her brows are furrowed with worry, she’s chewing on her cheek and wringing her fingers. She hurries around in front of you, forcing you to stop. You sigh and look away from her, over her head toward your dad.

“Please, y/n. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

You finally look down at her, there are tears welling in her eyes. Instead of making you feel forgiving, you feel irritated. She’s crying at your mothers funeral. It feels selfish. You shake your head at her and make to move around her but she blocks you again.

“I fucked up,” she says her hands held out in front of you, palms facing forward to stop you. “I fucked up and I was mean and drunk and jealous and I’m sorry.”

Your expression is mixed between irritated and confused, “Jealous?”

“Yeah.”

“Of what?” You’re beginning to lose your patience.

Vada sighs and gestures idly, “I don’t know it’s stupid.”

You step around her again, your composure officially deserted. She grabs your elbow and scurries around in front of you again.

“Seriously Vada, my patience for this right now is nonexistent.” You pull your arm from her grip.

“I thought you liked Mia. I was jealous. You kept looking at her that night.”

You would be shell shocked if you could feel anything aside from the barren cavern in your chest. You sigh and step around her again, feeling like you were being forced to execute the worlds worst choreography.

“I slept with Mia.” Her voice is small behind you.

You freeze, ice exploding in your veins. You turn, your voice as cold as your blood, “Let me get this straight. You were jealous because you thought I liked Mia, you insult my mother, who I just fucking buried, and then you had sex with her?”

Vada cringes, wringing her hands again, “It sounds pretty bad when you put it that way.”

“When I…put it- you are something else Vada Cavell.” You throw your hands up and walk away from her, fuming.

She chases after you, one last time, rounding in front of you just before you reach your dad. “I love you y/n. I know I fucked up and I know I should have told you forever ago but I do.”

You blink down at her, “Right now, that’s not enough.”

She finally lets you leave.

———

You stay home from school for the next two weeks. Your dad had granted you as much time as you needed, and gave you as much space as you wanted. Extended family members passed through your living room and kitchen like blurs of heartache. The hospital equipment was cleared out of the house. The chemical smell faded faster than you thought it would.

You spent most of your time in your room, keeping it dark and cool. You couldn’t bear to see the sun shining and the kids playing in the street when everything seemed so bleak. You were anguishing over losing your mom, and you were heartbroken over losing Vada. But you couldn’t bring yourself to call her.

Three days after the funeral, Vada came to your house. You told your dad to send her home. She came back the next day and the next. After a week of showing up on your doorstep, your dad let her inside. He came to your room first, cracking the door open and leaning on the frame.

“You need to talk to her hon.”

You groan and roll over, your back facing the door. When you don’t speak, he opens the door wider, stepping into the room. He comes around the bed and sits on the side, resting his hand on your leg over the comforter.

“She’s been here every day this week. I can’t turn her away again. Just talk to her.”

You sigh and sit up, looking at him. His eyes are swollen and his face sags with age and sorrow. If seeing Vada will make him feel incrementally better, you decide you’re willing to do it. You nod once, and he pats your leg.

On his way out the door he turns and tells you, “Take it from me baby girl, you never know when you’ll run out of time.”

The sentiment slams into your chest like an eighteen wheeler. You had been selfish in your misery. He was struggling too, and here you were wasting away in the dark. You drag yourself out of bed and over to your window. You pull open the curtain, the sun is setting in brilliant orange and reds, turning the sky pink. A group of kids are playing roller hockey in the street, laughing.

“Hey.” Vada’s voice comes behind you.

You turn to look at her, and for an instant you feel lighter. You’d missed her more than you’d realized. You gesture to your bed and return to it, sitting cross legged leaning against the headboard. Vada climbs on at the foot, mirroring you. You’re both quiet for a while, searching for what to say to each other.

“Y/n, I just want to tell you that I’m sorry. Again. But for more than that night with Mia. I’m sorry I pushed you away. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you what was going on with me. I’m sorry-“

You reach out and take her hand in yours, “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner what was going on.”

She shakes her head, running her thumb across the back of your hand. “This is all so fucked up.” Her voice cracks, “I didn’t know how to handle it. I still don’t know how to handle it.”

Part of you wants to retreat. You’d been numb for so long, being vulnerable felt like it might kill you. But Vada’s eyes are wide and sad and hopeful, and you can’t pull away from her.

“What about Mia?” You ask her quietly, your voice hoarse from days of silence.

She laughs, the sound choked in her throat around tears. “We’re just friends. We did a stupid thing looking for relief.”

“And did you find it?”

“What? Relief? No.”

You nod, chewing on your cheek. “I don’t know where to go to find it.”

“I don’t know if we can.”

You look down at your joined hands and nod.

“But,” she says, “I feel a little bit of it right now. With you.”

You lift your eyes to meet hers, “Me too.”

She leans forward and presses the softest kiss to your lips, her fingers squeezing yours. You close your eyes and kiss her back, and you do feel some respite from the emptiness inside of you. The smallest spark of life.

You let out a watery laugh, “I guess our grief is terminal.”

She leans her forehead against yours, closing her eyes and smiling. “Maybe, but at least we’re not alone.”

#vada x reader #vada cavell #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x reader

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