#I’m speeding through these episodes

[awesomenikie]

This is making me laugh so hard. Buck really expected them to be devastated like him when they found out Eddie is moving but instead they are acting how someone would expect friends to react to it. Meanwhile He’s like so you guys whole world isn’t falling apart right now?

[stagefoureddiediaz]

When is an analogy about a falling tree actually about the complication of Eddie having moved his life to Texas only to realise he’s in love with his best friend?!!!

Because that’s what I’m getting from that Tim quote!! To talk about self flagelation, complications in reestablishing his relationship with Chris and then throw in a comment about never knowing what tree might fall on you to finish off the answer - was a choice!

And I can’t be the only one that is thinking back to 6x04 and the birdwatcher stuck under a tree (and the whole episode being about misunderstanding things and christopher lying and buck and Christopher’s relationship and things being complicated!) we’ve already had a callback to this episode as well this season with Buck riding white bikes and stopping traffic - we’ve graduated from a pushbike to a motorbike - things are speeding up!

[thestarlightforge]

New rule.

I’m not gonna base what Marvel stuff I get into on if Young Avengers characters are involved anymore. Not without reviews at least. That way lies disaster.

Instead— It’s based on if Jac Schaeffer or her team are involved, from now on. Because WandaVision is probs in my top 5 all-time favorites. Captain Marvel 2 was lovely, I thought. (My heart for Carol to get to kiss Maria on screen, but alas, censorship—and not the writers’ or director’s faults.)

And Agatha All Along… Oh my HEART. AGATHA ALL ALONG 😭 I’M GONNA BE SICK /POS

[exyyblue]

i can’t emphasise just how excited i am to watch naruto ok

[chilfucked]

if you count baby blushes he does it a lot more than i realized

[raddestrose]

kk yall, so I just did like a really really super rough guesstimate on how many episodes I have left until I’m fully caught up. I’m guessing I have around 35 to 36. I may be wrong but if so it would take me around 15 to 16 days to fully catch up.

But if I remember correctly, then the show starts back up around at 10 July, which means I would be behind at least one episode since it comes out weekly

Which means we’re all good in the hood

Cause like if I were to watch a two episode today that it would take me around 15 to 16 days but if there’s a day where I’m like super free and have nothing going on totally watch more and then that would get me there faster

[glamorizethechaos]

Bruises Pt 1 | Jack Abbot x Reader

Summary: When you find yourself in an abusive relationship, you never thought your attending Jack Abbot would become your protector and saving grace.

TW: domestic violence, addiction, alcohol, age gap relationship (reader is in late 20s & Jack is 49), blood, pining, angst, eventual smut. Not beta read.

If this flops I’m not writing part 2. Also if it flops I may cry so lie and tell me it’s good.

Word Count: 1.9k

Next

There was no point in trying to cover the massive bruise on your face, it would only make things more suspicious. You dont exactly remember what make your fiancé Charlie snap, but before you knew it, you were on the floor of the kitchen, his fist making contact with your face. The air escaped your lungs as you felt a blunt force against your abdomen, your fingers sprawled out on the floor, trying to hold onto anything you could as you gasped for breath. You didnt move from the cold tile for a while, it bringing comfort to your burning flesh.

As you strode into The Pitt the next evening, you did so hesitantly, keeping your head down. It was shift change, Dana was still at the nurses station, glasses perched on the tip of her nose, and Robby was stuck in a trauma. Jack was at the computer, reading over the shift change reports.

"Evening." you said casually, setting your water bottle down on the desk. Dana was the first to glance up.

"Eve- what the fuck?"

Jacks head shot up, and without hesitation he rounded the desk, taking your face into his hands, inspecting the damage.

"What the fuck happened?" you avoided his gaze as he gently cupped your cheeks, brushing his thumb across the black and blue skin.

"I'm fine. I was playing baseball with my nephew, and he has a really good swing." you tried to chuckle through your lie. He studied your face, his jaw clenched and brow serious.

"Did you get an X-ray?"

"I'm fine. Really." you shook your head, but when he delicately pressed his fingers on your nose you jerked your head backwards with a wince.

"Bullshit you're fine, you're next for X-ray." he grabbed your wrist and started leading you towards radiology as you protested.

"I know we have other patients, but you cant treat them with a broken face. If its broken, you're going home."

"No!" you called out too eagerly, almost in a panic. Jack stopped in his tracks with a screeching halt, twisting around to look at you. His demeanor instantly changed, his gaze burned into your flesh as he studied you: your eyes, your shallow breathing, and your posture that seemed to be recoiling with each passing second. His jaw was clenched, but the grip on your wrist began to loosen, and he slowly let go. You looked down as his fingerprints began to fade away.

"I'm ordering a CT" he deadpanned with a quick turn, continuing your walk to X-ray. His pace speeding up over so slightly and you struggled to keep up. The air was heavy; the silence hung high in the air- only the hum of the hospital’s harsh artificial lights filled the uncomfortable void.

"For a broken nose?" you called out, confused.

"Just a precaution."

"We don't order CTs for a broken nose, Jack. I dont ne-"

"Will you just fucking listen for once?" he hissed through clenched teeth as you jerked backwards. Jack was known for his tough exterior, but he wasn't short, not with his patients, and especially not with you. You knew there was a soft side to him, one he rarely showed. You’ve seen him sit bedside with a young girl explaining to process of a medical abortion, you’ve watched him show his prosthetic leg to a terrified little boy with a broken arm, and you’ve watched him talk a fellow vet through a PTSD episode.

He pulled a gown down from the shelf in the waiting room and pressed it firmly against your chest. "Get dressed, when you're all done I'll come get you." Before you could respond he walked away, his fists balled by his sides. You had never seen Jack like this, what happened? It's like a flip switched. His body was tense, his eyes full of anger.

You look at your bruised face in the changing room as you took off your engagement ring and other jewelry. You did your best to cover your bruised body despite the gown being open all the way down the back. The radiology tech was the seasoned Maxine, having worked at PTMC for almost 40 years, and having pet names for everyone at the hospital.

“I’m not sure why he’s making such a fuss over a broke nose. He’s not my dad.” You kept the conversation going as she positioned you on the bed.

“What about your daddy?.” Maxine winked.

“Jesus Christ Maxine!” You blushed.

“I’m just teasing honey, he just cares about you that’s all. Some may say smitten.” the smell of cigarettes emanating from her Snoopy scrubs.

“You said you were gonna quit.” You tried to change the subject as you began to blush even harder.

“They haven’t killed me yet. Besides, talk to me when you’ve been working here as long as I have. How long have you been working here?”

“5 years.”

“See, you’re just a baby, baby.” She patted you shoulder and left the room to start the scan. “Just stay still for me doll and it’ll be done soon.” After CT you hurried to change out of your gown and back into your black scrubs. You were seething with anger and shock by how Jack had spoken to you earlier. You waltzed back down to the ER despite his orders and looked up at the patient board. 10 more in the waiting room since you went down to radiology? What the fuck?

“When you’re all done I’ll come and get you…” you began speaking to yourself in a mocking tone as your scanned your badge to pick up a new case, “who the fuck does he think he’s talking to?”

“What are you doing?” You spun to find Jack barreling toward the nurses station from curtain 3. “I told you I’d come get you when the CT was over.”

“And I’m not a child Jack. I’m a big girl, I can walk myself back to work. I don’t need you to hold my hand the whole way in case I get lost. Now if you’ll excusing me, I have a vomiting toddler in 12.” You tried to push past but he stepped in front of you, blocking your direction.

“Not until I see your scan results.” You were livid at how infantilizing he was being at the moment. You always thought he viewed you at incredibly capable. You searched his eyes, looking for at least something that would explain this sudden strange behavior. What did he know? What did he suspect?

“Step aside Dr. Abbot.” You squared up to him. Arms resting on your hips. He took a step forward, his chest almost pressed up against yours. You could feel the heat emanating from his body and your breath hitched in your throat.

“Uh Abbot,” Nurse Lena uncomfortably walked into whatever the hell this was. “CT and X-ray results are back.”

Jack backed up slowly, not taking his eye off you as he opened the files on his computer. He began to read, his hands resting on the desk in front of him.

“Why don’t we go over these somewhere a little bit quieter.” He asked, faking a smile and trying to find a private room. You followed in suit.

“You don’t have to take me aside to tell me I have a broken nose, Dr. Abbot.” You were almost 2 hours into your shift and hadn’t touched a patient yet. This was ridiculous.

“You’re right,” he answered back, closing the curtain behind you as you both ducked into Room 7. “I’d like you to tell me where these rib fractures came from”. He didn’t looked at you, just typed away at the computer pulling up your CT results.

“What are you talking about, Jack?” Your mouth instantly began to water as you were hit a wave of nausea. He turned the computer to face you, pulling up your imaging.

“Non displaced rib fracture of the left T6 and hairline fracture of your T7.” He pointed to each rib on the screen, as if it weren’t clear as day to you as well. Your hands tangled in your lap as you tried to come up with some sort of explanation. “Or did your nephew do that too?” Your eyes shot up at his sarcastic remark. Jack regretted those words the second they left his lips. Looking down at his shoes, he inched his way towards the edge of the bed where you were sitting, hands in his scrub pockets.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, putting his hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. You winced slightly as he hit a particularly tender spot and his face fell. "Whats wrong with your shoulder?"

"I'm fine." you just shook your head, fiddling with your engagement ring like you were unintentionally trying to tell him something. He took a seat next to you, looking down at the floor.

"How long has he been hurting you." he finally asked, nervously rubbing the scruff on his face, trying to calm the pit in his stomach. You shook your head again and stood, turning towards the door. He grabbed your hand, stopping you from leaving, unknowingly tracing his thumb back and forth on the back of your hand. Avoiding his gaze, you struggled to hold back the tears that were burning your eyes. You felt a gentle tug on your arm, Jack pulling you closer to him, grabbing on to your other free hand.

There was so much you wanted to say, so much you wanted to tell him. About all the nights you spent locked in the bathroom, hiding from your fiancés hurling words and fists. About the bruises that covered your body. About the control. The isolation. The terror.

"I dont know." was all you could muster, however. You felt his body stiffen, his grip tighten on your wrists. A sob caught in your chest, the lump growing larger and larger in your throat. You couldn’t look up, you couldn’t face him, though you felt his hazel eyes burning into your flesh. Before you either of you could speak again, you were saved by a trauma.

It wasn’t until hours later, as the Pittsburgh sun because to poke out from under the horizon, did you hear the door creak and the sound of his uneven gate coming up behind you. Without a word, he handed you your usual, a cup of vanilla chai tea. The both of you would meet up here on occasion, after a particularly tough shift, just to talk. It was a chilly morning, the tip of your nose rosy as another cold Pittsburgh fall and winter began to creep in. You caught chill as the wind whipped through the buildings beside you. As you shivered, Jack instinctively stepped towards you, letting his radiating body heat warm yours.

“It wasn’t always this bad,” you finally admitted. “The first time he hit me… he said he’d never do it again. I was stupid enough to believe him. But then his drinking got worse and, you get the rest of the story.” You motion to your face, the cold air stinging your eyes. He stared at you without a word, you could tell he was thinking. You saw the gears moving in his head. Jack Abbot, thinking? That was never good sign.

“You drive or take The T?” He asked, pushing off the railing.

“The T…?” You were confused as he started walking toward the door, motioning you to follow suit. “Grab your stuff, I’ll take you home.” “Jack, that’s kind of you, but if Charlie saw some strange man dropping me o-“

“I know,” Jack cut you off, “I’m taking you to my place.”

[mishappeningss]

MORE THAN A DRIVER

CHAPTER FIVE

more about driver!yn

formula one + female!driver!reader smau + irl

Drive to Survive 🏎️ — Episode 3

YN heads to Jeddah, unsure of what to expect. With pressure building and nothing guaranteed, she puts everything on the line -- and surprises everyone.

The scene opens in calm — overhead drone shots of Jeddah’s waterfront shimmer under stadium lights. Inside the Mercedes garage, the camera slowly pans across rows of silent engineers.

They watch screen filled with data, engine readings, tire temperatures. In the center, sitting under the dim lights and her helmet resting on her knees, is YN LN.

Her thumb runs small circles over the edge of her helmet. Her eyes are steady — watching the screen, watching herself.

Friday: Free Practice.

FP1 and FP2 go by in a blur. The cars scream through the circuit’s blinding lights. Every mistake is close enough to kiss the wall.

In the garage, YN debriefs. She stands behind her car, visor up, eyes scanning the tablet. Her engineer points at Sector 3.

“You’re scrubbing too much speed through 22. The lift is costing us time.”

Low and focused, “I’m not lifting next run.”

A beat. “Okay… copy that.”

Meanwhile, cameras cut to the rival garages. Redbull. McLaren. Ferrari.

“She’s fast, but it’s green. A couple good laps doesn’t make her top tier.”

YN LN: DTS Interview

“I know what they’re saying. That I don’t belong here. That Australia was just luck. But they forget that I raced at 300kph with only two wheels under me. This is chess compared to that.”

Saturday: Qualifying.

Q1. Clean, P5.

Q2. Faster, P3.

Q3. Darkness, under the lights.

It’s the final run. The camera follows YN’s steering wheel like a heartbeat—twitching right, then sharper into a chicane at 250 kph. She’s inches from the barrier.

“Just listen to how close she gets to that wall. If she blinks, that’s her weekend over.”

She crosses the line. P2 flashes for a quick second — until Verstappen edges it by .037 seconds.

Still, the crowd gasps. Mercedes mechanics erupts in low cheers. She sits in the cockpit, her breathing shallow and silent.

“That was phenomenal, YN. That’s front row potential in this field.”

Sunday: Race Day

YN walks down the pit lane toward her car. Helmet on. Visor down. Around her, teams shift and move in a blur. She’s calm in the chaos.

Lights out — The lights go red, then out.

YN launches clean, holding her place in P3. Max shoots forward. Norris edges up inside. Into Turn 1, she holds position by braking late. Her rear tires scrape the dust.

Lap after lap, she mirrors Lando in front, never more than half a second behind. Behind her, Russell is charging.

Lap 17. “YN, Norris’ tire wear increasing. You can take him next DRS.”

Calmly she replies, “I’ll pass him before he knows he’s under threat.”

Next lap, she dives into the next turn — high risk. The car twitches, but holds. Lando’s caught up and drops to P4.

Lap 28. Leclerc’s car comes out of the pits. Cold tires. YN arrives at a high speed. They almost touch. Her left front locks, smoke billows. The whole Mercedes wall rises to their feet.

“You okay?” — “I’m still here.”

Replay shows her controlling the lock-up with millimeter precision.

Lewis Hamilton: DTS Interview

“She doesn’t flinch. That’s when you know someone’s real.”

Lap 45. Verstappen leads. YN in second, with Lewis in third.

“Two races in and YN LN is giving the reigning world champion a run for his life.”

Lap 50 — Checkered flag.

P2. Second podium in two races. The silver trophy, but her impact? Gold.

Post race — she stands between Max and Lewis. There’s champagne all over her hair, but her eyes are locked forward. No tears. A light smile on her face, a quiet satisfaction.

Grinning, Lewis leans over to her, “You’re making it look easy.”

They bump fists.

Toto watches silently from below the podium stage. Her helmet, resting on a table. Visor fogged.

“Some drivers just debut. Others declare a battle. She came for both.”

YN LN — 2 podiums in 2 races.

Next stop: Monaco 🇲🇨 The tightest test of control, patience… and precision.

yourusername

liked by alex_albon, danielricciardo, and others

yourusername not bad for someone who was told they’d crash before lap 10

view all comments

lewishamilton Proud of you 🔥 Keep pushing.

username pls post a full race suit fit

username the calm in ur eyes mid overtake??? HOW DO U DO THAT

lando so you’re just gonna keep overtaking me like that huh

username if jeddah had a crown she just snatched it 😭😭

mercedesamgf1

liked by lewishamilton, yourusername, and others

mercedesamgf1 Back to back podiums for yourusername. From MotoGP to F1 podiums in 2 weeks — the grind never lies. 🔥

You’ve been electric!

view all comments

username Icon. That’s all.

username she drives like she has nothing to prove and everything to take

username mercedes has a monster in that second seat and i’m living for it

username toto looks so PROUD

username Okay but like, what is she made of???

next stop, monaco baby! thatsssss chapter 5 for u !!! i hope u guys enjoyed thissss. as promised, next chapters will be longer and more dts episodes are to come! if you guys want to know more about the driver!yn universe leave me a message on my inbox!

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, kindly leave a comment or dm me! likes and reblogs are appreciated, love lots! x

taglist: @omgsuperstarg @hymntostars @dollyvuu @halleest @smh-anon @scentedrosa @ceekokocee15 @melancholicandmessy @heavenbabyg @milkiane @jajouska @stqrgirlies-blog @imdyinghelpplease @iikissagirl @moonlight52moonlight @hollandxstanley @sleutherclaw @deaddumblbumble @iamdedsthingz @scuderiapng @ninass-world @lagrandeourse @kodzuvk @reallifemermaidprincess @enfppuff @rosegoldorchid @cryinghotmess @hero-ically @anunstablefangirl @floraf1ln @beathreat @fromsaltandsea @i-need-to-be-put-down @usseraloo @starrgir1 @vinylphwoar @elliefind @wherethezoes-at @yarastilinski @liveoninmemory @lavaflow1012 @formulapierre @isagrace22

[itsnesss]

Hi lovely! I was wondering if you could do a lando norris x reader in the Miami gp 24' (based on the dts episode of him) where he is starting to have some self doubt because he is having a hard time beating max in the race so the McLaran team brings reader to talk to lando through the headsets/radio while he's racing and she encourages him to win but also says that other people's opinions about him shouldn't matter to him. And after all he ends up winning the race and reader is the first person lando finds after winning for the first time. Tyy

𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 | lando norris × fem!reader

summary | lando, full of self-doubt during the 2024 miami gp, hears your voice over the team radio. your words push him to fight harder, he overtakes max and wins his first race

warnings | emotional vulnerability / self-doubt, slight angst, fluff, comfort, intense racing tension

word count | 1.4 k

🖇 more ln4 🖇 f1 masterlist

The Miami sun bore down fiercely on the circuit, illuminating every curve and inch of asphalt. The 2024 Grand Prix had kicked off with full intensity, and you were stationed at McLaren’s control center, watching with your heart in your throat as Lando fought on the track.

From the moment the race began, the battle for victory seemed destined to be a constant duel between him and Max Verstappen, the relentless champion.

But something about Lando worried you. Through the radio communications, you could sense a subtle change in his voice, a small crack that hadn’t been there before. He sounded less sure of himself, as if that spark that had always made him shine on the track was starting to flicker.

"Everything okay out there?" you asked calmly, trying to project confidence.

"I’m... I don’t know, not sure I can do it this time," he replied, a hint of doubt in his voice. "Max is too strong. I don’t know how I’m going to get past him."

You knew Lando was an incredible driver, capable of pure moments of genius. But you also knew that the pressure of facing a rival like Max could make even the strongest start to waver.

"Listen to me, Lando," you said, trying to make your voice both firm and comforting. "You have something Max doesn’t. It’s not just speed or technique. It’s you. Your heart. Your courage. Don’t let anyone’s opinion make you doubt that. You’re not what others say, you’re what you know you’re worth."

There was a moment of silence, then you heard him take a deep breath. You knew your words were reaching him, that they were starting to sink in.

The race continued, and with each lap, the tension rose. Lando seemed to be fighting not only Max, but also that inner voice whispering that maybe he wasn’t enough.

But you were there, on that invisible radio channel, reminding him he wasn’t alone. That someone believed in him someone who knew he could do it.

"Lando, focus on Sector 3. You’ve got pace, you can catch him on the straight. You have DRS."

The engineer’s voice was clear, but deep down, all he wanted was to hear yours again. Amid the heat, the speed, and the pressure, your voice had become his only anchor.

You came back on the comms, on direct order from the team principal. "Lando, listen to me. Breathe. You’ve done this before. You’re more than a stat or a podium. You brought yourself here. No one else."

From inside his cockpit, with his hands clenched on the wheel and his visor fogged from the heat, Lando closed his eyes for a second. Not enough to lose control but enough to let your words reach him.

"Don’t let Max live in your head," you continued, that mix of firmness and tenderness only you knew how to use. "He doesn’t live there. You do. Remember why you started. Remember who you are. Not to beat him... but because you never give up."

And then, something changed.

The next sector was clean, precise. Pure art on wheels. The gap shrank lap by lap. The pit wall erupted with data and strategies, but Lando wasn’t listening to the noise anymore. He was only listening to you.

On lap 54 of 57, he made his move. Aggressive, but smart. He tucked into the slipstream and, coming out of turn 11, he had him: DRS activated, he dove down the inside and

he passed him.

"Let’s go, Lando, you did it!" you shouted over the intercom, forgetting all protocol. You weren’t part of the technical crew, but in that moment, you were everything he needed.

"Thanks to you," he replied, voice breaking, barely audible beneath the helmet. "You have no idea how much I needed that..."

The final laps were the longest of his life. Not because of difficulty but because of restraint. He wanted to scream, cry, see you.

The team buzzed, fans went wild. Final corner. Final breath. Checkered flags.

"P1. Lando Norris. P1."

For the first time in his career, he crossed the line first, not by accident, not by luck. By merit. By fight.

And when the car stopped at the pit line, and he removed his helmet through tears and ragged breaths, he didn’t look for his engineer or his team boss.

He looked for you.

Mechanics surrounded him, applauding, lifting him onto shoulders while camera flashes exploded from all directions. But he barely registered their faces. It was all noise, confusion, and overwhelming celebration.

Until his eyes found you in the crowd.

You were there, headset hanging around your neck, walking quickly toward him, eyes shining with emotion and pride. You didn’t wear a race suit or technical gear, but you were more a part of the team than anyone.

Lando didn’t think. He broke free from the arms congratulating him, from the cameras trying to capture him. He ran to you as if the real finish line was exactly where you stood.

And you moved too because you knew what was coming.

You met halfway, right in front of the pit lane barrier. He wrapped you in an embrace so tight it nearly lifted you off the ground. His body trembled—not from physical effort, but from the emotional release he’d held in for 57 laps.

"You did it..." you whispered, burying your face in his neck, feeling the heat radiating from his race suit.

"No. We did," he replied, his voice cracking. "I couldn’t have without you. Really. Hearing you... saved me."

Slowly, you pulled back, just enough to look him in the eyes. His face was streaked with sweat and tears, still tense from the intensity but his gaze was clear. Free.

"Lando, win or lose, that doesn’t define who you are. People are always going to talk. But I see you. I always have."

He smiled. Not the usual media smile, or the cocky driver one. A real smile. Raw. Completely human.

"I promised myself that if I won… you’d be the first person I’d hug. And look at us. I didn’t let myself down."

He kissed your forehead, and for a second, the world disappeared. No roaring engines. No screaming fans. Just him, you, and the certainty that the day wasn’t about the trophy.

...

Drops of champagne still sparkled in his hair as Lando stepped down from the podium, the trophy in one hand, and that impossible smile still painted across his face. The British anthem still echoed through Miami’s loudspeakers, and you watched from the paddocksurrounded by media, crew, and curious onlookers. Everyone wanted a piece of that moment. His moment.

But not you. You just wanted to be with him. In silence. No cameras. No noise.

After the press conference, the photos with the team, and congratulations from drivers who finally saw him as more than just McLaren’s friendly kid, he slipped away.

He found you next to the hospitality unit, alone, a bottle of water in hand and your headset already packed away. Lando didn’t say a word. He just walked toward you slowly and, once close enough, set the trophy down and pulled you into his arms.

This time, the embrace wasn’t about euphoria. It was about relief. Intimacy. Belonging.

"Can we hide from the world for a while?" he whispered in your ear.

You nodded without a word, taking his hand.

You climbed into one of the team’s private rooms the one he used between sessions. No luxury. Just a couch, a ceiling fan, and soft sunset light filtering through the blinds. He stripped off his race suit down to his waist, leaving only his sweat-soaked black shirt, his neck still red from the heat.

You sat on the couch, and he dropped beside you, resting his head on your lap.

"You know something?" he murmured, eyes tired but joyful. "During that final lap, I wasn’t thinking about Verstappen. Or the trophy. I was thinking about how you’d look at me if I won."

Your fingers began gently combing through his damp hair, lowering his heart rate more than any cooling system ever could. "And how am I looking at you now?"

"Like I’m worth it. Not for winning. Just… for being me."

You smiled, lowering your gaze to meet his. "You’ve always been worth it. The rest is just... the consequence."

He slowly sat up, leaning in. His hands took yours, warm and soft. "Today, I felt like a champion. But with you… I always feel invincible."

And then he kissed you. Not a quick one. Not one stolen between pit stops. A deep kiss, honest, tasting of victory and salt. Of unspoken promises, clearly understood. Of staying together, through every race, every doubt, every lap.

Because the real finish line was never the checkered flag.

It was finding each other at the end.

[sheabuttahwrites]

Tag Me In ( part one )

Modern!AU Smoke x Annie

- Shea Buttah Bakery Masterlist - sounds // When You Touch Me - Brandy - warnings - smut, explicit language, there's filth in here - -

Annie was in a bad way today.

Her poor vibrator sat atop her blanket worn out, on its final bit of glint from the last try. She had turned to her side and moved on to watching one of her favorite youtube shows. In this episode, the group was discussing which appetizer was the worst, yet her pussy was leaking between her cheeks as if it were something much more salacious. Her legs squirmed beneath the covers, unable to keep still as she laughed at them joke on each other more than they discussed the actual topic. 

She fell back with a heavy, frustrated sigh, wondering why her hormones had to kick in while she was home alone. And, even more, what she was gonna do about it. Especially since she had already made herself cum three whole times with not an ounce of relief in sight. In the midst of near hysteria, she was notified that someone was coming into the garage. She squealed after looking at her phone. A few short seconds later, the remedy walked through their bedroom door. 

“What happened?”

“Stack canceled. His lazy ass wanna do it next week now.” 

“Oh, wow. Your brother’s a trip.”

“Yeah. I heard Sammie in the background, too, so I’m sure that’s what really changed his plans. They’ll be up to no good pretty soon.”

“You know, I always did like Sammie.”

He chuckled, disappearing into the bathroom. A few moments later, he came out in his undershirt and boxer briefs. “You wanted me home, huh?”

“Hell yeah. Come here.” 

The way her tongue ran softly over her lips while her eyes took in every bit of him, he already knew what type of time she was on. It was confirmed when he saw the toy lying behind her. 

“What you been in here doing?” He grinned slyly.

“Nothing.” She was grinning herself as she lied. 

“Don’t look like nothing.”

“Whatever I did, I still need you.”

He was immediately taken by the pretend innocence in those big, brown eyes. “Yeah?” 

She nodded. “Mhm.”

He came closer and picked the vibrator up, turning it on. He switched through every speed before stopping on the highest one. Internally, she was celebrating, as guaranteed satisfaction wasn't too far away. But then he switched it off, put it down in front of her, and, most concerning, backed away. “First, show me what you be doing when I’m not here.” 

Annie’s stomach dropped, taking her smile with it. Though he’d seen, touched, and tasted just about every part of her, this made her nervous for some reason. Maybe because she’d only ever done it by herself? She was on the way into her head when he grabbed her chin and made her look at him, lovingly brushing his fingers down her cheek. 

“Go ‘head, baby, don't be shy. I got you.”

Feeling just slightly reassured, she went over onto her elbow. The lump in her throat went down a lot easier than her hand did under the blanket. Then he pulled it back and took away her last bit of comfort, revealing her panties down beside her. But, before she could react, they were against his face getting a long, deep sniff. 

“Smoke! Oh my god.” She couldn't help but laugh at him groaning with closed eyes. Like her drawers were the most delicious scent he'd ever had the privilege of smelling. “You are so nasty.”

He winked at her and grinned, throwing them back onto the bed. 

Reminded that there was nothing for her to feel unsure about, that this was her man and it wasn’t possible for her to be any safer, she turned her body to face him head on and propped herself up on a pillow. If he wanted a show, she was gonna give him one. 

“Ok. That's what I’m talkin’ ‘bout,” he rejoiced, rubbing his hands together and making her giggle even more. 

She unabashedly slid her fingers between her lips and closed her eyes. That was just her way of doing things. But he had different plans.

“Nah, mama. Eyes on me.”

She took a deep breath and gladly bent to his will, spreading her legs while her hand slipped around in her wetness. She gazed through her thighs at him and bit her lip. His sexy ass smolder always sent her over the edge, but watching him watch her was turning her on in a way she hadn't expected. She’d never considered voyeurism to be her cup of tea, but now that she was in it, she only had one complaint. Her fingers weren't going to be enough. 

She picked up the vibrator and started it on the lowest speed. The corner of his lips went up into a satisfied grin. As anticipated, her helper added a thrill that her hand just couldn't match as she pushed it over her clit. She brought one of her knees up to her chest, her breathing starting to quicken. She was in a groove. A moan spilled from her throat like a sultry melody. His favorite song.

“There you go.”

Smoke came closer, hungrily licking his lips, dimples deep enough to drown in. She liked the hell out of this. Any doubts she might've had before had since turned to titillation. He wouldn't have to tell her again to look at him, because she was locked in. Her hips rolled as she surrendered to the sparks igniting the fire between her thighs, her moans pouring out. He had a fire of his own rising as he witnessed her lose control with her eyes set on him. Overcome, she grabbed her titty and sucked it into her mouth. It was so hard for him not to touch her, but he could do this all day. Taking in the fullness of her body, her deep brown skin thoroughly moisturized, big titties falling from the top of her shirt. Beauty paled in comparison to what she was. And all she wanted was him.

“Feel good?”

“Yeah,” she whispered, squeezing her soaked nipple between two fingers. “Mmmm.”

“Open up, fat cat. Let me see.”

She reached down and spread herself wide. He smiled and leaned in to get a better view, blowing delicately on her pussy before his ascent. She gasped. The breeze flowing against her slippery skin sent a chill through her entire body. She pushed the vibrator against her clit and held it there. She was done. His arms, his chest in that tank top, the thickness. The achingly sensual tone of his voice. The way his dick was running out of space in his underwear. All of it was driving her crazy. She needed to release. 

Her mouth fell open and, for the first time since they’d started, her eyes left him. As they rolled, her head followed, tipping back on the pillow she’d now sunken deeper into. Watching her fight—and fail—to keep enough composure to hold her head up, hearing her beg sweetly for him with almost every breath she took, was doing him in. Like her, he wasn't gonna last too much longer.

“Smoke,” she called, desperately.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Please touch me.”

He didn't need to hear her say it again. He started at her knee and gently led his hand down to her inner thigh. Eye to eye with her once more, he gave the softness a light squeeze, then her hips went completely still. 

He smiled. “Oooh. This my part right here.”

A heavy crease hit her brow and he saw her pussy start to ripple. He swore he could feel it pulsing against his dick. Mesmerized, he leaned in just as a thick bead of her nectar dripped out, hanging on to the edge. 

“Goddamn. Make a mess for me, mama.”

“Fuuuuuck.” Her head slumped back and he grabbed her other thigh, kneading his fingers into them both. 

“Mhm. I wanna see that pretty pussy all over these sheets.”

She shrieked and the waves began to ripple faster. The muscles in her thighs were flexing hard against his hands. He licked his lips, watching her leak onto their bed just as he’d asked. She looked up at him, chest heaving, her cries reaching an octave he didn’t have the strength to ignore. 

He let her go and started to jump up and down, stretching his neck from side to side like a fighter waiting for his chance in the ring. “Shit, that’s enough.” 

Annie drifted out of ecstacy and right into a laugh, where he had his palm out toward her, still jumping. “…You foolish.”

“Tag me in, girl. It's my turn.”

@blackerthings @judymfmoody @lyrarodriguez @fendionmyfeet @fadingbelieverexpert @chaneajoyyy @astoldbychae @hotgrlcece @daddiespamm @lovethecheri @xo-goldengirl @miyuhpapayuh @buttrflybby @jiminie-08 @queengodiva619 @soufcakmistress @shiania @motheroffae @savagemickey03 @infinity2 @uhhh-nunyabidniz-heaux @deepinmydaydream @queenofklonnie22 @irefusetobeacasualty @honestlyurslol @bigjh @katezy2x @brownskincheyenne @shamansha @championshipshade @summrsovrinterlude @freelandgoddess @margepimpson @orchidwonder @lizbehave @spicypiscesssss -taglist-

[twohearts-hs]

Dove & Captain: 7 - Dr. Jack Abbot x Reader Series

Words in Total: 11.9k

Pairings: Dr. Jack Abbot x fem!reader

Synopsis: She's his Dove. The ER nurse who is the definition of chaos, trauma and humour in scrubs. He's her Captain, gruff, emotionally guarded war veteran with a prosthetic leg and completely in love with her. Six years together, a mortgage, four dogs and the ability to conquer anything. This is a story of their life in one day. He is 49, she's 30. This is one day of their life based on the 15 episodes of 'The Pitt'. There will be little imagines of their relationship over the years.

Warnings: Swearing, Age Gap, Trauma, Medical Language/Procedure, Pregnancy, Miscarriage, etc.

A/N: This is a complete series of ~60k. I will post a few snapshots of their relationship over the six+ years they've been together.

Hope you enjoy :)

Series Masterlist

-

2000

It was now eight o’clock. An hour passed the time Y/N was supposed to be off. Another hour into this mass casualty.

            Y/N was on another patient. Jack was behind her with a different patient. Dr. Mohan was with her as they worked alongside one another.

            “This is weird,” Dr. Mohan called out.

            “What?” Jack asked, looking over.

            “Shot in the chest but nothing out of the thoracostomy tube,” Dr. Mohan said to Jack as he came over.

            Leaning over, Jack looked at the tube going into the patient. “You got through the pleura, ok?” he asked.

            “Yeah, I definitely felt the lung with my finger,” Dr. Mohan replied.

            Y/N was working around them, then glanced up. “Hey, I lost the radial pulse. I got a femoral though,” she stated, looking at the two doctors. “I think he’s bleeding out.”

            Jack nodded. “Indeed, he is. Probably tore through the spleen,” he said.

            “How?” Mohan asked.

            “Ok,” Jack hummed, “nipples to navel is no man’s land. If he got shot while exhaling, the bullet possibly passed below the diaphragm.” He glanced over to Mohan. “Start a second IO, transfuse two units O-positive. Where’s Robby? Let’s find him and call Walsh. This guy needs the next OR immediately.” Then Jack was gone, moving to the next patient.

            Y/N went straight back to her work.

-

Y/N continued to follow Mohan around. She was a great doctor, an excellent doctor and the more Y/N worked with her, the more impressed she was.

            They were in a trauma room stabilising a patient when Jack opened the door and came in, pulling his gloves on as he entered.

            “Tapping in,” he expressed.

            “Thanks, brother,” Shen responded, patting Jack on the shoulder.

            “Yeah,” Jack grunted, coming over to the side.

            “EFAST normal. No abdominal haemorrhage, no tamponade,” Mohan stated, trying to catch Jack up to speed. Jack glanced at the monitors.

            Jack looked at the wound before Y/N spoke up. “Pulse ox borderline, 89% on 15 litres,” she stated as they made eye contact. “BP’s only 95 over 58,” she finished, looking over at the monitor before going back to her work on the patient.

            “Vinny Rivera…is he here?” the patient asked, looking over to them.

            “I’m not sure, man,” Jack replied.

            “I’m so sleepy,” the patient muttered.

            “Were you tired right after you got shot?” Mohan asked. The monitors continued to repeatedly beep.

            “Uh, no,” he muttered back. “I helped move 20, 30 people.”

            Y/N continued to do her nursing duties as Jack analysed the monitor, brain trying to calculate.

            “What’s causing his oxygen levels to tank?” Mohan asked.

            “Up the oxygen!” Jack ordered, looking at Y/N.

            She went over to the machine, trying to adjust it. “Abbot, 15’s as high as it goes,” she replied.  

            Jack walked over to her. “Gauge only goes to 15. Keep cranking, Kid,” he fired back. “You can get to 50.” Y/N nodded, going back to the machine.

            Just then, the door opened and a woman appeared. “Brian?” she asked. Lupe was there too. Y/N and Jack both turned around. Jack stood there like he was in the military, hands behind his back as he stared at Y/N, then at the patient.

            “Vinny got shot. I sent him with the first car I saw,” the patient stated, voice breathy. “Is he ok?”

            The woman looked at Jack, then to Brian, leaning over. “You fight, Brian, ok? You fight like the stubborn bastard you are.”

            “I tried, Whit,” Brian replied. “I tried,” he cried.

            They continued to work with Brian, but the monitor continued to rapidly beep. No one had an idea of what was happening. Y/N glanced at the monitor and than to Jack and Mohan.

            “He’s on 100% oxygen,” she stated. “His pulse ox is still only 88.”

            Jack nodded, listening to the patient’s chest when Walsh came into the trauma room. “How’s it going upstairs?” Jack called over his shoulder.

            “Regular spa day at the OR,” Walsh replied. Y/N was grabbing IV bags, changing them. “42 ex-laps and thoracotomies.”

            “Impressive,” Mohan replied.

            “What do you got?” Walsh asked, grabbing gloves.

            “GSW through and through the thigh, not arterial, now hypotensive and hypoxic,” Jack replied, walking around the patient and trading spots with Mohan.

            “Sounds like blood loss,” Walsh replied.

            “No. Haemoglobin times 2 is stable,” Mohan stated, glancing over to Walsh. “Vena cava is plump. It would be flat with haemorrhage.”

            Jack stared at the screen where the ultrasound was presented. “It’s actually a little too plump. Let me see the phased array probe,” Jack stated, grabbing the probe.

            “Any history of heart disease?” Walsh called out.

            “Not sure, but he’s a strong guy,” Y/N replied. “Got shot, strapped a t-shirt and belt around his thigh and ran around helping people for a few hours.”

            Jack then gasped quietly. “Holy shit,” he exclaimed. “Check out the four chamber apical view.”

            Y/N turned her head to look at the monitors.

            “Dilated right atrium and right ventricle. Right-sided strain with vowing of the septum,” Mohan stated, reading the scan.

            “Sounds like a PE,” Walsh added. “He threw a clot from having the tourniquet on?”

            Jack shook his head. “Way too soon for a DVT. Ok, let’s get him in left lateral decubitus,” Jack stated, moving the probe before handing it back to Y/N. “One, two…” Y/N grasped the patient’s side and helped roll him over. “Trendelenburg ASAP.”

            “What for?” Mohan asked.

            “Intracardiac air embolism. All that running around introduced air into the femoral vein right up to the heart. Now it’s blocking blood flow to the lungs,” Jack told them.

            “You need a CT to confirm,” Walsh replied.

            “They’re still backed up with other patients,” Y/N said to Walsh.

            Walsh looked at her. “Well, then maybe the cath lab can take them. They have fluoro. I’ll go check!” she called out, walking away.

            “Yeah, good luck with that,” Jack retorted, then he met Y/N’s eyes. “Kid, get me a central line kit and a 5 French pigtail catheter, please.”

            “Yes, Captain,” she hummed, walking to grab supplies. Jack looked at her, sending her a hard glare. She was not allowed to use that nickname at work.

            “Y/N,” he warned, raising a brow. Voice was low and sharp.

            She smirked over her shoulder, already grabbing supplies. “You said please,” she replied sweetly. “I’m being polite.”

            Jack stared at her again. “Y/N. Don’t.”

            Mohan looked between them before looking at Jack. “He doesn’t have a collapsed lung,” she told him.

            Jack grunted. “Yeah?”

            “So, what are you going to do?” Mohan asked.

            Jack glanced over, standing up straight as he stared at her. “I’m not going to do anything. You are.”

            Y/N looked between the two of them, holding the supplies. She chuckled, shaking her head as she watched Mohan’s shock take over her face.

            Y/N was watching, doing her job as Jack and Mohn were performing whatever they were performing.

            “Got the IJ,” Mohan stated, placing a needle inside the patient while Jack held the probe.

            “Ok, back to business as usual, thank God,” he stated, looking at the ultrasound. “Guidewire and introducer,” he began, grabbing the supplies on the tray behind him.

            “What the hell are you doing?” Dr. Walsh spoke up as she entered the room.

            “Dr. Mohan is about to pull air from the right atrium and right ventricle,” Jack stated, annoyance in his tone but also his damn stubbornness.

            “With what?” Walsh barked.

            “Five French Pigtail catheter,” Mohan replied.

            “Inside the heart?” Walsh asked, voice sharp.

            “It’s so cool,” Y/N replied, looking over her shoulder. “I want to do this.”

            Jack glanced at Y/N. “You’re a nurse, Kid. Dummies is all you get,” he mumbled.

            Y/N frowned. “Way to kill a girl’s ambition.” Jack just let out a low chuckle.

            “Multiple side-holes gives you a better shot at suck out all the air,” Jack explained, watching the procedure be done.

            Mohan glanced up. “Dr. Abbot showed me a case report from South Korea–“ Mohan tried.

            “What the actual fuck?” Walsh barked, pushing Y/N out of the way.

            “Woah, girl,” she muttered.

            “Hey,” Jack stated. “Be gentle.”

            Walsh glared. “I just talked to cardiology. They want a CT scan. If it’s showing air, then you need to dive him in the hyperbaric chamber,” she said, looking at the procedure.

            “He’ll be dead by then,” Jack barked.

            “Not if you kill him first with this banana-pants procedure,” Walsh fired back.

            Jack was getting agitated. Y/N could tell. His brows were furrowed, his jaw was tight. “We don’t have time to wait for your fancy-pants machine,” he replied, tone sharp but low. “If we don’t get the air out of his heart, he’ll die.”

            “This is not the standard of care,” Walsh replied lowly.

            Jack shot up to look at Walsh, eyes glaring at her as if she had stolen the last cookie from the cookie jar. “Oh, fuck standard of care. If we want to save him, we go in now.” His eyes were glaring holes into Walsh.

            Mohan was uncomfortable. “Maybe I should–“

            Jack glanced at Mohan. “Thread in the pigtail?” he hummed, mocking Walsh. “Excellent idea, Dr. Mohan.” Jack grabbed the supplies before handing them to Mohan, sending her a reassuring nod.

            Gentle beeping was heard as Mohan took the pigtail and continued to work under Jack’s supervision and words.

            “Go down to 24 centimetres, and then we’ll confirm with X-ray,” he told her, watching as she did what he told her to do. “Good.”

            “Think I’ll stick around in case you need another set of hands to resuscitate your patient when he crashes,” she remarked, then looked at Y/N. “Nurse, gloves.”

            Y/N stayed there for a moment, raising a brow. “A please would be nice,” she muttered, walking away to grab gloves before handing it to her. She took them. “And a thank you would suffice. Mother never taught you manners, Walsh?” she hummed with a smirk.

            Jack glanced up, smiling lightly but the average folk wouldn’t know. But Y/N, she knew.

            Walsh looked over to her. Staring hard but didn’t respond as she snapped her gloves on.

            “Pigtail’s in the right atrium, good position,” Jack said after they took an X-ray. “Aspirate, see what you get.”

            Y/N was there, helping Mohan as she glanced up to see Jack staring at them. He was gowned up in blue, surgical gloves on and safety glasses. His hands were close to his chest, but far away to make sure its sterile.

            “Pulling back blood from the heart…” Mohan muttered holding the syringe and pulling its trigger. “Along with some air,” she said then looked back at Jack.

            Jack smirked, looked at Walsh. “How about that?” he snarked before walking back over.

            “BP’s still only 85 systolic,” Y/N called out.

            “No improvement,” Walsh stated the obvious.

            Y/N let out a sharp breath, trying to keep her cool. Jack ignored her comment.

            “Advance slowly into the right ventricle,” he told Mohan.

            “How do I know when I’m–“

            “PVCs–“ Y/N tried, looking at the monitor.

            “That’s how you know. Aspirate again,” Jack stated.

            “Run of three,” Y/N hummed as the alarm blared from the machine.

            “More blood and air coming out,” Mohan replied, pulling more on the syringe.

            “Run of five,” Y/N said.

            “Non-sustained V tach. Charge to 200 for when he deteriorates,” Walsh commanded.

            Y/N stared at her for a moment, and she raised a brow. Y/N then promptly nodded, moving away from the table and doing her orders and going to the crash cart.

            “Mainly blood now,” Mohan explained.

            Jack nodded. “Pull the pigtail back to the RA.”

            “Step aside,” Walsh barked.

            “Pull the pigtail, Dr. Mohan,” he commanded, looking at the monitor again.

            “Step aside!” Walsh yelled, holding panels, however Jack took a step to block her.

            “You got this,” he stated, looking at Mohan. Then Mohan pulled the pigtail.

            Y/N smiled where she was. “Normal sinus rhythm, 92,” she called out as the beeping stopped. “Pulse ox is improving. BP’s 112 over 84.” She stared at the monitor.

            Walsh stepped down. The patient stabilised and Jack was full-blown smirking. He turned his head slightly to look at Walsh. “Not too shabby, huh, Dr. Walsh?” he hummed. “I think we can admit him to General Surgery now.”

            “Hell no,” Walsh replied.

            Jack’s brows furrowed. “He’s a gunshot victim.”

            “Admit him to the cardiac ICU. We’ll consult from there,” she barked back.

            Jack hummed, shrugging. “Well, you can admit him yourself, with Cardiology consulting. I thought you liked flying the plane.”

            Walsh took a step up to him, lowering her voice. “Not when it’s gonna crash.” Then she glared at Mohan and Y/N before leaving.

            Jack turned back to Mohan. “Solid work.”

            “That was your save, not mine,” Mohan replied, shaking her head.

            Jack smirked. “Take the win, Dr. Mohan,” he hummed.

            “Thanks,” she said, voice light and happy.

            “Besides, it was a little too risky for me to do myself,” he hummed, looking down. Y/N watched them, working around them, shaking her. What an ass he was…a little shit.

            “What?” Mohan breathed.

            “Kid, suture?” he called over his shoulder.

            Y/N chuckled, grabbing the supplies before handing Jack them. “So, you’re allowed to make jokes mid-procedure now? Is that what we’re doing now, Abbot?” she asked, smirking.

            Jack didn’t look up as he took the suture kit. “When I’m saving lives? Yes, when you’re mouthing off at me? Never.”

            Y/N smirked. “So, I can’t make comedy in your trauma room?” she hummed.

            Jack looked at her. “Kid,” he warned, then shook his head. “Keep it to the stage but thank you for your application in entertaining me while I’m working. It’s in the trash.”

            Y/N chuckled, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. They were back to normal. Their banter was there, and Jack was actually letting loose at work. It was as if he wasn’t pissed off at her an hour ago, though she knows the lecture is coming.

            Mohan blinked at them, pausing her movements. “Um, I’m sorry, but like you two close?” she asked.

            “Y/N was part of the night shift for a long time,” Jack said, handing Mohan the suture kit. “Suture.”

            “You two used to work nights together?” she hummed, brows furrowing.

            Jack nodded. “Yeah, she was my charge nurse until she was moved back to days like two weeks ago,” he stated, watching Mohan.

            Mohan shook her head. “Ok,” she muttered, looking down then back up, “Kid and Captain?” she asked, raising a brow.

            “What do you mean?” Y/N asked, crossing her arms.

            “He calls you kid like he’s your dad–“

            “I am not her fucking dad,” Jack bit. “Not even fucking close.”

            Mohan slowly nodded.

            “Do not mix Abbot’s and I’s relationship with the word ‘dad’,” Y/N warned as she went to check his IV and change the bags.

            “Right, so Captain and Kid,” she muttered as she began to suture.

            “Ask the question, Mohan,” Jack stated, watching. “It’s burning.”

            “You two are close?” Mohan whispered. “Like close? Because you act like a divorce couple who have joint custody of a dog.”

            Jack chuckled lowly, shaking his head. “We have four dogs,” he whispered. “We share them. No joint custody where we trade off to different houses. We have one house.”

            Y/N bit back her grin and chimed in casually. “And a mortgage.”

            Mohan froze; mouth slightly open. “Wait…what?”

            Jack stood straight up, peeling his gloves and gown off as he through them in the trash as he looked over. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Four dogs, a mortgage,” he muttered.

            Y/N then smirked. “He may be the boss here, but I’m the boss in the bedroom,” she hummed, winking.

            “Y/N!” Jack bit, snapping his head and hissing. “Shut it.”

            Y/N just smiled like a kid with candy.

            Mohan looked between them. “Oh my God, you’re the partner! I thought you were some metaphor. You know, like the ‘mysterious old guy with a truck and a grumpy demeanour’ genre.”

            Jack snapped his head at Y/N. “One, talking about me when I’m not there?” he scolded, raising a brow. “Second,” he looked at Mohan, “I’m not a genre.”

            “He is a genre, fulfils all my smutty romance kindle book fantasy,” she hummed, winking.

            Jack shot his head back to her. “Y/N,” he warned. “We are at work. This is a resident at work. We are in a trauma room with a patient.”

            Y/N stared at him. “God, you’re boring.” Then she rolled her eyes.

            Mohan looked between them; brows furrowed. “You guys are so professional, it’s honestly disturbing.”

            Y/N chuckled. “That’s trauma bonding for you, doll,” she hummed, winking.

            Jack ignored Y/N’s comment and looked at Mohan. “No, seriously, good job. You killed it,” he stated with a smile before walking out of the room.

            Mohan, who was still suturing, looked at Y/N. “So, that’s him?”

            “Yeah, that’s my Old Man, McVeteran, McGrump. Who scolds me for reading kinky books, leaving messes, banned me from his fancy truck but loves me till the world ends,” she whispered, smirking. “I’m a lucky girl.”

            Mohan nodded. “You’re the definition of one.”

            “I think he’s lucky, cause who’d want to be with that?” she joked, pointing to the doors. “Kidding, he’s the love of my life.”

            Mohan nodded. “I thought you were secretly with Robby,” she stated.

            Y/N cackled, full blown cackled. “Don’t tell Jack that.”

-

Jack walked by the nurses’ station while Y/N was still with a patient in the trauma room. He brushed his arm against Dana. “Hey, you got a second?” he asked.

            Dana turned to him. “Yeah,” she hummed, glasses on her nose. She turned to face him, taking off the glasses as she stared at Jack.

            “What is up with Robby?” Jack whispered.

            Dana shrugged. “He’s been better. I’m really worried about him. Maybe Y/N can get it out of him?” she said. “Use her psych degree and mental health background. Manipulate him into expressing his feelings.”

            Jack snorted. “Yeah, she’s good at that,” he muttered.

            “I’ve never seen him like this,” Dana stated, looking Jack in the eye. “Have you?”

            “No,” he said simply. “How about you, slugger?” he hummed, smirking.

            Dana scoffed. “Been better.”

            Jack nodded. “Preach,” he hummed. Dana nodded, patting him on the arm. Then Jack got serious. “Y/N told me,” he whispered.

            Dana raised her brow. “About?”

            He tilted his head and raised a brow. “Pregnancy. Miscarriage,” he said. “She told me cause I kept budging. I asked her why she couldn’t give blood, and eventually she broke.”             Dana blinked. Slowly. Then she took a deep breath. She crossed her arms as her face went serious. “Yeah,” she said, her voice quieter than usual. “She said she’d tell you. Robby and I both–“

            “Robby knew?” he asked, brows furrowing.

            Dana sighed. “Robby figured it out. He was there to give her the ultrasound today to confirm it was a miscarriage,” she said, voice low. “Don’t blame her. Don’t. She’s a survivor. You know that. I don’t know her story as much as you, but she’s not good with relying on someone when she needs emotional support.”

            Jack nodded. He knew. He knew her well. “I know. I��ve been teaching her these years that I’m here and not going anywhere…”

            “Marry her then, you grump,” she stated, nudging her.

            Jack nodded. “I know. I will,” he said. “We aren’t focused on that right now. Fuck,” he muttered, “didn’t even had a single clue she could be pregnant. I track her cycle, and I know her body–“

            “She wasn’t far. She was seven weeks,” Dana responded. “She found out yesterday when she puked everything up.” Jack nodded. “She was going to tell you, ok? Don’t think she was hiding this from you. And don’t ask me why I didn’t tell you…Abbot, this is her story…even if you were the father, it’s her body, her story.”

            Jack nodded again before dragging a hand over his face. “Yeah, it is. She doesn’t deserve this. She’s had a rough go at her life–“

            “Yes, but life has been good for her since you met her. She was what, twenty-one when she did her practicum for like six weeks. Then you swept her off her feet few years later, and life has been great for her,” Dana hummed. “Maybe before that was hard, but now she’s good. She’s not the same girl compared to when I met her. Now, she’s a–“

            “Gremlin,” he stated with a chuckle. “She’s a gremlin and her brother is a goblin who crashes at our house, drinks my beer and eats my snacks while talking quantum physics to her and I have no idea what they are saying.”

            Dana chuckled. “Those two are a team. She raised him since she was fourteen.”

            Jack nodded. “I know.”

            “She’s a mom, Jack. To Beckett. But believe me,” she looked around, voice low, “she always wanted a baby of her own.”

            Jack nodded.

            “And she has tried,” she whispered.

            Jack’s brows furrowed. “What?”

            “It’s not her first miscarriage,” she whispered. “Talk to her.”

            Jack froze. He didn’t move, didn’t blink. His brows furrowed; jaw tightened. “Dana, are you saying she’d miscarried before?”

            Dana’s face softened. She reached out, touching his arm gently. “Twenty-two was the last time. Then nineteen.”

            His breath caught in his chest. “Two?” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Three,” he then said, before breaking eye contact. “She’s been pregnant three times,” he muttered.

            Dana nodded. “Talk to her. She loves you with everything in her, and she is not planning on ever leaving you. You’re the thing she needed in her fucked-up life. For her and for her brother.”

            Jack nodded.

            “She didn’t want you to go through another loss,” Dana added. “She didn’t want that on your conscious. Especially with losing your wife,” Dana muttered.

            “I lost Grace nine years ago,” Jack said. “I’ve been with Y/N for six. Known her for eight.”

            Dana nodded. She reached out, squeezing his arm. “Take her home. Make her a mean meal. Run her a bath. Buy her a fancy bottle of wine. Let all the dogs on the bed. Hold her. She’s going to need you. All of you. The quiet parts. The ones you keep locked away. It’s been a day. It’s been a lifetime for her,” she whispered. “And, don’t be mad at Robby for figuring it out and supporting her before you could. Don’t take it personally, ok?”

            Jack just nodded, sending her a smile. “I don’t like it when she hides things,” he muttered.

            “Jack…you and I come from different worlds. We had a childhood, a teenagerhood, a life. A mother, a father, siblings, a roof on our head and education. She was in survival. She worried how to raise a four-year-old at fourteen when druggy Mom ran away to New Mexico with a boyfriend who she met at casino. She learnt how to count cards so she could win in poker matches to put food on the table and pay rent. She dodged CPS and social workers until she got the law involved with becoming Beckett’s guardian which was finally granted when she was nineteen. She did shit to survive. She’s not your average folk. She’s a trooper. But no one knows the real story.”

            Jack just nodded. “I know. Not all of it. But enough,” he stated. “I just,” he sighed, “I worry about her all the damn time.”

            Dana shrugged. “She’s your girl. Your partner. Of course you do, but be patient. Talk to her. Let her tell you more when she’s ready, but don’t pressure her.”

            Jack nodded. “Thanks, Dana,” he stated. “Thank you, really.”

            “Be patient,” she said lowly. “But let’s see if Y/N could crack Robby.”

-

2100

Y/N came over after finishing with a patient to see McKay being arrested. Quick on her feet, she hurried to where Jack stood. Hands on his hips, a death glare given.

            “Woah, what’s happening?” she asked, halting.

            “I disabled my ankle monitor because it was going off,” McKay said then looking over to the officers, “and fucking with our ability to help patients during the mass casualty.”

            McKay was in cuffs. Y/N was behind Jack, brushing his arm as he glanced at her.             “Tell that to your judge,” the officer stated to McKay.

            Y/N watched, arms crossed now as she looked between Robby, McKay and the officers.

            “This is my resident. I need her,” Robby stated, voice serious and stern. Then he glanced over to Dana. “Call Gloria. You can at least wait a second to speak to our chief medical officer?”

            The officer shook his head. “No, but they can call the Department if they have any questions.”

            Robby’s jaw was shut tight, taking a deep breath, trying to contain himself. “We just came through the worst mass casualty incident in this city’s history, and you two are fucking around with this? Are you serious?” Robby stated, raising a brow. “You don’t have anything better to do?”

            Just then, a group of officers walked by. The one’s who partner was rushed to surgery and Jack preformed a crike on him. Robby grabbed their attention.

            “Officer Harrelson, can you please,” Robby grabbed his attention as the officer came over.

            “Is there a problem here?” Officer Harrelson asked, glancing around at the group of medical professionals and additional officers while McKay was handcuffed.

            “She disabled her ankle monitor,” the officer holding McKay in handcuffs responded.

            “It was malfunctioning,” McKay replied.

            “She’s in a custody battle with a restraining order and is considered a flight risk,” the other officer responded.

            “A flight risk?” Y/N gasped. “McKay? No,” she muttered, looking at Jack, who remained focused on the scene.

            “Bullshit,” McKay muttered. “That is bullshit.”

            Robby nodded, crossing his arms as he looked at Harrelson. “It was interfering with our ability to treat patients. I’m not sure we could have saved Officer Stefano if she hadn’t disabled the damn thing,” Robby replied, pointing to the monitor, voice low.

            “Is that true?” the officer asked.

            “They saved Stefano’s life,” the other officer replied. “They saved a lot of lives.”

            The older officer looked at McKay. “Take care of this first thing tomorrow morning?” he asked her.

            “I swear,” McKay replied, voice full of promises.

            “Take the cuffs off.”

            McKay turned while her handcuffs were removed, giving her gratitude to everyone.

            Robby shook the officer’s hand. “Thank you,” Robby replied.

            “Thank you, for everything you did here tonight,” he responded, patting Robby’s shoulder before all the officers walked away.

-

Y/N got called to the code tan – a case of someone getting hurt in the hospital. Usually, fainting or a fall. She was wheeling the gurney when she looked up to see Robby.

            “Robby! Pelvis crush injury,” she called out.

            Robby was talking to Langdon about what Y/N knew, but didn’t want to think about it. Instead, she continued to move the patient to a bay area.

            “Thought we were closed to trauma,” Robby replied, walking over.

            “Well, code tan,” Y/N muttered. “He got pinned behind a truck backing up with replacement supplies,” she explained. “Oops. But, pulse is weak and tready, tachy at…”

            They got into the trauma room, instantly gloves on and Y/N began to cut the clothes away from the patient.

            “Grab me some monitor leads, please,” someone called out.

            “100% non-rebreather,” Robby stated. “Let’s draw up 120 of ketamine, 100 of rock, and page trauma surgery, please.” He was pulling his gloves on.

            Jack was across from Y/N, helping with removing the clothes off the patient. “The hell did this guy come from?” he asked.

            “Our loading dock,” Y/N replied.

            “Oh my God,” Jack muttered as they continued to work.

            “Ok, I got the EFAST. Grab a binder. Obvious pelvic fracture,” Jack called out.

            “I’m in a lot of pain!” the patient called out.

            Y/N grabbed the supplies, handing them to Jack and Robby.

            “You taking any medications?” Robby asked.

            “Crestor,” the patient replied as they wrapped the binder around him.

            “Any drug allergies?” Robby asked.

            “No. Am I gonna be ok?” the patient asked.

            Robby was using the ultrasound on the pelvis, trying to figure out what was wrong and how to fix it.

            “Absolutely,” Robby replied, looking at the monitor.

“We got you, Hector,” Jack stated, looking at the screen too.

            “BP 68 over 42, pulse 130,” Y/N called out as she glanced at the monitors. “I got a 14 gauge in the left AC.” Y/N was placing the IV in.

            “Whole blood massive transfusion protocol,” Jack stated.

            “Jack, we’ve got whole blood coming in from Erie and Youngstown. However, I’m not sure if it’s here yet,” Y/N stated, glancing up to look at Jack and shaking her head.

            “Let’s go one-to-one-to-one, red cells, platelets and plasma. We’ve got that,” Robby called out. “Let’s place an IJ after the intubation, please.”

            “Affirmative, Cowboy,” Y/N stated, turning away and grabbing the supplies.

            Jack glanced up at Y/N as she went to get the supplies, shaking his head with light chuckle. “We are in a trauma, Y/N,” he muttered. “Not the time to be calling the chief nicknames.”

            Y/N chuckled. “Oh, shut it. He loves it,” she hummed.

            Robby glanced at her for a moment, shaking his head.

“Ok, EFAST negative,” Jack stated. “It’s all retroperitoneal. No blood at the meatus. Kid, Foley,” Jack called out.

Y/N was back, handing supplies. “Can’t call him cowboy but can call me kid?” she hummed.

“Not the time, Y/N,” Jack stated, voice low.

“Hector, you crushed all the bones in your pelvis, and you’ve got some internal bleeding. We need to sedate you to treat you,” Robby said as the machines beeped rapidly.

“Hurts a lot!” Hector replied.

“When you wake up, you’re not gonna be able to talk. You’re going to have a breathing tube in your throat,” Robby stated as Y/N continued to work alongside them.

“Can I speak to my wife first?” Hector asked.

“Afraid we have to move now, Hector,” Jack stated, looking at the patient.

“First unit of packed cells in the infuser,” Y/N stated from her corner.

            Just then, the doors opened, and Dr. Parker Ellis and Dr. John Shen came in, smirking. “What have we here?” Ellis asked.

            “It looks like two old white guys poached our patient,” Shen replied.

            Instantly, Y/N glanced up, hearing those words. Biting down on her bottom lip, she tried to hide her chuckle, but it came out loud. Jack hated when people called him old, except when it was Y/N. Y/N constantly called him her old man and Jack tolerates it. While Robby, well, Robby got offended as well. To them, they weren’t old, but both approaching or over fifty anyway.

            Jack and Robby instantly looked at one another as Y/N stared at them.

            “Oh, I know you’re not talking about us,” Robby replied, voice low as he went back to intubation.

            Jack looked at the two doctors. “Well, I know he’s definitely not talking about me,” Jack stated, shaking his head.

            “Back off, you two, leave the senior citizens alone. They’re sensitive today,” Y/N barked, smirking.  

            Jack just looked at Y/N, sending her a hard glare. “Jesus, Kid,” he muttered. Then he told them the case, “Crushed pelvis, haemorrhagic shock.”

            “MTP, pelvis binder. I’m doing an intubation, about to place an IJ,” Robby replied as Y/N grabbed saline and other medicines for the IV. “Ace, behave.”

            “You need us?” Shen asked, raising a brow.

            “We got this for now. Hold down the fort,” Jack fired back. “Get caught up on the day shift’s remaining PittFest patients, and we’ll get this guy stabilised.”

            They continued to work on Hector, trying their best to stabilise him. Jack got gowned up, mask on, safety glasses and X-ray vest.

            “Central line is in,” Jack called out.

            “Let’s hook up the rapid infuser over to the IJ, and then we can shoot the film,” Robby muttered as Y/N and he fixed the lines.

            “Clear for X-ray.”

            The x-ray tech moved the x-ray machine over the patient as Y/N took a step back. The beeping was still rapid from the machines. Y/N walked over to Robby, who was stretching in the corner.

            “How are you holding up, Cowboy?” she asked, nudging her hip in his.

            He looked over to her, and it was all in his eyes. “Fine,” he eventually said.

            Y/N just hummed. “Don’t believe it for a second,” she responded.

            They shot the X-ray while Jack continued to work on the patient.

            Robby looked at her. “I could say the same for you,” he replied. Y/N just nodded.

            “Jack knows,” she whispered to him as Jack continued to be busy. “Found out during the mass casualty. I couldn’t give blood, and he dug into me,” she said lowly.

            Robby glanced over to her and just nodded. “Good.”

            “Clear!” the tech called back out.

            Y/N and Robby walked over to the X-ray screen. Pulling out his glasses, Robby leaned over to look at the screen.

            “Oh, that ain’t good,” he muttered. Y/N nodded too.

            “Shit,” she muttered before walking over to the phone on the wall.

            Jack glanced up to them, pulling his mask off as he came over. “What have you got?” he took one look at the screen and groaned. “Widened symphysis pubis anteriorly. “

            “Distorted sacroiliac posteriorly,” Robby replied.

            Jack shook his head. “Guy’s bleeding like a stuck pig,” Jack muttered.

            “I got Dr. Walsh on speakerphone from the OR,” Y/N called out from the phone, holding it close to her ear before pressing a button and putting the phone back.

            “Hey, guys, what’s up?” Dr. Walsh asked over the phone.

            “We’ve got an unstable pelvis ring fracture, systolic of 68, EFAST negative,” Robby called out as they went back to the patient.

            “Thought we were closed for trauma,” Walsh replied.

            “Hospital worker versus reversing supply truck. MTP and pelvic binder in place,” Jack said.

            “TXA?”

            “Gave it,” Jack replied.

            “Stable for CT angiogram?” Walsh asked.

            “Uh, not at the moment, no,” Robby replied.

            “Keep transfusing,” Walsh replied as they continued to stabilise the patient.

            “The blood bank is still waiting on a delivery, unless you have some upstairs,” Robby replied, walking over to the phone.

            “He doesn’t need surgery,” Walsh stated. “He needs interventional radiology to embolise the bleeders.”

            Robby was leaning against one of the machines, glancing back at Jack.

            “They don’t like unstable patients,” Jack stated, confused by her comment.

            “They will tonight,” Walsh replied. “I’ll be down as soon as I finish this grade 5 liver lac.” Then Robby hung up on her.

            They were continuing, but the patient was not stabilising. Minutes went by. However, Mel walked into the room, looking at them.

            “54 after 3 rounds packed cells, FFP, and platelets,” Jack called out.

            “Not too shabby,” Ellis responded.

            Y/N glanced up when she spotted Mel, raising a brow. “Our measles kid’s parents are trying to move him to West Penn,” Mel said.

            Robby, Jack and Y/N stared at her. However, Jack and Y/N went back to work as Robby yelled out, “Let them!” Shaking his head, he sighed. “They’ve been warned multiple times. I even took the father into the PittFest morgue to drive the point home.”             Instantly, Jack and Y/N snapped their heads to Robby. “You what?” they said at the same time.

            “Yeah, I doubt any hospital will take him without a spinal tap,” Ellis responded. Robby was still on the phone.

            “I’ll be there in a minute. Don’t let them move that kid,” Shen stated.

            Robby hung up the phone and looked at the crowd of medical professionals. “They can see this guy in 45 minutes in Interventional Radiology.”

            “That’s a long time for this guy,” Shen replied.

            “They’re just starting a REBOA,” Robby muttered.

            “A REBOA? Who did a REBOA during a mass casualty?” Y/N asked, looking at Robby.

            Jack smirked at Y/N. “One of his interns did,” he snickered.

            “Santos?” Y/N asked, looking at Robby who was groaning in the corner. “Jesus, she’s gonna kill someone.”

            “Shut up,” Ellis responded.

            “I was busy,” Robby muttered, raising a brow.

“That was ballsy,” Shen responded. “Yeah, we can babysit this guy until IR is ready. You guys are three hours post-shift.”

“Whoo!” Robby exclaimed, throwing his hands up.

“This was supposed to be my day off,” Jack muttered, taking his gloves off, “bought steak and lobster. Was gonna grill and have wine.”

“I would love wine. Wine in bed. Wine with blankets. Wine with dogs and a good hot fucking shower,” Y/N muttered, stretching her neck.

“We got this,” Ellis stated.

Y/N was pulling her gloves off too now.

“Hasta la vista, vatos,” Jack called out as he threw his gloves in the bin. Jack’s hand came over, barely brushing Y/N’s back as they left the room.

“Talking Spanish at work, Old Man?” she hummed in his ear. “Talk to me dirty,” she whispered and smirked.

Jack glanced at her. “Y/N,” he whispered. “We are at work. Work.”

Y/N groaned. “Boring,” she muttered, rolling her eyes as she went to a computer. However, Jack grasped her arm for a second, pulling her back.

“When we get home,” he began, voice low, “we are going to talk. We are going to sit. We are going to have a conversation where we are going to be honest and listen to one another,” he said. “It’s been a day for you. You kept me in the dark.”

Y/N stared at him for a moment. He wanted to talk about the miscarriage that happened today. How she didn’t tell him. How she kept it from him.

“Serious talk. No jokes. No, trying to mask your feelings. Serious talk,” he said, raising a brow.

Y/N just nodded. “Yeah, you’re right,” she whispered. “We will talk.”

Jack nodded. “Good.” Then he went to leave, but she stopped him.

“When I’m ready,” she responded when he glanced away to leave her. “When I’m ready, Jack.”

Jack paused mid-step. His jaw tensed, that square silhouette of his back going rigid under his dark scrubs. For a second, he didn’t turn, just stood there with his hand curled at his side, as if deciding whether to push or leave it alone.

Then finally, he nodded once, slowly. Barely perceptible.

“Ok,” he said. His voice wasn’t sharp. It wasn’t cold. Just rough. Quiet. “When you’re ready.”

“We are ok, though, right?” she asked, voice breaking.

Jack looked at her, seeing the fear in her eyes for a moment, then he sent her a smile. “We will always be alright, Dove,” he whispered. “Just don’t suffer alone.”

Y/N nodded as he left to go to a computer to write his patients notes. A loud exhale came from her as she pulled her hair out of the elastic, running her fingers through the long locks as she looked around her. What a fucking day.

            Robby came back from the ambulance bay. Y/N was sitting at the nurses’ station, pink water bottle in hand as she sipped through the straw and wrote out her notes. Finishing off everything that needed to be done.

            Jack was by her at the standing computer. “Doing ok, man?” he asked as Robby walked by.

            Y/N glanced up, looking at Robby and his tired state.

            “Why do you keep asking me that?” Robby responded, walking into the nurses’ station before looking at the board.

            Y/N turned her chair to look at them.

            “Oh, I don’t know,” Jack muttered. “You did take the parent of a patient into our makeshift morgue,” Jack hissed, staring at Robby. “Forget that its technically a fucking crime scene. That’s just not cool, man.”

            Dana was next to Y/N, reading something as she slowly turned to look at Robby. Y/N was glancing between Jack and Robby now. Tension there.

            Just then, Gloria walked up. “Just the two heroes I wanted to see. We’re holding a press conference in the education auditorium,” she said, looking between Jack and Robby.

            Robby shook his head. “Not a chance.”

            “I know you hate this stuff, but it’s important for this department and the hospital,” Gloria began.

            Robby was breaking down. Y/N could see it. Jack could see it. He was rolling his shoulders back, looking at the ceiling as he took a sharp breath. “Trust me, Gloria. You don’t want me speaking to the press right now,” Robby said, sternly.

            “Or ever,” Jack spoke up. Robby was running a hand down his face.

            “Look, as much as you ER cowboys are a pain in my ass, what you and your department did here tonight was nothing short of miraculous. People need to know that,” Gloria stated, looking them over. “Take the win.”

            She had no idea. Not a single clue of what truly happened there that day.

            Ellis opened the door to Trauma 1, yelling out, “Need a second round of MTP.”

            Jack glanced up. “What the fuck?” he muttered before walking over. Y/N stayed where she was as she already had her hand over to the night nurses.

            Y/N was still at the nurses’ station. Cops came to talk to Dana about Doug Driscoll. Y/N continued with her finishing up.

            “Kid,” she heard behind her. Y/N glanced over her shoulder as Jack had his hands on the top of her chair.

            “Yes, my dear,” she hummed before going back to her computer. Jack’s hand came over, grabbing the water bottle that was next to her. Her giant pink one as he took a sip from it.

            “You missed out on something good,” he whispered as he looked over at her computer.

            “Do tell.”

            “I did preperitoneal packing,” he whispered in her ear.

            Y/N instantly turned her chair to look at him. Her mouth fell open as she crossed her arms. He stood there holding her water bottle, smirking at her. “That’s an OR procedure,” she whispered.

            Jack nodded, raised his brows before shrugging. “Sure is, but I did one. Here. Done hundreds at the combat hospitals, but just did one here,” he told her. Then he smirked again. “And you missed out because you’re too busy tip-tapping on your computer.”

            Y/N groaned. “Ugh, I did my hand off,” she muttered. “I should’ve been there. I would’ve loved to witness it.”

            Jack leaned against the wall now, smug as hell, sipping her pink water bottle like it was a celebratory cocktail.

            “You’d have loved it,” he murmured. “Patient was crashing. Abdomen tight. Blood pressure in the toilet. Had to act fast.”

            Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. “God, you’re the devil. Just showing off now.”

            “Oh, yeah,” he admitted easily. “It was glorious.”

            “You’re unbearable,” she muttered. “Give me that,” she muttered, taking the water bottle back and sipping it with exaggerated drama.

            “What’s in there? It takes like berries,” he muttered.

            “Robby put electrolytes in it and other fancy jazz a few hours ago,” she responded, sipping her drink.

            He slowly nodded. “Good,” he hummed. They stayed quiet for a second as she turned back to her computer. “Almost done?”

            “Yeah,” she said with a sigh. “Not too much left. Normally, I’m faster. But my four cups of coffee have exited my system, I’m running on like 3% of serotonin and residual adrenaline.”

            Jack nodded. “Once you’re done, let’s go home. I’ll pick up something on the way home for us to eat, as I can’t be assed to cook.”

            Y/N hummed, not answering right away. “Sushi,” she said eventually. “Or burritos. Or Chinese. But I feel like sushi,” she muttered. “Just order something you know I’ll eat. You pick, I’m easy.”

            He nodded before brushing his knuckles along her arm for a second. “We will eat and talk,” he whispered.

            “Yes, Captain,” she said. “Now scram and let me finish this.”

            He nodded before walking away to the other computer to finish his own patient notes and logging the procedures he did. Y/N stared at him for a moment before turning back to her screen.

            Next to her, Dana, glanced over. “You ok?” she asked.

            Y/N glanced over. “I will be.”

            She nodded. “Go home, sweetheart,” she muttered, nudging her. “Sleep. Talk. Eat. Cry if you need to. Shower. Then go lie on your old man’s chest and make him watch some reality TV.”

            Y/N smiled, chuckling. “Let’s see if he allows me to eat in bed. What a grump,” she muttered. “Military man and all his fucking rules. I pay half the mortgage, too.”

            Eventually, it was time to leave. Robby wanted to give a speech to everyone before they left. Y/N walked over from the nurses’ station, standing across from Jack and Robby, who were preparing for a little speech.

            “Alright, everybody!” Dana called out. “Listen up!”

            All eyes went on them.

            “Today should never have happened,” Robby began. Y/N looked at him, then to Jack, who had his arms crossed. “It’s impossible to imagine that would possess somebody to commit such a horrific act. It’s the worst of humanity, but it brought out the best in the rest of us. We saw our better angels come to aid of our patients. Each of you rose to the occasion. And I can’t…can’t tell you how proud I am of all of you,” Robby expressed, looking all of them over, voice filled with emotion. “This place will break your heart. But it is also full of miracles, and that is a testament to all of you coming together and doing what we do best. Thank you for everything you did here today. We saw 112 mass casualty patients come through here in the last four hours, and 106 of them are gonna live.” Robby stopped, tears coming to his eyes as he glanced down. His voice broke. “None of us are gonna forget today…Even if we really, really want to.” Robby had tears in his eyes. Actual tears. Y/N bit down on her bottom lip, glancing at the floor as she took a breath. “So go home. Let yourselves cry. You’ll feel better. It’s just grief leaving the body.” Robby did one final nod before Jack patted him on the back as Robby walked away.

-

Robby was on the roof when Jack came up. Y/N was finishing off something and Jack saw Robby sneak off somewhere. He followed. Silent footsteps as Robby heard him eventually halt.

            Robby let out a sigh.

            “You’re in my spot,” Jack stated, nodding to where Robby was standing on the roof, hands on his lips. Robby was past the safety rails; however, he didn’t respond. “Just so you know, Grubhub will not deliver to the roof, but there is a DoorDash guy…uh…Marco, who will trek up here for an extra ten bucks, twenty if you want beer.”

            Robby didn’t say anything for a moment, focusing on the city skyline and the bright lights while the darkness slept. Jack walked a little further up, grasping the rails, then glanced at his best mate. “Nice speech down there. Wish I had given it.”

            Robby shook his head, still looking ahead. “No, you don’t.”

            Jack scoffed, shaking his head. “No. Fuck, no. But I’m glad somebody did.” Then he leaned over, looking over the railing to the fall. “Yeah,” he hummed. “I think I finally understand why I keep coming back now,” he said, taking a moment as Robby glanced at him quickly. “It’s in our DNA. It’s what we do. We can’t help it. We’re the…we’re the bees that protect the hive.”

            Robby sniffled, nodding as tears came down his face. However, he shook his head. “Maybe you, not me.”

            “What are you talking about?” Jack asked.

            “You know damn well what I’m talk–“ he halted, glancing away. “I’m talking about.” Robby continued to shake his head. “I broke.”

            “You didn’t break,” Jack muttered, voice stern. “You didn’t break,” he repeated.

            “I shut down. At the moment, everybody needed me the most, I wasn’t there. I couldn’t do it. I choked.”

            Jack’s brows furrowed. “For what, for forty seconds?” Robby stayed quiet. “Three minutes? Ten minutes?” Robby turned to look at Jack. “So, fucking what? We all have that. That is what happens when you’re in a war and nothing makes sense.” Robby was running his hands through his hair. “We survived as a species because we learned how to cooperate and communicate, so when we’re in the middle of killing each other, it divides the very logic of our existence. Your brain starts to short-circuit. All you can do is focus on the medicine. The medicine’s the only thing that saves the patient and your sanity.”

            Robby nodded along. “I’m gonna need a drink if you keep talking,” he muttered.

            Jack glanced over. “You get what I’m saying, right?” Jack asked, voice low and brow raised. He leaned in, tone going serious. “You rocked that shit down there tonight.” Then a beat as he tried to get Robby to make eye contact. “Yeah? You rocked that shit down there tonight. We all did. Now that is a compliment. Accept the damn compliment for once.”

            Robby looked back at Jack. “What if we just didn’t talk for a minute?” Robby muttered.

            “I’m just trying to help,” Jack replied.

            “I know.”

            “I appreciate you–“

            “Still talking,” Robby muttered, glancing away.

            Jack nodded, looking away as he stayed quiet. “Sorry.”

            Silence happened for a few minutes as the two of them took steady breathes and thought for a moment. Robby groaned lightly as Jack just stared at the horizon. After about thirty seconds, Jack looked up from looking at his feet. “I know you said not to talk, but I do need to thank you,” he began.

            Robby looked over. “For what?”

            “Being there for Y/N today,” Jack responded.

            Robby didn’t say anything right away. His jaw flexed once, then again. He looked away again, back to the skyline, like it was safer than the weight in Jack’s voice.

            Jack exhaled slowly through his nose. “I was mad,” he admitted, voice quiet now. “Fuck, I was mad. Not because I thought you did anything wrong or she did anything wrong, but because I wasn’t there. She needed someone, and I wasn’t the one there. And it killed me because the minute she was mine, I made a promise to myself that she’d never have to suffer alone again. But you were there and Dana.”

            Robby swallowed hard. His lips parted like he might say something, but then he just shook his head and blinked rapidly.

            “Never thought we would have an experience like this,” Jack admitted. “She has endo, severely, and I knew the chances of her getting pregnant were slim, and her carrying to full term was even slimmer. But,” he sighed, “it happened, and you were there. You were the one who figured it out before me, who gave her the ultrasound. You were the one who didn’t press, didn’t push. You just sat there with her. And when I couldn’t… When I didn’t even know what was going on, you had her back. So, thank you.” Jack found Robby’s eyes again.

            Robby was quiet again, his chest rising a little harder now. And then, he broke, tears coming down.

            “You don’t have to thank me,” he said hoarsely. “I did it because I care about her. I’ve always cared about her.”

            Jack nodded. “I know,” he muttered.

            “I tried not to,” Robby whispered, looking away. “After you two got serious. I told myself I was over it. That I was just her friend. That I was her partner’s best mate. That I was her boss. But watching her today,” he stopped, rubbing at his eyes. “Watching her go through that. Alone. Quiet. Acting like she was fine. It,” he stopped and took a breath, “killed me.” He took a sharp breath. “Then she threatened me to never mention it again. That she was never going to tell you–“

            “What?” Jack muttered.

            Robby bit his bottom lip. “She was going through it. It was conflicting in her brain. She didn’t want you to go through loss again.” Jack nodded. “I love her too, you know,” Robby whispered. “Just not the way you do. Not anymore. But she’s family. She’s always been family.”

            Jack didn’t speak at first.

            He looked at Robby, really looked at him. The way his shoulders shook despite his effort to hide it, the way he wiped at his eyes without thinking, the way his voice stayed hoarse like something had torn through his chest. And Jack felt it in his own ribs, too. That ache. The familiar pain of watching Y/N suffer and knowing there was nothing he could do to take it away.

            Jack nodded. “Yeah,” he muttered finally. “She’s family. That and her goblin brother,” he added with a chuckle. Then he shrugged. “Fucking genius that kid is. Scares me. The two of them. But I love that kid too. Even if he crashes in my bed when I work nights or steals my beer when I’m not looking or wrestles me when I’m in the middle of doing something.”

            Robby nodded, chuckling. “That’s her kid,” he muttered. “And we will never know the real story.”

            Jack shook his head. “No, we never will. I know enough, but not all of it. Don’t know where she lived between fourteen and eighteen when she raised him or how she fed him or…” he stopped and sighed. “I just know there was a woman named Charlotte.”

            Robby nodded as he grasped the railing. “I didn’t want to be the one there,” he confessed. “I would’ve rather it been you. She should’ve had you. But when I saw her, fuck,” he muttered, “she was lecturing me and then doubled over in pain. I found her grabbing an ultrasound machine, and I pushed myself into the room and made her let me do it. I didn’t want her to suffer alone. And she just shrank…she was so small. And she said she was fine, but you could tell–“

            “Yeah, she hides,” Jack muttered.

            “She wants to be a mom” Robby muttered.

Jack nodded. “It fucking destroys me that I can’t give her that,” he muttered. “I would. I would do anything for her to be a mother…despite my age,” Jack chuckled.

Robby nodded. “I didn’t want her to look at the screen,” Robby continued. “But she did. I saw the sac, she did too. Saw the lack of rhythm. I just…” he stopped himself, voice breaking. “And she didn’t even cry. She just…thanked me. Thanked me. And I didn’t know what to do with that.”

Jack’s voice came out like sandpaper. “She does that. She thanks you when she doesn’t know how to feel.” Robby nodded. Jack bit down his bottom lip. “She said we’d talk. When she’s ready.”

Robby shook his head. “She won’t be,” he muttered. “Not fully. But she’ll try. For you.”

Jack nodded. “Get that drink now?” he asked.

Robby nodded. “Yeah.”

-

Y/N was at the nurses’ station on her phone. Hot pink cardigan on and her giant handbag that fits her whole life beside her. She leaned back as Jack and Robby appeared.

            “Where’d you two old men run away to?” she called out, raising a brow as she pocketed her phone. “I feel left out. Complete FOMO.”

            Jack’s brows furrowed. “FOMO?” he asked.

            “Fear of missing out. Get with the language,” she hummed, smirking. “Seriously, where’d you fuck off to?”

            “Roof,” Jack stated.

            “Damn, where was my invitation?” she asked as she got up to walk to them, grabbing her bag off the floor.

            “Kids aren’t allowed there,” Jack stated as they began to walk to the lockers.

            Robby rolled his eyes, rubbing his face. “You wouldn’t have liked it anyway. It was mostly us bonding over trauma and failing mental health.”

            Y/N chuckled, pushing her bag over her shoulder, but Jack took it off, holding the massive bag in his hands. “So…a brooding pity party with a skyline view? Sounds romantic? Were the clothes on or off?” she asked, smirking.

            “Kid,” Jack hissed. “Enough.”

            “What? I love a little guy-on-guy action,” she chuckled, nudging their arms. “Favourite porn category.”

            “I am going to put a muzzle on you,” Jack muttered as they grabbed their things.

            She groaned. “Ugh, fine. I prefer lesbian action anyway,” she muttered as they walked to the exit after Jack grabbed his backpack and Robby too.

            Jack sent her a death glare while Robby just threw his head back in laughter. “I don’t know how you live with her, man,” he muttered, shaking his head before patting Jack on the back.

            “I don’t either,” Jack deadpanned. “I survive her.”

            Y/N beamed like he’d just given her a compliment. “Oh, you love me, Captain. I’m a full-time adventurer. Keeps you young.”

            “You’re a full-time migraine, is what you are,” Jack muttered as they left the ER into the waiting room, still holding her bag in his hand. “Whoa,” Jack mumbled as they entered the waiting room. “It didn’t take long to fill up in here.”

            “Never does,” Robby responded as they walked through it in a single line, Y/N in front.

            “How long until we run out of boarding beds?” Jack asked over his shoulder.

            “Probably sunrise,” Robby responded.

            They were walking when Jack halted with Robby. Y/N looked from behind them as Myrna came in with a police officer. Dressed in sparkles and chaos, she grinned at the doctors while the police officer had her bag slung over his shoulder.

            “She had a seizure,” the officer said to them.

            “Of course she did,” Robby replied.

            Myrna looked Jack up and down, smirking. “Looking good, Dr. Abbot,” she hummed, winking.

            Jack nodded to her. “You too, Myrna,” he replied respectfully.

            “Oh, thanks,” she hummed back. Then she saw Y/N. “Cupcake,” she muttered.

            “Hiya,” Y/N replied, grasping onto Jack’s bag with her hand. His camo one with his last name embroidered on it. “Dabbling in nighttime mischief?” she replied.

            “Always,” Myrna muttered, winking. Then she saw Robby as he walked away. She called over her shoulder. “Hey, Fruitcake. Fruitcake and Cupcake, my favourite bakery.”

            Y/N called over her shoulder. “Want sprinkles with that attitude, Myrna?” Then she heard a cackle.

            “You keep that sass up, Cupcake, and I’m gonna put you in my will. Leave you my collection of bedazzled ashtrays and felony charges.”

            Y/N snorted as she continued to walk with Jack and Robby.

            “Don’t harass my nurse, Myrna,” Robby called over his shoulder.

            Then Jack looked at Robby. “Fruitcake?” he hummed then looked at Y/N. “Cupcake?” he asked, eyes narrowing.

            “She reminds me of my mother,” Y/N muttered. “Without the pills. But attitude, absolutely. And the desire to show everyone her vagina.”

            They all started chuckling. They exited the hospital; Jack placed his hand on Y/N’s back as they walked across the street to the park. It was dark, Jack dropped his hand as they got closer to the park bench. Y/N brought her cardigan closer. It was a Friday night in September, the breeze was there. Jack, who wore no jacket, wasn’t bothered.

            “Cold?” she asked him.

            He shook his head. “I’m right,” he muttered. She just nodded but rubbed her hand up and down his bare arm.

            They got to the park bench. Princess and Donnie were there. Smiles went around.

            “Hey, hide the hard drugs, kids,” Donnie said as he threw a beer to Robby. Then he threw one to Jack, who missed.

            “Oh, nice catch,” Robby muttered.

            “Loser,” Y/N muttered before perfectly catching hers.

            Jack sat on the edge of the bench, placing his bag on the ground with Y/N’s before grabbing the back of Y/N’s caridgan to pull her next to him. She sat down as Robby sat next to her.

            “Man,” Robby groaned as he took a deep breath.

            Jack was playing with his prosthetic. He rolled up his cargo pants, revealing his transformer leg. Y/N glanced over to watch him.

            Princess sighed before Donnie shook his head. “Today was a motherfucker,” he muttered.

            “You in pain?” Y/N asked, looking at him. “How’s your hip?” she asked as he began to undo the leg.

            “I’m fine,” Jack muttered. Y/N just nodded.

            “You sure?”

            “Grand, Kid,” he said as he got it off and handed it to her. Y/N took it, placing it in her lap as if it were nothing. It was normal for them.

            Donnie looked at Jack. “Have you ever been in anything like that before?” he asked.

            Jack began to massage his leg, and Y/N grasped his hand. “I’ll massage it tonight,” she muttered, bringing his left hand to her lips and kissing it. It was quiet enough for them to only hear. He was still wearing his wedding ring, but she was not bothered by it.

            “Let’s hope none of us ever had to again,” Robby replied.

            Princess shook her head. “No shit.”

            Jack glanced up from massaging his leg. “We probably will,” he stated, voice gruffy and blunt. “If not us, others.” Then he grabbed his beer, cracking it.

            Y/N cracked hers, bringing it to her lips. A subtle groan came from her lips. “Ugh, divine.”

            “Yeah, but we survived that craziness, right?” Donnie hummed, nodding.

            Jack just nodded, eyes directly on the nurse. Eye contact always.

            “To the Pitt crew,” Donnie stated, taking his can up to the sky to toast.

            “To all the people we saved,” Princess added, holding her beer up.

            “Here, here,” Robby muttered.

            “And the ones we couldn’t,” Jack added.

            “To chaos, blood, gore and drama. We slayed that puppy like it’s a motherfucker,” Y/N muttered.

            Then they took a sip, smiling at one another.

            A few figures appeared as they drank their beer.

            “Is this where all the cool kids hang out?” Samira (Mohan) expressed, smirking as she came up with Javadi and Mateo.

            “Oh, you know it,” Donnie replied, opening the cooler to throw them a beer.

            “Nice of you to join us,” Princess said.

            “If there ever was a day,” Samira muttered as Donnie and each threw them a beer.

            Javadi got a beer, and she shook her head. “Actually, sorry, I don’t drink,” she muttered. “I don’t know why I took that.” Then she handed it to Mateo.

            “She’s not old enough,” Princess muttered.

            “I’d say if she is old enough to put in a chest tube and intubate, she’d old enough to drink a beer,” Robby muttered.

            “Kudos,” Y/N replied. “How old are you, Kid?” she asked.

            “Twenty,” Javadi muttered.

            “Holy shit,” Y/N replied. “Youngling. My brother is turning twenty soon, he drinks beer. Well,” she looked over to Jack who was looking at the ground, “Jack’s beer.” Then she chuckled.

            “We won’t tell your mom,” Mateo stated, handing her a beer.

            Javadi looked between them. How Jack placed his hand on Y/N’s thigh, squeezing it.

            “Wait, you two are together?” Javadi gasped looking between Jack and Y/N.

            Y/N smirked, taking a sip of her beer. She lowered it and raised a brow. “What gave that away?” she hummed.

            Jack didn’t even look up, just took another sip of his beer, hand still resting on Y/N’s thigh possessively.

            “I thought…” Javadi trailed off, looking at Robby with a confused expression. “I thought you and Dr. Robby were a thing.”

            Robby choked on his beer.

            Y/N let out a loud chuckle. “Oh my God,” she mumbled. “I did hear that rumour today,” she hummed. “Best entertainment.”

            Robby chuckled, shaking his head. “No, Ace and I,” he looked at Y/N. “Good mates.”

            Javadi’s brows furrowed. “You called him, ‘Cowboy’,” she stated. “Repeatly.”

            Y/N shrugged. “Been at this ER for eight years. Everyone gets a nickname,” she hummed and looking at Jack. “Old man and Captain,” she hummed as Jack met her eyes. “What else do I call you?” Then she patted his thigh.

            Jack muttered. “Six years,” he said, glancing up. “Been tolerating her bullshit for six years.”

            Y/N hummed with her beer and hand, prosthetic on her lap. “Robby and I are close. Best mates with a dysfunctional but healthy relationship. However, I’m more into emotionally constipated war veterans with truck obsessions, collects emergency medicine kits and superiority complexes.”

            Jack snorted. “You forgot the prosthetic.”

            “Oh yeah,” she hummed. “That’s the best part. Real kink starter,” she stated, smirking.

            Everyone snorted on their drink while Jack did a simple, “Y/N,” hiss.

            Javadi blinked. “There’s a…a vibe between you two,” she muttered, looking between Y/N and Robby.

            Jack stayed quiet, looking at the floor.

            “Just wait till they work together,” Princess stated, pointing to Jack and Y/N. “They read each other’s minds,” she whispered, smirking. Princess then handed Jack some wipes.

            “Thank you,” he replied, taking them.

            “You guys do this after every shift?” Samira asked.

            Jack took the prosthetic from Y/N’s lap and began to clean the shoe on it.

            “Not always,” Y/N replied.

            “Usually, it’s a little more lively,” Donnie stated.

“The emergency department throws wicked parties.”

            Y/N watched Jack clean the blood off his shoes. Then he gestured to her with the wipes. She shook her head. “Not now.” He then nodded. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”

            “It’s going to stain,” he whispered. She nodded and squeezed his hand.

            “Just adds to the fear of me,” she replied.

            Just then, Robby began to cackle. Loud laughter. Y/N glanced over to him.

            “What’s so funny?” Samira asked.

            Robby ran a hand through his hair and beard before looking at Javadi. “I just realised this is your first shift,” he said, looking at the med student.

            Y/N’s eyes widened while Jack continued to focus on his shoes.

            “Yeah,” Javadi muttered.

            Then everyone began to laugh together. Jack smirked. “That was baptism by fire, baby,” he hummed, holding his beer up and a toasting moment.

            “I can pretty much guarantee you the next one will be easier,” Robby added.

            Javadi stared at Robby before nodding. “I really fucking hope so,” she stated, sternly.

            “You’ll love it soon,” Y/N replied. “If you want to do ED. You’ll fall in love with it. Its gore, chaos, disorganisation and blood. You’ll be addicted to it without even realising it. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else,” she said, nodding. Then chuckled. “Maybe plastics. You can make so much money in plastics.”

            “You’re not leaving the ER,” Robby and Jack stated at the same time.

            “Doll,” Y/N stated, looking at Javadi, “take it from me. You’re twenty. Finishing your medical degree. Mama is a hot-shot surgeon. There’s an expectation for greatness from your environment.” Javadi stared at her. “Pick something you love. That makes you excited every day. That fills your bucket. Don’t live for other people. You’re the maker of your own destiny.”

            Javadi blinked at her like she’d never heard someone say that out loud before. Slowly, she nodded, then glanced down at her beer in her hands, her eyes glassy with overwhelm. “Thanks,” she muttered, voice small but grateful. “I need to hear that.”

            Y/N nodded. “You remind me of my brother. He’s incredibly intelligent and I tell him that its ok to fuck up, its ok to not know but its ok to take time to figure it out. You have the privilege to do that. You have the time. So, if ER is not for you, then find something you love, and if medicine isn’t for you, then there are other ways to help people.”

            Javadi nodded. “Thanks,” she muttered. “I don’t know if I want be a doctor after today,” she admitted.

            “Because today isn’t normal,” Y/N replied. “You’re here for a few weeks for your rotation, you’ll see normal. But you were great today. Excellent. You’re a great doctor, Victoria.”

            She just sent a smile to Y/N. “Thanks.”

            Jack looked over to Y/N. “You know this is a park hangout with beer not a TED talk, right?” he hummed, smirking.

            “Oh, shut up. You love my inspirational moments,” Y/N replied. “Got to use the psych degree somehow.”

            “You have a psych degree?” Javadi asked.

            Y/N smiled. “I have a double major in nursing and psychology with honours. An IQ of 178 and an eidetic memory. Don’t let the charisma, humour and the massive rack confuse you, Doll.”

            Javadi’s mouth opened, then closed again like her brain had stalled. “You’re kidding. Why aren’t you a doctor?” she asked, shrugging.

            Jack and Robby both looked at Y/N, who stayed quiet. She stared at Javadi for a moment. “That’s where we are different, Victoria. I didn’t have the privilege to be one. But you do,” she stated, smiling. “So, make it your bitch. Because if I was in your position. I would’ve been a fucking goddamn award-winning surgeon.”

            Javadi swallowed hard, her face falling a little with the weight of Y/N’s words. “Sorry,” she muttered, genuinely, cheeks tinged with pink. “I didn’t–“

            Y/N cut her off with a soft smile and shake of her head. “Doll, it’s grand. This isn’t a pity party. This is me being a mom for a moment who is like ‘hey, make the world your bitch and bend it over so you can peg it’. I’ve given the same speech to my brother. You should meet. He’s a quantum physics major with a…well, debating between psychology or math as a minor. Honours as well. His IQ is 174, though. However, I’ve saved hundreds of lives and I’m happy so that’s what matters. I love what I do, and I love my life. I boss everyone around. So, don’t worry, ok?”

            Javadi just nodded.

            “You boss all of us around,” Robby muttered, lifting his beer. “Like an emotional support dominatrix.”

            Y/N gasped. “Jesus, Cowboy, want me to pull out the leather outfit as well and the whip?” she hummed. Robby just chuckled, shaking his head. Y/N glanced back at Javadi then Samira. “Don’t talk to your attendings the way I do,” she said seriously. “It will probably get you fired.”

            Jack sighed. “Behave, Y/N. Enough of the TED talks,” he stated, sipping his beer. “It’s too late.”

            “Fine, I’ll save it for the pillow talk,” Y/N hummed, sipping her beer now. Jack rolled his eyes. “I bring it all. The speeches. The depth. The rack. What do you bring, McGrumpy?” she hummed, looking at her man.

            Jack just stated, very seriously. “The retirement plan.”

            Robby snorted beer out of his nose.

            Donnie then hummed. “Hey, at least you didn’t get pissed on,” he added to Javadi.

            “Oh my God, the kid got peed on, didn’t he?” Y/N chuckled.

            “Who?” Jack whispered to her.

            “Whitaker. Poor Whitaker,” Y/N muttered. “Med student.”

            “Where is he?” Princess asked.

            “Yeah, probably quit,” Donnie stated.

            Robby shook his head, groaning. “No… Oh, that kid’s tough. He’ll be back. Just like the rest of us.”

            Everyone nodded, however, an ambulance came by. The loud sirens were echoing.

            “Home?” Jack whispered to Y/N. She nodded.

            “Ok, that’s it for me,” Robby muttered, standing up as he grabbed his backpack.

            “Want a ride, Cowboy?” Y/N asked. “Jack is going to get us food. He has the truck; I have the Bronco. So, I can drop you home.”

            Robby looked at Y/N and nodded. “Yeah, sure, Ace. That’ll be great.” He stood up and looked at everyone. “Goodnight. Get some rest. Tomorrow is another day.”

-

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-

Hope you enjoyed. xoxo

Send in imagine requests for Dove & Captain!

Ava <3

[ijustwannabecool]

Drive to Survive – Episode 3: Family Mode

Lewis Hamilton x Wife!Reader

Summary... The world knows Lewis Hamilton for his speed. But in Monaco, Drive to Survive captures a side no one’s ever seen before: the chaotic, adorable magic of the Hamilton family—through the voices of his three biggest fans.

Trigger Warnings: Pure fluff, children with microphones, soft dad Lewis, emotional overload, very light language from the kids that will make you giggle.

A/N: hope you guys enjoy this fic. Please let me know what you guys wanna see next. Request are open!! Happy reading and have a beautiful rest of your day!!

Like, share, comment, reblog!

-----

The paddock is buzzing with race-day energy—teams in motion, engines roaring, broadcasters perched, cameras flashing. But Y/N’s entire world is bundled on the couch of the Mercedes suite.

Mateo is hanging halfway off her lap, Leo is sitting cross-legged on a beanbag in front of the screen, and baby Sofia is snuggled to her chest in a wrap, a pacifier bobbing gently as she hums.

Netflix producers are circling, politely attaching clip mics to the boys' shirts.

“I don’t know if I love this,” Y/N murmurs to Lewis, who is already half-suited and crouched next to them, one hand balancing Sofia’s head for a kiss.

“You don’t have to do it,” he says immediately, his voice low and warm. “One word from you and I’ll tell them to shut it down.”

“No, no,” she smiles, brushing his curls from his forehead. “I’m just being protective. This is the first time people are going to see them. Like... really hear them.”

Lewis leans in, nuzzles the side of her face and whispers, “They’re gonna love them. They’re gonna see what I see every day.”

She rolls her eyes, but it softens into a grin.

“Alright,” he says, standing up and pressing kisses to all three of their heads. “Wish me luck, superstars.”

---

MIC’D UP CHAOS: “THE HAMILTON KIDS AT MONACO GP”

Leo (7): “Mum, is Daddy gonna beat Verstappen today?” You (laughing): “You say that like it’s a video game.” Mateo (4): “I beat Max in Mario Kart yesterday.” Leo: “That was me, Teo.” Mateo: “Liar.”

---

Leo (pointing at the TV): “Look! Daddy’s waving! That’s for us!” Mateo (squinting): “No it’s not. That’s for the tires.”

---

Mateo (gasps): “Why did Daddy say that word! That’s a BAD word!” You (whispering): “Yeah, and we don’t repeat it.” Leo (grinning): “He only says it when he’s behind someone slow.” Mateo: “So Max is slow?” You: “Oh my God.”

---

Sofia (9 months): [happy squeal] Mateo: “Sofiiiiii, stop yelling. I’m listening to Daddy’s car.”

---

Leo (dramatically): “If Daddy doesn’t win, I’m never eating broccoli again.” You: “Wow. Revolutionary protest.” Mateo: “I already don’t eat broccoli. I’m winning.”

---

Mateo (whines): “Mum, Leo took my popcorn!” Leo: “You dropped it!” Mateo: “IT’S THE PRINCIPLE!”

---

Sofia (fusses quietly) You: “I know, I know. You miss Daddy too.” Leo (softly): “He always kisses her forehead before he races. Maybe she knows.”

---

AFTER LEWIS’S LAST-LAP OVERTAKE FOR P2

Leo (standing): “GOOOOOOO DADDY!” Mateo (screaming): “ZOOM ZOOM ZOOMMMMMMM!” Sofia: [Claps] You (cheering): “That’s it! That’s our guy!”

But the cheering turns to panic for a split second when Lewis swerves on the final corner to block a late overtake.

Mateo (voice trembling): “Is Daddy okay? Is his car broken?” You (squeezing his hand): “He’s fine, love. That was just… some spicy defending.” Leo: “Daddy’s got the grip of God, that’s what Uncle Nico said!”

---

POST-RACE: THE REUNION

Lewis skips press. Walks right past the crew. The helmet comes off, the smile is tired but real—and it grows tenfold when he sees them.

He jogs to the suite, rips off his gloves.

Leo runs straight into him, launching into a hug. Lewis swoops him up, spins once before grabbing Mateo in his other arm. Sofia is still wrapped on your chest, and he presses a kiss to her cheek before kissing you right on the mouth—sweat, adrenaline and all.

“You’re insane,” you whisper, breathless.

“I know,” he says, grinning. “But did you see that move?”

“They all saw it. And heard your entire potty-mouth symphony too.”

Leo: “Daddy, you said the F-word three times!”

Lewis: “Three? That’s all?”

Mateo (serious): “I’m telling Grandma.”

Lewis (laughing): “You traitor.”

---

CUT TO THE FINAL MOMENTS OF THE EPISODE

The family is on the couch later that evening in the motorhome, Netflix crew wrapping up.

Sofia’s finally asleep.

Leo is laying half-on Lewis’s chest. Mateo is holding the remote like it’s a championship trophy.

The race replay is on. The audio is off.

But the family noise? Oh, it’s all still there.

Mateo: “Next time, can I wear Daddy’s helmet?” Lewis: “Only if you want to get helmet hair.” Leo: “He already has helmet hair.”

You (laughing): “He was born with helmet hair.”

Lewis looks at all of them—his wife, his kids, this moment. And he whispers it low so only the mics can catch:

“Best podium I’ve ever had.”

---

BONUS SCENE: THE LAST CLIP OF THE EPISODE

“MIC CHECK: LEO AND MATEO ANSWER YOUR QUESTIONS” (Filmed post-race, aired during the closing credits)

The screen fades from the on-track footage to a quieter room inside the paddock hospitality area. Two chairs. A backdrop with the Ferrari logo. Two small boys—Leo and Mateo—sit with juice boxes, clip mics still taped to their shirts, legs swinging in rhythm.

-

A Netflix producer off-screen asks, “Okay boys, ready?”

Leo (nodding seriously): “We’re always ready.”

Mateo (confused): “Ready for what? Are we fighting?”

---

Producer: “What’s it like having Lewis Hamilton as your dad?”

Leo: “He’s just… our dad. He makes pancakes on Sundays. They’re okay.”

Mateo: “He lets me eat cookie dough when Mum says no.”

Leo: “He also yells a lot when people drive slow.”

---

Producer: “What does he say when he’s mad?”

Mateo (smirking): “I’m not allowed to say.”

Leo: “But it starts with F.”

---

Producer (laughing): “Who do you think is his biggest fan?”

Leo: “Me.”

Mateo (gasps): “No, it’s me!”

Leo: “You didn’t even know what DRS was until last week!”

Mateo: “Well you cried when he lost in Baku!”

Leo (shrugs): “It was emotional.”

---

Producer: “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

Leo: “Race engineer. I want to help Daddy win.”

Mateo: “I wanna drive faster than Daddy.”

Leo: “That’s impossible.”

Mateo (grinning): “I’m gonna do it in reverse.”

---

Producer (last question): “If your dad could hear you right now, what would you tell him?”

Leo: “We’re proud of you.”

Mateo: “Love you, Daddy. You’re the best vroom vroom.”

Both (together): “And can we get ice cream now?”

The camera lingers on their faces for just a second longer—Leo’s confident grin, Mateo’s wide-eyed innocence—before the screen fades to black and the episode credits roll to the sound of a faint baby squeal in the background.

[yungistiny]

GAMEBOY ═ chapter three

[ J. Yunho ]

chapter three: better than he imagined

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summary: yunho has no idea that his neighbor across the hall, the same one he’s had a crush on, was his arch nemesis behind a headset

warning: dom yunho, bratty/sub reader, slight orgothumophilia, masturbation, unprotected sex, spanking, choking, degradation, overstimulation, oral, sexting, more will be added

pairing: gamer yunho x gamer afab reader

genre: smut, romance, angst, drama

word count: 1.7k

chapter one

chapter two

chapter four

masterlist

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“Fuck.”

Yunho probably should of been keeping up with the time. The hot shower he had been taking had turned cold, his hand wrapped around himself, eyes closed, mouth slightly parted as the water continued to pour on him.

He had been stroking himself for so long, always getting to that premise of orgasm only to not be able to. It was pissing him off. Yunho had jumped in the shower to clean up and rid himself of the problem Juniper had given him after the heated messages before y/n got there, only he couldn’t come.

He didn’t understand what the hell was wrong with him. “Come on.” He was practically begging himself. He tried everything. Tried picturing the faceless image of Juniper on her knees. Tried imagining y/n splayed on his bed for him. Nothing. Nothing was working. Yunho was hard as hell and he just couldn’t for the life of him get himself off.

He finally got out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, hair dripping a little but Yunho was too frustrated to care. He went to walk towards his room but there was an incessant knocking at the front door. “Shit!”

It had to be y/n. Wooyoung wouldn’t knock, he’d use his key but Yunho’s roommate was at work. San wouldn’t knock either. He would just find a way in. Yunho once caught him chilling in the living room, eating what leftover takeout Yunho and Wooyoung had.

He couldn’t just keep standing there. He couldn’t keep making her wait. Yunho speed walked to the front door, one hand gripping his towel to make sure it stayed on. “Hey…” y/n trailed off, eyes instantly going to his bare and still damp chest. Her eyes locked in, trailing down his abdomen, taking in the prominent abs, tracing them with her gaze.

Then her gaze went lower. The light baby blue towel wrapped around his waist did little to hide the obvious bulge.

I’m too big? You wouldn’t even be able to fit me in that smartass mouth of yours

Fuck. And it was big, that was clearly obvious. Y/N could feel her face flush, gaze averting back up to meet Yunho’s. His ears were red, cheeks flushed too. “Pizza.” She decided to pretend like she wasn’t just blatantly checking him out.

“Oh!” Yunho blinked, shaking his head. He’d seen the way y/n had stared at him a little too long but there was no way she was checking him out. If she liked him like that she would have made a move a long time ago, right? He grabbed the two pizza boxes out of her hands, bringing them into the open kitchen and sitting them on the counter.

Y/N followed him inside, a bag hanging from each arm, a small six pack of soju in each. “I’m gonna go get dressed.” Yunho helped her put the soju in the fridge before darting off to his bedroom. Fuck! He still had a slight boner and there was nothing he could try and do about it now.

He grabbed the tightest pair of underwear he had and the baggiest sweatpants he had, putting them on along with a plain black shirt. All Yunho could hope for is by watching Yellowjackets, a show about a group of survivors on borderline cannibalism, would make his hard on finally disappear.

And it did. They were already through the first six pack of soju, first pizza eaten and halfway through the fifth episode of the show. “She really killed her only friend!” Y/N was giggling, not that the scene was funny but she was tipsy and the scene took her by surprise.

“I told you Misty was crazy.” Yunho laughed getting up from the couch to go get another drink. He knew he was drunk, stumbling a little when he stood too fast. He grabbed a canned soda from the fridge, popping it open with one hand.

Y/N watched him in her slightly drunken gaze, she hadn’t drank as much as he had already but she was far from sober. And fuck did Yunho look tempting. His hair had air dried, wavy now and looked so soft. His neck and face was flushed red from the alcohol.

She suddenly thought about how after their little messages last night, not that Yunho was aware yet that it was her, y/n had made herself come with her favorite vibrator and Yunho’s name on her tongue. She wanted him, needed him so bad it was starting to drive her crazy.

Yunho was having the same problem. He was so damn sexually frustrated thanks to Juniper, he was on the verge of throwing all caution to the wind and just make a move. He’s wanted y/n for so long, the alcohol in his system killing any nerves or rational thinking.

And they would both blame their next actions on the alcohol but it was anything but. Y/N just looked at him too long, looked too good in the shorts she had on and Yunho loved her legs, especially her thighs.

Y/N kissed him first, his perfect cupids bow lips just too enticing. It was all hunger and lust, tongues fighting each other as Yunho pinned her down beneath him on the couch, moans escaping them both as he moved, picking her up, y/n legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her to his room.

Yunho struggled to open his door, almost losing his balance. He was too afraid to break the kiss, scared he was just drunk and passed out, imagining things. He needed this to be real.

He did break the kiss though, or well, y/n did, trailing her mouth up his throat, tongue darting across his adam’s apple. “Fuck…” she found his sweet spot and Yunho was a moaning mess once he finally got his bedroom door open.

He practically fell to his knees, dragging her shorts down her legs, helping her undress. His tongue was diving into her already wet cunt the second y/n clothes were tossed behind him carelessly in his room.

He wasted no time making her come. Sucking her clit into his mouth, two of his long fingers thrusting into her, y/n walls clenching around them as she pulled at his hair.

Yunho added a third finger, curling them and thrusting again, his fingertips brushing against that spongey little spot deep inside her that had y/n crying out his name as her orgasm hit her. Coming all over him, his tongue trying to desperately lick her back clean.

He half expected it to end then, Yunho didn’t exactly have any condoms at the moment and he was certainly too big to fit Wooyoung’s. But then y/n had to kiss him, tasting herself on his tongue and then whimper against his lips how she was on the pill.

Which is how Yunho ended up with her on top of him, his hands gripping her waist as y/n own splayed against the wall at the headboard of the bed, cunt so full of Yunho’s dick she was almost in tears. “Fuck… you’re so big…. so fucking full…”

Yunho needed to be deeper, he wanted to be buried so far inside her it was halfway driving him crazy. So he flipped her over, pinning her hands above her head, dick still buried inside her but so much deeper now.

“God…” he rested his forehead against her own, both damp with sweat. He’d wanted her like this for so long he was terrified it was a fever dream. She felt so much better than he imagined.

Yunho gripped her waist, sitting up and moving her, bringing her to meet him with every thrust. Y/N was a mess under him, her smaller hands gripping tightly at his wrists as his own grip he had on her waist tightened enough to probably leave a couple little bruises but she didn’t care, he was fucking her too good to even want to care.

Yunho was mesmerized, watching the entire length of his dick repeatedly disappear into her tight soaking walls, clenching him as y/n second orgasm was ready to pull her under, make her drown in it. He wanted to ruin her, make a complete mess of her, but even through his drunken state, Yunho assumed y/n wasn’t like that.

Y/N came again with his name leaving her like a mantra. Yunho leaned down burying his face into the crook of her neck as he chased after his own orgasm that hit him so hard he was whimpering, shuddering at finally being able to reach that release he couldn’t give himself earlier.

She would probably regret it, Yunho didn’t care. He’d go back to pretending to just be her friend. He’d act like it never happened, no matter how hard that was going to be.

He’d do whatever she wanted as long as it kept her in his life.

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San arched a brow at y/n as she tried sneaking into their apartment early in the morning. He gripped his cup of coffee, snorting in amusement when she bumped into the small table beside the coat closet. “Long night?”

Y/N bit her bottom lip, hangover hitting her hard, she was never a good drinker, much like San, a bit of a lightweight. “I slept with him.” She had woken up tangled up with Yunho in his bed, everything that happened between them rushing back and she snuck out, freaking out, because what if he regretted it?

“What?” San sat his coffee down on the coffee table, looking at his best friend like he was sure he hadn’t heard her right. “I slept with him!” Y/N repeated, exclaimed, as she walked towards her bedroom, San following behind her.

“You mean you slept together?” San surely was hearing her wrong. “Yea, I fucked him.” Y/N collapsed on her bed, staring up at her ceiling. What the hell would she say to Yunho when she saw him? She had a stream with him tonight. “That’s not just it….. I’ve kind of been, well, Juniper, has been sexting with him.”

San stood with his hands on his hips. “So you’ve been sexting him as Juniper and you fucked him as yourself?” He couldn’t believe the situation. “Ok Hanna Montana, you know he’s going to be pissed when he finds out the truth, right.”

It was a fact San was sure of. He’s known Yunho for a long time and there was no way he was going to be ok with y/n lying to him all this time, especially after sleeping with him.

Y/N closed her eyes, sighing, feeling a little guilty.

“I know.”

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permanent tag list: @straycat420 @autieofthevalley @dejatiny @hannahlilibet411 @xh01bri @jintastic-yuyu @maddycline @ultrapinkvoidbouquet @wooyoungsbrat @lucid-galaxys-world @ateezswonderland @therealcuppicake @aerangi @delulu4yuyu @hyuninslutbbgirl @fireseo @insanityz @kyeos4ng

[eviesaurusrex]

May I request any touch starved prompt between Bucky and reader? Thank you in advance!

summary: after a two week mission away from home and with barely any contact, Bucky craves touch and comfort from his girlfriend above anything else

word count: 1.4k

warnings: pure fluff, mentions of exhaustion, mentions of anxiety when you squint, so many pet names, touch-starved!Bucky, short mention of Bucky’s scars and his past insecurities

author’s note: my first (new) request in a while—I’m super excited ^-^ I really hope you like with what I came up with, dear anon! The dividers are made by @strangergraphics <3

Ever since she had gotten her brooding super soldier up to the new tech of this century and successfully explained how to share a location through Find me, YN always knew when he arrived back at the compound and had his personal phone back on him. It helped her breathe a little easier seeing his small icon—a picture she had taken of him during one of their many trips across the East Coast—move across the map again, promising her worry-drenched mind that he was all right and back in one piece.

So, it wasn’t surprising or unusual for YN to sit at home and wait for her boyfriend to return while the sun slowly set behind the windows of their quaint, cozy apartment in a historic brownstone. She threw a quick glance at the opened app on her phone and watched Bucky’s smiling face speed down the FDR Drive along the East River, and being content with knowing he’d be home in a matter of minutes, YN rose to check up on dinner, softly sizzling in the kitchen and boiling another pot of tea. They had their small rituals after each and every mission or a particular horrifying day at work, and she wanted to be prepared when Bucky finally got up the stairs, and she would hear the thud of his boots.

Giggling softly along the episode of Golden Girls that played on the TV in the background, she stirred the pasta in the pan, adding a sprinkle of pepper and a handful of basil leaves into the bubbling sauce when a pair of strong arms enveloped her waist from behind, making her shriek. For a second, she went entirely still, muscles locking and the bamboo spoon ready to be used as a weapon until her mind caught up. The sensation of those arms was utterly familiar, the scent surrounding her now loved beyond measure, and the warmth seeping into her back a constant reminder of who was finally back home.

“Sorry, doll,” Bucky whispered, his face immediately nuzzling the crook of her neck, his warm breath fanning across her sensitive skin. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” YN smiled at that, and after putting the spoon back onto the cutting board next to the stove, she turned in his arms and cupped his face, foreheads touching softly. “Hi,” she smiled up at him, both thumbs caressing his cheeks. The soldier let out a deep sigh, shoulders immediately relaxing, and the tension dissipating from his body. “Hi,” he mumbled in return, eyes bright but heavy-lidded from the exhaustion living inside him after two weeks away, kissing her lips softly in greeting. “Smells delicious, sweetheart.“ YN grinned at that, and her cheeks turned warm at the praise. “It’s almost ready if you’re hungry, love.”

Bucky’s eyes looked over her shoulder and observed the bubbling pasta sauce, the sizzling chicken, and decided his basic human needs had to wait for a while. She picked up on it when his hand turned off the stove and placed the lids on both pans before he gathered YN easily in his arms and walked them to the couch. He put her down gently, as if she was made out of glass and would easily break if not handled with the utmost love and care, and without having second thoughts, the buff super soldier and former Winter Soldier dropped between her parted legs stomach first, and resting his head heavily on her chest, right above her beating heart.

“I gather food has to wait?” YN smiled softly at the brunet in her arms, her fingers starting to comb through his soft strands she had cut for him in their bathroom a few months ago, scratching his scalp just the way he liked it, eliciting a moaning sigh out of him. “Just need you close, honey, s’all,” Bucky whispered into the fabric of her daisy-sprinkled shirt, and his eyes closed in utter contentment and blissful relaxation, soaking in how she made him feel every day since they ran into one another. “Whatever you want, James.” She would have an eye on the time and would feed him if she had to before they’d wander into bed, knowing the man on top of her well enough to suspect that he had lived on protein bars and oatmeal since the team’s departure to Mexico fifteen days ago.

Bucky hummed softly when YN started caressing his neck, slowly kneading the tension and strain out of his muscles there, nuzzling his face closer to her neck after pressing a kiss atop her beating heart. “I’ve missed you so much, sweetheart. Always dreamed of you and coming back home.” Her heart clenched in the best possible way at his whispered confession, at the showcase of his vulnerability, he only ever allowed to come out in her presence, knowing she would never judge him for it or think less of him. YN kissed his forehead lovingly with her eyes closed to revel in his soothing scent that was a mix of cedar, cinnamon, and orange—the three main ingredients of his favorite soap—and something that was just inherently Bucky, it made for something addictive.

He groaned at the feeling and, without missing a beat, nudged her chin with his nose, asking wordlessly for more forehead kisses she was willing to provide. “Missed you too, baby.” It was a whisper ghosting over his skin when she kissed his forehead yet again. “You’re okay, though, right? No injuries?” She had to ask to soothe her anxious mind, trying to let her hands run across his body to check for herself, but Bucky nodded heavy-headed and cuddled closer, wrapping his strong arms tightly around her body and holding her just as closely as she did.

“Not even a scratch, doll,” he reassured her once more. He littered her neck with several feather-light kisses, moaning softly and quietly at the overpowering scent of her fading perfume and the deodorant she had to have used over the course of the day, fogging his mind and pulling him deeper into the relaxing state he only ever could achieve right here within this very walls, in the very arms that held I’m close to the soft and perfect body of his best girl. He could ravage her right this instant, but his body and mind were too exhausted to muster the strength to bring her into their bed, and instead, he cuddled closer, almost trying to crawl into her embrace, into her body.

The soft whirring sound of his vibranium arm was the only sound next to the TV and their soft breathing, and he felt YN’s fingers at his left shoulder where metal met flesh. Once, he had thought he was ugly because of the raised and bumpy flesh that had never formed perfect, even scars, and it had taken a while until Bucky was okay with being shirtless around her, but now? He knew this woman loved him just the way he was—and that was okay. More than that. The scars were part of him, and he had accepted it, knowing that now, he fought for the good in this world. He fought for her. For their future together.

“Want me to help take it off, make yourself more comfortable, love?” Her fingers still lingered on the jarring cut between soft flesh and hard, unyielding vibranium she had grown used to over the time they had shared so far. She had grown to love the intricate scars, always reminding Bucky of his beauty whenever she kissed them one at a time, and even now she bent her head to press a lingering kiss to the mountains and valleys covered by the soft fabric of his black t-shirt. “s’all right, doll. Jus’ wanna stay right where I am if that’s okay with you.” The barely there request was muttered into the skin at her neck, and humming softly in agreement, YN let their legs entangle and pulled the plush blanket they had found at their favorite Target down a couple of blocks over their bodies wrapped around each other, sighing herself at the coziness of it all.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Bucky mumbled with his head now switching sides, and he soon was nuzzled back into the crook of her neck, arms tightening their hold around her as if he might fear she’d slip away. A silly thought, really. As if she would exchange this for anything in the world. Kissing the crown of his head, she smiled into the dark brown strands. “Nothing to thank me for, darling,” she whispered in return, and closing her eyes, YN started to caress his broad back, softly drawing indecipherable shapes and forms into the fabric of his shirt until Bucky’s breathing grew deeper and longer; a soft snoring filling the cozy living room.

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a like, a comment, and a reblog. It would mean the world to me <3

[stevie-petey]

episode seven: the massacre at hawkins lab

Steve coughs, swatting at the particles in the air. “Just inhaled a bunch of that crap.” “I’ve been trying not to think about how much of the Upside Down we’ve ingested since being here.” “It’s stuck in my throat, Y/N.” “Again, I’m trying not to think about that.

Summary: bats are really fucking annoying to fight, you always somehow end up critically injured, nancy carries the group on her back as always, eddie gives steve relationship advice (embarassing, tbh), interdimensional bike riding is lowkey fun, and you take a trip down memory lane.

Rating: general, some swearing, violence

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, cursing, blood and gore, critical injuries, mentions of fainting, mentions of death and violence, description of corpses

Words: 11.9k

Before you swing in: ive never been more excited to write a chapter tbh. this episode touches on so many things ive been building up for seasons now !!!! insane !!! im so so so excited to see how yall react. this chapter has my favorite sequence of scenes yet ;) enjoy !

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His name rips from your mouth. “Steve!” 

The bats sink their fangs into his stomach. His legs kick out, he gasps for breath, choking on his pain. Your legs threaten to give out as you stumble towards Steve. Quickly your fingers find the knives you always carry with you just as a bat lunges towards you.

Barely having time to dodge its quick attack, you swat at the creature, but your knives slide off its skin easily. Your heart drops; their flesh is too thick to cut through. The bat screeches at you, its teeth bared, and you throw your body weight against it onto the ground. Angling your knife, you pierce the inside of its mouth, killing it. 

“Shit!” Another bat crawls towards you. Your elbow scrapes the ground as you roll out of its path, slicing into the creature’s maw. 

Steve screams again, this time even louder as even more bats surround him. Frantic, you jump to your feet. Without thinking, you grab the tail of one of the bats, its face buried in Steve’s stomach. When you start to pull, Steve shakes his head violently and throws his arm out at you. “Go!”

You don’t bother answering; you’re not leaving him. 

The bat’s tail cuts your palms as you pry it off of Steve’s flesh, but as soon as it’s removed, it latches onto your upper thigh. “Fuck!”

Razor sharp pain shoots through your entire body. The bat loosens its jaw to only tighten it more; you can feel its teeth hit your bone. Screaming, the white-hot pain blinds you. Your knees give out and you fall before you can catch yourself.

“Y/N!” Steve chokes out, desperate. He clenches his jaw, tries to get up. More bats screech overhead, circling you, and Steve knows you only have seconds before you’re dead. But the vines around his neck constrict even more. His airway closes, another bat takes the other one’s place on his stomach. 

“Motherfucker!” You stab at the bat, but then a second one slams against your body and your shoulder explodes with pain. “Fuck-no,” you try to twist around, to use the last of your strength to remove it from your own skin, but it’s no use. The bats tear at your skin, ripping through muscle and ligaments. 

Lightning flashes, its light red mars the endless dark blue sky. Above you, a bat screeches, signaling its descent, before it dives towards you at full speed. Your eyes close, you hope death will be quick. 

“Get fucked!” Someone screams, a sickening thud following. Opening your eyes, you see the creature’s body get thrown into the air. Eddie stands above you, smiling wickedly, but as soon as he sees the two other bats gnawing on you, he brings his oar over his head and swings. 

You look away, scared he’ll miss, and see Nancy and Robin a few feet away. Nancy holds the other oar, working with Robin to kill the swarm of bats that encase Steve’s body. Seeing them makes you want to cry in sweet relief. 

The sound of the bats’ pained cries echo in your ears. It takes several attempts before Eddie manages to get them off of you. The bat’s teeth cut deeply with every attack, causing you to cry out in pain. It’s fucking agonizing. Warm blood follows a sickening tearing sensation in your leg.

When Eddie has killed both bats, he helps you stand up. “Jesus, you alright?”

“Talk later,” you grunt, already rushing to go help Nancy and Robin. “Fight now.”

Eddie doesn’t stop you. He swings his oar again and Robin begs you to help. She has a bat pinned down while Nancy pounds her oar into its face, but it won’t fucking die. Its tail has wrapped itself around Steve’s neck and he’s paler than you’ve ever seen him. 

But before you can gut the piece of shit creature, another bat pounces on Nancy. Its claws tear her skin and she yelps. You scream her name and catch her before she falls. “I got you.”

Nancy’s hands clutch your body as you stab the bat. “Get it off me!”

“I’m trying!” The bat won’t let go, screeching with every pull. Biting down, you ignore the searing pain as your palms get cut up even more. Robin tries to help, but you scream at her. “No! Help Steve!”

She nods quickly and it’s a mess of fighting and screeches and blood. Steve bites down on the bat’s tail, its jaw opens as it squeals, giving him just enough time to escape. As he rolls to the side, Robin throws the bat’s body onto the ground. 

Seeing Steve safe reinvigorates you, and with one final scream, you use everything within you to pull the bat off of Nancy’s back. It releases her skin with a squelching pop. You force your knife down its throat and pin the creature to the ground. It writhes beneath you. “Now, Nancy!”

She doesn’t hesitate. “Go to hell!” Her oar slams down, killing it.

Behind you Eddie kills the remaining few bats that circle overhead. Steve stands next to you, slamming the final bat into the ground. The body lands with a loud smack against the concrete and Steve rips the carcass in half. 

Blood drips from his mouth and he messily spits it away. He’s panting, his stomach is on fire, he’s stuck in some alternate dimension with no way out, but all he can focus on is you. 

Flesh hangs from your shoulder, leaving behind a gaping wound of exposed muscle. Your thigh is torn clean through. There’s blood everywhere. The white of your tanktop is now soaked in red. But you’re here, you’re alive. He hasn’t lost you. Not yet, at least.

“Y/N–” Steve practically falls against you, and you’re no better yourself. You’re crying, snot runs down your face as you grab desperately at him. His hands are all over you as he tries to stop the bleeding, but there’s so much blood. 

“I-I’m here.” Your hands are all over Steve’s body, too. They cup his waist, there are so many bite marks on him, but at least his flesh is warm under your skin. He’s still here, he’s still yours, and now all you want to do is calm him down. Steve is panicking, holding you as if he’s afraid you’ll die in his arms any second, and the fear on his face makes your chest ache. 

“Are you guys okay?” Nancy asks, tentatively touching your shoulder. A wince slips from her lips when she sees the flesh that is no longer there. “Jesus, Y/N.”

Steve wraps his hands around your thigh, it’s bleeding the most and you can barely put any weight on it. “I’m fine, but they took a fucking pound of flesh from her.”

“You’re no better,” you’ve placed your own hands over his stomach, his blood warm against your fingers. “I think you lost your appendix.”

Steve laughs, but almost immediately his laugh turns into a groan. “God, don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”

You apologize, kissing his shoulder. Light catches your attention and you see Robin crouched down next to one of the bat carcasses. She looks up at everyone. “Uh, do you guys think these bats have, like, rabies?”

“Robin, if we have rabies, please promise me you’ll shoot me.” You tell her, dead serious. Rabies has always terrified you. When you were younger, a rabid fox made its way onto your grandparents' farm. It had killed all the chickens, attacked the herding dog they had, and you remember how distraught your father had been when he had to kill both the fox and the hound. 

“I’m sure you and Steve don’t have rabies.” Nancy says, sensing your growing fear. But before she can say anything else a small group of bats descend from the sky.

Steve pushes you behind him. They land near the gate you fell through, screeching at the five of you. They’re a small enough group, Steve voices what you’re all thinking: you can handle them. Flicking your knives out, you prepare for what’s about to come. 

Until a swarm grows larger in the distance. There’s easily hundreds of them, they cast a shadow below where they fly. There’s too many to fight. 

“You were saying?” Robin breathes out, eyes never leaving the sky.

Steve is speechless, he doesn’t know what to do. His hand tightens around you, protective, but thankfully Nancy has a plan. She tells everyone to run towards the woods and none of you hesitate to follow. Steve swings your legs over his arms, picking you up with ease despite the bite wounds that litter his skin. Like hell he’s letting you run right now; you’re too torn up, you can hardly even walk. 

As Steve runs with you in his arms, he’s careful to avoid the vines that creep over the ground. It’s a dizzying rush. All you can do is hold tightly onto him, trusting that Nancy knows where she’s taking you. 

Deep into the woods, Nancy calls over her shoulder, “Over here!”

Lifting your head from Steve’s chest, you realize, as you always do, that Nancy Wheeler is a goddamn genius. She’s taken you all to Skull Rock.

The giant boulders form a small alcove, just big enough to hide under as the bats fly overhead. She instructs everyone to crawl under and Steve sets you down gently, positioning you so that you’re sitting with your back against the rock. As soon as you’re secure, Steve’s hand goes back to your thigh.

The sound of the bats is almost deafening. No one dares to speak. They fly over at such a gruesome speed, their screeches echoing off the trees. You lose count of how many there are. All you can do is wait for the last of them to leave.

More lightning strikes above. It shakes the ground, the sound reverberates in your skull. You can’t believe you’re here. You’re in the Upside Down. The place you’ve only ever spoken about, the entity that haunted your nightmares and took the ones you loved from you.

It’s so much colder than you imagined it to be. Everything is darker, more twisted. The dimension is exactly as Will once described to you: this is Hawkins, it’s your home, but different. Colder, scarier. These woods are the woods you walked through, the woods where you fell in love, and yet the trees loom over you in a threatening way. Their branches form spikes, the dirt recoils against your feet. 

Nothing here feels warm. The darkness is never ending. 

This is where Will was, all by himself, for a week. 

He had only been twelve. 

When the nightmare swarm of bats is finally over, Robin carefully pokes her head out from the alcove. “Okay, that was close.”

Eddie agrees, kicking at a rock. Steve offers you his hand to stand, but the moment your skin touches his, you feel sick. All the adrenaline from earlier leaves you. All the blood you’ve lost catches up, leaving your body weak. Stumbling, your vision tunnels and your eyes roll back. 

“Woah, hey.” Steve breaks your fall, snapping his fingers in your face to bring your attention back to him. He’s weak as well, he has to lean heavily against the rock to steady himself. “Y/N-shit!”

“Steve?” Nancy turns around, finding you and him moments away from collapsing. She curses, rushing over. When she sees all the blood that still pours from your thigh, she gags. “Oh, fuck.”

“Keep… keep talking. Please.” Your breathing is labored, you can hardly form any words. “Keep talking to me. If-if I faint… embarrassing.”

“I think she’s losing it.” Eddie whispers rather loudly to Robin. 

Nancy grazes Steve’s chest, silently asking him to move your body aside. She wants to get a closer look at his wounds as well, she can’t help you if he’s bleeding out himself, but he refuses. “No, no we need to help Y/N.”

“Steve, you’re also losing blood–”

“I don’t care.” Steve pulls you even closer to his chest, he needs to feel your rib cage rising and falling. He needs to feel you breathe. “Help her, Nancy.”

His outburst startles Nancy. She takes a step back, alarmed, but clenches her jaw. There’s no getting through to Steve; she knows she’s lost the fight. “At least sit her down.”

Steve collapses, sliding back against the rock with you tucked to his chest. With shaking hands, he forces you to sit next to him. You wince with every movement, it’s getting harder and harder to stay awake.

“Stay with me, angel.” Steve murmurs to you, motioning to Nancy to look down at your thigh. The wound is bleeding the most, the teeth sunk in the deepest. 

“Don’t wanna faint,” your head sags to the side, exhausted. “So embarrassing.”

Nancy places her hands unsurely to your thigh. The blood squelches, soaking through your jeans. She exhales shakily. “You’re not-you’re not going to faint, okay? Just keep talking, Y/N.”

“Hate bats.” It’s the first thing that comes to mind, but it seems to settle Nancy’s unease and Steve’s worry. “Little fuckers hurt.”

Nancy tears the end of her shirt, her nimble fingers gently lift your injured leg. She ties the piece of fabric tight around your thigh, quelling the bleeding. Steve helps with the knot, though really he just needs something to do. 

“If you want some good news, I’m pretty sure wooziness is not a symptom of rabies.” Robin crouches next to you, smiling despite how terrified she is. “So that’s something, right?”

You yelp when Nancy tightens the tourniquet. Biting your tongue, you force a smile to Robin. “Hooray.”

“There,” Nancy wipes her hands of your blood. The tourniquet isn’t much, but already the bleeding has subsided. “But I think you’re going to need stitches.”

“I’m tired of hospitals,” you whine, but you’re already feeling a bit better. You’re weak, sure, but at least your body isn’t slowly draining itself out. “Thanks, though.”

Nancy nods, smiling softly, before her eyes land on Steve’s stomach. “Can I finally patch you up?”

Steve doesn’t even look at her, instead cups your face. Even though you’re covered in blood and sweat and tears, even though your cheek is scabbed and your lip is split, he doesn’t think he’s ever found you more beautiful. “You alright?”

“Been better,” you admit, squeezing his arm. “But let’s worry about you now.” Turning to Nancy, you extend your arm. “Got any more torn pieces of clothing?”

She bites her lip. The only thing covering your body is your tank top. She’s seen the cuts all over your palms. She doesn’t think you’ll be able to wrap the cloth around Steve, if she’s being honest. But she also knows Steve and how fiercely he loves you. He won’t let anyone near him but you. 

Finally, she sighs. Tearing off more of her shirt, she hands it to you. “Yeah, here.”

You thank Nancy again, and she gives you a curt nod before backing away, giving you and Steve some space. Once she’s gone, you tend to Steve’s injuries. When he moves his hand away and reveals raised, angry flesh, you inhale sharply. “Steve…”

“Just a flesh wound.” He jokes, but you can hear the pain in his voice. 

Though you’re still dizzy and weak, you manage to lift Steve’s body enough to wrap the makeshift bandage around him. Luckily he isn’t bleeding as badly as you are, but the sight of him injured still leaves you nauseous. 

Tying the fabric around his torso, you’re careful not to hurt him any more. The moment is familiar, reminiscent of the years before. Back in the junkyard when a Demodog nearly tore open your rib cage, Steve had been the one to take care of you. He had so carefully wrapped your cardigan around your chest, been so delicate with you, and now it’s your turn to do the same for him. 

“We always end up here, don’t we?” You say softly, it still takes a lot of energy for you to speak. You finish tying a knot to secure the bandage and Steve looks at you oddly. He doesn’t understand, and you shrug. “You and me, patching each other’s wounds up.”

Steve’s eyes soften. It doesn’t matter where he could be, in what situation he could be stuck in, you always somehow remind him of how loved he is. “Kinda wish the bats had eaten my ribs instead. We could’ve had matching scars.”

You laugh, eyes shining with tears. Fresh pain explodes all over your body, but you laugh anyways. You don’t know why you’re laughing or why tears run down your face. The exhaustion and pain from today must finally be catching up to you. “How romantic.”

Steve laughs as well, the pain of it bearable when he hears your laughter mixing with his. “I love you, angel.”

“I love you, too, honey.” It’s so cold in the Upside Down, but the warmth of Steve’s love feels like sunshine kissing your skin. 

Robin clears her throat. “Uh, not to ruin this cute moment, but I just wanted to say that if either of you start feeling aggressive, please let me know. Because, ya know. The threat of rabies still.”

“I kinda wanna punch you.” Steve looks at her pointedly, annoyed. 

You poke his cheek and smile apologetically at Robin. “He didn’t mean that.”

“Sense of humor is still intact, that’s a good sign!” She cheers, then, as an afterthought, she takes off her flannel and hands it to you. “Also, figured you’d want this. Not that you aren’t totally hot right now in only a tiny tank top and blood all over you, it’s just freakishly cold down here and you technically have an exposed wound on your shoulder and who knows what sorts of awful flesh eating diseases there are here.” 

You accept the flannel gratefully and thank her. Then, together, you and Steve stand up. The process is difficult, you only have one functional top and bottom, and you walk in a slow manner together as you lean against the other. 

Up ahead, Eddie is standing on one of the boulders, staring out into the vast dimension. “So, uh. This place is like Hawkins, but with monsters and nasty shit?”

“Basically.” You respond, grunting as you support Steve’s upper body. 

Eddie nods, defeated, and before he can step down, Nancy tells him to be careful of the vines. “It’s all a hive mind.”

When Eddie doesn’t understand, Steve tries to explain it to him. “All the creepy crawlies here, dude. They’re like, one or something.”

“They’re all interconnected. They can feel each other’s pain, feelings, whatever.” You say, remembering how Jonathan had described Will’s agonizing screams when the vines had been burned in the tunnels.

“Step on a vine, you’re stepping on a bat, you’re stepping on Vecna.” Steve finishes grimly. 

Eddie smiles sarcastically, obviously displeased with this information, but he’s careful not to step on any vines on his way down. 

“But everything from our world is still here, right? Except people?” Robin asks.

You nod. “According to Will, yeah.”

This pleases Robin, and she starts explaining her plan. If everything's the same in the Upside Down, then you should be able to use the guns stored away at Hawkins’ police station. With the ammunition stored there, it’d be more than enough to kill the bats that guard the gate back to Hawkins. 

“I highly doubt the Hawkins PD has grenades, Robin.” Steve says skeptically. “But guns? Sure.”

You shake your head. While Robin’s idea is good, there’s still the issue of going all the way downtown from Skull Rock. The five of you barely made it half a mile without getting killed. There’s no way you’d survive three. “But the police station is downtown. That’s too far from here.”

Robin deflates, but Nancy furrows her brows. After thinking for a moment, her eyes light up. “We don’t have to go all the way downtown. I have guns. In my bedroom.”

God you love her.

Eddie scoffs in disbelief. “You, Nancy Wheeler, have guns… plural? In your bedroom?”

“Full of surprises, isn’t she?” Robin says with pride.

“And this is why we always listen to her.” You sing along, high fiving Robin. 

Nancy doesn’t acknowledge you or Robin, but her cheeks flush with slight embarrassment. “A Russian Makarov and a revolver.”

“Yeah, you almost shot me with that one.” Steve reminds her, though his tone is gentle, almost teasing.

You laugh, remembering how terrified he had been when Nancy pointed the gun at him. You all had been so much younger, more naive. All he wanted to do was apologize to Jonathan for their fight earlier. Steve had just wanted to make things right, and that’s why you stepped in front of him that night. “Luckily for you, I was there to save your life.” 

Steve looks down at you fondly. He pulls you close, his eyes are full of so much love. He remembers everything. The night that started it all. “And then I saved yours.”

To think that a sprained ankle and a bat full of nails would lead you to here: Steve’s warm chest against you, so full of love.

Lost in your warm memories, neither you nor Steve see Eddie throwing his vest at Steve’s face until it’s too late. The material smacks against him, cruelly bringing the two of you back to reality. 

“What the fuck, Eddie?” You sneer at him, deeply annoyed. 

He waves at you flirtatiously, a devilish glint in his eyes. “I’m protecting your boyfriend’s modesty for you.”

Before you can retaliate, the ground beneath you starts to shake. The force of it is so sudden, so strong, that it sends you and everyone else falling. Steve catches himself on a rock, holding you tightly to his chest, and you manage to catch Nancy before she falls as well. Eddie grabs onto Robin, stuck on the ground together.

The tremors are violent. There’s a cracking sound, branches fall behind you as the earthquake destroys whatever it can. Steve holds you through it, he whispers reassurances to try and calm you. When it’s over everything is quiet for a moment, before a loud, heart stopping shriek cuts into the night.

It doesn’t sound like any creature you’ve faced before. Far too loud to be a Demodog’s, far too large to be a bat’s. The thought of what it could be almost paralyzes you; it could’ve been the Mind Flayer. 

“Guns seem like a pretty good idea to me.” Eddie finally says, panting. 

Robin quickly agrees, and you swallow down the bile that rises in your throat. “Yeah, okay. I can be okay with guns.”

“So what are we waiting for?” Steve puts Eddie’s vest on, twirling a flashlight in his hand. He nods to himself, tries to convince himself that he’s as confident as he sounds. He extends his other arm towards you, helping you steady your balance. “Let’s go.”

And you follow. 

– 

It’s a long walk from Skull Rock to Nancy’s house; it’s an even longer walk when you’re in the Upside Down, hiding from demonic bats. With every branch that snaps beneath someone’s foot, you all jump. The croak of whatever creature nearby sets everyone on edge. 

“Couldn’t we have tried a road or something just slightly less creepy?” Robin complains, jumping over a vine. 

Leaning against Steve, you groan. “Anything would be less creepy than this.”

“I think we’re getting close,” Nancy tries to sound convincing, but even she’s uneasy. “We’re almost out of here. Don’t worry.”

Robin nods at the reassurance, but you can’t help but wonder what could possibly come next after you find Nancy’s guns. It’d be two guns, two critically injured members of the group, two oars, and one switchblade against an army of bats.

Not the best odds. 

Nancy and Robin wander further ahead, leaving you behind with Steve and Eddie. None of you talk, more so because you’re putting all your energy into not falling on your face and Steve is busy helping you stay upright.

Walking is difficult and painful and you’re so frustrated by it all, especially after you trip over your fourth tree root. If it weren’t for Steve’s quick reflexes, you’d be long dead by now.

Eddie must recognize this, too.

“Here, let me just–” He comes next to you and throws your arm over his shoulders before either you or Steve can protest. Immediately the pressure on your injured leg lessens. You sigh in content, and Eddie smirks. “There ya go, princess.”

“Don’t call her that.” Steve snaps, but even he has to admit that Eddie’s help is needed. With him carrying half your weight, Steve is able to breathe a little easier. You’re better balanced this way. He’s no longer straining his injuries to support you. 

Eddie winces. “I’m sorry, just… trying to lighten the mood, I guess.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, but the silence stretches on and you feel bad for Eddie. He really is trying. Despite the fact that he’s Hawkins’ most wanted, he still tries to make everyone else laugh. He has to know that he’s never getting out of this alive, and you admire the strength it must take to continue laughing anyways. 

So you try to for him as well. “Thank you, by the way. You saved our lives back there.”

Eddie looks at you funny, he hadn’t expected you to acknowledge it. “Shit, Steve saved his own ass, man.”

“That’s true,” you laugh. By the time the fight finished, Steve had somehow managed to fight his way out by himself. “It was impressive.”

“No it wasn’t.” 

Eddie scoffs at Steve’s dismissal. “Please, that was a real Ozzy move you pulled back there.”

“Ozzy?” Steve looks at you, silently asking for some type of explanation, but you shrug. 

“All I know is that he’s in Black Sabbath.” Jonathan occasionally listened to the band whenever he was particularly angry, but not enough for you to understand Eddie’s obscure reference. 

Eddie makes a surprised, but pleased, sound. “Honestly surprised you even know Black Sabbath, but c’mon. Ozzy Osbourne, he bit a bat’s head off onstage. You seriously haven’t heard about that?”

You and Steve stare at him blankly, and he sighs. “Well, it was very metal. That’s what I’m trying to say.”

Steve scoffs again, but deep down you know he’s preening. It’s not everyday someone commends his strength or recognizes how well he can hold his own. Steve has come a long way since his first fight with Jonathan back at the alley. 

“I think I finally get why my brother likes you so much,” you tell Eddie, looking up at him curiously. “You know a lot of weird facts. He goes crazy for them.”

That, and you’re finding that Eddie isn’t so bad when he isn’t surrounded by his goonies. He’s actually… decent when he isn’t putting on a show for everyone. It’s almost reminiscent of how Steve had once been, back when he was the King. 

But if you ever pointed out that similarity to the boys, you know they’d be deeply offended. 

The corners of Eddie’s mouth tilt up. “Yeah, well. The kid adores you and practically worships Steve.”

“He does?” Steve almost sounds bashful at the idea of Dustin worshiping him. It makes your heart constrict. You both miss your brother terribly. 

Eddie nods. “Oh yeah, it’s kinda annoying, to be honest. Especially when all he talks about is Y/N. If he isn’t talking about you, he’s talking about her.”

“I doubt that’s true,” you shake your head. “He doesn’t need me anymore, he’s practically counting down the days until I leave.”

“Nah, man. Dustin tells me all the time how much he’ll miss you when you leave.” Eddie tells you, voice firm. “Kid always talks about how much you look out for him, that he doesn’t know what he’ll do when you’re gone. In a way, it’s annoyingly endearing. He frets over you just as much as you fret over him. I can see the Henderson charm in him that made you Hawkins’ sweetheart.” 

Everything that Eddie tells you leaves your throat sticky with tears. You didn’t know, you couldn’t know all Dustin said about you. For the longest time you thought he’d grown to hate you, to resent you the way kids often do with their family. You would’ve never blamed him; sometimes people just grow up, grow apart, but here Eddie is, telling you that your brother will miss you when you’re gone. 

Unable to say anything in fear that you’ll cry, the only response you give Eddie is a curt, short nod.

Steve rubs your side tenderly, understanding all you’re unable to say. Eddie feels the touch against his own side and he clears his throat. He knows you want him to change the subject. “Admittedly, I got a little jealous. Hearing the little shrimp talk about you as if you hung the goddamn stars yourself.” 

The irony of it all crashes upon you. While you had been jealous of Eddie, he had been jealous of you. The two of you spent months quarreling over Dustin, you’d been uncharacteristically mean to Eddie, and yet the entire time you envied the other. 

Abandonment can make people cruel. 

“I was jealous of you, too.” You finally reveal to Eddie, meeting his eyes for the first time tonight. 

Eddie stares back at you, his expression softens with understanding. He seems to have pieced together what you have: your anger had never been cruel, only defensive. Protective of your brother the way only a sister would in fear of losing him. 

“Guess that makes us both idiots, huh?” Eddie teases gently, accepting the offering of truce that you present to him. 

You laugh, looking away. The moment of truce is nice, pleasant almost, until the beat of silence becomes too unbearable for you. You’ve revealed enough of yourself tonight. Awkwardly clearing your throat, you lift your arm from Eddie’s shoulder and pull away. “Robin is probably missing me right now. She hates the dark, these woods are her worst nightmare.”

Steve catches your arm before you leave. You’re still unsteady on your feet, but he understands what you’re trying to do. He’s come to learn that you shut away when you’re vulnerable. While you wear your heart on your sleeve, Steve knows that it can be exhausting for you. 

“Need me to call her over?” He asks you quietly.

“No, I can manage.” You kiss Steve’s cheek, thanking him without having to say it. Eddie smiles at you as you leave, tight lipped, but kind nonetheless. 

The two teens watch you slowly make your way over to Robin, who happily welcomes your presence. She wraps her arms around you and holds you tightly, giggling slightly, before holding you close and helping you walk. 

“I’ll bring her back in one piece!” Robin calls to Steve, giggling under her breath. Steve waves his hand sarcastically, but doesn’t argue. Turning to you, Robin’s face shines in the blue moonlight. “You here to save me from this totally creepy, absolutely horrid woods?”

“Duh,” your laughter reflects hers. “I’m your knight in shining armor, babe.”

Robin squeezes your hand, resting her head against yours as you walk together. It’s been a long time since you’ve held each other like this. The realization makes you guilty. “How’ve you been holding up?”

Robin shrugs, the motion jostles your head, but you don’t mind. “We’re in the Upside Down, some guy named Vecna wants you and Max dead, and you refuse to admit that you’re scared.”

You bite your lip. Robin is just as worried for you as Steve is, she’s just hidden it better, and you wish that you could spare her the worry. She’s put up such a strong front for you. Between Steve, Dustin, Lucas, and Max, Robin knew you didn’t want yet another person coddling you.

So she stepped back, gave you the space you wanted, but you’re still her best friend. Robin won’t let you forget that.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper to her, holding onto her as tightly as she holds onto you. 

Robin shrugs again. “Nothing to forgive, pretty girl.”

And it’s as simple as that.

Though Steve can’t hear your conversation, he watches you and Robin fondly. The two of you sway together, laughing occasionally. Eddie notices the way Steve looks at you and laughs to himself. 

“You know, I was jealous of you, too.”

Steve raises his eyebrow. “What?”

“I was jealous of you and Henderson, the little one, I mean. Guess I couldn’t accept the fact that Steve Harrington was actually a good dude. I mean, rich parents, popular, chicks love him, not a douche? No way dude. That like, flies in the face of all laws in the universe and my own personal Munson doctrine.”

Then Eddie motions towards you. “And when you started dating Y/N? C’mon, man. Everyone knows Y/N Henderson is like, God’s gift to selflessness. I watched her tutor kids in the library like goddamn Gandhi, and suddenly she’s dating you? There isn’t any law in the universe to explain that. Fucking unfair.”

Though he knows he should be offended, Steve finds himself laughing. If he’s being honest, he’s relieved that someone else is questioning whether Steve deserves you. From the moment he met you, you’ve tried convincing him that he’s always deserved you. But Steve knows better, and he can’t believe it’s Eddie Munson who sees this, too. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I also don’t know why Y/N chose me.” Steve confesses, catching Eddie’s attention. “Honestly, I don’t think I ever would’ve been someone she even liked had we not been dragged into the Upside Down together. I was a douchebag. She hated me for years, but I guess saving her life a few times earned me some brownie points.” 

Eddie snorts. “Surprised you’re not claiming it was your ‘stunningly good looks’ that made Y/N fall for you. Oh how humble you’ve become.”

“Y/N changed me.” Steve’s eyes find your body again. They will always draw towards you no matter where you are.

The sincerity in Steve’s voice surprises Eddie. Licking his lips, he sighs. “Well whatever she did, I never would’ve jumped in that lake to save your ass, not under any normal circumstances.” A branch snaps, Steve and Eddie turn to its source, but there’s nothing there. Sighing again, Eddie continues to walk. “Outside of DnD, I’m no hero. I see danger and I just turn heel and run… at least, that’s what I’ve learned about myself this week.”

Steve doesn’t know where Eddie is going with this. “Hey, give yourself a break, man.”

Eddie points to you, Robin, and Nancy walking up ahead. “No, you see. The only reason I came in here was ‘cause those ladies came in straight after you. I was too ashamed to be the one who stayed behind. But Y/N? She dove in the second your head went under. Nearly tore Robin’s arm off trying to get to you.”

Something heavy settles in Steve’s chest. There’s a shift, there’s something that simmers deep into his rib cage. 

Eddie forces Steve to look at him. “I don’t know how you did it, but she loves you. The way she was screaming your name, it was an unambiguous sign of true love that these cynical eyes have ever seen. And if someone like Y/N Henderson loves you… then I figured you must be worth saving.”

Steve’s breath stutters. He looks up at you again, the warmth that cascades his veins whenever he sees you overwhelms him. Steve loves you more than anything. To be told how deeply you love him by someone else is almost too much. 

You and Steve have been fighting so much recently. He’s said awful things to you, you’ve hurt him in ways he hadn’t known he could hurt. All the unspoken words, all the uncertainty and fear, and yet you dove in to save Steve without hesitating. 

And isn’t that all that love is? To love without expectations, without hesitancy. Love is the inability to separate your breath from the person’s lungs; you took all the air out of Steve’s chest the moment you smiled at him. 

You’re the best goddamn thing that has ever happened to Steve. He’s always known this, he’s always known that what the two of you have is special. It’s something more than just young love. 

So what if the future you envision doesn’t align with Steve’s? How could something so small, so miniscule as compared to forever with you, be what Steve allows to drive you away? You deserve more than just his insecurities. You’ve already decided that Steve deserves your love, what more can he want from you?

He already has you; Steve won’t let you walk away from him. Not this time, not when what you have is rare and real and raw. 

Steve almost wants to laugh at how funny it is. He’d been so worried about losing you, that he almost lost you in the process. What’s even worse: it took a five minute conversation with fucking Eddie Munson to even realize it. 

“Y/N, she’s–” Steve begins, but the ground starts to shake again and he’s falling. Eddie curses, sick of these earthquakes, and Steve braces himself as the rumbling continues. 

Robin struggles to hold onto you as you cower together under the earth’s violent shaking. Instinctively your head turns toward Steve to make sure he’s okay. You find him on the ground next to Eddie. Sensing your eyes on him, Steve looks up and nods reassuringly at you. Relieved, you breathe against Robin. 

“Second on my list of least favorite things,” she says, voice shaking. “Earthquakes. Seriously, I’m unsteady enough as it is.”

“At least you have two working legs.” You quip.

Robin shushes you, but her voice raises when she sees Nancy stand and take off. “Nancy!”

Squinting at the darkness, you see the girl’s figure disappearing into the treeline. She’s running alarmingly fast, way too fast for anyone to catch up in time, and your heart lurches. None of you should be splitting up right now. It isn’t safe. “Fuck! Someone stop her!”

Robin quickly throws you onto your feet and you call after Steve and Eddie to follow. If running was difficult with a bleeding out leg, it’s almost impossible with the ground shaking beneath you. But if Nancy’s in trouble, you need to get to her as soon as you can. Leg be damned.

Breaking through the treeline, you find her standing at the edge of a clearing. There are fallen trees everywhere. Red lightning illuminates the Wheeler house before you. By some miracle, you’ve made it.

“Come on.” Nancy breaks the silence, chin held high. She isn’t giving up now, not when you’re all so close. 

She starts to walk, never looking back, and you look at Steve. He grabs your hand. You take a deep breath. You fucking hope Nancy’s plan works. 

This is your only chance of going home.

– 

The Wheeler house is exactly how you remember it, only vines and debris maims its usually pristine appearance. Nancy walks through the door first while Steve shines a flashlight. Particles float everywhere. You try not to think about the fact that you’re inhaling them.

Your foot catches on a stray vine, its tendrils flail angrily at you. Stomping your foot away, you look wearily at Nancy. “Love the decor.”

She rolls her eyes while Robin echoes you. “Might be time to get a maid, Wheeler.”

Ignoring the two of you, Nancy ushers everyone upstairs. While her voice is level, the unease in her body is apparent. She doesn’t like seeing her home this way. Sympathetic, you start to follow Nancy, but for a split second you think you hear Dustin’s voice.

It’s faint, mostly incoherent, and you think you’ve finally gone crazy. That’s it. Vecna has won, you’ve lost the remaining sanity you had left. 

But then Steve suddenly freezes next to you. His bewilderment tells you that he hears Dustin, too. That’s your brother. You’d know his nasally voice anywhere.

Sharing a look with Steve, you simultaneously begin running around the house, trying to follow the sound of Dustin’s voice. You remember Will telling you how he could hear Joyce’s cries for him while he’d been trapped in the Upside Down. It had been the only way Joyce could communicate with him. What if this is the same?

“Start screaming,” you command Steve, limping over to one of the walls. 

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s what Will did, he-he screamed for his mom and Joyce was able to hear him.” You press our mouth close to the wall and shout, “Dustin!” 

He has to hear you. You don’t know what you’ll do if he doesn’t.

Steve wastes no time following along, screaming Dustin’s name at the top of his lungs as well. You know the two of you must look like complete idiots, but you’re desperate.

“Dustin! Dustin Henderson you have five seconds to answer me!” You yell, throat burning.

“Hello? Answer us!” Steve stands in the center of the kitchen, crouched down as if getting ready to bolt. 

This is how Nancy, Robin, and Eddie find you. The three of them stare at you and Steve in concern, though none of them want to get any closer. Robin ducks her head down, whispers, “Maybe they really do have rabies.”

“What are you guys doing?” Nancy demands, fed up. 

“He’s here,” Steve whips his flashlight around, facing them. “Henderson. That little shit, he’s here. He’s like-he’s in the walls or something. Just listen.”

Dustin, predictably, is quiet the moment Steve tells everyone to listen. 

You pound on the wall. “Oh, now you’re quiet?” Everyone looks at you skeptically and you rub your face tiredly. “Look, I know this all sounds crazy, but I can hear Dustin, alright? It’s him.”

“Dustin!” Steve continues to screech, not helping your whole “we aren’t crazy” argument. 

Only Dustin’s voice returns, and thankfully Nancy and everyone else hears it. Together you all search the house, calling your brother’s name out. Yet now matter how loud you scream, he doesn’t respond.

“Alright, either this kid can’t hear us or he’s being a total douchebag.” Steve drops his flashlight.

You blow hair out of your face. “Normally he’s a douchebag, but not nearly to this extent.”

Nancy stands next to you. “But Will found a way to make Joyce listen.”

“When Joyce couldn’t hear him anymore, she used the Christmas lights.” You look at her. “Do you think…?”

She’s already running to the nearest lamp in the kitchen. Flicking the switch, nothing happens. You suggest trying a different light, though you know it won’t make a difference. When the lights remain unlit, you slam your palm against the table in frustration. 

“Guys?” Steve gets your attention. He’s shining his flashlight at the chandelier that hangs over the Wheeler’s dining table. “You seeing this?”

Where Steve points his flashlight, a warm, evanescent glow emits from the chandelier. You gasp at its beauty, you’ve never seen anything like it. Nancy steps towards the light and slowly puts her hand into the loose waves that flow between the lights. It’s encased in small orbs that float gently into the air. 

Nancy’s fingers dance in the light. A path of gold leaves a trail where her fingers have been. The particles in the light surround her hand, pulled in by her presence. Breathless, you reach out as well. The light kisses your hand, and the sensation is soft, almost ticklish. 

“This is insane,” you murmur in awe, face illuminated. You never thought you’d encounter beauty in such a place as the Upside Down. But at least Will found the beauty, too. “This must be how Will did it.”

Robin, Steve, and Eddie copy you and Nancy, putting their hands into the light as well. The five of you twirl your fingers around, causing the light to flicker with every movement. 

Steve’s pinky reaches for yours. “It… tickles?” 

“It kinda feels good.” Mumbles Robin, making figure 8’s with her finger. 

Nancy then lowers her hand and asks if anyone knows morse code. She mostly looks at you when you ask, and you bitterly tell her no. You’d think after everything you and the party have been through, you’d at least learn morse code by now. 

“Wait, does SOS count?” 

Eddie’s stupid question makes you hit his chest. “Of course it counts!”

“Ow!” He shoves you away from him, straightening his leather jacket. “A ‘yes” would’ve sufficed.”

Nancy shushes the two of you and instructs Eddie to start typing out the code. With a huff, he listens, and soon he begins the pattern for SOS. A soft buzz accompanies every flicker of the light. With each letter combination, you can practically feel Dustin getting closer and closer to you. 

It’s almost an indescribable feeling. Somewhere, in another universe, Dustin is standing right where you are. You aren’t sure how you know, maybe you’ll never be able to find the right words, but your brother’s presence settles over your own. 

This must be how Jonathan felt when Joyce was in the Upside Down. He whispered her name so softly when he followed her with the lights. Their love for one another tethered them; now it’s your love for Dustin that tethers him to you. 

“Dustin,” his name comes out whispered, relieved. He’s okay, you can feel that he’s safe. 

“Y/N?” Dustin’s muffled shouting fills everyone with relief. Steve and Eddie high five, Nancy lets out the breath she’d been holding, and Robin cheers while you hastily wipe your eyes. The SOS worked. “Is that-is that you?”

“Yes!” Steve screams into the chandelier, though you know your brother won’t be able to hear.

Anxious to get to Dustin as fast as you can, you shove your hands into the chandelier’s light and send a long, bright beam of light. More muffled screaming can be heard on the other side, only this time laughter accompanies it.

“Holy shit!” Dustin exclaims in awe. The amazement in his voice makes you miss him even more. There’s a murmur of other voices, you can only assume one of them is Lucas’, before Dustin shouts even louder, “We’re gonna find you a better light source. Don’t move.”

You roll your eyes. “Like we can go anywhere else.”

Dustin leaves again, but he’s back within minutes. Through loud screaming, he tells you to find Holly’s Lite Brite and go to Nancy’s room. Him and Lucas will meet the rest of you there. 

The moment Dustin leaves again, Nancy shoves everyone upstairs. “I’ll find the light pad, the rest of you go. Now.” 

And that’s how you find yourself restlessly staring at a child’s light up toy on Nancy Wheeler’s bed with Steve’s chest pressed against your back. He leans close to the toy, mumbling under his breath, “Come on, little Henderson.”

The Lite Brite suddenly comes to life. You throw your hands up triumphantly, giddy. “Yes!”

“You guys seeing this?” Dustin asks, to which Nancy responds by putting her hand into the light. Dustin squeals in excitement. This must be a scientific dream for him. “Okay, we’re not moving it, but we’re gonna unplug it. Stand by.”

The light fades away and Dustin prompts someone to spell something. Everyone turns to you. He’s your brother, you should be the one to make first contact. 

Carefully, you use your pointer finger to spell out D.U.S.T.

Eddie cocks his head. “‘Dust’?”

“He’ll understand.” 

When your mom first brought Dustin home from the hospital, he’d been so small. Immediately you fell in love with the small baby, but his size had confused you. You’d never seen anything so tiny before. 

“He’s small,” you informed your father, making a face at the yawning baby before you. “Like dust.”

You were only three, but you can still remember the way your dad had laughed. For years afterwards you never referred to Dustin by his actual name. He was only ever “Dust” to you. Your father joined, the nickname stuck, though your mother came to prefer “Dusty.”

It was only after your father left that you stopped calling your brother Dust. 

“Dust!” Dustin laughs excitedly. “I’m Dust! Yes!” He raises his voice louder, he can’t believe you remembered the old childhood nickname. “That worked, guys!”

Everyone cheers, Eddie even throws in his own enthusiastic “hi” to the Lite Brite. Your face aches from how hard you smile. Turning the toy over to Nancy, you nod at her. “All yours, Wheeler.”

Her eyebrows knit together as she thinks for a moment. There’s so much to tell Dustin and the others, but the Lite Brite is small and too many words to keep track of. “What should I write?”

“‘Help’ would be a pretty good place to start.” You suggest to her. 

Instead, Nancy ends up spelling “stuck”. Which is pretty fitting, all things considered. Gets the message across well. 

“You can’t get back through Watergate?”

Steve questions whatever the hell watergate is and Robin has to explain the wordplay. While she does so, pride swells deep within your chest. “Dustin’s a little genius that I love so much.”

“It was pretty clever.” Eddie admits. 

Nancy tells Dustin that the gate you all came through is guarded. However, never missing a beat, Dustin tells you that he thinks they have a theory that can help. “We think Watergate isn’t the only gate, that there’s one at every murder site.”

You jerk your head up, eyes widening. It all makes sense now. “Wait, I think he’s–”

“Does anyone have any idea what he’s talking about?” Nancy asks tiredly. Everyone gives her equally tired no’s, but you nod viciously.

“Yes! We already know there’s multiple gates, we just didn’t know how, but Dustin might’ve figured it out. It’s all connected to the murders.”

Nancy looks skeptical. “I don’t know…” Before you can argue with her, she sends a “?” back to Dustin. 

Who, predictably, doesn’t take it well. “Seriously? How many times do I have to be right on the money before you guys just trust me?”

Steve grimaces. “Jesus Christ. This kid’s gotta get his ego checked out.” 

“It’s his tone, right?” Eddie butts in.

You shove them both. “Shut up. Both of you. Dustin can be annoying and frustrating, but he’s right. He’s always been right. Now if you guys would actually listen, he’ll get us out of here.”

Looking pointedly at everyone, you start to explain. “There was a gate in Lover’s Lake, which we obviously found,” your arms wave behind you. “The same lake where Patrick died. Now, where else has a dead body been found?”

“Eddie’s trailer,” Nancy straightens, understanding where you’re going with this. Looking at Eddie, she asks him how far it is. 

“Seven miles.” 

Your head drops. “Why couldn’t you have lived closer?”

“I’m sorry I’m… poor?” Eddie looks at you incredulously. 

You flick a dismissive hand at him, but Robin cuts in between you two. “Nancy, I know your house here is, like, weirdly, creepily frozen in time and shit–”

“It’s what?” Obviously you missed some important details. 

Robin holds her hand up. “I’ll explain later. Anyways, haven’t you always had bikes?”

You and Nancy share a look, both thinking the same thing: the bikes would be perfect. That, and they’re kinda your only option at the moment. 

– 

Since you’re in no condition to bike (your thigh has only just stopped bleeding) and there’s only four bikes anyways, Steve has you wrap your arms around his chest and stand on his pegs. He claims it’s so that you can avoid putting any weight on your leg, but you honestly think he just wants you to hold him. Pressing your body close to his, you look around at the houses you pass.

In a strange, twisted way, it’s exhilarating biking through an Upside Down Hawkins. Everything, and yet nothing, is the same. The houses you pass are frozen in time, empty, ghostly. Robin, Nancy, and Eddie bike alongside you and Steve. The scene is almost reminiscent of the night you biked Will home, wind in your hair and the night sky before you. 

Everything has changed since then.

Somewhere along the route to Eddie’s, you bike past the Creel house. Your arms tighten instinctively around Steve. A chill runs through you, the house is just as haunting in the Upside Down as it is back in your universe. Your head throbs being so close to it, as if warning you, but Steve is turning into Eddie’s neighborhood before you can think much else of it. 

“That’s gotta be a Guinness World Record.” Robin throws her bike down, breathless. “Most miles traveled interdimensionally.”

Steve coughs, swatting at the particles in the air. “Just inhaled a bunch of that crap.”

“I’ve been trying not to think about how much of the Upside Down we’ve ingested since being here.”

“It’s stuck in my throat, Y/N.”

“Again, I’m trying not to think about that.”

Eddie opens his trailer door and, just as Dustin predicted, there’s a gate. It’s just like the one in Lover’s lake had been: illuminating red light, vines all around its edges. An open wound. 

“This is where Chrissy died.” Eddie stares up at the gate, which resides in the ceiling. He swallows heavily. “Like, right where she died.”

“I’m sorry.” Your hand finds Eddie’s arm. You don’t know much about what their relationship had been, but he seems to have cared about the girl a lot. 

Eddie gives you a tight lipped smile, his eyes shining slightly. As he looks at you, Robin sees something moving in the gate. “I think there’s something in there.”

Something starts to protrude from it, causing the gate to swell rapidly. The vines almost seem to snarl at the intrusion. An ominous, unsteady croak emits from the gate. The sound sets your nerves on edge and Steve shoves you behind him protectively. Hand on your knives, you raise them, bracing. 

The gate explodes, spewing liquid and vines everywhere. You all scream, jumping back, as something rips through the membrane-like material. Unable to tell what’s just happened, you squint up at the ceiling.

Nothing jumps out at you, no bats come to feast on your flesh. Finding Steve’s eye, you silently ask him if you should walk closer. Nodding, he grabs your hand, and together you creep towards the remains of the gate.

When you look up, you find Dustin’s smug, joyous face staring back at you. Only he’s upside down with Max, Lucas, and Erica, all just as in shock as you are.

You’ve never been more relieved to see them in your life. Dropping your hands to your knees, you bend over and finally breathe. “Oh, thank God.”

“No way…” Steve waves at them, and they wave right back. “Hi.”

“Dustin!” If your leg wasn’t hanging by a thread, you’d be jumping up and down right now. Instead, you opt for waving like a madman at your brother. The entire situation is so fucking bizarre, but you don’t even care anymore. “You did it!”

“I did it!” Dustin giggles. “Bada bada boom!”

After some heated discussions and a few arguments, Dustin and the others come up with a way to get the five of you out of the Upside Down. Using Eddie’s bed sheets as a makeshift rope had been the easy part. What caused nearly a fist fight between Max and Dustin had been figuring out a soft landing pad for you guys. 

“I, uh. Have a mattress?” Eddie finally suggested when he noticed Max’s fist clenching. 

She glared at him. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“Well, I mean. It’s-uh. Minor details?”

But none of them had time to question Eddie’s sudden shyness regarding his mattress. Dustin got straight to work tying the bed sheets together while Max and Lucas worked on dragging the mattress out of Eddie’s room. 

However, the moment it landed on the ground, all eyes went to the giant stains on the bed. Cringing in disgust, you eye Eddie.

Seeing your disapproving look, he swallows. “Those stains are, uh…” He tries to come up with an excuse, but eventually he realizes it’s better to just accept defeat. “I don’t know what those stains are.”

“Would we want to know even if you knew?” You ask him, already knowing the answer.

“... Probably not.”

Dustin tosses the bed sheet rope up, or rather down, through the gate. “Not quite sure how these physics are gonna work, but here goes nothing.”

Miraculously, it lands perfectly in front of you. Dustin tugs at the rope before letting go of it completely. You gasp. The rope stands on its own, stiff but secure, and Dustin lets out a pleased laugh. “Abracadabra.”

“I’ve never understood physics.” You say, pulling at the rope. It doesn’t move. “But even I can admit that this is cool.”

Dustin high fives Erica and Robin steps up first. “Guess I’m the guinea pig.”

“Please be careful.” You tell her, already dreading your own ascent. Your shoulder still aches and you were never the best at climbing the rope for gym. You preferred soccer, track, anything that involved leg coordination. Not upper body. 

Robin slowly climbs up, and when her body hits the disgusting mattress back in your dimension, you let out a breath of relief. “That was kinda fun,” Robin giggles slightly.

Then Eddie stares at you, Steve, and Nancy. He waits for someone to move, obviously not wanting to be next. But when no one does, he shakes his head. “Alright, I guess I’ll go.”

Steve holds the rope steady and Eddie falls onto his mattress safely. He sits up, exhilarated. “That was fun.” He echoes Robin. 

Steve gestures for Nancy to go next. “I’ll help Y/N up after you’re done.”

She gives him an uncertain look, eyeing your injuries, and you try to smile at her reassuringly. “Go, I’ll be fine. Promise.”

Knowing it’s as good of an answer she’ll get from you, Nancy takes a deep breath. “See you on the other side.”

You grab her waist and help hoist her up alongside Steve. She’s swift, her strength impresses you. She’s almost reached the top before you hear the first chime. 

It’s loud, deafening. The chime of a grandfather clock.

Another chime follows, then a third, a fourth. It wracks your skull with its force. 

You turn, gasping, expecting to find the grandfather clock that Max had seen in her vision. Only you’re met with darkness. You can’t see anything, you can’t find a way out. You can’t feel Steve next to you, your hands try to find his in the dark, but all they’re met with is air. 

“What–” Panic chokes you. None of this is right, you don’t know where you are, you don’t know what’s happening and you can’t feel Steve and–

The sensation of sunlight kissing your face stops you. 

Your eyes open. You’re no longer in Eddie’s trailer. 

You’re outside, there’s sunshine all around you. In front of you is a field of dandelions, their sweet yellow reflects the gold of the sun above. The grass beneath your feet is soft, lush and green. A bee flies past your head and someone calls your name.

You’ve been here before. In the distance resides a small house on a hill. The blue door and white frames of your childhood home welcomes you. You’re back in Virginia. Someone calls your name again.

The voice is familiar. 

It’s your father, calling you home. 

The realization knocks all the air out of your lungs. None of this is real. You know it isn’t real, but to hear your father’s voice, so sweet and saccharine again, it makes you weak. But it isn’t real. Your legs begin to move, you’re running before you can think of anything else. 

This is a vision. The scent of oak trees and strawberries isn’t real. The wheat that skims your thighs as you run doesn’t exist. “This is a vision,” you try to talk to yourself, your fingers dig into your pockets for your walkman. 

You know you’re supposed to always have it on you, that’s what Dustin told you, but there’s nothing there. Panic swells within your chest once more. “No, please–”

Distracted as you look for your walkman, you don’t see the body in front of you.

Colliding into your father, he steadies you. “Woah, there.”

His calloused hands are rough and familiar. He’s laughing, his voice is the same gruff voice that used to sing you to sleep. Your father looks down at you and your entire body freezes when your eyes meet his. 

You haven’t seen him ever since you were twelve. He looks the same as the day he left. His smile is the same, the crooked teeth charming. Your father’s nose still points up ever so slightly. The only indication that he’s aged are the wrinkles that line his face, years of sunlight etching them. 

But it’s his eyes that hurt you the most. They’re still kind. 

“What are ya runnin’ from, ladybug?” Your father asks you, his southern drawl liquid honey to your ears. 

Tears build within you hearing the childhood nickname. You were his ladybug for as long as you could remember. When he used to call, he’d whisper the name over the phone as an apology for everything he’d done to you. 

Because you can’t help it, because you’ll never be able to do this again, you hug your father. He lets out a soft chuckle at the impact, his arms hold you as they’ve always done. Your face buries itself into his rough t-shirt.

You’re a little girl who needs her daddy right now. 

“I.. I missed you, daddy.” Voice breaking, you begin to cry. 

Your father’s palm rests against your hand. He hums, soothing the ache in your bones. “You know you can never outrun it.”

The words unsettle you, there’s something about them that causes you to pull away. “Outrun what–?” “The guilt, ladybug. It will always find you.” Your father’s smile twists into a sickening grimace. The muscles in his face conjoin, his eyes darken as his voice becomes gravel. Deeper. Until it isn’t your father’s voice anymore, but someone else's. “I will always find you.”

Too late do you realize that it’s Vecna who now has you. You start to scream, thrashing in your father’s arms to escape, but he only grips you harder. He’s laughing, but it’s no longer your father’s laughter. 

Suddenly you’re thrown into the lake behind you. You fall, screaming, as you descend deep into a pitch black void. Your arms reach out, you try to find anything to grab onto, but there’s nothing. It’s just endless emptiness. 

You land harshly on your back, all the air gone. You gasp, choke on whatever air remains in your body. The impact leaves you coughing, clawing at the ground beneath you to breathe. Soil scrapes under your nails, your palm gets cut on a root.

You’re in the woods. 

Scrambling to sit up, you realize you’re in the same part of the woods that Will went missing in. Fear cuts through your veins. Why would Vecna take you here?

“Will?” You’re on your feet now, cupping your hands over your mouth as you shout his name. Does Vecna have him? Have you lost him again? “Will!”

“He needed you that night.” Vecna’s voice taunts you, the sound like rocks grinding together. “Where were you?”

You’re running now. Branches cut your face as you break through them. You have to find Will. You can’t lose him again. You can’t do that to Jonathan, to Joyce and El and Dustin and Mike and everyone else. You’re the one who lost Will that night.

He had needed you. Isn’t that what Vecna said?

“Nancy!” Sobbing, you call for someone, anyone. But no one answers. Your vision blurs with tears, there’s someone running behind you. Chasing you. Terrified, you scream for the person you need the most. “Steve!”

Saying his name must trigger something, because suddenly the scene changes. You’re no longer in the woods. You’re on the ledge of someone’s roof, overlooking a window sill. A large, bay window that you’ve spent countless slow mornings residing on. 

Steve’s house. 

He’s standing in front of his bed, facing the window, facing you, but he doesn’t look at you. Not how he always does; his gaze lacks warmth. 

“Steve!” You pound on the glass, you try desperately to get him to acknowledge you, but he doesn’t. His eyes are on Nancy, who sits on the bed before him. He leans down, brushes her hair out of her face, before bridging the distance between them.

You watch as Steve kisses Nancy. He cups her chin the way he cups yours. Bile rises in your throat; you can’t turn away. Their kisses become heated, Steve is tugging at Nancy’s hair and her clothes. She tugs at him as well, he helps her remove his shirt.

Nancy’s lips trace the expanse of Steve’s neck and his eyes, once closed in bliss, now open. He looks right at you. 

“Did you really think I’d forget her, Y/N?” His voice digs into your ears. Nancy nips at his neck and he moans. He throws his head back, looks at you again. “I can’t. At least, not as easily as your dad forgot you.”

You stumble back, crying so hard you can barely breathe. Steve laughs seeing your heartbroken reaction. It’s cruel and awful. He’s cold. You’ve never known his voice to hold so much malice. Not towards you. Not towards anyone. 

He’s wrong. Steve doesn’t love Nancy, not anymore. Vecna is the one saying this, you know it isn’t Steve. He would never say any of this to you, he could never be so cruel to you. He loves you. You know he does. 

“N-no! This isn’t-this isn’t real–”

But the hatred in Steve’s eyes causes your foot to catch on the edge of the roof. You don’t have time to catch yourself; your body is weightless again, only this time it’s a much shorter fall. You land on concrete. Ripping your eyes open, there are domed walls around you. 

Nancy stands above you. 

Hyperventilating, you crawl away from her. You’re in Steve’s pool, only it’s empty, infested with vines, and your fingers stain the ground with blood. Everything in your body is screaming at you to run.

“Y/N–” Nancy tries to stop you, but you scream at her, kicking. She only barely avoids your fury. Holding her hands up, she lowers her voice, softens it. She’s crying, her terror the same as yours. “Y/N, it’s me, okay?”

Your body trembles with exhaustion. You close your eyes, tired of fighting. “Please be real.”

“I’m real.” Nancy swears to you, carefully reaching for you. When you allow her touch, she helps you stand up. 

The memory of her having sex with Steve is burned into your mind. You can’t look Nancy in the eye. She breathes heavily next to, looking around for a way out, when she sees something. A strangled cry leaves Nancy’s lips.

Barbara Holland’s corpse sits on the other side of the pool.

You cover your mouth with a gasp, choking slightly at the sight. Nancy cries out in pain, in grief, seeing her best friend’s body dismembered by vines. You stumble towards Nancy and hold her as she sobs. 

“Do you remember what you did, Nancy? Or have you already forgotten?” Vecna’s voice shakes the pool. “Don’t worry, I showed Y/N. When I kill someone… I never forget.”

A sob collapses in your chest. Barb’s death hadn’t been Nancy’s fault. Yet to place her in the same pool Barb was killed in, to show Nancy her corpse, is unrelenting cruelty. 

All around you, blood pours from the vents of the pool. It comes out quick, thick, at a dizzying speed. Nancy tugs at your hand and practically throws you up the ladder to escape. But when you reach the top, you’re met with a red hell.

It’s exactly how Max drew it.

Fragments of stairs, jagged pieces of wood, a grandfather clock, they all drift through the air painted with blood-red. Somewhere there’s screaming, the sound only drowned out by lightning. A clock ticks over and over again. Its metronome is maddening.

Nancy holds your hand and neither one of you lets go. Having nowhere else to go, you’re forced to walk down the stairs you arrived at. The clock chimes again and your heart stops.

“I see you’ve been looking for me, Nancy. And Y/N…” Vecna pauses, preying on you. “I’ve been watching you for quite some time.”

Everything stops.

“All the guilt, all the pain.” 

It comes to you in flashes. 

How Will used to smile at you, before his childhood was taken from him. Max’s blue eyes, shining with youth and happiness, before grief killed her. Billy, how he would be kind to your mother at the pool. Hopper, the way you’d bicker with him just to get him to smile.

It’s all gone because of you; you can’t remember how to breathe. 

Vecna feeds on your fear. “How fragile you’ve become… like a dandelion.” 

The wording, it’s too specific to not mean anything. Dandelions were once one of your favorite flowers. Before a nightmare from last summer changed everything. The dandelions had filled your mouth with razors and choked you. Someone called your name in the distance, they’d been too late to save you.

The dream had felt so real. You’d woken up with tears in your eyes.

And now you know it had been Vecna all along. Even back then. He’s been watching you for far longer than you realized. The realization chokes you, the fear overwhelms you. He’s been here all along.

Nancy yanks at your arm, you can barely hear her over the roaring in your head. “Y/N, listen to my voice.” 

She’s shaking you, trying to bring you back to her, but you’re lost. Hyperventilating, you struggle to catch your breath. You feel too vulnerable. Raw. Exposed. There are corpses strung up by vines in front of you. Fred’s broken jaw. Chrissy’s snapped neck. Patrick’s empty eye sockets. 

The same will happen to you. 

You’ve spent so long trying to be strong, trying to keep everyone safe. You’ve devoted your entire life to protecting others, helping them. But Vecna has been watching you for almost an entire year, maybe even longer, and you hadn’t noticed.

It’s why he’s targeted Max. He watched you take care of everyone you loved. Vecna watched you raise the girl. He knew it’d hurt you the most to lose her. It hadn’t been a coincidence. It’s all your fault. It’s always your fault. Will went missing because of you. Billy died because you hadn’t said anything. Max will die because you hadn’t seen the signs sooner. 

Nancy’s screams fall deaf on your ears. She shakes you, begs you to come back, but why should you?

This is all your fault. 

It’s always your fault. 

It’s always your fault. It’s always your fault. It’s always your fault. It’s always–

You feel your body lift. 

Everything fades to black.

-

⌑ series masterlist

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[httpvomitello]

Hii💗how are you?

Usually there's only joel miller x child!reader on tumblr when it comes to non-romantic fics, so I was thinking of something with tommy (I already liked his character in the games but now that he's gabriel luna I love him more than ever), and I came with a request on my mind: Can you write something where Tommy has toddler daughter reader before outbreak and how it would've been the outbreak morning and night on the first episode if tommy had a kid himself, a baby depending on him?

Ooh, i really like that one. And i hope you like too ~ ♡

(btw i'm also taking requests for the last of us now!)

When the Sky Fell Quiet .｡*･ﾟﾟ

Summary: Tommy Miller wasn’t supposed to be a single dad. But one mistake and a miracle later, he had a daughter. You. And nothing else in the world mattered. On September 26th, 2003, everything changes. But he still has one job: keep you safe. No matter what it takes.

tommy miller & daughter!reader

WARNINGS: Angst, panic and chaos, parent/child trauma, minor language, character death, bittersweet ending.

Morning — September 26, 2003

The morning started like most others.

You woke up in your tiny toddler bed—an old crib frame with the bars removed and cartoon sheets from a garage sale. You were rubbing your eyes, thumb stuck in your mouth, curls wild and messy.

Tommy was already in the kitchen, pouring burnt coffee into a mug that said #1 Dad, a Father’s Day gift you didn’t even remember giving him (you were still learning how to talk, after all). He was in his usual half-buttoned flannel and jeans with drywall dust on the knees.

“Bout time you woke up, sunshine,” he called softly as you padded down the hall in fuzzy socks.

You grunted.

He laughed. “That’s my girl.”

He picked you up and kissed your cheek, tickling your side until you squealed and kicked.

“Don’t tickle Daddy,” you warned with mock seriousness.

“Oh, is that so?” he teased. “Who makes the rules in this house?”

You leaned in close, finger to your lips. “Shh. Me.”

Tommy barked a laugh and kissed your forehead again. “Hell, I believe it.”

He dropped you off at the little daycare by the fire station—one of those rundown places where the toys were cracked and the paint peeled, but the teachers loved the kids like their own.

You didn’t cry when he left anymore. Not since last spring.

He looked back twice from his truck just to make sure you weren’t upset.

You weren’t.

You were waving.

And smiling.

Around 3:00 p.m., the sirens started.

At first, Tommy ignored them. Helicopters flying low over the suburbs, firetrucks screaming in all directions. One of the guys on site said something about the news—riots, maybe? People going crazy?

By 5:00 p.m., Tommy was already on edge.

He tried calling Joel. No answer.

Tried calling the daycare. Busy.

By 5:30, he broke every speed law in Austin trying to reach you.

When he burst through the front door of the daycare, the place was in chaos.

Children crying. Staff on their phones. A teacher holding the door shut while pounding echoed from the other side.

He saw you sitting on the floor, little backpack clutched to your chest like a lifeline.

Your eyes were wide, your cheeks flushed.

“Daddy!” you cried.

He ran to you, scooped you up in his arms, and didn’t let go.

“I got you, baby girl,” he whispered against your hair. “I got you.”

Back home, things were worse.

News reports said the virus was spreading. Airborne, waterborne—they didn’t know. Tommy shut every window, every vent. He grabbed the emergency bag Joel made for him after the Y2K scare. Loaded the pistol he hadn’t touched in two years.

He held you the whole time.

You weren’t asking questions—you didn’t need to. You knew something was wrong. You didn’t want your juice or your bedtime book. You just held his shirt and didn’t let go.

When night fell, the neighborhood lit up with fire and screams.

Joel called. Finally.

“Get ready to run,” he said. “I’m coming.”

When you arrived at your uncle's house, everything seemed to be happening too quickly.

Sarah cried when she saw you. She hugged you tight. You used to call her "Sasa" when you could barely speak.

You sat in the middle seat of the truck, clinging to Sarah's hand while your dad drove and she asked what was happening.

Neither of them had answers.

Helicopters crashed in the distance. Streets were blocked. People ran in the dark. Fires rose behind them.

Tommy wouldn’t let you go.

You didn’t understand it.

But you knew something was breaking.

Tommy ran, carrying you the whole time, trying to get to his brother and niece.

When the soldier pointed the gun, when Joel screamed for him to stop, when Sarah hit the ground—

You screamed too.

He couldn’t feel his legs. His throat was raw from yelling.

But you were warm and alive in his arms, and that was all that mattered.

Joel held Sarah’s body.

Tommy sat by the ditch, cradling you. You were shaking. He held your head to his chest and rocked you gently, even as the world around you burned.

You didn’t sleep.

He didn’t either.

Your hands clutched the collar of his shirt like you were afraid he’d disappear.

“I got you, baby girl,” he whispered again and again, like a prayer. “Daddy’s here. I got you.”

And even when the world ended, you believed him.

Because his arms never let go.