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rebeccccccaaa · 8 days

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Poker Face!

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Spencer Reid x Reader

:: It’s game night at Rossi’s, a little pasta al dente, poker chips from Emily’s place, and a little too much Italian red wine. Poker after hours becomes a new playing field when you and Spencer decide to finish your game of blackjack back in his place. ::

:: warnings :: smuttt! and super mushy gushy fluff, sex under the influence (both parties drank alcohol), strip poker (kinda you’re playing blackjack), afab!reader, no mention of contraceptives oops...

:: authors’ notes :: i didn’t realize until i finished the story that spencer probably has his own poker set, he’s literally from vegas; anyway thanks for all the love on my last fic too sweet, hope you guys enjoy this one just as much <3

WC~ 3.1 k

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“Ok, ok! That’s enough!” Emily shouted, swinging her glass around.

“Careful, Prentiss. This carpet is fine Italian wool. Gifted from my first mother-in-law,” Rossi scolded, Hotch chuckling beside him.

“You guys are relentless,” she continued.

“I can beat him, I know it!” you shouted, your eyes comically wide.

“No shot, sweetheart. Reid is literally banned from every casino in Vegas, you think you can really beat him?” Derek commented.

“I may not be banned from Vegas casinos, but I never lose Blackjack,” you argued.

“Honey, you’ve lost eight games in a row!” JJ shouted, laughing and holding her stomach.

“Nevermind that! I’m gonna beat you Reid, if it's the last thing I do,” you narrowed your eyes playfully at Spencer, who sat as dealer with a giant grin on his face.

“I hate to interrupt this incredibly captivating game of Blackjack, but I’m kicking you out. It's late and an old man’s got to get some rest,” Rossi interrupted, erupting a series of ‘Boo’s’ and groans.

“Come on, come on. Call your DD’s, call your taxi cabs. Or if you want to stay, you can start washing the dishes,” he bargained.

Suddenly, all at once, everyone stood up practically scrambling and giggling like kids to avoid cleaning up. Penelope, Emily, and Derek hopped into a cab and Hotch drove JJ home then himself considering he hadn't anything to drink that night. That left you and Spencer, lingering on the sidewalk nudging each other in a fit of giggles.

“I assume you’re gonna take a cab?” he asked you.

“That’s the plan.”

“So we can share since I don’t live far from you. I’ll walk from your place,” he suggested.

“Oh no, no. Look what I snatched when everyone started leaving,” you pulled out the briefcase of poker chips that Emily had brought for that night out of your tote, “We’re going to your place and finishing what we started.”

“Oh boy, you have no idea how long it's gonna take. We’re gonna be up all night!” Spencer laughed, and you gasped.

“You’re an asshole,” you shoved him, before calling a taxi.

You squeezed in the back of the cab, legs bumping against each other. You felt your skin light up, you’ve always felt a certain way about Spencer. I mean who wouldn’t? Well actually, not a lot of people. You always tried to hide the pangs of jealousy or your faces of reluctance whenever the women you were working with or interviewed on cases would flirt with him, unnecessarily albeit. This happened more often than you care to admit or notice.

You walked into Spencer’s apartment, tossing your bag on the couch before falling to your knees and putting the briefcase on his coffee table. You opened it up and began shuffling the cards, quite intensely to make sure Spencer wasn’t going to cheat. You knew he wasn’t, his brain was too smart, but you did it for confidence instead.

“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked from the kitchen.

“Whatcha you got?” you asked.

“I’ve got a couple of beers, probably a little old. Oh, I still have the bottle of wine that Rossi gave to us for the new year,” he told you.

“Oh! Bring the wine! We’ll drink the beers later,” you winked at him, “Let’s get the fucking party started.”

It was late into the night now. You lost count how many times you’d lost to Spencer already. Just a couple of hours passed, and the wine was almost finished. You and Spencer couldn’t stop laughing and wiggling around. As Spencer shuffled the deck, a request you made him do after every turn, you came up with a devilish idea. One that would definitely get you in trouble should the outcome be anything other than what you would hope.

“Ooh,” you cooed, mischievously.

“What?” Spencer questioned.

“Oh, nothing, just had an idea,” you were smirking, or rather trying really hard not to burst into laughter.

“This can’t be good,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

“Why don’t we spice things up, shall we?”

“No, no way,” Spencer already knew what you were going to say.

“Strip Poker!”

“No!” he shouted, a big smile on his face contradicting his words.

“What, you scared? Scared that suddenly I’m starting to beat you and you’re gonna have to take all your clothes off?” you teased.

“No, I am a gentleman and I’m not gonna sit through watching you take all your clothes to prove a point,” he argued sassily.

“You are way too confident for your own good, Dr. Spencer Reid. You’re just chicken.”

“Ok, fine then. You dealer, or am I?” he asked, pouring the last bit of wine into your cup.

“Why don’t you hit me this time,” you said.

“You got it,” he responded, “Care to shuffle while I grab the beers?”

“Of course. About time we crack those open,” you smiled widely.

Now sitting down, face to face. Staring intensely at each other for a moment, hints of mischief and amusement in both your eyes. As you shuffled the cards well, Spencer couldn’t help notice the way your eyes were practically sparkling in the warm light of his apartment. How soft your skin looked in the light too. He doesn’t know when it happened. If it happened just now, or maybe he’s always felt this way about you.

Maybe it was those times where he felt a little more protective over you than the others on more brutal cases. The feeling of responsibility for you, to guide you, when you first join the team since you were the same age. Or maybe it was when you let him practically talk your ear off about peculiar facts regarding the case you had wrapped up. The small smile of your face knowing he thrived in these moments. The sweet giggle you let out when Morgan and Prentiss groaned knowing he would begin yet another tangent.

Yeah, it was definitely then he realized how special you were and how much he wanted to keep you in his life; in more ways than one.

But in this moment, when you handed him the cards with the most devilish smirk on your face, Spencer felt a wave of avidity, longing for you more than he ever has before. He felt so conflicted about the game you were about to play. He respected you so much and yet craved to see you, to have you, in this very way for so long already. He didn’t know what to do. He dealt the cards however, entertaining the idea, and you tapped the table for cards before taking a big swig of your beer.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, Spencer’s breath hitched.

You took off your earrings first and Spencer quirked an eyebrow.

“What? Were you expecting me to take off my shirt right away?”

“No,” he shrugged before giving you the deck to shuffle again.

“I swear to-” you cursed, pulling off one of your rings this time.

Your shoes came off, then your socks. All your accessories were scattered on the table before you. The last game you stood up unbuttoning your pants. Spencer clenched his jaw, averting his eyes downward as you peeled your pants down your legs. It took quite literally everything in him to not drool over you. You sank back down to the ground, the bottom half of your body shielded by the table and Spencer looked back at you again. He dealt the cards. You asked for a card, and Spencer knew then you would lose. The probability was certain. When he hit Blackjack and you didn’t, Spencer gulped and you sighed in defeat.

Staring boldly at Spencer, you disrobed your last garment that would give you some kind of modesty. Your bra is on full display with nothing else but your pair of underwear. You had a crucial decision to make if you ended up losing again and you were seriously considering that would be the case, the butterflies erupting violently in your belly.

“We don’t have to keep going,” Spencer cleared his throat.

“And why would I do that?” Maybe it was the alcohol in your system that gave you this sudden courage, this seduction. You were starting to have fun seeing Spencer squirming on the couch, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. You suddenly wanted to egg this round on as long as you can.

“Ok, then,” he muttered, as he dealt the cards, slowly this time.

Spencer had a face down card, assuming it was a value of ten like always, and an eight. You had a seven and a three, you were fucked. You needed an ace and you’d hit blackjack, or you could build up; but that’s risky. Maybe Spencer can go over. You had a chance, you know it. Your chest was moving fast and shallow, but your face was stoic and firm. Spencer on the other hand was antsy; his eyes frantic and his leg bouncing. You knew he was staring at your chest. You planned to use it to your advantage. Was it fair game? Yeah, yeah it was. It wasn’t your fault he was distracted.

“Hit me,” you egged.

“You got it,” he responded.

A five. Fuck.

Spencer hit himself and he drew a seven. Those are bad cards. He most likely went over and you might actually finally beat him.

“One more time, boy wonder,” you snapped. A six. A beautiful six of hearts.

“I stand,” he mutters, probably knowing he lost.

“Let’s see those cards, baby,” you teased.

“You first,” he told you, and placed your cards.

“Blackjack, baby!”

Spencer laid his cards revealing his seven and eight and underneath a nine, he busted; the cards of course. You won, you finally won. You jumped up in celebration, prancing in your undergarments around the room giggling and cheering.

“I did it! I fucking did it! I beat the boy genius, fair and fucking square! You lose Spencer, loser!” you shouted taunting him and he couldn’t help the smile painted in his blushing face; he almost forgot you were prancing around almost naked in the middle of his apartment.

“I- I was distracted,” he shuttered.

“Damn right you were,” you joked, squeezing your breasts to flaunt them in his face.

“It wasn’t fair game,” he bantered.

“It wasn’t fair game, my ass. I won and you lost, and you’re being a sore loser,” you mocked as you walked towards him like a panther, playfulness and seduction dripping from your tongue.

Spencer took the moment you walked near and grabbed your wrist yanking you to stumble into his lap. You were shocked, surprised, a little turned on. You held onto his shoulders, your breathing a little quicker than before. You tried to convince yourself it was from the celebratory dance and not the growing bulge from Spencer that poked you from beneath.

“I told you, I was distracted,” he told you, his hands finding a place at their hips. Fingers caressing delicately the hem of your underwear.

“Blah, blah,” you whispered.

“Don’t give me that.”

“Now, Spence, I believe there is something you have to do, is there not?” you whispered.

“What’s that?” he bantered.

“You lost.”

“Right, unfairly I might add,” he joked.

“If all you’re gonna do is talk, then let me do the honors,” you told him.

“Be my guest.”

Your fingers pulled gently at his tie he wore, pulling over his head and tossing it to the side on the floor. You started unbuttoning his shirt, Spencer staring with heavy eyes at you as you did so.

“I thought we were only taking off one item. We should play another round then if you want my shirt off,” he teased you, bringing his hands to gently hold your wrists.

“Like that’s gonna happen,” you rolled your eyes playfully.

Spencer relaxed against the back of the couch as you unbutton his shirt all the way. You brought your lips down to kiss softly at his collarbones and his shoulder. Moving along his chest to kiss the other side. His hands moved slowly against your hips, fingers sliding between the fabric of your underwear and your skin. Your skin erupted in chills, a tingle running through your spine making your ears feel hot. You dragged your nose along his strong jawline before nipping your teeth playfully against his cheek.

He brought his hands up, fingertips tracing your spine until he reached your bra. He skillfully unhooked it leaving you a bit breathless for just a second but a second too long. You could feel it, without even needing to look at him, to know he had such a teasing smile on his gorgeous face. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off him.

You shrugged your bra off, tossing behind him giving him a playful wink which made him chuckle. You brought his hands to your breasts as you pulled his head towards you by the back of his neck to kiss him feverishly. Something you both had wanted to do for quite some time now. You wiggled your hips a bit, feeling the prodding against your center, which made Spencer groan lowly in the kiss; his hands squeezing your breasts hard in discomfort.

“Fuck, you’re gonna drive me insane,” he told you.

“Let me say hi to your little friend, Spence. Or do you want to play for that too?” you taunted him.

“God, no. I couldn’t wait a whole other hour for you to beat me again,” he bantered making you scoff and roll your eyes; his hands shot straight to his zipper to pull his pants down just enough for the both of you.

You were practically itching to get your panties off. Standing up suddenly, both you and Spencer reached instinctively to pull them off you, his lips attaching themselves to your soft belly and hips. He freed himself from the constricting fabric of his pants and pulled you down, or rather yanked you to him. You couldn’t help the bubbly laugh that came from you making Spencer smile blissfully.

You bite your lip as you reach between your bodies, lining Spencer up against you perfectly. The warmth radiating from you was driving him crazy. It took everything in him to not suddenly take control and rut his hips against you. You sank slowly down on his length, not so little, you thought yourself.

“Oh jeez, I feel like I could come already,” you gasped, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach felt already overwhelming. Maybe it was the fact you hadn’t had sex in years. You felt starved of this kind of touch, this kind of intimacy. The kind of feeling of Spencer’s cold fingertips touching and gliding across your skin like you were glass. Yeah, that was the feeling you didn’t know you needed, you didn’t realize you craved so much until this very moment.

“I’m a bit embarrassed to admit the same,” he chuckled breathlessly, “If you don’t start moving, I’m not gonna be able to hold myself back any longer.”

You took this as the green light to start rocking your hips back and forth. One hand resting against his cheek and the other stabilizing yourself against the frame of the couch. Spencer’s hands rocked with you, his way of helping and understanding the rhythm you were going. He started, with gaining confidence, to buck his hips into you and that’s when the pleasure began to build. You panted heavily above him, moans every now and then escaping your mouth to echo against the walls of Spencer’s small apartment.

“Shit. You feel so good,” he breathed out, “I thought I’d last longer.”

“Please, please don’t come yet,” you begged; bringing your forehead to his. You could see his skin becoming shiny with sweat, his cheeks flush with redness. Spencer, determined to make you come before him, or at the very least with him, reached between your thighs rubbing fast and swift circles against your clit. Your hips jerked with pleasure and Spencer’s name dripped from your lips like honey.

“Oh, that’s it,” Spencer whispered. His free hand came up and pulled you in a passionate and sloppy kiss. His tongue entwined with your and you moaned wildly as did he. His brain was fuzzy, not that your’s wasn’t also, with the sounds of sex, the rhythm of your hips, the warmth of your slick soaking his fingers.

“I’m close, fuck I’m so close, Spence,” you whined.

“Let go, sweetheart.”

“Ngh!” you moaned loudly. You dipped your head forward resting your forehead in the crook of his neck. Your bodies were so close, your bare chests pressed against each other. You both could feel the other’s breath and slowly you began to match each other’s erratic rhythm the closer you got to your climaxes. You messily pressed your lips against Spencer’s one last time before the wave of electrifying pleasure overcame you.

When you came down from your high, all you could feel and hear in that moment was Spencer. His soft pants brushing your ear, his arms cradling you close, his subtle leg shaking from what you assume was him also coming with you.

“That was really good,” you giggled.

“It really was,” he agreed.

“I’m gonna tell everyone about this,” you whispered wickedly.

“What?” Spencer questioned fearfully.

“I beat you in Blackjack,” you reminded him, making him laugh loudly.

“Give it a rest you would?” he sighed.

“No way. I’m gonna tell everyone. And everyone’s gonna tease you because I beat you fair and square. Unless, you wanna admit that my boobs were distracting you from your card counting tricks,” you teased.

“Alright, you won fair and square,” he smiled blissfully at you, his eyes soft and gentle in the warm light.

You giggled sweetly bringing him in a tender kiss, definitely not for the last time that night. Your bodies were entwined for the rest of the night until the tepid sunrays peaked meekly through the curtains of Spencer’s bedroom window. The two of you sharing giggles between the sheets with his arms embracing you the way they had been all night. Needless to say, blackjack continues to be your favorite poker game. Especially now more than ever.

#criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #mgg fluff #mgg x reader #mgg fanfiction #mgg smut #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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babyleostuff · 2 months

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౨ৎ voicemails lee jihoon leaves you while he’s on tour - fluff (with a pinch of angst), established relationship, gn!reader (pet names used: babe)

...one: hey babe, i’m just calling to say we landed safely, and we’re on our way to the hotel. i’ll try calling you again when we get there

...two: i feel like an idiot. i think i called you like ten times yesterday after we got to the hotel, but i forgot about the time difference. i really hope i didn’t wake you up

...three: the weather is so nice here. i even went on a walk today

...four: i just saw the photos you sent earlier. i was busy so i couldn’t respond, but i’m so happy you enjoyed your day. you looked lovely by the way

...five: do you think i should cut my hair? it's so long now, i'm not sure if it still looks good on me. no, soonyoung i'm serious. yes, i want to cut my hair. can you just piss off, don't you see i'm busy? anyway, let me know what you think, babe

...six: i’m really sorry i didn’t call you yesterday, we got back from the venue late at night, and i got an idea for a beat, and i just lost the track of time. i’ll make it up to you, promise

...seven: how was your day? did you remember to eat? by the way, if you have the time tomorrow, do you mind going to my studio and check if i left those black headphones you got me for our anniversary there? i can’t find them anywhere. and i also left my hoodie there, so (pause) you can take it if you want

...eight: is there anything you want me to bring back home? don’t worry about the price, just tell me what you want

...nine: make sure to clear your calendar for this saturday evening, i booked a table at the restaurant you have been talking about, so we can go out after i come back

...ten: i love you (pause) and i miss you

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity

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too-deviant · 1 month

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jackie and wilson.

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pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

summary: you haven't been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile

word count: 5.3k

content: fluffff, loser!reader, happy!luke if you squint and a sprinkle of loser!luke, brief mentions of suicide but nothing heavy, we finally find out which state reader is from

notes: this is so cute i love them.

PART III — she’s gonna save me, call me ‘baby’, run her hands through my hair

Wading through a misty green lake with Luke Castellan was not on your camp bucket list — something you’d produced with a young girl called Silena who you’d met in the arts and crafts cabin — but alas, here you were; knee deep in pond water and ankle deep in whatever sludge lived at the bottom, hands searching blindly along the floor while you tried your best to keep your chin dry.

You probably wouldn’t have been there if you were any good at Volleyball — which really doesn’t make much sense with the given context.

Okay, here’s what happened. It was Saturday at camp halfblood — and while you had been there for a solid three days now, you were yet to experience the joy of the weekends. Not that you knew they were any different, not until Travis Stoll approached you after breakfast.

“Heyyyy, uh...newbie.” He chuckled, sidling up beside you while you were occupied with deciding whether your camp shirt was better tucked into your shorts or left hanging over them.

You turned to the boy with an amused smile, reminding him of your name. He snapped his fingers at you, “I knew that. I did. I just prefer newbie.”

“What’s up, Travis?”

He dropped his finger guns, rocking back and forth on his feet and looking at you sheepishly, “Well, me and a few friends were gonna chuck a ball around on the beach and we need an extra player to make it even. Now that Luke’s not an option.”

He muttered that last bit low and under his breath, not in hopes that you wouldn’t hear but in hopes that Luke wouldn’t — there was no telling how far he was from you at any given moment, but he wasn’t going to tell you that, so he just put on his charming Stoll Smile and said, “So, wanna join us?”

You didn’t have anything to do that day, and since you’d assumed you were in for another long eight hours of finding out what you were good at and failing, a friendly game of ball (which you were safe to assume was volley, per what Luke told you yesterday) seemed like a great idea.

Only it wasn’t — friendly, that is. You wandered over to the net set up on the beach with Travis at your side and a taller girl with curly blonde hair narrowed her eyes at you in suspicion, “How good are you at this?”

“Uh —“ You shrugged, shaking your head slightly, “I’ve never played. We don’t have many beaches where I’m from.”

“You don’t need a beach to play volleyball, newbie.” Connor Stoll appeared out of nowhere, grinning at you, “But it’s easy to pick up. You can be on our team.”

Their team consisted of Connor, Chris, Poppy from the Demeter cabin, Evie and Evan (twins from the Ares cabin) and now, yourself. Apparently it was a lost cause whenever the Stolls were on the same team, so Travis was on the other side of the net with the blonde girl from earlier — who’s name you’d learnt was Sabine, and who’s godly parent was Nike, which did not decrease your nerves even a little bit.

“It’s pretty simple once you get the hang of it.” Evie explained to you once she noticed your unsure eyes. “Just don’t hit the ball twice in a row, Sab’s a stickler for that rule.”

“Other than that, we’re pretty lax.” Her brother tagged on, smirking at you, “This isn’t the Olympics.”

“Tell her that.” You side eyed the blonde on the other side of the net, who was cracking her knuckles and discussing strategy with Travis and Brynn, an Athena kid with a bright blue buzzcut.

The twins let out identical chuckles, sharing a look before patting your shoulders, “You’ll be fine.”

You didn’t have time to quip that the pair of them talking at the same time was a little foreboding before the game was on, and a volleyball was heading straight for you.

To be fair to you, you lasted longer than expected. Maybe it was your battle instincts kicking in, but you hadn’t missed the ball once — sure, your defence lacked any real strategy and was more you hitting the ball in whatever direction and hoping for the best, but it was working, so why complain? You wouldn’t qualify for varsity, but at least you were one upping a Stoll brother — the same couldn’t be said for most campers, you knew that much.

You actually thought you were getting pretty good, too. Your team was up by a few points (no thanks to you, all thanks to Evan. Seriously, he was like six foot four) and Sabine was getting angry. Every now and then she’d turn and scowl at Rhea, one of her teammates, and the girl would just shrug in response before returning to her position. But then, just when you started to get confident with it, Travis got you.

Hard, too. You were paying close attention to your feet, making sure you didn’t trip over any sand when you had to move, and unfortunately didn’t notice the ball coming at you until it clipped you in the face. You went down onto your ass, both hands flying to your nose and groaning when you felt a warm trickle of blood slide through your fingers and down your hands.

“Holy shit, newbie.” Travis sped over, dropping to his knees next to his brother and hovering over you, “I am so sorry, are you okay?”

Your speech was muffled and nasally when you replied with a swift, “No, asshole!”

“Shit.” He muttered, looking between Connor and Evie, “Uh, I can take you to the infirmary if you want —“

“I’ll take her.” Evan interrupted. He was crouched somewhere behind you, looking at your teammates over the top of your head. You felt his hands flatten on your back as he pushed you up to stand, the rest of the group joining him and wincing when some blood dripped onto the sand.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to —“ You held out a hand in his direction now that you could see him, only to press it firmly back against your face when your nose simply started to gush once the pressure had been removed.

“Yes,” He nodded, “I do. Let’s go.”

You let him lead you, sending an apologetic look to the remaining teens on the sand — you were pretty sure it looked nothing like an apology since your hands were covering half of your face and there was blood seeping through your fingers, but it was the effort that counted.

You didn’t receive as many looks as you thought you would’ve on the walk to the infirmary, although you assumed demigods had gotten worse injuries than a nosebleed before, so it wasn’t exactly odd. When you got there, you stopped on the porch and tried to speak to Evan as best you could without letting any more blood spill.

“You can — you can go.” You said through your hands, “I got it from here.”

He looked a little unsure, but you nodded firmly and he turned back the way he came. It was pretty embarrassing, walking into the infirmary with a bloody nose on your third day at camp, but the Apollo kid who took care of you said it was only a matter of time before you shed first blood, and that you’d better thank the gods it was a volleyball and not a hellhound that did the damage.

They stopped the bleeding with some sort of special gauze and told you to be a little more careful before sending you on your way — which was when you found Luke.

You didn’t even see him at first, more focused on folding the gauze you’d been given into a perfect square while you stepped off the wooden porch. But then a voice muttered your name in slight shock and confusion, and you looked up to meet those baby brown eyes you couldn’t help but love.

You grinned, “JoJo.”

Luke shook his head, “What were you doing in the infirmary?” His eyes tracked all over you, assessing for any visible injuries. When he found none, he turned his questioning gaze back to your face.

You sucked in some air through your teeth, embarrassed, “I, uh, got hit in the face with a volleyball. Turns out, I’m awful at it.” You let out a weak chuckle, and Luke rolled his eyes in amusement.

“Of course. I thought baseball was your thing?”

“It is.” You nodded, “But there’s nobody out here to play with, so…” Then an idea sprung, and your face lit up so visibly that Luke took a tentative step back, “Hey, why don’t you come watch? We’re playing on the beach.”

“Oh.” The boy paused, eyes sliding to the beach and back to you, “I don’t think so…I, uh, tend to spend my weekends alone.”

“You spend your everything alone.” You pointed out with a raised pair of brows. He pursed his lips. You sighed, “Come on. You don’t have to play.”

He looked as if he was thinking about it, and your hopes were raised a little. You liked Luke, you wanted to know him better and one day consider him a friend rather than a guy you harassed every day. But you were very aware of his aversion for all things social — the comment Travis made about Luke not playing with them anymore saddened you, and it pained you to imagine Luke all alone while his brothers and friends still had fun around him. But then his face dropped, and so did yours, Luke shaking his head no.

“I just…” He shrugged, “I don’t really…”

“It’s okay.” You interrupted before he could spout out his excuse. He didn’t need one. “We can do something else.”

“Oh, I —“ Another shake of the head, “You go back to them, don’t let me ruin it.”

“You aren’t ruining anything.” You said plainly, and you thought that those four words hit Luke a lot harder than expected, because he had this pensive look on his face that didn’t fade until you spoke again, “Listen, I know baseball isn’t exactly a camp sport, but I’ve got a ball. This place has gotta have bats — I mean, if it’s got swords, it’s got bats, right? So we grab them, we go off somewhere and take turns batting. I need to stay in practice anyway, if I’m gonna make varsity.”

You sent him your shiniest smile paired with some doughy eyes, and after squinting at you for a solid ten seconds, Luke agreed to your idea with a hesitant nod. You weren’t exactly expecting him to jump up and down in joy, so you took the liberty of doing that before asking him, very enthusiastically (because if you stayed positive, maybe it would rub off on him), to go look for a bat while you grabbed your ball.

Chris caught you exiting the Hermes cabin while he was filling up his water bottle using the outdoor tap not far from the porch, asking you what you were doing with a baseball. You explained that volleyball was definitely not your thing and ignored his chuckle of agreement in favour of informing him that you would be teaching Luke how to become the next Babe Ruth. He raised a brow.

“Really?”

“Uh, yeah.” You replied, a little put off by his reaction. “Is that a problem?”

“No, no.” He backtracked quickly, hands raised and water sloshing around his bottle as the movement, “I just…I dunno. Luke’s been a little off recently. If I were you, I wouldn’t meddle in it.”

“Meddle?” You asked, shaking your head, “In what?”

“In his…” He puffed out his cheeks, trying to find the words, “His funk.” He shook his head then, eyes glossing over as he thought about it, “He failed his quest, he’s a little butthurt, but…he’ll get over it. Y’know?”

You didn’t know.

“I just don’t think he needs babysitting.” He firmed, looking confident in his wording now that he’d found it, “He’s just gonna talk your ear off about how much he hates his life until you’re borderline suicidal. I wouldn’t bother, personally. He's a big boy, he can get over it.”

You rolled your lips over each other, staring blankly at Chris as he sent you a polite smile and walked back to the beach. Slowly, your eyes narrowed, and your brows pulled together. But you didn't say anything, you just turned around yourself and walked to where you’d asked Luke to meet you.

He was tossing the bat between his hands when you got there, dropping it in his left when he spotted you and nodding, “Alright, where are we doing this?”

You stopped, snapped out of a stupor you didn’t even realise you were in and blinking at him. For the first time since you’d met, it seemed that he was more focused and lively than you were. It irked him a little bit, and he frowned, “Sunny?”

“Sorry.” You responded immediately, shaking your head to rid yourself of your spiralling thoughts, “I just…uh, let’s go somewhere clear. We don’t wanna hit anyone with the ball.”

Luke led you to a clearing in the woods, explaining that the wood nymphs would be able to help you if the ball got lost in the foliage, so there was no need to hold back the arm you’d been bragging about for the entire walk. You just smirked, raised the bat level, and nodded at him to serve.

Yes, you were a thousand percent better at baseball than you were at volleyball. You knew that, of course, but it was nice to be reassured. Luke wasn’t half bad either, but you were also a really good runner, so you kept having to remind him that an average level fielder wouldn’t have a chance against his bats — you just so happened to be way above average.

Plus the wood nymphs were very helpful — apparently they didn’t get to watch many demigod activities other than capture the flag so it was refreshing for them to see you two play, and to actually be able to help.

All in all, you were having a great time. Which of course meant that you were long overdue for something going wrong. Of course.

“I can’t find it.”

“What?” You asked breathlessly, staring at the tree nymph who shrugged at you plainly.

“It rolled into a pond, I think.” He sniffed indignantly, “And I am not climbing into a pond.”

“Oh, and you expect us to?”

And that, kids, is how you ended up knee deep in pond water and ankle deep in something else — with Luke Castellan right by your side.

“This is so gross.” You whispered, grimacing as your hands ran over the murky bottom. You couldn’t see anything but your own reflection when you looked in, so you were replying on touch alone to help find your ball. “I can’t believe this. My lucky ball and it falls into a pond! Not so lucky anymore, huh? Yeah, lucky my ass.”

“Hey, Sunny?” A slosh of water rippled over you and you had to straighten up to avoid the tiny waves splashing in your face. They only increased at your movements, but you were too busy glaring at Luke to notice. He pressed his mouth together, holding in a chuckle, “You’re not being very sunny right now.”

You huffed, flinging your arms out at your sides and wincing when you splashed water on yourself by doing so, “I —“ A huff, “I don’t feel very sunny, Castellan. I am wading in sludge.”

He actually had the audacity to let a tiny grin slip through, “Wow, the last name? You’re acting like me right now. It’s weird.”

“I can’t believe this.” You repeated, narrowing your eyes at the boy, “I’ve been trying to cheer you up since the day I met you and when you finally do, it’s because you’re relishing in my pain? Fuck you.”

As if he was trying to piss you off, Luke laughed. He actually laughed, exactly like he had yesterday and if you weren’t so annoyed you’d be smiling at him for it. But you were annoyed, so all you did in response was send a wave of pond water at him and drench his front.

He stopped laughing. You started laughing.

“Okay, is that how you wanna play this?” He asked, stepping closer, “Is it?”

You grinned, stepping back. The water moved when you did, and the paired struggle of your’s and Luke’s legs under the water just increased the waves that oscillated around your knees. It slid up to your thighs and threatened to wet the denim of your shorts, but you were too busy prying your foot out of whatever the hell lived at the bottom of the pond so you could escape Luke’s wrath.

You shook your head, “You don’t wanna do this.”

He nodded mockingly, “I think I do.”

Then it was on. He lunged for you, and you dived to the left in a swift attempt to get around him. Water was splashing everywhere at this point but neither of you cared — especially when Luke’s hands were mere inches from your arms, waiting for your ankle to snag on some algae and pull you back so he could push you over. You were smarter than that though, so you did a swift one-eighty, dragging your hands under the water with you as you did — the wave that accumulated from the momentum doused Luke from head to toe, his curls sticking to his forehead. He wiped them away and blew hard from his mouth before forming a weak glare in your direction.

Your jaw trembled as you held in what you knew would be some serious chortles — but it was silent. The only noise apparent was the settling of the waves now that you had both stopped moving and Luke’s heavy breathing in front of you. He shook his head, stepping forward slowly, and you braced yourself for what was about to come.

“Hey!”

You paused. You shared a look with Luke before looking confusedly at the form that had appeared suddenly between the two of you. It was a girl by the looks of it, only she was made entirely of the water the two of you were standing in. She glared between the pair of you, hands on her hips.

“I don’t appreciate all this splashing.” You felt suddenly like you were being berated by a school teacher for talking too loud during class, “Are you trying to drain my pond? Are you?”

“N—No.” You responded, shaking your head, “We were just looking for — ”

The water nymph held up your ball with a stern expression, “This? Yeah, it looked like you were.”

Her sarcasm was not lost on you, and you tried your best not to meet Luke’s eyes, knowing they would fail you the second you did. Instead you looked at the nymph before you and took the ball from her outstretched hand, “Thank you. And, um, sorry…about the splashing.”

She folded her arms, lifting her head and straightening her shoulders, “That’s okay. Now get out.”

You were both quick to exit the water, although not too quick that you made anymore of it splash onto the rocks. Once you were out, the nymph nodded in satisfaction and melted back into the pond, and you and Luke were finally able to breathe. Then, you both burst into laughter.

“Oh my gods.” You huffed, shaking your head and looking down at yourself, “Did we just get into trouble?”

“With a water nymph?” He finished, shrugging off his wet shirt and wringing it out, “Yeah. How embarrassing.”

Your mouth was suddenly very dry. You knew Luke was strong — he had to be to fight a dragon and come back alive. To be known as the Best Swordsman in Camp. To be trusted by so many campers despite his newfound, distanced demeanour. But damn.

You blew out a long puff of air, hoping your reddened cheeks could be excused as some light sunburn. You weren’t as soaked as he was, but you still wafted your damp shirt from your body in hopes that it would dry — and also to give yourself something to do that wasn’t ogling at Luke’s lean figure.

He spread his shirt out on a rock, ensuring the sun was hitting it right before lowering himself to the ground on the dry grass a few feet away. He leant back on his hands, face to the sky, and revelled in the warmth. You stayed standing, fiddling with the button on your shorts, staring at him. At the scar on his face, at the rest of them along his chest.

He cracked one eye open, glancing at you, “What?”

“I, uh.” You licked your lips, “Nothing. Nothing.” You muttered, taking a seat beside him and crossing your legs. Your gaze stuck firmly to your lap and you waited for his to return to the sky. It didn’t.

“You can ask me.” He said then, shrugging.

“What happened on your quest?” You let slip, and when he stayed silent for a second too long, you realised that maybe that wasn't the question he was giving you permission to ask. “I’m sorry. I know it’s none of my business, it’s nobody’s really. But Chris told me before that you’re in a funk and that seemed like a gross understatement but then again I’ve known you for, what, three days? He’s known you for years, so surely he’s right. But you just seem like it’s more than a funk, and I don’t know what to believe because I don’t know what happened but I also don’t want to ask because it’s none of my business and it’s also very clearly a sore subject because of what happened with Dean. Not that I think you’re gonna fly off the handle or anything, but it’s definitely a touchy subject and I can’t just go demanding all the details just because I wanna be your friend and— ”

A hand over your mouth stopped you from continuing what Luke was sure to be a very long tangent. He looked at you, half in shock, half in amusement, and huffed out a laugh, “Sunny, you need to calm down.”

You couldn’t respond, but you did nod. He removed his hand slowly and you swallowed your embarrassment. Luke sat up fully, straightening his back and clearing his throat, “Uh, okay. Have you heard of that Hercules story? With the golden apples?”

You nodded, afraid to speak in case you went off on a rant again. He nodded with you, “Yeah, well, my father sent me on that. The exact same quest…except I failed.”

That explained the scar, and the dragon story he’d mentioned very briefly yesterday. He started to go into a little more detail about his quest — and suddenly you were overcome with this…angry sort of sadness.

Hermes sent Luke on a quest that had already been done. After hearing Clarisse yap your ear off about Kleos, you understood why he’d been a little bummed. Honestly, if it were you, you wouldn’t have even gone. What’s the point in doing a quest that’s already been done? But you didn’t say that to Luke, who seemed a little deep into his story. You just simmered in your irritation while he continued to explain his battle with Ladon, and his ultimate failure.

“I refused to leave the infirmary for a week.” He chuckled, but it was a little sad. “I mean, I’m supposed to be a leader here, and I fail my first quest? Some demigod I turned out to be.”

Without even thinking, you shook your head, “You didn’t fail.” Luke looked at you, confused, “You battled a dragon with a hundred heads and lived. That doesn’t sound like failure to me.”

“But I didn’t get the apples.” He explained. “I disappointed my father.”

“Your father…” You said slowly, unsure of how your next words would land, “Who I’m going to assume had never spoken to you until the day he gave you your quest?” Luke nodded after a brief pause and you took that as permission to continue, “So who cares if he’s disappointed? He clearly doesn’t care if you’re mauled by a dragon.”

“Exactly.” Luke replied, brows pulled together in the way they had been when you’d first met. Angry, irritated. Disappointed. “Everyone keeps telling me to get over it. That demigods have failed quests before and it just means I need to try harder next time but…why should there be a next time? Really, if you sit and think about it for a second, why are we even here? To train, so we don’t die whenever monsters come and attack us? And who’s fault is that? Maybe if our parents were good people, there wouldn’t be any monsters trying to murder their kids. If they cared, even a little bit, they’d do more than just claim us and leave us to die!”

He scoffed, looking in the direction where you knew the rest of the campers resided — playing games, building weapons, dedicating every waking hour to becoming the best of the best. And for what? For glory? For a pat on the back from a parent who can’t even be bothered to raise them?

“They don’t get it.” He said then, turning back to you, “They think this is all okay. They’re too invested to realise that they’re just being used. They’re so focused on getting a shred of recognition from the gods that they don’t understand that it’s never gonna come.”

“So…” You finally spoke, your first words in a minute, “What do we do?”

Luke shrugged then, “I don’t know yet.”

It was silent for a long time after that. Luke stayed staring at the floor and you led back to stare at the sky. He was right, wasn’t he? Sure, you’d only been in this for a little while, but you weren’t stupid. You knew the gods didn’t care — you’d figured out that much when you got to camp. A dumping ground for demigods. Demigod daycare, except mommy isn’t coming to pick you up at three o’clock. Luke deserved to be angry, he deserved to mope — they all did.

But they wouldn’t. You could sit there and curse the gods for hours on end, but that was still half of you. And that, you thought, was probably the worst part of it all.

You were so caught up in your feelings that when the tree that had been shading you phased into a nymph and walked away, you jumped halfway out of your skin, “Jeezum crow.”

You looked at Luke, expecting him to either share the same dumbfounded look on his face or be laughing at you — something he seemed to be doing a lot of today — but instead he was staring at you, slack-jawed and wide eyed. You blinked, “What?”

“You’re from Vermont.”

Your mouth snapped shut, and his expanded into the grin you’d been hassling him for since you’d set your sights on him. You sighed, “Fuck.”

He let out a disbelieving laugh, “You’re from Vermont! Holy shit. I should’ve known it when you called me a flatlander.” He threw his head back, and you shook yours at his dramatics. But he didn’t care, he just pointed at you, “You’re a fuckin’ woodchuck!”

“Oh my gods.” You groaned into your hands, pulling yourself to your feet in hopes of escaping his sudden glee. “Is that so bad?”

“No.” He laughed, following you, “I’m just amazed that I figured it out. I’m a genius!”

“Okay.” You sent him a blank look, but it only lasted a few seconds before your tiny smile was fighting through, “It’s not like you’ve discovered the meaning of life. Calm down.”

“Never.” He shook his head, “This is my greatest achievement.”

“You fought a dragon.”

“Screw the dragon!” He gripped your biceps, grinning at you, “You’re from Vermont!”

“You’re not funny.”

“And yet you’re laughing.”

“I am not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not!”

____________

“What’d you do to him?”

You threw a piece of salmon into the fire, glancing at Chris, “I’m getting deja vu. Haven’t you asked me this already?”

“Yeah, but…” The boy looked behind him, back at the Hermes table, where Luke was perched on the end and waiting patiently for you to come back from the hearth before digging into his food, “This time I mean it. I mean, he still isn’t talking to us, but he’s sitting on our side of the table again. You can be honest with me…” He sent you a grave look, “Did you give him a BJ?”

“What? No!” You threw a pea at him. “I just listened to him.” You tried to be a little serious, but clearly Chris wasn’t getting the hint, so you relented, “And doused him in pond water.”

He laughed at that, nodding proudly. You turned back to the fire, asking Aphrodite to get rid of your split ends. You’d given up on praying to your father, deciding to go through every Olympian until one of them answered. So far, only Hera had responded — you assumed so, anyway, when a cuckoo woke you up from your afternoon nap. That wasn’t very helpful, but at least it was an answer. You didn’t suspect campers prayed to her often, so she probably appreciated the sentiment.

“So…” Travis smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you once you sat down. He sent this look around the group, but even Connor gave him a weirded out look in response. He huffed, “It’s team day tomorrow.”

A collective ohhh seemed to hum around the group, but you were still confused. You sent a questioning look to Luke who said, “For Capture the Flag. Tomorrow is when all the cabin counsellors gang up and decide on the two teams.”

“Then we have five days to strategise.” Travis continued on very dramatically, hands splayed on the table, “And on Friday…we battle.”

That seemed to lift the energy up a bit, the people around you sharing mischievous looks. They started to discuss amongst them who would be the best cabin to ally with, Lana turning to Chris, “Who are you gonna pick?”

Chris went to speak, but paused. He seemed to think about something, looking slightly scared but still turning to the boy across from him anyway, “I thought maybe…Luke would like to reinstate himself as team captain this month.”

Right, you’d completely forgotten. During your spear lessons with Clarisse, you’d asked her why it was so important that you be amazing at fighting quickly if monsters couldn’t get into camp. She’d then explained the whole situation that was Capture the Flag — how it was a bigger deal than the super bowl around here — before briefly mentioning that Luke had always been Hermes team captain, but stepped down for the last game because his scar was still healing from his quest. Chris had taken over for him, and based off of the looks the people around you were sporting, you assumed they weren’t expecting him to give up his title so quickly.

You couldn’t blame them. Luke hadn’t exactly expressed much desire to captain this time — he hasn’t expressed much desire for anything these days apparently. You were all waiting for him to let Chris down easy, but instead he looked up from his plate with an indifferent nod and said, “Yeah, sure.”

Nobody said anything. Except Chris who, when Luke stood to rack up his empty plate, looked at you gravely and asked, “Was it a handjob?”

🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons @woodlandwrites @theo-notts-doll @iammightsadyall @fennecswife @csifandom @tsireyasgf (just ask to be removed/added!)

#sunny!verse #@lia’s works #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #i am a hoe for loser!luke #i also know nothing about baseball #hence the very brief baseball scene #its just like rounders im pretty sure #but im not too confident on that #also reader maybe gets claimed in the next part #wink wink

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borathae · 3 months

Text

↳ Index [Snippet #45 - Showerhead]

"When you and Jungkook get each other off with a showerhead."

Genre: married life!AU, Slice of Life Fluff, Smut

Warnings: the cozy small town vibes we all love TCT for <3, Kookie being a sexy tattoo artist, he's a tired bean as is OC, a cozy night in with burgers from Seokjin's diner, Bam being the cutest dog, the next warnings are for smut: this is kinda a quickie, there's no specific roles just a married couple having some sexy time to let off some steam, they had a lil bit of a stressful day and relax this way, shower sex, making out, naked grinding, some grinding on his thigh, they use the showerhead on each other to make each other cum, Jungkook being wet and hot, sexy communication, dirty talk, praise, size & strength kink, squirting, giggly aftercare, this is the kinda sex you can only have with someone you know well and love dearly, they're so in love you guys :(, *shrivels up* the domestic comfort *implodes*

Wordcount: 5.3k

a/n: my explanation for this? i love this universe, i love this couple, i love their bond. enjoy besties 🧡

“Hey there.”

Seokjin lifts his head from the receipts he was sorting through. His eyes light up instantly, an adoring smile curls his lips.

“___! Yooo, you’re here”, he hollers and leaves his place behind the counter with stretched open arms.

You fall into the hug, letting out a little giggle because you’re really happy to see him.

“I am. Today was stressful as fuck though”, you say.

“Yeah? Busy day at the restaurant?”

“One could say that, yeah”, you say and break the hug, “how was your day?”

“Stressful as well. I don’t know why people were so hungry today, but it’s only just calmed down.”

You scan your eyes over the familiar diner. Seven of the twenty three tables are occupied. You shake your head in comradery knowledge and look back at Seokjin.

“I think it’s the weather. People like eating out when it’s cloudy.”

“Yeah, I guess so. Speaking of food, I’ve got your burgers in the back”, he says and turns to leave.

“You’re a fucking saviour, you know?”

“Tell me once I’m back”, he calls out and disappears in the kitchen.

He reappears again after a few seconds, carrying a paper bag with your order.

“Here you go. Two deluxe beef burgers with extra bacon for Kook and lots of sauce for you.”

“And two servings of chilli cheese fries.”

“Of course, with extra cheese because it’s you.”

“Dude, I seriously love you. You saved our evening. I feel too tired to cook and I know Kook’s gonna wanna lie down the moment he’s home.”

“Where is he? Still at the studio?”

“Yeah, till eight. He’s got a full back tattoo to finish. He’s been at it since nine.”

“Geez, whoever is getting the tattoo is either insane or has lost all feeling in their nerves ‘cause a full back tattoo for elven hours is fucking mental.”

“Right? Dude, when Kook did the snake on my shoulder blade?” you turn your shoulder to him, pointing at it even if currently your biker jacket is keeping it hidden.

“Yeah?”

“I cursed at him multiple times. Not ‘cause I wanted to, but ‘cause it happened on instinct. It hurt like a fucking bitch.”

Seokjin laughs, “I know how you feel. My back tattoo experience still haunts me.”

“Didn’t you curse at him too?”

“I think I might have even threatened his life at one point.”

You and he laugh.

“Totally understandable”, you joke.

“Yeah, ah funny”, Seokjin says and walks behind the counter again.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Please, it’s on the house.”

“I hate it when you do that. How much do I owe you?”

“It’s fine, dude. Just bring me some of those parmesan rind balls you’re serving at the restaurant and we’re even.”

You roll your eyes and place the correct amount of money on the counter.

“Good thing I worked here for years”, you say and turn your back to Seokjin to strut off.

“I should change the prices, seriously”, Seokjin jokes as he looks at you, reaching for the money you left.

You snicker, turning in the doorway, “see you at Tae’s and Hobi’s on Saturday?”

“Of course. I’ve been looking forward to DnD night all week. Namjoon keeps talking about how much fun being DM is. He says this session will be unlike any before.”

“He always says that and then they never disappoint.”

“Seriously”, Seokjin agrees, “and Jimin was here this morning and said that Yoongi will bring apple pie.”

“Seriously? Oh my god, mhhm”, you groan, “I’m so excited, dude.”

“Me too”, Seokjin says and lifts his hand for a wave, “drive safely, ___.”

“Thank you. You too, Seokjin”, you say and turn to leave.

You store your dinner in the safety compartment on your bike and put your helmet on. You fix your gloves and then finally sit down on your bike to drive off. The smell of warm concrete tickles your nose as you cruise through the familiar streets. The diner soon disappears behind you and Hoseok’s garage appears to your right. You slow down to see if you can spot him. You can. He is working outside. He lifts his head at the sound of your bike and stands up, lifting his hand to wave at you. You wave back at him, slowing down your bike because luckily for you, the lights turned red. You open your visor.

“Yoongi brings apple pie on Saturday!” you call out loudly over the rumbling of your bike and also to bridge the distance.

“Dude, that’s fucking awesome!” Hoseok calls back, making a funnel with his hands to be louder, “driving home?”

“Yeah! I got burgers at Jin’s!”

“Nice! Enjoy them!”

“I will!”

The lights turn green again.

“See you Saturday!” you yell happily and close your visor to drive off.

Hoseok gives you a wave with both of his hands, swaying his hips from side to side to really get his excitement across. You laugh in fondness, giving him a wave until a turn to your left, naturally forces both your hands back onto the handles so you could take it safely.

The denser inner town soon disappears behind you as the road takes you along the coast. You pass Jimin’s and Yoongi’s house on tonight’s route. The lights in the street facing rooms are turned off, but you can spot the garden lights being on. You sound your horn as you pass them, knowing that they will know that it was you greeting them. Then you speed up, leaning into it. The road allows you to do so safely and there is nothing better than feeling the warm night air on your skin. Today is a good day. Even if it was stressful, the small moments of familiarity and good friendship were already enough to make it a good day.

Bam waits for you by the garage door, containing his excitement by sneezing repeatedly and tippy-tapping with his hind legs.

“Hello there Bamie, how was your day?” you greet him in a squeaky voice.

Bam huffs out air, shaking his head.

“That’s good to hear. I had a stressful day, but I got burgers”, you say and walk off to the kitchen. Bam follows next to you, sniffling at the bag, “it’s not for you, you greedy boy”, you laugh, moving it higher so he can’t reach it anymore, “don’t worry, mommy’s gonna feed you right away”, you say and open the fridge, “are you hungry, baby?”

You and Jungkook started a new diet with Bam after consulting with your trusty vet. It consists of raw, fresh meats, vegetables, fish and eggs presented in a bowl which makes him work for the food so he gets mental stimulation out of it as well. He even gets some berries and the most delicious unsalted bone broth to wash it down with. Truly, your little doggy son eats like royalty with you. You swear that ever since you started his diet, his fur glowed more and his poops smell better.

Bam waits by your feet with his tail wagging excitedly, looking up at you with big eyes.

“Almost done, baby. Wow, you can’t even imagine how stressful today was. I had to run around so much, my feet hurt”, you say and pick up the filled bowl to carry it to Bam’s feeding station.

The Doberman follows you and sits down in perfect position instantly. Just like you and Jungkook have trained him.

“Good boy”, you praise him, “turn.”

Bam follows.

“Sit.”

Bam follows.

“Good boy. Wait.”

Bam follows, watching you put his food bowl into the mount. You straighten up. Bam looks up at you.

“Wait.”

He doesn’t move.

“Wait.”

He doesn’t move.

“Release.”

Bam finally moves and jumps up to begin eating his food. You give him a little pet on his back.

“Good boy. There we go, enjoy your food.”

You give him his space afterwards, leaving the kitchen to change into comfortable clothes and wash your hands. You are in the hallways leading to the stairs when Jungkook comes home.

“Sweetie! I’m home!”

“Hellooo”, you coo, jogging down the stairs and meeting Jungkook at the end of them. You stay on the last step, hooking your arms behind his head to pull him into a kiss. He has to tilt his head up for it, wrapping his arms around your waist, “mwuah”, you end the kiss, giving him a happy scrunch of your face.

He retorts it, hugging you.

“How was your day?” he asks you.

“Stressful, but not bad. Yours?”

“Exhausting. My back’s killing me and my neck’s already dead.”

You slide your hand to his neck to massage it gently.

“I can imagine. Did you finish it?”

“Yeah, the madman actually sat through the entire tattoo.”

“That’s actually crazy.”

“Yeah”, Jungkook chuckles and lifts his head, resting his chin against your chest. He grins as he talks, “did you get the burgers?”

“Of course I did. They’re waiting for us in the kitchen.”

“I’m so hungry already.”

“Me too”, you say and break the hug by getting down from the last step, “wanna watch The Witcher as we eat?”

“Yes, that sounds like a plan”, Jungkook says as he jogs up the stairs to change into comfortable clothes and wash his hands.

You have the burgers and fries prepared on your coffee table when Jungkook comes back. Bam is on the sofa next to you, resting his head on his front paws as he enjoys his post dinner nap. Jungkook wakes him as he gets on his knees in front of him and greets him with kisses all over his face.

“Hello Bamie”, he coos in a squeaky voice, “did you have a good day? Daddy had a really long day. Oh Bamie, my baby.”

The Doberman accepts his dad’s kisses with a wagging tail. It makes a dull sound of impact each time it slaps the couch cushions.

“Mwuah”, Jungkook finishes his kisses with a smooch to Bam’s forehead and then stands up. He picks up his burger and plops down on the couch so Bam was between you and him. He stretches his legs out and lets his head plop against the cushions. Then he sighs, “that’s luxury, seriously.”

“Yeah”, you agree, “ready?”

“Yeah.”

You press play on the show and for the next twenty minutes, you enjoy your dinner as the show was running. You pause it once you are finished with your food so you could carry the dirty plates to the kitchen and start the dishwasher. You return with some chocolate drops for dessert.

“Choco snack?” you offer Jungkook.

“Uuh, yes thank you”, Jungkook says and scoops a good handful out of the bowl. Bam left the spot between you and him by now so he could instead scratch at his favourite scratching mat. The sounds of his playing fill the background as you press play on the show again. You rest on the couch in a way which enables Jungkook to lie down between your legs. You put the snack bowl on his stomach and begin massaging his shoulders.

“Mhm yeah, that’s premium”, he says, wiggling happily, “thankies.”

“Tell me if I hurt you”, you say and then no other words are exchanged between you and him as you enjoy the show. You snack, you cuddle, you massage his shoulders and you react to good scenes in the show. It’s truly the perfect evening.

After the episode finished, you stay on the couch to chat about your days. You and Jungkook are facing each other. He is sitting on the sofa cross-legged as he massages your feet because you complained about them hurting.

“By the way, I just remembered”, you say during a moment of nice silence.

“Yeah?”

“Seokjin told me that Jimin was at the diner today and that he told him that Yoongi will bring apple pie on Saturday.”

“This just made my entire night. Yoongi’s apple pie is the best apple pie ever. Sorry baby, yours is amazing too, but I gotta be honest.”

You laugh, “no, I agree. There is no better apple pie than Yoongi’s. And Jinnie said that Joon can’t shut up about how good this session will be.”

“He always says that and then it’s never a lie.”

“I said the same thing.”

You and Jungkook share in little chuckles.

Bam appears by your side, stubbing Jungkook’s knee.

“I think he needs to shit”, he says.

“Yeah, I think so too. His eyes are glassy.”

“Do you need to poop, baby?” Jungkook coos at Bam. The dog huffs out air and leaves the living room for the front door, “okay yeah he does. I’ll take him for a walk, okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll stay here if you don’t mind. My feet are gonna shrivel up if I take another step today.”

Jungkook chuckles, “no worries. I need the movement either way”, he says and gets up. He kisses your forehead as he passes you, “it shouldn’t take too long.”

“Yeah, okay. If I’m not here when you return, I’m taking a shower.”

“Okay. See you later, sweetie.”

“See you, honey.”

Just like you told Jungkook, you are taking a shower when he returns. He knocks on the door.

“Come in!”

He enters the bathroom and locks the door behind him. He scans his eyes up and down your naked body, but doesn’t say anything raunchy about it.

“How was the walk?”

“Good. I feel human again”, Jungkook says and rolls his shoulders, “Bam’s in his crate already. He totally passed out after the walk. He did so much sniffing, I think it tired him out.”

“He’s so cute.”

“Yeah, he really is”, Jungkook sighs dreamily, "our son."

You chuckle fondly and guide the showerhead over your left arm, “do you wanna join me?”

“Uuh, yes I do”, he coos and begins undressing in little dance moves. It makes you laugh because he is such a dork.

Now buttnaked, he grins cutely and steps into the shower. He leans in for a little kiss, but you attack him with water instead by turning the showerhead and covering his chest with it.

“Hey”, he laughs.

You snicker mischievously then begin guiding the showerhead over his body to wet him.

“Not cool. I wanted to kiss you”, he chuckles.

“Kisses come later. You’re sweaty.”

“Wow, so mean”, he laughs and turns his back to you so you can wet it as well.

You turn off the water afterwards, picking up his soap to squirt some into his hands.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome”, you say and switch out his soap for yours.

You and he soap yourselves up, going thoroughly to really make sure the day is washed off. You even soap up your cracks, feeling no shame in doing so. It was a little awkward in your beginning phase, because soaping up your intimate places is a very personal thing to do, but these days, you don’t think it’s embarrassing to do it in front of each other. In some weird way, it’s kind of nice to do it in front of each other. You are bonded for life and there are no other people you know as intimately as you know each other. Feeling comfortable in washing even the most personal places in front of each other just means that what you and he have is real and it’s home.

Jungkook takes on the job of washing the soap off your bodies. First you and then himself. He keeps the water running afterwards, guiding it over your body for now to warm you up.

“And now?” he asks.

“We could dry up and watch more Witcher or we could get a little sexy.”

“A little sexy?” Jungkook asks and glances at your tits, “like sexy sexy?”

“Yes, sexy sexy”, you snicker, nudging his chest, “doofus.”

“What? I gotta make sure, I don’t wanna be weird.”

“Cutie”, you say and take the showerhead from him to warm him for a change, “do you wanna be sexy sexy with me?”

“Yeah”, Jungkook nods his head, “yeah, I can be convinced.”

“You can?” you ask seductively.

“Mh-hm”, Jungkook hums and wiggles his brows.

You turn the water off and put the showerhead in its mount for now. You step closer to Jungkook and touch his chest.

“You can get your kisses now”, you tell him.

“Finally”, Jungkook says and grabs your butt with both his hands to pull your body close. He claims your lips in a kiss, purring happily.

“Mhhm”, you hum, burying your fingers in his hair as you get lost in his kisses.

You kiss, you touch, you grope and hug. You stumble, press each other against the tiles, giggle, kiss some more and turn each other on in the process. Most of your shared showers don’t end in sex, so tonight feels extra special. You felt like it. You had such a good day and Jungkook is such a cutie that you just wanted to at least shoot your shot. That Jungkook said yes was the sweetest cherry on top.

By now, Jungkook has you against the tiles with one knee between your legs so you can grind on it as you kiss. He is rolling his hips against you, finding sweet electricity on your stomach as his hard cock moves against it.

Jungkook breaks the kiss to nibble on your neck.

“I love it when you mark my thigh”, he rasps.

“I know”, you sigh. Your lips feel puffy and tender from kissing, “shit Kook, it feels so good.”

“Yeah, it does”, he agrees, squeezing your butt, “my goddess. Gotta love that ass.”

“You’re stupid”, you snicker and moan, “fuck, you feel good.”

“Mhm, yeah”, he sucks a spot of sensitivity to your neck, “so good.”

“Kiss me again”, you say and pull him into a kiss.

And so you do it again. You kiss, you touch, you grope and grind. You moan, sigh, shiver and pull each other closer. You stumble and move around, almost knock the soap bottles over and hit the showerhead hose with your elbow.

You break the kiss again. You are both out of breath and heated up. Jungkook looks at you with heavy eyes.

“Wanna do something fun?” you ask.

“More fun than this?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me.”

“Wanna get each other off with the showerhead?”

“Yes”, Jungkook furrows his brows, “fuck, your mind. You’ve got the sexiest ideas.”

“I know”, you snicker, “you first. I’ll make you cum”, you say and push him away from you gently.

“Okay”, Jungkook stumbles back, lifting his hands in defeat, “I’m not stopping you.”

You take the showerhead off its mount and turn the water on, checking the temperature with your hand. You lower it then turn it to Jungkook.

“Is that good for you?”

“Yeah, it’s nice.”

“Okay then, get ready.”

“I’m so ready”, Jungkook says and looks at his hard cock.

You place your palm on the upper side of his cockhead and use your thumb to hold it in place. You tilt it and guide the showerhead to his sensitive tip.

Jungkook gasps, taking a wobbly step closer while his cock throbs into the sensation.

“How’s that?” you ask him, lifting your eyes to meet his gaze.

It is foggy in pleasure. His lids are lowered halfway.

“Good”, he whispers and parts his lips for a soft moan.

“You’re so pretty”, you speak quietly too. It feels right to do so.

“No, you are. Ah”, he furrows his brows, “there. Woah, ah”, and his eyes fall closed before his nose scrunches in pleasure. Another moan rolls off his tongue, his lips stay parted afterwards.

You look back at his cock. The water is hitting him right at his frenulum, reaching parts of his flushed tip as well. His thick vein is pulsating, moving his entire cock on your palm. His lower abs tense and tremble.

“Right there?” you ask, drawing circles.

“Yes, don’t stop. Keep, ah, please keep going.”

“Okay”, you say and try to keep the movements as they are right now. Slow circles with a minimal diameter so most of the water is focused on his sensitive frenulum. He says it’s where the pleasure goes especially deep. There and right on his tip. You don’t want to change the motion for the sake of finding out if his tip feels just as good however. Jungkook sounds so perfect right now.

“This feels so good”, he moans, touching your shoulder just to run his hand down your arm. He lingers on your elbow, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“It does. It’s so hot, baby.”

“Yeah-ah”, he bites his lower lip and smiles the kind of smile he always does when the pleasure hits just right, “that’s wow, aha”, he laughs breathily and opens his eyes, looking down at his own cock. He follows the showerhead as you guide it over his cock, sliding his hand to the back of your neck.

“Fuck.”

“Good?”

“Fuck, looking at it…” Jungkook closes his eyes and furrows his brows, “...yeah that’s gonna make me cum. Fuck….baby…”

“Can I try your tip? Just to see.”

Jungkook nods his head. You guide the showerhead away from his frenulum to instead draw circles on his tip. His cock throbs. He lets out a soft gasp.

“Good?”

“Yeah”, he rasps and rolls his hips, “I liked the other spot more. Please.”

“Mhm, that’s sexy”, you purr and guide the showerhead back to where you were before, “there?”

“Lower, ahnm it’s good just low- yes! Ah”, he moans loudly, throwing his head back, “there. That’s the fucking spot, holy shit.”

His cock pulsates and leaks. The water washes it away instantly, but the twitchy nature of his cock remains.

“You’re so sexy. Fuck, I’m going insane”, you rasp and feel tingles run all over your skin.

“Baby, you’re making me cum”, Jungkook gets out and squeaks in a moan, “a-ah”, he clears his throat, “sorry, voice cra-ah-ack. Ah fuck, ___ holy shit.”

You snicker, “you’re cute”, you say and draw a little heart. And another one. And one more for good measures, “and sensitive.”

“Yeah I was close”, he says and scrunches his nose, “this is gonna feel so. So ah. So good”, Jungkook stutters and rolls his hips, “stay there. There. Baby, please.”

“There?”

Jungkook moans loudly, scrunching his face.

“Yeah, right there”, you rasp, “you’re such a pretty boy, getting your pretty cock all clean and nice for me.”

“Fuck, oh fuck.”

“So pretty. You’re such a pretty boy with the prettiest cock.”

“Now”, Jungkook gets out and moans, convulsing in his high. He spills all over his tummy and your hand, but the water washes it away instantly. He wobbles, finding support by holding your shoulder, “I was right, it feels so good”, he whines and reaches down to play with his own tip, “oh god, ____. Ah!”

“You’re so hot. So fucking hot”, you moan with him, feeling your own knees buckle. There are only a few things hotter than watching your husband orgasm. You could fucking do it for hours. It’s addictive, especially when he’s wet from a shower and his knees are wobbling like crazy.

“Woah”, Jungkook gets out and slacks against you, dropping his head on your shoulder as his arms close around you. He audibly gulps repeatedly, nuzzling his nose into your skin. His cock is squished between your tummies, throbbing slowly. You hold the showerhead behind his back for now, letting the water hit the tiles.

“Liked it?” you ask him, tracing his spine.

He nods his head and exhales shakily, “holy fuck.”

You giggle, “you’re cute. I’m happy you liked it.”

“Yeah, I did. Seriously wow”, he exhales happily and lifts his head, giving you a goofy grin, “you’re the best ever. Thank you.”

You do a little curtsey, “you are very welcome.”

Jungkook laughs and gives your waist a little squeeze. His eyes lower playfully, he licks his lips. You feel your heart speed up and your pussy throb.

“Now give me the showerhead. It’s your turn”, he rasps and smirks.

You give it to him without hesitation, parting your legs so he can have access. You keep staring into his eyes, feeling yourself totally lose yourself in him. Jungkook gazes at you, eye fucking you so well that your breath is already shaky even without any sort of stimulation.

“Count to three for me”, he whispers.

“One.”

Jungkook slides his left hand to your hip.

“T-two.”

Jungkook leans down to place a kiss on the most sensitive spot of your neck.

“Three”, you sigh, closing your eyes in anticipation.

Warm water hits your pussy and stimulates your aching clit. You grip his strong upper arms, squeezing desperately.

“Jungkook….”

Jungkook purrs deeply, using his lips and teeth to play with your earlobe. He slides his left hand to the small of your back and tilts your hips with a gentle push, making it so your clit is more exposed to the stream of warm water.

The moan you let out bounces off the walls, but you find no shame in it. On the contrary, you allow another sound to slip, rolling your hips into the sensation.

“Is that nice, mhm?” Jungkook asks in a rasp and his voice tickling your ear.

“Yeah, nice”, you get out, gliding your hands to his pecs. Fuck, his skin is so wet and silky from the water. His muscles are twitching under your touch, his deep purr tickles your palm.

“You’re so sexy like this. Keep touching me, baby. Feel how strong I am, mhm?”

“Yeah…” you sigh, moaning when he tenses his pecs just for you.

Jungkook growls playfully and moves the showerhead closer. You twitch instinctively, feeling your knees shake.

“Wait. It feels weird like this”, you say.

“Yeah? What do you need changed?”

“Don’t laugh, but I want it like this”, you say and sit down on the floor. You rest against the tiles and prop up your feet, parting your legs.

“This is so hot”, Jungkook says and kneels down in front of you. He scoots close and gets comfortable with his legs crossed. You place your legs over his’, propping your feet up on the floor behind him. Like this, you have skin on skin contact and Jungkook is facing you head on. He leans in for a kiss, breaking it by gently nipping on your lower lip.

“You’re sexy”, he rasps and guides the showerhead to your pussy.

You jolt up, arching your back.

“Woah.”

“Good?”

“Can you, ah, use your fingers to spread me?”

Jungkook nods his head and uses his left hand to part your folds for the water. Trembles shake your legs, your hips roll into the sensation.

“Fuck yes, ah like this.”

“This is so hot. I love this”, Jungkook rasps and switches his gaze to your pussy. He licks his lips, wiggling his hips in desperation. You are so spread for him and the water takes such pretty paths along your pussy. He makes sure to bundle the stream onto your clit area. You already look so swollen, especially now that he is keeping you spread, “you look so sensitive, baby.”

“Your thigh”, you mewl and it’s enough for Jungkook to understand that grinding on his meaty thigh brought you just as close as your stomach did him.

“Fuck, so hot”, he growls and spreads your pussy more. He draws lines up and down your clit, listening for your reaction.

“Jungkook, baby”, you moan, rolling your head back.

Thud.

It falls against the tiles. Jungkook looks at your face. Your eyes are closed, a droopy smirk curls your lips.

“Does it feels good what I do?” he asks in a soft spoken voice.

You nod your head.

“Should we try circles too?”

You nod your head again.

Jungkook changes the lines for circles, sending trembles through your legs.

“It’s that. Ahng”, you scratch your nails over the tiled floor before grabbing your own thighs for support, “that. It’s, it’s that. Ah, fuuck….” you open your legs further, panting heavily as your back arches off the wall.

“Fuck, this is hot. I’m going insane”, Jungkook confesses in a raspy voice and his darkened eyes flitting back to your pussy.

“Don’t stop please. This feels so good.”

“I won’t, baby”, he promises you and leans in for a kiss. He manages to place one on your jawline, ending it with a little suck.

“Ah, mhm, ah”, you let out and writhe, “it’s soon.”

“Yeah? So hot. My pretty girl with her pretty pussy. It’s so sexy how she’s getting all wet for me.”

“Keep talking, holy fuck.”

“Mhm, my pretty girl. You’ve got the prettiest pussy, baby”, Jungkook rasps and swirls the showerhead just how you need it, “my prett-”

“Now!” you fall into his words as your high hits you. Sit up in reaction, grabbing Jungkook’s arm for support as the only sound leaving you is a throaty “ngn.”

“Baby”, Jungkook moans with you, staring at your throbbing pussy obsessively. She is pulsating so much.

“Holy fuck, this is actually making me squirt. Ohgod. Urgh”, you moan and groan, convulsing uncontrollably as the intense stimulation of the water makes you squirt.

“Holy fuck, baby. Holy fuck”, Jungkook growls, gawking obsessively. The water washes any kind of proof away instantly, but the way you grab him and shake, is enough to let him know that you weren’t bluffing. The showerhead is making you fucking squirt all over the shower floor and it’s Jungkook’s doing.

“You’re a fucking goddess. Holy shit, I’m going insane”, Jungkook moans and helps you ride it out until you push away the showerhead on your own.

You drop against the wall, letting your head tangle tiredly.

“No more. Holy fuck”, you croak and writhe, “wow…”

Jungkook, who is still keeping you spread with his left hand, uses his pointer finger to rub your clit. He gets as far as to lightly brush his the pad of his finger over it and then you already flinch in overstimulation. Your legs fall closed as best as possible, your eyes open and beg him to stop.

“Seriously don’t. I’m so-” you twitch and flinch as Jungkook does it again.

As gently as possible. But you are way too overstimulated, so it felt as if he was using his entire force.

“Kook”, you both moan and complain, “stop it, I’m too sensitive”, you say in a laugh, reaching between your legs to pull his hand away.

Jungkook laughs and lets you. He holds your waist instead, closing in so he could claim your lips in a smiley kiss.

You kiss him back, but soon push him away gently. You slap his chest with both hands, barely using strength for it.

“You’re fucking awful. My clit’s sensitive”, you chuckle.

“Sorry, it was too tempting not to”, he snickers, “you know I love it when you’re like this.”

“I know. Too much unfortunately. One day I’ll accidentally kick you ‘cause you activated some sort of reflex. Seriously.”

Jungkook laughs. You laugh. You fall into a giggly kiss again, ending it with a mutual “mhm” and a stub with your noses.

You rest your forehead together, keeping your eyes closed.

“So this was amazing”, he whispers

“Yeah, it was. Exactly what I needed tonight.”

“Definitely. I feel so good. You?”

“Me too, yeah. Although, two things.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook is already snickering.

“My tailbone is starting to hurt and I’m getting sleepy.”

He chuckles and pecks your lips.

“Let’s actually dry ourselves, do our routines and then go to bed?” he suggests.

“Sounds like a deal. Snuggles later?”

“Snuggles definitely later. Oh hell yeah, you can bet on it”, he says, making you giggle.

“You’re cute. Now help me up, I’m ruined, seriously.”

Jungkook laughs, “hold onto me. Your strong hubby will help you.”

“Wow, I married the strongest person ever. My hero”, you joke, looking into Jungkook’s sparkly eyes as you and he once again share in giggles and laughter.

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loveshotzz · 8 months

Text

All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap nine/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs - updated every wednesday

Ask Me What I’m Thinking About

summary: Baseball can be a dirty game.

wc: 8.3k

warnings: 18+ some drinking, semi public fooling around (in a skybox), steve gets a little too worked up teaching you the rules of the game😏 (slight daddy kink)

authors note: I can’t believe we’re at the second to last chapter 🥺 thank you to everyone who’s been reading and all your sweet words this whole series, you guys really are the best 🧡

🌇 <- chapter eight

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The Tune:

The kiss lingered on your lips for days after the Fourth of July. A week at work lost in daydreams about the man that tasted like lemonade and stole your breath under fireworks at the lake. Fingertips trace the places graced by his lips to try and keep the feel of them fresh in your mind, impatiently counting down the days till you see him again.

You tug at the bottom hem of your sundress standing at Steve’s front door. It’s shorter than you’re used to, and the shade of red it was could never be found in your wardrobe until earlier this week. You’d fallen victim to an after work shopping trip with a coworker who had persuasive opinions that had you feeling confident when you looked in the long mirror of the fitting room. Her words ringing in your head like a mantra as you take a deep breath before knocking. Somersaults and cartwheels in your stomach, you wonder if it will always feel like the first time.

Bandit’s loud bark makes your cheeks push up in the kind of smile you usually only give to Steve. The sound of long nails scraping excitedly on the other side of the door followed by his owner's deep bellow of his name only make it grow more. Butterflies take flight when you hear the click of the lock, another tug and a second deep breath.

“Bandit stop- Hey - oh wow, baby.” Standing there with the door half open, Steve drinks you in with hungry eyes. They roam up the expanse of your thighs, licking his lips when he sees how dangerous a strong breeze can be. “You look - wow, you look beautiful.”

It feels like summer heat on your cheeks, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as you try not to beam. Maybe Jenny from work was right. Your eyes are just as greedy as his when you notice the tight fit of his jeans, and the white cubs jersey with the top two buttons undone. It makes his tan darker, along with the crisp tank top underneath. The silver chain around his neck catches in the sun from its place of the soft patch of chest hair that you’re realizing is always on display. His feet are bare and it makes you shift from side to side like it’s something intimate.

“You look very easy on the eyes yourself Mr. Harrington.” You giggle and it makes him blush a furious red all the way to the tips of his ears.

Bandit whines impatiently behind Steve, his nails tapping against the wood floor.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. She’s coming in, calm down.” He opens the door a little more, turning around with one hand on the handle to usher the dog back to let you in. Your eyes catch his last name patched onto the back of his jersey like it's official. The realization that it probably is intimidates you.

It almost smells like the last time you were here, the rich cedar undertones are met with a hint of Bandit when you cross the threshold. He gives you a loud excited bark for good measure before his owner cuts him loose, shutting the door behind you. Steve doesn’t even try to stop him from jumping when you welcome him with open arms and a high pitched “hiii, handsome!”

Steve rolls his eyes dramatically when Bandit whines licking your face, but the smile he can’t fight gives him away.

“Alright, that’s enough. I didn’t even get my kiss yet buddy.” Steve chuckles, snapping his fingers making Bandit fall back on all fours in a huff.

I didn’t even get my kiss yet.

The words make your breath catch in your throat, Steve was going to kiss you again. He was just going to do that now, whenever he wants, and you’re gonna let him.

“Gettin’ jealous or somethin’ Steve?” You tease trying to hide the way he sets your skin on fire when his darkened eyes look at you like that.

“What if I am?” His voice drops to something new, something dirtier and it makes your thighs clench.

One of his hands finds its way to where your dress sinches and smooths out at your waist, while the other rests against the wood behind you. He takes the few steps that have your back pressing against the door, fingers squeezing softly at your side before he reaches up to cup your cheek in the warmth of his palm. Looking down over the sharp line of his nose, the pad of his thumb traces the sticky silk of your glossed bottom lip. He wonders what flavor it is today, he can’t wait to find out.

“I’d tell you to do something about it then.” It’s a little shy the way it comes out just above a whisper, meeting his gaze from under your lashes.

His nose brushes with yours, the mint from his toothpaste fanning cool against your cheeks. Needy fingers find their way to his belt loops giving him a gentle tug closer and it makes him grin, you let his lips be a phantom against yours, impatience winning when you pull him in.

It’s gentle at first and it feels like fireworks at the lake, like the butterflies from your first date. It’s when your hands slide up his chest and wrap around his neck that he presses his weight against you. His thumb pulls at your chin begging you to open up for him while his knee pushes its way between your legs. A week of being kept apart with nothing but thoughts of this has your tongues meeting greedy in the middle when you get lost in it. Spoiled with it. Noses press against cheeks and he can taste the tangerine that coats your lips in a sticky sweet mess.

He groans when you bite at his bottom lip, thick eyebrows marrying in the middle when he kisses you harder, his knee getting a little bolder, getting closer. He can feel the heat that radiates from between your thighs like this and he curses at how short your dress is. Were you trying to kill him? Irrational jealousy pangs in his chest at all the guys that’ll get to look at you like this today. Guys your age.

Bandit barks at something he sees outside making you both jump apart. Even with kiss bitten lips and a little dizzy from the lack of oxygen, you already miss him. He laughs quietly, pressing his forehead with yours the golden specs in his mossy eyes gleam feeling like a teenager again. All he wants to do is kiss you.

“I’ve been thinking about doing that all week if I’m being honest.” Steve confesses, long fingers finding yours, lacing them together like he needs you.

“I was terrible at my job this week, and it was definitely your fault.” You grin looking up at him like you love it.

The two of you stand there for a minute letting your eyes take in features that had started to soften in your memories. He smiles before bumping his nose with yours one more time, stealing a quick peck pulling away before you have a chance to kiss back smirking at your small pout.

“Let me get my shoes on and we’ll get out of here. We’ll get some dogs at Wrigley.” Steve calls over his shoulder, ruffling Bandit’s head on his way up the stairs.

“Dogs?” You snort under your breath so he can’t hear, your fingers finding their way back to Bandits fur scratching him behind his ears. You swear he’s smiling when he pants looking up at you with big friendly eyes.

You gaze towards his kitchen as you try to catch the breath he took with him up to his room, the memory of your almost first kiss feels like a lifetime ago. It’s not long before Bandit takes advantage of Steve’s absence, snorting playfully before he trots to the living room. Long nails click against the wood floors when he comes back making your heart swell when the stupid dancing banana you won at the block party sits in his mouth. Its stitched eye is already half gone, and an arm just barely hanging on.

“This your banana, cute guy?” You coo with a sweet smile, reaching out to accept his invitation to play tug of war with the plush toy.

You’re a mess of giggles when he starts ‘growling’ at you and trying to rip it from your grasp, pulling you forward every so often when he pushes back on his paws for an extra hard tug. Too lost in your own world, you don’t notice Steve watching from the top of the staircase. The necklace he bought last week burns a hole in his pocket, especially seeing you like this. He knows he’s already in love and it makes him want to laugh. Classic Steve. The hushed conversation he had with Eddie on the phone in his room lights a fire inside him.

“It’s a necklace, it’s not a ring Steve. I stopped waiting around for the ‘right’ time and now I’m tryna start a family with the love of my life. What sign are you looking for, big guy? She’s seen your darkest parts and she’s downstairs waiting for you.”

You looked too pretty in that dress not to be his.

You finally get the toy away from Bandit, throwing it far enough for his paws to slide in place for a second before he takes off after it. Too busy laughing at the way he shakes the toy from side to side when he finally gets it between his teeth, you don’t hear Steve come up behind you. The fresh spice of his cologne hitting your nose gives him away first, the big hands that grab at your waist to pull you against his chest, the second.

“Missed me?” He teases, pressing a kiss behind your ear that makes you shiver. He likes that he can do that.

“Not really, I was having a pretty good time with Bandit actually.” He can’t see your shit eating grin, but he knows it's there.

“Not even a little bit?” He presses with a smirk in his voice, his lips ghosting against the exposed skin of your shoulder. You can’t help but tilt your head, giving him more to kiss.

“Maybe,” You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, lashes fluttering when there’s a gentle nip at the dip of your neck. “Maybe a little bit.”

Steve smiles against your skin, humming in approval at your admission keeping you close for a few more minutes, and you realize you’d be more than happy to just do this the rest of the day.

“Before we head out, I uh - “ He clears his throat, going a little stiff against your back as he starts digging in his pocket, “I got you something.”

You feel the way his hands shake, and it makes you want to turn around but the grip on your hip only tightens to keep you in place.

“It’s easier to give it to you like this.” He mumbles, giving you a reassuring squeeze, your heart thumps wildly in your chest.

“Steve what are you -“ Your sentence dies on your tongue when you feel something dainty and cold wrap around your neck. Your fingers reach up instinctively and the tips of them meet the smoothness of a stone that dangles at the end of it. The necklace.

“I couldn’t help myself, I hope it’s o - you just said you liked it and -“ Steve’s a mess of nerves behind you while you look down, fingers toying with the stone, awestruck at the gesture. “If you think it’s weird I can -“

Turning around you cut him off with your lips, tangerine gloss in the form of appreciation makes him smile into the kiss. You keep it short this time, pulling away no matter how much your body screams for more. You start to think you’ll never have enough. Is this what it’s like to be in love?

“Steve, I love it” You whisper rolling back on your heels, your fingers already obsessed with touching the stone as you look up at him through your lashes. “Thank you.”

His cheeks turn to cherry blossoms, all the tense muscles in his shoulders relaxing, Eddie was right.

“Yeah?” He wants to hear you say it again, and he can tell by your grin and the glint in your eyes that you know he does too.

“Absolutely, I’m probably never going to take it off.” You giggle looking down in admiration again and it makes Steve feel like a million bucks. He never wants you to take it off either.

Steve doesn’t hesitate to grab your hand as you walk up to the main gates of Wrigley Field, fingers intertwining like he doesn’t want to let go when he shows the security guard his work badge and you suppress the urge to grab it from him when you make it inside. The urge to see the picture lessened knowing that the chances of it actually being bad were slim to none.

The stadium is intimidating when it’s empty, your mind reeling when you think of what it’s going to be like in an hour when the stands are filled with screaming fans. Concession stand workers bustle around the two of you in preparation for the onslaught of sports goers. Summer hangs heavy in the air with the sun high and bright in the cloudless sky. It smells of fresh cut grass, pop corn, and hot dogs. The perfect day for a baseball game.

Your eyes grow wide when they land on the bright green field that looks even bigger than on TV, it’s the kind of green you know can’t be real with crisp white lines that lead to each of the bases. There’s a few players out practicing, they wave at Steve when they notice him. His fingers squeeze yours tighter when one of them smiles a little too friendly in your direction. The memory of you in his car on the way here admiring the necklace in the visor keeps his jealousy at bay. You were his.

“You gonna give me the grand tour or somethin’?” You ask with eyes unable to focus on anything in particular, still mesmerized by how big it all was while the two of you head in a pointed direction.

“Just grabbing something out of my office for Richard, and then I’ll show you around.” Steve winks and the gesture makes your knees weak.

“Ooo I get to see your office?” You grin, bumping shoulders. It makes his cheeks push up.

“It’s nothin’ special, baby.” He chuckles, letting go of your hand, fingers curling around your hips to pull you into his side instead. Your heart skips a beat, looping your arms around his waist, still not used to his affection coming so effortlessly like he’s been doing this his whole life with you.

It feels like a maze while he leads you through the stadium, twists and turns down long back hallways, tight lipped greetings every time someone walks by throwing him a ‘Steve’ with a nod of their head. Their curious eyes always land on you tucked under his arm. Who is that? Your palms sweat at the thought of how Steve was going to introduce you. The gift around your neck makes your mind wander.

It’s when you get to an elevator that you decide there’s definitely no way you’d be able to find your way out of here alone. More than confused when the back of it is all windows overlooking the opposite side of the field you had come in from. Steve laughs from behind you as if he can read your mind, big hands finding their way to the metal bar, caging you in with your back against his chest.

It takes you to the very top with a loud ding before it drops a little and the metal doors slide open. He doesn’t let you get too far before he takes your hand again to lead you down a hallway. The white walls are lined with awards, plaques, and framed Sports Illustrated covers filled with faces of different baseball players, some you recognize and some you don’t, as you make your way to the very end. You try not to make eye contact with the few men who have their doors crack half way open.

“Just gotta find the plans for next season really quick, then we’ll go see Eddie’s guy Antonio. If I don’t buy hot dogs from him specifically, I’ll never hear the end of it.” Steve rolls his eyes at the last part but you catch the hint of a smirk playing at the edges of his lips as he unlocks his office door, pushing it open to let you in.

“I’m startin’ to think Eddie might be your boyfriend. Were you talkin’ to him in your room earlier? Does Peach know?” You tease looking up at him as you brush past, and you’re not surprised when the smell of cedar hits your nose again. The faint hint of cigar smoke creeping in underneath. Of course his office smells like him.

Steve’s eyes go wide, cheeks flushing pink when he realizes he wasn’t as quiet on the phone as he thought.

“I was just - I was just following up with him on something about my trip out there in a few days.” He stammers, making you giggle. You try not to think about the news of him leaving again so soon.

“Yeah, whatever you say, handsome.” You grin and it’s his turn to roll his eyes at you, the whites of his teeth showing in spite of himself.

“Ha ha, very funny.” He dead pans before making his way around his desk that just looks like a bigger version of the one in his house. An actual desktop replaces the sleek laptop. He clicks the mouse harshly before his long fingers work the keyboard.

It’s hard to tear your attention away from him but your curiosity gets the best of you. His office is huge, you think. Maybe the size of your whole apartment kinda huge, and it's just as nice as you thought it would be.

A giant window that overlooks the entire field takes up one whole wall, walking over you realize you’re so far back that it makes the grown men out there look small. Your chest tightens when you see how high up you are. The rest of the walls are decorated with similar pictures like his office at home, group shots of work retreats, team building dinners, shaking hands with people you’re sure are important in the sports world and he looks handsome in all of them.

There’s a baseball bat propped in the corner, and the image of him on his bluetooth swinging it around in his office while making a deal, makes a home inside your head and the dough of your thighs press. Glancing back over your shoulder at him, he’s too lost in whatever he’s searching for in his emails to notice the smirk on your face, his bright eyes squinting at the screen.

It’s heavier than expected when you grab it, the weight of it making it feel like a weapon in your hands. You do your best to remember what you’ve seen a few times on TV as you try to grip it how a real player would, before giving it a sloppy swing, your wrists almost giving out on the curve.

“Honey, you’re holding it all wrong.” You can hear the way he tries to suppress his laugh, the sound of his shoes hitting the carpet telling you he’s coming to assist.

“Oh yeah, Mr. Big League?” Regripping the wood again, you try your best to ignore him when he stops behind you, determined to do it without him.

“These nicknames, you need to stop. They aren’t very good.” He snorts, referring to the previous classic ‘Mr. Sports’.

That’s when he gets it. The first eye roll of the date. He thinks the first is always his favorite.

“I think it was the nicknames that got me the second date.” Grinning like an idiot you take another terrible swing.

“Jesus Christ, you’re gonna break your wrist.” The laugh he was trying to hide earlier comes out when his arms wrap around you from behind, big hands over yours holding the bat steady and it makes you forget how to breathe for a second.

Steve’s arms cage you in and it feels like he’s everywhere. The mint on his breath still smells fresh when the side of his face presses against the top of your head, hot breath fanning across your cheek. The muscles in his stomach twitch against your back, while the ones in his arms tense, squeezing you close as his fingers move over yours helping you tighten your hold. You can barely see your hand underneath his and your stomach flips at the sight.

He’s talking but you can’t focus on the words he’s saying, not when you can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs from the corner of your eye. The stubble on his jaw rubs against your temple as he tries to explain the proper stance on deaf ears. Pine form his body wash lingers on his skin, he overwhelms your senses but all you want is more. You can feel it in the way your body leans into him, the curve of your ass shameless against his denim.

“Okay, so that’s the grip. Now your stance, it’s all wrong.” His mouth is closer to your ear, lips ghosting along the shell of it demanding your attention. It’s as if he knows he doesn’t have any of it and all of it at once and you swear he gets closer, a subtle grind of his own hips in response to yours.

“I’m listening,” you say breathlessly. It gives you away, making his lips curve up into a smirk.

“I’m sure you are, baby.” The tip of his nose nudges behind your ear, while his fingers make a path down your arms, the pads of them dragging gently against your heated skin, callouses leaving goosebumps after them. Your breath catches before they curve around your sides, squeezing at where the dip of your hips meets the top of your thighs.

“Now, you wanna push back your hips a little.” His strong hold moves your body with ease, making your ass press hard against him and you feel that part of his body for the first time. His heart is beating so fast you can feel it. Thump, thump, thump.

“Like this?” you ask, innocence dripping from your tone. When you grind against him with more pressure you can feel just how big he really is – especially as his jeans begin to tighten.

“Fuck - baby.” It comes out a little desperate, like he’s warning you but his hold only tightens keeping you in place. “Yeah, just like that.”

It’s his hips that roll this time, and it makes your eyes hit the back of your head. Your fingers threaten to come loose around the bat, too distracted by the man behind you. Especially when his lips ghost a path up the side of your neck, hot and wet.

“I think it’d be easier if I could have something to lean on, you know? I just really wanna teach you right.” He nips at your earlobe and it makes you shiver, pressing yourself back against him hard enough to feel the zipper of his jeans between the fat of your ass cheeks.

“You’re the professional, who am I to say no to you?” You knew you were laying it on thick, but the groan it earns makes you swallow your pride with a press of your thighs.

You squeal when he yanks you back, dropping the baseball bat to the ground with a low thud. Your giggles fill the usually quiet office and he wishes he could have you here all the time. He takes a couple long strides backwards before he hits the front of his desk, pulling you onto his lap as he sits on top of it. His hands get greedy when they reach around to grab at the tops of your thighs, the material of your dress bunching up underneath them, revealing more new skin to him. He wonders if you can feel just how hard you already have him.

“Despite not watching, like, any sports, something tells me this can’t be right, Steve.” You smirk, another giggle slipping out when you feel his smile against your neck.

“Like you would know.” He scoffs, his hands find their way back to your hips, encouraging another roll from them. The little gasp he earns makes him twitch in his pants. “Yeah?”

You nod with a ‘mmhmm’, eyes closing when he does it again. Tangerine on your tongue when you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, your hands finding a home on the tops of his thighs. You grind against him like you mean it, like you’re not playing along with whatever game this was before.

“God, - shit, baby, this dress. This fuckin’ dress. Do you even know what you’re doing to me?” His lips get sloppy on your neck, tongue and teeth nipping on sensitive stubble rubbed skin.

Knock, knock, knock

You both jump at the same time, hearts hammering in your chests. The feeling of being close still makes your body buzz at high frequencies as you try to recover from the last five minutes.

“Steve?” The familiar voice is muffled behind the closed door.

You watch Steve readjust his pants to try and hide the obvious, a nervous hand running through his hair before he answers. You make him feel like a fucking teenager.

“Hey Richard,” The husk from Steve’s voice is gone as he looks at you to make sure you’re ready for company.

Tugging the hem of your dress down, you pull the straps back onto your shoulders giving him a quick nod, cheeks burning and underwear a mess.

“Come on in.”

Richard strikes again.

Steve takes one last look at you, dark eyes that eat you alive while his tongue rolls in against the inside of his cheek. Eyebrows marry together in a mixture of annoyance and lust when he realizes just how close he’d gotten to everything he wants.

The door creaks and it wouldn’t be so loud if it wasn’t so quiet. A tentative Richard steps into the room, brown eyes looking back and forth and you wonder if he can tell he interrupted something. You try to control your breathing, turning towards the window after you give him a friendly smile to try and hide the way your chest heaves.

You hate Richard.

“So we meet again.” He jokes trying to break the ice. Yeah, he knows.

Steve gives him a tight lipped smile pushing himself off the desk with another hand through his hair, the soft thuds of his shoes filling the beat of silence as he walks back behind his desk.

“I was just finishing printing out those spreadsheets for you.” Steve clears his throat and it makes your lips twitch, your eyes getting lost in the green field below you.

You can’t bring yourself to face his boss like this, again.

“Great! I’ll take them now. I was just coming up here to see if you and your lady were coming to the pre-game drinks at The Barrel Room downstairs, some of the guys wanna run some things by you.” You can hear Richard scratch the back of his neck when Steve doesn’t answer immediately.

Steve wants you alone. Now.

“You know I hate to mix business with games, but they really wanna meet the guy behind the marketing.” He adds, telling Steve it’s really not an option to say anything other than ‘yes’.

“Sure, sure. The game doesn’t start for another hour anyway.” Steve gives, and you meet his eyes from over your shoulder with a small smile that says it’s okay.

Despite the no smoking sign, the smell of cigars linger on most of the men in the members only bar under the field. Your summer dress feels out of place in a room full of business men dressed in their expensive casual attire. Their expensive cologne mixes with the sting of whiskey that’s over a sphere of ice in most of their glasses. Lit by a dimmed chandelier, small TV’s line the space over the bar with live feeds of the field and ESPN. The nicest sports bar you’ve ever seen.

Steve keeps a tight hold on your hand when he orders you both glasses of champagne and a bottle to be delivered to the suite, winking at you when he picks the sweet option.

“I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t think I’d be doing anything for work today.” He lets go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist pulling you to his side. His soft lips kiss your temple as a second apology.

“It’s fine, it’s actually kinda hot seeing you like this.” Looking up at him from under your lashes, you love the way it makes the tips of his ears turn pink.

“Oh yeah?” He grins, the green in his eyes threaten to turn black when his hand slides a little lower, the tips of his fingers touching just above the curve of your ass. They twitch with the urge to squeeze.

“Yeah.” It’s quiet, just for him to hear, dripping honey like in his office. You turn your body towards him, pressing yourself closer with a palm running up his chest, fingers playing with buttons when you bite your bottom lip into a smile.

The low groan you get vibrates from his chest, his hand daring to go a little lower, pulling you even closer.

Clink, clink

The bartender slides the two flutes over, popping you both out of your bubble right as someone clears their throat behind you.

“Steve, they're over there in the corner. They just need maybe ten minutes of your time and then I’ll get out of your hair.” Richard’s voice breaks you two apart but Steve still keeps a hand on the small of your back as he hands your glass over, the popping and fizzing of the bubbles inside making it shimmer rose gold in the low light.

“Sure, I’ll follow you.” He takes a sip before bringing his eyes back to yours, the blunt ends of his nails scratch lightly against your back, giving you his undivided attention. “You gonna be okay for a little bit?”

“I’m a big girl, handsome.” You smirk around the edge of your glass, all the blood rushing to your cheeks when he looks at you like that.

“I know you are, baby.” The smile that takes over his face knocks the air out of your lungs. Steve presses a kiss to your forehead before he follows Richard to the two men across the room who are looking eager to meet the man you can’t get enough of.

Ten minutes turns to twenty and another glass of champagne, your eyes meeting Steve’s every so often across the room in a silent apology. This second glass is enough to make your skin come alive, fingertips buzzing and nerves melting. The bubbles tickle your lips when you take another sip, the strap of your dress falling down your shoulder at the same time.

Licking your lips, the sweetness of your gloss mixes perfectly with the fruity hints of the champagne and it makes you give a quiet ‘mmm!’ when it hits your taste buds. Setting your drink down, you can feel him staring as you fix your dress. Your fingers wrap around the soft material, and you dare to meet his eyes again. The green forest you’re so used to getting lost in is replaced by the kind of darkness you’ve only seen in the night sky, the kind where the moon hides the stars in its depths. The men surrounding him are talking but he’s not paying attention, his sole focus is on you.

The two glasses of champagne makes you feel bold. Holding his stare, you move slowly when you pull it back to its home on the top of your shoulder. Soft fingertips drag across your skin, leaving the kind of goosebumps he usually gets and it makes his jaw clench. He needed to get out of here.

He knocks back the rest of his glass, saying something to the men that have stolen enough of his time from you. He finally excuses himself with a few strong handshakes and that million dollar smile. The one that always makes your thighs press. Running a hand through his hair as he pushes through the crowded bar, his eyes stay locked on yours, heavy lidded and hungry and it makes your stomach do flips.

“Ready to pay attention to me?” You pretend to pout when you turn around to face him. When you lean back on your elbows he can’t help but take in everything you’re offering him.

Big hands grab at your waist, pulling you against his chest. He’s got a lopsided salt and pepper grin when he dips his head down to skim his nose along your jaw before his lips stop right at your ear. They twitch when he feels the way it makes you shiver.

“More than you know, baby.”

The suite is somehow even nicer than you’d imagined it’d be, the kind of nice that makes you giggle when you take it all in. Flat screen TV’s hang from two separate places on the exposed brick walls. The bottle of champagne he’d ordered earlier sits chilled in a bucket on the marble countertop in the small kitchen with two glasses. The stainless steel fridge that you’re sure is fully stocked shines in the bright, low hanging lights.

The open concept leads to a living room area, a dark gray leather couch sitting in the middle looking way too comfortable for something like this. It faces a giant window that overlooks first base, high enough in the stadium for no one to be around you and gives out to a balcony with four seats to watch the game outside.

“Jesus Christ.” You laugh wandering around the new space, fingertips touching the cool leather of the couch as you look at one of the TV’s that hang over it. A crystal clear image of the game getting ready to start just outside. The empty stands were completely filled while you were busy in the boys club downstairs.

“Yeah, it’s a little ridiculous.” Steve chuckles, the loud pop of the champagne being opened echoes in the big space. “I never watch games in the suites. Me and Ed are always in the stands. I was actually a little surprised when Richard offered it.”

Maybe Richard wasn’t that bad.

You can hear the way the bubbles fizz when he pours you each a glass, neither of you speaking. The realization you were finally alone hangs thick in the air. No more interruptions. The crowd cheers outside when the announcer booms through the speakers that line the outside of the field. The sounds of the game starting cuts through the tension like a knife. Steve clears his throat behind you, making you jump a little.

“Sorry, honey,” He smiles, trying not to laugh as he hands you a glass.

“Champagne and hot dogs? Steve, I think you’re trying to get me to fall in love with you,” you say, a part of you that feels like it’s already too late. You are in love with him.

“I still can’t believe you asked Antonio for ketchup, shoulda taken a picture of his face.” Steve snorts, cheeks turning pink at your words.

“Normal people eat their hot dogs with ketchup, Steve. I’ll ask for ketchup at every hot dog establishment in this city. I don’t care.” You roll your eyes at him for the second time today, and he thinks he’ll get a lot more of those by the end of the night as you keep sipping your sweet drink.

“I’ll make sure not to be there when you do.” Steve winks smiling over the edge of his glass and it makes you just as flustered as the first time.

“Whatever, it’s a stupid.” You mumble turning back towards the window because looking at him was becoming too much you– fingers twitching to touch him, your lips pouting just to kiss him.

You set your drink down on the coffee table, the buzz from before coming back when the alcohol breaks through the food you had on your way up here. The nerves in your stomach become a mess as you walk up to the thick glass. The game he was supposed to teach you was already in full swing below. The tight baseball uniforms have you imagining what Steve would’ve looked like iand the thought is enough to make the softness of your thighs meet.

Steve sets his glass down next to yours, licking his lips as he gets to take in the way your dress wraps around your curves. You can feel the heat of his stare on you and it makes you shiver, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. You try to focus on the game and not the way he comes up behind you. He smells like whiskey and summer, the fruity notes from the champagne coming out in the breath that fans down your neck in a mixture of Steve.

“Speaking of rules.” The husk in his voice is back, and the tip of his nose nudges behind your ear. He can’t see the way it makes your eyes hit the back of your head, but he can hear the way it makes your breath catch as his lips brush that sensitive spot on your neck.

“Yeah, some teacher you are. The game, the-“ you stutter when his hands find their way to your hips, squeezing before they move down, long fingers spreading wide over your thighs. “The game’s already started.” You manage to breathe out, giving into him pulls you against him.

He’s already hard again, and he’s barely touched you. The feeling of your body, with only the thin material of your dress keeping his hands from what’s underneath, sends his brain into orbit, especially when he feels the slow grind of your hips searching for more.

“You actually gonna listen to me?” Steve asks with lips so close to your ear that it almost makes you whimper. All you can do is nod, and he relishes in the way your eyelids get heavy when he hums ‘hmm?’ to ask you again.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll listen.” You can’t find it yourself to care how you sound a little desperate.

One hand stays on the curve of your hip, while the tips of his fingers on the other trace over the goosebumps already blooming on the exposed skin of your thigh. They catch the bottom hem of your dress, dragging the soft material up with them. Wet lips leave sloppy kisses along your neck, smiling against the curve of it when he feels the way you spread for him, silently granting him permission.

“So, the umpire is the guy crouched behind the hitter,” He whispers, as he keeps moving up at a pace so slow it almost makes you stomp your feet, tempted to throw a fit to make him touch you. “He keeps track of the pitches, the swings and misses. Three strikes, you’re always out.”

He reaches the lace edges of your panties, and it makes him twitch in his pants. How dare you?

“Fuck - baby.” He dips a finger underneath, tugging the material lightly before letting it snap back against your hip. “You wear these for me?”

“Maybe.” You smirk, arching your back so your ass rubs against him in a way that makes his grip on your hip turn bruising. He exhales a deep breath through his nose to try and regain control.

“Maybe?” He tsks while the hand under your dress gets bolder, the pads of his fingers brushing over the heat between your legs, groaning when he feels the way you’re already soaked through them. “This doesn’t feel like a maybe.”

“I’m missing the game because -“ You gasp when he dares to push them to the side, a thick middle finger swiping through your folds, moaning at how you feel like silk..

“Because?” He practically purrs as he circles your bundle of nerves with a pointed pressure, like he already knows just what to do to make you fall apart.

He feels even bigger pressing hard against your ass like this. Your hips roll to meet the motions of his finger, offering him a little relief when his hips meet yours at the same pace.

“You’re -you’re not teaching me.” Your jaw goes slack when another finger starts circling your entrance, lashes fluttering against your cheeks.

“Well, you’re not looking.” He’s smug, especially when he dares to push the tip of his finger in just enough to stretch you out, earning a gasp.

The crack of the bat meeting the ball makes your eyes snap open. The loud cheer of the crowd is enough to make the ground shake underneath you. Steve uses the distraction as his opening to slide the first two knuckles of his finger inside you. Your hand comes down to wrap around his wrist, a small whine escaping you when he pushes it all the way in. He braces himself against the window when your hips start to roll, helping him work you open. Every movement of his hand brings you closer against him to meet in the best kind of friction.

“See, your eyes are closed, honey.” You can feel his grin when he nips at your jaw, the middle finger on your clit being replaced with the pad of his thumb when he has it join in stretching you more for him.

Opening your eyes is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, especially when he already has you feeling so full with just two of his fingers. They flutter open with every ounce of your strength you have left, and he hums in approval when he sees them again.

“Good girl.” His praise makes you clench around him and he’ll never forget it as he starts littering kisses along your shoulders, the strap of your dress falling down again. “Now he didn’t get a home run, but the bases are loaded. Do you know what that means?”

The deep baritone in the way he’s talking to you makes it even easier for his fingers to keep up their pace, coating them in even more slick when it vibrates against your ear.

“No- oohhh,” Moaning when his thumb adds the kind of pressure that threatens to make your knees buckle. He grinds himself against you with a little more force, never this close to cumming in his pants since high school.

He grunts, his cool facade breaking when you meet his hips, circling slow when you feel him push between your ass cheeks again.

“It’s when the hitting team has a member - god, baby, you feel that? So fucking wet.” He pauses so he can hear the mess you're making of his hand.

“There’s a player on every base, so if he can hit it far enough and they can all make it to home base, they’ll gain the lead - You’re so damn tight.” Steve doesn’t know if he can even do what he’s asking of you anymore, too lost in the feeling of the velvet of your walls wrapped around his fingers and what it’s going to feel like when he finally gets to be inside of you.

All you do is nod, the coil in your stomach tightening in a way you’ve never felt before. Your grip on his wrist tightens, and the muscles tense as he keeps working you to the edge. The thrust of his hips against you becomes shameless as he chases his own end.

Another loud crack of a bat catches your attention, you can barely see the baseball as it soars far over the field. Bouncing off of the back wall when no one catches it, the players on their respective bases start making a run for it, making the crowd go wild.

“You gonna cum for me, pretty?” He asks leaving open mouth kisses anywhere he can reach, teeth nipping at sensitive skin while his fingers curl, the tips of them hitting the spot that makes you see white. Your eyes catch the silver around your neck in the reflection of the window and it's enough to make you give in.

“Ohmygod, Steve - fuck, yes, yes, daddy, yes.”

He doesn’t know if it’s how your voice raises a pitch when you call him daddy or if it’s the way you reach behind him shamelessly trying to work him through his jeans, but it’s enough for his own body to go rigid. He moans loud enough to drown out the crowd, and you feel the warmth of his release under your palm. Your own washes over you hard enough to make your legs shake. You clench around his fingers that struggle to keep up their pace, but still relentless in their mission to keep you falling apart for him. You give him another squeeze through his pants and it makes him whine overstimulated against your neck.

The sound of the sports broadcasters vibrates from the speakers of the TV, signaling the switching of teams with the Cubs in the lead for the first inning. When Steve can finally see straight, the realization of what just happened makes his cheeks tinge the darkest shade of red. You made him cum his fucking pants. The day of touching and teasing took just as much of a toll on him as it did you. Your walls still flutter with every twitch of his fingers still buried inside of your heat, and he swears his dick threatens to get hard again.

He’s gentle when he pulls himself out of you, pressing soft kisses with sweet words against your cheek when you whimper a little at the feeling of being empty again.

“How’s my tough girl?” He whispers nose nudging your cheek as he puts your underwear back the way he found it, tugging down the bottom of your dress before turning you around to finally face him.

Your body still buzzes like a live wire, no one making you cum that hard from just their fingers before. The men your age always want to move so quickly. Steve’s eyes are still glazed over with a post orgasm glow, cheeks flushed, hair mused and all you wanted to do was kiss him.

“Feeling like an expert in baseball.” You giggle, and it makes him throw his head back giving you one of those deep bellied laughs you love so much.

You don’t wait anymore, pushing up on your toes - your lips meet his in an explosion of things you want to say but can’t. Not yet. He doesn’t hesitate to meet with the same eagerness, pushing you up against the window with a big hand coming up to your cheek, his thumb coaxing you open with a pull on your chin.

That feeling stayed with you the rest of the day, the two of you attempting to watch the game in between kisses cuddled on the couch and teaching of rules that you claimed were stupid just to get him to scoff. It swelled in your chest the whole car ride home, your fingers fiddling with the stone dangling from your neck and his hand finding a home on the top of your thigh.

You almost let it spill when he walked you to your door, kissing you stupid in your narrow hallway despite the sticky thick humidity. He watches the way you silently battle with the urge to invite him in, and despite everything inside of him wanting to just get lost in you for the rest of the night, he couldn’t have you like that once and leave. So he keeps kissing you by your door until sweat drips from your pores and your dress gets rucked up to your hips again. Promising you his time when he gets back, eyes gleaming with sincerity with his forehead against yours.

Yeah, you were in love with Steve Harrington.

———————————————————————

beta’d by @chechelia thank you ily ♥️

dividers by @chechelia

🌇 -> chapter ten

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obsessedelusional · 7 months

Text

bane of your existence

paring ↬ Abby Anderson x fem!reader

summary ↬ Isaac pairs you with hard headed, Abby Anderson. She can’t keep a patrol partner to safe her life. That is until she meets you, the two of you slowly become close. Maybe a little too close because apparently everyone thinks the two of you are an item.

word count ↬ 2k

authors note ↬ first Abby oneshot omg!! I am so far up Abby Andersons ass that legally I have no choice but to write for her. Here’s a cute lil fluffy moment. I got more stuff in the works, hope y’all enjoy ᜊ☻︎

Feedback & Reblogs are helpful and extremely appreciated!! ((poorly proofread))

⊹ �� ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

“Wake up.”

You groan and turn your back to insufferable voice that wakes you up way too damn early everyday. It’s a lost cause there’s a pair of hands shaking you gently. Which is strange because normally they’re a lot rougher with you.

“What time is it?” You ask still not facing her.

“5:45.”

“We don’t have to be there till eight. Why are you awake so damn early?” You snap, sitting up in your bunk. Facing the bane of your existence, Abby Anderson. Or so you pretend secretly enjoying her constant annoyance.

“Couldn’t sleep. So I thought it’d be best we head out early to catch the scars off guard.” Abby explains, stood there arms crossed looking down at you.

—

Three months ago the two of you we’re partnered for patrol. You didn’t know much about her before that, only the negative comments you heard from coworkers. Abby didn’t have the nicest personality and that often rubbed people the wrong way. Her hard headed ways make her nearly impossible to work with. Doesn’t help her case that when she’s not working she alone in some corner of the base, nose in a book. Often ignoring anyone’s attempt at a conversation. Only friendly to the people she joined the WLF with and half those relationships strained by the past.

Isaac thought your positive attitude would rub off on Abby. Buttering you up with compliments about your ability to not take anyones shit, calling you stubborn without using the word. Then talking about how she’s been through several partners in the last year, the longest lasting less than a month. Ever since Manny left his position to do something else, leaving her alone.

By the end he was borderline begging and following it up with apologies. You walked out of his office filled with curiosity about this mysterious women. The next day Abby was in your room uninvited and waking you up way too early. Somehow you’ve lasted this long and now you’re roommates. Manny moving out of bunk to be with his girlfriend and you having no roommate, Isaac made the decision to room you two together. Which only made Abby’s presence more constant.

Which is fine for the most part, you’d never admit it but part of you enjoys it. The constant bickering is fun and sometimes Abby lets a side of her personality slip you’ve never seen before. The two of you unintentionally becoming friends, which Abby would never say out loud. She even started hanging out with your friends. Probably spending an entirely too much time together, people began to take notice.

—

You stand up from your bed and make the short walk to your dresser, finding your work clothes for the day. Abby sits in a chair, fumbling with her backpack as an attempt to not watch you undress. You had caught Abby’s eyes lingering one second too long the first week. You looked back at Abby and her eyes were so obviously on your ass. She looked up a second later and saw you smirking. That was the end of that and now she does everything in her power to not get caught. Today you quickly get ready, sensing Abby’s eagerness to leave.

“Hurry up.” She says as you’re almost done.

“Why are you in such a hurry? We’re going to be two hours early at this point.” You ask, irritated.

“Quit complaining.” She spits.

“Quit being such a hard ass.” You spit back. Abby only rolls her eyes in response, so you add: “I don’t want to hear shit about my bad attitude today.”

“You always have a bad attitude.” Abby says, with a small grin.

“Do not.” You scoff at her comment.

“Do too.”

“Never did before. I think you’re starting to rub off on me. Or maybe it’s cause I keep getting waken up before my alarm has a chance to go off.” You explain, grabbing your backpack and pulling it on.

“What? You don’t like waking up early?” Abby ask, playfully already knowing the answer. Part of her loving to hear you complain.

“No.”

“Morning patrols aren’t that bad. You wake up early get off early. Have the rest of the day to do stuff.” Abby explains, trying to make you feel better.

“Yeah maybe. But I usually end up working even longer because you want to get out of here early. An eight hour shift turns into a nine or ten hour shift. One day you had me out there for twelve hours Abby.” You retort, bitterness heavy in your tone.

“You are the moodiest person in this entire base.” Abby says.

“Wasn’t before.” You speak flatly causing Abby to smile, getting closer.

“You’re such a brat.” She says, smile never leaving her mouth.

“Whatever. I know you like it.” You respond, smiling back at Abby.

“How bout we make a deal? You try to not be a brat today and I’ll try to not be such a hard ass.” Abby suggests, laughing as she squeezes your cheeks together as if you were a child.

“I don’t think I’m capable.” You speak. Abby’s hands smooshing your cheeks together. Pulling away to put one finger on your lips, shushing you.

“Just try, okay?” Abby asks, looking down at you with a pout and those damn eyes that’ll get you to do anything.

“Ughh I guess but only since you asked so nicely.” You respond suddenly hitting you that Abby is being way nicer than normal. What is her deal today?

“Really?” She grins.

“Yes let’s go.” Abby chuckles and then grabs your hand, gently nudging you forward. She’s slowly become more touchy since the two do you met but this takes it to a whole another level. When the two of you leave the room she doesn’t let go. You let the both of you walk a few feet before stopping in your tracks and looking at your hands intertwined.

“Are you holding my hand?” You question, causing Abby to realize and her face goes pink.

“Huh? Oh.. uhm.. I guess I am.” She awkwardly smiles, still not letting go.

“I mean I don’t mind. Just know you wouldn’t want to give everybody the wrong impression.” You respond, slightly traumatized from the first time you tried to sit with her in the mess hall and she went off on you about how she didn’t want anyone to think you were her friend.

“Pfft. They already think we’re in a relationship, or we will be sometime soon. What’s the harm in holding your hand?” Abby says casually, rolling her eyes as if your concern is ridiculous. She attempts to keep walking but you’re stood still, not willing to end this conversation so soon.

“They think that?” You ask.

“Yeah, they do. You should hear them gossiping during dinner. It’s all about us.” Abby says looking down at you and laughing slightly.

“How have I never heard this?” You question.

“It’s because you always head directly for you bunk room to rest after dinner. They’ll start talking about us as soon as you leave.” She explains as if this isn’t a big deal.

“What else do they say?”

“Oh. Uhm... they mainly talk about your... uh.... assets.. yeah.. that’s it.” She blushed slightly thinking about it.

“My assets? Ew.” You cringe at the thought.

“Hey I think your... ‘assets’ are fine.” She smirks, face somehow more red than before. You eyes go wide in response, it’s a rare occasion that Abby says something nice. Let alone a compliment that borders on flirting.

“Are you flirting with me?” You ask because you never know with her and you need to desperately make sense of what’s happening.

“Errr.. ummmm.. no I am not.” She nervously looks away, couldn’t help but start chuckling at her own awkwardness.

“Abby Anderson. You totally-.” You say, teasingly poking at her chest. She puts her hands over your mouth as an attempt to shush you.

“They probably think that because we work together, hang out and live together. We’re always together.” She explains trying to change the subject from her flirty comment.

“Or do they think this because you said something? Planted it in there head.” You ask, teasing as you pull Abby’s hand away from your mouth.

“Ok I may have said something. Which turned it into a whole thing.” She admits.

“Something?” You ask curiously.

“They were making some crude comments about your body. And one of them joked that I would know. I may or may not have agreed that I would know.” Abby explains, part of her embarrassments that she entertained them for even a second. In the end being grateful because them think you two were an item got them to shut up. The teasing now focused on Abby, wanting to know more about said relationship that didn’t actually exist.

“Are you mad..?” She looks at you, still holding your hand as you both walked down a long staircase to an area outside of the stadium.

“No it’s kinda cute.” You smile.

“You think it’s cute that they all think we’re in love?” She laughs.

“Yeah but just because you made them think that. No wonder Manny’s been teasing me about you.” You explain, connecting the dots as you speak.

“He’s been teasing you?”

“Yeah always telling me my *girlfriends* looking for me. Shit like that.”

“Your girlfriend?!” She grins at the thought before adding. “Well I am looking for you all the time.”

“Apparently you’re obsessed with me.” You joke, laugh leaving your mouth.

“I am. Just a little bit.” Abby responds, leading you out of the stadium and to where everyone starts patrols. Still holding your hand. As the two of you exit the stadium, you notice that Isaac is standing outside with a small group of people. He immediately takes notice of the two of you holding hands. Making a face as he looked back at the patrol, saying something inaudible to the them.

“Oooh does Abby have a girlfriend?” Manny hollers before laughing. Abby’s face is filled with so many emotions and before you can say anything Isaac’s say something.

“It’s about damn time. I was starting to think the two of you didn’t have feelings for each other after all.” He smiles.

“Can we start this patrol so I can stop be the center of attention?” Abby asks, ignoring everything everyone’s said.

“Or so you two can be alone?” Manny teases, causing everyone to laugh.

“Shut up.” Abby growls, pulling you away from everyone. You wave goodbye at everyone as Abby drags you away to start the patrol. Manny gives you two thumbs up which only adds to Abby’s irritation.

“You never answered. Do you have a girlfriend?” You ask teasing, curious about her answer.

“I don’t know. Do I?”

“You’re gonna have to ask for yourself and find out.” You tease causing Abby to groan outloud.

“You’re really gonna make me ask?” She asks, followed by rolling her eyes.

“Yeah.” You smirk, wanting the word to come out Abby’s mouth.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” She says annoyed.

“Mmm I’ll have to think about it.” You joke, watching Abby get more annoyed. “Just kidding yeah.” You laugh, finally bringing a smile to Abby’s face. Before you could register what’s happening Abby is stopped, pressing her lips into yours. You kiss back for a few moments, Abby eventually being the one to pull away.

“That was amaizng.” Abby purrs.

“Mhmm.” You smile, nodding.

“Just cause we’re dating now. Don’t think I’m gonna be any less of a hard ass.” Abby says, going back to her annoying self.

“We’ll see about that.” You tease, walking ahead of Abby. Abby grabs your wrist pulling you back to her. Abby grins kissing you again, knowing damn well she’d do whatever you asked.

#abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby tlou #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou #tlou2

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loveharlow · 2 months

Text

SEVEN - 002

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[6.5k] based on 1x02.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of parental neglect, mild violence, mentions of death/grief, disturbance of a graveyard (?)

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ I've been wanting to do an OBX rewrite for a very long time so here it is, the first chapter from yours truly.

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

“DO YOU REALLY THINK BIG JOHN COULD STILL BE ALIVE?” Kiara’s slightly digitally distorted voice came from the other end of the line. Your phone was pressed between your ear and shoulder as you searched the hangers in your closet, bath towel wrapped snug around your frame and your hair thrown up into a bun, which was presenting more like a mess of damp strands.

“It doesn’t matter what we think, Kie,” You made clear, eyeing a cute shirt you thought you’d lost. “We should just be there for him.”

“Yeah… but what if we’re just feeding into a fantasy? Wouldn’t that make us bad friends if we weren’t honest with him?” You could hear her shuffling around on the other end of the phone as well, dresser drawers slamming occasionally.

“Maybe you’re right.” You sighed, throwing your outfit onto your bed and heading back into the closet to find a bikini to wear underneath. Living in the Outer Banks meant you had a plethora to choose from. “But the way I see it? If it were my dad that went missing, I’d be looking for him too. I’d give anything to even have that small hope that my dad was still alive back, but I know he isn’t… so, I understand.”

“I didn’t think about it like that…” It was sad to hear her so conflicted, as if she’d said the wrong thing.

“Well, I wouldn’t expect you to. And I would never want you to be able to understand that feeling. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.” You reassured, putting the girl on speaker to toss the phone on your bed and slipping the bikini you picked out onto your frame and tying the respective knots. “That’s why if John B thinks his dad is alive and wants to look for him? That’s what we’re gonna do. Because alive or not, John B is like a brother to me and leaving him to do this alone is what would make us bad friends.”

“I guess you’re right…are you still meeting up with the guys today?”

“Just J and John B for right now. Pope said he’d be around later after helping his pops.” You told her, slipping an oversized shirt over top of the bikini, eyeing your closet shelves for a pair of shorts.

“Alright, I might swing by if my parents aren’t up my ass about work.” She complained. “Talk to you later.”

“Later.” Was all you said before the end-call sound rang out in the expanse of your bedroom.

A swift series of knocks met your closed door from the other side, you shouted for them to come in, assuming it was either your mother or your dog Marley’s tail hitting the wood. The 2-year-old golden retriever had a knack for sitting outside your bedroom door on the rare occasion that it was closed and she wasn’t inside.

The knob twisted and in walked your mother, adorned in her signature navy blue pencil skirt and blazer, still a half hour to spare before she had to head off to her office for work. Rebecca Reyes was the Outer Banks’ most notable and renowned lawyer. Even when you still lived on The Cut all those months ago, she was still the island's number one defender. Moving to Figure Eight and getting rich, almost overnight, just gave her the resources she needed. You still questioned where all the money spawned from, chopping it down to your father’s life insurance coming through.

But the bank said that could take a while and you never assumed it was enough to buy a house on Figure Eight. But that’s adult stuff, you thought to yourself.

“You got home late yesterday,” She began bluntly, adjusting the diamond bracelet on her wrist. The smell of her expensive perfume already wafting into your space. “Where were you?”

“Just out with John B and the others.” You said with a shrug, walking out the closet with a pair of sneakers in your hands as you undid the tied laces.

She hummed, eyeing the space around you as if she’d never seen it before. “Did you hear about the boat they’re searching for? Scooter Grubbs’ boat?”

You side eyed her quickly, not quick enough for her to catch however. “Yeah, the whole island is losing their minds over it.”

“You and your friends haven’t come across anything, have you?”

“...I doubt we’d have any luck coming across a Grady-White, mom. Especially after the hurricane. That boat could be oceans away for all we know.”

“Right.” She agreed, but she seemed far away. Off. Why’d she care about Scooter Grubbs’ boat? “And what’s this I hear about some kid with a gun at The Point?” Your heart dropped.

“A gun?” You acted semi-shocked. “I don’t know, I wasn’t there.”

“Hm.” She droned. “Well, if you find anything don’t hesitate to tell me. Or Shoupe, for that matter. He said two out of towners showed up for the boat search yesterday, looked sketchy. So, be careful.”

You hummed in agreement, watching as the woman strutted out of the room without even a small ‘goodbye’.

You and your mother were nowhere near as close as you used to be. Your father’s passing caused a rift between the two of you that seemed irreparable. You just felt like she had become so cold and closed off, nothing like the woman who used to bake every weekend or plan family nights in the backyard. She was more secretive, dismissive. You couldn’t even remember what her smile looked like. She’d changed so much. She used to hate Sheriff Shoupe, said he was a dirty cop who worked under the rich snobs of Figure Eight. Now, it’s like they’re business partners of some sort and she is a rich snob on Figure Eight.

She even changed her last name back after your father died and wouldn’t tell you why. That was what made you feel the most alone. Rebecca Carter was now Rebecca Reyes but you were still Y/N Carter and your father would always be Owen Carter.

It was like she was trying to erase him and everything they’d built together.

You hated to admit that sometimes you wondered what your father would think of the woman she’s become. If she would be as unrecognizable to him as she is to you.

YOU SAT IN THE BACK OF THE VAN, legs bent as your journal rested atop your thighs while you scribbled down your thoughts and recent events — namely the events of yesterday. You had one earbud in, your playlist on shuffle as you half-listened into JJ and John B’s conversation that was happening in the front seat, the bumpy ride making your handwriting a bit chicken scratch-ish.

“I don’t understand why you don’t at least try with Kiara,” JJ started, his heavy boots kicked up on the dashboard. “She clearly likes you. She’s like ‘Oh, John B!’. She’s sketchy about you diving and then she kissed you, bro.” The blonde continued.

“She kissed me on the cheek. It’s not like we were makin’ out.” John B denied, brushing off the girl’s clear affections.

“Low-hanging fruit, bro.” JJ cut him off, the statement making you cringe in silence as you continued to scribble. “I see it in your eyes. You’re like ‘I kind of like that’.” JJ said in a mockingly low and seductive voice.

“Okay, you want to talk about me?”

“Yeah, bro, I wanna talk about you and your lack of game.”

“My lack- my lack of game? Okay, what game do you have, JJ? ‘Cause I haven’t seen any improvement in your case.” JJ’s head whipped between you and the boy in the driver’s seat within milliseconds before he was swatting John B’s arm.

“C’mon, dude...” He warned in a hushed tone. John B just chuckled.

“That’s what I thought.”

Moments of silence passed before their voices were heard again. “I gotta admit, your dad’s compass in Scooter’s boat? Freaky, man…” JJ claimed, twirling the newfound object between his fingers.

“That’s why we’re going to talk to Ms. Lana and figure this whole thing out. She’s his wife, she has to know something.” John B told him.

“And what makes you think she would want to talk to us?” You added, spooking the blonde boy in the passenger seat.

“How long have you been listen-”

“I’m always listening.” You spoke bluntly, a blank expression on your face as you averted your attention from your journal to him. “Anyway,” you dismissed. “A group of teenagers showing up to ask her about her dead husband, the boat that the whole island is looking for, and the compass we found inside of said dead husband’s lost boat? She’ll either think we’re criminals, FBI, or crazy.”

“Well, this is our first resort.” John B replied, eyes looking at you through the rearview. “We gotta try.”

“KNOW WHAT THIS HOUSE LOOKS LIKE?” JJ said, leading the group of us to the front yard of Lana Grubbs’ residence. “Whoever lives here smokes too much weed.” He observed the small, shack-like house — the walls were overgrown with weeds, the yard looked like it’d never been cut, the place was a mess from the outside.

The three of you stopped, more like flinched, in your tracks when you heard glass-shattering from the inside of the house followed by crash after crash. It sounded like the outside of a rage-room or a gun range.

“Maybe we should come back…” JJ advised, taking small steps back. But John B persisted, even as the two of you stood back in fear.

“No, no, shut up, JJ.” John B reprimanded absentmindedly.

“Tell me where it is or I’ll fuck you up!” A deep, brassy voice boomed from the inside. The voice so authoritative it made you shudder, but it didn’t worry you as when a woman’s scream followed. You could only assume it was Ms. Lana. “I’ll sink you in the fucking-” A crash, louder than the rest, cut off the sentence, almost covering the sound of Ms. Lana’s blood-curling screech.

“You’re hurting me!”

John B beckoned JJ and you on with his hands, urging the both of you to move forward. Reluctantly, and after a weary glance at one another, you and JJ followed the brunette boy who was edging closer and closer to the side of the house.

“Where the fuck is it?!”

“I don’t know!”

The three of you quickly dashed and ducked beneath the window seal on the only open window when you heard something hit the wall from the inside. You had just parted your lips to say that, just maybe, this was a bad idea. A terrible one, even, before a phrase yelled by the angry man inside had you shutting up.

“The compass wasn’t in the boat! Where is it, Lana?!”

“I don’t know!”

Your heart dropped as things continued to get thrown and slammed inside the house and you prayed those ‘things’ didn’t happen to be Lana. The paint and wood started to physically chip and fall off the walls outside, landing on top of the three of you crouched against the side of the house, wood particles falling into your eyes.

“Let’s get the hell out of here, man…” Another male voice commanded, followed by two pairs of heavy footsteps against the wooden floors inside. The three of you peeked around the corner to watch the two men disappear from the grounds through the front door, stomping angrily towards their boat.

The same boat that had been shooting at you only 24 hours prior.

“Those were the guys that shot at us.” JJ whisper-yelled.

“Go back.” John B commanded, pushing you all back behind the safety of the wall so they wouldn’t see you all. Once the boat sped off, the three of you slowly tip-toed your way into the house. The sound of Lana’s cries getting louder and more heartbreaking the more you entered the house, shoes crunching on wood and glass. Photo frames and dishes all broken into smaller fractions and littered on the floor, holes in the walls, kitchen cabinets hanging on by a single hinge.

“Ms. Lana?” You called out, voice laced with concern, eyeing the broken windows before they found Ms. Lana’s curled up figure on the bathroom floor right below the sink that was hanging on by a singular pipe. “Oh my God.” You gasped, kneeling right next to the woman and laying a hand on her shoulder that caused her to flinch and shrink in on herself.

She had tears running from her red, swollen eyes, curled up like someone’s child.

“She is tweakin’.”

“Shut up, JJ.” You hissed, shooting a mean glare at the insensitive blonde before turning your attention back to the feeble woman. “Do you need a doctor? We can call a doctor for you.” You assured, examining the multiple cuts adorning the woman’s face and arms.

“We can call the sheriff’s department-” John B was on the verge of suggesting before Lana cut him off frantically.

“No cops, please!”

“Mm, that’s not good. Let’s bounce.” JJ urged, weary of the woman’s persistence to avoid law enforcement.

“You shouldn’t be here...” Lana cried, her eyes focused on John B, speaking as her lip quivered and her voice shook.

The brunette’s face twisted, kneeling next to me to level his gaze with Ms. Lana’s. “Do you know those guys?”

“They were… looking for something.” Her voice wavered.

“...Does it have anything to do with this?” John B asked her, pulling the compass from the back pocket of his board shorts. You and JJ shared a glance, both knowing John B probably shouldn’t have shown it to her. “This was my father’s and Scooter had it. Do you know why?”

Why did John B think showing a woman his father’s compass and saying he copped it from her dead husband was a good idea? You had no clue. Interrogation tactic? Impulsiveness? Stupidity? Lana’s eyes were wide and teary, she looked like she was seeing ghosts.

“Scooter didn’t have it, okay? Don’t tell anyone that you have that. They can’t know that you have that!”

Your lips pulled themselves into a thin line and you were starting to feel less bad for Lana and more suspicious of the distressed woman. Maybe she wasn’t as innocent as she appeared. She didn’t seem to be a threat but she clearly knew things that she shouldn’t. You nudged JB’s arm, whispering in his direction even though the woman could most likely still hear you. “We should go…”

“You’ve gotta get out of here!” Lana cried, fearful gaze eyeing the compass in John’s grasp.

“What do you know about the compass?” John B raised his voice over her frantic one, still questioning Lana as JJ pulled him back and the three of you stood to leave.

“Go! Get out!” Was the last thing you heard as the hysteric woman yelled at your retreating figures.

“SO, YOU SAW THE GUYS THAT SHOT AT US, RIGHT?” Pope asked with his head in his hands, stressed after listening to JJ’s dramatic rendition of events. The three of you had returned to The Chateau and summoned Kiara and Pope not too long after, the events of today on the tip of your tongue. “Did you get a good description of them? Anything we can bring to a police report?”

You shook your head along with JJ and John B as Kiara and Pope sighed at you all's lack of response. There was nothing special about these guys. Sure, they seemed out of place but that’s because nobody on the island knew them. That was one perk about living in Kildare, everyone knows everyone. But these weren’t leather jacket, ski-mask wearing criminals. They didn’t stick out like sore thumbs.

“That’s not very helpful…” Kiara huffed.

“But, but,” JJ started again. “They were burly. Like the men I’d see at my dad’s garage. You guys know he made cargo hides for drug smugglers...” He reminded you all carelessly. “I can tell you with full confidence that these guys? They’re square groupers.”

“Like Narcos square groupers?” Pope questioned with little amusement, his face dropping as he watched JJ smoke against the brick wall.

“Like, Pablo Escobar square grouper?” You added on, just as skeptical from your seat on the patio floor, legs stretched in front of you and crossed over one another while you leaned on your elbows for support. JJ just nodded, blowing out smoke.

“You guys, not everything is a kingpin movie.” Kie reprimanded from her place next to Pope on the patio furniture.

“Okay,” Pope started. “What does a square grouper look like? Hm? Because clearly, you don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Okay, you weren’t there! I wasn’t taking little mental polaroids the entire time, dude! I was under duress!” JJ whined to which you and John B rolled your eyes.

“Why would they want the compass?” Kiara probed, leaning forward in her seated position, resting her forearms on her thighs.

“That thing’s a piece of shit, you could pawn it off for five bucks if you wanted to… No offense, John B.” Pope claimed honestly, watching as John B flicked the object open and stared at it longingly, paying no mind to the boy’s insult.

“Well, clearly it’s worth something.” You popped in. “Considering these guys are willing to kill for it.”

“...The office.” You all turned to the scruffy brunette. A silent question on everyone’s face. “My dad’s office.” John B continued, shooting up and walking inside The Chateau as you all scurried to follow, shooting one another confused glances. “He always kept the office locked ‘cause he was worried about his competitors stealing his Royal Merchant research. Remember?” He directed at you and JJ, looking back but still walking forward. “We used to laugh at him like he was actually going to find it. But now that he’s…gone, I just left it as he kept it.” He said despondently.

“Yeah. For when he gets back.” Kie backed him up with a light-tipped smile. Keys jangled as John B unlocked the room you hadn’t seen in years. Not since before Big John went missing. Before all of this.

“I’ve slept over here like six-hundred times and I’ve never seen this door opened.” Pope said aloud, eyeing the office like a museum.

This was like being hit by a tidal-wave for you. And you’re sure it was the same for John B. You can remember the countless nights you’d slept over before and after Big John went missing. Before he went missing and you, JB, and JJ would peek inside just to watch him just write and type like his life depended on it. It even brought back memories of when your dad would stay a while after dropping you off to spend the night just to share beers in the backyard with Big John.

The nights after his disappearance weren’t as sweet though. Sleeping in a group hug around John B after his dad went missing. Then your friends all slept in a group hug around you after your dad went missing. Then they slept in another group hug around you when your dad’s body was found, washed up on the shore for the entire island to see. With the plethora of events, The Chateau became a haunted house in your mind.

“Look,” John B said, pulling you out of your stupor. He’d taken a bulletin board down off of the walls that was decorated with paper scraps and old pictures. His index finger pointed to the photo at the very top, a sepia-like tint to it. “This was the original owner of the compass.”

The paper pinned against the photo read ‘Robert Q. Routledge. 1880 - 1920’.

“There’s the lucky compass right there.” Kiara showed you all, pointing to the object clutched in the old man’s hand in the picture. You wouldn’t exactly call the compass lucky, though. And if it was before, it surely isn’t now.

“Actually, um. He was shot after he bought it…” John B informed. “Then the compass was shipped back to Henry.” He continued guiding you all through the timeline, pointing to the next picture. “Henry was killed in a crop-dusting accident when he had the compass.” You happened to look up at the exact same time as Pope, the two of you locking eyes with visible worry. “After he died, the compass was given to Stephen. Stephen had it when he died in Vietnam.” The boy ranted. “After that, Stephen passed the compass down to my dad.”

“This is painting a very bad picture, JB…” You warned, hand on the back of your neck as your face twisted.

“Yeah, he has a death compass.” Pope deadpanned.

“I do not.” John B denied, rolling his eyes and sitting down in the nearest chair with the compass still in hand. “My dad used to talk about this compartment here.” He explained, fiddling with the article between his fingers. “Soldiers used to hide secret notes.” He twisted the back of it off, revealing a word scratched into the top. He sat up with surprise as he spoke. “...This is my dad’s handwriting.”

Pope scoffed. “How can you know that?”

“He’s right.” You assured the doubtful male absentmindedly, squinting your eyes and craning your neck down to see the word written into the metal. “Big John had horrific handwriting and his R’s always had a point to them. I always used to think they looked like big-headed baby chicks, in a way. That’s definitely his handwriting.”

“Weird observation…but she’s right.” John B backed you up, his eyes going back to the compass. “Redfield…” He muttered. “What’s Redfield? Is it a clue?”

“A clue? C’mon that’s-” Pope began until you shot him a nasty glare, silently telling him to be helpful and supportive or shut up. His eyes widened as he gulped. “If it is a clue, m-maybe it’s an anagram?”

“Yes!” John B jumped up from his seat, beckoning you all to back up some. “Anagram. Perfect. You need paper.” He directed at Pope, eyeing scanning the cluttered space. Handing the boy an old, crinkled sheet of notebook paper, Pope got to work with the help of JJ and Kiara as John B and you scoured the desks for anything else of use.

Your ears were quick to pick up on the sound of an engine over the chatter of the brainiac bunch behind you. Eyes perking up to see a black truck pulling onto the yard.”...Guys?” You spoke, but not loud enough. “Guys!” You shushed them, all eyes turning to you. “Somebody’s here.”

The five of you crowded around the window, peeking through the blinds and peering through the dusted glass. Two males got out of the car and you recognized them immediately. “Those are the guys from The Marsh and Lana’s house.”

John B was quick to turn towards JJ. “Where’s the gun?”

“I don’t know-”

“Now you don’t have the gun? The one time we need the gun?” Kiara panicked.

“It was in my backpack and then I-...it’s on the porch.” JJ quickly realized, sighing before biting his lip out of frustration.

“Go. Go get it.” John B urged quietly but you were quick to step up, tugging the short sleeve of JJ’s shirt before he could open the door.

“No, no, we are not sending JJ out there to be pummeled by square troopers, square groupers, whatever they are-”

“We need the gun-” The bandana-wearing boy hissed.

“I don’t care. We stay put. We stay together.” You insisted. But JJ gently swiped your hand down and backed out of your reach, one hand up in surrender. “What’re you doing-”

“It’ll be quick, I swear. I’m like a ninja-”

“JJ.” You said simply, disappointed as you curled your fist in annoyance.

“I’ll be on my Batman shit.” He whispered before leaving the room quietly with the door cracked behind him, allowing you all to see him leave.

“John Routledge!” A country man’s voice boomed, causing JJ to turn around and slide his way back into the room quietly before he’d even made it two steps outside of the office. “C’mon out now!” JJ closed and locked the door as you all heard the pairs of footsteps enter The Chateau. The men began smashing and throwing things around just as they did Ms. Lana’s house. Was this their MO or something?

‘Window’ Kie mouthed, pointing to the window that led straight into the yard, towards the chicken coop and the surf shack. JJ and Pope rushed over to it as John B held down the door, which was just him standing against it with his hands above his head. JJ and Pope tried to lift the frame but it wouldn’t budge. Your face twisted in confusion, walking over to where the two boys were struggling and attempting to pull up the window seal yourself with no better luck.

“It’s painted shut.” You couldn’t help but smack your teeth, cursing under your breath as your eyes quickly scanned the room for something sharp as you patted the back of your shorts, feeling an object in your pocket. Digging your hand in to reveal a pen, the one you’d been using to journal that morning. You whispered for the guys to move before ejecting the pen and sliding it quickly along the seal to break it as quickly as possible.

Suddenly, one of the square groupers began kicking the door down, John B running across the room.

“Hurry!” Kiara whispered.

“I’m going as fast as I can!” You hissed. When the seal was completely broken, you wasted no time in opening the window, being the first to jump down into the backyard and making a b-line for the coop. The five of you piled inside one by one, the space surprisingly big enough for five fully grown teenagers as you crouched in tense silence. Just then, you heard a shot ring out from the inside of the house, assuming the man shot the door down.

Everyone could hear everyone breathing, shaky breaths all throughout the small enclosure. And the roosters. One rooster would not stop crowing. You were hoping, praying the damn thing would stop making noise. It wasn’t long before the guys were seen leaving the house, carrying at least two crates of books and research each.

“Pope, shut him up.” JJ demanded, referring to the rooster next to Pope that was making the most noise.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Pet it or something, I don’t know.” Kie cried. Suddenly , JJ got up and grabbed the rooster by its neck, pressing it into the ground until its neck audibly snapped and its clucking ceased. You couldn’t help but cringe and look away, the sight somehow prompting you to gag. JJ’s eyes met yours as if he was making sure you were okay, you giving him a sickly nod in return. One that wasn’t as reassuring as you hoped. Kie was crying silently and you didn’t miss the way John B grabbed her hand in comfort.

“WHAT BETTER PLACE TO HIDE A MESSAGE THAN A FAMILY HEIRLOOM?” John B tried to muse from the driver’s seat of The Twinkie.

“Maybe somewhere more easily accessible.” You said bluntly, laying back on the floor of the van, your foot on Pope and head in JJ’s lap, Kiara in the passenger seat. “Like a hidden jewelry box compartment or a locked drawer. Not inside of a death compass on a dead man’s sunken boat.”

John B simply ignored you. “He had to know it was gonna get back to me, right?” He spoke hopefully, referring to his father.

“It’s possible.” Kie agreed from the passenger seat next to him, not wholeheartedly however.

“It could also be possible that you’re concocting wild theories to help deal with your sad feels- Ow!” Pope was interrupted when you kicked his knee, shooting him a glance that said ‘what the hell'.

“You know how I process my sad feels,” JJ started, your eyes drifting to him as your head craned slightly back from its place atop his thighs. “Dank nugs and the stickiest of ickies.”

“Preach.” You agreed, dapping up the blonde boy.

“Look, I’m not concocting, okay?” John B nearly shouted in frustration. “My dad’s trying to give me a message.”

“...If it helps you believe, John B.” Kiara tried softly.

“I don’t need a therapy session. I’m not trippin’ out.” He dismissed the four of you. “My dad is missing, okay? Missing. You guys don’t know what it’s like to have the person closest to you vanish and have no idea what happened.”

Suddenly, the two pairs of eyes in the back of the van turned to you. You couldn’t help but curl in on yourself slightly. “Stop it.” You demanded, averting your eyes to the window, watching the palm trees pass by. You hated when they acted like you had to be shielded from things because of what happened to your dad.

“It’s been almost a year.” Kiara nudged JB, letting it go. “But fine. What do you think the message is?”

“Redfield.” The brunette reiterated hopefully. “Redfield Lighthouse. My dad’s favorite place.”

THE LIGHTHOUSE LOOKED A BIT DIFFERENT THAN YOU REMEMBERED. It looked older, more rickety. You could swear it was leaning now. The five of you stood staring up at it before John B turned around to face JJ.

“You’re gonna post up out here and look for bogey’s. Alright?”

“Wait, why me?” JJ asked pitifully.

“...JJ, there are independent variables and dependent variables. You’re an independent variable-” Pope tried to reason.

“Shut up.” The blonde-haired boy dismissed with a snarl.

“We don’t know what you’re gonna do!”

“Just shut up!”

“Listen to me,” John B broke the boys up, pointing an assertive finger. “Pope, you stand lookout with JJ. Y/N, you make sure they don’t rip each other’s heads off. If we get split up, we meet back at JJ’s house.” You watched as Kiara and John B hopped over the fence and onto the lighthouse property. You slid your back against a nearby tree, one earbud placed in your ear as you drummed your fingers against your thigh, playing with blades of grass between your fingers.

“I’m gonna work on my merit scholarship essay. I’m trying to keep felonies to a minimum.”

“All right, would you just shut up already?” JJ sassed, you rolling your eyes and scoffing at them both. A few beats passed before JJ spoke again. “They’re probably boning in there right now.”

“Jesus, JJ…” You breathed out.

“What? You don’t honestly believe they don’t have a thing for each other, do you?” He defended.

“Maybe you’re just jealous.” Pope offered from his place in the grass.

“Jealous? Of what?”

“Because John B’s trying to move in on Kie and you have a thing for her.”

“Listen, dude,” JJ started with his hands out in front of him. “Kie’s hot and all but she’s a kook. I don’t see her like that.”

“That’s what they all say.” You sang playfully, causing JJ to whip around to face you.

“Oh, really? And what about little miss pretty & popular?”

You visibly cringed. “Ew, don’t ever refer to me like that again.”

“You’re telling me you aren’t crushin’ on someone? No rich, polo-wearing kid swept you off your feet during you and Kie’s kook year?” He egged on.

“Knock it off, JJ.” Pope defended when he saw how your face fell at the mention of it. You hated when they brought it up. Technically Kie’s kook year was longer than yours, considering you’d joined her kook friend group when you moved to Figure Eight. That was an era of your life you’d love nothing more than to forget.

“Fine, fine,” He backed off, his hands thrown up in mock surrender as he backed some steps away. Just then, the three of your heads whipped to the dirt road behind you at the sound of police sirens. You snatched the earbud out of your ear and pocketed it, standing up from your place against the tree. They were clearly headed for the lighthouse.

“What do we do? Do we wait?” Pope asked frantically.

“We can’t, man, c’mon.” JJ urged, sprinting towards the van with you and Pope following close behind. He jumped into the driver’s seat, pulling off before you and Pope had even closed the side door completely. You could only have faith that your other two friends made it out okay.

“NEXT TIME YOU END UP AT THE SHERIFF’S OFFICE, YOU CALL ME FIRST. DO YOU UNDERSTAND, JOHN BOOKER?” Your mother reprimanded the poor boy, her heels clacking against the pavement outside of the department. You didn’t expect a call from John B after you all had run from the lighthouse, coming from the Kildare County Sheriff’s Station from John B saying he and Kiara had been “arrested”.

“Yes, ma’am.” He affirmed. By the time you’d arrived at the station, Kiara had apparently already left with her dad who’d refused to bail John B out as well, leaving the boy with only one other option. The three of you stopped in front of your mother’s car as she now turned to face the two of you.

“Shoupe already has enough to deal with. The sheriff’s office doesn’t need a couple of rowdy teenagers on their radar. I don’t know what you kids were doing up at the lighthouse that led to this, but drop it. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” You both blurted out simultaneously, your mother having a newfound knack for intimidating people. She didn’t hesitate to jump in her car and start the engine, giving one last look as a goodbye.

YOU WERE AT THE DOCKS WAITING ON JOHN B, SITTING ON THE WOOD AND SWINGING YOUR FEET. You’d gone with him when he realized it was time for him to work, an employee saying Ward was looking for him as soon as the pair of you had arrived. He was up on The Druther’s, Ward’s boat, talking to the man himself. You couldn’t tell what the conversation was from your seat on the docks, so you waited. It was only minutes before the boy himself came stomping down the marina, prompting you to get up and dust yourself off.

“Is everything okay-”

“I just got fired.” He blurted, not even making eye contact with you and he brushed past you. You stuttered at his passive nature, scurrying to follow behind him.

“What do you mean you just got fired?”

“Ward found out about the gear.” He scoffed, and even with his back to you as he breezed through the working people to leave the dock, you could almost feel his frustration. “I can’t believe her.” He muttered.

“Who? Who are you talking about, John B?” You soon got your answer as Sarah Cameron walked by, you and the girl making brief eye contact with a mutual snarl on both of your lips before her attention turned to John B, who she somehow saw after you.

“Hey, John B.” She greeted, her hands full of paper bags that were filled to the brim with groceries, a large, brimmed hat on the top of her head. You weren’t surprised when he continued walking as you followed without a word to the girl, but she persisted. “That’s it?” Sarah scoffed. “Not a ‘hey, how you doin’’? Not a ‘kiss my ass’?”

You didn’t expect John B to turn around and swiftly walk over to the girl, getting all in her face. With the noise of the busy marina in the back, their close conversation became hushed but it was still audible enough.

“Your secret’s safe with me? Really?” Your friend pressed the girl. “I just got fired because of you. And I know you can’t imagine that but some people need jobs, so they can eat.” Nothing shocked you more than when he smacked the bag of goods from her arms, leaving Sarah stunned as fruits rolled in front of her sandals. Her jaw slack and eyes wide.

“What the fuck?” She hollered.

“You are exactly who I thought you were, Sarah Cameron.” He reprimanded, turning and leaving behind a stunned kook girl. Although, you would’ve paid money to see that again, it was such an odd interaction.

You knew he worked on Ward’s boat so he was bound to come across her but you weren’t aware they really talked. If you didn’t know either of them, you’d assume they were a high school couple arguing out in public.

The brunette brushed past you once again, taking his time and seemingly building up the courage to break into a run.

“Wh- John B!” You called from your place in the parking lot. “John B, where are you going?!” But it was no use as he simply left you behind and continued sprinting away. You figured you’d just give him some space to himself.

YOU’D RECONNECTED WITH POPE AND JJ SOON AFTER BEING LEFT IN THE DUST BY JOHN B, meeting them on the docks in The Cut. The three of you had been there for some hours, you helping Pope fix a generator while JJ smoked unhelpfully to the side when John B pulled up in The Twinkie.

He honked, beckoning the three of you into the van with a finger and none of you questioned what was happening or where you were going as you hopped into the rickety vehicle. You were mildly pissed about being left at The Marina but you got in nonetheless.

THE SUN HAD SET AND YOU ALL STILL HADN’T ARRIVED YET. John B briefly explained the destination and plan but you half-listened. You’d been driving for a long time, picking up Kiara along the way, with no clue as to where the five of you were going.

“Do you mind if I sit this one out?” JJ asked tiredly. “It’s been a long, weird day…”

“Look, I know I was wrong about the lighthouse.” John B acknowledged. “And wrong about everything else. But I was right about one thing — my dad is trying to tell me something.”

Just then you pulled up to a graveyard, the five of you piling out of the van with a flashlight each in your hand. “This place is scary.” Kie voiced. “John B, what are we doing?”

“You know how you’re trying to remember a song but you can’t remember who sings it?” He started. “Redfield. This whole time, I thought it was a place.” He explained as you all followed him further into the mess of graves and tombstones. “But it’s not.” He held the lantern in his hand up once you all stopped in front of a tomb, one of the tallest ones in the yard, revealing “REDFIELD” engraved in the stone. “It’s a person. My great-great-grandmother, Olivia Redfield. That was her maiden name.” He spoke longingly, looking up at the stone letters. “Help me with the door. C’mon.”

Pope stepped forward as the remaining three of you flashed your lights in the pair’s direction as they attempted and failed to push the tomb door open.

“Are you pushing?” Pope said to the brunette.

“Yes, I’m pushing.” John B strained out. Then JJ was jumping into help but even with his addition, the boys had no luck opening the door. They all jumped back when a snake hissed, peeking its head out from a crack in the stone structure.

“Woah! That’s a moccasin, alright” JJ started, jumping back almost cartoonistically. “Ye-old cottonmouth. Death in tall grass. Roof! Roof!” JJ started barking at the snake. Sometimes, you questioned his sanity.

“JJ! Shut up!” You warned the erratic blonde.

“You’re gonna wake the dead.” Pope slapped him on the shoulder, grimacing.

“Dude, they’re afraid of dogs. Everybody knows that.” He breathed out, straightening himself back out.

“Look, John,” Pope sighed, turning his attention back to John B. “We’re not gonna get in there, it’s not budging. We should probably just go.”

You were examining the tomb carefully, flashlight trailing the structure up and down before you noticed something. “I think I can get through.”

“...What?” John B spoke.

“You think you’re gonna fit through that hole?” Pope asked, worried.

“I’ll do it.” You reassured them, ignoring their concerns. “Just help me up.” They all shuffled to help you up — Kiara and John B holding the vines away and to the sides while JJ and Pope intertwined their hands for you to use as a human step-stool.

“What am I looking for?” You inquired, eyes fleeting to John B.

“You’ll know when you see it.” Your hands slapped your thighs. Helpful, you thought, but you didn’t ask anymore questions. You put your flashlight in between your teeth, like a dog carrying a bone before laying a hand on each of the boys shoulders, you put your foot over their connected hands and boosted yourself up.

It was a tight squeeze but you made your way through, landing on your feet and removing the flashlight from your teeth. It took your eyes a minute to adjust, staring at the walls of the spooky space.

“You alive in there?” JJ called.

“Alive and kickin’.” You called back, aiming the flashlight everywhere, scanning over everything. But the space was much bigger than you thought and your one flashlight didn’t seem to be enough. “I need more light, please.”

“Gotcha’.” John B said, pushing his arm holding the lantern through the crack of the wall, illuminating the space by tenfold. And that light was just what you needed.

“Oh my God…” You breathed out. John B may not have led you all on a goose-chase after all.

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

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alloftheimagines · 1 year

Text

joel miller | survive

masterlist | taglist | ko-fi

words: 4.7k

warnings: 18+! not for minors! please please please read the warnings and skip this one if you're uncomfortable with the subject matter.

episode eight reimagining with the same hard-hitting themes: blood, violence, cannibalism, sexual assault, killing, abduction, vomit. reader takes the place of ellie. angst. hurt/comfort. no happy ending as requested because i wasn't sure that could exist in these circumstances, but there is now a part two where joel takes care of reader and the fic ends on a lighter note.

prompt: Hi! Would love to request something for Joel Miller 🥰 Angst but with a happy ending, after seeing episode 8 I thought maybe reader is with Joel and Ellie, but this time Ellie stays back to keep an eye on Joel so reader gets kidnapped and is the one Joel basically comes back from the dead to save? hahshxdjfbf I just imagine them reuniting and UGH 🥹❤️ Feel free to ignore this if inspiration doesn’t strike!

tags: @sweetbabygirlsworld

You’re terrified of losing Joel. So terrified that instead of watching him shiver and sweat on an old, bloodied mattress as his infection spreads, you opt to go out and hunt. It isn’t solely selfish. You need food, and Ellie needs to rest. At least this way you’re doing something productive rather than waiting for a miracle.

Still, it’s difficult to concentrate on anything but the knot in your stomach, the one that keeps asking “what if?” What if Joel doesn’t make it? How will you survive past that grief for long enough to keep Ellie safe? How will you go back to Jackson and tell Tommy that his brother is gone?

You’re lost in those thoughts when you hear the crunching of snow, and you try to shake them away, readying Joel’s shotgun as you search for the source.

A deer. It’s so beautiful that for a second, you forget that it’s supposed to be your next meal. You’d forgotten beauty still existed in a world so broken, forgotten that nature can still be kind.

But humans can’t. Not if you want to survive; not if you want Joel to survive.

You take a deep breath. Adjust your posture. Shoot.

The bullet doesn’t hit where you want it to; where you know you should have been aiming if only you weren’t so distracted. The deer darts away. Whispering a curse, you follow the trail of blood —

And find more than you bargained for. Two men wait with the dying deer at their feet. They look… clean. Comfortable. Not people struggling to find food or clothing. You raise your gun again immediately, and theirs point back at you.

“Put your guns down,” you order, trying to sound braver than you feel. You did alright before Joel came into your life, but it’s been a while since you’ve been alone and it’s hard to summon the strength that used to come so easy.

“You first,” the darker-haired man says, narrowing his gaze.

The fairer man glances warily before slowly lowering his. Good. At least one of them is smart.

“Not going to happen. On the ground. Kick it away.” You shift on your feet, gripping your gun tightly and readying your finger on the trigger. You don’t enjoy killing people, but you will if you have to. If it means getting back to Joel and Ellie.

“James,” the unarmed man says, calm authority firm in his voice. The one in charge, then. “Do as she says.” He holds up his hands in surrender as his friend, James, finally puts his gun away. “We mean no trouble. We’d just like to talk.”

“So talk,” you bite out, making no move to lower your own gun.

“Alright.” His breath is visible in the cool air, nose pink and runny. “My name is David. This is James. We’re from a town just south of here.”

“Good for you. Maybe you should go back now.”

An amused smirk twitches at his mouth. “Thing is, we have a lot of mouths to feed down there, and this deer… it would keep us going for a week. Maybe two.”

“Shame it isn’t yours,” you say.

A short sigh escapes him. “Right. It is a shame. But if I could offer you warm shelter and good food, a welcoming community, why couldn’t we share?”

You raise your eyebrows. “I’m not interested in negotiating.”

“With all due respect, ma’am… as far as I can tell, you’re all alone in these woods. There’s no reason why you have to be.”

It’s clear the other man, James, isn’t in on David’s kind offer. His mouth is pursed in a thin line, jaw grinding as though he’s holding back from saying something. Welcoming community, my ass.

Still, an idea strikes. You need something else more than you need the deer, and if this town has supplies… “You have medicine in this town of yours?”

David hesitates before dipping his head. “We do.”

“Antibiotics?”

“Yes…”

Hope swells in you for the first time since Joel was injured.

“If you put the gun down, we’d be much more open to discussing what it is you need,” he continues. “Please?”

Gulping, you slowly lower your gun — but you keep it in your hand just in case, stomach still filled with unease. Not every settlement will be like Jackson, and there’s something… off about these two.

“If you get me that medicine, you can have the deer.”

“We can do you one better. We have a nurse down in the village who can help you with your injury. If you just come with us…”

“No,” you say. “You’ll bring the medicine here, to me.”

Another strange smile. “You’ll be much more likely to survive the winter if you let us help you.”

Impatient, you raise your gun again. “Bring it or stop wasting my damn time.”

David lifts his hands again. “Okay. Alright. James, go and fetch what the lady needs.”

“David—” James begins to protest, but is quickly cut off.

“Go on now.”

Reluctantly, he does, and then it’s just the two of you.

“I know a place you can get warm,” he offers. “It’s just through the trees. An old greenhouse. No need to wait out here in the cold.”

It makes your gut twist, how he seems to be determined to get you moving, to take you out of these woods. And there’s a glint in his eye, something untrustworthy there — even his right-hand man seemed to see it. Nobody follows orders like that with pure reasons. He’s… scared, or at least threatened.

“I’m fine just here.”

“Okay. What’s your name?”

“I’m the one holding a gun, which means I’ll be the one asking questions. How many people are there in this town of yours?”

“Forty. Like I said, there’s room for one more. Perhaps it was God’s will, us meeting today.”

Oh, good, you think. He’s a God botherer. You didn’t particularly subscribe to religion before the world turned to shit, and you sure as hell have better things to do than pray now.

“Unless you’re not alone.” His voice seems to lower as though he knows something, and you stiffen instinctively. “Is the injury yours?”

“It’s none of your business.”

He no longer seems to be staring down the barrel of your gun, but right into you. “Because a few of our men had some trouble a few days ago. A man, a woman, and a young girl. Man was thought to be badly injured, you see. If he lived… well, I’d imagine that kinda wound would be susceptible to a nasty infection.”

He knows. He always knew. The raiders you crossed paths with, the ones who hurt Joel…

You no longer feel like the one holding the gun. You feel like the deer bleeding on the snow between you. Prey. Still, you set your chin. “I don’t know what you mean. I travel alone.”

“See, I believe you, but the thing is… my friend, James… he’s not so certain. I’d imagine that once he comes back with that medicine, he’ll be rounding up a few men to go hunting for these people. If what you’re saying is true, I wouldn’t want you to be caught in the middle of that. That’s why it’s much safer you just come with me now, see?”

Your upper lip curls into a warning snarl, finger twitching on the gun’s trigger. But if you kill him, you won’t get Joel’s medicine. You’ll lose him. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Hmm.” He debates this. “There’s a third option.”

“Not interested.”

“I think you are,” he pushes. “I think you’re one of them, and I think you’re trying to help your man. Very noble, but strange. You don’t seem a good match. You’re so… young, so calm, and from what I hear, he’s dangerous. Ruthless, even. A cold-blooded killer. Maybe if you come into town with me now, we can arrange for that medicine to be delivered without my brigade charging in and doing some damage. There’s a place for you. Your daughter, too. You don’t need to be tied to him anymore.”

You want to scoff, or else laugh in his face. Does he believe you’re that simple, that stupid? Does he believe you’re a fucking damsel in need of saving?

Anger simmers in you at the thought. “I think it’s about time you shut up.” You point the barrel at his head now, right between his brows.

He doesn’t balk, doesn’t tremble, doesn’t so much as blink, and you’re beginning to understand. He’s the type of man who uses religion to veil whatever monster lies beneath. He isn’t some small-town do-gooder, though he might believe it.

You dread to think what he might be capable of.

“I think it’s about time you drop your weapon.” The voice doesn’t belong to David. It comes from behind along with the feeling of cold metal against the back of your skull. You risk a glance over your shoulder to see the man from before, James. You should have heard him creep up, should have seen, but you were so focused on the one in front of you.

Your heart thunders as you realise you might not get out of it this time.

“We only want you to come with us,” David says, eyes round with feigned innocence. “That’s all. We don’t want to hurt you.”

“The gun to my head says otherwise. What would God say about this?” you retort, dripping venom because it’s all you have left.

A strange sadness crosses David’s face. “It didn’t have to be this way.”

Before you can pull the trigger, something heavy slams into your skull, and then darkness swallows you whole.

***

You wake in a cage, the taste of blood on your tongue and your wrists bound by rope. David is on the other side of the bars in what looks to be a kitchen, utensils hanging on the wall. Great butchers’ knives and cleavers wink at you in the watery daylight. You go cold with fear, crawling to the furthest corner of the cage.

“Let me go,” you say. “Let me go!”

“I’m sorry. It’s for your own good,” he says. “You were corrupted, but I can help you see the light again.”

“Why are you doing this?” You’re choking on a sob, thoughts of Joel and Ellie running through your mind. What if they found them? Joel is in and out of consciousness and Ellie can’t fight on her own.

David curls his fingers around the bars. “It’s God’s will. I was meant to meet you today. This is where you’re supposed to be.”

“In a fucking cage?” you spit, voice echoing around the kitchen. You pull at the rope until your skin splits, crying out when you realise this is it. There’s no way out. You’re trapped, and you have no idea what this man truly wants with you.

“This is merely a precaution,” he says. “I was wrong about you before. You are dangerous too. You have a dark heart, just like me. If you would just surrender, you could be part of this community.”

You squeeze your eyes closed, clamping down on a plea. You doubt it will do any good. Still, tears roll down your cheeks. “Fuck you,” you whisper.

“You don’t understand yet. You will.” David takes a step back, and somehow the prospect of him leaving you here causes your stomach to turn to water.

“Don’t do this,” you say. But he walks away with a glint in his eye that promises he will be back, and you’re left alone.

Dizziness rattles through you as you pull yourself onto your feet, testing the sturdiness of the bars in hopes you’ll find a weak spot. But it’s padlocked closed and the screws are in tightly —

Something catches your eye, pale and fleshy on the kitchen tiles.

An ear.

In the kitchen.

You vomit without warning as it all comes together. You wonder if the community even knows that their leader feeds them people. Wonder who was last in this cage and how long it took for them to become a meal.

You scramble against the ropes again and pray — not to whatever fucked up God David worships, but someone — that you find a way out.

***

“Joel!” Ellie shakes him frantically and finally he comes to. Sweat glistens on his forehead, his face drawn and pale, but he finally ate something earlier and she’s been keeping him hydrated as he drifts in and out of sleep.

Now, he frowns and hums in question.

“Y/N isn’t back. She didn’t come back, and now people are here.”

The sound of shuffling outside is only growing louder, and she keeps her voice to a whisper as fear grips her. It’s not like you to go more than two hours without checking in, even if you haven’t caught anything for dinner yet. That four hours have passed means something is wrong, and Ellie doesn’t know what to do, how to find you. She needs Joel. She needs you.

“What?” Joel struggles to sit up, the mattress groaning under his weight as he clutches his injured stomach. But he’s alert, awake, and that’s better than he’s been in days.

“She isn’t back,” Ellie says again, voice trembling now. “Someone’s here, Joel. They know about us.”

Understanding clears through the fog in his eyes slowly, and he looks up as he hears the floorboards creak above. “Shit,” he curses, dragging himself slowly to his knees. Ellie watches, pulling out her own gun. “Hide somewhere. Let me deal with it.”

He’s in no fit state to deal with anything, but when Ellie protests, he shushes her and orders her to do as he says, so she does. And as he readies himself for a fight he can’t win, panic rushes through him. You’re not back. Somebody is here.

He’s failed again, or at least is about to, and this time it’s you he’s afraid to lose.

He summons that anger when the silhouette slowly stalks down the stairs. Summons it a lot more when he’s throwing an arm around the idiot’s neck to squeeze the life out of him.

***

Joel has forgotten his injury. He’s forgotten anything but you; the thought of you alone, in danger, afraid. His fingers curl into fists at his side, and when the attacker finally rouses, he orders Ellie to leave the room. He doesn’t want her to see what comes next; who he becomes when he’s trying to protect the people he loves.

Nausea twists through him, but it mingles with anticipation. Some sick excitement. He’s good at being violent. Better at being vengeful.

“Where is she?” he asks, voice just steady enough to be assertive.

The attacker mumbles something, and Joel’s patience quickly dwindles.

“Who are you?” he asks, louder now.

The attacker shakes his head. Doesn’t want to play.

Joel brandishes his knife.

The attacker’s eyes widen in fear as he presses the point into his finger, ignoring the throbbing in his stomach. “You want to do this the hard way?”

“I'm not telling you anything.”

Joel tilts his head and clenches his jaw. Then in one swift motion, he’s gripping the arms of the chair the attacker is tied to, quivering with anger as he towers over him. “Last chance.”

The attacker purses his lips, and Joel steps back, watching him sink in relief — relishing in that false sense of security. Then he throws the first punch, the impact of fist to jaw singing through his bones. He shakes out his hand, punches again. Blood splatters, but he goes again twice more just for good measure, growing weaker with every blow. He stops when he realises that, knowing he needs to conserve his energy to get to you.

“Where the fuck is she?” he bellows.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about!”

He plunges the knife into the attackers knee, the sound of bone crunching and flesh squelching as blood dribbles down his jeans and the attacker cries out. That’s when he begins to beg. That’s when Joel knows he’ll tell him anything.

“Alright!” he’s whimpering. “Alright, please!”

“Tell me where she is or I swear to god, I’ll pop you’re fucking kneecap off.” Joel drives the blade deeper, thirsty now. Desperate. He can’t do this without you. He needs you safe. If he finds out you’re hurt…

“With David!” he blubbers. “She’s with David in town!”

“What tooooown?” (oh, you thought I wouldn’t?)

“Silver Lake!”

“Who the fuck is David and what does he want with her?”

“He…” the man chokes on his own sobs again, and Joel tugs on the knife, earning a piercing scream. “I don’t know what he wants, okay? He’s the leader! He… he took to her, I don’t know!”

A chill crawls down Joel’s spine and his vision blurs as he pauses. His blood-drenched fingers tremble, and he doesn’t know how to make them stop. “What do you mean, he took to her?”

The man spits out blood. “He likes her. Wants her to join him. I don’t know, man. I don’t know. I told you everything.”

Joel wants to tear him apart then and there, but he pulls out his map, yanking the knife from the man’s knee to put the hilt in his mouth. The attacker howls, tears streaking down his cheeks. Joel wants to tell him he’ll do a lot fucking worse if he finds you harmed. He wants to say a lot of things, but cotton fills his mouth and he needs to find you. He needs to stop wasting time. “Point it out to me.”

“It’s not a real town. It’s just a fucking community. I don’t know.”

Joel grips the man’s collar, and his voice falls deathly low. “Point it out to me or I’ll make sure your other knee matches.”

It’s enough motivation for the attacker to pinpoint a spot. His blood stains the map, highlighting a small valley between the forest and mountains.

Joel puts the map in his back pocket and slits the man’s throat before he can beg for his life. He’s not feeling merciful today.

***

David comes back for you an hour later. “Have you reconsidered?”

You only glare at him, your wrists bloody and your eyes gritty from so many shed tears. To your surprise, he unlocks the cage. Despite your better instinct, you stay seated, stay calm. You won’t get out of this if you try to run now. He has the upper hand, and you’ll let him have it, hoping his arrogance, his underestimation of you, will be his downfall.

“You must be hungry,” he says. “Come. Let me show you what I can offer.”

Shakily, you rise from the ground. “Will you at least untie me?”

“I’ll think about it.”

He leads you out of your kitchen. When he’s not looking, you lean your back to the table and snatch an abandoned knife, slipping it up your sleeve.

The front of the building is laid out like an old, cheap restaurant and bar, candles burning and booths lining the windows.

“I’m glad you’ve calmed down,” he says. “Now we’ll get a chance to know each other properly.”

Slowly, you begin to saw at the rope with the knife as he leads you to a booth. Two plates are set at the table, a candle lit in the middle, and you think about the ear on the floor. Wonder if the meat in the stew is not animal, not your deer. You want to throw up again, but you swallow down the bile in favour of relief: the rope has snapped. You keep your hands behind your back as you shuffle in your seat, trying to avoid looking at the meal. The smell of it makes your stomach turn.

“What do you want from me?” you ask finally.

David places a napkin on his lap. “I’m showing you hospitality. Hospitality you haven’t earned, might I add. Where is your gratitude?”

“Where the fuck is my medicine?”

Without warning, he stands and slaps you, and you can’t control your anger as the sting prickles along your cheekbone. You throw your plate at him, the food splattering his face and staining his shirt, and then you run.

A mistake. He hauls you back quickly, and the two of you topple to the floor as he slams your wrist down, forcing the knife away. He pins your hands and then straddles you, and you know what comes next. You know, and you shouldn’t, and this isn’t happening.

“You need to be taught some manners,” he croons, taking your chin in his hands. “A girl like you… you need to learn how to submit. Especially when we’re married. But don’t worry.” He leans down as you squirm, whispering into your ear, “We have time for that.”

“No!” You shout, slapping him away and doing your best to wriggle away. But he’s heavy on top of you, and he’s reaching for his belt, and there’s no way out. No hope. Nothing. “Get the fuck off me, you sick bastard!”

He slaps you again, lash twice as hard this time, and you taste blood.

You refuse to let it end like this. You refuse to let him destroy you. You let your body go slack as he unbuckles his belt, reaching out a hand and scrambling for the knife again. It’s under a chair not far from you — you just have to wriggle a little further.

“It’s sad that you can’t accept that this is how it’s supposed to be. This is God’s will. You and me… we’re the same, underneath. We have the same violent heart,” David is muttering, and there, your fingertips brush the hilt. Determination renewed, you extend yourself again and this time the knife falls into your hand.

You don’t have time to think; he’s unbuttoning his jeans, and like hell are you going to spend another moment beneath him. You drive the knife straight into his neck, and his eyes bulge as he gurgles on his own blood. As he goes limp, you push him off you — and stab again, again, again, spitting every bit of revenge into your movements as his blood covers his skin and your clothes.

“You twisted fucker!” you’re yelling, tears rolling down your face as the shock draws in, the disgust. He’d been so close to taking you. So close to making you a victim after so long spent fighting to be a survivor. “Go to fucking hell!”

You only stop when the fear numbs and you realise he’s no longer moving. Blood soaks both his shirt and yours, and you push yourself off him. His dead, milky eyes stare at you. When you catch a candle guttering in your periphery, you grab it. Crouch with it in your hand. Light him on fire. The flames spread along his clothes, and that’s how you leave him.

Ashes. Bloodied, dead ashes.

***

Joel and Ellie have fought their way through a blizzard. He’s surprised he’s still upright, but he saw bodies hanging in the stable and he can’t collapse now. Not for Ellie, and not for you. This community is built on something worse than infected or fascism, and when he found your jacket, your backpack, in that same room as the corpses…

He can’t see anything but red and white.

Ellie stops behind him suddenly. “Did you hear that?”

“What?” He catches his breath, looking around. There’s a long building close by, but he hasn’t seen any movement yet.

A scream rents through the air, and he knows it’s you. His heart picks up, stomach plummeting as he runs around to find the entrance. And there you are, collapsing out of the doorway.

He says your name as he catches your wrist, and you instantly cower away, screaming. “Please, no! Please, don’t!”

He’s never heard you beg for anything before, and his world tilts on its axis. What the fuck have they done to you?

“Baby, it’s me!” He draws you close, cupping your jaw with his palms. Your eyes are haunted, face pale, and there’s blood. So much blood. You’re still fighting him, pushing on his chest, and he stumbles back. “It’s me. Look at me. It’s me, darlin’. It’s Joel!”

Your breaths are ragged as realisation finally dawns across your features. “Joel,” you whisper.

“It’s me,” he says again, eyes filling with tears.

Your gaze moves to Ellie, and only then do you crumple. He catches you just before you fall to your knees, straining against his injury. “Oh, baby. Oh, baby girl,” he murmurs into your hair. “I’m here now. I’m here now. You’re okay.”

Sobs wrack through you and he wraps his arms around you, holding on so tight he worries he might hurt you. But you clutch his shoulders just as hard, fingernails digging through his coat. You shake beneath him, and his own tears drip onto his cheeks. He pulls away quickly to look you up and down. Blood streaks through your hair.

“Where are you hurt, baby? Tell me where it hurts.”

You shake your head. “I… I don’t know. I don’t know, Joel. I don’t…”

It’s like you’re not even here with him, and he wants to break. But he has to stay upright for you. He has to be strong for you. He shrugs his coat off quickly and puts it around you, catching sight of your reddened wrists as you adjust the collar. Those bastards tied you up. Hatred drowns him, and he looks at the building you emerged from only to find orange flames flickering in the window. It must have been you, he knows, and he can at least feel proud of you for that, but still, the thought of what they might have done...

“Alright. Come on. Let’s get out of here.” He pulls you to his chest, offering his other hand out for Elllie. She takes it, looking shaky as she carries both her bag and yours.

“They were… They were eating people, Joel,” you say, voice thick and unrecognisable. “I just wanted to get medicine, and they took me. They took me. They were eating people and he was going to… He wanted…”

“I know,” he murmurs, holding you tighter. “I know.”

You stop without warning. “They said they had medicine. You… We have to go back.”

“No, no, hey.” He laces his fingers through yours. “We ain’t going back there for anything.”

“The infection—” you protest.

“Look at me. I’m here. I’m okay. I just needed to rest is all. We don’t need any medicine now. We just need to get you somewhere safe.” His heart pangs. The fact you’ve been through hell and are still willing to go back to help him… sometimes he wishes you weren’t so damn selfless. He should have been the one protecting you today. It’s his fault you’re here. His fault you’re hurt.

You scrape your hair back and then, looking at your shaky fingers, seem to finally see all the blood. “His blood is in my hair.”

He can at least be relieved it isn’t your own, but the look on your face… he’s never seen so many scars written in one expression.

“I need to get it out. I need…”

“We’re gonna. We’re gonna help you clean up soon, okay?” He tucks your hair away, lost, because he doesn’t know how to do anything else. Doesn’t know how to make it all go away. “I’m so sorry, baby.” His voice cracks.

Your chest heaves with a stifled sob as you rub your hands and look out towards the lake. “Oh, god.”

Joel closes his eyes, wrought with regret. At his side, Ellie turns her gaze to the floor. It’s his worst fear come true. The reason he’d tried to get Tommy on board with taking Ellie the rest of the way.

He’d failed again. Was always failing.

All he can do is hold you close as you fall apart.

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erodasfishtacos · 1 year

Text

Always Choose You

Happy 2 Years of ErodasFishTacos ♥️

Hi, my loves. Long time, no see! I am coming up on my second year of writing and wanted to celebrate with everyone.

I posted this on my patreon and wanted to share the twins with everyone. Thank you for all the support from everyone over the past two years.

I am still no longer posting regularly on here but I want to give everybody a little something ❤️

prompt: follow MLB!H and YN through nine months of pregnancy with the twins

word count: 10k+

warnings: smut, angsts, birth

Easton is 10, Cash is 8, Ezra is 6, Briar is 4 :)

I really hope you enjoy! Please let me know your thoughts!

love you all so much

isla x

two months; eight weeks

Harry was sniffling the whole ride home.

He had managed to keep it together through the rest of the appointment but as soon as they got in the car, he lost it and was crying.

YN asked twice whether he was okay because she couldn’t quite decipher whether they were happy or not after a few minutes but Harry had just squeezed her thigh and said he was ‘okay’ even though she felt like he was breathing a bit too hard.

“Can you pull over?” YN asks a few minutes away from their house, it was all woods surrounding them as they drove up to where they were tucked away in privacy from the world.

“Of course, do you feel nauseous?” Harry answers instantly but he’s already pulling off on the side of the road - there wasn’t any houses or other cars near them.

“Get out with me for a minute,” YN says instead as she opens the passenger door, waiting until Harry walks around the car with a bit of a perplexed expression but as soon as he’s in front of her, she presses his body back against the car.

“I can’t tell for certain but I feel like your about to have a panic attack. The tears and how fast your chest is moving up and down. Are you scared that it’s twins?”

Harry squeezes his eyes shut and shudders out a shaky breath, shaking his head ‘no’ before actually mumbling, “It…I couldn’t be happier that we’re having twins. It’s a dream come true to have one more baby than we bargained for.”

“Then what is it, H?” YN frowns as she uses the sleeve of her hoodie to wipe the tears off his cheeks as they continuously run down, she hasn’t seen him like this in a long time and it was starting to make her worried.

“I…” Harry swallows harshly, avoiding her eye contact that he normally never did, “I feel like I’m having trouble breathing, I think am having a panic attack because I’m so in my head right now and I am so worried…”

“Harry,” YN replies firmly, putting her hand over his heart, “What are you worried about? The babies are healthy and growing normally -“

“S’not about the babies,” Harry shakes his head again.

“Baby, I’m not a mind-reader,” YN reminds him as she feels how fast his heart is beating, “If it’s not about the babies, then what is it about?”

Harry blinks up at her, hesitating as he wipes his face, “You. I…As soon as she said twins. I know it’s going to be so much for you and it’s not what we planned - to have two more. I didn’t even ask how you were feeling. And now I’m worrying that you felt pressured to have more children and if that leads you to resent me because of the twins.”

YN can’t help but snort out a laugh, “You’re absurd, you know that?”

Harry’s face drops into a boyish pout, “Don’t laugh at me.”

“You’re having a panic attack over something that isn’t even happeninf, H,” YN soothes, using a nicer tone as she wraps her arms around his narrow waist and nuzzles her face into his chest.

“I came to you asking for another baby, I’m sure you remember. I know you wouldn’t have minded more children but I knew you would have been okay with my decision if I didn’t want more. I want both of these babies and now I can’t picture just being pregnant with one. Please stop worry and go back to being happy about it.”

“I’m so happy,” Harry murmurs into her hair as he hugs her closer, “I can’t believe that we are going to have two more bubs running around our house. I think East, Cash, and Ezzie are going to be so excited. Briar may lose her mind not being the baby anymore.”

“Or what if she’s not the only girl too?” YN giggles because she can imagine Briar either loving a sister or having to transition to the idea of it.

“I can’t imagine it, I feel like you’re a boy mama beside her,” Harry smiles, his heart rate already going back to normal, “I love you with everything in me and more. I am so grateful for everything you do for us and continue to do. This family wouldn’t be without you.”

YN pulls back to smile back at her husband, “Do you want to have a quickie in the car before we go home?”

“Hey, I was trying to be romantic and sweet,” Harry remarks as a surprise laugh comes from his chest, his hand moving down to smack her bum lightly as if to scold her.

“So is that a no?”

“The answer to that question will never be no,” Harry’s voice drops lower, predictable as always, “Get your arse in the backseat.”

When they get home from the doctor, Anne is sat in the backyard as all four of the children run around on the playset and sandbox, Easton and Cash chasing each other around as Briar and Ezra look to be having a tea party with their dolls and stuffies.

“Is there good news?” Anne asks hopefully as Harry and YN take a seat on the lounger next to her; the kids hadn’t spotted them quite yet.

“Mum,” Harry can’t tamper down how wide his smile is, “We’re having twins.”

Anne’s eyes widen comically before they start to water, “I’m going to have two more grandbabies? Are you pulling my leg?”

YN riffles through her purse to pull out the sonogram where baby one and two are labeled, they’re tiny and still look like little blobs but they’re there nonetheless.

“My goodness,” Anne puts a hand up to her mouth, eyes watering as she stares at the little picture in her hand, “Two more to love. I’m so happy for you two.”

Anne leans over, tugs YN into a tight hug and it feels like a flashback to when they first told her about Easton.

YN shakily hands over the sonogram to Anne, Harry had his hand firm on her shoulder to remind that he was there.

“Look at how much he’s growing ,” Anne coos as she traces her finger over the photograph, “He’s looking so big!”

“Doctor said he looks completely healthy, labs came back and they were all as they should be,” Harry smiles proudly, his hand moving around to cradle the bump.

“You guys are so excited aren’t you,” Anne grins as she looks between the two of them - the excitement and love was obvious.

“I know we’re young but we are so excited to have this baby. We will be graduated from college and in New York for Harry. It will be a new journey but we are so incredibly happy.”

“That’s all that matters,” Anne hums as she pulls them into a strong hug, “Happy kids and a healthy grandbaby.”

Anne quickly tucks the picture under her thigh when all the children realize their parents are home at last.

Briar crawling up onto YN’s lap and cuddles right into her chest with a whiney, “Mama, mama, mama.”

“I’m right here. We were just gone for a little, hm? Being such a good girl for nana,” YN coos as Briar blinks heavily, she was just about ready for a nap, and that girl loved her sleep.

“Daddy,” Briar lazily reaches over to tug at Harry’s shirtsleeve to get his attention before tucking herself back into the cradle of YN’s arm.

“Hi lil’ mama, I see you,” Harry leans over to kiss her forehead and smooth out a stray curl but lets out an ‘oomph’ when three rambunctious boys jump on him at the same time, “Were you three monsters good for nana?”

They all chime out a giggly ‘yes’ as they cling on their father, excited both their parents are home with them.

“Alright, m’going to give you three a head start. I’m going to count to five and then I’m going to get you!” Harry growls which makes the boys all squeal and begin to run back into the yard.

Harry bolts after them, wasting no time in tackling Easton who’s laughing so hard he has tears streaming down his face.

Briar starts grumbling and squirming around, she is serious about her sleep, she blinks up at YN and says, “Nap, mama. Now.”

“You’re such an amazing mother,” Anne puts her hand on YN’s knee with a soft smile, “I can’t wait to see what this journey brings you.”

month three; 16 weeks

The smallest bump was starting to show on YN’s belly and it was easy to cover with an oversized shirt or hoodie but while she was standing at the mirror, it was obvious to see.

Harry was still in season, traveling, and her bump was changing with such frequency that she looked just a little bit different every time that Harry saw her.

They had to tell the children soon, YN didn’t know how some of them would respond - they knew that Ezra would be excited but she couldn’t guarantee the rest of them.

YN was eager to show Harry that her little bump had started to protrude, she started to show maybe a few weeks later into pregnancy with the others but since she was growing two - she assumed that she would get bigger faster and that seemed to be proving right.

That night, Harry was getting in from Denver and as always, he loved when YN stayed up and waited but he assured her she didn’t need to.

He knew how tired she was by the end of the night from parenting all day, sometimes he found her asleep from where she valiantly tried to wait up but ended up dozing off on the couch.

Harry comes in through the garage, dropping his suitcase and duffle entryway before he goes about grabbing a water bottle and seeing if there’s any leftovers from dinner.

He feels stupid that he gets butterflies in his stomach when he sees a container of chicken, rice, and vegetables with a post-it note that just has the initial H with a heart.

When he puts it in the microwave, YN must hear that because she’s padding into the kitchen in one of Harry’s shirts and just a pair of underwear.

“Mama,” Harry rasps, his voice worn from yelling during the games, “C’mere, I missed you so fucking much.”

YN walks right into his arms, allowing Harry to wrap her in a tight hug before he’s pulling back to kiss her nose then lips.

“I missed you too. I hate when you leave us, never gets easier,” YN sighs sadly and that was something that happened during every pregnancy.

YN always misses Harry when he is gone but when she was pregnant was the only time her hormones were off and she got angry about it before crying and apologizing.

“You know I’m never gone for longer than I need to be. And anytime I’m away, I’m thinking about home,” Harry murmurs sweetly, ignoring the alarm of the microwave signaling his food’s done, “Thank you for leaving me dinner. You always surprise me.”

YN steps back suddenly with an excited grin, taking enough room back so Harry can see her fully, “Speaking of surprises, I have another one.”

Harry squints at her with skepticism, leans up against the counter, “Whassit?”

YN lifts up her shirt and holds it under her breasts, turning to the side, and looking back at Harry to see his reaction.

He just stares at it for a moment in silence before his eyes find hers but he’s holding her gaze for no longer than a second before he’s glancing back down at her belly.

“S’a bump,” Harry whispers gleefully before he is scurrying forward to cradle her tummy in his hands, “It’s little but it’s there. You’ve never showed this early but it’s because we got two of ‘em in there. Oh my god, this is the best surprise.”

YN is always grateful with how attentive he is to her pregnancy, some women she’s friends with - their husbands can’t even remember what trimester there is, let alone week or what their bump looked like from the last pregnancy.

“Let me take a picture,” Harry reaches for his phone in his pocket, taking a few steps back to take a picture of his wife smiling down at where her babies are growing, “Fuck, you’re the most beautiful thing on this earth.”

And right when he’s about to put his phone away, YN says, “Wait, one more picture!”

And when Harry brings his phone back up, YN being the cheeky thing she is, pulls her shirt up until her breasts are revealed - soft but perky as she shakes them at the camera.

Harry definitely snaps more than one picture before he’s slipping his phone in his pocket, “S’that how it’s going to be? You like knowing there’s pictures of your tits on my phone, look at ‘em constantly when I’m away.”

“That’s all you have on your phone?” YN teases with a smirk, knowing there’s a double passcode protected album that contains much more than that.

“Got a pretty nice variety,” Harry drawls, his voice deep with arousal as he begins to stalk towards her, “Your tits, your bum, my cock in you, the list goes on, baby.”

YN giggles as he presses her back into the counter by crowding into her space, the ledge at the lower of her back, and his dinner completely forgotten- he was hungry for something else.

“You’re so easy,” YN tells him for the millionth time in their relationship because she can get him going by just existing.

And Harry replies often in the same way, “I’m demi and I’m only attracted to you. Imagine being married to the most attractive person in the world and that’s what it’s like for me. I am married to the person I’m most and only attracted to, it’s a dream.”

“You’re the most attractive person in the world to me,” YN replies sweetly because it’s true, he is the hottest man on this earth and no one could tell her elsewise.

“Show me then, take me out, pet,” Harry murmurs in the filthiest tone, his athletic shorts showing clearly that he was plumped and ready for her.

YN was just about the tug down on the waistband when a cry echoed out through the house.

The noise came from the top of the staircase because there was a gate up because YN didn’t want any of the children to be half asleep and take a tumble.

It was Briar without a doubt as she cried out, “Mama, daddy.”

“She has not been sleeping well,” YN sighs, patting Harry’s hip, “Reheat your dinner and then come upstairs.”

This was a common occurrence that they had to get used to with a household of children, they were going to get interrupted.

Harry gives a sad little pout but nods, giving her a kiss and a smack on the bum before YN’s disappearing back to the foyer to the staircase.

He can hear Briar’s desperate little whines when she sees her mother, “Mama, mama, hold me, please. Where’s daddy?”

His heart breaks a little bit, YN responds too softly for him to hear but he quickly turns the microwave back on and scarfs down his dinner.

When he found them, YN had brought Briar into their bed which he didn’t mind one bit, and wasn't going to turn down a cuddle from his two favorite girls.

Briar looks up happily from where she’s cuddled into her mother, “Daddy, you’re home. I missed you.”

And it is the sweetest sentiment but he hates that his kids have to miss him, he knows it’s going to be two times harder when he has two more babies to leave at home.

He can’t share it with YN until Briar drifts off to sleep because the kids don’t know about the babies yet but they won’t be able to hide it for much longer.

“How am I going to leave you and them after the twins are born?” Harry murmurs softly after Briar had finally fell back asleep between the two of them.

“The same way you have the past four times,” YN says back as she reaches over to brush at his curls that Briar had run her hands through, “It will be okay.”

“Six kids,” Harry replies with a frown, “I will feel like shit for leaving you, every single time. More than I do now.”

“Have I not handled it well these past ten years? Since Easton was a baby?” YN asks and there’s a bit of defensiveness in her voice like he’s offended her abilities.

“Mama,” Harry titters because he didn’t want his own anxiety to be misconstrued, “It doesn’t have anything to do with you. You do such a fucking good job. We have four perfect amazing kids. It’s more about me, I guess, not being a good enough husband or dad.”

“But you are,” YN reassured him fiercely, “You are the best provider. You provide for me so that I can stay home and raise our babies. You make sure our children have anything they could ever need or want on top of always being present, even when you’re away.”

Harry turns his face to where her hand is on her cheek and kisses her palm, “Are you worried about having six kids at home without me sometimes?”

YN shakes her head, “I always have your mom’s help. Plus Easton, Cash, and Ezra will be in school full time and Briar will be in preschool three days a week before she’s off to kindergarten.”

“I never want you to feel like when I’m away you have to do this on your own.”

“Why do you talk like you abandon me? I’m never on my own. I always have you. I know that if I needed you, you would get on a flight in half a minute.”

He would. He one hundred percent would.

four months; 16 weeks

The bump was noticeable now.

YN could still get away with loose clothing which she has been doing but if the fabric clings anywhere near her belly it’s obvious.

Tonight was when they were going to tell the kids about their new siblings and they didn’t know how they were going to take it.

YN had her bet that Easton would be the least thrilled while Harry bet on Briar having a tantrum over it.

They were both wrong.

It was just after dinner, the sun hadn’t set yet but it was starting to creep below the trees that surrounded their estate to keep everyone out.

YN had made cupcakes and each child was eagerly unwrapping the baking paper to get to the sprinkles and icing.

“Okay, Mama and I have some news,” Harry announces when they had settled back down and were working their ways through dessert.

“S’it good or bad news?” Easton asks through a mouthful of a vanilla cupcake, blue icing coating his lips.

“We definitely think it’s good news,” YN smiles and she felt nervousness in her stomach over delivering the news and Harry could sense it so he took the reins.

“Mama is pregnant,” Harry announces which makes all the children look in a bit of confusion to which Cash interrupts.

“Does that mean you can’t have peanuts? I think Landon is pregnant in my class,” Cash remarks as Easton snickers at his cluelessness which makes him whine.

“That’s an allergy,” Harry chuckles as he clarifies, “It means that mama has babies growing in her belly. Usually, it’s just one. But we were extra lucky and mama has two in her stomach which means you’re going to be getting two brothers or sisters.”

Easton looks absolutely thrilled as he chirps, “Really? That means two more people playing games with us! That means Marco Polo in the pool will be even better!”

Ezra squeals with joy, clapping his hands, and squirming in his seat when he giggles, “I can help mama with the babies!”

Briar is still so little that she’s a bit confused but has a smile on her face.

She seems to like what Ezra says and agrees, “Take care of babies with mama and Ez.”

As for Cash, his brow is furrowed and he had stopped eating his cupcake, silent for a moment before he melts down.

“No! No babies! I don’t want a stupid baby,” Cash shouts angrily as he throws his cupcake on the floor before shoving out of his chair and storming away.

He marches toward the back sliding door that connects to the kitchen, opening it before running out into the backyard where YN and Harry watch him climb up into the tree house they have built.

None of the kids typically acted out like that and it left the three of them in disbelief that Cash had thrown his cupcake and ran outside without permission.

“Cash is in troubleee,” Easton giggles as looks down at the marble floor smeared with sprinkles and icing with a splattered cupcake.

“Easton,” YN says with a firm look.

He zips his lips quick and finds interest in his cupcake wrapper.

“That wasn’t good. Why did he do that, daddy?” Ezra asks within concern as he watches Harry bend down to pick up the thrown food and wipe the floor with a napkin.

“Well sometimes when people have really big feelings, they struggle to express it without doing something. Cash was angry and he didn’t know how to convey it so he threw his food and ran outside,” Harry explains calmly, “So we will talk to Cash about how to express that better and what you guys can do is show him lots of love. Okay?”

“Yes, daddy,” Ezra agrees sweetly and Harry has to lean down to kiss his forehead because he’s just the sweetest boy.

“I’m sorry I laughed,” Easton sniffles as he glances down, “I wasn’t trying to be mean.”

“East,” YN coos softly, quickly making her way over to lean down and hug him, “It’s okay, baby. We know it wasn’t like that, we just have to be considerate of others feelings. No tears, baby.”

“I’m not a baby,” Easton giggles through a few stray tears as his mama blows a raspberry on his cheek to brighten him up.

“You’ll always be my first baby,” YN assures him as she smothers him in love, “My baby Easton, always my bubba.”

Harry’s heart is a puddle of goo as he watches them.

“We should go check on him,” YN murmurs as she ruffles Easton’s curls, “Can you three please go in the den and put on a movie? We will be right back. We’ll just be in the backyard if you need us, okay?”

They agree before Easton is shuffling Ezra and Briar out of the room who are already chattering about what movie to put on.

YN and Harry make their way outside, down to the stump of the tree before Harry calls up, “Cash, can we please come up? S’just me and your mama.”

There’s a minute of silence before there’s a weepy, “Yes.”

Harry and YN make their way up into the little one-room tree house that had a few books and toys scattered about.

Cash was tucked in the corner, looking out the window with damp cheeks.

Harry and YN don’t try to get into his space, staying at the other side of the treehouse, and Cash refuses to look at them.

“Baby, can you please tell us what you're thinking?” YN prompts in her most soothing voice, she hated seeing Cash like this who was normally the most upbeat, carefree, goofy one.

“A-am I in trouble for throw-throwing the cupcake and coming ou-outside without permission?” Cash whimpers, stuttering through the sentence because he was crying so hard.

“No, you’re not in trouble,” Harry tells him in a tone that matches YN’s, “We know we just told you something really big and it’s okay to have big feelings. Next time, we would like you to talk instead of doing those things but you’re not in trouble, bub.”

Cash finally looks at them, green eyes watery and his bottom lip wobbling, “What if Easton doesn’t want to play with me anymore? What if Ezra and Briar like the new babies better than me?”

“Is that what you’re worried about?” Harry asks with his own frown.

“Yes because Easton said more fun with games. Briar and Ezzie were excited too,” Cash pouts but his body language is more open.

When Harry opens his arms, Cash takes the invitation to move over to let Harry wrap him in a tight hug.

At eight, Cash still liked a cuddle but not as often and for Harry it was nice to have his little boy want that once again as he buried his face in Harry’s chest.

“Easton is excited to have more people to play with but that doesn’t mean he won’t want to play with you. Same with Ezra and Briar. The new babies won’t be replacing you. No one could replace you,” Harry murmurs against his son’s identical chocolate curls, “Everyone loves you so so much.”

“Promise, dad?” Cash asks, voice muffled but the words were still clear.

“I promise the twins being born will be a good thing and just make everything more fun. We would never do anything to hurt you,” Harry promises as he rocks his son a bit, a special moment he’ll never forget.

YN gives them some alone time as she goes back in the house, stepping into the den to see that all three are on the couch, and watching Moana.

Easton despises Moana so YN knows he let his little siblings decide because she could see the boredom written all over his face.

She steps over and plops next to him, whispering in his ear, “Thank you for helping. You can have another cupcake if you want one.”

And with that, Easton’s off the couch and scurrying off to get an extra helping of dessert like it was the best prize in the world.

Ezra and Briar peek over at their mother before looking back at each other before her son’s speaking up, “Mama, can we see the babies?”

“Of course, you can,” YN hums as she leans backwards against the couch, pulling up her shirt to reveal the bump.

“They’re in there?” Briar whispers in awe, both of their hands coming to roam over the skin, “What are they doing?”

“They’re getting big and strong,” Ezra chirps in knowledgeably as he leans down to lay his head on her belly, “But we can still cuddle ‘em.”

“Okay,” Briar agrees before adjusting her position too, both of them now focus back on the movie with their heads resting on her.

About fifteen minutes later, Harry’s coming into the den with Cash on his back, arms around his neck, and he’s belly laughing at whatever Harry is singing to him before he’s collapsing on the couch with him, acting like he’s going to squish him.

“Daddy, no!” Cash howls with humor as he lightly smacks his dad’s back before he cuts off which concerns Harry so he follows Cash’s gaze.

Cash was staring at his two younger siblings who were cuddled up against the bump in his mama’s stomach.

YN and Harry both share a concerned glance, unsure of whether this would set him off again after Harry just spent the time to calm him down.

“Mama,” Cash’s voice is shaky again but this time he sounds nervous.

“Yes, baby?”

“Can, um… Can I have a cuddle with the babies too?” He asks hesitant before adding, “I will be nice, not like earlier.”

“Come here, sweet boy,” YN titters as she beckons him over, Ezra moves over back towards his original position on the couch so that Cash can have his turn as his eyes stay glued to the screen.

Cash cautiously moves over until his head is rested by Briar, YN’s hand coming to run her fingers through his unruly curls as he wriggles to get comfortable.

“Just because you got angry earlier doesn’t mean you’re not nice,” YN reminds him, “It’s okay to be upset that there’s going to be a change.”

“Daddy said that Easton, Ezra, and Briar will still want to play with me.”

“Of course they will,” YN soothes with a chuckle, “You’re still going to be just as special to daddy, me, East, Ez, and Briar. That will never change.”

“I think I’m excited then,” Cash mumbles as his eyes start to droop, tired from all the activity, and soon after, his breathing had evened out and he was fast asleep with his head on the bump.

month five; 20 weeks

There was an uptick in paparazzi as soon as people caught wind that Harry Styles was expecting baby number five (and six).

Which in turn, made his protectiveness go up nearly tenfold - always concerned about his wife and children’s safety around aggressive, photo-hungry people.

They weren’t trying to hide the pregnancy, at this point, YN’s bump was big enough that it was unmistakable what it was.

It started at the grocery store when someone snapped a blurry picture of YN reaching for a box of cereal and her bump was obvious.

The next day it was all over the news.

Styles with Baby Five on the Way!

How Many Kids Does Harry Styles Want?

Accident or Planned? YN Styles Pregnant!

Harry Styles Net Worth Just Hit $600 Million - A Baby To Celebrate?

YN stayed out of the media, she wasn’t active on social media or trying to be an influencer - she wasn’t ever interested in that and so in turn, people dubbed YN as mysterious because they did not know much about her.

Harry was arguably one of the most famous athletes on earth but despite that, he was just as private in his personal life.

He was constantly being put on all the major sports networks, he was on television usually three times a week during a game, and then post-games interviews after that.

Harry did interviews on television, in magazines but he always made sure that the main thing he was talking about was his career and not his personal life.

Did he like to throw in how much he loved his wife and kids? Sure but he wasn’t eager to share anymore than that usually.

It will never feel normal to have paparazzi following her and she especially hates it when she has the kids without Harry.

A group of seven or eight photographers decided that it was perfectly acceptable to plant themselves at one of Easton’s baseball games to try to get more pictures of YN’s bump.

Harry was in the city for a photoshoot for Nike but he was going to be on his way to the game if he wasn’t done already.

YN was on edge because she’s trying to watch Easton play but all she can focus on is a group of men with long lenses that are all pointed at her.

Normally the other kids would go play on the playground but YN didn’t trust those men and made them right by her side with the photographers around which made them all a bit miserable and whiny.

It was also embarrassing because YN could tell it made the other families attending the game uncomfortable and they all knew it was because of her.

The biggest concern was when Harry shows up because YN knows that he will absolutely flip when he sees a group of men with cameras pointed towards his pregnant wife and little children.

And she was a hundred percent right.

YN (and honestly the other parents) watches as a tinted, sleek matte black SUV pulls into the parking lot and the vehicle is unmistakably Harry’s, and by the way he slams on the break, throws the car in park, and is getting out of the car with agitation.

He’s a bit far away from where YN is, she can’t hear everything that’s being said but she does see is Harry storming right over the group of men who quickly turn the camera and video recorders on him.

YN quickly gets up, asking one of the mom’s who she is friends with if she can keep an eye on the three for a moment while she makes sure Harry doesn’t do anything he regrets.

When she gets close enough, Harry’s not yelling but his voice is booming and full of threats as he speaks, “Following me is one thing. Follow m’wife and children to their baseball games, are you fucking insane? Do I have to file a restraining order against all fucking seven of you? You don’t want that or you’ll lose out of all your money shots, you fuckin’ leeches.”

“Harry,” YN interrupts as the photographers try to profusely apologize, the last thing they want is Harry to file a restraining order because he makes them the most money.

Harry’s green eyes are fiery, his fist clenched at his sides, and his shoulders tensed as he stares down the paparazzi who are cowering and taking big steps back (they also probably don’t want their cameras broken).

“Get the fuck out here. If you release any pictures of my children,” Harry grits out, trying to maintain his cool, “I will sue you for everything you’re worth. I’m an adult, I chose this. They didn’t. I won’t hesitate to protect them. Do you understand me?”

They all nod with worried expressions.

“I said, do you fucking understand me?” Harry barks out, demanding verbal confirmation which they all give as soon as he shouts at them, he’s giving them one last dirty look before they’re turning and running to their cars.

Harry waits until they’re all peeling out of the parking lot before he’s turning to YN, who’s looking at him with a pursed expression, he pouts at her, “What?”

“Nothing,” YN shrugs as she intertwines their hands to begin their way back to the field where all the other parents are trying desperately not to stare but they are, “You’re just so hot when you’re being a good dad and husband.”

Cue Harry’s sleazy grin, “Yeah? Does that mean I’ll get some tonight, mama?”

“I’ll consider it,” She hums teasingly, smacking his hand when he moves to get a feel of her bum but when he tries again, she lets him get a good handful as a promise of tonight.

“How are the bubs,” Harry asks as his hand moves to her bump, “Can see your bump from a mile away now. It’s making newspapers everywhere. My pretty pregnant wife.”

YN scoffs as she shakes her head, “I don’t know why but I saw my face on a People Magazine in the grocery store yesterday. It said, ‘A Baby To Save The Marriage’, do you have something to tell me?”

Harry snorts out a laugh, “The day they get a story right will be a magical day in history. Those magazines don’t benefit from healthy marriages and happy families.”

“They really don’t benefit from us then,” YN mumurs as Harry leans over to kiss her temple, “They’re doing good. I thought I felt a flutter of movement earlier but it was only once so I don’t know.”

“I can’t wait to feel them. Just feels like yesterday Briar was kicking at you in the middle of the night and it woke me up,” Harry laughs fondly, “Speaking of Briar.”

As soon as they got close enough, Briar was hurriedly running over to her father who scooped her right up, “Missed you, daddy.”

When they got home and all the kids were asleep, Harry made a few calls to his lawyers about what he can do about the paparazzi showing up at the children’s sporting games and how to prevent their pictures from getting blasted all over the internet.

YN was brushing out her damp hair in their bathroom when she felt that same flutter from earlier but it was stronger, she held her breath hoping that it wasn’t her mind playing tricks on her.

The movement continued which made YN hike up her shirt and touch gently at her stomach, there was definitely a baby or maybe both moving around in there, and she was so excited she dropped her hairbrush.

Without a second thought, she’s walking as fast as her pregnant self will let her down the stairs to the office where Harry’s having a tense conversation based on the sharpness in his tone.

“That’s the only thing that can be done?” Harry snapped at someone, his face was contorted into an angry grimace as he sat in his office chair, feet up on the desk, and twirling his wedding band.

When Harry sees YN standing there with wide eyes and an unreadable expression, he rudely says to whoever is on the other line, “I’ll call you back tomorrow,” before hanging up.

“Everything okay, baby?” Harry worries as he stands up and starts walking towards her.

YN nods before shoving up her shirt again, she grabs his hand as soon as he’s close enough, and puts it right on the middle right of her bump where there’s one of the twins rolling around.

YN doesn’t realize that she has tears streaming down her face until Harry wipes them before kissing her nose, “Why are you crying, mama?”

“I didn’t realize how much I missed the feeling,” YN sniffles with a giggle, they were happy tears, and it was her twins telling her that they’re healthy and growing strong - that she’s doing a good job.

“It’s just like a butterfly,” Harry hums as he squats down, kissing over the spot where one of the babies is moving, and YN’s heart melts at the sight, she loved him so much.

month six; week 24

The sex was going to be a surprise to everyone, they decided just like with their other babies that they wanted it to be a mystery up until their birth.

As they lay in bed, Harry is in his usual position now which was with his head resting on her thighs, just below the bump - he was always waiting to feel a kick or flutter.

“How do you feel about the name Posie for a girl?” Harry hums as they both scroll through their phones on a baby name app.

“Do you think we will have a girl? What if we have two girls?” YN hums in disbelief, “I just can’t imagine Briar having sisters. But no, no to Posie.”

“What about Teddy? Could be for a boy or a girl?” Harry brings after a few minutes later as he favorites that name.

“I love it actually,” YN sits up a bit more, the name instantly connecting for her, “I think I like it best for a boy but I love that name.”

Harry looks at her skeptically, “Did we just come up with one of the names that easily? Can it be that simple?”

YN shrugs with a hand affectionately rubbing at her belly as she says the name out loud again, “Teddy. Teddy Styles. It’s perfect.”

Then for the next few weeks it’s not easy.

Harry will text her a few.

H: Annie, Violet, or Daisy?

YN: Nope.

YN: Lily, Vera, or Mia?

H: No.

Then one day YN texts

YN: I think I found the name. Just like Teddy, it could be for a girl or boy.

H: Try me. I think we have vetoed every name in existence.

YN: Scout.

And as Harry sits in the locker room, supposed to be putting on his gear, he’s struck with absolute joy because it fits so well.

H: Scout and Teddy?

YN: Scout and Teddy.

H: I love them.

YN: We named our babies 🥹

H: I love you, mama ❤️

YN isn’t the same person she was when she had Easton - then she was young, afraid to offend, and eager to please.

And when Gemma had come at her for the unplanned pregnancy, YN had let it flip her whole world upside down and make her feel like absolute garbage for quite a while.

Now, YN was different and for the better - she had no problem standing up for herself when it came to her sister-in-law.

They didn’t spend much time together but YN tolerated her.

Ever since the riff about Easton, Harry’s never been close with her again, and YN knows Gemma puts blame on YN for that but YN couldn’t convince Harry to try to make amends because he didn’t want to.

YN had a feeling as she was cleaning up the dining room after a family dinner with Anne, Dave (her boyfriend), and Gemma that there had to be at least one smart remark.

It comes as YN begins loading the dishwasher while Anne and Dave help Harry wrangle the kids outside to make s’mores in the fire pit.

“Thanks,” YN says to Gemma as she brings in the rest of the plates and silverware from dinner, Gemma nods before leaning against the counter and crosses her arms over her chest.

“So twins, that’s so exciting,” Gemma remarks but her voice is flat and doesn’t sound like the thought of having two more nieces/nephews is that exciting to her.

“It is,” YN nods as she focuses on scrubbing a spot on one of the wine glasses, her hormones had been shifty these past few weeks as to be expected with pregnancy and she didn’t like where this was going.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Gemma prompts with a casually shrug, trying to come off as nonchalant, “I mean four is a lot already and you guys are still young. Six kids by the time you’re thirty and thirty-one? I mean Harry didn’t get to experience any of his twenties.”

YN, who is normally a pro at containing her rage, well that’s not the case tonight because her hormones have her capacity for bullshit at an all time low, she slams down the wine glass in the sink and looks over at Gemma.

“Harry didn’t get to experience his twenties?” YN scoffs with a dangerous edge to her voice, “He became the richest baseball player in history, is the captain of The New York Yankees, is living every dream he had as a child. He experienced more in his twenties than most people ever do.”

Gemma’s lips turn down, she was testing YN and was definitely surprised by the pushback that she was getting.

She had been expecting that she could bully YN and that wasn’t the case, she wasn’t the scared and pregnant twenty year old anymore. She was a grown woman who was secure in her relationship.

“It’s not like that,” Gemma tries to downplay, picking at her nails, “It’s just he could have done more if he didn’t have so many responsibilities at home. I’m just looking out for my little brother.”

YN shuts off the water with a bit more force than necessary before grabbing a hand towel to dry off, “Gemma, I’m so sorry if it offends you the amount of children we decided to have. However, I have some bad news for you. I couldn’t have conceived these babies without Harry and believe me, he wanted our children more than anything else in the world.”

YN continued on as her voice rose louder, “More than money, more than baseball. I know you don’t understand because you don’t have children but I know he would choose me and our babies over baseball and experiencing his twenties a million times over. I’m sorry if that upsets you.”

Then someone is clearing their throat and both women look to see Harry standing in the doorway to the kitchen with furious expression, arms crossed tight across his chest, and the vein on his neck popping in effort to stay calm.

“Get out.”

And Gemma has the nerve to look at YN with a sickeningly sweet smile, as if Harr was telling YN to get out but she knew better and Gemma was too cocky for her own good, honestly delusional at this point.

“Gemma, get the fuck out of my house,” Harry repeats with a louder tone this time, “I don’t know how many chances I have given you to get your shit together but enough is enough.”

Gemma opens her mouth like she’s about to argue but Harry puts his hand up to stop her from even beginnning.

“I don’t want to hear it. Nothing you ever say or do is helping me,” Harry tells her clearly, “And for the record, YN couldn’t be more accurate. I chose her and I chose all six of my children first. Over anything. You have your own life to live, stop trying to control mine.”

“I am just try-“

“God damn it, don’t make me yell,” Harry sighs as he squeezes the bridge of his nose.

“You always pick YN. You’re supposed to pick your family.”

Harry lets out a laugh, loud and obnoxious enough that it even makes YN jump, “For fucks sake, Gemma. Don’t you see? I will always pick YN. I will always pick my children. They are my family. Not you, a poor excuse of a sister.”

And at first, YN’s heart jumps when she sees Ezra wander right up next to Harry and tug on his shorts, unaware of how absolutely seething Harry is.

“Daddy, Easton was telling a scary story and now m’really anxious. Can you help me do my breathing to calm down?”

And Harry snaps out of it instantly, his death glare towards his sister softens when he kneels down to attend to his son.

“Of course, I can. Patricia will be so happy to hear that you used it. Let’s go somewhere quiet, okay?” Harry murmurs to his son before taking his hand and guiding him out of the room without a glance back.

YN just refolds the dish towel, not interested in continuing the argument , and sure as hell not letting it bother her - she just walks out the back door to be with her children outside, leaving Gemma alone.

That night, as Harry and YN shower the smoke from the campfire off of them, he cradles her bump and holds her stare, firmly telling her once again.

“I will always choose you. I will always choose our children.”

month seven; week twenty eight

YN accompanied Harry to Los Angeles for five days while Anne watched the children back at home - a little babymoon if you will.

However, it was proving a bit difficult to actually do anything they were looking forward to because of how big YN’s bump was getting.

“My thigh is cramping,” YN moans uncomfortably from where she’s lying on her back, Harry holding one of her legs bent near his chest but when he hears her complaint, he pulls out.

“You want to ride me?” Harry asks with little to no other suggestion because the bump was on the way in almost every position.

“You really think that I can lift myself up and down right now?” YN bites out with no real sharpness, she had sweat beading at her temples already and she was only one orgasm in from his mouth.

“I can just use my mouth again?” He suggests as he massages the muscles in her thigh that are twitching, YN felt bad because she could physically see how much he wanted it.

She wanted it too.

“No no, I want to,” YN puffs a stray hair off her forehead before she gets an idea, “Just spoon me from behind.”

Harry helps her lay down on her side before cozying up behind her - his lips teasing at the nape of her neck as he guides himself in, both of them moaning in relief when he begins to pump in and out.

“Yes,” YN mewls in relief as it starts to feel good, Harry moves to get his hand between her thighs to rub at her clit but the bump is in the way, “I can without it,” She assures him breathlessly as he kisses her shoulder and moves up to play with her swollen nipples instead.

“There we go,” Harry groans in pleasure as his forehead drops to her shoulder, she could tell he was trying to keep his pace steady but he was struggling, “God, you always feel so fuckin’ good f’me. No wonder I fuckin’ see you in my dreams, darling.”

It wasn’t the dirtiest thing out of his mouth ever but it was enough to release that band of tension in her lower stomach to make her find her second relief quickly.

As soon as she was taken care of, Harry was picking up the speed of his hips, even though she was sensitive, it still felt good to know that she was making her husband feel just as amazing as she did - she loved feeling his tensing ab muscles against her back, his thighs working right behind hers.

“S’good,” Harry grits out as he starts to finish, “Fuck, you always make me come so hard.”

After Harry pulls out, he grabs a cold washcloth from the bathroom before running it over YN’s overheated body, don’t get her wrong - the sex was phenomenal as always but with two babies only two months away from being born pressing on her insides, it took a lot more out of her.

“Baby,” Harry chuckles as he runs it over her forehead, “You should have told me it was too much. You’re still breathing heavy.”

“It felt so good though, H. Wanted it,” YN whines, wrapping her hand around his wrist and he gets the hint, running the cold over her skin once again.

“Maybe we should just stick to mouth stuff until the babies are born?” He suggests softly before patting her with a dry towel.

YN snorts out a laugh, “Mouth stuff? Are we in high school?”

“Heyy,” Harry huffs as he tries to stop a smile from appearing in his face, “M’just trying to be thoughtful and you’re making fun of me.”

YN pulls him down for another kiss, “I think you’re right though. I feel like I just ran a marathon and all I did was lay there and take it.”

“Yeah but you looked so fuckin’ sexy taking it,” Harry murmurs against her lips, his hand rubbing over her taut skin.

“Don’t need to charm me, already got six babies out of me,” YN jokes which now it’s Harry’s then to snort out a laugh.

“Never going to stop trying to charm you, mama,” Harry assures her as he lays back down next to her and yawns

eight months; 37 weeks

Dr. Riviera had informed them that twins typically didn’t make it past thirty-eight weeks, it wasn’t common, and that twins usually came out weighing a bit less because they had to share space and resources.

Even though the doctor can only predict, she didn’t see why YN would carry to thirty-eight weeks with how well the babies were developing and they didn’t seem to be wanting to move anytime soon.

Anne had been staying with them because she was going to help with the children for a little bit after the twins were born and she wanted to be there to watch them when YN went into labor.

Harry was in the city for a sponsorship meeting with Gatorade when his phone began to buzz in the middle of the meeting.

He didn’t care that he was being rude when everyone in the room was speaking to him but he just gets up out of his seat and leaves the room when he sees that his wife is calling.

“Mama, everything okay?” Harry asks nervously, ignoring the looks he’s getting from the men in suits as he exits the conference room into the empty corridor, making sure his car keys are in his pocket.

“Don’t sound so scared,” YN chuckles softly, sounding completely okay, “I just called to see what you were craving for dinner.”

False alarm.

That same night though, it wasn’t.

Harry and YN went to bed at a decent time after getting all the children down, probably around ten thirty when they drifted off after a long day in the city and with the kids.

It was when Harry woke up around two in the morning when YN shook him a bit, as he blinks his eyes open and turns on the bedside lamp - he realizes the sweat was gathering at YN”s brow and the vein in her forehead was popping.

“Ca-Can you help me get to the bathroom?” She panted, out of breath, “I think I’m going into labor. I need to pee. O-Oh fuck.”

Harry quickly jumps out of bed to help guide her to the bathroom before getting her back into the bedroom, “What do you want to do-“

Just as he asks, YN lets out a low groan and a splash of fluid trickles down her legs and onto the carpet - water breaking right as they speak, “H, they-they’re coming soon. Please, I think we need to go.”

Harry was shaking with nervousness as he loaded up the hospital bag, woke Anne to let her know what was going on, and they were off to have their twins in less than twenty minutes.

Harry was surprised just how quickly her labor was progressing, with the other four, it was a slower, more tedious process of hours and hours of dilation before there was any pushing.

But YN is gritting her teeth, tears streaking her cheeks as she tells Harry, “Please, baby. Drive as fast as you can. I-I need to push. I need to, they’re coming fast. I need to push.”

“Okay, okay,” Harry grips the wheel, he know he can’t drive in a way that could get them in an accident but he really didn’t want his wife to have the babies on the side of the road.

Luckily, the hospital wasn’t more than fifteen minutes away and he calls shakily ahead so that they know to expect them.

As soon as they have an IV hooked up, YN’s changed into a hospital gown, and in a hospital bed - they’re encouraging her to push, no time for an epidural which was proving hard for YN.

“It hurts so fucking bad,” YN cries as she squeezes Harry’s hand with all of her her might, it was moving fast and they hadn’t been in the hospital for more than half and hour and the doctor was telling them he expected the twins to come soon, “It hurts to push.”

Harry has the utmost respect for his wife. He can’t possibly even begin to imagine the tremoundous pain that she’s agreed to put herself through so that they could have more children.

He’s already a sniffling mess when the doctor announces that she’s crowning.

“Mama, they have so much hair,” Harry chuckles as he looks to see, moving to kiss her hand, “You’re so close. I can’t wait to see what we’re having. A boy or a girl. You’re doing so good, baby.”

“One more push,” The nurse encourages and YN is squeezing her eyes shut and groaning as she uses all of her might to give a long, hard push.

Harry’s so distracted by watching YN that he doesn’t even realize that push had been enough for their baby to come out, only realizing that one had been born when a high-pitched cry pierces the room.

“Baby number one is a boy,” The doctor announces before the nurses are working on cleaning off the baby and doing all their routine tests.

“A boy,” YN says breathlessly, blinking tearfully at Harry, “Wa-wait, I need to push again. Will the other one come just as fast?” YN directs the question at the medical staff.

“Typically they come out without minutes of each other,” The nurse smiles as she wipes YN’s forehead with a cold rag.

“Gonna give us our other baby?” Harry murmurs distractedly, he was watching as they put the baby on the scale before rubbing it off with a clean towel to get off the fluid - he was memorized until he was snapped back when YN is howling out another grunt of effort before the second piercing cry of the night echos through the room.

“Baby number two is also a boy,” The doctor calls out before passing off the other baby, “Good job, mom. Really got those babies out fast and with no pain medication, very impressive.”

YN’s exhausted as she tries to catch her breath, “Two boys, H. Two boys.”

Is anyone surprised that Harry is full on sobbing happy tears by the time that the babies are laid on YN’s chest where she cradles them closely, tears streaming down her cheeks as well.

“Two more boys. Five boys and one girl,” YN giggles happily as she leans down to nuzzle her nose against each one of their cheeks as Harry caresses YN’s hair and watches on in awe.

“You did such an amazing job,” Harry sniffles as he leans up to kiss YN’s temple, “I am so proud of you. Look at what you did, mama. Gave us two healthy boys, you did it.”

“Mmm,” YN hums tiredly, chuckling when one starts rooting which Harry helps adjust her gown to help the baby find what it was looking for, “And they’re latching with no issues. This is perfect.”

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” Harry says firmly as he can’t get his heartbeat to slow, “And you gave us two more perfect babies.”

“I love them so much already,” YN whispers as she watches the baby eat hungrily with the cutest little coos as they can barely keep their eyes open, “Teddy Reese and Scout Hudson.”

“Our little Teddy and Scout,” Harry repeats in disbelief of his life, of how he couldn’t ask for anything better, “Welcome to the family.”

#mlbrry #mlb!verse #mlb!harry #mlb!harry masterlist #erodasfishtacos masterlist #file

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amourdivine · 3 months

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PAC ઉ YOUR CURRENT ENERGY!

Hello, lovelies, I know it has been some time, but I missed you. I hope everyone is doing ok these days. Let's look into your energy today, shall we?

paid readings are closed as of february 2024

none of the images are mine unless stated otherwise!

pick a card masterlist & information

the piles.

1 → 2 3 → 4

how to choose your pile. take deep breaths for a few minutes & look at each and every one of the piles separately. see which one brings you to a feeling, a place or a memory. take your time and feel free to come back to it later.

disclaimer. this is a general reading! tarot is a divination tool & is not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i do not take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings.

PILE ONE

queen of cups ✧ death ✧ ace of swords ✧ the high priestess

Before I shuffled, I couldn’t help but feel lonely, like there’s this pang in my chest whenever I think of life and the current state of the world. It reminds me of the term “loneliness epidemic” and how so many of us are struggling to make friends or maintain pre-existing relationships. I think you are beginning to find emotional fulfillment in different things than you did before. Nothing may have worked out - at least, the things that used to work out aren’t working out anymore. There’s this voice inside of you begging for a new beginning, for clarity, and it’s slow but surely coming towards you. Where your energy is will wildly depend on how much you’ve listened to that inner voice already, but it’s a calling towards something new, regardless.

I think you’re scared because you haven’t done this before. You may be discovering things about yourself as well that are quite surprising, like new hobbies or gifts. It’s refreshing too, both painful and refreshing. Sort of like the concept of growing pains - growing up is not easy and there are no guidelines, no roadmaps. Often, we discover things through trial and error.

You may have withdrawn your energy as well, especially from old social circles. I get the feeling you were unsatisfied. Things felt stuck. They may still feel stuck, boring and completely lost in the routine of it all. It’s okay. You’re growing. Bones can hurt when they heal and grow. The same goes for you. I see snakes here, shedding their old skin. In your case, I don’t think you have found a “new skin” already, but you’ve shed your old life either way. It’s okay to want more, pile one. It’s okay to change. We’re ever-evolving. What suited you then won’t suit you now, that’s how life goes, with the changing of the seasons. It’s beautiful to witness - and when you look back you’ll realize just how much we can shift, how many places we’ll go and how much more there is to life than our old selves.

It’s okay to let it go. You’ll be okay even if the waters are muddy for now.

This is a very spiritual pile! Make sure to cater to your emotional and spiritual needs, taking care of your physical body and being around soothing, comforting or quiet places while you tend to this new self.

channeled messages & songs: white snakes, ring, scarf, life path 8 (or 8 in general), silver jewelry, bodies of water, sleeping, bed-rotting, kundalini awakening, modern loneliness by lauv, scorpio, pisces and cancer, hermitting, social batteries, introvert, epiphany, books, the bible, prophetic dreams, chocolate, ego death.

PILE TWO

six of cups ✧ the hanged man ✧ eight of cups ✧ seven of wands

You are returning to yourself, it feels like a sort of homecoming. Fighting for your peace while, at the same time, learning to accept what you can’t control. You have walked away from old beliefs, from restraints of the past and renewing your faith in yourself. Even the picture you’ve chosen is a close-up of someone’s outfit walking away. You’ve found dignity and you’re not willing to sacrifice it anymore. Maybe you’ve left a situationship or relationship that was draining you, molding you into someone you weren’t. Props to you for that. It’s not easy and I know it.

Your guides are proud - they’re very serious and regal. They think you deserve more than what you’ve had. Not in a self-serving way, don’t mistake it for self-indulgence, but in a human, dignified way. They see you as royalty, too. They don’t want you to settle for breadcrumbs in life anymore. No matter how difficult it’s been, they don’t want you to stop believing that things can get better.

For most of you, this is a time when you’re shifting into a more peaceful but assertive phase. You’re taking charge of your joy, your future and your responsibilities without clinging to self-blame or guilt. Maybe it took you a long time. I heard “recovery” in my mind and this has possibly something to do with a specific illness or disease you’ve battled for so long. There’s a huge feeling of relief, of taking a long breath after a tiring day.

It’s okay, you’re home now, you’re safe now. You can relax. You’ve got this, pile two.

channeled messages & songs: therapy, journaling, barbie or baby doll, sage green, green tea, pastels, tiktok, doomscrolling, healing, “i’m not the girl i used to be”, rainbow by kacey musgraves, self-acceptance, shadow work, “i’m still standing”, camping, nature, libra and taurus.

PILE THREE

three of swords ✧ the hermit ✧ the star ✧ queen of pentacles

Your heart is broken. Someone or something has left you to lick your wounds and tend to the bruises they gave you. You’re in pain, so much pain that it may be unbearable to wake up everyday. You’re questioning your worth, your self-esteem has crumbled.. and you don’t want anyone to find you, to see you in such a vulnerable state. All you do now is hope for better days, pray a rainbow comes after the storm because the current is heavy and has taken you astray.

Unfortunately life can’t always be what we want or expect. Allow room for these heavy emotions - this too shall pass. It’s okay to be disappointed, to feel betrayed and hurt by what happened. If the ground was pulled beneath your feet, was it ever really that solid to begin with?

This is the aftermath of something painful. And that’s okay. You can’t force yourself to feel good. In the meantime, you can take it slow, nurture the hope for better days and hold onto it. I know we tend to view hope as mostly something negative and passive, but you can take baby steps towards emotional fulfillment. The Queen of Pentacles suggests you take it slow - there is no rush to healing, nothing to be accomplished, there is nothing for you to prove. You’re human, and therefore, worthy of compassion, patience and healing. Remember the Wheel of Fortune: what comes up must go down, what goes down must go up eventually. You’ll feel better, pile three. I promise.

channeled messages & songs: taking a walk, flower pot, cacti, heartbreak anthems, olivia rodrigo, punk rock, “i’m angry all the time”, hurts like hell by fleurie, capricorn, saturn, personal year 5, backstabbing, depression, navy blue by muna.

PILE FOUR

the hanged man ✧ the hierophant ✧ six of pentacles ✧ the star

You’re learning and teaching. Giving and receiving. Letting the scales balance themselves out, remembering that balance is not always fifty fifty. All the piles have had somewhat similar themes, so I wouldn’t be surprised if you have felt drawn to either pile one or two, but this one feels like a continuation of it, so it could be that you’re transitioning from one to another. Naturally, please take only what resonates for you!

You may have found a new job, a stable relationship, a good circle of friends. You know, despite the positive feeling of these cards, I can’t help but wonder if you’re waiting for it all to crumble again, feeling like the shadows of your past are going to haunt you forever. I keep wondering if you’re okay, I keep wanting to ask you. You’re scared, you’ve got your guard up. You can’t really trust it will last - and while it’s true that it all comes and goes, you can trust nothing is ever wasted.

Let your guard down. Not everyone has your worst interests in their heart. Maybe self-isolation suited you before, didn’t it? You weren’t used to being loved, you still aren’t. But you still deserve it. Sometimes it’s easier to endure the hard things because they’re all we expect. It’s difficult to take in the good things, isn’t it? To feel worthy of them. To realize there is more to life than survival. You’re finally living now - and that’s a good thing. Uncertainty is scary, but in a way, so is the familiarity of hurt, of unrequited lovers and callous friendships. Are you ready to be loved, pile four? You can ask for the good times as much as you want, but when it is here, you have to remember to enjoy it, to not be on the lookout for the bad things so much.

We’re rarely in control. I know it’s difficult, but that’s often a good thing. Not being in control means you can worry less. You can fret less. You can take it day by day, knowing that the outside forces will do what they must and we’re all silly little souls on a giant floating rock.

PS: You’re doing well, I promise.

channeled messages & songs: self-sabotage, nightmares, attachment issues, bulletproof by la roux, bones, candles by daughter, earrings, 2024 planner, five year plan, entj, istj, quiet singing, “the pen is mightier than the sword”, studying, sweater weather, stress cleaning, autumn girl.

#pick a card #pick a card reading #tarot #tarotblr #tarot reading #tarot reader #tarot community #divination #witchblr #mine.

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its-time-to-write · 9 months

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hi, i love your writing! could i request something where jamie and reader are dating and jamie starts introducing them to the important people in his life, like roy, keeley, the richmond boys, etc. and each time they get introduced to someone new, whenever jamie steps away, they basically get some variation of the 'you better not hurt him' talk, and when jamie finds out he's worried that reader is gunna be offended or upset but they reassure him that it's fine, they think it's cute that everyone's so protective of him and that it's nice to see him have so many people care about him

Sorry this took FOREVER. Here it is!

the way it goes

It has been exactly twenty-one days since Jamie asked you out on a proper date, and you’re of the opinion that life can’t get much better than this. You’ve only met two of his teammates so far, (Isaac because he’s one of Jamie’s good friends and Richard because you ran into him while shopping) and honestly, they aren’t what you expected at all.

They’re kind and they seem to genuinely like working together.

(It’s a little funny to call football “work.”)

Isaac tells Jamie to bring you next time they all hang out, and reminds him to buy more juice packs than last time so they don’t run out again.

—

Turns out the next “hang out,” is a night at Isaac’s, and the whole team is there with various partners and spouses. There’s a strict sweatpants-only drsesscode, and pretty much everyone is in clearly expensive matching sets. You’re grateful that Jamie shrunk a brand-new deep green set the other week, because you didn’t have time to go out and buy something new/not ratty.

There are tables of board games, a pile of snacks, and even a bar. Jamie drags you over so he can get “proper buzzed,” and requests something incredibly complicated from Beard, who appears to be the only coach present.

“Babe,” Jamie says, “you good here? I’m gonna get some food.”

You nod and watch him weave through groups of people. You lean against the bar and wait for Jamie’s drink.

“So,” says Beard, “you’re Jamie’s girlfriend.

You nod. “Yeah, I am. I’ve known him for ages, though. Since I was in uni. Always thought he was just some prick footballer trying to score, if you know what I mean.”

Beard chuckles. “I get it. He’s a bit of an asshole sometimes.”

You grin. “He’s my asshole.”

Beard slides you Jamie’s drink but before he completely lets it go, he says, “Hey.”

His voice has lost its jocularity, so you look up to meet his (very intense, slightly terrifying) eyes.

“Jamie doesn’t need his heart broken. He may have been a giant prick, but he’s different now. He’s not the kind of guy you can just screw and move on from.”

Your mouth has gone a little dry, so you just nod. Right then. You turn to go find Jamie and hope he won’t mind if you take a sip of his drink. You’re planning on staying sober tonight, so that one sip is going to have to get you through till the end.

It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s told you to be careful with Jamie. The first time was actually Roy’s niece, Phoebe. Jamie was babysitting and he asked you to come along, so while he was paying for ice creams Phoebe tugged your arm so you’d get down to her level and said, “If you make him cry, they’ll never find you again.”

You had looked at her in shock while she matter-of-factly stated, “My Uncle Roy’s been teaching me things.”

She said the word things far too ominously for an eight year old, but then Jamie came back and she was all smiles again.

You got a similar, equally threatening talk from Phoebe’s mum, and then from Roy, and then Roy’s girlfriend Keeley.

Variations of the “break him and I’ll break you” talk had begun to trickle in whenever you’d pick up Jamie from Nelson Road. The tone ranged from Sam’s vaguely threatening, “We all love Jamie very much. We’re incredibly protective of him,” to Jan Maas’s blunt, “If you break his heart, you will never find another date on this entire continent.

Even Ted had a comment, which was more along the lines of, Jamie’s a big softie, he doesn’t need some to play him right now, he needs a real supporter. Each time, you assured them that you weren’t going to hurt him. You didn’t ask why they thought you would be the one doing the hurting when he was the one with the reputation.

Because you are fully aware of his reputation. You hadn’t seen Lust Conquers All, but you’d seen enough clips to piece together exactly how it went. And you’d seen the details of his cheating scandals all over the papers. And dealt with him firsthand while in uni. So yeah, Jamie’s past prick-ish behavior is not a mystery to you.

You find it endearing that so many people love him enough to protect him. It’s a good sign, you think.

You find Jamie carefully stacking various snacks on a tiny, tiny plate. His face lights up when you come into view.

“Oh good,” he says. “Extra hands.” He grabs his drink with one hand and gives you the plate with the other. He starts piling on something flaky and slightly green.

“Isaac’s girlfriend makes these fucking pistachio things, and they always go way too fast. Gotta eat them while you can,” he says while creating an engineering marvel.

“Glad you like ‘em, bruv,” comes Isaac’s voice from behind you. You jump a little, and the plate wobbles.

You turn to see Isaac with an absolutely gorgeous woman on his arm.

“I’m Stella,” she says. “It’s wonderful to meet you. We’ll have to have you two over for a real dinner.”

Jamie and Isaac quickly become engrossed in a serious discussion about football tactics, with Jamie downing his drink and then taking the plate of food from you. He was right, those pistachio things are amazing.

You chat with Stella for a little bit and learn she’s the face of a modeling agency and met Isaac during some football/branding thing.

“He was the only one during the entire shoot who made sure I was drinking enough water,” she laughs. “Who knew the way to my heart was through proper hydration?”

You talk a little longer before Jamie’s arm is snaking around your waist to whisk you off to see Dani. It goes like that for a little while until you finally settle down at one of the game tables. It’s a card game involving a lot of yelling and pointing fingers.

The house is noisy and cozy, filled to the brim with people who are just comfortable around each other, and you think you’ve never experienced something like this in your whole life.

Jamie on the other hand, is yawning a little bit. His hand, which had been on your knee tracing squiggly patterns, is starting to slow down so you put yours on top of his and whisper, “You about ready to go?”

Jamie nods and presses a kiss to the side of your head.

“Got fucking extra training tomorrow,” he quietly laments.

You get up to leave and Jamie follows suit with a very loud pronouncement that he’d rather be somewhere private, much to the amusement of the Greyhounds who begin to hoot and whistle. You roll your eyes and smack his butt on the way out.

Forty-five minutes later, Isaac’s phone dings with a photo of Jamie in a pink robe and green face mask, hair pulled back in an equally pink and fluffy headband. He’s lying on your bed and he can see the tv screen playing Notting Hill. You’ve typed, Someplace private, my ass, and Isaac just shakes his head and grins. Fucking Jamie. Prick on the outside, softie on the inside.

You better not break his heart, he writes.

HAH comes your reply a moment later. Not a chance.

“Babe, look,” you say handing Jamie your phone. “I’ve collected the whole set.”

Jamie reads your text thread then looks up at you in confusion. “What d’you mean?”

“Isaac is the only one who hasn’t like, threatened me or something if I hurt you,” you reply.

The tips of Jamie’s ears turn red. “What do you mean, the only one?” he asks. “Like, the team?”

You shake your head. “Oh no. I mean, yes, the whole team, but like pretty much everyone who works at Nelson Road.”

Jamie’s eyes widen as you begin to list people on your fingers. “Alright, so obviously the Greyhounds, plus all the coaches, Keeley, Rebecca, Higgins, Trent, Samantha at the front desk, Gary, Phoebe and her mum, Will-” you pause. “Should I keep going?”

Jamie groans. “Fucking hell. I’m sorry. They’re all twats, except Phoebe. I swear, they’re not always like that. I’ll talk to them and make ‘em leave you alone.”

“No! You can’t let them know that you know! And…” you hesitate, “I thought it was kind of sweet. Like a green flag, you know? They all like you enough to make sure that you’ll be ok, and they want me to know I have something special. Of course, I already knew that,” you continue, “but it’s nice confirmation.”

Oh. That’s new.

Jamie’s quiet for way too long so you look over at him. “Babe, are you crying?”

“No,” he says, choked up. “Face mask got in my fuckin’ eye.”

“It’s dried solid, babe.”

“Fine,” he says, “I might be a little. But you can’t tell anyone, especially not Ted, because then he’ll talk to me about feelings and shit, and I’d rather eat ten fucking scones than that.”

You laugh and snuggle into his side. There aren’t going to be any heartbreaks here, not if you can help it. You’re both planning on keeping the other around for the rest of your lives.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt

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stevie-petey · 4 months

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episode eight: the upside down

You know you shouldn’t, but you laugh. Honestly, after everything you’ve been through tonight with Steve, how can he possibly think the two of you aren’t friends? “Why are you laughing?” Steve mumbles, confused. “Sorry,” you wheeze out, still uncontrollably laughing. “It’s just–I mean, dude! We almost died together, of course we’re friends now!” “We are?” He looks like a little kid on Christmas day being given the gift he’s always wanted. Your heart warms. “Yes, idiot.”

summary: drinking game time ! take a shot every time jonathan tries ditching you or every time you almost die at the byers house, you find out that steve really is an athlete and tbh it's hot, but you know what's even hotter ? saving hawkins and reaching a tentative compromise with steve after he loans you $5 for snacks. after, jonathan makes a promise you really hope he can keep.

rating: general, cursing and slight scary violence

warnings: violence, use of fire and weapons, guns, use of fem!reader and use of y/n, slight mentions of blood and death

words: 13.7k

before you swing in: the final chapter ,,, my heart </3 please enjoy my child, i put so much into this chapter. action scenes scare me, they're hard and i'm weak, so i hope this lives up to everything you guys wanted n more ;) i cannot believe we're at the end (but i do have another chapter planned that's set in season 1, so shhhh). thank you so so so much for all your support. i never thought this silly lil fic would get that much attention, but i'm insanely flattered and grateful for each and every one of y'all. i'm so proud of what i've created and you guys are my beloveds ,,, anyways, enjoy !!!

You almost miss Jonathan and Nancy sneaking off.

You had been explaining a comic book that had been in your bag to El when you noticed a shift in your periphery. Turning your head, you see Jonathan stand, offer Nancy his hand to help her up, and then walk towards the main doors together.

What the fuck.

“They wouldn’t dare…” You excuse yourself and run out the gym and into the hallway to follow them, absolutely furious. You’re so sick of their bullshit, of Jonathan’s bullshit and putting Nancy first. This isn’t even a petty jealousy thing, this is about the years of friendship between the two of you that has just suddenly disappeared within a damn week all due to circumstances completely out of your control.

The slam of the main door is the only warning Jonathan gets before you’re yanking him by his coat and flinging him back, forcing him to look at you. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

You’ve never, ever yelled at him like this before. Not even earlier this week when he’d given you that bullshit apology after screaming at you for being in his room, for saying the two of you weren’t family. You didn’t yell at him for hiding Nancy’s pictures from you, for going off without you to find the monster. Despite everything, you’ve never been this cruel to him, even if he may have deserved it at times.

Jonathan’s wide eyes stare down at your hand that’s still clutched around his coat, frightened. “Bug, we were just–”

“Just what? Sneaking off without me?”

“It’s not like that, Y/N.” Nancy now steps in, her hands held up as if you’re some rabid dog she wants to calm down. “We just figured we’d help Joyce and Hopper.”

“‘We’? Are you fucking kidding me? You two talked about this, had an entire conversation, and still somehow came to the conclusion that ditching me was a great fucking idea?” You scoff, deeply hurt by the fact that the two of them had an entire conversation without thinking to include you in it.

“Bug, can we talk about this one on one?” Jonathan asks, his voice lowered. You can see the genuine upset in his eyes and for a moment your grip on him lessens, but then you see Nancy behind him and your anger only returns.

“No, we can discuss this right here.”

He sighs and tries to grab the hand not clutching his coat, but you slap it away. “Bug–”

“You’ve lost that privilege.”

“Bug–I mean, Y/N,” His voice falters. “Look, my mom and Hopper are out there right now trying to find Will while that monster is still out. Nance and I… We want to finish what we started.”

“Without me?” You don’t mean for it to happen, but your voice catches at the end.

Jonathan’s gaze softens and this time he succeeds in grabbing your hand. You let go of him and allow him to pull you in, weak against him as always. “I’m doing this to protect them, to protect you, Y/N. I’m always trying to protect you. You know that, right?”

You used to think that you did, but now? You’re not so sure, and it terrifies you.

Nancy has stepped away from the conversation, now kicking at rocks while you’re with Jonathan, and you can’t help but think about how wrong all of this feels.

Throughout this entire week it’s felt like someone has given you a photo of Jonathan, smeared its lines and edges, removed his moles and his crooked smile and made it neater, altered so that if you squint you can see the boy you grew up with underneath it all… But it’s fuzzy, almost too unclear to really see.

Now he’s standing in front of you, his smile once more crooked and cunning and his moles faded underneath the moonlight and for a second you can see him. There he is, clear and untouched and him in a way that’s never quite been yours.

“I know,” you tell him. “But how many more times do you expect me to forgive you for lying and ditching me? If you want to protect me, you need to talk to me.”

Jonathan winces. “I know, I know it sounds stupid and I know I’ve fucked up more than enough this week, I just get caught up in wanting to make sure you’re safe. It’d kill me if I let anything happen to you… I just, I can’t lose you, bug.”

“So pushing me away is your grand plan of keeping me?”

“I’ve always been an idiot.” He manages a smile, and you can’t help but laugh.

“That’s true, but if you attempt to ditch me one more time I swear to god I’ll pour tar all over your car.”

The boy laughs and for a brief moment everything feels okay again, but it doesn’t last very long. “In our defense, we figured you’d be better off with the kids since you’re not really a fighter, ya know?”

You drop his hand. “Excuse me?”

Jonathan’s smile is gone. “What?”

“I’m not really a fighter? You’re kidding, right?”

“Hey, no I didn’t mean it like that–” Jonathan fumbles over his words, clearly taken aback by your sudden mood change.

You step away from him. “How many times did I defend you against Lonnie? Better yet, remind me how we became friends in the first place. Wasn’t it because I threw milk at a bunch of idiots bullying you? Huh?”

“Y/N–”

“God, I can’t believe I almost let you get away with it again! I mean, do you even hear the bullshit that comes out of your mouth?” You deepen your voice, now doing a poor impersonation of him. “‘Hey, bug! You know I love you, right? Cool! Now, I’m gonna go do fuck all and ignore you and ditch you and then somehow turn it into me being a good guy because duh! I can never do any wrong!’”

“Please, just–”

“Did I get it right? It was a pretty good impersonation in my opinion. I mean, I am the one who has had to deal with this shit all fucking week. I think I'm an expert on this topic now.”

Jonathan looks pained but you don’t fucking care anymore. You’ve reached your limit, you’re sick and tired of being treated like some delicate creature that’s incapable of taking care of itself. You literally slapped Tommy Hagan this afternoon in order to help Jonathan, yet here he is basically calling you weak.

And yet Nancy is the fighter. She’s the one who gets to go along on the adventure while you’re sidelined because for some damn reason you’re always the second option. Never taking matters into your own hands, always the one left behind to clean up the mess and take care of those also discarded.

You’re sick of it.

You step closer to Jonathan again, so that you’re nose to nose, and whisper, “I’m tired of never being good enough.”

And with that, you reach into his coat and snatch up his keys, a game you’ve always played with him but now has turned into a bitter taste in your mouth, and run back into the gym. Someone has to inform the kids of the plan, make sure they’ll be okay on their own.

Dustin sees you approach and smiles, but when he notices the angry pace in your steps, he frowns. “Uh oh.”

“Yeah, uh oh.”

“Jonathan again?”

You nod, still too angry to trust your words. “Yeah.”

He notices the keys in your hand. “Where are you going?”

Mike and Lucas look over now, curious as to what’s happening.

You sigh. “I’m going with Nancy and Jonathan to the Byers house, we’re going to kill the monster.”

“Why the hell are you going?” Dustin exclaims while Mike shoutes “sick!” and Lucas mumbles “great, alone again”. El remains quiet, still resting.

You flick your brother’s hat. “I have to, Dustin.”

“For Jonathan?” He shakes his head. “I like him, but aren’t you mad at him right now?”

“Is it just me, or is she always mad at him these days?” Mike whispers over to Lucas, who simply shrugs.

“Girls, man.”

You ignore them and focus on Dustin. “It doesn’t matter. He needs my help, and no one in the party gets left behind. Remember?”

“Y/N–”

“I love you,” you kiss the top of his head. “I promise I’ll be safe, just be careful, okay? I’m putting you in charge, so don’t let me down. If everything goes according to plan, I’ll see you in a few hours tops!”

Dustin tries to argue some more, but you quickly run back outside before he can get another word in. You feel horrible leaving him behind, but you know this is the right decision. If you can kill the monster, there’s less of a chance of the kids or Joyce and Hopper getting hurt. Jonathan and Nancy may be fine on their own, but there’s always power in numbers and they’ll need all the help they can get.

You just… you have to help. You know this is what you’re supposed to be doing, even if it pains you to do so. Dustin and the kids are smart; as long as they stay at the school, they’ll be fine.

In theory, that is.

Nancy and Jonathan are waiting for you outside. You push past them and march towards Jonathan’s care; they awkwardly follow after you. You unlock it, throw yourself into the backseat, and promptly dig through your backpack to make sure you have everything.

The two teens get in a few minutes after you. Not one word is spoken as Jonathan starts the car and the three of you drive off, leaving Hawkins Middle behind.

–

You thought the car ride with Nancy and Jonathan from the funeral home had been tense, but this one? Downright painful.

Jonathan has a tight grip on the steering wheel and keeps trying to catch your eye through the rearview mirror but you avoid his gaze. You’ve spent the last five minutes arranging and rearranging your backpack to give you something to do while Nancy has tried three times to make conversation to make this car ride bearable.

“El seems nice.”

“You said four words to her, Nancy.” You retort, switching open your switchblade once more to watch the moonlight dance off of its blades.

“Right.”

Nancy shifts uncomfortably in the passenger seat. You know she realizes she’s once again upset the balance in your relationship with Jonathan. It was only an hour ago that she tried getting you to admit your feelings for him before convincing the boy to up and leave you. Sure, Jonathan made his own decision in the end, but damn. She could’ve at least pretended to want you around.

She notices your knives and tries to spark conversation again. “I love the color of the handle, it’s beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you switch the blades closed and sit up in your seat. “Anyways, you geniuses have a plan or were you just counting on ditching me and winging it from there?”

“Y/N–”

“No, Nancy. I insist, let’s talk about a plan. We’re here to kill a monster, right?”

She closes her mouth and frowns, turning to Jonathan for help, but he’s no use. He’s busy tapping his fingers against the wheel and praying that the world will just swallow him up whole. Too bad for him you’re a stubborn pain in the ass and would simply pluck him back up so you can torture him some more.

Nancy sighs. “Well, Jonathan and I were thinking we use the supplies we got earlier and lure the monster to his place, then we kill it.”

“Awesome plan, guys!” You say, your voice dripping with sickly sweetness that leaves them both feeling even more uncomfortable. “But may I suggest some actual details or shall we just bank off of this wonderfully dull and vague plan?”

“Sure, Y/N. Tell us what you had in mind.” Nancy rubs her face tiredly, knowing she deserves this.

“Great! I’m assuming we’re luring the monster with blood?” They nod at you, so you continue. “Okay, so before we lure it I think we should completely booby-trap Jonathan’s house. Nail the bear trap down onto the floor, make sure the floor is cleared of anything that could trip us up. Then, once we’ve got the house secured, we knick ourselves to draw some blood and pray to whatever god is up there that we can kill the thing.”

You pause for a moment, remembering how all the Christmas lights had been unscrewed by Joyce earlier. “The lights, we need to fix them. The monster communicates through the lights so if we have them, then we can track it.”

“That all sounds great, bug.” Jonathan finally speaks up, ass kissing.

“Thanks, pal. Still don’t have the bug privilege back, but I’m sure you simply forgot.”

He gulps, once more going back to being silent as he drives you and Nancy to his house.

Nancy again tries to diffuse the tension. “How do we even kill the monster though? I mean, will my bullets be enough?”

“I have this idea, but it’s… well, it’s out there.” You bite your lip, now feeling your cocky demeanor slipping. “If we can safely set fire to it, I think that’s our best bet.”

“Fire?” Jonathan exclaims, but Nancy shushes him.

“I think you’re right.”

“Y/N, I know you’re mad at me but do we really have to set fire to my house–”

Now it’s your turn to shush Jonathan. “This isn’t about that. I wouldn’t burn your house down, I already told you I’d just pour tar on your car whenever I get the chance. For now, I really do think the best thing to do is burn the monster alive. In every horror movie and book, fire always gets the job done.”

Despite herself, Nancy lets out a soft chuckle as Jonathan parks the car, now at his house. “She’s right, Jonathan. And who burns down houses these days? Tar really is the best form of revenge.”

“I’m flattered, Wheeler. At the rate you’re going, you’ll be off my shitlist in no time.” You tell her, patting her on the shoulder before getting out of the car. You quickly open up the trunk and gather the monster hunting supplies while Jonathan and Nancy take their time getting out.

You let yourself into the Byers home using your own key to the place. It’s been nestled in between the key to your house and the spare key to Jonathan’s car on your keychain for a few years now.

The first thing you get started on are the lights. There’s hundreds of them to get through, but you drop your supplies and begin screwing them in one by one. Nancy and Jonathan come in soon after and silently begin to help.

No conversation is made besides the necessary comments about the prep work. You’re all too focused on the possibility of what could happen next; the danger of the situation has finally set in. After the lights have all been fixed, you instruct Jonathan to begin nailing the bear trap down while you and Nancy discuss where to pour the gasoline. You both agree to make a path from the living room to Will’s room.

As Nancy pours the gasoline, you follow behind her and pick up any flammables. You weren't lying to Jonathan earlier, you really don’t want to burn his house down. While the house is wrecked, it’s still a home despite everything that’s happened in it. You practically grew up within its walls, you’d do anything to keep it as protected as possible.

When you’re done, you watch Nancy load her gun. A shiver runs down our spine; she looks at ease with it, which you figure should be reassuring, but the gravity of everything leaves you feeling on edge. You leave her alone and walk into the kitchen where Jonathan is, now hammering a ton of nails into his bat.

You begin to sharpen your blades next to him, still finding that you only feel secure by his side. The rhythmic sound of his hammering calms you, in a sense. It serves as a distraction. You know you insisted on coming, you don’t regret it and you know you’re stronger than everyone seems to give you credit for, but you’re also terrified. This isn’t just some adventure in the woods; this could kill the ones you love dearly.

Once you’re both done preparing your weapons, the two of you walk to Will’s room and rig up a simple snare. Jonathan grabs a yo-yo and you pull up a chair to set it on. The idea is that when the string gets pulled, it’ll alert you that the monster has sprung the bear trap. It’s not the most efficient warning system, but it’ll have to do.

The last thing to do is set the bear trap, which takes all three of you to achieve. Jonathan and Nancy hold down the edges with their body weight and you very carefully set the trap with your hand. You shake a bit as you do so, but you force your nerves down. You remind yourself that Jonathan thinks you’re too weak, too cowardly, you have to prove him wrong.

When the bear trap clicks into place, you let out a harsh exhale and sink against the wall, your heart still pounding. Jonathan and Nancy copy you and the three of you sit in silence. You’re still shaking a bit, and Jonathan is next to you just as tense, but for the first time since you’ve met him you can’t reach out to grab his hand to steady yourself. He’s too far, both literally and figuratively. Even with him next to you, you couldn’t be more far apart.

In the back of your mind, you hope the kids are alright. Hopefully they’re having a better night than you currently are.

“C’mon,” you say after a few minutes, getting up to walk over to the living room. “We’ve done all we can, now we just have to draw some blood and be the prettiest bait in Hawkins.”

–

Nancy and Jonathan decide to cut the palm of their hands, but you respectfully would rather die than have a matching scar with them. The idea makes you so uncomfortable you visibly cringe when Jonathan tells you the idea. “Yeah, no thanks. I think I’ll find somewhere else to cut.”

He looks hurt by what you’ve said but doesn’t voice it. Instead, the three of you stand in the living room in a triangle facing each other and he begins reciting the plan. “Remember…”

Nancy goes first. “Straight into Will’s room and–”

“Don’t step on the trap.” You finish.

Jonathan nods. “And then?”

“Wait for the yo-yo to move.” The girl says.

“Then…” Jonathan flicks the lighter on.

You whistle low. “Let there be light…”

“Right. Light.” The boy nods again. “Alright, we ready?”

“Ready.”

“Scar time.”

Jonathan and Nancy bring their hands up and place their knives flat against their palms. You roll up your sleeve and place your own knife against the upper part of your arm, just below your shoulder, and take a deep breath.

“On three,” Jonathan says. He begins counting and you all can’t seem to stop shaking. He senses your unease and looks up at you and Nancy. “You guys don’t have to do this.”

Nancy glares at him, her own voice shaky. “Jonathan, stop talking.”

You nod. “Yeah, what she said.”

Jonathan tries to argue, but Nancy squeezes her eyes shut and yells, “Three!”

You close your own eyes and slice at your arm, the pain immediate. You gasp out, never having been good with pain, but you know you have to do this for Will. The blood trails down your arm, dripping from your elbow onto the ground, and you watch as blood from Jonathan’s and Nancy’s own cuts falls onto the ground too.

Well, at least it’ll be an easy scar to hide compared to theirs.

“Fuck, that stings.” You say to break the silence, and Nancy nods her head in agreement.

“Not the most pleasant feeling.”

Jonathan guides the two of you over to the couch and grabs the first aid kit that you had prepared on the coffee table. He sits in the middle, leaving room for both you and Nancy on each side of him, but you’re still pissed at him and opt to sit on the floor in front of the couch.

Nancy begins to patch up his wound, and it takes everything within you not to reach over and help him yourself. It feels unnatural to watch someone else taking care of him, but the space between you still feels too vast to cross.

You patch up your own cut while the two of them talk quietly. You wind a bandage tight around your arm, ensuring you won’t bleed through, and Jonathan watches above you with guilt in his eyes. Nancy is trying to reassure him that everything will be okay, but as he watches you struggle to tie the bandage he wonders if he’s fucked up more than just your friendship.

“Bug, let me help with that.” He leans down and ties your bandage before you can stop him.

You glare at him, still having not said anything to Jonathan besides what was needed for preparation. Nancy distracts herself by cleaning up around his cut and your stomach twists into knots. This is all so miserable.

“Y/N, I know you’re upset with me and you can go whenever. I won’t blame you, you’ve done enough for me.” Jonathan says, trying to catch your eye.

You turn away and inspect your bandage, still reeling over the fact that he tied it for you. “I’m here for Will, and only Will.”

“Y/N…” There’s a hurt in his voice that almost makes you turn around to throw your arms around his neck and whisper a million apologies to him. To tell him everything, that you love him and that you’d do anything for him and that’s why you’re so terrified of how you feel. You know you’d burn yourself up if it meant he’d be taken care of, if it meant he was safe and happy and far away from anything that could harm him. You know you’d use up everything within you to love him.

Instead, you remain silent.

After getting no response from you, Jonathan clears his throat and begins to say something about how the lights will serve as an alarm for the monster, trying to pretend that everything is okay, but he’s cut off by a sudden pounding on the door.

You all jump and your fingers tighten around your switchblade, ready to open it. As your heart pounds you think of all the possible ways the plan could go wrong. When you’re on possibility number twelve, a voice calls through the door.

“Jonathan?”

“Is that… Steve?” You say out loud, in complete disbelief.

Steve continues to pound on the door. “Are you there, man? It’s… It’s Steve! Listen, I just wanna talk!”

You’re the first to react, standing up to run over to the door. You fling it open and step outside, making sure Steve won’t be able to see inside the house. When he sees you, he stumbles back a bit. “Henderson?”

His face is still bleeding from earlier and his hair is a mess, and yet there’s a softness to him that you haven’t seen before with him. “Steve, now isn’t really a good time.”

“Can I just talk to Jonathan real quick? I just… I want to apologize about what happened earlier, see if we can maybe–” His eyes land on your bandaged arm. You curse and roll down your sleeve, feeling like an idiot for forgetting to hide the wound before going outside.

Steve reaches out to touch it, a hint of worry on his face and his voice is now full of concern. “Hey, are you okay?”

You shiver at his touch, it’s gentle as he skims along the bandage and inspects it for any other problems. You pull away, now hiding the wound. “It’s nothing, but you should really go.”

“I want to help you, Y/N. Do you need me to get you anything?” His face is so full of worry for you that it makes you ache. Then a thought occurs to him. “Wait, where’s Byers? Why isn’t he here to help you?”

You’re about to make up a lie, but Nancy flings the door open. “Steve, listen to me.”

He looks between the two of you in complete shock. “Okay, what–”

“You need to leave.” Nancy orders.

Steve looks at you. “I’m not trying to start anything, okay?”

“I know, but–” You get cut off by Nancy.

“I don’t care about that. You need to leave.”

Steve begins to plead with the girl and you step away a bit, not wanting to intrude. You feel bad for him, he looks so beat down by what’s happened today and you suppose that you can’t really blame him. After spending maybe a total of ten hours with Nancy and Jonathan, you also have come close to losing your mind.

If you were with Jonathan, if you truly had him, you’d react the same as Steve. Begging for the girl he loves to listen to him, to give him another chance with the promise of him changing.

“I just want to make things right.” Steve says, impressing you with his vulnerability. He’s openly admitting to his mistakes and taking accountability mere hours after the situation has occurred, leaving you both in awe of him and also saddened for him. He loves Nancy more than anything, you can hear it in his voice.

He deserves better.

As you’re thinking this, you see his eyes flicker down towards Nancy’s bandaged hand and his brows furrow. “What happened to your hand? Is that blood?” His eyes now flicker over to you again. “Why are you both hurt?”

“We’re clumsy?” You say as Nancy yanks her hand away from Steve.

“It was an accident.” She agrees.

Steve looks between the two of you, now sensing that something else is wrong. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” Nancy insists, but something in Steve’s demeanor shifts.

“Wait a second, did he do this to you? To Y/N?” His once soft voice is now filled with anger and you step in front of him.

“Steve, it wasn’t Jonathan. You need to go, I promise I’ll explain everything later–”

He grabs you by your side and gently moves you so that he can get past and shove through the door. Nancy yells at him to stop and tries to push him out, but she’s useless against his strength. When he manages to break in, he stumbles inside and scans over the house.

“Shit!” You follow after him, your brain running a million miles a second trying to figure out how to explain everything to him.

“What the fuck?” Steve mumbles, eyeing the bat with nails in it. “Y/N, what’s going on here?”

He’s looking to you for reassurance and you guess he assumes that the two of you are allies in this Jonathan and Nancy situation. You really wish you could explain, but Jonathan has grabbed him by the shoulders and is trying to push him outside. The two stumble around for a few seconds and you just helplessly watch.

“Steve, there’s no time to explain, please just listen to Jonathan and get out of here!” You’re helping Jonathan now, trying to get Steve out the door and away from harm’s reach, but he’s still fighting back confused and lost as ever and you pity him.

You hear a click and turn around, gasping when you see Nancy holding her gun up to Steve. “Woah, what the fuck Nancy?”

“What! What is going on?” Steve yells, now more panicked than anything else.

While Jonathan has stepped away, you find yourself standing in front of Steve as if to somehow block the bullet. You can’t let him get hurt, he doesn’t have any part of this, he can still have a normal and happy life if he just leaves now. “Nancy, put the fucking gun down, this isn’t helping!”

Steve pleads with her as well and the two of you scream at the girl to just listen and not swing around loaded weapons, but Nancy remains firm in her stance. “You have five seconds to get out of here. I’m doing this for you.”

“Because holding a gun to his head is any better than telling him the truth?” You exclaim, entirely over the situation.

As the four of you are arguing, the lights begin to flicker. Steve and Nancy don’t seem to notice, but you do. You look at Jonathan and say your first real words to him in hours. “Jonathan…”

He hears you and he runs over to your side, grabbing your hand as the two of you stand shoulder to shoulder. You feel your heartbeat race and you can feel him shaking beside you. He’s terrified, so are you, but his hand around yours manages to steady you.

“Nancy!” Jonathan tries to get the girl’s attention, but she’s too busy counting down to hear him.

He shouts at her again and the lights start to flicker more wildly and you draw your switchblade out, adrenaline coursing through you. It’s time.

Jonathan yells once more and finally catches Nancy’s attention. “The lights!”

She whips her head around and curses, Jonathan, still tightly holding your hand, tugs you along so that you follow him as he secures his weapons and grabs the bat. “It’s here.”

“What’s here?” Steve is flailing around, utterly lost.

You all ignore him and now stand back to back in a triangle. Nancy holds up her gun, Jonathan wields his bat, and you flick your wrist to bring out your knives. “Where is it?”

“I don’t know!”

The lights flicker rapidly and you feel overwhelmed. They were supposed to serve as a guide towards the monster, but there's no possible way to see which direction it’ll come from and for a fleeting moment you think you’ve made a huge mistake.

Steve is still screaming, demanding answers, but you’re too busy scanning your surroundings to offer him some information. “Hello? Will someone please explain to me what the hell is going–”

The roof opens up, cutting Steve off, and you scream as the monster attempts to come down right above you. Jonathan shields you from the fallen debris and you cling onto him in utter fear. This isn’t real. This cannot be happening.

Nancy begins to shoot at the thing while Jonathan guides you to safety. He brings you to the edge of the living room and holds your face in his hands, forcing you to really look at him for the first time all night. “Listen to me, stay here while I get Nancy.”

He kisses your forehead and then leaves, rushing over to Nancy to pull her away and guide her towards Will’s room. Steve stands next to you, frozen, and it forces you back to reality. The plan, you have to stick to the plan.

You grab Steve’s hand and yank him so that he follows. The monster has dropped down now, a horrible creature on all fours that opens its gaping mouth to let out a horrible screech that you feel deep within your bones. This is what killed Barb.

The four of you run to Will’s room and you only just barely have enough time to warn Steve about the bear trap. You look over your shoulder and shout, “Jump!” right as your ankle catches on its chains.

You fall. Hard.

Pain sears through your ankle and you try to get up, but any pressure on it sends flames through your entire body and you let out another scream. The monster catches up, looming over you, and you brace for your death. There’s no fucking way you’re getting out of this.

You squeeze your eyes as the monster stalks close to you, its ugly mouth open and ready to kill you. Jonathan is screaming at you to get up, but Nancy is holding him back from helping. You’re relieved by this, knowing that someone has to be there for Will once this is all done. He’ll need his brother, and Nancy seems to understand this. You catch her eye and nod at her, sending a silent thank you.

“Bug! No, let go of me! I have to help her, Nancy!” Jonathan’s voice becomes hoarse by how loud he screams, his voice breaking with fear and desperation.

Then, right before the monster lunges at you, you feel a familiar pair of arms slide underneath your legs and pick you up. “What–”

Steve Harrington has swooped in to save you, picking you up as if you weigh nothing, ever the athlete, and swiftly jumps over the bear trap while screaming his head off. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”

You’re so delirious from the pain in your ankle and the adrenaline pumping through your veins that you can’t help but let a laugh escape you. No fucking way is any of this real. Steve Harrington is carrying you bridal style into Will’s bedroom with Jonathan and Nancy as witnesses.

What a life.

Once you’re both secured in the room, Steve sets you down gently right as Nancy yells at him to shut up. As soon as Steve lets go of you, Jonathan is at your side and pulls you into a crushing hug.

“Bug.” He breathes out against your ear, relief heavy.

“I’m okay.” You tell him, threading your fingers through his hair. He’s shaking harder than ever, and holding onto you as if he’s scared he’ll lose you again. “I’m okay, bee.”

He pulls away and his hands are all over you, checking everywhere for any other injuries. “Did it hurt you, are you bleeding? There should be a first aid kit–”

You grab his hands and kiss his knuckles, which seems to calm him down a bit. “I’m fine, just twisted my ankle. If you help me up, I’m sure I’ll be able to stand again.”

Jonathan quickly helps you to your feet and you lean against him for the extra support. While you put on a brave face for Jonathan, you’re terrified out of your fucking mind. You almost died. Jonathan is still holding your hand and he’s looking at you as if seeing you for the first time and you force yourself to look away. It’s the same look from the field days ago, when you thought he’d kiss you.

You have to focus on what’s at stake.

How the hell are you guys supposed to kill this thing?

The monster screeches, breaking the moment between you and Jonathan, and he flicks his lighter on and forces you to stand behind him. Nancy holds up her gun and you bring your knives closer to your face, Steve standing weaponless behind you.

You all wait, tense, for the monster. It stalks closer to the room, its awful growls alerting you of its proximity, but it doesn’t appear.

“What’s it doing?” Nancy asks, frustrated.

“I don’t know.” You respond, equally as frustrated and scared.

Another few agonizing seconds pass, and you stare at the yo-yo and hope that it remains still. Then, the lights stop flickering and it becomes quiet. All you can hear is your blood roaring in your ears.

Nancy looks around. “Do you hear anything?”

“No,” Jonathan shakes his head, inching closer to the door.

“Wait!” You tug at your still interlocked hands. You pick up his bat that had been thrown on the ground and hand it to him. “Be careful. Please.”

He gives your hand one last squeeze before letting go, accepting the bat.

As Jonathan pokes his head out to see if the monster is outside, Steve bends his head down and whispers in your ear, “Romantic.”

“Shut. Up.” You hit him in the chest, fearfully watching your best friend to make sure he doesn't die. When he motions an all clear, Nancy follows him outside, then you, then Steve.

The house is silent and your heart sinks when you see that the bear trap has been left untouched. You realize with a horrible gut wrench that the monster is smarter than the three of you had anticipated.

So much for your plan, then.

“It’s smarter than we thought.”

“Yeah,” Jonathan agrees with dismay.

He stalks against the wall towards the living room and you all follow in a single file line. You do your best to stick close to the wall but you limp with every step. Your ankle is definitely out of commission for now. Great.

All of you are on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It couldn’t have been that easy, there’s no possible way that the monster simply up and left. You enter the living room, which has gotten even more wrecked due the monster. The wallpaper has been torn off of some parts of the wall and you see papers scattered everywhere.

“Shit…” you mumble, kicking at a shredded wallpaper strip.

In the corner, Steve has started to hyperventilate and mumble to himself. “This is crazy, this is so crazy, this is fucking crazy.”

You limp over to him and grab his shoulders, making him face you. “Steve, hey. It’s okay, I’m here.”

“Y/N, what the hell just happened?”

“It’s… complicated. For now, can you trust me that everything will be okay?”

“Of course I trust you, it’s just…” He nods, his eyes softening. You lessen your hold on him and give him a smile, he seems to be calming down. Then, he looks around the room and seemingly remembers where he is. “This is crazy!”

Steve lunges for the phone on the wall and tries to call for help.

You stumble after him, the pain in your ankle slowing you down. “Steve, wait–”

Nancy gets to him first, grabbing the phone out of his hand and throwing it across the room. He looks at her, shocked. “What are you doing? Are you insane?”

“It’s going to come back!” Nancy yells at him, and you wince at the way she treats him. You know Steve will only listen to her, but she could at least be nicer about the whole situation. The three of you have had some time to process everything happening, Steve was thrown into the deep end.

“You could be a little nicer,” you mumble, and Nancy sends you a glare. You raise your hands up in surrender. “Sorry.”

“Steve, you need to leave. Right now.”

He looks so overwhelmed and you give him a pitying look. He stares at you, reminiscent of the way he looked at you earlier in the alley, silently begging you to say something, anything, but again you can only shake your head at him. You won’t force him to stay, it wouldn’t be fair.

“Y/N, please…” He tries one more time to get you on his side, but you can’t. Frustrated by your lack of response, Steve groans. “Fuck it!”

He runs out the door.

You’ll admit that you’re a bit disappointed, but you also understand. Who in their right mind would stay?

You and Nancy share a look before the lights begin to flicker again. Dread fills you. “Fuck…”

Jonathan is back by your side and he and Nancy again form a triangle with you, all your backs pressed together as you desperately try to locate the monster. You all stumble in a circle, searching for any sign of the thing, but there’s nothing.

“Where is it?” Nancy gasps out.

“Just fucking show yourself!” You shout, just wanting this all to be over with. Your body is drained from living in a state of fear for so long.

“Come on you son of a bitch!” Jonathan echoes your taunts.

Suddenly the lights turn off and you’re left alone in complete darkness. Faintly you can hear the monster’s familiar growl approaching from behind you. The hair on the back of your neck stands up, the air stands still. It’s back. Before you can react, it pounces on Jonathan.

“Jonathan!” You scream alongside Nancy. Desperation takes over you and before you can even process what’s happening, you ignore the pain in your ankle and jump onto its back, stabbing repeatedly at it.

Your blades only bounce off of its thick skin and the monster struggles to get you off. You hold on as tight as you can, shouting and kicking at it so that it can’t hurt him, but then it opens its mouth and for a horrifying moment you’re afraid that Jonathan will die.

“No!” You scream even louder than before and double down on your effort, stabbing and slashing as much as you possibly can to try and create some damage, but your arms are starting to ache and your ankle now feels like it’s on fire.

“Nancy, its skin is too thick!” You sob out, nearing complete exhaustion. Then, just as you’re about to collapse from exhaustion, gunshots fill the room.

Nancy begins to shoot at the monster and with the help of your blades, the two of you manage to pierce its skin, but even then the damage is minimal. It’s not enough, it won’t be enough. Tears stream down your face and the monster only gets closer to Jonathan, so you do the only thing you can think of: you crawl onto the top of its body and stab at its mouth.

The monster lets out a blood curdling scream and flings you off of its back. You go flying across the room and land against the wall with a groan. All the air has been knocked out of you and your ribs are definitely going to be bruised tomorrow. Every part of you aches, but you manage to lift your head up and blearily process the monster now approaching Nancy as she continues to shoot at it, but it remains unphased.

You crawl over to Jonathan, who is still laying on the ground. He’s motionless, and you fight everything within you not to break down and sob. You have to keep going, he has to be alive. As you reach Jonathan and frantically check for a pulse, the monster has now cornered Nancy and her gun seems to be out of bullets.

It’s over. You know it is.

Right as you’ve accepted your fate, a screaming Steve Harrington wielding Jonathan’s bat once again manages to save the day.

He hits the monster with the bat, effectively saving Nancy and you’re so impressed with his batting skills that you almost find him attractive with how easily he hits and dodges the monster. However, you file those thoughts away for later and finally manage to wake Jonathan up. He startles with a gasp and you check over his chest, scared he may have gotten pierced by the monster’s claws.

“I’m fine, we need to help.”

You help each other up and you have to lean heavily against him due to your ankle. You bull riding the monster has only made the sprain worse; you’re too afraid to look down and see the damage that’s been done.

As the two of you hobble over to Nancy, Jonathan looks at you. “Is Harrington really here right now?”

“Yes.”

“Lovely.”

Steve manages to lure the monster closer and closer to the bear trap and you watch him in awe. He’s quick footed and so sure of himself, the complete opposite of the boy from only ten minutes ago who had run out of the house screaming his head off. Now, Steve is swift with his hits and even twirls the bat in his hand to show off. The small act causes you to smile despite the horrible circumstances.

By the time you and Jonathan are up and recovered, Steve has successfully led the monster straight into the trap. It clamps around the monster’s foot and it screeches, flailing around in the trap. Steve still has his bat held up, now frantically looking over to everyone else. “He’s in the trap! He’s stuck!”

“Jonathan, now!” Nancy screams, motioning over at him to use his lighter.

Jonathan listens, using his free hand to flick the lighter on and then drops it onto the ground, right into the trail of gasoline. Immediately the monster goes up in flames, letting out horrible noises. You all shield your faces from the flames and Jonathan pulls you closer into him, still having yet to let go of you; you feel yourself sink into his side as you watch the monster wither away.

“Bug, I have to get the fire extinguisher, do you think you can stand on your own?” Jonathan asks you, his voice soft but urgent.

You quickly nod and brace yourself for his departure. “Yeah, go.”

He lets go of you as gently as possible before running to grab the extinguisher. When he has it, he orders everyone to get back and then smothers the flames. It takes a couple seconds, but eventually the fire gets put out, leaving behind an awful stench that makes everyone cough and gag.

“Holy fuck,” you wheeze out, hunched over. “Burnt monster smells horrible.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Steve coughs out.

Nancy covers her face with her jacket. “Where did it go?”

“It has to be dead.” Jonathan pants against the wall, looking like he’s three seconds away from passing out. “It has to be.”

“It fucking better be dead.” You mumble, hobbling closer to see what exactly was left behind. When you get closer and see the giant lump of melted skin all over the bear trap, you gag. “Oh god. Yeah, okay. It’s dead.”

Everyone sighs with relief.

Then, you notice a Christmas light above you flicker on. Your heart stops, terrified that the monster has somehow survived, but then a second one turns on, then a third, until a path seems to be guiding you towards the living room.

You all follow, cautious but curious, but these lights don’t feel threatening. There’s an energy to them, a comforting one that leaves you breathless. When you get to the living room, tears form in your eyes, now understanding what this all is. You look at Jonathan, who also seems to be thinking what you are.

It’s Joyce, you know it is.

“Mom,” he breathes out.

You limp over to him and grab his hand. He turns to you, his eyes shining with an appreciation that he only ever has for you. He seems to be drinking you in, as if now realizing just how close the two of you came to dying tonight. You’re doing the same, thankful that he’s alive and standing next to you despite everything. There’s so much the two of you want to say, but as always the words aren’t needed. You understand each other perfectly, the balance between you centered once more.

You put your head on Jonathan’s shoulder and he brings his hand to your hair to softly stroke it. The two of you stand like that for a second, breathing each other in and enjoying the tenderness after such a miserable day, before you slowly break apart and follow the lights going outside.

The porch light flickers and Nancy stands next to you, watching it with uncertainty. “Where’s it going?”

“I don’t think it’s the monster.” Jonathan tells her.

“It’s Will.” You don’t know how you know this, or what makes you feel so certain that you’re right, but somehow you know that you are. Somewhere deep within you, you feel the faint outline of hope flicker.

A new silence surrounds the four of you at your words, and for once there’s hope between you all. Then, after a minute or so of silence, everyone begins to head back inside. Steve first, then Nancy, and finally Jonathan, leaving you alone with the crisp early winter air.

You take a deep breath, the cold air serving as a reminder that you’re alive. You let it fill your lungs until you can’t breathe in anymore, then you release the air through an exhale and feel your body settle into its exhaustion. This is the first time you’ve had a moment to yourself, so you let the exhaustion weigh upon you like a warm blanket.

Will is safe, you can feel it. Despite everything, he’s safe and alive. Jonathan is too, still your best friend regardless of all the unspoken words between the two of you. Dustin is at the school with the kids, away from danger. Everything is okay, it’ll be okay.

You let the moment wash over you, incredibly grateful to be lucky enough to have survived it all. Everyone you love and hold close to you is safe. You didn’t fuck up this time. God, you did it.

Jonathan comes running out after a while, his face alight with joy and he crashes into you and picks you up to twirl you around. You laugh, loud and freely, and bury your face in his hair as he continues. “Bee, stop! Put me down, you dummy!”

He does as he’s told, but doesn’t let go of you once your feet are on the ground. “My mom just called, they saved Will. He–he’s in the hospital, he’s okay.”

You squeal and throw your arms around Jonathan again, squeezing him so hard that you’re afraid you'll hurt him, but he simply laughs and squeezes you just as tight. Tears come again, but this time they’re happy ones, and if it weren’t for your ankle you’d be jumping up and down right now.

Jonathan’s laughter dies down and he cups your chin around his fingers so that you look up at him. “You did it.”

“We did it, bug.” You softly push against him. You can’t take all the credit.

His eyes are shining again, you haven’t seen him this happy in so long, you get lost in it. His face is lit up and his smile is back and you’re so in love with him that it claws against your throat and threatens to spill out in excess.

A beat of silence passes and Jonathan just soaks your presence in. You can’t quite read his face, but for once this doesn’t frighten you. You enjoy it, you relish in the fact that he’s still yours yet now forming into someone new and lovely and wonderful.

“You never gave up.” He whispers at last, adoration in his voice.

“Never.”

“You never left me.”

“Never.” You breathe out, the word so simple with such heavy weight behind it.

The moment is so raw, so tender, and Jonathan is giving you that look again, the one that leaves you feeling like the sun itself has settled upon you and kissed your cheek. His eyes flick down to your lips and you smile, taunting him to lean in. He seems to understand, giving you his own teasing smile before leaning in. You lean in as well, every part of you buzzing, and right before your lips touch his, Steve bursts through the door.

“Jonathan, dude, do you have like, any food in the house?” He asks, completely oblivious to what he’s just interrupted.

You and Jonathan break apart, laughing the tension away. He ducks his head down, clears his throat, and turns to Steve. “Sorry, man. Been a little busy this week for grocery shopping.”

Steve’s eyes bulge out of his head. “Oh shit, right. Sorry, okay. Uh… Well, I’ll be inside, I guess.”

“We’ll be in shortly.” You tell Steve. You want to be frustrated by his timing, but something tells you that you’ll have all the time in the world to tell Jonathan how you feel. Now just isn’t the time.

–

The moment you arrive at the hospital, Jonathan sprints out of the car and straight towards the front desk to find out where Will is. You and Nancy follow behind, figuring you won’t be able to see Will for a while since you’re not blood related, so the two of you wish Jonathan goodbye and head towards the waiting room.

Steve lags behind, obviously unsure where to go. Nancy immediately walks inside, but you notice his hesitation and nudge his shoulder. “I’m sure that the cut on your eyebrow needs to be looked out. Let’s go sit, okay?”

He sighs deeply. “Yeah, sure. Totally. Let’s go sit in a room full of people who probably hate me. No biggie.”

“Either come or don’t.” You shrug. “But the way I see it, you can start mending some metaphorical wounds while you wait in there.”

You don’t wait for Steve to figure out what to do, you know that Dustin is somewhere inside the waiting room and you’re buzzing to see him and the rest of the kids. You hobble inside, still very much in pain due to your injuries, but the moment you see your brother it all fades away.

He runs into your arms and almost knocks you down with the force. Dustin clings onto you, mumbling over and over again how sorry he is.

“Hey, wait a second,” you pull him away and crouch down, groaning a bit at the pain. “What are you sorry about? What happened?”

You look around the room and see everyone there. Nancy, Hopper, the kids, Steve, even Nancy’s parents, but there’s someone missing…

“El,” you breathe out.

Dustin’s lip trembles and he begins to cry. You soothe him, grabbing his hand to bring him over to the seats and sit between him and Mike. Lucas is to the left of Dustin and you can’t help but notice how all the boys have dried tears in their eyes.

When they’re ready, you have the kids explain what happened, and the more they tell you, the more guilty you feel. You should’ve been there for them, you left them all alone with that monster. You got Will back, and yet you’ve lost El as a result. It seems that no matter what you do, it’ll never quite be enough in the end.

“It’s not your fault.” You tell Dustin, who still keeps apologizing. It was you who had left him in charge, you’re why El ended up vanquished by the monster. “You did everything you could. I shouldn’t have left you guys all alone, but I’m proud that you all took care of one another, okay?”

He sniffs and nods his head, but you know he doesn’t believe you. All the boys are somber; you know it’ll take time for them to recover. So, you do what you do best, you console them. You hold their hands and rub their backs and offer your spare comics in your bag. You do whatever you can to comfort them, to reassure them that they’re safe now and that no one will hurt them, but the light in their eyes has dimmed.

They’ll never be the same again.

And El… she had been so young, you don’t think you’ll ever not feel the heavy weight of guilt whenever you think of her. She had been so sweet and had trusted you.

You should’ve been there, you wish you could’ve saved her.

Steve watches from his seat across from you. He listens in as you comfort the boys, taking care of them in such a natural way. He admires this softer side of you, one he hasn’t quite seen before. Sure, you’ve always been gentle and sincere, but watching you with the kids is something special in itself. You manage to get them to laugh, you offer them your shoulder to cry or sleep on, and you read aloud to them stories from your comics and Steve finds himself drawn towards your interactions with the kids.

It’s sweet, something delicate and lovely, and Steve admires everything that you are. When he sees you awkwardly stand up and stumble over to the vending machines in the hall, Steve finds himself following after you.

“Bitch!” You slam the palm of your hand against the vending machine in vain. The bag of chips hangs by the little spiral, taunting you.

“That’s not a very nice word, Henderson.”

You turn and see Steve, leaning against the wall with a fond expression. “You stalking me?”

“Nah, just wanted to watch you fight against a vending machine.”

“Ha,” you snort, turning back to the machine. “Unless you can help me get this last chip bag, you’re free to go sit back down.”

You mean it to be a joke, not expecting Steve to actually listen, but he’s at your side within a second. “Step back, let Steve handle her.”

“What–”

Steve motions for you to move, so you reluctantly do as you’re told. Once you’re out of the way, Steve claps his hands, stretches out his neck, and then begins to aggressively shake the vending machine.

“That is so not what you’re supposed to do–”

Suddenly the bag drops down from the hook and into the retrieval slot. Steve reaches inside, grabs the bag, and then dangles it in the air. “Tada!”

You laugh and grab the bag from him. “Okay, I’ll admit, that was impressive.”

“What can I say? I’m charming like that.”

“Sure,” you smile at him, neither of you have moved yet. He’s still standing in front of you with that cocky smile on his face that’s slowly started to warm on you. You truly do understand why so many girls have fallen for him. If you ever saw Steve on the street, a stranger passing by, you’d fall a little bit in love with him yourself.

The thought startles you. “Well, uh…”

“Yes?” Steve raises his eyebrows at you, smiling.

“Thank you for the chips. The kids haven’t eaten anything in hours, so…” You wave the three bags in your arms. “Gotta keep 'em fed.”

“Wait a second, there’s only three bags there. Aren’t you going to eat anything?”

“I only had enough money for the boy’s chips.” You say, feeling suddenly sheepish. “It’s fine, though. I’ll just eat a few pieces from them and wait until we get home.”

Steve scoffs. “Yeah, no.”

You frown at him, confused as he rustles through his jean pocket and pulls out his wallet. “I don’t want your money–”

He doesn’t listen and simply puts the cash into the vending machine and punches in a few numbers. Slowly, one by one, multiple different bags of sweets and chips come falling down within the machine. Once the last one has dropped, Steve bends down and offers the huge stash to you.

“A feast, on me.” He winks at you and you can’t help but blush.

“T–thanks, I guess.” You now carefully balance the rest of the snacks in your arms, the mound almost blocking your view. You’re not sure how much Steve just paid, but with all these snacks you and the kids will surely be well fed.

Steve shrugs, and if you weren’t so tired you’d think the blush on his face was a real one. “It’s the least I can do, all things considered.”

His words give you pause. You know he’s referencing earlier today, back in the alley where fists slammed against skin and he had dragged you away from your best friend, but the memory feels like years ago. So much has happened since then, Steve has saved your life since then.

“Steve…” Your ankle is starting to sting again from standing for so long, so you adjust your footing and try to figure out what you want to say. “I never got to thank you back at Jonathan’s.”

“Thank me?” His face scrunches in confusion in a sickeningly cute way that it almost distracts you.

“Yes. You saved my life tonight, Steve. I won’t ever forget that.”

“Oh…There’s no need to thank me. I mean, what are friends for?” Steve freezes and clears his throat. “I mean, shit. We aren’t friends, you keep saying that. Sorry. You know what I mean.”

You know you shouldn’t, but you laugh. Honestly, after everything you’ve been through tonight with Steve, how can he possibly think the two of you aren’t friends?

“Why are you laughing?” Steve mumbles, confused.

“Sorry,” you wheeze out, still uncontrollably laughing. “It’s just–I mean, dude! We almost died together, of course we’re friends now!”

“We are?” He looks like a little kid on Christmas day being given the gift he’s always wanted.

Your heart warms. “Yes, idiot.”

Steve starts moving around in what you can only guess is a happy dance. “Sweet! Does this mean I get a cool nickname, too?”

“A nickname?” A bag of chips threatens to fall from your arms, but Steve catches it before it can land on the ground and takes a few more snacks off of your hands.

He readjusts the snacks he now has so that he can carry them easier. “Yeah, I mean. Byers has one, why can’t I?”

You don’t think you’ll ever stop feeling so thrown every time Steve mentions a small detail about you that he’s somehow come to notice. He has a habit of doing that, surprising you by how much he seems to pay attention to you. You thought that no one ever had before, but Steve continues to prove you wrong.

“I’ll tell ya what,” you begin to walk back towards the waiting room, careful to step carefully to not drop anything or upset your ankle. “Let’s see how this ‘friends’ thing works out, then I’ll decide what nickname fits you best. Deal?”

Steve thinks for a moment and follows. “Hmm. I don’t know, I think I’ll need some type of precaution to make sure you give me a nickname in the end. I want one, Y/N. I’m so serious right now.”

You laugh at his pleading tone. “I can add you to my baking list. Whatever I bake, you’ll get a piece of it. Is that better?”

“God, yes!” Steve punches the air and cheers.

You’re smiling so much that your face aches. You haven’t felt this light and carefree in so long, you’d almost forgotten what it’s like. The two of you don’t say anything else as you walk back to the waiting room, though Steve seems to slow down so that you don’t hurt your ankle keeping up, though you still let out a few winces and groans.

When you’ve arrived back at your seat, Steve sets down the snacks and runs off without another word. You’re confused by his sudden departure but don’t think much of it. Instead, you wake the boys up and show them your array of snacks, which wakes them up immediately.

You’re mediating a fight between Mike and Lucas over who gets the bag of Chips Ahoy when a nurse interrupts. “Excuse me, ma’am. This young man over here told me I should come over and check out your ankle?”

The woman smiles and you look past her and see Steve sheepishly waving from his seat across from you. You’re stunned. Had he really gone out of his way to ensure your ankle gets treated?

You shake the thoughts out of your head and inform the woman all she needs to know. You tell her how you’d fallen and what type of pain you feel when you stand up. She inspects the ankle, her fingers cold but kind, and within a few minutes has diagnosed you with a sprained ankle.

“All you can really do is stay off of it for a few weeks while it heals. I can go and get you some crutches, if you’d like?” She asks, rolling her gloves off and tucking them back into her pocket.

You nod. “If you wouldn’t mind, that’d be great.”

The nurse leaves with the promise of being back soon. In the meantime she instructs you to keep your ankle elevated, so you prop it against the coffee table and wait. You’re annoyed that you even have to have crutches, but then you think of Barb, of El. You’re luckier than you should be.

–

After an hour or so, Jonathan opens the door to the waiting room. He spots you and Mike talking softly with each other and whistles over to catch your attention. When Mike looks up, Jonathan nods at him and the boy scrambles out of his seat.

“Guys! Guys! He’s up, Will is up!” Mike shakes awake Lucas and Dustin, who had been cuddling on the seats fast asleep. “Will’s up!”

Once they’re awake, they quickly follow after Mike and the three boys are gone in an instant, sprinting down the hall towards Will’s room. Clearly they’re eager to see their friend.

You do your best to get up as fast as possible, but your new crutches serve more as a nuisance rather than an aid. As you struggle to get up, somehow knocking over the mountain of snacks, Steve rushes over.

He grabs the crutches and offers you his hand. “Here, careful.”

“Thanks,” you awkwardly accept his hand and get up. Jonathan watches from the doorway, a curious look on his face. Nancy does the same from her seat, not saying a word as she watches Steve gently help you navigate the waiting room with your injury.

Jonathan holds the door open for you and takes over once you’re out the door. He grabs the crutches from Steve and is now the one to hold your hand, balancing you. “I can take it from here, Harrington.”

“Right, yeah.” Steve scratches the back of his head and coughs. “I’ll just… yeah.”

He heads back inside and you and Jonathan watch as he leaves. As soon as he’s out of earshot, Jonathan turns to you. “Are you two friends now or something?”

“We almost died tonight, bee. I think it’s safe to call Steve a friend now.”

Jonathan bites his lip, though there’s a far off look in his eye that leaves you feeling like you’ve missed something in the conversation. “Guess that’s true. Anyways, let’s get you to Will.”

By the time you make it to the room, the boys have swarmed around Will and are telling him everything he’s missed this week. He’s listening eagerly as they’re telling him about El, but when he sees you enter the room, his eyes light up and he tries to sit up.

“Y/N!” Will calls out, pure excitement in his voice.

You practically fall over in your haste to get to him. The second you’re close enough, you collapse onto his bed and give him the tightest hug you possibly can without hurting him. He feels so small against you, smaller than he’s ever felt before, and his sunken eyes and pale skin make you want to cry.

But he’s alive and here and in your arms once again, happy and wonderful and safe.

“Little bee,” you try not to cry, but tears are thick in your voice. “I missed you.”

Will manages a weak smile and shrugs, trying to play off the gravity of the situation. “Took a little detour home.”

You laugh and ruffle his hair. “At least you came home, that’s all that matters.”

“Ahem,” Mike obnoxiously clears his throat, effectively ending your moment with Will. “You’re hogging Will, move over.”

You laugh again and move away, allowing the boys to resume their millions of updates. You maneuver your crutches and walk over to Jonathan, who is standing by the door. He’s looking at the boys and Will with a soft smile on his face and you join him, standing side by side as you watch your boys finally come together again.

Then, you feel a pair of eyes on you and you turn around. Nancy is leaning against the doorway behind you; she looks frail and distraught. There’s a sadness in her eyes as she watches the kids. You know that watching the boys reunite with their friend must remind her of Barb. She never got her happy reunion.

You feel awful for the girl, so when her bittersweet smile drops and she turns to leave the room, you nudge Jonathan to make him aware of the situation. He sees her fleeing and begins to follow after her, but he stops.

“What are you waiting for? Go.” You tell him, knowing it’s for the best.

He shifts his weight, uncertain. “Are you sure?”

You’re not sure how to decipher the hidden meanings underneath those three words, but you find that you’re exhausted trying to keep reading between the lines. The feelings you’ve kept buried bubble to the surface, but you remind yourself that he loves Nancy, despite your weird moments of almost with him. There’s something there between you and Jonathan, you both can feel it, but it feels too raw and fragile to bring into the light.

Without having to ask, you know that Jonathan will choose her.

It breaks your heart, but you look over at Dustin and Will, who are laughing about some joke while Joyce gazes at them fondly, and you know that you can’t lose this. Maybe Jonathan knows this, too. The small family you’ve built together, it’s too precious to ruin.

Joyce and your boys, you can’t lose them. They’re yours, and Jonathan is yours in a way that you can’t quite keep to yourself forever, but for now it’s enough. You approach Joyce, grab her hand and give her a tired smile, and the smile she returns to you reminds you that this is more than enough for you.

You turn to Jonathan, pushing down your feelings once more in favor of appreciating the fact that Will is looking at you again, alive. “Go, bee.”

Jonathan gives you one last look. You study his face for a moment, watching as it shifts from confusion, to hurt, then finally into acceptance. You’ll never be sure of what exactly he’d been thinking in that moment, but it seemed to have been enough for him, too.

He smiles, lets out a deep breath, and then leaves.

The door closes softly behind him.

–

A month later you find yourself in the passenger seat of Jonathan's car, tired from your shift at Bookstrordinary but excited to pick up your brothers. Somehow, even after missing three consecutive shifts last month, Mrs. Waters refused to fire you.

But Jonathan? He hadn’t been so lucky. His boss fired him from the Hawk, but he hadn’t been too upset. He still drives you to and from work, so you suppose things could be worse.

It’s late, but the two of you take your time driving to the Wheeler’s. Nothing much has changed between you two following Will’s reappearance. Sure, maybe you’re at his house more just to make sure Will is adapting well, but besides that everything seemed to go back to normal.

Well, almost normal.

Steve appeared at your job a few days after your conversation in the hospital. He had surprised you when you walked in, and when you asked what he was doing in a bookstore, Steve simply shrugged and said, “You can’t figure out my nickname if we don’t hang out, right? So, I’m here.”

He had become a regular at the store, stopping by whenever he could, and slowly the two of you became good friends. You’ve come to enjoy Steve’s presence, something that you never thought would ever happen. But he keeps you company as you work, he wanders around and explores the comics and books you recommend to him, and it’s nice having someone to goof off with.

Plus, you did promise to add him to your baking list, so he’s also become your taste tester who happily eats any creation you bring in for him.

As for Nancy…

That was more of a sore subject for Jonathan.

There was a few weeks following Will’s reappearance that you thought Jonathan and Nancy would get together, but it never happened. You’re not quite sure why, maybe it had something to do with Jonathan’s hesitation of approaching her, but it had crushed him when you and he saw Nancy and Steve making out in the hall as if nothing bad had ever happened.

The way Jonathan’s face crumbled when he saw the couple only solidified that he’d never be yours, but you comforted him anyways. You told him he deserved better and then dragged him away. It’d taken him a few days, but eventually Jonathan was able to fake a smile again.

You haven’t spoken about it since that day, but you leave your window open most nights for him to crawl in. The nightmares from that night fighting the monster plague you both, and the loneliness feels a little heavier than usual, but at least you have each other.

“Jonathan! Y/N! Come in, the boys are downstairs.” Mrs. Wheeler answers the door, letting the two of you in. “And Y/N, I love that sweater on you.”

You thank the woman. “It was a gift from my mom. She claims I need to up my wardrobe, whatever that means.”

“Well, I think she has lovely taste.”

“I’ll let you know you think so!” You open the basement door and motion for Jonathan to go down first.

When he reaches the bottom of the steps, Jonathan makes a face. “Woah, what’s that smell? Have you guys been playing games all day, or just farting?”

“My vote is farting.” You say, hopping down the last step. Your ankle has mostly healed by now, but sometimes if you land on it wrong it makes a weird clicking noise followed by some pain, but you choose to pretend that it’s normal.

The boys laugh and Lucas points at your brother. “Oh, that’s just Dustin. He farted.”

He begins making fart noises with his mouth and you and Dustin share a look. “Very mature, Lucas.”

The boy continues to sing and make fart noises and you can’t believe that this is your life. You’re standing in a smelly basement while picking up your stubborn brother all while simultaneously enjoying the fact that you get to call this your life.

Jonathan calls over to Will to grab his things, so you follow suit and gently berate Lucas. “Alright, that’s enough. I gotta get Dustin home.”

“What, I thought I got to stay–”

“Jonathan is our ride and I made cookies, so let’s go.”

The moment the word “cookies” leaves your mouth, Dustin hops up and collects his things without any further argument.

Once he’s ready, he and Lucas play wrestle as they say goodbye. While they’re distracted, you walk over to Mike and discreetly hand him a container full of double fudge brownies. You’d specifically made them for him, knowing they were his favorite, because you noticed how hard it’s been for him to adjust to El being gone. He really cared about her, anyone could see that.

Mike’s eyes widen and he throws his arms around you. “Thanks, Y/N.”

You pat his back. “Anytime, Wheeler.”

Dustin breaks away from Lucas and runs up the stairs, so you take that as your cue to leave.

Upstairs, Jonathan and Will are talking to Mrs. Wheeler. When they see you enter, the woman turns to you and asks if you’ll be bringing over your usual round of holiday treats. “Of course, I’ll get started on them tomorrow. You guys still like the sugarbread cookies?”

“If you make them, I think I’ll die of happiness.” Mrs. Wheeler informs you, and you laugh and tell her that you’ll have them ready as soon as possible.

You bid her goodbye, Dustin now by your side, and you follow Jonathan and Will to the front door. Right before you open the door, Nancy calls Jonathan’s name from the top of the stairs.

“Hey, Jonathan, wait up!”

You, Dustin, and Will stand awkwardly in the back while Nancy hands Jonathan a wrapped gift and wishes him a merry Christmas. They share an awkward exchange since Jonathan hadn’t gotten her anything, but Nancy assures him that it’s fine. The interaction is painful to watch as Nancy doesn’t spare you a single glance. Dustin and Will look at you uncertainly when she kisses Jonathan’s cheek, but you ignore them and pretend to be interested in a Christmas decoration on the table.

This will never get any easier.

“You ready?” Jonathan turns back to you guys, a blush on his face, and all you can do is silently nod.

In the car you sit in the back with Dustin, who squeezes your arm in reassurance. He’s come to understand your complex feelings for Jonathan and has pieced together Nancy’s involvement. While he’s never outright consoled you, he’s shown his support in other small and wonderful ways.

“Thanks,” you whisper, and Dustin smiles.

“We all buckled up?” Jonathan asks as he starts up the car.

“Yes, captain.” You mock salute.

Will giggles at you before he sees the gift and looks up at Jonathan. “Can I open it?”

“Yeah, sure.”

You and Dustin lean forward so you can see what’s in the box. When Will unwraps a beautiful, and no doubt expensive, camera, you gasp. The bitterness and hurt from moments ago vanishes. This gift is from Steve, you know it is, and something warm settles deep within your bones.

You think about last month, how you’d told him not everyone can just afford a camera.

Seems like Steve listened.

Maybe he isn’t so bad after all.

–

A week later you knock on the Byers’ door, a giant container of your annual holiday cookies in your arms.

“Bug!” Jonathan answers the door with an excited smile on his face. His new camera is in his hands and before you can even process what’s happening, he’s already taken a photo of you with your crooked earmuffs and oversized box of cookies.

He’s been using the camera ever since he got it. There’s now multiple pictures of you, always unaware or caught off guard, now hanging in the kitchen. It makes you blush to think about.

“You didn’t even give me a chance to smile.” You complain, shoving your way inside. It’s snowing and you’re freezing.

Joyce grabs the container to help you as soon as she sees you. “Here, honey. I’ve got it.”

You thank her and walk over to Will, who is drawing at the kitchen table. “Hey little bee. Whatcha drawing?”

“Hi, Y/N.” He slides over his picture and you’re shown a quick sketch of you and the party, this time fighting what appears to be a misshapen dog. “It’s a Dire Wolf, we’re fighting it in our latest campaign.”

“Ah, I see. Looks fluffy, though. Can’t possibly be a dangerous creature.”

Will rolls his eyes at you. “This is why you don’t play with us.”

“Careful, you’re sassing the girl who has just bravely ridden her bike through the snow to deliver her famous Christmas cookies.”

Will is out of his seat in an instant, running over to his mom, who has just placed the container on the counter. “Did you make the oatmeal raisin cookies?”

“Duh,” you snort.

“And the chocolate chip?”

“I sure did.” You stand next to him and point at a new cookie you’re trying out this year. “This batch is a caramel banana one. Steve seemed to like it and I think it’s pretty good, so I hope you do too.”

Jonathan swoops over and kisses your head. “Of course we’ll like it, bug.”

“He’s right, you know. We always love whatever you make us, honey.” Joyce informs you, her mouth now full of cookies.

“I’d hope so, this is like my fifth year making these for you guys. It’d be awkward if you hated my baking.” You say, now securing your earmuffs back on your head. “Anyways, I should get going. It’s Christmas, my mom won’t want me out too long.”

Joyce looks out the window and frowns. “Did you really bike here in this weather?”

“It wasn’t too bad, I’ll be fine–”

“No. Jonathan, grab your keys and drive Y/N home.” She stares you down, daring you to argue with her, but you don’t. You know better than to argue with Joyce Byers.

Once Jonathan has his keys, you say goodbye to everyone and wish them a merry Christmas. Jonathan throws your bike in his trunk and soon you’re off on the road. The drive is quiet but cozy. The snowflakes fall in a pretty spiral and there’s a soft song playing on the radio.

Sometimes, if you close your eyes, you can pretend that the events from last month never happened. Will never disappeared. You never discovered that you love Jonathan. Nancy Wheeler never became friends with Jonathan, possibly something more had there been more time. When you close your eyes and sit still, you can imagine that your brother never has nightmares that wake him up screaming. That your heart doesn’t hurt when you make your best friend laugh.

For a moment, you can forget.

“Can we always stay like this?” You ask Jonathan softly, almost as if you’ll disturb the peace that winter has brought with its quiet snow.

“Like what?”

You’re not sure how to express what you’re feeling. “This, us. Together.”

“Of course we’ll always stay like this.” He grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss it. He says this like it’s a fact, the most obvious thing in the world.

“Pinky promise me.” You hold your pinky up. You know it’s silly, but you need him to hear you, to understand what you’re saying.

Jonathan looks over at you. “Y/N–”

“Please, promise me, bee.”

He’s silent for a moment, seeming to understand the weight of everything between, around, and within the two of you. Then, he extends his pinky finger and wraps it around yours. “I promise, bug.”

And you believe him.

[END OF SEASON 1]

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