#it chapter 2 fluff

[makismei]

he hums, smiling down at you from between his legs, both of yours separated by his body.

nanami shakes the vibrator back and forth, watching your legs tense and your back arch dramatically.

“that was a strong one, love.” he comments, not letting up and pressing the wand harder on your clit. “can you give me another?”

you shake your head, trying to sit up on your forearms and scooting away. “c—can’t, ken—mmm—noooo!”

he pulls you toward him again, pressing the vibrator harder against you. “be good for me baby, don’t run.”

keen eyes watch your cunt drool pearly slick, your back arched up as you cried his name, shaking your head.

nanami gives your clit a break, briefly. “you have a safe word baby,” he reminds gently, “do you want to stop?”

your hips twitch, before you shake your head, “i’m okay—mmhmm, aahhh!”

he slips two fingers inside, hooking them expertly against your spot. so wet, licking his lips, cock jumping in his briefs, nanami is so enticed by your entire being. the scent of sex is heavy in the air, but both of you can’t find it in you to care when it feels this good.

“ken,” you whine, hand trying to pry his hand from your gushing cunt. “please, i want your cock noooow—wait! i’m cumming, fuck!”

he hums, pulling his fingers out to rub your clit, cum spraying everywhere. he lightly slaps your pussy, smiling at how your hips jump. “let me play with you a little more, okay love?”

[spideyjimin]

Bloodlines entwined: II | jjk

⤷ having a baby alone was supposed to be easy. but an accidental twist of fate pulled you into a hidden world of werewolves, and ancient bloodlines. navigating your already complicated life becomes even harder as you uncover your past; one tied to a legacy you never knew existed. and in the middle of this chaos stands jungkook, the werewolf king… and the father of your child. 

—  pairing: werewolf!jungkook x female reader 

—  genre: strangers to lovers, parents-to-be au, royalty au, werewolves au, soulmates au, angst, fluff, and smut 

— rating: 18+ 

—  words: 6,210

—  warnings: mentions of grief, death, abortion, murder, breakup, and heartbreak, nervousness, and strong language

—  author’s note: soooo this second chapter is basically the base for all the upcoming chapters. you’ll that it implements many important points, and i’m actually very excited to see your reactions 😬 it wasn’t an easy one to write as i couldn’t reveal everything straight away. hope you’ll like it & thanks a lot for your support on this series 🫶🏼

taglist is closed!

Chapter II: hearts in conflict

SERIES MASTERLIST | previous | next

Jungkook paces back and forth in his living room.

Since he was informed of the clinic’s mistake, he’s been torn apart between his duty and his heart. He’s been desiring to become a father for a while now, and he’s been more desperate since he became a king.

Having a child is also part of his responsibility since he needs to ensure his bloodline. Consequently, he needs to have a child with a pure werewolf. The clinic had a list of the eggs they could use. It was simple.

Now, a human was fertilized by his material, and there’s a hybrid child on the way. As a king and a werewolf, he can’t have this child. Hybrids can’t exist; it’s the rule. Nobody will ever take him seriously if their king doesn’t even respect the rules.

His eyes then fall on a family picture. That picture was taken five years ago, when his father was still alive. Even if he passed away two years ago, it’s still extremely hard for Jungkook to deal with his grief. He got used to it, but it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt.

Jungkook wonders what his father would have done if he was in this situation. Would he have pushed for the pregnancy’s termination? Would he have walked away? Or would he have stayed and raised the baby?  

Then, he remembers the one time when a werewolf fell in love with a human. The human got pregnant, and his father discovered it. He exceptionally showed mercy to the couple and spared them, but they had to terminate the pregnancy and part ways.

Jungkook’s father kept a close eye on them to ensure they wouldn’t get back together discreetly. Jungkook remembers how he felt back then; he thought that his father was way too nice. They should have been killed like it was done in the past.

His father then explained to him how things are never black and white. There are also grey areas. The werewolf in question was one of the best in the pack so killing him would mean putting the pack in danger. He had to make a decision, a difficult one. So, he decided to show some mercy. He knew that in return, the werewolf would be grateful.

His father was right. That werewolf never crossed the line again, but he also never got married or had any children. Deep down, Jungkook knows that he never stopped loving the human.

But if his father was in his shoes, he believes that he would have never accepted a hybrid to exist. Especially one that carries his blood.     

Jungkook rubs his hand on his face with frustration. Stepping away seems to be the right decision, but at the same time, it doesn’t feel like it. He’s not supposed to encourage you to keep the baby, and he’s also not supposed to desire to have this baby.

There has never been a hybrid.

Jungkook is also curious to see what a hybrid is like and how this kind of pregnancy goes. When a werewolf gets pregnant, all her abilities are enhanced. It’s like she gets even more powerful to give everything to her child. It’s really mind-blowing. He got to see it firsthand with his sister; she’s currently pregnant with her fourth child.  

But you’re a human and the baby won’t fully be a werewolf. So, everything will be different. He wonders if this baby will be born as a human and develop way later on their werewolf side. There are a lot of unknowns because people are always killed when this type of pregnancy is discovered.  

This entire situation is frustrating.

The man growls before shifting into a wolf and disappearing into the woods next to his house. Jungkook wants to escape his ‘human’ thoughts, he wants to forget that this is all happening.

Running in the woods has always been his escape. He adores the smell of nature, the air running through his face, the feeling of the soil under his paws, and the way his mind only focuses on that and nothing else.

Following his father’s passing, he disappeared into the woods for days. It helped him process this new reality; it gave him time to grieve his father in silence before endorsing the heavy role of being a king.

However, this time, even being a wolf doesn’t change anything. His mind pictures a little child running next to him; a child he’ll train to be a perfect wolf. This child is actually growing inside your stomach right now, but that kid can’t exist.

Jungkook is also aware that with time, wolves have this growing urge to have children. He has reached that peak, and it’s why he’s been going through this whole process of having a kid. There’s also the ‘natural’ aspect which means having sex, but he can contain that part for now.

On top of that, he’s also looking for his soulmate. The person with whom he’ll mate for life. In the werewolf community, when you choose your partner, you stay with them until your last breath. When you find them, apparently, you know it.

His parents and his sister have already described how they felt. When you meet your person, you instantly feel like you’re one person. You’re connected in all aspects. It seems weird, and until you don’t find that one person, you won’t ever understand it.   

Jungkook sometimes feels like he’s never going to find his person, and sometimes, it feels like a suffocating feeling. His community expects him to find his queen, to give a queen to the werewolves. But he wonders what will happen if he never finds her.

One thing is for sure, he’s single with a human child on the way. His life couldn’t be more chaotic than that.

Even though he won’t ever make part of his child's life, he’ll protect you no matter what decision you make in case anyone ever finds out about this.

Later in the day, his sister, Dohee appeared with her three children at his place. Since she’s in the last trimester of her pregnancy, she doesn’t do much, so she randomly shows up at her brother’s place as if he doesn’t have anything to do.

However, Jungkook adores to be around his nieces and nephew. He simply loves kids, and he would never mind being interrupted by children. He’ll never admit it, but he also loves to have his sister coming. They have a very strong bond.

“How’s the big wolfy king Jungkook doing?” she says while entering his office, and he rolls his eyes.

His sister never stops teasing him, but it’s the way she shows her love.

“Always making fun of me, wolfy princess,” he claps back.  

The kids run to hug him. Since they are small, they hug his legs.

“Uncle Kookie,” they scream with joy.

These three little humans are the only ones who have the right to call him ‘Kookie’. His other family members also have the right, but he’d prefer ‘Kook’. ‘Kookie’ sounds childish.

“Hey, monsters,” he greets his nieces and nephew while ruffling their hair.

His sister has two daughters, Hana and Yuri, and one boy, Hwan. She’s expecting a second boy, and she said it’d be the last kid she’ll have. Four pregnancies in seven years are more than enough, those are her words.

“Can we go to your garden?” Hana, the oldest asks him.

Jungkook nods and the kids disappear as rapidly as they stormed inside the room. They like to play around in what they call his garden. It actually is the woods, but if they want to call it ‘garden’, Jungkook will be the last person to correct them.

“So, mom told me about that surrogacy thing…” she takes a seat while caressing her pretty big bump. “Care to explain why I heard from her instead of you?”

Jungkook can see in his sister’s eyes how concerned and sad she is. He can only understand her; he’d be hurt if he discovered something this huge by their mother.

“Don’t know…” he whispers. “My mind has been all over the place lately.”

Dohee nods. “A lot has been going on,” she murmurs.

For sure, as a king, things aren’t easy. There are a lot of responsibilities, and whenever things get rough, he has to decide.  

“Yep,” he adds.

Jungkook sighs before falling on his desk’s chair. His fingers run through his hair while he closes his eyes. He’s already been thinking too much about your insemination.

As she sees her brother, Dohee now gets worried. The surrogacy journey should be a happy one; it’s one that’ll allow him to have a family. She knows how much he craves to become a father, and the council has also put a lot of pressure on him even if Jungkook will never admit it.

“What’s going on, Kook?” she asks with obvious concern.

Jungkook doesn’t know what to do. Does he reveal the truth to his sister? Or does he pretend that nothing is going on? For sure, he needs to vent to someone. His sister might be the one who could hear him without instantly bringing the “bloodline purity law”. She’ll see the problem for what it truly is.

“I sought the help of a well-known clinic that has helped a lot of werewolves,” he opens his eyes to face his sister’s gaze. “It was supposed to be simple; I chose the progenitor, gave them the sperm, and they only had to implant it in a human surrogate,” he explains.

Dohee carefully listens to her brother, very intrigued with what he has to say. She can see the despair in his eyes. It breaks her heart to see him like that.

“But they called me like five days ago to tell me they made a mistake…” he looks away, not able to reveal the truth while looking at her. “They swapped up the samples and they inseminated a human with my sperm.”

Her eyes widen at his words. That’s an unbelievable news! How can a fertility clinic make such a huge mistake?

“That’s a hell of a mistake!” she directly says.

“I know…” he whispers before looking again at his sister. “The thing is that the woman was there to have a baby on her own. I met her the other day to discuss this whole situation,” he tells her. “The clinic suggested to terminate the pregnancy if we desire it. I told that woman that I couldn’t have the baby and why I couldn’t.”

“You told her you’re a werewolf?” Dohee cuts him off.

“I couldn’t do otherwise! She was embarked in this world by a stupid mistake. She needed to know,” he almost screams at his sister.

“Tell me you convinced her to terminate the pregnancy,” she begs her brother with a firm tone.

When Dohee notices the non-reaction of her brother, she instantly understands the extent of the situation.

“Jungkook…” she says.

“I can’t tell her that, Dodo,” he says while closing his eyes. “I can’t force her to do that, it’s her body.”

Now, she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Her brother is in a hell of a situation. This is way too crazy!

“I told her I’d walk away if she keeps the baby,” he confesses. Both of them open their eyes to look at each other intensely. “But I don’t know if I can do that…” he admits.

She can understand her brother’s perspective; having a child is such a joyous thing. But there’s too much at stake, and she doesn’t want to have her brother killed because of this. It will only create chaos. Thankfully, they have two other brothers, and the Jeon family will remain as the ruling family. But their image will forever be destroyed. How could the other packs and even their own respect them anymore?

She’s scared of what this all could generate. Even if he walks away, a part of him will stay around. She knows her brother too well. Somebody will eventually discover about this hybrid kid, and the council will be informed right away. They will show no mercy to execute him, and their own pack will as well make sure a traitor is killed. The poor woman will face the same punishment, and she didn’t ask for any of this.

“She’s hesitating and she doesn’t know what to do yet,” he adds as he notices her sister doesn’t say anything.

“If you step out, you really need to,” she explains. “You can’t check her up nor this child to make sure nobody ever finds out about them.”

There’s a possibility that nobody ever finds out, but Jungkook has to completely walk away to truly protect them.

“This child can’t ever know who his biological father is otherwise they could claim the heir title due to being your firstborn.”

That’s an aspect Jungkook never considered. This child could indeed pretend to the throne if they wanted, even though it would never be accepted by the other packs.

“This is what I can advise you, big bro,” she adds.

“Thanks, Dodo,” he answers. “I really needed to speak about this with someone.”

She offers him a little smile before they change the conversation’s topic.  

A week has passed since Jungkook told you about his secret. Since then, you’ve been doing everything to not think about it. You’ve not even thought about what you’ll do with the child growing inside of you.

You don’t want to face the truth. There’s a werewolf universe; one that your child will be a part of. What will you do if you keep them? Will you be able to face their werewolf side? Will you ever reach out to Jungkook for help?

There are so many questions, but you don’t want to think about them. All you desire is to forget about all of this.

Today, you’re meeting Felix at a cozy café. It’s your usual Thursday meeting. It’s been like that since you moved out, and you’ve been grateful to have these moments with your father. However, for today’s meeting, you’re feeling kind of nervous. You know he’s going to raise questions about your pregnancy while you don’t even know what to do.

“Sweetheart,” Felix welcomes you with a hug.

You hold onto him like you’re holding on for dear life. Now that you have him in front of you, it reassures you beyond comprehension. It feels like you can let go of whatever is going on in your head.

“Are you okay, angel?” he asks.

He breaks the hug, takes one step back, and looks at you with evident concern.

“Not really,” you admit.

The two of you sit down; worry never leaving his eyes. Felix has noticed that you’ve been distant these past few days. He didn’t say anything because he thought that you needed time and space to deal with the pregnancy’s early days. He still remembers how his late wife was when she was pregnant with Lexi.   

Now, he realizes that there’s something more. He can tell it by the way you respond and how tired you look.

“What’s been going on?” he says the second you’re both sitting.

You bite your lower lip, deeply thinking about what you should say. There’s absolutely no way that you’ll reveal the werewolf universe, he’ll never believe you.

“The fertility clinic made a mistake,” you finally say.

He furrows his eyebrows.

“They swapped the donor sample with somebody else’s sample,” you continue. “That man turned to the clinic to have a child through surrogacy.”

So far, Felix doesn’t really understand where the problem is.   

“The thing is that the clinic contacted us both to inform us of the mistake, so I’ve met him, and it destroyed the entire plan,” you rub your face with your hands. “I felt like I lost control of my life all over again.”

Now, he understands everything. Since you’ve lost your parents, he’s seen how you’ve been trying to gain control over your life. But you’ve been struggling your entire life. This thing of being a mother alone felt like you were gaining control.

“They will refund the treatment and suggested we could terminate the pregnancy.”

Felix believes that it’s the least the clinic could do to compensate for their mistake.

“The father said he doesn’t want the child but doesn’t want to force me to abort, so it’s really up to me…” you feel like you’re about to cry.

The sixty years old man lets you speak without interrupting you.

“It’s such a difficult decision,” you admit. “I thought having a baby on my own would be simple… but nothing about this seems simple anymore. I’ve stepped into something I can’t control.”  

He nods, understanding your dilemma. All he can do right now is to reassure you, because he can’t choose for you. That decision is yours, and only yours. At least, that’s the thing you can control in this entire situation.

“You’ve always been strong, yn,” he says. “You’ve faced so much loss, but you’ve found a way forward. There’s no need to figure everything out today.”

You’d like to think that it’d be as easy as Felix makes it sound. There’s a legal limit for abortion; you can’t spend weeks wondering what to do.

“But time is running, and I can’t hesitate forever.”

Your father figure smiles at you while grabbing your hands.

“I know, but I trust you. I don’t doubt you’ll find the answer on time.”

You smile back at him. Even though his words are comforting, they don’t really help. You don’t know what to do with the life growing inside you. A life that you can hear and feel. A life half human and half werewolf.

“Sometimes I feel different,” you start saying with hesitation.

You can’t reveal the true nature of Jungkook, but you’d still like to speak a bit about it with Felix. Maybe he’ll be able to reassure you about it.

“Like there’s something beneath the surface that I can’t put into words,” you continue. “And it scares me.”

This entire situation scares the hell out of you. There are so many what-ifs…

“Whatever this is, yn, trust yourself. You’ve never been alone. Lexi and I have always been by your side through this entire process, and we’ll remain until the end,” he reminds you. “I’m sure you’ll find your way through this.”

You’ve always admired the way Felix trusts you and encourages you also to trust yourself. It has never been easy for the past twenty years, but he’s been the light guiding you through every tough moment. You’re lucky to have him, and you’ll forever be grateful that he took you over after the passing of your parents.

“You’ve inherited your parents’ strength; they left everything behind to offer you a proper life, and even though they didn’t get to see you become the woman you are today, you’ve grown far away from that family that never wanted you.”

Being reminded that your grandparents disapproved of your parents’ relationship and your existence breaks your heart. You would have loved that things were different. You would have loved to meet them. You don’t know anything about your family. You don’t even know where your parents originally are from.

You know Felix and your parents have been trying to protect you, but you’ve always wanted to discover the truth, to understand why your grandparents didn’t want your parents to be together. You ignore so many things, but you haven’t been able to discover anything about your parents’ past. Whatever happened, it’s like it was erased.

And you also are a hundred percent sure that your parents’ murder is related to this family story. You don’t know how, but you feel it in your guts. When you think about it, it sends shivers down your spine because there’s a tiny possibility that your grandparents killed your parents.

“Did you ever meet my grandparents?” you dare to ask.

Your entire life you’ve hesitated to question Felix about the family issues. It wasn’t his place to know about it and reveal it to you.

“No,” he answers. “I met your parents after they left their hometown.”

You nod although you aren’t fully convinced about that. You don’t say anything else. Your parents are a touchy subject with Felix; he lost his friends after all. It mustn’t have been easy for him too, especially since he took you over.

“Thanks, Felix for your support,” you smile at him.   

Felix squeezes your hands with a bright smile on his face. There’s no doubt that this moment has reassured and comforted you a lot. Now all you have to do is face the situation and really think about what you’ll do.

On your way back to your apartment, you could swear you felt Jungkook’s presence nearby. It’s not logical, not even remotely possible. However, every fiber of your being screams ‘he’s here’.  You walked slower as your eyes scanned every corner and alley, looking for someone that isn’t there.

You paused at a streetlight, slowly turning around. He’s here. You’re certain of it. But where? How? You pull your jacket tighter around you, shake your head, and start walking. Even though you’re getting closer to your apartment building, the feeling doesn’t fade. It clings to you like a second skin. You’re not scared, not really. If anything, you feel protected as if someone is watching over you.

As you step into the lobby of the complex building, the feeling slowly starts to fade away. But even as you stand in the elevator, you can’t shake the sensation. You felt him; you know you did. And it terrifies you just as much as it comforts you.

Once inside your apartment, you directly walk to your couch after removing your coat and shoes. You sink onto it as you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding back. Nothing really feels normal anymore. Everything is just different now.

You wrap your arms around yourself to kind of protect yourself. You must admit that you’re a bit scared of what the future might hold for you. There’s a baby growing inside you; one you deeply desire, but that baby is linked to a world you never knew existed two weeks ago. And it’s a baby whose father doesn’t want them.  

Your right hand snails down to your stomach as you think about this child. You’ve spent so much time dreaming about this. About holding a tiny life in your arms. About creating a family that felt yours. But this? This isn’t what you planned.

However, you can hear Felix’s words inside your head. He’ll be there for you; he’ll support you in whatever decision you make. You know that you won’t be alone in this process. You’ll have him and Lexi, and your friends too.

And there’s Jungkook…  

You shake the thought away. He was very clear; he doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want you. You feel a bit sad for him. He wanted a child otherwise, he wouldn’t have sought the clinic’s help. And now, he has a child with a human which is completely forbidden in his world. It mustn’t be easy for him too.

As you caress your stomach, trying to comfort you and the baby, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you want to keep the baby. It’s not a definitive decision, not yet. You still doubt it, and there’s still some fear within you related to this whole werewolf thing.

But for the first time since the clinic’s mistake, you feel like you’re slowly leaning into a choice. It doesn’t feel like you’re still completely torn apart by the two choices. It’s still an uncertain choice. But it’s yours.

Tonight, it’s been hard for you to properly sleep. You’ve been turning in your bed, trying to find the right position to sleep. But none of them seems to be the right one. The city light picking through the curtains seems also not to help you. It feels like the world doesn’t want to let you sleep.

On top of that, when you close your eyes, your mind instantly goes to Jungkook. You relive again the moment he revealed his true nature; you see again his intense gaze on you and how his eyes turned red.

“Why can’t I stop thinking about him?” your voice is barely audible in the silence of the room.  

Your hands move down to your stomach for the millionth time today. Whenever you think about Jungkook, you’re reminded of the life growing inside you. A life that wouldn’t exist without him.

You end up giving up and sit up, your back leaning against the headboard. You look around, your room is a complete mess, just like your mind. A couple of weeks ago, while looking at your bedroom, you were thinking about how it would change once you become a mother.

Now, you’re facing a reality where werewolves exist. A reality where Jungkook rejected the baby. A reality where you still don’t know what to do. And it feels like it’s crushing you. It feels like all this constant thinking is suffocating you, like the city noise.

But then, subtly something changes.

A warmth starts spreading through your chest. It’s like when the sunlight breaks through the heavy grey clouds. It’s like receiving a hug from a loved person. It’s reassuring and comforting. You close your eyes, your eyebrows furrowing as you feel the same presence as earlier today. However, this time, it’s not physical, but it feels real.

It’s Jungkook.

You can’t explain it, but you know. You’d like to say that you’re going crazy, but it doesn’t feel like it. You feel his presence, and you don’t know how.

“Jungkook,” you whisper while opening your eyes.

From afar, Jungkook is sitting in his study, looking at the forest through a large window. His expression is tight, and his jaw is clenched. He’s been more than ever nervous and stressed.

Suddenly, a very faint whisper of his name brushes against his mind. His eyes widen slightly as he feels something, or should he say, someone. He then closes his eyes to feel this sudden connection.

For a brief moment, he swears he can feel you. He can feel your confusion, your exhaustion, but also your strength. He takes deep breaths, trying to push away whatever this is. He isn’t supposed to feel any of this with a human. He isn’t supposed to be connected to a human.

But it seems like nothing makes sense anymore.

There are many things that aren’t supposed to exist or to make sense, but everything shifted the second you came into his life.

As the sensation fades away, he runs a hand through his hair while you wonder what the heck just happened.

Jungkook’s eyes look at the moon peeking through the clouds. It’s a beautiful moon even though it’s not the full moon yet.

“Mister Jeon,” his footman enters the study room. “Yuna is waiting at the door, she’d like to speak with you. Do I let her in?”

The king hesitates for a couple of seconds, but then proceeds to let her in. He wonders what she’s doing here, and he’s very curious to know about it.  

Yuna, his ex-girlfriend arrives quite rapidly and with a lot of grace. She’s still as pretty as he remembers, it’s like she didn’t change in over a year. His heart starts pounding rapidly in his chest, making him wonder if he still loves her. Undoubtedly, he isn’t unaffected by her.  

Jungkook stands up and she bows to him once in front of him. “Your Majesty,” she says.

It’s weird to see her doing that; it’s the first time she ever does it. When he became a king, she was his girlfriend, and he refused to let her bow to him even though they weren’t equals. To him, it didn’t make any sense for all that. However, today, she represents nothing to him. She’s just a simple werewolf.   

“Yuna,” he firstly says. “What brings you here?”

“You’ve been avoiding me, Jungkook,” Yuna is draped in an elegant coat, and Jungkook can see a red dress beneath the coat.

Jungkook sits back down on the chair, rubbing his temple. Of course, he’s been avoiding her because she’s his ex. It wouldn’t make sense to run after her, especially when she’s the one who walked away in the first place.

“I’ve seen it at The Bloods’ gala, the council monthly meeting, and last full moon,” she adds.

The further he is from her, the better he feels. But it’s nearly impossible. She’s the descendant of one of the most ancient families of The Bloods’ pack. Her family is powerful, but definitely not as powerful as Jeon’s family. Both families share a history, but that’s it.

“What did you expect?” he asks.

A year ago, she walked away, and Jungkook didn’t fight for her. When he became a king, he had to navigate this entirely new role while coping with grief. Yuna was kind of obsessed with the possibility of her becoming the next queen and mother to the future heir. She wasn’t there when he needed her.

Instead of navigating this together, they isolated themselves. She was constantly complaining about the fact that he wasn’t paying any attention to her. She desired the power he could grant her, but she felt like she didn’t matter. She felt unloved and unfulfilled in the relationship.

So, she walked away, and he let her go.

Jungkook thought that it was for the best. It simply was too hard for him to deal with everything, and his role absorbed all the pain he felt when she left. It was a five-year-long relationship, he still loved her even though his love changed over time.

“Well, at least, a simple ‘hello’,” she answers before crossing her arms against her chest.

Yuna never imagined things would turn out like this when she left. She deeply regrets what she did, and she has been contemplating for a while to win her king back.

“Unless I have to, I’d never come to you to say ‘hello’,” he instantly snaps back.

Without asking for permission, she takes a seat on the couch near her. She seems infuriated but doesn’t let it break her shell.

“There are rumors…” she murmurs. “Saying that you’ve been busy, trying to secure the lineage.”

Over the past months, a lot of rumors have been circulating about him. Some are saying that he’s with someone, others that he’s engaged, and others stating the truth—that he’s been trying to have a child. As usual, he hasn’t said a damn thing.  

“Well, those are only rumors,” he answers, trying to hide away any expression that might betray him.

For a split second, his mind pictures you smiling. A smile he caused when he handed you the small box of pastries. Technically speaking, you’ve secured his lineage.

“I believe them,” she says. “I knew how much you wanted a child, and you’re a terrible liar,” she adds. “Now, I’m left wondering if you’re doing this through surrogacy or if you really got someone pregnant.”

“Yuna is definitely smart,” Jungkook mumbles to himself. It has always impressed him how intelligent she can be when something gets her attention. This seems to be a hot topic for her.

“And if someone is pregnant, it might mean that you’re seeing someone.”

A smile appears on his face, his eyes looking right through hers. She’s way too curious about this, and he definitely wants to leave her wondering even more. But this woman could find you if he leaves her in the dark, and that is something he can’t let happen. He has to protect you from his world.

“Maybe, it’s neither option,” he answers.

She narrows her eyes as if she’s trying to see which option is the correct one.

“If it’s none of them, then I can help you with that.”

Jungkook instantly laughs; this woman is beyond crazy. She can’t come back just like that. Their relationship died a year ago so there’s no turning back. Plus, making her the mother of his child would give her the power she tried to have when he became a king. Jungkook isn’t that stupid.

“You can keep it to yourself,” he says. “I don’t need it.”

If they were still together, they would most probably be expecting a baby. Or they would have already been parents.

“And if you only came to throw me that bullshit, you can leave,” he adds. “I’ve more important things to deal with.”

Those last words profoundly hurt her, but again, she doesn’t show it. She stands up and walks closer to him before bending down, her lips near his ear. Surprisingly, this closeness doesn’t make him shiver like it used to.

“It’s just the beginning, baby,” she whispers. “You won’t get rid of me so easily.”

She presses a kiss on his cheek before vanishing. Jungkook closes his eyes, a deep breath escaping his lips. This is the last thing he needs right now. He already has so much on his plate, and he doesn’t want to have to deal with his ex.

“What did I do to deserve all of this?” he whispers.

With his eyes closed, his mind gets lost in visions of your face. They appease him in an unexplainable way. Nobody has ever had such an effect on him—even less a human. He doesn’t really know what to do. Maybe for now, it’s best to simply ignore all of this.

However, he wants to make sure that you’re safe. He’s scared that Yuna might discover you and put your life in jeopardy. If she ever finds out about you, she’ll do everything in her power to give you the same treatment previous humans had in the same situation. Death.

Jungkook totally ignores your address, but he’s a king and a werewolf. He could find you by your smell or if he asks someone to look for you. Well, being honest, he has already done some research about you. He wanted to discover who you are. Wanted to know who the mother of his unborn child was.

He shifts into a wolf before running through the forest. He could have run through the city, but people would see him which is risky. Although some werewolves do that, he’s the king. He can’t make any reckless move. His world needs to be protected; he made an oath when he succeeded his father.  

Once he’s near your place, he shifts back to his human form and walks up until he’s near enough to see you through the window. Based on his research, this is the place of a certain Felix, a man who took you over after the passing of your parents. He’s the man that truly raised you.

His gaze finds you quite rapidly. It seems that you’re in a living room animatedly speaking with two men and a woman. One of the men seems to be in his fifties-sixties so he’d guess it’s Felix. The girl he’d say that it’s Lexi, Felix’s daughter; she looks a lot like him. The second man seems to be a complete stranger. Maybe a friend or something like that.

Jungkook checks the surroundings to make sure nobody— especially a werewolf— is around. As he realizes you’re safe, a strong wave of warmth crashes over him. He’s really scared that something might happen to you because of the little life growing inside you. A life whose little heartbeat he can hear.

Since he met you in the clinic for the first time, he’s been hearing that faint heartbeat. He’s also been able to scent the baby’s smell; it’s kind of human, but not entirely. He knew from the first second that it was his child, but he also knew there was something off. It wasn’t just about the baby, it was also about you. Your scent is different than any other human.

But the only thing he found strange about you is the fact that he couldn’t find anything about your parents. Outside their life here, there’s nothing from before. It’s like they never existed before. It’s definitely odd.

Despite all of that, hearing his child’s heartbeat reassures him. Deep down, since the beginning, he’s been hoping you’d keep the baby. His baby.

Suddenly, you look out the window. Under a streetlamp, not too far away, you notice someone looking in your direction. For a very split second, you feel scared, but you’re suddenly reassured. Even though you can’t see the person’s face, you know who it is. You can feel his presence. It’s Jungkook.    

You get a confirmation when his eyes take a red wolf form. The exact same form when he partially shifted into a wolf.

Jungkook, on his side, can swear that he saw your eyes turned to a blue color. A deep blue with something wolfish about them. It happens so fast, but he knows what he saw. After all, it seems that you’re not human. You’re a werewolf. And it changes everything now.

please note that the taglist is closed!

[theartsharki]

Giggling against gravity.

Based on a moment in chapter 3 of this fic.

bonus:

[lavender-vixen]

What would Henry do if he found out his crush was one of the losers’ older sister? Let’s go with Eddie’s older sister. ALSO I love your most recent story, please do more! 🫡

"You’re a Kaspbrak?" (Henry Bowers x Eddie’s Older Sister!Reader)

Henry didn’t believe it at first. He heard the name. Kaspbrak. He felt it in his mouth, muttered it under his breath, let it sit on his tongue like something rotten, something wrong. It didn’t fit you. Didn’t fit the way you stood, weight shifted to one hip, all confidence and sharp smiles and that way you looked at him. Like you weren’t afraid of him. Like you weren’t supposed to be afraid of him. Now it was clear as day.

Now he was staring at you in the dim light behind the school, cigarette burning down between his fingers, heart hammering like a drum. And he felt sick.

"You’re a fucking Kaspbrak?"

You just blinked. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Like this wasn’t the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to him. "Uh. Yeah?"

Henry let out a sharp laugh. Shook his head. His stomach churned. His jaw clenched. Because this wasn’t just some random girl. This wasn’t just some pretty thing he could fuck around with, mess with, toss away when he got bored.

This was Eddie fucking Kaspbrak’s sister. That pathetic, whiny little freak. That useless, pathetic waste of space. Now Henry wanted to put his hands on you? Now he wanted to kiss you, touch you, maybe even keep you? Now he wanted to let you get away with shit no one else could?

No. Fuck no. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t. Then Henry was a joke. And Henry Bowers was nobody’s joke.

Days passed. He avoided you. Tried to. Didn’t work. Because you were always there. Like you were daring him. Like you were waiting for him to make a move.

When you finally cornered him behind the bleachers, hands on your hips, eyes narrowed, lips pursed. "Take it easy on my little brother."

The words hit him like a train. Henry scoffed. Flicked his cigarette. "What, you got some kinda death wish? You think you can just ask me that?"

You didn’t waver. Didn’t blink. "I know I can."

Henry hated that. Hated that you weren’t scared. Hated that you had the guts to tell him what to do. Hated that he didn’t want to shove you off him, tell you to fuck off, end this right now.

Instead, he found himself gritting his teeth, exhaling slow, muttering—"Yeah. Fine. Whatever."

And then he stormed off before you could see just how much he hated himself for saying it.

His boys didn’t buy it. Patrick was the first to speak.

"That was bullshit, right?"

Henry didn’t answer.

Patrick smirked. "C’mon, Bowers. You’re really gonna go soft ‘cause some girl with nice tits told you to?"

Henry shoved him. Hard. Patrick laughed, but he shut up. Because Henry was dead serious.

But he wasn’t soft with you. Not in the way they thought. Not in the way he thought, either. Because yeah, maybe he quit smoking around you, because you told him it made you sick. And yeah, maybe he didn’t go out of his way to trip Kaspbrak in the halls anymore.

And yeah, maybe he let you sit in his car, let you talk about whatever you wanted, let you take up space in his head. But he didn’t take you home. He didn’t let you see Butch. Didn’t let Butch see you.

Not even when Butch asked. "Where you been sneaking off to, boy?"

Henry just shrugged, didn’t answer, didn’t even look up from the dinner table. Butch didn’t like that. Didn’t like it when Henry kept things from him. Didn’t like it when Henry had things of his own. But Henry wasn’t giving this up. Not for him. Not for anyone.

Henry laughed anyway. If he didn’t, he might actually have to deal with the fact that you meant something to him. And that was a nightmare.

And if Henry was going down for it, then he was taking you with him.

Eddie knew. He had known for weeks now. Had known since he saw you climb into Henry’s car, since he saw the way Bowers looked at you, since he heard Patrick Hockstetter crack some disgusting joke in the school parking lot.

Had known and had been praying—praying—that it wasn’t true. Tonight, Eddie had finally had enough. So when you slipped back into the house late, sneakers barely making a sound on the carpet, thinking everyone was asleep—Eddie was already waiting.

Sitting in the dark, hands clenched into fists, voice shaking as he spat—"How the fuck could you do this to me?"

"Eddie—"

"Don’t."

His voice was sharp, angry, unlike anything you’d ever heard from him before. He was breathing fast, his little chest rising and falling too quick, like he was about to have a panic attack.

"Do you even know what you’re doing? Do you even know what kind of person he is?"

You sighed, ran a hand through your hair, tried to keep calm. "Yeah, Eddie. I do."

That was the wrong thing to say. Suddenly, Eddie was on his feet, shaking, screaming at you—"Then you’re just as fucking crazy as he is!"

Henry could see it from a mile away. Could see Eddie losing his shit, could see the way you looked shaken, could see the way you hesitated before walking into school the next morning.

Henry didn’t like that. Didn’t like Eddie talking to you like that, didn’t like you coming to school with that look on your face, like maybe you were thinking about ending this, like maybe you were thinking about leaving.

So when Eddie Kaspbrak walked past him in the hall that day, eyes burning with pure rage—Henry grabbed him. Hard.

Shoved him up against the lockers, held him there, leaned in close. "You don’t tell her what to do, Kaspbrak."

Eddie gritted his teeth, his tiny hands balling into fists at his sides. "You don’t fucking deserve her."

Henry just laughed. "Yeah? Well, I got her anyway, so what the fuck does that say about you?"

And when Eddie tried to swing, tried to throw a punch that barely even grazed his jaw, Henry just grabbed his wrist, squeezed way too hard, grinning as Eddie yelped in pain.

"Try that again, little man, and I swear to God—"

"Henry!" Your voice cut through the hallway, sharp, panicked, furious.

Henry let go. Only because you were there. Only because he didn’t want to scare you off. Not yet. Not when he was this close to having you for real.

That was the same week his father found out. Henry knew it would happen eventually. It was so much worse than he expected. It happened in the worst way.

Henry didn’t think his old man knew shit. But he did. And that made Henry furious.

It happened in the living room, same as always. Butch sitting in his recliner, smoking, bottle of whiskey half-empty on the table, the static drone of the TV filling the silence. Henry had barely gotten through the front door when Butch spoke.

"I know about the girl."

Henry froze. Fingers curling into fists at his sides. "What?"

Butch took a long drag from his cigarette. Didn’t even look up. "The Kaspbrak girl. The one you been sneakin’ around with. Don’t be stupid, boy."

Henry snorted. "Right. Thanks for the advice, Dad."

Butch kept going. "Don’t you dare get her pregnant. You hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever—"

"No. Not whatever." Butch finally looked up, eyes dark, dangerous. "You knock her up, you’re out of my house. Done. You figure your own shit out. I ain’t dealin’ with it."

Henry felt something snap. "Like I’d give a fuck."

Butch exhaled slow. Then he stood up. And before Henry could blink, before he could mouth off again—Butch grabbed him by the shirt. Shoved him hard, back slamming against the kitchen wall. Not enough to really hurt. But enough to make a point. Enough to remind him who was in charge.

Henry saw red. So he did what he always did. He fought back.

The fight was short, ugly, pointless. Henry threw a punch. Butch blocked it, shoved him again, barked something about ‘respect.’ Henry spat on the floor. Then he grabbed his keys and left.

Didn’t look back. Didn’t care. He just got in his car. And drove. Because there was only one place he wanted to be right now.

It was late. Your house was quiet, lights off, everyone sleeping. Henry parked on the street. Sat there for a minute, breathing hard, gripping the steering wheel. Then he climbed out. And up.

Your balcony wasn’t hard to reach. He’d done it before. And when he knocked—sharp, impatient, needing—You were already awake. Already at the window, looking at him with wide, confused eyes.

"Henry?"

"Come with me."

Your stomach tightened. "Where?"

"Just come." His voice was low, rough. Begging, but in that Henry Bowers kind of way.

You didn’t ask questions. Didn’t argue. Just grabbed your jacket. And followed him.

The car ride was silent. Tense. Henry drove too fast, too reckless, hands gripping the wheel like he wanted to strangle something. You watched him. Waited. Didn’t push.

And when he finally pulled up to the quarry, killed the engine, just sat there—breathing hard, staring out at nothing—You knew. Something had happened. Something bad. And you knew exactly how to get his mind off it.

It started fast. Fingers gripping. Mouths crashing. Teeth, tongue, heat.

You barely got the words "Henry, are you okay?" out before he was pulling you into his lap, hands sliding under your shirt, voice all low and rough and desperate.

"Just shut up, baby."

So you did. You shut up. And let him take. Because that’s what he needed. That’s what you both needed. And in the backseat of Henry’s car, windows fogged, bodies tangled, breathless and wanting, nothing else mattered.

Not Eddie. Not Butch. Not this town. Just this. Just him. Just you.

After, it was quiet. Not awkward. Just quiet. You curled up against him, head on his chest, his arm slung lazily over you, the smell of sweat and cigarette smoke thick in the air.

Henry was distant. Eyes staring out the window, lost in something else. You traced slow circles on his skin. Watched him.

"You okay?"

It took him a second. Then he exhaled. Long. Slow. Ran a hand through his hair. "I just can’t wait to get the hell out of Derry."

His voice was flat, tired. But then he glanced down at you. And smirked. "With you."

Your heart skipped. You realized he meant it. Henry meant it. That scared you more than anything. Henry Bowers didn’t make promises. Now he was making one.

And if he meant it, then you were in way too deep.

[baisemains]

Elements of Desire

Chapter 1: Freaks & Geeks

single mom!sevika x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

contains: fluff! just a meet cute really, timebomb as a plot device, age gap technically (reader is early 30’s)

description: your newest student clashing with your brightest might be the best thing that ever happened to you.

ao3 link | spotify playlist

next // sevika masterlist

It was a normal Thursday morning and you were on your way to your chemistry classroom, already late to prep for your first class when your phone beeps. Hearing the tell-tale ring of Outlook, you know it’s something important so you pull it out of your pocket and see that the school secretary has emailed you.

‘New student being added to your first period, updating your roster now.’'

You internally groan, you’ve officially hit max occupancy for the year and it’s only the first week of October.

Taking a deep breath, you reach your classroom and quickly start to put your things in the corner behind your desk before your students start arriving.

Hearing footsteps, you look up and see one of your favorite students, Ekko, walking in.

“Hey dude, ready for today’s quiz?”

He smiles at you, both of you already knowing the answer. Ekko is the top student in your class by a mile, you’ve got no worries when it comes to him.

“Of course, teach, when have I ever let you down?”

You laugh and go back to pulling out your materials for the day.

The rest of your class files in within the next few minutes, and you’re just about to start the day’s lesson when there’s a gentle knock on the door.

Walking over, you open the door confused and see a blue haired girl standing there, nervously twiddling with the straps of her backpack.

“Hi, I’m Powder, they told me this was my first period…?”

You school your face and usher her inside, smiling as she stands at the front of the class, unsure of what to do.

“Everybody, this is Powder, our new student. Make sure you help her out if she needs it, alright?”

Murmurs of agreement float around the room as you turn to Powder.

“Follow me, I’m gonna introduce you to your lab partner.”

You walk her to the very back row of tables and stop next to Ekko’s station.

“Powder, meet Ekko. Ekko, meet Powder, your new partner.”

Ekko looks up from where he was writing in his notebook and furrows his eyebrows.

“…What do you mean, my new partner? I thought you said I could go without one this year.”

“I did, before the district filled up my class and left me no choice.”

“That’s not fair! A partner is just gonna slow me down, I’m gonna have to help her and do my work!”

Ekko starts to plead his case with you, but you hear Powder shuffle behind you and you’re not having it.

“Hey. I know it’s not an ideal situation, dude, but we’ve gotta work with what we’ve got. Give her a chance before you say anything else, alright?”

You raise an eyebrow at him and his shoulders slump, knowing you’re right. He never could really be mad at his favorite teacher.

“Okay, teach, my bad.”

He clears his stuff off of the chair next to him and you gesture for Powder to sit down.

“I’ll be right back with an assessment, okay? Let’s see where your chemistry skills are at.”

You leave the two of them and walk back to your desk to grab a general knowledge test so you can gauge where Powder sits in relation to the rest of your class. You hope she’s at least got the basics down or you’ll really feel bad for making her Ekko’s partner.

Heading over and giving it to her, you tell her to take as long as she needs while you hand out the planned quiz to everyone else.

While the kids are doing that, you sit at your desk and start grading assignments from last class. You’ve barely gotten through a handful when Powder walks up to your desk. Assuming she needs help, you look up at her and smile.

“What’s up Powder?”

Her eyes flicker between you and your computer as she chews on her lip.

“Um, I…finished my test.”

You blink at her. Glancing at your clock, it’s barely been fifteen minutes when it should’ve taken her at least thirty, and that’s comparing it to your brightest students.

Smiling softly to not make her so nervous, you put your hand out and ask to see it.

Scanning it over, you’re in shock. Every answer seems correct so far and all her work is accounted for. You wonder for a second if Ekko had helped her but quickly shot down that thought when you remember how reluctant he was to have a lab partner.

“Powder, this looks…perfect. Have you taken chemistry before?”

She lets out a shy smile as she answers.

“No, I just really like math.”

The gears in your head begin to turn as you realize you may have a star student on your hands.

“That’s great to hear! You think you’d feel comfortable taking today’s quiz? It covers the last couple units we’ve been working on.”

Her smile broadens at that.

“Yeah, that sounds okay.”

By the end of class, Powder’s successfully caught up to the rest of the kids and is starting to become an active participant, much to Ekko’s chagrin.

The next couple weeks of classes pass by quickly, and a new rivalry begins to bloom between Ekko and Powder.

At first, you thought it was just friendly competition between partners but you soon realize it’s more than that.

One day, you hear bickering from the back of the classroom and see Powder trying to reach for a test tube Ekko is holding.

The closer you get, the better you understand them when you hear Ekko yell, “I don’t need your help with this, you’re just gonna jinx me!”

As he says that, he leans back and begins to tilt the test tube directly over the boy standing at the next station.

Almost as if in slow motion, you immediately leap forward and push him out of the way as the liquid pours onto the ground and sizzles.

The entire class goes silent as you stand there staring at your two best students, feeling the smoke pour out of your ears.

The dam finally breaks as you loudly scold them both about safety guidelines and the hazards of the chemicals they’re dealing with.

They have the decency to look embarrassed and apologize to their classmate when you tell them that you’ll be contacting their parents.

Both of them look at you in horror and beg you not to, but your mind is already made up and you head to your desk to email their parents about a conference as soon as possible.

Ekko’s parents are able to meet that evening, a lovely couple that you met at Back To School Night, who apologize profusely for their son’s actions.

You tell them how you’re not going to go too hard on their son because he’s usually your best student and you know this isn’t typical behavior from him, although you do expect him to clean up his act.

Ekko sincerely apologizes and you nod, shooting him a quick smile to let him know you accept.

They thank you for your time and promise that he will no longer be a problem in class, whisking him out of the room with a large hand gripping the back of his neck.

The next night, you’re set to meet Powder’s mom as she was busy the previous one.

Having zero idea what to expect, her very curt reply to your email asking to meet didn’t leave you a whole lot to work with.

You just hope she’s not one of those parents who expect the teacher to be their kid’s only disciplinarian, you have enough of those already.

It’s nearing five o’ clock, the designated time for your meeting so you start organizing your desk a bit, not wanting anyone to think you’re a slob.

As you’re facing away from the entrance, you hear a gentle knock from the doorway and as you turn around to face your visitors, you wish you had googled the name from your email.

The last thing you’d imagined Powder’s mom to be was the hottest woman you’d ever seen, but you remind yourself she was still a parent you needed to talk to, so before you think about it too much, you wave them over.

“Please come in, both of you.”

Powder walks in first, sheepish with her hands behind her back.

Her mom follows, and your eyes trace over her face, having to look up the closer she gets.

You notice her thick eyebrows, slightly furrowed at the moment, framing her daunting grey eyes. Short black hair caresses her face, threatening to hide it from view. Her nose is prominent, and you decide how well it suits her. She also has a labret piercing, which draws your attention to her thick lips, currently situated into a closed half smile.

You don’t even realize you’re looking at her mouth until she starts talking.

“Sevika, Powder’s mom.”

Her large hand stretches out towards you and when you slip your hand into hers, it takes a good amount of effort to not shake it for longer than necessary.

It’s surprisingly soft, even with all of the calluses you can feel, and pleasantly warm. You wonder if she was wearing gloves to protect them from the chilly fall air outside or if she's just blessed with good genes.

Introducing yourself as well, you remove your hand from hers and drop it to your side, already feeling like you’re missing something.

Now looking between the two, you think that Powder is maybe adopted – or looks like her dad, you dreadfully think to yourself – because she doesn’t bear any resemblance to the Amazon in front of you.

Before you can say anything else, the woman in front of you takes a step back and nudges Powder’s shoulder before stuffing both of her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket.

“Go ahead, tell her.”

Your eyes flick up to Sevika, who’s smirking at her daughter and you quickly look back down before you catch her eye.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting lately, I never meant to let it go that far. I promise to lock in and be the student you deserve,” Powder declares with watery eyes, looking down at the floor when she’s done talking.

Pressing your lips together to contain your laugh, you close your eyes for a couple of seconds to gather yourself, finally opening them to see that Sevika is looking right at you.

Breaking the eye contact and clearing your throat, you look down at the girl in front of you and lay your hand on her shoulder.

“Thank you for apologizing Powder, it means a lot. I know you have what it takes to be an amazing student, you’ve been doing it this whole time. You just gotta quit the stuff with Ekko.”

She looks up at you at that, a defiant glint in her eye.

“You got it, teach,” she tells you through gritted teeth.

You giggle at her response, and then remember something else you wanted to bring up in this meeting, gesturing for both of them to sit at the station in the front row.

Grabbing a flyer from your desk, you walk back over and set it down in front of Sevika.

“So there’s a science fair coming up in the spring, and I think Powder should enter.”

Two pairs of eyes look up at you with matching lifted eyebrows, and for the first time tonight, you see a resemblance.

After laughing in your head, you continue on with your explanation.

“It’s open to all high schoolers in the state, and there’s a cash prize for the top three students; $10,000 for third, $25,000 for second, and $50,000 for first.”

Sevika’s eyes widen, letting her stoic mask slip for the first time tonight.

“The idea is to give them a head start on a college fund, but because the prize pool is so large, they require applications to even be able to conduct an actual project. They only accept the top 1,000 submissions, and then they cut it down to 100, but I really feel like Powder has a shot.”

You look between the two sitting in front you, gauging reactions.

Sevika chews the inside of her cheek as she glares at the flyer in front of her.

The first thing that enters her mind is just how life changing that money would be.

Powder's never wanted for anything, but it's also been a struggle to give her the best life Sevika feels she deserves, especially being a single mother.

'...50 grand for first place, huh?"

Sevika looks over the flyer skeptically for a few beats longer before passing it to Powder, who looks like she's about to faint from excitement.

You rub your hand on the back of your neck, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed for just throwing the idea out there like that.

Sevika's grey eyes flick back over to you after observing her daughter for a couple seconds.

"How much work is a project like this gonna require?"

Breathing an internal sigh of relief, you feel like you have a shot to convince her.

“It is gonna take up most of her free time, until the spring, I won’t lie, but if she can pull this off, it’ll all be worth it.”

Sevika lets out a scoff at that, crossing her arms over her chest as she leans back in her chair.

"So I'm just supposed to let her spend months at your beck and call? No way, I-"

Powder suddenly slams her palm on the table before Sevika can protest further.

"Pleaseee, mom?”

Sevika looks down at her daughter, eyes narrowing at being cut off.

"This could seriously change my life, our life, and I promise it won't get in the way of my school work. I won't let you down.”

Sevika’s demeanor softens at that, seeing Powder’s determination reminds her of herself in a way.

After a few seconds of silence, Sevika turns back to where you’re standing and pierces you with a look.

“I’m not saying yes. I’ll think about it, but I do want you to send me more information about this thing.”

You nod fervently, grabbing the flyer and ripping a piece off the bottom to jot your number onto it.

Passing it to Sevika, you smile warmly.

“Of course, that sounds great. You’ll have my number if you need anything.”

She takes the slip, briefly touching your fingertips as she pulls it away, your cheeks heating up at the contact.

You look down at Powder, and she’s almost in tears with excitement.

Sevika rises from her chair and motions for Powder to follow as she stands in front of you.

“I’m serious about what I said. I want every bit of information you have on this, and then I’ll consider my answer.”

To punctuate her sentence, she sticks her hand out for another handshake, and this time, you grip her palm with the same energy she’s giving you, determined to show her that you’re serious about this.

“Of course, Sevika. You have my word.”

Her mouth twitches up into a small smile when you say her name, deciding she likes the way it sounds.

You notice her small gap for the first time, and feel a little swirl in your stomach.

“We’ll be in touch then, miss. Powder, let’s go babe, I gotta grab your sister and get dinner started.”

She drops your hand – slowly, you realize – and the two of them leave out the way they came, Powder clutching the flyer in hand and waving at you as they disappear from your sight.

Taking a seat in your desk chair, you start drafting up an email with more information about the science fair to Sevika, not wanting to waste any time.

It's almost an hour later when you're finally done detailing everything Sevika needs to know, and once you hit send, you lean back in your chair and finally let out the breath you'd been holding in.

The whole interaction left you feeling a bit frazzled, but not in a bad way.

You couldn't stop thinking about Sevika's face, the crinkle in her eyebrows whenever she looked at you, her eyes boring holes into your very soul.

Really, you can't help but be a bit frustrated at the fact you hadn't been able to stop staring at her the entire time, wondering what's wrong with you for thirsting over one of your students' moms.

With an annoyed groan, you rub your face to hopefully snap yourself out of it and pack up your things to leave for the night, thoughts occupied by this new character in your life.

[coy-lee]

Here a the inspo for that Lil comic I made before. I ain't fixing this up anymore so here it iiiis! This was inspired by my brain rot every time I would sneak up on John while he was guarding camp. And "Half-pint" is my personal nickname for John via my Arthur.

[the-kr8tor]

Make Waves

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 12.4k

Synopsis: The Mermaid's head proves to be a pirate's paradise.

Tags: No use Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), pirate AU, Reader has nicknames, A sequel to BDAS, CW alcohol mention, CW food mention, CW suggestive, CW violence, CW guns, fluff.

Navigation

Beyond the Sea of Night Masterlist

Chapter 2 >>> Chapter 3

Balancing on the bowsprit has always been your one weakness. That and throwing a grappling hook, but you have no choice but to cross the beam when Hobie's on the other end and he hasn't had his breakfast yet. Stubborn as he is, he's way too deep in what he's doing for him to remember to eat. So it's up to you to keep the captain well fed, for your own sanity and his health of course.

The mermaid's head is getting closer by the hour, and the rest of the crew is slowly waking up to the smell of porridge, and land just a stone's throw away.

With both hands occupied, it leaves you little space to keep your balance while trying not to spill the cup of coffee in one, and in the other a bowl of rice porridge. You carefully walk over to Hobie, who's currently facing the sea. Always the daredevil while he teeters off the edge dangerously. His shoulders are slouched, quil scribbling loudly on the piece of parchment. You worry that he'll fall off the ship and into the waters. But you always worry whether he's near an open flame or just sitting with you in bed. You guess that's just a part of loving someone.

“I won't save you if you fall into the shark infested waters.” You say, still slowly making your way towards him.

He chuckles, looking over his shoulder as he gazes at you while the sun is in his eyes. “Between us, love, you look like you're the one who’s about to fall.”

You pause, huffing while your legs tremble. The waves lap at the bow of the ship, crashing against the wood that adds to your worry of falling. You've never been afraid of heights this much since you love climbing things, but the sea looks like it would swallow you whole if you fall in its uncharted waters.

“Can you help me please?”

“So you won't rescue me if I fall but I have to save you if you do?” Raising a brow and clicking his tongue, he smiles teasingly at you. “Double standards, love.” His actions betray him though as he stands up and walks effortlessly on the beam. “Is this for me?”

“No, it's for the bloody sharks, yes it's for you, Hobie. And as if I won't jump in after you.” Handing him the bowl, he tucks the paper in his armpit, and the ink and quill in his vest pockets. Surely smudging ink inside but he doesn't seem to care as he takes your hand and slowly guides you towards the end of the bowsprit. “Why do you keep hanging out here? You could fall.”

Watching where you place your bare feet with your shoes left at the deck safely. You decide to just slide your feet over, it seems easier than walking on what practically is a tightrope with its slim beam of wood that turns skinnier the further you walk to the end. It reminds you of walking the plank back then. But you continue, wanting to spend more time with him and seeing what he likes most.

“It's quiet ‘ere, ‘sides, the view isn't so bad either.”

“It kind of reminds me of walking the plank.” You tell him your thoughts like you always do, not intending for it to strike him.

With your words, Hobie turns around to face you, expression apologetic. “Shit, let's go back then, lovie.”

Your heart feels warm. “No, I was just thinking loudly, let's continue on.”

“If it makes you feel unsafe—”

“You're here, Hobie, I feel safe.” You take his cheek, feeling his scruff, smiling while the early morning sun peeks out from the clouds fully, drenching the two of you in sunlight. He's right, it's beautiful here as you gaze at him in the heavenly light. “And the view is perfect for eating breakfast.”

“Are you sure?” He continues to worry, hand still holding onto you, securing you beside him while you nod with a smile. “Tell me if it gets too much, yeah?”

“I will, come on, the porridge is getting cold.” Nudging him gently, he leans close and kisses the corner of your eye as you hum against the kiss before he pulls away and continues to trek towards the edge.

Once his foot hits the end, he slowly sits down, hand sliding from your hand to your waist as he leads you down on the beam. It takes a few seconds to find your balance, and once you do, you let out a sigh. Your position is mirrored with him as you face Hobie. He straddles the beam while you gaze at him with the backdrop of the mermaid's head. The black pearl swings against his clavicle, a mark of all the things you two endured together. His breezy tunic is unbuttoned, spider tattoo, and scars— some you've mended with your own hands are peeking out while the sun outlines his torso with its light. The bandana that he always wears even though you've told him a dozen times that he still looks handsome with or without hair, is tucked inside his back pocket, tufts of soft curls blowing in the wind. it's the best view you could ever afford. And it beats the view from the crow's nest, anything with him beats everything else.

Unbeknownst to you, he sees you in the forefront of the whole Osprey while the sunlight catches in your eyes. You look like you belong here, a bandolier strapped at your front with a silver octopus wrapped around the leather, one that he stole off a merchant ship a few months ago. You have a flowy top on that he has seen a hundred times on you before but always has him weak in the knees. Trousers that finally fit you, and the cutlass that swings from your hip— a proper pirate that belongs beside the captain on the ship he now calls home with you and his family in it. He couldn't ask for anything else, no treasure could compare to what he has now, what was once a life he once dreamt of in the tiny four walls of his childhood home. He could not ask for more. A pirate should ask for more, to satiate his hunger for more, more, more. But he's satisfied with this, just this. Everything good that happens after this is just a bonus.

“Which one is it, coffee or continuing to ogle me, hm, captain?”

A smile slowly spreads on his lips, silver piercings glimmering under the light as he snatches the cup from your hand. “Coffee first, then I'll make eyes at you again after.”

“Good choice,” you joke back, helping carry the load by taking the parchment from his arm while he balances the bowl on the beam. “Is this the pirate code?” He hums, taking a generous amount of porridge and blowing the heat away before feeding you the first spoonful.

You open your mouth as you receive the porridge. It needs more salt, you thought as you start to read the list while Hobie continues to share the breakfast with you. You see a lot of it is for the benefit of the crew more than the captain. Some are about the equal share of booty, a couple that says that everyone has a vote in all decisions, and one that reads that all in fighting must be resolved by arm wrestling. It even has a detailed line on what the punishment will be for a crew member who is found to be stealing from a fellow crew.

“‘Candles and oil lamps must be shut off before nine.’ I have a feeling that one is catered to me.”

“You tell me, scuttlebutt.” Nudging your dangling foot with his own, he finishes his breakfast and moves on to his cup of coffee while you roll your eyes playfully and continue to read. “D’you approve of ‘em?”

“Yeah…” you read the second to the last line, “‘Mutineers and traitors found will be keelhauled.’ What's keelhauled?”

Gulping down the bitter drink, he finishes it and neatly places the cup inside the empty bowl. “Let's hope you never get to know what that is.”

“Is it that bad?”

Hobie wants to spare you the gruesome details, so he sugarcoats it as much as he can. “We tie them by their feet and bound their hands together. After that we cover their head with a sack and…” the anticipation is killing you. “... throw them overboard while they're gettin’ dragged by the rope through the underside of the ship. We then pull them out, if they live after that we do it again.”

You shudder at the thought, imagining a beaten and battered body dangling on a rope. “Until they stop moving.”

“Until they stop movin’, yeah. If that doesn't happen after three times, they get shot.” He eyes the pirate code in your hands. The parchment flutters in the wind while he sees Gwen wave at him from his peripheral, he gestures to her, and she stomps her foot impatiently. “I'd take it out but it's a necessary evil so they won't even try.”

“No, I get it. It's a warning.” You nod, changing the grim subject as you smile sweetly so he could forget the previous conversation. Eyes flicking down to read the last line, your heart swells at the words written by his hand. “‘Any offence against the ship's doctor will be dealt with by the captain himself.’”

“That one's new.”

As you gaze up at him fondly, you find that he has the softest look on his face whilst he waits for your reaction. “You're too kind, captain.”

“Nah,” shaking his head, his smile stays, “you're jus’ too valuable to lose, doc.”

You chuckle, hitting his head with the parchment. “Fuck you.”

“You already di—” He gets a face full of the paper smacking him. Laughing above the rush of the wind, he holds onto the beam while his head lolls back in laughter.

Rolling the paper neatly, you hand it to him as his giggles get carried by the breeze. “So,” you clasp your hands together, inhaling the salty air. “can I swear now? Y’know, just get it done before the vultures could smell that I'm not officially one of them.”

Hobie snickers, “don't call ‘em vultures and you'll be fine. D’you want to do it ‘ere? We can do it in my quarters.”

“Hobie, if we do it there then we won't be getting out until we hit land.” Your eyes shine with mischief, one that he is familiar with as realization flickers on his face. Chin tucked on his clavicle while shaking his head, you see a rare flustered captain. “If you know what I mean.” Flicking his forehead, he gazes at you as you wiggle your brows.

“We jus' talked ‘bout keelhaulin’ and you're thinkin' ‘bout that?” Hobie can't help but smile lopsidedly at you like a lovestruck teenager.

Taking the empty cup, you sniff at it. “I think something's in the coffee, Hobie—”

“It's not the coffee, love.” Moving close, hand braced on your knee, and the other pushing down the cup, he grins wickedly at you. “I think it's jus' you.”

“Or…” you whisper against his lips, “I've been hanging around you too much.”

“Is that why you still have a separate cabin, hm? So that you don't spend too much time with me and infect you with my… rapscallion thoughts?” His breath fans your lips as he squeezes your knee, eyes never leaving your own.

“No, it's because…” you're at a loss of words as he inches closer to you, unable to let out your doubts. “...of my stuff.”

“You can put your stuff in my quarters,” nudging your nose, he inhales before brushing his lips against your own. “I made space for you already.”

“Wait, you did?” Leaning away, hands on his shoulders, you gaze at him lovingly. “Did you really?”

Hobie's eyes softened, hands reaching to hold your face, “‘course, love, why wouldn't I?”

“I don't know.” You shake your head gently, leaning against his touch while a dozen doubts curl around your mind. “Would I fit?” He knows what you truly meant.

“I love you, you do know that, right?” You nod, cheeks searing. He finally kisses you, brief yet the message is received as he leans away. “You always have a space with me, I'll always make space for you.” As he brushes away your doubts with another heavy kiss on your cheek, you melt in his arms.

“Alright then.” You say against his chest, cheek pressed on top of the spider tattoo, nosing his chest as your arms wrap around him comfortably. “I'll move in. Do you have a space for Jeremiah?”

Hobie furrows his brows, moving back to look at you. “Who's Jeremiah?”

“My skull.”

Hobie chuckles that quickly turns into a loud guffaw. You follow suit, laughing together with him right on the bowsprit. He pulls you in closer, accidentally bumping into the empty bowl and cup in the middle between you two that falls into the depths with a splash.

“Well shit.” He says, looking down while he still holds onto you.

“Good thing that wasn't the expensive one.” Now that there's no barrier, you scooch closer, and he's not in the habit of saying no to you so he hooks your legs, holding under your knees, and placing them around his hips while he cradles you in place securely. You run your palms all over his chest, unabashedly touching him. “What happens now?”

“We sail the seven seas and be pirates until we decide to retire, or the sea takes us together.” Kissing your temple, he lets you rest against him. We and together, casual yet affectionate words that have your eyes filling with gentle tears. Just you and him until the salty end. “Whichever comes first.”

“I vote on the former.” You hum, knuckles running along his spine that have goosebumps appearing on his arms. “Hey, Hobie?” Craning your neck up, he raises a brow and gazes down at you, chin to chin and mere inches from your lips. “Gwen looks like she's about to kill us—”

“Stop fucking on the bowsprit and get your asses over here!” Your guffaws echo above the rushing waves.

“We're not—!” He looks down at the position that you two are in, and your cheeks run warm, hiding your giggles against his bare chest. “C’mon, before she pushes us off.”

—

You line up together with Lyla and George right at the helm. The ship is just at the mouth of the Mermaid's head and you can already see the bustling port from where you stand. People from all walks of life running around, trying to manage the busy port. The first thing you notice about them is the various weapons on them— swords of different shapes and sizes, and guns that they proudly wear around their hips. You're definitely not in a normal port town.

The sound of rustling paper takes your attention away from the ringing bells at the docks. Hobie takes the parchment from his coat pocket, reading through it for the crew. He's now decked out to keep appearances— an appearance of a tough and rugged captain that helped take out the king's flame. He doesn't usually care about keeping that image, but with him needing new crew, he needs to show them a leader. He has a rough leather coat on that has the same colour as burnt amber around his body, coat tails fluttering in the wind. It's scruffed but that adds to the charm. There’s a tricorn hat with a bird's feather and braided leather wrapped around it that you lovingly placed on his head a few minutes ago— which is placed right under a red bandana you've tied yourself. He's still the feared red spider after all, even without a hundred crew behind him or without sailing the original people's revenge.

His boots thump against the floorboards, chains rattling as he goes towards the front of the line where Lyla stands as she yawns. He looks just like how you first met him, intimidating, and that has your heart pumping— in a different way than before.

“I already swore before, Hobie.”

“Different ship and captain, different code. Hand on the paper and swear.” Hobie says with a slight scoff, trying to quicken the process before James, Miles, and Yuri could drop the anchors.

With a sigh, Lyla places her right hand on the rolled parchment. “I honour the code of the bloodsail pirates.” She says in a monotone voice, matching Hobie's emotion.

“Good, still alive, right? Not that hard?” He sarcastically remarks.

As much as they are similar to each other, they seem to not get along as well as the rest of the crew. It's probably Hobie's way of hazing Lyla. Or he's just irked that they come from the same thieves guild that she never fails to mention to him. Maybe one day he'll tell you all about that part of his past, for now you’ll leave it in the past just like he has.

She rolls her eyes, “y’know I'm technically your senior in the guild—”

“Yeah, I get it, you're old.” Hobie moves on to George, who's clearly having doubts while Lyla gasps in offense, holding onto her imaginary pearls as she stares at you. You could only shrug with amusement. “Are you sure ‘bout this, George?”

“It's the only way I get to stay here, right?” He whispers, eyes darting over to Gwen, who's manning the helm.

Hobie glances at you briefly before turning back to the older man. “Never said that, mate. You can stay on the island as my crew until you…” He inhales, staring eye to eye with him, grey crashing against blue. “...decide. No swearin’ needed.”

George appears to think it through, but once Gwen looks over her shoulder with a somewhat knowing glance, he places his hand on the parchment. “I swear.”

Hobie gives him a curt nod and a lingering look before walking towards you, who's probably the only one who's smiling during the ‘ceremony.’ His back relaxes, sighing with a relieved smile. “Scuttlebutt, d’you swear?”

Without trepidation, you place your palm against the paper that's wrapped around with a lilac ribbon. “I swear, captain.”

A smile slowly spreads across his face, rolled paper softly hitting your cheek as he pats you with it. “You're officially a pirate.”

Pav's sudden burst of cheers from above the crow's nest has you and the rest of the crew chuckling.

As you squint from the glare of the sun, you see him tossing something from above. Hundreds of paper scraps fall from the sky, raining down upon the ship in a flurry of hearts and rectangle shaped paper. One falls on your head, and Hobie plucks it off of you, grinning at the piece as the two of you wave at Pavitr, who waves back and hollers below. With the impromptu celebration, it even lightens George and Lyla's mood.

“Always a ball of sunshine.” Hobie murmurs, twirling the heart around his fingers. “He's goin’ to have to clean this all up.” Joking, he tugs you beside him, pocketing the paper before placing a kiss right on your forehead.

“I'll help him, don't worry.” Reaching to poke the crease in between his brows, you press on it gently until he smiles.

“We'll help him—”

“I just fucking mopped, Pav!” James yells from the deck while he lowers the wheel of the first anchor with Yuri. Pav just chortles from the crow's nest, clearly having no regrets when he made the crew smile. Or at least most of the crew.

“Ready to go, love?”

“With you?” He nods. “Always.”

—

The loud thump of the wooden ramp against the dock has your nerves lighting up again. It's been months since you've seen land, and now you're about to set foot in one, one that is strange and new to the likes of you. Pursing your lips together, you let James and George pass first with the rolling barrels stamped with your family's insignias as an excuse to not leave the ship just yet.

The Mermaid's head looks exactly like you expected it to be. People milling around the place, selling wares right from their back, and workers screaming and trying to get ahead of shipping schedule. You've been to a lot of port towns before, but none of them could compare to what you're seeing now, it's as if every pirate in the world congregated in the same place. There are hundreds or even thousands of them walking about the muddy and sandy streets of the Mermaid's head.

Houses and buildings are built around the port, various signs of business on display— a jeweller, a tavern, a warehouse and even a stable with horses and carriages. You have no idea how big even the island is, but from where you first saw it at sea, it seemed smaller. But as you now stand on the bow of the Osprey, looking over the chaos, the size could even rival the capital’s. There are stone roads all weaving and slithering around the cramped alleys of the town, oil lamps swinging on each corner that are protected by a steel column that looms above the street and a metal cage around the lamp itself. And rows upon rows of buildings— both made of wood and stone. Instead of the open sky, you stare above you and see the inside of the Mermaid's head. A cavernous roof of boulders and rocks shaped by the tides itself. A terrifying thought comes to you, that it could collapse and flatten everything, but if it has survived this long, then it'll continue to do so even after you're long gone.

As you look further into the island, the rocky roof stretches as far as it could until a canopy of trees of all kinds shields the busy place. Dappled sunlight passes through the gaps of leaves and branches, a reprieve from the dankness of the streets. You notice children running around, playing with toy swords and singing sea shanties.

Smiling, the hair on the back of your neck stands, smile wavering. And as you slowly turn towards the cause, you see an old man hunched behind a wooden barrel. His eyes are almost white in the dim light, wrinkled hands gripping the barrel as he stares at you heavily.

“Thinking of how you could burn this place?” Gwen sidles up next to you, and as you turn back towards the man, he's gone like the wind. “I was just joking.” Her brows knit together. “You alright?” She grasps your arm, following your line of sight. “Something wrong?”

“There was just this old man staring at me.”

“There are a lot of weird old people here.” She chuckles, taking your attention away from the empty space with a squeeze on your arm. “We call them sea crazy. You don't become that old without surviving horrors.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Exhaling out, you smile at her. “Penny for your thoughts, quartermaster?”

“Nothing much.” Releasing your hand, she leans against the railing and watches Miles haul crates towards the docks. “The streets here are called the shambles because of the rocky roads. Notice there's not a lot of chimneys?” You nod, “Fireplaces are regulated here since the canopy could easily catch fire, same goes for the ships. So if you want to cook or warm yourself up, you have to do it at a designated area or in one of the taverns or inns that are allowed to have one.”

“Mm-hmm.” You pretend disinterested but in truth you found everything fascinating. “What's going on between you and Miles, hm?” Nudging her, you wiggle your brows teasingly.

Gwen manages a flustered smile. “Stop, I literally gave you knowledge and this is how you repay me?” she gently pushes you, earning a chortle from you. But when you don't relent by staring her down with your dancing eyebrows, she sighs and puts her chin on top of her palm, soft blue eyes staring at Miles whilst he carries two sacks in one arm effortlessly. “We're good.” She says, hoping to satisfy your curiosity. But you don't ease up as you poke her bicep annoyingly. “Alright, fine! We're really good! He told me that he loved me—” Your squeal has her eyes rolling away as she tries to move away from you but you grab her arm, hugging her.

“Alright, I'm sorry! I won't ask anymore! Just stay for a bit.” You tap your head against hers.

With a sigh, Gwen walks back towards the bannister. “I don't ask about you and Hobie, doc.” She pointedly glares playfully at you.

“I know, gossip isn't your thing—”

“No, it's because you two leave little to the imagination.” Grimacing, she pinches your arm, earning a huff from you.

“Well I was just concerned, you know? I don't want to see any infighting.” You lie through your teeth as you side glance at her.

“Sure, sure, infighting, and it's not because you want to eavesdrop on our relationship.”

“Did you at least say it back?”

“Fuck you!” She guffaws, and the crew looks up at the two of you briefly with a shake of their heads and subtle smiles. “Seriously?”

“Well, did you?” You eye her, nudging relentlessly until she nods slowly. “I knew it! Oh young love!”

“Yeah, yeah shut up or I'll start asking about your nightly visits to the captain's quarters.” Gwen places her palm atop your face as you laugh against her.

“Fine, fine I'll stop.” Waving her hand away from your face, you two fall into a comfortable silence.

Seagulls cry above, perching themselves on top of the ship's mast. People yell along the shambles, and the world continues to turn while you and Gwen take a pause, just savouring each other's company.

“I think there's something going on with my dad.”

You crane your neck so fast to face her that there's an ache on your nape. “Gwen—”

“He's planning on leaving, isn't he?” Her baby blue eyes gaze at you softly, eyebrows furrowed as she grasps your hand. Squeezing her, you encourage her to continue. You look at her with a strained smile. “I don't blame him. We haven't seen each other since I Ieft. That makes it almost seven years now. It's been so long, but he's still my dad and I know my dad—” pausing, she grimaces. “and that probably sounds fucking horrible to you.”

“It's not, you had every reason to do that.” You twist in place, hip leaning against the railing to look at her better. “It's good that you still acknowledge that he's your father. It's a sign that you still love him.”

“I was just a kid. A shitty fucking kid who left her father to the wolves.”

“Still, just a kid who wanted to run away from it all. We have this… innate preservation to keep ourselves safe. And you were doing just that. You were afraid, Gwen.”

She nods, eyes glossing over. “I should've helped him at least, got him away from the cards but after mom— he couldn't bring himself to leave the betting table.” Wiping at a stray tear, she continues. “The lords took everything from family portraits to heirlooms, even my ballet shoes. Then our house. Maybe I should've stayed, but if I did, I wouldn't be here, I wouldn't have met him.” Glancing at Miles on the deck, he notices Gwen's eyes on him and he waves at the two of you with a smile. She smiles back before he returns to his task. “But I don't regret it, even with everything that happened. It's still a life well lived than shoveling shit at the stables to pay his debts.” Turning back to you, she inhales deeply. “I'm sorry for laying all this on you.”

“Lay it all on me, Gwen.” You joke, half genuine, opening your arms and surprisingly, she hugs you with her chin atop your shoulder. “You did everything you could, kid.”

“Thank you,” she whispers your name kindly. “And don't call me kid.” Squeezing you tightly, she whispers the words in a threatening manner that has you giggling. After a bout of chuckles, she relents. “Really, is it bad that I'm mad at him? He should've told me, I guess.”

“Not really that bad, I would be too.” With a chuckle and a pat on her back, she releases you, a bit reluctantly on her part.

“Yeah, I guess you're right.” Holding you at arm's length, she sighs loudly. “Maybe him leaving would be a good thing.”

“How so?”

“One less person to worry about on board.”

Craning your head at Hobie while he's carrying two sacks over his shoulder, it's as if you're immediately gravitating towards him, already finding him within the crowd of pirates. Then Pav and Miles stand beside him, chatting about something while Yuri and James walk past them with crates on each arm. Lyla crouches near the water, eyeing a frog floating beside the dock.

“Yeah, one less worry.”

“Does Hobie know about dad?” She pats your elbow.

“Yes, why? Worried that he'll throw him overboard?”

“No,” chuckling, she leaves the railing to help with carrying the bounty. “Is he worrying that I'll leave?”

“You know him well.” Smiling, you place your hands on your hips. “Yeah, he is.”

“Keep him guessing then, it's my revenge for all the shit he pulled.”

You can't help the grin on your face. “So you're staying then? And giving your captain stress?”

“Yes on both, landlubber.” Before she continues walking down the steps, she turns back to you. “And don't worry either, you can't get rid of me that easily.”

—

Placing the last crate on top of the other, you rub the sore part of your leg, neck stretching from the labour. A sudden yet familiar hand grasps at your nape, kneading it gently that has your strained muscles relaxing.

“Better?” Hobie whispers against the shell of your ear, other arm wrapped around your front protectively. Not even the hundred strangers milling about the port could stop him. He doesn't care when his blunderbuss and cutlass could do the talking to all the wandering eyes.

“Much.” Sighing, you lean against his chest. “So, what do we do with all of the loot?” You ask, head turning to face him as he gazes at you tenderly. “Sell it to some one eyed pirate with a pet parrot?”

Hobie snorts, hugging you closer as if there's still space between you. “We have a mate ‘ere who knows all the best places we could get a better price for these.” With the tip of his boot, he kicks the crate lightly. “Maybe even trade some for chocolates.”

“Oh, I'd love that. I miss hot chocolate.” Your wandering hands rub all over his arm as he smiles against your hairline. “And then what?”

“We use some of the coin to get our ship in better battling shape. Expand the deck by taking out a couple of balconies, get some red sails and—” he pauses then blinks and turns fully to you. “Are you sure you're alright with alterin’ the Osprey?”

“What's mine is yours, Hobie.” You peck his jaw, smiling against his skin. “Like I've told you a dozen times. You can do whatever you want with the ship.”

“Practically married, eh?” He stares at the man-of-war, expression faltering for a second. “It's your family's.”

Kissing him again until the crease in his forehead softens, you take his chin and turn him to face you. “You and the bloodsail pirates are my family now. If renovating the ship increases our survival out there then do it even if you have to break a few balconies and sell a bunch of plates. Do whatever it takes to keep our family safe.”

Hobie smiles, grey eyes twinkling as leans further to your lips. “Jus’ say the word if we're takin’ too much.”

“I won't but alright—”

His lips barely grazed yours when a booming voice echoes out. “Captain Hobart Brown!”

A chorus of swords are unsheathed, and a rouse of guns clicking in place as the crew behind you takes aim at the source of the call.

Hobie lifts up a palm behind him while he twists you around and shields you as he steps in front of your body. “What?”

The man with the handlebar mustache gulps down, hand hovering above his gun. He looks far too young to even have a moustache. “Captain Thorpe calls for you to meet him at the Tempest.”

“Who?” Hobie sucks in his teeth, still casual as you feel for the pommel of your cutlass.

The messenger grimaces but hides his annoyance. “Captain Thorpe Heinrick.”

“Ain't ringin’ any bells, mate.”

“Captain Thorpe ‘tide turner’ Heinrick—”

“Ah, that bloke!” Hobie has a shit eating grin on, hands flipping away his coat and places both hands on his belt that carries his blunderbusses, brandishing it to the man. “Maybe later.” With a simple look thrown at Gwen, she tells the others to back down and lower their weapons to the relief of the stranger. “As you can see, bit busy ‘ere.”

“But—”

Hobie shoos him away with a gesture, adding to the man's annoyance but walks away after a few seconds of thinking.

“What does Thorpe want with you?” Miles walks up to you and Hobie, still eyeing the retreating man.

“Fuck if I know.” He shrugs nonchalantly.

“Who's he?” You ask, heart steadying after the stare down.

“Jus' some bloke, c’mon and let's sell this bloody thing so we can get out of ‘ere.” Hobie waves the previous encounter away and throws his arm over your shoulders. “I'll introduce you to a mate of the bloodsail pirates.” You smile excitedly at that. “Lyla, George can you both guard the loot while we find a place to sell it?” George nods and sits on a crate while James breathes a sigh of relief that he wasn't given the duty.

“Sure—” Lyla starts.

“And no sleepin’”

“...fine.” Lyla huffs on top of a barrel, sitting cross legged. “Bring me a pastry, Yuri!”

Yuri gives her a thumbs up before excitedly running off.

“Where are we going exactly?” You ask Hobie as he leads you towards the inner streets of the Mermaid's head while the crew tags along, chatting happily amongst themselves.

“To the iron heart tavern, lovie.”

—

“So this is the place?” You ask Hobie beside you, squeezing his hand as you look up at the building that looks like it's about to fall from how tilted it is.

The logo of the iron heart tavern swings in the breeze, and inside is the rowdiest tavern you've ever had the displeasure of hearing. And you've been to a lot of taverns before. It's all brick and stone, damp with greenery slithering across the surface. The windows are long fogged up by the warmth inside, and the silhouettes of the patrons inside dance along the glass.

“Yeah,” Hobie grins, seemingly excited to see the place again. “This was our place whenever we port ‘ere. And Riri’s grandfather, a nice bloke, helped us get our sea legs out there.”

Yuri suddenly appears behind you, arms thrown around yours and Hobie's shoulders. “Hobie here is being too generous, this place was our home.”

“How so?”

“Lived, worked here—” a glass smashes inside as Miles doesn't even wince at the sound while he continues. “And Riri used to be a bloodsail pirate too, before her injury and retirement.”

“What happened to her?”

“Always the curious one, eh, landlubber?” Yuri shakes you in place and releases you as she squeezes in between you and Hobie to get inside the tavern. “You'll see!”

As you glance at Hobie, who just shrugs with a smile, you enter the place right after Yuri.

“Hey, Ri—!” Yuri dodges an oncoming axe thrown right at her head, it embeds in the wood beside her and you swear you almost saw the afterlife when it whizzed past you. “Is this how you welcome honoured guests now?!” She nonchalantly continues on, arms spread about as she yells above the crowd.

“You still owe me coin, Watanabe!” A woman tending the bar yells above the rowdy commotion of the tavern, hand holding onto another axe, ready to be thrown.

“Fuck me!” You grasp your chest, staring at the shiny axe beside you.

“You alright there, love?” Hobie asks, half concerned, half amused. “She does that.”

“Yeah, apparently, shit.” You heave, and Pavitr pats your shoulder, giving you an apologetic smile.

“She does that.” Pavitr repeats with a grin. “Don't take it the wrong way, and she never misses so that was on purpose. I think.” Pav says before joining the rest of the crew at the bar, all happily chatting with a brunette.

“Yeah, I heard. She's got great aim, I guess.” You sigh, hand still on your chest while Hobie yanks the axe out of the wall and places it beside his cutlass on his waist.

Hobie sighs, eyes soft as he brings his palm right above your heart, kneading gently. “If you give her your puppy dog eyes she might give you a free pint.”

“I'll keep that in mind. And that only works with you.” With a chuckle, you take his hand and place a kiss on the back of it before walking towards the bar, hand in hand with him. “Come on before she throws another one at us.”

You and Hobie navigate the rowdy tavern, dodging arms and glasses thrown across the room while a jaunty tune is playing on the piano beside the bar. The walls are all brick and mortar, old enough to have the wooden pillars buckling under the weight of the whole place. Each corner has a drunk pirate muttering sea shanties or admiring an anchor hanging from the wall. The whole place screams of pirates, from the jolly roger flag tacked above the bar, the classic skeleton and crossbones, to the tables made from various items from a ship— a giant wheel, a barrel and even a crow's nest that's turned upside down. Even the air smells of the salty sea with ale and rum filtering through the heavy air.

As you look up, you see a shark hanging from the ceiling, perfectly preserved with its maw opened and eyes open. It's a pirate's tavern alright, and they're not hiding their affiliation at all with the countless paintings and drawings of ships, the sea and islands all framed on the walls. There are even portraits of entire pirate crews and infamous pirates on the walls, their faces easily recognizable from when you saw them on bounty posters back in the day.

“Well, well, well what do we have here?” Riri eyes you down and you lift your chin up, not folding under her gaze. “The bloody duchess I see.” She glances at Hobie as you raise a brow at the title. “And the red spider, good to see you still alive, Hobie.” Flicking her eyes atop his head, she winces. “Can't say the same thing to your hair though.”

Hobie scoffs but his smile stays. “Good to see you too, Ri.”

“It's nice to finally meet you, Riri.” You smile, sitting in between Hobie and Yuri. “What's with ‘the bloody duchess?’”

“That,” she chuckles as she hands each of the crew their pints. James groans when the amber liquid hits his lips, Yuri licks the foam off the top of her glass, and the trio settle with clinking their glasses against each other before downing their drinks. “—Fucking hell, you're all thirsty.” Handing you a pint and a rum for Hobie, she continues. “Heard it from everyone, you're famous around these parts, you know?”

“Really,” you wrap your hands around the lukewarm glass, brows furrowed as you question her further. “Why? And why that title?”

“Sorry, about her, Ri.” Yuri says, wiping the top of her lip with her sleeve. “She's one of those people.”

Riri nods in understanding, hand patting Yuri's on the table. And you're scrunching your face at Yuri while the rest of the crew and their captain laughs against the mouth of their glass. You nudge Hobie with your elbow, and he splutters out some of his rum.

“Right, well, to feed your curiosity,” Riri puts her elbows on the counter, soft amber eyes that remind you a hearth stares you down with a smirk playing on her lips. “you did save the red spider from execution while wearing a bloody wedding dress right in the middle of the capital.” She flicks your glass, and the sound reverberates around your hands. “Add the fact that you did it in front of all the royals and navy. Word around here is that you killed Mathias too. Well, you're a fucking icon here, duchess.”

Hobie places his arm over your shoulders, proud of you as he pulls you in for a quick hug. “She's good, ain't she?”

“You sure do know how to pick them, captain.” She raises her own glass, filled with the same amber liquid, and Hobie clinks his drink with hers. You still have no idea how to feel about that title the people seemed to bestow upon you.

“Where's your grandfather?” Hobie asks, taking a sip and giving Riri back her axe, to which she hums in thanks.

“Dead.” Everyone stops and stares at her. “Dead on his feet, come on.” Riri laughs at their expressions while Hobie and the crew sighs, relief evident on each of their faces. “He's asleep upstairs, it's his age, you know. I'd wake him up but he'll just be cranky. So, what brings you all back here in our part of town? I heard about the shit you all pulled in the capital, making good waves throughout the land based on news around here.”

“Loot,” Hobie takes a final sip, emptying his drink. Riri gestures to refill it but he places his palm above the glass, indicating that he has had enough to drink. You can't help but pat his back for his restraint as he answers with a squeeze of your thigh. He's lessening his alcohol intake after you told him that it's not good for his liver in the long run. “You always know the best place to sell ‘em.”

“Ah, maybe this time you can pay your debt here, hm?” Riri wipes some glasses clean, and Hobie silently looks at his glass, avoiding Riri's shaking head teasingly. “The Jefferson's are still good for their money, better than our old usual. Or you could go to Chen's but that's across the island, but they still got Jefferson beat.”

“What d’you lot think?” Hobie turns towards the crew, asking for their opinion before handing Riri a coin for the information.

“Chen's,” Gwen and Miles say simultaneously as Miles subtly nudges her with a shy smile.

“Jefferson's.” James sighs, “my arms are tired, Hobie. I can't haul that stuff across the island!”

“I gotta agree with James,” Yuri adds, asking for another drink that Riri doesn't provide until Yuri bats her lashes that still doesn't work on the former pirate; so she shows her payment that she reluctantly gives to Riri's waiting hand. “Besides, that place is new, we don't know them.”

“Pav? Love?” Hobie waits for yours and Pavitr’s opinion. “We're two for two.”

“The second one.” Pav says while digging through the peanut bowl for dried raisins. “If it means we get more coin for doc's stuff then we go there.” You answer him by dragging a bowl beside Hobie that looks like it has more dried raisins towards him. Pav thanks you with a smile.

The rest waits for your opinion. Before you speak, you gulp down your drink and turn towards Riri, who has an impressed smile on her lips. “What do you think of Chen's? You've known them longer than us.”

“I once sold them a white gold brooch that they bought almost twice the price the Jefferson’s gave me.” She shrugs, refilling Yuri's third drink and fixing her stance as she shifts her feet. “They're new, yes, but that means they're trying to get ahead of the competition and other fences. They're reliable, and all you really need to do is haggle. That and you have to haul all your shit in yourselves.”

“Is there a chance that you have a wheelbarrow? Or better yet a cart with a horse?” You ask her, testing your luck with the new acquaintance.

A smile spreads across her lips, “we have both.” A round of sighs echoes around the bar. “You'll have to drive it yourselves though, I'd help, but y’know. Shit is hurting again.” She gestures towards her leg, and with your curiosity, you take a subtle peek, finding that she has a peg leg made of steel and wood. “Not bad, right?”

“Yeah, nice hardware.” You match her smile. Suddenly getting an idea, you rummage through your bag, finding the jar of ointment that could help ease the ache that she must be feeling. “Here, I've made extra a few days ago, it's for the pain from the prosthesis.”

Her eyes shine, slightly surprised by the gift. “Thank you, I appreciate that. I actually just ran out of these.” Opening the jar, she takes a sniff, chuckling at the familiar herb and menthol smell. “It's the same one, damn, thanks again.”

You feel Hobie's eyes on you, hand still gripping your thigh as you see him smile from your peripheral.

“No problem, take it as payment for letting us use your cart and horse.”

Riri leans against the shelf filled with liquor, hands rolling the jar around her palms. “Well, you surprised me, duchess. I haven't even let you use it, but since you're so nice.”

“Thank you, gorgeous!” Yuri exclaims, you have no idea if she's thanking you or Riri. She's probably already drunk after her fifth pint. “I'll drive.”

A collective “No!” Echoes out while James grabs Yuri by her arm.

—

You decide to wait outside the fence’s place while Hobie and the rest haggle their way into wealth. It took another ask for Hobie if you're alright with them selling things from the ship, to which you said yes once again. You're waiting by the horse, a big guy named Stark, who likes apples as he munches on the one you gave to him, courtesy of the fruit stall next door.

The ride to the other end of the island was rough, you had to go through the shambles and end up literally at the tail end of the island. With the roads being made of blemished cobbled stone, you can still feel your brain bouncing around your head. But you don't mind the view as the sea is spread in front of you in all its primordial beauty.

The island reminds you of the one you and Hobie were stuck in, with its white sand and lush greenery— the Mermaid's head is almost identical to it. It's just missing the waterfalls where you learned how to swim and the empty graves. Maybe not all of it were good memories. You exhale out the memory, hand rubbing along the scars on your palm.

Slightly further on your right, you see the twin island that's connected by a rope bridge. The shipwreck above it has you asking questions on what it is or how it ended up there in the first place. But as you see shadows up in the trees and the broken down bow, you look away, afraid that you might've seen some island god protecting the haunted shipwreck.

As you run your thumb across your necklace, you spot the same mustachioed man walking towards you.

“Not a good time, trust me.” You stop him in his tracks.

“But captain Brown is being summoned—”

“I know, and he's haggling to the death in there, you don't want to interrupt him.” Taking a bite of your apple, you shoo him away as politely as you can. Hobie's charismatic smirk that you saw through the window still has your legs wobbly. “Maybe come back later.”

The man shifts his feet, staring at the building behind you. Stark neighs beside you, huffing as he smells the apple in your hand. After a while of looking, the stranger clicks his tongue and leaves.

With a scoff, you turn around to feed the remainder of your apple to Stark, but as you give it to him, you see the same old man from the docks staring at you. He hides behind the fruit stall, white eyes shining and skin blanched as if he's looking at a ghost.

“Can I help you?” You ask, hand right on the pommel of your sword. The man scurries away once you ask him.

The doors open loudly, and the bloodsail pirates exit out with wide grins and cheering as Hobie walks out with a victorious smile.

“I'll take it that you got a high price—oof!” You're quickly met with his arms embracing you, twirling you around until you're a giggling mess. “Hobie!”

He peppers your face with kisses, and the rest of the crew makes gagging sounds as they climb up the cart, probably excited to spend their coin. And yet he ignores them, excitedly clutching you.

With your feet back on solid ground, he takes one final kiss on your cheek before settling for holding your hands. “Gwen and Pav still need to crunch the numbers but it looks like we got enough for the ship, payment for the new crew, and everyone's take. The old bloke said that he hasn't seen that kind of loot since he moved from the east.”

You let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding. “That's good. Really good.” Hugging him, he squeezes you back until you're the one to pull away.

“We need to find you new shoes, love.”

“With that kind of money maybe we can get everyone new shoes.”

Hobie pats your cheek, “aye, maybe we can.”

“Let's just go!” Yuri drunkenly thumps her foot against the floor of the cart. “I'm hungry!”

“Let's go before she eats the horse.” Stark kicks, huffing at Hobie's words as if he understood it. He helps you up on the driver's seat before he hauls himself over beside you. With a gentle whip of the reins, Stark trots back towards the tavern.

“The guy was back by the way, still looking for you.” The uneven road rattles your entire body. You look over your shoulder to check on the crew, finding that Yuri is dozing off on James' shoulder while he's also falling asleep. Gwen chats with Pavitr, all the while holding Miles’ hand as he juggles her hand while scribbling on his notebook. You smile at them before turning back towards Hobie. “And should I tell you about this weird old man who's stalking me?”

“What?” Hobie's head cranes quickly to look at you. “Who's stalkin’ you?”

You shrug, “I don't know, Gwen said he might just be some old pirate who has gone sea crazy.”

“Still, you can never be too careful.” Taking your hand, he weaves his fingers around yours as he continues to lead the cart along the road. “Tell me if he pops out again, yeah?”

“Give him a stern talking to, captain?” Resting your chin on his shoulder, he smiles at you while the mid-day sun shines on the side of his face.

“Aye, get him to leave you the fuck alone.” He noses the side of your cheek. “‘sides, an old pirate is still a pirate, they still know the tricks. You don't get that old in this life without knowin’ how to wield a weapon.”

“My hero.” You whisper right in his ear, blowing air as he chuckles, and goosebumps appear on his skin. “I'm sure I can handle an old man, Hobie.”

“I know you can, lovie, but let me know, yeah? I'll help you.”

“Thank you, I will.” Kissing his cheek, you lean against him amidst the lull of the ride towards the docks.

—

“Alright.” Gwen sighs, stretching her hands and the clinking of coins cease. The opened ledger in front of her is filled with calculations. Pavitr hides the abacus inside a drawer, probably never wanting to see it ever again. “I know Pav and I are right so,” she gives you and Hobie a big grin across the captain's table. “Here’s your cut, doc, cap.” She hands you and Hobie a bag of coins each.

You try not to show your excitement, but it's prevalent when you jiggle the pouch in your hand with giddiness. Hobie nods at Gwen and Pav, thanking them with a grin.

The sun is setting right outside the Osprey, pink and orange hues perfectly aligning with the large windows of the captain's quarters and drenching the whole room in the same shade. Hobie pushes Gwen's and Pavitr's share of the loot. And the two can't hide their equal exhilaration either.

Pavitr laughs, akin to a giggle as he shakes his pouch together with yours, making a tune. “I'm going to buy so much chai to share with everyone!” His soft locks bounce as he leaves the room without missing a beat, probably heading towards the market to spend his coin.

“Watch out for pickpockets!” Your voice calls after him, and he answers with a muffled ‘I will!’ You take a peek inside the pouch, not really counting it since you trust Gwen and Pavitr's calculations, but you look at it nonetheless and your eyes widen at the pile of coins. “This is so much!” Gasping out and kicking your legs about, Hobie gazes at you with endearment as he pockets his share.

Gwen does the same, tucking it safely inside her vest. “It's not much, really.” She shrugs, finding your giddy smile contagious. “Since we mostly set aside the coin for renovation and maintenance of the ship.”

“This isn't a lot?!” Chuckling, you dig your hand inside, feeling the cool metal around your fingertips. You've never had this much coin in your whole life, the closest you got was when Gwen handed you some once upon a time. Remembering your debt, you take out a handful and hand it to a confused quartermaster.

“What's this?”

“For the coins you gave me before.” You shake the pile in your palm. “I told you I'd pay you back.” Hobie's grey eyes stare at the two of you with fondness, watching the interaction with a soft smile.

“And I told you that you don't have to.” She pushes your hand away but you push back. “Doc.” Warning you, she raises a pierced brow. “It's yours, go buy something nice. You earned it.”

“This is plenty, Gwen. Besides, you've got your dad, treat him to lunch at a tavern.” Your determined eyes has Gwen sighing.

“You won't be able to sleep if I don't take this, huh?”

“Nope!” You grin as she opens her palms and you dump the coins on them. “Thank you, Miss Stacy.” Your teasing lilt makes Gwen roll her eyes with a subtle smile.

“Sure,” she pushes the captain's chair away from the table, the carved eagle moving back as the light grazes its wood. “I'll give everyone's share, make sure you lock the rest in the safe, Hobie.” Gathering the pile of coin pouches, she leaves the room with an armful of clinking coins.

“Yeah, yeah.” Hobie fights a yawn, standing up from his seat to hide the rest of the money away from a hidden safe tucked underneath the bed. Right where a string of laurels and violets are etched on the wood. You discovered it after accidentally hitting it with your toe during a lively night with Hobie. “D’you want to go to the market with me, lovie?” He asks, hauling an armful towards the hiding spot.

“How could I say no to that?” Standing up and taking the rest of the coins, you follow right behind him as he kneels down and opens the secret compartment with a click on the bulb of a violet flower.

Hobie hides his smile while he's placing the bags inside the compartment. “Good, I'll buy you those shoes I've been meanin’ to get you.” His voice is muffled, body half inside the safe.

“As long as it's not gaudy like the one Miguel got me.” Sitting down beside him, head leaning on the bed, you hear a muffled scoff.

“I've got better taste than O’Hara.” Hobie wiggles himself out, taking the bags of coins in your arms. “‘sides, we can make a day out of it, show you around the place.” He gets inside once more, and you hear shuffling and coins clinking.

“Did you grow up here?”

“Nah,” he sniffs, probably dusty inside. “‘m from the mainland jus’ like Miles and Pav.”

“How'd you even manage to get here then?” Your fingers play with the frayed edges of your trousers nervously.

You haven't asked him much about his past before he became a pirate, most of the stories he told you were all swashbuckling adventures in the sea. None of which were of his childhood, or his blood family. It alienates you slightly since he knows everything about you, your story, your family, but nothing on his side. All you know is that he's an orphan, raised together with Miles and Pav, bouncing from orphanage to orphanage. And that he met the rest of the crew on the way. In the end he found his family, that you know, but you're a curious one, and you love him for everything that he is, even his past that he so clearly guards away and seals deep inside.

“Stole a ship,” he groans as he scooches himself out. “A merchant one, then sailed ‘ere with the original crew while tryin’ to find if this place really exists. We found out quickly that it was when they shot right at us.” As he exits the hidey hole, his bandana is lopsided with dust clinging on his chin and eyebrow. You giggle at his appearance. “What? Is us gettin’ shot funny, love?” Teasing, he nudges your leg with his foot.

“No, it's horrible.” You say, still laughing. As you pluck out the dust bunnies away from his face, he gazes at you sweetly. “You just look adorable, captain.” Your breath fans his cheeks as you reach up to fix his bandana. “There, still cute but a lot more captain-like.”

Without warning, Hobie grabs you by the waist, tackling you on the floor as you let out a surprised screech. His hand protects the back of your head, ever prepared to shield you from harm.

“Hobie! What are you doing?” You smack his behind as he nuzzles the crook of your neck. “I thought we were going to the market together?” Your voice lilts, a giddy one that exudes excitement. His knee separates your legs, arms woven around you as he kisses your searing skin.

“The market can wait.” He lifts himself up by the waist, voice deep and saccharine. Shrugging off his vest before cupping your face and squishing your cheeks together while you look up at him with shining eyes and a lopsided grin. “‘sides, they never close. We've got all the time in the world now, lovie.” The sky paints him pink as he leans down.

—

Hobie was right, the Mermaid's head never sleeps. It's well past supper when you went to the market with him. The place is noisy and as bustling as it was when you and the crew passed by earlier on your way to the tavern. Shopkeepers call on you like seagulls fighting for a crumb of hardtack. Their stalls are either shining or edible. A pile of locket watches tick in one of the stalls, too many to count, mostly etched with different initials and the navy sigil. Another stall has different sizes of compasses in all the colours of the rainbow. Next to it is a larger stall that houses telescopes that you can see every pirate owning.

On your right is a cobbler's shop where you got your new pair after almost thirty minutes of haggling from Hobie. You can't lie though, that was entertaining especially when he flashed the old saleslady his most charming smile and told tales of his grand adventure with the bloodsail pirates. In the end she gave you a huge discount on the boots and even threw in new socks for you and Hobie for free. He's too good at haggling while you can barely decide what to buy with your newly acquired wealth.

Above you, the exotic birds fly about, squeaking and squawking about the canopy that shields most of the place from the heat in the morning and the cold at night. There are strands of fishnets draped above and under the canopy. Hobie said it's for a tactical reason and not just for aesthetics with its hanging charms chiming about in the breeze. He once told you that the navy tried to ‘liberate’ the Mermaid's head, but the force of everyone combined helped defend and keep the twin islands. The fishnets above are actually made of tougher material, capable of stopping a cannon ball or even a trebuchet from dropping on the town. The marks of the battle are still lingering on the walls of the place, dents on the stone walls, chimneys blasted in half and bullet holes on doors and windows. You can just imagine how it all went, you asked Hobie, but he said it was before his time.

The moon brings dappled silver light upon the noisy market while the lamps swing around their perches and the shopkeepers yell their pitches at you like they're trying to sell you air. You could get used to this, the hustle and bustle of the place, it reminds you of the town you used to live in with Jess. That reminded you how much you missed that life, but you're satisfied where you are now, beside him as he unabashedly holds your hand while strolling the market.

“Pretty pretty lady!” You hear a loud squawk on your left and you're stopped in your tracks. “Got you, got you!” A parrot, yes a parrot with its yellow and orange feathers speak to you in its high pitched mimicking tone. “Shells for the pretty pretty lady?” It asks, seemingly manning the whole stall by its birdy lonesome while it's perched on a stool.

“Holy shit!” You laugh, and Hobie mirrors your smile. “Do you see this?” Pointing at the parrot, Hobie nods, bringing your hand down.

“Careful, don't point or it might bite you.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “A talking bird, and here I thought I've seen everything.”

“Buy something something?” It tilts its head, beak opening and closing.

“Oh I might buy something something just because I love you.” Giggling and cooing, you peruse the parrot's wares. There must've been a hundred multicoloured shells laying neatly on the stall. Some are as big as your face, and miniature ones that are as big as the pad of your finger. You ooh and ahh at each piece, grabbing the big one and placing it right on the shell of your ear to listen to the sea.

Hobie wishes he could capture the moment, the giddy smile, the glimmering childlike wonder in your eyes. Where's Miles and his drawing skills when you need him?

“D’you want that one, lovie?”

“Shh.”

“Don't shush me.” Hobie chuckles, feigning offense. “What's the sea tellin' you?”

“I don't know because you're too noisy.” You fake a glare at him, earning a pinch to your side. “Wait, it's telling me…” he pauses, awaiting your next words. “...that it's too expensive.” You turn the shell and show him the hefty price tag.

Hobie laughs wholeheartedly, shaking his head at you. “Fuck off, c’mon we need to buy you a dagger.”

“In a minute, I need to look at the rest. They're so pretty.” You're mesmerized by the shiny surfaces.

“Don't get swindled.” He whispers to you, afraid that the parrot will lunge at him and claw his eyes out.

“I won't get swindled.” You wave him off, eyeing a pair of earrings made out of shells that might suit Yuri or Lyla.

Hobie grabs your head gently and kisses your temple. And the parrot squeeks out a ‘smitten! Smitten!’ that he chuckles at when the bird is right. “I'll be at the blacksmith, love, be back ‘ere in five, yeah? Don't leave the market without me.”

Meeting with his grey eyes that have softened to a pretty silver pair, you smile at him. “I'll be fine, Hobie.” You pat the cutlass on your hip. “Besides, I have to buy stuff for the crew so take your time. I'll meet you at the blacksmith.”

“I don't want to leave you too long with these scallywags.”

“Hey! Hey!” The bird squawks out in offense.

“I'm sorry that you have to hear the news from me but, you're a scallywag too, Hobie.” Giggling, you pat his chest lovingly, the marks you left still evident on his neck as you hide it by fixing his collar.

He scrunches his nose at you, and you pinch his nose in reply. You two must look like a couple of honeymooners in front of the other pirates. It seems like Hobie has thrown his reputation as the fearsome red spider behind his back in favour of holding you sweetly and brazenly in public.

Smiling, he squeezes your arm before reluctantly leaving your side. “I'll be back, the blacksmith is jus’ around the corner of the apothecary.”

“There's an apothecary here?!” Your excited exclamation barely gets people's attention. You're starting to love this place, especially when everyone minds their own business.

“Don't spend all your money.” He says, walking backwards with his hands inside his pockets while he looks at you sweetly.

“It's going to be hard, but I'll try.” You wave goodbye as the captain walks into the crowd and disappears in the sea of leather and tricorns.

“So, Mr. Parrot, how much for the earrings?” You eye the bird, maybe if you practice your haggling skills on him you'll get better the next time you make your purchase with a human salesperson.

“Poor! Poor!” It squawks out, dancing about his perch.

“Hey!” Maybe if you slyly pocket the jewellery it won't notice. But his beady eyes look like it can see through you as he flaps his wings at you. “Fine, I'll buy it.” The awful bird looks like he's satisfied, maybe that was his plan all along.

—

With your bag filled with purchases, a scrapbook and a new charcoal pencil for Miles. A new flavour of tea that Pavitr might like, and you even managed to find a jar of coconut oil for him. The shell earrings for Yuri and Lyla, which you only managed to get a pair since the bloody parrot was a tough one and didn't even let the price drop to a single coin. So they have to share each one, you guess. For Gwen you found a pair of pink ballet shoes tucked inside an antique store filled with bits and bobs you don't even recognise. The shoes don't look like they could be danced in, but it looks decent enough to be worn. You hope she likes it, but your doubts made you buy a pair of shears to help cut her hair that she's been annoyed about recently, just in case she ends up hating the ballet shoes. Even James got a new leather belt to replace the makeshift rope belt that he uses. All in all, they're all good purchases. Your coin pouch might weigh less now but you're happy that you got your family something as thanks for everything they've done for you.

You love them, and the things you bought can't compare to the amount of love you have for them.

Now onto Hobie's gift, one that you've planned on for weeks now. The silver spoon clinks against the jar of coconut oil as you practically skip around the apothecary that you took a quick peek at their window. Maybe you'll check it out sometime since you still have money to burn.

You spot the mustachioed man before you could stop Hobie from pushing the stranger away with his whole palm against the man's face. Your new boots thump against the rocky road as you quickly pass by people to get to him. Leg aching, you're starting to worry about an ensuing fight.

“I told you like before, fuckin' later.” Hobie gruffly says, sounding mad more than annoyed. “And tell Thorpe that—” He spots your concerned face from the crowd before you get to his side.

“You alright?” You ask, hand gravitating towards his bicep. “Come on, let's just leave.” Tugging him away, the stranger glares at Hobie, which he doesn't appreciate. “Hobie, come on, it's late.” The heat from the blacksmith’s fire sears your cheeks.

Hobie stands tall, eyeing the man, as if he's egging him on to take out his gun.

“Hobie!” You shake him.

The man scoffs, smirking, reminding you of a certain navy captain. “Listen to your girl, Brown—”

Your gun is raised and aimed at the man. Hand not even shaking as you look at him over the barrel of your blunderbuss. “Don't fucking test us. Leave.”

Hobie's eyes briefly widen before those stormy grey eyes flick towards the surprised stranger. “Trust me, mate, she will shoot.”

The whole marketplace seems to go at a stand still.

“Thorpe will hear about this!” He stomps his foot, moustache swaying side to side as he leaves and fades into the crowd.

You don't lower your gun until you can't see the man's red hair. Hobie slowly takes your arm, bringing your shooting hand down to your side as he shields you from where the stranger was.

“You good, scuttlebutt?” Cupping your cheek, you sigh and lean against his touch. Adrenaline rushing through your veins.

“I'm good, yeah.” You sigh, turning to look at the blacksmith before she shifts her eyes away from you, so does the half of the market. “Let's go home.” You don't even have the energy to ask him who Thorpe is.

“C’mon, the crew's waitin'.” Hobie weaves his fingers around your own, guiding you around the market.

—

“Hey, fucking finally!” Lyla exclaims from the deck, munching on a pastry. “They're here!” A rush of footsteps walk towards the railings while you and Hobie sluggishly climb up the ramp. “We thought you got into some trouble.”

“Sort of.” You sigh out, leg aching as you stretch it in front of you while leaning against the railing. Maybe you still need to break in the new shoes.

Hobie notices, helping you sit on a crate. “Thorpe really wants my arse.”

“Who’s Thorpe?” George asks, a question that you've been meaning to ask yourself.

“He's part of the pirate council here.” Gwen answers for Hobie while he's busy kneading your back.

“There's a fucking pirate council?” You gasp out, half annoyed, half surprised. “Why? I thought this place doesn't have rules—” Yuri opens her mouth. “— beside the pirate code.” She shuts her mouth. “Sounds like you have to meet with him, Hobie.” You look up at him, only to find that his brows are furrowed together with worry. Hand finding his own, you squeeze him.

“We have to meet him.” Miles says, leaning on the railing beside Gwen. “We got summoned too.” He gestures towards the original crew.

“Fucker.” Hobie curses under his breath.

“That guy scares me.” James adds, arms crossed over his chest.

“You and me both, buddy.” Yuri clasps his shoulder.

“What do you think he wants, Hobie?” Pavitr asks worriedly, hands wringing around his bangle. “Is it because of—”

“Hobart Brown!”

Hobie grimaces, and everyone runs towards the railings to see the source of the voice. You look over and see the same moustache. This time though, he brought cavalry.

“What?! Only my own crew can call me that!” Hobie yells, sensing the oncoming danger as he unconsciously shields you with his body.

“Captain Thorpe ‘tide turner’ Heinrick has summoned you and your crew.” The familiar click of muskets echo around the docks. “And the bloody duchess!”

“Motherfucker!” You stand up, peeking over Hobie's arm. “Why?!”

“You pointed a gun at me!”

“Fair enough.” You muffledly say, hand inching towards your blunderbuss. “Why don't you come up here and—”

“No, we know your tactics! You used that on Bradshaw but it's not gonna work here!” The mustache man yells back. “Come down here and talk! The captain just wants to see you!”

“How ‘bout we reschedule?” Hobie flashes his negotiating smile. “It’s late and maybe we could—”

“No!” The whole gang on the docks aim higher at your heads. “He wants to see you now!”

“No need to scream, fuck.” Hobie whispers, hand brushing along your back before putting his hands on the side of his head. “Alright, we're comin’, don't get your knickers in a bunch.”

The rest of the crew follows, and one nod at Lyla from you has her understanding what you meant as she grabs George's bicep, pulling him back on deck. The man tries to argue but Lyla whispers something at him that has him reluctantly agreeing.

Once on the dock, Hobie gets closer to the man casually even when the barrel kisses his chest. Your heart leaps, afraid while your instincts tell you to fight and shield him.

“Don't worry, he won't shoot.” Hobie waves back to the crew, sensing yours and their concern for the captain. “Thorpe loves me too much.”

A sudden metallic clang echoes on the far side of the docks, where another commotion is happening. You gotta hand it to the Mermaid's head, there's no dull moment.

“C’mon, we're all yours.” Hobie sneers. “Where to?”

As you turn towards the louder commotion happening, you spot a pair of familiar faces getting hauled off a ship. Their eyes strike a memory to you, green and blue, different but a mirror of the other. An apple scented air, cracked hazelnuts in your palms while you wait with them by a dark lake. And birds, hundreds of migrating birds flying out of the trees after yelling obscenities at them.

“Cousins!” You yell, quickly running towards them before Collette's face gets a fistfull from a pirate. “Collette, Jonathan!”

Hobie takes the opportunity to exact chaos.

[isabeauwolf]

Trafalgar Law x Pregnant reader

💛 Chapter 1 💛 Chapter 3

Chapter 2 - Somebody call a doctor?

"Could you be my doctor?" Jess snickers over the phone. She called you as soon as she got home. "Really Y/n?" She cackled even harder. "Girl, you want Dr Grumpy to be more than your personal doctor." Pausing for dramatic effect and adding, "You want his daily dose of vitamin D sooo bad."

You knew she had that smug assed grin on her face as you rubbed your forehead. You knew she was right which made you even more flustered and embarrassed. "I know, I know, Jess." You groaned, "I wasn't thinking and it slipped out."

"You are way too cute for your own good." She commented. "You do know that right?"

"So I've been told." You muttered, laying down on your bed and hugging your snow leopard Build-a-Bear. It was an impulse buy you bought yourself for Christmas. It reminded you of Law every time you saw it and held it, wishing it was him.

"Do you need me to go with you to get your first ultrasound?" Jess asked, pulling out her pajamas from her closet

"Nah, be fine." You replied. "Plus Law will be with me."

"Let me know," Jess pressed. "Max considers you family." Max was Jess' big brother and owner of the coffee shop. The pair of siblings thought of you as their own baby sister, even if Jess was a year younger than you.

"Yeah, I know." You smile, "Thanks." You roll onto your side, facing the door.

You hear the tiny pitter patter of tiny feet running through the house and jingle coming towards you as Onigiri comes rushing into your room like a tiny rocket.

You laugh. "Somebody's missed me." You pat the spot beside your bed. "Hey baby, c'mere."

Onigiri. The tiny puppy with pure white fur and a huge black shaped triangle on his head, reminding you of rice balls.

And somehow of Law.

He runs around in a circle and jumps into your bed, barking and nuzzles into your side. Panting as his tail wags.

"I missed you too, my little cutie." You coo gently, petting him as he crawls underneath your blanket and cuddles against your belly.

Well, guess that explains why Onigiri seems glued to your side lately. Animals have a sixth sense of these things or so you've heard.

"Awe, lemme see, lemme see." Jess gushes into your ear, using her baby voice.

"Hold on, hold on." You turn on the camera to face yourself and angle your phone down so Jess can see the picture perfect sight. "There. Can you see him?"

Jess squealed, taking screenshots. "Looks like Dr Love's got some real competition for your love Y/n." She teases, grinning wide. "Onigiri and your mini me. Talk about a handful." Tilting her head, "Hope Doc isn't the jealous type."

"Why do you like to tease the poor man so much?" You ask, laying back down and petting Onigiri. "Are you sure you don't have a bully crush on Law?" You knew she didn't but you had to tease her back, biting your lip to stay composed.

It didn't work, you snorted as Jess grew defensive. Gawking at you and grimacing as if you just drop kicked her grandmother.

"What?! Hell no. Mister tall dark and emo drug lord ain't my type." Jess makes fake gagging noises, which causes you to giggle louder. "Besides, I like'em big and dumb."

"Bepo isn't Law's second in command for nothing you know." You pointed out, laying your head underneath the crook of your arm.

"Oh, you know what I mean " Jess waves you off. "He's so sweet, adorable and knows material arts, loyal, really, really tall." She sighs dreamily, falling into her bed. "Blonde hair, blue eyes... so shy."

"God help that poor, poor man." You give her a dramatic sigh and make the sign of the cross over your heart, "Corrupting poor Bepo's innocence and cuteness with your overly horny witch craft and voodoo magic. Jess for shame."

"Oh hell yes, I would!" Jess fires back. "Don't you judge me after pinning for drop dead gorgeous Dr Heart Stealer Y/n." She points her finger at you, setting her phone into her bed and pulls her shirt over her head, leaving her in her cute purple lacy bra. "I would bet two hundred beri's.. no five hundred that you've had as many sinful, dirty thoughts and wet dreams for Law as I've had for my bear man."

You grew heated. "Fair enough." You couldn't deny it.

"I'll take your silence as a yes." Jess countered in a single song voice, slipping into an adult panda man onesie and fell back into her pile of panda and polar bear stuffed animals. "I'm home my babies." She scoops an armful and cuddles them, smiling wide.

You were honestly thinking you both had a taste in odd men.

Then again, being stuck in the winter island all your lives does make the world feel smaller.

"Alright, I'm going to bed." You yawn, rubbing your eyes and turn your lamp off on your nightstand.

"Night night, love ya." Jess blows you a kiss. "Give me the details tomorrow sexy mama."

You laugh, smiling. "Night, Jess."

You both hung up.

You peaked underneath you blanket to find Onigiri fast asleep, "Night, Onigiri." You whisper softly and layed back down, hugging your snow leopard closer to your chest as you unlocked your phone, thumb hovering over Law's name.

You knew you'd see him tomorrow, and yet, you couldn't help but feel nervous. Seriously, why did you ask your crush to become your doctor? Were you that desperate? At least, he didn't flat out call you an idiot to your face when you gave him a heart attack this evening.

Law's question rang through your mind.

Are you going to put the baby up for adoption?

Sure, it would be the responsible and logical thing to do. You didn't make enough to have a baby right now. You were barely scrapping by as it is. You did have some saving saved up for a rainy day. You had heard of couples try to conceive for years and were unable to, waiting for a miracle that never came. It would feel nice to help someone like that, but the real question was: Could you?

You were honestly surprised Law would agree to seeing you so easily. Surely, he was busy and had enough on his plate as it is.

You felt your lips curl upward.

Maybe the stoic, ice cold and straight laced doctor had a kind heart?

Taking a deep breath you decided to message Law first, nicknaming him "Snow Leopard" in your phone.

You: Good evening Law, thank you for talking with me tonight. I appreciate it. I'm going to bed now. I'll see you in the morning. Good night. :)

Three dots appeared when he messaged you back.

Snow Leopard: It was no problem at all, Y/n-ya. I was the one who offered in the first place. I am glad that you felt you could confide in me.

Good night and sleep well.

Your smile brightened as you set your phone down on the nightstand. "Good night, Law." You closed your eyes as your heart fluttered in your chest and went to sleep.

On the other side, Law sat down in his reading chair after taking off his reading glasses and the book he was reading, sitting in his lap. His phone in hand as he sighed and rubbed his forehead with the back of his palm.

He frowned look down at the message you sent. The pregnancy test you showed him was positive, but you still needed to be seen for a medical checking up and ultrasound. If you wanted him to be your primarily care doctor, he'd do it. He'd support you, offer medical advice, anything within his power and knowledge to help you.

Law set his glasses on the coffee table, put a bookmark in the book as he was reviewing and revising any material he had on pregnancy, labor and child birth on his selves.

He'd seem you around kids. You were always so kind, offering other pregnant woman a helping hand to the door or to watch their little ones while their mothers had to use the restroom or take a call.

He knew you would make a great mother someday.

He didn't expect for it to happen so soon and with someone else, even a one night stand. The tiny, microscopic percentage that you would get pregnant while using both forms of birth control wasn't unheard of, but the odds were their.

He wasn't aware that you were looking for a casual partner or hookup. He might have offered, if he'd known. Then again, he didn't ask and you hadn't brought it up.

Out of all the men on who came passing through this winter island, it had to be Ace. Luffy's big brother.

Law had Ace's number, knew it wasn't his place to inform the man that you were pregnant, it would be immoral and against doctor and patient confidentiality.

A tiny part of him hoped you didn't have any lingering feeling for the man.

The more he thought about it, the more his feelings he'd bottled up were festering. Jealousy, heartache and longing, to name a few.

Law never wanted you to think he was using his medical practice to coax you into anything you didn't want to do. Or for selfish reasons.

Setting the medical book down on top of the books he had littered and spread outs onto the coffee table. He glanced at it and decided to leave them and would pick everything up in the morning. He stretched and stood to his feet, turned the light off and figured he needed to shower and go to bed.

Law layed in bed, in the dark and stared at the ceiling. His hands tightened around the blanket, then relaxed. It felt dumb to be nervous about tomorrow, he's seen hundreds of patients, so why should tomorrow be any different? Scratch that. He knew why. It was you coming into his office, his new patient.

He scowled at the darkness, rolling onto his side, layed his arm underneath his pillow and slowly took in a deep breath and huffed it through his nose. Reaching for his phone, turning his head as to not blind himself when the screen lit up, glancing down at his lock screen of him and his adoptive father, Rosinante when Law graduated from medical school. Law felt himself smile as he unlocked it with the swipe of his thumb, oops, he forgot to close the text message with you.

He felt his cheeks burn in embarrassed as he backed out and returned to the home screen showing a picture of him, Bepo, Shachi, Penguin and Ikkaku during his uncle Doflamingo's annual Christmas party that Rosinante had taken last year.

Now, that he thought about it. It wasn't long after that he'd met you that night.

He had to rush back to the hospital for an emergency surgery on a patient, after working hours until the patient was stable Law had decided to grab a cup of coffee on the way home. He'd been exhausted, irritable after no sleep, he wasn't looking his best, if he was being honest.

Law had decided to walk down to the local coffee shop since the line in front of the hospital Moonbucks was jam packed and he didn't want to wait. So he went down the street, it was busy but quiet which surprised him. He noticed Bepo, Shachi and Penguin were waiting in line as well, then he remembered they'd mentioned the coffee shop had better service and a more cozy atmosphere. Something about the waitresses were cute and the owner was friendly.

Law didn't really care as long as the coffee wasn't too overpriced or tasted decent, or worse, tasted like watered down bean water. He didn't realize he'd been scowling until a feminine voice called his attention, making him return to reality.

"Long night, I take it?" You smile at him, tablet in hand, waiting patiently. Your hair was in a braid with tiny golden Christmas bells woven into it and you wore a black, blue and white sweater with polar bears wearing scarfs on them. "What can I get you?" You repeat gently.

Law's eyes widened, feeling his heart skip a beat and thud hard into his chest. Inwardly shaking himself and cleared his throat. "Medium dark roast, double shot espresso and cream, please." He felt his skin warm as he pulled out his wallet.

You type out his order, repeat it as he inserts his card. "Will that be all for today, doctor?"

Law's silver gaze met your own. "How did you know?"

Your smile widened, eyes lowering as you giggled. "You're still in uniform doctor."

What? No, he wasn't... Oh. Law glanced down at himself, he was so tired, he forgot to take off his surgical scrubs. Well, that's embarrassing. Thank God, he wasn't covered in blood. The surgeon felt his face grow redder as he covered his eyes with his spotted hat. "Oh, you're right." He muttered to himself, meeting your beautiful gems after typing in his pin and you handed him his receipt. "Thank you miss."

"Y/n." You correct, offering your hand. "Doctor?"

Law readjusted his hat, took your smaller hand in his own and shook it. "Trafalgar Law."

"That's a unique name Trafalgar." You tasted his name on your tongue, made him shudder. "I've never seen you around before. Are you new around here?"

"Law." He correct softly. "Trafalgar is my Last name." He didn't know why he felt the need to correct you, a stranger. He usually didn't care if anyone called him by his first or last name before.

You blushed as you lowered your hand. "Oh, I'm sorry." You cover your burning cheek, giving him a cute sheepish and apologetic smile. "I beg your pardon Law."

It felt right, hearing you call his name. He liked it.

"None taken, Y/n-ya." Law left his lips curl into a slight smirk causing your blush to deepen.

"Y/n-ya?" Your brows furrowed as you stared at him in curiosity. "Is that a strange habit of yours Law?" You lower your hand from your face and half turn, writing his name in a clear medium sized plastic cup. "Or is it how you usually greet people Law-ya?" You tease, eyes sparkling with a teasing lit.

Oh, you were spunky too?

Law's gaze flickered to your hand writing it was neat and cursive, pretty even. His smirk grew into something smug and playful, "Something like that." He commented returning his card into his wallet and back into the pocket of his coat.

"Thank you, Law. Your order will be right up." You fully turn, walking to the coffee machine to make his order.

His gaze lowered to your backside in those tight, stretchy black leggings and black boots. He felt himself swallowing, mesmerized by the sway of your hips before he shook himself, raising a hand to scrub his jaw as he glanced away.

Well, he was awake, flustered and horny now. Great, just what he needed.

Law shuffles awkwardly towards the pick up counter, waiting and pulling out his phone to distract himself when he feels someone sling an arm over his shoulder.

"Rough morning, Captain?" Shachi asked smiling.

"Rough night." Law grunts. "Some dumbass decided to fist fight Akainu and play with fire last night while drunk."

"Wow, seriously? On Christmas?" Bepo asks, appearing on the other side of Law.

"Who's that crazy enough to face that tight assed marine?" Penguins asks.

Law sighed, shaking Shachi off and pinched the bridge of his nose with his middle and index finger. "Monkey D Luffy, Garps grandson."

Bepo, Shachi and Penguin all parroted in shock, eyes wide. "Monkey D Garp has a grandson?!"

"Yes, apparently he's got three troublesome grandsons and Luffy, or StrawHat is one of them." Law admitted. "I talked with him and StrawHats mother last night in the waiting room. A reckless, stubborn kid was pissed off about Akainu insulting his older brothers."

"Law?" You called.

Law opened his eyes, lowered his hand and met your smiling face.

"Your order is ready." You lower his coffee onto the counter and scoot it towards him. "Careful, it's hot." You warned gently.

"Well, hello again gorgeous." Penguin purred.

"Captain, I didn't know you were hitting on this cutie." Shachi asked, wiggling his brows, covering his mouth to whisper into Law's pierced ear. "Go, cap. Did you get her number?"

"No, I'm not." Law bit out, gritting his teeth. "And get off." He shrugged him off, stepping forward to pick up his drink. His face softened as he sighed, already feeling mentally drained. "Thank you, Y/n-ya."

"Your welcome, Law." You replied, smile widening as you waved goodbye. "Have a good day and hope to see you again soon."

Law'a lips curled as he plugged his phone onto the charger and layed it down beside him. It figures that it quickly became a habit for him to have coffee at Max's shop from then onward. He had to see you again, even if, he wouldn't admit it at the time. Whenever Law was stressed or down, he thought of you and your smiling face.

Closing his eyes as he whispered gently, "Night, Y/n."

---------

You arrived way too early. At seven in the morning. Folder in hand with all of your important paperwork and your purse as you walked into the hospital and towards the receptionist who greeted you with a practiced perfect smile.

"How many I help you?"

"Did Doctor Trafalgar Law schedule me an appointment for an ultrasound and blood work?" You asked, feelings your cheeks heat up. It would be super embarrassing, if he had forgotten.

She raised a brow. "I'll check." Her eyes returning to her computer, hands hovering over the keyboard. "Name?"

You give her your first and last name.

"Yes, Doctor Law has you scheduled in." She picked up a clip board and handed it to you. "Fill these out please and he'll call you shortly." Her gaze scanning you up and down.

Why do you feel as if she's low key judging you?

"Thank you." You smiled back, picked a seat and sat down. Opening your folder and wallet, writing down your information. You were on the last page when some walked through the door and called your name.

"Y/n L/n?"

You raised you head, smiling widening as you gathered your things and stood.

It was Bepo. The giant man was dress in bright orange scrubs.

"Bepo!" You walked towards him. You ignored the receptionist stare on your back. "It's great to see you."

Bepo leaned down and hugged you, gently. "Garchu, Y/n!" The giant blonde man nuzzled the top of your head in affection. "Law told me you would be here this morning, but he didn't say what for." He pulled away, frowning in worry. "Are you alright?"

You forgot that Bepo was a huger. "Garchu Bepo." You laughed, hugging him back. "I'm fine. Just need to run a few tests." Well, you weren't wrong.

"Don't be nervous." Bepo holds the door open for you and let you in first before leading the way with his own clip board in hand. "First we will do a standard physical and then Law will be with you shortly." Glancing down at the clipboard in your hand he smiled, "I'll take that for you when you are finished."

True to his word, Bepo took your height and weight, standard physical. Gave you a plastic cup with your name on it and asked you to use the bathroom across the hallway to pee in a cup.

It always felt awkward peeing in one of those tiny plastic cups. You were lightly haunted the one time you had to use one during a standard drug test and your were on your period. That was embarrassing as you had handed it to the guy with a huge blush on your face.

Shaking your head you took the cup, did your business, washed your hands and very carefully watched back to the nurses station to hand her the full cup.

She thanked you and took the sample with a gloved hand and put it in a ziplock bag.

You made a beeline towards the room you were in to finished your paperwork. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think about it!

You placed the clipboard onto the desk when you heard someone knock.

"Y/n-ya?" Law's voiced called behind the door. "May I come in?"

"Yes, Law you may." You giggle. You really couldn't help it. You walked back towards your seat.

Law opened the door and walked in, a brow raised. "Someone slept well, if you are this spunky in the morning."

You try to ignore how incredible-y hot Law looks in his glasses, lab coat and the stethoscope around his neck. Not to mention, the black button down he's wearing with a few of the buttons unbuttoned and his sleeves roll half up his arms. Jesus, did he not care about the hospital dress code?

You swallow, stealing a glance at his tattoos, not to mention the hint of muscle peaking though. Oh, how you wanted to trace the hidden pattern of ink with your fingers or tongue. Inwardly telling yourself to shut up you answered, "Something like that."

Closing the door behind him, Law went towards the sink to wash his hands, dry them and slip on a pair of latex gloves. "Other than yesterdays vomiting. Are you showing any other symptoms of pregnancy? Anything you can think of or might have missed?"

You hum, counting off your fingers. "My period being two weeks late, having to go to the bathroom more often, I have this weird craving for bbq and having cramps, but no period.... that's about it."

"Everything seems normal." He concluded, picking up your paperwork and skimming through it. "Do you remember what set off your nausea?"

"Yeah, pickles from Max's sandwich which sucks." You pout. "I love pickles."

Law glanced up and opened his mouth to say something when there was another knock on the door.

"Come in." Law answered without peaking over his shoulder.

"I'm coming to collect Y/n's paperwork and to give her this gown to change into." Bepo replied sheepishly, "Sorry." The poor man got easily discouraged and depressed.

"It's fine, Bepo." Law waved him off, handing him the clipboard, taking the blue dressing gown from Bepo and handing it off to you before he stood. "I'll let you change while I wait outside."

"Thank you again, Law." You smile causing the doctor to pause.

"Your welcome, Y/n-ya." Law gave a hint of smile then closed the door behind him.

You released the breath that you didn't know you were holding. Just think of this as a regular doctors visit, Y/n. Don't make it weird. Law's not here to be ogled and drooled after. You mentally scolded yourself, feeling yourself growing flustered. He's doing his job. Get those fantasies out of your head!

Ugh, why did Jess slip that stupid doctor romance novel into your email this morning?! You know she did it on purpose.

Didn't help that it had you hooked when you found out of the male lead was a grumpy doctor. Who had you immediately think of Dr Heart Stealer himself.

Folding your clothes into the chair beside you on top of your folder and purse. You felt yourself shiver from the cold air in the room when you were completely naked, except for your fuzzy socks. You knew it would look stupid, but you knew the floor would be cold if you took them off. So you slipped on the hospital gown. Uh oh. How were you going to tie the back, if you can't see what your doing?

Okay, think about it as a bigger apron. That's all it is, yup... nope. Dammit.

You jumped as your heard another knock on the door. "Yes?" You sat down in your seat, on the white crinkly thin assed sheet of paper they always put on these seats. You knew it was for sanitary reasons, but you always hoped you never tore it.

"Y/n-ya? Are you decent?" Law asked.

"I.. uh.. I might need some help." You admitted, mentally groaning. "Can you help me, please?"

Law opened the door. "What's the matter?"

You pout and half turn while completely covering your ass, yet you felt the cold air hit your back. "I can't seem to tie it."

"Is that all?" He chuckled, step forward and slipping on new medical gloves. "I can always ask a female nurse to-"

You cut him off. "It's really no bother, Law."

"Alright." Law nods, slowly approaching as you fully turned and moved your hair out of the way. The man towers over you, reaches out, his inked hand hesitates before he helps you tying the hospital gown closed. His skilled fingers move with practiced easy. Gaze flickering down to your skin, noticing the map of goosebumps, It's from the cold in the room, he tells himself, even if, he secretly wished it was from him having such an affect on you.

With your back completely bare before him and being unable to see his transfixed and greedy stare as his cheeks warm and his heartbeats and thunders hard in his ears. He'd love nothing more than to trail feathery light kisses or his inked digits along the nape of your neck, press you closer into his chest and cause a new litter of goosebumps to pebble and rise.

God, Law doesn't know what he wants to do more. Hold you, tease you, kiss you or all three? Was this a bad idea or mistake having you as his new patient? A cute distraction that he didn't need. A temptation to test his patience as he forced himself to not act on impulse or his intrusive thoughts? Swallowing thickly, he lowered his hands. "There." He backed away to give you space as to not intimidate you. Law hoped you didn't think he was being a creep with how long it look him to tie the damned gown closed.

You fully turn and smile at him. "Thanks, Law."

"Your welcome, Y/n-ya." He meets your beautiful eyes. Once again, he found himself checking impulse after impulse with you, ignoring the yearning he felt or simply reach out to cup your face to run his inked thumb along the apple of your cheek.

Your gaze lowered dreamily to his lips. Would he taste like mint and coffee? Cinnamon, or spearmint?

There was another knock on the door, causing reality to come crashing back down, washing away the sexual tension and raw, burning haze from you both.

Yes, he's The Doctor and you as his new Patient.

Law's jaw clenches. "What is it?" He calls without glancing away from you before half turning to fully glare at whoever the hell was behind that goddamn door.

The door opens, Penguin peaks his head through and smiling sheepishly. "Sorry to disturb you but uh.... the newbies in training and interns are growing bored." His gaze flickers to you, his face and eyes brighten, apologetic smile turning smug. Oh, that's why Captains been fidgeting and antsy since he clocked in at 5am, secretly passing his office.

Law's heated glare turned seething, clicking his tongue. "Can't they follow simple orders or expect me to hold their hands?" Slipping his gloves off and throwing them in the trash as he storms towards the door, pauses and glances back at you from over his shoulder. "Excuse me, Y/N-ya." His face and angered expression softened a smidge, noticeable, but there.

"Don't worry." You wave your hand in a shooing gesture. "I'll be right here. "Don't be too harsh on 'em Doctor Law." You giggle.

Law nods again, giving his back to you. His eyes darken and his long legs making quick strides in Penguin's direction who immediately backs away to give his friend and boss more room. His inked hand tightens around the handle, the metal groans as he swung the door open, his frame taking up the full space as he goes off. "What the hell are you lot stranding around for? This is a hospital. A place of medicine and healing, not an amusement park or get away."

You hear apologies flying, feet shuffling at Law's command as if he's God himself.

"Sorry Doctor!"

"Right away, Sir!"

"But I already finished my task."

"It's my break, Doc." Someone complained. "Been working since last night."

Law's jaw continues to clench and grind. "I don't want to hear excuses," he growls, causing all of them to take in their boss' demeanor. Sure, Law's a crabby, stick in the mud and can bark out harsh and cold comments, but... The Surgeon of Death looks more angry and close to snapping.

It's like he's a man possessed by the devil himself.

Bepo looks worried.

Penguin huddled closer to Shachi, whispering in his ear that you are here. The pairs shoulders shake, trying to keep in their snickers. "Caps, gone full territorial mode."

Of course, Law heard that. "What was that?" A tick mark formed on the corner of his forehead. "Are you volunteering for Clinic Duty this morning, Shachi?" He tilts his head, voice dripping in venom. "How kind of you. Now hop to it."

Penguin and Shachi flinch. Their eyes widening, meeting cold, liquid silvers.

"But Cap, it's Pen's turn.." Shachi correctly.

Law's eyes narrows. "Did I stutter?"

Shachi shuts up and followed orders.

Being left along, you were left with your thoughts and observing. You were reminded of seeing him in his blue scrubs the first night you two met.

Law seemed like the kind of angry and grumpy doctor who rarely smiled or glares and barks orders, a gorgeous asshole with a coffee addiction, clearly overworked and an insomniac.

It makes sense, that he's grouchy.

You will admit that you felt a spark rush through you when your eyes connected with his stormy, smoldering silver eyes. They're beautiful and overpowering.

You think that's the first time you've been Law's stoic mask crack into a murderous glower. Dare you say his angry expression was cute? Watching from a distance, he looked like a tiger stalking his pray, it should make you feel unnerved and scared.

You can't pull your gaze away from the scene.

Then again, this is the first time you've seen Law in his element, his work place and stomping ground. The growl and authority dripping from his deep voice causes your thighs to press together, his shoulders are tense as his inked hand tightens around the door frame, muscles flexing underneath his inked skin.

His demeanor is more intimating. His agitation vibrates through the chill in the air conditioned room, causing goosebumps to rise and spread across your skin and your nipples hardened as you bite your lower lip. Sweet mother and Christ, scold me and command me like that Doctor Law and I'm all yours. You feel your face grow inflamed as you mentally scold yourself again. Dammit, go away, naughty thoughts, go away! You yell inside your head and mentally waving your arms, growing more embarrassed. Stupid Jess! Stupid raunchy Doctor romance novel! I blame you!

Hearing the door close, your straighten your shoulders and try to act as if you weren't mentally arguing with yourself and thinking something kinky about your new, hot Doctor.

Law lowers his frame back into his seat, scooting it closer as the wheels roll across the tiled floor. He releases a huff, shoulders relaxing as he runs an inked hand through his dark, unruly tresses. "Apologies, Y/n." This close, you can see the faint dark circles underneath his eyes, become more pronounced as it brings out the color of his bewitching liquid metal orbs.

You swallow around the lump in your throat, mouth feels dry. "Can I have some water, please?"

"Of course," Law nods, standing to his feet, walks out to the nurses station and comes back with a chilled bottle of water. "Are you alright?" Offering you the water with a hint of concern in his voice.

"Yup, I'm fine." You take it and try to open it. Brows furrow as you try again. "What the hell?" Again, its not budging. "Did they glue this on or something?"

Law pressed his lips together to bite back a laugh. "Here, let me before you make a mess." He reaches out and gently, taking the plastic bottle into his hand, twisting it and like magic it opens with ease. Resealing it and handing it back to you, watching as you reach out and squeeze the offending plastic a bit too hard, not caring, if a few big, fat droplets fall and land on your thin hospital gown.

"What kind of bullshit is this?" You glare at the bottled water as you took a few gulps to quench your thirst. You blink, feeling yourself grow even more heated and re-screwing the cap. "Wow, these mood swings are seriously no joke. Oh, thank you by the way."

This time Law did laugh. "No problem, Y/n-ya." He cleared his throat while his shoulders shook as he grinned, it looks boyish and made him appear younger as he answered. "Loss of strength, hormonal changes, mood swings and fatigue are all normal during the first trimester."

"I can't exactly run to you every time I can't open a bottle of water Law." You replied, hand tightening around the bottle. "You are a busy guy. People need you."

"Yes, but I'm your doctor now and I always take good care of my patients. You are a top priority now, don't ever forget that Y/n-ya."

"Playing favorites now are we, Doctor Law?" You tease, leaning back down onto the table.

Law was tempted to say yes, but kept his mouth shut as he pulled the mini ultrasound machine closer.

He takes what looks to be a white vibrating wond, if you've ever seen one. Slipping a condom over it, opening a bottle of lube and smearing it on the device. "Now, I want you to guide this to the opening of your vagina and I'll do the rest." His tone is serious, he isn't joking.

Your eyes widen. "What?" Your face reddening.

------ End of Chapter 2 ------

💛 Chapter 1 - Coffee and Confessions

💛 Chapter 3 - Heartbeat

I know, I know, I'm late. I'm sorry! But I hope this makes up for it! The Cliff hanger was an impulse XD Gotta keep ya'll on your toes, don't I?

Happy Valentines Day, my peeps and Law!

Tag List: @m0sigma7 @angelblueflame @pandora-writes-one-piece @short-honey-badger @supreme-burrito @fanaticsnail @turtletaubwrites @cherry-queens-blog @fairymama624 @mrstraffy @kira-scarllet @strawheart-pirate @thekatisspooky @lunulatalux @physics-of-one-piece @honeyshiddendesire

[lady-datura]

lil something to add to nerd!armin fic :3

no intro on this bad boy, hope you’re ready to study anatomy terms *aggressively*

“Again. Come on, you know this one.” Armin chided as your legs trembled, your knuckles white as you desperately clung to the bedsheets.

“Nnngh- the aorta is- anterior to- nnngh- the spinal column-“ You gasped out, barely able to keep your thoughts straight as his relentless pace from behind had you careening towards your third climax.

You and Armin had begun regular study sessions to help your grade in the anatomy lab you were both in. Although he had somewhat non traditional methods of teaching, you had to admit the “lessons” had actually been helping. Of course, the nights always started the same way- textbooks and pages of notes strewn over the coffee table, diagrams taped to the wall, Armin’s comically large pointer that he used in his lessons. You’d started to see another side to him beyond the nerdy, quiet facade. And through the nights spent studying (and not studying), you couldn’t help but to become charmed by his passion for knowledge.

“Better. One more, then you can come. Can you do that for me?” A resounding slap echoed around the cramped dorm room, quickly bringing you back to the present.

You whined and nodded against the mattress, struggling to form words as he pounded into your aching core. Heat spread across your skin from where his hand had made contact, sending shocks of pleasure through you. You weren’t sure if you were gonna make it, between the pop quiz and the delicious overstimulation as he continued his pace, kissing your womb with every stroke.

“Mmm- Armin, please-“ You choked out, his grip on your soft hip tightening. He adored your curves, and he took every opportunity to show you that.

He smiled and hummed, his hips stuttering slightly at your needy, breathy voice. He leaned down over your back, gently lifting your hair away from your face.

“I know, I know. You’re doing so well- nngh- just a little more, okay?” His voice had softened, but still carried the quiet assertiveness you’d grown accustomed to.

He grabbed your hips as he straightened up again, supporting your body as your legs trembled helplessly. He also took this opportunity to drive into you with renewed vigor, pulling you back onto him with each thrust.

“Armin!” You cried out, your core pulsing desperately for release.

“One more, an easy one, okay? Posterior.” He watched your beautifully wrecked form, gasping and writhing with pleasure as you tried to give him an answer. He smiled to himself, his pride swelling seeing the product of his hard work.

You moaned, dropping your head against the soft sheets as you wracked your brain- or what was left of it- for an answer. Suddenly you felt one of his hands snake around your body, finding your aching bundle of nerves and giving it a soft touch. The pleasure shot through you, the pressure building in your abdomen reaching an impossible level.

“T-the lungs- nnngh, f-fuck-“ You managed to garble out, your eyes rolling back into your head. “P-posterior to the heart!”

He grinned, pleased with your answer. He would correct the technicalities later, when he had access to a diagram.

“There you go, good girl.” He felt his own climax rapidly approaching, and he held on desperately to get you there first. He began circling your clit with his fingers in tight circles, building that gentle pressure that he knew would send you over the edge. “Come on now, come for me. Let me hear your sweet voice again.”

You gasped, the tension building up and bursting the moment the words left his mouth. Your walls fluttered and clenched, waves of pleasure crashing over you as your juices dripped down your thighs. He moaned at the sight, your flushed, wrecked, trembling body completely at his mercy.

After a few more thrusts his hips stuttered, a soft groan escaping his lips as he spilled his hot seed inside of you. Panting, he guided you onto your side and wrapped his arms around you, leaving soft kisses on your shoulder as you caught your breath.

“See? I knew you could do it. Adding a reward makes it much easier for your brain to remember things.” He whispered, his breath tickling your ear.

“Mmm, yeah. It’s definitely been working.” You smiled, settling in against his warm chest. “My grade went from a D to a C. We only go up from here, right?”

He grinned, nodding. “That’s right. And your grades aren’t the only thing that’s only going up…”

Your eyes widened and you turned around, a mix of amusement and horror in your expression. He laughed, pulling you in to him and kissing your forehead.

“Later, you earned a break.” His smile softened as he looked at you, tired out in his arms. You huffed and nodded, cozying into the blankets.

“That’s right. Between studying and keeping up with you, I’m wiped out. You know…” Your voice trailed off, and Armin raised his eyebrow.

“Know what?” He prodded, poking your side.

“For someone who’s known for being the quiet nerd type, you’re really quite… How do I put it…”

“What, you thought I wouldn’t know my way around your body? You’re not too hard to crack, I just needed to pay attention to your cute little responses… Like this.” He slowly dragged a finger down your side, sending shivers across your skin. You groaned, turning your head to look at him.

“Armin…” You whined, your eyes wide and pleading. He chuckled, nodding.

“I know, I know, it’s time to rest. Get some sleep, I already set an alarm.” He draped a blanket over both of you, pulling a pillow down and gently resting your head on it.

You smiled, closing your eyes as you felt sleep quickly taking over you.

[vadersangel]

Skittles and Ghosts - Roman Godfrey x Reader - Chapter 2

Synopsis: A colorful happy go lucky girl comes to disrupt the life of the brooding school heart-throb Roman Godfrey. With her kindness and bluntness, she crept into his heart. But in the small town of Hemlock Grove, something eerie is about to happen; when Brooke Bluebell dies on school grounds, Roman, Peter and the new girl form an unlikely bond to unveil what really happened. A love story flourishes amidst the chaos raised by a vengeful ghost.

Genre: humor, fluff, smut (later chapters), horror, angst, enemies to lovers, slow burn.

Trigger Warnings: blood, drugs, alcohol, death, sex, foul language.

Previously on Skittles and Ghosts: Roman stepped up to defend his new acquaintance, in spite of how annoying her kind manners and colorful personality--and clothes--were to him.

CH 1, CH 2

Now: A trip to the mall and a party at Brooke Bluebell's house promise to add a bit more drama to the mix. What was supposed to be a fun night ends with a display of jealousy that leaves our protagonist very confused. Mixed signals much?

Word count: 3637

⊹ ₊  ⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡˚₊‧⁺ ₊ ⊹

READER’S POV

After so many years living in New York, I was extremely excited about the prospect of living in a small town. I had never really enjoyed large metropolitan areas: all that noise, the insane amount of people that roamed the streets, desperate, like a bunch of workaholic ants. To say it overwhelmed me would barely scratch the surface. So when my parents came up to me to give me the news–that we would be moving to Hemlock Grove because my father had been hired by a certain Godfrey Institute–I was ecstatic. No one would have packed their belongings faster than I did. My whole life went in a few boxes, and I was ready to go. The many friends I had gathered through the years would remain my friends no matter what. We could always visit, text, call…

A strong feeling of recognition came over me as soon as we entered the city limits of Hemlock Grove. Every turn of every street, every house and every tree seemed oddly known to me. I felt a strange tingling in my chest, as if my heart was being tickled, and I had the biggest smile on my face when our car parked in front of our new home.

After a week, and many boxes unpacked, my classes started.

The sun and the heat caressed my skin when I got out of my dad’s car, bidding him goodbye. Summer was my favorite season, and even though it was about to end, I could still relish in the heat for a few more days before the Pennsylvanian skies turned grey.

Nothing about that day could have hinted at the punch in the gut I would feel when I saw the lanky, tall boy I would later find out was Roman Godfrey, the heir to the Godfrey Institute. His ridiculously green eyes were glued to me with what I could only describe as utter despair, as if I were about to sprout wings and fly all the while singing opera or something. His expression was so real, so raw, that I couldn’t help but to smile, which seemed to throw him off a little. At that moment I made up my mind, I had to get to know him.

Lucky for me, I was placed in the same class as him. And to double my luck, the teacher pointed me to a seat by his side. When I sat down and looked at him, it looked like his brain was glitching; I could swear I saw his eye twitch. Once again, I smiled.

It wasn’t really necessary to be a rocket scientist to realize my sole existence was a nuisance for him. Something about me seemed too outrageous for him. Maybe it was the fact that I was too cheerful, too colorful for his taste. Still, I found his annoyance extremely entertaining. I couldn’t get enough of it.

I wasn’t expecting him to step up in my defense when Ryan started to bully me. I was so irritated, crying in anger as usual, that I didn’t notice Roman’s presence until he literally barked at the bully in front of me and crossed the distance between us inhumanly fast. The series of events that unfolded in front of me got me confused to say the least. I questioned myself about the reasons why that boy was complying to Roman’s demands, considering it probably had something to do with the fact that the Godfreys practically owned the town. Soon enough, Ryan and his friends were gone and Roman turned to face me. That was when I noticed the dark streak of thick blood trickling from his nose. Before my thoughts could even fully form–before I could even process the fact that he would probably be extremely pissed off at me for invading his personal space–I had already reached for my handkerchief in my purse and was pressing it against his nose. My voice came out as a strangled, desperate squeal because I hated blood, and I idiotically pointed out the obvious: “You’re bleeding!” 

I thought I was going to faint, but thankfully I didn’t.

Roman rolled his eyes, but for some reason, he allowed me to try and help him. He tilted his head back, trying to keep the blood from flowing even more profusely. Eventually, he took my pocket square, eliminating the need for me to keep my hand up, pressing against his nose. 

The whole thing lasted less than a minute, but the seconds seemed to drag on unbearably. Finally, he managed to stop the bleeding.

Tucking my handkerchief into his pocket, he frowned at me. It seemed like he was about to say something, but the words died before leaving his lips. He shook his head, scowled, and swept past me like a gust of wind.

For the next three days, he was nowhere to be seen.

-*-

Peter sat across from me at the cafeteria, tearing at his napkin, his lunch left untouched. He was an outcast and being his friend granted me the same status–or lack thereof.

“Is he always like that… I mean, quiet? Intense?” My brows furrowed, and the words came out low, hesitant.

Peter shrugged and grinned at me before finally speaking in his slurred voice, his eyes scanning me as if trying to gauge the extent of my interest in Roman. “Nah… He relaxes a bit once he feels comfortable.”

A pause, no longer than five seconds took place, before he continued: “When we first met, he asked me if I worshipped the devil.”

“Do you?” My eyes widened in surprise. I wasn’t one to judge people’s religion or spiritual beliefs, but the idea of Peter being a satanist took me off guard.

“What do you think?” He chuckled, playfully throwing a napkin ball at me, and I kicked his shins under the table.

Suddenly, the cafeteria exploded with whispers and giggles. If it wasn’t already pretty obvious who had just graced us with his presence, the recognition in Peter’s eyes would have given it away. I glanced back and Roman was walking towards our table in long determined strides. He sat by my side, taking me by surprise with the sudden proximity. His eyes locked in mine, knocking the air out of my lungs.

He handed me my handkerchief. It was clean. Not a trace of his blood. I couldn’t help the smile that formed in my lips. I thought he would have thrown it away in the trash somewhere, but he was kind enough to wash it and return it to me. My heart was warm. I felt for a second that maybe we were moving towards becoming friends. But he rolled his eyes and groaned, averting his gaze and looking at Peter, who scoffed in return. One step forward, two steps back, I guess…

⊹ ₊  ⁺‧₊˚ ♡

ROMAN’S POV:

At that point, I was absolutely certain that Peter had set his mind on screwing me over! Hades’ headache had invited us to go shopping with her. I was about to give her a piece of my mind when the motherfucking traitor said yes. My jaw clenched, but then I looked at her, and she had those huge eyes filled with hope–or whatever that was–and I just obliged. Even though I tried to tell them that the Jag was only able to comfortably accommodate two people, neither of them seemed to care about the laws—which, quite frankly, made sense since Olivia would definitely be able to bribe me out of anything anyway.

So now I was driving the three of us to the mall. I have apparently been reduced to their personal chauffeur. The two wouldn’t shut their fucking mouths, for crying out loud, and she was talking about dinosaurs again.

“Roman, did you know that the Tyrannosaurus rex had a bite force of about 8,000 pounds per square inch?” She said, almost draping herself over Peter who sat between us. The space was too small for us and, since the roof was up, her flowery scent filled the car like a sucker punch. My eyes darted at her briefly before I focused back on the road.

“Crucial information, huh?” I mocked, but it went over her head completely.

“Right? It’s stronger than any living land animal today!” She continued with a smile on her face.

-*-

“You don’t have to be so mean, you know?” Peter said absentmindedly when his new friend went into the fitting room. I couldn’t help but groan in annoyance at his audacity.

“Mean? Are you fucking kidding me? You made me drive you and the pack of Skittles all the way here! For fucks sake!”

Peter proceeded to pick up a pink blouse with cherry print, holding it up directly in front of my face, as he asked, “You think she’ll like this one?”

I frowned deeply, debating whether I should punch his face or just leave.

That was when I heard her birdlike voice coming from behind my back, “What do you think?” 

She was not talking to me or Peter; she was asking the saleswoman for her opinion.

Peter turned to face her, and if it hadn't been for him nudging me to look, I wouldn't have turned around. It was more of an instinct than interest, but the sight caught me completely off guard. She was in a summery white dress, nearly see-through. My eyes widened and my mouth fell agape at the unexpectedness of her attire choice. The rate of my heartbeats increased more than I would ever care to admit to anyone–not even myself. I felt the urge to cover her with my jacket and send her back into the fitting room, but I just couldn’t move, or breathe for that matter.

“I knew it!” Peter’s smug face broke me out of my trance and I scowled at him.

“Fuck off!” I retorted, not bothering to ask him what he meant; I knew what he meant.

“I was thinking of something more colorful, you know?” She said to the saleswoman, who pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, apparently considering whether she had other colors in stock. My eyes scanned the store quickly and I spotted a red summer dress with a tiny floral pattern. In long strides, before the saleswoman could even begin to move to check the stock, I went to grab it and I handed it to Skittles. I desperately needed her out of that see-through suggestive dress–in more ways than one!

“Is this colorful enough?” I asked in a monotone, trying to convey my annoyance and to focus on not letting my eyes wander over her body.

She smiled brightly, “Now that will do! Thanks, Rome!”

I flinched at the nickname.

-*-

“So, I’m the pack of Skittles, huh?” She called me out while licking her strawberry ice cream cone–of course, it had to be strawberry! “I like it… Skittles… Sounds cute.”

My eyes rolled as I took a spoonful of my pistachio ice cream, ignoring her. However, against my will, my gaze kept drifting to her lips, to the way her tongue flicked over the ice cream cone–how she slowly gathered every drop of melting cream, making sure none of it went to waste. I wondered whether she was doing that on purpose; first the see-through dress, now the obscene way in which she was eating the dessert. I felt my throat dry up.

Peter, on the other hand, seemed unaffected, all jokes and smiles…

“Rome, I’m not mad that you called me Skittles. You don’t have to look so serious!” That playfulness plastered all over her face couldn’t be innocent. She knew damn well what she was doing. Her lips wrapped around the cone.

That nickname was going to stick.

⊹ ₊  ⁺‧₊˚ ♡

READER’S POV:

His eyes darkened visibly, his pupils dilating so much that only a thin green rim of his irises could be seen. It was hard to pinpoint whether his reaction was motivated by anger or something else entirely. I knew I was blushing because I felt my cheeks heat up. Chewing nervously on my bottom lip, I tried to look away, averting my gaze to Peter who seemed relaxed–far away from my inner turmoil. 

“I’m not serious… I’m just not a psycho who smiles all the time.” Roman finally spoke, breaking the silence and forcing me to look back at him. His eyes were narrowed in contempt as he seemed to be trying to dissect my face.

“Anyway…” I began, clearing my throat and biting into the waffle cone of my ice cream before continuing, “Are you guys planning on going to Brooke’s party tonight?”

Roman frowned in confusion for a brief moment before realization seemed to hit him. He sounded utterly annoyed when he finally spoke, “Are you?”

“I’m not sure… This girl, Angela, has been really friendly to me and wants me to come. And Brooke personally invited me, so… yeah, I guess so? I mean, I can’t have just the two of you as my only friends. As helpful as you are in finding cute dresses, Ro, you’re not a girl.” I winked playfully.

It was hilarious how every time I spoke, he looked at me with that annoyed expression--like he was on the verge of having a stroke or something. I bit back a laugh.

Roman huffed. “Damn right I ain’t.”

“Yeah, we’re definitely coming to Brooke’s!” Peter touched Roman’s shoulder, squeezing it slightly as he spoke in a teasing tone, a sly smile on his face.

“Great” I said, smiling at them. It was cool to know that the two people I was closer with would be at the party. Even if Roman was not exactly my biggest fan, it meant a lot to me that he had come in my defense when I needed it. In a way, he made me feel safe.

-*-

At the last minute, Peter texted me saying he wouldn’t be able to make it to the party. Naturally, I thought Roman wouldn’t be there either, so it was a pleasant surprise when I arrived at Brooke’s house and spotted him leaning against the kitchen island. I was well aware of how handsome he looked, but at that moment it hit differently. His clothes were nothing special, just black jeans, black boots and a black t-shirt–still he looked like he had just stepped out of a magazine cover. I tried to suppress the butterfly that started flapping its wings in my throat, threatening to fly down to my stomach. I wanted to greet Broke and Angela, but they were nowhere to be seen. When my gaze turned back to Roman, he was looking at me. Again, it seemed as if his brain was glitching, and I had to smile. He chugged his beer and looked away, seemingly hoping I would just leave him alone. I nearly kicked my feet at how cute he looked with that frustrated expression as I made my way toward him. He could have stood up and walked away, but the fact that he stayed put and waited for me had to mean something.

“Hello, stranger!” I said with the brightest smile.

“No…” He rolled his eyes at me.

“Moody?” My nose wrinkled playfully and I took his beer from his hand, our fingers brushing in the process. I took a sip of the beer and my face immediately contorted–it was too bitter for me.

“I was fine before you showed up…” He said in his sing-song, sarcastic tone, as he took his beer back, finishing it.

A girl named Hannah from my biology class draped her arm over Roman's neck, and his attention turned to her completely. Now, I may be clueless most of the time, but I know when I’m third wheeling. So, I just rolled my eyes and walked away discreetly. The acid in my stomach began to churn as I tried to convince myself it was merely the result of the beer I had just drunk.

I went to sit on the couch.

I tried to focus on anything else: the music, the lights, other people’s conversations. However, my eyes kept darting to Roman and Hannah. He was sitting at the kitchen island stool, and the girl was standing between his legs. He had one of his huge hands tangled in her hair and the other sprawled at the small of her back, pulling her flush against him. Their mouths connected in a heated kiss. I was unsure whether I was envious, jealous, or both. Hannah began to kiss Roman’s neck and at that moment, his eyes fluttered open and he stared directly at me–it knocked the air out of my lungs. 

I was in a trance, shamelessly staring, when a guy entered my field of vision, blocking the way between me and the scene I had been watching so intently.

“Hi!” He greeted. He had big brown eyes and fluffy brown hair. “I’m Ethan… I don’t think we have been properly introduced yet. We have chemistry together.”

His tone made it clear that he was aiming for a double entendre. Ethan was one of the cutest guys at school, and I could have been interested in him if Roman Godfrey hadn’t managed to sweep my heart away already. I smiled politely at him and we exchanged a few words for about five minutes. Then I managed to look over Ethan’s shoulder and I couldn’t spot Roman anywhere. My heart sank. 

I looked at the boy whom I had been talking to, excused myself, and went straight to the bathroom to freshen up. I needed to get a grip. I made my way through the small crowd, finally finding the bathroom that was empty by some miracle. Upon entering it, I stared at myself in the mirror and my face was a deep shade of red. I turned on the faucet, letting the cold water run over my hands before using them to splash the back of my neck. That was when I heard some particularly strange noises coming through the bathroom window that overlooked the back of the house. It didn’t take long for me to realize that those were the noises of two people going at it. It also didn’t take long for me to know that it was Roman and Hannah. It would be a lie to say that anger didn’t begin to rise within me, especially when I heard the girl saying his name in that sultry, suggestive voice. 

But I knew I didn’t have the right to call dibs on a guy I had just met. It was unreasonable. Roman had made it pretty clear that I was a bother to him at every turn; I couldn’t expect him to be all over me the second I showed up in a dress just because he had chosen it for me. I wouldn’t let this minor inconvenience throw me off either. I would enjoy the party and I would come back stronger with a better plan to snatch him. Besides, Ethan was a cute distraction. I could use a small distraction and take the time to bond with other people. Just a small detour.

I went back to the living room and I continued to chat with Ethan. After a while, Brooke and Angela joined us and we decided to play beer pong at the yard. Now, Ethan was my beer pong partner and we were playing against Brooke and Angela.

Some guys came over to ask if they could throw themselves in the pool. To which Broke made a clear statement that no one was allowed in it–The pool had just been cleaned, and it was necessary to first check the chlorine levels to ensure safe swimming parameters before anyone could enter.

“Thank God you’re letting us know it beforehand. I was just about to jump in, but I am sensitive to chlorine!” Ethan said playfully and thankful that he hadn’t thrown himself in the pool.

I looked around in search of Roman, and to my surprise, he was sitting just a few steps from the ping-pong table, with Hannah and two other guys, smoking a joint. He was paying attention to our conversation, his eyes darting from me to Ethan.

We all continued playing beer pong. I was having fun with my new friends and trying to ignore the pull that Roman had over me, the all consuming desire to glance at him every once in a while. Ethan and I won and we hugged and he said that he was going to the kitchen to fetch us some fancy drinks. I waited there with Brooke and Angela who wanted a do-over, unhappy with the defeat.

Roman disappeared again. Not with Hannah this time, because she was still there smoking and drinking with the other guys. I scanned everywhere searching for him. From the yard, it was possible to see the kitchen through the enormous windows. That was where I spotted Roman leaned in to speak into Ethan’s ear, whose brown eyes seemed strangely empty, as if he were caught in the midst of a sleepwalking episode. The guy then walked out of the kitchen with our drinks, handed them to me without even acknowledging my presence, and headed straight for the pool—even though he had just mentioned his chlorine allergy. My jaw dropped, my face twisting in disbelief.

As the chaos erupted, with Brooke rushing over to scold Ethan for jumping in the pool after she explicitly told everyone not to, I turned to glance at Roman.

He was standing there in the kitchen, blood dripping from his nose, a devilish grin spread across his face.

I rushed to help Ethan out of the pool.

When I looked back toward the kitchen, Roman was gone.

[call-me-copycat]

Nothing really happens in the Dabi chapter and it's only 2 pages (back to back, so 4) long, yet the author drew those pages in such a way that I feel I shouldn't be reading it... (〃▽〃)

(sneak peak)

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Tea Parties - Steve Harrington X Female Reader

Title: Tea Parties

Steve Harrington X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Astrid, and Reader's mother (Mentioned)

| Part 1 |

WC: 2,234

Warnings: Post-Season 4 events, italics, Reader is a single mother, cursing, nicknames, flirting, banter, teasing, Reader mentioned wearing heels very briefly, and fluff

Pulling into the driveway, you let out a slow sigh, the weight of the day settling in your bones. It hadn’t been the worst day, but it had dragged on, leaving you drained. Working in retail was not your dream job, but it paid alright, enough for you to get the essentials for your daughter. With a tired hand, you turned down the radio that was previously blasting Cyndi Lauper, grabbed your bag from the passenger seat, and stepped out. The evening air was cool against your skin as you dug into your bag for your keys.

Unlocking the front door, you pushed it open, stepping inside and shutting it softly behind you. You kicked off your heels with a relieved sigh, letting them fall haphazardly by the door before dropping your bag onto the small entryway table. The familiar sound of giggles carried from the living room, instantly melting away some of your exhaustion.

Your lips curled into a smile as you followed the sound, leaning against the doorway once you reached the living room. The sight before you made your heart swell and melt all at once. Steve sat on the floor at Astrid’s tiny play table, his long legs awkwardly bent to fit in the small space, while your daughter sat across from him in her favorite princess dress.

But it wasn’t just their tea party that had you grinning. No, it was Steve - your Steve - sporting a bright pink tutu over his jeans, no doubt at Astrid’s insistence. His usually perfect hair was gathered into two messy pigtails, sticking up at odd angles, and his cheeks were dusted with sparkly pink play makeup that made them unnaturally rosy.

Astrid delicately lifted her tiny plastic teacup and took a pretend sip, her expression comically serious. “Would you like more tea, Sir Steeb?” She asked, tilting her head in a regal fashion. You bit your lip to stay quiet, Astrid still couldn’t quite say Steve’s name correctly, so ‘Steeb’ was close enough.

And Steve, bless him, played along flawlessly. He lifted his own cup with his pinky out, nodding gravely. “Why, yes, Princess Astrid. A little more, please. It’s simply divine.”

Ah, bless him, he was even trying to do a terrible posh accent.

Your smile widened, warmth spreading through your chest as you watched them. It had been a year since your first date with Steve - the night he found out that Astrid was your daughter. It felt like just yesterday, but so much had changed since then.

In that time, Steve had become an irreplaceable part of your life. He was incredible with Astrid, always patient and kind, making sure she felt loved and safe. He’d spent hours building blanket forts, watching princess movies, playing dress-up, and having tea parties. It was true that he was one hell of a babysitter - and you knew that he would be a great father someday, which was a secret thought of yours that you were not going to say out loud.

Astrid, in turn, adored him. You couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t light up at the sound of his name. She loved spending time with him, and it warmed your heart to see the two of them together. You never could have imagined this life - a life where the two people you loved most in the world got along so perfectly. It was better than you ever hoped, and every day, you found yourself falling a little more in love with Steve. It was impossible not to.

You leaned back slightly, content, watching them for a moment longer, letting the peacefulness of the moment settle over you. You didn’t need anything more than this.

You hadn’t even stepped fully into the room yet, but Steve’s eyes flickered up, locking onto yours. His face softened, a small, knowing smirk tugging at his lips despite the ridiculous makeup.

“Rough day?” He asked gently.

You nodded, unable to stop smiling. “Yeah, but I think it just got a whole lot better.”

Astrid turned excitedly in her seat, her face lighting up when she saw you. “Mommy! You’re just in time for tea!”

And just like that, the exhaustion of the day faded into the background.

Smiling, you stepped further into the room, slipping down onto the floor beside them. The plush rug softened the weight of the day as you crossed your legs, settling in. Gently, you reached out, brushing your fingers through Astrid’s soft curls before pressing a tender kiss to her temple. She giggled, leaning into the touch before turning back to her tea set with serious concentration.

“Here, time for tea!” She chirped, handing you a tiny pink teacup before carefully ‘pouring’ you some imaginary tea from her plastic teapot.

You accepted it with an exaggerated air of importance, lifting the cup delicately, pinky out, just as Steve had done. Bringing it to your lips, you took a slow, thoughtful sip before humming in approval.

“Oh my, is this Earl Grey?” You asked, raising a brow as if deeply impressed.

Astrid beamed with pride, nodding enthusiastically. “Yes! It’s the best in the kingdom!”

Steve grinned, shooting you a playful wink over the rim of his own teacup. “Only the finest for royalty.”

You chuckled, taking another ‘sip’ and sighing dramatically. “Well then, I must say, this is exactly what I needed after such a long day.”

Astrid clapped her hands together, delighted, while Steve nudged your knee under the table, his voice dropping to something softer. “Good. You deserve a little royal treatment.”

You shook your head, your smile growing. 

For the next twenty minutes or so, the three of you remained in your little tea party kingdom, sipping on imaginary tea, discussing royal matters, and bestowing grand titles upon each other. Astrid, of course, was the reigning princess, while Steve was dubbed "Sir Steeb the Brave," and you were the "Queen Mommy of Cozy Cuddles."

But eventually, a tiny yawn slipped past Astrid’s lips, her eyelids growing heavier by the second. Steve glanced down at his watch, eyebrows lifting. “Whoa, it’s past your bedtime, kiddo,” He announced.

Astrid sat up straighter, shaking her head. “I’m not tired,” She insisted, even as another yawn betrayed her.

You chuckled, standing up and reaching for her. “Mmm, you always say that,” You teased, lifting her effortlessly into your arms. “And then two minutes later, you’re snoring in my ear.”

She huffed in protest but didn’t fight it, instead letting her arms drape sleepily around your neck as she snuggled her face into your shoulder. You swayed gently as you carried her up the stairs, pressing a soft kiss to her hair.

Meanwhile, Steve stayed behind, gathering up the tea party set and moving it out of the middle of the living room to be put away in the morning. With a groan, he flopped onto the couch, pulling the scrunchies out and running a hand through his now very-much-ruined hair, remnants of glitter still clinging to his cheeks. A few moments later, you padded back down the stairs in your pajamas, letting out a deep sigh as you joined him on the couch, sinking into the cushions beside him.

Steve draped his arm over the back of the couch, his fingers lazily brushing through your hair, nails grazing your scalp in slow, delicious strokes. A content hum slipped from your lips, your body instinctively relaxing under his touch. Without a second thought, you tossed your legs over his lap, and his free hand immediately found its way to your calf, his thumb tracing absentminded circles against your skin.

“Thanks for watching Astrid again,” You murmured, tilting your head slightly to meet his gaze. “My mom would’ve watched her, but she really wanted to go to bridge-night.”

Steve smirked, his fingers still threading through your hair. “Anytime. Though, I gotta say, your kid has a serious knack for persuasion. I don’t think I’ve ever voluntarily worn this much glitter in my life.”

You laughed softly, reaching up to brush a stray speck of pink shimmer from his cheek. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure it’ll still be there next week.”

He groaned dramatically, shaking his head. “Great. Just what I always wanted - permanent fairy dust.”

Smiling, you gave his cheek a lingering poke. “Well, I think you wear it pretty well.”

Steve rolled his eyes but grinned, his fingers continuing their slow, soothing motions through your hair. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t tell Robin. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

You chuckled mischievously, tilting your head in faux innocence. “Oh, I don’t know… I think she’d love to see you all dolled up.”

Reaching up, you tried to fix his hair - well, what was left of the mess Astrid had made of it. But before you could do much, Steve just stared at you, his expression softening. His hand slipped from your hair to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing along your skin in slow, warm strokes.

“How was your day?” He asked, voice quieter now. “Aside from it being exhausting.”

You sighed, leaning slightly into his touch. “Oh, you know. The usual,” You started. “Had this lady come in, tried to return a dress, but I couldn’t give her money back because the return date had passed - like, a week ago. She wasn’t happy about it, blew up at me, and asked for the manager.” You rolled your eyes. “So I went and got my manager, and that was basically it.”

Steve hummed thoughtfully, his thumb still tracing along your cheek. “Well,” He said after a beat, “She sounds like a bitch.”

Your mouth fell open, eyes wide as you smacked his chest. “Steve!”

He grinned unapologetically, shrugging. “What? I call it like I see it.”

You tried to glare at him, but your laughter betrayed you, bubbling out as you buried your face in his shoulder, your arms wrapping around his midsection, shaking your head. “You’re terrible,” You mumbled between giggles.

“Nah,” He said, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. “I’m just honest.”

You let out a content sigh, your body growing heavier against him as your eyes started to droop. “Mmm… Tell me about your day with Astrid,” You murmured sleepily.

Steve smiled, his fingers still tracing soft patterns against the skin of your arm. “Well, after you left, I tried to make dinner,” He started, “Ended up going with spaghetti. Not my best work, but Astrid liked it, so I’m calling it a win.” You hummed in approval, your head shifting slightly against his shoulder as he continued. “Then we watched “The Last Unicorn” - which, by the way, is way weirder than I remembered,” He said, shaking his head. “But she was totally into it. And after that, she decided it was dress-up and tea party time. Obviously, I had no choice in the matter.”

You let out a soft giggle, barely keeping your eyes open as sleep threatened to pull you under. Steve kept talking, his voice turning more affectionate.

“She was gossiping about some imaginary kingdom - called Ovebredora, I think - anyway, she was gossiping about this strict but benevolent queen and her army. Honestly? The kid’s got a pretty impressive imagination.” He hesitated for a moment before adding with a quiet chuckle, “She probably gets that from you.”

Steve glanced down then, ready to tease you a little more, only to find you completely still against him, your breathing deep and even. His chest warmed as he took in the sight of you, fast asleep, curled against his side. With a loving sigh, he leaned down, nuzzling his nose gently into your hair before shifting carefully. Slipping one arm under your legs and the other around your back, he lifted you effortlessly into his arms.

Carrying you bridal-style, he made his way up the stairs, pressing another soft kiss to your forehead before whispering, “C’mon, your Highness. Let’s get you to bed.”

With a gentle nudge, he pushed your bedroom door open with his foot, stepping inside before carefully laying you down on the bed. You barely stirred as he tucked the blankets around you, making sure you were warm and comfortable. With one last glance at your peaceful face, he shut the bedroom door quietly behind him before heading to your dresser. Grabbing a pair of his pajama sweats, he made his way into the adjoining bathroom, flicking on the light.

Steve groaned lightly at his reflection, shaking his head at the mess Astrid had made of him. His cheeks were still dusted with glittery play makeup, a shimmery pink hue lingering along his cheekbones. Chuckling to himself, he grabbed a washcloth, scrubbing away the evidence of his tea party transformation.

After a few minutes, he emerged from the bathroom, now shirtless, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Running a hand through his hair, he made his way back to the bed, slipping under the covers beside you. Almost instantly, as if it were second nature, you shifted in your sleep, subconsciously moving into his arms. Steve smiled to himself, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you in closer.

“Yeah, yeah,” He murmured sleepily to himself more than to you, pressing a lazy kiss to your hair. “Just can’t resist me, huh?”

He didn’t expect an answer, but the way you sighed softly, snuggling against his chest, was more than enough.

~~~

Taglist: @bookkeeperlove

Let me know if you want to be added.

~~~

Main Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist

[theartsharki]

Heart to Heart Finale

First part / Previous

We made it to the end! Gave them a sweet ending because we all need the comfort.

Transcript below:

Richie: Plus you might get a staphyloco-whatever from the grey water too. You would have never forgiven me! I wouldn’t be able to live with myself… I need to tell you something but like I said, I’m fucking terrified. And I cannot imagine living without you-

Eddie: Richie? Richie.

R: WHAT?

E: You were so incredibly brave.

R: You think so?

E: Mhm… Makes me want to be brave too.

[paradiseismine]

Yay!! You’re doing Richie content!! ❤️✨

Please, I beg you to write a impatient Richie because y/n hasn’t stopped calling him “dude” and “bro”, and Richie is all like “Stop calling me «dude»!! I don’t wanna be friends with you, I like you dumbass!!”

Points extra if Richie is explicit with his feelings and y/n is painfully oblivious about it ✨

I’m not your friend - Richie Tozier x reader

Pairing: Richie Tozier (It) x f!latina!reader

Warnings: so much fluff I’m probably type 2 diabetic after this; love confessions; maybe a bit angsty?; no smut, but a little make out session at the end ‘cause ya know how i am

Love note from Nina: omg yes???? i loved this request, here you go, darling! 💗 I made the reader a latina girlie ‘cause I’m Latina myself lol, hope you don’t mind.

You had been a member of the losers club for a few months now - ever since you moved to Derry. You met Bev at summer school, and she introduced you to the gang one by one. Soon, you could see how you fit into the group perfectly, as they were all made fun of for some reason: being poor, or fat, or wearing glasses, or stuttering… and you were no different: you were an immigrant.

Your first language not being English, you’d find yourself being made fun of because of your accent, or for not knowing some specific words in English yet. Those high school boys were so mean to you, and it was so hard to navigate things - thank goodness you had made friends.

From the very beginning of your interactions with the boys, Bev told you she thought Richie had a crush on you. You dismissed her comments completely - there was no way a cute boy like him, so smart and funny, would be interested in someone like you. She’s imagining things, you thought.

As time went on, you sensed Richie was a bit clingy towards you, but Ben was also a bit clingy towards Bev, and they weren’t dating or anything, she clearly liked Bill. So maybe that was just how things were in the US, right? A cultural thing, maybe.

It all had led to today - it was a warm Sunday afternoon in July, and Richie had invited you to join him for a movie at his house. You thought the rest of the gang was going to tag along, but as you got there, it was just the two of you.

Maybe he’s not feeling super social today, you thought, but still felt glad he wanted to spend time with you - he even let you pick the movie.

As the tv glowed before you, you two were sat side by side on the couch. Richie held your hand delicately, caressing your palm with his thumb, his warm touch making you smile and relaxing your tensed up muscles. Your eyes felt heavy as the movie progressed, and your head ended up on his shoulder somehow.

His left arm went around your torso, embracing you and pulling you to his chest instead. His free hand caressed your hair carefully, twirling small strands around his index finger. You let out a deep breath, feeling so comfortable around him.

You still didn’t believe what Bev had said - Richie was probably just a bit needy and you were available that day. You’d take what you could get, though, and this was actually pretty good. His natural scent was very pleasant, even if subtle, and you loved being able to smell him, to feel his body’s warmth, to feel him in general.

“Should I get a blanket for us?” You broke the silence. Mrs. Tozier would always keep a blanket in a small wooden chest at the corner of the living room - the softest thing ever. Richie agreed and paused the movie.

You stood up to get the blanket, but as you turned around to get it, Richie had gotten up as well and poked your shoulder, making your turn back to him again.

“I’m happy you’re here, y/n” Richie smiled, gently putting his lips to your forehead.

“Thank you so much bro, I’m glad you invited me too!” You answered, smiling.

“Bro?” He furrowed his eyebrows. “Thank you bro?” He repeated in a high pitched voice, mocking you.

“Whoa, dude, that’s not how you talk to a friend” you replied, nervous. “Is everything okay with you?”

“I’m not your friend, y/n” Richie said, impatience audible in his voice, eyes squinting behind his thick glasses.

You seemed utterly confused at his statement, and that only made Richie feel worse.

“You’re… you’re not my friend?” You asked, your voice faint and raspy. “What am I to you, then?”

“You’re the girl i love, stupid” his eyes shot wide open at yours. “I’m not your bro, not your dude, none of those things, for god’s sake” Richie rolled his eyes as he spoke, resentment and courage surfacing abruptly in his posture. “I wanna be your boyfriend!”

Your jaw dropped. You disliked the fact that he nearly screamed those words to your face - but at the same time, you knew Richie, and knew those feelings were probably eating him alive for months now, and that was the only way he could get them out of his body and into the world.

His eyes stared into yours, filling up with tears as you simply stood there, unable to utter a single rational thought to him - you could only let your body take over.

Your hands went for the collar of his shirt, pulling it down aggressively as you put your lips on his. You peeked through your closed eyes as you kissed him, his eyes wide open in shock for a second, and then closing in pleasure as he melted into the kiss. Richie had fantasized about this moment pretty much ever since he first laid eyes on you. His hands were on your waist, timidly holding your body to his.

“Wow, Rich, I-I had no idea you felt like that” you said shyly as you broke the kiss to get some air.

“Really?” He asked softly, intrigued. “I-I’ve always treated you so differently than how I’d treat Bev, or, like, any other girl…”

“I just… Well, Bev told me she thought you had a crush on me, but I don’t know, I couldn’t believe her” you shrugged. “You’re so smart, and so funny, and so cute… What’d you see in a Latina who still messes up speaking in English sometimes?”

Richie shook his head in disbelief.

“To me, you speak English way better than a lot of Americans, love” he chuckled. “I love your softness, how gentle and sweet you are. I thought you didn’t like me, you know, like that…”

“Rich, I-“ you said, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. “I think I love you”

Richie couldn’t even contain himself as he smiled ear to ear, arms wrapping tighter than ever around your body, as he squeezed you into his embrace.

“I love you too” he said, voice muffled as his face was still buried in the crook of your neck.

“Y/n, I… Can I kiss you again?” Richie asked as he let go of your sides, feeling a bit silly about the situation. “I wanted to kiss you for so long, and now we did, but I… I wanted to savor it more, you know?”

You didn’t know what “savor” meant, but you wanted to kiss him again, too. You nodded shyly, hands cupping his face and bringing it down to your lips.

Richie’s kiss was soft and sweet, lips slowly tracing yours as his arms wrapped around your waist once again. It was so good to feel him so close, his breath mixing up with yours, his hands on your waist, your chests pressed up against each other.

You bit his lower lip gently before breaking the kiss, getting a moan to escape his lips. Holding the hair on his nape, you put your head to the side and kissed his neck slowly, nipping at his skin, biting him gently, licking him with the very tip of your tongue. Richie’s body was squirming around yours, his breathing and heart accelerated.

He turned his face to yours, trying to kiss your neck instead, but you didn’t let him, grabbing the hair from his nape to keep him in place as you teased him.

“No, no, no, I’m not done with you yet, love” you whispered to his ear, nibbling on his earlobe as you spoke.

“You’re so mean, doll” he said, slightly out of breath. His cheeks were pink and hot to the touch. “Let me touch you at least, then” he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you down to sit on the couch.

As Richie tried to lie down on top of you, your bum slipped, causing you to fall on the carpet. Richie chuckled lightly and joined you in a heartbeat.

He pinned you down on the carpet, putting his body to yours, holding both your wrists at the sides of your head. His lips were red and swollen from making out with you, but you both felt like you couldn’t stop. He kissed you once again, biting your bottom lip softly, getting your body to shiver. It felt imminent that something else could end up happening… But then, you both heard a key turning at the door.

“Richie, are you home?” A female yelled from the other room.

“Fuck, that’s my mom” he whispered, eyes wide open. Richie helped you up and sat you down on the couch, pretending nothing had happened.

A black haired woman showed up to the living room, shopping bags in her hands.

“Hi darlings, were you watching a movie?” She asked softly.

“Hi, mom, yeah” he answered, cheeks still flushed.

“Is that your friend y/n?” She squinted. You two hadn’t seen each other in a while, so she didn’t recognize you at first.

“Uhm… That’s actually my girlfriend y/n, why?” Richie grinned, satisfied.

[liyliths]

౨ৎ ⋆ ｡˚ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍

summary: you wind up a monster hunter, also third wheeling nancy and jonathan until steve harrington of all people shows up, surprise! between genuinely thinking you're going to die, fighting a monster, and trying to get will back, you're still wondering how you ended up in hawkins of all places. and, what's better, going back to living with your pos dad or fighting interdimensional monsters? you also find out steve harrington isn't as bad as you thought he was, yay!

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Is King Steve realizing he might not be a king after all?” She teased, watching with amusement as he winced at the nickname, waving her off. "Please, don’t call me that," he groaned, rolling his eyes as he stepped closer, closing the distance between them. "And, uh, Carol and Tommy? Yeah, they turned out to be real assholes."  Y/N shrugged, her tone light but knowing. “You were an asshole, Steve Harrington.” She pointed a finger at the boy’s chest, before giving him a slight, playful shove. Steve’s shoulders slumped slightly as he gave a small, regretful shrug. “I guess we all were, and I’m sorry.” Y/N’s lips curved into a grin as she met his gaze, her eyes softening. “Apology accepted.”

pairings: steve harrington x reader

warnings: mentions of a fight, death, blood, injury, cursing, monsters, and use of firearms and weapons

word count: 8.3k

────────────────────────────────────────────

Outside Hawkins Middle School, the teens rushed to Jonathan’s car underneath the stars. Jonathan slid into the driver's seat, shutting the door with a sharp thud. Nancy climbed into the passenger seat, her eyes sharp and focused. In the back seat, Y/N slipped in and glanced between her friends, taking a deep breath.

“Will the kids be okay by themselves?” She was quick to ask, glancing between her friends in the front seats.

“They should be. We need to grab those supplies from the police station,” Nancy nodded, shifting in her seat and turning to face Y/N. “We can’t let Hopper and Joyce walk in there like bait. If we can kill that thing from up here, it’ll give them the upper hand.”

Jonathan nodded, “Then let’s grab what we need from the station and get the hell out of there.” He spoke as he ignited the engine, the car’s tires screeching against the parking lot asphalt as they backed out of their spot, rushing to the station.

𝐁𝐲𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

Jonathan killed the engine as the group piled out of the car, their breath visible in the dark fall air. They rushed to the trunk where they had stashed the hunting tools and traps they had recovered from the police station after breaking in. Nancy grabbed the gasoline, while Jonathan hefted a box filled with bear traps and other supplies. Y/N took a deep breath and picked up a bat, turning to look at her friends.

Jonathan’s eyes scanned the shadows of the yard, his voice steady. “Let’s get inside and set up. We don’t have much time.”

They set to work immediately. Jonathan placed the bear trap in the hall, nailing it to the floor to be sure it was sturdy. Nancy reloaded the pistol they had stolen from Jonathan’s dad, while Y/N shuffled around the house, checking the windows and making sure all their defenses were in place, then began pouring a gasoline trail leading to the bear trap.

After everyone finished their contraptions, they gathered in the living room. “Remember—” Jonathan began reciting their plan, glancing between the two girls.

“Straight to Will’s room, and—” Y/N recalled, with Nancy finishing her sentence. “Don’t step on the trap, then wait for the yo-yo to move…” She then glanced to Jonathan who gestured at the lighter in hand, clicking his tongue.

“We light it up.”

“Alright, are we ready?” Jonathan glanced up, the group stood in a tense circle. They each held knives to their palms, hands trembling. The plan was simple but terrifying: lure the Demogorgon with their blood.

“On three,” Jonathan’s voice wavered, betraying his nerves. He took a shaky breath, his eyes lingering on the girls, sensing their hesitation. “You guys don’t have to do this—”

“Jonathan, stop talking.” Y/N interrupted the boy, her voice strained but firm.

“I’m just saying, you guys don’t—” Jonathan tried to argue before Nancy’s voice cut him off.

“Three!” Her sudden shout cut through the tension, sharp and decisive, like the blade they all pressed into their palms. The room erupted into a flurry of movement as they each sliced their skin, blood spilling freely from their hands.

“Holy shit—this is going to scar,” Y/N gasped, clutching her bleeding hand with her uninjured one, trying to shake off the intense, stinging pain. She watched as blood dripped down her wrist and onto her fingers, meeting the floor beneath her.

“Quick, let’s get wrapped up,” Jonathan rushed to the first-aide kit by the couch, urgency creeping into his voice. Nancy winced as she looked down at her own crimson-streaked palm, her face pale yet determined.

The group worked in silence, the eerie quiet only broken by the rustling of bandages and the occasional hiss of pain. Jonathan focused on wrapping Nancy’s hand first, his movements quick but careful. Y/N noticed how delicately he handled Nancy’s wound and the way he looked at her with soft eyes—it was hard to miss.

“Did you hear that?” Nancy asked suddenly, her voice tinged with fear as she glanced toward the window, while Y/N continued bandaging her palm.

“It’s just the wind,” Jonathan replied, though his voice lacked certainty. He kept his eyes on Nancy’s bleeding palm, trying to finish the task at hand while the girl’s gaze darted around the room, her paranoia growing with every growing second.

“Jonathan, are you sure?” Nancy’s voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes wide with fear.

“Don’t worry,” Jonathan tried to reassure the girl, though it sounded like he was trying to convince himself, too. “My mom said that when it comes, the lights speak. They blink… think of them as alarms.”

Y/N nodded, but her unease was clear as she held her bandaged hand toward Jonathan. “Do you think this is tight enough?”

Jonathan glanced at her hand, noting the blood seeping through the white bandages. “Wrap it some more—”

A sudden, thunderous knock echoed through the house, cutting off Jonathan mid-sentence. The sound was so jarring that all three of them jumped, their hearts pounding wildly as they whipped their heads toward the front door. 

For a moment, they were frozen, caught between fight or flight as the reality of their situation hit them full force. A deafening silence followed the knock, each of them holding their breath, waiting for what would come next.

“Jonathan, are you there man? It’s Steve!” The boy’s voice shouted from the other side of the door, and the group looked at each other with panging confusion written all over their expressions. 

“Is Harrington seriously at my house right now?” Jonathan scoffed.

“I just want to talk!” Steve continued pounding on the front door. Y/N shook her head in frustration—mostly disbelief, glancing between Nancy and Jonathan. She stood from her seat, marching toward the front door.

Steve Harrington has the absolute worst timing ever. The door creaked open, revealing the boy. “Hey, Y/N—what are you…” Steve’s voice faltered, his eyes landing on Y/N’s figure. His usual perfect appearance was wild—his face bloodied and bruised from the fight with Jonathan, and his hair tousled and messy.

“Steve, listen to me. I’m serious. You need to leave.” Y/N’s voice was tense, her body angled to block the doorway, preventing him from seeing the chaos inside. She peeked through the crack, her bandaged hand gripping the doorframe.

“No, no—I’m not trying to start anything, okay?” Steve pleaded, his hand resting against the doorframe, eyes wide with desperation.

“Steve,” Y/N raised her brows cautiously, “I don’t care about that. You have to leave, now.”

“No, please listen I–I messed up, okay? I messed up! I just want to make things right. Please,” Steve pleaded, but his words trailed off as his eyes landed on the girl’s bandaged hand resting on the rim of the door, blood seeping through.

“Hey, what happened to your hand? Is that blood?” Steve’s face was etched with genuine concern, reaching out instinctively to examine the wound, but Y/N yanked her injured hand back, tucking it behind her.

“Nothing—it’s nothing. It was an accident, alright?” Y/N snapped, her patience wearing thin. 

Steve Harrington, after all he’d done—was the last person that should be wrapped up in this, and quite frankly, the last face on the entire planet Y/N wanted to see.

Steve’s brows furrowed, his concern shifting to confusion. “Wait—did Jonathan do this? Did he hurt you?” His voice wavered as his mind raced to put the pieces together. Before Y/N could respond, her words caught in her throat, and she watched as Steve’s expression hardened.

Oh shit.

“Let me in!” He demanded, shoving the door with force. Y/N tried to hold him back, but Steve’s determination overpowered her. He stumbled inside, eyes widening as he took in the chaos. His gaze landed on the bear trap, the weapons, and the mess strewn across the house. Nancy and Jonathan stood by the couch, watching the boy cautiously.

“What is all this? What the fuck…” Steve’s voice trailed off with bewilderment. He looked around, the acrid smell of gasoline filling his nose. He barely had time to react before Jonathan rushed up, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

“You need to get out of here!” Jonathan shouted, shaking the boy by his collar. “I’m not asking you—I’m telling you.”

But Steve Harrington’s skull was too thick to get through.

Steve jerked his arm free, glancing down at the floor with disgust. “What is that smell, is that—gasoline?” His voice wavered with disbelief. But before he could process it further, Nancy stepped forward, the sound of a gun clicking catching Steve’s attention—raised and aimed directly at him, while Y/N and Jonathan shared a stunned glance, taking a step back.

“Steve! Get out!” Nancy’s voice cut through the tension, panic edging her words. Steve’s eyes widened as he quickly raised his hands in defense, staring down the barrel of the pistol that was just a few feet away from his face.

“Wait, wait, wait, what is going on?” Steve stammered, attempting to wrap his head around the situation he found himself caught in.

“You have five seconds to get out of here!” Nancy shouted, her eyebrows furrowed together with determination.

“Okay—is this a sick joke? Put the gun down!” Steve’s voice grew louder, his hands held out in defense.

“I’m doing this for you,” Nancy raised her eyebrows at the boy. Steve’s heart thudded in his chest, his breathing heavy. 

“Nancy, seriously! What is—” But before he could finish, the lights above them flickered violently, the hum of electricity faltering. Nancy began counting down from three, with Steve pleading for the girl to stop.

“Nancy!” Jonathan’s sharp voice cut through the girl’s reverie, catching her attention. “Look at the lights!” His finger shot upwards and she followed his gaze—gasping. But Y/N didn’t waste a second. She grabbed a crowbar from the coffee table, her knuckles white as she clutched it while the others followed suit, collecting their weapons.

“Where is it?!” Y/N shouted, spinning in frantic circles as the lights flashed erratically, nearly blinding them.

“Where is what? Easy with that thing!” Steve’s erratic voice followed Y/N’s, watching her group with the others, backs against each other as she clutched her crowbar.

“I don’t see it!” Jonathan yelled out, eyes darting to every corner of the house, squinting to see through the blinding lights. “Hello?! Will someone please explain what the hell is going—” Steve screamed out frantically, demanding answers before getting cut off by a sickening crunch from above as the ceiling buckled. They were met with the horrifyingly tall figure of a monster crawling through—the Demogorgon.

Nancy didn’t hesitate. She began to fire at the monster as it hung in the ceiling through a coat of thick slime, but Jonathan grabbed her arm, dragging her back to the safety of the hallway to follow their original plan. Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, her eyes flicking between her friends retreating and Steve stood frozen in place.

Without thinking, Y/N lunged toward Steve, grabbing onto the boy. Her grip was tight around his hand—double her size, yanking him down the hall as hard as she could. Steve stumbled as he was pulled away, following Y/N’s lead down the hallway—the Demogorgon screeching just behind them.

“Jump!” She shouted through the chaos as she passed the bear trap, and Steve barely registered the warning.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” He screamed, his voice raw with fear as he leaped over the trap, his hand clutching onto Y/N’s as if she were his lifeline.

They stumbled into Will’s bedroom, slamming the door shut behind them with a heavy thud, their hearts hammering in their chests. “Jesus Christ, what the—what the hell was that?” Steve blurted out through his ragged breath, his voice cracking with adrenaline.

“Shut up!” Nancy and Jonathan turned to face the boy, shouting in unison, their voices strained with panic. Nancy looked downward between Steve and Y/N, her eyes instantly locking onto their interlocked hands.

Steve’s breath hitched as he glanced down, suddenly noticing his hand still tightly intertwined with Y/N’s. His fingers, sweaty and trembling, lingered in hers as she shook with fear. Y/N’s heart dropped, and the sudden warmth of Steve’s touch hit her like a jolt of electricity through the panic—she quickly pulled her hand away, clutching it at her side.

Nancy hesitated before she shifted her focus to the door, weapon ready in hand—where the growling of the Demogorgon grew louder with each passing second. The floorboards outside the door creaked, and the walls seemed to tremble under the creature's weight, its shadow looming beneath the door as they held their breath.

Suddenly—the lights above stopped flickering, plunging the room into an unnerving stillness as the electricity hummed still. The relentless sounds beyond the door ceased, replaced by silence. The group let out a breath they didn’t even know they were holding, attempting to ground themselves.

“Do you hear anything?” Y/N whispered, her voice barely more than a breath as she glanced between the others.

Jonathan narrowed his eyes, trying to listen for any sign of the monster. He sighed heavily, the sound filled with both relief and dread. “No, nothing.”

After a few moments, Jonathan hesitated before opening the bedroom door, taking the lead with his bat readied. He peeked his head out, scanning the shadows. The others followed close behind, every creak of the floorboards underneath their feet thunderous in the silence, with each passing second becoming more and more unpredictable.

As the group cautiously entered the living room, their heads darted around as they took in the silence. The spot where the ceiling collapsed had vanished without a trace, leaving just a crack as if it were remnants of some sort of leak.

The Demogorgon was nowhere to be found.

Y/N turned around, snapping out of her thoughts to see Steve muttering to himself, “This is crazy, this is crazy, this is fucking crazy!” His brown eyes were wild with panic, hands trembling while he paced in frantic circles.

He suddenly paused, with desperation flashing in his eyes—before lunging for the Byers’ home phone mounted on the wall, his fingers fumbling to dial 911. Y/N, adrenaline coursing through her veins, stormed towards him, yanking the phone from his grip.

She could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on her as she forcefully chucked the wireless phone across the room, the device clattering against the wall and shattering the tense silence. Steve looked at her, stunned, his erratic breathing mirroring the chaos in his mind.

“What are you, crazy!?” Steve's voice trembled as he held out his hands, desperation and fear etched on his bruised face. His eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of the looming threat. 

“It’s going to come back! So you need to leave, right now.” Y/N shouted, her voice laced with sternness as she fixed him with a determined stare. She watched as Steve hesitated—his eyes flickering between her, Nancy and Jonathan, and the front door.

With no words spoken, Steve made a sudden beeline toward the door, his footsteps echoing loudly in the silence of the room. As the boy hurriedly exited the house, the rest of the group gathered close in the living room, their backs against each other, eyes darting nervously in every direction.

“Is it going to come back?” Nancy questioned, her back pressed firmly between Y/N and Jonathan’s. Before anyone could answer, the lights above them began to flicker erratically, with wild shadows dancing across the walls. 

The Christmas lights strung around the room blinked in a dizzying array of colors, their intensity almost blinding in the dimness. Tension hung heavy in the air, their hearts pounding in sync with the erratic pulsing of the lights. They took labored breaths, looking between every corner of the house the eye could spot.

“Come on, you son of a bitch!” Jonathan readied his bat, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the base.

“Where is it?!” Y/N shouted, clutching her crowbar in hand.

"I don’t see—“ Nancy's voice faltered as the electricity abruptly cut out, plunging them into pitch-black darkness, leaving the group with just a few feet of visibility in front of them. A heavy silence settled over the house, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing and the faint rustling of the wind outside.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she cautiously turned around, examining her surroundings with what she could see, the air thick with dread. A strange grumbling noise sounded closely, and she narrowed her eyes, focusing on the odd figure before her—until she realized what it was. 

Just in front of her loomed a monstrous figure—its grotesque, faceless visage and pallid, slimy skin, gleamed in the dim light, a chilling reminder of the imminent danger she faced just feet away. 

Y/N's sudden scream pierced the air, her terror echoing through the house as Jonathan and Nancy whipped around to the scene unfolding before them. The Demogorgon moved with quick and terrifying speed, locking onto Jonathan and tackling him to the ground, sending the boy’s bat clattering away in the chaos.

Gasping for breath, Jonathan struggled to regain his bearings as Y/N, fueled by adrenaline, swung her crowbar at the creature in a desperate attempt to help her friend. The metallic clang echoed against its ribs in the dimly lit room, and they could only watch as the monster suddenly halted its advances on the boy.

The Demogorgon turned its attention towards Y/N and Nancy—its pale, slimy skin reflecting the dim lights of the room. It stood tall and menacing, its faceless visage haunting in the darkness. Jonathan, barely conscious, could only watch helplessly from the floor as the creature slowly advanced on his friends with deliberate—almost mocking steps, its presence dreadful.

“Nancy, do something…” Y/N’s voice shook, backing up cautiously beside her friend. 

She watched in the corner of her eye as Nancy raised the pistol she held in hand, aiming the firearm at the monster. Its face opened up, revealing the horrifying sight of a shape almost like a flower blooming underneath its flesh—with slimy and thin sharp teeth covering every inch beneath its skin. “Go to hell, you son of a bitch!” Nancy screamed as she pulled the trigger, the room lighting up with each round that went off. Gunshots echoed through the house, but dread filled inside them as the bullets had no effect—the monster’s skin was too thick. It kept advancing, making slow steps toward the pair. Nancy fired again, each step backward more frantic, desperately hoping the bullets would make some kind of difference until an empty click sounded. Heart racing, she fumbled to reload, only to realize she was out of bullets.

Their backs met the wall behind them, defenseless, only able to watch as the Demogorgon inched closer. Its rancid, deathlike stench filled the air, horrifying their senses. Y/N shut her eyes tightly, her breath hitching as the creature's growl rumbled just inches away. Suddenly, a hard shove sent her sprawling to the floor, landing on the back of her head harshly. She looked up, heart pounding, only to be met with the faceless monster towering above her—her mouth forming into a silent scream.

Her body trembled as dread settled into her bones, each shallow breath scraping her lungs, desperate and thin. Time seemed to slow into eternity as she stared at death just inches away from her face—the monster’s foul breath fanning across her skin, with thick, wet slime dripping off its mouth, splattering on her forehead. Her fingers clawed at the floor, searching for something—anything, to save her. 

The only thing she felt was the cold certainty that this was it.

A guttural grunt broke through the tension, snapping Y/N back to the present as a heavy thwack echoed off the Demogorgon’s thick skin. In a blur, the monster above her shifted its attention and she gasped—barely able to process the sight above her. Steve Harrington, breathing hard—eyes blazing with something between terror and fury stood before her, ready to take on the monster. 

Steve Harrington had just saved her life. 

The boy’s movements were much different than a few moments ago when he had scrambled out of the house in an escape—his body now ready to fight. Y/N could only watch as he dodged and weaved the Demogorgon’s relentless attacks, each move a desperate dance for survival.

With every opening, he swung the bat Jonathan had dropped, the wood and nails cracking against the monster's slimy skin. He drove it back, blow after blow, the force reverberating up his arms. The Demogorgon stumbled into the hallway, Steve’s strikes landing on its stomach, doubling it over. With a final, powerful swing, he forced it into the bear trap with a resounding snap.

“He’s in the trap!”

Nancy rushed to Jonathan, who was still recovering on the floor, urging him to get up and offered her hand to help. Steve quickly shuffled over from the hall to Y/N’s side, grabbing her hand and helping her up from the ground as she trembled. 

“You okay?” The boy was quick to ask, his eyes examining the girl as he delicately held her steady by her waist.

“I think so,” She breathed, nodding, ignoring the sting on the back of her head as she shifted her attention to her friends in the hall standing before the Demogorgon—preparing to finally kill the damn thing.

They watched the creature thrash around wildly in the bear trap, writhing against the jagged metal. Without wasting a second, Steve and Y/N rushed into the hallway. Jonathan fumbled in his pockets, pulling out a lighter. With a flick, he ignited it, then hurled it toward the monster, flames catching instantly on the trail of gasoline leading to the trapped beast.

The entire hall erupted into flames, the roar of the fire deafening. Heat blasted into their faces, singeing their skin and filling the air with the acrid smell of burning. The group shielded their eyes from the intense light, watching in horror as the Demogorgon writhed within the flames, its agonizing shrieks piercing the air.

Jonathan bolted from the hall and returned with a fire extinguisher, dousing the flames. A thick, white fog enveloped the hall, causing them to cough and squint against the harsh chemical mist. As the smoke cleared, they cautiously approached the bear trap in the charred hall, hearts pounding. The monster had disappeared, and no trace of it was left in the trap.

“Where the hell did it go?” Nancy’s voice trembled, barely above a whisper.

“It has to be dead—it has to be,” Jonathan panted, his eyes frantically scanning the space where the monster had been.

“Jesus—do you think it just melted into the fire or something?” Y/N grimaced, looking at leftovers of rancid skin melting on the trap’s metal. Suddenly, the Christmas lights hanging above them began to flicker to life softly, a section at a time toward the group as if something was walking in their direction. 

Everyone’s heart stopped, the question lingering in their mind whether the monster had survived on the other side. They backed up cautiously as the light slowly approached them, but something was different about it—the energy was calmer.

“Do you think that’s it?” Steve questioned, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I—I don’t know, it seems…” Jonathan tried to find the right words, stuttering slightly. “Different.” Y/N finished the boy's sentence. The lights then continued and crossed over the group’s heads, a trail of electricity lighting up toward the front door. They followed the light outside on the porch, watching a street light in the distance flicker off and on as they caught their breath, slight relief filling the air around them.

“Where’s it going?” Nancy murmured, watching the faint light in the distance.

“I don’t think that’s the monster.” Jonathan’s eyes narrowed as the group shared uneasy glances.

Realization dawned on Y/N, her eyes widening. “Hopper and Joyce.” 

Nancy turned to her, concern etched on her expression. “Do you think they’ve found Will?” 

“I sure as hell hope so,” Y/N sighed, letting out a shaky breath she didn’t know she was holding.

After a few moments of silence, the group began to retreat inside the house, but Y/N lingered on the porch. She gripped the railing and let her nerves settle, attempting to ground herself. Nancy and Jonathan made it inside, but Steve hesitated—pausing in front of the doorway, concern flickering in his eyes.

“You coming inside?” Steve’s voice was gentle, almost hesitant as Y/N stood on the edge of the porch, her gaze fixed on the shadowed woods. Her back was to him, shoulders tense, a slight tremble betraying her steady stance.

“Y/N?” he murmured, resting a firm but careful hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

Y/N turned slowly, wiping at her eyes. For a fleeting moment, Steve thought he’d caught her crying—but then he saw the spark of a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. Suddenly, she burst out laughing. She knows she shouldn’t, it’s absurd—but she couldn’t help it. Steve blinked, then found himself chuckling too, shaking his head. 

"Holy shit! I can't believe Steve Harrington just saved my life from a fucking monster!" Y/N exclaimed, her laughter infectious as her nervous system took over.

Steve smirked, looking out into the dark. "Oh boy, what would you do without me?” He muttered, shaking his head as he leaned against the porch frame beside her.

Y/N rolled her eyes, still grinning. “Guess I’d be a goner,” she replied, shoving her hands in her pockets. But as her laughter faded, a quiet settled between them, and she found herself glancing at him, studying the faint bruises and scratches on his face. "Didn’t think you’d come back, honestly.”

He could feel Y/N’s eyes on him. “Honestly, I didn’t think I would either,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “When I saw the lights flickering in the house… I was frozen. Part of me wanted to run, to save myself.” He paused, furrowing his eyebrows together as he softly shook his head.

“But then I thought about all of you inside. I guess it was finally time to stop thinking about myself for once.” He met Y/N’s eyes, hoping she could see the sincerity in his words.

“I get it, actually,” Y/N spoke, and Steve glanced at her, surprised. “You saved my life, Steve. I don’t know how to thank you for that. I know it’s not easy—showing up like this. Especially when people don’t expect it of you.”

He nodded, letting out a small sigh. “I mean… everyone’s got me pegged as this guy, right? King Steve,” he quotes, “the guy who throws parties, dates pretty girls, and looks good doing it. No one asks for more, and it’s easier to just… live up to it,” He paused, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“But I’m tired of everyone acting like they know me better than I know myself, especially my old man. Maybe if I look good enough on the outside, it’ll cover up all the other shit, y’know?” He spoke as he fidgeted with his hands.

Y/N’s gaze softened, her own expression guarded. “Yeah, well, if it makes you feel any better, you’re not the only one who’s had to play pretend.”

Steve looked at her, his curiosity piqued, and she hesitated before going on. “After my mom died, my dad was never himself again. He… wasn’t the type you’d want around. So, I learned early on that letting people in only gets you hurt.”

“Sounds familiar, but that’s not always true,” Steve murmured, their eyes locking in a long, weighted silence. After a moment, Y/N broke it, her tone soft but genuine. “For what it’s worth, you’re not so bad after all, Harrington.”

“Yeah? Well, you’re not too shabby yourself, Smith,” he replied, a small smile creeping onto his face as they leaned against the porch frame, earning a chuckle from the girl.

“Friends?” Steve straightened up, turning to face Y/N, his hand outstretched with a hopeful expression.

“Friends,” Y/N nodded, meeting his gaze as she took his hand in a firm shake. Y/N was grateful she finally got to see him—not Steve “the asshole” Harrington and most definitely not Steve “the king” Harrington.

Just Steve.

𝐇𝐚𝐰𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥

The moment the teens arrived at the hospital after receiving word Will was rescued, Jonathan was the first to sprint inside, rushing to ask reception where his little brother was. He was the only one who could see Will being immediate family, so the others retreated to the waiting room.

Nancy was the first to rush inside when she spotted her family, with Mike running from his seat and colliding into her embrace, almost knocking the girl down. “What happened?” Nancy held the boy’s shoulders, watching as his lips quivered and tears filled his eyes.

“El…” He looked up at his sister, until she pulled him into another tight embrace, holding the back of his head in an attempt to comfort him. The look in his eyes said it all—Eleven was gone.

The girl who helped them find Will was gone. That stung at Y/N’s heart—she’d only met her briefly, but she knew someone that young didn’t deserve what she went through. It wasn’t fair.

“We should go sit, yeah?” Steve’s voice broke through Y/N’s focus, gesturing toward the empty seats in the waiting room, his voice gentle. The girl nodded absently, before scanning the room once more—her heart plummeting to her feet. Hopper was nowhere to be found. 

Suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway behind her. She turned, her heart leaping as she recognized the man. It was the Chief of Police—Hopper, approaching with a weary but relieved expression. “Hey, kiddo,” he spoke softly, his eyes filled with relief at the sight of the girl.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise and without hesitation she made quick, raced steps toward the man, her footsteps echoing in the corridor. She collided with Hopper, wrapping her arms around him tightly, as if he were her lifeline.

"I was so scared," she whispered, her voice slightly trembling.

Hopper held the girl close, his own emotions threatening to swell within him. "It's okay, I'm right here. I’m not planning on going anywhere, kid." He reassured her, his hand holding the back of Y/N’s head. They stood there, holding each other—grateful to find each other in one piece.

Y/N didn’t know what she would do if she lost him.

Suddenly, voices broke the stillness from inside the waiting room. “Guys, guys! He’s awake! Will’s awake!” Mike shouted, excitement spilling from him as he gathered his friends. Y/N pulled back from Hopper and watched as they bolted from their seats past her, turning a corner and sprinting to Will’s room. 

She was beyond grateful the boy was okay. Though the guilt still lingered in the back of her mind—if she had stayed with Will, and insisted on biking him home, none of this would have happened. No one would be hurt.

She was pulled out of her thoughts as Nancy suddenly brushed past her. She looked pale and fragile, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she hurried down the hall. Y/N glanced at Hopper, then at her friend disappearing around the corner.

“I’ll go check on her,” she murmured, concern pulling her forward.

Hopper gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be in the waiting room, kid.”

Y/N nodded, then followed after Nancy, her footsteps echoing softly in the quiet corridor. She rounded the corner just in time to see the girl heading toward the restrooms. Before Nancy could slip inside, Y/N called out gently, “Nancy?”

The girl turned around, her expression bitter and eyebrows knit together. “Are you okay?” Y/N asked gently, her arms crossing over her chest as she studied her friend’s face.

Nancy hesitated, her eyes flickering away from her friend’s. “Yeah, it’s just…” she trailed off, pausing. “I wish Barb were here, too,” she finally admitted, her voice trembling. The words hung heavy in the air, a painful reminder of the friend they had lost. 

Barb was gone. 

Y/N’s chest tightened, feeling the ache behind Nancy’s words. “Me too. I’m so sorry,” she said softly, stepping closer. She unfolded her arms, reaching out to pull Nancy into a comforting embrace. They held each other in silence, Nancy clinging tightly, as if afraid to let go of the last person who could understand her loss.

After a long moment, Nancy pulled back, her eyes clouded with guilt. She looked down, unable to meet Y/N’s gaze. “It was my fault,” she whispered, almost as if admitting it to herself.

“Nancy—” Y/N began, ready to reassure her, that she didn’t deserve to take on that kind of guilt. But Nancy shook her head, cutting her off.

“You don’t understand,” she continued, her voice thick with regret. “Steve invited us to a party. I didn’t want to go alone, so I… I made Barb come with me. I thought it would be fun—just one night.” She bit her lip, voice wavering. 

“But then… I ditched her. I ditched her to be with him, and I didn’t even realize she was gone until it was too late.” Her hand covered her mouth as she finished her sentence, as if speaking it made the guilt unbearable.

Y/N processed Nancy’s words, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. Nancy had never mentioned going to parties with Steve, much less bringing Barb along. She took a breath, her voice gentle but tinged with hurt. “Nancy… why didn’t you tell me?”

Nancy finally met her gaze, eyes wet with unshed tears. “Because I left her alone. I was supposed to be her friend, and I just… left her.” She paused, her eyebrows knit together. “I don’t think I will ever be able to forgive myself for that.”

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in the back of her throat. She could see the guilt etched on Nancy’s face, the way her hands trembled ever so slightly as she held back tears. What could she say to ease that kind of pain? Nothing felt right, nothing seemed enough.

An uneasy silence settled between them, thick and heavy. Finally, Nancy dropped her gaze, her voice barely above a whisper. “I need a minute.” Without waiting for a response, she turned and disappeared into the bathroom, the door closing quietly behind her, leaving Y/N standing alone in the empty hall.

Her stomach twisted. She knew Nancy’s pain, understood that kind of guilt—and hated there was nothing she could do to ease it. Losing someone like that wasn’t a wound that healed, it was the kind that lingered, carving a mark that would stay with a person forever.

𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟒𝐭𝐡 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟑

Soft snow fell gently over Hawkins, blanketing the trees in pristine white. The night had settled in, bringing a cold chill that lingered in the crisp winter air. Christmas lights and decorations adorned neighborhood houses, bringing the holiday spirit. Jonathan and Y/N arrived at the Wheeler’s for a quick hello, and to pick up Will.

The harsh chill bit at Y/N underneath her jacket, and she folded her arms for warmth as Jonathan knocked on the front door. After a moment, Mrs. Wheeler greeted them, her face lighting up in a broad smile. “Jonathan! Y/N! Merry Christmas, come in!” Her voice was warm and familiar, instantly making them feel at home.

The pair thanked Mrs. Wheeler as they stepped inside, the warm air greeting them as they brushed snow off their jackets. Jonathan made light footsteps past the kitchen toward the basement to retrieve Will, but Y/N lingered at the entrance of the home, hesitating. She glanced inside the kitchen, seeing Mrs. Wheeler’s baked Christmas goods made with love. 

The girl took in a deep breath before treading toward the basement. As she turned a corner, about to follow Jonathan's path, she nearly bumped into Steve, who had appeared in the hallway. His hands were tucked awkwardly in his pockets, and he looked as though he'd been waiting for her. "Hey," he said, voice low.

“Hey,” Y/N breathed, meeting Steve’s gaze. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Truth is, ever since Will had been brought back home, nothing had been the same between any of them.

A few weeks after Will returned home, Y/N had been certain that Jonathan and Nancy would get together, though it never happened. She wasn't entirely sure why, there were a countless amount of reasons—but she saw how it crushed the boy when he and Y/N spotted Nancy and Steve making out in the school hallway, almost as if nothing bad had ever happened.

And Y/N would be lying if she said it didn't crush something in her, too. Steve and Nancy looked happy, sure. Happy in a way that made her feel both relieved and, unexpectedly—a little hollow. 

“I, uh, never got the chance to thank you—for what you said. That day in the alley, you know, the fight with Jonathan.” Steve tumbled over his words as he rubbed the back of his neck, glancing down at Y/N who gave a tight smile.

“Yeah, sure,” she replied, swallowing. “I’m really glad everything worked out for you, Steve.” 

An awkward silence stretched between them, neither of them quite knowing how to bridge the gap. Finally, Y/N cleared her throat, stepping away. "I should probably get going," she muttered, turning to wait for Jonathan and Will at the front door.

But before she could leave, Steve’s voice stopped her.

“Y/N?” He called out, stopping her in her tracks. She paused, glancing back at him.

"I'm... sorry," he began, his voice steady but filled with sincerity. “For everything. I shouldn’t have broken Jonathan’s camera, and I shouldn’t have said those things back in the alley. I was wrong.” His words hung in the air, and when Y/N met his gaze, she saw something genuine in his eyes, just like that night at the Byers house.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Is King Steve realizing he might not be a king after all?” She teased, watching with amusement as he winced at the nickname, waving her off.

"Please, don’t call me that," he groaned, rolling his eyes as he stepped closer, closing the distance between them. "And, uh, Carol and Tommy? Yeah, they turned out to be real assholes." 

Y/N shrugged, her tone light but knowing. “You were an asshole, Steve Harrington.” She pointed a finger at the boy’s chest, before giving him a slight, playful shove.

Steve’s shoulders slumped slightly as he gave a small, regretful shrug. “I guess we all were, and I’m sorry.” Y/N’s lips curved into a grin as she met his gaze, her eyes softening. “Apology accepted.”

Steve nodded, the corners of his mouth pulling into a small, genuine smile, one that reached his eyes. “Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he said quietly, his tone almost shy.

“Merry Christmas, Steve,” she replied, her smile lingering for a moment longer before she turned, heading for the front door—giving the boy one last glance over her shoulder.

As Y/N made her way past the kitchen with the scent of Mrs. Wheeler's baked goods filling the air, she spotted Jonathan and Will waiting near the front door. She was about to continue when Nancy suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs, a neatly-wrapped gift clutched tightly to her chest.

"Jonathan, wait up!" Nancy called out, her voice urgent as she hurried down the stairs toward him.

She stopped in front of Jonathan, a bright, warm smile spreading across her face. "Merry Christmas," she said, holding out the neatly wrapped gift to him. Jonathan hesitated, looking from the gift to her, his fingers brushing the wrapping before he took it, still unsure.

"Thanks, but—I didn’t get you anything. I feel bad," he admitted, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he looked down at the gift in his hands.

Nancy waved it off with a soft laugh. "No, it’s not really a present," she said, her tone light as she shrugged. "It’s… well, you’ll see."

Jonathan's brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face as he glanced at the gift in his hands, unsure what she meant. Before he could respond, Nancy stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on his chest. She leaned in and pressed a quick, unexpected kiss to his cheek. Jonathan blinked, his face flushing deeper as he pulled back slightly—caught off guard by the gesture.

Y/N took a quiet step forward, her presence breaking the tension. She met Nancy’s gaze as she stood beside Jonathan, offering a small, awkward smile. Her eyes flickered briefly between the pair before cutting through the silence. “Merry Christmas, Nancy.”

“Merry Christmas. I’ll see you guys later,” She gave a small smile before walking off toward the living room, sharing one last glance with Jonathan. He then looked toward Y/N and Will with a slight blush left on his cheeks, “you guys ready?”

Inside Jonathan’s car, Y/N sat in the back seat, her arms wrapped tightly around herself in an attempt to ward off the chill that crept in through the windows as the car warmed up, with a soft, steady snowfall creeping outside. Will sat in the passenger seat, his gaze darting between Jonathan and the small present nestled in his lap.

“I’ll drop you back off at Hopper’s, Y/N. We all buckled up?” Jonathan asked, his voice warm despite the cold.

Y/N nodded, offering him a grateful smile. “That sounds good, thank you.” Her eyes lingered on Jonathan for a moment, meeting his gaze with a flicker of appreciation before he turned back to the steering wheel and started the engine.

“Yep,” Will chimed in from the front seat, giving a quick nod. Then, his curiosity got the best of him, and he turned to the gift. “Can I open it?”

Jonathan grinned, a playful glint in his eye. “Yeah, sure.”

Will eagerly tore into the wrapping, his fingers quick and excited. As the paper fell away, the box inside was revealed—a brand-new, latest edition camera. He held it out so Jonathan could see, glancing at him with an awestruck smile. “Pretty cool,” The boy beamed, admiring the gadget.

Jonathan and Y/N exchanged knowing a look, both of them knowing exactly where it had come from.

Steve Harrington. 

𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐫

As Jonathan’s car slowed to a stop outside Hopper’s trailer, Y/N pulled her jacket tightly around herself, bracing against the chilly night air. Snow was still falling, blanketing the ground and trees in white. The lake once flowing with water was now frozen solid. She thanked Jonathan, wishing him and Will a good night before closing the door softly behind her.

As Y/N entered the trailer, the warmth greeted her immediately, the fireplace crackling to life in the living room. There were a few holiday decorations Hopper had put up with Y/N, and a small Christmas tree lighting up the corner of the room. Hopper was sitting on the couch, his expression somber but soft, as if he’d been waiting for her. Y/N slipped off her coat, hanging it by the door, before approaching him.

“Hey, kid,” Hopper greeted her, his voice low, a hint of something weighing on it.

“Hey, Hopper,” she replied, offering him a faint smile as she took the seat across from him.

After a pause, the man cleared his throat. “I wanted to tell you sooner, but... Well, it’s been busy. So... I got some news.”

Y/N felt anxiety creep in the pit of her chest, settling itself inside her as she sat across from Hopper. If this was what she thought it was about, she had been pushing down the sickening thought for months. The anticipation gnawed at her. “News about...?”

“Your father,” Hopper said gently, watching the girl carefully.

Y/N’s breath caught in the back of her throat, her chest tightening. They’d been waiting to hear something since the court hearing. The silence from her father—Thomas, had been telling, but still, she’d clung to the hope that he’d at least care enough to reach out. 

She didn’t know what she would do if she had to go back to live with her father—knowing it would only be a certain amount of time before he snapped again and lost another job and they moved far away from Hawkins, a place where she had found a home, repeating the endless cycle once more.

He was still her father after all, but she was starting to wonder if maybe—just maybe, she could belong somewhere else—somewhere far away from him.

Hopper cleared his throat, breaking through the heavy silence settled between them. “He didn’t show up to the court hearing today.” 

Y/N’s heart dropped to the bottom of her stomach. Her father, ultimately, just let her go to the state. No explanation—didn’t show up for her, like she hadn’t even mattered. “What?”

Hopper watched her, his face gentle with understanding. “Listen, I know that’s hard to hear. It’s a hell of a thing someone could do.”

“Yeah, it’s just...” Y/N hesitated, then took a deep breath. “I don’t know why I thought he’d at least try, you know? I guess... I just hoped maybe he’d want me.”

Hopper’s expression softened further, a sadness in his eyes that mirrored hers. “Sometimes people are like that. Selfish. They don’t do what’s right, even when it’s right in front of them. But that doesn’t mean you’re not worth more than he could ever understand.”

Y/N’s lips trembled. She couldn’t find the right words to say.

“Listen, kiddo. I can pull a few strings, and keep you here as long as I can while you’re in custody of the state since your father didn’t show.” Hopper began, pausing as he observed the utter defeat etched on Y/N’s expression.

She didn’t want to leave this all behind—she couldn’t.

"And while you’re here,” Hopper continued, adjusting himself on the couch, rubbing his hand absently over his mustache, “we could talk about something more… permanent. Maybe adoption, if that’s something you’d want.”

"Adoption?" Y/N repeated, the word barely a whisper, her gaze meeting Hopper’s. 

“Yeah, kid.” Hopper gave the girl a warm smile—one that didn’t show itself too often. “And that’s if you’re comfortable with it, and of course, it’ll take time for both of us to think about it. Sound good to you?”

Y/N took a breath, feeling something in her chest finally settle. "That sounds… really good," she breathed, a genuine smile breaking through the uncertainty.

“I’m glad,” Hopper grinned through his mustache, leaning forward as he ruffled Y/N’s hair, his large hand playfully tousling it until she let out a small laugh, swatting his hand away before he spoke. “There’s something else I’ll fill you in on, too. Good news.”

Y/N glanced at him as she fixed her hair, trying to flatten down the frizz. “What is it?”

Hopper exhaled, glancing around as though to make sure they were really alone. “I’ve... been looking into a few things lately. Some sightings and rumors—small, but there might be something there,” he paused. “It’s about El.”

“El?” Y/N’s eyes widened. 

Eleven. The girl who had saved them all, the one they’d thought was gone forever.

Hopper nodded. “Nothing’s for sure. But, I’ve got a feeling she might still be out there… hanging on.”

And Y/N hoped he was right. It tugged at her heart. After everything Eleven had done for everyone—what she’d been through at her age… the girl deserved a second chance at life. It wasn’t fair.

"And you know... how have your dreams been, kid?" Hopper snapped Y/N out of thought, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

They hadn't exactly stopped, but they were better than the last few months, especially when everything was going on.

"Haven't been having very many lately," Y/N shrugged, "so it's been fine."

“Good. Guess we should call it a night, huh?” Hopper said finally, giving a tired stretch, his arms rising above his head. “Can’t be staying up all night waiting on miracles.”

Y/N chuckled softly, nodding. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” She stood, brushing her hands against her jeans before glancing out the window where the snow continued to fall, blanketing the trailer in quiet white.

Hopper moved to stand by her, looking out into the dark, peaceful night. After a moment, he opened his arms in a rare invitation, his voice softening. “Merry Christmas, kid.”

Y/N looked up at him, a small smile spreading across her face as she stepped into his embrace. “Merry Christmas, Hopper.”

The truth is, nothing would be the same again. Y/N knew that. Between her life being at stake, and discovering monsters and superpowers are real against all odds—she didn’t need to ask for anything else. All she needed was right here, these people, in this town.

Maybe Hawkins wasn’t too terrible after all.

────────────────────────────────────────────

worlds apart navigation previous chapter

taglist: @anqelically @cupofjoekeery @steviespookie @hailqueenconquer @just-tiredman @x-theolivia @fuckshitslover @uselessnewt @kitdjarin1 @newyorkangelbaby

[dark-hoodie-thoughts]

Hour Of Comfort

Requested by: @cupophrogs

Bunzo would be more fidgety and silent the employees screams haunt him, the new found silence in the factory would change him.

He would spend his time in the memory room or with you, he would avoid the others everytime he sees them he remembers the things they did, he did.

Bunzo would cling to you everytime he's around you he'd listen to you intensely, he'll try anything to forget the thing they call 'the hour of joy'.

He regrets it almost everyday, bunzo loved when the kids would come and play, he loved to see you help and play with them but now everything is silent and dirty.

Bunzo would try and find things he could do that keeps his mind off of it and keep to himself when he feels venerable even though you tell him not too he feels like a burden.

After a while bunzo slowly returns to his former self he would branch out to the others like mommy and kissy and he would spend more time with you.

Bunzo would cuddle you each night sometimes holding you tighter then the last when the silence gets to him, you get him and comfort him.

He would open up to you more and try to get out of the corner he kept himself in for soo long and when he finally gets out, feeling back to normal he'll thank you and praise you for sticking by him.