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whocaresstillthelouvre · 4 months ago

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Wonderwall

Rating: Teen Pairing: No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 4,550 Summary: Your ex boyfriend Simon is marrying Sabrina, the woman he left you for. You were sure you'd have have a date in time for his wedding... too bad you were wrong. Once again. your best friend Maria has to save the day by letting you use her handsome, single brother-in-law that owes her a favor as your date. Warnings: fluff, idk what's going on with me but there's so much fluff, soft joel, fake wedding date, rom com vibes, crying over a broken vibrator, no outbreak, maria and tommy are married, sarah and kevin live, british ex boyfriend, reader and joel are close in age (reader is 36, joel is 40), alcohol, i know the gif is marcus pike but i can't stop seeing young joel in this gif, anyways here's wonderwall, no use of y/n, not beta read

A/N: This was written for @justagalwhowrites' Joel Miller Birthday Celebration. Thank you to the always wonderful @ohheypedrito for suggesting the fake dating trope when I asked her what to write.

Masterlist

Fizzy mimosas, fluffy pancakes, crispy hash browns, and sweet maple syrup. Brunch on Sundays with Maria has been a long standing tradition for the two of you. Fifteen years of friendship kept stronger by always promising to make time for each other no matter what is going on in your lives.

These days, Maria’s raising a toddler while building a very successful career in the Austin district attorney's office whereas last night you cried over your vibrator dying while trying to pull an orgasm out of you for an endorphin rush. God knows you need one.

You’ve been in a hole since the arrival of Simon’s wedding invitation. The man you spent your most youthful and fulfilling years with is now marrying Sabrina, the beautiful co-worker he crashed your relationship for. Yeah, yeah, your twenty year partnership was already headed for the cliff, but her perky tits and pouty lips sure did speed up the demise.

“So, Simon’s wedding is next weekend, how do you feel?” Maria interrogates from across the table.

“Fine!” you stuff a pancake triangle into your mouth. “It’s fine! I’m fine!”

“Mm,” she lifts a skeptical eyebrow. Why do you lie to her? She makes three figures locking away liars, she can spot them a mile away. “Let me guess, you still don’t have a date?”

“Ugh, no, why did I mark two on the RSVP?”

“I told you not to,” Maria shakes her head

“Yeah, but, I-I want to show him I’m doing great without him.”

“Babe,” Maria grabs your hand and squeezes it, “I say this with all the love in my heart… you’re not doing great.”

“I knoooow!” you sigh, closing your eyes. “I just thought… I’d show up in my pretty dress with a hot man on my arm and show Simon I’m happy and fulfilled without his love.”

“But you don’t ha–”

“Please, I know. I just– I’m happy for him in some really odd way but I also want to be… happy for myself.”

“Okay,” she nods before taking a deep breath, “here’s what I’m going to do for you. You know Joel?”

“Your… brother-in-law?”

“Yes, he owes me a favor, soooo, he’s going to be your date,” she sits back folding her arms across her chest with a smug smirk. “He’s handsome as hell and a good man but he’s very quiet and intimidating to those who don’t know him. He’s perfect for this situation.”

You do know Joel… just not very well at all. There have been random run-ins at Miller family parties, but nothing more than a quick “hello” and “how are you?” exchanged between the two of you. He seems the opposite of your Dartmouth educated, polo playing yuppie of an ex. “Yoo hoo,” Maria waves her hand in front of your face catching your attention. “Does that work for you?”

“Oh, sorry, yeah, I think… it does,” a relieved smile lifts your face.

Maria has, once again, fixed your problem.

—-

RING… RING… RING…

Your fingers nervously tap against the countertop. “Come on, pick uuup, pick uuuup, pick uuu–”

“Miller,” a deep voice answers.

“H-Hi, uh, Joel?” You feel a third your age, like you’re right back in middle school calling the cute boy in your science class because your friend dared you.

“Speaking.”

“Hey, uh, you’re my wedding date? Maria… she gave me your number so we can plan?”

“Oh, yes,” his voice softens. “Saturday, right?”

“Yeah, uh… I think it might be good to go over a story for us before the big day.”

“Right,” he chuckles, “I’m all ears.”

—-

Your eyes roam down your notes from the call. “So, we formally met at Kevin’s graduation party. I call you ‘honey’, our first date was to a movie and then to pizza. We’ve been together for a little over a year. You hate sushi and love tamales. You don’t like water slides. You play the guitar. You have a daughter named Sarah who’s a senior in high school. You own a construction company with Tommy… I think that’s about right?”

"Believe so," the bass of his quiet voice causes goosebumps to pebble your skin. If he's doing this to you over the phone, what will the wedding be like?

"Okay," you settle against your sofa, "and for me?"

Papers shuffle before Joel clears his throat. “Hm, okay. I asked Tommy for your number after Kevin’s graduation party. You work at an insurance company, but you dream of owning your own bookstore one day. You love mashed potatoes. I call you 'baby.' Your favorite color is bronze. You’re a night owl forced to be an early bird. You love Taylor Swift unapologetically. You like staying over at my home because your favorite coffee place delivers to my house.”

“Perfect. I know this is totally weird and all, but, thanks for doing this. Sometimes I allow my pride to sabotage me... and Maria has to come in and save me.”

“She’s good at that.”

“Thanks again Joel.”

“You’re welcome,” his voice feels you with warmth. “I’ll pick you up on Saturday.”

“Yes, Saturday. Until then, have a good week.”

“You too.”

After saying goodbye, you hang up with a plume of butterflies in your stomach.

—

“Okay! Get ready!” you shout from behind your bathroom door.

Your Sunday brunch date with Maria has been moved up to a Saturday afternoon primping and preening spree in your home as she helps you get ready to watch the once love of your life marry someone else.

You step out of the bathroom to find Maria sitting cross-legged on your bed. As soon as she sees you, she leans forward with wide eyes.

"Wow," she breathes, her voice filled with awe. "I mean, seriously, wow."

"Really?" you ask, giving a twirl in your mauve dress, adorned with a delicate print of sequined flowers blooming across the bodice.

“Really,” her eyebrow angles as she nods, “I can’t wait for Miller to have to deal with keeping his cool around you.”

“What?”

Maria just smiles, “Let’s just say, you look hot, that’s all I’m going to say.”

___

A shiny black truck pulls into your driveway. Panic jolts through you as you watch the door swing open from your front window. Out steps Joel Miller, impeccably dressed in a black suit. Oh good lord–he’s your date. Like, date date, as in the guy you’re going to be spending the rest of the night with. The anxiety over Simon and Sabrina’s wedding fades into the background, replaced by the overwhelming challenge of maintaining your composure in the presence of someone who looks that stunning in a tuxedo.

The doorbell rings.

Okay, okay, you got this.

A gust of pleasant autumn air hits your skin when you open the door. Oh good LORD, he looks incredible. His hair is longer than you remember, falling in gentle waves you dream of running your fingers through. His beard is neatly trimmed, though slightly patchy with a strong mustache that frames his plush lips. He has a shy smile, his dimple makes a divot you want to press your finger into. His simple black suit stretches around his obviously toned and broad shoulders.

“Hi, it’s uh, nice to see you again. Come on in,” you say, opening the door wider and stepping aside.

“Course,” he replies, striding in past you. His hand twitches nervously when he turns and takes how you look fully in. “You look– y’look beautiful.”

A flush of warmth spreads through you at the compliment from the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, now standing in the middle of your living room.

“Oh, thanks, uh, it’s not every day your ex boyfriend of twenty years gets married to the woman he left you for… so I guess I needed to show off.”

“It’s–yeah–good,” he stammers, his eyes darting around the room, clearly avoiding your gaze.

“Well, uh, I just need to slip on my shoes and grab my bag, then we can get going. Make yourself at home.”

“Sure thing.”

As you head down the hall to get your things, you hear him let out a long sigh.

Don’t worry dude, I get it. It’s going to be a long night.

“So, um, I know, this is awkward,” you say, returning to the living room and dropping your shoes on the floor, “but I’m really grateful to you.”

He chuckles, sitting on the edge of your couch. “S’alright. I can’t say no to a free meal and open bar.”

“If I still know Simon’s taste, it’ll be a top-notch open bar too,” you muse, slipping into your high heel and bending over to fasten the buckle.

You glance up when you hear Joel’s breath catch. He’s staring intently at you–more specifically, at your exposed leg and thigh, courtesy of the high slit in your dress.

You really had to pick the dress that Maria dubbed “the revenge dress,” didn’t you? He clears his throat and quickly averts his gaze, but the charged atmosphere lingers. You try to ignore it, buckle your other shoe and grab your clutch.

“Ready?” you ask.

“I am," he replies, standing up and adjusting his neck tie, a hint of color warms his cheeks. .

—-

Joel’s truck looks quite out of place pulling into the Hurts Family’s grand estate. Of course Simon’s getting married at Father & Mother’s sprawling manor. You can’t help but wonder if the altar and ceremony will be located in the same conservatory you and Simon lost your virginity to each other in.

The whole drive over, you and Joel practiced your spiels, all the while you tried to ignore the waves of attraction that vibrated between you and him in the small cab of his truck.

He pulls up to the valet and reluctantly hands his keys over to the college aged kid before hurrying over to your door, cutting in front of the doorman to help you down. What a gentleman.

Soft violin music floats through the air and white flower petals line the walkway leading into the massive estate that once felt like your second home. A nagging thought lingers in the back of your mind that you’re about to live what should’ve been your wedding day.

You breathe out deeply, Joel grabs your hand as he guides you into the house.

People mingle, some you don’t know, many you do. Aunt Billie, Uncle Martin, the cousins from Manchester, Simon’s favorite professor. Familiar faces surround you, what the hell were you thinking this would be okay?

You’ve known this home since you were twelve, Simon showed up in your seventh grade algebra class, a new student with bright blue eyes and blonde hair, you thought he was the prettiest boy you had ever seen, even before he spoke… the British accent would’ve been enough to sweep you off your feet. It took a couple years of friendship before you both admitted your crushes on each other, the confessions happened in the movie room, just down the hallway you stand near.

Love is fleeting, love is hopeless. You’ve learned to care for yourself like Simon once cared for you, but now in this home you used to sneak into, you feel just as alone as you did the day you moved out of the house you shared with him for a decade just two streets down from here.

“Hey, you okay?” Joel leans in and whispers. “Squeezin’ my hand mighty hard.”

“Oh,” you blink, refocusing on him, “I am, it’s just… really bizarre and everything. Seeing so many familiar people I haven't seen in years feels strange.”

“You’re doing good, I got you,” he says, letting go of your hand, and wrapping his arm around your waist, guiding you farther into the mansion.

___

The impressive altar stands in the conservatory–you know your ex well– this windowed dwelling means everything to him. Everywhere you look, peach and champagne flowers are nestled among lush green foliage. You and Joel settle eight rows back on the groom's side, just a few feet from the bench you lost your virginity on. Jamie, Simon’s friend from college, sends you a kind smile when you sit next to him.

Your foot taps nervously against the stone tile, keeping rhythm with the soft string music lilting through the air. You take a deep breath to center yourself as the processional begins. The family minister you’ve known since you were fifteen leads the way then–Simon. Still just as handsome, in that specific pretty way that drew you to him as a teenager. The slight waves of his dark blonde hair are more controlled and slicked back. His slender body is topped by wide shoulders from all his years of playing polo. His equally handsome brother Liam follows, along with a handful of friends you used to consider your own.

Joel’s arm wraps around you as Simon takes his place at the altar, his fingers resting firmly on your bare shoulder just in time for the bridal procession to begin. Everybody takes their rightful places waiting for the bride. Simon stands at the altar, laser focused on the doorway, oddly, you feel a sense of happiness for him. Maybe you feel less lonely with the comfort of Joel’s strong arm around you, maybe you’re just caught up in the emotions of the day.

As you expected, Lia and Ewan, Simon’s niece and nephew, are the ring bearer and flower girl. You were at the hospital when both of them were born. You taught both of them how to swim. They used to call you their aunt.

The small orchestra begins playing “The Wedding March,” the audience stands in anticipation of Sabrina’s entrance. The curtains part and she appears shimmering down the aisle in her ivory dress. Okay, you have to admit, she looks gorgeous. Joel pulls you closer, his hand rests against your hip as Sabrina and her father pass your row. You’re grateful for his presence, even if it’s just a comforting distraction that just happens to be pretend.

The look on Simon’s face is unmistakable when he takes Sabrina’s hand–it’s the same look he would give you whenever he told you loved you all those thousands upon thousands of times.

You take your seat, Joel’s hand finds your shoulder once more. It’s going to be damn hard to concentrate on the ceremony.

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today.

—

You survive the ceremony… thanks to Joel and his calloused hand rubbing circles on your shoulder. As Simon and Sabrina lead the recessional out of the conservatory, Simon spots you and sends you a knowing wink and smile when he spots Joel next to you. Maybe it’s a good thing you attended, it’s the final picket placed in the closure fence.

“You good?” Joel whispers in your ear while watching the rest of the party leave. You turn to respond, failing to realize his face is now right next to yours. His lips now sit a breath away from yours. Panic slips in, overwhelmed by the thought of anyone catching an awkward moment like this, especially since you’re the ex girlfriend the groom left for his brand new bride.

Fuck it. You lean forward and place your lips against his, leaving a delicate peck against them. At least now you’ll have this moment that’s just for you.

—

The warm autumn sun is beginning to set casting the preened and pristine gardens of the Hurts Estate in amber tones. Thank god for the cocktail hour and open bar.

You sip your champagne and smile at a few familiar faces while gazing out upon the vast lawns you used to spend lazy days sunbathing and playing croquet on. What a bizarre homecoming of sorts. Joel is taking his role seriously, constantly checking on you and never leaving your side.

A familiar voice calls your name, pulling you from your reverie.

“Oh sweetheart! It’s so lovely to see you!” Simon’s mother, Adeline, greets you with kisses on both cheeks before pulling you into a warm hug. You’ve always liked the woman and she always adored you. She turns to your date, her eyes lighting up when she looks Joel up and down.

“Addy, this is my boyfriend Joel.” A rush of excitement is sent through you at the simple introduction. “Joel, this is Simon’s mom, Adeline.”

“Good evening ma’am,” Joel says, extending his hand to shake hers gently. “It’s quite beautiful here.”

“Oh, thank you! Aside from our two boys, this is our pride and joy. There’s nothing better than seeing your child get married in the place you call home.” .

“Well, I’ve heard a lot of nice things about this place, you have a lot of good memories here, right baby?” Joel looks at you with an affectionate smile. Oh he’s good.

“I do,” you smile warmly at Addy.

“Oh sweetheart! That makes me so happy! You’re always welcome here, I’m so happy Simon invited you!”

“I am too, it’s so nice to see you,” you say, realizing how much you truly miss her. You spent twenty years of your life around so many of these people before being cut off cold turkey from them.

“Shoot! I better keep moving and making my rounds! Do enjoy the bar, and make sure tell them Addy sent you; they’ll give you the real good stuff. Joel, are you a whiskey man?”

“Yes ma’am,” Joel replies with a nod.

“We’ve got some Old Rip Van Winkle, aged 25 years. Just tell them Adeline insists and they’ll pour you a glass.”

“Thank you ma’am,” Joel says gratefully.

“Oh, I like him darling!” Addy winks before turning to leave, her gold dress gleaming just as bright as her personality.

—

The large tent erected for the ceremony glows in pink and orange hues. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling overflowing with roses and garlands. It’s gorgeous and opulent everywhere you look.

You’ve been nervous about your table assignment since you sent in your RSVP. Who will you be stuck with? You prayed it would be strangers versus people you used to call friends. You thank your lucky stars when you’re led to table eleven, where you’re greeted warmly by strangers. You tell your new tablemates you’re an old friend of Simon’s, Joel grabs your hand and gently holds it while you introduce yourselves, shocked you still haven’t had to utilize the stories you and him invented.

Ladies and gentlemen! Please welcome for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Simon Hurts!

The two lovebirds make their grand entrance, glowing and grinning in their newlywed aura before the symphonic melody of “Can’t Help Falling In Love” begins to play. Hilarious, the last time you heard this song it was on a playlist Sabrina had made for Simon… a couple weeks before your ultimate separation. You got into a fight over the amount of times he’d play it, he told you were overreacting and being dramatic, you should’ve trusted your instincts right then and there.

They look so happy and gorgeous together, dancing their first dance surrounded by all of their loved ones inside this picturesque setting. It should’ve been you…

Joel leans in closer, wrapping his arm around you, stealing your attention from your spiraling thoughts. “I can’t play this song on violin or cello, but I can play it on guitar, maybe I can play it for you sometime.”

You look up at him, your eyes locking with his, “I–I’d like that.”

“Thought you would,” he smirks, before leaning down to place a tender kiss on your forehead.

He’s been touching you all night, always considerate and tender, as if he holds an actual amount of reverence in his heart for you. God, he’s either the sweetest man to ever live, or he should give up the construction job, move to Hollywood and start acting.

—

Simon and Sabrina make their rounds after dinner, they’re a table away laughing and galavanting with friends you used to call your own. It’s been over a year since you last spoke to him and now as the ultimate final thing you’ve been dreading is near, you’re nervous as hell. Joel casually drapes his arm around the back of your chair before leaning forward and pressing his lips to the top of your head, helping subside some of your anxieties.

“You good?” he checks in with a soft whisper.

You nod, scooting closer into the shell he’s created for you with his large body.

Simon catches your eye with a warm, gentle smile as he leads Sabrina over to your table. You can’t be too mad at him, he’s been nothing but a gentleman since he forced the end of your already faltering relationship. Sabrina, well–she was just a better match for him. You wish them well, no matter how much it still seemingly hurts. You just want Simon to miss you a little bit.

The newlyweds greet the rest of the table, collecting well-wishes and flattery from the guests before turning their attention to you and Joel.

Simon bends forward and gives you a tight hug before thanking you and saying how lovely it is to see you. Sabrina says hello, you tell her she looks beautiful, she returns the favor.

Simon extends his hand to Joel and introduces himself. “I’m Simon, I’m sure you’ve heard a bit about me–hopefully some good,” he says, his ever present British charm helps cut through the tension radiating off of Joel’s gruff reservedness.

“She has,” Joel replies, shaking Simon’s hand. “I’m Joel. Nice to meet you both. Congrats. S’been a lovely wedding.”

The four of you make casual conversation. Joel mentions he’s a contractor, Simon’s eyes light up before he mentions how he wants to build a pool house. Your heart twinges a bit when you remember it’s all for pretend and there’s no way Joel could take the job. Joel makes a joke about how dinner was better than a No. 5 from Whataburger, eliciting a ruckus laugh from the newlyweds. You feel good, until the sinking feeling inside rears its ugly head and reminds you this is all a sham.

Sabrina nods to Simon in an unspoken understanding that they need to move on with their greetings. Joel wishes them well and thanks them for the lovely party. You smile and do the same.

“It’s good to see you happy,” Simon says as he gives you a parting hug.

If only he knew…

You’re quiet as you watch Simon and Sabrina walk away, Simon’s hand is placed on Sabrina’s back lightly stroking up and down. Joel softly says your name, breaking your concentration on the happy married couple.

“I like this song, let’s dance,” he says, rising and extending his hand to you.

“Wonderwall?” you ask, taking his hand and letting him lead you to the dance floor. “Let me guess, you can play it on guitar.”

“I do,” he confirms with a smile, pulling you close against his body. His large hand splays against your lower back, and yours finds its place on his firm shoulder. The wedding band has slowed the song down, couples gently sway around you. The twinkling lights above reflect in Joel’s dark brown eyes. You can’t stop looking at him, he can’t stop looking at you. The moment is intimate, to any other wedding guest, you look like a couple just as in love as the newlyweds.

You rest your head against his chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne–woodsy, smoky, with a hint of cinnamon. His thumb strokes against the skin of your hand as your bodies synchronistically move together. This doesn't feel like pretending at all.

The song ends, Joel makes no move to pull away, and you don’t either. The first notes of the next song begin and you recognize the drumbeat anywhere. You can’t believe you’re hearing it here, of all places.

“We can leave the Christmas lights up till January…”

“Ohh,” you let out a soft sigh against Joel’s chest, feeling your heart drop. “This was going to be our first dance song, I-I told him it as soon as I first heard it all those years ago.”

Joel tilts his head down, his concerned brown eyes peer into yours. “M’sorry, did you want to stop?”

“No, no, it’s–I can’t leave the floor during this. What if he sees me?”

Joel nods reassuringly before tightening his hold on you and pulling your joined hands in closer. His head rests on top of yours engulfing you with his broad body, like your own personal fake wedding date security blanket.

Your heartbreak slowly dissipates, mended by the gentle touch and attention of Joel. The song ends, he asks if you want to get a breath of fresh air, you gratefully nod before taking his hand and telling him you know a place.

—

The breeze rolling off the lake sends a chill across your skin, Joel takes notice, quickly removing his jacket and places it over your shoulders without hesitation.

“Thanks,” you say, sinking into the leftover warmth of Joel.

“No problem,” he says, shuffling his neck tie open and unbuttoning the top two buttons of his crisp white dress shirt. “I’m burnin’ up under it.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence as you watch the tranquil waves lap at the shore. “Sorry about earlier. It was just… a shock to hear that song. He moved on so quickly and I feel like I’ve just been left wondering how I can so easily be… replaced.”

“No need to apologize,” he sighs, “I’m not good at any of this stuff, but, you don’t seem like someone that’s so… easy to get over.”

Your heart skips a beat when you look over at him. The soft ambient glow of the full moon reflecting off the water bathes him in an almost ethereal glow, making him look like a knight in shining armor who walked through a portal to help save you from your own wounded heart you’ve been trying to heal for the past two years.

“Guess you just don’t know me very well then,” you joke, trying to slow down the thoughts racing within your heart and mind.

“No, but I think I’d like to,” he says, turning to you with a sincere look in his eyes.

“I-I’d like that too.”

Joel hesitates for a moment before asking, “There’s a new Curtis & Viper movie releasing next week. Did you want to go with me?”

“Like a real date?” you ask, your voice tinged with excitement.

“Suppose it would be. We could recreate our ‘first’ date that we told that one aunt of Simon’s all about. We’ll get pizza at the place across the street.”

“I’d love that,” you say, your excitement clear in your voice.

From across the yard, you can just make out the sound of the band playing for the wedding guests.

Joel takes a deep breath and turns to you with a warm, playful smile. “I feel better asking you here so you know I’m being for real. I really want to dance with you. May I have this dance?”

“I’d love nothing more,” you reply, a smile spreading across your face as he pulls you closer.

You remind yourself to send Maria a bouquet of flowers for setting up your fake wedding date as you settle into his embrace.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel x reader #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #tlou joel #no outbreak!joel miller

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stevie-petey · 1 year ago

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episode five: the flea and the acrobat

“Steve, what-” He pushes past you in a frenzied hurry to get to his car, but you grab his jacket and force him to stop. “Answer me! Is Nancy okay? Was Jonathan with her?” Steve whips around and sneers at you. “Why do you even care about them? About him?” “Because we’re friends,” you say, and for the first time you really mean it. Nancy has become someone you’d call a friend. Another cruel laugh escapes Steve’s lips. “Friends, huh? Yeah, those two looked real fucking cozy in her bed.”

Summary: you and dustin have a long overdue Sibling Moment, at will's funeral you and jonathan exchange information and surprise ! it's all horrible news ! nancy has awful timing and when you leave her alone with jonathan one damn time you and steve end up trauma bonded on her front porch #bffs.

Rating: general, though there's the use of guns in here for plot point sake, as well as cursing

Warnings: use of guns, cursing, fem!reader, and use of y/n.

Words: 14.4k (whew)

Before you swing in: i'm back gang ! fall semester is almost done and i am in the trenches, so i leave y'all with this monster of a chapter before hell week (i have three finals in one day next week, no i don't want to talk about it). please enjoy this beauty, i had so much fun messing with character relationships in this and it was very ;)

With how many times you’ve knocked on the Wheeler’s door this week, you’d think that Mrs. Wheeler would stop looking so surprised when she answers.

“Y/N?”

You give the woman a small smile. “Hi, Mrs. Wheeler. Is, uh, Mike home?”

“Yes… he stayed home today because of Will. Is there something you need?” The usually friendly woman seems beaten down from this week’s events as well, which you’re understanding of.

“I was wondering if I could come in and see how he’s doing? Dustin is really shaken up about it, so I figured…” You shrug, trying to come across as a concerned older sister figure rather than a worried and horrible babysitter who should really retire.

Mrs. Wheeler places a hand over her heart. “Oh, Y/N. You’ve always been so good with the boys, of course you can check on him. It means a lot that you care.”

Oh, no problem, but if we’re being honest I’m here because I’m scared I accidentally let your son get involved with the supernatural and dangerous monster men thingies that I honestly can’t wrap my head around!

Of course you can’t tell the woman this, so instead you thank her and let yourself in. Immediately you head towards the basement and fling the door open. You like Mrs. Wheeler, but the amount of times her son has snuck out of the house without her noticing honestly concerns you, so you’re a bit unsure if Mike even is home.

You get deja-vu from a few days ago as you head down the basement steps, once again hearing the three boys panicking as they try to hide El. Unlike last time, which had only annoyed you, seeing them scramble to hide the girl makes you relieved.

They’re here, alive and well. You’d let Steve distract you from your worrying on the drive over, so the relief hits you like a damn truck.

“Oh god not again!” Dustin groans when he sees you, worried that he’s once again going to get yelled at for being at the Wheeler’s with El.

You ignore his theatrics and walk over to the girl, who is laying face down on the couch. You notice that she’s dressed in one of Nancy’s old costumes and a blonde wig that suits her well. What the hell did the kids get up to today?

“Do I want to know why El is dressed like a doll and almost passed out on the couch?”

“That depends on if you’re going to yell at us again,” Mike says.

You shoot him a glare, but you guess he has a point. The last few times you’ve been with the kids you’ve ended up yelling at them one way or another. You feel bad about that, but then again: they won’t stop getting into trouble.

El manages to raise her head from the couch, “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, sweetie,” you approach the couch and gently nudge her to the side so that you can sit down and place her head on your lap. She nuzzles into your warmth and lets out a sleepy sigh. “And to answer your question, Mike: I’m not here to yell at you guys. I just… Please tell me what’s been going on. I know I haven’t been here for you guys like I should’ve, but-”

“Your boyfriend needed you more,” Mike quips, though there’s some resentment in his voice that causes you to feel even worse.

Dustin hits his shoulder against the boy. “He isn’t her boyfriend, but she couldn’t just abandon him; he needed her. Besides, we have been sneaking off without telling her anything.”

You cast an appreciative smile at your brother, thankful that even though he’s a pain in your ass, he always has your back like you do his. It’s something he’s always done with you and Mike; being so similar, you and him are constantly butting heads, yet Dustin has always been the first to defend you against his friend (even if you’ve never needed it in the first place).

“I’m sorry, okay? I messed up, but I’m here now and I really, really need to know if I’m being paranoid. What mess did you dweebs manage to get into?”

The three boys suddenly can’t look at you. Their heads turn in different directions, Lucas scratches the back of his neck, Mike kicks at a board piece on the ground, and Dustin whistles a tune.

Your shoulders slump. “Is it that bad?”

“It started this morning,”

“Lucas!”

“Mike, she could help us! The weirdo clearly likes her,” he gestures over to El practically asleep in your lap, “plus, she’s the only sane one left in this group. I need backup.”

“Backup?” You ask.

Mike throws his head back in annoyance and lets out a groan as if he’s dying. Truly, this kid is the most dramatic person you’ve ever met. “Fine, we’ll tell you everything if you agree to stop hounding us for sneaking around. Will is missing, he’s our friend, and no one in the party gets left behind.”

You think this over for a moment, weighing the pros and cons in your head. “I will agree to those terms if you guys agree to keep me updated on everything at all times.”

The boys try to argue, but you don’t let them.

“I mean it, another person is missing. Nancy’s friend, Barb, was in the same woods that Will was, the same woods that you guys keep insisting on trekking through without supervision. This is serious, guys. Whatever, or whoever, is out there… it’s dangerous, and I-” You swallow down some tears that claw against your throat. “I can’t lose anyone else, okay?”

The mood in the room is solemn, the three boys silent as your words hang in the air. Naturally, you try to lighten things up. “I’ll deny this if anyone asks, but unfortunately I love you boys.”

As expected, they immediately begin to gag and pretend that they’ve been impaled with something as they all scream “ew” and “yuck” at your words. You laugh, which causes El to laugh as well, and for a moment it feels like nothing has changed.

“So?” You ask after the boys have finished their gross theatrics.

Dustin is the one who makes the decision for them. “We promise to keep you updated, for real this time.”

“Good, now again I ask: why is El dressed like a doll and half asleep on my lap as we speak?”

Lucas, Dustin, and Mike begin to talk all at once.

“Mike radioed for me to head over, claiming he heard Will on the walkie.”

“Yeah, and then they radioed me to join. Sorry, by the way. I would’ve woken you up, but you and Jonathan looked so cozy in your bed so-”

“I thought you said they weren’t dating?”

“Not now, Mike.”

It continues like this for a while as they explain everything they did today. Sneaking El into the school, having to to talk to Mr. Clark, attending the assembly for Will, Mike fighting some idiotic kids for making fun of him before El made the head bully pee himself.

You look down at the girl in your lap. “You can really make people pee themselves?”

“Sometimes,” she shrugs.

“Lovely.”

“That’s what you focus on, Y/N?” Mike asks you, and you simply shrug your shoulders in response. Sue you for still having doubts about Will being alive, you’ve gotten your hopes up one too many times.

“Are you suggesting I believe that you heard Will through your cheap little walkies?”

Dustin puts his head in his hands in defeat while Lucas gestures over to you. “See, she’s the sane backup I need.”

Mike groans at you once more. “No, that’s why we snuck El into the radio room and used the heathkit that Mr. Clark got us. Keep up!”

“What, did you tell the guy that El was a new student?”

“Don’t be stupid, we told Mr. Clark that she’s my cousin.”

“Uhh, Y/N,” Dustin laughs nervously, motioning for you to stop talking. “You promised you’d be cool about everything if we told you.”

Knowing that your brother is right, you deflate a bit against the couch and start playing with El’s hair. “I am being cool, I just have so many questions.”

“Oh, just wait.” Lucas snorts.

Mike now crosses the room to stand in front of you, as if he’s gearing up to tell you some major news. “We heard Will on the heathkit. El, she managed to use her powers to communicate with him.”

Like always, the seriousness in his voice concerns yet intrigues you. “Lucas, do you really believe that it was Will?”

The boy nods at you, his face grim. You don’t like how scared he looks, because out of the entire group he’s the one who is always the most reasonable. If he’s willingly telling you that he thinks it was Will, then you have to start taking the situation at hand seriously.

“Okay, tell me exactly what you guys heard.”

And they do. One by one they tell you about Will’s pleading for his mom, telling her that it’s like home but cold and dark, the banging that followed after his words, how El had used so much of her energy trying to maintain the communication before the radio caught fire and she was too exhausted to do much else.

“So, you believe us now?” Mike asks after you’re silent for a moment.

You look down at the girl in your lap, in awe that someone so small and shy could hold so much power. This time you believe what the boys tell you without much conviction. Now that you know that Barb is missing as well, lost in the same woods as Will, the same woods where you found El, the photos from Nancy and the figure she claims she saw… It’s all starting to come together.

You’re not sure exactly what you’re caught up in, but you know it’s too late to back out. Whatever is going on, whatever thing took Will and transported him to some unknown place with possibly the same powers that El has, you know it’s your responsibility to handle it.

“Yes,” you respond, and the boys all sigh with relief. “Just one question though,”

Dustin sighs. “Yes, Y/N?”

“How did it take you guys so long to set fire to the school? Honestly, Jonathan and I thought it’d happen sooner.”

“You’re hilarious.” Mike deadpans, which only causes you and El to giggle together again.

“I hate to ruin the good mood, but we seriously need to figure out what Will meant when he said that wherever he is ‘is like home’.” Your brother interrupts.

Mike spins to face him. “He said, ‘like home, but dark’, right?”

“And ‘empty’.” Lucas adds.

“‘Empty’ and ‘cold’. Wait, did he say cold?” Dustin asks the group.

You nod your head. “You mentioned cold earlier.”

Lucas throws his hands up in the air in frustration. “The stupid radio kept going in and out!”

“It’s like riddles in the dark…” Your brother sighs, which you hum in agreement to.

Will’s words were pretty vague, but you wish you had been there at the middle school as well. Maybe if you had heard the tone of Will’s voice, you’d be of more help.

Mike continues to mumble about “like home” and “dark” for a few more seconds, now pacing around the room. You watch from the couch, El still resting with her head in your lap, and as you’re playing with her hair she finally speaks up after having been silent for a while.

“Upside down.”

“What’d she say?” Lucas asks.

“Upside down? I guess?” Is all you can tell him.

“What?”

While you, Dustin, and Lucas are confused by El’s words, Mike rushes over to the forgotten board from a few days ago and sits down. He frantically flips it over and motions for you to come and join him. You hesitate for a second, but he only doubles down on his waving you over, so you gently lift El’s head up and walk over.

“God, took you long enough.”

“I was literally three feet away from you on the couch, why did I have to move?”

Mike ignores your question and begins to explain the thirty million thoughts flying through his head at the moment, “When El showed us where Will was, she flipped the board over, remember?”

You nod, slowly understanding where he’s going with this. “She flipped it upside down.”

“Exactly! Dark. Empty.”

Lucas looks over at you and Dustin, unamused. “Do you understand what he’s talking about?”

“No,” your brother says at the same time as you saying “the upside down part? Yes. The dark and empty part? No.”

Mike tries to explain further. “Guys, come on, think about it. When El took us to find Will, she took us to his house, right?”

“You mean last night when they found Will’s body in the water?” You ask, not really understanding where Mike is going with all this.

“Like Y/N said, he wasn’t there.” Lucas reminds everyone, but Mike still tries to get his point across.

“But what if he was there? What if we just couldn’t see him, what if he was on the other side?”

You think about Jonathan’s words from earlier today in the car while on the way to the funeral home, trying to calm down from his fight with his mom. He had told you about how Joyce was convinced that Will was in the walls within their home, that the body they saw in the morgue hadn’t been his.

“Hold on,” you interrupt Mike, “you guys said that there was some, like, banging where Will was, right? And that he had been begging his mom to come get him?”

“Yeah, it was like some sick sci-fi movie!”

You glare at your brother. “Ignoring you. Anyways, did you guys hear Mrs. Byers on the radio as well?”

Mike shakes his head. “No, all we could hear was the banging and something... Growling, I guess.”

Knowing Joyce, you’d bet money that the banging had been her. You know that the next time you go over to their house, the walls might actually be destroyed, but she’d been right all along. Will is alive, he has to be. The pieces that you’ve slowly been collecting this past week fall together one by one.

“That explains the walls and the weird monster thing in Jonathan’s picture,” you mumble to yourself, but Lucas hears you.

“Do I wanna know?”

You purse your lips. “Let’s focus on figuring out where Will is, then I’ll tell you guys what I’ve been up to this week.”

“Okay, so,” Mike begins again, now grabbing the board game and flipping it onto its normal, light side. “What if this is Hawkins,” he flips it upside down onto its dark side, “and this is where Will is?”

“The Upside Down.” You finish for him.

“The Upside Down.” Mike confirms.

Slowly Dustin follows along. “Like the Vale of Shadows.”

Somehow you always end up the one confused when it comes to these damn kids. “The Vale of Shadows? What the hell is that?”

Dustin runs over to the bookshelf and pulls out a thick binder full of paper, but as he flips through it you realize it’s a rulebook for Dungeons and Dragons. He lands on the page he’s looking for, and you feel your shoulders drop. Great. More confusing terminology ahead.

“‘The Vale of Shadows’,” he begins to read, “‘is a dimension that is a dark reflection or echo of our world. It is a place of decay and death. A plane out of phase. A place of monsters’.”

“Wait, didn’t you say something about a monster, Y/N?” Lucas asks, but you shush him so you don't miss whatever else Dustin will say next.

“‘It is right next to you, and you don’t even see it’.” He finishes.

His words hang in the air for a moment, but Mike, always somehow three steps ahead, pieces it together. “An alternate dimension.”

Lucas finally accepts what’s happening. “But how do we get there?”

“I’m sorry, we?” You look between all three boys, their faces still young and holding the childish innocence that you once had yourself. “No, there’s no ‘we’ in this. I may not know much about alternate dimensions, but there’s no way I’m letting you guys try to find and go to one.”

Mike rolls his eyes at you. “Well what choice do we have? Do you want to tell that mean police chief about this?”

“I…well… I mean-no.” You sink down in the seat, annoyed that Mike is right. No way Hopper believes any of this, you hardly believe any of it.

“Can we cast shadow walk?” Dustin focuses back on the conversation at hand.

You don’t bother to ask what that means.

“In real life, dummy.” Lucas reminds him.

“We can’t shadow walk, but…” Your brother’s eyes land on El, who is still laying on the couch, silent and unmoving. “Maybe she can.”

The four of you turn towards the girl, and Mike voices his own question. “Do you know how we get there? To the Upside Down?”

El meets your eyes, and you can see that she’s hesitant about something. She’s been quieter than usual, almost suspiciously so, and you know that the more Mike figures things out, the more hesitant she becomes. She shakes her head at you, and you give her a sad smile.

Lucas flings his head back and groans. “Oh my god!”

Mike and Dustin seem to be thinking the same thing, disappointed by El’s lack of help. You don’t blame them, also frustrated by the fact that it feels like you guys are so close to discovering something big. You can feel hope reignite in your chest; you haven’t been this close to an explanation about Will all week. This has to be it. It’s the only way you can explain everything that’s been happening lately.

Speaking of which:

“Remember how I mentioned Barb and a possible monster?”

You tell them everything, about Jonathan’s worry for his mom, how their phone got charred by lightning, Hopper’s theory that Will had been running from something, Nancy and Barb attending Steve’s party and how Barb had been on her own near the woods. You tell them about how Barb has been missing ever since and the photos Jonathan took (leaving out the horrible ones of Nancy) that Nancy brought to your attention at the funeral home. The figure in the background, looming over Barb, how it didn’t seem to have a face.

Then you tell them about Joyce and her spiral, though now you know she actually wasn’t crazy. You tell them about the Christmas lights and Will communicating with her through them. How she claimed that she could hear him through the wall and that the body in the quarry hadn’t been him.

When you’re finally done catching them up, they stare at you with their jaws open.

“Dustin,” Mike says, “remind me to never leave your sister out ever again.”

“Noted.”

–

The events from the day had left El exhausted and she refuses to say anything else after you explain everything to the boys. Her eyes droop while Mike interrogates you for answers you can’t give him, so finally you take pity on the poor girl and tell him that you’ll talk more in the morning.

Mike isn’t too happy about being shut down, but when you point towards a half asleep El he reluctantly gives in. “Fine, but as soon as the funeral is over we’re discussing this further.”

Right. Will’s funeral is tomorrow.

“Yeah, sure,” you tuck your hair behind your ears and motion over to Dustin. “We need to go, it’s late and mom will be wondering where we are.”

He tries to argue with you but you just gather your things and head for the stairs. There’s still a lot you need to think about and a million things you need to sort before the funeral tomorrow. Did Jonathan even buy the coffin? Who had made the arrangements after you and him left the funeral home with Nancy?

There’s a lot you need to talk about when you call him tonight.

The bike ride home with Lucas and Dustin is a quiet one, both boys understanding that you need some time to think about everything you learned tonight.

You make a list in your head of what you do know, but it’s a frustratingly short list.

1) El, one way or another, has powers that enable her to communicate with Will in some weird upside down universe that you can’t actually get to (can you even count this as something you know?)

2) Hopper was right: Will went missing because he was running from something (probably the same faceless thing that’s in Jonathan’s photo).

3) Whatever took Will also took Barb, bringing Nancy into this wonderfully confusing mess (you still don’t know if her involvement is a good or bad thing).

Everything else? You have no fucking clue what’s going on.

When you get home with Dustin, it’s late; the two of you have to sneak past your mom, who fell asleep with Mews on her lap in the living room. Dustin heads straight for his room but you stop him, motioning for him to come into yours for a second.

“What-”

“Shh!” You quickly shut your door to ensure that your mom won’t hear anything.

Dustin groans. “I thought you said you weren’t gonna yell at me?”

You roll your eyes at him. “I yell at you guys twice after years of patience, now suddenly I’m a screaming monster,” he doesn’t say anything and flings himself onto the bean bag by your bed. “Anyways, we’re long overdue for a code blue.”

Your brother shoots up from the bean bag, eyes wide. “No.”

“Yes,” you join him on the bean bag. “Code blue time, we’re going to talk about our feelings after the hellish week we’ve had. C’mon, you know the drill.”

Code blue was something the two of you came up with when your dad left. You had been twelve when it happened, Dustin had been nine. It’d been a really rough few months for you guys, dealing with the betrayal of your dad while also moving away from your hometown in Virginia all within a year. Neither of you had adjusted well to the sudden changes, and though you were angry and bitter about what had happened, the moment you saw that it was affecting your brother you decided to implement code blue.

It’s simple, really. Whoever calls for a code blue gets to talk about or ask whatever they want while the other is required to answer. Originally it was so that you could force Dustin into telling you his feelings, but over the years it’s become a way to bond with each other and know that no matter what you’ll be there for one another. No half truths or a vague “I’m fine”; it’s a time for you guys to be vulnerable with one another without using it as leverage against the other.

Dustin plops his head back down. “Fine, but I’m tired so can this be quick?”

“Hey, no complaining during code blue. That’s like, rule number one.”

“Y/N.” His tone is one of annoyance and you know that if you don’t start talking soon then you’ll lose his interest.

“Right, sorry. Okay,” you clear your throat and face your brother. “Today’s code blue topic is this: I’m worried about you getting your hopes up about Will. We don’t know that he’s alive just yet.”

As expected, Dustin is unhappy with what you’ve said. “We do know that he’s alive, I heard him on the heathkit. He’s alive, Y/N.” He sees the uncertainty on your face and doubles down on what he’s saying. “He is.”

You bite your lip, scared that you’ll say the wrong thing. “Dustin, nothing is certain. Even though we’re definitely onto something, and while I believe that you heard Will on the radio, that doesn’t change the fact that there’s something else out there that wants to hurt him. I mean, he’s trapped in some weird alternate dimension that we have no idea how to even get into. I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

You think about the way your brother’s face fell when they pulled Will’s body out of the water. How the hope that had been in his eyes immediately died alongside his childhood naivety. He had built all of his hope upon a shaky foundation; the moment it collapsed he fell apart.

“Look I know you’re trying to look out for me, but Will is a part of the party. He’s our friend, we can’t just lose hope and leave him behind. He needs us.” Dustin speaks with so much certainty and an aura of maturity that almost makes you forget that he’s twelve.

“I’m not saying it’s dangerous to have hope, but I need you to promise me that you’ll protect yourself from whatever happens next. How’s that sound?”

Dustin thinks for a moment, tapping a finger against his chin. “Hmm, I think I can make that deal if you promise the same thing. I mean, c’mon, it’s obvious that you’re the sensitive one out of the two of us. You and hope? Doomed.”

You laugh, knowing he’s right. You’ve always been branded by hope; hopeful for love, for dreams, and for those who may not always deserve it. You and hope haven’t always gotten along, but she’s become a familiar friend.

“I think you’ve got yourself a deal. Now, it’s late and I have to call Jonathan and catch him up on everything, so let’s conclude code blue with its mandatory hug.”

“Woah woah woah, I don’t think we gotta-”

Dustin’s words become muffled as you throw yourself on top of him and squish him into a hug. He squirms against you for a second, claiming he can’t breathe, but you shush him and force him to accept the hug. Though you won’t ever tell him this, losing Will has only made you more appreciative of having a wonderfully annoying little brother.

After code blue, Dustin goes to his room claiming that “alternate dimensions are super draining”, and before he leaves you tell him to be ready tomorrow by nine for the funeral and that your mom will take him. You’ll be at the Byers’ helping Jonathan.

Once he’s gone you give yourself a few moments to sit in silence, letting the events from today settle over you. It seems like all you’ve felt this week is exhaustion and hurt and at the rate everything is going, there’s no telling how long you’ll feel this way.

The moment you’re done wallowing you roll off the bean bag and walk over to your desk to call Jonathan. You’re honestly not sure what you’ll even tell him tonight, there’s no way you’ll be able to cover everything before the night ends. The two of you have a long day tomorrow, so you figure you’ll have to make do with the limited time you have and summarize.

Jonathan answers after a few rings. “How’d your little secret mission go?”

You make a face. “Is it even a secret mission if I told you I was going on it?”

“It is if you refuse to tell me what you did during it.”

“Touché, bee.”

He laughs, which sends a cascading warmth throughout your body. You can envision him perfectly on the other end of the line, leaning against his kitchen wall with the phone wire wrapped around his finger as he absent mindedly fiddles with it while he talks to you.

You clear your throat and shake the thought from your mind, you called him for a reason. “Anyways… we need to talk.”

Jonathan is silent for a moment and you can feel the playfulness fade away. “Yeah, you first though. You already know what Nance and I were up to.”

Nance?

Awesome. Cool. Totally not going to be consumed by that later.

“Right. Uh, well. I went looking for Dustin because the other night when I was with the boys we stumbled upon this, well, this little girl.”

“A girl?”

“Yeah, she’s bald.”

“Okay… is that important or…?”

“Unsure, but it felt important to tell you. Sorry,” you take a deep breath, “I’m not sure why I’m so nervous right now.”

“It’s okay, bug. It’s me, you can tell me anything.”

No I can’t.

“Sure, yeah, totally. Um, so anyways we found her, her name is El, and she’s our only connection to Will right now.”

A beat of silence. “What do you mean?”

“Well, she kinda has… powers?”

“Powers,”

“Powers.”

You hear Jonathan sigh on the other end of the call. “Bug, you’re not seriously telling me that the boys have somehow dragged you into one of their little schemes, right?”

Yeah, he’s reacting exactly how you figured he would.

“I know what it sounds like, but Jonathan… How else would you explain everything going on? Will disappeared, Barb did too, your mom and her lights. Now that thing Nancy saw in the woods, which I know you definitely have an update that will only further prove how weird this all is.”

Again Jonathan is quiet, and this time you envision him pacing little circles in the kitchen as he carefully thinks through your words, trying to piece it all together. “We developed the photo again and you’re right, there’s something behind Barb in it.”

You close your eyes and exhale. “So, you believe me now?”

“Guess I don’t really have a choice.”

“You don’t.”

“Then we’ll talk about it after the funeral tomorrow.” He concedes.

“Yeah,” you let out a shaky breath, “the funeral. I’ll make my way over the second I wake up tomorrow to help with everything.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I know.”

More silence settles over the two of you. It’s still hard to wrap your head around the fact that it was only a week ago where everything was normal. No disappearances, no weird feelings, no heartbreak and confusion.

“Bug?” Jonathan is practically whispering.

“Yeah?”

“Lonnie is here.”

The words hit you hard. Why the fuck is Lonnie back in Hawkins? “Do you need to spend the night? I can finally bake those cookies for your mom and we can watch whatever you want.”

“No,” he sounds exhausted. “He hasn’t been a problem yet, and I can’t…”

“Leave your mom with him?” You finish.

“He thinks she’s crazy and her axing down one of our walls doesn’t help-”

So you were right, Joyce did indeed break down her wall to try and get to Will.

“Jonathan, it’s okay. I understand, stay with her and get some rest. Sleep, that’s an order.”

He lets out a weak laugh. “I love you, bug.”

Like how I love you?

“I love you too, bee.” The words burn your tongue.

“Goodnight,”

“Sleep well.”

–

You’re up before the sun this morning.

You spent hours tossing and turning last night, hardly getting any sleep. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t seem to turn your mind off. All you could think about was Jonathan, his smile and his voice and the way he kisses your forehead whenever you’ve done something especially endearing to him. You were surrounded by him last night.

Now you stand outside his front door holding a tin of cookies, dressed in a simple knitted black dress and tights with mary janes that used to belong to your mom for Will’s funeral. The shoes are your favorite, but now you’re afraid they’re tainted by the occasion you’re wearing them for.

It’s Lonnie who opens the door. “Well if it isn’t little miss Henderson. I missed ya, sweetheart.”

You haven’t seen the man in two years, having been fourteen when he left Joyce and the kids. Since then he’s only aged horribly, his eyes slightly yellowed and his beer gut now more prominent. Clearly he still prefers alcohol over human company. Figures.

“Can’t say the same about you.” Your shoulder hits his as you walk in and he lets out an annoyed huff.

The man follows you but you pay him no attention. Instead you head straight towards Joyce and the second she sees you she runs into your arms; you only have a few seconds to place down the cookies before she’s in your arms.

“Y/N! You’re here!” She squeezes you tight and you melt into her embrace. She’s always given the best hugs whenever you’ve needed the comfort, but now it’s your turn to be the one offering the support.

“Of course, Mrs. Byers. Who else will make sure Jonathan is ready on time?” You mean for it to be a joke, but the way that Joyce’s eyes harden tells you that the funeral is a sore topic for her. She still doesn’t believe that Will is dead and it breaks your fucking heart that you can’t tell her she’s right.

Joyce wipes away a tear before pulling away. She goes to say something before seeing the tin of cookies on the counter; she immediately pulls you into another hug. “Oatmeal raisin,”

“They’re your favorite.”

“And Will’s.”

“And Will’s favorite. You know I gotta take care of my Byers.” You whisper into her ear, feeling Lonnie’s eyes on you during the exchange. You have to bite back your tongue, though his presence always makes you feel a type of anger that’s normally foreign to you.

Joyce pulls away and you know it’s taking everything in her to give you a smile. “You’re too good, sweetie,” she tucks a loose strand of hair that came out of its braid. “Jonathan’s in his room.”

You grab her hand and give it a squeeze, trying to convey just how much you love and admire her into a simple gesture, before letting go and walking over to Jonathan’s door.

He’s struggling with his tie when you let yourself in. He’s dressed in the only nice white button down he owns, something he bought for his aunt’s funeral a few years ago that now hardly fits. You can tell that he’s getting frustrated with the tie, so you walk over and help.

“Here, let me,” you wrap your fingers around the piece of cloth and quickly fashion it into a tie. The two of you don’t talk while you fix the clothing and you know that today will be a wordless day with Jonathan.

When you’ve finished, you begin to pull away before he places his hands around yours. He cups your hands at the base of his neck as they rest against his collarbones; your fingers are still wrapped around his tie. He squeezes your hands and brings them to his lips and kisses your knuckles so softly that you feel all the love within you simmer.

You know he’s only trying to express his gratitude for you but the butterflies in your stomach make you feel faint.

You’d do anything for him.

–

The funeral has a surprising turnout, not because you ever doubted Will’s incredible ability to be loved by anyone he meets, but because you see faces in the crowd who you’ve never seen before.

You stand behind Jonathan during the funeral with your hand on his shoulder as he sits with his family in a weak attempt to provide comfort during the service. It’s really fucking bleak. Your other hand is on Dustin’s shoulder as he stands next to you while Mike and Lucas are to the right of him.

Your mother is in the back of the crowd having known she’d cry the entire service, and faintly you can hear her blow her nose into a tissue and sniffle.

The pastor drones on for a while about how a tragedy like this won’t separate everyone from God’s love, but if attending the funeral for a twelve year old boy is how God shows his love then you want no part in it. Joyce sits stoic alongside Lonnie, Jonathan hasn’t moved at all since the service began; they’re a family brought together by grief. This isn’t love.

“Just wait until we tell Will that Jennifer Hayes was crying at his funeral,” Dustin snickers, effectively breaking you from your thoughts. You hit his shoulder and shush him as Mrs. Wheeler reminds the boys to be quiet. You flash her an apologetic smile for your brother’s actions.

You know how firmly the boys believe Will is alive and you honestly can’t say you don’t think so as well, but nothing is certain. Even if he’s alive there’s no way you guys can get to wherever he is; you wish the boys would use some caution with how quickly they’re building their hopes up.

After the service you walk up to Will’s grave and bend down. You bring one of the yellow roses from the funeral director up to your lips and whisper, “If you’re out there little bee, please, come home.”

Before dropping the rose in you give it a gentle kiss, inhaling its sweet scent and watching as it falls down onto his coffin. Jonathan finds you there crouched down and sees the rose right as it lands. He doesn’t say anything, he just grabs your hand and helps you stand up to bring you over to where Nancy is waiting a couple yards away.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You don’t have it in you to do anything other than wave at the girl, but she seems to understand and gives you a sympathetic smile.

Soon the three of you are settled on the ground with your backs against an old rickety fence behind some tombstones. Jonathan is in the middle of you and Nancy and you rest your head against his shoulder, already exhausted from the day. It’s not the coziest spot to be sitting, but at least you’re away from prying eyes.

Once you’re seated, Jonathan finally talks for the first time today. “Alright, I already told you this over the phone last night bug, but Nancy was right. After we redeveloped the photo there’s definitely some kind of figure behind Barb, and we thought maybe if my mom has been right all along about some monster-”

“Then she’s right about Will being alive.” You finish for him, having already come to the same conclusion yourself.

“And Barb has to be alive if Will is.” Nancy says, and there’s a spark of hope in her voice that surprises you. You’re ashamed to admit that you didn’t think her and Barb were that close, but seeing how worried she’s been for the girl makes you realize that you’d been a fool not to have seen it sooner. Barb was Nancy’s closest friend. You don’t know what you’d do if Jonathan ever disappeared like Barb did.

Jonathan pushes your head with his shoulder. “Anything you want to share with the class?”

You look between him and Nancy and try to decide how much you should tell them. While you’ve already told Jonathan a little bit about El, you’re not sure if you can trust the information with Nancy. However, seeing her urgency to find her friend leaves you feeling a bit safer disclosing the information to her.

“It started the night after Will disappeared…”

It takes a while to tell them everything, and while Jonathan butts in a few times to ask questions, Nancy remains silent and eagerly listens. She nods when she’s supposed to, engages with the story as if her life depends on it. You’re incredibly impressed by her intelligence and openness to the situation at hand. Had it been anyone else they would’ve scoffed at you and called you insane. But Nancy? She holds onto every word and trusts that what you’re saying is true.

You’re starting to admire her, as painful as it is to admit. But Nancy Wheeler is fucking brilliant, there’s no denying that.

When you’re finally done explaining El and the Upside Down, Nancy finally speaks. “Let me make sure I’m understanding correctly, you’ve been helping my brother harbor a girl with superpowers in my basement?”

Huh.

You hadn’t thought of it that way.

“Ya know, you make a good point.”

Thankfully she laughs and doesn’t seem too upset, which relieves you. You reassure her that they’re fine and that El is someone you trust, and Nancy seems to take comfort in your words. It’s not that you purposely hid the situation from her, but looking back you definitely could’ve used her help now that you know how cool she is.

As the two of you are laughing, Jonathan pulls out a piece of paper.

“What’s that?” You ask.

He shows you. “I printed out a map of Hawkins and drew x’s on every place we know for sure the monster has been.”

“Two questions: one, so we’re officially calling it the monster now? And two, why don’t you ever put in this much effort for school projects we do together?”

Jonathan flicks the paper in your face. “Funny. And yes, we’re calling it the monster now. Can you pay attention please?”

“Sorry,”

Nancy shuffles in closer and her head is practically on Jonathan’s shoulder as well (you’re choosing to ignore that) and she studies the paper and points to one of the x’s. “So that’s-”

“Steve’s house,” Jonathan points to another x, “and that’s the woods where they found Will’s bike and where Y/N last saw him,” the familiar feeling of guilt washes over you, “and that’s my house.”

Nancy reaches over Jonathan and grabs your hand, surprising you both. “You saw Will last?”

“Yeah,” you swallow, your mouth now suddenly dry.

“I’m sorry,” her tone is sincere.

“We should get back to the map…” You dodge, highly uncomfortable with Nancy’s comfort. You appreciate it, but you’ve never been good at accepting help from others.

“Right, sorry,” Nancy clears her throat. “The x’s, they’re all so close.”

Jonathan observes the interaction with slight confusion but decides not to say anything besides, “Yeah, exactly. I mean, it’s all within a mile or something. Whatever this thing is, it’s not traveling far.”

There’s a look in his eyes as he speaks, one of determination and disdain for whatever that thing is, and before you can tell him no, it’s Nancy who voices your concern first. “You want to go out there.”

Jonathan nods and you feel uneasy. “I trust you won’t try going alone again, right?” It’s a question, but he hears the underlying try and I’ll kill you hidden beneath your words.

“No, not this time… but we might not find anything.”

“I found something,” Nancy reminds him, which you nod at. She’s the only one out of the three of you who has seen the monster in person, and if you had to place any bets, she’s the one who will be able to figure out what the fuck to do with it.

Actually, what are you guys going to do?

“Do we, like, have a plan for after we’re done monster sightseeing? Or are we just going to take a look at it and call it a night?” You ask the two of them.

Nancy bites her lip and looks down, also unsure what exactly the three of you are supposed to do. It’s Jonathan who remains stone faced, and there’s a newfound sense of confidence within him that you’ve never seen when he boldly states, “We kill it.”

“Alright there tough guy,” you hit his chest with your hand and snort. “Sure, we kill it. Obviously.”

“Well, do you have any other ideas? For all we know, Mike and the others will be out there in those woods later looking for Will.”

“We don’t know that-”

“Bug, humor me, how did they find El again?”

You’re silent. He’s right, if you guys don’t go and find this monster before tonight then there’s a high chance the boys and El will find it themselves. Fuck.

“Nancy,” you say to the girl, “it seems like we’re now officially monster hunters.”

–

Of course Lonnie has a goddamn handgun just casually stored in his glove box.

You’re not entirely on board with this whole gun situation and apparently Nancy isn’t either, immediately questioning Jonathan when he picks the lock to get the gun.

“What, you want to find this thing and take another photo? Yell at it? Better yet, why doesn’t Y/N just round up the boys and El and have them take it down.”

“Okay, hey,” you point at Jonathan. “Out of line.”

He mumbles an apology under his breath while Nancy claims that this is all a terrible idea. You’re not sure where you fall in regards to what’s happening, but you’d say at the moment you’re a solid mix between Jonathan’s no time for nonsense mood and Nancy’s hey let’s slow down hesitation.

You kick a rock and watch as it dings against Lonnie’s car, which pleases you. “Oh it’s definitely a terrible idea, Nancy. Unfortunately it’s all we have going for us at the moment.”

Jonathan nods at your words. “She’s right, no one’s going to believe us if we tell them. You know that.”

“Your mom would.” Nancy responds, jutting her jaw out in defiance.

You cringe, unsure how Jonathan will respond to what she’s said. Joyce is a sore topic for him, he’s always been so protective of her.

“She’s been through enough,” he sighs, and you hum in agreement.

Nancy grows more frustrated. “She deserves to know!”

You step in between them. “Look, you’re right. Mrs. Byers deserves to know, but right now she isn’t well enough to handle the idea of her only remaining son actively seeking out a monster that may have taken her other son who could possibly be alive. If we’re wrong or Jonathan gets hurt, it might actually kill her.”

“Yeah, we’ll tell her when this thing is dead.” You note Jonathan’s word choice, saying “when” instead of “if”. In the four years you’ve been his friend, you’ve never seen him so self-assured before. You’d be proud of him if the circumstances weren’t so damn grim.

“What about the kids?” Nancy finally says after a few seconds of silence.

“They can’t get involved, I won’t let them.” You tell her and she nods as if expecting you’d say that.

She gestures over to the funeral home where the crowd of attendees are now gathered for the post burial service. “I know my brother, so you better go and tell him that they need to stay at our house while we deal with the monster. They like you better than they like me, they’ll listen to you if you explain what we’re doing.”

You’re flattered by her words, honestly. Mike, Dustin, and Lucas listening to you about staying put while you guys go monster hunting? They’d be out the door before you’d be even able to finish saying the phrase “monster hunting”. No way they’ll listen, and you’re about to say exactly that before catching the look Jonathan is giving you.

You groan at him. “You don’t actually believe they’ll listen to me, right? C’mon, you know those boys as well as I do. This is just a giant DnD game for them at this point.”

He shrugs, “It doesn’t hurt to try?”

Nancy gives you a hopeful look and bats her eyelashes at you, which, okay, shouldn’t work on you but does. Jonathan does the same, except instead of batting his eyelashes he winks at you and suddenly you’re very confused by the onslaught of emotions that wash over you.

“Ugh, fine. But when they show up in the woods later you guys are on your own!”

–

When you step inside the service hall, everyone is gathered into small groups talking amongst themselves. You scan the room for the kids and spot them across the room sitting at a table with Mr. Clark. He’s talking to them about something while holding a paper plate up. You’re not sure what exactly he’s saying to the boys, but they’re leaning in close to him and are listening intently.

This worries you.

You try to make your way over as quickly as you can, but being Jonathan’s best friend has some challenges. Every few steps you take you’re stopped by an extended family member of the Byers to ask how you are or a stranger stops to offer you their condolences because you’re close with the family. You do your best to make small talk and thank the people, but you don’t have time to say much else besides, “thank you” or “you were Will’s favorite great aunt”.

By the time you finally get to the table with Mr. Clark and the boys, the man has folded up the paper plate and stabs it with a pen. You really, really don’t want to know whatever the hell this man is explaining to the kids.

“You create a doorway,” he explains, holding up the plate and smiling at the boys.

Dustin looks enthralled. “Like a gate?”

“Sure, like a gate. But again, this is all-”

“Theoretical.” Lucas says, nodding his head.

A gate?

What are the odds the boys are talking about a gate to Disneyland?

You sigh, not liking the odds at all.

You slide yourself into Dustin’s chair and force your brother to share with you. He squeaks in surprise and you flash him a tight lipped smile, which causes him to gulp. He knows he’s been busted.

Mike scoffs at your arrival. “Gee, wonder why you’re here Y/N.”

“Go on, continue this conversation with Mr. Clark here. I wanna hear it.”

Mr. Clark looks at you uncertainly but Mike simply carries on with the conversation as if you aren’t even here. “But what if this gate already existed?”

“Well, if it did I think we’d know.”

You snort. “Wanna bet?”

Again the man looks at you uncertainly and clears his throat, uncomfortable by your presence. “What I mean to say is that it would disrupt gravity, the magnetic field, our environment.”

“So if there is a gate, it’d be really bad?” You ask, but you already know the answer.

“Oh, definitely. It might even swallow us up whole!”

You and the boys look around the table at one another, not at all liking what Mr. Clark is saying. Swallow you guys up whole? That’s not really something you’re interested in.

Mr. Clark sees your nervousness and shrugs. “Science is neat, but it’s not very forgiving.”

Silence falls upon the table.

Mr. Clark is such a peachy person.

“Well!” You throw your hands upon the table and the loud noise causes everyone to flinch. “Thank you so much for that lovely information, Mr. Clark. It was truly riveting, but would you mind giving me and the boys a second alone? I just, I want to make sure they’re doing okay after today.”

You bat your eyes at the man, something you never do, and he clears his throat and excuses himself. The second he’s gone you snap your finger in the boys’ faces. “Hey, listen up. Whatever you guys are planning? Don’t.”

As usual, Mike is the one who argues. “But-”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what we’re-”

“No.”

“Can you at least let me-”

“Sure,”

“Really?”

“No.”

Lucas and Dustin watch the interaction with slight pleasure, amused by your ability to shut Mike up, but when he turns to them for help they reluctantly give in.

“Y/N,” Dustin sighs, “honestly, how many times are we gonna do this whole ‘we’re not allowed but we’re going to do it anyways’ bit?”

You glare at your brother. “However many times it takes for you guys to finally listen.”

“Cool. Then we’ll expect you to bust down Mike’s door later tonight.”

“I’m not kidding,” you face all the kids and make sure they’re listening. “Whatever you’re trying to do, don’t. Jonathan and I-”

“You told Jonathan?” Mike exclaims but Lucas shushes him.

“We’re going to handle it, we already have a plan but whatever you do: stay out of the woods from here on out. We think… We think there’s a monster out there hiding. I just want to make sure you guys are safe.”

“Monster hunting?” Dustin’s eyes light up and you silently curse Jonathan and Nancy for even suggesting you do this in the first place.

“Technically… yes, but you guys absolutely have to stay put.”

They stare at you as if you’re insane.

“You do realize who you’re talking to, right?” Dustin asks.

You flick his head. “Yes, and I’m putting a lot of trust in you guys right now. I’ll let you guys do whatever you want so long as it doesn’t include the woods. Until you get an all clear from me, it’s off limits.”

Mike thinks this over. “Can we look for the gate then?”

You sigh. There’s no other way to appease them. “If you don’t go near the woods… then fine.”

The boys begin to cheer, which causes several funeral guests to stare at you with judgment. You realize now that this probably hadn’t been the right setting to have this conversation in. Oh well.

You don’t let the boys cheer for long. “However-”

“There she goes,” Lucas sinks into his seat and squeezes his eyes shut.

“I get full updates whenever I please. I don’t care if I have to track you guys down from the gates of hell itself, but I will find you and you will tell me everything. Deal?”

Lucas, Dustin, and Mike gather close together and duck their heads down so whisper to one another. You roll your eyes but wait for them to finish. When they’ve reached a decision, Mike interlocks his fingers and places his hands on the table. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

–

As soon as you’ve changed out of your funeral clothes and into a simple pair of jeans and a sweater, Jonathan arrives at your house. You kiss your mom’s cheek before leaving and shout over your shoulder, “Remember the deal, Dustin!”

You don’t quite catch what your brother responds with but you honestly don’t care enough as you run over to Jonathan’s car and hop into the passenger seat.

“You certainly didn’t waste any time getting here,” you say in lieu of a hello.

Jonathan shrugs. “No time to waste when it comes to monster hunting.”

“You do realize that we’re only scouting out the woods tonight, right?”

You, Jonathan, and Nancy had decided earlier to simply go and explore the woods for any clues of the monster and then figure out how, or even if, you can kill it.

“I know, but monster hunting sounds cooler.”

“Bless you, bee.”

The two of you get to the field in no time. Jonathan had been the one to suggest the spot a few yards behind his house for target practice and Nancy had agreed to bring a bat just in case you needed more protection.

And you?

You’re bringing the cans to serve as targets for shooting. Your family has never owned a gun and last time you checked, Dustin doesn’t play any sports, so all you can offer is your emptied recycling bin contents.

It doesn’t take long for you and Jonathan to set up the cans on top of the tree trunks before he begins shooting. Jonathan takes a deep breath and holds the gun up so it’s eye level and looks over at you. “Ready?”

You take a deep breath as well and prepare yourself, knowing it’s about to become loud. “Yeah, start shootin' cowboy.”

The first shot hits a tree behind the can, nowhere near its intended target, and you wince. It’s looking like the monster might actually win at the rate Jonathan’s aim is going.

“It’s okay,” you tell your friend. “The tree looked at me funny, he had it coming.”

Jonathan snorts. “You’re laughing now, but I can’t exactly hunt a monster if I can’t even shoot it.”

“Maybe you could talk nicely to it?”

“And say what, exactly? ‘Hey, Mr. Monster, where are you hiding my brother?’”

You step closer to him so that you’re now side by side and you nudge his shoulder. “Hey, you never know. It could work.”

Jonathan readjusts his grip on the gun and aims it once more. He takes another shot, this time it lands a bit closer to the can, but not by much. He lets out an agitated, “Fuck!”

He tries shooting again and again but each shot is as unpredictable as the last. After his sixth round of firing you can see how tense his shoulders are and the way he’s clenching his fists against the weapon. You remember how he acted earlier today, the newfound anger and resentment within Jonathan that had originally impressed you. Now it only frightens you.

When he goes to re-aim the gun for the seventh time, you grab at his hand and stop him.

“Bug, what are you-”

“Let’s go for a walk.”

Jonathan looks at you like you’re crazy but you simply take the gun from his hands, click the safety back on, and then walk over to the tree stumps to rest it against one of them. When you’re done you walk back over to the boy and interlock your fingers with his to drag him along.

There’s not a whole bunch of room in the clearing for a walk per say, but there’s enough to go a few laps around for Jonathan to take a breather. You’re not sure exactly what’s going on with him but a walk has never hurt anyone.

Jonathan’s silent the first lap around. You’re content with this and you admire the fall weather and enjoy the slight warmth from the sun as it kisses your face. When you’re on the third lap you decide to ask a question that’s been on your mind since yesterday when Nancy showed up at the funeral home.

“Do you really believe Will is alive?”

Jonathan thinks the question over for a moment, and as he’s lost in thought you notice that he begins gently swinging your hands back and forth absentmindedly. “I can still feel him.”

“Feel him?”

“Yeah, I know it sounds crazy but…”

“No, I think I get it. I mean, I’d be able to feel if something bad happened to Dustin. I know I’d be able to, even if there’s not necessarily a science behind it. It’s like there’s a lifeline connecting us, like some unspoken sibling thread that neither one of us can sever.”

“A sibling thread?” Jonathan asks, a slight laugh accompanying his question.

“Oh, you know what I mean, bee.”

“No, no. I wanna hear all about this thread theory of yours.”

Jonathan’s bright mood is back, reminiscent of the boy you once believed you knew better than you knew yourself, so you entertain his teasing if only to sustain his light a little longer. “If I explain this theory you have to promise not to laugh at me.”

“I promise,” he says and he gives your hand a light squeeze.

“Alright, but if you decide I’m insane after this, just know that you legally cannot leave me. You signed a contract.”

“Oh, did I?”

“You sure did, bee. Anyways, back to me,” a slight breeze surrounds you for a moment and you let the crisp air fill your lungs. “I have this theory that we’re all connected to each other in some way by different threads. Some threads are older than others, stronger, or maybe even more rigid, but they’re there. Whether it’s a thread between you and your family, the love of your life, or a stranger you happen to pass on the street one day, none of it happens by accident.”

“The threads are the reason it all happens?”

“Not necessarily, but yeah. To put it simply, I guess you could say that.”

“So, for our thread,” Jonathan stops walking and tugs at you to stop as well. “After everything we’ve been through, all that we’ve done for one another, what thread would you say ours is?”

His question catches you off guard; you can hear your heart beating within your chest. There’s so many things you wish you could tell him.

Our thread is one of romance, of lovers, of soulmates, even.

The feelings build within you and the words threaten to spill out. The November sun is beginning to set and everything is golden in its light and Jonathan is a part of it all. His brown eyes are like warm honey on a cold winter morning and his hair is slightly ruffled from the wind that leaves his cheeks flushed and rosy.

“Our thread,” your voice catches in your throat for a moment. “You know what our thread is, bee.”

He pulls you closer to him and in this moment all you can focus on are the slight freckles that dot across his face and neck. “Do I?”

Jonathan has never, ever looked at you like this before. There’s an intensity within his eyes that frightens you and leaves you feeling bare before him. Does he know? Has he figured it all out?

“I…” You can’t form the words you want to say; the three words that have been weighing upon you feel even heavier than before. They’re thick on your tongue, syrupy and dense and you feel as if you can’t breathe.

“Y/N?” He whispers, but you can only shake your head.

It’s too much. It’s all too much.

And then suddenly Jonathan leans in.

Maybe you’re imagining it.

Maybe you’re delirious after almost a week of sleepless nights and exhausting encounters.

Or maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way about you.

You lean in as well and allow yourself to close your eyes; you believe that just this once you can be selfish and accept more than you may deserve.

“Hey! Guys!”

Nancy’s shout causes you and Jonathan to spring apart.

You want to scream.

Of course it’s Nancy fucking Wheeler.

Jonathan drops your hand and waves the girl over while you stand there, trying to collect yourself. As she walks over, you have just enough pride left over to say, “You know I’d do anything for you, right?”

The question is one Jonathan isn’t expecting. He steps back a bit, now even more aware of the close proximity the two of you had only seconds ago. “Of course I do, bug. You’re my best friend.”

Best friend.

The words hurt more than they should, really.

“Right. Best friend, ha.” You step even further away from Jonathan, which he raises his eyebrows at.

“Did I miss something or…?”

If you had the time, you’d ask him why he wanted to know about the thread between the two of you. Why he looks at you like you’re the most precious thing in the entire room. Why, just minutes ago, he leaned in as if to kiss you.

But Nancy is now only a couple feet away and it wouldn’t be fair to ask her to give the two of you some privacy. You spot the bat in her hand and it serves as a reminder of what the three of you are here for in the first place.

Will, Barb, the monster.

“No, of course not,” you clear your throat and greet Nancy as she arrives. “Hey, Nancy.”

She smiles at you and then says hello to Jonathan. “Hey, where’s the gun?”

You point over to the cans and the tree stumps. “Over there, we just wanted to go for a little walk after shooting a few rounds.”

Nancy nods and walks over to inspect the undamaged cans. “You said you already shot a few rounds?”

Jonathan ducks his head down. “Yeah, well. It’s not as easy as it looks in the movies.”

“Y/N, did you try shooting?”

“Pfft, I’m definitely not a weapons kind of girl. I prefer to use my crippling good looks instead.”

While you and Nancy talk, Jonathan walks back over to the gun and reloads it. He motions for the two of you to step back and he shoots a few more times. Not once does he hit the can. You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh.

“You’re awful at this, bee.”

“Yeah,” Nancy agrees.

Jonathan looks over at her. “Have you ever shot a gun before?”

She scoffs. “Have you met my parents?”

“I don’t know, Mrs. Wheeler seems like the type to have a hidden gun.” You say, and Nancy waves you off.

“Well, I haven’t shot one since I was ten. My dad took me hunting on my birthday and made me kill a rabbit.” Jonathan’s words make you frown. Every day he gives you another reason to hate Lonnie.

Nancy sympathizes with Jonathan and the two of them fall into an easy banter that you’ve never seen before with him. He’s comfortable around her in a way that makes your stomach twist. He tells her about his parents and how they may have loved each other at one point but now no longer do. He’s opening up to her after only a few days of really knowing her.

Lovely.

Nancy shares some details about her own family and how she believes her parents never loved each other, which you can relate to. You watch as Jonathan hands her the gun as she explains how her mom had been younger than her father. “He had a cushy job, money, came from a good family. So, they bought a nice house at the end of a cul-de-sac and started their nuclear family.”

“Isn’t it funny how the fathers never seem to suffer the same fate as the mothers?” You ask, and Nancy looks over at you in confusion, so you explain further. “My own parents, they were like yours except the moment my mom was no longer young, my dad left. Found a newer and cheaper model back home in Virginia.”

“I didn’t know that, I’m sorry Y/N.”

You shrug. “It’s not like I go and advertise it. Besides, he was an asshole anyways and my mom is better off without him. She’s the sweetest woman in the world who was forced to run back to her family in Hawkins. Nuclear families aren’t all they’re cracked out to be.”

Jonathan ruffles your hair to get you to laugh, which he succeeds in doing. “Screw that.”

Nancy raises the gun to eye level and closes one of her eyes, her beautiful face now scrunched in concentration. “Yeah, screw that.”

And with that, she shoots a perfectly aimed shot and knocks the can off the stump. You and Jonathan look at her, stunned, but she can only laugh.

“Damn, Jonathan. Remind me to never piss Nancy off.” You say, still staring at the fallen can.

Only he doesn’t hear what you’ve said because he’s too busy staring at Nancy. You can tell he’s impressed by her hidden shooting talent and the way she holds herself with such confidence. His eyes shine as he stares at her and he almost seems to come to life whenever she looks back at him.

Jonathan looks at Nancy and you know he sees what everyone in Hawkins sees: a beautiful, fierce, and incredible girl.

Nancy Wheeler, the perfect enigma.

Suddenly it clicks.

Jonathan is in love with her, or at least he’s beginning to fall in love with her.

You want to hate her. Afterall, she already has Harrington head over heels for her, and yet you can’t blame either one of the boys. She’s perfect and brilliant and everything you’re not. You’d fall in love with her too if you weren’t already in love with someone else.

You watch as Nancy and Jonathan become lost in their own little world, him helping her reload the gun as she flashes him a shy smile, and you no longer exist near their presence. It feels like a fucking stab to your already open wound of a heart. You watch the way he ducks his head down whenever she looks at him and the way she stares at him when he isn’t looking.

Nancy shoots a few more rounds and each shot feels like a hammer coming down onto your own coffin. Each time Jonathan looks at her you feel another nail enter.

Clearly there’s no room for you here.

Which is fucking ironic given that you’re in a giant field outside.

You reach for Jonathan’s hand and tug him forward. He gives you a look as if asking is everything okay? and you wish more than ever that things were different between the two of you. You give him a soft shake of the head. “I can feel a headache coming on and I just remembered that I have a shift tonight, so I should get going.”

He frowns. “But what about the monster? We can’t look for him without you.”

“You’ll be fine without me,” to your horror you can feel tears forming, which you quickly wipe away before Jonathan can notice. “I doubt I’d be any help, anyways. I suck with guns. Nancy’s the professional here.”

“I mean, I guess, but…” He looks over at Nancy, who is busy firing the gun and hitting every target she aims for, before pulling you even closer to him. “Are we okay? I feel like, I don’t know… like I’m losing you.”

Your breath catches in your throat. He could never, ever lose you, but if you don’t leave now then you’re afraid that maybe you’ll lose yourself.

“Don’t be silly, bee. You’re not losing me, no matter how much you may want me to.” You try to tease him, but your heart isn’t in it.

“You didn’t answer my question, Y/N. Are we okay?” He’s looking at you with so much adoration and concern in his eyes that it almost makes you sick.

“Of course we are. I promise. I think it’s all just catching up to me, if I’m being honest. Between finding Will and tracking down my own brother, I think this monster hunting business may break me.”

Jonathan eyes you for a moment as if to try and catch you in a lie, but while you’re only telling him this as an excuse to get away from him and Nancy, it’s not technically a lie. You are exhausted. Plus, you really do have a shift.

The boy scans your face once more before deciding that you’re telling the truth. You know he suspects there’s something else behind your words, but thankfully he doesn’t pry. “Let me tell Nance that I’m driving you home,”

And there it is again.

Nance.

The nickname is like a punch to your gut and only solidifies that you should go. “It’s okay, bee. It’s still nice out, figured I’d walk home and get some sun before winter officially takes over Hawkins.”

“You can’t expect me to let you walk alone now that we know there’s a monster out there taking people, bug.”

You kiss his cheek, letting your lips linger for a little longer than necessary. “I’ll be careful, I promise. Stay with Nancy and call me tonight after you guys are done scouting around. We’ll figure out where to go from there. Okay?”

You don’t give Jonathan time to argue because you pull away and inform Nancy of your departure. She also frowns at the idea but has already learned that you’re not one to be told what to do. She understands this aspect of you, and you understand it within her as well, so she wishes you goodbye and tells you to stay safe before going back to shooting.

As you leave, you feel Jonathan’s eyes follow after you.

–

The walk ends up being more than enough to clear your head. You haven’t had any time to be alone in god knows how long, so it’s nice to have some time to just think and enjoy the quiet. There’s a lot you need to think about, but at the very forefront of your concerns are Will and El. You still have no idea how they’re connected or how the monster comes into play.

Then there’s Steve, oddly enough.

You’re not really sure why he’s in the midst of your thoughts, but there he is. Smiling at you and laughing at your jokes and telling you that you’re pretty as he instills a carefree sense within you that feels foreign to enjoy.

As his words ring through your head, you find your thoughts drifting towards Jonathan and the way he holds your hand every time you’re worried about something and the way he kisses your hair after a particularly hard day.

You’re not sure why the two boys almost seem to clash within your mind, but you don’t have time to look into it. Your shift starts soon and god knows how long your coworker Alex can survive on his own if you’re late.

Work is slow as usual tonight, but you find the downtime a pleasant relief. It gives you the opportunity to skim some new books that shipped in and catch up on some Spidey storylines. In between stocking books and arranging comic displays you find yourself wondering just how true to his word Dustin stayed earlier.

Like hell those kids really stayed out of the woods.

Your question is answered as soon as you get home and find your brother crying in his room. Panic immediately swells within your chest and you run over to him.

“What’s wrong?” You check Dustin’s body for any sign of injury and he lets you as he cries, too upset to wave you away. When you’re assured that he’s okay, you feel your heartbeat calm down again.

Christ, every time you see this kid he takes ten damn years off of your life.

You pull a chair from his desk and sit in front of him. “Dustin, do we need to have another code blue?”

“Maybe,” Dustin sniffles, wiping away a few tears.

“Okay, then code blue. What happened? Is everyone okay? Is it El?” At the mention of the girl’s name, Dustin flinches. Your blood runs cold. “Dustin, what happened with El?”

“You won’t yell at me?”

You smooth down his always wild hair. “Never during code blue. Please talk to me, bud.”

Dustin explains how he and the group had gone looking for the gate like they told you they would. He explained how they’d followed the train tracks throughout Hawkins for what seemed like hours.

“The train tracks that go through the same woods I told you not to go in?”

“Like hell we were gonna listen to you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

This gets Dustin to laugh a bit, which you’re relieved to see, before he continues his story. When he reveals El’s weird behavior and the way she seemed to be hiding something from them, you feel dread creep in. “Did she… Did she do something to prevent you guys from finding the gate?”

“She used her powers to mess with the compass. Lucas found the blood on her jacket.”

You sense that there’s more. “And then?”

“Mike and Lucas… they-they started fighting.” Dustin’s voice breaks, “they started really going at it, and I tried to stop them. I swear I tried, Y/N!”

“Shh,” you reach for his hand to try and calm him down. “I know you did, but I also know how Mike can get when he’s protective of someone and I know that Lucas isn’t El’s biggest fan. It was a recipe for disaster.”

Dustin snorts, “No kidding.” Then his face darkens once more, “but they wouldn’t listen, and that’s when El screamed.”

“She screamed?”

“I think she was overwhelmed, but she used her powers on Lucas and flung him across the yard and he hit his head pretty hard…”

“She what-”

“She didn’t mean to! She looked really upset after, and Lucas was fine after he woke up-”

“He was knocked unconscious?”

“And then he stormed off and El ran off. We searched for her, but…”

You stare at your brother in shock. That definitely hadn’t been what you were expecting. El never struck you as a violent girl, but she knocked Lucas out with her mind. Sure, she may have been trying to break up the fight, but you’re willing to bet that she lost control for a moment and Lucas ended up getting hurt as a result.

Maybe you don’t want superpowers.

“Y/N, have I lost all my friends?” Dustin asks.

You shush him once more. “No, of course not. You three boys have always been so drastically different from one another, and this week has been one from pure hell. It makes sense that Lucas and Mike finally snapped, but I promise you that they’ll bounce back eventually.”

“And El?”

“I’m not sure what to make of her,” you admit. “She isn’t violent, I know she’s not. But we also clearly don’t know her as well as we think we do. I just, I need you to be careful around her, okay? Fight for her, defend her like you would for the boys, but be cautious as well.”

“Cautious, got it.” He cocks his head at you, “but what about Lucas and Mike? They’re still friends, right?”

“Of course they are. Just… sometimes friendship can be hard, but it’s almost always worth fighting for. It’s rare to find friends as loyal as Mike or as brave as Lucas or even as sincere as Will. Yet look at you guys, all together; you’re all incredibly lucky to have one another.”

“Lucky like you and Jonathan?” Dustin asks, a sly glint in his eyes.

You smile, even if he’s teasing you. “Yeah, like me and Jonathan.”

Dustin returns your smile and you squeeze his hand. “Anyways, I say give Lucas some time to calm down. I think he was scared, more than anything. Tomorrow you can try to talk to him again.”

Your brother nods at your words and he seems better than he did when you first started the conversation, so you open your arms wide and engulf him into a hug.

“Code blue concluded, I guess.” Dustin mumbles against your chest, which causes the two of you to laugh.

–

After your talk with Dustin, you head back to your room and wait for Jonathan to call. You glance at the clock and figure that maybe him and Nancy were still out scouting for clues, so you busy yourself with some homework.

When it nears ten at night and the phone still hasn’t rung, you sigh and reach over for the phone on your desk. You dial Jonathan’s number and hope he simply forgot to call, but when no one answers after your fifth time calling: you begin to worry.

Ya know, maybe it wasn’t your best idea letting him and Nancy go off alone with a monster on the loose.

You find yourself frantically biking to the Wheeler’s house before you can even think about it. The night blurs past you and as you walk up their driveway and try to rest your bike against their mailbox, a familiar BMW parks next to you.

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this, Henderson.” Steve says as he sends you a wink.

You almost greet the boy before Tommy’s head pops out from the passenger side window. “Hey good lookin.”

You hear Carol berate him and the two begin to bicker as Steve gets out of the car.

Great. He brought the idiots.

Steve walks over and takes your bike from your hands. After a couple seconds of repositioning and balancing, he finally manages to get the bike to stay upright. “Tada!”

“I almost had it,” you glare at him.

“Sure ya did.”

Steve’s presence is frustrating as always, but you spot Jonathan’s car parked down the street and Carol’s shrill voice becomes increasingly irritating. You don’t have time for this right now. “What are you doing here, Harrington?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” When you glare at him, he finally says, “Nancy promised she’d call me but hasn’t, so I wanted to check on her.”

His sincerity is why you say, “I’m here for…” You realize you can’t necessarily tell Steve about Jonathan possibly being here. You have a feeling it wouldn’t end well, but you’re also not keen on lying to the boy. You’re already keeping secrets from practically everyone in your life; you don’t want to add Steve to the list. Not when he doesn’t deserve it.

“I’m looking for Jonathan,” you confess, worried about Steve’s reaction.

He frowns. “Why would Byers be here?”

“Him and Nancy have this… thing for English. Due tomorrow. A big thing. Like, huge. So they’re working on it together. In the house. Where Nancy lives. Here.” You stumble over your words, more nervous than usual, but you weren’t expecting Steve to be here or that you’d need a cover story.

“Uh huh,” something almost aggressive flickers across Steve’s face and you silently curse to yourself. You said the wrong thing.

“Funny, Nancy told me she was only helping Byers for the funeral.”

Shit.

Tommy and Carol watch from the car, obviously amused by the whole situation.

“Right! She was, now she’s working on an assignment with him.” Technically not a lie, you’re just omitting the fact that the assignment in question is monster hunting.

“You’re really bad at lying, Henderson.” Steve walks past you, now over the conversation, and you struggle to keep up. You try to block his path, assuming that he’ll use the front door, but as you near the front step he side steps you and starts heading towards the bushes.

“What are you doing?” You whisper loudly, trying not to draw too much attention to yourself.

Steve ignores your whispered yelling and jumps on top of the radiator. Once he’s up, he begins to pull himself over the overhang and up onto the roof. There’s a window just above the ledge with a light on, which you presume to be Nancy’s room due to the practiced ease in which Steve scaled the house.

You don’t try to climb up after him in fear that you’ll only end up embarrassing yourself. “Ya know, Mrs. Wheeler loves me, I could’ve just knocked on the door.”

Steve peers down at you, an easygoing smile now back on his face. “Relax, this is quicker. Besides, you gotta admit it was impressive to watch.”

Again he winks at you and you feel your cheeks flush. He’s right, it had been impressive to watch; he had made it look so easy. While you struggle to come up with a witty retort, Steve almost knocks on Nancy’s window before his smile drops.

You notice the way his face hardens. “Steve?”

He doesn’t respond, which only concerns you more. You begin to think about the millions of possibilities surrounding Nancy, Jonathan, and monster hunting; fear creeps in. “Is Nancy there? Is she okay?”

“Of course you’d be worried about Nancy right now,” Steve laughs bitterly. You frown at his words, unsure what they mean, but before you can ask anything else Steve angrily climbs back down.

“Steve, what-” He pushes past you in a frenzied hurry to get to his car, but you grab his jacket and force him to stop. “Answer me! Is Nancy okay? Was Jonathan with her?”

Steve whips around and sneers at you. “Why do you even care about them? About him?”

“Because we’re friends,” you say, and for the first time you really mean it. Nancy has become someone you’d call a friend.

Another cruel laugh escapes Steve’s lips. “Friends, huh? Yeah, those two looked real fucking cozy in her bed.”

A wave of nausea hits you.

“W-what?” You drop your hand and release his jacket.

“It’s incredible, really. Byers has some fucking nerve.” Steve runs a hand through his hair in agitation and begins to pace. You’re too numb to stop him. “I mean, look at you! He has everything he could possibly want, but he decides to go after my girlfriend.”

“It’s not like that-”

“Did he tell you they’d be in her room, alone in her bed, underneath her blanket?”

More nausea hits you. “No,”

They were supposed to look for any signs of the monster in the woods. That’s all he told me, you think.

“So he’s a liar, too.” Steve scoffs, “you deserve better, Y/N.”

And with that, he heads back to his car and drives away, leaving you standing alone once more in the Wheeler’s driveway. You get a sense of deja-vu, watching Steve’s BMW descend down the street, but only this time there’s no warmth fluttering within your stomach as he leaves.

All you feel is nausea.

You don’t remember the bike ride home; you’re not sure how you even made it back safely without crashing into anything. All you remember is that you cried the entire way.

You’ve lost Jonathan, there’s no denying that now. He’s Nancy’s, wholly and truly, he’s hers.

He was never yours in the first place, you remind yourself.

But if he was never yours in the first place, then why does it feel like you were almost something?

No.

You don’t want to think about it that way.

Yours or not, you can’t afford to lose Jonathan.

Something or everything, you’ll take whatever you can when it comes to him.

Everything, anything, nothing. Whatever he gives you, you know you’ll cling onto it with all that’s within you.

But your friendship with Jonathan is too precious to lose, too meaningful to let stupid feelings ruin it. You refuse to let anything come between your friendship with him, and you swear to yourself to shove everything down. Every hurt feeling, all the pain stabbing within your chest, you force it all down to focus on finding Will.

He’s all that matters right now, even if it feels like the thread connecting you to Jonathan has begun to wither.

Will has to come first.

You have to find him, something good and lovely has to come from this. You can’t let this all be for nothing.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎

⌑ thank you for reading ! feel free to like, comment, reblog, or send in an ask so we can chat <3

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #jonathan the man that u are ....#and steve my beloved #cannot wait to see how yall react to the field scene i feel like an evil villain

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago

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Killing Time 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, includes violence, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: a job offer could be an escape from your old life, but the new one, may not hold freedom.

Characters: Kraven the Hunter, August Walker, Lloyd Hansen, James Conrad, God the Bounty Hunter, Court Gentry

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

Your frustration mounts as you click the permissions again to allow the camera and microphone access. It’s so annoying! It just keeps running you in circles. Great. This is off to a good start. Late for the interview. That’s always the best first impression.

When at last your firewall stops blocking the call, you flinch at the sight of yourself in the corner. You’re further jarred by the man staring back at you. Your mouth opens and for a moment, you’re frozen. You were so focused on troubleshooting, you forgot about what was waiting on the other end.

“Oh, hi,” you squeak. “Sorry, I--” you look around, glancing through the clear walls of the library study room. It’s the first time you’ve been to this branch but you didn’t think the clutter of your apartment would make a good backdrop. “I was having issues with my camera.”

“Quite alright,” he responds with a grin and a lilted accent. He sounds as professional as he looks.

He wears a grey jacket over a muted teal shirt that lights up his eyes, even over the screen. His short hair is combed back neatly and there’s not a speck of stubble on his jaw. Under the structure of his attire you can tell he’s well-built.

You resist the urge to look down at yourself. A white blouse. Boring but professional. It gets the job done. Hopefully.

You force a smile.

“Thank you for meeting with me,” he begins through your nervous silence. “I do appreciate your time and I would hate to waste it. So, we can hop right in.” He looks unflinchingly into the camera, “oh, let us not go so far past courtesy. I am James, we’ve been corresponding, yes?”

“Uh, yeah, I remember. James.” You gulp.

He says your name with a keen inclination. “This is rather not the position which requires those cliche questions so I won’t trouble you with asking what animal best reflects your personality.”

You cough out a humouring chuckle and fold your hands on the desk.

“Forgive if I should seem to the point. You see, it’s a very practical position. I think it’s best we go over what is expected before we go into the finer details; expenses, relocation, dates--”

“Mm,” you squeak and put a finger up, “s-sorry, um, I thought we were interviewing but it sound like you’ve made a decision?”

“Well, yes, I’ve reviewed your CV and your submitted profile and your answers to the questionnaire were acceptable. I didn’t think there was much else to consider,” he intones. You shift and try to hide your surprise.

“No, of course, that makes sense,” you say. “Thanks, I guess I was confused.”

“Not to worry. I find that written communication can often lack clarity so I thought it best we have a face-to-face in this circumstance,” he looks down as if he has a book or paper before him. “So, did you have any questions before I proceed?”

“No, no, really, I'm sure you’ll answer them all.” Your cheeks bloom in a half-smile. You were so nervous about getting the job but you’ve already got it.

“Right then,” he sits back and once more stares down the camera. “It is a very old property but the upkeep has been consistent. There should not be any glaring necessities for maintenance, this more of a custodial position. So, you would be the one to keep the place clean, make sure it is aired out, tend to the lawns but we do employ a grounds keeping service that comes fortnightly to trim.”

You nod. It’s intriguing. You were sent photos of the property but you’re not quite sure of its purpose. Judging by the clustered pines in the background, you would guess it’s remote. A getaway that could be a goldmine for those wanting a vacation from the urban jungle.

“You would have a roster, you see, of those you could contact for service so you will not require any specialisations. You are the day-to-day and would be expected to bring in the appropriate support for higher-touch difficulties.”

“Right,” you try not to show your anxiety.

“Albeit I should warn you that the reception in that location is not the greatest so if you cannot call out, you would need to keep trying. It will eventually catch but uh, not to mind, as long it is attended is what matters, not when,” he says.

“Mhm, that makes sense. Um, can I ask what the property is? Is it like a summer home or...”

“Ah, family inheritance,” he answers primly. “I’ve not much use for it past the sentimental value and I thought of leasing it for traveling parties but I’ve heard horror stories. Right now, I’m merely sitting on it until I figure out exactly what to do with it.”

“Oh, right. Wow. Quite the inheritance.”

“Hm, yes, my uncle did rather adore me. I was the only one named in his will but he was a bit of a curmudgeon.” He laughs. “Now, I must ask the most important question--”

Before he can, the door swings open and you jump in your seat. Your heart sinks. You signed the room out for ninety minutes. You thought it would be more than enough. Surely it hasn’t been that long.

Shoot. It’s him. How did he find you? You deliberately went out of your way so that he couldn’t.

“Jake,” you stand and turn to him, trying to block the computer. “What are you doing?”

“There you are,” he touches his chest as if he should be the one so afraid. “You didn’t come home--”

You growl and cross your arms.

“Jake, go away,” you grit out. “Not right now. Please.”

“I had to make sure you’re okay,” he steps into the room and you push yourself back against the table. “Who else is going to look after you?”

“I will scream, alright,” you warn. “Now leave me alone. I’m tired of telling you.”

He sighs and his jaw squares. “I don’t get you. You act like I’m such a bad guy and I haven’t done anything to you. I never hurt you but you hurt me. You just spit in my face--”

“Pardon,” the voice rises from the speaker at your back. “If I may, she is occupied and you are interrupting. I have a mind to contact emergency service should you persist.” Your mouth falls open and you turn to look at your laptop. James leans forward to glare at the lens, “Not sure who you are, fellow, but the lady has been clear.”

“Who-- who is he?” Jake sputters.

“Please, just go,” you plead. “Or I will call the police.”

Little good they will do, you think, but that doesn’t need to be said aloud.

He frowns and his eyes glint dangerously. You stare back at him, tense, fingers curling and uncurling nervously. That man on the screen won’t stop him and you don’t know if anyone would hear you from the desk.

“Fine, guess I’ll see ya around,” he relents and backs out.

You don’t move until he snaps the door shut. You hurry over and twist the lock on the inside. You don’t know why you didn’t do that before.

“Are you alright?” James asks, drawing you back to the desk.

You sit and look at the keyboard, “I’m very sorry. I...”

“He doesn’t sound like a friend,” James says. You shake your head. “Well, then, it does sound like you’re in need of a fresh start. I do hope this can be that for you.”

You look up and bat away the glimmer on the brims of your eyes. You’re not just afraid, you’re embarrassed. His kindness is as comforting as it is unexpected.

“Thanks, um, anyway...” you exhale, “you were going to ask something.”

“Yes, uh, yes, I was,” he reconfigures and puts another smile on. “When can you depart? I would of course arrange travel to be sure you get here safe and sound.”

“Oh, when... whenever is best. Not to be too desperate but as soon as possible,” you say.

“Wonderful,” he praises, “absolutely wonderful. Is tomorrow too soon? Pardon my own desperation.”

“Tomorrow?” You utter and shake your head. “Tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow.”

It's sudden and scary but it’s good. The sooner you go, the less time Jake has to figure out what you’re doing. The less chance he can follow. It’s an escape. Not a perfect one but it’s all you have.

🩸

You spend all night packing. You parse down what you have to the essentials and put the rest in bags. You don’t care about the furniture. You say as much in your email to your landlord, telling him to use your deposit for the disposal.

You whittle your life down to three bags. A large suit case, a knapsack, and a single purse. You have it ready to go by the door.

You feel uneasy about it. You stare at your luggage, the lights off, windows closed. Your phone buzzes and you put it to silent, ignoring the messages from your personal pest. You’ll be done with him too. You wonder if you should just toss your cell.

You don’t sleep. You can’t. You still can’t believe you’re getting out. You hope you haven’t given the game away.

There’s a tap on the window. You nearly roll onto the floor. You look over and hear it again, a harder impact. Are you serious? He’s throwing stones. He could break the damn glass.

You shake your head. You won’t fall for it. Not again. You remember when he came to your door and cried until you opened up. He even smeared ketchup on his face to make you think he was hurt. It’s hard to tell the difference through a peephole.

Almost there. Almost out. You just need to make it a few more hours.

As you ignore the incessant tapping and the light of your phone glowing ever few minutes, your thoughts turn bitter. You should message everyone who turned their back on you and tell them exactly what they’ve put you through. Somehow, you think they’d care as much as they did before.

Sleep eludes you but a foggy daze comes over you as the windows soften with the early morning. There’s no more pebbles bouncing off the pane. Just you and the buzz of the sleeping city.

Your alarm chimes and you get up as your head pulses. You’re used to the constant fatigue. It will ease up and you’ll just feel a bit heavy. When it’s normal, you don’t notice as much.

You get ready and have an instant coffee by the door. James messages just before nine. Your car will be there in ten. Oh, early. You don’t mind about that.

You won’t go out and wait. You’ll stay here, where it’s safe.

When your phone goes off again, you expect it to be Jake. It’s James. Whew. You’re so close, you can’t believe it.

You grab your knapsack and purse, and drag your suitcase out behind you. You lock the door and throw the key through the mail slot. You hurry down the hall and take the stairs over the elevator.

You don’t look back or anyway but forward. You look at your cell. 'Black Jaguar’ followed by a plate number. Jaguar? Holy moly.

The tinted window rolls down and reveals the same face from the Zoom call. You didn’t know he was coming himself. You assumed he was sending a cab or something. You slow as you come out the door. He smiles and pops open the door.

Before you can come forward, another figure appears, blocking your way.

“Hey, I've been calling all night,” Jake says. You stop short and nearly yelp. Of course!

“Jake, move.”

“Where are you going?” He looks at your bags desperately. “Wait, you can’t--”

“Pardon me, sir, is there some issue?” James strides up behind him.

Jake turns to face him and stiffens, “and who are you—wait, you’re that guy from the computer.”

“I’m none of your business, as is her life,” James insists. “Now, seems you’re used to picking on those smaller than you but let’s see how you do against me?”

James steps closer. He’s a few inches taller than Jake. You can’t move as they stare each other down. You wait, expecting chaos.

“I was only talking,” Jake shows his palms and shrugs. “It’s whatever. She’s a bitch anyways.”

He turns and snarls over his shoulder at you. You back up. As Jake turns, he’s knocked off kilter as James hurls his fist into his jaw. The shorter man staggers and falls to one knee, catching himself in the grass.

“Well, that was a lovely chat,” James smirks and beckons to you, “shall we?”

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merrybloomwrites · 7 months ago

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Damien Haas - Vet Waiting Room

Summary: Who knew cats could be wingmen? A chance encounter in the vet waiting room can lead to more for Damien and Y/N.

Word Count: 674

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You absolutely love your cat. Shadow is the cutest, sweetest, chunkiest boy. But god forbid you try to trim his nails. You’ve nearly lost an eyeball one too many times and decided to just pay professionals to do nail trims every couple months.

It’s a bit of an inconvenience, needing to block out an hour so frequently just to get your cat's nails cut, but they’re so good with him that the time and money is worth it.

You’re waiting at the vet’s office for Shadow to be called back when someone walks in with a cat carrier of his own. He signs in and sits next to you on the bench. The first thing you notice is the purple in his hair. The next thing you notice is the biggest, fluffiest cat you’ve ever seen sitting in his carrier.

He notices you looking at him and introduces himself, holding out a hand and saying “Hi, I’m Damien.”

You politely shake his hand and say, “Hi Damien, I’m Y/N. And who is this?” you ask, in regard to his cat.

“This here is Zelda, she’s my big ‘ol chonk,” he replies, his voice full of love for his pet. “Who do you have with you?”

“This is Shadow, he’s also my biggest boy. His brother is home,” you over explain.

“Are they actual brothers?” you nod and he continues saying, “That’s really cool! I call my two cats sisters but they’re not related. They just get along like typical sisters do.”

“Oh yea, my boys definitely act like brothers. All the fights are worth seeing them randomly cuddle together though.”

“Oh I absolutely agree,” Damien says.

He opens his mouth to speak again but the receptionist calls him back to a patient room. “It was nice meeting you,” he says as he gets up.

“You too,” you reply and he walks away.

The receptionist says, “The techs are just a little behind, we’ll get Shadow taken care of soon.”

As you sit and wait, you can’t stop thinking about Damien. Even when Shadow is taken back for his nail trim, you can’t stop kicking yourself for not getting Damien’s number. Your friends are always telling you to put yourself out there, maybe join some dating sites, but you explain that you’d rather meet someone naturally.

And now you’ve met someone. This could’ve been a perfect opportunity and you totally blew it.

Shadow is brought back out and you pay for the service. You hope that Damien will be out before you leave, but now you’ve run out of reasons to be there. You walk out and start to load Shadow into the car.

Just as you’re about to get in the driver’s seat you hear someone calling your name. Turning around you see Damien walking out of the office, struggling to catch up while carrying Freya in her carrier.

“Hold on,” he says, “Just let me-” he cuts himself off and goes to his car, setting Freya inside as you watch amusedly.

He walks back to you and nervously says, “Totally understand if not, but uh, would you maybe want to go out sometime?”

Even though you’re introverted, and truthfully nervous about the idea of a date, you manage to confidently answer, “Yea, I’d like that.”

He breathes a sigh of relief, alerting you that he’s just as nervous as you are, and he says, “Could I get your number and I’ll reach out to set something up?”

“That’s perfect,” you reply and the two of you exchange numbers.

After another goodbye to Damien, with his promise to text you soon, you finally get into your car. Turning to Shadow in the seat next to you, you say, “I guess I need to thank you for hating nail trims, since you technically got me a date.” You laugh, letting out the excited and nervous energy bubbling in you.

As you text back and forth with Damien that night to set up your date, Shadow gets extra treats for being such a good wingman.

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AN: Thank you for reading! I have one more Damien story coming out in a couple of weeks!

#damien haas x reader #smosh fanfiction

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featherandferns · 6 months ago

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daylight - ten

jj maybank x fem!reader | part 10 of the daylight series | read part 9 here

content warnings: mentions of abuse and bereavement

word count: 1.5k.

blurb: fulfilling your promise to Barry, what starts as a photoshoot for his website turns into some well-meaning advice.

“What’s biting your bark?”

You lower your camera down from your line of sight so you can meet Barry’s eyes. You hope that way you can decipher what he just said, but no. “What?”

“What’s the matter?” he translates with an eye roll. You shrug.

“Nothing. Why’d you ask?”

A small smirk starts to show as he nods to your camera. “Because you’ve just taken about five pictures with the lens protector still on.”

Frowning, you look down to your camera to find that he’s telling the truth. “Oh.”

You take it off and pocket it. How did you not notice?

“Something on your mind?”

“It’s not important,” you politely dodge, flashing him a smile. Barry raises his brows and you get the feeling that he’s not easily discouraged.

“This might come as a shock to you, but I was young once too,” Barry says. “So what is it? Boy trouble? Girl trouble?”

The apparent gay-rights ally Barry stands stoic, brow quirked and hands stuffed in his overall pockets, as he waits for your reply. You’re a little alarmed how easy he had your number down.

“Boy trouble, I guess,” you sigh. Shaking your head, you renew your smile. “It’s really not a big deal though. Let’s get these shots done before we lose the light, huh?”

To distract your busy mind from thoughts of JJ, you had gone to Barry’s to fulfil your offer of completing promo shots for his website. He was more than happy to indulge. He even went to the effort of putting on a fresh pair of overalls.

“Is this that Maybank kid?”

Okay, can this guy read your mind or something? The bewildered look on your face must be answer enough as Barry lets out a raspy laugh. His voice sounds like he’s been gurgling gas and inhaling smog for most of his years on earth. It’s weirdly comforting, like the smell of warm, fresh sawdust.

“Come on, kid,” he says, wandering over to one of the plastic lawn chairs that sits outside his garage. “Indulge me.”

For some reason, you do. You take the seat next to him, your camera turned off and placed in your lap.

“We, uh, got in this dumb fight the other day,” you find yourself saying. “You see, we’ve been spending more and more time together and just getting closer, I guess you could say.”

“Close enough to leave space for Jesus?” Barry wonders. Your face burns hot red.

“Me and you aren't good enough friends yet for you to get that kind of info, Barry,” you jokingly return, hoping your fluster doesn’t show. Barry bobs his head, your joshing response seemingly answer enough.

“Like I said, I was young once too,” comes his coded reply.

“Anyway,” you say, redirecting the conversation, “I started to get all twitchy about it ‘cause I didn’t know where we stood. And I’ve never been good at complicated. You see, I sorta dated this guy back when I lived in Canada and I guess you could say he did a number on me.”

“He mess ya around?”

“To put it nicely, yeah,” you say, smiling smally. “So I’m not very good at opening up to new possibilities and stuff. It doesn’t help that JJ’s so hard to read, either. He’s the kinda guy who says one thing but does another. And I know people tend to see what they want to see, but I swear to God, sometimes I catch him looking at me in a way that makes me think that maybe there’s something more there.”

“Would that be so bad if there was?” Barry wonders, slouching back in his chair.

Frowning, you look at him. His question passes in and out of your mind as realisation dawns upon you. “I can’t believe I just told you all of that.”

“I’m easy to talk to, kid," Barry shrugs. "My wife always said I was given God’s gifted ears: always good to listen but never much to talk."

You laugh softly.

“Yeah, she always came through with the good-enough advice for the both of us.”

Pursing your lips, you ponder his earlier question. You can’t seem to settle on an answer. “I’m not sure if it would be a bad thing. I guess I’m just scared that whatever the answer is, things might change. I don’t know if I want them to. I like how we are now.”

“And yet, you don’t,” Barry observes.

Chuckling, you nod. “Yeah. Guess I can’t win, eh?”

Looking down, you fiddle with the buttons and dials on your camera. Barry’s quiet for a while and you can practically hear his rusty cogs turning in his mind.

“You met that kid’s dad yet?” he asks, out of the blue.

“Who? JJ’s? No, I haven’t met him yet,” you say. “I’ve heard a bit about him though.”

“He’s a troubled guy,” Barry sighs. Shaking his head, he says, “I was friends with him a while back but some people just wanna drown, and sometimes you gotta swim away before you get taken down with ‘em. But that poor kid: he got stuck with two shabby parents. His mama up and left, and before that she was a lying, cheatin’ son of a bitch - not to speak too out of turn. His papa probably has a closer relationship with a bottle than with the kid.”

You think back to the other night, sat in JJ’s house, surrounded by trash and tumult. JJ’s own drinking and smoking habits were easy to catch onto. It worried you plenty but it felt wrong to lecture. He omitted his parents from most stories and anecdotes but you suppose you didn't notice all that much as you had a habit of doing the same.

“I say all this ‘cause I think you gotta understand something. That poor son of a bitch didn’t have the best example of what love was growing up,” Barry says with a sad shrug. “Sometimes that means you don’t always know it when you see it. So, maybe he don’t know how to tell you ‘cause he don’t know what it is.”

You sigh and look out to the desolate road that sits outside his garage. “Y’know, JJ told me about your wife and daughter. I’m really sorry.”

Barry goes quiet but the air doesn’t feel tense. You take it as space to continue.

“Your daughter was really pretty. I saw her in that photo in your shop.”

“She were an angel. God just needed her back home,” Barry quietly returns.

Looking to him, you smile, small and sympathetic.

Grunting, Barry leans forward. “Look, I’ve known JJ since he was yea-high,” he says, gesturing with his hand to the height of a small child. “He’s got a good heart but a short fuse. He runs.”

“That maybe explains why I haven’t heard from him since our fight,” you mumble. Barry’s smile feels like confirmation.

“But I tell you one thing that I do know. Just like my little angel: that kid is loyal to the bone. If he cares for someone, he sinks his darn talons in and don’t let go - no matter what. Even his dear old pops he’ll defend to the end of the earth if someone dare say a bad word ‘bout him, despite all the beating and berating.”

Your brows knit with that and your heart lurches.

“So, if you come a’callin’ then he’ll come a’runnin’, I’ll tell you that now,” Barry assures you. “You just gotta know what you’re callin’ for.”

Nodding, you take in his advice. It helps ease the anxious insomnia that has been eating away at you these past few days. You start to feel as though a path is being carved out for you, fresh and foreign, different to the one you tread with Tyler.

“Why are you so nice to me?” you ask Barry.

His eyes hold the weight of the worlds within them as he smiles kindly at you. “Cause you remind me of my daughter. I like to think that if she had lived to be your age, she’d have been just like you.”

That mark of high praise etches itself into your brain. You wear it like a badge of honour the way a wartime soldier might with his medals, and sit in quiet disbelief that someone would say something so generous to you.

After Barry’s well-guided advice, you get back to the photoshoot. You feel as though you saw him different through the camera lens after that. Every wrinkle on his forehead formed a map of his life: of hours spent at gravesites; of restless nights, alone in his house; of hard work at the garage, fixing and pimping out cars and trucks. Whilst some might say Barry wasn’t book-smart, he didn’t need to be. He was smart in the things that mattered. People and problems. With that intelligence, you find that as you walk back into your house, things feel less cluttered in your mind. It’s like he gave you the boxes to help organise all the thoughts you’d accumulated about JJ.

As you approach your bedroom door, that content smile that had stitched itself to your skin the whole journey home fades as you find it closed. You distinctly remember leaving it open. Slowly cracking it open, your mouth drops with your bag when your eyes land on the person sat on your bed.

“Mimsy?”

read part eleven here!

taglist:

#jj #jj maybank #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #obx #outer banks #outerbanks #obx fic #outer banks fic #outerbanks fic #jj fic #jj maybank fic #jj x fem!reader #jj maybank x fem!reader

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sluttywonwoo · 1 year ago

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hiii, congrats on 12k!!! not surprised, but very happy for you! can i request a “if you called just to get off to my voice, im hanging up” + wonwoo (who else, honestly)? i think you’d have a great concept considering your #1 whore for wonwoo

i’m honored to receive such a title <3

he answers on the fourth ring. his voice is raspy, coated with sleep and annoyance.

“what do you want?”

“i uh, i just missed you,” you say into the receiver.

it isn’t a lie. you just aren’t missing him in the way you’re implying. you’re sure wonwoo will be able to see right through that but you’re hoping he’s been just as horny as you’ve been and will go along with it.

“what?”

“i missed you.”

silence follows, making you wonder if he’s fallen back asleep before you hear him scoff.

“missed me how?”

“oh you know… like i’d miss any other friend-”

“if you called just to get off to my voice, i’m hanging up.”

“wait!” you shout, likely startling the poor man who had just been trying to sleep. “how’d you know?”

“i can hear your vibrator.”

your grip on the toy tightens and you fumble with the buttons, trying to turn it off. god damn speaker phone.

“how? it was under the covers and everything!”

“all of my other senses are pretty strong since i can’t see shit. they say that lacking in one heightens the others, you know?”

“i guess?”

“i haven’t seen you in weeks either. it wasn’t hard to guess what you’re doing or why you’re calling.”

your lips press into a pout even though he can’t see you.

“well, goodnight then,” he mumbles.

“wait, don’t!” you plead again. “please, nonu…”

he groans. the nickname always got him. always. it’s how you’d convinced him to do so many things with you over the years.

“don’t…” he grumbles.

“you’re not the tiniest bit turned on?” you ask. “you don’t like the idea of me fucking myself in my bed to the thought of you?”

“it’s not that i don’t like it, it’s that i need to sleep.”

“but please,” you groan. “i can’t cum without you anymore. i’ve been trying for days now and nothing works.”

“fuck.”

you grin. the way to his dick has always been through his ego.

“make it quick,” he sighs out.

you giggle, cheering quietly as you turn your vibrator back on.

“are you going to touch yourself too?” you ask eagerly.

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“well, yeah.”

“maybe.” he sounds indifferent and you can picture him shrugging. “if you make those pretty noises i like so much, i might not be able to resist.”

“i’ll do whatever you want. just keep talking.”

“and what is it you want me to say to you, huh? you want to hear how much i miss you? how i have to fuck my hand to the thought of you every night just to get to sleep? already did it tonight that’s why i was dead asleep when you called but i might get hard again if you don’t stop moaning like that.”

“fuck, wonwoo.”

“feeling good, baby? bet you wish it was me there instead of that stupid toy right?”

“yes,” you cry. “wish it was you. miss your cock so much… i wish you’d just come home already.”

“it’s only another week,” he reasons.

“that’s too long!”

“you’ll live.”

“i won’t,” you groan.

“that’s why you had to call me?” he teases. you can hear the smile in his voice.

“uh huh.”

“needed to hear my voice so you could cum?”

“y-yes.”

“guess you just have to hope i’m feeling nice enough to let you,” he muses.

“what?”

“don’t you remember? when we’re together i decide when you cum. that includes over the phone.”

“but wonwoo-”

“you’re the one who called me,” he reminds you. “so if you really want it you’ll just have to work for it.”

12k celebration

#answered #anon #sluttywonwoo’s 12k #seventeen smut #svt smut #wonwoo smut #wonu smut #jeon wonwoo smut #jeon wonu smut

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angelicallyresurrecting · 2 months ago

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YOOOOOOO, A MULTIVERSE TRAVELER JUST LIKE ME???

Argh...

yeppp! welcome to the pocket dimension by the way. it’s my sorta safe space from my real universe. and other ones

#“ you’ve been answered by uh.. god. i guess. not really! “#tagsforthetagsgod #im going insane #my persona #stickfigure oc #ragh #askblog now ig

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edenmemes · 2 years ago

Text

resident evil: 4 remake starters

❝ man, that stinks. ❞ ❝ this just keeps getting worse. ❞ ❝ you’re still a kid holding onto fantasies of what’s right and wrong. ❞ ❝ i’m gonna let you in on a little secret. just between us. ❞ ❝ the hell is going on? ❞ ❝ hey, we’re a team, right? ❞ ❝ where’s everyone going? bingo? ❞ ❝ you and me are two sides of the same coin. ❞ ❝ that’s just like you. you always had poor judgement. ❞ ❝ ah, so you aren’t heartless after all. ❞ ❝ like i told you, i’m gonna get you home safe. ❞ ❝ i’m not falling for your mind games. ❞ ❝ you proved you can handle yourself. ❞ ❝ you haven’t changed a damn bit. ❞ ❝ you look like you’ve got something to say. ❞ ❝ gotta fix everything myself. ❞ ❝ you can’t run. you got to keep moving forward. ❞ ❝ you’re nothing but an extra in my script. ❞ ❝ i thought you were gonna die. ❞ ❝ i don’t pay you to ask questions. ❞ ❝ there’s no time for resting. ❞ ❝ revenge? you think i’m doing all this...for revenge? ❞ ❝ i need you to trust me, and do exactly as i say. ❞ ❝ you’re too soft to do what’s necessary. ❞ ❝ i know your potential better than anyone. ❞ ❝ you’ve made it all this way, but you haven’t learned a thing. ❞ ❝ maybe you’ll live to meet me again. ❞ ❝ the most important thing in this world is pure, unadulterated power. ❞ ❝ i’ve something to ask you...but i don’t think i’ll get a straight answer. ❞ ❝ you didn’t answer my question. what’re you after? ❞ ❝ you know, you were always an asshole. ❞ ❝ you have a strange sense of humor. ❞ ❝ you are nothing if not unyielding. ❞ ❝ i just wanna feel good about myself. make amends. or something like that. ❞ ❝ just give me a heads-up before you stab me next time, okay? ❞ ❝ it’s okay to be afraid, you know. ❞ ❝ what do you think? people can change, right? ❞ ❝ not looking good, eh, my friend? ❞ ❝ you try to save one person; a hundred others die. ❞ ❝ was that an act of defiance? against me? ❞ ❝ a well-tuned weapon can make up for a lack of skill. ❞ ❝ i’ll let myself out. ❞ ❝ you won’t get away with this. ❞ ❝ be a shame to live the rest of your life wondering ‘what if’ - am i right? ❞ ❝ you have the stench of battle on you. ❞ ❝ so, tell me, why did you come to this horrible place? ❞ ❝ you wanna help? cause i could use it. ❞ ❝ if i could just forget what happened that night, the pain - even for a second... ❞ ❝ i knew i could count on you. ❞ ❝ i think you’d be pretty dashing in it. ❞ ❝ i’m not used to having such good company. ❞ ❝ hey. it’s dangerous outside. ❞ ❝ god damn...i was almost a pancake. ❞ ❝ a lot of people have gone missing around here. and it’s been like that for a while now. ❞ ❝ sorry. i, uh, screwed up. ❞ ❝ i’m so scared. when that happened...i wasn’t myself any more. ❞ ❝ well done. you’ve proven yourself reliable. ❞ ❝ won’t be going anywhere in this thing. ❞ ❝ sorry, didn’t realize that was yours. ❞ ❝ this time, it can be different. it has to. ❞ ❝ everything will work out just fine. ❞ ❝ you missed. that’s not like you. ❞ ❝ come to my rescue, prince charming! ❞ ❝ sometimes it’s more fun not knowing. ❞ ❝ if you do well, i’ll make it worth your while. ❞ ❝ that hurts, you know. ❞ ❝ this is one hell of a gloomy place. ❞ ❝ why help me, though? what’s in it for you? ❞ ❝ oh, well, maybe just untie me then? ❞ ❝ knowledge is power. remember that. ❞ ❝ i can’t tell if that’s meant to be a compliment. ❞ ❝ i’m sure you’ll do your best to help me. ❞ ❝ bill me for the repairs later. ❞ ❝ it seemed like you really wanted to talk. ❞ ❝ you know, those things will kill you. ❞ ❝ you haven’t changed. you just think you have. ❞ ❝ don’t let the smallfry distract you from the big fish. ❞ ❝ quiet type, eh? ❞ ❝ guess you picked the wrong spot to vacation. ❞ ❝ a most warm welcome to my castle. ❞ ❝ bet you’ve been in spots like this before. ❞ ❝ to think you could be this foolish. ❞ ❝ give me a break already. ❞ ❝ i’m sorry. i wish i could do more to help. ❞ ❝ i don’t want to recall what happened down there. ❞ ❝ years haven’t been kind to us, i suppose. ❞ ❝ finally, some peace and quiet. ❞ ❝ who are you? and what are you doing here? ❞ ❝ i’m just an average guy who happens to be quite the ladies’ man. ❞ ❝ you should really be telling me what a good job i did. ❞ ❝ is this the first time you coughed up blood like this? ❞ ❝ so much for helping me. ❞ ❝ so, who are you working for this time? ❞ ❝ you think i’m gonna give up that easily? ❞ ❝ hey, are you sure you’re good? ❞ ❝ i’m gonna get you home safe. ❞ ❝ i have a plan. but you’re going to have to trust me. ❞ ❝ gimme some space. ❞ ❝ i don’t get you. why risk your life like this? ❞ ❝ it’s a little over-the-top, don’t you think? ❞ ❝ they’re coming! get behind me. ❞ ❝ does that hurt? are you in pain? distressed? ❞ ❝ you are really starting to become a giant pain in my ass. ❞ ❝ you know i don’t work and tell. ❞ ❝ you’ve done well to make it this far. ❞ ❝ tell someone who gives a shit. ❞ ❝ happy to help. now you owe me. ❞ ❝ are you just trying to use me again? ❞ ❝ what’re you, my mother? ❞ ❝ i’m definitely gonna catch a cold. ❞ ❝ this artwork...doesn’t it look like it’s telling some kind of story? ❞ ❝ what do we do? there’s no way out. ❞ ❝ what’s wrong with wanting the same for myself? ❞ ❝ it’s a little old fashioned for my taste. ❞ ❝ you’re losing your cool. making mistakes. ❞ ❝ don’t scare me like that. ❞ ❝ you’re slow. and so goddamn weak. ❞ ❝ wow, you’ve really gone all out for me! you shouldn’t have. ❞ ❝ i will send you back to the hell you came from. ❞ ❝ heheh, having a rough day? ❞ ❝ the reaper comes for cowards and the careless alike. which are you? ❞ ❝ i’ve got to think. need to get my head straight. ❞ ❝ i shall leave tomorrow. go far away. ❞ ❝ here’s my question...have you changed? ❞ ❝ we will beat this. together. ❞ ❝ what’s wrong? show no mercy! ❞ ❝ i admit - you’ve done well to stay alive this long. ❞ ❝ this means death. a slow, miserable death. ❞

#rp meme #rp starters #roleplay meme #roleplay starters

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harrywavycurly · 6 months ago

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How would Niall bring us up in an interview?😍

Hiii babes!!! Oh love this question, so I’m gonna go off of the bf Niall series I have going on to answer this! I did it as a conversation between Niall and an interviewer! I hope you enjoy💖

-find all thing Boyfriend Niall Horan here✨

A/N: Niall gets asked about a certain instagram post of yours that takes him on a spiral of how long has he actually been in love with you?✨

“So Niall before we let you go there’s just one thing that’s been eating at me…” “Oh? What’s that?” “Well…I noticed a certain caption of a photo of you on your…bestfriend’s instagram-” “why’d ya do the finger quotes when you said bestfriend? You don’t think she’s my bestfriend?” “I’m sure she is but..have you seen this photo?” “Let me see here…oh would you look at that?..she always gets the best shots of me doesn’t she? Now you’re saying the caption is what’s bothering you?” “Well read it to us and you tell us what it means.” “It says…oh god…it uh well it says…yup that’s my man right there…” “and that means?” “That means…I’m her man and…I’m right there with three beers in my hand and a smile on my face for those of you tuning in at home who can’t see this absolutely beautiful photo of me that my wonderful girlfriend posted…on the internet.” “So she is your girlfriend then?” “Yeah…has been for a few months now.” “But you two have known each other for a few years right?” “Uh yeah? I think like two years now…hit it off right away and pretty sure I fell in love with her the moment she called me an asshole like five minutes after we met…but that’s a story for another time.” “Wait wait wait…you’ve loved her since you met her but you’re only just now dating?” “I mean…I don’t mean I was really in love with her I just mean she kinda knocked me on my ass and turned my world upside down and like…yeah.” “It’s giving you’ve loved her this whole time Niall…” “god she’s gonna proper kick my ass now thanks to you…I mean yeah I guess I have always loved her? But I wasn’t ready to fall in love with her until recently because I just..I had shit to deal with and didn’t want to put her through that.” “So just being besties was fine for two years?” “Yeah because I just needed her in my life and I took what I could get.” “Did you two date other people during this time or no?” “Uh..well uhm-” “uh oh…did you date other people and she didn’t?” “She dated and I didn’t….her dating other people is what made me get my head outta my ass and tell her how I was feeling.” “We know that obviously went well.” “It ended up going well but like…I knew she felt the same way about me in the beginning when we first met…we had a conversation about it and that’s when I told her I’m not ready for anything close to a serious relationship and that’s why we decided to be friends…so I was terrified to tell her my feelings for her never went away they actually just got stronger because what if she didn’t feel anything for me anymore? I was proper panicking and then she just told me she felt the same way and that once again…I’m an asshole for making her wait so long but that she would’ve waited as long as I needed because she knows I’m it for her.” “Oh god…damn it Niall not you making me cry…that’s so sweet oh my god…” “sorry…I just..I could talk about her for ages and ages if I’m being honest…but yeah she’s my girlfriend and I uh I just love her even though she is the worst photographer in the world…and yes lover of mine since I know you’re listening…I mean it… the absolute worst.” “Thank you so much for jointing us today Niall! And thanks for telling us your love story…friends to lovers is my favorite trope.” “Thanks for having me…kinda felt like a therapy session towards the end there…gotta get all that sappy stuff off my chest…oh I’m an enemies to lovers kinda guy…I love good banter…but yeah thanks for having me and talk to you lovely lot later!”

Instagram Post Mentioned:

#Niall Horan convos #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fluff #niall horan fic #niall horan x reader #Niall Horan fanfic #niall horan x you #niall horan x y/n #niall Horan x fem!reader #niall horan series #niall horan imagine #Niall Horan social media au #boyfriend!niall #niall horan request #my little irish marshmallow #niall horan #one direction fanfiction #one direction fluff

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runninriot · 1 year ago

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written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles

Day 10

prompt: first kiss | rated: T | cw: underage drinking | tags: Robin, Steve & Eddie are friends, confessions, coming out

“What d’you mean you never had your first kiss?”

Oops. Did he say that out loud? Shit. Eddie knew he should’ve gone easy on the rum. But they’ve been running around town all afternoon to buy Christmas presents for the kids and when they finally made their way back to Steve’s, the idea of having some rum-spiked hot cocoa to warm them up from the inside sounded great. And it was - up until now.

Now, he’s being reminded of the fact that alcohol loosens his tongue, makes him say things he usually would keep to himself.

“Uh, yeah? It’s no big deal.” Eddie tries to play it down, tries to ignore the heat spreading uncomfortably in his cheeks.

“No. Hold up. Eddie, are you really telling me you’ve never kissed anyone? Not once?” Steve’s eyes are huge and Eddie searches for mockery in them, finds only honest confusion.

“Well, Steve. Not everyone starts their slutty era as young as you did,” Robin defends him. Maybe because she can sense how embarrassed Eddie feels. Maybe because she knows something about him that Steve doesn’t.

“Yeah yeah, I know. Keep making fun of me but- I can’t believe it, Eddie. You’re 19 and no one has ever been worthy enough for you to kiss them?”

The way he phrases it makes Eddie’s insides twist into a knot, makes his heart flutter at the notion of Steve actually thinking anyone had ever wanted to kiss him.

Because the truth is that no one has.

“What can I say? Maybe I’m just waiting for the right one.” Eddie laughs, makes it sound like a silly joke to hide the fact that in another universe, the right one would be sitting right next to him. Not in this life, though. He’ll never know what Steve’s lips taste like.

“I’d rather not had my first kiss at all than the one I got. Middle school, Jackson Hughes. Planted one right on me, wet and sloppy. Ugh, guess that’s when I knew I don’t like boys.”

Steve shoots her an alarmed look.

“It’s okay, Steve. He knows,” Robin answers his silent question, obviously referring to Eddie knowing about her being a lesbian.

“Oh. G-good. That’s good.”

“Takes one to know one.” Eddie chokes on a laugh.

FUCK!

Did he really just out himself in front of Steve?

As if his earlier confession hadn’t been enough to throw him off, the look on Steve’s face now is even worse. Not like- he doesn’t look disgusted or anything. More like, surprised. His facial expressions going from confused to… soft? So soft in fact, that Eddie suddenly has a hard time breathing.

“Oookay. That was awkward. Moving on. Who wants another?” Eddie quickly jumps up from the sofa, waving his empty cup at the others, not even waiting for their response before he makes his way to the kitchen.

He needs to do something, needs to get away. Splash some cold water into his face to cool down, sober up. Maybe getting another drink isn’t a good idea, after all.

Eddie braces his hands on the edge of the counter, drops his head down and sighs.

Shitshitshit!

Yeah, nope. He should not get another drink. Not if he doesn’t cut out his own tongue first. He already said too much, already confessed too many things for one evening. What comes next? Telling Steve that he’s hopelessly in love with him?

Over my dead body.

No one needs to know that. Especially not Steve. So, yeah. Definitely no more rum for him. He should probably go home and hide under his blanket until the end of days or at least-

“Eddie?”

He turns around quickly, trying his best to steady himself.

“Are you okay?”

Steve’s eyes are warm and his voice is gentle and Eddie just wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“Yeah. Just needed a minute. That was not exactly how I planned on telling you.” Eddie laughs but it sounds strange even to his own ears.

God, you’re pathetic.

The other boy steps closer and Eddie feels like he’s frozen in place. His heart beats like crazy when Steve stops only inches away from him, so close now that Eddie can feel warmth radiating off Steve’s body.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you, too. A-about me.”

Eddie thinks he can feel, hear, and smell the wires in his brain short-circuiting. His mouth drops open, eyes blown wide in disbelief.

What?

“I’m… bi. Apparently.” He shrugs his shoulders and smiles shyly at him.

“Th- that’s. Cool.” Eddie stutters, doesn’t really know what to say when his mind offers nothing he can share.

Steve likes boys? Maybe I have a chance. Maybe he likes me too? Shut up, Munson! He’s so pretty. I want to kiss him so badly...

“And I-“ Steve bites down on his bottom lip as if he’s trying to prevent himself from talking.

“I wanted to tell you for a while that I-“

Eddie knows he’s being delusional but he can’t take it anymore. He needs to know.

“I like you, Steve. A lot. I-“

Steve's whole face lights up and Eddie's head is spinning.

“Can I kiss you?”

He doesn’t know how exactly it happens or who starts it but somehow he finds himself glued to Steve’s lips not even a second later - his hands in Steve’s hair, Steve’s hands wrapped around his middle, their bodies pressed against one another so close that he thinks he can feel Steve’s heartbeat in his own chest.

Eddie must’ve died and gone to heaven because he is kissing Steve and Steve is kissing him back and it’s nothing like anything he’s ever felt or tasted before. A tender brush of lips, a hesitant tongue asking silently for permission, Steve’s hot breath on his face, the sweet little noises they both make… it’s like a dream come true.

And yeah. If waiting 19 years got him this - he'd do it all over again.

#steddieholidaydrabbles #day 10 #eddie munson #steve harrington #first kiss

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ladyeyrewrites · 2 months ago

Text

Bun in the Oven

Rated M

Chapter 1/4

2160 words

chapter One of the trans!Tommy mpreg episode 8X07 rewrite I posted a snippet of on Wednesday.

Read on Ao3 or below the cut

There was a knock on the door.

Buck frowned. It was a bit early for it to be Maddie and Chimney but maybe they’d lucked out with the traffic situation. He wiped his hands on his apron, stepped away from the stand mixer, and answered the door.

It wasn’t Maddie and Chimney.

Instead, Tommy’s broad frame filled his doorway.

Buck’s breath caught in his throat. “Tommy, hi,” he said. “I was just thinking about you.” It was true. Buck hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Tommy since he’d overcorrected after the whole Abby reveal and asked Tommy to move in only for Tommy to break up with him because of some bullshit about Buck breaking Tommy’s heart in the future. So, Buck had done the only logical thing: purchased a stand mixer and filled his fridge with baked goods.

Honestly, Buck wasn’t sure if he was more angry or sad about the whole situation, but he did know that his stomach still swooped at the sight of Tommy standing in his door and it took every bit of self-control not to lean in to give Tommy a kiss hello. Not to wrap his arms around Tommy and pull him inside and never let him go.

“Sorry, I should’ve called before just showing up,” said Tommy. “But I think I left one of my chargers here and I can’t find my other one. So, dead phone.” Tommy sounded on the verge of tears which seemed strange when he could’ve just gone out and bought a new charger rather than checking to see if he’d left one at Buck’s. But maybe it wasn’t about the charger, maybe Tommy just wanted an excuse to see Buck.

Or was Buck letting himself get his hopes up for no reason?

“I uh, haven’t seen it. But are you okay? You look like you’re about to cry.” He wanted to reach out and touch Tommy, to offer some sort of comfort, but that wasn’t his place anymore. Tommy had taken that away.

Tommy shook his head. “Mood swings,” he says.

“Yeah, well break ups will do that I guess,” said Buck.

“That and I think I’m still adjusting to my new birth control,” said Tommy. About a month before the break-up Tommy’s primary care physician had suddenly retired and Buck had helped Tommy scramble to find another in-network provider who understood the healthcare needs of trans men. It had been such a headache and then once they’d found a doctor he’d wanted to adjust Tommy’s dosages and change Tommy’s birth control method from an oral contraceptive to an implant in the hopes that it would lessen the daily dose of dysphoria Tommy got when taking the pill.

“Listen, Buck—” Tommy started.

Buck flinched. God, it sounded so wrong hearing his nickname coming out of Tommy’s lips. It made him want to scream. But he was trying to be mature about this. Trying to be civil. Trying not to cling since that was clearly what Tommy wanted, and Buck could respect that even if he hated it. “I found some of your shirts in the laundry,” Buck said before Tommy could say anything else that was probably going to break Buck’s heart again. “I was going to text you.” Which was maybe a lie, because sure Buck had thought about texting Tommy, but never about the shirts.

He'd composed texts with everything he’d wished he’d said to Tommy instead of letting him walk out the door that night.

Texts that devolved into spiteful rants.

Miss you texts.

u up? texts.

All deleted and transmuted into baked goods: cakes, cookies, scones, loafs, Baked Alaska.

It seemed Tommy wanted to look anywhere but directly at Buck, which was just another thing Buck had lost. Buck blinked against threatening tears as Tommy glanced around Buck’s loft, eyes taking in the subtle changes that had taken place since they’d broken up, until his gaze settled on the mess that was Buck’s kitchen island. “You’ve been baking.”

Sure, Buck had baked with Chris before to help out with a school bake sale since Eddie was so culinarily clueless, but he hadn’t really done it in his own time until he’d found out about Tommy’s sweet tooth. He’d been practicing to make something for Tommy’s birthday but then Tommy had to go and dump him. Bitterness spiked through him. “Yeah. Anytime I get the urge to call you, I just I channel the impulse into something positive, like Baked Alaska.”

Tommy’s face twisted with regret, eyes growing glassy. Buck wasn’t sure if that had been his intention or not, but maybe it would be good for Tommy to really see how much Buck had been thinking about him. So, Buck walked over to the fridge and pulled out three loaves, making sure the fridge door was opened wide enough for Tommy to see the extent of Buck’s foray into baking and how often he’d been thinking about reaching out. “Here, you should take some.” He plopped three loaves into Tommy’s unprotesting arms. “Here’s a lemon loaf, and a walnut loaf, and a pumpkin loaf.”

“That’s a lotta loaf,” Tommy managed to say. “Buck, I—”

“Hang on, let me go grab those shirts,” said Buck because hearing Tommy call him by his nickname rather than his name made him want to scream and he didn’t want to do that, not when Tommy looked like anything could cue the waterworks at any moment. So, Buck might have fled his kitchen, jogging upstairs to grab the reusable tote bag of Tommy’s tee shirts and flannels he’d accumulated over their six months together. That bag had been haunting him every night as he lay in bed – alone – trying to fall asleep, wondering if Tommy was also alone or if he’d already managed to find a rebound.

Buck hefted the bag and his heart panged. Once he gave this stuff back, Tommy would well and truly be gone from his life. There’d be no excuse for Buck to reach out. No trace that Tommy had ever been in his life save for the indelible mark he’d left on Buck’s heart. So, Buck did something maybe a little impulsive and indulgent; he snagged one of Tommy’s flannels out of the bag and shoved it under his pillow.

He was absolutely not going to bury his face in it and cry himself to sleep later.

As he was engaging in some of the most pathetic breakup behaviour ever, his kitchen timer went off downstairs.

“Buck, do you need me to do something?” Tommy shouted up the stairs, voice carrying over the shrill timer beep.

“Yeah, could you just grab the baked brie out of the oven?” he asked. He snagged his favourite Tommy t-shirt out of the bag and stashed it with the stolen flannel too. If Tommy was allowed to unceremoniously dump Buck, then Buck was allowed to steal his clothes and not return them.

Buck gave a satisfied nod and started down the stairs to join Tommy. He was halfway down when he heard Tommy gag. Buck looked up from his feet in time to see Tommy turn literally green before unceremoniously dumping Buck’s baked brie on the counter, bee-lining for the sink and vomiting down the drain.

Buck raced down the stairs, rushing to Tommy’s side and rubbing smoothing circles on his back before he even realised what he was doing. “Are you okay?”

“Are you sure that cheese is okay?” Tommy asked catching his breath. “It reeks.”

Buck frowned as he got down a glass and filled it with tap water for Tommy to rinse out his mouth. “Uh yeah,” he said. “And brie’s not a stinky cheese.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Tommy sagged, leaning against Buck’s counter. “But my sense of smell’s been really weird the last few weeks.”

A sinking feeling filled Buck’s stomach. This all sounded very familiar.

They’d always been so good about using protection and between birth control and testosterone Tommy hadn’t had a period in well over a decade. But there’d been that little lapse before Tommy had found his new doctor and oh, God they’d definitely had unprotected sex that one time when they were both a little tipsy after getting back from babysitting Eddie. “You’re pregnant,” Buck blurted before his brain could send his tongue anything more tactful to say.

Tommy turned white as a sheet, eyes going wide. “I can’t be,” he said. “We were always so careful—” he trailed off and from the way his eyebrows shot up into his hairline Buck bet that Tommy had just connected the same dots he had. “Shit. You might be right.” His hand went to the back of his neck in a self-comforting gesture and Buck recognised all the signs of Tommy starting to spiral that he’d steamrolled over the night Tommy had ended things.

The last thing he wanted was for Tommy to leave right now. And that was probably the last thing Tommy needed right now. “Okay,” said Buck. He put his hands on Tommy’s upper arms and gently guided him to one of the bar stools. “Sit. Breathe. I need to make a phone call and then we’re going to talk. Okay?”

Tommy nodded, gulping down an unsteady breath.

Buck fished his phone out of his apron pocket and dialled Maddie. “Hey Mads, you and Chimney haven’t left yet, have you?”

“No, the sitter’s running late,” said Maddie. “Why?”

“I’m gonna need to take a rain check,” he said. “Tommy’s here.”

“Oh!” said Maddie. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“I don’t know yet,” said Buck.

“Well, let me know when you do,” said Maddie. “And take care of yourself.”

“Thanks, Mads,” Buck hung up and turned back to Tommy.

As soon as Buck’s eyes landed on his ex-boyfriend Tommy bolted up off the stool. “I should go,” he said. “You had plans and I should go.”

Buck took advantage of the fact that his legs were longer than Tommy’s and intercepted him before he reached the door.

“Buck move,” said Tommy. “I need to leave.”

“Nope,” said Buck. “I’m not going to let you walk away from me again. Not until I’ve said what I need to say, and we make a plan to move forward.”

“There is no moving forward,” said Tommy. “There is no “we” anymore. We broke up.”

“No, you broke up with me and left,” said Buck. “You didn’t let me say anything. You just decided on your own that there was no way I’d want you around in the future and then you left. Also, if you’re pregnant, I want to be there for you no matter what you decide to do, even if it’s just as a friend.” Because even though Buck so desperately wanted more, now wasn’t the time to say as much.

“It’s probably just a stomach bug,” said Tommy.

“If you really believed that you wouldn’t be running away,” said Buck.

Tommy flinched and Buck hated himself a little, but he needed to say everything that had been circling through his head in the time since Tommy had broken things off. “I don’t know what happened that made you think you could never be my last,” said Buck, speaking carefully so he wouldn’t say something he’d regret. “I know nothing I say right now is gonna convince you of the truth because now there’s maybe a baby involved and that complicates things, but I really wanted you to be my last Tommy. I still do. And this isn’t me asking you to change your mind about breaking up, but maybe it’s me asking you to trust that I actually know what I want. And what I want is to be there for you no matter what’s going on, in whatever way you’ll let me. Please let me.”

Tommy sighed and he looked at Buck so tenderly, despite the dark circles under his eyes that Buck had to dig his fingernails into his palms to keep himself from reaching out and cupping Tommy’s face in his hands to try to rub some of that fear and exhaustion away. “Okay,” said Tommy. He backed away from the door, returning to the bar stool at Buck’s kitchen island.

“I guess we should probably see if you really are pregnant,” said Buck, relief flooding through him.

“Probably,” said Tommy.

“I can run to the drug store and grab a few tests,” said Buck. “But you have to promise not to go anywhere.” He fixed Tommy with a meaningful look until Tommy met his gaze and nodded. Buck took his apron off and grabbed his wallet and keys.

“You promise?” Buck asked.

“Yeah, Evan, I promise,” Tommy snapped.

Buck grinned.

“What?” Tommy asked.

“You called me Evan,” said Buck and Tommy probably hadn’t meant anything by it. It was clearly a slip up, but it soothed something within Buck to hear Tommy call him that.

Tagging those who asked and those who seemed interested:

@silversky9 @unhingedangstaddict @ironspiderdad12 @beanarie @sporadicmakerwerewolf @azaharinflames @aisatsana441 @bugboybuck

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #tevan #tommy kinard #evan buck buckely #mpreg #trans tommy kinard #pregnant tommy kinard #8x07 rewrite

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gyaru-9rincezz · 7 months ago

Text

★ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᶜʰᵉᵐⁱˢᵗʳʸ -tetsurō kuroo 🐈‍⬛🧪🧸

Chemistry partner kuroo! X Fem! reader 🩷

warning/tags- female body parts mentioned, obsessive/Pervy Kuroo, obsessive/awkward reader, size difference, breeding, pantie stealing, (reader a little dumb but whatever 🙏)

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Tetsurō kuroo, the captain of Nekomas boy volleyball team. The 6’2 athlete that had all the girls swooning for him and had boys envy him was sitting right next to you in the library…

“So…should I go over to your house or do you want to come over to my house..?” I ask him while averting my eye contact with him, not wanting to make this situation more awkward then it already is since my face is tomato due to our closeness- if you can even call it that.

“Oh I don’t really care, whatever makes it more convenient for you” kuroo giggled as he noticed you were purposely avoiding eye contact with him.

‘God it’s that stupid giggle he has’ i think to myself- kuroo had this cute charming laugh that could make the coldest person blush. And I hated it! It wasn’t fair that I subconsciously blush and giggles to myself every time I hear his laughs… The truth is that I hated every person who also blushed at his giggle or obnoxiously laugh at his mediocre jokes, I hated everyone who was trying to grab his attention away from me.. “I guess this stupid crush never really went away”… I thought to myself before I was slapped back into reality

“Y/N..Y/N you okay..? Hello…?” Kuroo waved his hands in front of my face to grab my attention and to suck me out of my Lalaland “you alright there? Thought you were frozen or something” he let out another chuckle before tapping my hand. “Oh sorry.. yeah I’m fine! I’m just really sleepy that’s all” I said in a low tone, embarrassed that I zoned out and didn’t realize that he was talking to me

“Well we have an hour of school left, we should get a head start and begin the project.” Kuroo said as he reached over to get his backpack, pulling out the chemistry textbook and his laptop. I let out a simple ‘yeah’ and did the same as him

We looked through the project together and we decided to split the questions in half. Kuroo zoomed through his first couple questions with ease. It took you a moment to get the first couple answers down since chemistry wasn’t really my strong suit. At this point I got around 3-4 questions down as kuroo got about 10-15 done already. I looked over at his paper and It’s already half finished- “do you need some help?” Kuroo caught me looking at his paper for too long and kindly asked if I needed any help “-oh no I’m okay.. thanks though” ‘Fuck, why did I reject his help? I actually need it..’ I thought to myself, clearly I don’t think before I speak. I curse at my stupidity as I pretend to act like I know what I’m doing. “You sure? You’ve been stuck on that question for a while now. I can totally help you if you need it!” Kuroo smirked while he asked -almost like he was trying to taunt me.

‘let me help you god damn it, the more I look at her the more she turns me on..fuck she so cute’ kuroo thought to himself, he’s getting more and more agitated at your persistence but also trying to lower his heartbeat since it feels like it was about to jump out of his chest “oh uh, yeah this problem is just really hard..haha uhm you could help me I guess so we can finish faster.” I don’t know why I laughed so awkwardly and how I easily stumbled my words all in one sentence but i some how did it. ‘he probably thinks I’m weird now..shit’

‘fucking finally, the faster we get this done the faster I can leave and … take care of this problem’ he thought as he looked down at his hard bulge

“Great! Uh here let me see the problem and we can figure it out together” kuroo took my paper and started analyzing the difficult question. It only took him a couple seconds before he stared explain the question and started guiding me through it “Explain what changes and what changes stays the same when 1.00 L of a solution of NaCl is diluted to 1.80 L” kuroo read out the question to me. I look at him blankly “uhh..” is all I said while looking at him with a confused expression. “Mhm well the number of moles always stays the same in the dilution… and..” ‘man..I don’t know the the other answer.’ i looked down at the paper again trying to find the second answer of the problem “Correct, I believe the second answer would be that the concentration and the volume change in dilution” kuroo then goes on rambling about why that’s the answer. I don’t pay attention on what he says instead I look at the way his eyes light up when he’s talking about chemistry. If he wasn’t a Volleyball player he would be such a nerd!

*DING*

That was the school bell. Everybody in the library starts cleaning up their area and starts heading out the door, leaving me and kuroo alone together “I think we should do the rest of the project at your house, I mean if you don’t mind” kuroo said while packing his bag “y-yeah sure” I replied while grabbing my chem book. Kuroo and I then walked out the library together. I never really realized how tall kuroo is- well standing next to me at least. “hold on I need to use the restroom really quick. Wait for me k? It be really quick” kuroo looked back at me while heading to the men’s restroom “okay” I replied back to him as I watched him head to the washroom

Kuroo made sure the restroom was empty before he started walking to the very last stall. “Shit-” kuroo let’s out a breathy moan as he tugged his pants, gripping his harden cock through his pants. He pulled the toilet seat done and sat as he unzipped his pants; rubbing his cock through his boxers ‘gotta make this quick’ he thought to himself as he slid down his black slacks and his matching black boxers. He spat on his hand, body shaking as he grabs his shaft. “Mhm fuck~” kuroo moaned while rubbing himself “god Y/N the shit you do to me” he said under his breathe “need you so bad baby” kuroo whispered. Imaging that you were here with him in this stall. He imagined breeding your sweet cunt, he wanted to taste you, feel you, make you his. Prior to this- Kuroo had multiple girlfriends before in the past, they were fine.. for the most part but none of them compared to you.. although you guys never really talked Kuroo oftenly found himself stalking through your social media account. Making sure that you were still single, still ready for him.

It’s been a couple minutes since kuroo went to the restroom. I started getting worried about him, he’s been in there for longer than 8 minutes, I wanted to knock on the door but I didn’t know if I should. I sat there for a couple minutes before I stood up and knocked the door. “Hello? Kuroo are you okay?”

Kuroo almost reaches his high until he hears your worried voice ‘Damn it’ he swore in his head “Sorry, I’ll be right out just washing my hands” Kuroo got up and angrily pulled up his pants. pent up and frustrated kuroo grabbed his bag and started walking towards the door to greet you.

“Hey sorry to keep you waiting for so long, I wasn’t feeling too good” you look at kuroo red and sweaty face as he explains “it’s okay! I was just worried” ‘she so cute’ kuroo thinks for a minute then imaging about bending you over and taking you right then and there, he doesn’t sadly since he has morels.

Kuroo drives as you navigate to your house. The car ride was painfully awkward, kuroo was still hard from earlier, and I was just sitting there not saying anything, I take a couple glimpses at him and his hands on the steering wheel, ‘he has such nice hands’ they’re big, a little veiny, and tan due to him playing outdoors quite a bit. I imagine what else he can do with his hands other than volleyball.. before my thoughts can start to wonder we arrived at my house.

We walked in together, greeting my parents and my siblings. “Let’s go to my room, it’s less noisy” as I lead him up to my bedroom. Kuroo could almost melt as he steps into your room, it’s filled with figures, posters of your favorite bands, T.V shows and some plushies here and there, he noticed one plushie that looked familiar, it was a plushie you posted with on your story a couple months back. You place your bag down on your floor, kuroo did the same- the both of you started to work on the project in silent. About 20 minutes in you decided to break the silence. “I’m gonna go grab some drinks, do you want anything?” I stood up about to walk to the door “yeah do you have a Dr. pepper? It’s fine if you don’t” I nod and step out the room to grab the drinks.

The moment you left the room kuroo stood up to go stretch. While he was stretching he roamed around your room, looking through your posters, figure and plushies. Until he noticed an open drawers. He didn’t want to be nosy but curiosity kills the cat- he opened it more to see a folded pile of all your bras and panties. Kuroo can feel himself getting hard again by the thought of you modeling these for him. He grabs a black pair of one of your lacey panties and shoves it in his pocket for later. He continues looking through your drawer picking more and more of your panties for later. kuroo was too busy looking through he didn’t even notice or hear your footsteps

“Hey kuroo sorry for the long wait-“ I was cut off when I felt like my heart dropped. I caught the tetsurō kuroo rummaging through my pantie drawer. I didn’t know if I should’ve felt turned on or creeped out.

“O-oh shit, Y/N I-I’m so sorry it’s really not what it looks like” I can clearly hear the fear in his voice as he stutters his words “please believe me i-its its-“

“Kuroo.. your going through my pantie drawers like some sick pervert. It’s exactly what it looks like” I say ‘who knew my crush is just as a weirdo as I am…’ I giggled as I watch him spiral, giving me his best excuse and explanation

“Look I’m really sorry I- I just think your so cute and pretty I h-honestly don’t know what I was thinking” kuroo walks closer to you trying to explain the situation. You stay still watching his tall frame walk towards you ‘kuroo called me pretty?’ Is all I thought about. Not even realizing that Kuroo is now standing in front of me, looking down into my eyes. “Kuroo.. you think I’m pretty?” I asked him, it caught him off guard but he replied with a simple “yes” as he awkwardly smiles while also having this weird expression on his face. My face heats up while looking up at him. My mind goes fuzzy.

The next thing I knew is that I was thrown onto my bed while kuroo was climbing on top of me, unbuttoning my dress shirt. “So pretty” kuroo mumbled, while throwing my shirt across my room. He leans in to kiss me, slowly migrating the kisses down to my neck and then to my collar bone, I let out a moan feeling his kisses all over my chest makes my whole body weak “kuroo~” I groan out feeling his hands fondle my chest then feeling him unclip my bra. I eagerly lift up his shirt and take it off him “so eager baby” “says you” kuroo laughs as he pulls down my skirt. He kisses me before he starts rubbing my pussy through my panties “already so wet for me darlin?” I groan into the kiss, “how sweet” my limbs go weak to his touch “kuroo~please I need you-“ I let out a weak whimper “need what angel? Tell me what you need baby” he smirks and pushes my panties to the side, using his fingers to rub up and down my wet slit “mh-mhm kuroo~” “cmon baby your not telling me what you need” he teases- sliping one of his fingers inside you “s-shit i I need you inside m-me.. f-fuck” you yell at him, while trying to keep your moans down.

“good girl baby, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear” kuroo chuckles feeling you squeezing tightly around his finger. Kuroo then starts taking off your panties completely leaving you with only your white leg warmers on. He rubs your clit a little more before he leans down and starts kissing and licking your cunt. He puts your legs on his shoulder as he continues eating you like it’s his last dinner. “ma pretty girl taste so good” kuroo looked up at you. His hair messy and his mouth dripping with your slick. He continues taking laps, licking and sucking every inch of your sweet cunny. “mgonna cum kuroo..” you say as you grip onto your pillow for support “cum on my face sweet girl” his fingers deep inside you while he licks up you sweet nectar “ah~!” you gasp, squirting all over kuroos face “mhm taste so good princess” he moans into your pussy before he gets up, unzipping his slacks and discarding them somewhere in your room, he takes out his cock, framing it i front of you “been waiting for this. You ready to take me baby girl?” He smiles at your already fucked out face. My eyes widen seeing his size “k-kuroo i don’t think it’s gonna fit..” I whine “oh baby I’ll make it fit” he places himself at your entrance, slowly putting his tip in “awh fuck~” kuroo moans “ah- kuroo” I yelp, “relax baby, don’t want your parents finding out what we’re doing” kuroo says nonchalantly “g-go slow” kuroo kisses your temple as he slowly guiding you down his cock “taking me so good my slutty girl” my glossy eyes meet his, a single tear falls down my cheek- “so tight for me sweet girl, I know it hurts baby I know-“ you grip onto his shoulders as he starts thrusting into you. Your whimpers and moan fills your bedroom, you know your being too loud right now but you can’t help it- not until kuroo grabs your panties from earlier and shoves it in your mouth to keep you shut “I told you to be quiet baby, can’t you understand? Stupid girl” he degrades you while thrusting more roughly into you “msorry” you try to mumble out. Kuroo thrust get more faster and his words become more harsh -not like you mind) the room filled with wet sounds of clapping, you stare up at the ceiling with your panties still in your mouth, mind going blurry as kuroo lips latch onto your nipples, sucking and lightly biting them. His mouth travels from your chest to your face, giving you wet kisses on your cheek. “fuck- I’m gonna cum baby. Cum with me slut” he whispers in my ear. I don’t say anything back, too fucked out to even think. I just grip on his back tighter. His thrust move faster as he tightly grips onto your hips feeling his climax “I’m gonna cum inside you angel, gonna make sure your filled up with my kids when I’m done with you” I try whining in protest but gave up easily, nearing my climax. Kuroo grabs both my hands and put them above me, my whole body felt like jelly- my mind went blank when he finally came inside me. “God-fuck baby you did so good” he moaned, taking the pantie out of my mouth with my saliva string attached to it. He kisses my lips before he pulled out of me. A pool of cum oozing out of me like a waterfall. You two lay there and cuddle for a while, too sore to move and too tired to stand. “What time is it?” Kuroo asked “like 10:45” I replied looking at the clock “shit, I got practice tomorrow-fuck my parents are going to kill me” he panicked for a bit “you can stay over if you want.. I’ll just clean your clothes before tomorrow” you offered … “you know what yeah I’ll just stay over tonight” you both smile and lay there in silence. “So do you want to go on a date with me? I know this really good spot to get grilled mackerel” you smile and laugh “yeah, I’d love too” kuroo pulls you in closer and puts the blanket over you two.

🫖💗*･･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*゜ﾟ･* 💒🪽

A/N this is my first ever post/fic- I really hoped you guys enjoyed it!! I don’t usually write do stuff like this but I really wanted to try something new (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) it’s pretty fun (very time consuming but fun!)

#kuroo smut #haikyu x reader #haikyuu smut #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu

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clemblog · 8 months ago

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Caine’s Lesson - Part 3

•••

Pomni had slowly started to recognise her surroundings. If she had to guess, she’d say she was around twenty minutes away from the Candy Kingdom!

“H-Huh, guess I’m not so useless out here after all!” She hummed, quietly to herself with the ghost of a smile on her face. Everything was going pretty well, considering the circumstances in her opinion!

But then of course, because we love dramatic irony, it wasn’t.

Pomni heard a low growl. She spun around quickly to find what looked to be a mix between a gummy and chocolate wolf. Several of them, as a matter of fact! One thing she knew for sure, is that they didn’t look healthy… And they definitely weren’t pleased to see her walking around out in the open. It kind of reminded her of how Kaufmo had looked when he abstracted-

Just, uh, a lot stickier-

So, it looks like she’d be running now.

She wasn’t sure how many where behind her, but their was no way in [——] she was slowing down to have a look. Those things would bite and it would 100% hurt.

Just keep going Pomni.

Just keep going.

You’ve got this.

Just keep going.

If you don’t… it’s back to the circus.

Luckily, she could see the Candy Kingdom on the horizon. The gates were wide open, so she had a clear shot! Hopefully, someone would let her inside to hide from these weird… wolf type things. Hopefully.

The Candy Kingdom was deathly quiet. The crowds of adoring citizens were long gone. The hustle and bustle gone. Something was wrong. She skidded to a stop, turning to face the pack of wolves. The creatures followed suit, back to growling at her.

“I- Uh… Go! Go on! Get out of here!” Yelled Pomni, doing her best to sound intimidating.

A shadow loomed over her, causing the creatures to start to cower and back away with scared whimpers and whines.

Pomni really didn’t want to look behind her, but she had a hunch about who was behind her.

“MORE CANDY?!” Exclaimed the fudge monster, lunging for the pack of creatures.

Pomni squeaked at such, taking the opportunity to run and hide. The kingdom was in disrepair. The parts of candy mannequins lay around everywhere.

“Jax, you [——————]!” Hissed Pomni, diving into the rubble of a nearby cottage. It was better than nothing.

Unfortunately, she inadvertently clipped through the floor in the process. Luckily, there was no creepy asset room. Only a boarded up basement.

She groaned, rubbing her face as she sat up.

•

“Caine?! Caine? Where are you? Don’t you think Pomni should come back now? Caine?” Yelled Ragatha, pacing the main floor of the circus.

“Ughhh… Dollface, what part of their being no answer you not understand?” Snapped Jax, rolling his eyes. “You can’t make Caine bring her back. Besides, don’t you think the quiet is nice~?”

“No I don’t Jax! Because our friend is [———] god knows where! On her own! When she’s only been here for two days!”

The group went quiet.

“Wow, haven’t heard that kinda language from you in a long time Rags.” Grinned Jax.

“Oh, I’m gonna kill you-“ Seethed Ragatha.

“AARGH!” Exclaimed Kinger, managing to shut up the pair.

“Thank you Kinger.” Sighed Zooble.

“Why? What did I do?” He hummed, looking to them curiously.

She groaned, rubbing her forehead at this.

“Right- Ragatha, you’re not helping anyone by yelling at the AI who does as he pleases. Jax, stop being a [————] [——]. Ragatha is allowed to worry.” Spoke Zooble.

“Oh I’m hurt Zooby~ How could you say such a thing!”

“Don’t act like a [——] if you don’t want me to call you such.”

“Y-Yeah! Jax! Don’t be so cruel to Ragatha, she’s just being n-nice!!” Nodded Gangle.

Zooble gave her an approving smile at this, nudging her with what she assumed was her elbow in a playful manor. Gangle reciprocated said smile.

“That was pathetic.” Mused Jax.

“Oh, I’ll show you pathetic-“

Things were going wonderfully in the circus.

•

Pomni had only taken a few steps into the basement, glancing around at the boarded up room. There wasn’t much down here, but it was safe.

“A-Are you the hero our god sent to us?” Spoke a shy, familiar voice.

Pomni turned around and came face to with Princess Lou.

Her dress and crown were noticeably missing. She wore only her corset and her undergarment pants, alongside some boots Pomni assumed she had had under her dress. She looked exhausted.

“I-I don’t understand how you’d have found me otherwise- So… You’ve got to be the one.” She whispered, softly. “He sent us knights… a few weeks back, to deal with some bandits… But he must’ve misplaced his trust in them… They… let that thing into my kingdom… And. Everything. Is. Ruined.”

Pomni felt awful. So…

“Yes, I’m here to help. But your god didn’t send me. I came on my own accord. Because I want to help.”

“O-Oh! That’s wonderful! I’m so glad, you can call me Lou. …That thing outside is the fudge monster… He used to be one of my citizens… but I was naive. I let a monster into my kingdom walls. I turned a blind eye, I’d hoped he’d change, that one day I’d wake up and he’d stop eating people. But he never did. We managed to get him to leave the kingdom… And we would’ve been fine… Until those stupid knights…”

She paused, taking a deep breath.

“Sorry. Chocolate is just… everything awful in this world, everyone knows that. I don’t understand why one of those knights would give the key to the gates to him…”

‘Probably cause said knight is a [———] idiot.’ Thought Pomni, to herself. She looked back to Lou.

“That sounds a-awful. I’m so sorry… Can I ask… what makes chocolate so bad?”

“Y-You don’t know the story?” Gasped Lou. “Alright, listen here. It’s a long story but I’ll be quick.”

“A long time ago, in the beginning of everything our beloved god created Candy and it was perfect. However, with the creation of Candy, came Chocolate.

And it was everything Candy wasn’t. Hard. Bitter. Unforgiving. Violent.

My great great great grandfather, King Chews The Third spoke to god, on one lucky day. He asked for guidance, help. As a king he wanted to protect his kingdom, but as a Candy it was practically impossible to face the wrath of chocolate.

So they struck a deal, God would send us savours in our times of need and in return we would build our society surrounding him. We’d praise his name and devote everything to him. As centuries went by, with the help from our saviours who’d appear and disappear as time went on, we’d have a kingdom. A safe place. For all of the good Candy kind to thrive in.” She sighed, wistfully. “And then that brings us to now. Everything is ruined, because of some stupid, stupid knights. I should’ve never trusted them..”

Pomni hesitantly put a hand on Lou’s shoulder, standing on her tippy toes to do so.

“I’m so sorry Lou… I-I don’t blame you for trusting them! They’d been trustworthy all those centuries before! Why wouldn’t they be now? I-I’ll get you out of here.. Promise! T-Then we can start a new kingdom! One that’s self sufficient and isn’t reliant on any silly old god!”

Lou was quiet at this but nodded.

“He… has helped a lot… But.. his saviours tend to cause as many problems as they solve… So, I think I’d like to try something new! What’s your name, saviour?”

“Oh- Yeah! It’s Pomni… That’s the name the god gave me….”

“Huh. Well, Pomni is a lovely name, but if we’re pulling away from God… How about I give you a nickname?”

“O-Oh. I didn’t think about that- Only if you want too- I-I don’t mind going by Pomni-“

“How about Poms! Think about it: Poms, Saviour of Candy Kind!”

Pomni did her best not to snicker at this. Poms was a little silly but she liked it nonetheless.

“Sure, Poms it is Lou.”

Part 4

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itiswormtimebaby · 1 year ago

Text

Time

You're beginning to question why Bucky won't sleep with you, but you ask the wrong person

Pairing: Biker!Bucky and Bug (+Brother’s best friend Bucky, Plus sized fem reader) (Steve is reader’s adopted brother) CW: Friend’s calling each other “bitch”, references to sexual acts

“I don’t know if I should call you a stupid bitch, a dirty bitch, or a lucky bitch.” Cilla, the platonic love of your life, stares at you from the passenger seat of your car. “Straight out the gate and he’s already hitting it raw, I guess I’ll go with all three you stupid, dirty, lucky, beautiful” she tacks on the end to soften the blow, “Bitch.” Stupid was probably fair, dirty was a compliment, and lucky was factual so you let the comment ride without protest. There was one thing that was bothering you about her statement though, “I don’t think it’s fair to say he hi-”

“Bitch,” She cuts you off, “be so fucking for real.”

“He turned you into his own twinkie- cream filled.” The voice comes from the backseat where McKenna, the third member of your friendship trio is devouring a nerds filled grape slush. Cilla groans in disgust at the bad joke while you pull a face in the rearview mirror, refusing to break eye contact with the man until he cracks first, slowly lowering his plastic spoon back into the sticky purple treat; “I, uh, I really regret saying that.” “Good! That was fucking weird, and now we all have to live with it. Sit in your shame.” Despite your admonishing tone there’s no real upset behind you words as you carry on;

“But as I was SAYING, it was just the tip so I don’t- like it doesn’t feel like that counts. Don’t get me wrong, it was amazing, I just…” The silence sits heavy in your ears but you can’t find it in yourself to continue, suddenly embarrassed despite being in the presence of the two people you’ve trusted with damn near every dirty little secret you possess; why hadn’t it progressed past that?

“Fuck it! Who wants to lose their virginity on a Monday, anyway?” McKenna’s outburst breaks the silence and blessedly removes the spotlight from you, “Yeah,” you acquiescent with a half-hearted chuckle, “you’re probably right.” The conversation moves on quickly enough, though the thought is persistent in your mind- why hadn’t it progressed past that?

Hours later, McKenna returned home to his husband, sun dropped beyond the horizon, you pull to a stop outside of Cilla’s house, the dark-haired woman making no move to exit the vehicle; “How are you actually feeling about it?” There’s clearly only one situation she could be referencing but in truth you’re not sure how to answer. She was the first call you’d made after coming down from your chocolate-brownie-hell-high, after Bucky finally showed back up in the aftermath, after dates one through four, and especially after five, she’d heard details even McKenna hadn’t, every salacious little tidbit. But you hesitate now, a bond forged in college deadlines, all nighters, stress induced coffee comas, movie marathons and evening walks had blossomed into a beautiful friendship with two main tenets; you burn I burn, and no bullshit. You knew she would listen and take it all in without judgment, but part of you hesitated, worried that her honest take, because she would be incredibly honest, wasn’t something you were ready to hear.

“I’m confused,” You finally settle on. She doesn’t offer acknowledgement besides a small hum, no pushing, no rushing. “Everything has felt so good.” At that Cilla does let out a little snort, raising her eyebrows suggestively, though makes no other move to interrupt; “I wasn’t actually talking about that, though he does make me feel amazing. I just mean…Bucky’s been in my life since I was pre-pubescent, he may actually be what jump started puberty for me,” Cilla’s eyes roll at your joke as you pause again to gather your thoughts. “He was this larger-than-life presence, cocksure, the muscle to Steve’s mouth and I just- oh my god I was so in love with him. I’m sure there’s still notebooks floating around where I waxed poetic about his eyes, wrote Mrs. James Buchanan Barnes over and over again in the margins…”

You peter off before taking a steadying breath, suddenly thirteen again and trailing along behind Steve and Bucky, the latter of which was the epicenter of every girlish daydream you had. “He had this girlfriend when we were in High School, Dot? I was so fucking jealous of her, she had everything I wanted because she had him. I know Bucky cared about me, in some way, but it wasn’t the same as he cared about her and it broke my heart.” You can still picture her; pretty red curls, shy smile, hand wrapped in Bucky’s anytime he was within arms reach.

“Once he enlisted, once there was some space between us, I realized there was a lot of naivety I needed to tear through-” You hesitate, fearing the explanation will be muddy but push on anyway, “like, the love I felt was real- but I also built it up a lot in my head? In a way I think it was probably unfair to him, projections from a kid who was newly navigating the difference between romantic and platonic love, but everything just felt so big and all encompassing.”

“He was your first love.”

“He was,” You nod in agreement, picturing Bucky at fifteen, knuckles bloody, Steve behind him with a bruised eye and busted lip, the body of your latest would-be-bully crumpled on the floor, “but that’s not- that’s not how he felt about me.The romantic love, or infatuation, or whatever- it was one sided, very obviously so. I used to wish it was different, dream of a day where he’d drop Dot’s hand and reach for mine but then I realized-” You squeeze your eyes shut, thankful for Cilla allowing you to set the pace of the conversation as you ruminate over the relationship, “I realized after he’d left how shitty that was, just because he wasn’t in love with me didn’t mean he didn’t care, what we did have wasn’t a consolation prize.”

Your friend rests her hand gently on your forearm, nodding her understanding; “Life went on, he and Steve were deployed, I was in school, they came home, they joined the club, he dated other girls, I dated…But I never really got over that feeling of first love, it just- deepened?” You nodded your head at that, happy enough with the explanation, “It sprouted new roots, more substantial ones, I fell in love with him all over again, a different version of him in a way.”

You were getting to the part you didn’t want to say, the part that worried you most, “Like I said what we had wasn’t a consolation prize, Bucky’s always been one of the best people in my life, even when I probably annoyed the hell out of him. I’d made peace with knowing that how we felt about each other didn’t line up and then, well…”

“Then he showed up on your doorstep with flowers begging for a date?”

“He showed up with flowers after I accosted him with my feelings.”

“Don’t forget the FINALLY.” She prods you pointedly at that, having been driven half mad over your analytical obsession with the word, when I FINALLY fuck you, “he clearly had thought about it, and he even said that’s not all he wanted, don’t go where I think you’re about to go.”

“Where am I about to go?” You ask her.

“Questioning his intentions, whether he really likes you, wants to be with you…HE asked YOU out, that means something. Just because y'all aren’t having sex doesn’t take away from everything else.”

Everything else. Cilla was right of course, it’s not like Bucky was running around acting disinterested; he brought you flowers, took you on dates, kept you fed, ran errands with you just for some extra time together, gave you mind blowing orgasms, made you laugh. But then why…

“But then why won’t he sleep with me? He clearly cares about me, thinks about me, but why not- his body count is high, why not one more?” You deliver the last line like a joke, but no part of it feels funny. “I know he cares about me, truly I do. But I guess I just worry- like he’s cared about me since we were kids, so maybe he doesn’t want to sleep with me because he’s figuring out that romance isn’t what he really wants between us and that’d be harder to walk back having-”

“Don’t,” Cilla cuts you off, “do that.” You look at her a bit helplessly as she pushes on, “Has he actually given you any indication he doesn’t want to date you? Aside from not sticking it in?”

It was crude but she had a point, and you knew Bucky, knew he wasn’t one to string people along.

“No.”

“Exactly, it’s just dick, don’t let it ruin something special.”

“I just- I’m all in, so why is he holding back?”

“It’s still a new relationship-”

“I’ve known him forever-”

“But not like this. This is new. He may not be exactly where you’re at but clearly he has feelings for you. My advice would be to hop out of your head and just enjoy things as they progress.”

You nod once in acknowledgement, still not quite ready to move on from the topic; “Should I just ask him why?”

Cilla mulls it over for a minute, “I… wouldn’t, not yet. Give it some time.”

Time, right.

But you couldn't help the worry that persisted, what would Bucky be figuring out in that time?

All things Bucky and Bug found here: to be loved Main masterlist: here

#bucky and bug #biker!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #plus sized reader

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ofthecaravel · 5 months ago

Text

Brandy

Chapter Eight

Summary: Years after Sam gets his sailor, big plans are hatched and tensions arise as Daniel attempts to keep a secret.

Tags: Lotsa crying (both good and bad), anxiety, insecurity, illusions to saucy shit, overall a very very good happy time though I swear

Words: 9.2k

A/N: SURPRISE SHAWTYS you know I couldn't leave this one alone for too long. Here's a little follow up. Enjoy!

~~~

“This is honestly going better than I expected.”

Jake gave a muffled little laugh from behind the wide, felt brim of his hat, which he was holding to cover his face as he sat on the very edge of the couch. Josh, on the other hand, made no acknowledgement of the teasing, simply continuing to keep his face buried in his hands while his chest sputtered with dramatic little sobs. Jake reached blindly to the side and his hand found clumsy purchase on Josh’s back, giving him a sympathetic pat as Clarice the chicken pecked gently at Josh’s curls.

Daniel stood awkwardly in front of them, wringing his hands nervously as he had been doing from nearly the moment he’d woken up that morning. He hadn’t even said very much to them, but if he was being honest, he’d definitely expected far more drama from the both of them combined after he’d told them his thoughts. Daniel had gotten used to the high energy hysterics that they seemed to draw from each other, which had seemed so unusual at first considering that the cool, swashbuckling Jake that he had gotten to know was jovial yet never ridiculous. But Josh so easily riled him up and Daniel found their mania a comfort when he spent time at the Kiszka residence, which was nearly every day despite it being a 15 minute walk from his inn.

He’d made that walk earlier in much less time, channeling his anxiety into speed and then shuddering babbles as he’d burst through the door and instructed them to sit down and listen. What he’d said was very simple and straightforward and went something along the lines of Hello, so, basically, you’re aware I’ve spent the last 5ish years dating/falling in love with/wrangling your brother, Sam, I guess I don’t need to say his name because we all know him, obviously, anyways, but I was sort of thinking that since he lives with me at the inn now that the next step would be for me to, uh, well, ask him to…marry me. Officially. But I wanted to ask you guys first if I, uh, have your blessing. Considering you’re his family and I’d actually really like it if you ended up being mine too. Yes. Okay. That was what I wanted to say.

They had, of course, immediately burst into synchronous spells of tears, which Daniel took as a positive answer while they fumbled to hide their rosy, contorted faces.

“Christ,” Jake finally said, his voice thick with emotion but clearly desperate to answer with levity. “Daniel, you don’t even need to ask. But it means so much that you did.”

“So much,” Josh repeated, barely coherent through his tears. He straightened from a dramatic slouch to a dramatic backwards lean, turning his face to the ceiling and attempting to fan his tears away with his hands.

“You’re already family,” Jake insisted, reaching out to Daniel and taking his hand to pull him closer. “And- wow, your hand is sweaty, ew -you’ve been family since I first met you on that shabby old ship off the coast of God knows where. I loved you then, I love you now, and I think Sam is going to actually lose his mind when you ask.”

“If you two are reacting like this at the mere prospect, I feel like I should be expecting him to have a full blown meltdown,” Daniel laughed, flushing at the concept as Jake gripped his hand passionately and kept borderline uncomfortable eye contact with Daniel.

Something that Daniel loved so dearly about Jake was his fierce sincerity, and he felt it hard in that moment as they grinned at each other. Without Jake’s friendship, Daniel never would have gained a certain kind of confidence that had made him reliable on the ship and assured within himself. When Daniel had first met Jake and the rest of their crew, he had been a seasick, homesick shrinking violet that had to be coerced into talking. And Jake, who was being slowly driven nuts without the perpetual chatter of his brothers, was more than happy to be the one to poke and prod Daniel until his guard was down. It was after Jake had worn Daniel down and nurtured his shy laughter into raucous babbling that Jake had known he had to bring him home to Sam…but that’s a fact that Jake would save for the wedding. That reminiscence was at the forefront of Jake’s mind as they held to each other.

“Sam is going to fucking explode,” Josh blurted tearfully, his weeping finally giving way to laughter that punched out of his chest and infected Jake and Daniel too. Jake released his grip on Daniel and slumped backwards against Josh, who received him with an “oof” and set off a chain reaction of bantering back and forth between the two. Daniel listened fondly, wringing his hands with increasing fervor as he remembered that his speech wasn’t quite finished. Jake noticed Daniel’s notorious nervous tic and calmed again, sitting up straight and arching an eyebrow.

“What?” Jake asked. “What now?”

“I, well, I kinda wasn’t done,” Daniel explained meekly. “There was something else I wanted to ask about.”

“Do you need a ring guy? ‘Cause I know a guy,” Josh piped up brightly, quickly mirroring Jake’s posture and grinning.

“He does not know a guy, he knows a guy who knows a guy,” Jake clarified, rolling his eyes and pinching Josh’s side. “Or at least that’s what he says.”

“Why would he lie?” Josh scoffed, smacking Jake’s hand away and shoving at his cheek. “You like him.”

“Yeah, well, you like like him, huh?”

“Shut up!”

“Guys!” Daniel interjected, clapping his hands. “Hi!”

“Hi, sorry, yes,” Jake cleared his throat, waving his hands as if to clear away a spiderweb. “You were asking something.”

“I was, yes, okay, so,” Daniel started, wiping his sweaty palms on his shorts and gearing himself up. “So. I was thinking. That. Maybe. Jake, would you be interested in being my best-”

“Yes!” Jake yelled, flying to his feet and hurling his full body weight at Daniel, who caught him with a wheezing laugh. Josh stayed on the couch with an anticipatory look, holding his hands out like he was waiting to receive a first class package.

“AND?” Josh blurted, clearly anxious about the assignment Daniel was going to entrust him with.

“Josh, would you want to marry us?” Daniel asked gently, dividing his attention between patting Jake on the back and scanning Josh’s face. Josh’s eyes, already red and heavy from tears, began to glitter again and his lip quivered. There was a flicker of confusion as well, and Daniel jumped to tend to it.

“It’s just, I can’t think of anyone else that I’d want to do that,” Daniel further explained. “For us, I mean. I can’t say I’ve ever pictured myself getting married at a church and I know you guys have never been religious, so…I choose you.”

“I’m not a priest, honey,” Josh whispered, voice thick with awed emotion. “It wouldn’t, you know, count.”

“Well, I think any rites you’d do would hold a lot more weight than any performed by someone actually ordained,” Daniel smiled, hot in the face like he always was whenever he explained his thought process. It suddenly sounded very silly now that he’d said it out loud and he began to think of a backup plan, but then Josh was leaping to his feet and tackling Daniel in a hug of his own and he realized that probably wouldn’t be necessary.

“Of course,” Josh accepted, struggling to wrap his arms properly around both Daniel and Jake, who was still firmly cemented to Daniel’s chest. “Of course. God, it’d be an honor. I promise not to fuck it up.”

“Same here,” Jake agreed, giving Daniel another squeeze. “I’m gonna write the best speech you’ve ever heard.”

“I don’t doubt that for a minute,” Daniel laughed, a warm light burning in his chest and making his face ache with a smile. “Just try and keep it under 10 minutes.”

Jake paused.

“I am not going to make that promise.”

They all gave a laugh in their varying harmonies and stayed in their embrace, Daniel allowing the love from his friends to pass through him. With this rare silence, Daniel closed his eyes and basked in his gratitude. Just outside he could hear a squall of seagulls flying overhead, somewhere beyond it the pluck of a fiddle from the instrument repair shop that Jake had impulsively bought a guitar from a few years prior and hadn’t put down since. In the house, the windows were open and let a cool breeze wash over him and these men he felt beyond grateful to call his closest friends and soon his brothers.

Getting lost in the moment, Daniel indulged in his fantasy of this perfect wedding day he was working towards and the parts they would play: Jake, wine drunk and flushed, flailing about theatrically as he delivered a speech that was equal parts lecture about the sanctity of true love and embarrassing stories about the grooms. Josh undoubtedly fighting a warble in his voice through his entire faux sermon, one that he painstakingly crafted for months on end and will certainly complain about not being any good despite it being beyond beautiful.

And Sam. God, Daniel couldn’t even begin to imagine how he’d look, what he’d say. The prospect of it had the creeping ache of tears pressing on Daniel’s throat and at the back of his eyes. All he could manage was fleeting imaginings of Sam’s hand in his as they stepped into their first dance, or the sensation of Sam smiling into a kiss at the altar while their eardrums are blown to bits by the ferocity of the cheers from the audience. It’d all be perfect. A swan song from all the hardship they’d faced before they’d even been together officially and the gentlest, softest beginning of the rest of their lives. Calm. Peaceful. Quiet, even.

“‘Sup, fuckers!”

With a startling bang, the door was thrown open and Sam’s peppy voice filled the previously serene room. In the years they’d been together, Daniel had watched Sam come alive in a way he couldn’t feasibly describe. It could be felt in the way he dragged a certain electricity with him from room to room, something practically visible with every movement. Daniel could see it when he bounced in the house then, a sort of colorful blur at the borders of Sam that kept Daniel transfixed to him wherever he went. His face was already warm with a smile that reached his eyes and appled his cheeks, and Daniel for a moment forgot just what kind of strange position he was about to be caught in as he let the sight of Sam settle over him like sunlight. However, he was cold a second later when Sam finally looked at the strange amalgamation his brothers and Daniel had become and his bright expression was soured in an instant.

“What the hell are you doing?” Sam asked in an incredulous tone, his eyebrow raising sassily when Jake and Josh peeled themselves off of Daniel a little too fast to not be suspicious.

“We…” Daniel began, making brief panicked eye contact with Jake as he struggled to come up with a story. “Josh…had a bit of bad news and we were all hugging to make him feel a little better.”

“I’d say it worked,” Jake added on, nodding confidently and gripping Josh’s shoulder. “He’s pulling through.”

“I’m pulling through,” Josh finished with a bit of an amused waver to his voice that Jake dispelled with a dig of his nails into Josh’s skin. “From my bad news, I mean. Everything is fine, really, don’t worry about me.”

“It was just some moral support,” Daniel continued, trying to give Sam a calm smile that ultimately he knew he wouldn’t buy.

“What’s wrong?” Sam questioned with his brows still furrowed critically.

Daniel and the twins all exchanged a split second nervous look, with Josh begging for help with a slight squint of his eyes and Daniel and Jake returning it with apologetic silence.

“It’s just…Clarice,” Josh began unsteadily, feigning a pained look with uncanny quickness. “She’s not been doing so hot and I’m worried.”

From across the room, Clarice was hopping merrily from the top of the couch to the cushions over and over, clearly swept up in the excitement of playing and clearly in good health. Sam regarded her for a long moment and looked back to Josh with unrestrained scrutiny, squinting his eyes at Josh’s act of agony.

“You’ve been crying,” Sam noted coolly. “What about?”

“Clarice! I just said Clarice,” Josh wailed, smacking his hand against his forehead and looking at Clarice like it was the last time he ever could. “My Clarice…”

“What fucking ever,” Sam grumbled, rolling his eyes and landing his gaze on Daniel. “Do we have everything we need for dinner tonight?”

“I think so,” Daniel answered happily, hoping he was masking his body’s involuntary sigh of relief at Sam dropping the topic so quickly. “Was there anything special?”

“I think we just needed, like, yogurt or honey for the dessert.”

“I have honey!” Josh offered.

“Don’t get him fucking started on the fucking honey,” Jake lamented as Josh dropped his pitiful performance and scurried off to the kitchen to dig in a cabinet. “I can’t hear one more story about how ‘the cute honey guy’ looked at you while you weren’t looking but were actually looking or whatever.”

“He, like, super definitely did, though.”

“It might not even need honey, I was just saying that it might need honey,” Sam interjected.

As they all watched Josh pull jar after jar of honey out of a low cabinet like a clown pulling silks from his sleeve, Sam finally migrated over to where Daniel stood. When Jake sighed and went to Josh’s side to bicker about where they placed the recipe for the fancy Friday dinner they’d planned, Sam reached out and clung to Daniel’s arm with his cheek burrowed into his bicep. This was something Sam had done from the very start and it still made Daniel’s stomach flip.

“Hi,” Daniel whispered to the top of Sam’s head.

“Hi,” Sam whispered back, looking up at Daniel through his lashes. “Everything all good at the inn tonight?”

“Yes, indeed,” Daniel affirmed, kissing Sam’s forehead. “Apparently those rowdy sailors from Greenland left this afternoon, so they won’t be any more trouble.”

“Aw, all of them? Even the one with the two different colored eyes?”

“All of them, as far as I know.”

“Man. He was kind of cool.”

“You’re just trying to make me jealous.”

“Is it working?”

Daniel let out a laugh through his nose and kissed Sam’s forehead again before he dug his fingers into his side to make him yelp and wiggle away.

“Not at all,” Daniel replied with a chuckle.

“I’m gonna kill you,” Sam answered, covering his side with his hand and smacking blindly at Daniel with the other. A smile split his face again and Daniel drank it in.

“And I’m gonna marry you,” is what he replied in his head, but out loud, Daniel only scoffed. He went after Sam for another jab and gave chase when Sam squealed and ran in the opposite direction, eventually losing the thought as he fell into the hectic atmosphere of the Kiszka household on a Friday evening.

Lucky for Daniel, he never had to take Josh up on his “ring guy” offer. He already had one.

Truth be told, Daniel had had a ring on hand for an embarrassingly long amount of time. Since that agonizing year where he’d been at sea and oceans apart from Sam, in fact. A few days after getting Jake and Josh’s blessing, Daniel bowed to the compulsion to check the hiding spot the ring had been nestled in since the day he came back and hastily moved into the inn. It was a little risky considering Sam was in the shower and not far away like Daniel usually preferred him to be when he checked in on the ring, but Daniel just had to look at it. The anticipation of the actual proposal was killing him and he could only be soothed by the ritual of pulling the little velvet box free from the handkerchief it was wrapped in, which was in turn hidden in the inside pocket of a coat hung in the very back of his closet. Listening closely to the rush of water hitting the tile behind the bathroom door, Daniel popped open the lid and smiled at the ring. It wasn’t anything flashy, but it was damn near perfect in Daniel’s eyes: a simple rounded diamond surrounded by a halo of little pearls, all set on a silver band. Looking at it, he remembered wandering into a jewelers when they’d docked in Italy with the ring in tow, pulling it out and stumbling through a request in broken Italian to resize it. The jeweler had spoken a few words of English and they managed to get through the transaction without much issue, and Daniel remembered how he’d told Daniel that whoever was going to be on the receiving end of the ring was a very lucky person. The irony was not lost on Daniel when the jeweler informed him that the ring was, if Daniel’s feeble understanding of Italian wasn’t mistaken, made in “the siren style”. Daniel could’ve told him about how the lucky person was a siren themselves, but he just wished him well and pocketed the ring again.

“Done!” Sam announced from the bathroom, sending a shock of panic through Daniel as he fumbled stuffing the ring back into its box and springing into action to shove it back in the closet.

“I’ve missed you!” Daniel responded weakly, his hands shaking slightly as he struggled to wrap the handkerchief around the box. His body was half hidden in the closet when Sam strolled out of the bathroom, towel around his waist and a comb being dragged through his wet hair. He’d cut it recently so that it reached just past his shoulders, and he often wore it in a ponytail to combat the stiff summer heat that had settled over the town in the past month. When Daniel had successfully jammed the coat and its secret treasure back where it belonged, he turned around and was happy to see Sam’s hair loose and already beginning to curl slightly from the humidity.

“Lose something?” Sam asked innocently, looking around Daniel into the darkness of the closet.

“Nope, just putting a shirt away,” Daniel lied, closing the closet behind him with a smidge too much enthusiasm. “How was your shower?”

“Rejuvenating,” Sam sang with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Energizing, even.”

“Yeah?” Daniel countered, casually leaning back against the door and crossing his tattooed arms over his chest.

“Yeah,” Sam flirted, looking Daniel up and down where he relaxed in his comfortable outfit of shorts and a thin tank top. “Would you be interested in taking advantage of this burst of energy before I go clock in?”

In the past few years, after Josh had mercifully yet begrudgingly hired some non-familial help around the Caravel, Sam had been splitting his time between the bar and working the front desk of the inn. Seeing as it was only a few steps from their front door, Sam and Daniel were in a continuing game of how close they could cut it before Sam had to run to the desk as the clock hit the hour on the head. Despite their ever growing catalog of games and running jokes they shared, this one was an undoubted favorite.

“I’d be extremely interested,” Daniel purred, straightening and closing the distance between them. “I think I can get you there at 5:58 on the dot this time. Plenty of time to get to the desk and lovingly tend to our guests.”

“You’re on,” Sam responded, already breathless as he wrapped his arms around Daniel’s neck. “Loser buys dinner.”

“I always buy dinner no matter what.”

“Loser.”

Daniel laughed and kissed Sam, one arm circling Sam’s waist to keep him close and the other reaching down to loosen the towel. After all was said and done, Sam would cheerfully wobble down to the lobby and Daniel would slip out to talk with Josh about a restock of Kiszka Liquor in the gift shop that had gone up in the past year.

But not really. Daniel had bigger plans than that.

A week or two passed. Sam stood in the doorway in the early evening, watching Daniel lace up his boots with an odd look in his eye. Sam’s whole world pretty much revolved around Daniel, so he was quick to pick up on the little things. And he had never been more convinced that something was wrong.

There wasn’t anything glaringly obvious, but Sam had spent his days attuning himself to Daniel and he’d been picking up more and more frequencies that didn’t quite make sense to him. His gaze lingering on Sam a beat longer than usual, the new and unusual way he twisted his ring finger while lost in thought, the thousand yard stare at couples passing them by on the street. He hugged Sam a little tighter, like he was bracing them for something. It was driving Sam absolutely crazy, and the worst part was that Daniel had to know that.

“Remind me where you’re going?” Sam asked nervously.

“Putting up lights for Josh,” Daniel answered patiently, eyes trained on the movement of his hands as he finished up a double knot. “I won’t be long at all, it’s just, well. You know he can’t reach.”

“Yeah,” Sam answered with an absent little laugh. His thumb gravitated to his mouth and he began to anxiously gnaw on the thick skin next to his nail while watching Daniel get to his feet and stretch. For a moment, Sam’s anxiety fluttered away as he became consumed with the sight of Daniel’s back muscles flexing and his long ponytail swaying. Daniel looked over his shoulder at Sam in the doorway and smiled softly. A few short curls strayed from his bangs and stuck to his temples, and Sam fought the urge to push them away just to feel the flush of Daniel’s soft freckled skin under his fingertips. There was some kind of…distance that Daniel seemed to have been implementing lately, and he didn’t want to disrespect that. But he did want to understand it.

“Hey,” Sam started, briefly removing his thumb from his teeth. “Are you okay?”

“What?” Daniel replied, looking confused but not confused enough for Sam to register it as genuine. “Yeah, I’m great. Are you okay?”

“I don’t know. Are we okay?”

Daniel blinked in real disbelief and Sam’s fears were assuaged slightly in the way that Daniel was at his side in an instant.

“Baby,” Daniel cooed, cupping Sam’s cheek in his hand. “We’re amazing. I mean, I think we are. Why?”

“You’re being weird,” Sam accused, his words mumbled as he looked at the floor. “You’ve been weird for, like, a full week now.”

Shit.

“I’m not weird!” Daniel sputtered.

“You’re very weird.”

“Well, I can’t help being weird. You’ve known I was weird from the start,” Daniel laughed.

His flippance sent a flash of irritation through Sam. Sam tore his gaze from the tips of Daniel’s boots and glared as best he could right into Daniel’s eyes.

“Stop it, stop deflecting,” Sam demanded, smacking Daniel’s hand away. “What’s wrong? And don’t say there’s nothing wrong because there is. I know you well enough. You can’t lie to me anymore. You promised.”

“I wouldn’t want to lie to you,” Daniel answered, his tone faltering slightly as his eyes skipped anxiously around Sam’s face and into the corridor behind him.

Come on, Sam couldn’t even give him two hours? Did they have to do this now?

“Daniel,” Sam said firmly, holding Daniel’s face between his hands and staring him down. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Sam, I am not lying to you when I say nothing is wrong,” Daniel replied earnestly. “I’m fine, we are fine, I swear. Okay?”

Sam didn’t reply. He had never ever known Daniel to be cruel, but he knew something was off and Daniel blatantly lying about it made it sting all the more. As Sam tracked Daniel’s expression, every twitch of his lip and guilty squint of his eyes, he spiraled deeper and deeper into all of the worst possibilities.

He’s met someone, Sam’s paranoia whispered to him, smooth and assured. He’s going stir crazy. He’s finally sick and tired of you and your high maintenance.

In the blink of an eye, Sam’s fire dimmed and he dropped his hands from Daniel, taking a step back and opening up the hallway to Daniel. Whatever was going on with him, Sam wasn’t going to stop him.

“Just go,” Sam muttered, nodding towards the front door with a placid look. “You know how impatient Josh gets.”

Daniel, terrified by Sam’s sudden and completely uncharacteristic shift in demeanor, felt sick to his stomach. He wanted nothing more than to stay with Sam until Sam was entirely reassured that everything was fine, but there was so much Daniel couldn’t say. There was a plan in place for the rest of the evening and he needed to set it into motion, which didn’t allow any time for any of that. Every beat of Daniel’s heart felt like a palm pressed to a barbed wire fence. It was all going to turn around in such a short amount of time, but up until that point, Daniel was wracked with guilt. There was nothing on Earth that disarmed him more than the sight of Sam’s sad puppy dog eyes boring right through to his soul, and he actually had to look away for a moment to regain his composure.

“I’ll see you so soon, Sammy,” Daniel said weakly. And then you’ll understand just how secure we are.

“Sure,” Sam replied blankly, crossing his arms and clenching his jaw to keep the tears at bay until after Daniel had gone.

“And I don’t need you at the desk for another half hour.”

“I know.”

“I know you know, I just…”

“Go,” Sam whispered, crumpling in on himself a little more as he stared at the floor.

Daniel hesitated, fighting every instinct to pull Sam into his arms and confess everything right then and there.

Tonight is all for you, he’d say into Sam’s hair. If you just wait a little longer you’ll see that I don’t want to go anywhere if you’re not going to be there too.

“Kiss for luck?” Daniel blurted.

He fully expected Sam to spit in his face at that point, but Sam immediately took hold of his collar and pulled him down into a deep kiss that had them both exhaling heavily through their noses at the shock of it. And when Sam finally released Daniel and steered him by the shoulder into the hall, there was a thought at the back of Sam’s mind that put a lump in his throat.

I hope that wasn’t the last time.

Sam spent the half hour before his shift at the front desk perched on Daniel’s side of the bed, white knuckling the edge and staring a hole through the carpet. One hand he kept free to press the silver heart of his most beloved locket into his palm over and over again, keeping time to his own erratic heartbeat.

Deep down he couldn’t believe that Daniel would hide anything from him. Hell, Daniel kept Sam up to date on anything from room renovations at the inn to the state of his matching sock pairs and which ones seemed to have “run away”. But if it wasn’t bad news, why would Daniel hide it?

Sam laid down and pressed his cheek into Daniel’s pillow, inhaling his intoxicatingly calming scent of fresh smelling shampoo, spiced cologne and his simple natural warmth that clung to all his clothes. In the time that Daniel had been away, Sam had associated that smell with adrenaline and butterflies, but now it just made him sleepy. It was the first thing he breathed in in the morning while curled into Daniel’s chest and the last thing he inhaled when he was evening out his breathing to drift off in Daniel’s tight embrace. There was a stab of icy panic when Sam tried to picture falling asleep without it and he rolled onto his back to stave the chill off, staring up at the ceiling and fiddling with his necklace some more to regulate.

Eventually, Sam found the strength to rise up from his pity party and make his way down to the lobby, his feet dragging and his head low. All he could think about was Daniel not being close to him, which made him think about the year he’d spent thousands of miles and several time zones away from him, the isolation, the abandonment…

However, when Sam turned the corner from the stairs towards the front desk, he was startled from his storm cloud at the sight of…Jake. Behind the desk. Flipping through a magazine, looking bored, barely acknowledging Sam’s presence until Sam was right in front of him and rapped his knuckles against the wood. Jake glanced up at him and smiled briefly before looking back at the article he was reading, his finger tracing the outline of a microphone stand while Sam scowled.

“The fuck?” Sam asked pointedly.

“Language, por favor,” Jake scolded in an uninterested sort of sing-song, only raising his eyebrows in response instead of giving Sam any kind of eye contact.

“You’re in my seat,” Sam accused as he came around behind the desk. “And at the wrong job, actually. Scooch.”

“Oh, right, about that,” Jake began, turning in the chair to properly face Sam. “I’m covering your shift tonight.”

Sam blinked in surprise, furrowing his brow in confusion while Jake maintained a very neutral expression as they stared each other down.

“What?”

“Yeah. Daniel said he needs you down at the bar so I’m gonna shack up here for the night. You should probably get down there.”

Save for a couple years of piracy, Sam and Jake had always been pretty prolific at reading each other. However, they could also tell when the other one was trying to get a glimpse into their head, and Sam tried to play it as cool as possible as he studied Jake’s body language. Jake must have anticipated this because he simply sat there like a statue, staring up at Sam like this was an everyday occurrence and Sam was the odd man out for making a face at him.

“Needs me at the bar? He literally just told me that he was going to hang up lights with Josh,” Sam stammered. “‘Cause the other ones burnt out.”

“Yeah, I know they burned out, I work there, dumbass,” Jake snorted, side eyeing Sam as he turned back around to face the empty lobby. “Josh isn’t even at Caravel tonight. He’s got a hot date with that beekeeper, actually, and I mean thank fuck, I thought he’d ne-”

“Why would Daniel tell me he was putting up lights if he’s no-”

“Sam, oh my god, just get the hell out of here and go answer your own questions!” Jake sighed, throwing his hands up dramatically to gesture to the doors. From the strain of his eyes, Sam could see how desperate Jake was to get Sam out.

Sam, riled up from conflicting accounts and the cold ache of being left out of something, let out a frustrated howl and stalked off towards the front. But before he could burst out into the humid night, Jake called his name and he spun around.

“Sam,” Jake repeated. “Don’t be mad at Daniel, ‘kay? He doesn’t need it.”

“What do you know what he needs, huh?” Sam snapped. Even though Jake had introduced them and known Daniel for long before Sam ever knew he existed, Sam felt a fierce protectiveness over him. With the state he was already in, jealousy came easily.

Jake just gave an absent little shrug and smiled, getting swept back up in his magazine and leaving Sam to fume for a second longer before barging through the doors and out into the night to track Daniel down.

Behind him, Jake watched Sam go with a growing smile. That version of Sam he’d just sent off, frustrated and snippy and primed for a fistfight, was one that Jake had been well acquainted with from the time that Sam could walk. It wasn’t his favorite way for Sam to be, if he was being honest, and that was something he was pretty confident in after he and Josh had had to step up to the parenting role and Sam had stayed in that combative sullen state for years on end. But it was a storm he weathered happily for the chance to get to laugh with his baby brother, who really was all things good and honest at his core. That was the thing with Sam; there was so much nuance you had to understand to really get close to him. And Jake knew that the man Sam was no doubt about to give a piece of his mind to was well aware of that, and he was going to ask Sam to spend forever with him anyways.

It was Sam’s night, or it was about to be. But Jake couldn’t help but feel pretty lucky too.

Daniel had been transfixed staring at the door since he’d arrived at the bar, but he still nearly jumped out of his skin when Sam’s trademark 3 point knock touched down on the wood. Sam didn’t wait for any kind of response, he simply pushed the door open in a way that Daniel could read as irritation in a second. Despite this, Daniel felt oddly assured by it. If he knew Sam so well that he could read his emotion in the way he opened a door, he was more than qualified to ask him to marry him.

On the walk over, Sam’s mental state had taken an even more rapid decline. As his walking began to border on jogging, Sam’s unwinding anxieties took him on a tour of every possible negative reasoning for this mysterious meetup.

Pick your poison, Sammy, his brain taunted him as it showed him nauseating imagery of Daniel pressed up against a faceless figure with a lovesick expression, Daniel sneering behind Sam’s back at all of eccentricities, Daniel boarding a ship for adventure and far off shores…

Sam had settled for the latter scenario by the time he was outside the Caravel. That had to be it. He saw the way Daniel looked out over the harbor, his eyes smoothing over cresting waves and his broad chest making room for great breaths of salt slick air. Sam knew that deep down Daniel missed his seafaring life no matter how much he assured Sam that he now preferred dry land and the lull of a consistent schedule. But when he thought back on it, Sam couldn’t recall the last time Daniel had assured him of this. Maybe he had changed his mind.

Sam geared himself up for a fight as he walked into the swell of air conditioning, taking in a deep breath as he prepared for the words to spill out and sink into Daniel’s guilty conscience as…as they...

Sam froze as the door swung shut behind him, cutting off the light from the streetlamps so that Sam could be fully encompassed by the light inside.

As it turns out, Daniel hadn’t lied entirely. The night prior, the last of the string lights hung up by Jake in his teen years had flickered their final goodbye and left them all scrambling to pull lamps from storage and furnish the floor with enough light for their patrons to drink by. Since then, a winding river of string lights had been strung in their place, lining the ceiling with warm blurs of orange, red, blue and pink that drenched the entire room. Sam assessed their march around the perimeter of the walls before his gaze landed on Daniel, who was leaning on his hip against the bar and his long, long legs crossed casually. To Sam’s further surprise, Daniel wasn’t wearing the comfortable hooded sweatshirt and jeans he’d tossed on before leaving the house. He was now sporting a wine colored button down with the first few buttons undone and dark dress pants, making him look oddly professional and utterly handsome. Sam flushed and struggled to conjure the words that just moments ago were threatening to burst out.

“Hi, Brandy,” Daniel hummed with a shy smile. “Glad you could make it.”

Sam hesitated, unsure of what to do with his face as he took in the change in his surroundings, his drop dead gorgeous boyfriend, and the fact that he was now even more lost than he thought he could be. Daniel watched him with an amused grin, his rampant anxiety starting to settle down now that he was in the thick of it. No going back now.

“You wanna come here?” Daniel offered, holding a hand out to Sam. “You look cute.”

Daniel couldn’t help but notice that where Sam stood floundering was a few paces to the side of where Daniel had been standing the first time he had ever seen Sam. He recalled it often, usually without meaning to and always when he sat in a designated corner booth on busy nights as their unofficial security detail. It sounded so impossible, but Daniel was always baffled all over again at the memory of watching Sam fly through the back doors, realizing that he was the annoying little terror that Jake had been talking about for months, and then feeling himself fall in love without even hearing his voice.

Sam shook himself from his haze a little and, going off of instinct, he took Daniel’s hand and let him pull Sam next to him. Sam still couldn’t think of anything to say and let Daniel tuck a stray curl of hair behind his ear and gently smooth his knuckle along Sam’s cheekbone as he stood there speechless.

“Seriously, you look so cute,” Daniel cooed. “Did you get cuter since I last saw you?”

Unexpectedly, Sam felt a rush inside him and tears sprang to his eyes. As his bottom lip gave an involuntary quiver, Daniel’s face fell and he leaned in to anticipate Sam’s needs.

“Baby?”

“Please don’t leave,” Sam gasped, a little sob escaping him as he started to cry. It shocked Sam as much as it shocked Daniel, but he couldn’t stave off the wave of borrowed grief and insecurity as he crumpled forwards into Daniel’s chest and cried. Sam had always been an angry crier, but it had been so many years since he’d had good reason to. He’d forgotten what it felt like to feel so stupid, so small.

“Sammy, honey,” Daniel soothed, cradling Sam’s head as his heart raced with a renewed flush of anxiety. “Don’t cry, this is-”

“Don’t tell me not to cry when you’ve spent all this time lying to me!” Sam wailed. “Don’t you dare.”

“Sam-”

“How bad can it be if you can’t talk to me? If you have to use my own brother as some kind of pawn to get me here?”

“Sa-”

“I won’t do it again,” Sam declared through a shuddering sob, clutching the back of Daniel’s shirt and buried his face into the familiar crook of his neck. “I won’t sit around and wait for you to get eaten by a whale or get your throat slit by pirates or what the fuck ever, I won’t, Danny, I won’t.”

“Sam.”

Finally, Sam’s mouth shut and he quieted, not yet lifting his face from the jungle hot humidity he was crying against Daniel’s skin. Daniel smoothed a hand up and down his back, keeping their racing hearts pressed together.

“Sam,” Daniel repeated in a low whisper, speaking right into Sam’s ear. “Nobody is leaving anybody. Okay? This is not what this is, not in the slightest. There you go, deep breaths. You’re alright, baby, just breathe for a second.”

Sam obliged, drawing in as even a breath as he could muster and melting into Daniel’s near hypnotic suggestion as his voice continued to lull Sam into a state of calm again.

“Better?” Daniel asked gently after a minute.

Sam nodded and sniffed, looking up at Daniel and breaking his heart all over again with the remnants of his meltdown blushing his nose and cheeks. This was a face that could break Daniel completely, he realized. Maybe it already had. A face he’d tried to jump overboard for, even though he’d known in some capacity that it was only a mask for a hungry monster.

“What is it, then?” Sam asked cautiously.

“It’s…” Daniel trailed off, trying to remember how he had planned on doing this. It’d all he’d been thinking about, but now that everything had fallen into place, he really couldn’t call to mind what he was supposed to do. What he was supposed to say. It all felt too simple now.

I love you. I want you. I’m staying. Here’s a ring. It’s not enough. But it’s something.

“Why don’t you go put on our song,” Daniel suggested. “And then we’ll talk, hm? You want a drink?”

Sam finally smiled and rolled his eyes, sniffing again and straightening out his clothes as he stepped away from Daniel and attempted to resituate himself. Daniel watched him with a sly grin of his own, fighting to remember every moment with crystal clarity when Sam looked from him over to the jukebox. He watched as Sam’s face registered and then split into an even wider smile, this time laced with a high laugh.

“You dork,” Sam laughed, striding over to the jukebox. It was so predictable what Sam would say next that Daniel mouthed it along with him as he quietly followed behind Sam.

“That’s my tray”, Sam echoed, borrowing his own words from the first time he’d ever spoken to Daniel. It’d become a running joke over the years as Daniel kept his long accused kleptomania alive in the practice of constantly trying to steal Sam’s tray, something that was only funny to the two of them and decidedly idiotic to Sam’s brothers. Sam wasn’t surprised to see it perched atop the jukebox as he settled in front of it, flicking his eyes up to it for a moment before looking back down through the glass crown of the jukebox to find the desired disc.

“You gonna get me a drink or are you just gonna be my creepy shadow?” Sam teased as he selected the song, a familiar violin beginning to whistle over a bright guitar when the jukebox lit up. He could feel Daniel at his back, and if he didn’t know any better, he could feel Daniel’s smile. Sam’s eyes skirted over the tray again as he began to turn around to further question Daniel, but before he got the chance, he caught a flash of something glimmering bright from where it sat atop the worn metal saucer.

Leaning in closer, Sam could see it for what it was. His heart seemed to freeze up in his chest and he drew in a sharp breath, his body seizing so as not to prevent any distraction from the simple little ring that seemed to stare him down as much as he was staring at it.

“There’s an old sailor’s tale,” came Daniel’s voice right over Sam’s shoulder, his arms coming to encircle Sam’s waist as Sam dared to pick up the ring to further gawk at it. “About a lonely pirate and a mermaid’s ring. Can I tell it to you?”

“Daniel,” Sam replied breathlessly. “Daniel, I-”

“Once upon a time,” Daniel interrupted. “There was a very, very lonely pirate who sailed the seven seas. He was lonely because he’d had to leave his lover behind very, very unexpectedly, and he missed him very, very much. The pirate wasn’t the superstitious type, but he was a man in love, and love makes you do crazy things. So the pirate started praying for a sign that when he made his way back to his lover - and he knew that he would - that he would be waiting for the pirate with open arms.”

Sam felt those tears from before rising up again with a renewed purpose, but he didn’t dare interrupt Daniel. He leaned back against his chest and ran his finger along the smooth circlet of pearls, all of them twice as small as the beads on a rosary but just as holy.

“One day the pirate gets the idea that he’ll bring back treasures for his lover as proof of his love, just in case his begging didn’t work. The next time his ship lands on a sandy beach, he spends his day combing the sand for sea glass and shells and anything else the ocean might’ve given up for him to find. As it turns out, the ocean was feeling extremely generous that day, because while the pirate was on his hands and knees looking for his treasure, he found something he never expected to find. A ring. And the pirate knew right away that this ring was his sign that somewhere across all those oceans, his lover was thinking of him too.”

Sam, unable to bear another second without looking into Daniel’s perfect face, turned around and found that Daniel was as close to tears as he was. He looked almost pained in the way he regarded Sam.

“I think the lover would think the pirate was foolish for ever thinking anything otherwise,” Sam rasped, his voice thick with emotion. Daniel laughed a little and rested his forehead against Sam’s for a brief moment.

“Yeah, well, maybe the pirate knew the lover well enough in only a few days that he was pretty sure he was capable of murder considering the state the pirate left him in,” Daniel explained, delivering a kiss to Sam’s forehead when he leaned back to look at him again.

“Finish your story,” Sam whispered eagerly.

“Well,” Daniel continued, clearing his throat before going on. “The pirate had a lot of time to think about the ring. He figured it had probably been thrown into the ocean under the pretense of heartbreak. Maybe love that had fizzled out, or maybe something worse. He got paranoid about it carrying the memory of all of that, but over time, the pirate realized that the ocean had brought it to him because it was ready for a new love. It had been washed clean. The pirate thought maybe he had been too when picking it up and dedicating it with the purpose he had decided for it.”

“What purpose?” Sam blurted. Daniel laughed again and smoothed a hand over Sam’s hair lovingly.

“Can I finish my dramatic monologue or do you want me to spoil it?”

“Spoil it,” Sam grinned, now visibly vibrating with energy as the last of his insecurity wore off and was replaced by pure adrenaline. “Say it. Do it.”

“The pirate decided on two things,” Daniel clarified as he thought back on it. “He decided that if all else failed when he returned to his love, he would get down on one knee and give him the ring and ask him just one more time if he would please be his. But it never came to that. The pirate returned and their love was just as strong. However…”

Daniel gently took the ring from Sam and, carefully, lowered himself down to one knee, never taking his eyes off of Sam.

“He eventually decided he wanted to give him the ring anyways,” Daniel smiled, holding the ring up to Sam. “He decided that he really did want to ask his lover if he would be his forever, even if he was pretty confident that he was already going to be.”

“What are you saying?” Sam breathed, his forefinger and thumb splayed at the hollow of his throat as he tried to assuage his dizziness and anchor himself to the comfort of his locket.

“Sam, I fucking love you,” Daniel sighed. “I’ve loved you before I even knew you. I think I’ll probably love you after I know you, too. Will you marry me?”

Sam couldn’t respond. He simply dropped to his knees and hugged Daniel hard, knocking a laugh and a little cry out of the larger man as he clung to him and began to weep all over again. This time it was from utter relief and unbelievable, blinding, terrifying love.

“Yes,” Sam agreed, nodding his head excitedly and wiping his face with his palm. “Yes, of course, I’ll marry you, oh my god. I can’t believe you. Yes.”

Daniel collapsed into Sam and reciprocated the hug fully, able to relax for the first time in a long time at the confirmation that his years of daydreaming weren’t wasted. Daniel borderline crushed Sam against him as they embraced and laughed, murmuring about how they loved each other and how silly they felt to cry.

“Can I put it on you now?” Daniel eventually asked.

Sam nodded and peeled himself from Daniel’s chest so that Daniel could slip the ring onto Sam’s left hand. Once it was on, Sam held it up and tilted it this way and that so it caught the light just right, electric and pearlescent and beyond beautiful. A bright, clear diamond offset by the pearls; it was everything Sam could’ve wanted. Maybe this was also an apology gift in part from the ocean, Sam wondered.

“Now who would toss this into the ocean?” Sam questioned as he watched the ring dance in the orange glow of the lights.

“Must’ve been a rough break up,” Daniel hummed.

“Yeah, like, maybe one of them left to go be a murderer and the other one had to stay behind to hustle drunks for tips.”

“I can’t imagine anybody would ever be that evil.”

“Yeah, imagine that,” Sam smirked, casting a sidelong glance at Daniel.

“I just said I can’t,” Daniel joked, leaning forward and kissing Sam’s cheek. “Are you feeling a little more assured that I’m not leaving?”

“Maybe a little,” Sam murmured, turning inwards to catch Daniel’s wandering lips in a proper kiss.

After a long couple of minutes of clawing at each other and Sam nearly tipping over from how far Daniel leaned into him to chase his tongue, they broke apart. Sam held Daniel’s face in his hands, the cool metal of the band on his finger tickling Daniel’s fiery skin and making him grin.

“You wanna know something wild?” Daniel asked, voice hoarse from crying and kissing.

“Always.”

“When I went to go get the band adjusted in Italy, the jeweler told me the silver used for the ring was from Spain,” Daniel revealed, hooking the chain of Sam’s necklace and pulling it out as he spoke. “That’s where I got this. What do you think of that?”

“I think it’s fate,” Sam marveled, curling his hand inwards so they could compare the two pieces of jewelry. “I think it was meant to be.”

“Yeah, that’s what I think, too,” Daniel whispered.

“You big sap.”

Daniel turned and kissed Sam’s cheek again and Sam giggled, falling against him and into the touch. Daniel withdrew his lips and stretched before standing up again, holding a hand out to pull Sam to his feet. On the jukebox, the song had long since skipped to something new, but Daniel reached out and selected their song again.

“You wanna know something else?” Daniel asked when the music changed.

“Hm?”

“Remember the night we met?”

“Duh.”

“Hey, watch it with the sass, mister. I’ll pry that ring right off.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Anyways,” Daniel laughed, taking both of Sam’s hands and swinging them slightly. “The night we met. Before you ran away from me, did you know I was going to ask you to dance with me?”

“Really, now?” Sam smiled, blushing with a flutter of butterflies when Daniel nodded toothly and pulled him against him again. A hand went to Sam’s waist, another held the hand with the ring proudly on display.

“Yeah, really,” Daniel confirmed, swaying them to the jovial melody of the song. “I knew you’d say no, but I was gonna ask anyway.”

“You should ask,” Sam flirted.

“We’re already dancing this time.”

“And I was already going to marry you, but you asked me anyhow,” Sam pointed out with a cocky twinkle in his eye, letting Daniel give him a twirl before they settled into an amateur sort of side step with Sam’s arms around Daniel’s neck and Daniel’s arms around his waist.

“So you’d thought about it before?” Daniel prodded shyly, curls hanging down as he smiled dopily at his fiance. “Getting married?”

“Of course,” Sam murmured, feeling the heat creep into his face. “We have been dating for, like, a million years. Glad you decided to stop dragging your feet.”

“Gee, you’re welcome,” Daniel scoffed. Sam laughed and rested his head under Daniel’s chin, allowing them to dance in silence until the last few notes of the song bubbled over and then petered out.

“You wanna go inform the troops?” Daniel asked.

Setting the whole thing up had been a group collaboration between himself and the twins, with Josh giving him the space for the night and Jake being a distraction to allow Daniel the time to set up the lights/change/get his mind together. He knew that they were both on the edges of their seats at their respective posts, Jake sat at the inn and Josh on the couch, probably with Clarice and any number of her chicks fluttering around him. He also knew (because they had told him, loudly and repeatedly) that they needed to know how it went as fast as possible, because they were just as antsy if not more than him.

Sam thought about it quietly before making an indifferent noise and cuddling up closer to Daniel.

“They can wait,” Sam announced, his voice muffled. “I want you all to myself for a little longer.”

“If you follow through on the whole marriage thing, you’ll have me to yourself forever, Brandy,” Daniel reminded him.

“Love the sound of that,” Sam giggled. “How about after forever, too? I think you said something about that.”

“Yes, after that, too. I don’t even know if there’s anything after forever.”

“Wanna find out?”

Daniel pretended to think about it long and hard, like he hadn’t spent every day for the past 5 years saying yes to it over and over and over.

“Yeah,” Daniel agreed. “If we find out together.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

~~~

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