#vanna smiled at you

[sometimesanalice]

Make You Mine This Season

Summary: It’s your second Christmas with Bradley and the holidays are always better with him by your side. After the perfect day out, you come home with a new accessory- just not the one you were hoping for.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 8K

Warnings: so much fluff and some allusions to smut and a cast that looks like a candy cane.

(Author’s Note: set in the Oh, Christmas Tree universe, can be read on its own)

You can’t fight the smile on your face as you watch Bradley studiously stare at the Christmas tree with a delicate glass icicle ornament dangling from his long finger.

“I think it need to go a little to the left, Roos,” you say, watching the way the little golden thread attached to it gleams from the many strands of white lights he had spun around it earlier in the afternoon.

The contrast between your handsome Naval aviator boyfriend and the very large, very fluffy pink Christmas tree he had bought for you would never not thoroughly charm you. 

“Here?” he asks, moving the dainty icicle to the left per your suggestion.

“Maybe just a bit up?”

Bradley moves it and holds it up to a spot near the little glass Hawaiian shirt ornament you’d gotten for him. He was so amused by it that he’d given it what he called a place of honor on the tree.

“Hmm, no. I think back to the right and down a smidge.”

He turns and shoots you a smirk over his broad shoulder, “Ok, now you’re just messing with me.” 

And then he hangs it on the tree with a flourish.

You laugh when he steps back and gives a dramatic sweep of the hand that would put Vanna White to shame.

Ever the showman.

He had been so excited when he’d found the ornaments in the storage locker he’d kept in Virginia earlier in the summer when the two of you had taken a quick trip to there to pack up the remaining things he’d left behind and bring them home.

The sleeves on the flannel plaid shirt he is wearing are rolled up highlighting his forearms and that snug fitting tank and the ridges of his abs on full display. You’d taken the liberties to sneak in a few glances as he’d bent over to grab ornaments out of the large plastic storage container you keep them in.

It’s an easy choice to abandon the silvery glittery Fa-la-la-la garland that you had been working on hanging on that tricky bit of wall space beneath the stairs to come stand next to him by the tree.

Plus, you know that you can get Bradley to put it up for you- even though he hates the feeling of glitter on his hands- if you offer to make him an Old Fashioned in exchange.

He drapes his arm over your shoulders and drops a kiss to the top of your head as you wrap your arms around his waist, the two of you taking a moment to admire the pretty twinkling tree in front of you with Bob Hope crooning softly on the background.

You love this tree.

And not because it is the most wonderfully ostentatious thing you’ve ever seen. Or because he’d surprised you with it when he asked you to move in with him the year before. But because it was one of the many ways he showed you just how important you were to him, just how much he paid attention to you.

Bradley kept asking what you wanted for Christmas this year, but you’d been avoiding giving him an answer.

Because he was the only thing on your list this year.

You would gladly never have a real tree again as long as it meant that Bradley got to be yours forever.

His allergy to pine trees had taken both of you by surprise last year. Before that chaotic afternoon last December, he had never had a real tree before, but it didn’t take long until his normally sunkissed skin has been covered in angry red hives.

And that gorgeous seven-foot Noble Fir that you had selected from the Christmas tree lot had quickly become Jake’s gorgeous seven-foot Noble Fir.

But you’ll never forget that magical moment when you had walked into his cozy living room to see that candy colored confection of a tree for the first time and how proud Bradley had been to be the one to make your dreams of a pink tree Christmas come true.

It was something you had only ever mentioned once in passing, but that’s who Bradley Bradshaw is. The type of man who goes above and beyond for the people he loves.

Last year, the two of you had just picked up a couple boxes of basic multicolored bobbles to hang on the tree. But this year, your pretty pink tree has some new decorations that you’d collected along the way since then.

The sparkling frosty mug was something he’d found at the airport on the way back from when you’d taken him home to meet your parents for the first time. To no one’s surprise, they’d loved him. He’d had a lot of fun at the breweries you’d taken him to and you liked getting to see a tipsy and pink cheeked Bradley Bradshaw.

There was a blue miniature model toy Bronco with a bottle-brush Christmas tree hanging out the back was one you’d recently found at a Christmas market you went to with Nat and Bob the previous weekend. You’ve never handed over your credit card for something so quickly before in your life.

There was even a shiny shamrock that Jake had picked up to commemorate your first- and last- Leprechaun Run.

It was a promise you were coerced into making in exchange for Jake’s help and the use of his truck to move your things into Bradley’s place the weekend after you happily agreed to live in with him. You were planning on waiting until after the beginning of the New Year, but Rooster wouldn’t hear of it. You were able to hold off for a few days, but he’d made some rather compelling points with his mouth that had swayed your mind pretty quickly.

That New Year’s Eve, he’d kissed you properly and thoroughly surrounded by a dozen half-unpacked brown cardboard boxes.

You thought Hangman would have forgotten about it, but it turns out the only person that had forgot was a you, because you’d nearly spit out your beer mid-sip when he’d slapped down the race bib in front of you at the Hard Deck one evening in March.

It was just as terrible as you’d imagined it would be and worse. Not even the four-leaf clover bobble headband you’d worn had cheered you up even the slightest.

The term fun run was an oxymoron and you were willing to die on that a hill.

And of course, there was also a copy of the house key dangling on a pretty pink velvet ribbon. The one he’d originally given you was a permanent fixture on your key ring.

“So what’s the verdict, sweetheart? How did I do? Is it fluffed enough?” he asks, pulling back to look down at you.

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever seen,” you say grinning up at him.

You’ve loved his homey Craftsman since the first time you’d stepped inside it with all of its warm wooden paneling around the entryways and ceiling beams. The hand tiled fireplace was mostly for aesthetics rather than functionality. You’d filled it with a display of tall pillar candles, but there’d been a couple of occasions where the two of you had stacked it with wood picked up from the grocery store and had the sounds of its crackles and pops serving as the soundtrack to your cozy night in.

You loved it even more now that your books were mixed in with his on the bookshelf. On top of his upright piano there were framed pictures of you and him and of all your friends and family. On the mantle of that fireplace were ivory knit stockings embroidered with your name and his.

This was your home now too, pink Christmas tree and all.

“The best thing, huh?” he says, amused.

“Maybe second best,” you muse, sliding your hand into the back pocket of his snug jeans, “Those Danny Zuko shorts you wore last Halloween still live rent free in my head.”

“I’ve still got those short-shorts, you just say the word and I’ll go put them on for you anytime.”

You snort a laugh and pull him down for a kiss.

The two of you have been together for almost a year and a half, but the way Bradley kisses you still sets off butterflies in your stomach and makes your heart flutter.

Soft kisses. Passionate kisses. Hello kisses. See you soon- never goodbye- kisses. Just because kisses. There you are kisses. Never stop kissing me kisses. All of them turn you upside down just like a snow globe.

He pulls away first, looking to the tree again contemplatively, “You know, the more I look at this the I feel like something is missing.”

You skim over the tree with its warm glow from the many strands of lights, the sparkling ornaments, the glinting icicles, and the delicate bejeweled snowflake tree topper. Short of tying on a few bows for the fun of it, there’s nothing more you think this tree needs.

“I might have tucked a little something in the piano bench,” Rooster says with a nod towards his well-loved upright, “Why don’t you take a look.”

You try and fail to ignore the swoop in your stomach as you walk up to the bench. You already know that you want to be his forever and the two of you are on the same page about it, but you don’t want to get your hopes up. You’re trying to be practical, realistic.

But the heart wants what the heart wants, and your heart wants him.

The seat creaks open as you lift the lid open with a not-so-steady hand, and sitting inside a small box filled with iridescent filler are the prettiest pair of ceramic ice skates you’ve ever seen. You lift the dainty ornament from the box to see that they dangle from a couple ribbons that have been tied together in a lovely bow at the top. They even have a little white fluff lining the rims of boot.

It was one of the things you missed most about home, your town had a little outdoor rink that was set up every year. You weren’t the greatest skater and it had been a few years since you’d laced up a pair of boots, but it had always been one of your favorite traditions growing up.

“Oh Bradley, they’re so lovely,” you say with a dreamy sigh, “I love it, thank you!”

You admire them for another moment taking in all their little details before hanging them up on the pink tree near his little Hawaiian shirt ornament in a place of honor on the tree.

“I have another surprise for you,” he says with a grin, looking very proud of himself.

“Oh? When did you become such a man of mystery?” you tease.

“Gotta keep my girl on her toes,” Rooster winks, sliding a finger through your belt loop to pull you closer before wrapping his arms around you. “You know how Hotel del Coronado has that ice-skating rink set up now?”

Of course you did.

The tickets went on sale a little over seven weeks ago and time slots had sold out in five minutes. You’d even signed up early to try and get a spot in the queue and it still had kicked you out with empty hands.

“Yeah,” you say slowly, drawing out the word, looking up at him skeptically.

Bradley has been on a training detachment at the time, so there was no way Mr. One Percent could have gotten them when you couldn’t. There’s just no way.

You must say that part out loud or think it loud enough for him to hear you because that gorgeous smile of his gets devastatingly self-satisfied.

“I sure did, sweetheart-”

You jump up and cut him off with a kiss, he is quick to get his hands underneath you for support while your legs wrap around him.

“Oh my god, Bradley, how?” you ask excitedly between peppering kiss across his nose and cheeks.

“Ok, I can’t take full credit. I had some help,” he admits, clearly happy with your reaction, “Nat has, and I quote, ‘fast fingers’.”

You make a little squeal in delight as you throw your arms around his neck to hug him and he laughs. It’s the best sound in the world to you.

“What do you say, want to make a day of it? I might have a few things in mind for our San Diego Christmas. We’re a couple weeks early, but I’m feeling festive.”

You get too distracted by his smiling mouth to give him your answer then and there, but you remember to officially accept later that night in bed after your heart finally stops racing.

Convincing you to move in with him might be the best thing Bradley’s ever done.

Those cool Winter nights last year had tasted like bourbon and were spent wrapped up together on the couch and under the covers.

Your first big fight had been over whose Super Bowl team was going to win. There had been a lot of trash talk that night, but eventually a peace had been brokered. And really, no one was a loser when it came to orgasms.

In the Spring, he had built you a bunch of raised garden beds in the backyard for you to grow whatever you wanted. He’d learned that he had a bit of a green thumb when it came to zucchinis, a fact that irked you to no end because you could never get them to produce anything. He didn’t know sunshine had a scent until he could smell it on your skin with your hands covered in dirt and a smile on your facec.

And he was not surprised to learn that he was also very much a fan of your sundress collection.

The golden Summer days were spent at the beach and taking road trips to nowhere in the Bronco then the long way home. Rooster burned more often than he cared to admit, but you started keeping a container of aloe in the fridge for him. He’d never say no to have your soft hands on his body, your touch more soothing than the cooling gel could ever be.

That Fall he’d finally been able to go home with you for Thanksgiving. He’d met your family earlier in the year, but you’d been so proud to show him off at the official family gathering as you’d sipped on your cranberry mimosa. And after a year of planning, the two of you had finally been able to enact your Stealthy Soufflé Scheme.

He had been determined to get his girl that closely guarded recipe no matter what.

Your Aunt Christine had been putty in his hands with all of his yes, ma’ams and no, ma’ams and charming smiles and All-American golden boy aviator thing. You’d primed him on what things she was interested in and he had fully leaned into it, sweet talk and all. It didn’t hurt that she had been a big fan of the expensive bottles Syrah the two of you had brought with you.

You and your mom had been thrilled when he’d presented you with the handwritten copy of the coveted recipe. He had been happy to do it, but he didn’t mind the way you showed him your thanks later that night in your childhood bedroom.

He was the first boyfriend you’d ever had in there, and if he has his way, he’d also be the last.

Victory- and that not-so-secret-anymore corn soufflé recipe- never tasted so good. 

The two of you had had a great first Christmas together last year, excluding the slight hiccup with the whole hives thing. And he knows he’s a bit of a perfectionist, but he wants to make this one even better.

He had let you sleep in as long as he could, but he was excited for all the festive things he had arranged for today.

“C’mon, sleepy girl. We’ve got plans,” he says, skimming a few soft kisses along your shoulder.

“Do those plans involve coffee?” you mumble sleepily into your pillow.

He chuckles and brushes back a few of the hairs that are stuck against your forehead, “Of course, it’ll be the first stop after.”

You peek up at him from under your silk eye mask, he’s always liked a slightly fussy girl. You’d even got him one for his deployments to help him sleep better on the carrier.

“After what, Roos,” you ask skeptically.

“You seemed to enjoy that Leprechaun Run you did with Jake and I saw that there was an Ugly Sweater Fun Run today and I signed us up, we have to be there in an hour.”

“Bradley, you didn’t,” you say with a gasp, sitting up like you’ve been struck by lightning.

You look so alarmed, clutching the top sheet to your chest, that he can’t help but throw his head back and laugh.

“No, I didn’t. I promise,” he says, trying to pull you into his chest.

You shove lightly at his shoulder, “That was so rude of you, Bradley Peter Bradshaw.”

“Not the government name,” he smirks, leaning down to trail a couple kisses along your neck. He likes the way you always shiver when his mustache grazes that ticklish spot under your ear.

“Oh my god, I swear I just had a war flashback to that second mile when Jake tried to make me keep up with him,” you huff, leaning your head to the side to let him continue apologizing with his mouth, “You’re so lucky I’m even talking to you right now.”

“I am very lucky to have such a pretty, smart, and forgiving girlfriend. One who appreciates over the top Christmas decorations and brunch with themed cocktails.”

That piques your interest and you seem much more awake now for someone who usually needs at least two cups of coffee before becoming a fully functional human being, “Themed cocktails, you say?”

“Mhmm, they even have a Ho-Ho-Hot and Spicy Bloody Merry, spelled m-e-r-r-y,” he says with a smile, running a finger down the bridge of your nose. “But to get one, we have to get out of this bed and into the shower.”

“Sounds like it would be more efficient if we took one together, huh?” you grin, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Plus I’m all about preserving the planet’s natural resources.”

The two of you were a little late getting out of the house, having worked up an appetite, but still manage to make it in time for the reservations he had made.

The restaurant had been swathed in miles of frosted evergreen garlands with so many oversized ornaments dangling and ribbons woven throughout that he wasn’t sure how it hadn’t come crashing down off the ceiling. Not an inch of it was left undecorated, it was all stands of lights and shiny wreaths and giant cellophane covered candies.

Brunch had been complete with a couple of those Bloody Merry’s he’d heard about from Coyote, as well as an order of Santa pancakes topped with a hat of strawberries tossed with orange zest infused syrup.

The Christmas radio station was playing all of your favorites and you were singing along as he zipped along the highway to the next stop.

The Ocean Beach Christmas tree was beloved for being San Diego’s unofficial response to the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Bob had told him he’d stumbled upon it on accident one day last year when he had been exploring his new city and learned about the tree’s forty-year history and had enthusiastically recommended that Rooster added it to his festive agenda.

Bradley loved the way your face lit up at the sight of it. The top of the massive tree was leaning to the right and looked straight out of Whoville the way it decorated with all kinds of blow up pool toys. There were beach balls galore, traditional ones and ones that looked like disco balls, a few parrots, and even one shaped like an electric guitar.

“Oh my god, look!” He looks up from the text message he was replying to and follows the line of your arm to where your finger is directing his gaze, “Another bird defying the laws of physics.”

And there tucked away up in the tree next to a blow-up globe is an inflatable rooster.

On the way back into town, two of you stopped by Mission Bay to grab some more coffee and walk around the marina to check out some of the decorated boats docked for the Parade of Lights. He’d heard about it from Penny, who had even participated in the event herself a few years ago.

You’d both agreed the one that had turned the tall mast of the sailing boat into a glowing Christmas tree was the clear winner.

The next stop was something Bradley knew you’d be really excited about.

He’d found out about the Christmas centerpiece floral arrangement class from Nat who had a crush on the florist who ran the little shop.

The class was filled with mostly women, but there were a couple other men scattered around. They’d greeting him with that head nod that only men seem to exchange, like you got roped into this too, huh?, but what they didn’t know was that being there had been his idea.

Rooster was slipping his phone back into his pocket when you returned back to your little round table with an arm full of various flowers and different greens, with not a pine frond in sight. He’d even called in advance to make sure that there wouldn’t be any involved, just in case.

You were divvying up the things that you’d gathered from the long farmhouse tables in the front between the two of you when his phone pings again.

“Rooster, is everything ok? I feel like your phone is going off a ton this afternoon,” you asked, putting down the white berry looking things to look at him, a little crease there between your eyebrows.

“Yeah, of course,” he’d said, rubbing the back of his neck, “Fanboy decided to invite chaos into the group chat by asking if a hot dog was a sandwich or not. It’s getting pretty contentious.”

You give him a look but go back to dividing the pile in front of you, moving on from the berry things to some small roses.

“Also, for the record, a hot dog is definitely a category of its own. You don’t call a hamburger a sandwich,” you’d replied, not missing a beat.

“You won’t hear me arguing with that logic.”

“Good. Because facts are facts, Bradley.”

He pulled out his phone again to give it one last quick skim before turning the volume down, before noticing what flowers you’d just set in front of him, “Hey, are those dahlias?”

You hold up a stem with a large deep burgundy flower for him, giving it a spin between your fingers, “They are! It’s a little late in the season for them, so I’m surprised to see them here. Aren’t they pretty?”

“Those were my mom’s favorites,” he’d said fondly, remembering a backyard from decades ago that was lined with around the edges with the flowers.

“Were they? Well, I’m glad I grabbed them then,” you said with a soft smile, before handing him a few more to work with.

By the end of class, he knows his ears are pink because of how much you’re showering him with praise and gushing over his arrangement. He’d even gotten a few supportive thumbs ups from some of the other people in class.

“Seriously, Bradley. It’s so lovely! I mean, look at those pinecones you tucked in it. I can’t wait to put it on the dining table!”

You wanted to swing by Mav and Penny’s place to drop yours off for them, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he managed to convince you that it could wait until tomorrow.

He couldn’t wait for the next part of your day together.

Bradley jogs around the front of the Bronco to open your door for you after he parks at the Hotel del Coronado. He gives you his hand to help you down from the car, instead you reach and pull his face to yours.

The kiss is like spun sugar, airy and sweet. He could taste the lingering peppermint from your latte earlier.

“What was that for,” he murmurs against you lips.

“I just really love you,” you sigh, nudging his nose with yours, “Today has been so perfect. I feel like I’m in one of my Christmas movies, except I know you’re not going to ask me to leave my job in the big city to help you run your grandmother’s failing bakery to only get paid in gingerbread and Christmas spirit.”

“Lucky for you, my grandma could barely make toast, so you’re spared from such a fate. You wouldn’t need that little Mini Cooper of yours in a town that only has one stoplight.”

You press a quick kiss to his cheek, “Well thank goodness for small miracles.”

“We’ve still got one more thing on the list. You ready for this?” Bradley asks, holding his hand out.

You slip your hand in his with a grin, “Virtue and Moir better watch out.”

You can’t say you’ve ever expected to see an ice rink set up with a display of white sand and sparkling blue ocean behind it. But it was easily one of the most magical things you’ve ever seen.

The sunset has painted the skies a beautiful display of cool blues, soft pinks, and dusky purples. The palm trees lining the rink have been done up in strands of white lights that crisscross over it above your heads. The mixture of happy laughter, Christmas songs piped over the sound system, and waves crashing served as the soundtrack to the moment.

And you’re trying desperately not to fall and make a fool of yourself.

It was more than a little humbling stepping onto the rink after having not had a pair of ice skates on for more than a decade. It had been awhile since your family had indulged in this particular tradition, but you figured it would be like riding a bike.

It’s almost laughable now how wrong you were.

“How are you so good at this?” you jokingly accuse as you wobble on your skates, yet again. Luckily, Bradley’s sturdy grasp on your hand keeps you from falling.

He laughs, “I thought you said you did this all the time growing up?”

“I did! I just never said I was good at it.” A kid whizzes past you- a little too close, a little too fast- and Bradley shoots a disgruntled look at his swiftly retreating figure. “You come from a snow state, it’s in your blood. You automatically have the advantage.”

“Are you thinking of the other V-state? Vermont?” he teases, easily gliding around you swapping spots so that you’re closer to the edge of the rink rather than the middle.

“It snows in Virginia, I googled it.”

“I mean, yeah, but not a ton,” he says, “But it wasn’t like I was hitting up the indoor rinks either.”

“So you’re telling me you’re just a natural?” You roll your eyes affectionately at him.

He winks at you, “You said it not me, sweetheart.”

You’d nearly melted on the sight when Rooster had knelt down in front of you and looked up at you with such a boyishly charming smile as he’d tied the laces of your rented ice skates.

It took a moment to get your hummingbird heart back under control after that.

After a few more laps around, you’re starting to feel like you’re falling into the rhythm of it. You’re still keeping an eye out for people and the older kid who had earned himself more than one glare from people trying to enjoy their time on the rink as he erratically bobbed and wove his way through them. But your strides are getting longer and the shifting motion from side to side is getting smoother. You could almost claim to be gliding.

You’d forgotten how much fun it was, but then again, Bradley always made everything better and brighter.

Your cheeks ache in the best way from how much smiling you’ve been doing today.

And if you faked a couple wobbles so that he’d put his arm around you, it was worth the sacrifice of trying to look graceful. He’s already seen you at your best and at your worst, so you didn’t think your lack of skill standing on a quarter of an inch of metal was going to scare him away.

Rooster is a few feet ahead of you showing off some of his fancy footwork and maybe if you hadn’t been so distracted by his smile you would have heard the aggressive woosh of the kid’s skates as he sped up behind you.

It had only been a matter of time.

He collides with you but keeps his balance and propels himself forward, not slowing his pace in the slightest before taking off again. Your feet slip out for beneath you and before you know it you’re extending your right arm down to try and break your fall.

You meet the ice hard.

You feel pop.

A rush of warmth.

And then throbbing.

The next five hours pass in a twinkling blur of heavy guilt and aching pain.

Bradley had gone through so much effort planning such a perfect day for you and you feel terrible about how it ended.

The wait at the hospital had been miserable. The lights were too glaring and the noises too loud. The garish green and red garland draped on the desk seemed to mock you as you’d gone through the motions of getting checked in.

Your wrist had been killing you and you hated being the reason that Rooster’s leg hand been bouncing anxiously next to you in the uncomfortable plastic chairs. He’d tried to hide it, but you’d seen that deep furrow between his brows. You’d almost cried when he started stroking the back your pain-free hand with this thumb. It wasn’t until they’d brought you back for X-rays and had given you a light dose of painkillers that the world had shifted back into the dreamy soft focus it had been like earlier in the day with Bradley when he’d taken you on all those perfect dates.

You didn’t know if he had planned anything else, all you knew is that everything had unraveled so quickly.

It’s an odd feeling like you could float away at any moment. The painkillers made you feel buoyant and light, yet you can feel the weight on your shoulders just the way you feel the weight of the cast on your wrist.

Even now as the candy-colored lights that he’d put up along the front of the house bounce off of his still perfect curls, he’s wearing the softest of smiles for you as he works to open the front door. His dreamy brown eyes are reflecting nothing back at you other than warmth and affection and care.

Your wonderful, loving, perfect boyfriend. Your perfect Bradley.

You know it’s not entirely the drugs fault the way you’re struck by just how pretty he is. You’ve always thought so, but here and now you’re simply mesmerized by him under the glow of the Christmas lights.

“I don’t think I’ve been called pretty before, sweetheart. But thank you,” Bradley says with a little amused chuckle.

“Well you are. And your hair. Bradley, it’s not fair.” The words are tumbling out of your loose lips.

“My hair isn’t fair?” he asks with a tilt of his head, holding open the front door for you.

“No, it’s not! You just wash it and it dries like that?” He takes your purse from you and sets it on the entry table before helping to ease off the heavier sweater jacket you were wearing from your shoulders. “I don’t think you get it. You’re pretty, but you’re so handsome too.”

He squats down in front of you and smiles up at you before helping to slip off your shoes, “I’ll take handsome too if it’s on the table, sounds like a nice combo.”

“Please, you sound like Jake now,” you giggle.

“Oh no, we can’t have that now can we,” he grins, “But at least I’m pretty and handsome, hopefully that’ll cushion the blow.”

And you just love him.

You love him for the way he loves you and takes care of you and tries to make you laugh when he knows you’re feeling down. You reach up to pull his face to yours when you are distracted by the thick cast on your arm.

“This wasn’t the accessory I was hoping for for Christmas,” you say with a sigh.

The panic that electrifies your body is immediate as your spine goes ramrod straight. Oh no oh no oh no oh no. You can almost see the words swirl and twirl around him, and you know there’s no way you can snatch them back from the way they hang in the air.

“Ohmygod. Oh my god, I didn’t mean to say that.” You’re so flustered now, so embarrassed. “Please pretend you didn’t hear that.”

But Bradley is looking at you with his eyes crinkled around the corners and his lips pressed together like he is trying to hold back a laugh with the way his cheeks are pulling up.

“Oh, did you want a pair of earrings?” he teases, cupping your face in his hand.

“Bradley,” you whine.

“C’mere, baby,” he laughs and pulls you into his chest. You wrap your arms around him and wonder briefly if he can feel the hard plaster of your cast pressed against his back. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, “You know you never did tell me what you wanted for Christmas.”

“Don’t need anything,” you murmur into the warmth of him.

He’s already all you’ve ever wanted.

As you make your way up the stairs, glow from your pretty pink tree seems brighter than usual. Normally, you’d take one last peek back at it before going to bed, but you’re still a bit wobbly on your feet. It’ll still be there waiting for you in the morning.

“Oh shit,” you hear him mutter from behind you.

“What’s wrong, Roos?”

“Ah- just stubbed my toe. C’mon, let’s get you upstairs.” The heavy tread of his footsteps is close behind you, you can almost feel the warmth of him at your back.

At you back. By your side. He’s the only person you’ll ever need.

They’d given you some of the strong stuff and he could tell that you were still floating in that sweet spot before all the gravity settles back into your bones.

The distal radius fracture in your right wrist meant that you’d be in the cast for the next six weeks. You’d gone with a white and pink stripped candy cane inspired look to match the tree, Bradley. While he wishes it wasn’t there in the first place, he thought the pattern you’d chosen was cute.

He’d quickly and quietly kicked off his shoes before he’d followed you into the bedroom. Hoping that you wouldn’t notice them, he’d take a disinfecting wipe to the floor and stairs tomorrow.

For as well as Rooster knew you, he felt a little out of his element because he knew you were hurting but he wasn’t sure what would make you feel better in that moment. When he offered to draw you a bath he’d instantly known it was the right choice by the look on your face.

So he’d made you one with all of your favorite products. The mound of bubbles he was able to achieve was truly impressive, if he did say so himself. He even dimmed the lights and lit a few candles for you.

Bradley had carefully wrapped up your cast in plastic wrap and secured the top with a rubber band. And the dejected pout on your face when you looked at it and called it an “unattractive arm condom” had nearly sent him over edge.

He’s already looking on his phone for other options, sitting on the bathroom floor next to you as you soak in the tub, when he feels your fingers thread through his hair and he leans into your touch.

“I really am jealous of your hair, you know. I’m sure there were a few of the girls at that floral class who were too.”

Your head is leaning back against the lip of the tub as you gaze at him, your hair wet from him washing it for you. He’d noticed the moment you realized how difficult it would be for you to do it yourself for the foreseeable future. But you brought out the optimistic side of him and he’d already come up with a solution, “I guess we’ll have to take more showers together then, so I can wash your hair for you. Plus, it’ll be good for the environment”. You’d laughed, and he was happy to see some of the light returning back into your eyes.

“I don’t know why when yours is so pretty,” he says, reaching out and lightly tugging on a lock of your hair.

“Did I tell you one of them asked me if you had a brother? She was honestly so put out when I said that you didn’t that I’m pretty sure she took the last of the dahlias out of spite when she saw me reaching for them. They didn’t even match her arrangement,” you say rolling your eyes, adjusting the way your plastic wrapped candy cane cast rested against the other side of the tub. “Like sorry not sorry, I’m not going to give you my boyfriend.”

“Was it the woman in the striped sweater?”

“Yes! It was her!”

Bradley had notice her checking him out a little too closely for a man who was clearly there another woman and happily taken.

“She had crazy eyes, I wouldn’t have wanted you to give me to her anyways.”

You snicker at that, “She did have crazy eyes.”

He makes a mental note to remember to grab the arrangements from out of the back of the Bronco before he goes to bed. He didn’t want anything to happen to them, but that could until after you were tucked in bed and asleep.

“But the instructor was so sweet, Roos. I told her that the dahlias were your mom’s favorites and then she went to the back and got me a bunch. She didn’t put them on the table or anything for anyone else, just handed them over to me for us to use. It was a real girls supporting girls moment, we bonded.”

He’s struck by the fact that you’d already known about his mom’s favorite flower. That you had let him think it was happenstance when really you had grabbed them because you’d known it would mean something to him. That you wanted to make it special for him when he was trying to make it a special day for you.

He didn’t think it was possible to love you any more than he already did, but you were so good at making him fall in love with you over and over again.

“That was really nice of her, sweetheart,” he says, his throat a little thick.

“It really was. And better yet she’s single and likes women,” you say with a grin, “I got her number to get coffee, but I might see if I can play matchmaker between her and Nat. She looks like Nat’s type.”

“This was our instructor? You got all of that out of her in a few minutes of conversation?” he asks, impressed.

You give him a cheeky shrug of your shoulder, “Yeah, I’m efficient. She owns the shop too. I think I’m going to order something for Penny and Mav from her closer to Christmas.”

“You know what, I think you’re right, she does seem very much like Nat’s type,” Bradley smiles to himself, Phoenix is going to be very excited when he tells her about this.

“’m always right,” you hum.

“You sure are, sweetheart,” he says fondly.

He watches as your eyelids start to get heavy and helps you to get out of the tub, wrapping you up in the biggest, fluffiest towel he can find and sits you on the bed as he goes into the closet to find something cozy for you to wear.

“What do you want me to grab you, baby?”

“Your shirt,” you call out sleepily.

He peeks his head around the opening, “Sweetheart, you’re not going to want hospital germs in bed.”

“No, not that one,” you say, scrunching your nose, “Your henley. The soft navy one with the little white flecks. ‘s my favorite.”

You look so tired, he doesn’t like the slump of your shoulders. He knows that feeling all too well and he hates that you feel so bad about something that you had no control over. It had been such a good day up until the end. But even so, you’re the only person he wants to go through the highs and lows with.

He strips down and puts both his clothes and yours into the hamper before grabbing the shirt for you. “Arms up,” he says gently, he pulls the sleeve wide to fit over your cast before threading it down your arms and over your head.

Rooster pulls back the covers for you to crawl into bed. He climbs in after you, cradling you against him as he reaches over for the remote to turn on your favorite Christmas movie channel for you to fall asleep too.

Your cast rests heavy on his chest.

The heroine just won the cookie cook-off and he thinks you’ve fallen asleep, but then you murmur quietly into the dark room, “This is the second year in a row, Bradley, I really think we should consider skipping Christmas next year. For both of our sake’s.”

“We’ve got too much Christmas spirit for a little pine tree allergy or fractured wrist to keep us down,” he tips your head up so that you’re looking at him, “Give it time, it’ll turn around. I promise, sweetheart.”

He seals that vow with a sweet kiss against your lips and a few minutes later he feels as your breaths even out and you fall asleep tucked against him.

You wake up the next morning feeling more than a little groggy and cotton-headed as everything from yesterday comes rushing back to you.

As does the aching in your right wrist.

You reach out for Rooster, but his side of the bed is already cold. He’s always been an early riser and once he’s awake he doesn’t know how to sit still. You wouldn’t have minded cuddling with him for a little bit, but knowing him he has probably already brewed a pot of coffee for you.

When you finally crack open your eyes, you see that he’s left out a bottle of the prescription strength ibuprofen the doctor had sent home with you on your nightstand and a note written in his slanted script reminding you to take one. Your sweetest boy.

You attempt to splash some cold water on your face with one hand, willing it to depuff your face a little bit and then try to fix up your hair so that you look and feel less bedraggled. It is one thing if Bradley is the one responsible for it, but that wasn’t the case this morning.

Before heading downstairs, you decide on a whim to change out of his shirt and into the cozy cream-colored fuzzy lounge set you’d bought on sale the other week. It takes three times longer to get dressed than it usually did, but getting yourself at least a little more put together made you feel a bit more in control. You knew the extra effort wasn’t necessary, but you felt cute and it was making you feel a little bit better about everything.

The pink and white cast was a bit of a choice looking at it in the morning light filtering through the airy curtains, but you thought you pulled it off well. It was cheerful and fun. And you weren’t going to let it affect you or your Christmas plans with your perfect boyfriend.

There is still some residual guilt you’re trying to shake off, you know it was a fluke of fate, but you’re already thinking about ways to make it up to him all the same.

You gingerly make your way down the stairs making a mental note to look up what other festive things were happening this weekend and call out to Rooster, “Please tell me there’s coffee.”

The raspy laugh that reaches your ears makes you smile for the first time that morning, “I’ve got one ready for you in the living room, sweetheart. It’s ready when you are.”

The painkillers, the coffee. The man is a saint and looks like a god. And he’s all yours.

You take those final few steps a bit faster, ready for the strong dark roast that only he seems to be able to make to just right and to thank him for taking such good care of you.

You lose all words when you walk into the living room.

It’s like you’ve walked into a dreamy pink forest straight out of a fairytale.

Your beloved very large, very fluffy, pink tree covered with all of your memories collected from the past year and Bradley’s mom’s sparkling vintage glass icicles is surrounded by two other very large, very fluffy, pink Christmas trees.

The newest additions to the living room glow with the hundreds of twinkling white lights. It’s ethereal and whimsical the way the light bounces and dapples on the walls and floors.

And there standing in front of them is Bradley, barefoot in his favorite sweatpants in your cozy living room of the home he’s made with you looking like a daydream.

You don’t think it’s the prescription strength pain medication kicking in that makes you feel like you’re floating as you walk towards him. You know it’s all him.

Bradley says your name with such adoration, such love that you swear you feel your heart reshape in your chest with his name on it.

“I envisioned this a bit differently in my mind, but the way I see it, we’re just starting the ‘in sickness and in health’ part a bit early,” he says, taking your right hand and dropping a kiss to your cast. Your eyes well up at the tender gesture.

And then you stop breathing when he sinks down onto one knee in front of you.

“I love you so much, sweetheart. I love your big heart and the way you’re so kind and generous to everyone you meet. I love the way you can light up a room with your smile. The best parts of my days are when I am with you. You’re the only person I want to wake up to, the only person I want to fall asleep with in my arms, and the only person who I want a forever with.” He reaches out and takes your shaky hand in his warm one, “Last year, you let me give you more than a drawer and it has been the best thing that has ever happened to me. You are the best damn thing that has ever happened to me. This year, will you let me give you my last name too and marry me?”

You can almost see his heart that he is wearing on his sleeve. His pretty honey brown eyes are tracing over every inch of your face, almost like he is trying to commit every microcosm of your expression to memory.

You had imagined this moment so many times. It was the movie you’d put on in your mind on those nights when sleep felt just out for reach. And like a snowflake, no two dreams had been the same.

But nothing you’d imagined could have ever topped the reality of this moment here and now.

Because there was nothing was better than being surrounded by three pink fluffy trees and looking forward to getting to spend a lifetime with Bradley Bradshaw.

“Well it’s convenient I fractured the right one,” you say with a watery laugh as a few happy tears escape from your eyes.

“I guess that is a lucky break,” he grins.

“Literally.”

You didn’t think it was possible to smile this wide. That you could be this happy.

“You still haven’t given me an answer yet, sweetheart,” he says, slightly squeezing your good hand.

“Haven’t I though?” you tease. There’s no what he doesn’t know what your answer is, not with the way you’re beaming.

“C’mon, let me hear you say it.”

You don’t make him wait for long.

“Yes, Bradley, yes I will marry you. It’ll always be a yes with you.”

You barely get to finish your sentence before he is shooting to his feet, pulling you into his arms and kissing you.

Your Bradley. Your fiancé.

On Christmas morning, after all the presents are unwrapped, you find yourself sitting under your perfectly pink tree surrounded by scraps of ribbons and bits of shiny wrapping paper.

Even your striped pink and white cast looked particularly festive under the gleam of the trees.

Rooster is in the kitchen making another pot of coffee for the two of you to share. You can hear him singing along to one of the vintage crooner Christmas albums you had gotten him.

You’ll be hosting Mav, Penny, and Amelia for dinner tonight. You let yourself enjoy this quiet of the mid-morning before things get chaotic. The two of you had dressed the oval oak dining table yesterday afternoon. The centerpiece you’d ordered from Nat’s now New Year’s Eve date was stunning, there were even a few white dahlias tucked into the arrangement. Thankfully, with no pine needles in sight.

The tall pillar candles had been moved off to the side and a real fire was popping in the hearth of the tiled fireplace. And the sun streaming through the bay windows is bouncing off that sparkly silver garland that you’d gotten Bradley to hang up for you in a way that makes the shiny wooden floors look like they’ve been scattered with specks of confetti.

The swirling, sparkling, shimmering dots on the ceiling, however, were from your own ring as you move and tilt your hand admiring the way the sun illuminates it. You know the matching pair of diamond earrings that Bradley had gotten for you as you Christmas gift are shining just as bright.

He still blushes whenever anyone teases him about forgetting to pull out the engagement ring he had got for you before he’d proposed. But you wouldn’t have changed anything about that moment for the world.

The marquise diamond had belonged to his mom, but he had had it reset in gold with a halo of diamonds around it for you. He’d even bought a pink velvet box to put it in for the occasion. It was easily the prettiest thing you’d ever seen and your heart still fluttered every time you saw it on your finger.

The two new trees are still only dressed with the many strands of lights that they’d arrived with. You learned that Bradley had enlisted Jake and Natasha to help him out with that particular surprise that day a couple weeks ago when he’d taken you on what you affectionately refer to as the 12 Dates of a Christmas Proposal.

Your favorite pink tree, the one he had gotten for you last year- the one you’re sitting under now- was also in possession of a new accessory. A shiny new pink ring pop ornament Bradley had gotten to commemorate the occasion of you saying yes and was hanging in a place of honor on the tree right between the little Hawaiian shirt ornament and the dainty, dangling ice skates.

Saying yes was the easiest thing you’ve ever done.

Yes to forever. Yes to him.

This season and every season.

You couldn’t wait to see what new ornaments would fill those trees by next year.

And the one after that.

And the one after that.

And the next one after that.

Happy Holiday's! It's been almost a year since I've posted my very first story on here. I'm so thankful that a zoom kaboom plane movie has introduced me to so many wonderful people! Thank you for reading my stories and for all the support I've received over this last year! It has meant the world to me!

This story is set in the Oh, Christmas Tree universe. If you missed the fic that started it all, you can read it here!

Many thanks to Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) for so, so many reasons. I hope you enjoy this, this one's for you!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[kaleldobrev]

Vampergeist (5) — The 15 Year Problem Series

Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader & Dean Winchester

Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Cursing (6x), Age Gap (15 years), Sexual tension & Vulnerable Reader

Authors Note: Only 2 more parts after this one gang! I hope y'all have been having a great time with this series so far! | It's one of my favorite universes to write for | A prequel series to the Old Man Universe (OMU) on how Dean and reader met | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | As always, thoughts are in italics and the "POV's" switch between Dean & Reader | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆

⬸ Go Back & Read Chapter 4

“Okay, I think I know what we’re dealing with,” Dean said, looking up from one of the case files the coroner had given you less then half an hour ago. He kept a strong grip on the files, his tone and facial expressions serious.

You gave him a slightly questionable look as you sipped your beer and squinted your eyes slightly. Before you had called Sam, you had done some digging and you were sure that it was a poltergeist case, as all signs of one were there at all of the crime scenes. The only couple of things you hadn’t quite nailed yet were who the poltergeist was, and why it seemed to be only targeting medical students. “Yeah, it’s a polter—”

“A Vampergeist,” Dean said at the exact same moment as you, essentially cutting you off.

Your mouth was half open, trying to process what he just said. After the case was over, you made a mental note to ask Sam if his brother said things like this often. You folded your hands, eyeing Dean, trying to keep a straight face. “What in the living fuck is a Vampergeist?”

“It’s a poltergeist that sucks the blood of its victims like a vampire,” Dean explained, his tone with slight humor in it. “Vampergeist,” he repeated, moving his hands in a gesture as if he was somehow imitating Vanna White. The smile on his face was a rather goofy one — similar to that of a toddler who told his mother a new word he had just discovered. But you couldn’t help but smile looking at him. With the short amount of time you’ve been with Dean, he had made you smile more than anyone had in such a long time.

“Vampergeist is definitely a new one,” you said, playing along with his new word. A word that you didn’t want to admit to him that you were actually pretty fond of. “Unfortunately, Vampergeists exist just as much as Bigfoot and Nessie do,” you teased.

“Vampergeists don’t exist,” he mumbled to himself, using a slightly mocking tone. You smirked, giving a quiet chuckle to yourself at his imitation of you.

Dean rubbed his eyes, feeling the eye strain starting to hit him from looking at the case files and the laptop. At this point, neither one of you had a clue who the poltergeist could be, and why it seemed to be specifically targeting medical students of all people. In his long hunting career, and in your numerous poltergeist cases you’ve worked, neither of you had ever seen or heard of one that drained the blood of its victims before; especially one that didn’t even leave marks for entry.

He looked at you, and you were biting your bottom lip; something that you tended to do, he noticed, whenever you were thinking or concentrating hard on something. He wished he was the one biting it. Fuck, I need to get laid, he thought.

You must of felt his stare, as all of a sudden you looked up from the case file and smiled at him. The way you smiled killed him. "Did you find anything?" You asked, placing the case file on the table.

"No," he answered automatically, rubbing his face again. "But what I can tell you is that I have a fuck ton of eye strain. Which means, it's time to take a break," he said, patting the table and getting up.

You weren't against a break, as the more breaks you took, the longer it took to work the case. And the longer it took to work the case, meant the longer amount of time you got to spend with Dean.

As he got up from the table, he went to his side of the bed and plopped onto it, grabbing the remote from the side table and turning on the television. "Watching tv isn't going to help your eye strain you know," you commented. "Might make it worse."

Dean scoffed. "Everything can be solved by watching some TV," he said. "Now come." He patted your side of the bed, and started flipping through the channels trying to find something the two of you could watch together.

As you lied down on the bed next to Dean, your heart started to pound quickly. You were inches away from him, and all you wanted to do was reach out and touch him. You wanted to grab his hand and hold it in yours, rest your head on his shoulder. But the more you thought about all the things you had wanted to do with him, the sadder you got. You were never going to be able to rest your head on his shoulder, or feel his lips on yours. There was no way he would ever look at you in a romantic way.

There was absolutely nothing to watch, which slightly surprised him, because even in shitty motels, there was at least one thing to watch. But the more he channel surfed, the deeper he sighed. “There’s nothing on, not even Scooby-Doo,” he said.

“Is Scooby-Doo your favorite?” You asked, looking at him, and he nodded in response.

“Yeah. Like I said before. Scooby-Doo was one of those things that was always on no matter where me, my dad and Sammy were. It was also one of the few things that I watched where I knew the bad guy was going to lose,” he explained. “Like —”

“Horror movies,” you added. “That’s why I like horror movies so much. You know the bad guy is always going to lose,” you explained. Of course you fucking like horror movies, he thought. Was there something the two of you didn’t have in common?

“Yeah, exactly,” he agreed. “That’s what I tell Sammy all the time. He says our life is pretty much a horror movie, that’s why he doesn’t like them but, at least I know in movies the bad guy loses. In our world well…”

“It’s not a guarantee,” you said, finishing his sentence for him yet again, your tone sounding almost slightly saddened. “Speaking of which,” you began, as you sat on the edge of the bed, “we need to find out who this poltergeist is before anymore students end up dead,” you said, as you walked back over to the table.

“Yahtzee!” Dean randomly called out, throwing his hands up in the air before spinning his laptop to face you. “Read the title of this article I finally found,” he said, with the biggest, impressed smile on his lips.

“David Falko’s medical instruments donated to medical museum at The University of Tulsa,” you read aloud. “What about it?” You asked.

“Keep reading, and look at the date on the bottom of the article,” Dean pointed out.

“July first, twenty-sixteen,” you said.

“And when was the first murder?” Dean asked.

“July third, twenty-sixteen,” both you and Dean at the same time.

“Son of a Bitch,” you mumbled.

“But wait, there’s more,” Dean began, holding up his pointer finger before turning his laptop back to him. “I did a little bit more digging on our pal Falko here, and fifty years ago, he murdered three of his medical students using the exact same instruments that were donated.”

“How do you explain the blood draining with no marks?” You asked.

Dean grinned from ear to ear. “I am so glad you asked.” He grabbed one of the case files that the corner had given you, and opened it, revealing the photographs from the autopsy. “Our coroner friend did miss something. See this right here?” Dean pointed to one of the autopsy photos, which was a close up picture of one of the medical students hairlines by their neck.

“That mark right there?” You asked, pointing to a small circular mark that looked extremely similar to a mole.

“Yep. That’s not a mole like the coroner thought. It’s actually a puncture wound. What Falko did fifty years ago, was he punctured the base of the students skulls close enough to their hair line so it looked like a mole and essentially, went unnoticed,” Dean explained. “Until now anyway,” he winked.

“And because he was their supervisor, that’s why there was no forced entry,” you stated, and Dean nodded. “What about the lack of struggle?”

“All three students offered to make Falko coffee, and when the students weren’t looking, Falko would drug them. So, when the students drank the drugged coffee, they would fall asleep, and that’s when he could do his handiwork,” he explained, and his explanation made your blood run cold. Not only did Falko kill three people, he did it in a cowardly way.

“It would make sense for Falko to be our guy. Do you think, and it’s a stretch here I know that, the reason that there are no drugs in any of the students systems is because he can just knock them out from being a ghost?” You knew how crazy your theory was, but in this line of work, sometimes the craziest of theories were the most logical of ones.

Dean shrugged. “Could be possible. But at the same time, even in death, serial killers don’t really change their M.O. And I can’t believe I just said that out loud.”

You chuckled at his comment. “I’m sure it’s not the craziest thing you’ve ever said,” you slightly smirked.

Dean smirked back. “Actually —” but before he could indulge in your comment, you cut him off.

“Please tell me the medical instruments are still at the college, because I’m assuming we can’t just salt and burn this guy,” you said. Both Dean and you have been on plenty of ghost cases, and rarely was it that easy to just salt and burn the remains — there was almost always something else involved.

“You would be correct because our buddy here was cremated,” Dean replied.

“Of course he is,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes. “Alright. Well. Since we have a few hours to kill before dark, I say we take a little nap and fuel up before we steal some historical medical equipment from a prominent university.”

Dean smiled, chuckling to himself. “Couldn’t have said it any better myself.”

The rest of the morning and afternoon with Dean couldn’t have gone any quicker. It felt like the time flew by, and it was time that you desperately wanted to re-live again; which is funny because it was relatively uneventful. The two of you did what you had suggested: take a nap, refuel, and watched some tv. But during those hours with him, you felt safe and comfortable. You felt truly safe with Dean despite barely knowing him a couple of days. He was still relatively a stranger to you and yet, you’d trust him with your life if it ever came down to it.

When it came to your nap, you were the first one to wake, which you were strangely grateful for as you were able to admire the way Dean slept. He looked so peaceful, like he didn’t have a care in the world. You wanted desperately to reach out and touch him, to feel his stubble underneath your fingertips. But you had to resist the urge even though it was getting stronger with each passing second.

When nighttime had finally come, it was time to head to the medical museum at the university, and hopefully put a stop to this once and for all. But based on the information that the two of you had gathered though, you figured that Falko was done with his little murder spree, but you needed to make sure that he would never be able to harm anyone ever again. Three now, and six in total was far too many innocent lives lost.

As you and Dean drove to the university, there remained that comfortable silence that seemed to often appear between the two of you; the only sound to be heard in the truck was The Clash, but the volume was scarily low for you, as you tended to blast your music — not caring who heard. But in this moment, you felt it wasn’t necessary.

Despite the silence that you were enjoying between the two of you, you were the one that broke it. “Before, you asked me how I got into hunting so young,” you began, still keeping your eyes on the road.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Dean reassured you. “It’s not a big deal if I don’t know.”

“I want to. I trust you,” and you meant it when you said that, as trust was something you rarely gave to people since you became a hunter. You removed your hand from the wheel briefly, and touched the dog tags that were hanging in your review mirror. “See these?” You asked, and removed your hand, putting it back on the wheel again. Dean nodded. “He’s the reason I got into hunting.”

Dean looked at you, inches away from touching the precious dog tags you had refused to burn after all this time. “May I?” He asked, and you nodded. He removed the dog tags gently from the rear view and you felt your heart pounding quickly. You never let anyone touch them, and yet, you were letting Dean. “Joseph A. Baxter,” Dean read.

“Joey,” you corrected, partially smiling as you said his name. “He was my best friend and my neighbor. We were…inseparable, attached to the hip. Our parents always wondered when the two of us would start dating but, we…” you sighed deeply. “Never got the chance to.” You hadn’t talked about Joey in such a long time, and it felt almost therapeutic in a way to talk about him, but at the same time, he was someone you rarely talked about because sometimes it was too painful for you to bring up the memories of him, despite the amount of fondness and love you had for him.

You felt tears coming on, and you quickly did your best to bat them away with your eyelashes, but some still managed to escape to your cheeks. “He enlisted, and he left. Said he’d be back in no time,” you took a deep breath again. This was harder than you expected it to be. You wanted to continue, to tell Dean about him, as you felt safe enough to tell him, something you rarely felt with people since Joey died. As you were almost about to give up, you felt Dean place his hand on your thigh. Not in a romantic way, but in a comforting way. But the gesture didn’t last long, as he quickly pulled it away. But that small gesture gave you enough strength to continue.

“When he came back he was…he was dead. We got the news when an army vehicle pulled up in front of his parents house with one of those folded flags with his dog tags on top,” you paused again, but Dean remained silent. “His funeral was a week later. I was just so…angry at him. He promised…he promised he’d come back.” You didn’t fight back any of the tears now, as they were running down your cheeks. You knew you were in no condition to drive now, so you pulled over to the side of the road.

As soon as you did, you couldn’t control yourself anymore. Your body was on autopilot. You turned to Dean and wrapped your arms around him, and without hesitation it seemed, he wrapped his arms around you. He gently rubbed your back the best he could at the angle you were at, and he started humming, as if he was trying to help you calm down. “It’s okay,” he whispered on repeat to you.

⤑ Move Forward & Read Chapter 6

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[croucify]

✶ STARGIRL — hamzahthefantastic x reader

005 ✶ Falling For You

stargirl masterfile – next – previous

SUMMARY: hamzah has a crush on a youtuber who's always out and about and slushies see their relationship progress on social media! (smau)

DISCLAIMER: reader is a brown haired girl and for some pics that aren't faceless, i'll be using olivia rodrigo cause i love her and she’s filipino like me hehehe

hamzahthefantastic posted on their story !

vanna @slushyfan

hamzah in his new ig story… im tweaking

11 replies 25 retweets 59 likes

user673 he looks so good can y/n fight

user091 omg where is he going why’s he in a suit

↳ user524 oh mygooood do u think he’s going to the oscar’s with y/n

↳ user810 WAIT THEY DID MENTION THE OSCARS LAST VIDEO RIGHT

liked by rhode, wildflowercases, and others

ynln thank you so much @oscars for inviting me, best night everrr!!!

view comments

user570 YOURE SO BEAUTIFULLLL

user021 last pic is so real

user693 will there be a vlog for this omg

↳ ynln YES!!! i recorded my whole trip going to la and the oscars ++ many more :)))

user455 im so happy foruuuuu

ynlnupdates Such a beauty! ( liked by ynln )

thatmartinkid nice post can hamzah come home already

↳ ynln nooo let me have him for a few days plspls

↳ user017 WHATTTTTTT

↳ user526 OMFG SHES WITH HAMZAH

oscars + la vlog

66k views • 4 hrs ago

uploaded by ynln

the video started with you zooming into hamzah's back. he wasn't aware of your recording until he turned to face you.

"oh you're recording now," he lets out a chuckle, eyes looking up at you and not on the camera.

the next clip shows you and hamzah in the airplane, he was wearing his sony headphones while you had your wired earphones on. your head was on his shoulder and you had a hand wrapped around his bicep.

you smile at the camera then glance at him before squeezing his arm gently for him to look at the camera. he looks down at you and you were smiling at the camera, he smiles at you instead of the camera.

you proceeded to talk to the camera while hamzah listened to his music, your head still on his shoulder which he didn't mind.

during the flight, you ended up falling asleep on hamzah. he put the armrest up and slowly removed your hand from his bicep, letting you rest on his shoulder with his arm around you. he turned your camera on and showed you sleeping before he started making goofy faces at the camera.

the next clips were montages. it shows you and hamzah walking around lax then in the taxi you show the road before turning the camera to hamzah who was asleep.

“okay, so today, we’re going to the oscars!” you exclaimed.

you were already dressed up, seated in the car. hamzah was beside you but wasn’t completely seen in frame. “what movie do you think will win?” you showed hamzah and he was fiddling his fingers.

“i hope barbie wins,” he chuckles, looking between you and the camera.

as the night and recording went on, hamzah couldn’t remove his eyes off you. he was grateful he was the one filming you when you were posing for the carpet, it was even worse when they reached out for you to do the glambot. he was in awe. it was like seeing you in your element and he was able to capture it on camera for your vlog.

when you two entered the hall, you were now holding the camera and both your mouths formed into an o as you looked around the venue. you flip the camera while you continue talking about the celebrities you’ve just seen.

“oh my fucking god, we were able to talk to ariana greenblatt from barbie.” you said excitedly, almost tripping on the steps, hamzah immediately caught you, his hand wrapped around your waist.

you mutter a soft thank you before returning to the camera.

“she told us that she loves to watch us, said she loved my vlogs so much,” as you said this, the clip of you and ariana pops up on the screen. “and she also said the slushy virus got to her.” you giggle as you look up at hamzah, who was looking around for the seats assigned.

off camera—your hand was wrapped on hamzah’s arm almost the whole night, trying to get warm as it was a bit chilly inside the hall.

you start recording but your hands were shaking from how cold it is. hamzah takes both your hands in his and rubs them together, trying to make you warm but when you were still shivering, he takes off his blazer and wraps it around your shoulders.

“that better?” your faces were so close to each other, you could feel his breath fanning over your face.

you feel heat rising to your cheeks as you nod, looking away from him and returning your focus on the awarding—completely forgetting about how your camera was recording everything.

at the end of the video, you were still wearing hamzah’s blazer.

“that was sooo cool, i hope you guys enjoyed this video. some of the clips were filmed by the fantastic hamzah,” you said as you wiggled your eyebrows at the camera.

“i love you guys, see you next video!” you blow a kiss to the camera then it ends.

✶ taglist — @cdbabymp3 @noturbabe22 @dabuggh3 @kingvioleta @tumb1rgir1z @mfcherry @ldrvinyl LMK IF U WANNA BE ADDEDDD!!!

[infiniteeight8]

I don't know if you watch White flage from

Dido MV or no, please if you didn't watch it and write an ironstrange but make it crack !

Thanks !

I had not previously seen the music video, although the song was familiar once it started playing.

I, uh, didn’t stick very close to the song. At all. Pretty much pulled one line and ran with it. You said make it crack, so this is what you get. LOL.

-

“Are you aware that some of your fans are writing fan fiction about you?” the interviewer asked, half smiling like she thought she was about to get some juicy reactions. And she was. Just not the ones she was expecting.

Steve, Sam, and Carol groaned loudly while Bucky and Stephen just shook their heads. Natasha shot Steve an unsympathetic look. “You had to know this would happen eventually.”

“Is it wrong to hope?” Steve said.

Tony, meanwhile, cackled like a madman. “Why, yes, I am,” he replied gleefully. “And while the quality of much of it is impressive, and I’m very gratified by the authors’ evaluation of my sexual prowess—” he winked at the camera, “spot on, good job, keep at it—I have a bone to pick with shippers.”

“The–”

Tony cut the interviewer off mercilessly. “Steve Rogers?” he demanded. “My most popular pairing is with Steve?” He turned briefly toward Steve. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Steve said tiredly. 

Tony turned back to the interviewer. “Completely aside from the fact that we’re not remotely compatible,” Tony went on, “his most popular pairing is with Bucky. Which is great! They actually work together. But more importantly, I am not second place!”

The interviewer’s mouth opened and closed for a stunned moment. “Then who–”

“I am so glad you asked,” Tony said, rubbing his hands together and grinning. “It’s got a canonical enemies to lovers arc–”

“‘Enemies’ is a little strong,” Stephen said, amused. 

“–it’s got opposites attracting,” Tony went on, “it’s got style, and, most important of all, it’s got excellent facial hair.” Tony waved his hands towards Stephen like Vanna White unveiling a prize.

“To be fair to the authors,” the interviewer rallied, “you and Doctor Strange really haven’t interacted much in the public eye.”

“Why do you think I agreed to this press tour?”

“That’s why you agreed?” Natasha burst out.

Sam covers his face with one hand. “This explains so much.”

“You don’t think that’s going a little too far?” Carol asked, amused.

Tony raised one finger. “I will go down with this ship!”

Stephen patted him on the knee. “And I appreciate that.”

“You realize that’s just going to encourage him, right?” Bucky said.

Stephen smirked.

[reigningqueenofwords]

Paintings

Pairing: Castiel x Winchester!Reader Word count: 1,953

Read on AO3

Sitting in the room that your brothers had set up for you, you tilted your head as you looked over the canvas in front of you. You were surrounded by some finished pieces, pieces you’d started and were waiting for new inspiration for, and then some pieces you hated and just never threw away. You were wearing a pair of old jeans and a tank top, not caring about the amount of paint that currently covered you. 

There was a knock on the door before it opened. When you looked over your shoulder, you were met with Dean’s face. “Sis, we kill things for a living, so please tell me why you paint like this?” He motioned around as he stepped it. 

“Like what?” You raised an eyebrow at him, looking innocent. 

He played Vanna White at your current piece. “Like you just ripped a guy’s heart out and decided to paint with it?!” He said simply. “It’s weird.” He shuddered. “It’s like the murder room in here.” He explained. 

You blinked. “Huh.” You shrugged. “I never thought of it that way.” You admitted. “Maybe it’s my way of working through things we see? You drink and jack off to Busty Asian Beauties. Sam nerds out. I paint.” That was your best theory. “And spend time with Cas when he can.” You pouted. He’d been somewhat busy lately, leaving you little time with your boyfriend. 

“Hopefully he can take you out soon. Get you away from this.” He motioned to your work again. “Can’t you paint something with life?” He asked. 

“I could try, but it probably wouldn’t be any good.” You told him. 

He rolled his eyes. “You’ve got talent, so stop trying to pretend you don’t. Anyways, dinner is done.” He moved towards the door. “Can you take a break from blood and guts to eat with your older brothers?” He teased you. 

“Give me five minutes to put the covers on my pallets and clean my brushes.” You smiled. “And get me a beer?” You asked him, going to work on cleaning up. “And not one of those alcohol free ones you’re hell bent on me drinking.” 

“You’re my baby sister, so sue me.” 

Stopping what you were doing, you stared at him. “Dean. I turned thirty two months ago .” You laughed. “I’m not a baby!” 

“Shuddup.” He muttered before leaving you alone. 

“Wash your hands.” Sam told you as he set things out on the table. “I know your hands are covered in paint.” 

You chuckled. “Jokes on you. My hands are clean, Sammy.” You showed him when he looked up at you. “Had to clean my brushes.” You explained. “Need any help?” You offered. 

He smiled. “Nope. We’re good.” He sat down as Dean brought over three beers. “I actually cooked dinner. No takeout tonight.” He said proudly. 

“Oh, impressive. And I was so getting used to the bad Chinese and Taco Bell.” You teased, getting yourself comfortable. “And thank you for the real beer.” You told Dean, lifting it to your lips. 

Cas appeared a moment later. “Oh, you’ve already begun dinner.” He sighed. “I was hoping to take Y/N for a date.��� He explained. “Perhaps another night.” He noted, sitting down. 

Dean nudged you. “Go on.” He told you. “Or he’s going to pout like a puppy who lost his bone.” He teased his best friend. It had been weird as hell when you first started dating him, but over time...he was okay with it. “Besides, that ‘another night’ might not happen for weeks for all we know.” He pointed out. 

“You sure?” You looked between the boys. “You cooked.” You reminded Sam. 

He smiled, nodding. “I can easily put the leftovers in the freezer.” He assured you. “Go.” 

You got up, moving to hug each of your brothers. “You’re the best. Love you. I promise I’ll work on that ‘life’ painting tomorrow, Dean!” You kissed his cheek, making him chuckle and shake his head. You got to Cas and held out your hand. “All yours!” 

Cas’s face lit up as he stood. “I am looking forward to our date. I’ve missed you.” He said sweetly before he kissed you. 

Dean made a face. “Dude.” He said jokingly. 

“Going!” You laughed, tugging Cas out of the room. “Let me change and then we can go. Did you have someplace in mind?” You asked as you neared your room. “So I know how to dress.” 

“You are fine in what you are wearing.” He chuckled. “Although, I would suggest shoes.” He pointed out. “I find I enjoy when you are covered in paint. Means you had a good day in your ‘studio’, which I know makes you happy.” His blue eyes traveled over your body as he spoke. 

You blushed and looked at him. “Can I show you my latest work?” You asked shyly, wanting to see if he thought the same thing as Dean. 

He beamed. “Of course.” He nodded, letting you tug him in the direction of your little studio. “I always enjoy seeing it.” He had simply watched you work for hours on end before, observing you. It was beautiful. 

Opening the door, you let him in and shut it behind him. “Dean doesn’t get my work.” You told him. “Says it looks like I took a guy’s heart and painted with it or something.” You traced your fingers gently over the outside of your new canvas. “Asked me to paint something with ‘life’.” You sighed. 

“What is more full of life than blood?” Cas asked. When you looked at him, eyebrow raised, he smiled at you. “Blood truly is life.” He pointed out. “Without it, humans would die, animals would parish.” 

You nodded at that. “That is a very good point.” You agreed. “Dean calls it the murder room.” You shrugged. “I dunno, just wanted your opinion. I never noticed it until he said that. I like my work. It speaks to me. Except for those.” You pointed to the corner. “Those are my disowned works.” 

He chuckled lightly. “Why do you keep them?” He asked, curious. 

“Inspiration to do better?” You guessed, chewing on your lip as you looked around. Slowly, you smiled at him. “I have an idea…” You moved to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “And I need the help of a certain angel.” You flirted. 

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. “And how may I help you?” He asked, voice low. 

Pecking his lips, you grinned. “Strip.” You patted his chest. 

“Strip? As in, remove my clothing?” He asked, wanting to clarify things.You nodded as you slowly pulled away, taking off your tank top. 

Both of you stripped, eyes never leaving each other as you did so. “Now, pick some paint.” You pointed to where there was a bunch of new bottles. “No more than say six. Don’t want it to get muddy.” You moved things out of the way as he looked over his options, wanting them to be perfect. Once there was enough room, you set up as many canvases as you could fit in the area. 

“Are these okay?” He asked, turning with two bottles in each hand- teal, dark blue, emerald green, and a color that reminded you of his eyes. 

“Perfect.” You nodded, excited. “Give me two.” You reached out, getting dark blue and emerald green. “Now shoot streaks all over the place. On these canvases.” You told him. 

“And this will create ‘life art’?” He asked as he opened his two bottles. 

You did the same. “It’s the start.” You explained. “Move around to get some all over.” You told him, not staying put. Once you felt there was enough, you stopped. “That’s good. Can you put these over there?” You handed him your bottles and motioned to the ones that were opened. 

Castiel nodded, taking them. “Of course.” He agreed. “Now...what?” He was curious as you walked across the canvases towards him. 

“Now, you’re going to lay me down on these and we’re going to enjoy each other.” You ran your hand over his chest. “We’re going to make a painting with our bodies.” Kissing him softly, you smiled. 

His hands gripped your hips. “I will not object to that.” He told you, kissing you lovingly as the pair of you moved to lay down. 

Dean was walking by your room when he heard you laughing and paused. He furrowed his brows, moving towards it. “Sis?” He called out before opening the door. “Oh, come on .” He instantly left. 

Walking into the kitchen, your hair was wet and you were wearing your bathrobe. Cas wasn’t that far behind, a smile on his face. He was dressed in his own clothes, but his hair was also wet. “Please erase that image from my mind.” Dean down the last of his beer. 

“Hey, you asked me to create a life painting.” You smirked. 

“I didn’t say ‘make babies in paint’!” He countered, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I want to forget that sight.” He groaned. 

Cas furrowed his brows. “We were not ‘making babies’.” He told Dean. “I have no wish to lose her to childbirth.” 

You giggled as Dean put his head on the table. “I think you’re breaking him.” You told your boyfriend. “Let’s just get my ice cream and go watch a movie.” You said as you got a bowl. “I’m sure it’ll pass, Dean.” You told your older brother. “You’ll be okay.” 

He shook his head, not moving it from the table. “I regret telling you to make ‘life paintings’. Please, stick to your murder work.” He turned his head to look at you. 

“I might. Depends on if these sell.” You shrugged. 

That made him sit up. “Sell?” He asked, curiosity piqued. “What are you talking about? You’ve never mentioned selling your work before.” 

You nodded, finishing getting your ice cream and putting it away. “It was Cas’s idea. Said that my talent should be shared, and it might be a good way for us to make some spare cash.” You turned to lean against the counter, bowl in hand. “So, I’m going to ask Sam to help me figure out how to sell some stuff online.” You explained. 

Dean smiled at that. “See, told you that you have talent.” He said proudly. “You got a ton of work in there you can sell.” 

“Except I requested she keep one of our pieces.” Cas noted. 

“Please never mention your ‘pieces’ again.” Dean said over his shoulder. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find something to take my mind off...that.” He moved to the fridge to grab another beer before leaving the two of them alone. 

Running through the bunker when you heard Dean get home from a supply run. “Dean!” You were nearly jumping with excitement. “Guess what?!” You squealed. 

“What?” He laughed, loving seeing you like this. 

“Everything. Sold.” You told him. “In just the time that you were gone.” You gushed. “Cas and Sam and helping me get everything wrapped up. The buyer is in the city.” You explained. “All. One. Buyer.” 

His eyebrows went up. “One?!” He grinned. “That’s amazing. You sure it’s legit?” He didn’t want you getting screwed over. 

You nodded. “He’s sent half the money already.” You told him. “We meet him about dinner time. And, then after, I’d like to take my big brothers out to celebrate.” 

“What about Cas?” He asked. 

“We’re going away for a few days, leaving Friday.” You told him happily. “Going to Greece. Saving on airfare, thankfully.” 

Dean hugged you, happy for you. “You’ll be in a museum one day.” He beamed.

[phantomarine]

Not an ask, but, in the really terrifying way, Cheline's smile at the start of Monday's page really has something so... strange and morbid in the way the smile is really big that it brings back that- THIS isn't her *actual body*! That's the *CORPSE* of Halea! That Cheline probably manipulated and killed! It really brings the vibe of "This was the body of someone, that was ALIVE once, that is now being used by a being DEFINITELY not human. Its really uncanny when you start to give a thought... when you look back at past pages and watches the way Cheline impersonates Halea's whole live and does it with a *smile* in her face... It's a really amazing element of the comic but also really evil in concept which is also amazing to the characters to react and understand!

Also please tell Vanna to stop...THE BIRD IS GETTING ANGRY! :(

I remember getting a comment about the panel in the beginning of Ch 6 where she turns back to Euphemia and goes 'VILE'

it was basically a skill issue 'eyes don't turn that way' comment

...yeah... yeah they don't 🤓

[waitingandwishing]

(Cross posted on Wattpad and AO3)

~And I pray that it won't happen again, but then again, I hope it does~

Prev - Next Chapter

Miguel's physical therapist threw his stuff into the trunk of his car. " Good job today, jefe. You crushed it. " He held out his fist to Miguel who gave him a fist bump. 

"R eally? It didn't feel like I did much of anything. " He said, looking up at the man from his wheelchair. 

"H ey, no negative thoughts. Just positive energy. " 

Miguel looked up at him. " I'll keep that in mind. " The therapist smiled and got into his car, driving off. 

Miguel turned his wheelchair around as he started to head home. A Playboy magazine was lowered in front of him on a fishing pole. He looked up; Johnny stood on the second floor. " What's this? " He asked in a confused tone. 

"This is a collection of the tastiest babes of 1988 and you're not going to be able to see them unless you grab it," Johnny told him.

Miguel looked more confused now. " Okay... " He reached up when Johnny pulled it higher.

" Gonna have to try harder than that. " 

"Y ou know I can just find these pictures on my phone right ? " Miguel looked up at him. 

" I t's not true same. Chicks are hotter on the page. " Johnny leaned over the rail some. Miguel shook his head. " But you won't know that unless you get off your butt or you can just keep getting foot runs from that pansy-ass therapist ."

Miguel chuckled as he reached again but missed it.

" Weak! That's all you got, Diaz? I thought you were the All-Valley champ. " Johnny taunted. Miguel pushed himself up, reaching but fell on the hard cement. " Damn it. " Johnny cursed under his breath as he hurried down. Miguel groaned as he sat up. 

"Y ou alright? " Johnny asked as he got down there. 

"Y eah. " Miguel nods. Johnny picked him up around the chest and got him into the wheelchair. 

"I got you bud. Here we go. Just give me a minute and we'll go again. I think I still have my Vanna White Playboy, that will get you going."

"Don't you get it? You could dangle a new Playstation, I still wouldn't be able to stand up." Miguel said upset as he wheeled away. Johnny looked after him, a sad look on his face.

“H ey. ” Trixie waved at Miguel as she left the house. Johnny watched as Miguel’s face lit up and the two of them laughed and chatted away. The former sensei smirked to himself , nodding as an idea formed in his head.

_____________________________________________________

Hawk, Mitch, and a few other Cobra Kai students were at the arcade. Hawk hit a ball out of a kid's hand before they ran away laughing, seeming like little kids again, a time before all this happened. 

"H ey, buddy! " Hawk smiled at Chris, who was working at Golf ‘ n Stuff, as he put the tickets on the counter. 

" H ey prize wench. " Mitch greeted his old best friend.

" What do you guys want? " Chris asked, a bit annoyed. 

"W ell, to spend our hard-earned tickets, of course, " Hawk said with sarcasm lacing his words. " Why don't you be a good girl and grab us one of those bobbleheads? " 

Chris rolled his eyes and went to get it. Once he was on the step stool, Hawk jumped the counter grabbing prizes and throwing them to the others. " Stop! " Chris yelled as they laughed.

" Thanks, Chris. Tell your mom I miss her! " Mitch yelled as they ran. 

"Y eah, tell her to stop calling me, " Hawk added, laughing as they left. Chris grumbled as he texted the rest of Miyagi-Do.

Trixie then came up to the counter from out of nowhere. She had come to watch Camille since she had a play date but her friend and her friend's mom were teaching them how to play mini golf. “ Hey, how much did that cost? ” Trixie asked.

“W hy don’t you just bother someone else. ” Chris rolled his eyes. Trixie dug into her pocket and held out a twenty-dollar bill. Chris hesitated and Trixie rolled her eyes.

“No, it’s not a prank and it’s not pity money. Just take it.” Trixie placed the twenty-dollar bill on the counter. Chris, slightly dumbfounded, watched as she walked away.

“ Trixie!! ” Camille came barreling towards her. Trixie laughed as she spun her sister around. Camille giggled before being set down. “ Can we get ice cream? Marilyn and her mom are waiting outside for us !”

Trixie chuckled, “ Alright, I guess Trick wouldn’t mind if we get ice cream. ” She smiled, holding onto her little sister's hand as they walked to get ice cream together.

Camille ordered her ice cream as well as her friends and her friend's mom. Trixie got bubblegum of course and they both went to Camille’s friends. “ Hey, Camille! Wait up! ” Trixie called as her sister ran to see her friend again. “ Camille !”

Great. She’d officially lost her . Trixie sighed, wandering around before entering an abandoned laser tag stadium. She looked around, hearing groans of pain and crying. Trixie walked further into the room before seeing Demetri on the floor. She gasped as she saw him grasping onto his arm in cries of pain. Trixie sucked in a breath before kneeling next to him.

“G et away from me! ” Demetri screamed, writhing away from Trixie in agony. 

“Hey! Stop moving! It’s gonna hurt if you keep wiggling like a worm.” Trixie yelled, helping Demetri up from the ground and propping him against one of the laser tag props. “Don’t straighten it out, it’ll only hurt more.” She said in a quieter tone.

She quickly dialed 911 on her phone, “Hi, 911? Um… My friend has a broken arm. Yes, uh, Golf ‘N Stuff. Yes… Alright.” She nodded before placing her hand on Demetri’s non-broken one. “Does it still hurt?” She asked and Demetri grunted in response.

A sob broke through as Trixie turned her head to see Sam backed into a corner, crying. Trixie walked up to Sam, who looked at her in fear and tried to back away even more. It broke Trixie’s heart to see her once best friend so scared of her. She knelt in front of her.

“Hey, hey, hey. I’m not here to hurt you, I’m just here to help.” She said her voice in a whisper. “Everything’s gonna be okay. Hold my hand.” Trixie held out her hand.

Sam took her hand, clutching it tightly. “Focus on me. Breathe in, breathe out.” Trixie exhaled and inhaled slowly. Sam followed her breathing pattern with shaky sobs and tears. “You’re gonna be okay. I called 911… Demetri’s arm will be broken but he’ll live.”

Sam nodded and Trixie hesitantly wrapped her arms around her former friend. The brown-haired girl embraced the hug and leaned in closer with a sniffle. 

_____________________________________________________

The bell chimed, signaling that someone had entered the building. A few new students walked in, one being Kyler. Hawk looked over, his face falling. Kreese walked out of the back office.

“H ey, you good? ” Trixie asked and Hawk swallowed before nodding.

“Y eah, I’m fine, ” Hawk muttered.

" Class. Welcome our new students . " He said as he walked over.  Mitch walked over to them.  

" I 'm going to call you Chodenose and Taintbreath. " He said. 

"W hat the hell did you just say? " Kyler said, stepping forward and using his intimidation to scare Mitch. 

Hawk walked over to Kreese. " Sensei, I don't think these guys are Cobra Kai material. " He said. 

Kreese turned to look at him. " Weren't you the one saying that we should get recruits ?"

"Well, yeah. It's just that I know a few of these guys and they're-" Hawk was cut off by Kreese.

"Natural athletes. Something similar to Trixie, yes? It’s exactly what's been missing in our dojo." He said with narrowed eyes. Hawk glanced down briefly. 

"E veryone fall in, " Kreese called looking over Hawk's shoulder before looking back at him. Hawk gave a small bowl before he joined the others.

" Joining Cobra Kai is a privilege, not a gift. Which is why our recruits must earn their positions in this dojo. " Hawk glanced back at Kyler. Once he looked away Kyler smiled. " Prepare for battle. Only the strong will survive. " Kreese said. " Students prepare for combat, " Kreese called.

They all moved to where they formed a circle. " Peter snake! Legit! " Brucks said as he walked past the cage. Hawk glanced over at Kyler , he seemed less confident now. 

“H ey, don’t let him get to you. ” Trixie nudged Hawk, “ Don’t be a pussy. Especially after what happened at Golf ‘ N Stuff. ” She said with disdain. Hawk sucked a breath, feeling guilty after what happened with Demetri.

Kyler and Brucks were walking past Hawk when Kyler stopped. " Holy shit! Look, remember that kid with the lip? Yo, I thought he moved. " Kyler said mockingly. 

"O h, shit. You're right! Right. " Brucks said like the idiotic sidekick that he was. " The hair kinda distracts you from it. " The two were laughing. 

Hawk slowly reached up to hide his lip, his head ducking down some. Trixie stepped in front of him and crossed her arms. “ Shut it, Brucks .”

“ Woah. Hey…” Kyler slid past his friend in front of Trixie, walking a bit too close. “ Trixie, right? The hair’s nice… ” He reached out to touch her hair before Trixie grabbed his wrist and twisted it sharply.

“Respectfully, don’t touch me,” Trixie said. Kyler wincing as she lets go. “If you can’t even handle that, how’re you gonna handle Cobra Kai?” 

"A ll right, class. Let the games begin. " Kreese walked into the middle, looking around. " You? " He gestured to Kyler, motioning him into the ring. 

"A ll right, bro. You got this. " Brucks said as Kyler followed. Kreese laughed some as he gestured to Mitch. 

"Y ou, " Mitch smirked as he walked into the middle towards Kyler. Kreese backed up, out of the way.

" Ready? " Kreese said , Mitch gave a bow as Kyler got into a crouching position. " Fight. " Mitch instantly kicked Kyler in the nose, earning a point. 

"N ow you're dead, " Kyler said as he moved back into position. Kyler dodges every punch, soon tackling him to the ground and getting him into a headlock. 

Holding tightly until Mitch had to tap out. Kyler got up. "Now finish him," Kreese said. Kyler pulled Mitch up some by his gi, punching him in the nose. He walked back for Brucks. 

"Y o, lights out, baby, " Kyler said as their chest bumped. Mitch got up and started to move back to his spot. 

"W here are you going? " Kreese asked him, stopping Mitch in his tracks.

“T o my spot. " He gestured.  

"Y ou lost to an untrained fighter. He's going to take your spot on the team. " 

Mitch looked over at Kyler who had a pleased smile on his face. "All right." Brucks cheered for his friend. 

Hawk stepped forward, " Sensei, assface has been loyal to this dojo. " He said, using the nickname they had given Mitch when he first arrived. 

" I 'm afraid he's not… Cobra Kai martial. " Kreese said, looking at the boy. " I told you only the strong would survive. " 

Tory was fighting one of the new girls, the two moving with speed arrived with great agility but naturally Tory was the victor of that round. Tory kicked her in the face to finish her. 

The girl looked up. " You chipped my tooth bitch. " She hissed. 

Tory shrugged. " You needed braces anyway. " 

Trixie stifled a snicker as the girl got angrily to her feet, a bit taller than Tory. " Good job. Nichols. " Kreese said before turning to the other girl. " You know the drill, off the mat. " 

She backed away, glaring at Tory. " Damn girl, did you see that? " Brucks said in a low voice as Tory went back to place.

" You, big boy, " Kreese said, calling him over. 

Brucks started to walk up. " Oh yeah! All right, who's going down next? " He said laughing a bit as he walked into the middle. " Come on !"

" Let's go, " Kyler said. 

Hawk roughly shoved the flag into the hands of the person by him. His eyes narrowed into a glare. Trixie smirked, crossing her arms and resting her weight on her hip. " He's mine! " He said in a growling voice. 

"G et him, Lip, " Kyler yelled and Trixie feigned a punch as Hawk walked up to him, Brucks bowing up. 

" O h alright. Let's see if I can fix that lip of yours then. " He turned, watching as Hawk walked past him. Hawk took off his gi top, showing his tattoo. Brucks looked shocked, a deadly smirk on Hawk's face as he turned back. 

"D ude.. " Brucks muttered seeing the grim reaper tattoo on Hawk's chest. Kreese gave his hand gently to the boy with the flags who then lowered them. Hawk got into a fighting position, glancing at Kreese who just gave him a nod. 

Hawk moved forward quickly, kicking him in the side of the face. He was resilient, constantly moving. Punching, kicking, and elbowing the bigger guy. He was showing no mercy. 

Hawk moved like it was nothing, just pulling Brucks along. Blood was oozing from Brucks's mouth, panting. " Wait, stop. " He said in staggered breaths. 

Hawk grabbed him, flipping him onto the ground in one graceful movement. Kreese watched, showing no emotion. " Finish him. " He said simply . Trixie widened her eyes as Hawk started to punch Brucks in the face over and over . She turned away in shock. Kreese watched Hawk punch the boy, lips curling into a faint smile. Hawk stood up, spitting on Brucks who was sobbing , before walking away. “ Somebody pick him up, ” Kreese said. Trixie clenched her hands as she saw the blood, a faint memory bubbling to the surface.

Warm blood had leaked onto the wooden floor , it was wet and stuck to the floor. She immediately knew it would be hard to scrub it off the knife. Salty tears mixed into the blood as she dropped to the floor.

“W ould Miss Wong like to go next? ” Kreese called out, interrupting Trixie’s train of thought, and snapped her head up.

She nodded, walking onto the mat with another guy. They exchanged deadly glares as the fight then started. “ I don’t wanna have to hit a girl. ” The guy said. Trixie was already running up to the guy and kicking him in the stomach.

“A w, that’s too bad. Wanna be best friends? ” She mocked as she punched him in the sternum . The guy gasped, falling to the floor trying to regain his breath. “ Huh, guess not. ” She shrugged, walking back into the circle. Tory gave her a high five and the guy glared at her before stumbling off and out of the dojo.

[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos (Book 3) Chapter Eighteen

TOS! Spock x Empath! Reader

Chapter Eighteen: Quarreling Clouds

Summary: Spock, Kirk, and (Y/N) make sure Stratos and the surface of Ardana finally face each other.

            Spock sat in the Captain’s chair, and (Y/N) hovered beside him as they waited for Kirk to report in. He still hadn’t informed them of his progress, and Spock and (Y/N) were growing concerned with how long he was taking. After all, if Kirk was caught by the High Advisor, Plasus could sentence him to death if he wished. Freeing Vanna and trying to gain her trust risked everything. The worst part was that they couldn’t do anything without risking his health, too, so the Enterprise was left orbiting Ardana in radio silence.

            “Kirk to Enterprise.” (Y/N) straightened as Kirk’s voice came across the communicator. “Enterprise, come in. Kirk to Enterprise.”

            “Spock and (L/N) here,” said Spock. “We’ve been trying to make contact, Captain.”

            “Is anything wrong?” asked (Y/N).

            “Nothing,” said Kirk. “Are you locked in on me?”

            “Locked in and ready to beam up consignment,” said Spock.

            “Circumstances dictate a slight variation,” said Kirk.

            “Captain, why do I suspect you’re about to ask to engage in what Bones would call ‘stupid shenanigans?’ ” asked (Y/N).

            “You’re very perceptive, Lieutenant,” said Kirk brightly.

            “Standing by for instructions,” said Spock.

            “Hold on these coordinates,” said Kirk. “Locate the High Advisor and beam him to these coordinates immediately without advance communication. Repeat: without advance communication. Have you got that?”

            “Instructions clear,” said Spock. “I shall carry them out immediately. Spock out.” He switched off the radio and looked at (Y/N). “It seems you were correct.”

            “Our Captain is a creature of habit. He’s not going to rest until the Troglytes get a better future,” said (Y/N). They smiled. “But it’s one of the reasons we like him, so it’s alright.”

            Spock nodded. “I shall call Mr. Scott in.” He pressed the communications button. “Commander Spock to Engineering.”

            “Engineering here, Mr. Spock,” said Scotty.

            “Mr. Scott, your presence is requested on the bridge,” said Spock.

            “He’s going to get a kick out of this,” said (Y/N) as they waited for Scotty to arrive.

            “Well, Spock, what can I help ya with?” asked Scotty when he walked out of the elevator.

            “The Captain has ordered us to beam the High Advisor down to his coordinates within the caverns,” said Spock matter-of-factly.

            Scotty stared and looked at (Y/N), who shrugged and added, “Without warning.”

            “Beam the High Advisor down without warning, did he say?” repeated Scotty.

            “That does express the general request,” said Spock.

            Scotty grinned. “I’d like to see the Advisor’s face.”

            “You’ll have that opportunity,” said Spock.

            “The Captain said to do it immediately,” said (Y/N).

            “We suggest you handle the transporter yourself,” said Spock. “This could be very delicate as a problem in transporting for us and in diplomacy for the Captain.”

            “Aye,” said Scotty, nodding and heading for the Transporter Room.

            Once he was there, he radioed back. “Transporter Room to Mr. Spock.”

            “Spock here,” responded the Vulcan, standing and crossing to his sensors to check on the situation below.

            “I’ve locked onto the coordinates of the Cloud City Council gallery,” said Scotty. “Ready to transport the High Advisor.”

            “You’ll have to delay,” said Spock.

            “What’s wrong?” asked (Y/N), leaning over beside him.

            “I’m picking up two lifeforms in the gallery,” said Spock. “They are inseparably close to one another. We cannot transport one without the other.”

            “Didn’t the Captain want him to be transported ‘immediately?’ ” asked Scotty.

            “He would not want us to put another person at risk in the mines,” said (Y/N). And although they knew it was Droxine beside her father on Stratos, they didn’t want her to be harmed.

            “The lifeform has moved. The High Advisor is on his own,” said Spock. “Lock in our Council Gallery coordinates.”

            “Locked in,” said Scotty.

            “Energize,” said Spock.

            “Aye, sir,” said Scotty.

            “How are we doing, Scotty?” asked (Y/N).

            “Fine,” said Scotty. “The High Advisor is materializing on the platform.”

            “Beam him down to Captain Kirk immediately,” said Spock.

            “Energizing, sir,” said Scotty. “He’s on his way to the Captain.”

            “Good work, Mr. Scott,” said Spock.

            “The Advisor looked mighty angry,” said Scotty, nearly giggling. “I hope he doesn’t give the Captain too much trouble.”

            “The Captain will employ his usual diplomatic balm,” said Spock wryly, raising an eyebrow in an unimpressed manner. The communications cut off, and (Y/N) smirked.

            “Why, was that sarcasm, dear?” they said, leaning on the back of his chair.

            “If people choose to interpret my words in a certain way, I cannot stop them,” replied Spock, and (Y/N) laughed lightly.

l

            An hour had passed, and they had received no reports from Kirk, and time was running out for Merak II. Spock and (Y/N) were left just to wonder what was happening below. (Hopefully, Kirk’s “diplomacy” would pay off).

            “It’s been some time,” said Spock, standing. “We must contact the Captain for an update on his status.”

            (Y/N) nodded. “We can check in the Transporter Room.”

            They headed into the elevator and down to the Transporter Room, meeting up with Bones (also worried) before they contacted Kirk. They pinged his communicator and waited.

            “Kirk here. What is it?” questioned Kirk, voice snapping slightly.

            “Contact check, Captain,” said Spock.

            “It has been over an hour since your last communication,” added (Y/N).

            “Your orders are to stand by,” said Kirk in irritation. “Now carry them out! Kirk out!”

            (Y/N) frowned. They suspected the zenite gas exposure was affecting Kirk, as well.

            Spock raised an eyebrow. “Standing by, Captain. However, let me remind you that we have only five hours left—” Kirk shut off his communicator “—until the deadline for Merak II runs out.”

            “The gas is definitely harming him,” said (Y/N), crossing their arms worriedly.

            “Until he reports in, however, we have no authority to bring him back,” said Spock, folding his arms.

            And so they were left to wait. For what felt like forever (But really was only another few minutes since Spock was keeping track of the time).

            “Enterprise!” Vanna’s voice pierced the air. “Enterprise, help! Enterprise!”

            (Y/N) was on the comms in a moment. “Enterprise. (L/N) here.”

            “They’ll kill each other!” cried Vanna. “Help us!”

            Spock didn’t wait, and as (Y/N) and Bones turned to him worriedly, he flipped switches and set the coordinates of the Transporter.

            “Enterprise!” cried Vanna again.

            The Transporter locked on, and Spock pulled the lever. Kirk, Plasus, and Vanna materialized in the Transporter Room. Vanna was staring at the men in fear as they attempted to throttle each other. The gas had indeed affected them.

            “Captain, the zenite gas has affected you,” said Spock, pulling Kirk away from Plasus. The advisor collapsed to the ground. Kirk panicked and pulled against Spock, and (Y/N) pushed him back.

            “Captain, the zenite gas!” they said sharply.

            Kirk paused. “The zenite gas?” he repeated, relaxing slightly.

            Plasus jerked up to his feet, and Bones shouted in warning, “Look out, Jim!”

            Plasus grabbed Kirk by the throat, but Kirk hit him back easily. Plasus fell to the ground heavily. He was unconscious.

            Kirk took a deep breath and coughed awkwardly. He straightened his shirt, now calm. “Well…it seems my little demonstration was…quite a success.” He nodded, pleased with himself.

            “One hell of a diplomacy,” murmured (Y/N).

            Spock stared at his captain in Vulcan disbelief, and Bones stared at him in open awe.

l

            Back on Stratos, the situation with Plasus and Vanna (and the other Troglytes) was starting to resolve itself. As Kirk spoke to Plasus, (Y/N) and Spock explained the situation to any Stratos dwellers who had questions.

            Droxine, of course, had come up to them. “I don’t like filters or even masks. I like the word ‘protector’ much better.” She glanced at Spock. “Don’t you?”

            (Y/N) nearly sighed at how much attraction Droxine still had.

            “It is less technical,” remarked Spock. “Therefore less accurate.”

            “But it is descriptive,” said (Y/N).

            Droxine glanced between them, a solid pair who wouldn’t be pulled apart. She pouted a little, but she didn’t press.

            “It appears you have what you came for after all,” said Plasus as he walked up to them with Vanna and Kirk. Their conversation was at an end.

            “The Captain will have his zenite just as I agreed,” said Vanna.

            “Agreed?” Plasus scoffed. “There’s no such word in the Troglyte vocabulary.”

            (Y/N) narrowed their eyes. There was a whole system of discrimination to work through. But the Federation would be involved now, the vast amount of planets within it would ensure the Troglytes were helped to be treated well.

            “The Captain will have his zenite,” said Vanna, refusing to lower her head.

            “No thanks to any agreement from you,” muttered Plasus. “It had to be obtained by force.”

            “Because it is the only way we can obtain what is due to us,” said Vanna.

            “How about your education?” demanded Plasus. “Was that by force?”

            “It served your purpose at the time,” pointed out Vanna, and (Y/N) was tempted to grin by Plasus’s sour emotions.

            “You could have had those filters for all the good it will do you,” huffed Plasus.

            “They will be very effective, sir,” sighed Kirk, exhausted with the whole ordeal. “They have been severely tested. And the Troglytes will no longer suffer from the zenite gas.”

            “They will be like her—ungrateful, vindictive,” argued Plasus, even though it was fruitless at this point.

            “Yes. Our demands have just begun,” said Vanna, smiling smugly, and the coldness of her gaze was belied by the warmth of her emotions as her demands were starting to be met. She gestured to where sentinels carried boxes up to the transporter zone. “Here is the zenite, Captain. Just as I promised.”

            “Thank you, Vanna,” said Kirk.

            “Stratos is so pleasant and so beautiful,” murmured Droxine as she watched everything happening. “I think I’m afraid to leave it.”

            “There is knowledge to be found below,” said (Y/N) kindly. “It would do anyone who wishes to truly understand the world they live in well to experience it.”

            “I shall go to the mines,” said Droxine. She squared her shoulders. “I no longer wish to be limited to the clouds.” She paused and glanced at (Y/N) and Spock. “Are your planets like this one?”

            “No. No, Vulcan is quite different,” said Spock.

            “Celia had its struggles. But we found a way to exist together despite all of the differences among us,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “I should like to visit those planets,” said Droxine.

            And (Y/N) nodded. Droxine was learning more about the world and the types of people within it. Her crush on Spock would subside once she learned that he was not the only interesting man in the galaxy. She would find the perfect person for her. And, after all, Spock was perfect for (Y/N), and they for him.

            “Spock, (L/N), come on, we have three hours left,” said Kirk, walking up to the platform.

            “Two hours, fifty-nine minutes to be exact, Captain,” corrected Spock.

            (Y/N) smiled as they stood beside Spock on the platform. They looked at him softly. Yes. He was perfect to them.

Taglist:

@a-ofzest

@grippleback-galaxy

@genderfluid-anime-goth

@groovy-lady

@im-making-an-effort

@unending-screaming

@h-l-vlovesvintage

@neenieweenie

@keylimeconstellation

@wormwig

@technikerin23

@ilyatan

@nthdarkqueen

[riphimopen]

SANG IOS SMILE WILL NEVER BE WORTHLESS TO ME... ITS WORHT 100000000000000 SUNS❗❗🙏

whatever

[freneticfloetry]

au game!!! TK and Carlos have an awkward first meeting when - after seeing each other a few times on calls - they run into each other at a local STD testing clinic (we stan safe sex lol)

We do indeed!

1. Carlos figures it must be fate when he literally runs into (as in bodily) the hot firefighter from the rebuilt 126 who he’s been staring at across call scenes for a few weeks. Sure, the guy’s headed into the intake room just as Carlos is coming out, fingers pressed to the bundle of cotton ball and bandaid just below his elbow, but Carlos gets tested like clockwork and he appreciates any potential partner who does the same. Then he notices that the guy is in uniform… and so is the firefighter he’s with, the gorgeous girl in the hijab. They have pamphlets and packets and all sorts of supplies. Aaaaand this is awkward.

2. When they run into each other again, the next night at the honky tonk, the guy comes over to introduce himself. Explains that they’re bringing a bit of liberal New York sex ed to the firehouse, and offering no questions asked supplies and resources to the 126’s service area. But before that officially launches, he’d like to brush up on some practical use, for later demonstration, and could use a volunteer.

3. Three demos in, TK points out that it was just a line. Carlos is keeping a very detailed spreadsheet.

4. Carlos reluctantly lets himself be roped into acting as TK’s assistant for the presentation run through he has to give to his captain. (There may have been lube-related bribery involved). He doesn’t mention that his captain is also his father until it’s much, much too late.

5. The day Carlos happens to stop by for lunch, only to have TK incorporate him into the “getting tested with your partner” portion of the proceedings and wave at him like Vanna White, he smiles through his horror and mentions to the class that there might be abstinence in TK’s immediate future. TK just laughs and kisses his cheek and says that would only be punishment for them both.

Send me a potential AU and I’ll tell you five fun facts that would happen in a story.

[vanna-huang]

WHERE: Paradise Resort and Spa... New Year's Bash!

@riverwclker

Running into her cute new friend, River, was definitely a highlight of the night. Vanna had never met anyone quite like her before—she was a bit scatterbrained, like a tiny mouse in a cage. Vanna felt an instinctual urge to take care of her, to guide her in a way that triggered her "older sister" instincts. It also helped that River was quite talkative, while Vanna tended to be more of a listener. Though, that's open to interpretation. Coming back to their table, Vanna hands her a new drink as she takes a sip of her own, sitting next to her. "Okay, back!" she smiles, twisting her body to face her. "You were saying?"

[maitaiwiththecorpses]

letters to him

Thank you all for voting so much, so without further ado, all five parts of letters to him!

letters to him (natalya)- April 9th, 2024

dear,

dearest,

my dearest,

but not anymore

because you see we can’t seem to stop fighting

it’s like we’re always at war.

it used to be cute back when we were

Love,

Loved,

Loving (?)

of each other

but perhaps it’s just me pushing

all that love down the gutter

i’m a prude and so crude and you can’t seem to make up your mind about me

i piss you off, and damn i’m so off and Miss. Rachiminoff in your shadow

treated like a little sister and despised by all of your misters

‘aggressive, much?’ You asked one noon and I knew in that moment all I was to you,

an exotic little girl who begged for your plastic spoon

the promise of life and death and “fly me to the moon”

and when my heart pumped blood enough to be fuel to our moon

you made me your Monna Vanna and wrote me as a fool

letters to him (sabrina)- April 9th, 2024

little poem little lie

what a beast, ‘Here She Lies’

three time’s the charm

that’s a damn lie

I tried once,

twice,

five thousand times

their screams and cries inside these walls

bounce around like his favorite tennis ball

“NO”

one more time

“NO”

just one more

“NO”

i’m on the floor wishing it would all just stop.

you threaten me after hearing my words

languages i never thought you’d learn

swears that we promised in the dead of the night would never spurn from your mouth to mine

on the ground, in the air, right in front of us to plead with sighs

you to took my image and ground me to the core

and now all that’s left is some numbskulled-whore

letters to him (olivia)- April 10th, 2024

Rageful women never get far

darling, maybe that was our destined start

Me, to rule with a crown full of tears and a head full of hope

You, to strike me down with all of my fears and the promise of a tantalizing grown man

someone to come home

but

Teenage girls never get far

and baby, that’s what’s been wrong from the start

You, expecting perfect

Me, thinking it too

i wish i could come home

but

After everything I said to you?

letters to him (taylor)- April 10th, 2024

Speak the words that nobody else does

I wonder how long these words were unsaid

Passive belonging and talk of my talent

You never believed it till I softly said,

“Come for me at the dusk and the dawn,

Where the daylight bends and the rivers are gone

How come women are weak when it’s time to move on?

Every regret has its own mournful song”

And to keep in the light from this shadowed world

I decided no regrets are spared on men with subpar clothes

Maybe a king would have mercy, or even a queen

But a goddess primordial no man has ever seen.

letters to him (lizzie)- April 10th, 2024

It takes time to put aside

Every painful boy

Till one comes up and says “that’s love” with a shrug and a mournful smile

He reminded me of nebulas

And galaxies

And stars that were tested with time

At this point most people think the list is over, but I've only just described his eyes

It’s like the sun found a boy and said,

“you will walk my earth,

and with that blessing,

may your very heart

be that of Hestia’s hearth”

And then they pulled him from fiction, and put him in the rain

Those eyes of galaxies and stars that could never know such pain.

He waited patiently till monster turned friend,

And when found by a hunter, he predicted their crooked end.

I know when I get too dark I should avoid his gaze

But for him, I’d waste every birthday wish, loose eyelash, and every single star

And if he doesn’t want my stars and wishes, like the ones in his eyes,

I’ll pack up my letters

And kiss him goodbye

[galexystern]

island of love - part one

a steve harrington/reader love island au

word count; 17k

read on ao3 / series masterlist / part two / my masterlist

You step out of the car into literal paradise. Walking down the driveway to the massive, beautiful villa, you marvel at the lush greenery, clear blue skies, and perfect temperature with just a light breeze. You can hear birds chirping in the trees and—

And a voice screaming, "Oh my god, hi!"

You look down and see a gorgeous girl waving wildly at you. You speed up to reach her sooner rather than later. When you do, she throws her arms around you and gives you an unexpected hug. You return it, only somewhat awkwardly.

"This is so exciting!" She gushes when she leans back.

"I know!" You don't want to come off as too eager, but this girl's excitement is infectious.

"I'm Chrissy!"

You introduce yourself and ask, "Are you the first girl here?"

"Yeah!" You think her every sentence is going to have an exclamation point at the end of it. "But we can't go in until the final girl is here!"

You're about to respond when there's a revving of an engine. You turn around just in time to see another car stop and the door open. A beautiful girl emerges and flips her hair before strutting down to you and Chrissy. She doesn't close the car door. She also doesn't move any faster than a model walk, so you two are stuck just watching her.

"Hi, girls," she calls out.

"Hi!" Chrissy shouts back enthusiastically.

The girl takes another minute to reach you and strikes a catwalk pose, which is completely unnecessary. You hold back a snicker.

"I'm Emma," she purrs. Yes, purrs.

Chrissy introduces herself and you. You give Emma a smile and wave, but she only fake-smiles back while eyeing you up and down critically. It's lucky you don't know where all the cameras are hidden, because you would've looked directly into one, turning this reality show into a mockumentary.

Suddenly something dings. Chrissy looks down at her designated phone. "We can go in now!" She gasps.

Emma holds out a hand imperiously. "Lead the way."

You fight an eye roll as you follow Chrissy into the villa with Emma on your heels. Chrissy explains that you three can explore the villa for a few minutes but must make your way to the backyard for the first coupling. You buzz in excitement.

You and Chrissy look around the villa with gasps and exclamations while Emma just moves through like she's better than it. She makes it to the door to the backyard before you do, and seems annoyed at having to wait.

You'd like to make a comment but Chrissy just bursts out the door and you and Emma have to hurry to catch up with her. She leads all of you back outside, to the start of a trellis, where she stops abruptly. "We have to wait here," she whispers. "They'll let us know to come out."

Right on cue, your phone chirps. "You're up first! Please head out to meet host Naomi now."

Chrissy gives you an excited thumbs-up and Emma looks at you coolly. Shaking your head, you breathe deeply as you walk through the trellis and into the sunshine. Holding up a hand so you can actually see, you spot Naomi and three boys watching you. As you make your way to them, you take the chance to check them out. They're all very attractive, but one catches your eye: a tall, muscular guy with the most perfect floppy brown hair and a smile that makes you wanna giggle. He doesn't take his gaze off you and you have to look away to watch where you're going so you don't trip and fall at the attention.

"Alright, love?" Naomi calls out. "Come join me." You take the last few steps and stand beside her. She's stunning obviously—it is her job. She gives you a very white smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Excited," you reply. "A little nervous."

She gives a little TV laugh. "Totally understandable! How do you like these boys?" She holds out a hand like she's Vanna White.

You give them the proper once-over for the cameras but you're still drawn to the boy with the amazing hair. He's looking at you with that grin, and you smile just for him before turning back to Naomi. "Well, they're all gorgeous, that's for sure."

"That they are!" Naomi and Chrissy would be best friends, you think. "Anyone you like in particular yet?"

You resist looking at the brunette. "Maybe," you answer coyly.

"Ooh, we've got a mysterious one here, boys! Now it's your turn. Please step forward if you're feeling this lovely lady," Naomi directs.

Two of the three boys step forward, including your boy, you're happy to note. "Hi," you call out. They each give you a wave.

"Love this result for you!" Naomi chirps. You can't help your eyes from widening in awkwardness and you hear a snicker from the boys. The other boys are watching Naomi. You risk a glance and see your boy still looking at you, mouth twisted like he's holding in a laugh, and your stomach suddenly has butterflies. Naomi continues, "Steve, Ryan, tell us why you stepped forward."

The other boy, Ryan, jumps in first. "Well, obviously she's beautiful." He gives you a fuckboy nod and you have to stop yourself from scoffing and smile at him instead.

Then your boy—Steve—speaks. "I agree, you are gorgeous." You thrill at how he's talking directly to you. "But I also like your vibe. I feel like we'd get along." You let yourself linger in the eye contact, which doesn't break until Naomi starts talking again.

"Those are some tempting answers," she says. What a script. "But unfortunately, you will not be able to pick who you'd like to couple up with. The public have been voting and have decided who your first partner should be." You're disappointed but unsurprised. They do it this way every time. "So," she continues, speaking your name dramatically, "the boy you will be coupling up with is..." You hold your breath and cross your fingers. "Blake!"

Guess that trick doesn't work.

You look at the third boy. He's great-looking but he hadn't stepped forward for you, and you would prefer to be in a couple with someone who like, finds you attractive. As you walk over to him, he gives you a half-smile.

"Hey," he says. "Welcome."

"Thanks," you reply as you stand next to him.

Naomi beams at you. "How are you two feeling!" She asks it with an exclamation point. "Our first couple!"

You shrug. "Happy enough."

"I'm chilling," Blake answers.

You can tell Naomi was hoping for more and now has to pivot. "Well, let's bring out our second girl! Everyone, please welcome Emma!"

Predictably, Emma takes her sweet time walking to you all, still strutting her stuff at the only speed she seems to know. When she reaches Naomi, she winks and blows a kiss to all the boys. You hear Blake swallow next to you. Awesome.

Naomi asks Emma how she is. "Great," she replies with a sharp smile. "Raring to go."

"Excellent!" Naomi looks at the boys again. "Boys, please step forward if you like Emma."

As suspected, Blake steps forward, as does Ryan. You take a peek down the line and see Steve has not moved forward. You let yourself smile a little.

"Hm, I like what I see." Emma clearly steals Naomi's thunder, and the host's smile goes a little strained.

"Blake, Ryan," she says loudly to take back control, "tell us what you like about Emma."

Again, Ryan speaks first. Good to know he's that type of guy. "Wow, she's stunning. I love the energy."

Emma gives him an unimpressed look and moves her attention to Blake, who says, "She is beautiful. But she's clearly got the attitude. She needs someone to dish it back." You can tell she liked that answer, because her eyes go dark and her smile goes wicked.

"Intriguing," Naomi says. "Wish we could let you pick. But! The public has voted for your couple. So the boy you will be coupling up with is..." Emma doesn't take her eyes off Blake. "Steve!"

Not only does your stomach drop, but Emma's face falls for a split-second before she regains composure. She eyes Steve, who gives her a tight-lipped smile. She stalks over to him and they stand next to each other with an inch of space between them. Blake and Ryan step back, Blake with drooped shoulders. He's already in a couple with you, why is he disappointed? This is shaping up to be great for your self-esteem.

"Steve and Emma!" Naomi claps her hands. "What do you think?"

Emma is very clearly trying to keep her attitude in check for the cameras. "Can't be mad about it, can I? He's gorgeous."

"Yeah, it's alright," Steve replies vaguely. He turns his head and catches your eye, and you see the start of a grin before you turn back to Naomi.

"Great!" You really hope Chrissy gives Naomi what she wants. "Let's bring out our third and final girl. Boys, this is Chrissy!" Chrissy comes practically running from the trellis, waving madly. You smile at her excitement while Naomi looks relieved by her energy. Chrissy joins Naomi and gives her an eager expression, shoulders scrunching up. "How are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm so excited!" Chrissy almost seems like she'll levitate from all this joy. "Can't believe I'm here!"

"We're excited to have you!" Naomi turns to the rest of you with a triumphant beam. "Let's see how the boys are feeling about you. Boys, please step forward if you want to get to know this beauty here."

Ryan steps forward of course, but he looks more excited this time. Neither Steve nor Blake join him. You feel a little sad for Chrissy but she doesn't seem sad for herself. She and Ryan are looking at each other like they're the only two people in the whole villa.

"Ryan, tell us why you stepped forward."

"Oh, man," he says, "she's beautiful, fun, adorable, the whole package!"

Chrissy blushes. "Oh, stop," she says, waving half-heartedly.

Naomi is eating this up. "Great answer, Ryan. I agree with all those descriptors." Big word. "And since you're our last single boy, that means that you and Chrissy are now coupled up per our public vote!" Chrissy gives a little clap and rushes over to Ryan, who looks stunned and delighted. Okay, maybe he's not a fuckboy, maybe he's just a himbo. Naomi goes on, "Well, that's all for me. I'll let you couples get to know each other, and I will see you soon." You all dutifully watch her walk away.

Chrissy breaks the moment by squealing. "Finally!"

"Let's drink!" Emma calls out and everyone cheers. You all make your way to the island holding the champagne and glasses. Blake takes the bottle and opens it with a flourish, mostly for Emma's sake. You just wait for a full glass and Blake to come grab you for a chat, as is natural.

Except it never comes. Well, you get the champagne. But Blake doesn't join you, instead walking over and whisking Emma away to talk. You sigh.

"Guess we know who the bitch couple of the villa will be," someone says behind you, and you turn to see Steve smirking. You take in his words and laugh. His smirk turns to a smile and he walks around the counter to lean on it. You mirror his pose.

"Very high school king and queen bee," you agree.

"Exactly." He nods. "I'm Steve."

"I know," you tease, but give your name too.

"Pretty."

"Me or the name?"

"Both."

You blush. "Thanks." Your voice is quiet and you clear your throat. "So, Steve, what brings you here?"

"An SUV," he responds, deadpan, and you laugh again. "Oh, you meant the villa?" He asks exaggeratedly. "The usual: love."

"I guess that is a basic question," you concede. "It is called Island of Love."

"Not everyone comes for love," Steve protests. "But I doubt they'd tell you that."

You narrow your eyes. "Then you could be lying."

"Nah, I'm as honest as they come." It's obviously something a liar would say, but there's something in his eyes that makes you believe him. Maybe it's the hope. Maybe it's the excitement. Maybe it's the way he's looking at you. One of those. "And I'm honest when I say I like you." Maybe it's that.

"We'll see," you reply lightly, trying to keep him on his toes. "You'll have to prove it."

"Prove it," he echoes and you nod. "I can do that, beautiful."

You blush, but you're prevented from responding by Chrissy running up and grabbing your arm. "It's time to go get ready for tonight! Come on!" You let her pull you away, giving Steve a helpless smile and he grins in response.

;

Chrissy takes you to the dressing room and you help each other pick out what you'll wear for the evening. You ask Emma if she wants to join in, but she looks like she'd rather die, so you leave her alone. You let Chrissy babble as the three of you put on makeup and style your hair. She talks nonstop about the villa, Ryan, the other boys, Ryan, the closets full of clothes, Ryan, the tons of makeup supplies, Ryan.

"I'm guessing you like Ryan?" You tease good-naturedly.

Chrissy goes pink. "Maybe I am being a little obvious," she says, giggling nervously.

"A little?" Emma comments under her breath and you shoot her a look.

"I think it's cute," you say pointedly. "That is the whole point." Chrissy gives you a thankful smile.

Once you're ready to go, you walk through the villa and outside, where the boys are already waiting. Steve looks delicious in a simple white t-shirt with jeans and sneakers, hair perfectly styled. He keeps his eyes on you as the three of you walk towards them, smiling. He meets you in a few paces and hands you a champagne glass. "Here you go," he says.

"Thanks," you reply. You glance around while taking a sip and find exactly what you'd expected: Blake presenting Emma with a glass. You roll your eyes. Taking another look, you see Chrissy bouncing next to Ryan, talking excitedly. He looks like he can't believe his luck. It makes you smile.

"Should we cheers?" Steve asks, bringing your attention back to him.

You lift up your cup. "To what?"

"To...fresh starts. Chances for love."

You click your glass against his, butterflies going again in your stomach. "To love," you echo, paraphrasing.

He inclines his head in acknowledgement and you both take a sip.

"Steve!" Emma calls and you both turn to her. "Can I pull you for a chat?"

A flash of disappointment crosses his face before he smiles, nodding amiably. "Sure. See you later?" He asks you.

"Not really anywhere for me to go," you reply and he laughs. "But yes."

"Good." He takes one last look at you and joins Emma, who leads him to the seating area next to the trellis.

"Yo," Blake says from behind you. "Chat?"

You nod and he lumbers off. You walk after him, preparing yourself for whatever this will be. He slumps onto a beanbag and you descend carefully so you're not flashing any cameras. Strike one: not helping you sit in your dress. Once you're finally down, he exhales heavily. "So..." he trails off.

"So," you echo and try to make this as enjoyable as possible. "what do you do?"

"I'm in marketing."

"Cool. What do you market?"

"Finance."

What the fuck does that even mean? This is like pulling teeth. Strike two. He does not ask you the same question, but you answer like he did. "Well, I'm a musician. I specialize in violin."

"Nice." He yawns. He's not even looking at you.

You try one more time. "What do you like to do?" He just looks at you. "You know. For fun."

"Drink. Basketball. Video games. Fast cars."

"I see." You give him the space to ask you but he just takes a sip of his drink. Strike three. You settle into the silence, trying not to watch Steve and Emma's conversation. She seems to be going overboard, laughing loudly and slapping him like he's being naughty. He's just watching her in amusement. You can tell he is not remotely saying the things Emma is implying. But it's working: Blake tenses beside you and when you glance at him, he's glaring daggers at them across the yard. You hide a smirk.

Eventually it becomes too much and Blake huffs and stands, stalking over to the kitchen. You watch him go, seeing Emma notice and quickly leave her chat with Steve, who also studies the interaction between them. Then he's turning to you, and you wave. He stands and ambles over to you.

"I feel like a scientist," he says when close enough. "I'm just watching this experiment play out."

You laugh. "Well, I think maybe the government might've found the perfect torture method."

Steve sits on Blake's empty beanbag. "That bad?"

"Almost worse."

"Sorry." He actually seems apologetic too.

"Seems like you two were having a good time." It's a tease.

"Absolutely," he replies sarcastically. "I was having the time of my life." You laugh again. "Seriously, I think she might've bruised me with all those slaps. She's got hidden strength."

"Maybe keep some distance away at all times," you suggest. "That way she can't reach you."

He chuckles. "Can you imagine? I could serve her a very small restraining order right here. Can't come within a foot of me or she'll be forced to run a lap."

You snort. "I'm not even sure she can run. I think she only has one speed."

"I've noticed." You two grin at each other.

You clear your throat. "So, Steve, what do you do?"

"I'm a teacher."

"Aw." You melt. "What grade?"

"Sixth."

"Aren't kids like, at their meanest then?"

"That's seventh grade. I get the kids right before they become little angsty monsters."

"Oh, right. Obviously."

Steve smirks at your sarcasm. "What about you?" He asks.

"I'm a musician. I specialize in violin."

"Cool!" He seems like he really means it. "Does that mean you're like, in an orchestra?"

"I'd like to be. But I'm just giving lessons right now."

"This place doesn't really seem like your scene then."

"Maybe not. But $25,000 would be really nice. Keep me afloat while I audition."

"Isn't the prize $50,000?"

"Yeah, but obviously I would split it in my couple. Anyone who wouldn't is an asshole."

Steve fakes outrage. "You're calling me an asshole?" You laugh, which makes him break and join in. "Seriously," he continues, "I would split it too."

"Good to know." You know there's a sparkle in your eye as you gaze at each other. It matches the one in his. "So what do you do for fun?"

He hums, thinking. "I like basketball. I coach the middle school team. I used to play in high school." You take a sip while he muses. "I read all the new comic books.”

“Favorite superhero?” You interrupt.

“Superman.” He shrugs. “Boring, I know.”

“No, it’s a classic. Timeless.”

He smiles in thanks. “You?”

“My favorite superhero is Captain Marvel.”

He laughs. “I meant what you do for fun, but good choice.”

“Thanks.” You knew what he meant, you just wanted to hear his laugh again. “I like to read, bake, garden, and roller-skate.”

“That’s it?” He teases and you blush.

“Among others.”

“Well, I used to swim in high school. I’m a bit rusty but I’m sure it’s like riding a bike.”

“Is there anything you didn’t do in high school?” You ask, amused.

“Yeah, study.” He grins at your laugh. “But roller-skating. That’s fun.”

“I’m not very good at it, but I try.”

“It’s easier with two people, you know.”

“Are you implying you wanna go roller-skating with me?”

“Actually, I was thinking Emma would be perfect.” He’s deadpan again, making you giggle. He continues, “But I’d love to go roller-skating with you.”

“Can you roller-skate?”

“I did do it in high school—“ You cut him off with a weak slap and he chuckles. “No, I didn’t, and I can’t. But I bet you’re a really great teacher.” You’re blushing but then he goes on, “I’d be your pupil any day.”

You roll your eyes at the obvious innuendo, making him laugh. Then you’re yawning, and he goes soft. “Been a long day. Let’s get you to bed.” He stands and holds out his hands to help you up. You let him and he easily hauls you upright. Home run.

Everyone is also making their way to the villa. Chrissy joins you and gushes about her conversations with Ryan. You give Steve one last smile before disappearing into the dressing room. You shower and get ready for bed, slipping into comfortable but cute pajamas. You go to the bedroom and discover your bed is next to Steve’s, who is already laying down. He’s wearing glasses and looks utterly adorable.

He lights up when he sees you. “Guess we’re neighbors.”

You slide onto the side of the bed closest to him. “What a nice surprise.”

“The best.”

The rest of the islanders trickle in. The lights go out and you settle in, turning to face Steve. You can see him looking back at you in the darkness.

“I had fun today,” he whispers.

“Me too.”

“I can’t wait to get to know you more,” he says with a yawn and you go all melty.

“Me too,” you repeat. He gives you one last smile before you two fall asleep, still facing each other.

;

The next morning, it would be perfect to say you wake up looking into Steve's eyes. But when the lights come on, you just squeeze your eyes closed tighter and pull the covers over your face. You stay dozing as you feel Blake sitting up beside you and the islanders say their good mornings. Someone calls your name. "Yoo-hoo! Good morning!"

It's Emma. If your eyes were open you would roll them. But you just groan grumpily.

Steve laughs near you. It makes you relax into your pillow.

Then the bed dips and a minute later, someone jumps onto it, making it bounce. "Come on, sleepyhead!" Chrissy prods you gently. "Let's go get some coffee and talk shop!"

You take another second to soak in the dark before throwing the comforter off. Everyone cheers as you sit up. "Oh, fuck off," you mutter, making them laugh as you trudge after Chrissy. Steve holds out a pair of sunglasses and you take them gratefully, giving him a smile as you slip them on and step outside. The glasses are a godsend. It's bright as hell out here.

You meet Chrissy in the kitchen. She's brewing the coffee, so you grab mugs, milk, and sugar. As it drips into the pot, the rest of the islanders trickle in. Emma and Steve join you in waiting for the coffee, while Blake goes for tea and Ryan just gets some ice water. When it's ready, Chrissy pours into four mugs and you each take one.

"How do you take it?" Steve asks, while sipping his black.

"Two sugars," you start, dropping in the right amount of sugar cubes, "and just a dash of milk." You demonstrate by putting in less than a teaspoon of milk. Tasting it, you nod. "I don't trust anybody else to do it. It has to be just right."

"Hope you're okay with some trial and error." Steve gives you a wink. You smile into your cup at the idea of Steve making you coffee in the morning.

"I might be," you reply vaguely. He grins.

"I'll take it."

Then Chrissy is taking your hand and pulling you over to the fire pit. Emma eventually follows, and the three of you sit together and start talking. Chrissy immediately launches into an excited retelling of her night with Ryan, which included them spooning. "He was very gentlemanly," she reassures. "No funny business."

Emma yawns. "Boring."

You shoot her a look but Chrissy says back pointedly, "Well, how was your night?"

"Fine," she replies like she's bored. "Steve wanted to make something happen but I turned him down."

You snort and she glares at you. "What about you?" She spits your name with venom.

Shrugging, you take a sip. "I slept great," you finally answer. "These beds are so nice."

Emma smirks. Chrissy asks, "So nothing with Blake?"

"He's not really my type." You smile at her to let her know you don't care.

"How could he not be?" Emma scoffs. "He's freaking gorgeous."

"Well, I like to have intelligent conversation with my partner," you retort.

Chrissy nods in agreement eagerly, but Emma waves a hand. "Overrated," she says. You and Chrissy exchange a look with wide eyes and raised brows.

"Are you feeling anyone else?" She asks nervously.

You don't want to lie but want to make sure she knows you're not into Ryan. Or at least you wouldn't do that to her. "Possibly, but I'm not out to steal anyone's man." She smiles in relief.

"That's the whole point of this show," Emma interjects.

"If a guy wants to couple up with me, he's not stolen. He wants to get taken," you explain. "And I'll be honest about it every step of the way." At Emma's eye roll, you look at Chrissy. "Come on, let's go get dressed." She nods, and you two leave Emma at the fire pit alone.

Chrissy and you walk inside, discussing what you should do today. You help each other pick out swimsuits and give opinions on hairstyles. Eventually Emma comes in but you two are pretty much done, so you just head back outside together. The boys are all in various spots: Ryan in the gym, Blake chilling on the sundeck, and Steve swimming laps in the pool.

You don't even decide to go over there, your feet just bring you like they're drawn to him. You sit and dangle your feet in the water, admiring the lines of Steve's back in the sun and the way his arms break the water with his strides. Even his hair is behaving.

Finally he reaches the edge and comes up for air. You have to hold in an exhale as you watch him slick his hair back and tense his abdomen muscles. He spots you looking and gives you a smirk, making you blush and look away. He glides over and rests his arms next to you.

"Finally awake?" He asks.

"I have had my coffee, so yes, I am awake," you answer primly, making him grin. It makes you grin back. "I thought you were rusty at swimming."

"Well, I don't have a pool at home," he explains. "But it is like riding a bike."

"I wouldn't know. I can't swim."

He looks at you in shock. "What? You can't swim?"

You shrug. "I'm from a land-locked state. Never got around to it."

"We're gonna have to fix that," he says resolutely.

"You gonna teach me?" You tease.

"Obviously," he replies with a smile. "Emma and Blake would let you drown because they'd be too busy looking at each other. And Ryan wouldn't save you for fear of touching you in an inappropriate manner."

"What about Chrissy?"

He thinks. "Maybe. But I also think she wouldn't know you were drowning until too late. She'd be too busy cheering you on."

You look at him exasperatedly. "Such a happy topic for the morning."

"Sorry." He goes sheepish. "I'm sure any one of them would be good teachers."

"I'd rather have you teach me," you reply softly.

He lights up and you blush again. "I promise I wouldn't let you drown." You laugh. "So where are you from, Miss Land-Locked?"

"Not your best." He rolls his eyes and you giggle. "I'm from Colorado," you finally answer. "Denver."

"Do you like it?"

"Yeah, it's fine. Doesn't exactly have a world-renowned orchestra however."

"That's fair. It's pretty important. Where do you want to go? Or should I ask, which orchestra do you want to join?"

"Of course, it'd be a dream come true to go to Vienna or London. But in the US, I'd like to go to Chicago or New York. Maybe Cleveland." He looks at you with a raised eyebrow. "They're part of the Big Five!" At his confusion, you explain, "They're stated to be the best ones in the US. It's New York, Boston, Chicago, Philadelphia, and Cleveland. Any would be amazing to be part of."

"If you say so," he says skeptically.

With an eye roll, you continue, "What about you? Where are you from?"

"I'm from Indiana. I teach in Indianapolis."

"I don't know why you were disparaging Cleveland. You live next door."

"Yeah, but I don't wanna stay there forever."

"Where do you wanna go?"

"Honestly, some of the best schools are in Illinois. It wouldn't be hard to move there. Plus, it's got Chicago."

You smile. "You are correct. Chicago is in Illinois."

He laughs but doesn't say anything else. You know what he meant. It makes the butterflies come back.

Suddenly a phone dings. "I got a text!" Blake yells.  "Islanders, please make your way to the fire pit to play a round of Never Have I Ever!" He reads out.

Before you can even stand, Steve hops out of the pool and reaches out a hand. He pulls you up and you end up really close to him. His eyes are like honey in the sunshine and you could melt in them. His hand is lingering on yours and it's whipping the butterflies into a frenzy.

Finally, he gives you a smile and steps back, letting you walk first. You give him a shaky thanks and focus on your breathing as you join the other islanders at the fire pit. You sit next to Chrissy, and Steve sits beside you.

"Who wants to go first?" Ryan asks.

"Me!" Chrissy squeals, predictably. "Never have I ever...stolen something!"

Both you and Emma take a sip. She explains first. "I really wanted this top that my mom wouldn't let me get. I never got caught."

Then it's your turn. "I stole a candy bar from CVS. My dad realized and made me go back and apologize." At everyone's faces you snicker. "I was three. He only found out because the chocolate was all over my face in the car." They laugh and you join in.

"My turn," Blake says. "Never have I ever...hooked up on the first date."

"What are we defining as hooking up?" Steve asks.

"All the way," Blake clarifies.

Emma and Steve both drink. You want to ask Steve about it but notice Emma has gone red. "But we don't slut-shame here," you say loudly. "Right, everyone?" Steve and Chrissy nod immediately. You glare until Blake and Ryan do too. Emma gives you a small grateful look and you smile.

To distract, Emma clears her throat and says, "My turn. Never have I ever...eaten an orange." She snickers while everyone rolls their eyes and grumbles while drinking. "Allergic."

"I'll go," Steve says. "Never have I ever...had sex in a public place."

You, Emma, and Chrissy all drink.

"We've got some adventurous girls!" Ryan shouts. "Give us all the dirty deets."

Everyone looks at Emma. "In a pool," she explains. Then Chrissy. "In the gym shower."

Then you. "You know those Tunnel of Love rides they have at carnivals?" Everybody nods and then understands. They all "ooh" teasingly.

"Aren't those rides like, really short?" Chrissy asks.

"I was friends with the operator. They stopped the ride for us, faking maintenance problems." You smile fondly. "It was on my partner's bucket list."

"In public or specifically there?" Steve asks.

"Specifically the Tunnel of Love. We had to drive two hours to that carnival." You laugh. "The boat was really tight and rocky. But we had fun."

"Bold," Blake muses admiringly.

Steve leans over. "Congrats, you've been approved by the king," he whispers. You shove him lightly and he chuckles.

"Me next," you say. "Never have I ever...been to Paris." Emma, Blake, and Ryan drink. "That's on my bucket list," you add.

"They should make a show like this one but set in Paris," Chrissy says wistfully. "They could even call it City of Love."

"I would watch that," you reply. "There would be a challenge where the contestants have to order at a café without letting the barista know they're not French. They get a kiss if they pass."

"What's the punishment if they don't?"

"The disdain and contempt of the barista," you answer and Steve laughs.

"Worse than anything the producers could come up with," he adds.

"Exactly!" You look at him and know there are matching smiles between you two.

"Last but not least," Ryan says, and you turn to face him, blushing furiously. "Never have I ever...played an instrument."

"Feels targeted," you mutter while you drink, but Chrissy and Blake drink too. You all look at them.

"I played trumpet for like one year in middle school," Blake answers. "Not my thing."

"I play drums!" Chrissy exclaims. "My friends and I have a band."

Emma says what you're thinking: "I never would've expected that."

Chrissy smiles. "I like to surprise."

"What's your band called?" Steve interjects.

"The Cheerleaders. All of us look like preppy bitches, so we lean into it. We wear custom uniforms and everything."

"That's so cute," you gush. "You get to play gigs?"

"Some," she replies, going pink. "We like to play at a bar nearby. They don't pay us much but the customers are nice."

"I hope I get to go to one," you say earnestly and Chrissy smiles.

"You will," she replies firmly. "You'll be a VIP guest. All of you will be." Everyone chimes in with "Nice!"'s or "Cool!"'s. Chrissy ducks her head, clearly proud but also embarrassed. "I think it's time to get changed," she says hurriedly and rushes from the area. You watch her go in amusement before following, Emma behind you.

You two find her in the dressing room. "I can't believe you're in a band," you say in amazement. "I've always wanted to play drums."

"I could teach you!" Chrissy gets excited again.

You laugh. "I probably can't afford you. But I can give you violin lessons in return."

"Deal." She holds out a hand and you shake it. She grins at you. "It's cool you get to do it professionally. Mine's more of a side thing."

"It has its pros and cons." You go to the dresser and peek through the clothes, holding up options. "Like any other career."

"That one," Emma says quietly, pointing at the dress you're holding in one hand. You look at her and she gives a nervous nod. You smile and go with her advice. She continues, "Maybe I can join in on that deal?" You and Chrissy look at her. "I can't play an instrument, but I do know how to box."

"Boxing?" Chrissy asks in awe. "That's so cool! I'm down."

"Me too," you add. "My fatal flaw is thinking I can box when I have no idea how to. The movies just make it look so easy."

Emma genuinely laughs—the first time you've heard it. "It's not that hard. But you need a lot of core strength. Most of my training is lifting weights and learning control."

You three continue to talk about your respective interests as you get ready and all go down together. The boys are lounging in the bedroom, but stand when you enter. Chrissy bounces over to Ryan while Blake walks up to Emma. Steve falls in step with you. "You look amazing," he says softly.

"Thanks." You appraise him. He's wearing a striped tee that shows off his arms, dark jeans that show off his ass, and sneakers that show off nothing, but look good. "You too." He preens and you roll your eyes fondly.

Outside, all six of you cheers with champagne and then split into couples. There's no pretense this time, Blake and Emma going off together right away. Chrissy tells you and Steve to join her and Ryan on the daybeds and you all settle together. You talk, letting the conversation flow and lull as natural. You sit perpendicular on the bed, eventually leaning back so you're resting on Steve's legs. You glance at him to make sure it's okay and he smiles and nods in encouragement. As the four of you keep the conversation going, you can feel his fingers brushing the ends of your hair, almost unconsciously. It keeps a smile on your face.

At some point, Emma and Blake meander over and join in, Emma sitting next to you while Blake relaxes at Chrissy and Ryan's feet. You think it might derail the discussion, but the two are surprisingly good at opening up and crack jokes to keep it light. Someone grabs the champagne bottle and brings it back, topping you all up to finish it. Then Chrissy yawns, setting off a chain reaction.

Blake helps Emma stand, while Ryan and Chrissy lean on each other as they walk back tiredly. You think about getting up, but just burrow further against Steve.

"Not gonna move?" He asks with a smile.

You hum a no. "Too comfy," you explain.

"Love to hear that, beautiful, but unfortunately, my legs are numb."

Groaning, you sit up petulantly. Steve gets up from the bed and does some crazy moves to get feeling back in his legs, making you giggle uncontrollably. He eventually holds out a hand and you take it. You expect him to pull you upright and let go, but instead he drapes your arm around his neck and leans down to lift you, carrying you bridal-style. You squeal at the surprise. He laughs and starts walking back, holding you like you weigh nothing. You hum and rest your head on his shoulder.

"Not a morning or night person, huh?" He murmurs.

"Nope. I'm a middle-of-the-day person."

He chuckles. "That's a new one."

"I'm a new one."

"Tell me about it." He looks down at you with soft eyes. You can't look away for anything. It's only when you arrive at the door that you have to break the eye contact so you can pull it open for him. He enters the bedroom and sets you down gently.

"Thanks," you whisper.

"Anytime," he whispers back.

Your legs are shaky as you go shower.

;

The next few days are much of the same. You watch Steve do laps while Chrissy watches Ryan work out and Emma watches Blake cook, all three of you on the beach chairs. He's a surprisingly good cook, having made dinner one night to rave reviews. He seems to have appointed himself the designated chef, which is fine for the rest of you. If he wants to, and keeps making good food, you'll let him.

Steve and you continue talking, discussing more about dreams, desires, wants, needs, and more. The time flies by and Chrissy has to shout multiple times before you two register she's saying it's time to get ready for the evening.

You, Chrissy, and Emma fill the dressing room with chatter, giving opinions on clothing, makeup, and hairstyles while also talking about the boys and your lives. All the boys give you compliments when you enter the bedroom, making you all blush. Outside, someone gives a toast and you all cheers.

But before you can break into couples, someone's phone chimes.

"I got a text!" Emma says. "Islanders, please go to the fire pit immediately."

You look at each other in nervous anticipation and do as asked. You and Blake have to sit together, but Steve makes sure to be on your other side. He gives you a reassuring smile when you look at him in wariness. Then your phone dings.

"Islanders, there will now be a recoupling. The boys will pick who they would like to couple up with. Girls, please stand in front of the fire pit." You read.

You, Emma, and Chrissy all make your way to the edge of the deck platform. Steve's phone chirps, and he checks it before standing. His gaze is on you.

"I'd like to couple up with this girl because she's beautiful, funny, sarcastic, and intelligent. She keeps me on my toes and makes me work hard to keep up with her. I've had a great time getting to know her and all I've learned just makes me want to know more. And I'm excited to share a bed. Cuddling purposes only." Everyone laughs. "She makes me wanna be better. So the girl I'd like to couple up with is..."

His eyes are shining as he finishes with your name. You smile as everyone claps and you walk over to him. He greets you with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and you two sit down together.

Someone else's phone sounds, but you're too focused on the feel of Steve's arm around you and hand holding yours to pay attention. His skin is soft and warm, and you squeeze his hand in some variation on a pinch to make sure this is real. It is when he squeezes back.

"How was that?" He mutters out of the side of his mouth. "Did you like it?"

"I loved it," you whisper, unable to stop smiling.

You two clap as Emma walks over to Blake, sitting next to him. Another phone goes off—must be Ryan's. You try to pay attention to his speech for Chrissy, but Steve is distracting you by continuously brushing his thumb across the back of your hand. It gives you goosebumps.

Finally, Emma and Blake clap so you and Steve follow suit. Chrissy has bounded over to Ryan and kisses him on the cheek. They both sit looking like they've won the lottery. Chrissy looks at you and you give her an excited smile, which she returns.

Then she and Ryan, and Emma and Blake, meander away from the fire pit. Steve turns to you.

"Nice to finally be coupled up," you say.

"Means I can finally do this." He leans in.

You stop him. "It's only the first week. Are you sure?"

He looks at you with those honey eyes. "Never been more sure in my life." Then he kisses you. It's sweet and perfect, and he cups your face as his lips brush against yours. It doesn't go further than that, but it doesn't need to. It makes your heart race all the same.

There's cheering from the other side of the villa, and you and Steve part in embarrassed laughter. You both look at the other islanders, who are whooping and calling out encouragement. You wave at them to stop and they just get louder, making Steve laugh harder. "Oh my god," you moan. "Can you believe we just had our first kiss on live television?"

"That is the whole reason we're here," he teases.

You roll your eyes. "Let's go to bed." He nods eagerly.

You both stand and walk to the villa, holding hands. Chrissy joins you and drags you away so you can talk to her about the kiss, which you describe while you're in the shower and she's standing outside in the bathroom. She keeps aw-ing and generally looking like the heart-eyed emoji, which you try to ignore.

When she finally gets enough info, you walk into the bedroom. Steve is standing and staring at yours and Blake's bed and his and Emma's.

"So who moves?" He asks.

"I guess the producers don't decide that," you note. "Well, if we get to choose, you come to mine. It's farther from the door and the light that shines in."

He shrugs. "Works for me." He slides his monogrammed dresser and nightstand to your bed as you slip in. Once they're situated, he joins you. He settles back against the headboard and lifts an arm. You slide under it, snuggling close and resting your head on his chest. He wraps his arm around you and holds tight.

"I wish I had a book," you mutter, stuck watching the other islanders walk through the room.

"I could tell you a story." You look at Steve. "It's a little scary, though. That okay?" You nod and he takes a breath. "Alright. Once upon a time, a boy disappears. He was ordinary, liked playing D&D with his friends, idolized his older brother. His mom is worried sick and she and the police chief organize a group of volunteers to look for him..."

He continues on, telling the story of a girl named Eleven with psychic powers escaping from a government facility and crossing paths with friends of the missing boy, Will. You're engrossed, and it's a shock when the lights turn off.

"And that's when they find out about the Upside Down," Steve whispers and doesn't keep going.

"What's the Upside Down?" You ask, but Steve shakes his head.

"Tomorrow, beautiful. Want you to get your beauty sleep." You pout. "I know you're pouting right now, but I can't see it. So you'll have to save it."

You roll your eyes. "Party pooper."

He laughs quietly, scooting down the bed so you're both fully horizontal. "Don't worry, promise I'll finish it." You grumble but tuck in closer to him, getting comfortable. He presses a quick kiss to the crown of your head. "Goodnight."

You yawn. "G'night."

You sleep wonderfully.

;

A few mornings later, when the lights come on, Steve lifts the covers over your heads when you scrunch against him. He lets you doze for a while longer before asking if you want coffee. Weighing the options, you finally nod and get up. He smiles at your grumpy expression and kisses your cheek before leaving the bed.

You go through the dressing room to the terrace, where you find Chrissy and Emma. They ask you about your night, but you keep the bedtime story to yourself—it's just for you right now. Instead, you talk about the cuddling and great sleep. Chrissy also excitedly talks about her own cuddle with Ryan. Emma says she doesn't cuddle while sleeping, but does mention she and Blake held hands through the night. She blushes when you and Chrissy "ooh".

You all get ready and go downstairs. Steve hands you a cup and watches nervously as you sip it. You gently tell him there's too much milk and he frowns, but also that it's still good and thank him. He smiles and as he goes to the pool, you wander over to the daybeds, laying down in the shade. Before you know it, you're asleep.

However long later, someone yells, "I got a text!" You wake up with a start, finding Steve sitting next to you, fully dry. Guess you were out for a while. You stand and stretch, taking Steve's offered hand and walking with him to the kitchen. Ryan had gotten the text and he waits until all of you are there to read it. "Girls, who's ready prove themselves in a battle with the elements? It's time for A Girl For All Seasons!"

You all get ready in the according swimsuits as directed. They're all element-themed: boys wear either blue or green trunks, for water and earth, while girls wear red or white, for fire and air. Then you're off, running to the challenge area.

Another text reveals that each girl must go through the course literally battling the elements. She has to climb down the constructed rock wall from the starting point, run over (fake) fire, stand in front of a giant fan for ten seconds, and then run through a designated column, where the boys will be spraying her with water guns. Once she gets through, there will be origami birds waiting to be picked up, filled with fun facts about the boys. She must read it aloud and kiss the boy she thinks it connects to.

Chrissy volunteers to go first. She excellently scales the wall and runs over the fire. She has a little trouble with the fan, which is at like supersonic speed, and then the boys really go at it with the water—she's drenched when she makes it to the birds. She dries her hands before picking one up and reading the clue on the wing.

She reads, "This boy once hid from security and stayed overnight at his local history museum." Obviously, you're all playing for the kisses, not to be right, so she kisses Ryan. The rest of you holler as they go at it.

When they break apart, she unfolds it and reveals Ryan's name. "I wanted to see what the dinosaurs looked like at night," he explains with a shrug. "Spoiler alert, they look like bones."

Then Emma goes. She has more difficulty with the wall—she clarifies heights are not her strong suit—but really excels at the fan bit. After going through the water barrage, she is also soaked. Drying her hands, she picks up another bird and says, "This boy was king of his high school—literally. Duh, we know who this is." She goes over and kisses Blake full-on. Again, you all cheer as they plaster themselves to each other. It's about to become too long when they part, panting.

She unfolds the bird and her jaw drops. "It's Steve?"

You all look at him, and he goes sheepish. "Yeah, I was called King Steve in high school."

Emma turns back to Blake. "How was it not you?"

"Well, I was more of a loser in high school. I had a better time in college." He's pink.

Emma almost melts and walks back to the girls. "That's kind of sweet," she admits to you and Chrissy. She might feel good about her man's past, but you're not as happy. You too were a loser in high school, tormented by the popular boys and girls. It's hard to reconcile the Steve you know with the boys who used to make fun of you and your achievements in violin, which the administration just had to announce to the whole school, even though you'd asked them not to every time.

You head to the start of the course, still distracted. You make it down the wall and over the fire without harm, and stand in front of the fan like an immovable object. It's harder to make yourself run through the water, and you're coughing by the end, having been hit in the face a few times. "Sorry!" Ryan calls out, sounding relatively genuine. You wave it away as you dry your hands. You pick up the last bird and read, "This boy once street raced but got caught by the cops." You know it's Blake—besides being the last one, he'd mentioned fast cars the one time you'd talked to him—but you definitely don't want to kiss him.

You go up to Steve, who smiles. But you only give him a quick kiss before stepping away and unfolding the bird and saying flatly, "Blake."

The rest of the islanders start asking him questions but Steve touches your arm. "You okay?" He asks quietly.

You shrug, unable to look at him. You walk back to the girls and pretend to be interested in Blake's story, which you aren't following. When you all leave for the villa, you trail behind, deep in thought. Arriving back, you go to the pool and dip your feet in.

Another pair join yours and you look to see Steve sitting next to you. "What's up?" He asks. It's gentle.

"King Steve?"

He sighs. "Yeah, not my finest time in life."

You don't look at him. "Boys like you made my life a living hell in high school."

"I'm sorry. I wish I could go back and kick their asses."

You don't let yourself smile. "How do I know you're not still like that somewhere underneath?"

He takes your hand. "Can you look at me?" It takes a few seconds, but he waits patiently, and you eventually meet his gaze. His expression is soft and understanding. "That's a really valid question, and I wish I could prove it to you in an incontrovertible way. But all I can tell you is that there was a girl, a lot like you actually, who changed me for the better. She opened my eyes to all the consequences of my actions and I did my best to make them right and never do them again."

"Where's she then?"

He shrugs. "Chicago, maybe. Or Springfield. I don't know, we lost touch after high school. But what she taught me has always stayed with me. I don't let myself forget it." He gives you a small smile, which you return. "There's that beautiful smile. Missed it."

Your smile grows until it's full. "I'm sorry," you say. "That was a stupid thing to be upset about."

"No, it's not. Everything you feel matters. And how you feel matters to me." You lean against him. "You wanna tell me about it?"

"My feelings?"

"I was thinking high school, but that works too."

You exhale a small laugh. "Okay." So you do. You tell him all the good things and the bad things and the bittersweet things and the things you wish you could do over and the things you wouldn't change for a million dollars and the things you felt about all those things. All he does is listen.

Eventually, the sun sinks down and Chrissy interrupts to grab you and get ready. You give Steve a tight hug, thank him for listening, and walk away with her, leaving him to digest it all at the pool.

Chrissy gets you back into a good mood, and in the dressing room, you, her, and Emma bounce off each other to hype everyone up. You all help organize your looks and go to the bedroom. Steve walks up to you and kisses you on the cheek, murmuring that you look stunning. Your heart flip-flops as he escorts you outside.

For the evening, everyone hangs together again, this time on the sundeck. You lounge against Steve, who keeps his arm tight around you, and only participate sporadically, drained from talking so much earlier. Steve can tell and talks an extra amount so you don't have to. You rub your hand across his back in thanks, letting your fingers stray into his hair. He hums happily whenever you do.

The nightly yawning commences and everyone heads for bed. You almost fall asleep in the shower and drop into bed exhausted. Steve tucks you in close and asks if you still want the bedtime story. You nod, eyes closed, and listen to his quiet voice as he explains the Upside Down and how Eleven has joined the search for the Will but is also being hunted by government agents.

He's describing the sensory-deprivation tank Eleven uses to visit the Upside Down and find Will alive, when the lights go out. You're disappointed but know you'll get more of the story tomorrow.

You give Steve a soft kiss and thank him for the day. He just holds you closer, protecting you as you fall asleep.

;

A week later, after getting to know Steve better and him you, after more challenges and games and frighteningly little drama, it all changes.

It's the middle of the day. You and Steve are lounging around, talking infrequently, just making random comments here and there to pass the time. You like to ask each other bizarre questions, like if all you're food tasted like one thing for the rest of your life, what would that thing be? (You choose garlic while Steve chooses chocolate.) Or if you're a dishes or laundry person? (You're laundry and Steve's dishes. You do note the compatibility there.)

Then there's the sound of heels clicking down the trellis and a hesitant "hello!" A new girl emerges: short, brunette, petite features. Steve tenses beside you and you look at him.

"Oh my god," he mutters.

"What?"

"That's my ex."

"What?" You repeat in shock, but he's already striding across the backyard to the new girl. You follow quickly.

"Nancy?" At his voice, the girl turns to him and beams.

"Steve!" She shouts and throws her arms around him. He hesitates before putting his arms around her awkwardly and hugging her back.

"What are you doing here?" He asks when she pulls back. You've caught up to them, along with everyone else.

"Finding love, silly!" She titters, but it doesn't match her vibe. It feels fake. "Actually, finding you."

Your vision pinholes. You must falter on your feet because then Steve is next to you, holding your hand. "Me?"

She laughs, high-pitched. It really doesn't suit her. "Yes, you! You were always the one that got away."

"What?" Steve's baffled. "I am?"

"Mhm!" She turns to everyone. "Anyways, I'm Nancy!"

The other islanders crowd in and make their introductions. You lean over to Steve. "Is that the girl from high school? Who opened your eyes and all that?" He nods and you exhale heavily.

The producers sure got their drama.

Chrissy and Emma motion to you so you'll join them in the dressing room. You hold up a finger and turn to Steve. "You okay?" You ask soothingly.

He doesn't really look it, but he replies, "Yeah, yeah. Go ahead."

"Steve," you say sternly. He finally meets your gaze. "Honest?"

His face goes soft and he smiles. "Yeah. Just hurry back."

"Promise." You give him a quick kiss before rushing after the girls.

You catch up to them in the dressing room and stay quiet as you get ready. Chrissy and Emma pepper Nancy with questions, excited to have another person in the villa. They ask about Steve, and Nancy explains how she'd helped him change his ways. She tries to sound wistful while saying they lost touch after high school, but the whole thing feels forced. You're only listening to her as you do your makeup, and you know it's all bullshit of some sort. The only thing you can't figure out is why she's here and why she wants Steve back.

You meet the boys in the bedroom as usual. You walk right up to Steve and take his hand, asking silently if he's okay. He shrugs but gives you a small smile, which relieves you for right now. He leads you out of the villa with everyone else. Tonight's cheers is welcoming Nancy and wishing her luck on her Island of Love journey.

As expected, she asks Steve for a chat. You squeeze his hand to let him know he's got your support. He squeezes back before letting go and following Nancy to the sundeck. You join Chrissy and Ryan on the beanbags and try not to stare. You succeed in that, but it means you keep glancing over every few seconds to see how it's going.

Nancy is talking animatedly, using her hands and touching Steve a lot. Steve looks a bit uncomfortable and doesn't reciprocate, but he's listening intently. Chrissy and Ryan try to draw you into conversation but you're a lousy addition so they taper off their attempts.

Eventually, they stand. Nancy gives Steve a hug, which he returns half-heartedly. Then he's speed-walking to you. You stand up to meet him. "You okay?" You ask.

He doesn't answer, just pulls you into a hug. "I'll tell you later," he whispers in your ear and you nod. Holding him tight, you see Nancy eyeing you from the kitchen, blank expression on her face. You can't tell if she's paying attention to your hug or lost in thought.

Steve leans back and asks if you'd sit on the daybed with him. You agree and he leads you there. He has you sit first, which you do against the headboard, he lays next to you with his head in your lap. You stroke his hair and he doesn't talk and you don't make him. You just sit in silence together, listening to the other islanders chatter and the wind blow through the trees.

You notice Steve yawning and poke him into sitting up. This time, you stand and haul him up, making him smile. You two walk back to the villa and get ready for bed. When you get into bed and snuggle up to Steve, he continues his story. He's telling you about the Upside Down creature Dustin had found and brought home, which Will identifies, when the lights go out. Steve has you slide down with him, then pulls the covers up over you both.

"How was your conversation with Nancy?" You ask in a whisper.

"Weird," he replies. "She's so...different from high school."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Not necessarily. But she worked hard as editor of the school newspaper and last I knew, she wanted to become a real reporter. Now she's told me she hated being in journalism while in Chicago and kept thinking about me. She knew I was going on the show and applied to be the bombshell."

"I'm assuming the producers picked her because she's your ex."

"Must be. This is not her scene. I really don't know what happened, but something must have. Our whole conversation felt so forced. It was like I could tell she didn't really believe what she was saying, but was determined to say it anyways." He makes a frustrated noise.

"What did she say?"

"She said she wanted to find me and try a relationship again. She knows I've changed and wants to see if we could work out this time. She kept saying I was 'the one that got away'. I don't even think that's true."

You hum, nervously chewing on your cheek.

"Hey," he says softly, turning your head so you look at him. "I don't want to be with Nancy. I want to be with you."

"What if you change your mind?" You fret.

"I did love Nancy in high school. But this Nancy is not that one, and this one is no match for you. Neither of them are. And I got over her a long time ago. If I hadn't, I wouldn't be on here."

You're only half-convinced. "I don't know."

Instead of speaking, he leans forward and kisses you sweetly. Pressing his forehead against yours, he reassures, "I'm yours."

You finally smile and nod against him. He sighs in relief and removes the covers. You cuddle with him, and he uses both arms to hold you close, resting his cheek against the crown of your head. "It's fucking hot under there," he mutters.

You laugh.

;

The next morning, after Steve lets you sleep in and makes you coffee—just the tiniest bit too much milk, but you tell him it's perfect—you two are in the pool. He's been teaching you to swim all week, and he's a good teacher, but you're distracted by Nancy, who has pulled both Ryan and Blake for individual chats. Chrissy looks nervous while Emma just looks peeved.

You jolt when Steve says your name. "You wanna try?"

"I guess so." You take a breath and go under, letting your body rise to the surface and starting a basic stroke. You've got the arm movements, and you're going forward, but you keep forgetting to breathe. When you burst from the water to inhale desperately for the third time, Steve joins you.

"Maybe we can try something a little easier," he suggests, and demonstrates a backstroke. You're a little nervous about being on your back so Steve has you float for a bit, holding you up at first before letting go. It feels nice, the water covering your ears, knowing Steve is a step away, watching the clouds move. It's the first moment of peace you've had since Nancy got here.

"Okay," you hear Steve say, muffled by the water, and you stand. "Your floating is an a-plus. Let's do a backstroke."

You gently lean back into the water and move your arms and legs as Steve showed you. It takes a minute, but you eventually feel yourself moving backwards. When you go far enough to know you're near the wall, you stand up and lift your hands triumphantly.

"You did it!" Steve yells in excitement.

"I did it!" You echo him as he swims to you, lifting you up by your waist when he reaches you. You laugh happily as he spins you in the water, loving the joy and pride he has for you. When he brings you back down, you kiss him. This time, you push it further, swiping your tongue across his bottom lip. He opens for you and as your tongues dance around each other, Steve moves backwards until he's touching the side of the pool and you can wrap your legs around him.

"Hello!"

You and Steve startle back, turning your heads and looking up at Nancy standing about a foot away from you two. She's smiling, but it looks more like a grimace. "Steve, can I steal her away?"

"Me?" You ask in surprise. She nods and you reluctantly untangle from Steve and get out of the pool. He rests his head on the side and looks sad. "I'll come back soon," you say before joining Nancy, who leads you to the kitchen.

"Fruit?" She asks innocently.

"Sure." You sound as suspicious as you feel. "What did you want to talk about?"

She hands you a bunch of grapes and eats a few before answering. "Just wanted to see where your head is at with Steve."

"Well, I like him, and we're coupled up."

"And he likes you?"

"Yeah," you say confidently but warily, more so about Nancy's intentions.

"We'll see," she replies lightly and before you can respond, she continues. "He's changed so much since high school."

"I know. He told me about that."

"He said what I did?" She says it with expectation, not pleasant surprise. You nod. "Good. We were really close. I was so sad when we didn't stay connected."

"Steve said you went to school to become a reporter?"

She waves a hand dismissively. "Yeah, but I didn't really like it. Didn't know what else to do, so saw Steve was gonna be here and decided to follow."

She's definitely lying, but you can't figure out why. There's something in her eyes, beneath the fake cheer, something akin to fear or desperation. Maybe she's running from something, not running to Steve. Maybe she's scared of going forwards so she's going backwards.

"That's cool," you eventually say, keeping it simple. "What else do you do?"

"Oh, I like to read, work out. My girl—" She cuts off abruptly. "My friend and I used to watch horror movies together. She adored them but I hated all the jump scares. Comedies are much more my speed."

You can see through that changed word choice but don't pry. "I like horror and comedy. But mysteries are where it's really at."

"Too complicated for me." She almost sounds pained as she says it. You don't believe her one bit.

Thankfully you're saved from continuing the conversation by Chrissy and Emma, who are taking you to the dressing room. You stand and scan for Steve. When you catch his gaze, you give him an apologetic look. He waves it away and smiles, motioning for you to go with the girls. You do so and get ready with them. You keep watching Nancy for more slips, but she's back to her fully fake self, chattering on to the rest of you about absolutely nothing.

You lead Steve directly to the daybed when he walks you outside. "That was such a weird conversation," you say after you've settled. "She had this slip-up that I think I understand but I'm not sure. One word change does not a queer person make."

He looks at you with a raised eyebrow. "Queer?" You nod. "That's new."

"Guess it's a new thing. But I think she's afraid of coming out of the closet."

Before Steve can reply, a phone chimes. "I got a text!" Nancy yells. "Islanders, please go to the fire pit immediately."

You and Steve look at each other warily before standing and joining everyone else at the fire pit. Once you're all sitting, Nancy gets another text. "Nancy, you must now choose the boy you would like to couple up with." She stands and moves in front of the fire pit.

"I would like to couple up with this boy because he is the reason I came here." Your stomach goes into free fall. "He's smart, handsome, funny, and I'm so glad we were able to reconnect. I've wanted to try this again for a long time." She's lying through her teeth. "So the boy I would like to couple up with is...Steve."

Everyone claps awkwardly. You look at Steve, who seems to be as sad as you feel. He gives you a kiss on the cheek and whispers, "I'll be back, beautiful. Promise."

You watch him stand and walk over to Nancy, who hugs him. He hugs her back, uncomfortable, before stepping back. He keeps his eyes on you but you can't stand the sight of them as a couple so you look away. Then your phone dings. "You are now single and vulnerable. Good luck."

Unnecessary.

Nancy drags Steve away as Chrissy and Emma comfort you. You don't cry, but you're definitely upset. You don't talk much, and they eventually trail off. When they leave, you walk to the villa with your head held high and don't look at Nancy and Steve. You shower and get into bed before everyone else. You close your eyes and pretend to be asleep so no one will talk to you.

You don't let the tears fall until after lights out. You miss Steve beside you, his arms around you, his heart beating steadily against your cheek. You miss his voice in your ear, telling his bedtime story, most of all.

;

There's something buzzing in your bed. You grope around until you find the vibrating object—your phone—and squint through the brightness. You received a text: Please gather all the girls in the dressing room. Stay quiet!

You breathe deep before sneaking out from under the covers and tip-toeing over to Chrissy's bed. You gently jostle her awake, shushing her as soon as she opens her eyes. "The girls have to go to the dressing room," you whisper. "Can you grab Nancy? I'll get Emma."

She nods and stealthily moves to Nancy and Steve's bed while you go to Emma and Blake's. You have to keep her quiet as well and motion for her to join you in the dressing room.

When you're all there, blinking and confused in the darkness, you get another text. You read it out softly: "Girls, you are now headed to Casa Amor! Please gather only necessary items and meet your cars outside. Shh! Don't wake the boys."

You all squeal silently and rush around for the things you absolutely need in Casa. You slip back into the bedroom to get your water bottle. Steve moves in his bed, catching your eye. He looks so peaceful, so innocent, while asleep. You want nothing more than to lean over and kiss him awake.

But you can't. So you grab the bottle and scramble back to the dressing room, packing a few other things before meeting the girls downstairs. You all get out of the villa and into the waiting SUVs quickly and quietly, only screaming in excitement when the doors have closed. You and Nancy seem to be less enthusiastic about the news. You're sure she wanted to strike up with Steve again. You're just glad you don't have to seem them parade around as a couple now, though you do wish you could've spoken to him about last night.

Regardless, you're on the way now. Steve is coupled up with Nancy and Casa Amor wasn't going to give you the opportunity to take him back. Plus, you're single and as the text said, vulnerable, so you do have to up your game. So you decide to leave thoughts of Steve at the villa and start fresh at Casa. Who knows? Maybe you'll find a better guy than Steve.

As impossible as that seems.

All four of you marvel at the new space—it's a lot similar to the villa, but you also haven't been outside of the villa in about two weeks, so anything new is a change. When you walk outside into the backyard, four guys greet you.

You all scream hello's and they introduce themselves. There's Max, a blonde surfer from California (talk about a cliché); Carson, a preppy boy from New York City; Lee, a good ol' Southern boy from Louisiana; and Eddie, a metalhead from Chicago. You're drawn to Eddie immediately—he has gorgeous wavy black hair that goes past his shoulders, tattoos covering his arms and chest, and black-painted nails to go with the black swim trunks. He could come off as scary, but his warm smile and kind eyes completely counteract the dark aesthetic.

He seems to notice your gaze and walks over to you with a smirk. "Like what you see, princess?"

Ah, a boy who uses pet names. You like it. "Maybe," you say vaguely. "As first impressions go."

"Well, I like what I see." He smiles cheekily. "You're stunning."

You blush. "Thanks." You give your name.

"Oh, I've been watching you." There's a glint in his eye. "Care for a chat?" You nod, and he leads you to the sundeck that's almost identical to the villa's, just opposite. He sits easily and pats the space next to him, and you join him, staying sitting up as he lounges back.

"So what do you already know about me?" You ask.

"Lemme see. You're a musician from Colorado, a violinist. Want to be in an orchestra someday. Learning how to swim. Likes roller-skating. Coupled up with Steve."

"All correct, except for the last one."

He looks at you in surprise. "You two were solid though."

"Yeah," you sigh, "until Nancy stole him last night. She had to choose who she wanted to couple up with."

"Guess that wasn't a shock."

"Actually, I was blindsided," you say sarcastically. "I never would've thought she'd pick the guy she kept saying she came on the show for."

Eddie laughs but there's still sympathy in his gaze. "I'm sorry, angel. That sucks."

You look away, not wanting to be caught up about Steve. "Thanks. But tell me who you are, Eddie."

"I'm from Chicago. I'm also a musician; I play guitar in a band kind of known around the dive bars of the city. I'm a certified metalhead and love rock music. I also love high fantasy shit and DM D&D campaigns for my friends." He doesn't have one ounce of shame.

"That's cool!" You exclaim genuinely. "I may play primarily classical music but I also love rock and pop. Who's your favorite classic rock band?"

He muses. "That's a tough question. Dio, maybe? Or Metallica. Or Motley Crüe." He goes pink when you laugh. "There's a lot of good options," he argues.

"I agree," you reply. "It's hard to pick just one."

"What's yours?"

"Probably Aerosmith or Journey. I also like AC/DC."

"Solid choices," he says, impressed. "Pop-wise?"

This is when you blush. "I'm a Taylor Swift lover if we're going modern. But classic it's gotta be Madonna or Stevie Nicks."

He just smiles. "I don't judge. I'm not a Swiftie myself but she can write a song. And I love Fleetwood Mac."

"They're so good!" You smile back at him. "I've never played D&D, though."

"Not many people have," he responds amiably. "It's really for the nerds out there who love to act that shit out."

You laugh. "I'm usually good just reading it. I've been known to champion some high fantasy series." At his raised eyebrow, you clarify, "Lord of the Rings mostly. Never was a Game of Thrones fan."

"I like both, but LotR definitely tops GoT." You giggle as he uses the letters instead of the words for the titles. "Movies are where it's at too."

"Agreed. But those Hobbit movies didn't match up."

"We don't really talk about those," Eddie says gravely and you laugh again.

Then Emma interrupts you. "Just gonna hoard him all day?" She teases you. You roll your eyes fondly as Eddie laughs. "Come on, we're all around the fire pit."

You and Eddie follow her and join the group for a lively discussion. It's not really centered around anything in particular, just speaking when you can about the current topic. Eddie learns Chrissy plays drums in her own rock band and you giggle at his starstruck look. The new boys learn Emma has traveled the world, and Carson seems to take an interest. You learn that Max has won surfing championships and Lee's family owns a stable of horses that specialize in working on movie sets.

You also note the girls' varying interests in getting to know the boys. Unsurprisingly, Nancy is completely closed off, still participating but not inviting more conversation. Chrissy is also mostly closed off, clearly loyal to Ryan, though you think she and Eddie would hit it off if she was open to it. Emma is going for it, obviously not thinking about Blake too much. And you're somewhere in the middle, wanting to be open but unable to stop thinking about Steve. Even though he is not your partner.

At some point, Nancy stands and stiltedly says it's time for y'all to get ready. You, Chrissy, and Emma follow her into the house, and she seems to let out a huge sigh of relief when in the dressing room. You keep an eye on her as you all get ready, and she seems much more at ease when surrounded by the girls, not talking a lot but not being too fake anymore. Maybe she spent all her energy in the villa and doesn't have anymore for Casa? Maybe she thinks she's in the clear with Steve and so doesn't want to even try here? Whatever it is, you resolve to make sure she's not uncomfortable while here in Casa—girls support girls, even if they have stolen your couple.

You get back outside and cheers drinks to Casa Amor. Everyone splits off and it turns into a kind of speed-dating: the boys rotate around the girls to get to know all of you. It's an odd setup but not a terrible one. For one thing, you find out you're not into Max—the not knowing how to swim thing kind of puts a damper on his favorite subject of surfing.

For another, it's a good thing Carson is not your type, because he spends the whole time with you talking about his conversation with Emma and listing things he admires about her. It's rather sweet.

For the last, you're ambivalent about Lee, who is certainly a gentleman but also hasn't done a fucking thing in his life except work at his family's stable and become quite a good equestrian. But you also like horses and would ask him more about film sets since you love movies.

After talking to the three of them, you take a breather and sit at the pool, dipping your feet in. You're lost in thought about Steve swimming laps, Steve teaching you how to swim, Steve kissing you in the water, Steve, Steve, Steve—

"Penny for your thoughts?" Eddie says, startling you. He sits beside you, setting aside his shoes and socks and rolling up his pant legs to also put his feet in the water.

You shrug. "Don't need a penny," you reply lightly.

He looks out at the horizon. "You miss him?"

Tears rush to your eyes but you will them away. Choked up, you just nod.

Eddie smiles kindly. "I get it."

You breathe and clear your throat. "So," you say, changing the subject, "how are you feeling about the girls?"

"Well," he draws out. "Nancy was nice but didn't seem interested in talking much. Emma's cool but kept talking about Carson."

You snort. "Carson kept talking about her to me."

"See, that's cute," Eddie says with a grin. "I like Chrissy but she's also pretty closed to getting to know people."

"And me?" You ask, with feigned lightness.

"Who?" He smirks and then laughs when you shove him. "I like you."

"I like you too," you admit softly. But...

"There’s some big shoes to fill," he replies.

You half-smile and he knocks his shoulder into yours. You knock him back. Then you yawn and Eddie helps you up, joining you on the way back to the house. The other islanders trail after you and you all get ready for bed.

You think in the shower. You do like Eddie, he makes you laugh and you have similar interests, but you don't have that physical attraction you have with Steve. You wish Chrissy was more open, because she and Eddie would really get along, and maybe you'd have a better connection with Lee? By the time you're done, you've decided to flirt more with Lee and Eddie, and see if that physical connection will spark tomorrow.

You, Chrissy, and Nancy all sleep alone, while Carson and Emma share a bed. There's giggling from it for a while, but no moaning or bed shaking, so it seems innocent for now. You sleep fitfully, the new bed weird to be sleeping in and missing Steve's comforting presence.

In the morning, you don't even try to sleep in; you just get up and go make your coffee, knowing you're gonna need it. You sit with the girls and discuss the night before. Emma goes red when she talks about sharing a bed with Carson, and you say you want to get to know Eddie and Lee more. Nancy and Chrissy both confirm they're sticking to their couples and won't be swayed.

After breakfast, you pull Lee for a chat and see if you can work some magic. However, it doesn't help; it's a super dull conversation, even as he tells stories from film sets he's worked on with his horses. He doesn't seem interested in making those anecdotes entertaining, and becomes much more animated when he talks about riding competitions. Which you won't judge him for, but it doesn't really match up with what you want from the conversation. Thankfully, you're interrupted by Emma yelling that she got a text.

"Islanders, please gather together in an open space. It's time for the Raunchy Races, the Villa vs. Casa Amor battle!" She reads. You all come together in the grassy area and sit on benches, tense and ready.

Chrissy's phone dings. She reads quickly, "The tallest islander must kiss the shortest. That's Nancy!"

"And Lee!" Emma calls out, and Lee rushes over to Nancy, kissing her. She stops it almost immediately, her smile looking more like a grimace. Chrissy gets another text, "The Villa were the fastest!”

You all groan. "Who's the tallest over there?" Someone asks.

"Blake," Emma answers, nonplussed.

Your phone goes off. You read, "The blonde islanders must kiss each other."

Chrissy and Carson rush to each other and kiss hastily. It's also short and when Chrissy goes back to her seat, she looks worried. "That's Ryan," she explains.

You get the result text. "The Villa were the fastest," You say glumly. Chrissy becomes even more despondent.

Another text chimes and Eddie reads, "The two oldest male and female islanders must demonstrate reverse cowgirl!"

Emma and Carson both stand up and run to the open area, getting into position so quickly it's impressive.

Eddie gets the next text and says excitedly, "Casa were the fastest!" Everyone cheers and Emma and Carson high-five.

Another phone goes off. Nancy holds hers up and says, "The male islanders with a birthday in the second half of the year and the female islanders with a birthday in the first half of the year must do the Cupid Shuffle. What the hell is that?"

You laugh and stand up. "I know it. Let's go!" Chrissy, Max, and Lee all join you. You call out the moves and demonstrate them, having the others follow. Soon enough, all four of you are doing the Cupid Shuffle easily and singing the words to the song. The rest of the islanders are clapping along. Once you've done the sequence about three times, you stop and double over in laughter, and the others join you.

Nancy gets another text and says, "Casa were the fastest!" You all scream in excitement. Chrissy gives you a hug and all the boys high-five you. You bow for your dance knowledge and everyone cheers loudly, making you laugh as you sit back down.

Lee gets a text. "The girl with the highest body count has to kiss the chest of the boy with the lowest ten times."

You motion the girls to huddle quickly. You recount numbers in hushed and determine it's Emma. You break apart and the boys point at Max, who's gone red. Emma rushes up to him and kisses his chest the ten times, smearing lipgloss across it. She eventually leans back and admires her handiwork. She gives Max a wink and he reddens even further. She flits back to her seat next to Carson, who gives Max a stink eye. Max sits back down warily and you snicker at all the forces working against him for that one.

Lee then reads the result, "The Villa were the fastest."

Everyone grumbles. "Who even was that about over there?" Emma asks sourly.

"I don't know," you reply. "Maybe Blake?"

"Nah," Emma says, waving it away. "Gotta be Ryan."

Chrissy harrumphs.

Max gets the next text. "The most musical islanders must kiss each other for ten seconds."

"That's you!" Chrissy points at you. "And Eddie!"

You both stand up and meet in the middle. You kiss, drawing it out for the ten seconds to see if you can strike that missing spark. While Eddie's lips are soft and warm, and he's good at using them, unfortunately it doesn't do anything for you. It's just flat.

When the other islanders reach ten in their counting, you and Eddie lean back. You both look at each other in vague disappointment. Sitting back down, Max gets the result, "Casa were the fastest!"

Emma gets the next text and reads, "The boy with the best hair must kiss the girl of his choice. Obviously that's Eddie!" Eddie then gets up and rushes over to Chrissy, who seems surprised by the pick. He kisses her and she kisses him back, almost like she can't help it. When they break apart, they're both panting and Chrissy is pink in the cheeks. Eddie has a smirk when he turns around and walks back to his seat.

If you thought that wasn't enough to seal the lack of attraction, all you could think about during it was that Steve was the one picking the girl and doing the kissing in the villa. Your heart squeezes in despair, dramatically. Then Emma reads the result, "The Villa were the fastest," and you sink into the blues farther. You chance a peek at Nancy, who seems tense but not very upset by the notion of Steve winning.

Carson receives the last text, "The girl with the best smile must kiss the boy of their choice."

Everyone looks at you. "What?" You ask.

"That's you, babe!" Chrissy says. You're shocked but still want to win so stand up. With Eddie, Carson, and Max all out, you run up to Lee. He welcomes your kiss but it's terrible—he has no control over his tongue and it's gross-sloppy. Plus, you feel nothing. You lean back just as quickly and speed-walk back to your seat.

There's a final ding. Everyone holds their breath. Carson says, "Casa were the fastest! With the most points, they have won an 80s-themed party for tonight!"

You all burst into excited cheers. You, Chrissy, and Emma all hug tightly and the boys all high-five. There's a chant of "Casa! Casa! Casa!" as you all run back to the house and get ready for the party.

The girls dress in throwback outfits and put on neon makeup, teasing your hair to be big and wild. Chrissy wears all black lace, à la Madonna. Emma chooses a tight and ruffled prom-esque dress. Nancy goes for the day-to-night vibe and wears a blazer over a pencil skirt, complete with shoulder pads. And you go with shiny black leggings and an oversized leather jacket covering a black corset top.

You take a ton of photos together before meeting the boys outside. They all look kind of boring, except for Eddie, who's appropriately wearing a Metallica tee under a leather jacket under a denim vest, with skinny jeans and a studded black belt.

"Great outfit," you compliment when you reach him.

"Thanks!" He responds happily. "You look good too. Went all out."

"Why not?" You shrug with a smile. "We love a theme. Seen Chrissy yet?" He shakes his head and then scans the backyard. You know he's finally spotted her when his jaw drops. "Yes, she is Madonna," you tease.

"Wow." It's all he can seem to say. Then he's looking back at you sheepishly. "Hey, about the challenge—"

"Oh my god," you interrupt, "no worries. Thinking you didn't feel anything during our kiss either?"

"No." His mouth turns down.

"But you did with Chrissy?" He blushes and just nods. You laugh. "As I expected. I'm glad. I thought you two would be a good couple."

"She still doesn't wanna really open up, though," he replies sadly.

You think for a minute, watching him watch her. "Let's strike a deal," you say quietly. The mics will pick up the conversation but hopefully no other islanders can hear. Eddie looks at you in interest. "I can't go back to the villa without a partner, I was left single. Carson's taken, I don't like Max, and Lee has turned out to not be my type. We may not have any chemistry—" you point between you and him, "—but I'd rather bring a friend back with me than someone else. I'll bring you back to the villa and give you more time to crack on with Chrissy."

"Yes!" Eddie answers in a rush. "Deal."

"But," you continue sternly, “you leave her alone if she’s happy with Ryan. And if you do get the chance to be with Chrissy, you've gotta be the most gentlemanly gentleman to ever exist."

"Promise," he replies. "Cross my heart."

"Good." You hold out a hand and he shakes it. "It's a deal then." You both nod at each other before letting go.

Then a speaker blares Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance With Somebody" and everyone moves to the constructed dance floor. You all groove to the playlist, which is surprisingly good for being made by reality show producers. You, Chrissy, and Emma all dance together a lot, when Emma isn't dancing with Carson. You even pull Nancy in and she actually starts to move with the beat. Eddie is a terrible dancer but he's funny about it, and it makes you feel lighter than you have since having Steve stolen.

After the dancing ends, you conspire with Emma and Nancy to pull Max, Carson, and Lee into chats so Chrissy will be left to talk with Eddie. Even thought you have to endure more horse stories from Lee—he was absolutely the horse girl of his high school—you see Chrissy and Eddie having a great time. He seems to keep making her laugh and she's blushing the whole time but talking animatedly too. Your matchmaking skills are, well, unmatched.

You still miss Steve.

;

The next day, it's easy sailing. Chrissy and Eddie end up talking more and you join them occasionally. Emma and Carson are wrapped up in each other, being sickeningly sweet. Max and Lee spend most of the day working out while Nancy sits alone, staring out at the view.

At some point, you go over and sit beside her. You don't say anything at first and neither does she, just enjoying the silence together.

"I'm sorry about taking Steve," she eventually says quietly.

You don't look at her but reply, "It's okay. It's Island of Love not Island of Friends." She cracks a small smile. "Besides, it's not like you weren't upfront about it. You did spend the whole time saying that's what you came on the show to do."

She moves her head back and forth in a so-so motion. "Yeah, I guess." She sighs. "I'm just not sure what I'm doing here."

"What any of us are doing: finding love," you say. "Going back to something that made you happy to see if it still does is a hard thing to do."

"That's just it. I don't know if it does anymore."

Your stomach jumps at the confession but try not to show it. "You owed it to yourself to try, and that's good enough for me." She gives you a grateful look. You pat her shoulder gently before leaving and seeking out Chrissy and Eddie.

Eventually it's time to get ready and so you go inside. But then there's a text to Nancy: "Islanders, please gather your items and go outside to the waiting cars. You're going back to the Villa tonight." You and Chrissy are both excited, while Emma is ambivalent and Nancy doesn't seem to notice at all. She's been lost in thought since your conversation with her.

You all change quickly and grab your stuff and get to the cars. The boys are already gone, back to the villa before you. When you arrive, a text to you directs all the girls to go to the fire pit immediately. Once you're seated, the Casa Amor boys file out of the house and line up in front of the fire pit.

Host Naomi makes a reappearance. "Hello!" She calls out. "How was your time at Casa Amor, lovelies?" You all chorus back "good". "Well, it's time to decide whether you are going to recouple or stay loyal to your Villa partner. Our resident singleton gets to go first." She points at you.

You stand and take a breath. "Since I'm single," you say,  "there is no boy to be loyal to. So I am going to recouple. I want to couple up with this boy because he's handsome, smart, and has a rocking personality." You smirk when Eddie rolls his eyes. "He has the best hair and kept me in stitches the whole time at Casa. So the boy I will be coupling up with is...Eddie."

He beams and moves over to you, giving you a kiss on the cheek and sitting down with you. You glance at Chrissy and see a flash of disappointment cross over her face before it's gone. Interesting.

Naomi points to Emma next. "Emma, please choose what you would like to do."

"This was a hard decision, but I've chosen to recouple." Carson looks relieved after the first sentence. "I liked who I was coupled up with but I like this boy more. He's funny and entertaining and absolutely gorgeous. We have so much in common and want to get to know each other more still. I'm really excited about seeing where this goes." She's blushing. "So the boy I would like to couple up with is...Carson."

Carson has the biggest smile known to man as he walks over to Emma and gives her a hug. They sit down, holding hands.

Naomi asks both Chrissy and Nancy what they'd like to do and they both choose to stay loyal. You all call out goodbyes to Max and Lee, and they wave as they leave.

"Now let's see what the boys have chosen to do," Naomi says dramatically. "Up first is Blake."

You all turn to the trellis as steps coming walking down it—two pairs. Blake appears with a new girl on his arm. You look at Emma, who catches your glance and shrugs. The new couple makes their way to the fire pit and stands next to Naomi.

"Blake, you have decided to recouple," Naomi points out. "Why?"

"I had a really good connection with Maggie and wanted to keep exploring it. I felt bad for possibly hurting Emma, but it looks like she found new happiness as well." You're impressed by the diplomatic answer. Naomi is not.

"Emma," she says, clearly trying to create drama, "how do you feel?"

"Honestly?" She replies. "I feel relieved. I was worried about hurting Blake too but couldn't give up the chance to try things with Carson. I'm glad he found Maggie." She smiles at Maggie, who smiles back.

"Alright." Naomi's definitely frustrated. You snicker and Eddie bumps his shoulder against yours to agree. She continues, "Let's see how Ryan chose."

Chrissy sits up straight. When you hear two pairs of shoes, you don't turn to watch the trellis entrance like everyone else—you watch her. You see the moment she sees Ryan and then the moment she sees the girl with him and then the moment she realizes what that means. Your heart constricts and Eddie grabs your hand and holds on tight. He's also looking at Chrissy, face reflecting her utter despair.

You leave him to watch her and finally check out just who Ryan has brought back from Casa Amor. She's another blonde, tall and skinny, who walks like a model. She's beautiful but there's very little behind her eyes.

You know you, Eddie, Emma, and probably also Nancy are giving him the evil eye. He notices and winces under the stare but still walks down with his head held high. Naomi is over the moon. "Ryan, it looks like you've recoupled with Sam. Why?"

"Well, we had a really good time in Casa together and I wanted to keep that going," he offers. It's weak and he knows it, so he tries to add, "I think we have a lot in common and I really like her."

"You notice that Chrissy has chosen to stay loyal to you. How do you feel about that?"

"I feel bad, of course, but she also had the chance to find someone new, so it's not my fault if she didn't. Shouldn't she be happy I found someone with a better connection?"

You and Eddie hold each other's hands in a death grip. Emma hisses in seething anger. If looks could kill, Ryan would've been obliterated a long time ago.

Naomi turns to Chrissy with a fake sympathetic expression. "Chrissy, how do you feel about this recoupling?"

"Um," her voice is wobbly, and you have to hold Eddie back from going to her, "not great. It kinda really sucks actually."

Naomi nods solemnly. "Ryan and Sam, please sit down." They do, next to Nancy, who scoots as far away as she can. Everyone is still staring at them with daggers until Naomi says, "Last but not least, let's see what Steve has decided to do."

That gets your attention and you whip your head to the trellis. There's a weird buzzing in your ears as you anticipate his appearance. When he finally emerges, you suck in a breath. He looks as good as ever and his hair is perfect and there's a girl on his arm—

There's a girl on his arm.

She's pretty with an awkward gait, crazy brown hair in a bob and freckles across her nose. She's tall and thin and has a really nice smile, even if it is pretty tense-looking. The buzzing in your ears dies away as they make their way to the fire pit. Something grabs your attention.

Nancy has gasped super loudly. But she's not looking at Steve.

Steve and the new girl finally get to where Naomi is. "Steve," she says, "we see you have recoupled. Why that choice?"

Steve doesn't reply for a minute. You tear your eyes away from the girl to look at him, finding in surprise that he's looking at you. His face is sad and his shoulders have drooped and he keeps moving his gaze between you and Eddie, like he's trying to understand.

The new girl eventually bumps him and he clears his throat, looking over your head. "Robin and I really got along in Casa Amor and I wanted to keep exploring it. I am sorry to Nancy, but we weren't even coupled up for a day when the girls left for Casa."

You look at Nancy, who still has her eyes on Robin. Robin is looking back at her with oddly apologetic eyes.

"Nancy," Naomi says, making Nancy snap her gaze to the host. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm not sure," she stutters out. "This is...a lot."

"Absolutely," Naomi replies gravely. "And this is it for me. I will leave you to it and see you later."

Everyone half-heartedly says goodbye and you all deal with the fallout from Casa Amor.

part two

[switchedandbewitched]

Switched and Bewitched

Chapter 5: That jacket with that skirt?

Read more on AO3!

“I think all of you are ready,” Timothy proclaimed. 

“Really?” Fred asked. “You’re serious? You’re not just joking?”

“I am serious.”

“Like, Groovy!” Shaggy said.

“Please, guys, this is a very important excursion. To collect clues,” Velma reminded them. 

“We have to have a little fun, or we’ll lose our minds,” Daphne argued. 

“I am certain you can have fun and collect clues,” Timothy responded. He tossed Fred some keys. 

“Fred, there is something waiting for you in the g-garage. I think you will find it quite to your liking.”

Fred flashed a wide grin and jumped to his feet so quickly the dining room chair flew backwards with a loud squeak. 

 “Ah-ah! Not so fast, Fred. You all have the knowledge to fly under the radar b-but you don’t have...  the look. Your assistants are waiting for you in your rooms with some 21st century apparel. And then you can meet in the g-garage.” 

Daphne returned to her room where she found her assistant, a preppy blonde whose name she could never remember, holding what seemed to be a whole new wardrobe. The clothes were all zipped in designer bags so Daphne couldn’t see what fashion disaster Tim’s crew had in store for her. She took the bags from Preppy Blonde and scurried into her room. 

“This is what they’re wearing these days?” Daphne shouted into the hallway, staring down at a lavender t-shirt dress.  “I’ve never heard of the brand ‘C.L. Magnus’.” 

She laughed. “Totally! This is considered very fashionable. You can leave it as is or throw a belt on to jazz it up. Scarf?” 

Daphne took the green scarf from her hand and wrapped it around her neck. “It just seems a little, I don’t know, plain. Do you have anything else?”

“Er, uh...,” Preppy paused. Her disappointment that Daphne wasn’t satisfied on the first try was written all over her face. “Like, yeah, totally Ms. Blake. Nooo worries. Be back in a sec!” She disappeared down the hallway only to reappear with more designer bags in tow. Flashing Daphne a perfect smile, she unzipped another bag and held up a lantern sleeve dress, gesturing like Vanna White. “Well? Maybe this?”

“Too poofy,” Daphne responded, hand on her hip. “Fancier than the first one and less... voluminous than that one.” Preppy held up a jumpsuit in a slightly darker shade of purple. “I don’t really feel like wearing pants, Prep -- Perhaps another dress?”

“Can I show you a dress-shirt combo?”

“I guess, I’m not quite sure what you mean --”

Preppy pulled out a light purple long sleeve shirt and dark purple pinafore dress. “This doesn’t totally match what I had in your fashion profile but I snatched it up just in case you --”

“Love it. I love it. I’ll take that.”

“Perfect!” Preppy squealed, handing her the clothes and a pair of lavender ankle boots. “Now for your hair. I’m thinking loose waves and some curtain bangs.” She pulled out a barrel brush and blow dryer from her bag. “This is, like, going to be so totally fun!” 

Shaggy’s assistant was named Greg and was much less chatty than Daphne’s assistant. He had simply gestured to the closet and looked at Shaggy before darting off to address something he heard over his earpiece.

“Like, this is pretty alright, Scoob,” Shaggy said and turned around to face Scooby-Doo. His green t-shirt had been replaced with a button down of the same color and his baggy bell bottoms were now fitted slacks. In the closet were also leather sneakers and a grey cardigan. 

“Rooking rood, Raggy. Rat rabout re?” Scooby asked, doing a little twirl in his new, but identical, collar. 

“Great, Scooby. You look great, too.” 

“Well, Fred, your outfit is fairly timeless, if I’m honest, but we have to make a few changes,” Fred’s assistant told him. He was a stocky fellow and didn’t appear to know much about fashion himself so Fred hesitated to take his word. “Namely, the ascot. The ascot has to go.”

“No! Not my ascot!” Fred said, clutching at his neck. 

“I’m afraid so. We’ve hung your clothes in your closet, please take a look.”

Fred found pairs of dark blue jeans alongside loose white button downs and orange t-shirts. Fred got dressed and buttoned the shirt up just enough that the orange peeked through at the top. 

“Why don’t you just tuck the front of the shirt in a bit? It’ll add a bit of style but still look effortless, I promise,” The assistant said. 

Fred raised an eyebrow but did as he was told then patted his ascot, a forlorn look on his face. “I’ll miss you buddy.” 

“You’re kidding me,” Velma said. 

“Please, Ms. Dinkley. I really don’t want to argue with you and it is imperative you blend in. Not only blend it, it is imperative you look older as well. I understand you will be eighteen in just a few weeks but someone your age should still be in high school and if you are running around town it might draw unwanted attention,” Marcie said, holding out a pair of wide leg paperbag pants and a stylishly slouchy orange sweater.  They’d been going back and forth about this for ten minutes. 

“You barely look 18 yourself! I can’t believe this.”

“Ahem, I am 18, Ms. Dinkley, thank you. Please wear the clothes.”

Velma sighed deeply and snatched the clothes from her hands. She lovingly set her red skirt and orange turtleneck on her bed before stepping into her new clothes. There was a full length mirror on the back of the door and Velma looked at herself hesitantly. Well, maybe it’s not so bad, she thought. 

Velma stepped back into the hallway. "Are you happy now, Marcie?"

"Uh, well, yes. You look... you look very good Ms. Dinkley," she responded. If Velma wasn't mistaken, Marcie was blushing slightly. "It’s just that the shirt is supposed to be tucked into the pants.”

“Oh,” Velma said. She carefully tucked the sweater into her pants and looked up. “I never wear pants.”

Marcie handed her a pair of maroon flats and then produced a pair of black, square-framed glasses. 

Velma took both and started at Marcie through her new lenses. “Remarkable. They’re only twenty-percent the thickness of my old glasses, at most, and I can see clearer.”

Marcie and Velma walked down to the foyer, where they found Shaggy, Scooby, Daphne, and Fred. 

“Um, Velma, those are, like, some groovy pants,” Shaggy said. His tone was entirely genuine but that didn’t seem to matter to Velma. 

“Shut up, Norville,” Velma said. Change was not, and had never been, a close friend of Velma’s. 

“Hey!”

“You’re just not looking very ‘shaggy’ right now,” she responded, but her tone had lightened and Shaggy could tell she was teasing him in good fun. “I love your outfit, Daphne, you look great.”

“Thanks. It’s definitely growing on me.”

“Guys, there’s time for a fashion show later, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon!” Fred squealed and darted off to the garage. The Gang heard a loud gasp followed by the cry, “Oh, baby, I’ve missed you!” 

Externally, the Mystery Machine was identical to the one they’d left behind in 1969. Internally, she was a completely different beast. Everything had been updated to reflect 21st century safety standards, of course, and all the bells and whistles necessary for on-the-go mystery solving had also been added. There was a satellite computer system in the back, a whiteboard, a Scooby-Snack dispensing machine, fingerprint dusting kits, a microscope, disguises, trapping equipment, and just about anything else they could need. 

“This is... everything!” Fred shouted, practically hopping from one foot to the other. “Are you guys sure we have to go home because this might just be worth staying here.”

“Jeepers,” Daphne said as she peered into the back of the Mystery Machine. “I don’t know how to use half of this stuff.”

“Like, it is nice, Fred, but...” I still want to go home, Shaggy thought.   

Marcie followed The Gang into the garage and consulted her tablet. “Your assignment is to drive into town and walk around Main St. Maybe grab a coffee, or go into a store.”

“That’s it?” Velma asked. “You’re making us walk around? Shop?!”

“And blend in,” she finished. “That’s the hard part. We will have an undercover operative keep an eye on you and report back to Timothy and myself about how well you do. Then, if it goes well, you can go out and start collecting clues about time travel. We have no idea how long it will take to master the intricacies of time travel. You could be here for months or even years.”

“Marcie, this seems like a waste of time,” Daphne said. “We should have started collecting clues the minute we landed here.”

“Honestly, Ms. Blake, I see your point, however clues that have lasted since 1969 are going to last a few more days. Off you go.” 

The Gang piled into the Mystery Machine, Fred, Daphne, and Velma up front and Shaggy and Scooby in the back. Fred could hardly contain his excitement as he put the Mystery Machine in reverse and backed out of the garage. He turned to Daphne, beaming, and she giggled. 

“Go ahead, Freddie. See what this thing can do.”

Read more on AO3!

[maksimkurylenko]

FOR: @mobscene-starters WHEN: 09th of March, 2024. WHERE: Mari Vanna (Knightsbridge) 

"I tell you," Maksim looked up from his food, eye glaring as a downpour erupted out of the "Nothin' get's better than this, Anfisa." he was quick to thank the waitress, making a note to remember to tip her before he left, offering a quick smile before turning back to this company.

Mari Vanna was an authentic Russian restaurant in Knightsbridge, which felt more like walking into the front living room of his aunt, had she still been alive. And the decorations that littered made him think of a museum much resembling the country in which he had originated. But it was the food that drew him back time and time again.

Just like home. It made him think of his mother's cooking.

"So," Maksim cleared his throat, taking a sip of a cool beer. "and, feel free to stop me because I'm spitballin' here. Could we bring more people into the fold? Tough decisions are tough for a reason, but I keep thinking it might be a requirement. Or, at least, that was the idea."

[phantomarine]

I don't know why but I kinda feel that today was the last straw for Vanna in a very specific way, she was really really REALLY trying to reason to Cheline and to actually understand her and her motives even though Cheline patronized her, threatened her and her son and gave a front view terror ....Vanna STILL tried to show humanity, to show her best compassion, to show her sympathy for this fallen goddess, to show that there might be other ways....She is probably the first person in five thousand years to attempt to give some comfort and kind words to Cheline...and the evil bird just tossed her actions to the side...And while talking about her dead husband as tool and less of person Vanna loved dearly and the idea of making her a Fata Morgana to kill her own son! I feel like Vanna will get tired of trying to reason with the evil bird, especially after that smile!... Also!Man that's was so evil and so very in character! Cheline is a type of Villain that many can understand at least the feeling she is having or the ways she doesn't manage to cope with her own trauma but also not excusing her actions, just....*chef's kiss* I loved the manner she got presented to us in this chapter officially! ALSO! Is probably very telling about how Cheth and Cheline deal with their errors, since Cheth felt bad for a moment when Pavel was talking with Phaedra, while Cheline being faced with her errors tries to brush it off... Honestly when Cheline meets Pavel officially and not as Halea...I think this whole fandom will be in a state of emergency... ALSO! Sorry for the long rambling! But we are in last pages and WOW this chapter was INCREDIBLE!!!

WOOOOOO THANK YOU