We’ll Be Alright

Malia | 22

[jinxispunk]

hey i’ve been obsessed with your writing recently!!! i’ve especially loved your joe keery x diabetic reader! i was wondering if you could do something similar but with reader who has iron deficiency anaemia and has to get regular iron infusions. i’m not sure how much you know about iron deficiency but it seriously takes up so much of my life and this would bring me so much comfort. it’s so much more than just being tired or dizzy when standing up, but it’s the cold shaky hands, the brain fog and anxiety, the bone deep tiredness, and i just think joe would love to look after his girlfriend if she was going through something like this. i love your writing, thank you so much!

hi lovely!! firstly thank you so much for sending this request in, and thank you for all the kind words, that genuinely means so much to hear

you're completely right, whenever people talk about iron deficiency anaemia they usually reduce it to "being tired", when from everything i've learned about anaemia from friends, it can affect absolutely every part of your day. i ended up focusing less on a big scary medical event and more on all the little invisible ways it wears you down over time, and joe slowly noticing every single one of them.

i really hope this brings you even a tiny bit of comfort. it honestly did for me, so thank you!! 🫶

bone tired

Joe Keery x irondeficient!reader

Summary: Joe starts noticing all the tiny ways iron deficiency anaemia is wearing you down long before you admit how exhausted you really are.

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, minors DNI, no use of y/n, established relationship, iron deficiency anaemia, chronic illness, iron infusions, fatigue, brain fog, anxiety, dizziness, cold intolerance, hurt/comfort, caretaking, comfort fic, protective joe keery, fluff, discussions of medical treatment (lmk if i missed anything)

W/C: 1.2k

Read more of my writing here: [masterlist]

The first sign is your hands.

Not because you mention them. You don't.

In fact, you've become so used to having permanently cold hands that you barely register it anymore. It's just another one of those small, irritating facts of life that you've quietly absorbed into your understanding of yourself, somewhere between needing extra blankets and carrying snacks in your bag.

Joe notices almost immediately.

One evening you're walking home after dinner, fingers loosely tangled together as you wander through the city, when he suddenly stops mid-sentence and tightens his grip on your hand.

"Jesus Christ."

You glance over.

"What?"

"Are you dead?"

A laugh escapes you before you can stop it.

"No."

Joe turns your hand over between both of his, frowning at your fingers like they've personally offended him.

"Baby, you're freezing."

"I'm always freezing."

"I know," he says. "That's the concerning part."

You shrug.

Because it isn't concerning.

It's normal.

You've spent so long feeling cold that the absence of it would probably feel stranger.

Joe looks unconvinced.

Over the next few weeks, he starts noticing all the other things you've stopped noticing too.

The second sign is the stairs.

Not because anything dramatic happens. In fact, Joe doesn't realise at first why something feels different.

He only notices tiny things.

The way you pause halfway up more often than you used to. The way you reach the top slightly breathless despite insisting you're fine. The way your hand lingers against the bannister for a second before continuing down the hallway.

Most people probably wouldn't notice.

Joe does. Because Joe notices everything.

One afternoon he finds you standing at the top of the stairs staring vaguely into space.

Not upset or distracted. Just tired.

A kind of tiredness that seems to reach all the way down into your bones.

"Hey."

You blink.

"Hm?"

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

Joe waits.

You stare back.

Eventually you sigh.

"...I forgot why I came upstairs."

His face softens immediately.

"Oh."

You laugh weakly.

"Yeah."

The thing about brain fog is that it's difficult to explain to people who haven't experienced it.

Everybody forgets things sometimes.

Everybody loses their train of thought.

But this feels different.

Like trying to think through wet cement.

Like your thoughts are still there, but somebody's wrapped them all in cotton wool.

The brain fog frustrates you more than anything else.

The exhaustion is awful, obviously. The dizziness is annoying. Being cold all the time feels ridiculous and inconvenient in equal measure.

But the brain fog feels personal somehow.

Like your own mind has quietly stopped cooperating with you.

You'll lose words halfway through perfectly ordinary conversations. Walk into rooms and immediately forget why. Start telling a story only for the thread of it to vanish entirely halfway through the sentence.

One evening you're talking to Joe about something completely inconsequential when you stop dead.

The word disappears.

Gone.

Nothing.

You can practically feel the frustration building before you even realise it's happening.

Joe notices immediately.

"The word'll come back."

You stare at him miserably.

"It won't."

"It will."

"It won't."

Joe waits patiently while you glare at the wall.

Five seconds later, "...microwave."

You blink.

Joe bursts out laughing.

"So close."

You groan and bury your face in your hands.

"It wasn't even remotely close."

"It kinda was."

"It absolutely wasn't."

Joe leans over to kiss the top of your head.

"It was in spirit."

The infusion appointments are somehow worse.

Not because they're painful or scary.

Because they're exhausting. Because you're tired of needing them.

Tired of arranging your life around blood tests and appointments and results and follow-ups. Tired of sitting in waiting rooms reading the same outdated magazines while somebody tells you, once again, that your iron levels have dropped.

Tired of your body constantly requiring maintenance just to function.

You don't usually talk about that part.

Joe figures it out anyway.

The first time he drives you to an infusion, you insist repeatedly that he doesn't need to come.

The second time, he doesn't even ask.

By the third, he already knows your order from the café downstairs.

"One cuppa tea, m'lady," he says dramatically, handing it over.

You raise an eyebrow.

"Milk, one sugar."

"You remembered."

Joe looks offended.

"Of course I remembered."

Something warm twists quietly in your chest.

The worst day happens in October.

Nobody ends up in hospital. Nothing goes catastrophically wrong. You don't faint. You don't receive bad news.

You've simply spent weeks pretending you're fine.

Pushing through.

Taking the stairs when the lift would've been easier. Accepting plans you were already too tired for. Smiling through conversations while your brain struggled to keep pace. Telling people you were "just tired" because explaining the truth felt like too much effort.

By the time you finally get home, you're running on fumes.

You barely make it through the front door before your shoulders start aching. Your legs feel heavy. Your head feels thick with exhaustion.

You sit down on the edge of the bed intending to take your shoes off.

Instead, you burst into tears.

Not graceful tears. Not quiet tears.

The sort that arrive so suddenly they catch you completely off guard.

Because you're exhausted.

Because you're frustrated.

Because your body feels like it belongs to somebody else.

Because you're tired of being tired.

And because no matter how hard you try, you can't seem to rest enough to fix it.

Joe finds you ten minutes later exactly where you left yourself.

Still wearing your coat. Still clutching your handbag.

Still crying.

He takes one look at you and immediately understands that this isn't about whatever happened today.

It's about every day.

Every day before this one. Every day after it.

Without saying a word, he sits beside you and opens his arms.

You fold into them immediately.

"You know what the worst part is?" you mumble eventually.

Joe rubs slow circles across your back.

"What?"

You laugh weakly against his shoulder.

"I don't even feel ill."

Joe looks down at you.

Because he understands exactly what you mean.

You don't have a cast. You don't have stitches. You don't look sick.

Most days nobody would know anything was wrong at all.

Which somehow makes it lonelier.

"It's invisible."

"Yeah."

Joe nods slowly.

Then presses a kiss into your hair.

"I see it."

The words hit harder than you expect.

Because he does.

He sees the extra blankets piled onto the sofa.

The forgotten words. The cancelled plans. The trembling hands.

The days where climbing the stairs feels like climbing a mountain.

The way exhaustion settles into your bones and refuses to leave.

He sees all of it.

And somehow he never makes you feel guilty for any of it.

A few weeks after your next infusion, Joe catches your hand automatically while you're crossing a road.

Then pauses.

You immediately recognise the expression on his face.

"What?"

Joe grins.

"Your hands are warm."

You blink.

Then look down.

For the first time in months, they are.

Not freezing. Not aching. Just warm.

Joe looks absurdly pleased with himself, like he's personally responsible for the achievement.

You laugh.

Joe squeezes your hand.

And for the first time in a long time, things feel a little lighter.

Not because the anaemia has disappeared.

Not because anything is fixed.

But because carrying it doesn't feel quite so heavy when somebody else insists on helping.

dividers: saradika-graphics

[malecftw]

The one where he gets the ring - Joe Keery

Kinda a niche one inspired by a ring I found at a local gem and mineral store in my neighborhood (inserted pic). I could just totally see Joe use that ring in the story.

Also currently not proofreading stuff I put out since I don't wanna oversaturate my brain with my writing cause I wanna keep doing this writing thing like I used to. If you see any errors or stuff that doesn't make sense that bothers you, pls lmk and I'll fix it.

I had planned for this to also be the engagement, but it didn't feel right. If you guys want I can do a part 2 to this, just let me know.

Enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated <3

To say you were excited to have some downtime with Joe was an understatement. He'd been on tour, you'd been working, and sometimes the stars didn't line up, causing you to be apart for months when you weren't able to go see him on tour.

He'd flown in a couple of days ago and you'd been attached to the hip, mostly in bed because... Needs. But you missed everything about him when he wasn't around.

The way your potted plant Velma always seemed to glow when he was around and the light of dawn settled over your apartment. He laughed when you came home with her and introduced him, always finding it so endearing when you named random objects because you get attached to things easily. He found that out on your second date when you picked him up in your car, Winnifred. An old, baby blue Ford pick up truck that had seen better days, which you kept despite it drinking your weight in gas every other week. After a clear examination at the garage, Lilly was deemed a dying breed but you kept her cause "she has character". Joe just shook his head at that but secretly loved it, since it was an obvious reflection on how you looked at things and situations. Or when he fixed Dorothy (the old washing machine your mom let you have cause she wanted a new one), after one of her tantrums when she spilled water all over the floor because Joe forgot to empty his pockets and one of his keys wreaked havoc on her insides.

You loved everything about him and your life with him, so when he was finally back in your orbit you planned on fully absorbing the warmth he brought to your day to day.

As you began your 4 hour drive to the Herkimer mines, life couldn't feel more perfect. Legs propped up on the dasboard, shorts riding up in the process which Joe used to his advantage to rest his hand your thigh. You were sipping some iced coffee as you fed Joe some of his cream cheese bagel while he kept his eyes on the road. That man did things to you when he drove. It didn't happen that often because public transport was your best friend in New York, but when it did you were fully enjoying the view. One hand on the steering wheel, tapping quietly to the beat of the music, head laid back against the headrest while he looked at the outstretched road ahead. Occasionally sneaking a peak at you when you were fully engrossed in your book or knitting project that you brought to keep yourself occupied when the conversation died down and all that was left was comfortable silence.

He loved the way you loved the ordinary, often finding you on the couch with a new knitting pattern you needed for one of your more ambitious attempts working you were working on, or fully into a word seeker with your favourite podcast playing in the background, waiting for him to get home so you could start dinner together. He was scared his lifestyle would scare you off, or possibly even change you, but surprisingly, you brought a simplicity to his life that he didn't know he missed until he found you. You didn't like shiny, brand new things. They were nice sometimes depending on the situation, but you preferred the imperfect. You liked the flaws in objects, stories, even humans. It made them real, and kept you grounded to your belief that perfection is artificial. It could be beautiful, but it wasn't the reality of life and everything that connected humans.

Although he supported your choice to keep Velma as if she were your only adopted child, he didn't think she'd survive the drive over, let alone back to New York so he suggested to rent a car for a couple of days in case you guys wanted to prolong your trip and see some other sights.

Even though you stopped for another coffee about halfway through the drive, you still got to your destination faster than expected since you planned to visit the mines on a regular tuesday since you figured there'd be less people around.

As Joe pulls up, he turns his head towards you and grins. You're so engrossed in your new book that you haven't even realized he's parked the car. "Babe," he says softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Hmm?" You ask, still not looking up. He slightly shakes his head and smiles before leaning forward and kissing your cheek. Of course, you look up at that. "Oh, we're here already?" He nods and moves towards your lips, giving you a soft peck and a ridiculously enamored smile.

You put your arms around his neck and rest your forehead against his. "I'm excited," you say with a big smile and he just laughs. "I know you are."

You decide to go to the shop first, since your guided tour doesn't start until later. As you roam through the cute shop Joe joins you after having a smoke outside, complaining about it already being too warm for human existence. The elderly lady at the till smiles at you while you slowly make your way through all the different clusters when your eyes catch the tiniest crystal, set into a silver ring.

You bend down and pick up the jewelry from the small wooden table it was stalled out on. You haven't seen a ring quite like it before, which makes you instantly interested in the piece. The beautiful, clear Herkimer diamond sits in the middle of the silver band. As you look at it from every angle, you feel Joe coming up behind you. "Whatcha got there?" You look up and hold it up to him. He doesn't take it from you, but instead inspects it closer, the familiar squint present on his face because he just refused to wear his glasses that morning. "It's pretty." He says, nodding towards it. "Does it fit?" "I don't know, I haven't tried it."

He looks at you questioningly. "Well why won't you?" "I didn't really plan on buying anything today," you shrug, although your eyes can't seem to leave the ring in your hand. He rolls his eyes, of course... You were always very particular with jewelry, wanting to make sure you really like a piece before buying it. He watches you inspect it further, as you notice the black specs on the bottom of the crystal. He can just tell it's right up your street. Basically made for you since it fits your style and it's perfectly imperfect.

As he rests his head on your shoulder, he says: "Try it on." You tsk at him, knowing that if it actually fits, it'll be very hard to walk away from. He can see your internal battle and takes the ring from your hand. Taking your other hand in his before softly sliding the ring on your ring finger. You snort quietly and say: "I'm not sure that's where it's supposed to go baby."

He smiles and kisses your bare shoulder. "Are you sure about that?" Jokingly, you elbow his side. "Don't mess with me Keery." He laughs out loud at that, immediately sending an apologetic smile to the elderly lady for disturbing the peace in the small shop. "Well, I can tell it fits like a glove and I'm not even the one wearing it." You give him a pensive look, "Yeah."

He softly pinches your side and presses a kiss to your temple when you say: "I still have the day to think about it, we can always come back after the tour." "But what if someone buys it? It's a one of one." "Babe, there's barely anyone around." He's not convinced, it's obvious in the way he pulls up his eyebrows as he thinks about it. "Alright, speaking of, we better get going to the entrance." You place the ring back on the wooden table and make your way outside towards the entrance of the mine. "We got about ten minutes right? I'm quickly gonna use the bathroom, that bagel is acting up." He says before jogging back towards the building that has the restrooms, the shop and an information desk. "Gross!" You yell jokingly and he laughs. "You still think I'm hot though." You scoff at him and shake your head, turning towards the entrance.

While you wait, of course, Joe is up to no good. He makes his way towards the restrooms but does a 90 degree turn when he sees your back facing him, going straight for the shop instead. The lady grins warmly as she sees him walking back in, alone this time, making a beeline for the wooden table when he sees people moving towards it, not willing to take the risk of it getting snatched right before his eyes. With the ring in hand he makes his way towards the lady. "Can I ask you for a favor?" He asks politely. "Sure hon." She says while putting the details into the system. "If me and my girlfriend end up back here after our tour. Please don't mention this?" He says hopeful, a plan already forming in his mind. She nods and looks down at the ring, catching onto his idea without him even mentioning anything. "Special ring." She says before looking up at him and he smiles, radiating happiness before replying.

"Special girl."

[jinxispunk]

designated driver

Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: After volunteering to be designated driver for the evening, Steve spends the night following his increasingly drunk girlfriend around a bar as she becomes determined to tell every stranger she meets exactly how pretty her boyfriend is.

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, minors DNI, no use of y/n, established relationship, drunk reader, public affection, so much fluff, reader is obsessed with her boyfriend, steve harrington gets verbally objectified, robin buckley is having the time of her life, second-hand embarrassment, drunken honesty, emotional intimacy, soft steve harrington, comfort fic (lmk if i missed anything)

W/C: 2.2k

Read more of my writing here: [masterlist]

To your credit, it's not as if you're falling over yourself, or slurring your words, or doing any of the things people usually associate with being drunk. In fact, from a distance, you look perfectly fine. You're sitting upright, laughing at something Robin has said, nursing the same drink you've had for the better part of half an hour. To anybody else, you'd probably just seem relaxed.

But Steve knows you.

More specifically, Steve knows the different versions of you that emerge after one drink, after two drinks, after three drinks, and somewhere between your third and fourth drink of the evening, you become convinced that everybody in the immediate vicinity is your friend.

The bartender becomes your friend.

The woman fixing her lipstick in the bathroom becomes your friend.

The group of girls playing pool become your friends.

The middle-aged couple sharing chips in the corner become your friends.

The man waiting outside for a taxi becomes your friend.

At some point, Steve is fairly certain you'd attempt to befriend a parking meter if it looked lonely enough.

Which is why he's standing at the bar with a glass of Coke in one hand when he glances across the room and finds you in animated conversation with a woman at least twenty years older than you, gesturing enthusiastically enough that half your drink is in immediate danger of sloshing onto the floor.

"How bad?" Robin asks, appearing beside him.

Steve watches you pull out your phone.

The woman leans closer.

A second later she starts laughing.

Steve closes his eyes.

"Medium."

Robin follows his gaze. "What is she showing her?"

"I have a horrible feeling I already know."

When you eventually make your way back over, looking deeply pleased with yourself, Steve immediately shifts closer, one hand settling automatically against the small of your back as you slot yourself into the space beside him.

"What were you showing her?"

You blink up at him.

"A picture of you."

Robin nearly inhales her drink.

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Of course it was."

You look genuinely confused by his reaction.

"What?"

"Why do you have to show strangers pictures of me?"

"Because you looked nice."

"I was sitting on the sofa."

"You looked really nice."

"As opposed to all the times I look terrible?"

You consider this seriously for a moment.

"I don't think that's happened yet."

Robin makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and a wheeze and has to physically turn away from both of you.

Steve, meanwhile, is discovering that there are few things more embarrassing than being adored by someone who has completely lost the ability to keep those thoughts to themselves.

And it doesn't stop there.

If anything, it gets worse.

Steve returns from ordering another round and immediately knows something is wrong when he finds Robin doubled over against the dartboard cabinet, laughing so hard she can barely breathe.

The source of her amusement becomes obvious approximately two seconds later.

You're standing with two girls near the pool table, phone in hand once again.

One of them spots Steve approaching and immediately points.

"Oh my God."

The second one turns.

Her eyes widen.

"That's him."

Steve stops walking.

"No."

The first girl laughs. "That is absolutely him."

"Baby."

You look delighted.

"Steve!"

"What have you done?"

"What?"

The sheer innocence in your voice would almost be convincing if Steve hadn't been dating you long enough to recognise exactly what it sounded like when you were pretending not to know the answer.

"What did you tell them?"

You shrug.

"We were talking."

"About?"

You point at him.

"My boyfriend."

The girls immediately dissolve into laughter.

Steve briefly considers walking directly into traffic.

"Honey."

"What?"

"How many photos did you show them?"

The girls exchange a look.

"Fourteen."

"FOURTEEN?"

"In my defence," you say seriously, "they were all different."

Robin lets out a strangled noise.

"Different?"

"Different situations."

Steve stares at you.

You stare back.

Completely sincere.

"Some of them were from summer."

As though that somehow improves matters.

The worst part is that the girls aren't laughing at him.

They're laughing because it's obvious how much you adore him.

They're laughing because they've clearly spent the last ten minutes listening to you enthusiastically describe your boyfriend like he's simultaneously a movie star, a rescue puppy, and the eighth wonder of the world.

One of them grins.

"Honestly, it's kind of sweet."

"Thank you," you say immediately.

"Stop encouraging her."

"No," says the other girl. "For what it's worth, she's very convincing."

Steve drops his head into his hands.

Robin is crying with laughter.

And somehow the entire situation becomes even more mortifying when he realises that neither of the girls seem remotely surprised by the fact he's standing there. They've clearly heard enough stories over the last ten minutes to feel as though they already know him.

Which is arguably worse.

By the time Steve manages to extract you from introducing him to complete strangers, the pub has grown warmer and louder, the evening crowd settling in around them while conversations overlap into a constant low hum.

You eventually migrate outside, escaping the heat and noise in favour of a small patio strung with fairy lights and crowded with battered wooden tables.

You immediately kick your shoes halfway off and tuck your legs beneath yourself.

Steve sits beside you without thinking.

Within seconds you're leaning against him, naturally, as though gravity has finally remembered where you're supposed to be. The familiar weight of you settles against his side. His arm finds your shoulders. Your fingers drift absent-mindedly towards his hand.

Neither of you acknowledge it. It's simply what happens.

"You having fun?" he asks.

You hum.

"Mhm."

"You've definitely had enough to drink."

"Says who?"

"Says the person who's spent the evening running an unsolicited public relations campaign on my behalf."

Your grin appears immediately.

"There it is."

Steve sighs.

"There what is?"

"The thing."

"What thing?"

You poke his cheek.

The absolute audacity of it.

Steve catches your hand before you can do it again.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"I really don't."

"You do."

"I don't."

"You absolutely do."

The smile pulling at the corner of his mouth gives him away.

You make a triumphant noise.

"There."

"There what?"

"That."

"What?"

"That thing."

Steve turns away.

Which only makes you laugh harder.

For a few moments neither of you say anything.

Music drifts through the open door behind you. Somebody drops a glass inside. A burst of laughter follows.

The night air feels pleasantly cool against his skin after the heat of the pub.

When you speak again, your voice is softer.

Honest in the way drunk people sometimes become when every protective instinct and social filter quietly falls away.

"You don't see what everybody else sees."

Steve glances down.

"What does that mean?"

You trace absent-minded circles across the back of his hand.

"It means you think people love you because you're helpful."

Something shifts in Steve's chest.

Small. Uncomfortable. Familiar.

You continue before he can answer.

"You think people love you because you drive them places."

You squeeze his fingers.

"Or because you fix things."

Another squeeze.

"Or because you look after everyone."

Steve looks away.

The thing about being known is that sometimes people stumble directly into places you've spent years carefully avoiding.

You don't seem to notice.

Or maybe you do.

Maybe that's the problem.

"But that's not why."

Steve swallows.

"No?"

You shake your head.

The answer arrives with complete certainty.

"No."

"Then why?"

You look at him as though he's asked the most ridiculous question imaginable.

"Because you're Steve."

That's it.

No grand speech. No dramatic declaration.

Just four simple words delivered with complete confidence.

As though the answer should have been obvious all along.

As though being Steve is reason enough.

As though it always was.

Robin finds you both twenty minutes later.

One look at the two of you sharing a basket of chips and she immediately narrows her eyes.

"Oh no."

Steve sighs.

"What now?"

"Why do you both look emotional?"

"We don't."

"You do."

"We're eating chips."

"You look like somebody confessed their love before boarding a train in a period drama."

Steve points a chip at her.

"This is why nobody tells you things."

Robin steals it.

"You cried, didn't you?"

"I did not."

"You cried a little bit."

"I didn't."

"You absolutely cried a little bit."

Before Steve can defend himself, you suddenly lift your head from his shoulder.

"Robin."

Robin immediately braces herself.

"What?"

You point at Steve.

"He's really pretty."

Robin folds in half.

Steve groans.

"No, seriously."

"We know."

"You don't."

Robin wipes tears from her eyes.

"I promise you, sweetheart, we do."

You shake your head.

The frustration in your expression suggests neither of them are taking this nearly seriously enough.

"Look at him!"

Robin obediently looks.

Then looks at you.

Then back at Steve.

"Yep."

You throw your hands up.

"His hair!"

"His hair."

"His eyes!"

"His eyes."

"The fact he's nice to old people!"

Steve nearly chokes.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It matters."

"It absolutely matters," Robin says.

"Thank you."

"Stop helping."

"No."

Robin's grin is positively evil now.

"You know what the best part is?"

Steve already hates this conversation.

"What?"

Robin points towards you.

"She's not saying any of this because she's drunk."

"Excuse me?"

Robin ignores him.

"She's saying it because she's been thinking it for years and alcohol just removed the quality control department."

The look on your face confirms it instantly.

"Oh."

Steve stares.

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

Robin laughs.

"Oh, buddy."

Steve immediately decides he never wants to speak to either of you again.

By midnight the evening has begun winding down.

The pub is quieter now, conversations fading as people drift home in pairs and groups. Chairs scrape across wooden floors. Glasses clink behind the bar.

The alcohol is wearing off.

Your energy is beginning to fade with it.

Steve notices the change immediately.

The way your words have become slower. The way your eyes linger shut a little longer every time you blink. The way you instinctively seek him out whenever he moves more than a few feet away.

He says his goodbyes. Collects jackets. Finds your missing shoe, somehow.

And eventually guides you towards the car.

Halfway across the car park you mumble something against his shoulder.

"What was that?"

"Hm?"

"What'd you say?"

You squint up at him.

For a moment he thinks you've forgotten.

Then you smile.

Small. Sleepy. Entirely yourself.

"I said thank you."

Steve frowns.

"For what?"

You shrug.

"As a general concept."

A laugh escapes before he can stop it.

"A general concept?"

"Mhm."

"Very specific."

"I know."

When he reaches the car, he opens the passenger door and waits while you climb inside. He makes sure your seatbelt is on, checks you've got your phone, your bag, your jacket.

The routine is so familiar he barely has to think about it anymore.

It's only when he closes the door and walks around to the driver's side that he notices you're watching him through the windscreen.

Still smiling.

The soft kind this time.

Not the reckless grin from earlier.

Something quieter and infinitely more dangerous.

Steve settles into the driver's seat.

"What?"

You continue looking at him.

Nothing but affection in your eyes.

"Nothing."

"Baby."

"I just love you."

The words arrive so casually they almost miss him entirely.

No build-up. No fanfare.

Just a simple statement of fact.

Like commenting on the weather. Like mentioning that it's late. Like saying the sky is blue.

I just love you.

Steve reaches across the centre console and takes your hand.

Your fingers immediately curl around his.

Outside, amber streetlights cast pools of gold across the empty car park. Inside, the heater hums softly to life, filling the silence with something warm and familiar.

You yawn.

Your eyes drift shut.

Your hand remains wrapped around his.

And as Steve starts the engine, he finds himself thinking about every stranger you'd spoken to tonight, every photograph you'd proudly shown off, every conversation he'd been hopelessly embarrassed by.

Because none of them had really been about him being pretty.

Not entirely.

They'd been about something much simpler.

You'd spent the entire evening looking at him the way people look at their favourite place.

Like somewhere safe. Somewhere familiar. Somewhere worth returning to.

And maybe that was what had embarrassed him so much.

Not being admired.

Being seen.

Because loving somebody is easy to understand.

Being known quite that completely is something else entirely.

Steve squeezes your hand once before pulling out of the car park.

You don't even open your eyes.

You just squeeze back.

And somehow, after everything, that feels like the most convincing declaration of love he's heard all night.

dividers: saradika-graphics

[jinxispunk]

hold still

Joe Keery x reader

Summary: Joe keeps trying to take proper photos of you, only to realise his favourite ones are always the moments you don't know he's watching.

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, minors DNI, no use of y/n, established relationship, fluff, candid photographs, domestic intimacy, excessive yearning, Joe being hopelessly in love, reader is incapable of sitting still for more than 5 seconds, comfort fic (lmk if I missed anything)

W/C: 1.3k

Read more of my writing here: [masterlist]

"Okay," he says patiently, camera already raised. "Just stay there."

You nod immediately.

Then bend down to pet somebody's dog walking past.

Joe lowers the camera before he's even had a chance to take the picture.

The dog owner looks delighted. The dog looks delighted. You look delighted.

Joe looks tired.

"That wasn't even ten seconds."

"I saw a dog."

"As a defence, that's weak."

"As a defence," you argue, already scratching happily behind the dog's ears, "that dog was wearing a little raincoat."

Joe glances over.

The dog is, unfortunately, wearing a little raincoat.

"...okay, that's fair."

The photos only get worse from there. Or better, depending who you ask.

Every time Joe tries to take an actual portrait, something inevitably happens first. You spot a bird halfway through. You become distracted by a particularly interesting leaf. You start laughing because Joe's taking the whole thing far too seriously and then can't stop long enough for him to actually press the shutter.

At one point he spends nearly three minutes adjusting settings, changing lenses and muttering to himself about lighting, only to finally look up and discover you've somehow made friends with a toddler in a dinosaur t-shirt.

"Where did that kid come from?"

You shrug.

The toddler offers Joe half a biscuit.

Joe takes it.

The photoshoot never really recovers after that.

Eventually he drops onto the grass beside you and accepts defeat while you and your new four-year-old best friend discuss dinosaurs with alarming seriousness.

"You are genuinely impossible."

You grin over the top of your coffee.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Joe stares.

Because you do know.

You've known for weeks.

The entire thing started because Joe mentioned wanting more photographs of you. Not glamorous ones. Not posed ones. Just photos. Evidence. Proof that you exist in his life in all the tiny ways he loves most.

Unfortunately, every time he points a camera at you, your attention immediately wanders somewhere else.

The problem is that he can't even be annoyed about it anymore.

Because every accidental photograph ends up being better than the one he'd originally wanted.

At first he doesn't realise he's doing it.

The shift happens gradually enough that he barely notices.

One day he's trying to photograph you properly. The next he's crouched halfway across a park zooming in because you've just thrown your head back laughing at something your friend said.

You don't even know he's taking the photo.

The same thing happens three days later when you're reading on the sofa with your feet tucked beneath you. Then again while you're cooking dinner. Then again while you're sitting cross-legged on the floor trying to assemble a bookshelf and slowly losing patience with the instructions.

By the end of the month, Joe's camera roll barely resembles what he'd originally intended.

Somewhere along the way, the posed photographs disappear entirely.

Instead there are hundreds of tiny moments.

You're staring thoughtfully out train windows with your chin tucked into your sleeve. You're dancing badly in the kitchen while waiting for pasta to boil. You're carrying far too many shopping bags because you'd rather dislocate a shoulder than make two trips. You're asleep in the passenger seat, one hand still loosely curled around the coffee you'd insisted you weren't tired enough to need.

There are photographs of you holding flowers. Feeding ducks. Stealing chips off his plate while pretending you aren't. Looking at books in shop windows. Sitting on curbsides. Watching storms through glass.

None of them are technically perfect.

Most of them aren't even framed particularly well.

They're just you.

Which, as far as Joe's concerned, is considerably more important.

One day, you discover the album.

Not intentionally.

Joe leaves his camera on the coffee table one afternoon while he goes to answer the door. You aren't snooping, at least not initially. You're just curious.

Then you notice the folder.

And inside it are hundreds of photographs.

Most of which you've never seen before.

Your stomach does something strange.

Because they're all moments you don't remember.

Or rather, moments you didn't realise anybody else remembered.

You sitting on the kitchen counter eating strawberries straight from the carton. You asleep beneath a blanket with a book still open on your chest. You standing outside a record shop staring at an album cover. You laughing so hard your eyes disappear. You watching something out of frame with that thoughtful expression you never know you're making.

You existing.

That's all.

Just existing.

The photographs aren't glamorous. They aren't curated. They aren't trying to make you look beautiful.

Which somehow makes them feel infinitely more intimate.

Joe finds you twenty minutes later sitting on the couch with the camera still in your lap.

His expression changes immediately.

"Oh."

You glance up.

"Oh?"

A suspicious amount of guilt appears on his face.

"You found the folder."

You hold up the camera.

"The folder."

Joe winces like he's been caught doing something embarrassing.

Which is ridiculous.

Because the embarrassing thing, apparently, is loving you.

Again.

"What?" he asks eventually.

You scroll to another photograph. One you've never seen before.

You're sitting on the floor of his apartment, wrapping birthday presents for a mutual friend. Your hair's a mess. You're wearing one of his old t-shirts. You're concentrating so hard on curling ribbon that your tongue's sticking slightly out the corner of your mouth.

You don't remember the photo.

Joe obviously does.

"You took all these?"

His ears immediately go pink.

Which is answer enough.

The thing is, the photographs aren't really about photography.

You realise that almost immediately.

They're observations. Little collected moments. A catalogue of things Joe loves.

The way your nose wrinkles when you're confused. The way you always sit with one leg folded underneath you. The way you reach for his hand automatically in crowded places without ever looking to check he's there. The way you tell stories with your whole body, incapable of speaking without acting half of it out.

The way you abandon cups of tea in random rooms and then spend twenty minutes looking for them afterwards.

The way you never stay still.

Ever.

Not even for a second.

Every photograph is saying exactly the same thing.

Look.

Look at her.

Isn't she wonderful?

The realisation hits so hard it almost hurts.

"What?" Joe asks again, softer this time.

You stare down at another photograph.

This one is blurry.

Technically terrible.

You're halfway through running across a field because somebody's dog escaped its lead and decided you were the most exciting person available. The horizon's crooked. Half your face isn't even in frame.

It's objectively one of the worst photographs in the folder.

Joe has marked it as a favourite.

You laugh through the sudden sting in your eyes.

"This one's awful."

Joe immediately leans over your shoulder.

Then smiles.

"No."

"It is."

"Nope."

"You can barely see me."

"Yeah, but-"

You look at him.

Joe shrugs before reaching over and tapping the image lightly with his finger.

"That's my favourite one."

"Why?"

His expression softens.

The answer comes so easily it almost feels unfair.

"Because that's you."

Your chest aches.

Joe notices immediately.

Of course he does.

He's spent months paying attention.

A few weeks later, Joe tries another photoshoot.

A real one this time.

You stand where he tells you. You smile when he asks. You make a genuine effort.

For almost thirty seconds.

Then a butterfly lands on your sleeve.

Joe watches your attention disappear instantly.

You forget the camera exists. Forget the photoshoot. Forget everything except the tiny creature sitting delicately on your arm.

The smile that spreads across your face isn't posed or performed.

It's simply there.

Joe raises the camera.

Click.

Then again.

Click.

And again.

Click.

You look up eventually.

"What?"

Joe lowers the camera and smiles.

"Nothing, baby."

Because he's finally learned.

The photographs were never about getting you to hold still.

They were always about catching all the beautiful ways you don't.

dividers: saradika-graphics

[supernovafics]

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑

pairing: exboyfriend!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3.9k words

summary: in which you and steve break up and robin feels like she’s stuck in the middle

warnings: explicit language, very angsty, a bit of fluff

author’s note: there’s lowkey no better feeling than finally finishing something that you’ve left unfinished for months upon months<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“So, you’re really just going to avoid each other for the rest of your lives?” 

You nodded at Robin's simplification of the situation at hand. “That’s still pretty much the plan, yeah.” 

“Okay, well, I'm sick of this custody arrangement where I only see one of you one day and the other the next day,” She said, slumping back against the couch in her living room. “These past two weeks have sucked. It literally feels like I'm a kid going back and forth between my divorced parents.”

“I'm the dad and Steve's the mom, right?”

“Obviously,” Robin responded to your playful words. “But no time for joking right now. What I'm trying to say is that I hate being stuck in the middle.”

You wanted to tell her that that wasn’t the case at all— you and Steve weren’t trying to make her choose a side, and you weren’t telling her that she could only be friends with one of you— but you didn’t say any of that because she was pretty much right, she was caught in the middle of your and Steve’s breakup. 

The three of you had been best friends, and it was a trio that was forged through long days of slinging ice cream. And even when you and Steve started dating at the end of that summer, things really didn’t change between the three of you all that much. Robin was happy about your and Steve's relationship because she loved bragging that she had seen it coming from a mile away, and you’d all still hang out constantly and never once did she feel like a third wheel. 

It had all been so perfect. 

Until it wasn’t. And now everything had changed. 

“And I get it,” Robin continued. “I get why you guys are broken up, and I understand the reasoning behind it and all of that. But, is there any way that things could maybe go back to how they used to be before you leave for college?”

“I don’t know,” You admitted honestly. You had no idea if you could actually let things go back to how they were. After being so in love with Steve— there had even genuinely been moments where you considered a “forever” with him— the thought of just becoming his friend again felt a little too weird and a lot too depressing to you. 

Robin sighed but ultimately nodded, and you two went back to watching the movie playing on the TV. 

You felt grateful that she didn’t bring up the promise that you and Steve made to her when you first started dating— how if things somehow didn’t work out between you and him, you’d all still be able to stay close friends. You never once thought that you and Steve would break up, and you especially never thought that you’d end up in a place where all you wanted to do was avoid him, so in the moment, it had felt so easy and like a no-brainer to make that promise to her. It was a promise that you now viewed as naive and so stupidly hopeful. 

However, at the end of the day, it was still a promise, and even though Robin hadn’t brought it up, it was all you could think about for the rest of the night. And it became the reason why you decided to call Steve for the first time in two weeks when you got home that night. 

It went entirely against your plan of quitting him cold turkey— no talking to him, no seeing him, absolutely no contact with him whatsoever. But, you fought the urge you immediately had to hang up the phone after you finished dialing his number and it started ringing. 

“Hello?” 

“We need to do something with Robin,” You said, skipping past any and all greetings and niceties. 

“I’m hanging out with her tomorrow,” Steve responded, and you easily picked up on the confusion in his voice. “And didn’t you two just hang out tonight?”

“No, I mean together. We need to hang out with her together,” You told him as you started mindlessly twirling the phone cord around your index finger. “She hates how different things are now, and I think we should show her that we can be… okay around one another.”

“Okay” seemed like the best, and only, word to use in this context; it wasn’t too much. You definitely felt like you couldn’t say friends or anything else remotely close to that. 

“I'm thinking we do a movie at The Hawk and then dinner at the diner,” You continued. 

“Classic Friday night,” Steve responded.

“Exactly,” You said, nodding even though he couldn’t see you.

It had been a staple among the three of you, and you could only allow yourself to inwardly admit how much you really missed those nights. Going to the movies, spending hours at the diner afterward, dropping Robin off at home before her midnight curfew, and then you and Steve heading to his place, falling into his bed, and talking about anything and everything until the sun came up. Your heart ached harshly in your chest the more you thought about it, and the more you thought about how a night like that would never happen again. 

You cleared your throat and willed away the feeling in your chest. “So, yeah, movie and diner. You in?”

“Of course, anything for Robin,” He told you. “And, I guess, we did kind of promise her that things would stay okay between all of us if we did ever break up.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking about too,” You responded, and the conversation came to a quiet end. All too quickly, an awkwardness that felt impossible to ignore started to linger; the harsh reminder of just how different everything was between you and him. You immediately wanted to push that feeling away. “Um, I should go. I’ll see you Friday, I guess.”

“Okay, yeah. See you Friday.”

You let out a sigh when you placed the phone back on its hook. A wave of nervousness washed over you, but you pretended that everything was fine and that spending time with Steve for the first time since the breakup would be completely fine too. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I know this is a pity hangout, but I'm still having fun.”

You shook your head at Robin’s words. “It’s not a pity hangout.” 

She gave you a look that said that she didn’t believe you in the slightest. “So you two decided to set this up because you wanted to and not because of all that stuff I said a couple nights ago?”

“Yes, exactly,” You said, and then took another sip of your milkshake so that you could break eye contact with her. 

Before she could say anything in response to that, Steve came back from the bathroom and slid back into the booth that you three had been occupying for the last half an hour; you and Robin on one side and him on the other. 

“Okay, it hit me while I was in there. It actually makes so much sense why that guy ended up being the killer,” He said, referring to the movie you all had just watched. “When the first girl was murdered, he got to the scene of the crime way too fast.”

Robin let out a laugh. “You had this groundbreaking epiphany while you were in the bathroom?”

“Yes, I do my best thinking in there sometimes,” Steve responded with a shrug, which only made her laugh harder, and you were unable to bite back your own amused smile. He only playfully rolled his eyes in response. 

“Honestly, the movie kinda sucked,” Robin said when her laughter subsided, and you and Steve hummed in agreement. “Ooh, you know what we need to rewatch again? A Nightmare on Elm Street.”

You groaned. “No. Can we please stay away from horror for a little while? I need to remind my brain that happy things still exist.”

Steve gave you an amused smile. “What’s your suggestion instead? Watching The Muppet Movie for the millionth time?” 

“Joke’s on you because I was actually gonna say The Muppets Take Manhattan,” You said, and then teasingly stuck your tongue out at him because it felt like second nature to do so, and he laughed.  

Somehow, this entire night had felt weirdly okay and actually somewhat easy thus far; like there truly was a way for the three of you to go back to being that “trio” again. You tried not to let yourself think too far ahead, though. This was only one night, and you knew that it wouldn’t be able to change everything for the better. You simply just wanted to live in this really good moment. 

“Wait, that would actually be a good idea for a movie night,” Robin said. “We all watch whatever our favorite movies from childhood were.” 

A conversation started from there, where you all talked about movies you loved when you were kids. You made fun of Steve’s childhood love for the Willy Wonka movie just like he made fun of you with The Muppets, and you both refused to believe Robin when she said that her favorite movie when she was younger was Taxi Driver.

“I had impeccable taste, even as a kid,” She had said, and you rolled your eyes while Steve threw a stray fry at her. 

After spending what was definitely way too long at the diner, the three of you were back in Steve’s car, and he started the quick drive to Robin’s house; she was the closest to the diner, and even you could recognize that it wouldn’t make sense to drop you off first, like when he had picked you up last at the start of the night. However, you had prematurely planned for this; asking Robin yesterday if you could spend the night at her house after the diner, and she, of course, said yes. 

This night with Steve had surprisingly gone okay— pretty much better than just okay— but that didn’t mean that you wanted to be left alone with him, even if it would only be for a ten-minute car ride. You could just imagine how quickly things would fall into awkwardness if you two didn’t have Robin to be the perfect buffer. Without her, you couldn’t even imagine what this night would’ve been like. Without her, this night wouldn’t have existed. 

“Oh, I meant to mention this earlier, but there’s been a slight change of plans,” Robin said when Steve was parked in front of her house, and you started unbuckling your seatbelt to get out too. She turned around to look at you. “You can’t sleep over tonight. My mom is, um, being really weird about… my room. I haven’t cleaned it in forever. It’s a mess. And she doesn’t want me having anyone stay over because of that. So yeah. Sorry.”

“Robin,” You looked at her as if she were insane. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m deadly serious. You know how my mother is,” She told you and then opened the passenger side door. “Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow. Get her home safe, Harrington. Bye.”

Before you could say anything, she was closing the car door behind her and practically running up her driveway and to her front porch steps, giving you two one final quick wave before heading inside. 

“She’s unbelievable,” You mumbled as you finished unbuckling your seatbelt and then opened the back door.

Steve became entirely confused by your actions. “You’re walking home?”

“No, it just feels too weird being in the back when the front seat is open,” You answered and then moved to the passenger seat. You met Steve’s eyes just for a second and then looked away.

“That could’ve been great practice for when I decide to pivot into my next job as a cab driver,” He said as he started driving, making a left turn at the end of Robin’s street and heading in the direction of your house.

You wanted to laugh at what you knew was a joke, but all you could focus on was how jarring it felt that he wasn’t turning right toward his place, like what would usually happen on these types of Friday nights. 

And it felt weird being in his passenger seat too. It no longer felt right to adjust the seat to how you liked it, or turn up the radio, or jokingly change the station to a country one because hearing the sound of a banjo always made him laugh for some reason. It only felt okay to sit with your hands in your lap and stare out the window at the houses passing by. Somehow, it was being here in his passenger seat, and feeling like a stranger within it, that reminded you of what you and Steve now were to each other.

You took another quick look at him. “Did you actually think I would’ve rather walked home instead of being alone in a car with you?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” 

“I don’t hate you, Steve.” 

“I know, but before tonight, you had made it really clear that we should never talk to each other again,” He responded, making another turn at another stop sign. “The only reason we hung out tonight was because of Robin.”

That was entirely true, but that was the last thing you wanted to talk about in this moment. 

“If anything, you should hate me. I’m the one who’s leaving.”

He immediately shook his head. “It would be really messed up if I were mad at you for going to college.” 

“Well, I mean, you did break up with me because of it,” You responded, which made Steve sigh. 

“Saying it like that makes it sound really fucked up.”

By the end of that hour-long breakup conversation two weeks ago, it had ended up feeling like a mutual thing, but at the end of the day, it was still Steve who had brought it up in the first place. 

“What other way is there to say it?” You weren’t trying to be mean to him in this moment, but you suddenly worried that the bluntness of your words made it come off that way, especially when he didn’t say anything in response to you at first, and a silence took over the car. 

“It was stupid,” Steve said softly, filling the prevailing quiet. “Probably one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done.” 

A part of you wanted to roll your eyes at his words, while the other part of you felt a tiny sliver of hope that inadvertently made your heart race. It was your turn to sigh. “Do you actually mean that?” 

When he broke up with you, he had talked about how long-distance relationships never worked and how they only prolonged the inevitable and always made the couple hate each other. Honestly, everything he was saying sounded like something you would have said; you’d always been the more logical thinker. However, when it came to you and Steve, you always inadvertently led with your heart over your head. 

“Yes, I wish I had never said it, but I just thought it was the right thing to do.”

“Because long-distance relationships never work?” You said, reminding him of what had been his main point when he broke things off. 

“No,” Steve shook his head. “Because you’re going to college and you’re gonna do great things, and I don’t wanna hold you back.”

That was not at all what you expected to hear from him.

It was so honest and vulnerable, and you suddenly saw that last conversation you two had entirely different, and all you could now do was replay the whole thing in your head.  

Barely a minute later, Steve was pulling up in front of your house. However, there was absolutely no way that you were getting out of his car now, not when he just dropped what felt equivalent to a bomb on you. 

“What?” You turned to look at him, finally responding to his previous words. “What does that even mean?”

“I don’t— I didn’t want things to get to the point where you started choosing me over really important opportunities,” Steve answered, meeting your eyes. 

For a second, all you could do was blink at him. You wanted to understand his words, and you wanted to fully see his point of view, you really did, but it was too hard to think rationally right then because you just felt so confused. 

“Nothing’s even happened yet. I’m not even there yet,” You told him, trying to keep your voice calm and steady, but it felt damn near impossible. “You were thinking about problems that don’t exist.”

“Once I started thinking about it, I couldn’t not think about it,” He responded. “And then I just wanted to rip off the band-aid, if that makes sense. End it before us being together started ruining things for you.”

You looked away from him then, slumping back in your seat. “You should’ve told me the truth, Steve. Not some bullshit reasons about long-distance relationships failing.”

“It was stupid,” Steve said, repeating the words that pretty much started this conversation in the first place. 

“It was,” You agreed, still staring straight ahead at your dark street. 

“And I’m sorry for lying to you. I wish I had just told you the truth instead of being a scared idiot,” He said, and you could only nod in response at first. 

There was too much running through your mind right then. It was a lot of contradictory thoughts and feelings that only confused you and went against everything that you’d convinced yourself was true over the last two weeks.

The breakup was hard, almost too hard, so you had told yourself that you needed to do the one thing that would be “easy” and force your brain to accept it; your heart was a completely different story, but you figured it would catch up eventually. However, now it was as if your head didn’t know what to do or think or feel, and your heart stupidly wanted to be completely truthful in this moment. 

“We would’ve figured everything out,” You told him after a few beats of silence. “I honestly think we could’ve made anything work. Long distance, random life changes, whatever. And I know that’s probably naive of me to say, but I really did believe in us.” You shook your head at yourself. “Somehow, we completely switched roles. You became the logical one and I became the hopeless romantic.”

“I don’t wanna be the logical one anymore. I tried it out and completely fucked everything up.”

“It’s…” You tried to figure out exactly what you wanted to say. There was so much you could’ve said right then, but your thoughts felt too scattered to form a coherent sentence. “It’s okay.”

The conversation came to its natural stopping point there. You didn’t know what else to say or do in this moment. This talk felt unfinished, but you had no idea how to finish it in a way that would make everything feel like it was wrapped up in a pretty little bow. In a perfect world, you and Steve would easily make up from here, pick up right where things left off, and pretend as if the last two weeks hadn’t happened. But, the world you two lived in wasn’t perfect, so you silently figured that maybe it would make more sense if you simply just left things as they now were. 

You started unbuckling your seatbelt. “It’s late. I’m gonna go.”

“You sure?” Steve asked, and you only nodded instead of saying anything. 

You pushed open the car door. “Night, Steve.”

“Night,” He responded softly and then proceeded to watch you walk away from his car. 

You were heading up your front porch steps, moments away from unlocking your door and heading inside, when Steve made the impulsive decision to unbuckle his seatbelt and run after you. 

“Wait,” His voice slightly startled you, and you turned around. He was racing up your steps to catch up to you, and you were about to ask him what he was doing, but he started speaking before the question could even form on your lips. “I think you’re right. No, scratch that, actually, I know you’re right. I want us to work, and I know we can, I really do. And I know you were speaking in past tense, so maybe you don’t believe in us anymore, but I still do. I’m such an idiot for overthinking everything, and I’m so sorry for not being honest about what I was thinking. If I could go back and do things completely different, I would, one thousand percent. I love you so goddamn much, and I don’t think that will ever change. And I know it’s my fault that we’re in this position in the first place, but I hope I didn’t ruin things so terribly that I can’t fix it. Because I really want to fix this—”

You cut off his rambling with a kiss; your hand found his cheek, and you slotted your lips against his. Steve reciprocated immediately, not wasting a second to kiss you back, even though he was slightly surprised by the action. 

It was the exact thing your heart needed in this moment, and it is what it had been aching and yearning for these past two weeks. 

Leaving things as they were made sense because it was technically easier, but it was far from what you actually wanted, and hearing Steve’s rambling apologies and how much he wanted to fix things only made you want to show him that you agreed completely; you didn’t want to give up on you two either. 

Kissing Steve felt like second nature to you, as if absolutely no time had passed since the last time his lips were on yours. In a way, it felt like coming back home.

When you pulled away, you met Steve’s eyes and gave him a soft smile. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He asked, eyes searching yours with a hopeful look on his face, as if that kiss hadn’t just said it all. 

You nodded at his words, and he didn’t hesitate to pull you in for a hug. His arms tightened around you, and you inwardly sighed in contentment at the feeling. You felt at ease in Steve’s arms, and all you wanted to do was grab his hand and lead him inside your house. Instead, though, you decided to savor this moment because there was no need to rush things; you two had all of the time in the world.

“I hope you know that Robin’s gonna say that this is all her doing,” You said, words slightly muffled because your face was buried in Steve’s neck, but he heard you clearly. 

From the moment Robin left you alone in the car with Steve, you knew exactly what she was trying to do, and you were now grateful for her abrupt plan; even though it had been very risky and could’ve potentially made things worse. 

Steve laughed a little at your words, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sound. “Oh yeah, and she’s never gonna let us forget this. This will definitely become her new favorite story to tell everyone.” 

You laughed too and pulled back so you could look up at him. “Definitely.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts<333

[emqqx]

omg pleasee please write a fic about Joe x reader getting caught by the paparazzi having a major pda moment during vacation or event

"Caught in the spot"

⋆⭒˚.⋆ Joe Keery x reader ⋆⭒˚.⋆

english is not my language please be kind and sorry if i wrote wrong :) requests are open if you want!

summary: While on a vacation you and Joe are swept up in a heated, very public pda moment that gets captured by paparazzi.

warnings: sexual content, public affection, fluff,makeout

The Mediterranean sun hung low in the sky, painting the cliffs of Capri in shades of gold and rose.

 You leaned against the balcony railing of the private villa Joe had rented for the week, the salty breeze tugging at the hem of your sundress. It had been six months since you and Joe started dating, six months of stolen weekends in LA, late night texts during his press tours, and quiet dinners at hidden restaurants where no one recognized you as anything more than “that girl with Joe.” 

The relationship was still new enough to feel electric, but serious enough that the word love had slipped out between kisses more than once.

Joe stepped up behind you, his arms sliding around your waist, his chin rested on your shoulder, the familiar scent of his sunscreen and cologne wrapping around you like a blanket.

 “You look like you’re thinking too hard,” he murmured, voice low and playful. “This is supposed to be a vacation, remember? No thinking, only ice cream and bad decisions.”

You laughed, turning in his arms to face him. His hair was longer than it had been during the last season of Stranger things, sun bleached at the tips and curling against his forehead. Those hazel eyes sparkled with mischief, the same eyes that had first caught yours at a mutual friend’s party.

 “Bad decisions, huh? Is that what you call sneaking me onto a yacht yesterday?”

“That was a great decision,” he corrected, dipping his head to brush his lips against yours. The kiss started soft, a lazy press of mouths, but Joe had never been good at keeping things light when it came to you, his hand came up to cup your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek as the kiss deepened. You melted into him, fingers threading through his hair, tasting the lingering sweetness of the limoncello you’d shared at lunch.

When you finally pulled back for air, his grin was crooked and devastating.

 “See? Best decision ever.”

The first three days of the trip had been perfect; private boat rides around the Faraglioni rocks, hiking the island’s winding paths hand in hand, and nights spent tangled in crisp white sheets with the windows open to the sea air. Joe was attentive in a way that still surprised you; bringing you coffee in bed, rubbing aloe on your sunburned shoulders, reciting terrible Italian phrases he’d learned from a phrasebook just to make you laugh.. being with him felt like stepping out of your ordinary life into something brighter, louder, more alive.

But privacy on an island popular with celebrities was fragile. You’d both noticed the occasional long lens camera glinting from distant boats, but Joe had shrugged it off. 

“They’ll get bored,” he said. “We’re not that interesting.” You weren’t so sure, Joe Keery was very interesting to a lot of people.

On the fourth evening, you decided to walk into town instead of staying hidden at the villa. Capri’s streets were alive with golden hour light, tourists and locals mingling around boutiques and cafés. Joe wore a baseball cap pulled low and sunglasses, but his height and easy swagger still turned heads. You wore a flowy white dress and sandals, your hand firmly in his as you wandered.

“ice cream?” he asked, nodding toward a small shop with a line spilling onto the cobblestones.

“of course,” you replied, already pulling him toward it.

You waited in line together, his arm draped casually over your shoulders. Every few seconds he’d lean down to whisper something in your ear, silly observations about the people around you, or reminders of inside jokes from earlier in the trip. When you finally got your cones, you found a quiet spot overlooking the harbor to sit on a low stone wall.

The ice cream was cold and sweet, but the real heat came from the way Joe looked at you. His free hand rested on your thigh, thumb tracing lazy circles against your skin.

 “You’ve got a little…” he said, leaning in and instead of wiping the ice cream from the corner of your mouth, he kissed it away. The gesture was so tender and possessive that your stomach flipped.

You turned toward him more fully, your own hand coming up to rest on his chest. The kiss that followed wasn’t quick, it was slow, indulgent,his lips were cool from the ice cream at first, then warming quickly as the kiss grew deeper. You sighed into his mouth, shifting closer until your bodies pressed together, Joe’s hand slid higher on your thigh, bunching the fabric of your dress slightly and the other hand cradled the back of your neck, fingers tangled in your hair.

Passersby blurred into the background. The distant hum of scooters and chatter faded. There was only Joe, his taste, his warmth, the low appreciative sound he made when you nipped at his bottom lip. He pulled you even closer, nearly lifting you onto his lap right there on the wall. Your free hand clutched at his shirt, ice creams forgotten as it began to melt down the cone.

“God, I love you,” he breathed against your lips when you parted for air, his forehead rested against yours, breaths mingling. “Like… stupid amounts.”

Your heart swelled. “I love you too, you dork.”

He kissed you again, this time with a smile curving his mouth. The moment was escalating, but in the golden light of Capri it felt romantic rather than reckless, his hand slipped under the hem of your dress, palm warm against your bare thigh and you let out a soft laugh that turned into a quiet gasp when his fingers traced higher.

 The world felt far away.

Until it didn’t.

The rapid click of camera shutters cut through the haze like gunfire. You jerked back, eyes widening and Joe’s head snapped toward the sound. 

A cluster of paparazzi had materialized at the edge of the square, three, maybe four photographers with massive lenses, snapping frantically, one was even crouched low for a better angle.

“Shit,” Joe muttered, but there was no real panic in his voice yet. He stood quickly, pulling you up with him and positioning his body slightly in front of yours. “Keep your head down, baby.”

Your cheeks burned as you realized how you must look, lips swollen, dress slightly rumpled, ice cream dripping onto the stones. Joe’s cap had been knocked askew during the kiss, revealing more of his recognizable face.

 The cameras kept clicking, voices calling out in italian and english.

“Joe! Over here!”

“Are you two official?”

“Who is she?”

He kept one arm firmly around your waist, guiding you away from the wall and toward a narrower street that led back toward the villa’s direction.

 “Just walk, okay? Don’t give them anything.”

Your heart hammered, part of you wanted to laugh at the absurdity, getting caught making out like teenagers in a public square. Another part felt exposed, vulnerable. You’d known this was a risk, but experiencing it was different. 

Joe’s jaw was tight, but he kept glancing at you with concern, squeezing your side reassuringly.

The paparazzi followed, relentlessly, one particularly bold photographer darted ahead, blocking your path for a second to get a frontal shot. Joe’s free hand came up instinctively, not shoving but shielding.

 “Come on, man, give us some space.”

You kept your face turned into his shoulder, letting him lead. The walk back felt endless, even though the villa wasn’t far, by the time you reached the private gate, your legs were shaky. Joe punched in the code quickly, pulling you inside and shutting the gate firmly behind you. The paparazzi couldn’t follow onto private property, but their cameras kept flashing through the bars until you disappeared up the path.

Inside the villa, the cool tile floors and soft lighting felt like a sanctuary and Joe immediately pulled you into his arms, holding you tight

. “I’m so sorry,” he said, voice muffled against your hair. “I got carried away, should’ve been more careful.”

You pulled back to look at him, his expression was a mix of guilt and lingering heat.

 “Joe, it’s not your fault...” A nervous laugh escaped you. “We were basically putting on a show.”

His lips twitched into a reluctant smile.

 “Yeah… it was a pretty good show.” He brushed a strand of hair from your face, thumb lingering on your cheek. “You okay?”

You nodded, though your pulse was still racing. “Just… surprised, I  knew it could happen, but actually seeing the cameras…” You shuddered. “Do you think they got a lot?”

“Probably everything,” he admitted with a grimace. “That last kiss was… thorough.”

Heat flooded your face again, thorough was an understatement, you could still feel the ghost of his hand on your thigh, the way he’d pulled you close like he wanted to devour you right there on the harbor wall.

Joe’s phone started buzzing almost immediately, he glanced at the screen and sighed. “Management and my publicist… Great.” He silenced it for now, setting the phone face down on the counter. “They can wait, right now I just want to be with you.”

He led you out to the terrace overlooking the sea, where the sun had finally dipped below the horizon. You sat together on the wide outdoor sofa, your legs draped over his lap as his hand stroked up and down your calf in soothing motions.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said after a while, voice quiet. “Maybe we stop hiding so much, not that I want to invite cameras everywhere, but… I don’t want to sneak around like we’re doing something wrong.”

Your heart stuttered. “Really?”

“Really.” He turned to face you fully, expression earnest. “These last six months have been the best of my life… I don’t want to keep that private forever… even if it means dealing with idiots with cameras.”

You cupped his face, leaning in to kiss him softly, this time there was no urgency from the public eye, just tenderness.

 “I feel the same… but maybe next time we save the major pda for more private balconies.”

He chuckled against your lips. “Deal, though I make no promises when you wear that dress.”

The kiss that followed was just as heated as the one in Capri, Joe’s hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him on the wide outdoor sofa, your fingers slid into his hair, tugging gently the way you knew he liked. A low sound rumbled in his chest, half laugh, half groan as he nipped at your lower lip before soothing it with his tongue.His palm slipped beneath the hem of your sundress again, warm and sure against your thigh, but this time it stayed teasingly low, a promise rather than a public claim. You smiled into the kiss, breaking it just enough to rest your forehead against his.

“You’re impossible,” you whispered, breathless.

“Only for you,” he replied, hazel eyes dark and sparkling in the low light. He brushed his nose against yours in that sweet, boyish way that always made your heart flip.

 “Come on. Let’s take this inside before I break our new rule on the first night.”

He stood, scooping you up effortlessly despite your laughing protest, your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you through the open terrace doors, kissing you the whole way.

 The villa’s cool tile floors met your bare feet when he finally set you down in the bedroom, but the heat between you never cooled.

Clothes came off slowly this time, his t-shirt first, then your dress pooling at your feet. Joe’s mouth traced a path down your neck, across your collarbone, worshipping every inch. You pushed him gently onto the edge of the bed and climbed into his lap, straddling him, his hands roamed your back, thumbs pressing into the dip of your spine while you rocked against him, drawing out soft curses and your name like a prayer.

“I love you,” he murmured against your skin, over and over, as the rhythm built. “So much it’s ridiculous.”

When you finally came together, it was slow and intense, eyes locked, breaths shared.

 No cameras. No world watching. Just the two of you, tangled in white sheets and moonlight spilling through the open windows.

Afterward, you lay curled against his chest, his fingers drawing lazy patterns on your bare shoulder, the distant sound of waves lulled you both toward sleep.

“We’re really doing this, huh?” you said softly, tracing the faint freckles across his chest. “Going public… for real.”

Joe pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Yeah, and I’m not scared, a little annoyed at the lack of privacy, sure, but not scared. Not about us.” He tilted your chin up so you could see his face. “You make everything better, even the chaos.”

You kissed him once more, soft and lingering, before settling back against him.

 Sleep came easily that night, wrapped in his arms with the Italian breeze cooling your heated skin.

Taglist: @watercolorskyy, @deviousfaye , @watercolorskyy , @l33nlikeacholo @ophirei @leahfaith @bluehexagon8 @unclejeezysblog@sweatydjoshoes

masterlist

[jinxispunk]

can u plspslspslsoslspls do a part 2 of nap trap😔it was soooo good

firstly, thank you guys SO much for all the love on nap trap 😭 i genuinely did not expect a sleepy little domestic fic about steve playing with reader’s hair to blow up like that, so seeing how many people connected with it has been so lovely <3

also tysm to the anon who requested this part 2!! and @megs0118 i LOVED your idea about reader eventually asking for it because ohhhh steve would absolutely lose his mind over that. so this one is for both of you <3

nap trap pt.2

Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: Hearing you ask for Steve's hands in your hair affects him significantly more than expected.

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, minors DNI, no use of y/n, established relationship, fluff, touch-starved reader, touch-starved steve harrington, praise, reader being obsessed with steve’s hands, comfort fic, mildly suggestive at points (lmk if i missed anything)

W/C: 1.2k

Read part 1 of nap trap here: [nap trap]

Read more of my writing here: [masterlist]

Usually Steve can track exactly how tired you are based on the pace of your conversation.

Fast and animated means fully awake.

Long pauses between thoughts means fading fast.

Complete silence means one of two things: you’re upset, or you’re unconscious.

Considering you’re currently curled against his side beneath three blankets watching terrible late-night television while rain rattles softly against the windows, Steve’s betting heavily on option two.

Still, he glances down just to check.

You’re blinking slowly up at the ceiling while his fingers drift lazily through your hair, very clearly fighting sleep with the determination of somebody losing badly.

Steve bites back a smile immediately.

“Hey sleepyhead,” he murmurs.

Your eyes narrow weakly. “Don’t start.”

“Start what?”

“The smug thing.”

Steve looks deeply unconvincing. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You absolutely do.”

His grin only widens as his nails scrape lightly against your scalp again.

Your entire body softens against him on instinct.

That immediate reaction that’s become so familiar over the past few months, Steve barely notices himself doing it anymore. The tiny exhale you make every single time his hands slide properly into your hair. The way your shoulders loosen beneath his arm. The gradual heaviness of your body settling more fully against his side.

It’s honestly ridiculous how effective it is.

Robin still calls him “human melatonin.”

Dustin’s started referring to him exclusively as “the Sandman.”

And unfortunately for everyone involved, both accusations are pretty accurate.

Especially now.

Because Steve’s barely touched your hair for thirty seconds before your eyes start drifting shut again.

“You’re doing it on purpose,” you mumble.

“I’m literally just touching your hair.”

“No,” you say sleepily. “You’re weaponising affection.”

Steve laughs quietly under his breath.

The thing is, he genuinely can’t deny it anymore.

Not when he knows exactly what this does to you now.

Not when some embarrassingly soft part of him likes it far too much.

Likes the trust of it.

The way you’ll fall asleep practically anywhere if he’s touching you gently enough. How instinctively you seek him out when you’re tired. The fact your body relaxes around him before you even consciously realise it’s happening.

That part affects him more than he’d ever admit out loud.

Which is why, when you suddenly tilt your head slightly against his shoulder and mumble, “Can you do the thing again?” Steve nearly loses coherent thought completely.

He looks down at you.

“…the thing?”

Your eyes stay shut.

“The hair thing.”

Something painfully fond twists low in Steve’s chest.

Because usually this happens accidentally. One of you ends up sprawled against the other during a film, or tangled together in bed, or sitting on the floor listening to music while Steve’s hands wander absentmindedly into your hair without either of you thinking much about it.

This is different.

This is you asking for it.

Actively seeking him out for comfort.

Steve clears his throat once. “Uh. Yeah. Obviously.”

You make a sleepy little humming noise immediately, shifting closer until your leg hooks loosely over his beneath the blanket.

Clingy.

Half asleep.

Trusting him completely.

Steve’s heart genuinely doesn’t stand a chance.

His fingers slide properly into your hair this time, scratching softly against your scalp while rain taps steadily against the windows outside.

The reaction is immediate.

Your breathing deepens slightly. Your whole body melts more heavily into his side. One of your hands curls absentmindedly into the fabric of his hoodie like you need something to hold onto while you drift off.

Steve stares down at you for a second.

“…Jesus Christ,” he mutters quietly.

You crack one eye open. “What?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Says the man who accidentally Pavlov’d his girlfriend.”

Steve grins despite himself. “You almost started purring last week.”

“I did not.”

“You absolutely did.”

Your face disappears briefly into his chest in protest while Steve laughs softly, fingers never stopping their slow rhythm through your hair.

The room settles comfortably quiet after that.

Thunder rumbles somewhere in the distance while some awful commercial flickers silently across the television neither of you are really watching anymore.

Steve notices every stage of your exhaustion now.

The slower blinking.

The increasingly delayed responses.

The way your body gradually gets heavier against his side like gravity affects you more whenever he touches your hair for long enough.

“You’re falling asleep already,” he murmurs eventually.

“No I’m not.”

“You just stopped talking halfway through a sentence.”

“I was thinking.”

“Mhm.”

“I was.”

Steve smiles to himself as your words start blurring together slightly from tiredness.

“You’re so pleased with yourself about this,” you mumble.

“Can you blame me?”

“Yes.”

“Unfortunately for you,” Steve says quietly, “this might actually be my greatest achievement.”

That gets a soft laugh out of you.

It fades quickly into a yawn instead.

Steve feels something warm settle painfully beneath his ribs at the sound.

Because this is the thing nobody really sees about him. Not the babysitter jokes or the stupidity or the pretending not to care.

Just this.

How badly Steve likes being safe for somebody.

How naturally he settles into taking care of the people he loves. How much he quietly craves these tiny domestic moments nobody else would even notice.

You shift sleepily against him again until your face ends up tucked properly into the crook of his neck.

“Feels nice,” you murmur eventually.

Steve glances down. “What does?”

“Your hands.”

The words come out so drowsy and sincere they nearly ruin him on the spot.

You don’t even realise what you’re doing to him.

Or maybe you do.

Because your eyes blink open slightly afterwards, finding his face in the dim orange light.

“You okay?”

Steve huffs a quiet laugh through his nose.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Just think you might actually be trying to kill me.”

Your lips twitch sleepily. “Why?”

“Because you say stuff like that while lookin’ like this.”

“Like what?”

Steve gestures vaguely toward you.

Curled against his chest beneath a mountain of blankets. Sleep-heavy eyes. Hair completely messed up from his hands.

“…cute,” he finishes weakly.

You smile lazily at that.

Then immediately move even closer.

Which honestly feels a little unfair.

Steve’s fingers slow briefly in your hair as he watches your eyes drift shut again.

“You know,” you mumble eventually, voice already heavy with sleep, “I think this might genuinely be my favourite thing too.”

Something warm twists painfully through Steve’s chest.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You nuzzle slightly against his throat. “Makes me feel safe.”

Oh, that one nearly takes him out completely.

Steve goes very still for a second before leaning down to press a slow kiss against your forehead.

His hand never leaves your hair.

“C’mere,” he murmurs quietly, pulling the blankets higher around your shoulders.

You make another sleepy little noise immediately, practically melting against him now.

Steve could probably stay exactly like this forever.

Especially when, less than five minutes later, your breathing finally evens out completely against his chest.

Dead asleep.

Again.

Steve looks down at you for a long moment before shaking his head quietly to himself, still combing gentle fingers through your hair.

“…this is definitely a superpower,” he murmurs.

You snore softly in response.

Steve grins so hard it almost hurts.

dividers by saradika-graphics

[gardenias-on-the-tile]

Steve Harrington needs you. So bad.

x fem!reader, SMUT! mdni

content warnings: oral (f receiving), p in v, creampie, filthy!! no use of y/n

That's why he's practically speeding to your house, his work uniform still on—no time to change when he feels like he's about to die without you.

The way he shows up makes you genuinely worried. He's ringing the bell like crazy, that's how eager to see you he is.

And when you open the door, ready to ask him what's wrong, you're immediately met with a kiss that makes you weak in the knees.

His hands firmly cupping your face, lips moving against yours, his tongue already searching for a way into your mouth. 

It's sudden, but you don't fight it. You welcome him, exactly like you've done many times before, your tongue as eager as his, hands coming up to tug at his hair.

"I missed you." he confesses into your mouth, lips clumsily over yours. "So, so much."

"We haven't seen each other in...like a couple hours." you giggle, trying to uphold the kiss.

"Felt like months." he says, before slamming the door behind you and then quickly pining you to the surface. "I need you so bad."

He's on his knees in seconds, big hands resting on your hips, slightly tugging at the waistband of your shorts.

"Let me, please." 

The way he's looking up at you makes your breath hitch, your thighs squeezing uncontrollably just before his face.

You mutter a quiet yes, your hands landing over his and gently guiding the waistband down. 

"Fuck, you're so wet." he says, getting rid of your shorts completely. "So perfect for me."

He starts peppering kisses all over your thighs, your lower belly, and then finally—his lips land where you need him the most.

His gaze finds your face just as his tongue slowly slips into your folds, both of you whimpering at the sensation.

He's handling you like an expert, doing everything right, touching you exactly how he knows you like.

"So fucking sweet." he murmurs into you, working faster as you get more vocal, moans starting to fill the quiet corridor.

"Steve...oh my god." you praise, your eyes never leaving each other.

You watch how hard he works between your legs, how his nose keeps rubbing against your clit, how good he's making you feel.

And he's watching how you slowly fall apart, how your mouth parts under the pleasure—your moans getting louder, breaths more shallow.

"Need you to ride my face so bad, baby." he says, hands grabbing onto your ass, almost pushing you into him.

And you do. Your hips start to rock to meet his mouth, grinding on it harder, using him to get all the pleasure you need.

"I'm so close..." 

You cry out when Steve slips his finger into your wet pussy, the sensation so intense that your head drops back against the door, moaning his name over and over.

"Now, show me."

"Steve, Steve oh my god..." you manage to say.

And that only makes him more eager. He doesn't stop, he devours you, licking into you like a man starved. Your whole body is on fire, you swear you can feel pleasure in every fucking nerve.

And when you finally start to come down from the high, you have to bring him back to reality too, his mouth not stopping until you tug at his hair.

"Give me a minute to breathe, Harrington." you laugh, lovingly cupping his face into your hands.

He's beautifully ruined. Nose, chin, all smeared with evidence of your pleasure, of his hard work.

"I'm not done yet." he says, standing up and capturing your lips with his, once again kissing you with so much eagerness.

His hands are everywhere, trailing up from your thighs, hips, grabbing onto your breasts and squeezing them. 

"One would think you're trying to seduce me." you laugh against his mouth, but that quickly changes into a breathless moan when Steve turns you around and pushes into a small cabinet.

"I don't need to try, do I?" he whispers against your ear, taking off your shirt and leaving you completely bare.

"What are you–" but you don't get to finish, because his fingers clasp around your nipples, squeezing them teasingly.

He kisses your neck, playing with the sensitive buds until you're aching and ready for him again. 

He leans your body against the cabinet top, your back and ass perfectly in display for his view. 

You look back, watching him undress from that work uniform you honestly loved, and admire as your eyes fall down. His cock is fucking huge, already leaking from all the excitement.

"Like what you see?" he teases, pumping himself a few times before pushing the tip into your entrance, both of you whining at the contact.

"Fuck me, Steve. Please." 

And you don't have to ask twice, because he's immediately pushing deeper, your body already so familiar with him.

After a minute he's already rocking into you like crazy, his hips snapping hard against your skin. You have to cling onto the cabinet to ease all the extra movement, your knuckles going white with the force. 

He's fucking you so well, so good that you're unable to think, your mind in a haze of pleasure as moans slip out of you uncontrollably.

"Fuck, you're taking me so good like this, so fucking hot." he says between his own moans, almost like he's reading your thoughts. "I was ready to come when I was eating you out, not gonna last much longer."

You moan, your hard nipples coming in contact with the cabinet with every move now, adding to the pleasure.

"Finish inside, please Stevie." you whine, eyes rolling back as bliss washes over you again, this time even more intense. You swear you can feel yourself leaking onto his cock, straight down to your quivering thighs.

"Oh, fuck yes." he manages to say between his labored breaths, warmth immediately spilling into you. "Thank you, thank you, baby."

He's muttering nonsense and praising you until his voice completely dies down, the corridor growing quiet again.

You stay like this for a while, just being still and basking in all that has happened, until you feel the emptiness, suddenly not used to being without him.

He gently takes your body into his arms, kissing your lips, nose, cheeks, even forehead.

"Let's take a bath, sounds good to you?" he asks sweetly, looking at you with adoration.

You smile, slowly pecking his jaw, hugging your body closer to his.

"Only if I can watch you prepare everything."

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

interactions appreciated:)

[athenas-rose]

I love ur ficss they r amzing

Can u write one where steve always acts like he understands wht reader muffled something incoherently in her sleep he goes yh yh or like I know right he just finds her cute and one day reader get to know abt it

Talk Nonsense To Me

Steve Harrington x fem!reader 600 words

warnings: fluff, sleep talking,

You’re mortified at the revelation of you talking in your sleep, luckily Steve thinks it’s the most adorable thing ever

It doesn’t take Steve long to notice. The first time it happens, your head is tucked against his shoulder, resting on his couch during a movie marathon you should’ve been awake for.

“Mff…no, ice cream doesn’t go on pizza…”

Steve blinks, shifting slightly but cautiously in order not to wake you.

“…Yeah, absolutely,” he answers without missing a beat. “The saltiness doesn’t go well with the sweetness.”

You don’t even hear him, just continuing to snore softly and go back to whatever debate you were having. And somehow, it becomes a thing.

Whenever you mumble nonsense in your sleep, Steve always answers like it’s second nature now, like you are having a totally normal back and forth conversation.

“Mmm, blue strawberries…”

Steve nodded, though that food made complete zero sense. “Sounds yummy.”

At first it had just made him laugh, but now it became something he would look forward to. You mostly talked about things you liked, rambling about every topic that filled your dreams.

One night, you were fast asleep while Steve was just listening soundly to your even breaths, holding you close against his own warm body.

“Steve…” you grumble, and Steve reacts with thinking, responding with muscle memory as if you're still awake.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I miss you.” His breath catches, your words catching him off guard. Even in your conscious you still longed for him, and though your physical form remains present, he longed for you even more.

“I’m right here, honey.” Steve whispers into the night, tucking you closer as if to reassure you that he wasn’t going anywhere.

But the only problem is that you don’t remember any of it, and Steve likes to keep that to himself.

It came to an end when Robin crashed your place in the morning, eating the breakfast Steve had made for you as he chatted loudly.

“She told me yesterday that she climbed the Great Wall of China." Steve said, just as you rounded the corner.

You froze in your tracks, he surely couldn’t have been talking about you, could he? “I told you what?”

Steve turned around casually, “what, do you not remember it?” He knew you of course wouldn’t have, but there was no harm in playing around with you a bit as he watched your expression turn more confused by the minute.

After a couple of moments, a horrifying realization spread across your face. “Wait—I had a dream about it.” You said slowly.

Steve grinned wickedly. “Uh huh, and you told me all about it.”

“You’re lying.”

“And apparently you enjoy blue strawberries.”

You cover your face with your hands as Robin bellows over in laughter. “That doesn’t even exist.” You said mortified.

Steve shrugged, looking far too pleased with himself. “According to you, it does.”

“Why have you never told me this?” You sigh.

“Because it’s cute.” He says without hesitation, making you pause.

“Cute?” Robin repeats, still having not recovered from her laughing attack.

“You mumble weird stuff, I answer. It’s our thing.” Steve says like it’s obvious, your cheeks flushing with the thought of all the possible things you could’ve accidentally confessed to in your sleep.

“You guys are sickening.” Robin cuts in, but none of you turn to look at her.

“So every time I talk nonsense, you respond…and you don’t think it’s weird?” You point at him.

“At first—strange, but I’ve gotten used to it.” Steve shook his head, his words coming out fondly.

You suddenly felt a rush of affection towards him, you wouldn’t know how to react if someone started talking to you in their sleep, but Steve hadn’t even mentioned it to you about it until now.

“But I guess my favorite one was when you said you missed me.” He winked slyly.

You immediately groaned, hiding your blush from him. At least he wouldn’t know even your dreams were consumed by the thought of him.

[hanwritesthings]

Could you do one where you met Joe at a festival and your like dancing and kinda in your own little world and he’s like “ok wow she’s pretty” and yeah

festival meet cute - joe keery

pairing: joe keery x reader

word count: 774

you didn’t even plan to go to lollapalooza. but a last minute text from your friend saying she snagged some free tickets from a coworker who could no longer go had you jumping on the opportunity.

you didn’t have any elaborate outfit planned, you only knew half of the lineup and none of the set schedules. you were just going purely for fun and the spontaneity of it all.

you’d spent the whole day wandering around the festival grounds, eating, drinking, and just listening to the music. it was a nice change to the usual festival experience you were used to. going for specific artists, having the stages and sets memorized, getting to certain stages hours before a specific act came on so you could get a good spot.

you were simply vibing.

after the sun set, you and your friends found yourself near the back of the crowd for an artist you hadn’t heard of before.

the world around you don’t exist. you just danced around and laughed with your friends without a care.

you were so in the moment that you didn’t even notice the eyes on you from somewhere across the crowd.

joe and the band didn’t play until the following night, so they had the entire night to let loose and enjoy the festival fully.

the group had settled in the back of the crowd of some band adam and javi insisted on watching. joe sipped his beer, nodding along to the beat. as he listened, he let his gaze wander the crowd, watching different people in the crowd and taking in their expressions.

then his eyes landed on you. and they never left.

the way you danced around, laughing lively enthralled him. he couldn’t pull his gaze from you. the way you glowed in the festival lights.

you were beautiful.

it took one song for anyone to notice joe’s attention was no longer on the set.

wes stares up at his friend then follows his gaze, a shit eating grin spreading across his face.

“i think joe’s found the love of his life.” he announces to the group, who all turn to look at joe and where his attention was across the crowd.

joe snapped his head to his friends, cheeks flushing. “what? i’m just people watching.”

wes just snorts. “whatever you say, man.”

it took two more songs before joe’s feet began moving. before he even could process it, he was half way to you. he hadn’t even planned what he was going to say.

your dancing had turned into a softer sway and you sip on your drink and caught your breath.

“hi.” joe’s smooth voice cut through the music, making your eyes flicker up to him.

“hi,” you say with a smile.

“i was over there with my friends and i saw you and i just couldn’t look away,” joe says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“man, was my dancing that bad? i’ve only had a couple of drinks, i swear.” you joke.

“no, you just looked so beautiful.” the words leave joe’s lips before he knew what he was saying. the tips of his ears burned with a blush as he stumbles over his words.

“sorry, that sounds corny. i really do mean it. you’re just, wow. yeah.”

you can’t help but be endeared by his nervous words.

“you’re right, that is corny. but i believe you. i’m flattered, thank you,” you say through a chuckle.

you fell in to conversation easily after that. you mention that coming here was a very last minute plan and he mentions he was one of the performers.

if there was any flash of recognition in your mind, you didn’t make it known. you didn’t immediately shift the conversation to who he was. in that moment, joe felt like just joe.

because that’s who you saw. not joe keery, the actor. not djo, the musician playing on one of th main stages the next day. he was just joe.

and that made something warm settle in his chest.

something ordinary he hadn’t felt in a while. a feeling that became lost along the way between rising fame and filling schedules.

it was a feeling joe wanted to chase and hold onto.

so when the festival winded down for the night and both of you were reluctant to part ways, you put your number in joe’s phone and he promised to find you tomorrow.

after you walked away with your friends, but not before giving joe a hug and a quick kiss to his cheek, joe stumbled back over to his group with a dazed smile on his face.

[athenas-rose]

Can u pls write one where steve can never say no to reader whatever it is she does the best puppy eyes and he gives in and all the older members in the party tease him about it when it happens in front of them

How Could I Say No ᝰ.ᐣ

Steve Harrington x fem!reader 500 words

Warnings: Fluff, down bad Steve, manipulation,

Steve’s restraint disappears the moment you hit him with those puppy dog eyes, making him cave to whatever you want immediately

Steve thought he had more control over his self-restraint, at least he thought he did until you found the upper hand on him. Clutching a bag of chocolate sweets in your hands—you’re absolute favorite, you started wining to have them. The problem was that you two were soon going out for lunch, and Steve knew you would be too full to eat anything then if you ate them now.

“No.” Steve didn’t even look up, but it only made you steadfast.

“Please, Stevie?” You begged, stepping closer.

“Nope,” He said, popping the p. “Sorry, baby, but the last time you ate dessert before lunch, you refused to finish it.”

You groaned, “I swear I’ll eat this time.”

“Mm-mm,” he sounded, shaking his head swiftly.

A beat passed, Steve thinking you had finally given up. Then you hit him with the full package—wide puppy dog eyes, the cutest pout of your lips, head tilted slightly to the side.

He looked back up and you caught the exact moment his heart melted, lasting no more than two seconds. “…Fine.”

You instantly ripped the bag open, letting out a delighted squeak. “But only one!” Steve rushed to say, pretending to ignore the way you had already scooped a handful.

Once you discovered your secret tactic you wouldn’t let it go, especially since Steve was so quick to give in.

The arcade was buzzing with neon lights flashing, kids running around, and Eddie complaining loudly for the fifth time that he couldn’t beat his high score while Robin took pride in showing hers off in comparison.

Steve had left momentarily to retrieve some food for you all, and your eyes fell on the claw machine. Not to mention your bad history with the game—time and time again you’ve tried to win the same prize, only to walk away empty handed.

Once Steve resurfaced in your line of vision, you gasped with an idea, if there was someone who had enough determination to beat the thing, it was your boyfriend.

Eddie and Robin turned as you latched onto Steve’s arm, dragging him towards the machine. “Can you win this prize for me?” You asked sweetly, gesturing towards the bear trapped in the see through box.

“It’s a claw machine,” Steve responded. “It’s rigged, meaning literally designed to keep you from winning.”

“But I really really want it, and I believe in you.” You furrowed your brows, and with barely any effort, presented your best puppy dog eyes at him.

Steve stiffened, trying not to crumble under the weight of your poor expression, but failing miserably. He rubbed his jaw, before dropping his head. “Looks like we’re about to lose all of our quarters.”

Eddie grinned, “Dude—you seriously folded.”

Steve shot him an unimpressed look, fishing change out of his back pocket. “Get a grip on yourself, dingus.” Robin added, letting out a disbelief laugh.

“It’s not my fault, she just does that and I can’t—” Steve weakly explained.

“It’s okay, we get it.” Robin said sympathetically. “You’re just incredibly whipped for your girl.” She nodded.

Steve didn’t even respond, because he didn’t need to, having already realized that for himself ages ago.

“Time to show this claw how it’s done.” He squinted, beginning to maneuver the handle around carefully.

At the sight of the happiest look on your face with the plush toy tucked under your arm, Steve didn’t regret being easy, not one bit.

[fullofdelusionx]

I've Got You, Both Of You

Pairing: Joe Keery x You

W/C: 18.4k

Summary: The last thing you expect four weeks after giving birth is to be cheated on but when your friend group come together to help out, things start to take shape again. 3am wake up calls, bedtime routines and milestones are no longer something you have to do alone.

The silence was what got to you the most. Not the crying at 3am or the endless pile of laundry multiplying in the corner of every room. Not even the ache that still lingered through your body a month after giving birth, it was the silence.

For 6 years, your life had always been loud. Loud arguments, loud apologies, loud promises that things would be different this time. You'd met your now ex shortly after moving to New York. You were young, hopeful, and stubborn enough to believe love could fix almost anything, and for a while, you thought it had. The relationship had never been stable, your friends had pointed it out countless times over the years, usually after another breakup.

"You deserve better" "He keeps doing the same thing" "Why do you always take him back?"

The answer was always simple, because you loved him, or maybe because you loved the version of him he became for a few weeks after every fight. The version who brought flowers home, who kissed your forehead before going to work, who made you believe the bad times were finally behind you but the cycle would soon start again.

By your sixth year together, you were exhausted, but you also found out you were pregnant, and with that news somehow, for a little while, things actually seemed different. He would come to appointments, you spoke about names, he painted the nursery, he even held your hand during labour. For one moment, you thought maybe becoming parents had changed him, till 4 weeks after your son was born. You walked into your apartment and found another woman standing in your kitchen. You could still remember every detail. You had taken Jacob for his one month check up and to grab some groceries, you came home and saw the half finished wine glasses on the side, the panic on her face, the guilt on his and the baby carrier hanging from your shoulder while your newborn slept peacefully on your chest through the moment your entire relationship shattered.

You didn't scream, you didn't cry, you didn't throw anything, you simply looked at him and realised you were officially done. 6 years, finished. Within hours, his belongings were packed into trash bags and sitting outside the apartment door. He begged, he apologised, he promised but you'd heard it all before. This time, you closed the door and you never opened it again.

The first few weeks afterwards blurred together. Constant routine of feedings, diaper changes, cleaning bottles, changing his clothes, no sleep and repeat. You barely left the apartment, your phone buzzed constantly with texts from friends, missed calls, voicemails. All of them checking in and asking if you were okay, wanting to see Jacob, and why you'd disappeared. You answered one or two, but most of them were left on read because the truth was you weren't okay. You were tired, so unbelievably tired. You looked in the mirror and barely recognised yourself most days. Your hair was constantly tied up, greasy and looking almost matted. Dark circles lived beneath your eyes which you swore grew by the day. Your body felt foreign, all the excess skin, the stretch marks, you wasn't use to it. Your apartment looked like a tornado had passed through it on the best of days. Some days you forgot to eat until late afternoon and other days you remembered and simply didn't have the energy.

Meanwhile, your ex had vanished. Not a visit, not a phone call, not a text asking about his son, nothing. At first, you kept expecting him to show up but then you stopped expecting anything at all. That somehow hurt worse.

One rainy Thursday afternoon, Jacob finally fell asleep after nearly an hour of fussing. You carefully lowered him into his bassinet that was next to you in the living room, held your breath, waited, and when he stayed asleep, you sank onto the couch with a groan. The apartment was dim, illuminated only by the gap in the curtains and the TV. Your phone buzzed against the coffee table and you ignored it, just like you usually did. It buzzed again, and again, and again. With a sigh, you reached over. 3 missed calls and 6 texts all from Becca.

Becca had been your friend for years. One of the first people you'd met after moving to New York. She was persistent, loyal and completely incapable of taking a hint when she thought someone needed help. A new message appeared as you started at the screen.

Becca If you don't answer me, I'm coming over.

Becca And yes, that was a threat.

Becca Can't keep me from seeing my best friend and my mini best friend any longer

For the first time in weeks, a tiny smile tugged at your lips, then your phone rang. Becca. You considered ignoring it, instead, you answered.

"Hello?"

There was a dramatic gasp from the other end, "Oh my god she answers!".

You rolled your eyes, "Hi Becca".

"No, absolutely not. We're not doing that. I've been worried sick about you both"

Your gaze drifted toward the bassinet where your son slept peacefully, "I'm fine".

"You sound terrible, I won't lie"

"Thanks"

"You know what I mean" And you did. Becca sighed, "Can I come over?".

Part of you wanted to say no, the other part, the lonely part, wanted someone, anyone, to walk through that front door. After a long pause, you finally answered, "Okay".

Becca didn't hesitate, "Good. Be there in 20", then the call ended. You stared at the screen for a moment before setting it down. 20 minutes. 20 minutes until someone finally stepped back into your life. 20 minutes turned into 15. You barely had enough time to wipe your face before a knock sounded at the apartment door.

When you opened it, Becca immediately frowned, "Oh..."

You hated that look. The one people got when they saw you and realised you weren't actually doing okay.

"Hi" you mumbled.

Becca stepped inside, carrying two coffee cups and a paper bag, "You look awful".

A laugh escaped you despite yourself, "Good to see you too".

"I'm serious"

The apartment was quiet except for the soft hum of the TV. Jacob was asleep in the bassinet beside the couch, blissfully unaware of everything. Becca set the drinks down then she looked at you properly. The oversized sweatshirt, messy hair, dark circles, the clear top of your adult nappy poking through the top of your sweatpants. The way you seemed to be holding yourself together through sheer stubbornness, "Oh, honey".

That was all it took, and the tears came instantly. One second you were standing there and the next you were sobbing into her shoulder. Becca wrapped her arms around you without hesitation as months of emotions came pouring out. You told her everything, you'd been holding so much in that it all just spilled as soon as you started. About Jack, finding him cheating, kicking him out, how he hadn't come to see Jacob once, you cried harder when you said that. Then came how much you hated your body right now, how every stretch mark felt like another reminder of everything that had happened, none of your clothes fit, how you hadn't slept properly in months, the apartment feeling impossible to keep on top of, and finally "I just feel like I'm failing". The words came out broken.

Becca immediately pulled back, "No".

You shook your head, "I am".

"No, you're not"

"Becca..."

"You're keeping a tiny human alive by yourself after being cheated on 4 weeks postpartum. You're exhausted, heartbroken and running on no sleep. That's not failing" Fresh tears slipped down your cheeks and Becca squeezed your hand, "That's surviving". For a long moment neither of you spoke, then she glanced toward the sleeping baby, "Okay".

You sniffed, "Okay what?"

"Okay, here's what's happening, you're going to bed".

"What?"

"Bed"

"I can't just-"

"Yes, you can"

"The baby's asleep now but he'll wake up soon"

"I know how bottles work. I looked after my nieces and nephews"

"Becca-"

"Go. Now"

You stared at her, she stared back and eventually you lost. An hour later your head hit the pillow. For the first time in what felt like forever, you slept, like really slept. No half awake dozing off, or listening out for every tiny noise, just slept like the past few months never happened.

When you finally woke up, sunlight was pouring through the bedroom window and for a second you panicked. Jacob. How long had you been asleep? You shot upright before hearing his noises from the other room, your heart immediately calmed. Slowly, you got out of bed and wandered toward the doorway then stopped. The apartment looked completely different. Not perfect, or from some magazine article, but clean. The dishes were gone, laundry had been folded, empty bottles had been washed and in the steriliser, trash had been taken out, you could have cried. All whilst Jacob laid happily in his swing while Becca made faces at him from the couch.

She looked up, "Oh, sleeping beauty rises". You immediately burst into tears, again. "Oh, come on" Becca groaned affectionately.

"You cleaned"

"Little bit"

"You cleaned everything" You laughed through tears, then cried harder.

Becca stood and hugged you, "You don't have to thank me at all".

"Thank you"

She rolled her eyes and you looked around once more, noticing several grocery bags lined neatly along the kitchen counter, "You bought groceries?".

"I ordered groceries"

"You didn't have to do that"

"You had half a carton of VERY expired milk, ketchup and a questionable lettuce"

You wiped your eyes. At this point crying felt like your full time hobby.

Becca pointed toward the bathroom, "Right. Go shower".

You blinked, "What?".

"Go shower. Wash your hair. Put on clean clothes"

You looked down at yourself, she wasn't wrong, it was needed.

"I'll stay here. Look after him"

"You don't have to"

"I know I don't, but I'm going to"

The simple response made your chest ache because she genuinely didn't have to do any of this, yet she had done, all day, with no complaints.

An hour later, after the longest shower of your life, you stepped back into the living room feeling almost human again. Fresh clothes, clean hair, a full stomach thanks to the sandwich Becca and forced into you. For the first time in months, your shoulders didn't feel quite so heavy.

Becca grinned, "Tomorrow we're going to lunch. Our treat".

"We? Our? Becca..." You groaned.

She ignored you, "I've already arranged it".

"Of course you have"

"It's just everyone. You're fine"

Everyone. Your small little friend group. A few who had become family over the years. All which you hadn't seen properly since you came home with Jacob. The people you had accidentally shut out.

You glanced toward your sleeping son, then back to Becca, "I don't know".

"You need it"

"I'll probably spend the entire lunch talking about baby poop"

"Then we'll talk about baby poop"

You laughed. The first one that didn't feel forced. And surprisingly, the idea didn't sound terrible the more you thought about it. Getting out, seeing people, feeling like yourself again even if it's for a few hours. "Okay" you finally said.

Becca's face lit up, "Yeah?".

"Yeah"

She smiled, "Good".

You shook your head, "You planned this before even asking me, didn't you? I didn't have a choice".

"Absolutely I did. And so you don't have to relive the entire thing, I will tell them if you want. Everything that's happened, I can't have you crying again, we'll get you better".

You just smiled and nodded. And despite everything that had happened over the last few months, for the first time in a very long while, you found yourself actually looking forward to tomorrow, but that was all night dependant...and well, the night wasn't perfect. Jacob still woke every few hours demanding a bottle with the determination only babies seemed to have for their own schedule, but somehow it felt different. The apartment wasn't suffocatingly messy anymore, and when morning came, you realised something strange. You hadn't woken up crying for the first time in months. You just laid there for a moment, staring at the ceiling while Jacob laid staring from the bedside crib at you. You still felt heavily tired, but today it just felt somewhat manageable.

The walk to the brunch place wasn't far. A cool breeze drifted through the street while Jacob slept peacefully beneath the hood of the pram. Your stomach twisted the closer you got because it had been so long since you'd seen everyone that part of you was worried it would be awkward and that you'd somehow forgotten how to be around people. But when you reached the restaurant, through the front window you could already see them. Everybody waiting. The second you stepped through the door, conversations stopped, every head turned and immediately you were met with the kindest smiles imaginable. The sort that carried concern, relief, affection and understanding all at once. Your eyes instantly started stinging, "Oh no" you muttered to yourself.

Becca was already standing and before you could say anything, she wrapped her arms around you and hugged you tightly, "I'm so glad you came" followed by everyone else pulling you into warm embraces and giving Jacob a fuss. There wasn't one question or one awkward comment. Just genuine happiness that you were there. By the time you finally reached your seat, your eyes were already suspiciously glossy, Becca gently took the pram from you, "I've got him, you sit". You sat down and the familiar chatter you missed filled the table along with the smell of coffee, the sound of cutlery and the comforting normality of it all. You looked around, at your friends, your family. People who had spent years building a life beside you and never stopped checking in despite you disappearing, and suddenly the emotional dam within you broke, "Oh for god's sake" you laughed through tears, "I swear it's the hormones". Immediately everyone started smiling sympathetically. "I'm sorry" you said, wiping your face.

"No you're not" Sam said.

You laughed again while tears continued falling, "It's embarrassing".

"It isn't" Amanda said gently.

"It kind of is"

"You've cried three times in front of me this week" Becca pointed out from beside the pram.

"Only three? That's pretty good for me"

"Actually four"

"Great"

That earned a round of laughter from the table and the tension eased instantly. You rubbed at your eyes again, "Sorry".

"No apologising" Wes said.

"Yeah" Adam added, "We're implementing a no apology policy".

"That's not a thing"

"It is now"

Across the table, Joe had been quietly watching. Not judging or pitying, just watching to make sure you're okay. When your eyes finally met his, he offered a small smile, the kind that always seemed to calm people down. You attempted to return it even though your lip was wobbling, and Joe reached across the table, his hand settling gently over yours. The simple gesture nearly setting you off again, "Hey".

You swallowed hard, "Hey".

"Everything's gonna be okay you know?"

The words weren't dramatic or in the form of some grand speech, but they made you feel steady. Your eyes filled again, "Oh my god".

"See?" Joe laughed, "I can't say anything".

Everyone else joined in laughing with him. You covered your face, "I hate all of you".

"No you don't" Poppy said.

"No" you admitted, "I really don't".

Joe squeezed your hand gently, "You know where we all are".

You nodded.

"If you need help, call"

Another nod.

"If you need someone to hold him while you sleep, call"

You glanced toward the pram where Becca was gently rocking Jacob without a second thought.

"If you need groceries"

"Call"

"If you need food"

"Let me guess, call"

"If you need company"

"Call"

The lump in your throat that grew by the second became impossible to ignore. Because for months you'd convinced yourself you were alone, that asking for help would make you a burden and that everyone had their own lives to worry about, yet here they all were. Showing up again and again, waiting patiently for you to let them in.

You looked around the table once more. At Becca making silly faces towards Jacob, Adam and Wes arguing over something, Amanda and Sam already discussing what everyone should order, Poppy reaching over to hand you a napkin before you could even ask, at Joe, still sitting opposite, offering a reassuring smile. And for the first time since everything happened with Jack, you didn't feel abandoned, or alone, just loved. The realisation of it all made fresh tears roll down your cheeks and a groan escaped the entire table, "Oh, come on" Wes complained dramatically. You burst out laughing, and this time, when everyone laughed with you, it felt a little easier to breathe.

You were so determined not to spend the entire brunch talking about yourself. The support had been nice, more than nice, but the last thing you wanted was for the whole gathering to become some kind of intervention. So after answering a few questions and assuring everyone that yes, you were eating again, and yes, you had actually slept for more than two consecutive hours, you quickly waved a hand, "Enough about me please".

Becca raised an eyebrow.

"No, seriously" you laughed, "My life is currently bottles, diapers, myself included, and trying to remember whether I've brushed my teeth. Someone tell me something interesting".

Thankfully, everyone seemed happy to move on. Poppy immediately launched into a story about work that had the entire table laughing within minutes. Amanda followed with updates from her own life, sharing stories about coworkers, terrible meetings, and a recent disaster involving coffee and a very expensive laptop. You found yourself smiling more and more. It felt normal. For a little while you could just sit there and listen and not think about Jack, or bills, or sleepless nights. Eventually the conversation shifted toward the boys, you glanced between Joe, Sam, Wes and Adam.

"So" you said, "What have you lot been doing?".

Sam groaned dramatically, "Sleeping. A lot of it".

"That's literally it right now" Adam agreed.

Wes nodded, "We just finished tour".

"You say that like it was easy" Joe laughed.

"I think I slept for about 12 hours straight the first day back" Sam called.

"12?" Wes scoffed, "Amateur".

The group laughed and the conversation drifted toward stories from the road, crowds, travel, funny backstage moments and the exhaustion that came with weeks of performing. You listened quietly, genuinely enjoying hearing about something completely different from your own life.

"And now?" you asked.

Joe shrugged, "Rest, then eventually start writing again".

"Eventually?" Sam repeated, "You'll be texting ideas at 3am within a week".

"You aren't wrong. They've got to go somewhere"

You smiled into your coffee. It was strange, a year ago, this kind of conversation would've felt completely normal but now it felt like hearing stories from another world. Tour buses and concerts seemed impossibly far away from bottles and baby wipes. And as if reading your thoughts, a small noise came from the pram beside the table. Everyone instantly gathered to  look over as Jacob stretched, made an adorable sleepy face then settled right back down. The entire table collectively melted.

"Oh my god" Amanda whispered.

"He looks just like you" Poppy agreed.

"He's lucky he's cute" Becca added.

Joe leaned slightly to peek into the pram, the sight immediately softened his expression. And without thinking, you smiled, "You know" you said casually, "Jacob's first concert is definitely going to be one of yours".

Joe blinked, "What?"

You shrugged.

"I mean, obviously. How else is he going to believe the stories about how much of a fun life his uncles live?"

The table erupted instantly.

"Aww, Joe's going to cry" "Oh that's adorable" "Why is that actually really sweet"

Joe looked genuinely caught off guard. His cheeks turning slightly pink, "Seriously?".

"Yeah!" You looked over at Jacob, "Seems only fair".

Joe laughed quietly, "I feel weirdly honored by that".

"You should"

"I'll take that responsibility very seriously when it finally happens"

"You better"

"Little man deserves a good and memorable first concert"

"Exactly, so no pressure. From either of us"

Everyone laughed again. Joe shook his head, still smiling. He glanced toward Jacob sleeping peacefully, the expression on his face was unexpectedly fond, like he'd already decided he would protect this kid with his life. Honestly, most of your friends seemed to feel that way. Maybe you weren't doing this alone, maybe you never had been. 

The brunch stretched on for another hour before people gradually began gathering jackets, paying bills and making plans for the next time everyone would meet. For once, you didn't feel desperate to rush home. You actually felt... lighter. As everyone started saying their goodbyes, you stood with Jacob's pram beside you while the group slowly filtered out onto the sidewalk.

Amanda hugged you first, "Text me if you need literally anything, please"

"I will"

"You won't"

"I'll try" You laughed and hugged her tighter.

One by one everyone said goodbye until eventually it was just you, Becca, Joe, and a sleeping Jacob. Becca immediately crouched beside the pram, "Look at him".

"He slept through most of brunch which I'm glad" you silently huff.

Becca stood and turned to you, "Are you okay?".

You knew what she was really asking. Would you be okay alone tonight? Would the apartment feel overwhelming again? Would you disappear for another few weeks?

You smiled softly, "I'll be okay".

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Today's really helped"

She studied you for a second before nodding, "Alright", then she pointed at you, "But I'm coming over the day after tomorrow".

You laughed, "I don't doubt you for one minute".

Becca pulled you into another hug, "I'm serious. Call me if you need anything between now and then, no matter the time".

"I know"

"And eat, drink water".

"Okay mom"

"Sleep when he sleeps"

You groaned, "That one is impossible".

She laughed and kissed your cheek, finally stepping back, "Love you".

"Love you too"

A few moments later she disappeared down the street, leaving you standing beside Joe, he looked down at the pram, "Want some help getting home?".

You smiled, "You don't have to".

"I know I don't but I want to"

The exact same words Becca had used yesterday and something warm settled in your chest, "That'd be nice".

"No problem" And just like that, the two of you started the walk back. The journey wasn't long and Jacob remained asleep the entire time. Joe pushed the pram alongside you while the two of you walked at an easy pace, "I can't wait to see articles online tomorrow about how I have a kid now".

"Still happening huh? Fame really hasn't died down?"

"God no, worse if you ask me. I can't go get coffee without bumping into someone or someone taking a picture"

You always did feel sorry for him in that regard, unable to somewhat go out and live a normal life without anyone judging or criticising him. Nothing more was bought up about it, they just continued to walk and it was surprisingly comfortable. Talking about random things like the weather, movies, some restaurant they just passed, it was nice. By the time you reached your apartment building, you found yourself smiling more than you had in months. "Home sweet home" Joe announced and you rolled your eyes in response.

He held the front door open while you stepped inside, helping to carry the pram up the small flight of steps without even asking, "Joe".

"What?"

"You don't need to carry that"

"I know I don't" You shook your head at his stubborness.

When you unlocked the apartment door and stepped inside, a small sense of relief washed over you. For the first time in a long time, coming home didn't fill you with dread. The place was tidy, warm, feeling actually lived in and somewhere you didn't feel ashamed of bringing somebody else in to.

Joe wheeled the pram inside, "Wow".

You looked over, "What?"

"It looks nice. I haven't been over in a while"

You laughed, "Thanks to Becca".

"Remind me never to get on her bad side"

"Smart decision"

A few minutes later Jacob finally began stirring, right on cue. You glanced at the clock, "Food time".

Joe nodded, "Do you uh, need help?".

"I'll be okay, thank you though. You guys have done enough for me"

You moved automatically now and didn't think about what came next. Bottle, boiling water, formula, cooling, all a familiar routine. Joe appeared in the kitchen next to you, "What are you doing?".

"Making us coffee"

"You don't know where anything is"

"It's not the biggest place in the world, I am sure I can find things"

A few minutes later, Joe appeared in the living area where you had Jacob nestled against your chest, holding two cups of coffee. Jacob was already focused entirely on his bottle, his tiny hands curled around your fingers whilst he drank. Joe sat beside you on the sofa watching with genuine fascination. "You know" he said quietly, "I don't think I'll ever get over how small babies are".

You looked down, "He feels huge now".

"That's because you're with him every day. Last time I saw him he was like two days old" Joe shook his head, "He's tiny".

A laugh escaped you, Joe's soft side in full force. Jacob finished eating surprisingly quickly, then after a short burp and a brief protest about being moved, he settled into his moses basket and, miraculously stayed asleep.

You both stared, "Did we just witness a miracle?" Joe whispered.

"Don't say it too loud otherwise when he wakes, you'll be the one putting him down"

"Sorry" Joe immediately lowered his voice, "My mistake".

The apartment fell quiet, just the hum of the refrigerator and the occasional noise from outside drifting through the windows. You curled your hands around your coffee mug and for once, there wasn't anything demanding your attention. No bottles to be made, no diapers to change, no laundry waiting to be done, just living in a peaceful moment and Joe sitting comfortably beside you.

After a while he glanced over, "How are you really doing? Just us".

You considered it honestly. A few weeks ago the answer would've been terrible, and a few days ago probably not much better but now...you looked toward Jacob sleeping peacefully and around your apartment, "Tired, but coping somewhat. Didn't picture doing this all by myself so I'm still figuring things out, but better".

He nodded, "Yeah?"

"Yeah" And for the first time, you actually meant it.

Joe smiled into his coffee, "Good. You know, I've been worried about you".

The admission of it caught you off guard. You looked over, Joe was staring down into his mug, almost embarrassed he'd said it, "You have?".

"Of course" Joe looked up, "We all were".

You nodded slowly. Sitting there on the sofa, coffee growing cold in your hands while Jacob slept peacefully nearby, you realised how much you'd missed this. Not just the friendship or the company but just simply having someone there who wasn't asking anything from you, and wanted to sit beside you to make sure you were okay.

As the afternoon went on and the sunlight started to slip down into somewhat of a sunset, conversation drifted back to easier things for a while, mainly Jacob as Joe was curious. The fact that Jacob somehow managed to sleep through almost anything when out in public, yet seemed to possess a sixth sense for knowing the exact moment you sat down to relax at home.

Joe found that particularly amusing, "He waits until you're comfortable?"

"Every single time. Worse on a night"

"That's actually kind of impressive"

"You have him for 24 hours and get back to me on that"

Joe laughed into his coffee, the sound settling warmly through the apartment. You were staring into your mug when Joe spoke, "What happened with Jack? If I can ask...".

The question wasn't nosy, or him being judgmental which is what you kind of thought it would be, but he gave you room to answer or not. A few weeks ago you would've shut down immediately but today felt different. You looked toward Jacob's basket to see him still sound asleep, "I caught him cheating".

The words came out surprisingly easily, and Joe's expression immediately changed just as easily. It was more disappointed than shocked, I mean as much as your friends didn't like him, he still became part of the group at times on social occassions.

"When?"

"4 weeks after Jacob was born"

Joe blinked, the disappointment turning into disbelief, "Jesus..."

A humorless laugh escaped you, "Yeah".

For a moment, Joe just sat there, processing the answer that you gave him.

Then quietly asked, "How did you find out?"

The memory didn't hurt quite as sharply today, but it still hurt, just not enough to stop you talking. "I'd taken Jacob out for a check up appointment. When I came home there was another woman in the apartment". Joe swore softly under his breath, you couldn't even blame him. Looking back, the whole thing sounded ridiculous like something from a bad movie. "I remember thinking I'd walked into the wrong apartment for a second"

Joe shook his head slowly, "Your kidding?".

"No" You let out another small laugh, "I genuinely checked the apartment number".

His face somehow managed to look even sadder because that was probably the most heartbreaking part. Not the cheating, but the confusion and the complete inability to comprehend what you were seeing.

"I packed his stuff that same hour"

Joe looked up, "Seriously?"

"Yep"

"No second chance?"

"None" The answer came instantly.

Joe stared at you for a second, then nodded "Good. I'm sorry it happened". He leaned back against the sofa, "But I'm glad you didn't stay with him. You deserved better before Jacob". His gaze shifted briefly toward the sleeping baby, "You definitely deserved better after".

You looked away, focusing on the coffee mug in your hands, "He hasn't even seen him since he's been gone".

Joe went still, "What?".

Your voice came out quieter this time, "He hasn't seen him". The words hurt more than talking about the cheating. "He hasn't called, hasn't visited, nothing".

Joe's jaw tightened and the apartment suddenly felt very quiet, the only sound was Jacob's soft breathing nearby. Joe looked toward the basket, then back at you. His expression was impossible to miss. Anger. Not at you, but the situation, Jack, at someone choosing not to show up for their child. You found yourself rushing to soften it, "I mean, maybe it's for the best".

Joe immediately shook his head, "No. It's probably for the best that he's not around if he's going to hurt you".

You stared at him, "But that's not the same thing".

He glanced toward Jacob again, "Every kid deserves someone who wants to be there".

The words settled heavily between you, because they were true, painfully true. You'd spent months trying to convince yourself it didn't matter because Jacob was too young to know and that you could make up for it somehow.

Joe seemed to understand exactly what you were thinking, "You know what I see?".

You frowned, "What?".

He pointed toward the Moses basket, "I see a little guy who's got a mom that loves him more than anything". Your eyes immediately burned and Joe continued before you could interrupt, "I see someone who gets up every two hours to feed him, I see someone who's exhausted but still doing everything she can to provide the best life for him".

The tears were definitely coming back now.

"I'm serious" He smiled softly, "From where I'm sitting, he's doing pretty well".

You looked away before he could see how emotional that made you, but unfortunately, Joe had known you long enough to notice anyway. A laugh escaped him, "Here we go again".

"Oh shut up" You wiped at your eyes.

The afternoon somehow started to slip away from you. One minute you and Joe were sitting on the sofa talking, the next Jacob was waking up, announcing his presence with a series of increasingly dramatic noises. "Uh oh" Joe said. You laughed, followed by another diaper chanage and a bottle. And then, for the first time all day, Jacob was actually awake enough to interact with the world, or at least stare at it very seriously. Joe ended up sitting on the floor while Jacob laid on a play mat between you. The sight alone nearly made you laugh. A grown man who had performed in front of thousands of people sitting on your living room rug making ridiculous noises at a 10 week old. The funniest part? Jacob seemed fascinated by him.

"Oh, so he likes you" You smile.

Joe looked offended, "Of course he likes me. Why wouldn't he?".

Jacob chose that exact moment to let out a happy little smile. Joe immediately pointed, "There, see!" followed by a huge grin.  The playtime continued until Jacob yawned which meant you knew what was coming. The evening fussiness, the refusal to sleep despite desperately needing sleep, the same battle you fought almost every night. Except tonight it never came, because after another bottle, Joe casually lifted him into his arms, "I've got him".

You watched from the sofa while he paced slowly around the living room. Talking quietly, rocking gently, and not even five minutes later, Jacob's eyes drifted shut and you couldn't believe the sight in front you, "He never does that...".

"What, sleep?"

"In 5 minutes"

Joe glanced at the sleeping baby, then back at you, "Maybe he likes my stories?".

"What stories?"

"I was telling him about Adam losing his suitcase in Mexico"

You laughed, "Thrilling".

"Well apparently so!" Carefully, Joe lowered Jacob into his cot, he barely stirred and the apartment felt at peace. Both of you just watching him sleep, then eventually Joe checked his phone, he sighed dramatically, "I should probably head home". Your face fell slightly before you could stop it, and Joe noticed immediately. "I'll see you again soon, promise" The smile he gave you was gentle.

Still, it was hard because today had been the first day in months that hadn't felt overwhelmingly lonely. The apartment was dim now, evening settling outside the windows, you walked Joe over to the door as he grabbed his jacket, "Thank you for today".

He shook his head, "You don't need to thank me".

"Yes, I do"

"You really don't. It's what friends are for"

The words caught slightly in your throat, "Today was..." You searched for the right phrase, "I really needed today".

Joe's expression softened, "You deserve days like this".

You looked down for a second before meeting his eyes again. The gratitude felt impossible to put into words. Not just for today, but for everything, checking in, showing up, helping with Jacob, helping carry some of the weight of everything without ever making you feel guilty for needing it.

Your eyes drifted toward the living room where Jacob slept peacefully, then back to Joe, "We're lucky".

Joe smiled, "You don't have to-"

"No" You cut him off softly, "We are, Jacob and I".

Something flickered across Joe's face, a mixture of warmth and emotion.

"You, Becca, everyone" You swallowed, "We're really lucky to have people like you".

The apartment suddenly felt very still. Joe's smile was smaller now but more genuine, reaching his eyes as he stared at you, "I think we're pretty lucky too".

"Yeah?"

"Yeah"

Your chest tightened, enough to remind you how long it had been since someone had made you feel valued and not like a burden. Joe stepped forward and pulled you into a hug and without thinking, you hugged him back immediately. You felt so safe, it was the kind of hug that said you're not doing this alone. When he finally pulled away, he smiled, "Text me if you need anything".

You laughed, "You've said".

A moment later he was gone. The apartment door clicked shut behind him and for the first time, the silence didn't feel so overwhelming. You wandered back into the living room and watch Jacob fast asleep through the monitor, the rise and fall of his chest immediately soothing you. You sat down on the sofa, pulling a blanket around yourself and caught up on some TV you had been meaning to do for weeks.

Your phone buzzed with a message from Joe.

Joe Made it home

Joe Tell Jacob I expect him at his first concert

You He's already your biggest fan

The next few months passed far quicker than you expected. Somehow, life found a rhythm. Not a perfect one but a good one. Jacob grew every single day that it felt impossible sometimes. One minute he was a tiny newborn who fit against your chest, and the next he was sitting up with support, grabbing anything within reach and babbling endlessly about absolutely nothing with next to no naps throughout the day. 6 months old. You still couldn't quite believe you survived 6 months. Some days were still hard. There were moments you caught your reflection and still struggled with the changes pregnancy had left behind like the softer stomach, the stretch marks, the body that felt different from the one you had before, but this time the hatred wasn't there, not like it had been because everytime you looked at Jacob, smiling up at you with those chubby cheeks, it became harder to resent the body that had brought him into the world.

You were learning, slowly, to be kinder to yourself and thankfully, you weren't doing it alone. The friend group became a constant with weekly dinners, weekend lunches, movie nights, coffee hangs. Your apartment somehow became everyone's unofficial meeting place. Not that you minded, it was easier whilst you got Jacob ready for the day instead of stressing you would be late showing up everywhere. Your apartment was full of laughter again, full of life, and Joe? Well, Joe somehow became one of the biggest part of your routine whilst he was still home and not out travelling. Every few days there'd be a knock on the door, sometimes with coffee, sometimes with food, sometimes with absolutely no reason whatsoever. He'd simply show up and announce go take a shower, or go nap, to which you usually responded with a glare than did exactly what he suggested. Not because he told you to, but you trusted him enough to leave Jacob in his hands, and whenever you came back, Jacob was the happiest baby you had ever seen. Usually laughing and becoming increasingly obsessed with Joe.

It soon became a running joke. The second Joe walked through the door, Jacob's entire face lit up. "Why don't you do that with me! That's rude!" you told him one afternoon. Joe looked very pleased with himself as Jacob wouldn't take his eyes off him. Today was another one of those afternoons, sunlight covered the apartment while Jacob sat in his highchair looking extremely confused about life. A bowl of baby food sat on the tray with Joe sat beside him armed with a tiny spoon and too much confidence, "I feel pressured to do this right".

"You should. You're feeding him his first taste of real food".

Joe looked at Jacob, Jacob looked at Joe, then immediately tried to eat the spoon.

You burst out laughing, "Good start".

Joe was laughing too, "I think he's a natural".

For the next 10 minutes, the two of them somehow made weaning look like the world's messiest activity. Food ended up everywhere. Jacob's face, Jacob's bib, Joe's shirt, the tray, the floor, possibly the ceiling, you genuinely weren't sure, you were just the cameraman today.

Eventually you handed Joe a cloth, "You've got carrot on your face".

"What?"

"Your cheek" Joe wiped the wrong side, "The other one". He wiped his forehead and you laughed harder, "How do you function independently?".

"I don't"

"That really explains a lot"

Jacob squealed happily, clearly enjoying the chaos. The sight of them together made something warm settle in your chest because Joe never looked like he was helping out of obligation. He genuinely enjoyed being here, enjoyed being around Jacob, and Jacob absolutely adored him.

As if sensing your thoughts, you smiled, "You know...".

Joe glanced up, "What?"

"You're really good with him"

His expression softened as he looked down at Jacob who was now attempting to grab Joe's fingers.

"I like him. He's a cool little guy"

You watched them together for a moment, then casually asked, "So are you seeing anyone?".

The question seemed to surprise him, but he laughed, "No. Haven't for a while".

"Really?"

"Really"

You frowned slightly and he leaned back slightly, "I think life just got busy". His gaze drifted toward Jacob, "Touring, making music, acting, everything else" He shrugged, "Guess I never met the right person".

The answer felt strangely honest, very truthful, and you found yourself asking the next question before thinking too much about it, "What about kids?".

Joe's eyes immediately moved back to Jacob who was now happily banging a spoon against the tray. The smile that appeared was impossible to miss, "Yeah i'd love kids". The answer came without any hesitation.

Something about that made your chest tighten unexpectedly, "Yeah?".

"Absolutely" Joe laughed quietly, "I always have".

You looked at him, then at Jacob, then back at him, "You'd be a good dad".

Joe blinked, clearly caught off guard, but smiled, "Thanks".

You meant it. Every word. Because over the last few months you'd watched him show up over and over again without being asked and without expecting anything, and just because he cared. And before you could say anything else, a knock sounded at the apartment door. 3 sharp knocks. Both of you looked up, Jacob immediately stopped hitting his spoon and the apartment fell silent.

Joe frowned, "Expecting someone?"

"No"

The knock came again, but louder this time and suddenly your stomach suddenly twisted. The group always texted first, nobody just turned up unless it was Joe, not after everything that happened. A strange feeling settled heavily in your chest and Joe must've noticed because he was already standing before you were because concern replaced the easy smile he'd worn moments ago, "Let me get it".

You swallowed as another knock echoed through the apartment, and suddenly you weren't sure you wanted to know who was standing on the other side of that door.

The moment you heard the voice through the door, your blood ran cold, "Can I just talk to her?".

Every muscle in your body locked. No. No. No.

For months, nothing. Not a text, a phone call, a birthday card, not a single attempt to see his son, and now he was standing outside your apartment. Jacob squealed happily beside you, completely unaware of the sudden storm that had swept through the room.

Your eyes immediately found Joe's as he was already looking back at you from the doorway, the colour draining from your face. You slowly shook your head. You didn't want this. You didn't want to see him. You didn't want to hear excuses. You didn't want apologies. You had fought too hard to get back to where you were now.

Joe nodded immediately with no questions asked. He turned back toward the door, "You need to leave".

There was a pause, "What?"

"She doesn't want to talk to you"

Jack scoffed from the other side, "That's not your decision".

"No" Joe replied calmly, "It's hers and she's said no".

Your hands tightened around the edge of the highchair as Jacob continued banging his spoon happily. The contrast felt surreal.

Then Joe spoke again, "You need to leave".

"I just want to talk"

"No"

"I deserve-"

"No" For the first time, Joe's voice carried an edge you'd never heard before, in a protective kind of way.

You could hear Jack's frustration growing, "That's my son in there".

Something dark flashed across Joe's face. The kind of anger that came from months of watching someone you cared about suffer, "Your son?".

The apartment suddenly felt very quiet. Jack didn't respond and Joe laughed once, "Interesting". You'd never seen him angry before. "Because from what I've heard, you've had months to be his father".

Joe continued, "Months. You didn't call, you didn't visit, you didn't show up, and now you decide to turn up at her door?"

"Stay out of it"

"No" The response was immediate, "Not a chance".

You could hear Jack shifting outside growing more irritated, "This has nothing to do with you".

Joe glanced over his shoulder at you and Jacob. At the life that had been rebuilt inside these walls, then he looked back at the door, "It does when I watched her pick herself up after what you did to her. I've been here almost everyday and you've what?". The words hit you unexpectedly because he was right, Joe had watched you. He'd seen the exhaustion, the crying, the loneliness, the days you barely functioned. "I've watched her do every feed, every sleepless night, raise him by herself".

The apartment blurred slightly, tears forming at his words.

"And now she's finally happy. So no, you don't get to show up here and demand anything".

A long pause followed, then Jack finally spoke. "What if I want to see him?"

You stopped breathing and Joe's expression didn't change. "Then you should've thought about that 6 months ago, have fun in court trying"

Jack swore. Loudly. Your entire body tensed and immediately Joe stepped slightly in front of the doorway as some form of barrier between your apartment and the chaos unfolding outside.

"You can't stop me" Jack raised his voice.

"No" Joe nodded, "But she can"

Then Jack tried one last time, "Tell her I just want 5 minutes".

Joe looked back at you, you shook your head again. You didn't owe him that. Not today, not ever. Not after everything.

"She said no"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously" The door shut. Hard. The lock sliding into place, and just like that it was over. A few muffled words echoed from the hallway before eventually fading into nothing. Joe stood there for a moment listening in to make sure he was actually gone, only when he was satisfied did he finally turn around.

Your eyes were already full of tears because truthfully, the entire thing had shaken you. Joe crossed the room immediately, "Hey".

You laughed shakily, "Of course today was going well". A watery laugh escaped you as Jacob chose that exact moment to squeal and throw his spoon onto the floor. Both of you looked at him, he looked extremely pleased with himself. The ridiculousness of it broke the tension instantly. A laugh escaped Joe, then one escaped you and soon the three of you were laughing. Joe picked up the spoon and Jacob immediately threw it again.

"You know" Joe said, watching it hit the floor. "I think he might be a menace".

"Definitely a menace, and it's not from me"

Joe looked over at you as the concern hadn't completely left his eyes, "You okay?".

You thought about it honestly. A few months ago, Jack showing up would've destroyed you. Today? Today felt different because you weren't alone anymore. You looked around your apartment, at the toys, the photos, the life you'd built, Jacob, Joe still standing there making sure you were alright.

You smiled softly, "Yeah".

Joe's shoulders visibly relaxed, "Good".

That night, after Joe left, the apartment felt quiet again. Jacob was asleep in his crib after a surprisingly easy bedtime, and you sat curled up on the sofa with a blanket over your legs, staring at a movie you weren't really watching. Your mind kept drifting back to the front door, Jack, his voice, the audacity of him showing up. At first you'd thought it had upset you because you still loved him, but the longer you sat there, the more you realised that wasn't it at all. You weren't heartbroken or longing for him. You were angry. For years you'd spent so much energy being sad. Sad he cheated, sad he left, sad Jacob didn't have the father you'd imagined, sad that things hadn't worked out. But now? Now you were angry. Angry he'd missed every sleepless night, every bottle, every doctor's appointment, every milestone. Angry he'd walked away from his son and then somehow expected to be welcomed back. For the first time, you weren't grieving the relationship. You were seeing it clearly.

The friend group found out the next morning. You'd barely finished your coffee before your phone exploded. Joe had mentioned it in the group chat.

Joe Jack showed up at her apartment yesterday.

That was all it took. Your phone became unusable.

Amanda HE DID WHAT?

Adam Absolutely not

Sam Address please. I just wanna talk.

Wes Sam no

Sam Sam yes

Poppy Is she okay??

Becca I'M ON MY WAY

Becca Actually 10 minutes because I can't find my keys.

The concern only got more ridiculous from there. Amanda arrived two days later with enough food to feed a family of 6. Adam checked your front door lock. Wes bought Jacob a stuffed dinosaur for emotional support, the dinosaur was almost as big as Jacob. And somehow the most ridiculous thing of all was the creation of a new group chat.

The title? Jacob Appreciation Society. The sole purpose? Photos. Hundreds of them. Sleeping, eating, laughing, wearing funky hats, looking confused, holding a banana. The group was obsessed, particularly Joe, which led to a very specific problem.

A week later, you were in the kitchen, Jacob on your hip when you heard a familiar knock, then the door opening, "Ooo, who is it Jacob?".

Without a single word being exchanged, you turned, Joe was kicking off his shoes and immediately made a beeline for Jacob. The routine had become second nature. You didn't even think about it anymore. Meanwhile Jacob had spotted Joe, the reaction was immediate. His entire face lit up and a delighted squeal echoed through the apartment.

"Oh wow. Someone has their big boy voice on today" You heard Joe laugh. Another squeal, you smiled to yourself.

With coffee mugs in hand freshly made, you walked back into the living room. Joe was already sitting on the floor and Jacob was trying to climb directly into his lap.

You handed him his coffee. He took one sip before complimenting it like he does everytime. The warmth that settled in your chest felt far too familiar these days. Before you could think about it too much, your phone buzzed.

Becca On my way!

You Door's open. Joe's here.

10 minutes later, Becca walked inside without knocking. "Hello-" She stopped. The scene in front of her clearly wasn't helping. Joe was carrying Jacob around the apartment with one arm, coffee in the other hand talking absolute nonsense to him.

"And this is the kitchen". Jacob giggled. "A very important room. Mama makes your food in here". More giggling.

Becca slowly looked at you, then at Joe, then back at you, "...No".

"What?" You were straight out confused.

"You two"

You groaned and Joe looked confused, "What about us?".

Becca stared at him, at Jacob in his arms, then at you holding his coffee mug because he'd handed it off while adjusting Jacob, then at the fact he was currently wearing one of the spare burp cloths over his shoulder because Jacob had spit up on him earlier.

Her eyes widened, "It's all very...homey" she gestured with her hands, "You know you're basically co-parenting at this point, right?".

Silence. Complete silence. Joe dropped the burp cloth, "What?"

You looked horrified, "No!"

"You so are"

"We aren't"

Joe shook his head immediately, "I'm not co-parenting"

"You know where the diapers are. You know his bedtime routine. You know what bottles he likes"

Joe opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, "...that's still different".

The room fell silent. Becca looked between everyone in the room, then settled on Jacob who was currently sitting happily on Joe's hip like he'd lived there his entire life, "Oh, this is cute".

You buried your face in your hands, Joe looked equally horrified.

"We're friends"

"Best friends"

Becca laughed so hard she had to sit down. Neither of you were willing to admit it and the worst part? Nobody had a good explanation for why Jacob immediately started crying the second Joe handed him back, and why he instantly stopped when Joe picked him up again.

A few weeks after Becca's relentless teasing, life settled back into its usual rhythm. Jacob continued growing at an alarming rate. You continued pretending not to notice how much easier parenting felt when you had an entire army of people helping you and Joe continued showing up every few days like clockwork. Some mornings it was coffee, some afternoons it was lunch, some evenings he'd sit on your living room floor building towers out of soft blocks while Jacob destroyed them immediately. It was normal now which was probably why the news hit harder than you expected.

The whole group was at dinner when Joe mentioned it casually, "I've been offered something".

The table looked up.

"What kind of something?" Adam asked.

Joe shrugged, "A film project".

You smiled, "That's amazing".

"It is"

Something about the way he said it made you glance over. Joe wasn't smiling, at least not fully.

"What's wrong with it? Why don't you seem all in?" Becca asked.

Everyone immediately turned toward him, Joe rubbed the back of his neck, "It's long".

"How long?" Becca asked

"Few months. 4 to 5"

You just stared at him, "A few months?"

Joe nodded. Your smile stayed in place, mostly.

"That's incredible!" Amanda beamed.

"It is" He genuinely meant that.

"You deserve it" and you meant it when you said it. This was good news, a huge opportunity, something he'd worked incredibly hard for. So why did your chest suddenly feel weird?

The rest of the table quickly launched into questions. When? Where? What would he be doing?

You listened, smiled, joined the conversation, but a small part of you kept thinking the same thing. A few months of no visits, help with Jacob, no Joe. The realisation was uncomfortable and you didn't like how uncomfortable.

Later that night, after everyone had gone their seperate ways, you found yourself standing in the kitchen cleaning bottles. Joe came back to yours with you and Jacob, helped put him to sleep and was helping put things away after you in the kitchen. The two of you moving around each other with the ease that came from doing it a hundred times before.

"You're quiet tonight"

You glanced up, "So are you"

"Yeah..I guess you're not wrong"

You dried your hands, "So, when do you leave?"

Joe hesitated, "Couple of weeks"

The answer hit harder than it should have and you immediately hated that, "That's soon",

"Yeah..."

The apartment felt strangely heavy, silence broken by Jacob waking up and babbling through the monitor, you put the towel down, "I should go check on him", and Joe just nodded.

The moment passed, life moved on, but the thought remained. Days went by, Joe hadn't been round since the night of dinner, the mention of meetings and industry bits that need sorting before he left. You understood, it was his job at the end of the day, but then Jacob got sick.

Properly sick. Not just a cold or teething. Sick. It started with a fever, then came the crying non-stop, the clinginess, the refusal to eat, you spent the entire day worrying, the entire evening worrying and by 3am, after almost being up for 36 hours, you were exhausted. Jacob was burning up against your chest, enough to scare you and make every parental fear you've ever had come rushing to you at once. You'd already spoken to the doctor, you knew what to watch for and you knew he was likely okay but logic wasn't helping because this was your baby, and he was hurting.

Tears stung your eyes as you sat in the dark living room with Jacob whimpering softly against your shoulder. You felt completely helpless. Without even thinking, you grabbed your phone and called Joe. The second it started ringing you regretted it. It was 3am, what were you doing? He was probably asleep. You should hang up.

Then the call connected immediately, "Hey, what's up?" His voice sounded tired but instantly concerned at the same time.

"Sorry for calling"

"What happened?"

You looked down at Jacob, tears spilling again, "He's sick and I don't know what else to do so I just called"

"I'm coming over"

Your head snapped up, "What?"

"I'm coming over"

"Joe-"

"I'm already getting dressed"

"You don't have to"

"I'll be there soon" The call ended.

10 minutes later there was a knock at the door. You opened it to Joe standing there in a hoodie and baseball cap, clearly having left his apartment as quickly as humanly possible. The second he saw your face his expression softened, "Oh".

That was enough, the tears finally spilled over. You laughed through them immediately, "I'm sorry".

"Don't apologise"

"I woke you up"

"I don't care"

You stepped aside and Joe walked straight inside. His attention immediately shifting to Jacob, laying in his moses basket all red cheeked, sleepy and miserable. Joe's face fell, "Oh buddy...". The gentleness in his voice nearly made you cry harder. For the next hour, neither of you slept. Joe made coffee, you rocked Jacob, then Joe took over so you could sit down, you took him back and Joe sat beside you. There were no grand gestures, or solutions to anything, it was just the support and having someone there.

Around 5am Jacob finally fell asleep, dosed up on medicine, the worst of the night seemingly behind you. You sat on the sofa looking completly exhausted, "Thank you".

Joe looked over, "You don't have to thank me"

"You were here in like 10 minutes"

A small smile appeared, "Traffic was good"

You laughed, "I hope so for that time of day"

You looked down at Jacob, back to Joe sitting there awake still making sure both of you were okay. A thought crossed your mind that was a little harder to ignore than before that you never thought would be on your mind at all. It wasn't because you needed him, you knew now that you could do this by yourself, but because somewhere along the way, he had become one of your favourite parts of life, and looking at him at 5am, half asleep after dropping everything the second you called, you had the feeling that maybe this wasn't as one sided as you thought.

A few weeks after that night when Jacob got sick, something shifted. It wasn't all at once, you didn't wake up one morning suddenly head over heels in love, it happened so slowly that you barely noticed it. At first it was just gratitude, the fact he'd shown up at 3am without hesitation, then it was noticing how naturally he fit into your life. How he'd arrive and automatically pick Jacob up, how he'd remember doctor's appointments, how he knew which stuffed toy Jacob wanted when he was tired. And somewhere along the way, you stopped looking forward to Joe visiting because you needed help. You started looking forward to it because it was Joe. The apartment felt brighter when he was in it, you found yourself smiling when his name appeared on your phone and seeing him with Jacob made your heart do things you were trying very hard not to think about, which was why the leaving dinner was proving to be a challenge.

The restaurant was busy and warm when you arrived. You'd actually made an effort which was something you hadn't done for a long time. Not because of Joe, definitely not because of Joe. You'd spent 10 minutes arguing with yourself in the mirror about that fact. The result was a dress you hadn't worn in over a year and your hair down instead of permanently tied back. You felt good, confident, even with your mom belly and chest. Jacob looked infinitely cooler than everyone else in the room, the checkerboard dungarees Joe had bought him fit perfectly combined with the tiny Vans on his feet, he looked like the world's coolest kid.

The second you arrived, Joe spotted him. He immediately crouched down beside the pram and Jacob's entire face lit up. The reaction made everyone laugh, "He doesn't even greet us like that" Wes complained.

"Because you're not me" Joe replied. The confidence was insufferable but unfortunately, he was right.

Dinner was genuinely going wonderful. Great food, stories, laughter, the entire table seemed determined to make the most of the evening. Luckily Jacob somehow managed to sleep through most of it with his pram tucked beside the table while conversations flowed around him. Occasionally he'd stir but Joe would immediately check on him and then he'd settle again.

At some point during dessert, Becca raised her glass, looking directly at Joe, "We're all incredibly proud of you as you know because we tell you everytime we see you. You're going to do great and we can't wait for you to come back home already".

Joe smiled at her words, slightly embarrassed which only encouraged her further, "We're also annoyed you're leaving, because that means you're going to miss little man's first birthday...".

The smile and embarassment vanished instantly and the entire table went quiet. Joe blinked, then looked toward the pram at Jacob who was peacefully asleep, then towards you. The realisation hit him visibly. Your chest tightened at his reaction, because somehow it genuinely hadn't occurred to him that he wouldn't be here. Not because he didn't care, but because he had become to used to being there and watching him grow, the thought of missing something important hadn't crossed his mind.

"Oh no" Sam laughed, "Look at his face".

Joe ignored him, still staring between you and Jacob. "You'll be gone?" you asked quietly.

Joe looked genuinely upset, "I...I think so". The answer seemed to bother him more than anyone else, but a moment later he shook his head, "No" He sat forward, "I'll be there".

Becca laughed, "You're going to teleport home mid shoot?"

"I'll figure it out" The determination in his voice surprised everyone, including you. "I'll make sure I'm there. I don't care what I have to do, count me in".

Something in your chest melted completely, because he meant it, every word. There wasn't a single trace of obligation in his voice, just certainty. You smiled softly at him, "Jacob would love that".

Joe returned the smile, "He better"

"He definitely will"

The conversation eventually moved on, but your heart never quite settled afterward.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter, the kind you'd come to love but eventually the restaurant staff began clearing tables bringing the night to a close. One by one people stood with hugs, promises to text and promises not to disappear. Joe accepted every goodbye with a smile, trying very hard not to make it emotional and failing slightly. When your turn came, you were standing beside Jacob's pram. Everyone else was slowly making their way toward the door and for a second it was just you and him. Joe glanced down at Jacob who was still asleep, then back at you. A smile tugged at his mouth, "I'll come round tomorrow".

Your heart skipped, "Yeah, okay"

He nodded, "I want to see him awake before I leave"

You smiled, "He'll be happy about that"

Joe laughed quietly, "Good". There was a pause after, one that felt strangely difficult. Tomorrow, then he'd be gone. You knew it wasn't forever, but it was a while. Joe must have sensed it too because his smile softened, "I'll see you tomorrow".

You nodded, trying very hard not to let your emotions show, "See you tomorrow". Joe reached down, gently squeezed your shoulder and followed everyone else out of the restaurant. Leaving you standing beside a sleeping Jacob watching him disappear through the doors and for the first time since you'd known he was leaving, the reality of it truly hit. Tomorrow would be the last time you'd see him for months and that thought hurt far more than you wanted to admit.

The walk home felt much quieter than the evening itself. Jacob slept the entire way curled up beneath a blanket in his pram while the city lights reflected off the sidewalks. You should have been happy, the dinner had been wonderful, everyone had laughed, Joe was excited about the opportunity and everything was good. So why did your chest feel so heavy? You already knew the answer, you just weren't ready to say it out loud.

The next morning arrived far too quickly. Jacob, unfortunately, had no respect for emotion and woke up bright and early. By 10am you'd already been up for hours. He'd eaten his breakfast pancakes, had playtime, had a bottle, had half a banana that somehow ended everywhere except his mouth, it was a normal life. It was when the door knocked which made everything feel less normal, your stomach flipping. Jacob squealed because apparently he had recognised the knock too. "To say you're my child, you are one heck of a traitor Jacob", followed by another squeal. You opened the door to see Joe stood there holding a paper bag and coffees, "Morning" He held up the bag, "Coffee and pastries".

You smiled, "Come in".

Jacob's reaction was immediate. The second Joe stepped inside, tiny arms wiggled upwards demanding attention. Joe laughed, "Well good morning to you too!". Within seconds he had Jacob balanced comfortably on his hip like he always did.

The morning passed far too quickly and you found yourself trying to memorise it all. The sound of Joe laughing, the way Jacob kept stealing his baseball cap, the sight of them sitting on the floor together surrounded by toys. The ordinary little moments that had somehow become important.

Around lunchtime, Jacob finally started rubbing his eyes. "Is it time for somebody's nap?" You stared down at him from the floor.

Joe nodded, "I think so"

Together you got Jacob settled down after a cuddle and a short walk round the apartment, and within minutes he was asleep. Joe carefully lowered him into the crib, he soon rolled over and stayed asleep. The two of you practically tiptoed out and immediately celebrated in the kitchen.

"Professional parenting if I say so myself" Joe chuckled.

"We deserve medals"

"And the rest"

The words slipped out so naturally that neither of you noticed them at first, until you both did followed by a brief moment of silence and then laughter. The tension disappearing.

A couple of hours later the apartment looked exactly how it always did when Jacob napped. Peaceful and comfortable. You and Joe sat on the sofa, coffee mugs in hand, finally eating the pastries he had bought with him. You'd sat in this place together countless times before but today felt different, there was some form of countdown attached to it.

Eventually Joe glanced at the clock and your stomach sank immediately, "Already?"

Joe followed your gaze, "Yeah I'm afraid so"

You hated how disappointed you sounded.

His expression softened slightly, "Hey, it's not forever".

"I know"

"You sound unconvinced"

Because you were. Joe had become part of your life in a way you hadn't expected. Part of Jacob's life too, and the thought of months without him felt strange. The apartment would be quieter, lonelier, you had gotten used to him being there, maybe too used to it.

Joe seemed to be having a similar thought, his eyes drifting towards the hallway where Jacob was sleeping, "I'll miss him".

You smiled softly , "He'll miss you too"

Joe laughed, "You think so?"

"He literally waits by the door some mornings for you I swear. If not he plays with that giraffe teddy you bought him. Told you he's your number one fan"

Joe looked absurdly pleased by that, followed by guilt and sadness all in the space of 5 seconds. You watched the whole thing happen, and it somehow it made you love him even more. Damn it.

Eventually, there was no avoiding it. Joe stood and grabbed his jacket. The familiar sight suddenly felt awful. You walked him to the door, the two of you standing there, neither wanting to make the goodbye bigger than it needed to be.

"You'll call?" Joe asked.

"You mean when Jacob wants to show you every spoon he finds?"

"Exactly that"

You laughed, "Then yes"

"Good"

"I'll send photos"

"You'd better"

"Thousands"

"I expect nothing less"

Joe smiled, the one that always made your heart behave strangely, "Take care of yourself".

You swallowed, "Yeah, you too"

His eyes lingered for a moment like there was something else he wanted to say. Something both of you weren't ready for. He stepped forward, pulling you into a hug, this time lasting a little longer than usual. Long enough for you to realise exactly how much you were going to miss him and long enough for Joe to realise he wasn't particularly eager to let go either.

When you finally pulled apart, neither of you acknowledged it because acknowledging it would mean asking questions neither of you were ready to answer.

Joe smiled again, then stepped into the hallway, "See you soon". You nodded, "See you soon". And this time, as you watched him disappear around the corner, you knew something with absolute certainty. You weren't just going to miss your best friend, you were going to miss the person who had quietly become one of the most important people in your life. As terrifying as the realisation was, it wasn't something you wanted to run from.

The first few weeks without Joe were strange. You still had everyone else surrounding you for support and help where needed, but there was a noticable gap where Joe usually sat. You hated how much you noticed it.

Thankfully, the friend group seemed determined not to let you spiral. Becca appeared every other day like clockwork after work, most Saturdays became group days out for lunches, bbq's, days at Becca's, the kind of things that filled your calendar and kept loneliness from settling in. And Jacob certainly wasn't letting you sit around feeling sorry for yourself because at 9 months old he'd discovered movement and apparently decided to make up for lost time. The child was everywhere. Everywhere. One minute he'd be on the playmat, the next he'd somehow be halfway across the apartment attempting to pull himself upright using furniture he definitely shouldn't be climbing.

You spent most of your day saying

"Jacob" "No" "Jacob" "Get down" "Don't do that Jacob"

One of the evenings you found yourself sitting on the floor surrounded by pieces of baby gate that you were trying to construct together to try contain him into one room. Screws sat on your lap, a screwdriver between your teeth, and a very determined baby attempting to eat the instruction booklet, "Absolutely not Jacob, don't do that".

Jacob giggled, then crawled away at remarkable speed back towards your phone which sat propped against the coffee table with Joe's face filling the screen watching the entire disaster unfold.

"This is entertaining"

"It isn't"

"It is from here" Joe laughed, "You've put that piece on backwards".

You looked down, "...oh"

"How did you even manage that?"

"I don't know. I don't even know how you figured that out from there"

Jacob immediately pulled himself up using your shoulder and Joe's face softened instantly, "I can't believe how well he can move now, he'll be running after us soon" Jacob recognised his voice immediately, a huge smile spreading across his face. The reaction happened every single time no matter how many video calls they had. It never got old.

After another 20 minutes of struggling, swearing quietly under your breath, and rereading instructions you'd already read four times, one of the gates finally clicked into place, "Thank fuck".

Joe applauded dramatically, and Jacob smacked the gate. Testing its ability then looked furious that he couldn't get through. But eventually bedtime arrived and thankfully, Jacob was exhausted enough to go down without much protest. By the time you'd finished cleaning bottles and  picking toys up off the floor, it was almost 9pm.

You settled onto the sofa with your phone, Joe was still there leaning against a headboard somewhere in London looking noticeably tired.

You checked the time, "Joe"

"What?"

"It's like 2am for you"

"So?"

"Go to sleep"

He laughed, "No"

"Seriously"

"I'm fine"

"You have work"

Yet still, neither of you hung up. The conversation drifted naturally like the way it always did. Joe talked about filming, the long days, the strange locations, the endless waiting around between scenes. You told him about Jacob trying to climb literally everything, the fact he'd recently discovered how funny it was to throw food, group hangouts, just normal things.

Then eventually Joe asked, "So, has the birthday planning started?"

Your face immediately brightened, "Oh my GOD I'm in my element. The theme is amazing I can't wait".

"The theme is ridiculous" Joe laughed, "My first rodeo?"

You nodded proudly, "My first rodeo"

He shook his head, "I can't believe this is happening"

"Neither can I". The realisation hit every time you thought about it. One year. Your tiny newborn was almost one. "Becca offered her place".

Joe nodded, "You doing it in the garden?"

"Yeah, hopefully we get lucky with the weather"

"That'll be perfect"

It really was. Her place had space, grass, room for decorations, guests, movement, you could already picture it. Tiny cowboy hats, good food, music, Jacob crawling around trying to steal everyone's attention.

Then your thoughts drifted elsewhere, towards the future, the thing you'd been trying not to think about. "I'd really love somewhere with a garden one day".

Joe looked up, "What, a house?"

"Just somewhere with outdoor space" You glanced around your apartment, "I want him to have room and be able to play outside, build forts, kick a ball, get muddy" Joe listened quietly, "I just can't do it yet".

His expression softened.

You continued, "I've got to go back to work at the end of the year when my work's maternity benefit ends and I couldn't think of anything worse right now". The reality felt heavier every time you said it aloud.

"And childcare?"

You laughed a tired laugh, "Don't even". Because childcare costs were terrifying. Rent existed still, life was getting more expensive and suddenly every decision regarding anything revolved around another little person. For a moment you stared down at your hands trying not to feel overwhelmed.

Then Joe spoke, "You'll figure it out"

You smiled weakly, "Hopefully. Single parent life isn't for the weak"

"No it's not, which is why you'll figure it out" His voice was calm and certain in a way that you'll never forget. Joe was watching you with that same expression he'd worn so many times over the last year, the one that always seemed to say he believed in you more than you believed in yourself.

Eventually you glanced at the clock again after what felt like spacing out for hours, "You need to go to bed"

He groaned dramatically, "I don't want to go to sleep".

You laughed, "You're 34. You sound like a 9 year old. Go to bed".

Joe smile, but he didn't look annoyed. If anything, he looked reluctant like he genuinely didn't want the conversation to end, "Fine".

"Thank you"

"It was nice talking to you"

The simple statement made your chest tighten unexpectedly.

You smiled. For a moment neither of you said goodbye, neither seeming particularly eager to hang up. Even in different countries, with different time zones and thousands of miles apart, it still felt exactly like sitting together on your sofa after Jacob had gone to sleep.

Eventually Joe smiled, "Give him a hug from me".

"I will"

"And tell him I miss him loads"

You laughed, "He misses you too".

The grin that appeared on Joe's face was impossible to miss, then finally the call ended. The screen went dark and the apartment became quiet again. But as you sat there on the sofa, smiling to yourself like an idiot, one thing had become impossible to ignore. You weren't just counting down to Jacob's birthday anymore, you were counting down until Joe came home.

Three months passed faster than you thought was possible somehow. One minute Joe had been leaving for London, and the next, summer had arrived in full force with Jacob was almost 1. You still couldn't wrap your head around it. Every time somebody said it out loud you felt slightly emotional because it felt impossible because months ago you had been sitting in a dark apartment, exhausted, heartbroken, terrified and completely convinced you were failing. Now? Now Jacob was healthy, happy, crawling at alarming speeds, pulling himself up on furniture every chance he got and surrounded by people who loved him. A lot could change in a year.

The week before the party arrived, suddenly everything became real. The catering had been ordered, cake had been ordered, decorations had arrived, the tiny cowboy outfit hanging in Jacob's wardrobe nearly made you cry every time you saw it.

Most evenings were spent at Becca's house finalising plans with her garden becoming party headquarters. One afternoon you sat outside at her patio table surrounded by boxes of balloons, banners and party bags. Becca looked around, then looked at you, "I think we've lost our minds".

You laughed, "A little".

"A little?" She picked up a packet containing thirty miniature cowboy hats, "There's 30 hats here".

"They're cute" You couldn't stop smiling. The excitement kept bubbling up inside you, followed immediately by panic which followed immediately by excitement again.

"You okay?" Becca asked.

You glanced up, "Yeah".

The lie was terrible. She immediately narrowed her eyes, "You thinking about Joe?".

You groaned because she wasn't wrong. Not entirely. The closer the party got, the more you found yourself checking your phone and replaying that conversation from months ago where he said he'd be here, he'd sounded so certain. Yet since then? No updates or confirmation on anything.

Every time you spoke, the subject somehow never came up and you refused to ask because you didn't want to sound disappointed if he couldn't make it. Becca immediately picked up on all of that, "You know you could just ask him"

"No"

"Why?"

"Because...I just can't"

"He's literally paid for 80% of this party probably, and none of us had a choice in it. He wouldn't not come and see it"

You just nodded, I guess she was right.

The truth was that things had only gotten harder over the last couple months. Your feelings hadn't disappeared, if anything they'd grown. Every FaceTime, photo, late night conversation, video of Jacob taking his first steps whilst holding onto something, every moment Joe wanted to be included in. It all added up, until one day you found yourself staring at your phone after hanging up and realising you were completely, hopelessly in love with your best friend which was deeply inconvenient. Especially because you had no intention of doing anything about it. You'd worked too hard rebuilding your life to risk losing one of the most important people in it. So instead you did what any reasonable person would do, you ignored the problem to the very best of your ability.

Three nights before the party, you sat on your apartment floor surrounded by wrapping paper with Jacob crawling directly through the middle of it all whilst simultaneously trying to sort out extra party supplies whilst stopping him from chewing on cardboard. It was a loosing battle.

Your phone buzzed on the table, Joe. You smiled before you could stop yourself. The FaceTime connected, his face appeared looking tired, hair slicked back which you assume is from filming.

"Hey"

"Hey"

Jacob instantly abandoned everything, the second he heard Joe's voice he spun around and climbed onto your lap.

Joe laughed, "There's my favourite man, hi buddy".

The next 10 minutes consisted entirely of Joe talking to Jacob as usual, you barely got a word in but eventually got distracted by a balloon bobbing at the other side of the room and crawled away.

Joe finally looked back at you, "How's party planning?"

You groaned dramatically, "Please don't. I have cowboy themed stress. Do you know how many times i've said howdy at somebody and not hello this week?"

Joe laughed, "Sounds serious"

"It is serious" You held up a tiny bandana, "I own 20 of these".

Joe completely lost it, his laughter echoed through your apartment. And for a moment, everything felt normal again like he wasn't thousands of miles away and he'd still be showing up with coffee tomorrow morning.

Joe glanced away from the camera, then back like he was thinking about something. Your heart and mind racing at lightning speed, "How's the birthday girl doing?".

You blinked, "Birthday girl?"

"You"

You laughed, "It's Jacob's birthday, not mine. Are you that much of a friend?"

"It's your anniversary too" Joe smiled softly, "One year".

Your chest tightened because he was right. A year of being a mom, year of surviving, year of becoming somebody entirely different. Then Joe quietly added, "You've done a pretty incredible job".

The praise hit harder than it should have because it came from him. He'd seen it all. The ugly parts, difficult parts, the moments nobody else saw.

"Thanks..." you wasn't sure what else to say. "You've been there for most of it too, you deserve to celebrate also".

Joe smiled, there was something in his expression you couldn't quite place. Something fond, something that made looking at him difficult till Jacob returned and smacked the phone screen with his hand. The moment vanished with both of you laughing, and neither of you mentioning it again. But after the call ended, sitting alone in your apartment while Jacob crawled around your feet, one thought kept repeating itself.

Three days. Three days until Jacob's birthday. And you still had absolutely no idea whether Joe was coming home.

The thing that surprised you most wasn't that Jack hadn't shown up again. It was how little you cared. A year ago, that realisation would've broken your heart. Now? It barely registered.

After the day he'd shown up at your apartment and Joe had practically escorted him out of your life, Jack disappeared again. No calls, no texts, not even anyone in his family contacted you, but the silence was familiar now. Disappointing for Jacob but not surprising. You'd stopped expecting anything from him months ago. Maybe that was why, when Jacob's birthday invitations went out, you decided to send one anyway. Not because you wanted him there or you thought he'd come but because one day, if Jacob ever asked, you wanted to know you'd tried. That nobody could say you kept his father away.

So one evening, after staring at your phone for 10 minutes, you sent a simple message.

Jacob's first birthday party is next Saturday. You're welcome to come if you'd like.

That was it. No emotion or expectations. Just an invitation. A few hours later, your phone buzzed followed by a disbelieving laugh from yourself.

Can't make it. Have plans with Laura.

That was the entire message. No apology. No asking about Jacob. No asking what time the party was. Nothing.

Of course that was the response. You didn't even know who Laura was. Girlfriend? The woman he'd cheated with? Someone else entirely? You honestly couldn't bring yourself to care enough to figure it out. The ridiculousness outweighed any hurt. After a full year of missing absolutely everything, he was choosing not to attend his son's first birthday because he had plans. Amazing.

You sat there for another minute, took a screenshot, opened the group chat and sent it. No context. Just the screenshot.

Amanda ARE YOU KIDDING ME

Sam WHAT?????

Wes No way.

Adam That's actually unbelievable

Poppy oh i cba

Becca I need everyone to remain calm

Thirty seconds later

Becca I AM NOT CALM

You snorted so loudly that Jacob looked up from the floor.

Amanda Laura?

Sam Who the hell is Laura?

Wes Not the point, Sam.

Sam It's a little bit the point.

Adam And his excuse is plans?

The messages continued pouring in. Everyone somehow becoming more offended than you were which honestly felt a little validating because for a second you'd wondered if maybe you were overreacting.

Your phone buzzed again. A private message from Joe.

Joe You okay?

You looked across the room. Jacob was sitting surrounded by toys attempting to put a block in his mouth. Completely oblivious, happy, safe, loved.

You I think I'm more annoyed than upset

Joe That's probably healthy

A smile tugged at your lips because it was. Before you'd have cried, wondered what was wrong with you, why you weren't enough, why your little family wasn't enough. Now? Now you were mostly just embarrassed for him because who misses their son's first birthday? Who gets invited despite everything and still chooses not to show up? That wasn't your failure. It was his.

Joe For what it's worth. Jacob won't remember who didn't show up. He'll look at photos of who did.

You stared at the words. Because when you pictured Jacob's birthday, you didn't picture Jack. Not even a little. You pictured Becca hanging decorations, Amanda fussing over the cake, Sam and Adam arguing over something ridiculous, Poppy taking a hundred photos, Wes carrying boxes and hopefully Joe walking through the gate.

You You're getting emotional in your old age

Joe Don't tell anyone

Whatever happened, Jacob's first birthday was going to be full of people who genuinely loved him. That was what mattered.

The morning of the party was chaos. The good kind. The kind you'd secretly hoped for when you started planning all of this months ago. Becca's garden had been transformed overnight. Balloons swayed gently in the warm summer breeze, cowboy themed decorations hung from fences, some hay bales had somehow appeared from somewhere, Sam claimed he'd found them but nobody was quite sure about that one. And somehow, despite weeks of worrying, the weather was perfect. Not too hot, not too cold. Just sunshine. You couldn't have ordered a better day if you'd tried. Most importantly, Jacob was having the time of his life. His tiny cowboy outfit had become the star attraction. A little denim shirt, tiny cowboy boots, his bandana, a hat he'd only kept on for 5 minutes before throwing it across the garden.

Everyone adored him. He spent the entire afternoon crawling from person to person accepting snacks, demanding attention and attempting to walk wherever he could grab on to something or someone. You couldn't stop smiling. Everywhere you looked there were people you loved. Friends and their partners, family, children, people talking, laughing, taking photos, celebrating, it felt surreal.

You found yourself standing near the drinks table for a moment just taking everything in and trying to remember it because days like this didn't happen often. Jacob would only have a first birthday once. The only thing missing was Joe. You checked your phone again and again but nothing. Your stomach twisted slightly at the thought but then you immediately scolded yourself. He definitely would have tried, and you knew he'd tried. It's work. You weren't angry, just disappointed, mostly for Jacob because Joe had wanted to be here with him so badly. Every now and then your eyes drifted toward the garden gate trying not to hope but failing.

"Smile"

You looked up, Amanda was holding her phone.

"What?"

"You're doing the thing"

"What thing?"

"The staring dramatically into the distance thing where you're thinking too hard" You rolled your eyes. "He's probably coming".

"He probably isn't" you turned back toward the party, trying to focus on what was actually in front of you. Jacob. Today was about Jacob.

A little while later everyone gathered near the tables. Food was being passed around, music drifted through the garden, Jacob was on the grass crawling around between everyone's feet living his best life. You were talking to Becca about cake timing when it happened. At first you didn't notice, just a sudden burst of noise behind you followed by a scream. Not a crying scream, an excited scream. The kind Jacob only made when something genuinely thrilled him. The entire garden seemed to turn, you looked over your shoulder and standing there was Joe. A huge backpack slung over one shoulder and holding a gift bag so absurdly large it looked bigger than the birthday boy himself sitting beside the gate. He looked exhausted, like he'd travelled forever but he was smiling, crouching down onto one knee waiting for Jacob.

The little boy was practically shrieking. Hands slapping excitedly against the grass, trying desperately to get moving faster.

"Joe!" Wes yelled.

The entire party erupted, but Joe wasn't looking at anyone else. Just Jacob, "Hey buddy!"

Your heart immediately melted. Jacob was moving as fast as humanly possible, which wasn't particularly fast but it was the effort that counted. Joe laughed as he held his arms open, "C'mon".

Everyone watched because the determination on Jacob's face was incredible. Half crawl, half wobble. Then finally, he reached Joe. The second he did, Joe scooped him up and Jacob immediately buried his face into his shoulder.

The entire garden collectively made the same noise, "Awwww".

Becca was already crying and Amanda wasn't far behind. Joe stood up with Jacob balanced comfortably on his hip looking exactly like where he belonged like he'd never been gone at all. Only then did he finally look up and find you. For a moment everything else disappeared. Joe smiled, and suddenly you couldn't breathe properly. Because he came, he actually came. For Jacob, for this, for you, and judging by the way everyone was looking between the two of you, you weren't doing a particularly good job of hiding how much that meant.

"Oh my god" You heard Becca mutter beside you but you didn't look away from Joe. Around the garden, several members of the friend group were trying, and failing, not to smile. Apparently everyone could see it, everyone except the two people involved. Meanwhile Joe remained completely oblivious, too busy listening to Jacob babble excitedly in his ear. As if trying to tell him every single thing that had happened over the last few months.

Joe nodded seriously, "Really?", Jacob babbled louder, "No way!", more babbling, "That's crazy".

The entire conversation was nonsense yet somehow they both seemed completely invested. Watching them together, standing in the middle of a garden full of people you loved, on a beautiful summer afternoon celebrating your son's first birthday, you couldn't remember the last time you'd felt this happy, grateful or lucky.

By the time the cake smash was over, Jacob was covered head to toe in frosting. Literally everywhere. At one point you'd found icing inside his ear and decided it was best not to ask questions. The second he'd been placed in front of the cake he looked confused, which turned to curiousity, then completely committed to destruction. Everyone had descended on him with phones immediately. The poor kid couldn't move without 6 different cameras documenting it.

"Look this way!" "Jacob!" "Buddy!" "Smile!"

He ignored everyone, instead choosing to repeatedly slap the cake with both hands which somehow made for even better photos. You couldn't stop laughing, especially when Joe ended up with frosting on his shirt after trying to stop Jacob from launching a handful across the garden.

"You did that to yourself" you said across from him.

"I was helping"

"You were encouraging him"

Joe looked down at Jacob and Jacob looked back. The two of them sharing a suspiciously similar expression, "Okay maybe a little".

The photos continued all afternoon. Family photos, friend photos, group photos, photos of Jacob, photos with Jacob. At one point Amanda physically dragged you and Joe together because apparently there weren't enough photos. You hadn't missed the look Becca gave her nor the look Amanda gave back. Neither of them were subtle. Joe remained blissfully unaware, or pretended to be. You honestly couldn't tell anymore.

The funniest part was Jacob, because after Joe arrived, he basically refused to acknowledge anybody else. The child had made his decision that Joe was his person for the day. Every time somebody picked him up, he'd immediately start looking around for Joe. If Joe disappeared for more than 5 minutes, Jacob would crawl after him. When Adam attempted to hold him? Immediate protest. When Wes tried? Same result. Even Becca only got about 3 minutes before Jacob was craning his neck looking elsewhere.

"Okay" Becca handed him back eventually, "I'm slightly offended".

The second Joe took him, Jacob relaxed, settling comfortably against his chest. Joe looked unbearably pleased and Jacob chose that exact moment to pat Joe's cheek affectionately.

As the sun slowly began dipping lower in the sky, guests started leaving. Family members hugged you goodbye, friends headed home, children were rounded up, leftover food was packed away. The noise gradually faded until eventually only your core group remained. You stood looking around Becca's garden now slightly messier and feeling unexpectedly emotional. One year. One whole year.

Jacob had finally crashed as they cleaned, completely exhausted and fast asleep against Joe's shoulder with his tiny cowboy boots still on and his hat still missing somewhere in the garden.

Joe gently adjusted him while everyone started clearing tables, and he glanced toward you, "I drove so we can put everything in there" nodding towards the mountain of party supplies.

You laughed, "There is so much stuff, you sure?"

"Yeah" A smile, "It'll save you carrying all of this and him home".

You smiled, "Thank you".

Eventually Becca clapped her hands together, "Right". Everyone looked over, "You three are leaving".

"What?" You questioned.

"No" Joe was just as confused.

You gestured around, "There's still stuff".

"There isn't"

"There is"

"There isn't"

You narrowed your eyes and Becca narrowed hers right back, then she pointed toward the gate, "Go home".

"Becca-"

"Nope" She pointed again, "You've been up since god knows what time and hosted a party all day"

"That's true"

"Your child is unconscious"

You glanced at Jacob who was still asleep on Joe.

Becca folded her arms, "I've got this". The rest of the group immediately nodded.

"We've got it" Adam corrected.

You looked around at all of them, your chest tightened because a year ago you felt completely alone. And now? You had this. These people, this family you'd somehow built. Then Joe gently grabbed your shoulder, "Come on".

You looked up, his smile was soft, "You need to leave before this turns into a whole thing".

"Go" "Leave" "Goodbye" "Love you"

You laughed despite yourself and Joe guided you towards the gate with Jacob sleeping peacefully against his chest and your friends waving dramatically behind you. Becca shooting the most obvious wink in human history. You rolled your eyes so hard it nearly hurt yet somehow, being beside Joe in the warm evening air while your son slept safely in his arms, your heart felt incredibly full.

The party was over. Jacob's first birthday had been perfect. And as you glanced over at Joe carrying him towards the car like it was the most natural thing in the world, you couldn't help thinking that this might end up being one of your favourite memories ever.

The second you walked through the apartment door, the exhaustion of the day finally started catching up with you. Not bad exhaustion, the kind that came after a genuinely happy day. Joe carried Jacob inside while you stayed outside for another trip to the car, then another, then one more because apparently your son had received enough presents to supply an entire daycare. By the time you finally nudged the apartment door shut with your foot, arms full of gift bags and decorations, you could already hear giggling coming from the living room.

You dumped everything on the kitchen counter, Tomorrow's problem then kicked off your shoes and followed the sound. Joe was sitting on the sofa with Jacob standing between his knees, wobbling dramatically while holding onto his hands. Both of them deep in conversation, or at least Jacob seemed convinced they were.

"Bababa mmm"

"No way"

"Lalalalala!"

"Seriously?"

A huge laugh, another babble.

Joe nodded thoughtfully, "I agree".

Jacob squealed.

You leaned against the doorway watching them. Your heart doing that annoying thing it did whenever the two of them were together.

Joe eventually looked up, "Hi".

You smiled, "What's the discussion?"

Joe glanced at Jacob, "Apparently today was a success"

"Wawawawa"

"Exactly, see"

The bedtime routine started shortly after. Jacob was still running entirely on excitement and birthday cake which meant he was somehow exhausted and hyperactive at the same time.

Joe stood up, "I'll help".

"You don't have to"

"I know I don't, but i'd like too" The familiar answer made you smile.

He helped get Jacob changed, helped find the missing pajama top he chucked and nobody could locate which somehow ended up beneath the sofa then followed you both into the nursery. Joe handed Jacob over, you settled into the rocking chair with his bottle already made. Jacob immediately snuggled into your chest, his eyelids heavy and his hand holding onto your shirt. Joe leaned quietly against the doorway watching, not wanting to disrupt. The bottle disappeared surprisingly quickly followed by a few sleepy blinks, a small burp, a yawn and within moments Jacob was asleep. Completely gone.

You couldn't help laughing, "That was easy".

Joe grinned, "He's exhausted".

"He's not the only one"

Together, you carefully lowered him into his crib. Jacob didn't even stir, the birthday excitement had finally catching up to him. You switched on the night light then quietly pulled the door closed behind you.

Back in the living room, you immediately collapsed onto the sofa. Joe laughed, "Comfortable?".

"Maybe"

"You look comfortable"

"I may never move again"

"You unfortunately have too"

A dramatic groan escaped you and Joe shook his head, "Coffee?"

You looked up immediately, "Please".

"Thought so" A few minutes later he returned carrying two mugs. The familiar smell filling the apartment. The baby monitor sat between you both on the coffee table with Jacob sleeping peacefully on the screen. The apartment was quiet. Quiet for the first time all day. No music, no guests, no chaos. It was nice. Joe handed you your mug, you wrapped both hands around it enjoying the warmth. For a few moments neither of you spoke, then before he could say anything, the words slipped out. "Thank you, like really thank you". His expression immediately shifted. You glanced toward the monitor, then back at him, "Thank you for coming. Thank you for all that you did for the party, for me, for him".

Joe opened his mouth but you continued, "I'm serious" Your throat tightened unexpectedly, "He spent the entire day looking for you".

Joe's eyes immediately flickered toward the monitor too. You laughed softly, "And then when you showed, he nearly launched himself across the garden".

Joe smiled, a small one. The kind that never quite reached full strength because he was trying to hide how much something meant to him.

"You didn't have to come all this way"

"I wanted to"

You looked down at your coffee trying to find the right words, "He adores you". The smile disappeared slightly, "He's the luckiest little boy in the world".

Joe immediately shook his head, "No"

"He is when he has people like you in his life"

"No" Your eyes met his, "That's all you. His dad doesn't show up" You shrugged slightly, "His dad doesn't call, but you do" You smiled sadly, "Every day".

Joe swallowed, looking down into his coffee.

You weren't trying to make him emotional, you were simply telling the truth. Something you weren't sure you'd ever said out loud before, "You've been there for everything and I'm glad if it's not his own dad, he has a male figure like you in his life".

Joe's jaw tightened slightly, the praise clearly making him uncomfortable. Not because he didn't like hearing it because he genuinely didn't think he deserved it. You reached across resting your hand lightly on his arm, "Thank you for loving him like he was your own".

Joe froze, your own words making your eyes immediately filled because you meant every word. He stared between the floor and the baby monitor for a while, his eyes looking glassy which immediately made yours worse. Then he smiled, "How could I not?".

Your heart absolutely shattered, in the best possible way, because there wasn't a single ounce of hesitation in his voice. And as the image of Jacob sleeping peacefully flickered softly on the monitor between you, something settled inside your chest. Something that felt like certainty. Nothing about romance, not even about the future, just the fact whatever happened next, Jacob would always know what it felt like to be loved. And sitting beside you on the sofa, coffee in hand after one very perfect birthday, was one of the biggest reasons why.

Suddenly, the emotions of the entire day and this conversation seemed to hit you all at once, tears slipping from you.

"Oh god no, no tears today" Joe laughed weakly.

"I'm sorry"

"No more crying"

"I can't help it"

Then before you could think better of it, you set your coffee mug down on the table. Joe barely had time to react before you leaned across the sofa and wrapped your arms around him. Immediately he hugged you back as you told him "Thank you" again. It was the kind of hug you'd shared countless times before but this one held on a little longer, neither of you in a hurry to let go. You buried your face against his shoulder, "Thank you".

Joe's arms tightened slightly, "You don't have to keep thanking me".

"I do, I will for a long time"

His chin rested briefly against your hair, "You don't owe me anything".

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look at him, "I appreciate you so much".

Joe's expression softened and for a second neither of you moved, neither of you looked away. You were suddenly very aware of how close he was, of how many times you'd imagined what it might feel like if- before your brain had a chance to catch up, you leaned forward and kissed him.

The moment it happened, time seemed to stop, and your brain immediately caught up. Oh God. You'd kissed your best friend.

You pulled back instantly, eyes wide and horrified, "Oh my god". Joe stared at you, equally stunned, "I didn-". You covered your face, "Oh my god". A nervous laugh escaped you, "I'm so sorry, I don't know why I did that".

Another apology immediately followed, "I'm sorry". Then another, "Really sorry".

You were halfway through another apology when Joe finally shook his head, a laugh escaping him, "Would you stop apologising?".

"What?"

"Seriously, stop" His smile was almost disbelieving, "You have got to stop apologising".

You stared at him completely lost. Joe looked at you for another second then slowly reached up brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture made your heart stop, "You really have no idea, do you?".

Your stomach flipped "Joe..."

The smile that appeared was equal parts fond and nervous, then he leaned forward and kissed you. This time there was no surprise. The kiss was gentle at first like he was giving you every opportunity to pull away. The hell you were. Instead, your hand found his shoulder and when he smiled against your lips, you couldn't help smiling too.

When the kiss finally broke, neither of you moved very far. Both laughing slightly from nerves, from relief, from how long it had taken. You buried your face in your hands from embarrassment, he laughed and gently pulled your hands away looking at you like you were something he'd been afraid to reach for, "I've wanted to do that for ages".

Your heart nearly stopped, "You have? Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because" His eyes drifted briefly toward the baby monitor, "You had enough going on".

The answer was so typically Joe that it almost made you cry again. Instead you smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder and he wrapped an arm around you immediately like it belonged there. For the first time in a very long time, the future didn't feel scary. It felt exciting. The best parts of your life had already been sitting beside you on that sofa all along.

He reached out again, his hand cupping the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, pulling you towards him. When his lips meet yours this time, it is twice as heavy, twice as desperate. It isn't a question anymore, now more of an answer. He kissed you with a force that pushed you backwards into the cushions of the sofa. You gasped against his mouth, taking the opportunity to deepen the kiss, one arm wrapping around your waist to haul you closer.

You responded straight away, your hands finding his shoulders again, pulling him down to you. His kisses became frantic, messy and perfect all in one. He moved his mouth from your lips to your jaw, trailing down your neck, arching your back in response to him. You couldn't tell if the room was spinning, or if it was the overwhelming realisation that this was actually happening.

"We should sleep" he muttered against your neck a few moments later, knowing the time was getting on.

"Yeah, we should. Are you uh, staying?"

"If you'll have me?"

A smile was all he needed. And after a long day of happiness, you both ended up moments later just enjoying each other's presence in the space of your bed. No sex, no kissing, just the sound of the monitor next to you and each other's breathing.

The first thing the next morning you became aware of was a voice. A soft, sleepy, amused voice. You frowned slightly against your pillow still half asleep, hearing it again. His voice. You smiled before your eyes had even opened.

The memories from the night before came flooding back immediately. The sofa, coffee, conversations, the kiss, or several kisses actually. The fact that somewhere between laughing and talking afterwards, you'd both eventually ended up in your bed and simply fallen asleep. The thought alone made you smile into your pillow.

Then another voice reached you, a much smaller one. An excited babble. Your eyes finally opened to see the sunlight filtering softly through, it felt like the whole world was at peace. You rolled onto your side to look at the baby monitor, Joe standing beside Jacob's crib, topless and in yesterday's jeans, hair sticking up slightly from sleep, leaning over the side talking quietly to Jacob. Jacob was standing, holding onto the rails absolutely delighted with the fact he's woken up to Joe.

"Wawawawa"

Joe nodded seriously, "No way, I had that dream too!"

Jacob laughed. "Bababa"

"Really?"

Another squeal. You couldn't help smiling. For several moments you simply watched, not wanting to interrupt because it was one of those little moments, the kind you'd want to remember forever. Then it happened.

"Dada"

You blinked at the monitor. Joe stood there frozen next to him, and Jacob was grinning.

"Dada!"

Your eyebrows immediately shot upward, on the monitor Joe looked equally surprised, "What did you say Jacob?".

Jacob bounced excitedly, "Dada!".

The room fell silent, then Joe laughed. A genuine surprised laugh, "Did you just call me dada?".

Jacob practically shrieked with excitement, "DADA!" Another laugh. Then "Dada dada dada dada".

You sat upright, completely awake now, part of you didn't know what to think. Because on one hand your heart was melting. On the other, the tiny traitor hadn't even said mama yet, and  apparently he'd decided Joe was getting dada. Good to know where everyone's loyalties lay.You shook your head, laughing despite yourself. Curiosity eventually won. You climbed out of bed and quietly made your way down the hallway, the nursery door sat slightly open. You stopped outside, peeking in. Joe hadn't noticed you yet, he was still beside the crib with Jacob standing proudly inside, "Dada!"

Joe laughed again, "You can't just say that".

Jacob thought this was the funniest thing he'd ever heard, "Dada!".

"Buddy..."

More laughter, "Dada".

You honestly couldn't tell which one of them looked happier. The floor creaked beneath your foot as you adjusted your step. Joe looked up, immediately smiling, "Morning".

A smile appeared before you could stop it, "Morning".

Joe glanced toward Jacob, "Mama's here look!"

Jacob turned to look at you, then immediately looked back at Joe, "Dada!"

You stared, Joe burst out laughing, "No Jacob, mama's here".

"Dada"

You placed a hand over your chest, "Wow. After all I put myself through for you kid".

Joe was struggling not to laugh, "That's rough".

"Dada", Joe laughed harder.

Eventually you stepped fully into the room standing beside them watching Jacob grin at both of you. You looked toward Joe, then toward Jacob and back again, "I hope you know you don't have to encourage that".

Joe's smile softened slightly immediately understanding what you meant. The joking had faded, "I know". Joe would never try to replace anyone, even after everything. He glanced back toward Jacob, then at you. "If it makes you uncomfortable, I don't have to play along".

The answer from you came honestly and without hesitation, "No" You smiled softly, "As long as you're okay with it".

Something shifted in Joe's expression. Surprised mixed with emotion because he knew what you were really saying. Not that Jacob thought he was his father, because at one year old, Jacob didn't understand titles. What he understood was love, consistency, who showed up for him, who stayed and whether he meant to or not, Joe had become one of those people.

You looked down at Jacob still holding onto the crib, "Dada".

Joe laughed quietly. The sound almost emotional, then reached down and scooped him up. Jacob immediately settling against him happy and content. Your heart swelled so much it almost hurt because standing there in the nursery doorway, watching the man you loved holding the little boy you loved most in the world, you suddenly imagined for the first time in a very long time, a future and wondering if you'd be okay. But you already were.

Joe had to fly back a few days later, but the few weeks passed surprisingly quickly. Not because you didn't miss Joe, you absolutely did, so did Jacob. Days were filled with confused looks toward the apartment door every time a knock sounded somewhere in the building. A lot of dada, FaceTime calls, Joe making ridiculous noises through a phone screen to keep a one year old entertained. But this time felt different, the anxiety wasn't there because you knew he wasn't leaving, he was coming back to you.

Then one Thursday afternoon your phone buzzed as you was folding laundry on the floor of Jacob's nursery as he played in his crib.

Joe Landed.

A smile immediately spread across your face.

You Welcome home :)

Joe Can I come see my favorite little guy?

You Sure. I'm sure Mr Martin from across the hall really wants to see you too

Joe I was talking about Jacob.

You Liar.

Less than an hour later there was a knock at your door. Jacob looked up immediately, his head turning toward the sound. You laughed, "Oh my god, how do you do that?" The child somehow knew. You picked him up and walked towards the door, opening it to see Joe stood there smiling. Hair slightly longer than before and looking tired from travel.

"Where are your bags?"

"Dropped them at home"

"Haven't you just landed?"

"Speed" Joe shrugged. "I wanted to see you" and he looked at Jacob, "And him".

Jacob had already tried to climb out of your arms and towards Joe, "DADA".

Joe laughed instantly, "Hi buddy, I missed you" grabbing him from you. The apartment somehow started feeling complete again.

That evening, after dinner and playtime and enough laughter to make your cheeks hurt, Jacob finally surrendered to sleep. By the time you returned to the living room, Joe was sitting on the sofa exactly where he'd sat a hundred times before but things felt different. You sat beside him, enjoying the quiet for a while till eventually Joe spoke, "I've been thinking".

You immediately laughed, "Okay..."

His smile appeared, "What do you want?"

You blinked, "What?"

Joe looked at you, "The future"

You thought about it, then smiled, "A garden"

Joe laughed, "I'm serious"

"So am I" You smiled, "I want somewhere bigger. Eventually a place big enough with extra room for Jacob, maybe outside of the city, maybe a dog". Joe immediately nodded, "Good choice"

Then your expression softened, "I just want Jacob to grow up happy".

Joe smiled, "That's already happening"

Your eyes drifted toward the baby monitor. The little boy who had changed your entire world. Then you looked back at Joe, "I want stability".

For so long you'd lived without it and Joe understood immediately, "You deserve that".

You smiled, "What about you?"

Joe leaned back slightly thinking, "Honestly?". You nodded. He looked toward the hallway, towards the nursery, then back at you and smiled, "This. Not exactly this apartment".

You laughed, "Good"

"No offense"

"Only a little taken"

He grinned, "I mean..." His eyes met yours. "I like having people to come home to. Especially you and Jacob".

Joe had spent years traveling, working, living out of suitcases, different hotel rooms, just always moving. It made sense.

"I don't know exactly what everything looks like yet" he admitted. "But I know I want you both in it. If you'll have me" Joe smiled nervously.

"As a package deal?"

He laughed, "Definitely a package deal". Joe reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers, "We take it one day at a time".

You nodded, "One day at a time"

"I'll do everything I can to give him the best life possible, and you" Joe smiled and squeezed your hand gently, "And I do know one thing".

"What?"

His eyes drifted toward the monitor again, at the child who'd unknowingly changed both of your lives, "I'm not going anywhere".

And for the first time since moving to New York all those years ago, you believed him completely. Not because he promised or because he said the perfect thing, but because he'd already spent the last year proving it time and time again. Loving both of you without ever asking for recognition for it.

You leaned against him, his arm immediately wrapping around your shoulders and together you sat there on the sofa watching the baby monitor. Talking quietly about houses, gardens, dogs, birthdays and all the little things that make up a life. The future still wasn't fully written. There would be challenges, questions, messy moments just like any family. But as the night stretched on around you, one thing felt certain. This was love.

He pulled you in tighter as you spoke, placing a kiss on the top of your head, "I've got you, both of you".

[emqqx]

hi! i would like to request that reader and joe have a beach day maybe on holiday or just in a beachy area and the whole day is fun but when they come back home, reader is all sunburnt and joe finds it funny because shes all red but ends up trying to help her the best he can anyway

"Sunburnt"

⋆⭒˚.⋆ Joe Keery x reader ⋆⭒˚.⋆

english is not my language please be kind and sorry if i wrote wrong :) requests are open if you want!

summary: On holiday you and Joe enjoy a perfect beach day until you come home all sunburnt and Joe takes care of you

warnings: Fluff, established relationship, mild sunburn discomfort, light teasing/humor.

You wake up to the sound of gentle waves lapping against the shore and the soft rustle of palm leaves outside the open balcony doors of your beachfront villa. The warm tropical air carries the scent of salt, coconut, and blooming frangipani.

 This is day four of your much needed holiday in Bali, and every morning feels like a dream. Joe stirs beside you, his arm draped possessively across your waist, his hair tousled from sleep and the humidity, he nuzzles into your neck with a contented hum.

“Morning, love,” he murmurs, voice still thick with sleep and that irresistible accent.

 “Fancy another beach day? Or should we just stay in bed and pretend we’re shipwrecked?”

You laugh softly, turning to face him, his eyes are bright even in the early light, and the faint tan he’s already picking up makes him look like he belongs on a postcard. 

“Beach day, definitely, but this time I’m not letting you distract me from sunscreen duty.”

He grins, pulling you closer for a lazy kiss.

 “No promises, y'know how I get when you’re in that swimsuit.”

The villa is perfect, private, with its own infinity pool overlooking the Indian Ocean, a thatched-roof cabana, and direct access to a stretch of powdery white sand that feels almost unreal. 

You’d booked it on a whim after Joe wrapped his latest project, both of you craving escape from the relentless pace of life back home. No schedules, no paparazzi (mostly), just sun, sea, and each other.

After a leisurely breakfast on the balcony with fresh fruit and balinese coffee, you pack the beach bag with towels, books, snacks, and plenty of SPF 50. Joe watches you slather it on with mock seriousness.

“Thorough as always,” he teases, stealing the bottle to help with your back. His hands are warm and lingering, turning the simple task into something tender. “There, now you’re officially invincible.”

You return the favor, making sure to cover every inch of his shoulders and the back of his neck.

 “Don’t want my leading man looking like a boiled prawn on set next month.”

“Too late for that,” he says with a wink. “I tan beautifully, you, on the other hand…”

You swat his arm and head out.

The beach is calling, the sand is warm underfoot as you walk hand in hand toward the water, the sun already climbing high in a cloudless sky.

 It’s still early enough that the stretch feels mostly yours, with only a few other couples and locals scattered far away. Joe immediately kicks off his sandals and runs toward the waves like an excited kid, calling back for you to join him.

The water is crystal clear and refreshingly cool against your heated skin. You wade in together, laughing as small waves splash against your legs, Joe dives under a bigger one and emerges right in front of you, shaking water from his hair like a dog, spraying you both. “Got you!”

Water fights ensue, he lifts you effortlessly, spinning you around as you shriek and cling to his shoulders. The sun glints off the droplets on his skin, and for a moment you’re struck by how carefree he looks far from the intense, focused actor the world usually sees. Here, he’s just Joe; playful, affectionate, completely present.

You spend hours in the sea.

 Snorkeling near the reef edge, pointing out colorful fish and a lazy sea turtle that glides past. Joe holds your hand underwater, squeezing it every time something beautiful catches your eye and back on shore, you build an elaborate sandcastle together, complete with a moat, towers, and seashell decorations as he narrates the entire construction like it’s an epic film.

“And here, the brave knight…played by me…defends the realm from the invading crabs!” A small crab scuttles near your creation, and Joe dramatically leaps to “defend” it, making you laugh until your sides hurt.

Lunch is delivered to your cabana by the villa staff, you eat in the shade, legs tangled together on the oversized lounger. Joe feeds you bites of mango, his fingers brushing your lips.

 Conversation flows easily, memories of past trips, dreams for the future, silly hypotheticals about what superpower you’d want at the beach

Post-lunch, you read side by side, you’re deep into a romance novel while Joe flips through a script he swears he’s only “lightly annotating.” The heat builds, but the ocean breeze keeps it bearable, eventually, you both drift into a nap, lulled by the rhythmic waves and the distant call of birds.

The afternoon brings more adventure, you rent a double kayak and paddle out along the coast, exploring hidden coves and jumping into deeper water for swims. Joe’s competitive streak emerges during a race back to shore, which he wins by a narrow margin and celebrates by tackling you gently into the shallows. You emerge covered in sand, hair wild, both of you grinning like idiots.

Later, you take a long walk down the beach, collecting smooth stones and pretty shells. The sun is lower now, bathing everything in golden light, but still intense, Joe stops every so often to kiss you, soft, lingering kisses that taste like salt and sunscreen.

 “I could do this forever,” he whispers against your lips at one point. “Just you, me, and the sea.”

As the day winds down, you pack up and head back to the villa, sand clinging to your skin, muscles pleasantly tired, hearts full. The short walk along the private path feels longer in the lingering heat. You feel warm, very warm but the glow of the perfect day overshadows any concern.

The moment you step inside the cool, air-conditioned villa and catch your reflection in the large mirror by the entrance, reality hits.

“Oh… no,” you groan.

Your skin is bright red, shoulders, chest, the bridge of your nose, cheeks, and the tops of your thighs where your swimsuit shifted during all the activity, every exposed inch is an angry, glowing crimson. You look like you’ve been dipped in red paint.

Joe comes up behind you, sees the reflection, and immediately bursts into laughter, a deep, genuine, can’t-stop laugh that has him clutching the doorframe for support.

 “Love… Jesus Christ. You look like a ripe tomato that lost a fight with the sun. A very beautiful tomato, but still.”

“Joe!”

 You turn, trying to glare but failing because his laughter is contagious and you start giggling too, even as the sting sets in. 

“This is your fault! all those ‘distractions’ in the water.”

He wipes tears from his eyes, still chuckling.

 “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just… the contrast with the pale bits is incredible. You’ve got proper farmer’s tan lines, like, if we took a photo now, it could be modern art.”

You swat at him half-heartedly, wincing at the movement. The burn is starting to throb and his expression softens instantly.

 “Alright, alright, laughing time is over, nurse Joe reporting for duty. Come here, my little tomato.”

He guides you gently to the outdoor bathroom area attached to the villa, with its open air shower and large stone tub overlooking the garden. 

First, he turns on the cool water in the shower, not cold, just refreshingly lukewarm and helps you rinse off the sand and salt with the utmost care, avoiding rough scrubbing. 

“Easy does it,” he murmurs, his hands light on your skin.

Once you’re clean, he wraps you in a soft, fluffy towel and sits you on the edge of the tub. He disappears inside for a moment and returns with the big bottle of aloe vera gel you’d packed, plus some after-sun lotion the villa provided, and a couple of cold compresses from the mini-fridge.

“This is going to feel nice,” he promises, squeezing a generous amount of aloe into his palms and warming it slightly. He starts at your shoulders, applying the gel in slow, soothing circles. The cooling relief is immediate and heavenly, you sigh deeply, eyes closing as he works.

“Talk to me,” he says softly. “Rate the burn from one to ‘I’m never going outside again.’”

“Solid seven,” you admit. “But your hands are making it better.”

He continues down your arms, across your collarbone, careful around the neckline of your swimsuit, his touch is reverent, almost worshipful.

 “You were glowing out there today, not just from the burn, though that’s impressive too. I loved every second. The sandcastle, the kayak, the way you squealed when that wave hit us…”

You smile, relaxing under his care, he moves to your back, massaging gently.

 The villa’s ambient sounds fill the comfortable silence between stories, he recounts his favorite moments in detail, making you laugh again despite the discomfort.

After the gel, he helps you into loose, breathable clothes: one of his oversized linen shirts and soft shorts.

 “No tight anything tonight,” he declares.

 Then it’s time for hydration. He mixes a big pitcher of coconut water with lime and mint, insisting you drink while he prepares a light dinner. 

Dinner is served on the balcony as the sky turns deep indigo and stars begin to appear. You sit carefully, and Joe keeps the mood light with more stories and terrible puns.

 “You’re my favorite lobster.”

After eating, he draws a lukewarm oatmeal bath in the large tub, he sits on the wide edge, keeping you company, washing your hair with gentle fingers when you ask.

 “This is proper holiday service,” he jokes. “Five-star boyfriend experience.”

Later in bed, under the slow-rotating ceiling fan, he pulls you close, mindful of every red patch. His chest is cool and solid, a perfect anchor. 

“I love you,” he whispers into your hair. “Sunburnt, happy, everything. Today was one of the best days of my life.”

You tilt your head up to look at him, the faint glow of the bedside lamp casting soft shadows across his face. Even in the dim light, you can see the warmth in his eyes, the same sparkle that had been there all day while you played in the waves.

 “I love you too,” you murmur, voice a little hoarse from all the laughing and saltwater. “Even though you laughed at me like I was the funniest thing you’d ever seen.”

Joe chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through his chest against you. “Guilty but in my defense, you were adorably red.”

 His fingers trace feather-light patterns along your upper arm, carefully avoiding the most tender spots.

 “Does it still hurt badly?”

“A little,” you admit. “But this helps, a lot.”

He shifts slightly, reaching for the bottle of aloe gel on the nightstand without fully letting you go. With practiced gentleness, he applies another thin layer to your shoulders and collarbone, his touch cool and soothing. The fan whispers above you, stirring the warm night air scented with frangipani from the garden outside. Somewhere in the distance, waves continue their endless rhythm against the shore, a lullaby for the two of you.

“You were incredible today,” he says quietly as he works. “The way you kept swimming even when that big wave knocked you over, the sandcastle empire we built, that kayak race where you almost beat me.” He smirks. “Almost.”

You smile, relaxing deeper into the pillows. “I let you win, felt bad for your ego.”

“Liar,” he teases, capping the aloe and setting it aside.

 He pulls the light sheet over both of you, careful not to let it drag across your burns.

 “But I’ll take the mercy. Tomorrow we’re doing full shade protocol. Big umbrella, hats, one of those ridiculous cover-up shirts for you, I'll even wear the big straw hat you like so much. We’ll look like proper tourists.”

The image makes you laugh, which pulls at your skin a bit, but it’s worth it. Joe notices and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“We’ve still got ten more days here,plenty of time for more beach days, but smarter ones.”

You nod, tracing lazy circles on his chest with your fingertip. 

“I don’t regret a second of it,” you tell him honestly. “Even the sunburn, it was worth it.”

Joe’s expression softens further, he cups your cheek, thumb brushing just beneath your eye where the skin is less affected. 

“You’re going to have the cutest freckles after this, I can already see them forming across your nose. My little sun-kissed girl.”

The tenderness in his voice makes your heart ache in the best way. You lean in and kiss him and he respond with the same gentle intensity, one hand resting lightly on your waist, the other threading through your hair. When you pull back, he rests his forehead against yours.

“Get some sleep, love. Your body needs it to heal and I’ll be right here if the sting wakes you up.”

True to his word, Joe stays awake a little longer, reading quietly from his script on his phone with the brightness turned low. Every so often he checks on you, adjusting the fan speed or gently reapplying gel when you stir, his quiet vigilance wraps around you like another layer of comfort.

Taglist: @watercolorskyy, @deviousfaye , @watercolorskyy , @l33nlikeacholo , @ophirei@leahfaith@bluehexagon8@unclejeezysblog @sweatydjoshoes

[hearts4steve]

જ⁀➴ red sea

joe keery x styles!reader

“seriously, em, it’s like i’ve got bigfoot in between my legs.” you complained to your friend over the phone. “it wasn’t like this was dalton. my stomach’s way too big to get all up in there, and there’s no way i’m not getting rid of it before i give birth.”

“why don’t you ask gemma?” she hummed. “she’d get it.”

“anniversary.” you grumbled. “italy.”

“ooh nice.”

“not nice!” you said louder than necessary. “i can’t even get on a two hour plane because they’ll think i’ll pop mid air. and now i don’t think they’ll let me on because they’ll think i’m harboring a bear in between my legs.”

emily cackled. “why don’t you ask joe? he wouldn’t mind.”

“ask me what?”

you jumped. “how do you walk so… silently?”

he shrugged, popping dalton’s left over strawberries in his mouth. he waved to the screen. “hi emily.”

she waved back. “hi joe.”

“what were you two talking about?”

your mouth opened and closed. you turned to look at your screen for some help from emily only to find out she had hung up.

traitor.

“i’ve… i’ve grown a bush.” you said quietly.

“mm, i know.” he nodded. “i love it.”

your face turned red. “joe!”

“what! i’m being honest!”

you attempted to cross your arms over your chest, but failed given the planet that is your stomach.

“so what? you two were just talking about your bush?”

“i need it gone.”

his jaw dropped. “you’re getting rid of it?”

“well don’t seem so disappointed!”

“i am!”

you pushed his arm playfully. “it needs to go. can you help? can’t reach.”

“can i help? baby, i’m the designated barber back home. i cut my friends hair for a living.”

you scrunched your nose up and tilted your head. “that can’t be right.”

“let’s go give you a trim.” he stood up abruptly, offering you his hand.

“bald, joe. i want to be glistening. not a single hair left behind. you’ve got to get in between everything. okay?”

he placed his hand on your lower back, guiding you. “i’ll part you like the red sea, baby, don’t worry.”

you turned to look at him only to find him being oh so serious. you burst out in laughter, leaning on him for support.

“how did you even think of that!”

“i’m a natural.” he shrugged, a grin tugging on his lips.

“remind me to tell em later, oh god, joe.” you wiped your wet eyelashes with the back of your index finger. you sighed, recomposing yourself. you put a hand on your stomach and waddled to the bathroom.

“part me like the red sea.” you muttered to yourself, shaking your head ever so slightly. “genius.”

that day, joe walked around with his chest puffed up in pride; he made a woman too pregnant to find anything amusing cry from laughter.

[imani4reading]

Of Course She’s My Girlfriend! | Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: No one knows for sure if you and Steve Harrington are dating or just really close, really touchy, friends. Dustin, with the help of the party, sets out to find out the truth and put an end to the unsolved case of what you and Steve are.

A/N: If you’re a reader of Heroes, take this as my formal apology for chapter 30 and 31 :)

WARNINGS: Fluff, the kids are certified stalkers, kinda suggestive at the end

WC: 2.6K

Main Masterlist!

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Whether you and Steve Harrington were touchy best friends who seemingly had magnets that drew you into one another, or simply just a couple, was a mystery to which no one had a definitive answer to.

It was no secret that you two were best friends for the past couple of years. You both met in middle school and ever since you were put in the same science class, you two were inseparable.

Your playful shoves and harsh pillow fights that left you with a headache for days slowly matured into something more intimate as you both grew up.

Your fingers would brush, your knees would touch, you’d tangle your legs with his.

No one questioned it at first. Not until you and your friends were hanging out at the Wheeler’s place during a movie night.

The kids had taken the floor and you older teens were spread out along the couch. Robin tucked away in the corner with her knees pulled to her chest, Nancy sitting beside her with her legs crossed, Jonathan to her left with his arms crossed, and Eddie sitting next to him, his head drooping back every now and then as he slowly fell asleep.

And of course, there was you and Steve on the other side of the couch.

Your back was pressed against the arm of the couch, legs draped over Steve’s. But that wasn’t the issue. The issue was that his fingers were gently grazing up and down your thigh.

Dustin was lying on his stomach and glanced over his shoulder. The poor kid had to do a double take to ensure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

And surely enough they weren’t.

One of Steve’s hands was on your knee while the other was caressing the soft skin exposed at your thigh.

You yawned, leaning to rest your head onto his shoulder. Steve smiled at you and snuggled his nose into the crook of your neck.

Dustin’s eyes widened.

Since when were you and Steve a thing?

And that’s the question that made him think for days on end.

He couldn’t go fifteen minutes without his mind wandering back to the idea of you and Steve being a thing. Everyone knew you two were close, but close enough that he was touching your thigh and rubbing his nose along your neck?

What the fuck kind of friendship was that?

Dustin thought maybe that’s the kind of friendship you two had established.

But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he would never be caught dead doing such a thing with one of his friends.

Then again…you and Steve had always been touchy.

Dustin couldn’t take the spiraling questions in his own head anymore. He needed answers and he needed them fast.

He rounded up the party at his house one late afternoon and paced his living room.

“Does anyone think their relationship is kinda weird?” he asked, walking back and forth, hands on his hips.

Mike’s eyes followed Dustin. “I mean, they’ve always been touchy,” he said. “This isn’t some insane revelation.”

Dustin halted in his tracks. “That’s what I thought, but the other day when we had a movie night, she was pretty much sitting on top of him and he was, like, touching all up on her and rubbing his nose against her neck,” he explained, cringing at each and every word. The vision was forever ingrained into his mind and he wished for a way to delete it.

“That’s disgusting,” Will gagged, scrunching his nose.

“Well, what if they’re dating?” Lucas suggested.

“That’s what I was thinking too,” Dustin replied.

El furrowed her brows, looking between the group. “I do not follow. Wouldn’t they tell us they are boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“I mean, I guess,” Lucas shrugged. “Unless they wanted to keep it a secret.”

“But why?” El asked.

“Who knows,” Max grumbled, leaning back onto the couch. “Can’t we go to the arcade or something?” She was growing increasingly bored by the second. She didn’t really care what you and Steve were. In her mind, it was none of her business.

Dustin’s eyes lit up. “Holy shit,” he breathed out. “They’re hanging out today! We could go spy on them!”

“And see if they’re a thing!” Lucas exclaimed.

Max blinked, standing up. “Woah, woah, woah,” she said, closing her eyes and shaking her head. When she opened them again, Lucas was standing too. “We’re not gonna go spy on them!”

“I think Steve mentioned something about the movies,” Dustin explained, already moving to grab his shoes from beside the door.

“Uh, hello?!” Max shouted. “We’re not spying on them!”

Mike stood up, checking his watch. “Wait, what time is the showing? We should be there before they show up.”

Lucas snapped his fingers. “Smart.”

“Are you all deaf?!” Max yelled.

“Six o’clock showing,” Dustin said, tying his laces. “We can make it if we leave now.”

Dustin shot up, him and Mike already walking out the front door. Lucas went to leave too, looking over his shoulder from the doorway to see Max standing in the living room with a look of bewilderment. “Max, come on!” he said before walking out the door.

Max’s hand landed on her face before turning to face El and Will who were still sitting on the couch with wide eyes. “I hate boys,” Max sighed.

“Hey!” Will scoffed.

“You don’t count.”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

The kids claimed their spots towards the front of the theater, assuming that you and Steve wouldn’t want to sit too close to the screen.

A few minutes had gone by before you and Steve walked in.

Dustin sank into his seat, pulling his cap further down his face in an attempt to cover it. “I’ve got eyes on our targets,” he whispered.

One of Steve’s hands rested against your lower back, the other holding a bucket of popcorn. You were rambling about something and Steve was nodding his head, a small smile on his lips.

“Wow, they’re totally dating, hooray,” Max mused sarcastically. “Can we leave now?”

Dustin turned around, looking over the seats watching as you and Steve sat beside each other. “Not yet. We don’t have solid evidence.”

Will rolled his eyes. “So you’re just gonna sit there looking over the seats like a complete weirdo for the entire movie?”

“Yes.”

El raised a brow. “That is creepy.”

Lucas and Mike peaked over their shoulders. You wrapped your arm around Steve’s looking up at him with eyes that twinkled as if he had given you the moon.

“Aww,” Lucas cooed. He turned to face his friends. “Now that’s what I like to call the look of love.”

Max, El, and Will looked over, Dustin still having his neck completely craned around and staring.

Steve’s thumb brushed your cheek gently, a look in his eyes that none of the kids had ever seen before.

Will turned back around, shaking his head. “This feels invasive.”

“Very,” Max agreed, looking away. “Why can’t we do something fun on a Friday in the middle of the summer?”

“Because this takes priority,” Dustin announced, eyes still fixated on you and Steve. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this. Tonight. Mark my words.”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

After not gathering enough evidence from the movies, the kids then followed you and Steve to a drive in diner later that night.

Your legs were kicked up on the dash, and by the speed in which your mouth was moving, you were definitely talking about whatever new nerdy interest you had gotten into recently.

“No way,” Dustin grumbled, peaking just barely above a bush with his binoculars over his eyes.

“What?!” Lucas whisper shouted, thinking that Dustin had evidence that you two were dating.

“Her feet are on the dash!”

Max threw her head back. “Oh, my God. I told you they’re not dating.”

“They definitely are,” Dustin fired back, removing his binoculars from his face and turning to her. “Steve would kill any one of us if we put our shoes on the dash.”

“That is true,” Mike agreed.

“Okay, and?” Max asked. “They’re, like, super close. I’m sure he doesn’t give a shit.”

“This is ridiculous,” Will mumbled. “I mean look at us! We’re hiding in a bush stalking people!”

“Shh!” Dustin shushed his friend. “You’re going to get us caught,” he whispered.

“Woah, look,” El said softly, pointing a finger straight ahead.

The kids whipped their heads back over to you and Steve.

You were laughing, Steve’s fingers brushing your hair out of your face. He was leaning in slowly when…

You shoved his face out of the way.

“Ha!” Max exclaimed, standing up straight. “Told you they weren’t dating!”

Mike grabbed her wrist, pulling her back down into the bush earning a glare from her. “Get down! You’re gonna expose us!”

“Maybe you need to be exposed for stalking, you creeps!”

“You’re literally stalking too!”

“Doesn’t make any sense,” Dustin mumbled.

“Makes sense to me,” Max spoke up. “They’re not dating. Case closed. Let’s go home.”

“He just kissed her,” El spoke.

“What?!” Lucas exclaimed, looking back to the car.

“Are you sure?” Will asked with uncertainty. The angle in which they were would make it difficult to tell as they were facing your passenger side window.

“On the cheek,” El clarified.

Dustin stood up. “We’re going to their apartment.”

“What?!” Max exclaimed, watching him, Lucas, and Mike climb out from behind the bush and toward their bikes. “You’re joking! You have to be!”

“How would we even get in? Breaking and entering?” Will asked with a scoff.

“Not necessary,” Dustin told them. “I stole his spare. Come on, let’s go!”

Max and Will groaned, rolling their eyes.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Steve’s Beamer pulled into the parking lot of your apartment, the dim lights illuminating the street.

You smiled and turned to face him. “I had fun tonight, Steve,” you said softly, cheeks flushed a shade of pink.

He smiled, turning the car off. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Mhm.”

Steve leaned in over the center console, face just inches from yours. “Well, I had fun too,” he murmured. His eyes flickered down to your lips. “Good thing I have more planned for tonight.”

You raised your brows. “Oh, really?” He nodded with a low hum. “Why don’t you tell me then?”

“I think it’s better I show you.”

Steve’s lips ghosted over yours before he finally kissed you.

You sighed into his mouth, your fingers raking through his hair. He tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss. His lips parted slightly as your tongue was just centimeters away from entering his mouth.

He pulled away, nose brushing yours. “But not here,” he murmured. “We’ve got a whole apartment to ourselves.”

You smiled as he hopped out of the car. He walked over to your door and opened it, extending his hand out to you.

You took it and he shut the door before locking the car and leading you up to your shared apartment.

As soon as the door opened, you were back on him again.

His back hit the door, your hands pressed firmly against his chest, lips on his. He groaned, hands moving to grab your waist.

He pulled away, eyes wide. “Holy shit, you want me that bad?” he teased, that stupid smirk on his lips.

“Shut up, Harrington,” you said, rolling your eyes.

Steve chuckled, picking you up before kissing you again, your legs wrapping around him. He walked to your shared bedroom, lying you down onto your back on the bed.

Your legs remained wrapped around his waist as his lips peppered kisses down your jaw. He made his way down to your neck, playfully biting down on the sensitive skin.

You moaned softly, fingers digging into his back through the fabric of his shirt. “Steve…”

“Hmm?” he asked, kissing the spot he just nipped.

“Did I leave my jacket there?”

Steve furrowed his brows, completely caught off guard. He thought you were moaning his name because his mouth was making you feel good. Meanwhile you were asking about an article of clothing. He lifted his face up and glanced down at you. He followed your line of sight, staring at your jacket that was lying on the dresser. “Maybe,” he said with a shrug.

He leaned back down, kissing your lips for about two seconds before you gently pushed his chest and he pulled away. “I know I didn’t leave that there.”

Steve wanted nothing more but to kiss you in peace, yet here you were, stuck on a jacket that was lying on the damn dresser.

“Baby, you had to have left it there,” he reasoned. “Why else would it be there?”

You could’ve sworn you put it back into the closet before you left, but maybe you didn’t.

“I guess…”

Steve’s hand slid up your shirt, causing you to inhale sharply.

He kissed your cheek, fingers trailing along the fabric of your bra. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you responded as if it were second nature.

He leaned in to kiss you again, this time deeper. His tongue grazed your bottom lip and you let him in, sighing as your fingers ran up the back of his shirt, trailing along his muscles.

Suddenly, something creaked from under the bed.

You both jumped, pulling apart.

“What was that?” you whispered, eyes wide.

Steve’s eyes were wide too as they bore into yours. “I don’t know,” he whispered back.

Bam!

“Ow!”

Something like instant recognition flashed behind Steve’s eyes. “Dustin?!” he shouted, climbing off of the bed.

Dustin groaned, crawling out from under the bed. As soon as half of his body was out, Steve grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him up. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“I was conducting naturalistic observation!” Dustin defended himself, throwing his hands up.

“What the fuck does that mean?!”

“You were spying on us?!” you shouted, getting off of the bed.

“I needed to know if you two were boyfriend and girlfriend!”

“Of course she’s my girlfriend!” Steve yelled, shoving Dustin back, making him stagger. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Both you and Steve thought it was painfully obvious to everyone around you that you two were together. You both did so many things that only a couple would. So, how could anyone not know?

You ran a hand down your face. “You didn’t think to just ask us?!”

Dustin blinked. “Oh…” he trailed off. “I guess I could’ve done that,” he mumbled.

You narrowed your eyes at the jacket on the dresser. “I knew I didn’t leave that there.”

Dustin’s eyes followed yours and he let out a loud sigh. “I told them not to touch anything,” he grumbled, shaking his head in disappointment.

Steve blinked, turning to Dustin with raised brows. “What was that?”

Dustin sucked his teeth, looking up at Steve sheepishly. “Would now be a good time to tell you that the rest of the party is here too?”

Your eyes widened in horror.

“Can we come out now?” you could make out the muffled voice of Mike coming from your closet.

“Yeah, it’s hot as hell in here!” Lucas exclaimed.

“I didn’t condone any of this, I’m sorry,” Max apologized.

“Me either!” Will added.

“Can we sleepover?” El asked.

You pulled your lips into a tight line, nostrils flaring slightly. “How did you guys get in here?”

“Oh,” Dustin chuckled. “I stole his spare key a while back,” he said, motioning to the guy he now could identify as your boyfriend with full confidence, no questions asked.

Steve shut his eyes and ran a hand down his face. “Just a bunch of bad ass little kids.”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

[bbgbelle]

steve begging you not to stop

a loud groan left steve’s lips as you bounce on his dick. he throws his head back into the pillows, gripping your hips tightly as you move up and down, moaning at the feeling of his cock deep inside of you. your pace is relentless, your tight pussy squeezing around him in a way that has steve seeing stars. his fingers dig deeper into the skin of your hips. “baby, please…” he whines out, and you slow the rolls of your hips for a moment. “no, don’t stop, please, i’m close. fuck, please don’t stop.” a smirk settles on your lips as you pick up the pace again, bouncing down on him harder and faster, his cock bruising your cervix and his eyes roll back into his head. “fuck, honey, please. ‘m so close, please. don’t stop, keep going. shit.” with a load moan, steve finishes inside of you, warm, sticky ropes of his cum filling you up. but you haven’t finished yet, and as you keep riding him, steve whimpers. a white ring of his cum and your juices forms at the base of his cock with each grind of your hips as you ride him. “baby…” steve looks up at you with wide eyes, holding back almost pained moans as you overstimulate his cock. “please.” his grip on your hips loosens, his fingers instead tangling in the bedsheets. “what?” you smile down at him innocently. “you asked me not to stop.” he whines at you and you lean down to kiss him. “just let me cum, okay, baby?” a whimper leaves his lips, but he nods, groaning the moment you pick up the pace again.

[jinxispunk]

omg i loved your diabetic reader x joe!! im diabetic and stumbled upon it and it lowkey made me feel less bad about my own diabetes weirdly? idk like i felt kinda seen! would u do more? maybe like helping change a dexcom or feeding her when her hands are so shaky during a low she can’t really do it herself

awh this one got me immediately

joe being all soft and careful during dexcom changes and helping reader through really shaky lows without making her feel embarrassed about it??? absolutely yes. you guys are genuinely making me so emotional with these diabetic!reader requests pahah

steady hands

Joe Keery x diabetic!reader

Summary: Joe learns every tiny part of reader’s diabetes management until caring for her becomes second nature, even during shaky midnight lows and painful dexcom changes.

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, minors DNI, no use of y/n, established relationship, type 1 diabetic reader, dexcom changes, hypoglycaemia, caretaking, hurt/comfort, domestic fluff (lmk if i missed anything)

W/C: 1.4k

Read more of my writing here: [masterlist]

The first time Joe helps change your dexcom, you almost cancel the whole thing halfway through.

Not because it hurts particularly badly.

It’s more the anticipation of it.

The weird mental block you get every single time despite having done this for years now.

You’re sitting cross-legged on the toilet seat in one of Joe’s old t-shirts while he kneels in front of you holding the new sensor applicator very carefully, like it’s somehow alive.

“You know you don’t need to look so terrified,” you mumble.

Joe glances up immediately. “I’m not terrified.”

“You look like you’re diffusing a bomb.”

“In my defence,” he says seriously, “there are a lot of instructions.”

You snort softly despite yourself.

The thing is, Joe didn’t start helping because you asked him to.

He just noticed eventually.

Noticed how long you procrastinated site changes. How you’d wander around the flat pretending to do other tasks first. How you always got weirdly quiet beforehand no matter how many times you’d done it before.

Joe notices everything eventually.

“You okay?” he asks softly now, eyes flicking up toward you again.

You shrug one shoulder weakly. “Yeah.”

That immediately tells him you’re lying.

Joe rests his hand gently against your knee.

“Honey.”

“I know it’s stupid.”

“Hey.” His eyebrows pull together slightly. “Don’t do that.”

You look away toward the sink instead.

“It’s just annoying,” you admit quietly. “I’m a grown adult and I still have to psych myself up for it every time.”

Joe’s expression softens instantly.

“You have a medical device getting attached to your body,” he says carefully. “I think you’re allowed to be a little weird about it.”

Something in your chest aches slightly at that.

Because he says it so simply.

No judgment. No confusion. No making you feel overdramatic.

Just understanding.

Joe reaches for the alcohol wipe again before gently cleaning the skin on your arm. His hands are warm and ridiculously careful, thumb brushing absentmindedly against your skin afterwards like he’s apologising in advance.

“Ready?” he asks.

You grimace immediately. “Absolutely not.”

Joe laughs quietly.

Then, softer, “You wanna hold my hand?”

Your eyes flick back toward him.

“You need both hands.”

“I’ll make it work.”

The sincerity of it almost kills you slightly.

You end up gripping onto his shoulder instead while Joe positions the applicator carefully against your arm.

“Okay,” he murmurs. “Deep breath.”

You bury your face dramatically against his hair.

Joe laughs softly against your shoulder before pressing the button.

Click.

You tense automatically.

Then blink.

“Oh.”

Joe’s already looking up at you worriedly. “You okay?”

“That was actually fine.”

His whole face brightens immediately like he personally achieved something.

“Told you.”

“Don’t get cocky.”

“Too late.”

You laugh softly while Joe carefully smooths the adhesive down around the edges with his thumb. His hands are warm against your skin, ridiculously gentle in a way that makes something ache quietly in your chest.

The thing about Joe is that he never treats your diabetes like a burden.

Not once.

Even when it interrupts plans. Even when it wakes him up at stupid hours of the morning. Even when he’s kneeling on the bathroom floor at midnight helping attach medical devices to your body because you got too in your own head to do it yourself.

“You good?” he asks again softly.

You nod. “Yeah.”

Joe studies your face for another second anyway.

Then, quieter, “Proud of you.”

Your eyebrows pull together immediately. “For changing my dexcom?”

“For doing all this constantly.”

And there it is.

That stupid ache again.

Because diabetes feels so normal to you most of the time that you forget how relentless it probably looks from the outside. The counting and calculating and alarms and injections and site changes and constant background awareness your brain never really gets a break from.

Joe notices all of it.

Not in a pitying way.

Just… attentively.

You lean forward automatically, arms sliding around his shoulders while he’s still kneeling in front of you.

“You’re very lovely sometimes,” you mumble into his hair.

Joe laughs softly against your shoulder. “Sometimes?”

“Don’t ruin the moment.”

Later that night, Joe kisses absentmindedly around the edges of the new dexcom while you’re lying in bed together.

Not the sensor itself obviously.

Just nearby.

Warm soft kisses against your skin while his hand slides lazily beneath your shirt.

“You’re very strange,” you mumble sleepily.

Joe hums against your shoulder. “You love me.”

He’s completely right.

The low hits two weeks later while you’re halfway through watching a film.

At first it’s subtle enough you barely register it.

The slight hollowness in your chest. Your hands feeling vaguely disconnected from the rest of you. The weird cold sweat beginning at the back of your neck.

Then your CGM alarm cuts through the sitting room.

Joe pauses the film immediately.

“You low?”

“Mhm.”

You already sound slightly out of it.

Joe’s expression softens instantly. “Okay, honey. Stay there.”

“I can get it.”

“I know.”

Still, he disappears into the kitchen anyway.

You try sitting up properly while he’s gone, but the shaking’s worse than you expected tonight. Annoyingly bad. By the time Joe comes back carrying orange juice and your favourite cereal bar, your hands are trembling hard enough you can barely pull the blanket properly around yourself.

Joe notices immediately.

“Oh, baby.”

“I’m okay,” you insist automatically.

Joe sits beside you on the sofa without arguing, one hand settling carefully against your knee.

“I know you are.”

Which somehow makes embarrassment bloom even harder beneath your ribs.

Because he’s being so gentle about it.

You hate lows like this. Hate how helpless they make you feel. Hate the weird disconnect between your brain and your body while simple tasks suddenly feel frustratingly difficult.

Joe unscrews the orange juice calmly before holding it out toward you.

You reach for it.

And nearly drop it immediately.

“Oh my god,” you mutter miserably.

Joe catches the bottle before it spills everywhere.

The shame hits fast and irrational and ugly.

“I hate this,” you whisper.

Joe goes still beside you.

Then, very quietly, “Hey.”

You look away toward the television instead.

Joe shifts closer immediately, his thigh pressing warm against yours beneath the blanket.

“Look at me a sec.”

Reluctantly, you do.

Joe’s expression is painfully soft.

“Honey,” he says gently, “you’re having a low. Your hands are shaky. That’s not embarrassing.”

You shrug helplessly anyway.

“It feels embarrassing.”

Joe’s face twists slightly at that.

Without another word, he lifts the bottle again and tilts it carefully toward your mouth instead.

The whole thing should probably feel humiliating.

Instead, somehow, it just feels tender.

Joe’s hand stays steady beneath the bottle while you drink, thumb rubbing absentminded circles against your knee the whole time like he’s trying to soothe you without making a big deal out of it.

“There you go,” he murmurs softly after a few mouthfuls. “Good girl.”

The praise hits embarrassingly hard in your current state.

Joe notices immediately, because of course he does.

A tiny smile pulls at the corner of his mouth.

“You alright there?”

“Shut up.”

Joe laughs quietly.

Then unwraps the cereal bar for you too before breaking little pieces off absentmindedly while you lean heavily against his shoulder.

You feel ridiculous.

And exhausted.

And weirdly emotional in the way lows always seem to make everything feel bigger.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble eventually.

Joe looks genuinely confused. “For what?”

“For being difficult.”

That lands badly.

You see it immediately in his face.

“Honey,” Joe says carefully, “you needing help for ten minutes does not make you difficult.”

You stare down at the blanket in your lap instead.

Joe’s hand slides gently beneath your chin then, turning your face back toward him.

“I mean it.”

Your throat tightens painfully.

Because he does mean it.

Every word.

Joe brushes his thumb softly beneath one of your eyes before leaning down to press a kiss against your forehead.

“You spend every day taking care of yourself,” he murmurs quietly. “Let me take care of you sometimes too.”

Well.

That almost fucking does you in emotionally.

You laugh weakly despite the sting suddenly building behind your eyes.

“Careful,” you mumble. “You’re getting dangerously sweet.”

Joe grins slightly before nudging the cereal bar back toward you.

“Eat the rest of that before I start charging for bedside service.”

You snort softly and lean harder into his side while he reaches for the remote again with his free hand.

The film starts playing quietly in the background.

Neither of you really watches it.

Joe just keeps absentmindedly brushing his fingers through your hair while your blood sugar slowly crawls back upward and your body starts feeling like yours again.

dividers: saradika-graphics