#im still not back into the swing of things enough to get back here

[stormyelliotwritez]

walk with me…

ftm reader who has been in love with logan for years but he thinks logan is straight and also logan like wont stop being in love with jean and is absolutely OBLIVIOUS that r likes him.. (literally all the other x men know) and honestly this can be like super angsty or just silly idc whatever the vibe u best think works

im gonna somehow go with mostly angst coz thats my fav so here goes

tw for gender dysphoria related to wanting to fit logan’s so called type

BUT HE’S STRAIGHT?

Logan was staring at Jean again. This was like the fifth time just this staff meeting. You weren’t sure how much longer you could take this. Maybe Charles would let you go lay down if you faked a fever but maybe he’d do the whole psychic thing and realize you were fine.

You sat through the rest of the meeting and then left quickly, feeling like a loser. It’s been years and he still hasn’t noticed you. He’s always staring at Jean who’s literally been in love with Scott since they met. Why won’t he stare at you? How the fuck is he straight? But alas, he is.

You walked to your room, tugging at your shirt and wishing it would fit better. Maybe he’d have noticed you if you weren’t a boy, if you’d stayed what you’d been born as. Maybe if you were still her, he’d think you were cute. Maybe he’d look at you how he looked at Jean.

You slammed your door shut and clambered onto your bed, curling up into a ball. You stayed there, just thinking, until eventually you fell asleep.

In the morning, you got up and after showering and getting dressed, you threw on the jacket you’d stolen from Logan a few months ago, the one with the school’s logo. Maybe he wouldn’t notice. It’s not like he ever noticed you.

You went about your day, bumping into Scott who made a faux growl sound like Logan’s to tease you and then bumping into Hank who sniffed your jacket and then applauded you on managing to steal from Logan. Later in the day, you ran head first into Storm, when you were trying to avoid Logan, and she glanced at him and then meowed at you teasingly. You’d swear on someone’s grave that the only person who didn’t know about your years old crush was the man himself, Logan.

You managed to avoid Logan all day until… dinner. He was sitting opposite the spot you always sat in. He was sitting there. Why was he sitting there was a question you couldn’t answer. You tugged at your jumper while holding your plate with one hand and you walked over to him.

“Logan,” you said with a nod.

“Bub,” he said back before looking you over.

He didn’t say anything about the jacket. He just sat there and ate his dinner and then stood up. He walked around to your side and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Nice jacket, bub.”

He then walked off, just like that.

What the fuck? What the actual fuck? He didn’t know though. He would know about your ridiculous crush if he was listening to your heartbeat right now. Oh my god, so he knew you’d stolen it but he couldn’t put the damn pieces together?

You finished your dinner and walked off. You were halfway to your room when someone grabbed your hand and pulled you into an empty classroom. The door was slammed and you were disoriented in the dark.

“You like me, bub?”

That was Logan’s voice. Wait, he knew? How? But…

“Come on, I ain’t got all day,” he said abruptly.

You nodded. You were quite sure he could see in the dark and the scoff he made seemed to say so. How could you have been so stupid? He was probably going to hate you now. He was straight. He’d always been straight and in love with Jean. He was oblivious. He’d always been oblivious. He could never like you. You weren’t a girl, no matter how hard you wanted to still be one so he’d like you. Your heart was racing and soon enough, you were hyperventilating.

His hands were on your shoulders and you were being pulled into a hug, a hug that smelt of wood and fuel. He was hugging you?

“It’s okay, I got you, bub,” he placed a light kiss on your forehead, “I swing both ways, you know.”

You’d always hated that he was still taller than you, one of the downsides of not getting on T until your 20’s and- wait, what? He swings both ways?

“You-you do?” You said once your breathing had slowed.

He nodded. You couldn’t see it but you could feel it. He could like you… as you, as a man? You didn’t have to be someone else? You could just be you.

“Yep, now let’s go. I think there’s two beers calling our names in the teacher’s lounge,” he said before opening the door and pulling you out of the classroom. “Jean mentioned your little crush and now I gotta hear all about how you’ve been pining for me for years.”

Curse you, Jean, but thanks, was all you could think as you just nodded and walked with him to the teachers lounge.

[ren-lui]

<?> I MADE MY ARKHAM ASYLUM PSYCHIATRIST FALL IN LOVE WITH ME (NOT CLICKBAIT)

[risingsunresistance]

[stevie-petey]

episode five: the flayed

Slowly Steve aims away, the sound trickling against another wall now, and you share a disgusted look with Robin. With a sigh, she squeezes your hand. “If we make it out of here alive, I promise I’ll throw you the best birthday party ever.” “I don’t know, I think Steve peeing five feet away from me will be pretty hard to beat.”

Summary: you have the worst birthday of your life, you almost strangle steve with your bare hands and then later get snot all over him, erica is your savior, dustin is doing his best, robin starts to suspect things, and the russians have opened a gate to the upside down. its all pretty miserable tbh. but hey ! at least steve won a fight !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, violence, cursing

Words: 7.2k

Before you swing in: hi loves !! chapter five we get some more insight into bug and her very anxious mind. shes just a stressed out gal. bless her. anyways, bug aside im so so so excited to get to chapter 6. i have so many plans for her <3 but !!! for now pls enjoy chapter 5 and more chaotic steve n bug ;)

-

Everyone is screaming as you all fall. 

You lost your stomach about a hundred feet ago. 

Steve clings onto you, his chest sturdy behind you as your arms tighten around the kids. Their screams are deafening; you know that you’re screaming too, but the pounding in your head rings in your ears and drowns out their fear.

“We’re going down!” Steve screeches, arms now even tighter around you as he braces his back against the wall.

“No shit Harrington!” Robin is on the opposite wall.

Your nails dig into Steve’s arms, both from panic and from anger. “I fucking told you!”

As you scream at the teen, Erica and Dustin pry apart from you and run over to the vault’s buttons. They begin to argue, the rush of the room’s falling almost makes it hard to hear what they’re saying, but you know they’re freaking out just like everyone else. 

“Push the button!” You hear Erica yell at your brother, and he turns to her with pure melodrama to screech back at her, “What do you think I’m doing?”

Steve pulls you further into his chest as he screams at the kids. “Press something! Just press the button!” 

It’s a mess, the room fills with more screaming as everyone argues and pushes against one another in futile attempts to prevent the vault from plummeting even further. Your nails dig further into Steve’s arms and you close your eyes, too numb with fear to do anything else. 

Then, suddenly, everything stops. 

The room comes to a halt, you’re no longer plummeting to imminent death, and everyone crashes against the wall or ground while a giant box lands on you and Steve. 

He takes the brunt of the damage, the box having fallen from behind him, but the impact is enough to send you crashing to the ground with your elbow catching against the side of the shelf the box had come from. Groaning, your knee shoves into Steve’s body, causing him to wheeze in pain. “My groin, you’re on my groin.”

You ignore him and get up, not offering your hand to him, and make sure Dustin and everyone else is okay. Seeing your stoic manner, Steve groans. “A little help here, anyone?”

Again you ignore him and make your way further into the room and stand there, slowly coming to the realization of what’s happened. Your limbs feel heavy, your head is pounding, and you’re locked in an apparent elevator made by Russians after falling hundreds of feet below Starcourt. 

“Is everyone okay?” Robin hesitantly asks after Dustin has helped Steve up from the ground. 

“Fine,” you rasp out, body still in shock. 

Steve’s body is in its own state of shock as he starts to freak out yet again. “Yeah, I’m great, now that I know that Russians can’t design elevators!”

He shoves past Dustin and starts to jab at the buttons once more, but it’s no use. Robin tries to stop him, but Steve continues to press the buttons repeatedly anyways. He’s frantic, his eyes wide an wild with fear, and you stand in the corner as watch as he starts to realize himself just how fucked the five of you are in the current situation. 

After days of ignoring the possible danger, it’s now glaring in his face, and Steve becomes even more frantic when he notices that you’re still standing behind everyone, silent. 

He’s fucked up. 

“It’s an electronic lock.” Robin starts to explain, and you listen silently. “Same as the loading dock door. If we don’t have a keycard, it won’t operate, meaning–”

“We’re stuck in here.” Dustin announces, already having figured it out himself. 

The pounding in your head intensifies at your brother’s words as fear claws its way into your throat. You’ve spent the last two days pleading with everyone to listen to you, to be cautious and not go in over your heads about the Russians, and yet here you are: locked in a fucking elevator with Steve looking at you with utter guilt. 

You had been right the entire time. 

And yet no one bothered to believe you. 

As Erica announces to the group that if she isn’t back by uncle Jack’s party tomorrow then her mom will ransack the town to find her and Steve yells at her about how he doesn’t care about the party if you all end up dead in the Russian elevator, a defeated and deranged laugh begins to swell from your chest before it forms into complete hysterics. 

The laughs fall from your mouth in a frantic manner, and everyone slowly turns to look at you. Erica doesn’t understand what’s going on, though Steve, Dustin, and Robin share horrified looks; they all know that you’ve officially crossed the line that separates anger from insanity.

“Dead in a Russian elevator, huh?” You manage to bitterly spit out in between bouts of laughter. There are tears in your eyes, though no one is sure if they’re from laughing or anger or despair. “God, Harrington, you really fucked up.”

You’re practically wheezing now from laughing so hard, hunched over as the action takes over your entire body. You had been right, and yet you’re now stuck in an elevator with Lucas’ little sister and your own brother, responsible for their lives even though you’ve never asked to be. Ever. 

Steve tugs at his hair, just as overwhelmed as you are. He’s terrified of what he’s dragged you into, and he’s even more terrified that he was the asshole who refused to listen to you. Defensive, he throws his hands up in the air in defeat. “Why would you even listen to me? I mean, I’ve never been right a day in my life!”

“Oh, so this is all my fault?” Your body manages to move towards him, now standing toe to toe as you sneer in his face.

The laughter is now gone. 

“You’re the one who let me continue this stupid Russian adventure–”

“I begged you to listen to me, but you refused to!”

Steve lets out his own deranged laugh. “How was I supposed to know we’d end up in a goddamn elevator of death?”

“God, how hard is it for you to admit that I was right?” Your fists shake as they clench against your side, your voice is raw from screaming. “Would it fucking kill you to admit that maybe I’m not just some pathetic people pleaser and that I actually know what I’m talking about–”

“Guys!” Dustin shoves the two of you apart, afraid that you’ll tear Steve’s eyes out any second. He points up, gathering everyone’s attention again, and reveals an opening in the elevator’s ceiling. “What if we climbed out?”

Hope sparks in your chest when you see the opening and you’re the first to shove past Steve and the others and start climbing up the boxes to get to it. Dustin follows, then Steve, and when the three of you climb up and out of the elevator, the small spark of hope in your chest quickly vanishes when you look up and see the hundreds of feet the elevator has fallen. 

“What were you saying about climbing?” Steve’s voice echoes off of the walls surrounding the elevator. They’re smooth, pure metal and infrastructure, and you swallow down tears. 

There’s no way any of you can possibly climb up them. You’re stuck. 

Admittedly, Dustin handles this realization a lot better than you do. He immediately starts to come up with another plan, he has his radio, he can call for help, and as he comes up with new ways to reignite the hope with Steve, you wordlessly descend back down into the elevator. You don’t spare the two boys another glance as you leave, too emotionally exhausted and still shaking from the waves of guilt and anxiety that plague you. 

After you’ve silently left, Dustin turns to Steve. He feels just as awful as the teen, they both failed to listen to you, and now they’re left with your stoic anger that leaves them both feeling raw. “We fucked up, man.”

“She needs us right now,” Steve claps his hand against the boy’s back, his words strong but voice frail. “Let’s go.”

They climb back down into the elevator as well and find you, Robin, and Erica all sitting against the walls, silent. You must’ve already told the girls what the three of you found above. There’s nothing you guys can do now besides wait for whatever comes next, even Dustin can recognize that.

Your knees are drawn into your chest, your chin rests against them as you sit alone at one wall, and Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so small before. Sighing, he looks at Dustin, who gives him a nod to wish him luck, before he makes his way over to you and sits down. You don’t react to Steve’s presence besides allowing your head to fall against his shoulder, and it’s enough to calm the relentless remorse he feels within him. 

No one speaks for a while.

The hours pass, the room silent as you all realize what the fuck you’ve gotten yourselves into. 

– 

You’re not sure how much time passes by, the walls within the elevator block out all possible sunlight, but eventually you figure it’s well into the night. After the initial shock had worn off, Dustin, Robin, and Erica had sat closer together and tried distracting themselves with sleep while you sat against the wall with Steve; your head never leaves his shoulder, and neither of you talk.

However, by what you figure is hour five, you desperately need air. You can’t sleep, the walls have started to close in around you once more, so you stand up, side step your sleeping brother, and climb up to the top of the elevator once more. 

Steve follows you; he always follows. 

He finds you sitting at the edge of the elevator, feet dangling over the ledge with your shoulders drawn in. Slowly he approaches you and sits down next to you, shoulder to shoulder, thigh pressed against thigh. You don’t say anything, and Steve again feels horrible for not listening to you earlier; he knows that for once it has to be him that is strong enough for the two of you.

“Talk to me,” Steve breathes out, pleading. It’s just you and him now, one one else, away from prying eyes. You’re safe with him, you will always be safe with him, but he needs to hear your voice and bring color back to your cheeks. “Please.”

Hearing the desperation in his voice, knowing that Steve has never once meant you any harm, that he’s just as scared and alone as you are, you finally break.

You throw yourself into Steve’s arms and sob. The tears come all at once, there is no build up. The moment you are in his embrace, the moment your ear presses against his chest and you hear his heartbeat, the tears come.

“I hate that I always end up here,” you cry into his chest, all that you’ve swallowed down now comes spiraling out of you. “I’m just–I’m so fucking frustrated. I–I keep doing this to Dustin, he’s always in danger because of me.”

Your voice hitches as your breath stutters. There’s more that you want to say, the guilt that has haunted you since Will biked home that fateful night swells within you, but your tears prevent you from voicing any of it. “I–I’m supposed to keep everyone safe but–God, it’s hard when no one listens to me. No one ever listens to me.”

You were supposed to listen to me.

Though you don’t say it, Steve hears it anyway. 

He’s silent through it all, frightened and aching, knowing you keep so much within you. Steve has never seen you cry before, he’s never seen you break like this, and he despises himself for being the reason why. 

Another miserable sob escapes you and all Steve can do is pull you in closer, furious at the world for the fact that he cannot fit you into his chest where he can keep you safe behind his ribcage, next to his heart.

You cling onto Steve and allow the last few years you’ve carried on your shoulders to finally crush you. “I just feel so useless–how can I…” you sniffle, try to steady your breathing as the words on your tongue terrify you. “How–how can I love if I can’t–I have to protect everyone.”

Your voice breaks once more and Steve allows you to take all the time you need. He continues to hold you through it, he presses soft kisses to your face, lips wet from your tears, he plays with your hair, he does whatever he can to engrave his apology into your body.

“I’m so stupid,” you pull away now, the tears slowing and embarrassment creeping through. You’re overwhelmed with your debilitating need to protect the ones you love, as if you cannot love someone if you cannot save them, and you know it’s stupid and immature to believe such things. As the exhaustion sinks into your body, you realize with a start what day has creeped upon you while in the elevator.

It’s July third. 

With Steve looking down at you with a sinful guilt in his eyes, you wipe your own eyes and laugh pathetically at your realization. “This entire situation is stupid. It’s my seventeenth birthday and I’m stuck in a fucking death elevator.”

Steve’s arms tighten around you and he draws in a quick breath at your words. It’s your birthday. He had thought he couldn’t feel worse about what he dragged you into, but he had been wrong. You should be in your room right now, tucked away from danger, celebrating the first moments of your birthday with Steve crawling through your window with the gift he worked so hard to convince the party to help with. 

Instead, you’re crying in Steve’s arms with imminent death looming over you because of him, and he thinks he’s never felt tears as heavy as yours. 

“I’m sorry,” he gently lifts your chin with the same finger that has caressed your face a million times. The soft gesture makes you weak, and when your eyes meet Steve’s, he brings his lips down upon your forehead. He lingers, his lips are rough but familiar, and there’s more he wants to say. The words build within him, all the apologies, but he knows they’d fall on deaf ears. You’re exhausted, you’ve revealed more to him tonight than you ever have before, and he knows the vulnerability stabs at you viciously,

Instead, Steve kisses your cheek next, then your other cheek, then the tip of your nose, your chin, your eyebrows, anywhere his lips can reach, and the action causes a small giggle to blossom within you. Hearing the sound he loves so much, Steve smiles. “Happy birthday, angel.”

Your hand comes up to his face, and though a part of you warms at what Steve has said, another part of you aches. Jonathan has always been the first person to wish you a happy birthday, a tradition from when you were kids and snuck into each other’s windows the second the clock struck midnight. Now Jonathan is gone and Nancy is angry and you’re tired of it all. With a bittersweet smile, you cup Steve’s cheek in the palm of your hand. “Thank you, honey.”

The world stills between the two of you for a brief moment, his face in your hand and your heart in his arms. It’s reminiscent of earlier in the breakroom, the uncertainty that drapes over you and Steve while the certainty secures you both to each other. 

It isn’t perfect, Steve’s uncertainty has hurt you, but he holds you with a certainty that makes you believe that somehow the two of you will make it out of this alive, together. He nuzzles his face into your palm as if he physically needs to be closer to you, and it settles something that stirs in your chest.

Exhaling, you rest your head in the crook of Steve’s neck and curl into him. He pulls you in closer, as he’s always done, and eventually you fall asleep, exhausted from everything.

Steve isn’t sure how long you sleep in his arms, his muscles ache from holding you, but he accepts the burn as punishment for the hurt he’s caused you. He sits there, staring at the metal walls, and falls asleep himself.

– 

You wake up to Dustin trying to contact someone on his radio. His annoyingly loud voice causes you to groan in annoyance, you’re warm, comfortable, and had been dreaming about something that left your chest feeling light. 

“Code red, I repeat, code red. Does anyone copy?”

Rolling over, a pair of arms hold you near a sturdy body, and you remember now that you fell asleep in Steve’s arms. Burying your face deeper into his chest, you groan again. “Make him shut up.”

“Good morning to you too, Y/N.” Dustin kicks your sneaker before going back to his radio. “This is a code red, I repeat, a code red. Does anyone copy?”

Steve sighs, sounding just as tired as you feel. “The kid has been at this for the last hour or so. Woke me up, too.”

You hear Dustin’s footsteps as he paces. “We are innocent children and we are trapped under Starcourt Mall. The Red Army has infiltrated Hawkins.”

“‘The Red Army’ is dramatic.” You mumble, still mourning that you’ve been woken up.

Dustin ignores you. “If we are found, they will torture and kill us.”

“How peachy.”

Steve snaps his fingers at your brother, motioning for him to shut up. “Hey, you gotta take it easy on that thing. Gonna drain the battery.”

“That’s what we’re worried about right now?”

“Go back to sleep, Y/N.” Dustin kicks your sneaker again with a scoff. “The mall just opened, so someone could be in range.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “What, you think Petey the Mall Cop is gonna rappel down here and save the day?”

You give a thumbs up to what the teen has just said. “‘Rappel’, good word choice there.”

“Alright, why are you two such cranky pants after getting to spend the night together?” Dustin asks, off put by your snarkiness. He knows you’ve never really been a morning person, but your face is still buried in Steve’s chest and you haven’t looked at Dustin since waking up. 

“Shut up, Dustin.” You and Steve say at the same time, both too drained to entertain his usual teasing.

Your brother sighs and changes the subject. “I heard you guys talking all night, did you at least figure out a way out of here?” 

You shift in Steve’s arms, now uncomfortable. Neither of you had talked about what to do next, for once you had been selfish and put yourself first, allowing yourself to cry. Sensing the brewing guilt, Steve covers for you both. “No, we’re still exactly nowhere, which is, ya know, probably just a little bit of the reason why we’re feeling just a tad cranky.”

“What he said,” you hide a smile in Steve’s chest, but he feels it anyways.

Then, because he’s Steve and is physically incapable of allowing you a moment of peace, he taps your shoulder. “Hey, uh. Not to ruin this, but can you get up so I can pee?” 

“Here?” You and Dustin exclaim in unison, both of you equally disgusted. 

“Well where else am I supposed to go?”

“Ugh,” you wrinkle your nose and get up, hating that Steve has a point. However, rather than stay and watch the guy pee, you decide to leave and check up on Erica and Robin. You’ve been up here long enough, anyways. “Keep your body fluids away from me.”

As you climb down, you hear Steve screaming at Dustin to turn away as your brother wishes you a happy birthday. 

They’re such idiots sometimes. 

“Did I just hear Dustin screech about someone’s birthday?” Robin asks you as you jump down the last box and join her side. She’s in front of the elevator’s panel, inspecting the buttons.

You wince, not liking the reminder of what today is. “It’s… my birthday.”

Robin gasps and grabs at your hand. “Is it actually? Oh my God–” She’s cut off by the sound of liquid splattering against a wall, and with horror the two of you realize that it’s Steve’s piss. Making a face, the girl calls out, “Can you redirect your stream, please?”

Slowly Steve aims away, the sound trickling against another wall now, and you share a disgusted look with Robin. With a sigh, she squeezes your hand. “If we make it out of here alive, I promise I’ll throw you the best birthday party ever.”

“I don’t know, I think Steve peeing five feet away from me will be pretty hard to beat.”

Robin laughs and you feel okay for a moment, enjoying the small respite, before the sound of glass banging against metal catches your attention. Turning around, you find Erica slamming one of the vials of liquid against the bars, and immediately you and Robin run to stop her. 

“Hey, be careful!” Robin snatches the cylinder from the girl and tosses it to you for safekeeping. “We don’t even know what that is.”

“Exactly, it could be useful.” Erica argues. 

You hold the vial up high so that she can’t reach; you know the Sinclairs, they’re speedy little devils. “Please elaborate.”

“We can survive down here a long time without food,” Erica jumps and tries to grab what you’ve taken, but you only hold the liquid further out of her reach. “But if the human body doesn’t get water, it will die.”

You’re momentarily impressed by the girl’s survival knowledge, but Robin is undeterred. “I hate to break it to you, but this is not water.”

“No, but it’s a liquid, and if it comes down to me drinking that shit or dying of thirst, I drink.”

“You are fascinating,” you breathe out, both terrified and in awe. As you stare at Erica in wonder, Robin seems to hear something and leaves your side to press her ear against the opposite wall. Frowning, you join her. “What is it?”

“Listen.”

You do as you’re told and press your own ear against the wall, and it only takes you a second to hear it too. Mechanical whirling, the same sound that you heard last night before all the walls in the elevator came crashing down and trapped you. “Shit.”

Robin nods grimly. “You get Erica while I warn the boys.”

Within a minute you’ve helped Erica climb the top of the elevator as you all hide up there. No sooner than when you’ve closed the roof’s opening, one side of the metal wall begins to open and the footsteps of men can be heard. 

Through the grates, you and Steve hunch over as you watch two men walk into the elevator. They’re big, dressed in a bizarre uniform, and one of them is smoking. They talk about something, their words are terse, and for a moment you worry they’ve figured out that you’re hidden above, but eventually they grab a few boxes and make their way outside. 

As the men move back and forth below you, grabbing more and more boxes, you look up at Steve and find him staring at the green liquid you still have in your hands. During the frantic rush to get Erica to safety, you had forgotten to set the chemicals down. His eyes narrow slightly, as if asking you if you’re thinking what he is, and distantly you remember how much force the cylinder seemed to be able to withstand when Erica was slamming it.

If you truly are on the same page as Steve, then it’s a fucking risky plan, but it’s the only chance you have. 

You hand the vial to him and nod, silently urging him to be safe. Then, you turn to the others and risk whispering what you and Steve have thought of. He keeps watch, hand on the small of your back to indicate to you when to stop talking, and soon the plan is formed. 

The moment the Russian men have left the elevator, Steve quickly jumps down from the roof and slides the chemicals underneath the rapidly closing door. You watch nervously, and when the cylinder miraculously holds up against the metal door, you exhale in relief. Steve waves for you and everyone else to jump down as well. “Let’s go!”

You jump down first and slide Erica’s backpack over to Steve before helping her down. Once she successfully slides under the door, you help Dustin down next. The glass starts to splinter under the pressure, the sound of it creaking fills you with dread, but you push the fear down and help Robin next. “Go, go, go!”

When it’s your turn, you hold your breath and will yourself to slide underneath the door to join the others. As you go under, you see the glass start to splinter even more, and you quickly roll onto your stomach and frantically wave at Steve. “Steve, you need to hurry!”

He scrambles underneath the door and only just manages to narrowly escape as the door comes slamming down. Steve instinctively covers you with his body as the glass from the vial shatters, and when you look up and see the green liquid now sizzling as it burns through the concrete floor, you shudder. “You guys see that too, right?”

“Jesus Christ.” Steve stands up and offers you his hand as he inspects the liquid’s damage.

Erica, Robin, and Dustin step forward now too, and the five of you peer over the liquid as it oozes and bubbles, melting everything it touches. You shudder again, you can’t believe that there were boxes full of it surrounding you earlier. 

“You still wanna drink that?” Robin turns Erica, smirking. 

“You guys think it’d be like drinking lava?” You ask the group, and everyone shakes their heads at you. Adrenaline is still coursing through you, your head feels woozy from lack of sleep and water, and you think you’re slowly losing your mind. 

Meanwhile Dustin turns away from you, and when he sees what surrounds you all, his heart drops. “Holy mother of God.”

Turning around, your heart drops as well. There’s a giant hallway that faces you, blue lights illuminating it, and it stretches deep into the abyss. You realize, now, that the elevator had been only the beginning. As you stare down the endless hallway, its length reminiscent of the tunnels you almost died in last year, it hits you that you’ve truly stumbled upon something horrible. 

The Russians have been here a long, long time if they were able to build such a vast and complex underground facility. 

And now you’re trapped within it, with nothing but your knives to keep you and everyone else safe. 

“Well, hope you guys are in good shape.” Steve’s voice breaks you from your thoughts. He pats Dustin’s shoulder and starts to lead the way. “Looking at you, roast beef.”

Unamused with the insult directed at your brother and still angry at the teen for dragging you into this mess in the first place, you trip Steve. He stumbles and only just barely manages to catch himself, which everyone snickers at and Dustin high fives you.

With a sigh, Steve grabs your hand and beckons for everyone to follow. “Let’s go, guys.”

– 

It’s a goddamn long walk. 

You’re miserable. 

It’s hot, you’re covered in sweat and grime, you're starving, and this is officially the worst birthday ever. Sure, you’ve never really liked your birthday, but holy fuck you didn’t think it’d be this bad. 

You’re snappier than usual with everyone, which a part of you feels guilty for. Robin tried making conversation in the beginning, but you only responded with curt, one word answers. It truly isn’t her fault, none of this is anyone’s fault, but the anger that simmers within you threatens to boil over and you’re too tired to control it. 

Yet Steve keeps your hand within his and walks by your side, unaffected by your unusual anger. He lets you remain quiet, he doesn’t take offense to your terse responses, and he smiles apologetically at Robin for you because he knows you’d do the same if you were able to; he’s there for you. 

Steve knows how much anger resides within you, and he helps you brave it. 

You love him endlessly for it. 

“You think they built this whole mall so they could transport that green poison?” Steve asks the group as they speculate about why the Russians even built this underground system in the first place. 

“I very seriously doubt it’s something as boring as poison.” Dustin responds, and you scoff at him. 

“Yeah, because poison is boring.”

He looks at you warily and decides not to risk further exasperation. “What I mean is, it’s gotta be much more valuable, like promethium or something.”

“What the hell is promethium?” Steve looks to you, but you only shake your head. Dustin’s the science whiz, not you.

Instead Robin answers him, though her response about some guy named Victor Stone and a cyborg only confuses both you and Steve more. 

“You’re all so nerdy, it makes me physically ill.” Erica cringes with disgust, and her theatrics are hard to resist smiling at. 

“No, no.” Steve interjects. “No, don’t lump me in with them. I’m not a nerd, alright?” 

“Why so sensitive, Harrington?” Robin asks him, smiling at his offense. “Afraid of losing cool points to a ten year old child?”

“He takes his cool points very seriously, Robin.” You now speak up, a slight smile on your face. You’ll never pass up an opportunity to tease Steve. Nudging him with your shoulder, you laugh softly and glance up at him. “Admit it, you’re a nerd.”

If it were anyone else saying this, Steve would adamantly refuse such a notion, but it’s you and you’re finally smiling at him again, so instead he huffs with amusement. “Yeah, alright. Maybe I am, but I still don’t know jack shit about Prometheus.” 

“Promethium,” Dustin corrects. “Prometheus is a Greek mythological figure, but whatever. All I’m saying is, it’s probably being used to make something.” 

“Or power something?” In their eerie fashion, Robin and your brother now seem to once again be on the same page. 

“Like a nuclear weapon?”

“Totally.”

You rub the temples of your head and sigh, your previously brightened mood quickly dims again. “Cool. Nuclear weapons are cool.” 

Robin mumbles a quick sorry to you, she wishes she could change the topic, but there’s a question that’s been on her mind ever since you discovered the Russians. “But if they’re building something, why here? I mean, Hawkins. Seriously, of all places.”

As Robin continues to drone on about how bizarre of a choice Hawkins is, you, Steve, and Dustin all slow down and let her and Erica walk ahead. They don’t notice your guys’ sudden change of pace, and the three of you slowly come together; you know you’re all thinking the same thing. 

The question has been on your mind for a while, too. 

“You think the Russians know?” Dustin finally asks in a lowered voice.

Steve leans forward, his own voice lowered as well. “About–”

“They could.”

“So it’s all connected?”

While the boys whisper to one another, you feel a shiver run through you. Again you remember the sweat that had been on Billy’s brow and how pale he had been. You remember Will’s fearfulness at Weathertop hill, how he had clutched the back of his neck. You remember Mrs. Waters, Jonathan and Nancy, Mrs. Driscoll.

Something isn’t right, and now there’s Russians in Hawkins with a giant maze of high architectural design. 

“It has to be.” You say now. “There’s too much to ignore. “

Dustin frowns at you. “What do you mean? Is there something else?”

“The Upside Down, I think there’s something wrong–”

You’re interrupted by Robin. “I’m sorry, is there something you’d like to share with the class?”

The three of you turn to her, wide eyed and caught, and before you can come up with some excuse to get her off your backs’, Dustin’s radio comes to life as a Russian man’s voice speaks through it. 

“Walkie,” you, Steve, and Dustin say at the same time, running towards where it resides in Erica’s backpack. 

The Russian continues to drone through the walkie’s speakers as Dustin takes it out and Robin extends its antenna. She brings it close to her ear and listens intently, and after a few seconds she starts to speak the language as well, echoing what the man is saying. “It’s the code,” she finally says. 

“Wherever that broadcast is coming from–”

“It’s close.” Robin finishes your brother’s sentence. “And if there’s one thing we know about that signal…”

Dustin’s eyes light up. “It can reach the surface.” 

“We’ll be able to call for help,” you breathe out, hopeful yet reluctant. It’s your only way out, but you also have no idea what lies within these walls. 

“Let’s go!” Robin quickly stands up, plan already formed in her head, and all you can do is follow. 

It doesn’t take long to figure out where the broadcast is coming from. Within a few minutes of walking, the walls begin to narrow and you hear more and more voices up ahead. You can sense that you’re drawing closer to the main area of the underground complex, and the closer you get, the tighter you clutch at your knives. 

You and Steve work together on guiding everyone. He scouts for places to hide while you keep an eye out for any danger. Slowly, the six of you dodge and weave in and out from corners, avoiding Russians. In an odd sense, the routine is familiar and comforting; you and Steve have done this a million times before, the two of you know how to keep the other safe.

As Steve peers over a corner with the rest of you hiding behind him, Robin whispers into your ear. “How are the two of you so good at navigating scary dangerous situations?”

Her question is innocent enough, but you can sense that she’s piecing things together bit by bit. You try to keep your face neutral, not give anything away, and shrug at her. “We make a good team, I guess.” 

Robin gags at this, which you’re thankful for. At least your response got her mind off of things. 

Steve motions for everyone to follow after him once the coast is clear after a few guards have walked past. “Clear, come on, let’s go.”

He moves swiftly as you stay behind and make sure the rest of the group follows. Robin looks nervously at you, feeling vulnerable out in the open. “Okay, that was close.”

“Too close.” Dustin breathes out as he follows her, which you roll your eyes at. You and Steve are doing the best that you can, given the circumstances. If your brother wanted to worry about safety, he should’ve considered it twenty hours ago. 

“Relax,” Steve reassures everyone. “Nobody saw…” His voice trails off as he rounds the corner.

Your jaw drops. It’s worse than you could’ve ever imagined.

In front of you is what you can only imagine is the main hub of the complex. There’s Russians everywhere, some dressed in guard uniforms carrying shotguns, some dressed in lab coats, and others look like glorified red astronauts. 

You’re hopelessly outnumbered, there’s too many of them.

Steve curses and ducks down, pulling everyone with him as he hides behind a cart against the wall. You try to steady your breathing, you grip the back of Dustin’s shirt tightly in your hand. He looks at you in shock. “Red Dawn.”

“Not now,” you close your eyes and breathe in through your nose and exhale out your mouth. “I’m trying really hard not to lose yesterday’s lunch.”

“I saw it. First floor, northwest.” Erica urgently whispers to Steve.

“Saw what?”

“The comms room.”

You whip your head around to face the girl, making your nausea even worse, and Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You saw the comms room?”

“Correct!” Erica leans closer now, the insistence in her voice unwavering. 

Dustin frowns. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” this is the most sincere you’ve ever seen Erica. “The door was open for a second, and I saw a bunch of lights and machines and shit in there.” 

“That could be a hundred different things.” Dustin says, skeptical.

However, you believe Erica. She’s incredibly pragmatic, she wouldn’t blindly say something that she didn’t believe in. She’s a Sinclair, their morals define them, and Erica’s rant about capitalism and a free market system yesterday only solidifies your theory that she hides away most of her intelligence. “If Erica thinks she saw the comms room, then I believe her.”

She smiles at you gratefully, and Robin nods her head at the two of you. “If Y/N is on board, then I’ll take those odds.” 

Steve stares at you, studies your face and your demeanor, and when he sees the set clench of your jaw and the determination in your eyes, he knows he trusts whatever call you make. He pokes his head out from behind the cart, the five of you mimic him, and even though you’re firm in your stance to follow Erica’s gut, it still strikes terror within you when you see once again how many guards there are.

Sighing tiredly, Steve faces the group. “We’re gonna move fast, we’re gonna stay low. Okay?”

You nod at him. “Good luck.”

Steve smiles at you, nerves now calmed, and starts to guide everyone. He masterfully weaves in and out corners, ducks behind carts when someone walks past, and for a brief moment you’re in awe of him. He’s grown so much since that night at Jonathan’s, when he had run away the second things got too intense, and now he’s the one leading. 

When he opens the door to the comms room, you’re almost overwhelmed with how proud you are of Steve. Then, naturally, as soon as everyone is inside, you turn around and come face to face with a very confused Russian guard. 

And Steve has locked you in a room with him.

Everyone freezes, unsure what to do.

“Nice, Steve.” You sneer at him. 

He looks at you incredulously. “Is now really the time?”

As you mock Steve, the Russian guard starts to reach for the gun at his side. Seeing this, you whip your knives out and display them to the man, the blades glint in the room’s red light. He narrows his eyes at you and tightens his grip on his own weapon, and for a moment you fear that you really will have to use your switchblade. 

However, Robin is quick on her feet and puts her hand up to lower your knives. She starts speaking Russian in hopes of calming the guard down, and it seems to work at first, but when the guard starts speaking back to her, Robin’s plan quickly crumbles; it’s painfully obvious that she doesn’t speak the language. 

The guard reaches for his gun once more, and before you can use your knives, Steve lets out a loud yell and throws himself at the guy, taking him by surprise. 

“Steve!” You find yourself screaming, it’s instinctual. 

For a moment all you can do is stand there and watch, stunned. The two men begin to fight, fists hitting skin as they shove one another, and you have just enough awareness to keep your knives raised in case you need to step in and help. You know Steve’s track record, yet as the fight progresses, you become less and less fearful for him. He’s holding his own surprisingly well.

Steve jabs his elbow into the guard’s stomach before grabbing a nearby intercom phone and slams it into the guy’s head. He falls, hard, onto the electric panel and hits the side of his head against it even harder. 

The moment he lands on the ground, the Russian guard is out cold. 

Panting, Steve stands over him and fixes his hair. You and Dustin exchange surprised looks, both of you ecstatic; Steve won.

“Dude!” Dustin exclaims with glee in his voice. “You won a fight!”

“It’s a miracle,” you breathe out in awe, now at Steve’s side as you check for any injuries. He preens at your attention, his eyes glow, and you can’t help but kiss his check. “Good job, honey.”

“Okay, okay, break it up.” Dustin shoves you away from Steve and then crouches next to the guard’s body, unhooking the keys from his belt loop. You roll your eyes at him while Erica questions what he’s doing. Over his shoulder, he responds, “Getting us our ticket out of here.”

Erica scoffs. “You want to walk all the way back?” 

“Well, we can hang out for a little bit, relax, have a picnic maybe.”

“Have a picnic? We came here for the radio.”

The kids start to argue, but you don’t intervene. Instead, you fix Steve’s hair with your fingers and gently grab his face, moving it around to make sure he isn’t hurt. His skin is still smooth, untouched. “No bruises this time.”

He winks. “Gotta keep this face pretty for you, don’t I?”

“Yeah you do,” you pinch his cheek, laughing softly. “It’s your only redeeming quality.”

“Hey now–”

Robin suddenly appears, looking panicked. You quickly let go of Steve’s face and walk towards her, now noticing the staircase that she’s just come from. There’s blue light at the top, there’s an energy to it that makes you uneasy, yet it’s familiar. 

“What is it?” You ask her, fearing that you already know. 

“There’s something up there.”

You follow her up the stairs, and your heart drops at what you see. Steve sucks in a breath, his hand on your back. 

There’s a room at the top of the stairs, similar to the one below, and there are several men sitting at control panels. Before them is a giant machine, its circular panel spins as it shoots a beam of light into what you can only describe as an open wound within the wall. It’s narrow, long in length, as orange light spills from it. 

When Steve’s eyes meet yours, you both know. 

It’s the gate. 

The Russians have found the gate into the Upside Down.

Anger courses through you, and this anger is a familiar one. It’s the same anger you felt the day Will went missing, when El sacrificed her life to save everyone, when the men at Hawkins Lab continuously got away with ruining the lives of everyone you love. 

After everything you, the kids, and everyone else went through to close the gate, it enrages you to see these fucking idiots trying to reopen it. You had almost died last year trying to end this bullshit, but now you see it had been for nothing.

The side of your ribcage burns, the scar reignited by your fury, and Steve feels your body tense against his. His eyes meet yours again, and without saying anything, you know he understands. 

Nodding, the two of you are in agreement.

You have to stop this.

-

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[itz-mfkn-de]

\\ALWAYS YOU//. M.R

warnings— OOC MATTHEO, Im a sucker for toxic boys but I made him extra sweet in his one idk why, uhhh not many tbh, cussing, kissing, smoking, that’s all I think.

summary— Mattheo was your best friend, always had been, but was the title of ‘friend’ enough?

-my first work for Mattheo! I will eventually get a master list going once I get more comfertable posting on here. This is a repost of one of my works on wattpad, just with some tweaks bc that work was olldddd-

You sat against mattheos 𝐛𝐞𝐝, 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 out of his dorm window.

"You know, some times, I'm worried for you. You just stare at things, it's weird." He snickered  as he took a drag from his cigarette.

You looked at him and scoffed, "Sometimes I'm worried about your lungs, you're bound to get some type of problem with all that's smoking you do." You half-joked, glancing at him.

He rolled his eyes, tilting his head up and blew the smoke out of his mouth.

"Seriously Mattheo, that stuff is absolute horse-shit for your body." You stated, accompanying your words with a sharp glare.

"I don't do it that often, just when I'm stressed." He muttered, taking his feet off of his desk and turning his body to face you.

"What happened to the whole 'I don't give a fuck about anything or anybody but myself' thing?" You said, mocking him to the best of your abilities.

"First of all I don't fucking sound like that," he laughed and squinted at you "second, just stressed about life, nothing in particular." 

You softly chuckled at his reaction. His eyes broke from yours, looking at some papers on his desk. Your eyes, however, never left his frame. You could stare at him for eternity, everything about his face seemed so perfect, almost as if it were meant to be admired.

You soon realized your staring and quickly averted your gaze towards the window again.

"You gonna go to the Yule ball this year?" You broke the silence, you knew Mattheo hated those things, he hated having to be around a shit ton of people and act like he enjoyed their company.

"Probably not." His demeanor changed, his tone became short, almost snappy.

"Oh, I'm probably just gonna go with Becca." You mumbled, knowing that if no guy was to ask you, Becca had your back.

"Hm." He nearly laughed at your remark.

"What? What's so funny?" You asked, looking back at him, his back still facing you.

"Just surprised you aren't going with a random slytherin guy or something." He answered, but the way he had said it has a strange undertone that you weren't sure how to feel about.

"Well I mean I don't know, I haven't been asked yet." You stated truthfully.

"Ah, I see." He murmured, soon after taking another drag of his cigarette.

You felt tension building in the room, suffocating tension. You weighed your options out, but you decided it would be better to give Mattheo some space, for what you were unsure of.

"Well, Becca and Emma told me they wanted to go dress shopping earlier so I think I'm gonna head over there so we can solidify our plans." You announced while picking up your books and putting them in your bag. 

"Bye Mattheo." You said while walking out of his dorm, expecting a response.

You shut the door when you got nothing, you mind raced with the possibilities on what could've caused mattheos strange behavior.

Maybe he'd just had an off day? No that couldnt have been it, he was fine moments before his attitude took a turn. 

Perhaps he was just having mood swings, you wouldn't be surprised with all the trash he puts in his body.

You stuck with that story and walked back to your dorm, which was on the other side of the slytherin tower. 

You reached it, setting your things down, then quickly turned around and nearly raced to your friends dorm.

The second you reached it, You waisted no time to jump on her bed, causing her to jump. 

"Yes, of course you can come into my room unannounced and lay on my bed." Becca said sarcastically. She had been digging through her closet in an attempt to find a dress. 

"Sorry, I just need to vent." You said while propping yourself up on your elbows.

"Go ahead." She sighed and laid her body weight 

"Okay so, there's this guy. He's like my best friend, but.."

She raised her eyes brows, signaling you to continue.

"But I want us to be more, or atleast I see him as more than a friend. I just feel like no matter how hard I try I can't get him to open up, he just.. won't."  You groaned.

"And everytime I get this sliver of hope that I've made progress, he just completely shuts down, leaving me in the dark confused and a little bit heartbroken!" You borderline screamed, your face shoved into her mattress.

"Okay, uh, let's calm down. If he's not showing any signs of being interested maybe you should just, move on- well attempt to at least." Becca stated ,rubbing your back.

You shut your eyes, truly taking in your friends words.  “hey Yknow what will make you feel better?” She nearly jumped with excitement. “Going to look for a dress in town.”

You knew she only had good intentions but the words kept echoing through your head. The thought of keeping Mattheo as a friend hurt, but it seemed to be all you could do at this point without ruining your friendship.

Maybe she was right.

Maybe you needed to accept Mattheo 

was just a friend.

-

All you could think about was the Yule ball. Over the next few weeks the days flew by, the anticipation growing larger with each one passing.

Of course you had been asked by some sweet guy from the Ravenclaw house, and, taking Becca's advice, you said yes.

There was nothing wrong with him, he just..he wasn't him.

You had decided to get ready alone, slipping into a beautiful green dress you and Becca had picked out. You finished your hair and makeup, looking into your vanity mirror.

You felt beautiful.

You smiled softly at how well you had dolled yourself up.

Glancing up at the clock, you rushed out of your dorm room, realizing it was the time you and your date had agreed to meet at the entrance by. 

You walked gracefully through the halls, a large smile adorning your face. Your heels tapped softly against the ground. You neared the entrance, your breath becoming shallow from the nerves. 

Then you saw Becca, she was wearing a beautiful Maroon dress. She looked absolutely breath taking.

"Hey!— oh my gosh." Becca looked at you, her jaw dropping. 

"You look stunning! Like some type of goddess...." She said barely above a whisper.

"Becca! Stop, you can't be talking, I forgot how to breathe the moment I saw you." You hugged her.

You were about to continue praising her and her beauty, but before you could comment you heard someone call your name.

"Y/n..wow.." he said, just loud enough for you to hear.

You turned around to see your date, who was wearing a very clean red and black suit. 

"Oh my gosh hi! Sorry for being a tad late, I lost track of time while getting ready!" You made your way next to your date, not before Becca gave you a sly smile and a push, leaving to go with her specimen she had chose for the night 

"It's okay.., you look amazing." He had said, taking your arm into his. He began to lead you into the ballroom.

"Thank you, I must say, you cleaned up nice." You smiled sweetly at him.

You and him entered the large room full of people, everything was elegant and royal, not a single speck of dust on anything.

You looked around the large room as your date led you down the stairs, you couldn't lie, you felt like a princess. The beautiful architecture of the room, complimented by your stunning dress, felt like something straight out of a fairy tale.

Once you had made it to the bottom of the staircase, you excused yourself away from your date in an attempt to go find Becca again. 

You stumbled past groups of people, many of them were couples having a romantic moment. 

You tried your best not to run into anybody, you dodged dancing bodies and nearly jogged across the dance floor.

You almost missed him.

You almost walked right by him.

You almost could've saved yourself the heartbreak.

But no you saw it—him with some random Hufflepuff girl. 

The way he whispered in her ear, the way she giggled a little too sweetly, everything. 

It all made you wanna cry—or throw up, which one that would be you weren't quite sure about yet. 

"Y/n?" Theodore came beside you and patted your back.

"Theo-Theodore, I thought Mattheo wasn't coming to the dance?" You struggled to get your words out as your eyes darted between the scene before you and Theodore. 

"Oh—uh yeah, he wasn't gonna originally, but some girl asked him and I guess he took a liking to her because usually he just brushes everyone off." Theo answered.

"Oh, I see, I just came to say hello. I'll be on my way now." Before Theodore could argue with your strange behavior you turned your back and walked as quickly as you could back to were your date was. 

You abandoned the idea of going to find Becca, you couldn't accidentally run into Mattheo and his.. friend again.

Instead you decided that distracting yourself with your date would be the best thing for your heart at the moment.

"Hey, sorry , I just saw a friend and got distracted." You said, out of breath.

"Oh. Don't even sweat it, I'm just glad you didn't run away and not come back." He joked, dragging you towards the dance floor. You couldn't help but laugh at his bubbly personality. It was a nice change of speed.

"I hope you like to dance." His hands fell onto your hips, yours made their way to his shoulders.

"I actually hate it." You smiled at him. 

"How unfortunate." Your smile grew when he matched your energy. You nearly forgot what you had seen a couple moments ago.

But alas, you didn't.

You could feel your chest tightening up, the tears bordering you waterline. Just thinking about him touching that girl in any way made you want to breakdown.

"Ex.—excuse me." You tried to excuse yourself as politely as you could. 

You didn't want your date too see you like this, vulnerable, heartbroken.

You urgently walked towards any door in your line of sight. When you finally found one, you ran through it. 

You just couldn't escape him, no matter how hard you tried. He was at every single corner you turned.

You nearly groaned when you saw him propped up over the balcony, smoking of course. 

He hasn't seemed to notice you, still looking out at the stars. 

You couldn't do it anymore, you couldn't spend one more fucking second acting like you weren't in love with him. 

The sad part was you'd rather be his friend than him hate you and be nothing at all. As long as he thought about you, you'd be okay. 

That's what you had been telling yourself, but you couldn't hold onto that lie anymore. 

"Mattheo." You croaked out behind him.

His head shot to the side, looking you dead in the eyes. 

"Angel… what're you doing out here."  He looked back out to the stars, unable to make eye contact. 

"I can't do it anymore."  You said shakily.

He turned his full body around this time, his eyes a dark brown. He blew the smoke out of his mouth, the wind pushing it in the opposite direction.

"I can't keep pretending I don't feel this way.., do you know how hard it was to watch you talk to that girl?" You nearly cried out.

"All the girls you fuck with and then bring them to shit like this, I cant keep lying to myself —wishing that it was me instead of her."

You were on the brink of gasping for air, your head pounded. You couldn't believe you had suppressed these emotions for so long. Every single time you went to Mattheo's dorm, you could barely restrain yourself from kissing him. 

Before you could continue on with your speech 

Mattheo had forced you against the wall. 

His lips met yours in a harsh collision. In an almost immediate reaction, your body responded to his actions, kissing him back with just as much need and hurry.

"You don't get to fucking do that."  He pulled back from your lips, still making sure to keep his face mere inches from yours.

"Every single day, I'd sit there and watch you talk to this new guy, I couldn't do shit about it— I wouldn't let myself do shit about it."

“I knew you deserved so much better than some lousy asshole like me, angel.” His hand held a firm grip on your hips, his other still had its place on the stone wall. 

"It took everything in me not to punch that fucker in the face when I saw him look at you, but I knew you wouldn't want that." You melted beneath his gaze.

His kisses trailed down your jawline.

"During second year, when I went to the dance, I saw you there with Draco, I nearly killed him right after. I couldn't bear to see you with anyone other than myself.. so I wouldn't go, I knew I wouldn't be able to handle it so I never went to another ball again." He gently caressed your cheek with his thumb.

"Until this year." He mumbled softly in between the kisses he was leaving on your neck.

He brought his face back up to yours, his eyes stormy and clouded with something darker than just simple need.

"What'd he say to you? What did he call you?" Mattheo asked with a dark shimmer in his eyes, one you were hoping was just from the moon.

You swallowed harshly, you hadn't realized how dry your mouth truly was. 

"He just said I looked nice—" 

"Nice? You look fucking ravishing. I've never met a girl as beautiful as you, never once in my life seen a girl who could compare anywhere near you...That's why I call you angel you know...,because even if an angel walked by, my eyes would still be glued on you."

His gentle voice tickled your ears, and your cheeks warmed up beneath him.

"You are my angel."

He kissed you again, only this time it was more gentle. His lips held no rush, they were soft and comforting. 

You were the one to pull back this time, smiling sweetly up at him. He pulled you from against the wall, leaving the two of you in the center of the balcony, under the sparkling stars.

"I can't believe we've been friends all these years, and neither of us made a move."

He spun you around under the moon light, the beautiful sky knocking the breath out of you.

"Hey matty..?”You whispered once he had began to hold you in his arms gently.

"Yes angel?" He matched your tone, the sweet nickname you gave him made his chest tighten up.

"I love you." You closed your eyes, shutting them slowly.

"I love you... I always thought I'd never be the type to say that so freely, guess I just needed to meet the right person." He swayed the two of you lightly, finding a rhythm in the midnight winds. 

"Of course it's you... 

It's always been you."

[octoberautumnbox]

Yasss, time has come for more Yuri fics, looking forward to a Yuri ult stan :>

Thing with Yuri is, you can never know what to expect next. One moment she's a fluffy puppy cuddling with you then the next she's got you in her grip edging you all day. Just a crazy switch brat. Though that's why I fell hard for her

Enjoy

IZ*ONE/Soloist Jo Yuri & Male Reader

Word count: 2882

Categories/warnings: smut, alcohol, implied violence & blood, very slight dubcon, blowjob, handjob, breast play, cowgirl, kiss-and-fuck, only a little bit rough, okay maybe a tiny bit more rough. 

a/n: got way too into the setup im so sorry ill put a marker down there for the actual smut. also big thank you to @iznsfw for the pic ive been looking for this forever. lastly not proofread nor beta’d bc i still haven’t reached out to anyone seriously for writing tips and stuff yet aaaa

Everyone said Yuri was a good person: all sweet-looking, nice to everyone, takes a joke just as well as the next girl. Wouldn't hurt a fly even if she wanted to. There was something about her though; you couldn't place exactly what, but you were convinced nobody was that naturally sweet. Something was up with her.

It's a good thing then that she wasn't anyone particularly important. Jo Yuri was just another person that you'd never needed to talk to in the six months since class began. It was easy enough to ignore her, and ignore her you did. 

"You've been cooped up for way too long. Come on, 8 pm. Round of drinks on me if you show. Leave right after if you want. I swear. Just enjoy yourself." Your friend loomed over the table, blocking the light from your copy of 1984. Putting your palm on the top of his head, you closed your grip around a handful of his hair and pulled his head to where your book was sufficiently illuminated. "I'll think about it," you mutter before looking back to the yellowing paper. "Ryujin will be there too." Your friend occupied the seat next to you, rubbing his head where you grabbed. "And her friends. Isa, Minjeong, that cutie from ours you hate so fucking much," he says with a smirk, as if it was the checkmate that would make you drop everything and go. "Didn't take her to be into that type of thing," you say without looking up, "Ryujin, sure, but – what's her name? Yuri? – Feels like she just couldn't say no." He shrugs. "Maybe. What matters in the end is she'll be there, she's single, and she's got a hell of a rack." "Fucking perv. Anyway, I'll think about it." He smirks at you again. "Not because of Yuri, god dammit."

~~~

You shut your laptop and stretch. You rub your eyes for a good minute before wiping away the fatigue to find your clock striking 7. You stare at it, as if intimidating it to go faster and faster to past 8 pm so you wouldn't have to go. Defeatedly, and with regret already seeping into your mind, you get up from your chair and grab a towel. 

~~~

“Hey, long time no fucking see!” Ryujin swings her arm around your shoulders and spills half her drink onto the floor. “Hey, Ryu. Glad to see you're already half-shitfaced this early into the night.” “Fuck you. By the way, meet Isa,” she says as she drags you towards one of the booths. “We've met. Hi, Isa.” She waves and downs a shot of gin. “Who convinced you to come all the way out here?” Isa slams the shot glass onto the wooden table, nearly cracking it and probably denting the wood. “Ah, also shitfaced. I was just free, that's all. Nice to see you again.” She waves again before burying her face in her hands. You drop Ryujin onto an open space in the seats before heading for the bar.

“There he is! Fuck you, man. Stay a little!” Your friend turns around and yells, “Round of drinks on me!” The bar roars with cheers as you take a seat on one of the stools. “Glad you could make it, dude! It’s been forever! Hey, enjoy yourself. See any chicks you like? Maybe enjoy someone else too?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you obnoxiously. Thinking he’d be distracted within the next five seconds, you mutter to the bartender an order of a bottle of beer. Just then, you watch as your friend is approached by another guy, talked to a little, and then dragged off in a semi-drunk daze away to some other group. 

“Three margaritas, please.” You turn around to the stool on the other side of you. “Oh, you’re in my class, right? I don’t think I’ve introduced myself. I’m Yuri,” she says with the cutest smile you’ve ever seen. The bartender places her three drinks on the counter and pops the cap off your own before setting it in front of you as well. “Right, I like your top,” gesturing to a little chain by the neckline. “Do you need help carrying those, by any chance? Or are all three of them for you?” She chuckles shyly. “Would you mind giving me a hand bringing these over to the booth with Isa and Ryujin over there?” 

~~~

Your phone reads 11:00 pm. Ryujin’s face is practically glued to the table, and Isa continues mumbling into her palms about her teddy bears wondering why she hasn’t come home yet. Your friend is sitting next to and has his arm around Ryujin, and you can guess where his free hand is. Knowing you’ve drunk a few yourself, you get up and walk cautiously yet in no straight line towards the toilets. After doing your business, you wash your hands and leave. On the way out of the bathroom, you set your mind to wake up Ryujin and offer to see her and Isa home. 

As you make your way back to the booth, you find a pair of guys huddled by a corner. You see between them a familiar figure. In your daze you fight to recall why it’s something you can recall, and then it hits you. The glint of the chain on her neckline catches your eye and you walk over to them, for the second time regret seeping into your mind before anything even happens. You’re way too drunk, you think to yourself. Whatever happens next is a bad idea, but you steel your resolve that it has to happen.

“Oh, Oppa!” She turns both guys’ attention to you, and they start throwing you dirty looks. “Hey, come on. Everyone’s drunk, we’d better go.” You make for her wrist, but one of the guys pushes you back. You notice the other guy has his hand on her shoulder, keeping her against the wall. “Why don’t you look after your friends, and we’ll look after her?” “Don’t make me do this,” you quip as you take a step forward again. After hearing them chuckle, the alcohol takes over you, your vision flashes, and finally fades to red. The last thing you remember is swinging high and kicking low.

~~~

You slowly come to, raising your head from the headrest. A stinging pain and a cold touch on the corner of your mouth greet you as your vision stabilizes from quadruple, to triple, and to double, before settling your focus on a bottle of antiseptic solution on the coffee table in front of you. Immediately, you shut your eyes as tight as they can go, deciding wherever you are is too bright, and deciding that the pain on your temple and across your forehead has something to do with how hard you’re shutting your eyes. 

“You didn’t have to do that. I was just about to leave.” You hear pieces of ice clink against each other as the cold touch moves to your forehead. “Hi, Yuri. They didn't do much worse to you did they?” “No,” she says in a relieved tone, “you saved me. It was a lot to take in honestly, but they’re worse off than you are. Thank you.” The cold spot again moves to the corner of your mouth. 

You struggle your eyes open and find her right up in your face, inspecting what you think is a wound by your eyebrow. She notices you staring at her and she backs off quickly. “Sorry… That one looked pretty bad.” “Thanks for looking after me. Where are we?” You try to sit up, only to be forced back down by a number of painful spots all over your back and torso. “You fought them, they fought back,” she pushes you down firmly onto the sofa and brings the ice bag back onto your face, “you won. We got back to the booth, and you made me call a taxi. You carried Isa-unnie and Ryujin into the taxi,” she hands you a glass of water, which you begin sipping, “and I got the other oppa. We dropped off Isa-unnie, then your friend. You wouldn’t tell me where to drop you off,” she takes the empty glass, “so I had no choice but to bring you here. Ryujin is upstairs in her room.” 

You sit up more comfortably. “Thanks, Yuri. I owe you one.” You check the time, and find it’s 2:00 am. “Sorry for intruding so late. I should go–” “You’re…” she interrupts. “You're in no condition to go home alone. Spend the night. Please?” She looks at you with a pair of puppy dog eyes and flashes a heart with her hands to you. “I… Thank you.” You lay back onto the sofa, the fatigue you didn’t know you had overwhelming you into oblivion.

~~~

(smut starts here)

You open your eyes slowly, taking advantage of the darkness.The first thing you notice are the closed pink curtains, and next is the fluffy scent of baby powder and fresh shampoo. You continue trying to get your bearings, and an immense wave of pleasure shoots up your spine. You look down and see Yuri licking your dick up and down, savoring each stroke of her tongue and letting her spit cover every inch. 

You place a hand on her nape, and she looks up at you. “Oh, good morning. Am I doing this right, Oppa?” She takes another long drag of her tongue from the base to your tip, causing you to moan lightly. “I’w thake that ash a yesh,” she mumbles as she places the head of your cock onto her tongue. “Yuri, what are you…” She takes half your length into her mouth and hollows out her cheeks to suck you off. She releases your dick with a pop, “I feel like I haven’t thanked you enough for last night. Call it even?” She smiles as innocently as can be, and then takes your cock into her mouth again. “Please tell me if you feel uncomfortable, I’ll stop if you want…” “Keep going, baby.” She blushes at the sudden use of her pet name, but returns to her work of thanking you much more profusely than you ever imagined. 

As she continues sucking you off, you snake your hand towards her nightgown and onto her left breast. You ease back into the bed and fondle her through the smooth fabric, earning her own little moans vibrating through her throat and onto your shaft. She lets go of your cock once again, and pulls the straps of her gown off her shoulders. She pulls the smooth dress down, exposing a cute and perky pair of breasts. “Please ogle me a lot, Oppa…” She grabs your shaft again with one hand and makes long and slow strokes up and down your entire length. With her other hand, she takes yours and places it onto her left breast. “Just enjoy… Just enjoy me.” 

“Jack me off faster, baby,” you command her, and she moans slightly at the name again. She goes faster and her grip grows just a bit tighter. She maintains eye contact with you as best as she can despite you pinching her hardening pink nipples, drawing her to close her eyes and let her head lull back. You motion for her to use her mouth again and she obeys immediately, bending over to your dick and granting you easier reach to fondle her other breast. You pay special attention to how she likes her nipples played with, tracing circles along her areolas before taking her nubs between your index finger and thumb to squeeze and tug. In return, she grows a bit more careless with her blowjob, letting her mouth leak more and more saliva, as well as taking in more and more of your length before finally hitting the back of her throat. You accidentally tug on her boobs a bit harder, causing her to moan onto the tip of your dick. You start feeling guilty when she starts sliding your cock out of her mouth, but as you get ready to apologize she lifts up the bottom hem of her nightgown, showing you her clean shaven pussy. She gathers her whole gown into one bunch by her waist before pulling it over her head to leave herself completely naked for you. 

“Please tell me you like me, Oppa…” She pleads slowly and carefully, while bringing your hands to her chest once again. You relish on the warmth and softness of her breasts that you only realize she’s already straddled you and has started stroking your cock again. “Tell me… I want to hear you say it, please.” “You’re so,” she gives you one rapid stroke, “fucking,” she moans as you fondle her more roughly, “hot,” she forces herself to look straight into your eyes again, “Jo Yuri.” She speeds up her handjob, finding it harder and harder to maintain her eye contact in favor of shutting her eyes and letting the pleasure overtake her. “I’m close.” She strokes you rapidly, noticing how your legs are starting to shake, her gaze growing more intense, her squeezing you tighter, your moans getting louder, your grip on her boobs getting rougher and rougher and rougher, until–

She lets go just as you’re about to cum, “Oppa… did you cum?” “Not yet, baby, why’d you stop?” You groan disappointedly at her. “I’m sorry… It’s just… you have to enjoy me more.” She brings her soaked pussy above your cock and rubs the tip all over her lower lips, smearing your precum and her slick together on her hot cunt. You groan again, and she gets the message. Bit by bit, she sinks herself down onto your dick, relishing in the sensation of a huge and girthy cock filling her up. You accidentally squeeze her soft tits too hard again, and with an apologetic harsh tug on both her nipples downward, she abruptly slams herself down onto your waist, taking in your cock to the hilt. You feel every inch of your dick being squeezed by her pussy and soaked with her love juices, and at the end of it you feel your tip prod against what must be her cervix. 

“Never got my toy this deep into me before. Do you like it, Oppa? Does my slutty little fuckhole make you feel good?” She grins evilly at you as she leans forward for a kiss. You barely process her amazingly naughty words before she starts riding you, lifting herself up until only your tip remains in her, before slamming herself down again, taking your entire length into herself. You relish how her cunt clenches around you so lovingly, how tight she is that there’s no way this doesn’t hurt her, how loud she moans while you feel your cock quickly entering and exiting her pussy. 

She plants her elbows on either side of your head and cradles your face right in front of her bouncing chest. You take her right nipple into your mouth and she moans all the more loudly, rides you all the more violently. Your right hand grabs her left breast, fondling it the way that drives her crazy, and your last free hand gripping her ass as a hold to guide her up and down your cock. “Yuri,” you mumble with her nipple between your teeth, “I’m close again…” She rides you harder and you find it more difficult holding it in. You pray she lets you cum this time, calling upon a God you once knew, but also you pray that she lets you pull out first. Or not. As long as you cum. 

You begin sucking more harshly, and she responds by riding you faster; she grinds on your dick and drags your cock over every inch of her warm, wet walls. Her moans grow louder, more desperate, aching for her own release as well. Your grip on her ass tightens too, so much so that her cheeks spill out between your fingers as you pull her closer and pump into her as deep as you humanly can. 

You must’ve hit every last one of her good spots. A scream tears through her throat as she lifts herself off of you. Her cum sprays all over your waist, your cock, her bedsheets, and she even has the indecency to rub her clit all throughout, causing more and more of her cum to spray everywhere. You watch her through her climax, admiring the way her thighs jiggle with every jerk of her hips, the way her nipples stand erect on top of her bouncing boobs, the way her face contorts with an ungodly amount of pleasure she’s never experienced in her life. She falls forward, pressing her still-leaking cunt on your dick, and her breasts onto your chest as she heaves deep breaths through what should be a now-bruised throat. In a raspy yet sweet voice, she asks, “Was it good, Oppa? Did you like the feeling of pounding your horny pleasure girl’s tight little cunt?” She snuggles into your neck and plants little kisses along your jawline. “I haven’t cum yet, baby…” you admit quietly and out of breath. “Oh? That’s fine, Oppa. It just means you can enjoy me more.”

a/n: whoa that was way longer than I ever thought I could write at this point. all of that just this afternoon and only in response to the ask lol. this wasnt in my WIPs tbh and it was just a random BFH that accidentally took me... five hours to write? again im glad how it turned out thanks for reading all this youre awesome

[melrodrigo]

A little scorpion goes a long way - W.A.

Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader

Summary: You bring back an old friend.

Warnings: ooc wednesday, R being a simp

Word Count: 2k+

A/N: I’m bored, here’s a little Wednesday oneshot like promised!

Learning at Nevermore Academy had its perks and downsides, but one of your favorite things about the school was how little they cared about students’s powers.

You had no face? You’re just another student at Nevermore. You’re a freak emo girl? Doesn’t matter. You could revive things from the dead? Who cares?

You; were apart of the latter group. It’s not that you were so powerful to the point you could bring actual human beings to life, but enough to save a dying plant or two. Only, anytime you did it, there would always be ass-kicking consequences.

You’d always have a terrible headache and a killer cold after. Skin all colorless, resembling the look of a character from a Tim Burton movie.

When you had first met your now girlfriend of 11 months Wednesday Addams, she had shared a heartfelt story about her pet scorpion, Nero, and how he had gotten killed by some idiot normie kids.

It was heartbreaking. You swore then and there that as soon as you got the chance you’d try and find the scorpion and bring it back to life.

It also just so happened that yours and Wednesday’s one year anniversary was coming up, pegging the perfect opportunity for such a gift.

It was really hard to try and discreetly ask Wednesday where she had buried her pet scorpion without sounding suspicious.

So you didn’t.

Instead, you called up her father. It wasn’t any less scary, since he was still an Addams, and the father of your girlfriend, but at least you knew he was a bit softer than the rest of the family.

“Hellomr.addamscouldipleaseaskyouifyoyreawarewherewednesdayburiedherpetscorpionforagift?” You stumbled out, completely unintelligible.

“Hello? Who is this?” Came his booming voice from the other side of the phone.

A long paused sounded, you trying to calm down and wipe your sweaty palms against Wednesday’s sheets.

“Hey Mr.Addams, it’s YN. Would you happen to know where Wednesday buried her pet scorpion all those years ago? I need it for a gift im making her.” You said, as slowly as you could, but it still came out as a bit of a ramble.

He barked out a laugh, and your face flushed bright red. You thanked the lords that you decided to do this on the phone instead of in real life.

“Of course darling, it’s right in our backyard. Would you like me to send it to you? Me and Morticia need an idea for date night anyway. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled with grave digging!”

You let out a relieved sigh and a slight chuckle, shaking your head at the Addams Family antics.

“Yes, that would be amazing, thank you Mr. Addams.” You breathe in relief.

“Please, call me Gomez.”

There was a pause of uncertainty on your end before answering, “Of course….Mr.Gomez.”

A sound uncanny to a door swinging open had you turning around hurriedly, and hanging up before Mr. Gomez could even utter another word.

Wednesday stood there, looking unbothered; eyes half lidded until they locked with yours.

“What’s wrong with you? Why do you look like that?” She asked, eyes narrowed. You smiled a little at her tone, because it wasn’t one of annoyance, but rather of worry. Maybe you were turning her a bit soft after all.

You smile shyly, striding up to Wednesday but stopping just short in front of her, giving her time to pull away if she wanted.

When she didn’t, and in fact, leaned a little closer; you closed the distance and gave her a peck on the cheek.

“I’m amazing.” You breathed against her cheek, lips moving toward her neck.

She titled it up a bit, giving you more access to wander around as you please. Rigid hands found your waist, and she squeezed them slightly.

You pull away grinning.

“Oh no, you’re not getting it yet. Plus, tomorrow’s our anniversary, don’t you want it to be extra romantic?” You teased.

She let out a huff and crossed her arms, clearly displeased.

“I dont see what difference one day has.” She mumbled under her breath, still staring you down.

“As romantic as that is, I have to go.” You tell her, squeezing her finger once. All she does is give you a curt nod and returns to her desk.

-

A thing you learned later that day was that Gomez Addams was a man of his word. Not even a couple hours later, a package had arrived for you.

Inside the little shoe box was a photo of the couple grave digging, smiling wider than you’ve ever seen them; and the corpse of a certain infamous scorpion.

“Nero! Ha!“ You exclaimed, jumping up and down in excitement. You inspected the little scorpion, it was tiny enough; should be no sweat to bring it back.

You were extremely wrong.

Considering the thing was dead for almost 10 years; it took an absurd amount of energy out of you.

God if you thought bringing plants back to life was hard, this thing was something you’ve never seen before. Strong and vicious, shooting a sharp pain through you as you connected the back of the scorpion to the palm of your hand.

At one point you seriously thought you were going to pass out. Sweat formed at your face and your vision was starting to get a little blurry.

And to add salt to the wound, the moment the scorpion was brought back, it decided to jump the person who had so graciously brought it back to life.

Leaving multiple scars on the side of your neck, before you could wrestle it away from you and into the pet box you had bought the week before.

Holy shit. I need a rest.

With your vision blurred and head pounding a million miles per second, you collapsed onto the bed, letting the world encompass you in a dark black haze.

-

You’re awaken the next day by an uninterested looking Wednesday, (that might just be how she always looks) hovering over you in the bed. You roll over in the bed to get a better view of her.

“Oh hey, Wends.” You greeted, trying to get up and talk to the girl properly, but letting out a groan as you clutched the side of your stomach in pain.

You pulled the sheets down to check your side, looking for the cause of your pain. What greeted you was a huge dark blue bruise that spread from the top of your rib cage to your waist.

“Huh. That’s weird.” You mumble.

You didn’t notice Wednesday’s eyes widening at the sight, since you were a bit busy poking at the wound.

She quickly slapped your hand away, and pushed you back down into the bed. Silencing you with a press of her pointer finger on your lips.

“Don’t move.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Wednesday move so quick, even back when she was looking for the hyde all those months ago. You stared at her in awe as she rummaged through your belongings, and pulled out a first aid kit.

Nevermore had employed one in every students dorm, seeing as to there were plenty of mini medical emergencies that would occur on a daily basis.

“Thing. Go get my Magical Beings 101 textbook. It’s located on my desk.”

Thing quickly hurried off, no doubt due to the harsh tone Wednesday used.

“I’m fine, Wends. Really. I’ll be up and running in a couple days.” You said as you reached over, trying to stroke her hand.

Surprisingly, she didn’t pull away, but instead gripped it tighter. She was silent for a moment, no sound except for your heavy breathing.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I know you used your powers YN. What I can’t seem to figure out is what for. Why are you so ill?” She asked, eyebrows furrowed.

And if you thought your heart couldn’t get any bigger, you were wrong. The way Wednesday was looking at you, all worried glances and intense eyes, you think you could pass away right then and there.

She cared.

As you tried to get up, ignoring the way Wednesday surged forward to stop you, quickly pushing you back into the bed. You didn’t put up much of a fight.

“This is gonna suck, and I wanted to save it for a more romantic setting, but I don’t think I’m leaving bed today.” You stated, while Wednesday was still eyeing you like you would get up again.

“Could you pass me the box under my desk Wends? But you have to promise to close your eyes.” You murmur, bat your eyes at her.

At that Wednesday rolled her eyes, and you were a little relieved to see a familiar Wednesday expression.

“And why is that?” She inquired.

Um.

“My brain is too meshed to come up with an excuse. It’s for our anniversary, but please don’t look, I wanna see your reaction.” You admitted, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.

With a huff, Wednesday moved to your desk and closed her eyes, which took a while for her to actually find the box and bring it out.

“Over here.” You say, in case your voice would help her sense of direction better.

“I’m dating an imbecile who thinks I’m an imbecile.” Wednesday mutters under her breath, not aware that you had heard.

Wednesday walks over and stops in front of you, as you pat the surface on the bed next to you.

She gets the hint, and after some reluctance sits down and waits peacefully.

It’s a little domestic, and your heart starts beating faster.

You take the box from her hands and try your best to cover the clear part, then look over to Wednesday.

“Okay, you can open them now.” You say.

Wednesday’s eyes are flicked open in an instant, her peaceful face turning back into her usual resting glare.

She squints at the box, and tilts her head. You push it forward on the bed a little, gesturing for her to open the lid.

She does, and when she peers inside, her eyes widen. She dips her hand in the box and whispers, “Nero, flip.”

When the scorpion walks up to her and does a little turn of it’s body, you guess it could be called a flip, Wednesday gasps.

“It is you.” She says, sounding star struck.

And then as if just remembering you were there, she looks at you, with more emotion than you’ve ever seen before.

You feel your knees get a little week, even though you haven’t even been standing. Wednesday looks in awe.

“Happy Anniversary Wends. I didn’t know where I could find Nero so I called up your dad, I hope that’s oka-“

You’re cut off by Wednesday engulfing you in a fierce hug, and she would never admit it, but you swear you felt something damp on your shoulder.

You let the moment be, don’t tease her about it. Caressing her back a little as she leans just slightly into you.

“You’re an idiot.” She whispers, and you shiver at the sensation of her lips on your bare skin.

“Yeah I know, but you love me.” You say with a cheeky grin.

Wednesday doesn’t say anything back,but you don’t mind. Words had never been her way of expressing love, and having her here, teary eyed and smiling; albeit a tiny smile, was confirmation enough she felt the same.

You didn’t end up getting to do the things on your list for your anniversary, but in a way, what you ended up with was much better.

The rest of the day was spent with Wednesday in your arms, and a tiny scorpion in hers.

It was getting sort of uncomfortable, the position you were in, but you didn’t dare move away.

When Enid had walked in, looking for her disappearing roommate, and spotted you two asleep in each other’s arms. She bit back a squeal and snapped a quick photo on her phone.

You later asked for the photo and set it as your lockscreen.

It was a real pain bringing Nero back, but considering everything, you would definitely do it again.

[outermaybanks]

just a kiss - part iii - jj x bi!reader x kie

part one ☆ part two

a/n: the much-awaited part 3. i can't even promise this is the last thing ill write for this, bc im so in love with this throuple. warnings for smut 18+ CW!! smut, unprotected sex (pull out gang), p-in-v, fingering, oral both f and m receiving but mostly f, cumeating, threesome... i think that covers it? if im missing something lmk

You didn’t know how to get ready, Kie had texted you to make sure you hadn’t changed your mind, but she wanted to keep the actual date a surprise. You settled for something cute, but still casual enough, and waited, but you were surprised when your phone dinged with a text from JJ.

Maybank: im here Maybank: ur dad seems really happy to see me is he mad i called off yesterday

You felt a wave of excitement clash with a wave of anxiety. You quickly grabbed your bag and went downstairs. You and your dad lived above his shop, which made keeping secrets from him extremely difficult. You walked through the garage, finding JJ standing with your dad looking into a car with a flashlight. “Dad, it’s JJ’s day off,” you said as you walked over. JJ turned when he heard your voice, a smile creeping onto his lips. “I just wanted to show him the engine on this baby… so where you two going?” You and JJ exchanged looks, he looked nervous to say the wrong thing, which left you with a very important decision to make. And you quickly made your choice.

“Actually, JJ and Kie are taking me on a date,” you tell him, and JJ’s head snapped to look at your father. “Kie, now that’s… that’s JJ’s girlfriend who you like very much, right?” your dad teased, a knowing smile turning the corners of his lips up. JJ’s head snapped back to you, this time with a smirk. “That’s the one. C’mon, JJ, before he ropes you into checking out the Mustang he’s never driven,” you say, trying to lead JJ away. “It’s a 1967, she’s a beaut, and I’m real close to fixin’ her up!” your dad called, JJ almost turned back around, but you kept pushing him forward.

Once you were out of the garage, you saw JJ’s bike parked in the gravel. “C’mere,” JJ said softly. You looked up at him just before he put his helmet on you. “I, uh, I liked that you told the dad the truth…” he added as he fastened the strap beneath your chin. “Well, if this date is successful, he’d find out eventually,” you explain. “Besides, I’m pretty sure he hired you with the intention of marrying me off to you, so…”

JJ chuckled before swinging his leg over his bike. “Hold on tight, cupcake.”

You were grateful for the helmet, it hid your blush as you climbed on behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

JJ took you back to the Chateau, only it looked different. You had heard rumors that there was a hot tub, but you had never seen it for yourself before now. And the big tree in the back year was covered in fairy lights, while Kie sat beside a bonfire; she quickly stood when she heard the rev of JJ’s bike. 

JJ helped you off his bike and you two walked over to join Kie, who was struggling to hold back a smile. “Hey… I hope it’s not too much, I wanted it to look nice,” Kie said, vaguely gesturing to the scene behind her. “It’s beautiful… John B doesn’t mind that we’re using his house for our date?” you asked. “Nah, he’s cool with it. Him and Sarah are staying at a hotel over on Figure Eight for the night,” JJ answered. You started to look around, mesmorized by the twinkling of the fairy lights, and your heart swelled knowing Kie and JJ did all this just to make it nice for you.

Kie had made you dinner, a family recipe she claimed. “I just figured you were probably tired of pizza,” she said bashfully when you complimented the taste. The three of you ate together, JJ told you the story of how he and Kie met, then you told Kie about JJ’s first day working for your dad, how he fumbled a battery change because he had never worked on that type of car before. “Y’know, she told her dad she was coming on a date with us,” JJ mentioned. Kie’s eyes widened, her eyes were smiling despite the fact that she was chewing. “You did?” she asked after she swallowed. “Yeah… he’s pretty chill, and I figured… there’s a good chance he’ll be seeing both of you around.” Something about that made Kie blush.

After dinner, JJ was strumming mindlessly on his guitar while you and Kie made s’mores for dessert. “Do you like ‘em golden brown or burnt?” Kie asked, offering to cook yours for you. “Cremated.” Kie’s face scrunched up in disgust as she let out a laugh. You didn’t mind the teasing, you just thought she looked so pretty. Then it occurred to you, this was a date, you didn’t have to hold back. You tucked a piece of hair behind her ear so you could get a better look at her face, then place that hand on her thigh. Her skin felt warm from the fire, at least that’s what you told yourself.

Kie had a proud smile on her face, but her attention stayed on the task at hand: making you a s’more.

Sometime while your attention was on Kie roasting a marshmallow, JJ moved over to sit closer to the two of you, and now you sat between them shoulder to shoulder. “Don’t listen to Kie, burnt is best,” JJ said, making you smile. “You only think that because you’re incapable of not burning a marshmallow,” Kie shot back, just as she brought the on-fire marshmallow up to her lips to blow out, before sticking it right back in the fire, turned slightly. 

You felt JJ put his arm around you and you turned your head to look up at him, smiling. His eyes moved between yours, before flickering down to your lips. You thought he looked so beautiful in the light of the fire and twinkling lights.

When Kie finished making your s’more she handed it to you with a smile, a smile that made you feel warm inside. You thanked her before biting it; she had made it perfect. “Oh, hold on,” JJ said, causing you to turn to look at him with wide, unknowing eyes. He held your chin still before licking the corner of your mouth. “Sorry, you had a little something there.”

His eyes once again moved between yours before suddenly he was leaning in again, pressing his lips to yours. “JJ!” Kie scolded. “We said we’d take it slow.”

JJ pulled away, licking his bottom lip. “You’re right, you’re right, I’m sorry. We don’t want to rush things with you.”

You turned back to look at Kie, her eyes were wide with worry, worry that JJ had already scared you off.

“What if… What if I don’t want to take it slow?” you asked, taking Kie by surprise. She looked past you to JJ. “Then I’d say,” JJ spoke up, stealing your attention once again. “It’s the perfect time to get in the hot tub.”

You looked back to Kie, to see what she thought. She looked between you and JJ, then without a word she lifted her shirt over her head. You turned back to JJ, and he was now standing, lifting his shirt over his head, so you followed their lead. 

JJ quickly got in first, but Kie waited for you, then held her hand out for you to take as you both got in together. The jets felt good on your back, but Kie’s touch felt better as she trailed her hand up your arm. “Can I kiss you?” you heard yourself ask before you could stop yourself. The question made Kie smile before she scooted even closer to you, her hand now resting on your shoulder. You brought your hand up to her cheek, pulling her closer before pressing your lips to hers. 

The kiss very quickly became hungry, but then suddenly Kie pulled away, and before you could even process it, she leaned over to press her lips to JJ. You had noticed their physical intimacy had slowed since all of this started, all the way back in June, but you had to admit now that you you weren’t forcing yourself to look away, you found it hot to watch, and wondered if they felt the same way.

When Kie and JJ pulled away, his eyes, dark and clouded, fell to you next. You felt like you were under a spell as you moved towards him, both his hands coming to cup your cheeks and pull your face towards hims before he pressed his lips to yours. Your hands found his shoulders before sliding down his chest. His lips moved down to kiss your neck, and Kie took advantage of your available lips.

Your whole body was starting to burn from within, and being in the hot tub was becoming too much. “Wanna go… inside?” you mumbled between kisses. Kie pulled away, and so did JJ, and suddenly you were worried you had said the wrong thing. Kie’s eyes were searching yours, but you didn’t know for what. Then JJ stood up, shaking his hair like a wet dog, before holding both his hands out. You took one, while Kie took the other, and the three of you got out slowly, only to practically race each other inside. 

The second the bedroom door was closed, someone’s lips were on yours, but you didn’t see whose, and you didn’t really care. “JJ!” Kie’s voice scolded before your kiss ended. “Sorry, he’s always like that. Eager.” “I don’t mind…” you answered honestly, and Kie smiled, before sitting on the bed. “Have you ever done it before?” Kie asked as JJ sat beside her. “Sex? Yeah, I’ve had sex.” “A threesome,” JJ corrected. “Oh! Uh… no actually, have you?” 

A proud smile came over JJ’s face. “Well, I don’t mean to brag, but-” “I haven’t either,” Kie quickly interjected. “And I’ve never been with a woman before, so… I’m sorry if I’m bad at it,” she giggled a little, but you could tell she was genuinely insecure. You wanted to make her feel better.

“Well, I’ve been with women before. And I’ve been told I’m a good teacher,” you say softly. Kie’s eyes moved up and down your figure before she nodded. You sat down on the other side of her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before lurching forward to press your lips to hers. Her hands moved to rest against your thigh, but they froze there, even as the kiss deepened.

“You can touch me,” you whispered between kisses, then looked to JJ, whose eyes were focused on where you and Kie were connecting. “You can too,” you added before kissing down to Kie’s neck. She let out a soft moan, a sound you never wanted to stop hearing. Kie’s hands hesitantly moved, first sliding up to hold your waist, then to cup your breasts over your bra. To encourage her, you left out a soft sound of approval, and let your hands move down to her thighs, sliding them up slowly. 

You felt the weight on the bed shift and dip, and you quickly turned to see JJ sitting on the other side of you. “Don’t let me distract you, baby, keep going,” he said softly. It was all so hot, you had never felt this hungry for touch. As if he could read your mind, JJ’s hand landed on your thigh, and you felt his lips on your shoulder as he watched you mark up his girlfriend, your girlfriend? That was still kind of unclear. 

You let your fingers ghost over Kie’s panties, then softly rubbed her through them, you could feel how wet she was when you pushed down, and fuck it turned you on. You felt JJ’s finger slide over the back of your bra strap, so you spare him another look to give him a nod, telling him he could take it off, and he did, helping you slide the straps down your arm. When Kie saw this, she reached behind her back to take off her own bra.

“Can you lay back for me, sweetheart?” you practically cooed in Kie’s ear, and she eagerly nodded, scooting back a bit before laying down, and immediately you straddled her lap, your lips returned to her neck, but this time you kissed down her chest before licking the bud of her nipple, then taking it into your mouth while your hand palmed her other breast. 

The sounds that fell from her were heavenly, little whines of pleasure, wordlessly begging for more. You kissed further down her stomach, until you reached the hem of her panties. “Can I take these off?” you asked, slightly out of breath from your own excitement.

Kie nodded fervently, “Yes, please. Need you there.”

Who were you to deny her when she asked so nicely? You slowly peeled them down, guiding them down her legs until they hit the floor. You felt her move and looked up to see JJ now stood beside her, as she started pulling his boxers down. You had looked up just in time to watch his hard cock spring free, and the sight of Kie taking him into her mouth made your mouth water. 

You bit your lip, watching the scene in front of you, before pushing Kie’s thighs apart to kiss up them. Right before you reached her core, you looked up through your eyelashes and found JJ’s eyes on you, so you kept your eyes on his as your tongue slid through Kie’s folds. Even with a dick in her mouth, the moan she let out was loud, which made JJ let out a groan as he fought to keep his eyes open and on you.

You let your tongue move up and down a few times before sliding it into her tight hole, and her head fell back, her hand coming up to stroke JJ’s dick while she regained her composure. “Fuck, that feels so good…” Kie said softly, giving your ego a stroke. 

You wrapped your lips around her clit and sucked, very slightly moving your head, and you slid one finger, then a second into her. You stared in amazement at where your fingers disappeared, and how she clenched around you, and you were jealous for just a moment of JJ for having a dick. 

“She making you feel good, mamas?” JJ asked softly, running a hand through Kie’s hair. Your eyes moved to look at her as she nodded, only capable of making soft moans. “We should be making her feel good, too, don’t you think?” Again Kie just nodded. JJ looked back at you with a smirk, before he moved, disappearing from your sight which allowed you to give your full attention to Kie.

That is until you felt his lips on your shoulder, and slowly move down your back. “Whaddya say, sweet girl? Can I have a taste?” JJ asked. You didn’t want to stop what you were doing, so you looked up to Kie and nodded. “She says yes,” Kie answered for you. You felt JJ’s big hands hold the back of your thighs, just before you felt him move your panties aside, his tongue licking a stripe from your clit to your entrance, pulling a moan from you that sent vibrations straight to Kie’s core. It felt like a fucked up version of the telephone game. 

“God, you’re so fucking wet, y/n,” JJ grunted, as his hand came down on your ass with a slap, his fingers kneeding the flesh. “Got this turned on just from eating our girlfriend out?”

Oh. You thought. I guess it’s not unclear. 

JJ’s tongue slid into your pussy as he tried to lap up the juices of your arousal, then his tongue moved to doing circles around your clit, then to flicking the bud with his tongue before his lips wrapped around it.

Fuck he was good at that. But you couldn’t let him distract you, not when you could feel how close Kie was. You starting pumping your fingers faster, then slowly added a third finger, switching back to using your tongue on her clit. 

“Close, close, fuck!” Kie panted out. You couldn’t help but think she looked angelic with her hair all messy on the pillow, her lidded eyes still so big and eager with a slight pout on her lips. Hearing those words spurred you on, your tongue laying flat to curl up to lap up her juices, but then you felt JJ’s hands grip your hips tighter as he pulled you back to his mouth, vying for your attention. 

With your free hand you reached up to massage her breast, your fingers gently pinching and playing with her nipple, before her hand came down to tangle in your hair, her thighs trying to squeeze together as her breathing picked up, signalling her orgasm.

You slowed your movement, but didn’t stop as she came down from her high, her chest rising and falling with her quick breaths. “Come here, y/n,” Kie breathed out as she slowly sat up. You sat up, eyebrows furrowed in confusion by what she meant, but you obeyed nonetheless. 

Kie’s hands cupped your cheeks as she pressed a kiss to your lips, and it dawned on you that that was the first time she kissed you. “Jayj, you too,” Kie said between kisses. You felt the part of the bed beside you dip down, just before Kie pulled back. You looked over to JJ, and without thinking, leaned over and pulled him down to kiss you. 

JJ’s hands immediately found something to hold onto, one on the back of your head to keep you against him, and the other on your thigh, his thumb making small circles, inching closer and closer to your core. 

“JJ’s gonna fuck you now, okay?” Kie asked, and hearing it took you by surprise so you pulled away, but JJ’s lips kissed down your jaw to your neck. Once you processed the words, and thought about it for a moment, you nodded, and she smiled, going in for another quick kiss. When you two pulled away, she guided you to lay back against her, your head leaning against her shoulder.

JJ’s hand slid down your stomach to your underwear, and after you gave him the nod of approval, he pulled them down. JJ used his thumb to spread you open and get a good look, which would have made you feel bashful if Kie wasn’t currently playing with your hard nipples. Her breath hitting your ear was turning you on, which was something new for you.

JJ slid his fingers through your folds, collecting the juices before coating his dick with them. When JJ leaned down, he first pressed a kiss to Kie’s lips, then yours as his hands opened your legs for him. You felt him line up at your entrance, before slowly his tip slid into you, making you gasp.

You weren’t a virgin by any means, but you had been honest when you told Kie and Sarah you had mostly dated girls, it had been a while since you had been with a man.

“JJ’s kinda big, he’s gotta go slow, baby,” Kie whispered in your ear as she continued palming your breasts. 

Kinda was an understatement, JJ had at least two inches on the guys you’d been with previously. 

“She can take it, baby, I know she can,” JJ praised, slowly sliding in more. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight, princess, you feel so good.”

Hearing JJ’s praises spurred you on, you wanted to make him proud. “Please, J, more, I can take it,”

JJ smirked, “See, Kie, told ya.”

Your head fell back on her shoulder as you started to feel the stretch. “You’re doing so good, baby,” Kie’s soft voice encouraged you, and you felt her press a kiss to the side of your head. God, if threesomes always felt this good, you’d never turn one down again.

That’s when it really hit you: this wasn’t just a threesome, this was your first time with your new girlfriend, and your new boyfriend.

When JJ finally bottomed out, you let out a soft whine, turning your head and puckering your lips. The sight made Kie smile before she kissed you, one of her hands cupping her cheek while the other slid down your body to play with your sensitive bud. 

You couldn’t stop the moans from falling from your lips as JJ started moving his hips, starting off slow but picking up speed. 

“You look so fucking hot right now, y/n,” Kie mumbled against your skin, her lips moving to kiss the shell of your ear.

“Both of you look so fucking hot- fuck I could cum now,” JJ panted his hand sliding up your body to give your breasts attention since Kie was preoccupied with your clit. 

You had only had one previous sexual partner able to get you to climax, and even when you were by yourself, it took at least half an hour to get there, but this, this was an entirely new sensation, one that was getting you closer and closer after only just starting.

“Fuck, you gonna cum on my cock? I can feel ya squeezin’ the shit outta me,” JJ said softly, his southern accent coming out thicker. 

“I wanna see you cum on his dick,” Kie whispered in your ear, and it was what sent you over the edge, a high pitched whine leaving your lips as your body went limp in Kie’s arms.

“Shit- Fuck!” JJ exclaimed before you felt him pull out, fisting his cock until his cum shot out on your chest. Your mind was still hazy from your orgasm, but you felt a sense of pride in knowing you made him cum. “I’m sorry- I didn’t have time- to ask where- to cum,” JJ pant outed between breaths. 

“‘S okay,” you mumbled.

“I think she liked it, Jayj,” Kie spoke up, before leaning forward to wipe your chest with her finger, licking the cum clean off. “You want a taste?” 

You didn’t even think, just nodded, and Kie wiped the rest off your chest before sliding her finger past your lips. You hollowed your cheeks and kept your eyes on hers while you sucked it clean.

“Fuuuuuck,” JJ breathed out, running a hand through his hair. The second Kie’s finger retracted from your mouth, JJ turned your chin to make you look at him before he pressed his lips to yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth. 

“You took him so well, baby, made us proud,” Kie praised, leaning over to kiss your neck. God you swore you could’ve melted right then and there. 

“I’m so fucking glad we played truth or dare,” JJ said after you two pulled away, making you giggle.

“Think John B’s gonna be mad we fucked in his bed?” you asked. “Considering I told him we were using the chateau for a movie night, we could just wash the sheets and not say anything,” JJ replied. “Yeah they don’t need to know where we fucked, just that y/n’s our girlfriend now,” Kie added, and the words fell so easily for her, the simple action made your heart swell.

JJ could be grateful that he suggested the game of truth or dare, but you were grateful you told your dad to hire him.

©ᵒᵘᵗᵉʳᵐᵃʸᵇᵃⁿᵏˢ ²⁰²⁴

[literaila]

will you ever think of writing reader's reaction to megumi going on a mission alone and getting hurt and after finishing the mission he stumbles home having lost a ton of blood and just looking very hurt ? her poor baby is hurt so what will she do ?

(waaaaay back in the past)

“what the hell is wrong with you?” you ask him, wanting to slap the stupid smirk off his face, the stupid glasses, and his stupid chiseled jaw.

his face is completely unfair. his attitude is infuriating.

satoru moves his jaw, wincing in pain. “if i don’t let him get a hit in, he doesn’t let me spar—“

“you let him hit you?”

your hand is holding his chin, keeping his stupid eyes on yours—even through the glasses, even if you can barely see them.

something about satoru gojo makes you want to run towards the edge of the nearest cliff, and then turn around so you can drag him along with you.

he is a terrible person.

“suguru would’ve noticed. i just forgot to block—he swung right,” he says it almost in awe, almost groaning, “he never swings right.”

“the more you talk, the stupider you sound.”

“let me go. it doesn’t even hurt.”

“i think he broke your nose.”

“what!?” he stands up, off of the table in the infirmary. you take a step back, scowling at him. your arms cross automatically. “is it crooked?”

“yes. it’s very ugly now.”

satoru scowls. and then he lights up, once again. you can basically feel it when he opens up all of his eyes. “it’s fine. shoko will fix it.”

you scoff at him, your glare an impenetrable thing.“shoko is busy. and this is your fault—don’t take up her energy just because you’re being an absolute idiot—“

“she likes practicing.”

“you know what i like?” you ask, taking a step closer, wishing that you could pop his convient little bubble and pull on his hair. “i like not having to drag you off of the court yard because you were stupid enough to let geto hit you!”

“he barely grazed me,” satoru crosses his arms. he’s looking down at you like he always does—self righteously, arrogantly. “i think you should calm down a little.”

you blink, watching him.

and then you tilt your head. “can you release your technique real quick?”

“huh? why?”

“so i can mess your face up even more—“ and then you push even closer to him, hands going up to his face and—just like you knew he would—satoru releases his technique.

maybe it’s because he’s caught off guard by your impromptu storming of him, or maybe it’s just because he’s finally gained some listening skills.

either way, it lands satoru sat back on the table, and you basically in his lap.

satoru coughs, holding his nose. “i think you broke it again,” he groans.

you look to him, wide eyes, and then down.

and, well, oops.

but you straighten your face out quickly. “good. i hope that hurts.”

“i didn’t do anything to deserve this.”

“just because you’re a loser who lets himself get attacked—“

“we were training—“

“doesn’t mean i should have to put up with it.”

your arms are crossed. you’re sitting in satoru gojo’s lap, staring intently at him, and it’s…

(well it’s sort of like a breath of air. it’s sort of like you’ve wanted to be here for the past year. sort of like you actually like him. which you don’t, just to be clear.)

then satoru smiles, and he’s almost hypnotizing you. “are you worried about me?”

“no. i’m worried about my own sanity. i already have to deal with everyone else getting hurt, i thought,” you take a breath, shaking your head. “i thought i was cleared with you. ‘cause of your… thingy.”

“my thingy?”

you roll your eyes. “you can apologize anytime, you know.”

“i’m very sorry that you have to look at me when im this disheveled.”

“you look the same as always.”

satoru pouts. “why would you say that?”

you scoff, flicking his head. “stop being an idiot—i know it’ll be difficult for you, but at least try.”

“are you flirting with me?”

“you wish.”

then satoru coughs again, still grinning at you, his face beginning to turn all sorts of purples.

there’s a moment where you stare at him, awaiting his next move.

but satoru only clears his throat. “are you, uh, going to get off of me?”

your eyes widen and you scramble to get off of him, basically elbowing satoru in the stomach while you do it, and you move five steps away from the table.

just in case.

satoru grins at you again. “well, i should probably call shoko so she—“

you cross your arms again. “i already did.”

“you did?”

“yeah. when you were washing the blood off of your face.”

satoru practically sparkles at you. “aren’t you sweet?”

“she’ll be here soon,” you say, looking away from him. “and you owe me.”

“of course,” satoru hums, “whatever you want.”

[essjujutsu]

CHAPTER Ⅰ: SUPRISE!

( the gc is in yuji's perspective! )

knock

knock

damn, did yuji already forget your coming? you told him like..two hours ago!

just then, the door swings open and your brother opens the door.

"yn!! your here!"

yuji says enthusiastically, opening the door wider so you can fit your suitcase inside.

"where's sukuna? is he home?"

"nah, he went to the grocery store. he said we didn't have enough food in the house 'cause i ate it all or something."

"oh, thats..nice of him."

you set your suitcase down on the living room floor, flopping down on the couch. you're definitely glad to be home.

"one of your friends texted me, nobara—she seems really nice."

you announce as yuji sits down on the couch aswell, nodding in response.

"yeah, everybody's nice—trust me! they'll all like you."

you give him a smile, watching him go back on his phone to do who knows what. you really do hope they all like you—you may have stalked some of their instagrams once or twice, but that was just because yuji tagged them and you were curious!

a couple minutes later you head the front door open behind you—you look up from the couch and see your uncle sukuna standing there with a few grocery bags. he still looked pretty much the same, face tattoos and all. you remember back when he first gained custady of you, yuji and choso—sukuna was pretty scary for a elementary schooler, but he was nice...in his own way at least. but you never really got to know him like yuji did, since you had already planned to leave for boarding school.

"oh, you're home. hey kid."

he spoke, coming over to the living room where you and yuji sat. though before you even got to respond, yuji interrupted.

"sukuna, whats for dinner! ooh can i help make it? i wanna show yn my amazing cooking skills!"

"since when can you cook, yuji?"

you ask in response, raising an eyebrow.

"uhm! since like, forever! sukuna taught me and not to brag but im pretty good."

"he's alright."

you laugh in response, as yuji darts off to the kitchen—followed by your uncle. you smile as you get up from the couch to, walking over to follow them.

you smile slightly as you walk into the kitchen, now you only had one thing to worry about—your first day of your new school tomorrow.

A/N: wooah first chapter! if you see any grammer mistakes im sorry LMFAO , second chapter will be up by wednesday!

next | masterlist

TAGS: @1ndee ( ask 2 be added! )

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

LOVE TO HATE YOU ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

pairing: percy jackson x demeter!fem!reader

warnings: swearing + minor violence (punches basically)

a/n: i wanted to write some percy jackson enemies to lovers (sorta) so here we are!! i don't know how i feel about this one but enjoy! (also im changing the layout of my fics - in case you couldn't already tell :))

look.

when percy showed up for sword training this morning, the last thing he was expecting was to be paired with you.

i mean hey! at least he could take his anger out on you and nobody would notice or care for that matter - well y'know... except you.

being thrown on you ass for the fifteenth time in a row really wasn't on your agenda for today. and you'd had enough.

"goddamnit jackson!" you yell when you get up again. "what the hell is wrong with you?"

"right back at you y/l/n!" percy hisses.

seething you narrow your eyes at him. "i swear to fucking god, i'm going to kick your ass."

"right, cause you seem to be doing really well at that."

you launch at percy. why? why is he like this? why is he popular and nice to everybody but you? why?? why is he infuriatingly handsome? from his soft looking hair, to his blue-green eyes- wait, what?

where'd that come from?

you're supposed to be angry at him.

your fist connects with percy's jaw and he stumbles back in shock. his eyes land on you in a deadly promise as he flys at you himself.

"you're honestly so annoying, i don't know how i put up with you," he sends a punch to your face and your head snaps back, your eyes filling with tears. fucking hell.

arms wrap around you then, pulling you back from attacking percy more. you swing your arm back accidentally knocking the person in the face causing them to cry out. "oh shit! im so sorry!" you exclaim turning around to comfort annabeth.

"fuck annabeth, im so sorry."

you're a child of demeter, the most violent thoughts you've had all week is how you accidentally made a strawberry explode. you shouldn't be thinking about how the next time percy comes near you, you're going to strangle him with the nearest vine. no, scratch that you're going to strangle him reguardless.

you crouch down next to annabeth worry in you eyes, "are you okay?"

annabeth nods and takes your hand when you offer to help her up. "i'm fine, but you two," she says waving a hand between percy - whose still pissed by the way - and you. "need to sort out whatever shit you're fighting over."

percy looks over at you a scowl etched on his face and his arm still captured by luke. "yeah fine whatever." he throws his sword down on the ground before stalking away growling about how everything's going to shit.

"what is with him today?" luke asks walking over and picking up percy's sword.

"i don't know!" you huff exasperated. "he's been like this all morning. i was the one on the receiving end of it!"

"well i'm like ninety percent sure punching him wasn't the best way to go about that," luke says still watching percy walk away.

"well you try being kicked on your ass fifteen times in a row," you snap shoving past grover. a little part of you is sorry for how you're treating them but honestly you're so sick of the way percy treats you.

the way he's kind and caring to everyone else but you. the way he always calls you names and groans whenever you're paired up. the way he rolls his eyes whenever you talk never bothering to listen.

it pisses you off how he's attentive to other campers, how he has the prettiest smile and looks amazing in that navy shir- woah woah woah what?

nope, you're not even going to think about that. about the crush you've had on him ever since he arrived at camp. you two had gotten along for the first few days and then, boom, he's hated you ever since.

you dont even know what you did to make him suddenly hate you. but deep down, you've always had a feeling that maybe he knows about your feelings - though you've never, ever, said anything about them - and they repulse him. so to cover that up you've gone right ahead and hated him - for the most part - back.

you slam the door shut of your cabin and flop onto your bed groaning loudly into your pillow. mostly out of annoyance a little out of actual pain. you slowly start to drift off then only realising you've fallen asleep when your sibling gently shakes you awake.

"y/n? its dinner time."

you groan softly and thank the girl for waking you before making your way to the mess hall laughing at the jokes your siblings are making, and feeling much calmer - and not violent.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

there are perks to living in a cabin all by yourself. percy found this out a few weeks after tyson had left - yes he misses tyson - but having a cabin to freely scream into a pillow, was pretty neat as well.

gods percy hated y/n sometimes.

she was the most annoying, know-it-all, shrill, person ever. like seriously how is she so talented at annoying him? its like a god given gift.

whipping his pillow back onto his bed percy sinks down onto the mattress feeling it dip with his weight. he hated how he reacted earlier.

did he seriously fucking punch you? did he actually punch a girl? anybody's mom would be disappointed in them if they found out their son punched a girl, but sally jackson? you'd have to come up with a whole new word for what she'd feel.

gods he was stupid.

he fucking punched a girl.

even worse he punched y/n.

the first thing he did then was pick up a discarded drachma and send an iris message to his mom.

when sally turned around to see percy, her face changed instantly from excited to be getting a call to worry.

"percy? whats wrong?"

"i fucked up mom."

"language," his mom scolded. "but how did you mess up?"

percy hesitated not wanting to tell his mom that he hit a girl. "i hurt y/n."

"y/n?" sally's eyes flash with surprise. over the years she'd heard of the infamous y/n. percy would always complain about her, or just talk about her. but no matter the time he'd always bring her up in a conversation - i mean sure most of the time he was whining about how she'd pissed him off, but he'd still talk about her.

"yeah, i- i don't know what to do."

sally's eyes soften, when she sees the way percy is distressed. "you could apologise?"

percy looks down and runs his hands through his hair. "i don't think she'd believe me, mom."

"it's always better to try, i'm sure even though she might not show it, y/n would appreciate it." she purses her lips trying to hide a smile as she thought of what to say next. "besides i thought we didn't like y/n."

percy's head snaps up and he shrugs. "we don't... not like her," he starts. "we- i- i just hated the way she fit into camp, when i first came here. she was like their perfect camper, she even went to the lenghts of being nice to me! but i just, ugh." percy sighs. "it was always so hard for me to see her being so comfortable with everyone, she's only been at camp for like three weeks more than me and she was already practically ruling the place!"

he stands up starting to pace the room as sally sits patiently listening to him. "and then i iced her out and started treating her like shit - i know, sorry about the swearing - and she started acting the same way towards me so there was no way i could just- uh." he runs his hands through his hair for like the millionth time. "i just messed up. and now whenever i talk to her i can practically feel her dislike towards me."

sally is quiet for a moment and when she does finally speak, she says something that percy didn't expect. "do you like her?"

"i- what?" his bewildered expression facing sally.

"do you like y/n?"

a frown crease percy's forehead, and just as he's about to answer the door to his cabin swings open and annabeth and luke storm inside.

"i'll leave you guys to it! love you percy, talk soon," sally smiles from behind percy and the iris message dissolves.

"you need to go apologise to y/n right now," annabeth huffs.

"hey! she hit me first!" percy defends.

"yes i know, luke and i have just given her this exact talk. so listen percy jackson, you, are going to grow a pair of balls and talk to y/n. no fucking name calling or bickering, just plain talking. and if you don't, i'm going to sneak in here in the middle of the night and cut your dick off."

luke clears his throat and places a hand on annabeth's shoulder pulling her back. "okay... annabeth, take a chill pill." he turns back to you. "but seriously jackson, annabeths right - minus the dick cutting and shit - talk to the girl."

sighing percy just looks up not bothering to even fight anymore.

"i'll take that dejected sigh as a hell yeah," annabeth smiles. "y/n will be waiting for you at the end of the dock after dinner - which by the way is right now."

without even giving him the chance to object annabeth - and luke, i guess - usher percy out of the cabin and to the mess hall, snickering behind him about how he's secretly in love with y/n.

which....

'do you like y/n?' his mom's question flits into his mind.

does he?

maybe on some level he's had a crush on her since he came to camp.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

the water lapped at the edge of the dock posts.

you had been sitting here for five minutes - as per a very huffy and flustered annabeth's request - why you're sitting here? you actually don't know.

the moonlight shines down on the earth and you smile at the serenity of the moment. footsteps sound from behind you and you don't bother looking back - thinking its just annabeth coming to tell you why she wants you to wait here.

but the second his scent hits you, you tense up, his body radiating heat when he sits down next to you.

"hi."

you turn to face him. "hey." you're both quiet for a moment. "annabeth set you up too?"

percy nods and chuckles, "gotta love when she meddles."

you shoot him a look. "when annabeth meddles, you know things are either going horribly wrong or horribly wrong."

percy laughs and you can't help but smile at how simple the moment is and that you're not arguing.

"i'm sorry."

"i'm so sorry."

you both freeze at your double apology and look at one another. a new tension settling over the both of you. not the fierce type when you're both angry at the other, but a new type, a gentler one.

resting your hand on the dock you look out to the water, tensing up when you feel a warm hand cover your own.

your buried feelings rise very close to the surface and you curiously look over to percy, to find him earnestly looking at you.

"y/n... im so fucking sorry about earlier."

"hey its not entirely your fault," you offer. "i mean i punched you first."

"no, thats not it, i mean yeah, i'm very sorry about this morning, but i'm also sorry for the last like four years. i treated you ike dog shit and i have no excuse for it."

your soft eyes nearly send percy over the edge of the dock. he was finally doing this, he was finally going to tell you the truth.

"when you came to camp a few weeks ahead of me, i was jealous at how fast you had managed to fit in, how quick everyone seemed to accept you. it made me angry and i started to resent you," you suck in a breath at percy's explanation. "i resented you for like three weeks tops, by the way, and when you started to treat me the same way i thought you hated me too. by the time i had found my place in camp and had finally started to relax, it was too late for me to just stop suddenly acting shit towards you." percy rushes out. "so i kept treating you that way, i called you names and started fights with you because having any of your focus on me - even if it was bad - was worth it. i hated you because you were practically perfect and i could see it in every way. i hated you most of all because i didn't hate you at all."

the air is sucked out from between you.

"w-what?" you whisper. "you don't hate me?"

"no."

"i don't hate you either!" you rush out suddenly needing him to know. you're like two seconds off floating off the earth, the warmth of his hand practically grounding you to the dock.

percy's heart swells, "you don't?" his voice is whisper soft.

"no."

percy seizing his chance, slides closer to you angling his head towards your in question as he stares at your mouth.

you catching on quickly, nodding to him, grinning internally at how this moment - one you've dreamed of for years is finally about to happen.

he presses a soft kiss to your mouth, his hands shooting to the sides of your face holding you as if you're the worlds most precious gem. fireworks explode low in your stomach as if to remind you that you're kissing percy jackson, you're kissing percy jackson!!

your hand makes its way to the back of his neck holding him there and pulling him impeccably closer. your heart rockets when you pull back for air and percy makes a whining noise.

you shuffle closer to him then, basking in his warmth. only now just noticing the small vines and flowers that have twisted their way onto the dock and curled around your ankles.

grinning percy turns back to you running a hand on the back of your head and pulling you back for another kiss.

somewhere in the back ground you can hear annabeth victory cheering and laughing with luke but you don't care. at this point nothing could tear you away from the boy who's kissing you, who's holding you with such reverence you'd think he was holding a priceless artifact.

a/n: lol sorry this was so long (un-edited btw!! i stayed up wayyyy too late to even think about editing this lol)

© strawberries-and-summer-days please do not steal, use or repost my works.

[hatsukeii]

i think i’m gonna pick up a 🎸 with a few 🎵 decorations including a ‘rivals to lovers’ guitar pick and a ‘cooking class au’ strap. and lately i’ve heard that osamu is my biggest fan ;)

got it! the band you’ve joined is…

hell’s kitchen / timeskip!osamu miya x reader

genre(s): fluff, slight crack, rivals to possible? lovers, culinary class au! food!

warning(s): nothing!! im worried that osamu might be ooc here or it's not rivalry enough but i hope it works out!>!!>!

wc: ~1.7k

your first gig is at…a culinary class?!

setlist:

🎵girlfriend, hemlocke springs

🎵comedy, gen hoshino

🎵get him back!,olivia rodrigo

How many things can someone possibly put in a rice ball? To slurp, or not to slurp? Better yet, is slapping somebody with a whole head of pickled cabbage a viable course of action?

It's humiliating, almost, paired with Osamu Miya in every culinary class. Not because of his lack of skill- he's good, too good even. But he smacks his tongue audibly against the roof of his mouth every time he digs into your cooking, slurps until showers of broth come spitting from the bowl, wipes his hands on his apron, slathering emulsifications of aioli and hollandaise onto rough canvas fabric, then grabs your waist to walk behind you. Every quirk of his is incomplete without his signature, shit-eating smirk. Every class has you considering swinging whatever tool you have in hand into his face.

Unfortunately, that day is not today. Onigiri only requires hands, and seeing that Osamu has formed six seemingly perfect balls of seaweed wrapped rice, he is clearly much better at using them than you are. Handiwork training is what today's chef called this atrocity. To move beyond being a cook to a chef, you must learn the first tool of cooking- your hands, he said. From the corner of your eye, you catch Osamu's amused glances towards the two funky looking shapes on your plate, and the panicked pulses of your palms against a handful of slippery, seasoned rice. He picks up one of the six onigiri of his own, the rounded tip of the triangle disappearing into his mouth as he chews, agonisingly slowly, smacking his tongue the way he knows you hate. A grumble elicits from your throat, your hands squeezing tighter against the sticky grains in your grasp, only for more chunks to fall apart.

"Let me help."

"No."

"Whatever you say."

He walks over now, biting a second corner off his onigiri as his hips lean against your side of the counter. His lips smack together obnoxiously, teeth squelching and grinding at rice and salmon. You irk your brows when the rice in your grasp seems to stop sticking to each other. It takes one look at your now opaque bowl of water for you to realise that you've washed all the starch off in your attempts to release the grains from your palms. Osamu figured it out when you dipped your hand into the bowl for the seventh time.

"Mix it into the rest of the rice that you have. That helps."

You hate that he's right, because when you do what he's told you to, the rest of the rice comes around the wet grains and sticks to them like they're supposed to. He pops the rest of his onigiri into his mouth, swiping his hands together before rubbing them over the sides of his rice-decorated apron. You try again, scooping up a lukewarm ball of rice. Flattening it against your palm, you search for the bowl of salmon, eyes landing on an empty bowl adorned with sad, pink flakes of salt-grilled fish. Osamu's already sliding the rest of his salmon over the counter.

"Need extra?" His mouth is still stuffed, a single piece of rice sticks to the corner of his mouth.

"Thanks."

You dump a spoonful of salmon into the centre of your rice pattie, before sticking your free hand into the water and folding your palms into each other. The rice sticks to your fingers when you pull away, and you groan, pushing harder. At that, grains begin to crack away from the ball, bits of salmon beginning to stick out from the bottom. Osamu swallows half of the contents in his mouth, his cheek jutting out like a hamster hoarding sunflower seeds. He watches your inexperienced hands, clawing at and tossing the rice to shape it, and he reaches over to rinse his hands over the sink.

"Just let me help you out."

Grains of jasmine rice stick to his wet palms that come around your hands, squeezing and pushing at a ball of rice that falls apart at each movement. The fuzz of his rolled up sweater sleeves rubs against your forearms as his fingers work their way onto yours. Starchy water trickles down the back of your hand when he forces them to loosen around the mess of grilled salmon and rice, and you sigh in defeat, letting him move you as he pleases.

"Look, I'm not sure why you dislike me so much."

"I don't."

He chuckles, pushing your hands into the rice now. You study the pressure he applies to the ball of rice, learn the shape of his fingers around yours, memorise the cup of his palms around the back of your own.

"Yes, you do. You always look at me like-"

You snap your head around to meet his eyes, and he's so close that for the first time, you have to angle your head to look up at him. He's not smirking anymore, moreso observing. You aren't sure what there is to observe on your face, but it's welcome nevertheless.

"Like what?"

He purses his lips, huffing out a dejected sigh.

"Like that."

He lets go of your hands, stepping backwards, and you hold the perfectly moulded onigiri up to eye level. The rice is glossy in a sheen of vinegar and water, yet pertains its fluffiness in the tack of starch against your fingers. The handiwork of a true chef.

"You're so good at this class that I can't even get annoyed at you openly. It's infuriating."

"What did I ever do to you?"

You laugh sarcastically, waving the newly formed onigiri in Osamu’s face, before taking a bite. He laughs, mouth forming a taunting oh when you smack your lips against each other the way that he does, the flakiness of salmon spreading char and salt across your tastebuds. Then, you place the onigiri aside, rubbing your hands up and down your pristine apron, before grabbing his waist to move him to the side so you can walk past, making sure bits of rice and fish stick to his apron. He chuckles, clapping tantalisingly slowly at your imitation of his habits. You give him a fake bow, and he drops his hands to his hips, shrugging.

"That's it?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Petty rivalry and kitchen hygiene."

"Mind you, I am very hygienic. My shop hasn't been shut down for a reason."

You watch Osamu's hands dig into the remaining portion of your rice, his tongue sticking out as he moulds and shapes it into another perfectly rounded triangle. You scoff at his defensiveness, arms crossed in front of you. He wraps a rectangle of seaweed across the centre of the rice ball, and holds it up to your face. It is swiped from his fingers by your own, and you stuff half of it into your mouth, chewing without a sound and swallowing the mouthful.

"You do not have a shop."

"Where'd you think I learned how to do all this?" His hands shoot out to wave at his perfect collection of hand-made onigiri, and you sigh, rolling your head to the side.

"Okay, sure. You have a shop. It's a surprise you can be this annoying and keep it running."

"Loosen up, I just wipe my hands on my apron and eat loud. It's not like I'm spitting in my food. Besides, being that uptight ends up with your onigiri coming out more like...that." His head nods towards the funky ones on your plate, bits of fish sticking from the crevices between individual grains of rice. You shrug in acceptance, taking another bite from his onigiri. Osamu clicks his tongue, grabbing your wrist to bring the rice ball to his mouth instead, consuming the final corner of the triangle in its entirety. He swallows it with a hum, his fingers still around your wrist. He's not letting go. Now, you're interested.

"Should I pay you a visit? Need to see for myself that you're running it to safety standards."

"Are you flirting with me? Because you should keep going."

You roll your eyes when you see him wink at you from above your hand, but an toothy grin creeps its way onto your face, and Osamu smiles at his tactics.

"Whatever you say, Miya." His last name finally makes it out of your mouth for the first time since the two of you have been put together for this course, and he drops your wrist.

"You know, I could teach you how to make those onigiris properly if you show up to Onigiri Miya. You'd be almost as good as me by the end of it."

You flick a grain of rice at him, and it sticks to his apron unceremoniously. He's even named the shop after his family name. How cute. Despicable.

"Don't try your luck, chef."

"Chef? High praise."

The supervising chef sounds a bell, harsh waves of high pitched ringing echoing throughout the room. And as Osamu scrubs at bowls and lathers soapy water onto plates, he watches you tap at your phone with clean hands. Your sink is already empty, the two bowls and one plate that you used in total sitting on the drying rack already. Your onigiris sit in a takeout container, lined up neatly in two rows. His own are still on their plate, and he reminds himself to grab a takeout box for himself. You look up to Osamu, and he looks back at his wet hands and soapy dishes.

"Found you online. I'll be checking your place out soon." You remark at him, and the corners of his mouth curl up into a grin.

"You sure you're not there to check me out instead?" You snicker at his blatant flirtations, and pretend that he's completely incorrect.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves now, Miya."

You shove your phone back into your pocket, swipe an onigiri off his plate, and wave at him as you turn your back to leave.

Osamu watches your silhouette push open the door as he slots his dishes into the drying rack. He hopes that you'll become his favourite regular at Onigiri Miya.

author's note:

i just KNOW im gonna have so much fun writing for this event ngl i hope i get more so i can see what people come up with but I HOPE U LIKE THIS!!! rivalry is more like friendly banter here and lovers is more like he's into you and you're slowly getting into the grroove of it but hopefully you enjoyed it regardless my bbs<333 i'd frequent onigiri miya ngl i love onigiri sm also hell's kitchen needs to be the name of a band icl

anyways tags!!

@chuuya-brainrot @staraxiaa @wyrcan @4ngelfries @catsoupki @bailey-reeds @fiannee @kuroppiii @akaakeis @hiraethwa @zzwon

interested in joining a band? come on over to the build-a-band 900 !!

[krisdreaming]

hello! this is fr my first time requesting for a oneshot. i have this scenario that i CANT get out of my head and i really love how you articulate things so 😁😁😁

basically it is volleyball national match between japan and argentina where reader is a huge oikawa fan but is engaged to osamu. they went to check on atsumu before the game and reader BEGS atsumu to get them a pic with oikawa in which atsumu replies with; " 'samu are you hearing this?!" and osamu goes "theyre my fiancee. believe me, im more pissed than you are." both of the twins are half-jokingly upset that reader is more happy to see oikawa but reader made it clear that they are rooting for japan!

reader ends up getting a pic with oikawa, osamu being the one taking the pic with a scowl on his face.

i just thought it would be funny hehe

Hihi anon, I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get to this one ;-; If you're reading this, you should know that it's been in the back of my mind ever since you first sent it. I've always been intending to write it, and I was just waiting for the perfect inspiration. And it finally hit me! It's Olympics time baby.

Pairing: Miya Osamu x gn!reader (but... it's not really the main focus?)

WC: 1k

"What did ya just ask me?" Osamu runs his fingers through his still-wet hair. He just stepped out of the bathroom, and you dropped a bomb on him.

"I said, do you think Atsumu can get me in to meet Oikawa Tooru tomorrow?" You bounce eagerly on the hotel bed.

"Ya do know Oikawa is on the opposite team, right?" Osamu asks slowly, and you flop back onto the bed with a groan.

"Of course, I'm not an idiot! It's just - you know I went to Aoba Johsai. I was a first year when Oikawa was a third year, so obviously I never actually met him, but my friends and I were kind of obsessed with him," You actually giggle. "Just imagine the looks on their faces when I get a photo with him!"

"It's like ya don't know my brother at all," Osamu sighs as he lifts the covers to crawl in bed. You scramble up and scoot in next to him. "Do ya know what it's gonna do to him if ya ask him that?"

"He's a big boy," You say breezily. "I think he can handle it."

Osamu just shakes his head, leaning over to turn off the lamp. "Just make sure he knows it was all your idea," He says pointedly, pulling the blanket up and settling back against his pillows.

"Just think," You sigh, snuggling your cheek against his bicep, "Tomorrow I'm going to meet the Oikawa Tooru."

"Yer already practically related to the Miya Atsumu. Isn't that enough?" He grumbles.

"He's old news," You chuckle, and Osamu huffs what could almost be considered a laugh through his nose.

"Whatever. Just get some sleep. Big day tomorrow." He presses a kiss to your lips. You settle in against his chest, but you aren't feeling very tired at all.

The next morning, Osamu grips your hand tight as you wind your way through the Olympic stadium. It's so full of people and sounds and lights, it almost makes you dizzy. Eventually, you hear Atsumu bellow your and Osamu's names.

"You're here!" He pulls you both into a bone crushing hug. "Ya all ready to cheer for me? I want ta hear ya yelling all the way on the court." He grins.

"Of course!" You say, completely sincere. "You're gonna kill it today, 'Tsumu." You sock him on the arm. He almost turns to go, but you stop him.

"Wait, 'Tsumu!" You say. "I've got a teeny, tiny favor to ask you." He narrows his eyes, and Osamu backs slightly away, as if denying any kind of association with you in this moment.

"What kinda favor?" He asks slowly. Your grin widens.

"Is there any way you can get me in to meet Oikawa Tooru?" You ask, clasping your hands in front of yourself and pasting on your best puppy dog look. Atsumu immediately swings around to glare at Osamu, who throws his hands up in defense.

"Are ya hearin' this?" He almost yells.

"I've been hearin' it for the last 24 hours," Osamu exaggerates drily. "And it wasn't my idea, 'Tsumu! Swear! Ya think I want my fiancée meetin' that pretty boy?"

Atsumu sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. "Yer lucky I love ya," He finally bites out, and you can't hold back your excited squeak.

"Seriously?! Thanks, 'Tsumu!" You throw your arms around him, and he huffs.

"Guess we gotta hurry," He grumbles, turning on his heel. You grab for Osamu and practically drag him along behind you. Before you know it, you're surrounded with the team Argentina colors.

"Hiya," Atsumu approaches one of the team's managers and gestures to you, "Is Oikawa-san around? Got somebody that'd like to meet him."

"Oh? Someone looking for me?" At the sound of his voice, you turn, suddenly feeling like you're back in high school again, and just a little bit star struck.

"Oikawa-san!" You blurt out, "I was such a huge fan of yours in high school!" You can hear Atsumu feign a gag behind you, but you ignore him.

"No way, really?" Oikawa laughs, delighted. "I don't always get to meet such dedicated fans." He turns and rattles off something in Spanish to someone behind him. She produces a glossy photograph, and he scribbles his signature across it.

"Oh, wow," You gush, carefully gripping the photo so as not to smudge the fresh autograph.

"Hey, you got your phone there? We can get a quick picture." You pull it from your pocket immediately, pulling up the camera with shaky hands. Your friends are going to lose their minds.

"Here," Oikawa hands your phone to the same manager who'd just handed him the photo, and she holds it up, ready to snap the photo. When you turn to pose with him, you catch a glimpse of Osamu, arms crossed over his chest. The frown crinkling his brow is absolutely adorable. Atsumu, meanwhile, is cradling his forehead in his palm.

Oikawa slides his arm around you, the two of you smile, and that quickly, the photo is snapped.

"Thank you so much!" You retrieve your phone. "My friends aren't gonna believe this. This was so great of you, Oikawa-san."

"No problem," He gives his hand a wave, "Can I count on you cheering for me?" He asks, flashing you one of his signature grins. You feel your smile falter.

"Sorry," You say, biting your lip, "That's one thing I can't do."

His eyes dart to the twins, and to your surprise, he barks out a laugh. "Guess I should have expected that! He's a lucky guy to have you cheering for him."

"My future brother-in-law," You explain quickly, feeling Osamu's eyes boring into you. Oikawa laughs again, delighted.

"Don't you worry. I'll give him hell just for you." He winks, and you can't help but laugh at that.

"Thanks again!" You say quickly.

"Anytime," He says amiably, turning back to his team.

The twins descend on you immediately. You proudly display the photo on your phone, but Atsumu reaches for the signed photo in your hand.

"What the hell did ya need ta get his autograph for?" Atsumu grumbles.

"Oi!" Osamu reaches for your phone and peers a little closer at the photo. "Is that his hand on yer hip?"

You link your arms through both of theirs appeasingly, grinning widely. Would you look at that? You've managed to make both Miya twins jealous at once.

[ma1dita]

heavy hitter

part one can be found here!

this was a request, find it here!

words: 3.5k (yall im so sorry)

summary: james potter x beater!reader James might’ve won the game, but he needs to let people know he has the girl too.

warnings: smut. minors DNI. afab!reader, p in v, pwp, unprotected sex (wrap b4 u tap) locker room sex, creampie, oral (m!receiving) reader is a brat… this is nasty don’t look at me (jesus tagging this is crazy)

a/n: …. what plot? i wanted to write angst again but got bored so… *jazz hands* erm…. this is my first smut fic, i’ll go crawl in a hole now

(posted 12/19/23 not edited will return)

—

Hitting the shower was James’ chance of washing his anger away before seeing you again tonight. He always gave quidditch his 110% percent, but something animalistic rose out of him when he saw you get manhandled by Wilkins, his team keeper. And regardless of the Gryffindor win, he was planning to chew off his ear later, whether it be with extra laps at the next practice or a good ol’ fashioned wallop to the head. But this anger wasn’t due to a foul play, not even because you got hurt (your arm was clearly fine since you used it to swing your bat at Wilkins’ head after). What got James mad was the fact you ripped your jersey.

No, actually, it was definitely because of what happened after that.

He’s not the type of boyfriend to decline you showing a little extra skin, but any fantasy that entered his mind was quickly cleared away when he saw you re-emerge from the locker rooms wearing your teammate’s jersey. McGonagall said it would be the only way to let you play the rest of the game since there’s no magic allowed on the field, but ever the rulebreaker, James thought that was absolute bullshit.

He rinses the shampoo out of his mop of curls as he thinks about that tosser whose name he can’t even remember. The guy was way too eager to give you his jersey, flirting with you at practices and just not taking a hint. Everyone knew you’d been dating him for a while now, and of course, James knows you can handle yourself, but there are just some things he can’t let slide. Namely, assholes that can’t take a hint. Also, he was a benchwarmer at most. Cocky motherfucker.

Watching you fly around with some other guy’s last name on your back did terrible things to James’ ego. The blur of suds pool at his feet, circling down the drain as he takes a deep breath. He’s got it bad for you, but luckily you like him enough to call him yours.

The Gryffindor locker room was empty by now with everyone too eager to celebrate their win. It was his last year as team captain and at Hogwarts in general, so he should be right up there drinking with all of them, but James really needed to let off some steam.

“Babe?” Your voice calls from the doorway, echoing against the empty walls. Condensation drips off the door handle as you take a peek to see the one shower going in the corner. What was taking him so long? You saw the rest of the team leave without him and they were trying to drag you to celebrate with them, but with your boyfriend still drowning himself in the stall….

“Over here love,” he calls out, hearing your sandals clomp against the wet tile as you turn the corner.

“You almost done? We have a party to get to, Jamie.”

The falling water makes it a bit hard to hear you, so he pops his head out from behind the curtain and squints at your frame. You giggle and pull his chin closer for a few quick kisses.

“Is that your jersey?”

His lips feel so soft against yours as you get distracted, slipping your tongue into his mouth instead of giving him a proper answer. Godric you’re good at that. James’ wet hand quickly pushes the curtain open grabbing at your ass and tucking you against his naked body, soaking the front of you in the process. A muffled yelp escapes you as your body adjusts to the temperature and the feeling of his semi-hard dick against your front.

“No, coach still has mine and I have to return this to Steven after.” You say calmly, smiling against his cheek as he sucks at your neck. He would’ve enjoyed getting lost in the scent of your still-damp hair, but your statement makes him stop as he bites at your pulse point. A whimper leaves your mouth.

“Why the fuck are you still wearing whatshisname’s jersey?”

James’s hands trail up your back to feel the embroidered letters against your back, and he swears his eye twitches. The incredulous look on his face makes you hold back your laughter.

“Steven. You know him! Don’t tell me this is a big deal for you, baby. You know I couldn’t magically fix mine during the game…”

Your hands trace down his slippery biceps as he unconsciously ruts against your belly, cock now at full attention from rubbing up against you. Your nipples are pebbled up under the material of the jersey, soaked from your less-than-innocent embrace, and he lifts a hand to brush over them, making you groan.

“Definitely not. I wouldn’t get jealous of a prick like him…” He scoffs, hands going back down to fist the fabric over your hips, “Not a big deal at all.”

“Mhmmm… I’ve got a way to make it up to you, even if it’s not a big deal.” You muse, fingers reaching to tease his swollen head as James exhales harshly.

“I’d hope this is a big deal for you, baby. Would want nothing more,” he breathes, pushing your back against the wall.

“You just want me to say your dick is big.”

The both of you laugh before he tugs the jersey over your head, ripping it in the process.

“James!”

He shrugs, burrowing his head into your breasts and lapping at your right bud. You moan, shoving your shorts down past your ankles before pulling his hair away from your chest.

“Mmmm…fuck, babe. I’m supposed to be congratulating you right now!”

Your hands push at his torso slightly as you fall to your knees, placing yourself onto your sandals. Gentle hands graze his thighs, as he feels your nose bump into his cock. The water hits James’ back perfectly, and the sensation of your hand pumping and sliding along his length makes him almost feral, shutting his eyes in pleasure.

“You played so well today baby… deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

Your tongue slips out from behind your lips to lick the underside of his length, holding yourself there as you look up at him to answer. Droplets cascade down his pecs as he breathes heavily at the feeling, precum leaking from his cockhead. James hisses as you tap him against your tongue.

“Fuck, baby. Need your mouth right now.” He can feel you grin against his girth before his cock disappears into your mouth, hot and warm, and his instinct is to grab your hair. Goosebumps rise on the parts of him untouched by the shower. Your throat rumbles with a groan as you let him work himself down into your throat, the resistance waning as your jaw slackens. Cheeks hollowing, your lips retract with a pop.

“Like that, Jamie?” you say, reaching around to massage his balls as your tongue continues to play with the long vein that runs along the surface of his cock. It’s hard to fit all of him in your mouth, fingers barely able to wrap around it, much less the rest of you. His hand massages the part where your mouth hinges open, squeezing your cheeks around him as he fucks into you with a bated sigh.

“You always take me so well, baby. You can handle more, that’s it,” he pants, biting his lip as you concentrate real hard on letting him use you, the corners of your eyes watering. His heart is racing now as his hips piston to the noises that come gurgling from your throat and he almost slips before his reflexes help him catch the back of your head before it bangs into the stall wall. A loud moan sputters from around his cock as your eyes roll back, and the lack of oxygen makes you press your fingernails into his quads harshly.

He pulls out from between your lips, cradling your chin as the both of you catch your breath, coughing a little.

“You okay? Mouth so good I lost my footing.” All you can do is laugh hoarsely as he grins boyishly before you realize he’s not wearing his glasses.

“Can you even see me? S’bit cold down here, Mr. MVP.”

He pulls you up, strong hands lifting you at your armpits until you stand in front of him, reaching over to grab his glasses from the shower shelf. You slide them on as water sprays onto them slightly as he shifts, blinking at you in clearer vision.

“There’s my boy,” you whisper, cupping his jaw and slotting your lips between his once more. You could kiss James forever, all muscles and hard exterior, but everything else, his lips down to his insides feel and go soft for you. He groans lowly and it rumbles between the both of you, before the slick motions against your core remind you of something else that’s really hard right now.

“All for you,” he sighs, hands gripping onto your hips with a force that you think they’ll bruise tomorrow, and you love having physical reminders of him wherever you go. Huh, maybe he is jealous. And if not, he’s possessive. It makes your cunt pulse harder just thinking about it, your arousal helping his head slide nicely against your bundle of nerves and the softness of your stomach.

“I’m yours, you know that right?” Not replying, he instead inhales the sweat from your neck, following it with a dip of his tongue up towards your ear.

“James.”

Your boyfriend scoffs lightly, a small smirk on his face as he pulls your chin up to meet him at eye level. You’re so gorgeous like this, just letting him do what he wants to you. Always so reassuring of his needs. His thumb rubs against your bottom lip before you open your mouth and swirl your tongue around clean skin.

“Just feels like I have to remind you sometimes, pretty girl. Can’t let everyone walk around thinking you’re not mine.”

“I wouldn’t mind a reminder. Some marks would be nice too,” you grin, biting at his lip while your hands stroke him slowly, your own knees buckling in excitement.

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Brat.” James hoists your legs over his hips, slamming your back into the wall as you squeak. Sandwiched between the warmth of his body and the cold of the shower wall, your eyes roll back as he eases his cock between your dripping folds, moans falling from your lips when he sinks into you, inch by inch.

His girth always has a way of stretching you open, and every time feels like the first as he taps at your thigh reminding you to take deep breaths. Fuck the party, you could stay here all night.

“Fill you up so nicely…we’re almost there, good girl.” His voice shakes, wanting to slam the rest of him straight into your cervix.

Your hands are gripping his shoulders until you finally feel him nudge the deepest parts of you, and you sigh when it all fits. Perfect.

“Always so big Jamie. Almost too much.” He kisses your cheek, hips starting to create a rhythm as he mutters into your ear.

“Not too much for my girl. Just perfect. Perfect pussy for this cock. All for you,” he grits, skin sliding and slapping as your thighs get pressed into your chest with the intense force he’s plunging into your guts.

“James, fuck….fuck you’re so deep! Feels so fucking good!” Filthy whimpers leave you and he loves the sound of your desperation when he’s inside of you like this. Too bad there’s no one else here to hear it. If Steven could only see you now.

“Such a good cunt for me to use. Only mine.”

He gasps for air as his feet slip against the tile once more, his heavy breathing fogging up his glasses, and his hold on you just as tight as your grip on his cock. Shit. His heart almost fell through his ass.

Your eyes open to see him struggling and a giggle escapes your mouth as you watch the stupid fucked out look on his face.

“How do people even fuck in the shower? This shit’s dangerous. Don't wanna maim the Gryffindor captain again.”

Your laughter sends jolts down to his throbbing shaft and he shakes his head with a smile, parting the curtain with one hand before carrying you still impaled on him towards the metal benches, placing you down softly.

“At least you finally admit it was your fault, baby. Could barely see straight for a week after.”

He wipes his glasses between his fingers before gazing at you lying across the bench, legs spread and ready for him. What a woman.

“And here I am hoping that when you’re done with me I won’t be able to walk for a week after,” you breathe, hands squeezing your tits as his pupils dilate further at the sight of you. What a fucking witch!

“Fucking hell, you know I love you, right?”

James positions himself over you, kissing your ankle as he sheathes himself back into your sex, resuming his brutal pace and hurtling you quickly towards your peak.

“Y-yes! Merlin, fuck I… looove you!” you wail, hips rolling to meet his and his balls strike your ass hard with each thrust. Your insides are being shifted around with him spearing your cervix like this and there’s nothing in this world that you could name that’s able to compare to how he makes you feel.

Your pussy contracts as he somehow nestles himself deeper, body trembling in this position as he throws your left leg over his shoulder, lips chasing your nipples trying to suck the life out of you, and perhaps that was his plan so you could forget anyone else but him.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop, James. Don’t you fucking DARE!” you beg, clawing your way down his back, making him nip at you in pleasure as you draw pinpricks of blood.

The tight pressure of release starts creeping at your core, making you squirm under him but he pins your waist down harder to the bench, the metal leaving prints against your flesh. His hands press harder on your stomach, silently encouraging you to cum and you can feel the imprint of his dick bulging from inside your stomach.

“Don’t struggle for me baby, just let it go. I know you wanna cum…. That’s it.” James praises in a shattered breath, watching you writhe underneath him as he holds you close. Your legs are shaking as your vision goes black for a moment, cunt gushing with release and squirt coats his pubic hair as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You lay there, catching your breath as the stars clear from your vision, and you look up at him stroking himself to the sight of you coming undone.

“Sheesh, look at the mess you made. You okay?”

“More than okay, Jamie. Need you to finish the job,” you tease, toes grazing the skin of his hip and he slaps at your thigh with a smile.

“Insatiable minx. Turn around then, ass up f’me.”

You do as he says, getting on all fours and showing him the perfect round of your asscheeks, covered in milky residue from your recent orgasm, but you turn to look at him when he doesn’t come near.

“Babe?”

His locker clinks open as he pulls a fresh jersey out, walking back to you and guiding it over your head and arms as you smile, pecking his cheek. Your silly boy. There was no way you actually thought you hated him this time last year with how sweet he really is. His large hand grazes the embroidered patches now resting on your back, POTTER, in huge white letters, CAPTAIN, now resting at the base of your spine.

James’ eyes drift lower and he hums at the sight of you perched on the bench, dropping his face to your throbbing holes and taking a long swipe with the flat of his tongue as he savors your taste along with the sounds of your whining. From your swollen clit to the ring of your asshole he’s languishing in a flavor that’s so uniquely you, and he pulls back, smacking his lips.

“Scrumptious. How are you hotter with clothes on?” James grins, taking a playful bite of an asscheek before he slaps it lightly and stuffs you deep, without any further hesitation. Your sarcastic reply is lost in a moan that makes your toes curl.

He works you open onto his cock again, your back arching desperately to be as close as possible and his hand presses you down, sliding up your spine until his fingers curl around strands of your hair. Tits swinging until they’re crushed against the bench, your face is smooshed as you mumble pathetically in his grasp.

“What was that baby? Can’t hear you well…” He spits at you, and if anyone could see this they’d know he was enjoying the sight of you at his mercy. He grinds his shaft against your walls, ramming against your g-spot and you drool like a mindless plaything, greedy for his attention.

“Right…right fucking there, ohmygod!” His cock pummels your cunt deliciously, hands spreading your cheeks wide and the stretch is so good, perfectly stroking the need in your belly.

“You’re so needy, pretty girl. You love it like this, huh? Good thing I fuck you so well, right?”

Merlin, this boy can pull orgasms out of you as well as he plays quidditch. He’s the only person in the world you’d gladly submit and be this pathetically cockdrunk for. Good thing he's yours.

“Yes…yes! So good Jamie. No one can fuck me like you….”

The white-hot sensation digs at your insides as his fingers fall to your clit, rubbing at you just the way you like as shockwaves shake every crevice of your being. He's breathing over your neck, hot air puffing and elevating your senses before they shut down completely.

“Yeah? Then come on my cock again right now. Show me you like it that much. Now.”

Your arms give out, falling completely forward as your body jerks in searing pleasure, pussy fluttering around his cock once more, so intensely. Your hands flail behind you until they find his, and he's pulling you up against his hard chest as he bounces you onto his length and chases his high.

“Give it to me, please, please… I can take it!” You’re screaming now, at the intersection between pain and pleasure but wanting to make sure you can milk him for his efforts. James’ thrusts stagger as he leans his head on your shoulder, biting you as he cums hard.

“I know you can, baby. All yours…” he chokes out.

Thick white ropes coat your insides, wrapping you tight around him like a present until the excess seeps out to the base of his cock. You kiss his temple as James starts to regulate his breathing.

“Fuck. Fuck….” you drag out, the two of you more winded than you were playing the damn game.

“I still have to return Steven’s jersey,” you mumble, and James can’t do anything but smirk at the thought of the clueless boy standing outside your House's locker room while he fucked you senseless a few doors over. What a shame.

—

The two of you walk hand in hand into the Gryffindor common room to a crowd of students cheering for James. The party is well underway and many hands clap his now injured back, to which his grimaces make you bite back a laugh. Speaking of bites….

Sirius walks up to you with two cups of punch, wide grey eyes zeroed in on you wearing James’s jersey and the glaring red marks of your boyfriend’s teeth on your neck.

“Merlin. I thought you two would take time to celebrate on your own but did you fucking attack her?”

You both take the cups out of his hands, searing blushes on your faces and leave Sirius to his own imagination before James whispers in your ear that he’ll be gone for a moment.

“Okay, but hurry back, baby.”

A peck on the lips sends him on his way to walk straight towards that wanker–er, Steven with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Potter! Have you seen–” the dumb boy says eagerly, before James cuts in, “Yeah, my girlfriend couldn’t meet you earlier, sorry mate.”

His hand digs into the undetectable extension charm in his knapsack, pulling out a soggy, ripped jersey.

“We were kind of busy, but you know how to fix that don’t you? You’ll need it to keep you warm on the bench for the rest of the season after all.”

It plops sadly onto the floor in front of the guy, and James looks at him, hazel eyes conveying what he knows he doesn’t have to remind him anymore.

“Thanks again! Appreciate you looking out for my girl.”

He walks away from Steven, who’s sputtering sad excuses and your eyes meet his as James finds you near the drinks table.

“What did you do?” You say with a lifted brow.

“Nothing, pretty girl. Just making known what’s mine.”

—

"you are pressing against me

like i press flowers

against the pages in my book.

you are kissing my neck

and it feels like the start of forever.

i want to touch you until my palms burn."

-amirae garcia

taglist (OPEN): @jsjcue

[amhrosina]

Feelings are Fatal (Javier Peña x f!Reader)

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAGLIST

A/N: omg whatttttt amhrosina writing a fic about someone not in a marvel show/movie???? whatttt???? the people who know me in person (& one of my fav mutuals) knew this was coming. what can I say? it’s pedro fucking pascal and i've been in love with him since GOT lol enjoy this angst fest!  

request: rosi i noticed that you added pedro pascal to your writing list so im requesting a fic with javi comforting dea reader after a family member/friend dies. soft javi, maybe reader is drinking and theres an established but secret relationship. feel free not to write it if you dont like it but i saw your authors note about pedro and figured i would ask

Summary: Javi comforts reader after she gets terrible news and is forced to confront the depth of his feelings for her. Steve confronts Javi about his secret relationship.

(Warnings: angst, mentions of death, grief, minor injuries, alcohol, Javi is a grump but is a soft!boy w reader, cursing, lots of cigarettes lol, feelings are hard for javi)

The second you heard the receiver click on the other end of the line, the bulky phone slipped from your hand and tumbled to the floor. The booming crack of the plastic smacking the tile, followed by the trinkle of the pieces cascading across the floor, were the only sounds you could hear in the bullpen. You tried to find something to focus on, eyes glazing over as your heartbeat pounded in your ears. You scanned the area around you, skipping over Murphy’s concerned gaze and landing on Javi’s empty chair.  

Mierda. (Shit.) He was still chasing a lead in Cali, and he wasn’t supposed to be home until early tomorrow morning. It’s not like he would be able to do anything for you right now anyways, considering you were surrounded by people who would out your relationship in half a second if it meant their career might be boosted because of it, but his reassuring presence was something you sorely needed at the moment.  

Your chest tightened as you processed what your dad had just murmured through the phone. You had been sitting when you answered the phone, but at some point, you must’ve stood, because you were currently white knuckling the back of your chair.  

Murphy rolled his chair into your eyeline, waving his hands in the air. Everything around you sounded muffled, almost like you were under water, and you couldn’t focus on anything for longer than a few seconds. You ran through the tricks you knew off the top of your head to stave off a panic attack. You tried to take a deep breath, you counted the tiles on the floor, hell, you even tried to find five things you could see, but the rapidly rising pace of your heartbeat, and the shallow breaths you could barely manage told you your panic attack was in full swing already. 

A gentle presence on your wrist sent a shock through you so prevalent that you snapped to attention and the world suddenly got very loud. Murphy was standing in front of you with wide eyes, murmuring your name, while the lucky few agents that happened to be in the bullpen when your phone rang stood a few feet back, observing you with keen interest. You weren’t stupid enough to believe they cared about your wellbeing. Nosy fuckers.  

Your hands clenched into fists, shaking slightly. The indent of your nails pressing into your palm was a steady ache, one that you absolutely needed if you were going to walk out of the office without incident. And you knew that was where you needed to go. Away from here, away from the DEA’s bullshit bureaucracy, away from Pablo Escobar and his sicarios. You stumbled away from Murphy, turning on your heels when you reached the lip of the bottom stair. You would explain everything to everyone later, when you could think again. ‘If you still have a job later, pendeja (asshole/idiot),’ you thought miserably. 

You barely remember jumping into your front seat, nor starting the car, nor pulling out of the police headquarters lot. You had a vague awareness that you arrived home when you unlocked your front door, but you were stuck in autopilot, and couldn’t bear to think about why you were stuck in autopilot.  

You eyed the bottle of liquor Javi had left in your kitchen the last time he was here and sighed. Yes, you thought, that’s perfect. 

- 

Javi was driving like a maniac, and he didn’t give two shits about it. When Steve had called earlier, he hadn’t been able to give any details about their partner’s bizarre behavior, other than her hasty departure from DEA headquarters after a strange phone call. Steve was puzzled, but otherwise not too concerned about her. Javi, on the other hand, had carefully untangled himself from his business in Cali and hopped on the next available and inconspicuous flight home he could manage.  

He could feel in his gut that something was wrong, and he couldn’t leave his girl hanging, job or no job. He wasn’t any closer to capturing Escobar anyways and had already determined that his trip to Cali was a colossal waste of time and resources before Steve had called him.  

He’d been pulled away from DEA headquarters for long enough, and this was the perfect excuse for him to high tail it out of Cali and come home. He was tired, and he missed his conejita (bunny – term of endearment), and even though he’d never admit it, he missed Murphy’s early morning grumblings too.  

He peeled into the nearest parking spot he could find to the apartment building and hurdled himself out of the driver’s seat. When he entered the building, he eyed the door at the top of the stairs. Dark – either Murphy was still at the office, asleep, or sitting in his apartment in complete darkness. His apartment was also dark, but a soft glow emitted from under his conejita’s door, and he breathed a sigh of relief.  

He considered using the key she had given him for emergencies. Did this count as an emergency? He sure thought so, but he didn’t want to startle her, so he knocked on the door with anxious trepidation. He waited, straining to listen through the door for any sign of life inside the apartment. There was nothing, and then there was the loud crash of something glass hitting the floor, and Javi was through the door before she could let out a yelp.  

She was on her hands and knees, hunched on the floor by her couch. Broken glass was all over the floor around her, though Javi couldn’t tell what she’d broken. He was more concerned for her palms and kneecaps, all of which were being pushed into the broken glass shards with little resistance on her end. He rushed to her side, lifting her off of the glass and into his arms.  

“Javi?” She slurred, raising her chin in a defiant gesture.  

“Cariño (honey), what happened?” He noted the way she slurred her words and the fact that her cheeks were tinted pink. “Have you been drinking?”  

“Have you been drinking, Agent Grumpy?” She pouted, trying to mimic the way Javi’s lips would poke out when he was upset about something.  

Clearly, she’d been drinking, but Javi couldn’t figure out what might’ve spurred this behavior. Out of him, Murphy, and her, she was the most levelheaded of the trio, and the least likely to drown her sorrows in a bottle of liquor. Dread coiled in his gut. Something awful must’ve gone down while he was gone, and he couldn’t help but feel like the idiot that couldn’t keep up. 

“Baby,” he murmured, carefully navigating through the millions of tiny glass shards all over her living room floor, “¿Que paso (what happened)?”  

“I dropped the bottle.” She breathed, clutching onto his shirt with her bloody hands. He didn’t care. He’d use a hundred of his shirts to stop her bleeding. He carefully set her down in a kitchen chair, untangling his limbs from hers. She seemed more alert now, more awake than when he’d busted through the door moments before. The cuts on her hands and knees were probably to blame for that, but Javi couldn’t breathe a sigh of relief yet. First, he had to find a first aid kit.  

Every agent was trained in basic first aid, and if they felt like being kiss-asses, they could take classes to get certified in trauma response. Javi hadn’t felt like being a kiss-ass, but he knew he way around a first aid kit. As he poked around her kitchen and bathroom cabinets, he stuck his head in the hallway every few seconds, checking on her. She was waiting patiently at the kitchen table where he’d left her, but she’d adopted a look that could only be described as “far away”, and his concern was growing by the minute.  

Javi couldn’t figure it out. When they’d talked on the phone this morning, she was fine, chipper even. She was excited that he’d be home soon, and he had promised that he’d make up for the nights they’d lost while he was working in Cali. When her voice had dropped to a whisper, and she revealed that Murphy had just walked into the bullpen thirty minutes early, his breath had hitched in his throat as he almost let the words “I love you” slip from between his lips.  

Javi wasn’t inexperienced with women, but he was sure that she was the only woman in the world that could get him that tongue tied. When the receiver clicked, indicating that she'd hung up, Javi had spent entirely too long staring at the phone in his hands, listening to the dial tone drone on and on as he searched his brain for wherever the hell that had come from.  

But that couldn’t be what was bothering her. Steve had mentioned a phone call, but she’d hung up the phone with him before 8am, and she didn’t start acting weird until almost ten hours later. There had to be someone, something bothering her, and Javi’s chest ached with rage about it. The only person allowed to bother her was him, and he took that job very seriously. 

“Bebé (Baby),” he sighed, propping the medical kit open on the kitchen table, “Will you tell me what’s going on?” 

She swallowed thickly, sighing as he pulled up a chair in front of her. He gently lifted her hands to the light so he could see the cuts. They were shallow, but hands always bled a lot, so both of her palms were stained a deep crimson. She watched him as he began to remove pieces of glass from the cuts, and he waited patiently for her to explain herself. He’d wait for as long as she needed him to. 

- 

The stinging sensation hadn’t left your trembling hands, but you wanted to be tough in front of Javi, so you watched quietly as he wrapped your hands in thick gauze. He’d lit a cigarette two minutes ago, puffing smoke in the air at regular intervals as he worked. When he finally moved on to your knees, which had stopped bleeding ten minutes ago, you tried to figure out exactly what to say to him.  

It wasn’t every day that your significant other’s mom suddenly and inexplicably dies during an evening nap, leaving everyone, especially your significant other, baffled and choked by her loss. His mom had quietly passed away earlier the year before, and he was only gone for two days before returning to Colombia. He hadn’t broached the topic since then, and you weren’t as comfortable with him then as you were now. You could confidently say that you had no idea how this was going to go. 

You took a breath, and before you could talk yourself out of it, mumbled the same words your dad had spoken hours before, causing your world to crumble around you. 

“Mi mamá está muerta. (My mom is dead.)” 

Javi sucked in a breath, lifting his gaze towards yours with a pitiful expression. Tears welled in your eyes, and for the first time since you’d heard the horrible news, you allowed yourself to cry. Javi dropped the gauze on the table and wrapped his muscular arms around your neck, pulling you into his chest.  

“Oh, Cariño,” he cooed, kissing your hair as you sobbed into his shirt, “Lo siento, bebé. (I’m sorry, baby.)” 

His shirt was sure to be irreparably stained now that your blood and tears were soaked into it, but he didn’t seem to mind. He stroked your back, kissed your head, and held you close while you cried and cried into his chest. He’d never seen you so vulnerable before, and a rush of fear shot through you at the thought of him scaring away because of that, but every time you tried to push away from him, he’d tighten his hold on you and urge you to let it out. 

When you finally got a handle on your sobs, Javi pulled back, searching your expression for any further breakage. He’d weather it, this awful storm, for as long as you needed him to. You knew that, and even still, when he began to put the pieces of you back together again, your heart melted at the thought of him.  

Javier Peña was not the guy that women came crying to in the middle of the night. He was the guy you picked up for the one-night stand, the one you’d talk about for years afterwards, the one you’d think about as ‘the one that got away’ until you were too old to remember his name and where he came from. That was Javier Peña, and yet, he was in your kitchen, cleaning up your wounds, healing the part of you that was inexplicably broken. If only Murphy could see you guys now. 

“Cuando es el funeral? (When is the funeral?)” He asked, blotting at the scabs on your knees.  

“Next weekend.” You murmured, wincing as he taped gauze over a particularly deep cut. 

“When mi mamá died,” he started, and you stopped breathing, unwilling to be the one to fuck this conversation up before it even started, “I didn’t let myself mourn the way I should have. I tried to sweep it under the rug, ‘ya know?” 

You nodded, remembering the weeks after his return from Texas. He had thrown himself into his work, which made yours and Murphy’s lives a little easier for a while, though neither of you preferred it that way.  

“Let yourself mourn, Cariño. It’s my biggest regret.” 

“Okay.” You nodded, though you weren’t sure exactly what he meant by that. You spoke before you could stop yourself. “You can still mourn her. There’s not a time limit on grief.”  

It sort of felt like the air was sucked out of the room. You’d never said something so bold to Javi, especially not about his personal life. You were five seconds away from blaming your brashness on the alcohol you’d consumed, even though you’d sobered up fairly quickly once he’d arrived, when he nodded. 

“That’s true, Cariño.” 

You blinked. You must really look like shit if Javi wasn’t actively building walls around himself. Sure, he’d opened up a little throughout the relationship, but he was still working on being vulnerable with you, and he had a lot of work left to do. You knew he was plagued by nightmares – you were too, and who, working this job, wouldn’t be? – but he wouldn’t talk about them with anyone. Instead, he’d pull you closer, kiss you harder, and make you forget why he’d woken in the first place. It was a coping mechanism that both of you recognized as ‘not actually coping’ but neither of you had the resources or the energy to work through that trauma. At least, not yet. 

He lit another cigarette, and you watched him breathe in the smoke deeply. He lifted it toward you, and you eagerly parted your lips, taking a much needed drag. Before Colombia, before Javi, you hadn’t touched a cigarette in your life. After being assigned to team Murphy-Peña, you felt like you had a perpetual cloud of smoke hovering over you at all times.  

Javi brushed his hands together and threw the remaining unused gauze back in the first aid kit. He gently pulled you from your seat, and the slight movement sent a sting through your legs. You were already regretting the alcohol and your hangover hadn’t even started yet. 

“Let’s sleep at my place tonight, Cariño. We’ll clean this up tomorrow.” 

You nodded, teary eyed again. You didn’t want to think about tomorrow, or next week, or any time in the future that didn’t include your mom. If Javi noticed your tears, he didn’t say anything about them, and you were grateful for his wherewithal. He always knew exactly how to handle you, and that was part of the reason you’d fallen in love with him.  

Love. You blanched. Nope. Not thinking about that right now. 

You shrugged the thought away as Javi lifted you bridal style in his arms. Javier Peña didn’t fall in love, and you certainly weren’t going to be the woman to challenge that. 

- 

Bonus Scene: Steve confronting Javi about his secret relationship with you. 

“Are you fucking stupid? You’ve got to be, to pull this bullshit.” 

Javi watched Steve pace across his living room. Again. He’d been walking a hole in the rug for half an hour, and Javi wasn’t sure Steve would be stopping his rant anytime soon.  

Technically, Javi deserved this. Everything Steve was saying was true. He was jeopardizing not only his career, but hers too. The integrity of the investigation against Escobar would be questioned if word got out that two of the three agents assigned to his case were fucking each other. Not to mention how quickly procedure would be thrown out the window if either of them were in danger. There’s a reason why those rules existed. 

But like most things, it wasn’t that simple. Javi hadn’t been able to offer an excuse for when Steve caught him carrying her into his apartment, taped to high hell with gauze and tipsy as all get out. He’d simply shrugged, unlocked the door, and carried her through the frame without a second glance. 

Now, Steve wasn’t stupid, but he chalked up that incident to her being overwhelmed with grief. What friend wouldn’t offer their couch up to their drunk, mourning partner when she needed it? What he didn’t know was how often she slept at Javi’s already. She even had a toothbrush in his bathroom and a stack of books piled on one of the nightstands in his bedroom.  

Steve’s suspicions might’ve grown a little the weekend that she went home to Oceanside for her mother’s funeral. Weekends meant little to the DEA agents working Escobar’s case – every day was another day they could possibly learn information that may or may not give them someone who might know something about Escobar, or not – but Javi was especially fidgety the two days she was off on leave. 

Steve finally demanded to know what the hell was bothering Javi when he caught him staring at her empty seat for the third time in an hour. Javi brushed it off, claiming he hadn’t been sleeping well, but Steve wasn’t so easily persuaded to look the other way again.  

The final straw, the one that prompted the yelling and the insults and the pacing, made Javi’s relationship with her so obvious that there wasn’t a chance in hell he could talk his way out of it. Steve, being the hero best buddy that he was, had heard an alarming thump from Javi’s apartment, and taken it upon himself to investigate. What he hadn’t been expecting to find was his two partners, tangled in each other’s limbs, going at it on the kitchen counter like rabbits.  

Hence, the yelling. 

“I mean, seriously Javi? You could fuck any woman in the world, and you chose the one woman that’s off limits!” 

“Listen, man. I-” 

Javi tried again to interrupt Steve’s rant, to explain himself and what he felt for her. Steve was missing the bigger picture. Javi wasn’t just fucking her, he loved her. He couldn’t figure out if that would make Steve more or less angry about it. 

“You what, man? You what?!” Steve threw his hands in the air, beckoning an excuse that might help him understand why his partners would be such idiots. 

Javi struggled to translate his feelings into words. He hadn’t even told her yet exactly how he felt and saying it now felt weirdly similar to a trial run. He searched his head for the right words to describe what she was to him. 

“I’ve been sleeping.” Javi rested his hands on his hips and sighed, eyes flickering across the ceiling as he realized how incredibly stupid that sounded outside of his brain. “I know I love her, because I can sleep after I’ve talked to her.” 

Steve studied Javi, searching for any signs of deception. He narrowed his eyes when he couldn’t find any. 

“What do you mean you ‘love’ her?” 

“I mean, I fucking love her, man. I don’t know what you want me to say.” Javi was growing restless, tugging at the neckline of his button-down shirt. Conversations like these always made him antsy, and he could feel the temperature in his cheeks rising. 

“You.” Steve cocked a grin, “Javier Peña. In love? I’m not buying it man.” 

“Well, I’m not going to try and convince you.” It was Javi’s turn to throw his hands in the air in distress. He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. 

“You actually care about her?” Steve’s expression morphed from disbelief to genuine shock. Javi wished he could take a picture to savor the moment. 

“Are you going to say anything to anyone?”  

Javi would normally never be so obvious about his fears, but he was thinking about her, back in her apartment, probably walking a hole into her rug as she waited for Steve and Javi to hash their shit out. The look on her face when Steve started yelling was enough to make Javi panic, and he was not above begging if it meant keeping her out of trouble. 

“Nah, man.” Steve shook his head, plopping down on Javi’s couch. Javi sagged with relief. “Just don’t make it so obvious. I was suspicious before I walked in on you two.” 

“Yeah, man.” Javi took another drag of his cigarette.  

“Have you told her?” 

“Told her what?” Javi couldn’t keep the bite from his tone. 

“That you love her.” 

Javi envied the ease that Steve managed when he talked about love. Before she’d been transferred to Colombia, Javi had never, in his life, been able to understand why anyone would choose to fall in love. He recognized the signs of it from the years of watching his parents interact, but he’d never experienced it before. When Steve talked about Connie, whether it was a complaint or not, there was always an underlying tone of love in his words. When she showed up, everything Javi had ever thought about love was scrambled, and it terrified him. 

“No.” He blew out a slow trail of smoke. 

Steve nodded slowly in understanding. If anyone in the world could comprehend Javi’s mindset right now, it was the guy he’d spent hours and hours with every day for years. 

“Maybe you should.” 

“Yeah, maybe I should.” 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[megalony]

C-section

This is an Eddie Diaz imagine that was requested as a sort of spin off to my Eddie fic 'He Choked' but it can be read as a stand alone. I hope you all like it, feedback is always appreciated.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@noonenuts@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @topguncultleader @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream

911 Masterlist

He Choked

Summary: Things don't go quite to plan with the birth of their second child. but their new family of four is perfect.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mum!"

A deep, rumbling breath pushed past (Y/n)'s lips as she leaned her weight onto the back of the sofa and tried to straighten up again. Turning on her heels, (Y/n) slowly left the living room and braced herself on the wall to stay upright. Her bare feet shuffled along the laminate flooring that felt like she was walking across an iced lake.

Her nails scratched into the doorframe when she reached the bathroom and peered around the door. The burning feeling igniting in her abdomen died down a little when she peered around the door and her eyes locked with Chris. Her boy was sat in the bath, a wide grin on his face and about four small, plastic cups floating around in the bubbles with him.

"Are you finally finished?" She tried to force herself to smile but the constant twinges rolling through her stomach made it hard to pretend.

Chris nodded his head and dropped the plastic cup in his hand when he watched his mum walk over to the bath.

For almost three hours now, (Y/n) had been feeling the start of labour pains and she felt horrid waiting around for her water to break. She had taken to pacing up and down the house while Eddie called Evan to see if he would be able to watch Chris for them and he got things ready for when they were ready to leave. They couldn't go down to the hospital until (Y/n)'s waters broke and labour was in full swing.

(Y/n) had been under the impression that since this was her second pregnancy, labour might be the tiniest bit faster. They had been in labour for two days with Chris before things finally started to speed up and then it went south with him getting stuck and not breathing.

They had been praying ever since they found out they were pregnant that this time things would go smoothly and nothing would happen to their second baby.

"Okay," She tried to keep herself smiling as she grabbed a towel from the rack and leaned over the bath. Usually (Y/n) would have knelt down beside the bath to play for a while but she couldn't sit still in this much pain without worrying Chris and he had been happy enough with Eddie popping in and out to keep an eye on him.

A quiet 'oh' left her lips when Chris wrangled his arms around her neck and started to giggle. She curved the towel around his middle and bit down on her lip, trying to brace her back and stay steady so she could lift him out the bath.

"Hey, cheeky. You know your mum can't be carrying you around right now. Come here,"

(Y/n) was grateful when she felt Eddie's hand on her lower back and when she set Chris down to his feet on the bath mat, she moved to Eddie could kneel in front of him. Chris looked between them with his thumb caught between his teeth and a grin on his face.

They hadn't told him that (Y/n) was in labour yet, all he knew was that soon, Buck would be round to pick him up for a sleepover. They didn't want to worry Chris or confuse him when he was stressed enough about soon having a baby brother or sister in the house.

(Y/n) kissed the top of Chris's head and squeezed Eddie's shoulder before she slowly waddled out of the room, using the wall as leverage to stay upright.

Her lips curved into a tense smile when she glanced around her bedroom. Eddie had found the hospital bag and already put it in the car, as well as grabbing a few things from around the room that they would need. All they needed now was for her water to break.

She moved towards the bed and leaned forward to press her forearms down into the mattress. Her lower back arched out and her knees bent down a little as she tried to relieve the tension rattling through her body in waves. (Y/n) tried to slow down her breaths and take deep intakes but it only made her head go fuzzy and her knees started to shake. Tilting her head down, (Y/n) kept her forehead against her arms on the bed and tucked her chin into her chest. Groaning deeply when a particular pain tore through her stomach.

"Not long now," She whispered quietly to herself, repeating the words over and over like a mantra to stop herself from crying out or feel like she was going insane.

Her body jumped when she felt a hand on the small of her back and with her head tilted down onto her arms, a shiver bolted down her spine when Eddie kissed her exposed neck. His hands moved to cup her hips and his lips stayed against her neck.

"How are you doing, mi amor?" His words made her neck tingle and his voice was oddly quiet yet deep.

"I'm-" Closing her eyes, (Y/n) bit down on her lip and smothered a scream into the mattress.

Eddie's arms moved to curve round her stomach and he kissed the spot just behind her ear, keeping tight hold of her just in case her knees gave way. He didn't want her dropping down on her knees and hurting herself or not being able to get back up.

"I forgot h-how much this hurts," (Y/n) almost laughed as she bent her knees forward and switched her weight from foot to foot to distract herself.

They had Chris eight years ago and while the memory of that day was burned into the back of (Y/n)'s mind, the pain had long since been forgotten. The last two hours of Chris's birth, (Y/n) couldn't remember being in pain. All she could remember was the blood, Eddie's panicked face. Chris getting stuck. Then the nurse cradling him while he didn't breathe for fourteen seconds.

Tears burned in her eyes at the memory she wished she could forget. (Y/n) didn't want that to happen this time. She wanted a smooth run this time around, easy going, relaxed, no panic or unnecessary pain and no fear that they might lose their baby.

"Come here," Eddie's voice tickled the shell of (Y/n)'s ear and he gently reeled (Y/n) up off the bed and turned her until she was leaning into his chest. He pressed his lips to the top of her head while her hands scrunched up in his shirt, almost tearing through the thin cotton.

"Oh!"

Leaning his head back, Eddie tightened his hands on (Y/n)'s waist when she slipped down against his chest. But when his eyes quickly did a sweep up and down his wife to see what was wrong, his lips curved up and a breathless laugh rumbled deep in his chest.

"Finally," He whispered quietly before his lips pressed to the top of her head and his fingers dug deeper into her waist. Her waters had broken.

Now they could go to hospital.

***

Closing her eyes, (Y/n) rested her temple on Eddie’s shoulder, relaxing when she felt his lips press to the top of her head. He slowly swayed the pair of them side to side as if they were in the middle of a dance floor instead of a hospital room. And his hands danced up and down her hips, squeezing every now and then like he was reminding her he was still here.

She didn't like this part.

Waiting around felt like they were waiting for tomorrow to arrive, something that never happened.

The morning had been spent in agony, aimlessly walking round the house waiting for her waters to break. Now they were waiting again for her body to decide it was ready to push. (Y/n) wanted to skip this part, to fast forward time and be at the end where she would be laid with a baby in her arms. But then again, she couldn't bring herself to wish for that in case something was going to go wrong.

Labour still seemed to be taking a while and (Y/n) was growing tired and restless. She didn't know what to do with herself. Sitting on the bed made her feel tense and numb but she didn't have much energy to walk around the room anymore. Eddie had paced the room with her in his arms and her nails puncturing into his arms but now (Y/n) couldn't find the will to move.

But she felt better when she was standing and right now, being held up in Eddie's arms like this felt comforting. Her back wasn't aching as much, her mind was cloudy but calm and she could handle the pains better when she was stood like this. It was very relaxing and almost hypnotising.

“Do you wanna sit down?” Eddie mumbled against her hair quietly and closed his eyes as he started to rub his hand up and down her back. His other hand stayed curled around her hip and he smiled into her hair when he felt her fingers push into his biceps. She nuzzled her face into his chest, tickling her nose against him and when she pushed her cheek into his shirt, Eddie grinned down into her hair and squeezed her tight.

This was much calmer than when Chris had been born. Eddie had only just got home from his stint in the army and Chris had been a month early. They didn't quite know what to expect and had been panicking right up until things went wrong, then everything only got worse.

“Not yet.” (Y/n) responded quietly, not bothering to open her eyes. She took a deep breath, inhaling his scent as she tried to keep her mind focused but if another contraction didn't hit her soon, (Y/n) knew she might just fall asleep standing up. Especially since Eddie was holding up all of her weight as if she were a doll in his arms.

"Okay mi amor,"

Eddie wanted this to go as smooth as possible, he wanted his wife in far less pain this time around and no danger coming to their second child. And he was becoming restless. He wanted his baby in his arms, cuddled up into his chest already. He missed those nights when Chris was a newborn and he laid all night with his baby boy curled up on his chest.

He wanted them in his arms now.

(Y/n) kept her arms loosely locked around Eddie’s neck as he started to sway them again. She knew she wasn’t going to go to sleep, she was in too much discomfort for her brain to turn off and she was too anxious about whether this time would go smoothly or not. But she had to admit that being with her husband like this in silence was comforting and very relaxing.

Just as Eddie found himself forgetting where he was, he was brought back to reality when (Y/n) tightened her arms around his neck. Her lower back arched out as she turned her head so her temple was pressing into his chest.

“Mi amor, you okay?” He mumbled, his eyes drifting between (Y/n) and the door when a midwife walked through.

"T-that was a big one," (Y/n) whimpered as she brushed her thumb up and down the back of Eddie's neck to try and distract herself from the pain that wasn't stopping. It felt like she could feel each muscle tearing itself apart and contorting into odd shapes to make room for the baby. It was a horrid feeling she had long forgotten.

Eddie knew the more contractions (Y/n) had and the closer they were together, the sooner he would meet his baby.

"Shall we get you on the bed and see how you're doing?" The midwife commented as she walked over to the pair of them.

Her hands hovered near (Y/n)'s hips just in case she was needed but Eddie had it all under control. He slowly backed up towards the bed and shuffled round, easing (Y/n) down until she could feel the bed pushing into the back of her knees. Her arms stayed hooked around his neck even when he got her sat down and he had to stoop over her.

He moved so he was stood between her legs with his hands still on her hips and he kissed her temple lovingly.

"Eddie," She groaned his name, tightening her arms around his neck when he tried to take a step back. If she could have, she would have hooked her legs around his hips to reel him into her. She could feel his lips curving against her temple and his thumbs brushed up and down her waist before he gave her a squeeze.

(Y/n) wanted him as close as she could get him and more so. He had to be right next to her, he had to be touching her somehow. (Y/n) wanted to feel his breaths mingling with hers and his touch on her skin.

"I'm still here," He whispered against her skin as he pulled out of her grasp and moved to stand at her side instead. He leaned his hip against the side of the bed and curved one arm around her shoulders while the other hand held out in front of her so she could give his hand a very tight squeeze.

She said nothing as the midwife put a heartbeat monitoring clip on her finger and two more to her stomach to monitor the baby’s heartbeat. She tipped her head back into the pillows and smiled when she felt Eddie bring the back of her hand to his lips.

"I'd say you're fully dilated now. You can begin to push on the next contraction," The midwife stated kindly, seeing the relief on both their faces at finally getting closer to meeting their next baby.

Silence fell over the three of them for a few minutes as they waited for the next contraction to hit. Eddie tipped his head down, pressing his lips to (Y/n)’s arm as they waited, his hands holding hers tightly. When the next contraction came, (Y/n) pushed and leaned herself forward, crying out through the pain until one of the monitors started to beep. Both her and Eddie turned to look at the screen, wanting to know whose heart was now in distress and (Y/n) thought for a moment it was her own heart. She could feel her pulse thudding in her ears and her heart was going rather fast.

But it wasn’t her heart, it was the baby’s.

“What’s happening?” (Y/n) leaned her head onto Eddie's chest when he crouched over her, tightening his arm around her shoulders while he kissed her temple. He curled around her like a protective blanket but his eyes remained on the monitor that showed their baby's heartbeat was starting to slow down.

“Baby is just a bit stressed, that's all. The heartbeat should stabilise in a minute.” The midwife responded as she watched the monitor showing the baby’s heartbeat and waited for it to pick back up. All of them sighed in utter relief when it started to mellow out and go back to the rhythmic beat it had been a moment ago.

A burning scream tore from the back of (Y/n)'s throat when another contraction burned through her stomach. She tugged on Eddie's hand, pulling him even closer until his chin was perched on her shoulder and he was kissing the junction between her shoulder and neck.

"Let's try another push,"

Eddie felt delightedly relieved that the monitor didn't scream out this time, the baby seemed stable when (Y/n) started to push again. Maybe the baby had been surprised that they were about to be evicted and come out into the world.

(Y/n) cried out when another contraction hit and pushed to sit forward with her chin tucked down into her chest and her knees as close to her stomach as she could manage. But her eyes snapped open and she started to shake when the monitor started to scream again.

Her body burned as she cried, pushing back into Eddie who sat down on the edge of the bed and curled both arms around her to try and calm her down. (Y/n) sucked in a few trembling breaths but more tears flushed her face when the baby's heartbeat kept getting lower.

"I think labour is significantly distressing baby and since you're not quite crowning yet, I'm going to fetch a doctor. We need to take you for a C-section to get baby out as soon as possible."

The midwife patted (Y/n)'s thigh but her eyes locked with Eddie when (Y/n) screamed. She was silently asking if he would be alright for her to step out of the room and find help and Eddie nodded. He could look after (Y/n), he could calm her down.

"No, Eddie, no…"

Sobs bubbled past (Y/n)'s lips and both her hands moved to grip Eddie's bicep that curved around her chest just beneath her collar bone. His hand gripped her shoulder soothingly and he didn't mind her nails puncturing down into his arm. He kept his other arm around her waist and slowly rubbed his palm over her stomach.

"Shh, baby it's okay." Eddie slowly started to sway them from side to side, kissing the side of her head when (Y/n) smothered her face into his bicep and screamed, sending shivers up and down his arm. He could see and feel the way her heels were digging into the mattress and she was pushing back into him, desperate to stop herself from pushing and distressing their baby even more.

"It's h-happening again," (Y/n) wailed into his arm, dangerously close to biting his skin as she felt like Chris when his routines changed and he went into a meltdown.

"No, no it's not. We didn't get a C-section last time, that would have solved everything. We're getting one this time, and you'll both be fine. Come on, deep breaths. I'm not going anywhere and in an hour it'll all be over."

Chris had been born breached and right at the end, he became stuck. A C-section would have helped them, if they realised Chris was distressed earlier, they could have had him through the operation and he wouldn't have suffocated or gotten lasting damage.

They weren't going to have any of that this time around. They knew their baby was starting to struggle and they were going to have an operation to get them out safely. This is just what they needed, this was their lucky break. No chance of history repeating itself, no chance of having another child stuck, suffocating and potentially dying without anyone being able to do anything to help.

"It's alright, sweet girl, it's alright."

***

A tender smile flooded (Y/n)'s when she turned her head and looked across at the far end of the bed. Chris was sat snuggled between the pillows, both arms cocooning his blanket to his chest, but he wasn't looking at the tv or even at (Y/n). He was staring at Rosie.

His head was tilted at an angle and his lips were slightly parted as he stared at his baby sister with a look of wonder on his face.

"She's crying," He whispered quietly before he flopped down on the pillows on his stomach and stretched an arm out towards her. He placed his palm down on her stomach and started to rub her tummy, smiling until Rosie started to bat her hands and kick her legs up. Then his smile faded and he went back to staring at her like she was an enigma he couldn't solve.

"I think she's hungry, shall we go make lunch?"

When Chris nodded, (Y/n) clicked her spine into place and slowly pushed up from the bed. It was hard to control her smile so it didn't contort into a wince and give away the sudden pain she felt when she stood up.

Her upper chest coiled over and she stood, stooped over at an angle so her back wasn't straight. It had been two weeks since she'd had Rosie and so far, she couldn't straighten up yet. Standing straight made her stomach stretch and with a line of stitches across her lower abdomen, that became physically impossible to stay upright. (Y/n) felt as if they had stitched far too much of her skin together and now there wasn't enough to let her stand tall.

Lifting anything was impossible unless it was as light as a shirt or it happened to be Rosie. If (Y/n) wanted to do the washing, she had to ask one of the boys to take it to the kitchen for her. She could only bathe Rosie in the sink because she couldn't get back up from the floor if she knelt down beside the bath, which meant she couldn't do bath time for Chris either at the moment.

All (Y/n) wanted to do was stay in bed. And it didn't help that both Chris and Eddie were practically forcing her to stay in bed when they laid with her. (Y/n) was used to being up and active and moving about but now she had little energy left and her body wasn't healing as fast as she wanted. She was supposed to keep moving around because she was at risk of blood clots after her operation.

When she had Chris, the first week had been spent in hospital with how badly his birth had gone. But once they were both home, (Y/n) had a new lease of energy. She had no problems doing the house work with Chris in one arm and she was forever walking round to the park or to Eddie's parent's house when they lived in Texas.

This time it was different.

She leaned over the crib attached to the side of the bed and slowly eased Rosie up into her arms. She shifted the newborn into the crook of her right arm and held her against her chest, a few inches higher than her stitches so she didn't aggravate them.

"Why she not in her room?" Chris threw his blanket off his legs and left it splayed out on the end of the bed as he shuffled off the bed onto his feet. He swung the door open and headed out into the hallway, waiting for (Y/n) to catch him up before he continued on his way towards the kitchen.

His eyes lingered on Rosie's room as they passed it and he reached out to touch the wooden door sign that had his sister's name in italics and a painted rose above it.

"She stays with me and daddy for now, she wakes up a lot in the night so this is easier. You used to be in our room when you were a baby."

It had unsettled Chris a lot the first night they brought Rosie home and he realised she wasn't going to be in her own room. He felt cheated, he had to sleep in his own bed unless he had a nightmare, then if he sneaked into his parent's room they wouldn't question it. But Rosie wasn't sleeping in her cot in the nursery and it made him feel like he was missing out on something, as if they were having movie nights with Rosie but not him.

(Y/n) followed Chris into the kitchen, dragging her feet beneath her rather than lifting them up. She was relieved when they got to the kitchen that she could lean her left elbow on the counter and slouch forward so she didn't have to stand hunched over like she had a curved spine.

"Mummy,"

Her eyes cast down to Chris just as she grabbed one of Rosie's bottles and turned the kettle on. He had his arms stretched up towards her and he patted his palm against the counter to show what he wanted. He wanted her to lift him up onto the kitchen side.

When they made dinner, Chris loved to sit on the side so he could reach up into the cupboards easier and help cook, especially when Eddie was in the kitchen because he knew his dad wasn't the best cook in the world.

"I can't lift you up baby, use the steps," She tilted her head towards the set of steps in the corner that he could drag across and either stand on and lean over or use to climb up onto the counter himself.

His shoulders slumped and he frowned, huffing before he tried again and reached his arms up towards her.

"Why?"

"I've got a bad tummy, baby… but I think your dad's finished in the shower, he can lift you up." (Y/n) tilted her head back to lean around the corner when she heard the bathroom door open. Eddie had been to the gym this morning and the first thing he did when he came home was jump in the shower. Now he had a while off work, he could go to his usual gym and not just get a quick practice at the station gym.

"What are we making?" Eddie stretched an arm up behind him and scratched the back of his head, ruffling his damp hair that was already starting to crimp and form into waves. His nose crinkled as he smiled and padded bare foot into the kitchen, wearing a pair of loose jogging bottoms and a vest.

It was nice to wear something casual instead of the usual starched button up uniform and the plated boots and a thick overall jacket that made him sweat in the LA heat.

When Chris muttered a quick 'omelette', Eddie nodded while he rolled his eyes when his boy stretched his arms out towards him. He easily lifted Chris up and perched him on the countertop, cracking a few eggs into a bowl so Chris could whisk them up and add cheese. The only kind of omelette Chris would eat was a cheese one, he wouldn't put anything else in it, no salt or pepper, no ham, mushrooms. Nothing.

Eddie started pouring some drinks but when his eyes drifted across to (Y/n), his lips rolled together and he arched a brow. He turned so he was facing her, pressing his hip against the counter while he raked his eyes up and down, watching the unease roll off her in waves.

She had Rosie in her right arm which was leant on the counter, her bum and lower back were arched out so she could slump forward and she had her head hung low. While her left hand slowly shook the bottle to mix the powder and warm water. (Y/n) looked like she was about to fall asleep standing up and the discomfort was clearly written across her face.

"Alright, I think it's my turn." Eddie stepped closer until his chest moulded up into (Y/n)'s side and he held his arms out, brushing his thumb against Rosie's cheek while he waited to take her.

"I have to feed her-"

"I can do that while my head chef is making dinner," He waved a hand behind him towards Chris who lifted his chin high and grinned, waiting for one of them to find him a frying pan so he could pour in the mixture. "Go sit down, please."

(Y/n) pressed her lips together but nodded nonetheless. Her arms shifted towards Eddie and she let him ease Rosie into his arms, grinning as he cooed down at her. She liked the way Rosie looked so small when she was in Eddie's arms, she looked like a doll even when she was wriggling and bashing a hand against her nose while she whimpered impatiently. Tucked into the crook of Eddie's elbow, his bicep engulfed her and made her look miniscule.

He kept Rosie in his left arm while he bent down and found a pan in the cupboard and set it up for Chris who now had a ladle in his hand and a bowl of mixed eggs that were completely engulfed in cheese.

Turning around, Eddie leaned his hips back into the counter next to Chris and kept a look over his shoulder while he began feeding Rosie her bottle. His lips curved into a smile and he leaned his head down to the right when he felt (Y/n)'s arms wrap around his torso. She was still hunched over but now she had her face pressed into his bicep and he could feel her butterfly kisses soaking into his arm, making him shiver.

"I told you to go sit down," He whispered quietly into her hair, instantly feeling the way she grinned into his arm.

"And leave you in charge of dinner?" When she felt a growl rumble within his chest, (Y/n) kissed his arm and tightened her arms around his torso. "I'll sit down in a minute,"

"Hm. That's what I thought you said."