#but now i’ve been going back to bed and waking up around my normal time and i actually feel tired at night!!!!

[yamumsyadadd]

the forgotten girl (1)

posted this originally on my old account. will be posting twice weekly :)

Emily Scott, sister of legendary lionesses Jill Scott, has died at the age of 21. Wife Amelia Scott-Higgins in intensive care. 

Police have confirmed that Emily Scott was murdered in her family home over the weekend, her wife, Matilda’s star Amelia Scott-Higgins is in intensive care after sustaining life threatening injuries. 

Waking up in a hospital bed, wrapped in bandages and in heaps of pain was not exactly how I expected my day to go but here we are. I don’t remember much. I remember going home after training, I stopped to get dinner, chicken carbonara and garlic bread from our favourite Italian restaurant and then flowers from the corner stand that Emily was obsessed with. I was already late so who cares if I was a little extra late. 

I remember the front gate being open, which is never normally the case, I remember the front door being unlocked but closed, again not normal but sometimes Em is in a rush when she gets home. As I took my shoes and coat off and wandered down the hallway, I didn’t notice the guy standing behind the door, or the guy on the couch, or Emily in the back room tied to a chair. I didn’t notice any of it. The only thing I noticed before it went black was the two wine glasses, one tipped over and smashed, the other full. 

Chelsea FC superstar, Amelia Scott-Higgins has QUIT mid season. 

CLICK TO READ MORE….

Where is football superstar Amelia Scott-Higgins?

Moving to Barcelona was the best thing I could’ve done. No one knows me,no one knows what happened or who Emily was. I am invisible. As soon as I could, I quit, left England, deleted all my social media and changed my number. 

The rehab was incredibly hard. That’s to be expected considering I have multiple stab wounds to my stomach, my leg cut up, bruises covering every part of my body. I was still me though. Maybe not on the surface but deep down I was. I missed Emily everyday, I missed our life together, I miss the little things. 

My apartment was empty. Nothing on the walls, plain furniture, it looked more like a show house than something someone would actually lived in. It didn’t bother me, it made my brain have to work less. All I did was rehab, surf and doom scroll. I came across the Manuelas instagram page, a gay bar in Barcelona. From what I’ve heard it’s incredibly popular but I’ve never been. They had a shirt available, “lesbian services”, after inquiring they allowed for me to pick it up. 

I was meeting someone called Olga, slightly worried as I had no idea who she was, I let it play out. 

“Hola! Are you Amelia?” 

“Hola, yes I am.” 

“Perfect! I’m Olga! Let me take you inside and you can get whatever you want. They said you’ve paid so you can get anything.” 

Stickers, hats, shirts, they had it all. I grabbed one of everything and then had a chat with Olga. 

“You’re not around here are you? Your Catalan and Spanish is good but the accent is a bit weird.” 

“Oh nah. I’m Australian. Lived in London for a few years but I’m here now.” 

“Oh wow! How long have you lived here?”

“3 years now. It’s beautiful. I don’t get out much but I’m trying to get out more.”

“What do you do for work? If you don’t mind me asking?” 

“Uh um, I used to play -“ 

“Amelia? Is that you?” Keira Walsh and Lucy Bronze. Right in front of me. I haven’t seen them for 3 years, purposely ignoring all of them and essentially falling off the face of the earth. 

“Amelia! What are you doing here? Give me a hug!” 

“Hey guys. Long time so see.” This is not what I wanted. More and more people started surrounding us. 

“Holy shit. That’s Amelia Scott-Higgins! She’s been MIA for so long. I miss watching her” the short one with dimples tried to whisper, it didn’t work. 

“Dude she used to be so good. What happened?” Her taller companion asked next. 

“That’s enough you two. She has ears and can hear you idiots.” Alexia Putellas. 2 time Ballon d’or and 2 time pain in my ass. “Hola Amelia. How are you?” 

“Fine thanks Alexia. And you?” 

“How do you all know each other? I am very confused here.” Olga spoke up. 

“Mil used to play for-“ Alexia started to say

“We are old friends!” This is why I don’t leave my house. 

“I need to go. I have things to do. Olga thank you so much for all this. If I owe any money let me know. Alexia, girls, it was nice to see you. Good luck this season.” Turning as quickly as I could to escape. 

“Milly, wait.”

“Kei, don’t. I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

“Please can I have your number or something? It’s been 3 years and you disappeared.” 

“Give me your phone and I’ll put it in. I’m not good at replying. Bye Kei.” 

3 years since I stepped foot in England, 3 years since I buried my wife. 3 years since I’d spoken to my friends. 4 years since Emily died. 4 years since I played football, 4 years since I felt normal. 

[jamminvroomvroom]

no more mister shy guy.

OP x fem!reader

in which you can’t work out why he just won’t sleep with you

i am neither normal, nor am i hinged! i hope you guys get the vision, i literally wrote this last night possessed by some feral urge bc i just love oscar sm and i’ve been needing to write for him sooo baaad. enjoy! pls lemme know what you think <3

songs to set the vibes: delicate by taylor swift, good looking by suki waterhouse, my kind of woman by max demarco, feeling myself by wolf alice

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, pwp but also there is some plot? overstimulation, crying in a hot way, choking, unprotected sex (L bozo don’t do that!) the most minor moment of angst, fluff

2.8k words

you watch him make coffee, daydreaming, balancing your heavy head on your hand. you study him while your free hand taps against the kitchen counter, nails drumming a random beat. sunlight streams through a gap in the curtains, framing him golden. you don’t think he knows how pretty he is.

oscar is oblivious to the way your mind is ticking behind him, twisting the cap on the carton of oat-milk. you hear the plastic fall onto the counter and your tongue wets your lower lip as he reaches up into the cupboard, his back flexing beneath his shirt as he finds your favourite mug. you realise then how swollen your lip is, snapped out of the trance he had you in, the one that had you biting your lip so hard, completely mindlessly.

he’s bulked up over the winter break, filled out a lot over the course of his rookie season. he’s no longer the scrawny, anxious guy you’d met at your fathers work event a year ago, he’s broader, thicker in your hands, utterly delicious. as much as you like the way he looks, you like his mind a whole lot more. if only you knew what was going on inside it.

oscar is an enigma, quiet, hilariously dry, the kindest man you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. you’ve been together since the start of the winter break, november, after awkward run ins and plenty of pining since the start of his first season. you’d travel to races with your dad, a mclaren sponsor, and run into the australian, stare at each other and pretend no one noticed. after months of teasing from lando, oscar finally got the kick up the arse that he needed and you’d said yes to dinner before he’d even finished asking the question.

it’s february now, a week til he needs to be in bahrain. the last three months had been serene, spent with a man made of sunshine, and you’re sad to see him go, as if you won’t be in the emirates a mere four days after him. you fear the way you’ll ache for him, having been inseparable since the dinner that started it all.

but then again, it can’t be worse than the way you ache for him now.

“sweetheart?” oscar is waving his hand in front of your face when you realise he’s been calling your name for a good 15 seconds, and you have, in fact, been staring. hm? you jump, staring at him bewildered. he looks amused. “you okay?” he coos, sliding the coffee across the island towards you.

“yeah, sorry, i, um, i just- why won’t you have sex with me?” you blurt, slapping your hand over your mouth as soon as you realise what you’ve just said.

oscar just blinks, mouth forming a little o, the permanent blush he seems to have increasing tenfold. you instantly feel guilty for ambushing him, but you were at the end of your tether. three months of nothing, nada, zilch. every move you made was refuted, ignored as if he was oblivious. you were ravenous for him, he’s so gorgeous! and you didn’t want to pressure him, but you were starting to feel like there was something wrong with you.

you’d wake up in bed with him wrapped around you, grinding against your ass in his sleep, and you’d revel in it, the rare times that he actually seemed to want you like that. you loved him regardless, of course you did, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t need to be… dealt with. urgently.

“i- um- what?” oscar splutters, and the bottom of his mug blinks against the granite.

“is there something wrong with me? am i not pretty enough?” you whisper, shy. “do you just not… like- do you not want to do that?” you ramble.

panic fills his face, and he’s rushing around the island, by your side in an instant. he takes your hands into his, finding your eyes. they’ve grown watery, a mixture of guilt and desperation swirling in them which makes him feel ill.

“baby, no, god no.” he rushes the words out, desperate to convince you that it wasn’t you. “you’re the most beautiful person in the entire world, prettiest girl i ever saw.” he promises. “i’m just… it’s scary.”

“oh, osc.” your face falls, and you want to throw yourself off of the balcony. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to pressure you. if it makes you feel better, i’m scared too. but i love you so much, i just want to feel even closer to you.”

“you didn’t make me feel pressured, i’m just sorry i made you feel unwanted. trust me, i want you like that. drives me insane. but i’ve never had sex before with someone that i love. not the way i love you, anyway. scared that i won’t be good enough for you.” he murmurs.

you’re hung up on the part where you drive him crazy, the part where he loves you like that, and then you remember how vulnerable he’s being, baring his entire soul to you, and you rip yourself from the fantasy.

your hands smooth over his shoulders, until you’re softly fisting a clump of hair at the nape of his neck.

“i love you. insanely. we’ll go slow.” you state. he moulds further against you, and you quickly realise it’s for leverage, because the next thing you know, you’re in his arms. he has his hands hooked under your thighs and he’s kissing you so, so deeply that you’re dizzy. you don’t realise that you’re halfway to his bedroom until he pulls away.

“i don’t wanna go slow anymore.”

oscar places you on your feet at the end of his bed, the large, plush king-sized mattress that is currently calling both of your names. your blouse gets unbuttoned first, his hands shaking in a way that makes you melt, and his lips trail over every inch of bare skin that he uncovers. when it finally falls to the floor, his pupils are blown wide, his hands palming intricate black lace. your jeans are stripped away mercilessly, his hands shaking less now, and you take it as a sign to crawl backwards onto the bed.

he stands there, watching you, apprehensive again. you can see how hard he is, how desperately strained his cock is through the light grey of his sweatpants, and so you switch tactics. your hand grazes your tummy, skimming up your abdomen until you reach a bra strap. you toy with the elastic, holding the kind of eye contact that makes him twitch, tugging it until it hangs loosely off of your shoulder.

“i need you, osc. i trust you.” you utter, soft and enticing. one finger runs under the cup of your bra, flicking over your nipple. he can just about see the hardened bud through the lace of your bra. it’s not enough, though, and every ounce of self control depletes when you whine, “want you inside of me so badly.”

the elastic band snaps and he’s on top of you, rutting between your legs like a man starved. you drag his shirt up and over his shoulder blades, moaning as you feel each and every muscle under your fingertips.

“just wanna make you feel good.” oscar rasps, rolling his hips even harder into your core.

“take these off.” you beg, pulling at the waistband of his joggers. he somehow musters the strength to pry himself off of you, just long enough to discard the uncomfortable material of his sweats, but as soon as he looks down, his plans change.

painted over the crotch of them is a shiny pool of your slick, and when his eyes flit hungrily to your core, he sees where you’ve soaked through your panties. you’re panting when you see the stain, and you just want to get him inside of you, but his priorities have changed. oscar collapses between your legs, head buried, tongue exploring.

he groans, carnal and needy, into the fabric of your underwear, laving his tongue over the lace. your eyes widen as he dives in, licking over the wet patch until he grows frustrated. you hear the tearing of the fabric, feel his big hands pawing at your thighs to spread them as wide as they’ll go. his tongue slides right inside of you and he whines. he fucking whines. the vibration nearly makes you scream. you can’t believe this is your oscar, the same oscar that had quivered with nerves a mere five minutes ago.

“oh my god.” you chant, rolling your hips against his face. you must be all over him by now, what with the way he’s sucking and slurping, obscene sounds of wetness sounding around the room. you’d be blushing a deep red if you weren’t so turned on, shaking against his bedspread which will probably need changing once he’s done with you.

you thought that maybe he was inexperienced and that was the source of his fear, but if he was, you never would have known. he was a natural in between your legs, nipping at your clit to get you even louder for him.

you cum faster than ever, and he’s mumbling something incoherent into your pussy when you do. you’re riding the high, midway through the bliss, when a thick finger slips its way inside of you. oscar realises that he can easily slide another in, and he does. he doesn’t thrust them in and out, he grinds them against your walls, and your mouth falls open as a silent scream forces it’s way out.

you cum a second time, in record time yet again, and he still doesn’t let up. he’s hitting that spot relentlessly with his fingers, keeping your clit between his swollen lips, and you’re begging him. for what, you’re not sure, but you’re whimpering his name like you’re going to die. and what a good way to go this would be.

his eyes meet yours, and he looks unhinged. that’s when you feel it. that all consuming, belly twisting rush.

“oscar!” you try to warn him, but it’s too late, and he knows it. he makes you squirt, because of course he does. the shy guy who was scared that he wouldn’t be able to please you makes you squirt.

he pulls his mouth off of you but keeps his fingers buried deep, eyes fixed on watching the way your pussy convulses.

“holy shit.” you cry. you’re staring down at him like you’ve gone insane. he’s smiling innocently.

“was that good?” he almost sounds shy and you want to kick him.

“are you… are you serious?” you rasp. oscar just shrugs. “get up here.” you reach for him and complies, slotting himself between your legs once more.

oscar resumes the rolls of his hips, and the friction of the grey fabric against your core makes your eyes roll back.

“please, oscar, fuck me.” you whine, his head falling into the crook of your neck. he bites down, leaving behind the sting of his teeth and a faint purple splotch.

“fucking love you.” he slurs, his accent thickening in a way that makes him sound that extra bit fucked out already.

“i love you.” you murmur, forcing his sweats down his legs. his boxers are wet, just like your panties were, and you can’t help but stare. oh, it’s big.

his boxers are peeled down and you can feel yourself throbbing. his cock hangs heavy, red and dripping, painfully hard. you reach for it, looking at him to make sure it’s okay to touch, and he’s rapidly nodding his head. your small hand struggles but you make it work, and his head tips back, exposing his thick neck that you want to suck purple. your hand works over him a few times, and a visible shiver running through his body makes you stop.

“you ready for me?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“please.” you gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “however you want me, ‘m yours.” you breathe.

oscar’s eyes roll back in his head, your words sending his brain blank, and then he’s pushing home, slow and deep.

“fucking hell.” he groans, guttural. you’re so tight, warm, soaking wet. he feels like the biggest idiot in the world for waiting so long for this.

“oh.” you gasp, your eyebrows knitting together. he’s so deep. “so full.” you pant.

“can you take it, sweetheart?” oscar’s lips bump your jaw. “want you to take it.” you nod profusely, desperate to hear him run his mouth even further. your eyes clench shut when you feel him move, just the tiniest bit, readjusting.

“move.” you plead. he’s staring down at you, watching every single micro movement of your face.

oscar pulls out the smallest bit and thrusts back in, nice and slow. the drag drives you feral, the weight of him on top of you makes you weak. you want to stay like this until the end of days.

“good?” he hisses, trying to keep composed. he’s finally inside of you, claiming you as his in the most intimate way of all. he tries not to think about how many times he could have had you begging under him in the last three months.

“so good, so good.” you repeat, pushing your hips up to try and meet his.

“so pretty like this for me. always so, so pretty.” he rambles. he realises that he never quite made it as far as getting your bra off, and he needs to see all of you. the cups are tugged haphazardly down, and oscar stares at your breasts like he’s never seen tits before. you hear him hum, low and greedy, and then you feel the wet drag of his tongue across your nipple.

the animalistic whine that he rips from you makes him thrust harder, upping his pace a bit. he can hear how much wetter you get when he picks up his pace, and he changes up his rhythm, pushing all the way in and dragging out again at lightning speed. your jaw goes slack and your eyes are damp.

“baby, what’s wrong?” oscar slows to a stop, and you want to scream.

“no, no, no, keep going.” you choke out, your throat constricting with a sob. “it’s so good. feel so good.” you sound drunk, all for him, and he loses his mind completely.

he taps into that athletic stamina, fucking into you with a newfound vigour that you didn’t think was humanly possible, and you feel things that you didn’t even know you could feasibly feel. you see stars behind your eyes, his face, and nothing else but bright white. calloused fingers find your clit, and you wonder fleetingly if he’s trying to kill you when he rubs messy shapes into the much too overstimulated bud. his teeth graze your nipple, and everything seems to come together perfectly.

thick tears run hot down your cheeks, only to be licked away by eager tongue. your belly tightens, aflame for him; he’s wound your body up perfectly and you’ve never in your life teetered so dangerously over the edge.

“can feel you, baby. want you to cum, okay? ‘n then i’m gonna fill you up.” oscar grunts. you clamp down on him even tighter, thanking god for oscar’s filthy fucking mouth and birth control, and then everything snaps.

you think you scream, you know that you’re sobbing, and your throat is raw when the wave hits. oscar keeps going, intensifying your pleasure, and when he finally let’s go, it’s the most beautiful fucking thing you’ve ever seen. it’s surreal, the way his neck flexes, eyes clenched tight, brown locks flopping over his sweat damped forehead. and the sounds he makes, god. he’s muttering into your ear, lewd and shameless, and a fifth orgasm nearly takes you under.

“gonna need you everyday like this, tight fucking pussy, all mine. can’t live without this now. fucking perfect.” he’s rambling, burrowing deep into you one last time. you feel his warmth spilling into you, feel his hot breath fanning your face. he licks into your awaiting mouth.

“fuck.” you giggle, breathless.

“good?” he raises an eyebrow, grinning bashfully.

“more than worth the wait.” you whisper, mustering the strength to lift your head just enough so that you can peck his lips. “you better not hold out on me ever again though.” oscar laughs at that and you feel the rumble in your flushed chest.

“you promise?” there’s the shy guy again.

“osc, honey, that was the best. ever. ever. need you to be mr sex god more often.”

“only if you behave for me.” he smirks down at you.

“there he is.” you sigh happily.

when he snakes his way back between your legs, lapping up the mess he’s made, and then some, you wonder just what you’ve unleashed.

-

whoops? lol

-

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[hadersversion]

I. i can fix him (no really i can)

“he had a halo of the highest grade, he just hadn’t met me yet.”

pairing: rafe cameron x innocent pogue! reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ minors dni!! language, soft rafe cameron because my boy just needs some love, slow burn!!

mood board!

“hey,” i said, nudging him with my foot. “hey, rafe, i think it’s time for you to get up.”

i look down at the boy who was passed out on the ground of the beach. his shaved head covered in sand as beer bottles surrounded him. his eyes fluttered open at me, staring at me. “w-where the hell am i?” he said, slowly sitting up.

“the beach, it’s 6:30 in the morning.” i sigh, looking at my watch. “i assume you were at a party here last night and got ditched on the beach by your friends.”

i watched as he looked around the empty beach and groaned, covering his face with his hands and yawning. “fuck.” he mumbled to himself. he ran his hands down once before looking back at me. “thanks, for uh-….”

i laugh to myself. “making sure you were alive? don’t mention it.”

he nods with a smirk. “yeah, that.” we stay there in silence. “i’m sorry, w-what’s your name again? i recognize you from your friends i just…”

“y/n y/l/n.” i nod at him.

“y/n y/l/n.” he repeats back at me, not once breaking eye contact with me.

i feel my face heat up, not knowing what i’m feeling in this exact moment. this is rafe fucking cameron, kook prince and sworn enemy to my friends. he’s not a good person. i know who he is and i should hate him, but when his eyes pierce through me like that…like he knows all my secrets….that’s when i start to question reality. “well, i should get going.” i say, pointing awkwardly to the beach.

“it’s 6:30 in the morning, where could you possibly be going?” he asks, pushing his knees up and resting his arms on them.

i sigh and look around, feeling like i’m in the hot seat. “uh…it’s uh…it’s dumb, you wouldn’t wanna know.” i try to dismiss him.

“no, i wanna know, tell me.” he says, sternly.

i bite my lip and sigh. “towatchthedolphins.” i say in a fast whisper.

“what was that?” he asks with a cocky smile, making me blush. “i couldn’t hear ya, could ya speak up?”

“i’m watching the dolphins!” i say more clearer, looking down at him. “i’ve been waking up early and watching the dolphins. this is like their prime time, so i like to sit and watch them while i have my breakfast.” i admit to him.

i wait there, expecting him to laugh or do something heinous that rafe cameron would do to a pogue. but he doesn’t. he just nods. “cool, i didn’t know that was like a thing.”

did i take one of kie’s edibles this morning by accident? did i actually never wake up to my alarm and i’m still tucked away in bed? or did rafe cameron just have a super normal reaction to something i said to him?

“yeah, right now is the best season for it.” i inform him with a shy smile on my face.

he continues to stare at me with those fucking perfect blue eyes. he rakes over my body once and stands up. did he just check me out? “well, y/n, enjoy those dolphins. i should probably get home before my dad has a bitch fit. thanks again.” he waves goodbye to me before staggering away towards the exit of the beach. my body lets out a breathe that i didn’t even know i was holding and i start to feel tingly inside.

what the fuck just happened?

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

after that, i seem to find rafe cameron everywhere. as i ride my bike to work, go to the beach, hang out with the pogues. he’s clouded up my brain and i have no idea what to do. it’s not like i can tell anyone, i’d be marked with a scarlet T for traitor. but my thoughts can’t stop themself from being infiltrated by him.

“yo, y/n, everything cool?” jj asks me, sipping from his beer.

he snaps me from my rafe cameron brain rot, taking me by surprise. “yeah, everything’s alright. sorry, just a little tired.”

a whole group of us hang out by the beach at the boneyard, the usual pogues, some kooks who we invited in to fuck with, and the vacationers. everything was going alright, until i saw him.

“ain’t no fuckin way.” i hear jj spit.

rafe and his friends stroll up to the party, with a few girls scattered around them. i feel my face goes hot as my friends spit their remarks about him.

“what makes this douchebag think it’s okay to just show up here?” i hear kiara say.

“i don’t know but i don’t like it.” john b adds in.

my eyes can’t seem to leave his figure. he looks just as handsome as i remember from the beach. i know i am staring but i just cannot seem to care. but my brain short wires when he looks up, meeting my gaze with a cocky smirk. shit.

i feel my face get darker as i quickly avert my gaze down to my feet. "uh, i'm gonna get a beer. anyone want one?" but before my friends can even answer my question, i quickly make my way over to the coolers. once i know i am out of their sight, i take a well needed deep breathe and try to ground myself. my brain feels fuzzy with thoughts of rafe cameron but i have to push them down.

i bend over to grab a beer from the cooler when i hear a familiar voice behind me. "mind if i grab one?" i quickly turn my head to see rafe, staring into his blue eyes like they were the goddamn eighth wonder of the world.

he's so close yet so far away, i can smell the expensive cologne he has on. my brain gets off of autopilot and screams at me to put space between us, which i attempt to do. but before i can think, i'm tripping over my own feet, almost falling back. but i feel rafe's large hand quickly land on my lower back, saving me from the tumble.

"woah, there, did you already have that much to drink?" he jokes.

i stare at him, my face probably matching the color of a budweiser can. "i...uh...i..um..." i feel myself babbling on, unable to form a single thought as he has his hands on my body. "s-sorry about that. but i...i've only had one beer, i'm just a total klutz sometimes i swear."

he keeps his hand on my back, i can feel him slightly rubbing it, sending goosebumps all over my body. he keeps looking into my eyes, which seems to be his favorite hobby at this point. "well, i'm glad i caught ya." we stand there in silence for what feels like an eternity, until i remember where i am. who i am here with.

my friends.

i frantically look around, making sure they aren't looking at me dying under rafe’s touch. i pull away from him quickly.

"don't worry they aren't looking." he reassures, grabbing my beer and opening it for me. "i assume it's your friends you are looking for." he hands me back the cold beverage, our fingers brushing against each other.

i quickly snap my hand back and look up at him, he has a small smile on his face as he looks down at me. "sorry, but, i mean...you understand, right? my friends don't like you, you don't like them. if they see me talking over here with you...it'll be a whole thing."

"i didn't peg you as someone who cares about what other people thought about them. i don't know, i mean you did admit to me very easily your love for dolphin watching." he smirks as he grabs a can of beer and opens it. "just saying."

i want to hide away forever. "p-please don't mention that to anyone else. please." i beg with an awkward smile.

"i won't, i won't. don't get so freaked out." he takes a long sip of beer. "it's kinda cute." he says so nonchalantly.

did he just call me cute?

this is a prank, this is merely a big joke to him. it has to be.

i can tell i took too long to process what he just said because he nudges me lightly with his elbow. "did i lose you there?"

i shake my head and laugh. "sorry, i'm all good." we stand there, sipping our beers in silence. "why are you here?" i ask with no hesitation, which earns me a wide-eye reaction from rafe. "that was rude but...like for real, why? you never come to pogue parties. i thought we were too beneath you to ever join us."

"i mean, you have a point." he looks down at me with a smirk, which makes me flip him off. he chuckles at me and sips his beer. "honesty?"

"please." i say.

he sighs and looks around. "i'm here to see you."

i choke on the sip of beer i'm taking, too shocked at what he just told me. i watch as he steps forward in concern and tries to put his hand on my back, but i move away quickly. i cough agressively before turning to him. "i-i'm sorry, what?" i almost laugh in his face.

"i'm pretty sure you heard me, y/n. i'm here for you." he admits.

i stare at him, waiting for him to laugh, admit that it was a joke, or even a ploy to mess with the pogues like some kind of goddamn trojan horse. "you're serious?"

"i think you would know if i'm lying." he shrugs.

i stand there, unable to wrap my head around what he just said to me. "you're so full of shit." i blurt out.

he just laughs. "am i now?"

"you're here to see me? the girl whose name you couldn't even remember a few days ago?" i cock my eyebrow at him.

"is it so horrible to believe?" he questions. i look at him, trying to tell if this is real or fake. he waves his hand in front of my face. "i lost you there again."

"i'm sorry, it's just...i'm me...and you're you. we exist on totally different planets...universes." i tell him.

"yet here we are, right next to each other on planet earth." he says.

he got me there.

"y/n!?" i hear kiara yell.

rafe turns his head to the voice calling my name and then back to me. "that's your cue to leave, i think."

i cannot turn away from him, too dumbfounded about the past 5-minute conversation we just had. "you're not slick." i say, starting to walk away backwards so i'm facing him.

"i didn't think i was being slick!" he says, with his hands up in his defence.

"i see through you and your lies, rafe cameron! i really do!" i yell at him as i get further away.

"yeah, i'd like to see you try, y/n y/l/n!" he shouts back, smiling at me.

i crack a smile back to him and flip him off before walking into the crowd, looking for kiara.

she comes up and puts her shoulder around me. "you all good? was he bothering you?" she asks, looking back to where rafe and i were.

i follow her gaze and see rafe still standing there with that same look on his face. "no, he wasn't. i'm all good, i swear." i say honestly. "just having a small talk."

"with the kook prince? no one ever just has a 'small talk' with rafe cameron, y/n." she says, squeezing me tighter.

"well i guess i'm the first person to ever do so." i shrug and continue to walk back towards the boys, trying to hide the stupid smile rafe cameron put on my face.

[z0mbie1uvr]

i think having to get up at 4-5 am for work the past month has jumpstarted my brain into feeling tired again at night

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! I wanted to request a story where doctor!Remus and you are dating. You're out with James and Sirius whilst he's at work and you pass out/are sick/whatever you think fits the story and they freak out and take you to the hospital, where Remus sees you and loses his mind. He takes care of you and the guys are there for moral support. Also, reader is afraid of doctors in general but specially needles so putting that IV on is a hassle in itself hehe.

Thanks in advance!!!!

Hi, thanks for requesting!

cw: fear of hospitals and needles, somewhat angsty, mention of vomit (in the past tense, if that helps), this was sort of weird to write because I don't usually write reader arguing with their love interest like this but I hope it came out okay

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

You’re alerted to Remus’ arrival by Sirius’ shrill voice. 

“Finally! I’ve been texting you.” 

“We’re not really encouraged to be checking our phones during busy shifts,” says Remus. He sounds sharp and tired, and you look up from where your head rests on James’ shoulder just as he comes to a stop in front of your chair. A creased brow and gentle hands feeling at your forehead. “Hi, darling. Seems like that flu’s gotten a bit worse, hm?”

“You told us to check in on her,” Sirius goes on, “and we did, and we found her basically in a puddle of her own sick.” 

“She’d been sick in the toilet, and then fell asleep on the bathmat,” James clarifies. “But she seemed really very ill.” 

“Let’s go back,” Remus slides an arm around your waist, hoisting you up against his side and helping you walk towards the double doors that lead out of the waiting area. “What was her temp at when you found her?” 

“We don’t know.” Sirius trails behind, exasperated. “We couldn’t figure out where you kept your thermometer, and she was hardly in a state to say.” 

Remus makes a worried humming sound. “How are you feeling, dovey?”

“Tired,” you sigh, hoping you’re not leaning too hard against him but having a difficult time recalling what walking normally feels like, “‘nd my head hurts.” 

“She seems a bit better than when we first found her,” James says. You think you detect some worry in his tone as well. “She was just waking up then, and Sirius got her to drink some water in the car.” 

“Doesn’t sound like you’ve been taking very good care of yourself,” Remus murmurs, just for you. He kisses your head. “Poor love, I knew I shouldn’t have come to work today.” 

“M’alright,” you say, letting him help you onto a small cot in a curtained-off room. Sirius and James file in behind you, and Remus shuts the curtain once they’re inside. 

You look at him, and your surroundings, the machines and tools and the overwhelming harshness of it all, start to sink in for you. 

“Can you take me home?”

Remus’ expression is gentle. “Not yet, sweetheart. You should be feeling much better once I do, though, yeah?” He brushes a piece of hair away from your face, encouraging you to lie back on the pillow. “Would one of you want to hop up here with her?” he asks the other boys, then to you: “You don’t mind sharing your bed, do you?”

“No,” you say, somewhat bemusedly. Sirius grins at you, climbing over you to lie down by your side. 

“Thanks. I’m just gonna get your vitals now, dove.” 

You feel a bit silly, but your nerves worsen as Remus checks you over, sticking plasticy things in your ear and cold metal on your back and making his various concerned faces. He must notice something when he takes your pulse, because he thumbs over the skin of your forearm comfortingly. Sirius, noticing, works an arm under your shoulders and pulls you close to his side. 

“Alright,” Remus says in what you recognize to be his most soothing voice, “look at Sirius for me, please.” 

You, of course, look in the opposite direction of where he wants you, and he’s taking your arm, pushing up your sleeve. 

“Remus.” Betrayal sounds in your voice as you pull away from him, holding your arm close to your side. 

He sighs. “You need fluids and medicine to get better. You want to go home, yeah?” 

“I don’t want an IV,” you say in a tight voice. 

Remus softens. He rubs your leg through your pajama pants. “I know, babydove, but you need to have one. I’ll get it over with as quickly as I can.” 

“I had to have one last summer, when I got dehydrated,” James pipes up. He’s stolen a small stool likely meant for the doctor and is swiveling back and forth restlessly. “It wasn’t as bad as you might think. I hardly remembered it was there most of the time.” 

“I just don’t want to,” you say again, voice going quiet and frail. Your vision starts to blur. 

“Take a deep breath,�� Remus coaches in that lulling voice. It’s half working, a familiar sort of comfort wrapping like a blanket around your frazzled nerves. You feel torn between your trust in your boyfriend and your absolute terror of everything that happens in a hospital. “You’re alright, yeah? This is the last thing you have to do for me. After, you can rest or have a nap, and when you’re well enough you can go home, okay? I might even be able to go with you.” 

You shake your head wordlessly, feeling ridiculous and childish but altogether petrified as you wipe tears from underneath your eyes. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” His brows pinch, and he leans over, kissing your temple. “You’ll be okay, I promise. Look over at Sirius, yeah?” 

You cry but don’t resist as Sirius uses the arm around your shoulders to turn your face away, feeling Remus take your arm in his grasp. His fingers press gently into the crook of your elbow. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Sirius says quietly. He touches his lips to your forehead. “You’ve got this, babe, it’ll be over before you know it.” 

Remus is obviously doing his best to make good on this promise. He ties the tourniquet quickly, and something cold and wet swipes over your skin. The bite of the needle doesn’t come as a surprise, but you take in a tiny, petrified breath anyway. It rasps wetly in your throat. 

“You’re alright,” Remus murmurs, undoing the tourniquet as he speaks. “You’re doing so well, almost done now.” 

You’re not in pain, necessarily, but the sensation of a foreign object in your arm is distinctly unsettling, and Sirius makes a soft sound of distress when your weeping worsens. None of this is helping your headache, either. Your sinuses throb. 

“There.” You hear tape ripping, and then Remus is pressing it carefully over the spot in your arm. “There, done.” 

Sirius lets go of your face. The moment you turn around Remus’ is on you, brushing away your tears and kissing your hairline apologetically. 

“That’s it, darling, you can relax now. You did so well. Do you feel alright?” 

“He means are you cross with him,” James translates helpfully. 

Remus gives his friend an exasperated look, but his smile is sheepish. “That too, I suppose.” 

“Honestly?” Your voice is pitchy. It scratches against your flu-torn throat. “A little, but not really. I’ll get past it.” 

Remus gives a little laugh. “Oh, my love.” He bends forward, wrapping you up in a hug. “Thank you. I can live with that.” He holds the back of your head, rubbing between your shoulder blades firmly. When he lets you go, it’s with a kiss to your brow. “Sirius, get out of her bed. She needs to rest.” 

“Excuse me?” Sirius is affronted. “I think I’ve just proven I make an excellent pillow. And where am I supposed to sit? James has taken the only stool.” 

“He can stay,” you tell Remus. 

“Thank you, gorgeous. See? Jamie, come over here so we can watch a film on your phone.” 

Remus rolls his eyes, stepping aside to let James scoot by on his stool. “Fine, but try to get some actual sleep. I want your temperature down when I come back to check on you, yeah?” 

“You’re the doctor,” Sirius points out, getting cozy on his side of the bed as you and James scroll through films. “What’s she supposed to do, will it down? Sod off.” 

Remus heaves a long-suffering sigh, pulling off his gloves and dropping them in the trash can. “So glad you’re here.” 

“And where would your girl be if we weren’t, Rem?” asks James, looking up from his phone to raise his brows. “She’s lucky to have us.” 

Remus rolls his eyes, leaving the room. “Aren’t we all.”

[rainylana]

“Takin’ care of my best girl.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: reader has a panic attack during the night.

warnings: panic attack, anxiety, tears and descriptions of anxiety symptoms, hurt/comfort, fear of allergic reaction/throat swelling.

You’re sitting on the porch. The air is cool and breezy against your face, the moon shines a calming light on the grass in from of you, making it shimmer. There’s cats roaming in trash cans. Maybe they’re raccoons, actually. It was a beautiful night, but you weren’t really able to enjoy it.

Your heart was pounding, head aching and body trembling with fear, a fear you didn’t know what it exactly was. Your stomach was so twisted with knots and nerves you thought you’d surely pass out. It hurt to breath. You couldn’t breath. Your hands were cradling your head, holding your body tight and hoping it would pass.

It always passed. It always went away and you were always okay. They didn’t normally get this bad. You were getting so much better at handling them. For some reason tonight wasn’t the case. You debated waking Eddie up, but you hated keeping him up with you when you got this way. It wasn’t fair to him.

You had tried all the things to help you. You squeezed an ice cub in your palm, took a cold shower, tried watching to tv to distract yourself. You couldn’t stop swallowing, testing to see if your throat was closing up, which was now raw and irritated from your constant swallowing. You tried taking deep breaths, hands shaking as you placed a hand over your chest, grasping at your shirt.

Once you thought you were getting better, it would start up again. The sudden racing of your heart that made you breathless. After a few minutes, you began to pace, gripping at your chest and willing it to go away. What if there was something wrong with you? Were your lungs actually closing? Were you having an allergic reaction?

That’s what got you every time. You always thought you were dying, and you never were.

You needed to go to the hospital. You couldn’t stand it anymore. You’d been to the er many times for panic attacks, but what if it was serious this time? With trembling legs you walked back inside to your bedroom, rounding the bed and shaking Eddie urgently.

“Eddie?” Your still holding your chest. “Eddie?”

His eyes flutter open, squinting in the dark. “Hmm?”

“I’m scared.” You say, bringing up a nail to bite. “I think something might be wrong.”

Those key words had him sitting up, rubbing his eyes. He leans over and switches on the light, looking up to take you in. He knows what’s wrong immediately, lifting the blanket so he can get out of bed. “What’s going on?” His voice is tired and gruff. “You anxious about something?”

You shake your head yes, grasping at your throat. “I- I uh, I think my throat might be swelling up. Maybe I ate something.”

He nods slowly, bringing his hands up to ghost at your arms. “What brought this on? Did it just start?”

“No, I’ve been up awhile.” You say, trying to swallow again. You do, but harshly, pushing out a choked breath that has you pacing around the room. “Eddie, I’m scared.”

“You’re alright, baby.” He’s following you, grabbing your hand. “Come on, let’s go out to the living room.” He guides you out there, sitting you on the kitchen chair by the stove. “I’ll make you some tea.”

Your eyes start to well up and you shake your head. “No, I- I think we should go to the hospital, Eddie.” Your voice came out desperate.

He’d done this with you so many times, yet the urgency and fear in your voice always made him nervous, even though he knew you were completely fine. He puts the tea in the microwave, setting it for two minutes before he’s crouching in front of you. “Hey,” He’s grasping your face. “You’re alright. You know that. We just have to work through it okay? Like we always do.”

You let out a sob that makes his heart ache, a tear dropping town to his wrist. “But I’m scared.”

“I know you are.” He coos, petting your hair. “If you really want to go I’ll take you, but you’re strong enough to fight this, baby. I’m right here with you, right? We can get through this.” He leans up and kisses your forehead, then your cheek, going back to the microwave to let you think.

Your knee is bouncing quickly, your knuckles tapping at the table like you’re trying to communicate through morse code. Your breathing gets heavier and heavier, your head getting harder to keep up. You gasp, groaning loudly as you lean over.

He’s bringing the cup of tea over to you quickly, sitting it on the table to hold your back. “Just breath, sweetheart.” He’s rubbing your back, crouching beside you. “You’re alright.”

You start to sob, head between your knees as you fight to be sick. You hiccup, shoulders shaking with your cries. You reach to grip his arm. “My stomach hurts so bad.”

It wasn’t rare for you to throw up when you got worked up. He quickly brought the kitchen trashcan over to you, sitting it in front of you so you could have it at the ready.

“Keep breathing.” He instructs you, bringing the tea over to you. “Here, try and drink some of this.” He wasn’t ever sure if the tea helped, but it made him feel useful when you got to feeling poorly.

When your tea is gone, after practically gulping down the hot liquid, he’s rubbing your shaking shoulders, trying to get the knots out of muscles. He switches on the tv to gilligans island, the episode where the professor is trying to make a phone out of a coconut and a banana peel.

You keep crying through half of the episode, coiling over here and there. When you did, he rubbed the back of your neck and kissed your shoulder, telling you to breath and that you were going to get through it.

When you’re three episodes in, your tears have stopped and you’re left with nothing but embarrassment and humiliation, your face beat red as you begin to mutter an apology. “I’m sorry.” Your voice is shaky and hoarse. He’s sitting beside you now, his arm tossed around your shoulders.

“Don’t be.” He smiles, tapping your nose. “Just doing my job.”

“Your job?” You sniffle.

“Takin’ care of my best girl.” He kissed you, a quick peck on the lips as he leans over and turns off the living room light, snuggling back into the couch and pulling you into his chest.

[st7rnioioss]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡ is there someone else?

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: matt sturniolo x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and matt get into an argument, but end up making up again.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: angsty, argument, happy ending, kissing, swearing.

a/n: hi guys. sorry if this sucks ass, ive never rlly attempted to write angst before. hope i did it somewhat right LMFAOOO.

i took inspo from @evie-sturns 's empty bed!! make sure to check theirs out if u havent already😉😉

───────── 🐇

The last few days had been rough for you. Work had completely consumed all of your time and energy out of you.

Your days consisted of waking up, drinking a redbull, work, redbull, more work, and sleep. This cycle had left you completely ruined Friday night.

Finally, you closed your computer, looking at the clock in your kitchen.

12:46 am. Fuck.

You slowly opened the door into your and Matt’s room, finding him sitting back against the headboard, watching TikTok. You slowly snuggled into bed beside Matt, wrapping an arm around his waist, trying to pull him closer to you. He didn’t budge. You kinda expected him to put his phone down and wrap his arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace, but no.

“Matt, is everything alright?” you mumbled, looking up at him. He didn’t pay attention to his phone that was playing, but he was avoiding your stare.

“Hm,” was all he said, continuing to mindlessly scroll. This was very unlike Matt, which irritated you. What the fuck had you done to piss him off this much? Normally he wouldn’t keep his hands off of you.

“Alright..” you murmured, almost whispering as you turned your back to him, trying to fall asleep. Of course, you couldn’t. You never went to bed without a “goodnight” or at least a kiss on the forehead. There was silence for God knows how long, until he put his phone down to go to sleep. He turned his back against yours. This kinda pissed you off as well, but you didn’t act on it. Instead, you turned to face his back, running a hand from his shoulders down his back.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he snapped, pulling away from your touch.

What the actual fuck? 

“Matt, what the fuck is wrong with you? You’ve been acting strange all day! Just tell me what’s going on. Is it me? Work? Your brothers? Fans?” you tried guessing, but he didn’t budge. He didn’t want to join you for lunch earlier, dinner, even when you asked him if he wanted to go for a walk, which he normally never let down.

You were sitting up, leaning over his body that was in a fetal position. He then sat up in front of you, looking down at you, his face serious.

“You wanna know what’s wrong? You’ve been ignoring me all fucking week. We haven’t exchanged a word, you’ve gone to bed without telling me, and we’re eating dinner at different times now, and you’re always on your goddamn phone! Are you avoiding me?” he yelled with a frown, his lower lip quivering. What? 

“Matt, you’re starting to sound like my mom! I’ve been working my ass off all fucking week, don’t put it all on me! I’m sorry that I’m busy working and can’t be all over you all the time, but I actually have meetings to be in, emails to answer, and reports to write!” you yelled back. Tears were now rolling down your cheeks. You didn’t realize it until now, but practically your whole body was shaking, from both anger, but also an intense amount of anxiety. You’ve only been in a fight with Matt once, and it never got to this point.

There was silence for a bit. Your eyes were darting between his, your breaths quickening.

“Y/n, is there someone else?” he then whispered, his teeth gritted. Tears were brimming in his waterline, ready to roll down his cheeks. You stiffened. Someone else?

“What- Matt, no! No, there is no one else!” you were blinking quickly, not even trying to hold back the tears that were forming in your eyes, once again.

“I’ll go sleep on the couch…” he whispered with a slow nod, grabbing his pillow from the bed, and standing up to walk to the couch. Um, what?

You lied in bed for an hour or two. Maybe three. Your mind was still processing what you and Matt had just discussed. Had I really been doing all that unintentionally? Am really such a shitty girlfriend? Then you decided to go down to the living room where Matt was. You just couldn’t agree to go to sleep while being mad at each other. 

Slowly, you listed down the stairs into the living, immediately spotting Matt on the couch, again tucked up in a fetal position.

“Matt? Are you awake?” you whispered, leaning over him to run a hand through his hair. Matt then slowly turned his head, opening his red eyes to look at you.

“Oh, Matt..” you cooed, frowning your brows. He had been crying, hard. Matt’s pillow was basically drenched. You sat down on the couch, cupping his face to pull him into your chest.

Matt immediately broke into sobs, wrapping his arms around your waist, just above your hip.

“I’m so so sorry, Matt. Work has been sucking the energy out of me. I’ve been such a shit girlfriend,” your voice broke a couple of times as you whispered, pressing a kiss to his head. Matt was still crying, nuzzling his face into your shirt (which had been his once).

“No, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have overreacted like that, I know how tough it can be. I’m so sorry, I just- I miss you. I feel like I haven’t spoken to you for a whole week,” he cried, pulling you even closer to him. His fingers were trailing up and down your back, occasionally rubbing circles against your soft skin.

“I know, and that’s my fault. I need to balance work and my life with you. You mean the world to me.” you chuckled slightly through your own tears. “And no, there is no one else. I’m so madly in love with you, you wouldn’t believe it,” you laughed, earning a soft chuckle from Matt as well. 

He raised his head from your embrace, looking up at you with a soft smile.

“I love you, y/n,” he whispered, pulling you closer to him, and leaving a gentle kiss on your lips. A small smile played on your lips as he kissed you. You then pulled away, resting a hand on his cheek, gently wiping the, almost dried-out, tears off of his cheeks.

“I love you even more. And I’m sorry for being an ass, again. I swear, I’ll make it up to you this weekend,” you whispered, a giggle leaving your lips as you realized Matt was blushing.

You ended the night cuddled up with Matt on the couch. The both of you were way too tired to go all the way up to your bedroom, but you didn’t mind. At all actually. The tight space, huge soft blanket, Matt’s body pressed up against yours, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. Couldn’t get any better. He occasionally left small I love you’s, kisses to the back of your neck, down to your shoulder, and the crook of your neck, which made you chuckle tiredly since it tickled.

“Matt stop, I’m way too tired. We can do this all day tomorrow, I promise, just please let me sleep,” you yawned, trying to push him away.

“Fine,” he huffed, leaning closer to you. “We should go out for lunch on Sunday. I’ll pay,” he mumbled, his voice rasped from the crying earlier, his fingers playing with your hair.

“Is that an invite? Or an order?” you giggled, turning your head to face him in the dim light from the moon.

“Take it as I don’t have a choice, hm?”

“Alright then, as long as you pay you’ve got my attention,” you joked, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. You’re sure he was blushing because the rest he was saying just came out as stutters and nervous mumbles.

a/n: heloo i hope u liked this🤗 i dont know why i linked the song, i just really like the cover LMFAOOOO

taglist: @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lilies @toriiniie @lacysturniolo @ukiyosturniolo @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @sturniolho @cupidzsq

[unfinishedslurs]

party king (steddie)

“You want me to what?”

“Go to a party with me,” Eddie says, looking at Steve like he’s the weirdo here. “What’s the big deal, King Steve? You’ve been to plenty of parties.”

“You know, no one actually called me that,” Steve tells him, abandoning his tapes to put his hands on his hips. “Billy started it. I think he just wanted people to call him a king.”

Eddie visibly considers this before nodding, like it makes sense. Which it does. Billy was, in Steve’s private thoughts, an egotistical maniac who needed to calm down.

May he rest in peace.

“But you’ll come to the party with me, right?”

“Give it up, Eddie,” Robin calls from where she’s rewinding tapes. “Steve hasn’t been to a party in forever. He’s basically a grandpa now.”

“Hey!” Steve objects. That’s rich, coming from her. Going to bed at nine some nights so he gets a few more hours of sleep before waking up in a cold sweat does not make him a grandpa. It just makes him traumatized  

“Steeeeeeeve,” Eddie whines, widening his eyes until it looks like they’re going to pop out of his sockets. His exaggerated pout isn't going to do him any favors either. No matter what the kids say behind his back (looking at you, Henderson) he isn't a pushover.

“Why would I want to go to a high school party?” He crosses his arms, leaning against the counter. “I graduated. I have better things to do with my time.”

“Like lose arcade games to freshmen?” Robin asks. He flips her the bird.

“Please, Steve?” Eddie asks. “Pretty please? Pretty pretty please, with cherries and whipped cream and six little nuggets on top?”

“What the hell are you even saying anymore?”

“You want him to eat his babies?” Robin shrieks. “Like Kronos? Is one of them going to cut off his head and free the rest?”

Eddie’s eyes light up, and Steve slaps a hand over his mouth. He doesn’t know who that guy is, and he doesn’t want to deal with the two of them chattering over whatever movie villain he’s assuming is in their weird cult classic films when he still doesn’t know why Eddie is asking him to this party.

He doesn’t even flinch when Eddie licks his hand.

“I’ve been slobbered on by actual monsters,” he says flatly. “Your spit has zero effect on me.”

Eddie bats his eyes and gives his palm a kiss, right where he’d laved his tongue. Steve rolls his eyes and wipes his hand on the side of Eddie’s face.

“Hey!”

“Don’t dish what you can’t take,” Steve says. “Now, why exactly am I getting asked to go to a high school party?”

“Jessica Roberts needs some kush, and she asked me to sell there.”

“Okay? Still not answering my question.”

“There’s gonna be jocks at the party,” Eddie finally confesses, “and I don’t know if they’ll try shit. But given my track record lately…”

“So you need a bodyguard?”

“Hey!” Steve shouts, and is summarily ignored by everyone. So he does what any normal person would do, and slams an abandoned beer bottle against the edge of the counter so it shatters. 

The jocks turn and look at him after that.

Steve glances down at the jagged edges of the bottle in his hands, flipping it like it’s his old ice cream scoop. Yeah, this should work. 

“Leave him alone,” he says, steely inflection to his voice. 

“Or what, Harrington?” One of them asks. “Heard you just been sittin’ in this room all night. What, you hanging around the queers now? Didn’t take you for a f-”

He stops talking when Steve grabs him by the hair and presses the broken bottle against his throat.

“Here’s what's gonna happen,” he says quietly, taking a look at his buddy. He’s let go of Eddie, a lot more spooked now that his friend is shaking in his Nike’s. “You’re going to leave this room. You’re going to leave Munson here alone. You’re not going to bother him, or anyone else in his dragon club ever again. If I hear that you or your little friends are fucking with him, I have a very nice nail-studded baseball bat in my trunk I’d be more than happy to introduce you to. Capisce?”

“Woah, woah, woah,” the guy that was holding Eddie says. “What the hell, Harrington?”

Steve doesn’t break eye contact with the guy he’s threatening. “Capisce?” He asks again, putting a little more force into the word.

“C-capisce.”

“Good,” he says, shoving him away. “Now get outta here.”

They scramble away. Steve walks over to the trash can and throws away the remains of the bottle, running a hand through his hair. He finally turns around to see Eddie staring at him with wide eyes, frozen.

“Sorry-”

“Fuck me.”

“What?”

Eddie’s entire face flushes, like he didn’t mean to say that. “Uh.”

Steve looks at him, and then around the kitchen they’re in. Glass and beer on the floor, music blasting loud enough to set him on edge, a crowd of people that look at him like a zoo exhibit. Fuck, his head hurts. 

“Yeah, okay,” he decides. “We’re going to mine, though.”

“Wh-what?” Eddie looks like a deer in headlights, even though Steve’s offering exactly what he asked. 

“I…have no idea what I’m doing,” Eddie confesses. 

“Oh, are you not…” He trails off, gesturing towards Eddie’s back pocket. “I assumed…”

Eddie laughs abruptly, slapping a hand over his mouth like he startled himself with it. “You know hanky code, Harrington?”

“Can you call me Steve when you’re in my bed?” He’s already got his shirt off, for God’s sake. “Listen, man, if you don’t want this, it’s no biggie.” He starts to get off, and Eddie’s hand clamps over his thigh. 

“No, no, no, don’t you dare. Just gimme a minute, I’m processing.”

“Processing,” he repeats flatly. 

“Yes, processing. I’ve got the guy of my extremely virginal wet dreams shirtless on top of me. I did not think this would ever happen. I didn’t even know you were queer until tonight.”

Steve’s mouth shapes into an “o” of understanding. “You’re a virgin?”

“Jesus, could you focus on anything else I said?”

“You dream about me?”

“Let’s go back to the virgin part.” His fingers start nervously tapping against Steve’s leg. 

“You’re not subtle,” Steve says flatly. “I know when you stare at my ass.”

Eddie colors in a flood of bright red. “What if I wasn’t? What if I was…uh, jealous or something?”

“I guess that’d make sense, since you’re flat as a board.”

“Wh—hey!”

[zephyrchama]

Hey! Uhhh, my birthday is in two days and most my friends don’t want to celebrate with me. So could I get some comfort for an MC who is sad their human world friends don’t wanna celebrate but has the brothers by their side? I’ve been reading your fics and headcanons the whole night yesterday and they’re really good!

(Thank you!! Hope I made it in time, and I hope it's okay if I changed things up a bit to be an MC who wasn't expecting any sort of celebration. Please have a lovely day! Happy Birthday!) (Anyone who reads this, please be sure to wish seerachii a happy birthday!)

Your alarm was beeping. Just like every other day, you raised an arm and fumbled around in the sheets until your hand made contact with the alarm, turned off the noise, and sighed into the pillow. Waking up in a realm where the day-night cycle doesn’t exist was tough. Your body had a hard time keeping track of its natural rhythm.

It was a normal day. You had homework to do and errands to run. You decided ten more minutes in bed couldn’t hurt, as a treat, and felt around one more for your D.D.D.

New messages from all of the stores you frequented appeared in your inbox overnight. Fifty percent off today only! Buy 5000 grim worth of product and get a free present! Stop by in person and show this message to get a free sample! That last one vaguely intrigued you. Maybe you would stop by after the errands were complete. The kitchen was running low on trash bags, you needed a new notebook after spilling some caustic potion on your old one during class, and Satan asked you to pick up a pack of dental floss when the opportunity arose.

You slowly dragged yourself out of bed and over to the wardrobe. You wondered if it would be weird to dress a little fancier than normal, or if anyone would even notice.

Now that you were closer to the door, an odd sound caught your attention. Some kind of scuffling and movement on the other side of your bedroom door. Muffled voices. Your heart froze. Were you supposed to be on breakfast duty? Some of your housemates liked to be up early, and some of them got real cranky when their breakfast wasn’t prepared on time.

You hurried to put on whatever outfit was front and center before opening your door, expecting to see one or two grumpy demons waiting for their food. You were met with everybody, dressed in suits, in the midst of another sibling squabble. Things seemed tense and as soon as you opened the door, all of their attention turned towards you.

“You’re awake?” Beelzebub asked. “Good morning.”

This was a rare sight. Maybe your alarm clock was set to the wrong time and you woke up far later than usual. You rubbed an eye and opened your mouth to apologize for oversleeping but got cut off.

“Hold it! What in the three realms are you wearin’? You wore that same thing last week,” Mammon exclaimed, holding an arm out in front of the others as though holding them back.

Asmodeus shoved a decorative box overflowing with tissue paper into your hands. “Put this on! Go, go!” He nudged your back into your room, and they shut the door behind you.

What?

The muffled squabbling started back up. You heard Belphegor in particular complain, "I didn't get to say good morning."

"We'll do it properly the next time," Lucifer said, right before your attention was directed elsewhere.

Inside the box was a a stunning outfit. Far fancier than anything you thought of wearing that morning and custom-tailored exactly to your size. You admired it in the mirror, conflicted. This definitely seemed like a gift, but was it really? The material felt expensive. You didn't want to get your hopes up. It could be a coincidence, some new idea that Diavolo cooked up or an event you forgot to write on the calendar. But even if that were true, what a nice coincidence it was.

A hush fell over the brothers as you gripped the door handle. This was definitely weird. You swung the door open again and asked, "What's going on?"

"Happy Birthday!" a chorus of voices rang out. Some of them followed it up with "good morning!" Someone temporarily blinded you with a confetti popper.

"Sorry we forgot to say it before," Leviathan said, clapping.

Satan and Lucifer came forward to pick confetti and glitter out of your hair, congratulating you while Asmodeus fussed over your new outfit. "As I thought, it suits you! Hehe."

A mix of emotions welled up. Mostly shock. "You remembered? Or rather... you guys knew? I don't think I told you..."

"'course we knew!" Mammon boasted.

"Who do you take us for?" Belphegor took one of your hands while Beelzebub grabbed the other. They went ahead and intertwined their fingers with yours before anyone else could object.

"We have a lot planned for today, but first, was there anything on your schedule?" Satan asked. "I hope you didn't make too many plans."

"Yeah," you said truthfully, "if there's time I was going to pick up that floss and maybe some new stationary."

Asmodeus laughed and slid an arm around your shoulder. "Oh, you're so funny!"

"You can do that another day," Lucifer chuckled. "We have better things in store for you."

"I especially can't wait for dinner." "Beel, that's a surprise," Leviathan chided, poking the glutton in his side. "Oh, right. You didn't hear that."

They had a whole day of activities planned, just for you? You teared up a little. It was impossible to cover up with your hands being held, so you looked at the floor to try and collect yourself. Just for a moment.

Of course they noticed. Leviathan was alarmed and rushed to ask, "What's wrong?"

Lucifer's confidence wavered ever so slightly, a rare happenstance. He stepped forward with a worried expression and a handkerchief if you needed it.

"Mammon, what did you do?" Belphegor eyed his brother suspiciously.

"Why me? Nothin'!" he stammered, kneeling to get a better look at your face. "What's wrong, huh?"

These guys belonged to a big family. They might fight, but they always had each others backs and supported one another when the time came. You belonged to their big family. They might be overwhelming and needy, but they always had your back and supported you when the time came. You were an inseparable part of them. It was an inscrutable realization.

What was there to say? Thank you? That sounded far too simple to express the complex emotion pooling in your gut. You squeezed the hands that had reached out to you first. They squeezed back. Maybe it was okay to be a little selfish on your birthday in the Devildom.

A wavering smile spread across your face. "I can't wait. What are we going to do?"

[daddyslilchickenfingers2]

Slutmas Day 2

Morning Wood (Chris)

Request: y/n and Chris are best friends and y/n always sleeps in chris’s room from time to time they cuddle but end up separating in the middle of the night. Not this day, y/n came over and slept with Chris like normal but they never moved from the cuddling position they were in and when they woke up y/n felt chris’s morning wood, he wakes up and apologizes but the only thing on y/n’s mind is to get rid of chris’s morning wood

Warnings: friends to lovers, flirting, cuddling, subby Chris, use of mamas, slight begging, unprotected sex, Chris cumming in Y/n

“Don’t apologize for your morning wood”

Y/n’s pov

It was a Friday evening, meaning I would be heading over to my best friend’s house within a few minutes. Every Friday night, when the triplets are in LA, we have a sleepover at their house, it’s always super fun and this is the first time seeing each other since tour. I grabbed my bag and keys before driving over to their cute little townhouse, pulling into the driveway once I had arrived and letting myself in with my key. I quickly rushed up the stairs and was greeted by some of my favorite people.

Matt was the first to greet me, giving me a bone crushing bear hug, “Oh my god! I missed you so much Y/n/n!” he beamed, resulting in Chris running up the stairs. We pulled away from the hug and I gave Nick a quick hug as we pulled apart upon hearing Chris trip. *Thud* “Ow fucking shit!” he yelled before running up the rest of the stairs, immediately running over to me. I thought Matt’s hug was bone crushing, but Chris’ was 10x harder, apparently he had been struggling without me by his side.

He tackled me onto the couch after screaming like a little girl, “Ahhhh! Y/n, holy fuck I missed you so much! Hug me back tighter bitch!” he exclaimed. “Bub, as much as I missed you, I can’t breathe!” I said slightly coughing, “Chris! You’re going to kill her, let go!” Nick yelled, causing Chris to finally let go, slicking out his tongue at Nick like a child. “Y/n/n you have no idea how annoying this kid is without you there to put him in check” Matt whined, making us all laugh.

We ordered pizza for dinner and stayed up watching movies until around 2am before deciding to go to get to bed, seeing as Matt had dozed off and I was half asleep on Nick. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, gently shaking Matt awake before looking up to see Chris standing in front of me with his had out. “Come on kid, let’s go to sleep” he smiled, everyone said good night to each other before heading off to separate rooms.

Chris and I had a very, very close relationship/bond with each other and both of our love language is physical touch, so I’ve always slept in his room and we cuddle. Well, we’re cuddling when we fall asleep but usually end up rolling away from each other as we sleep. I was wearing some short pajama shorts and a Fresh Love shirt I stole from him while he just wore his boxers and blue plaid pajama pants.

“Have I ever told you that you look really cute when you wear my brand” he joked as we entered his room. “A few times” I rolled my eyes, crawling under his covers waiting for him to lay down. We got situated in our usual cuddling position, me being the little spoon with Chris’ strong arm wrapped around my waist, his hand firmly spread across my stomach, and his head in the crook of my neck.

I placed my hand on top of him as I scooted back, my back side now pressed up against his front side perfectly. “Goodnight nugget” I said softly, already falling asleep, “Goodnight bug” he mumbled into my neck before we drifted off the sleep. Seeing as we were so close, we had special nicknames we affectionately called each other during our moments alone.

•••

When I woke up the next morning, I was pleasantly surprised that we were still cuddling, I guess Chris really missed me since he kept a firm hold on me all night. I felt something poking my ass and was confused at first until I realized it was Chris’ dick and I suddenly felt hot all over. I wasn’t oblivious to the fact that Chris is a healthy 20 year old male who got morning wood, it’s just never happened where I felt it.

Chris let out a small wine as he woke up, suddenly getting tense when he realized he was hard. “Good morning Chrisy” I mumbled, causing him to quickly apologize. “Shit Y/n/n, I’m so sorry, fuck!” he panicked, trying to roll away and excuse himself to the restroom, but I had other plans. I was oddly turned on and decided to tease him a bit, grabbing his hand to keep him close.

“Don’t apologize for your morning wood” I said, pushing my ass against his hard on. “Let me help you, please? I’ll make you feel so good baby” I asked, turning around and trialing one of my hands down to his bulge while the other came up to cup his jaw. I was gently stroking his cheek with my thumb, I thought it was cute how flustered he was, cheeks painted on a pink hue.

He didn’t give me an answer so I gently squeezed his hard on, watching his mouth drop open as his breath hitched. “Do you like that, Chris? Want me to help you get off?” I teased, moving my hand from his jaw down to his shoulder. I started softly palming his cock as I spoke, “Y-Yes, please help me, I need you so badly mamas” he said, instantly making my panties soaking wet.

“What would you like me to do, handsome?” I teased, removing my hand from his cock. “Use me, make yourself feel good. That’s all I’m good for, right?” he whined, which was extremely hot, I never pegged Chris to be the submissive type in bed. “You’re more than just a useless slut, baby. You do sound really pathetic though” I smirked while discreetly removing my shorts.

Chris let out another frustrated whine, “Just fucking use me!” he begged, eyes going wide when I caught him off guard and flipped him onto his back. I straddled his lap and started grinding down, causing a few whines to pass his lips. “Fuck mamas, you look so hot like this! Please ride me while wearing that shirt, you’ll make me c-cum so much if you do!” he stuttered over his words a bit due to my grinding.

I decided to stop the teasing, pulling down my panties as he took off his pants and boxers, I spit down on Chris’ cock. I watched as his eyes rolled back and the way his cock twitched, before I lined myself up and dropped down on his cock. “Holy fuck, you’re so tight!” he loudly groaned. I had started off slow due to how girthy Chris’ cock was, feeling the slight burn turn into pleasure.

“Filling me up so good baby, I could get used to this” I moaned, speeding up my movements. “Fuck, fuck, fuck- ahh shit!” Chris whimpered, “Does that feel good?” I teased, kissing down his neck, lightly nibbling at the skin. “S-So good mamas, please mark me up like a whore!” “My little slut” I said beneath my breath. I started moving even faster as Chris grabbed my waist and started thrusting his hips up to meet my own.

My lips met his neck, sucking multiple deep purple and red marks into his skin, moving down across his chest. I experimentally licked across his left nipple before moving to the right and lightly sucking. Chris’ grip on my waist tightened and I felt his fingernails piercing my skin, “AHH AHH FUCK! OH F-FUUUUCK YES MAMAS! HOLY SHIT IM GONNA CUM! FUCK PLEASE LET ME CUM!” he nearly screamed out.

“You wanna cum like a slut for me baby? Your brothers can hear you begged like a bitch, you know?” I tightened around him, very close to the edge as well. “HOLY FUCK Y/N! PLEASE LET ME CUM PLEASE! I NEED IT SO BAD MAMAS PLEASE!” Chris actually screamed out this time in a whiny moan. “Yeah? Rub my clit for me, you can cum after me” I whimpered, placing my lips onto his in a sloppy, heated makeout.

“Oh Chris! I’m gonna cum, want you to fill me up- shit!” I moaned, cumming all over his cock. “Thank you! Thank you for letting me cum, thank you mamas! Look so hot wearing my Fresh Love shirt- fuck!” he cried out as he came. The feeling of his warm cum filling me up was enough to make me cum all over again, thighs shaking as I collapsed on top of him. “So good for me Chrisy” I whimpered into his neck as I pulled off his cock, a mixture of our cum dripping out of me onto his softened cock.

“So good to me mamas, let’s go take a shower” Chris soothed, helping me get up and go into the bathroom, telling me to pee while he turns on the shower. We took a fast shower, Chris helping me get dressed afterwards, deciding we should probably go get breakfast. Upon arrival in the kitchen, Matt and Nick started hysterically laughing, “OH MY GOD! KIDS SO PUSSY WHIPPED!” Nick yelled between laughter. Matt following suit with a question, “Is that how you always get him to behave?” he giggled.

“Shut up, I dont wanna hear it Matthew” I groaned at him as Chris and I sat on the couch together. “Oh my god, Y/n made you her bitch! Nick look at his neck” Matt gasped, laughing louder. Chris immediately hid his face in my neck, embarrassed, “At least he gets pussy you loser” I retorted back, running my hand through Chris’ hair. “She’s got you there Matt” Nick shrugged, coming to sit by me and turn on a movie for a well deserved movie day.

All work is subject to copyright

©️ Daddyslilchickenfingers2 2023

Do not steal my work

[strang3lov3]

I don’t like to get super personal here on tumblr because it feels vulnerable and weird. Kind of like being sung happy birthday to, but not quite as awful. But we’re getting personal today. I’m sorry. I hate this too.

I know I make comments, but I don’t think I’ve ever vocalized just how heavy some things are weighing on me right now. So I’m telling you right now that they are very heavy, lol, and I’m not handling them well (referring to my classes, the election, other personal things I don’t need to get into here). I’ve been constantly amped up since probably September, I’ve had a ridiculous twitch in my left eye since then too which I’ve been ignoring. My wake up call came today when I fainted while voting. Given other things going on with myself, I know it was absolutely stress induced, or at the very least, influenced by stress. I don’t think any amount of stress causing me to faint is a good thing lol.

I wouldn’t say anything normally, but because I’m super active on Tumblr and you all know that and also care a lot about me (as evidenced by the way you check in and wished me happy birthdays and tell me all sorts of sweet things all the time), I’m letting you know that I’m gonna be pulling back from this until probably the end of the semester. Just limiting how much I use Tumblr and the times that I do use it. Deleting it from my phone too.

It’s not really that Tumblr itself or any of you are stressing me out. My blog is always a space I love to hang out at, thanks to all of you contributing to it in such a positive way. It’s more so that I’m not giving myself any amount of time to like, breathe or exist away from this app. I’m on it constantly. It’s what I check before I go to bed and when I wake up in the morning. Any downtime at all and I’m here. Too much of anything, even if it’s good, is unhealthy. I need to take time for me, just for decompressing and existing with Tumblr in the backseat for a while. I haven’t been doing that.

That said, there are times that life in front of me really sucks and it feels good to exist with the friends in my phone, so there will probably be days I do bebop around here quite a bit. And I’m gonna continue to write. I think cutting out the thing that makes me happiest would probably do me harm. But, writing updates will likely be slower. I wanna take the time to write for you and to write well, like you deserve and how I owe it to myself.

You’re always patient and understanding so I don’t need to ask for that from you guys. Thank you for being the best.

Anyway, that’s all. Love you ❤️

[spideystevie]

bad for business

summary: steve’s good for your heart but he’s really bad for business word count: 4.5k a/n: me every time i post after being mia for months: who’s missed me! this was technically supposed to be inspired by bad for business by sabrina carpenter and then suddenly it wasn’t. not even sure there’s much of a plot but alas! also feel a little rusty at this right now, it’s been a while since i’ve really written anything but i’ve missed steve a crazy insane amount. love you, miss you, hope you all enjoy this <3

You’re late. You’re never late. 

The bell above the door to Dottie’s jingles as you hurry inside. Your fingers work on muscle memory to tie your apron around your waist as you slide through the mismatched seating arrangements inside the diner to get to the back office. 

You’re not sure if the way your stomach flips is from it being full of a single gulp of coffee or because it’s more than an hour past when you should’ve been here. The time punch on your card reads 9:07 am and your stomach lurches. Definitely not the coffee. 

It’s a Sunday, arguably your busiest day in the diner and arguably the worst day for you to show up like this. No doubt Dottie has noticed but you’re hoping against hope that she didn’t. God, what are you going to tell her?

Sorry Dottie! My super hot, super charming boyfriend wouldn’t let me out of bed this morning! Won’t happen again! 

Your face feels warm, like you’ve just spent an extensive amount of time in the sun in the middle of July. You knew you shouldn’t have stayed over last night, but you were so tired and Steve’s couch is way more comfier than yours. It really doesn’t help that his bed isn’t any different. 

“Lots of traffic this morning?” you jump, notepad falling out of your hand. Susan starts to snicker as you drop down to pick it up. There’s a smirk on her face when you rise to full height. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail and her name tag is crooked on her apron. You’re not sure you’d consider Susan one of your closest friends but you find yourselves pulled together considering she’s the only other young person working here. 

“Oh you know…,” your voice rises in pitch and you clear your throat, hitching one shoulder up to your ear in a shrug. “Sometimes you just hit every red.”

Susan’s eyes narrow. There’s only one working light on your usual route to work. Coming from Steve’s adds only two. Not to mention, you didn’t drive yourself today. Steve dropped you off, promising to pick you up at 4 on the dot when your shift ended. Susan pops her gum in her mouth, not convinced with your fib.

“Right.”

“Yeah. Now if you’ll excuse me, Cliff is waiting for me in his usual booth,” you hurry past before she can ask you anything incriminatory. You hear Dottie before you see her, on your way to grab the coffee pot. 

“You feeling okay, sweetie? You’re normally here right on the dot. An hour isn’t like you.”

Dottie’s older than most and she’s been running the diner outside Hawkins for a whopping 30 years now. She hangs out behind the counter and loves to chat with the regulars and get to know those just passing through. With rosy cheeks and gray streaked hair almost always pulled out of her face in a bun, she’s almost like another mom with how long you’ve been working here. 

You snag the excuse she basically throws you out of the air. 

“Had a bit of a rough night, but I’m feeling a lot better now, Dot. Didn’t realize I had overslept until I heard the birds chirping outside. It won’t happen again,” you say. 

You didn’t oversleep actually. Whatever natural circadian clock inside of you wakes you up at almost the same time every workday but Steve can be quite convincing when he wants to be. Your heart does a little sigh of his name. Steve. You swallow and try to blink away the image of him.

Dottie gives you a sympathetic smile with a concerned tilt of the head, taking your flustered mannerisms and the way you wipe your palms against the sides of your jeans as lingering symptoms of whatever she thinks ailed you last night. She squeezes your bicep, the press of her mixed metal rings cool against your skin.

“Take it easy today, okay? You let me know if you need anything.”

“Course, Dottie. Thank you,” you give her a smile and grab the coffee pot. 

Cliff sits at the same spot every morning. A little booth along the window wall, three down from the door to the diner. He looks a bit rough around the edges, his coat well loved and worn and his hands weathered from years of hard work. He’s worn the same baseball cap every time you’ve seen him and he’s always got a copy of the morning paper open and propped in front of his face. 

He spots you out of the corner of his eye and scoots his empty mug closer to the table’s edge. You smile and pour the coffee, leaving enough room for his two packets of Sweet ‘n’ Low to be stirred in. 

“Anything new this morning, Cliff?” 

You’ve only known Cliff on his own, but you know he used to come with his late wife Winnie for coffee every morning before she passed. He’d summarize the big news and events and she’d do the crosswords on the back. Now, you let him summarize to you and he leaves the paper on the table for you. You do the crosswords on your break. 

“Same old, same old. They’re thinking about rebuilding the mall that burned down in Hawkins a few summers ago. You hear anything about that?” He sets the paper down to the right of his coffee mug and grabs two pink packets of sweetener. You watch him tear the paper and pour them in. When he looks at you, you shake your head. 

“First time I’m hearing of it. My boyfriend used to work there before it…you know,” you mention, unable to stop the morsel of information from slipping out. A twinkle sparks in Cliff’s eye, a small smile on his face as he diverts his attention back to his mug. The spoon he’s stirring with clinks against the coffee stained ceramic walls. 

“Are you ever gonna bring this boyfriend of yours around here so I can actually see that he’s real?” He’s teasing, tapping the handle of the spoon against the rim of the mug and setting it in the gap between the coffee and the newspaper. You roll your eyes but a smile lifts your cheeks. 

“I don’t know if that’d be too good for business around here,” you joke. 

“And was he the reason you were late giving me my coffee this morning?” He's quick to cover his smirk with the coffee mug as he takes a sip. Your mouth falls agape and you fluster, shaking your head and laughing shakily. 

“Ha ha, very funny, Cliff. No, he was not. There was traffic!” Cliff makes a face at this and you don’t blame him. Has the traffic excuse ever worked for living in a small town, you wonder. “And I had a rough night and accidentally overslept, is all.”

He grabs his morning paper again and opens it up. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

The rest of the morning starts to fly by in a blur. You recite your favorites off the menu to a couple passing through from Chicago. Refill Cliff’s coffee twice, each time dodging whatever he tries to insinuate about your tardiness this morning. Sneak an extra pancake onto little Sofie’s plate with a wink. The early morning breakfast rush blows through and things start to quiet down. 

You’re wiping down the table adjacent to Cliff’s booth. His mug is empty and he’s left the paper for you like usual. The bell rings as he opens the door to leave. 

“See you tomorrow, Cliff!” you call after him and he raises a hand in a wave as he walks through the door, thanking the young man that holds it for him. 

You have to do a double take as you swipe the paper off the table. It’s not just any young man in passing holding the door, no it’s Steve coming inside Dottie’s. It’s Steve standing at the entrance in his usual Levi’s and a white tee with sleeves that seem to strain around his biceps with windswept hair and a bright smile when he sees you. 

There goes your heart again with the sigh of his name. Steve. Though maybe this time you think it was your voice instead, airy and soft. You can’t believe he’s here. It’s nowhere near 4’o’clock. You’re aware of Dottie’s eyes on you behind the counter and Susan’s from across the diner and nearly every regular scattered about as well. 

Your knees wobble at the sight of him, the disbelief fading away and giddy smile falling into place as he meets you next to Cliff’s booth. Cliff, who’s standing outside the diner and staring and you worry he might come back inside to hound you and insist you introduce him, but he doesn’t. 

Steve wraps an arm around your waist, fingers hot against the side of your stomach through the layers of your apron and shirt, and dips to press a kiss to your cheek in greeting. There’s a rush of a swoon that goes down to your toes, the bulk of it getting stuck in your abdomen and swirling like crazy.

You’re in the middle of a greasy old diner but Steve’s somehow tucked you away from prying eyes and into your own little safety bubble. He’ll be the death of you one day. Your heart’ll just keep expanding until it can’t fit inside your ribcage anymore and has no choice but to explode from adoration and kill you. 

“What are you doing here?” you wonder aloud, eyes scanning all around his face, taking in every freckle and crinkle and mole. You pause for a minute on his lips and then you blink and find his eyes. He’s smiling at you, in a way that tells you he caught that and you feel struck by that feeling of being caught in the July sun again. He looks around the diner and everyone’s attention goes back to what they were doing before.

“Thought I’d surprise you! Also, it’s supposed to rain later and you didn’t take a jacket so I brought you one.”

Only then do you notice the gray fabric in his other hand and your heart twists and flips and oh god, you think this might be the moment it explodes. He presses it into your hands, the newspaper crinkling against it. 

“What’s that?” he asks as you go to thank him. Your brow cinches for a minute before it smooths in comprehension.

“Oh! Cliff,” you point towards the door he’d just walked through, “one of the regulars, leaves the paper behind for me every morning so I can do the crosswords. A little tradition we’ve got going on.”

“A tradition? Should I be concerned?” He jokes and you laugh. 

“Oh, definitely. Cliff’s your biggest competition,” you throw back and now it’s his turn to laugh. A glittering light fills your chest. You glance over to where Dottie is engaged in conversation with a middle aged woman just passing through. She can’t hear you from this far but you drop your voice nonetheless. “No but, he did give me a bit of a hard time about his coffee being almost an hour late this morning.”

At your pointed look and sly smile, Steve winces, fingers pressing a quick squeeze against your side. An embarrassed blush blooms on his cheeks, bridging across his nose. “Right. Sorry.”

“Forgiven,” you lean up to press the quickest flash of a kiss to his cheek. You wrap your arms around the newspaper and jacket, holding them to your chest. “Do you wanna sit for a minute? I can get you some coffee? Although be warned, Dottie might come up and talk to you.”

His arm drops from around your waist and he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, coffee sounds great.”

You smile and motion him into Cliff’s booth. When he sits, he insists on holding onto the jacket and newspaper for you and you let him. He watches you take Cliff’s mug away and walk to Dottie behind the counter to get him a fresh one.

Dottie bumps her hip with yours as you pass and you give her a look. The pot’s nearly empty and you wait the few minutes it takes for it to fill, eyes catching on Steve while you wait. He’s stopped staring and has instead taken interest in the comics in the paper. 

“He’s handsome,” Dottie’s voice snaps you back into your senses. You glance at her and she’s got a special look in her eyes to match the smile on her face. You check the coffee pot that’s filling up quicker than normal. But your focus drifts back over to Steve, who senses your gaze and looks over to you and flashes a big grin. 

“Yeah,” you sigh, “he is.”

Dottie looks between the two of you and then takes a look around the diner. It’s not the usual Sunday hustle and bustle, post early breakfast rush and the impending rain could be the indicator for that. She's got Susan and Judy’ll be coming in any minute now and Pam right after at 12. When she looks back at you, you’re watching the last few drops of coffee fall into the pot. 

“Take the rest of the day,” Dottie says. Your eyes snap up to meet hers over the coffee pot between you.

“What?”

“Go sit and have coffee with that boy of yours and then go home,” it doesn’t sound like a suggestion, more like an order but you look around the diner and hesitate. 

“Dottie, it's Sunday. I can’t just leave this early on our busiest day of the week.”

“There’ll be other Sundays busier than this one. And you need your rest after the night you had. We’ll be okay, now go,” she pushes. You bite back a smile as you relent, kissing Dottie on the cheek as you pass with the full coffee pot and two mugs gripped tightly in your other hand. She shakes her head watching you cross back to the third booth from the door. 

Steve lights up when you enter his line of sight but his brow furrows at the two mugs held in your left hand. You set them on the table and fill them both with the fresh coffee before setting the pot down on the table. He watches you slide into the empty spot in front of him. The same place you assume Winnie occupied when she’d come here with Cliff. 

“Dottie’s letting me off early,” you say, grabbing an almost obscene amount of Sweet ‘n’ Low packets and dumping them into your mug. “Can you hand me a creamer?”

Steve finds himself staring at you, doctoring your diner coffee to how you like it, hearts for eyes and a wistful smile taking permanent residency on his face. When he doesn’t hand you the creamer right away, you look up, only a little confused but mostly amused at the blatant and overwhelming display of admiration across his features. 

“Steve?”

He blinks in quick succession and clumsily reaches for a creamer while you giggle and god, it’s killing him that he hasn’t kissed you right yet since he’s been here. You hold out your hand and he sets the mini pod on your palm, your fingers brushing his as they enclose around it with a thank you. 

He watches you finish stirring in the creamer, the coffee in your cup now a light shade of brown. You take a sip, both palms wrapped around the mug and your eyes on his when you set it down on the table. 

“You look nice,” you say, eyes dropping down to the simple white tee he’s wearing. When you look back up at his face, his smile is cheeky and his cheeks are flushed. It takes an incredible amount of self restraint not to kiss him across the table.

“Yeah? The plain white tee is really doing it for you?” he leans closer over the table, voice dropped just the slightest bit. You mirror his movement almost like there’s a magnet pulling the two of you together. Steve pulls one of your hands into his, weaving your fingers together across the table. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” there’s a flirtatious thrum in your voice that makes Steve grin. His mouth opens to respond, another silly flirty quip back when Dottie appears at the side of the table. 

“You kids want anything to eat?” 

The sound of her voice sends Steve jumping back against his seat, like he’s 15 and getting caught doing something he shouldn’t be. You lean back slowly, amusement clear on your face and a question in your eyes. Do you?

Steve looks from you and up to Dottie who watches with a knowing gleam in her eye. He starts to shake his head but then his eyes fall back to you and he’s repeating the question to you with his eyes. You consider it for a second and then shake your head slightly which Steve repeats to Dottie.

“No, we’re alright, thanks,” he says and Dottie nods. She grabs the coffee pot but doesn’t move. 

“Heard a lot about you…” she trails off and Steve’s eyes widen just a tad. 

“Oh! Steve. Harrington. Steve Harrington,” he fills in the blank for her, even reaching out his hand for her to shake. 

“Dottie. She talks a lot about you, Steve. Sometimes I don’t even think she realizes she’s doing it.”

You try to cover your face with your one free hand and groan, “Dottie.”

Steve lets out a small laugh and squeezes your hand, always finding it endearing to see you flustered. You slowly move your hand away, to which Steve gives you a quick wink which only makes you want to hide away again like you’re 16 with a crush. 

Dottie pulls him into an easy conversation. How is Hawkins? Where’d you both meet? And: Do you have a job? I expect only the best for my girl here, you know. And: you’ll have to come back and have something more than just coffee next time. 

By the time she’s finished and gone off to engage with the newest patron in the diner, your coffee’s finished and Steve’s has gone cold. You watch Dottie walk off and when you look back, Steve’s staring at you, soft and kind. His gaze makes you squirm. 

“I like her,” he says. 

“Uh oh, do I have to worry about having competition now?” you joke and Steve shakes his head with a laugh. 

“You don’t have to worry about anyone else, you’re the only one for me,” he confesses, rubbing his thumb against your hand. There’s that feeling like your heart might explode again with a sigh of his name, Steve. Though this time, you’re positive you’ve said it outloud.

“Steve,” you tilt your head, voice soft. He lifts your hand to kiss your knuckles and if you don’t kiss him in the next minute, you’re going to have a problem. As if he can sense it, Steve sticks a five on the table and grabs the jacket he’d brought for you as well as Cliff’s leftover newspaper.

He holds his hand out to you to help you out of your side of the booth and you take it, his palm soft against yours. You make it to the door and then pause. 

“Oh! Gotta grab my bag from the back,” you lean up to press a kiss against his cheek. “Meet you at the car?”

Steve nods, squeezing your hip briefly. He watches until you’ve disappeared into the back office before he walks out to his car. You come out not even a minute later, apron off and over your arm and bag hanging off your shoulder. There’s a slight skip in your step. 

The air smells like rain, an earthy petrichor that makes things somehow feel lighter. Steve’s leaning against the passenger side, the door already open and waiting for you. When you’re close enough, he hooks a finger through your bag strap to pull it off your shoulder. It gets caught on the crook of your elbow when you reach up to cup his cheeks with your hands. 

He’s confused for the briefest of seconds and then your lips are on his and he forgets about the bag on your shoulder. His hands fall to your hips, one of his arms wrapping tight around your waist. Something inside both of you is cheering, finally. 

You don’t think you’ll ever tire of kissing Steve. Both of you fit perfectly into the empty spots of each other, as if you were carved from the same stone upon creation. It’s a kiss almost far too explicit for outside Dottie’s diner midmorning on a Sunday but you can’t bring yourself to care. That is, until you need to come up for air. 

You pull back, Steve chasing your lips and winning. You’re almost smiling too much now for it to work, your hands sliding from his cheeks to the sides of his neck. This time, he pulls away and your chests rise and fall in sync. 

“Been needing to do that since you first walked inside,” you breathe out and Steve lets out a laugh that you can feel reverberate through you. He kisses you again, quick and soft and his hand moves to take your bag off your shoulder again. 

“And why didn’t you?” he jests, stepping back enough for you to get into his car. One of your hands rests on the top of it, the other hanging loose at your side. Steve wishes he had a camera on him just to capture you in that moment with the sun hitting you in just the right way, playful adoration in your eyes. 

“Because,” you shrug, stooping to get inside the car, holding a hand out for your bag when you’re situated. Steve passes it over and closes your door, jogging around the front of the car to get in the driver’s seat. 

“Because…?” he pries, sticking the key in the ignition but not yet turning it. You’re pulling your seatbelt across your chest, turning your head to smile at him as you click the buckle into place. 

“Because Dottie might’ve gotten suspicious as to why I was so late this morning,” another pointed look his way and Steve shakes his head, turning the engine over and quickly buckling in his seatbelt. He shifts into reverse, checking his rearview mirror and then slinging his arm across the back of your seat. 

It’s like a feast for your eyes. The stretch of his arm, a long expanse of muscle right by your head that carries a strong whiff of his cologne. The swift, smooth, one handed feel on the wheel. You’re staring unabashed, only getting knocked out of your reverie when he responds. 

“I’m never living this down.”

He glances at you, his arm dropping from your seat to shift into drive. You lean your head against the headrest and shake it with a smile. 

“So what was your excuse then? For being late?” 

He pulls onto the street to take you back towards Hawkins, his right hand leaving the wheel and dropping to find your hand. You take the liberty of slotting your fingers into the spaces between his. 

“Oh you know. Rough night being sick. Oversleeping. Like something out of Steve Harrington’s playbook for getting out of work,” you tease. He scoffs, sparing you a quick amused glance. You lift your hands to your lips in response, your smile hiding behind the kiss you press to his knuckles. 

“And did it work? Did she buy it?” 

“Oh, of course. Why do you think she let me off so early?” 

Steve looks over at you again and sees the slight smirk on your face. He shakes his head with a slight laugh. 

“Wow, you’ve been hanging around me too long. I’m rubbing off on you.”

“Like that’s such a bad thing,” you roll your eyes, turning your head so your cheek rests against the leather of the headrest. A gooey softness melts into your gaze. “You’re one of the best people I know.”

Steve smiles, his cheeks blooming with a slight twinge of pink. He doesn’t say anything, just takes his turn lifting your joined hands to his lips to litter kisses along your knuckles. Your heart goes mushy, such has been the case since you started dating Steve. The mush liquefies, seeping through your body with a shiver when you notice the picture he’s got propped on his dash. 

He’s had to have just added it recently. A grainy film capture of the two of you, you think Max must’ve taken it if you remember correctly but you haven’t seen it before. You’re both leaning against the hood of his car, Steve’s arm around your shoulders and your hand lifted to hold his hand that hangs there. A big toothy grin is spread across your face, your head tilted slightly against Steve’s shoulder. Steve’s not looking at the camera though, he’s looking at you with a lopsided smile, adoration spilling out of him clear as day. 

“When did you add that?” you ask, pointing at the picture with your free hand. Steve glances down at it and immediately breaks into a smile.

“Just the other day. Surprised it’s taken you so long to notice it,” he replies, looking over at you and then back at the road. You’re about to ask if you can somehow get a copy of your own when he says, “I have a copy for you at home, don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get it before you go back to your place.”

You smile at him, one that’s soft around the edges, a perfect mirror of how you feel. It feels so wonderful to be known and seen by somebody the way Steve knows and sees you. Making sure to get two prints of that picture of you. Bringing a jacket to work for you for the rain that doesn’t arrive until that afternoon as you’re about to leave his house to go back to yours. 

He uses it as an excuse to keep you with him for another night, something you weakly protest against because the roads aren’t completely slick yet and you can get home just fine. But he insists, his eyes round and pleading and really you can’t deny that you’d rather stay with him anyway. 

Even if it means you’re tired again in the morning and rushing to work. You think being with Steve is a worthy price to pay, you never thought you’d be so glad to be so tired. 

And, at least you’re not late this time.

[taegimood]

ummm woah what’s that! points in the opposite direction as i scramble behind my open for business sign as if i didn’t disappear without a trace for months and have totally been here the whole time oh guess it was nothing anyway hi guys

i wouldn’t be me without eternal soobin brainrot so naturally i’ve emerged to throw this old now-finished draft at you for my first post back 🫡

so the best friends to fwb to lovers pipeline is my mf roman empire i’m so serious. like bestfriend!soobin always sitting next to you with his hand casually resting on your leg at all times, not even in a suggestive way, he just gravitates towards touching you 🥺 his safe place !! imagining his huge self slumped practically in half to rest his head on your shoulder, or him just mindlessly playing with your little fingers in his big hands glitches as he sits observing the room w that soft pout and big boba eyes combo yeah you know the one- clutches chest

so then later turned fwb!soobin who’s so used to showering w his friends iykyk lmao that now that he’s fucking you, in his mind you’ve crossed over that threshold of friendship where he expects to be able to join you for your showers even when it’s nothing sexual.. is genuinely confused if you tell him no 😭

“soobin i just need some me-time”

“….you can’t have your me-time with me?” *displeased pout*

like a needy puppy fr

but like you guys having such an interesting dynamic cuz you’re just still straight-up best friends (who are actually in love with each other but neither of you realize that even tho everyone else does cue yeonjun rolling his eyes into the camera like the office) so even tho the boys are all waiting for you both to wake up from your one joint braincell’s loop of stupidity and realize the truth, (beomgyu’s words), no one actually suspects that you’re out here skipping steps and FUCKING each other, because you guys just act so normal and chill together otherwise — the same way you’ve always been.

until later when the feelings start coming to the surface and you suddenly don’t know how to act around each other but that’s a whole other can of worms 🫡

so, when you’ve joined them for a short weekend schedule in japan, no one questions it when soobin meanders over to your hotel room after everyone is all settled in and getting ready for bed. eh, he’s just gonna go veg out there for a bit cuz he’s bored while she rambles about random stuff. classic soobin and y/n. they are wrong

you had just settled into bed when soobin slips into your room with the spare key card you had tucked into his pocket earlier, and you’re shuffling around and getting comfy when you hear the door open and close. you two hadn’t made a plan to mess around tonight, but you aren’t surprised, as it isn’t unusual for soobin to still seek you out for cuddles while he talks about his day.

you don’t even have to say anything as he slides into bed behind you, instantly wrapping an arm around your waist and nuzzling his face into the nape of your neck with a sigh.

“needed a break from beomgyu’s pororo impressions,” he mumbles, and you snort at the thought. “how does he still have so much energy right now…?” you murmur back, sleep lacing the edges of your voice.

“i still think i’m right about him being an animatronic bot who reaches peak terror at night.”

the two of you giggle at soobin’s joke before falling into a comfortable silence, broken intermittently by comments about your day, about their schedule tomorrow, about the anime-themed shopping center you guys plan to sneak off to with kai afterwards.

with another sigh from soobin, this one more of contentment than exhaustion, he’s soon nestling further into you, your eyes slipping shut in sleepy bliss at the warmth of his body pressed to yours.

that is, until you begin to feel small kisses being placed softly along your shoulder.

“soobin,” you warn half-heartedly.

“‘m not doing anything,” he complains back quietly in an equally half-hearted mumble, as he continues clearly doing something.

you’re so tired, but you can’t deny the tingles that run through your body whenever soobin touches you, and tonight is no exception as you wordlessly turn your head to look over your shoulder at him, his features coming into focus in the near-darkness of the room as he pauses to gaze at you in turn.

his blonde hair all tousled from the pillows, the sharp line of his jaw, his soft shining eyes — and his lips that you can never seem to resist for very long.

case in point. it’s only a few passing moments before those lips are on yours in a deep kiss, languid and slow, his hand gently holding your chin that’s still angled back towards him, your own hand reaching behind to caress the back of his neck — and then he’s shifting backwards to turn you over fully, your back now against the sheets as he positions himself half over you, his tongue moving lazily with yours, warm and wet and tasting of him as he comfortably rests his weight on you.

you make out like that for a while, his wandering right hand leisurely squeezing and kneading your tits beneath your shirt, his lips occasionally finding themselves trailing down your neck, but always coming back up to find yours.

i can picture how needy he’d start to get, subtle at first in the way he’d shift his hips, in the way his breath would quicken — and then it would be obvious from the moans that escape him as his kisses grow heavier, more insistent.

“need you..” he’d groan breathlessly through his kisses, attempting to shove his sweatpants down with his free hand as his lips stay latched onto yours, too desperate and impatient to sit up properly and use both hands.

“someone might come looking for you,” but you’re tugging his pants and boxers down his hips for him anyway and his lips are on your neck as he pushes your panties aside.

“let them look.”

soobin wasting no time rocking into you with deep, needy strokes, his face buried in your neck while your arms wrap around his shoulders, clutching onto him as his hips press you further into the mattress the more desperate he gets.

his hands are all over you, squeezing and caressing anywhere they can touch, and closer just isn’t enough as he holds you against him with breathy moans and grinding hips until you’re both cumming, his stuttered groan the giveaway before his final thrust is filling you up and your own climax washes over you like a wave. you can feel each other’s hearts beating as he stays there rested on top of your chest.

your best friend eventually lifting himself to hover over you in the dark, his warm breath fanning over your lips as you push the damp hair from his forehead, hand sliding down to caress his cheek, his jaw, thumb ghosting across his parted lips as he twitches inside of you — you bite back a smile.

this time, when he kisses you.. you don’t know it yet, but this time, it’s different.

soobin isn’t exactly sure why he can feel heat rising to his cheeks or a little somersault in his chest, but he’s glad that it’s too dark for you to notice the redness in his face when he asks,

“can i stay here tonight?”

[softestqueeen]

i don't know what i'd do without you

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

summary: aaron comforts you after a nightmare

warnings: fluff, tiny bit of angst

wordcount: 764 words

a/n: i need this man so bad. don’t worry i’ve already have some smut ideas (i’m a slut ik, shame on me whatever) anyways, enjoy <3

„No, no, please don’t. Stop it,” you all but mumble in your sleep.

Aaron had just returned from his latest case and was about to jump under the shower when he heard you talking. For a moment he had worried about you mistaking him for an intruder, but once he stepped closer to you, he realized that you were having a nightmare.

Your beautiful face was scrunched up into a frown, your legs were drawn tight to your chest and your hands were gripping the blanket for dear life.

The unit chief crouched down in front of you, now noting that that you were wearing his old college sweatshirt. He knew you loved wearing it, but he also knew that you always wear it when you feel down or miss him. The realisation breaks his heart.

“Please don’t hurt me,” your repeated mumbling startled Aaron out of his trance. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder and slightly shakes you.

“Honey, wake up. It’s just a dream. It’s all right,” at first you only turn a bit but upon hear his voice you startle awake.

Your breathing is heavy as you try to face in your surroundings. Now that you were sitting up, Aaron slightly stood before taking a seat at the edge of the bed next to you. His arm finds it’s way around your shoulders before he places a gentle kiss against your temple.

“It’s all right, honey. I’m here, you’re safe. Whatever happened it was just a dream, it was not real. It’s over now,” Aaron gently comforts you. At hearing his voice, your face snaps towards his voice. Aarons free hand cups your cheek and you instinctively lean you hand into it. Slowly a tear rolls down your face, which his thumb immediately wipes away.

“Do you want to talk about it, honey? You don’t have to, but it might help,” he gently says. His voice always had a soothing effect on you.

For a moment you stay quiet and only nod. Aaron let’s you take the time you need to collect yourself. While one of his hands remains on your cheek, the other one now draws smooth and lazy circles over your back. He places another kiss on your forehead before you muster up the courage to talk.

“I was- um… it was like,” you take another deep breath before the words practically tumbled out of mouth “So I was standing in the kitchen and making lunch for Jack, nothing unusual everything was normal but then my phone rang which is also not uncommon but it was Garcia who sounded like she was crying and she told me that something had happened to you. For a second I couldn’t see or hear anything but then she told me that you’d been shot and didn’t make it. I could feel everything going numb and I could still hear her over the phone and then I realised that I had to tell Jack and-“ at this point you had to take a deep breath before a sob escaped your lips.

Aaron immediately drew you close, your head tucked safely into the crook of his neck. He knew you worried about him when he was on cases, but it still broke him every time he saw you crumbling underneath your worry.

“Oh, honey, it’s all right. I’m here and I’m fine, nothings happened. The case went smooth.  You know I’ll always come back to you, right?” he now tried to soothe you with a gentle voice. You could only give a small nod as more tears made their way over your cheeks. Aaron continued to rib your back, while he pressed his cheek to the crown of your head. He slightly rocked the two of you, hoping that you would calm down. Even if it wasn’t the most efficient way, it definitely helped.

“I really don’t know what I’d do without you, Aaron. I love you,” you said as the tears slowly subsided. You slightly leaned back to place a gentle kiss to his stubble covered chin.

He gave you a quick smile before asking you “I know it’s late, but I really have to take a shower. Want to join me?” He normally wouldn’t ask, but he knew that you probably didn’t want to be alone right now.

“Yea, that would be nice.”

Even though, when you both lay in bed later on, Aaron knew that he would never be able to fully erase the worry from your mind, he also knew that he’d be always there to comfort you.

a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated!

please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueen

taglist: @silvermagnolias @milywatermelon @BigBananaa

requests open!

[corroded-hellfire]

could we see the boys going into the hospital to meet eliza after she’s been born? 🥺

This just warms my heart so much. Thank you for giving @munson-blurbs and me the sweetest little prompt for this family 💜

Words: 2.4k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The moment that Wayne puts his truck in park, both Munson boys are unbuckling their seatbelts. Luke, who sat in between his grandfather and big brother for the entirety of the ride to the hospital, feels like he’s going to tear his curls out of his head when neither of them gets out of his way fast enough. 

“Relax, Luke,” Wayne says as Luke jumps out of the truck with a huff. “Your sister’s not goin’ anywhere. She can’t exactly walk yet, ya know.”

“But I’ve been waiting forever to meet her,” he whines. “Like…a year!”

“We’ve only known about her for six months,” Ryan says with an irritated eye roll. 

“Will you two hush up? We’re walking into a hospital,” Wayne chastises, gesturing his grandsons through the automatic sliding doors before him. The strong smell of antiseptic invades their nostrils as they step inside, making Luke wrinkle up his nose in displeasure.

The entire ride up in the elevator to the third floor and the walk down hallways towards the maternity ward, the excitement buzzing between the Munson men is palpable. There’s a pressure building the closer they get, the boys like pots that are boiling over, ready to pop their lids. Every squeak of their shoes against the white linoleum floor feels like it’s echoing their heartbeats. Finally, they step into the waiting room they’re to meet Eddie. When thirty seconds pass without their father appearing, Luke starts fidgeting and heaving out impatient sighs. 

“Where is he?” he groans. “Doesn’t he know we’re coming? That we’re here?”

Wayne lovingly musses Luke’s hair. “Hold your horses, buddy. He’ll be right out.”

Sure enough, Eddie comes around the corner moments later. Exhaustion paints dark circles under his eyes, but his bright smile doesn’t leave any doubt of his excitement. 

“Are you guys ready to meet your sister?” he asks, wincing when Luke begins cheering and dancing like he just scored the winning touchdown. “Remember, we have to be calm and quiet around the baby. We don’t wanna scare her.”

Ryan nods and holds his forefinger to his lips while Luke tiptoes cartoonishly, making more noise than if he just walked normally. They stick their little heads around the door and see you sitting up in bed and holding a little bundle of blankets. 

“Hi, guys,” you loudly whisper, not to wake the baby. Even though the hospital is making far stranger and louder sounds than anyone in the room could. You yawn, fighting to keep your eyes open so you can see their reactions to their baby sister. 

Eddie walks over to stand by your side, motioning for his sons and uncle to join him. As the boys lay eyes on their new sister for the first time, their faces mirror one another’s as their eyes widen and little jaws drop.

“She’s so little,” Ryan says, awestruck. He reaches out to touch her before sharply pulling back, looking to you for permission. 

“It’s okay, Ry,” you reassure him, punctuating the statement with another yawn. Your heart melts when he brushes his forefinger over her closed fist. 

Eliza follows your lead, tiny mouth opening to let out a yawn of her own. 

Luke wrinkles his nose. “Why is she tired?” he asks. “She doesn’t do anything!”

“Babies need lots of sleep,” you tell him. “Even more than your dad does.”

Eddie playfully narrows his eyes at you. “You’re lucky you just gave birth to my daughter.” My daughter. It hadn’t felt real when he’d said it when Eliza was still in utero, but now that she’s here, it holds a stronger meaning. 

Wayne blinks back tears, trying not to show emotion, but his glassy gaze gives him away. “She’s beautiful, guys,” he manages, clearing his throat. 

Eddie claps him on the back, both men sporting matching grins as they look down at Eliza. 

Luke inspects his sister’s face, then her little fingers. “I was this small?” he asks.

“Smaller,” Eddie tells him. “You were a little over six pounds. Eliza here is just over seven.”

Ryan smiles when he hears her name spoken out loud, still in disbelief that this name that’s been going around now belongs to a person and it’s this tiny person who just came into the world. 

Eliza’s eyes crack open just enough to tell she’s looking in Ryan’s direction, like she already knows that he’s her big brother. 

“Hi, Eliza,” Ryan says softly, a huge grin plastered on his face. “I’m Ryan. I’m your oldest brother. But I’m not old.” 

“I’m Luke,” Luke chimes in, waving at his new sister. “I’m the one who would always sing VeggieTales to you every night while you were in Mama’s belly.”

You know Luke referred to you as “mama” for Eliza’s sake, but with all the hormones rushing through you it still makes you tear up. 

“Do you boys want to hold her?” you ask.

They glance nervously at one another, despite the fact that they both really want to. They’ve been around Amelia Harrington and Tiffany Sinclair as babies, but they’ve never held them, especially not when they were this small and fragile. 

“If you’re not ready, that’s okay,” Eddie tells them comfortingly. 

“No, I want to,” Ryan pipes up.

Wayne makes room for Eddie to bring the chair on the other side of the room up closer to the bed. Ryan sits down when his dad nods at him, while you make sure the blanket is securely swaddled around Eliza. 

Eddie gets down on one knee next to Ryan. “Okay bud, you’ve got to support her head, yeah? She’s not strong enough to hold it up on her own so you have to help her out a little.”

Ryan nods as he scoots all the way back in the chair, eyes wide behind his glasses. 

“Don’t worry,” Eddie tells him with a reassuring grin. Of course their father can see the nerves popping up in his two boys. “It’s easy. And I’ll be right here next to you if you need or want me to take her, okay?”

“Okay,” Ryan says, trying to portray more confidence than he feels.

You carefully hand Eliza to Eddie, who coos a bit once she’s in her father’s arms. Eddie holds her in the crook of his arm and Eliza lets out a content little sigh. 

“Such a Daddy’s girl already,” you tease.

Eddie grins, still over the moon that he has a daughter. A daughter with you. And she’s finally here in his arms. 

Wayne leans in to show Ryan how to hold his arms the best, balancing his elbows on the chair’s arms. “Just like that,” the older man says. “And you’ll hold her little head right here.”

Eddie carefully places Eliza into Ryan’s arms. Ryan’s lower lip juts out, overcome with emotion, as he looks down at the baby he’s holding. Of course, he’s always known that he’s a big brother, taking on the responsibilities and duties that come with it. But Luke’s been around since before Ryan can even remember. They’re only two years apart, it’s always been this way for them. Eliza is his new baby sister, though. A renewed sense of big brother love and protectiveness comes over him as he looks down at the dozing baby. She’s so little and she’s going to be coming home soon. There’s going to be a baby in the house. All these things that Ryan already knew are finally sinking in for him. It makes him chuckle for some reason. As he gazes down at Eliza, her tiny face pinching up and tiny coos coming from her tiny lips, Ryan just grins as a wave of happiness comes over him. 

Eddie stands between Ryan in the chair and you in the bed, staying closer to his son just in case. As you watch Ryan with Eliza, you can’t help but get choked up by another round of emotions. The memories of meeting Ryan for the first time are still clear as day to you, as if they happened yesterday, not over five and a half years ago. The little six-year-old who was too shy to even say hello to you at first. It’s amazing how quickly after meeting him you came to adore the person that he is and have such an immense love for him. It seems like you only just blinked and there he is, holding his little sister. Eliza Marie Munson. Your and Eddie’s daughter. Even without the hormones coursing through you this would be emotional, but they’re certainly not helping either. 

You slip your hand into Eddie’s and look up to see his own eyes filling with tears. Images of Ryan being born, being the small little baby coming into the world must be playing in his mind, you think. And now to see he’s grown into this compassionate, intelligent, handsome young man who is holding his baby sister with so much tenderness and love.

“H-Hi, Eliza,” Ryan says as he gazes down at her. “I knew you would be small but you’re smaller than a loaf of bread.”

You, Eddie, and Wayne all share a chuckle at that.

“I’m happy you’re here now,” Ryan tells her. “I’ll do my best to make sure Luke doesn’t get you into too much trouble.”

“Hey!” Luke pouts.

“Is he wrong though?” Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow at his youngest son—now his middle child as well.

“That’s besides the point,” Luke scoffs. He notices the tiny Band-Aid on Eliza’s foot. “What’s that for?”

“She had to get a shot,” you explain. “In her heel.”

Luke grins. “For scurvy?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “No, Vitamin K, you little weirdo.”

“Oh,” Luke sighs dejectedly before adding, “but you need Vitamin C to prevent scurvy!”

Eddie leans in and whispers into Eliza’s little ear, “don’t ever listen to a word he says, please.”

Ryan looks up at Luke and nods his head towards their sister.  “You wanna hold her?”

“Is it hard?” Luke asks his older brother, face creased with worry. His voice has a slight tremor, as if he’s unsure if his nerves are getting the better of him or not.

“So easy,” Ryan assures him. “Just gotta make sure you got her head.”

“Okay,” Luke decides with a nod on finality. “I’ll do it.”

Eddie can’t help but think Luke sounds more like he’s agreeing to be a test subject for a science experiment. Ryan carefully hands Eliza back to Eddie and gets out of the chair so Luke can sit. Eliza coos again and you furrow your brow as you look at your tiny baby in your husband’s arms.

“Hey, I know you love your Daddy—we all do, but I’m the one who carried ya for nine months and then pushed you out of my body. Why don’t you make those cute noises for me?” you ask. 

“Maybe she’s trying to yell at him in baby language,” Luke says as he sits down. “Who are you and why are you holding me and why do you have so much hair?!” Luke’s impersonation of what Eliza’s high-pitched voice would sound like has you and Ryan laughing. Acting just as childishly as the actual children in the room, Eddie sticks his tongue out at Luke. 

Ryan shows Luke how to hold his arms and Wayne watches on with a smile, proud his grandson remembers the things he teaches him. Slowly, Eddie lowers Eliza into Luke’s awaiting arms. 

Luke giggles once he’s finally holding her on his own.

“Oh my God, she barely weighs anything!”

“Tell that to my hoo-ha,” you mumble under your breath and slightly adjust the way you’re sitting in the bed.

“Hey, Eliza,” Luke says. At the sound of his voice, Eliza cracks her eyes open to inspect the new person holding her. “I’m gonna teach you all the things. Like ice skating and swimming and bowling and a whole lot of other stuff! And I’ll beat up any boys who are mean to you or break your heart.”

Your heart swells at the declaration he’s making to his sister—and you have no doubt he means what he says. She’s only been in this world a few hours and they’re already such amazing big brothers to her, you think. 

All of a sudden, Luke starts laughing, but tries to keep it softer for the baby.

“Look, she’s smiling at me! She knows I’m the funny one.” He sticks his tongue out at Ryan, emphasizing the fact that Eddie was acting with the maturity of a ten-year-old when he just did the same thing.

“Uh, I don’t think that’s what it means,” Eddie warns, but not soon enough. 

“Ew!” Luke exclaims, wrinkling his nose. “I am not changing a poopy diaper, nope!”

Eddie takes Eliza from him. “I got this,” he says softly. 

You watch as your husband delicately changes her diaper, unable to hide his disgusted expression that matches Luke’s. Loving his daughter with every ounce of his being does not negate the odors that come along with her.

Your gaze drifts over to Ryan and Luke, who are watching their father intently. They take in every gentle touch and every soft word and smile Eddie gives to the newborn. You can feel your emotions welling up just thinking about how they’ll be such great dads one day because they have the best role model. 

“Good as new,” Eddie proclaims, wrapping Eliza back up in her blanket. “You wanna hold your granddaughter, Wayne?”

Tears momentarily cloud the older man’s vision. “Give ‘er here.” He opens his arms and Eddie places the baby in the crook of his elbow. “Well, hi there, Ms. Eliza,” Wayne says with a smile. “We’re so glad you’re here. ‘S kind of a crazy family, but you’ll get used to us.”

As he says it, it dawns on you: this is your family. A doting husband who can make you feel loved without even trying, an uncle who would give you all the moon on a string if you asked, two stepsons who keep you laughing on your worst days, and now your daughter, who will grow up in a home filled with love and happiness. 

As Wayne takes the boys back home—it’s past bedtime, and they have school in the morning—you can’t help but stare at Eddie. He’s exhausted from helping you through labor, but he can’t stop smiling. 

“You did such an incredible job growing our little girl,” he murmurs into your scalp. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you more.” You look at him, then back down to the newborn in your arms. “But I’m pretty sure she’s the most loved.”

[moonstruckme]

who knew camp counsellor james would have such a hold on me-

i feel like one one of the last days of the camp before they have to go back to experiencing the joys of the real world james would sneak the reader out past curfew to indulge in a late night campfire session or smth yk? it would just be really cute-

Thanks for requesting lovely!

camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

It took you a while to clear the fog of sleep from your head, and you could really argue that you didn’t fully wake up until after you’d put your shoes on and slipped out of your cabin to let James take you into the woods. Your decision making abilities were definitely not fully functioning. 

Not because you wouldn’t have gone if they were, but because you probably would have put on real shorts. 

You feel strangely underdressed in your pajamas while James leads the way in his everyday clothes. Whatever this is—you haven’t had the wherewithal to ask many questions—it was clearly pre-planned on his end, and you hadn’t been clued in until he’d tapped on the window by your bunk bed and asked you to come outside. 

“Careful of that hole there,” he warns you, voice chipper and oddly loud in the quiet of early morning, though you think he’s speaking at a normal volume. 

You step over the hole he’d gestured to, every step helping you to shed the lethargy you’ve carried out of your cabin with you. The world around you is lightening, your sandaled feet brushing against wet blades of grass and mist pleasantly chilling your skin. There’s an excitement coming off James that’s more contagious the more you wake up. 

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“The top of the hill.” 

“Why?” 

“God, can’t I have any secrets?” He tosses you a smile over his shoulder. “It’s a surprise.” 

You roll your eyes even though he can’t see. “Is the surprise that you’re going to murder me?” 

“Well, now you’ve spoiled it.” 

You don’t actually think James would murder you. He may be serial-killer charming, but he’s the sort of kind that persists even when no one is looking and you truly don’t think he’s got a malicious bone in his body. There’s certainly nothing malicious about the way he looks at you now, turning to watch you finish the climb as he steps into the clearing beyond the trees. 

This grassy bluff (referred to lovingly by camp staff as “the hill”) overlooks the lake and the uninhabited, wooded land opposite your camp. On the horizon, you can see thin wisps of fog coating the landscape, tinged faintly yellow by the emerging light though the sun hasn’t yet broken the surface. 

This isn’t somewhere the kids ever really come, but still management has built a wooden fence along the edge of the hill to make sure no one misses the drop-off or tries to jump into the lake below. James walks up to it like this is something he does every day, putting his legs between the two boards so he’s sitting on one with his arms folded across the other. 

You follow suit, though you’re still not sure why you’re here. James set a hand on your back to keep you from tipping backwards while you get situated, and even through the material of your pajama top, it burns like a brand. 

“So, this is the plan,” you say, hating the nervous pitch of your voice. Even though you and James see each other every day, it’s rare that you’re so thoroughly alone with him. “You’re going to dump me in the lake, and then blame it on my own recklessness for climbing over the fence.” 

“Yes, you’ve figured me out,” James replies, but his heart doesn’t seem in the joke anymore. “No, I was just thinking, we never get any time away from the kids.” 

“Except the bonfire.” It’s out of your mouth before you can stop it, the closest either of you have come to acknowledging what happened in the woods that night. You blame exhaustion for the slip. James’ eyes widen slightly, his lips parting like he might say something, but you go on in a hurry, “But yeah, generally we don’t.” 

James quells his surprise, lips turning up again. “Right. I’ve been wanting to come up here to watch the sunrise—it’s the only place you can really see it around here—and I figured we may as well. Friday’s our last day, you know?” 

The levity goes out of you in a soft breath. You turn your gaze towards the horizon. “Yeah,” you acknowledge. 

The end of camp heavies your heart for loads of reasons, but lately the idea of not seeing James has been your least favorite. It’s both of your first summer here, and you’re already planning to come back next year but you don’t know if he’ll do the same. 

You find yourself asking, “Are you ready to go home?” 

The boards creak as James shifts his weight. “There are people I miss, so I’ll be happy to get back to them, but…no, not really. I feel like things have ended too fast. Like, I thought there’d be more time, but now all of a sudden we’re meant to start packing. Are you?” 

You look at James. His hair really has gotten long. There are curls that you think if pulled would stretch nearly to the tip of his nose. You remember when he’d shown up for training, three days before the kids got here, cleaner and several shades lighter and by far the most handsome man you’d ever seen. You’d hardly been able to look at him that first day, so nervous about tripping over your tongue and embarrassing yourself before being stuck with this gorgeous boy for the entire summer, but James’ geniality proved relentless. By dinnertime he’d had you trading your fruit for his fries and the camaraderie between you after that had been easy and fun, if not always strictly friendly. 

“Not really,” you agree, offering him a halfhearted smile. 

James’ knee bumps yours, and all the heat in your body seems to focus on the spot. He smiles back at you. “I’m gonna miss you,” he says, tone light but eyes heavy. 

Your head feels staticky. “I’m gonna miss you, too,” you say. Any other time your voice would be too quiet to hear, but the morning is still, and James feels closer to you than he was a few moments before. “You’re right, I wish there’d been more time for…things.” 

“We could keep in touch.” His voice has gone soft too. You can almost feel his warm breath on your face. “I don’t live that far from you, we could meet up on weekends, or…” 

“Right,” you murmur, but you only get about halfway through before his lips are on yours. 

James tastes like toothpaste and fresh air, and he kisses just like you thought he would, giving and taking in equal measure. His mouth is warm and easy on yours, testing the waters, feeling out what you want. You grip his shoulder to pull him closer, and despite the awkward angle he obliges you. Your head fills with buzzing bees. 

You lose your balance and nearly fall off the fence, but James catches you, laughing into your mouth. He eases you both down onto the ground, appeasing you with kisses to your cheek, your jaw, the side of your nose until he finds his way back to your lips. The dewy wetness of the grass seeps into your clothes. 

You feel more than see the sun rising over the lake. Golden light blooms on the insides of your eyelids, followed by a faint warmth on that side of your face. You find you’re actually alright with missing this one.